Previously on Springtime Folly:
Your friendly neighborhood Deuce and Master of Chaos, dropped in, filling in for the old man. Who can forget the tale of my upgrading from the Army template of the family business, or of my visit to the USO. Now this would signal probably the third time I stopped in to tell a little tale of Marine Corps mischief. Now instead of just picking up on the juicy story of where I left off on heading to boot camp, I thought that I might as well keep in mind the season and tell a tale of New Years mischief I got up too shortly after I joined up. Now just to run you through it, I joined up in January 2005. Finished Boot Camp in March, went on to Marine Combat Training (MCT), and then in April went to my follow on schools. I reported to my unit in October. Now all the way back in March before I even finished Boot Camp my folks received a letter from my future unit with a letter stating that the unit was being deployed in December with full service to Iraq. Now that meant My unit would have 3 months of special mobilization starting in December of 2005 and then take the flight to the sandbox. Mind you they got this letter before I was even done with Boot Camp. I found out about the letter on the ten day break between Boot and MCT. I knew I was getting an 8 month vacation on the scenic sandy but water-less beaches of western Iraq. Before I was even done with all the training I was supposed to do just to be a competent Marine, I knew I was slated for this luxurious trip, and on the government’s dime. Now fast forward back to December 2005, and I have only been in the unit for 2 months at this point. Now I could get into some of the problems this entailed, but I don’t want to get ahead of myself since I would have to explain some of the background info that I have skipped over in all that time skipping I did previously. What I can say is that this unit was worse than a chewed up piece of bubble gum stuck to the bottom of a boot private’s combat boots. They were pulling all the personnel they could find from under all the rocks across these United States just to reach the numbers needed to be ready for this deployment. Worse, this was a unit slated to be decommissioned and this deployment was the Marine Corps’ idea to wring the last bit of value out of the unit before it disappeared forever. So to say that this first month of our deployment was a cluster-fucked disaster is an understatement. But come Christmas Eve all us lowly enlisted were cut loose for 7 days of Libbo, or Liberty for the layman. Now if you’re confused on what that term means, it’s like getting a weekend away from work mixed with a little school break vacation. So on this magnificent Christmas Eve 2005, the Marines of my unit were released from our deployment obligations and were able to head home. I got home about 7 pm that night and was home with the rents for about 15 minutes. Just long enough to say hello, eat a bite of food and then dip out and head to my civvie (civilian) buddies house for a good round of drinking. Mind at the time I was 19 years old (remember kids this blog and the people behind it never recommend underage drinking or drinking irresponsibly and especially do not condone drinking and driving), so of course we were drinking at my buddy’s house and by at I mean in the guy’s driveway. As my trip home was a surprise I just walked up and dropped in on my friends without a call or anything of the sort. Now they were happy to hand me a beer and a drink and welcome me home since they knew I was soon to be off to 29 Stumps (29 Palms Marine Corps Air Ground Combat Center), then to Iraq. A Night of drunken debauchery ensued. Probably the best Christmas Eve, I cannot really remember clearly, I’ve ever had. Now basically I spent the remaining Libbo days with family, like Christmas day and my sister’s birthday, but my nights were essentially spent until the wee hours of the morning rabble-rousing with my buddies in a driveway in the cold, drunk as skunks. But come New Year’s Eve I didn’t know it but my friends had a grand plan to make sure I was so drunk that I would be outta commision until the return trip to my unit. I got to the driveway that night at the usual time of 7 pm. But the minute I got there they were handing me beers and drinks left and right. I didn’t go the whole night without an adult beverage in one or both of my hands. Now as the time drew closer and closer to the appointed time (midnight) we were all getting rowdier and rowdier. If it weren’t for the fact that all the neighbors were used to it and that people knew I was going to the Planet Dune to enjoy all the spice and insurgents I could possibly enjoy, our dead awakening racket would have surely warranted a police intervention. We went crazy at that magic hour and celebrated the arrival of the new year until well past 3 am. My buddies were toasting me and wishing I would be safe on my coming cross global adventures and we parted ways, with me drunkenly staggering home. Though I woke up the next day just fine with nary a hangover (man I miss being young), and on January 2nd, 2006 safely made it back to my unit without an exercise in futility in sight.
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