Mickey Mouse Award – An Ode to Military Humor

If you have read some of my recent posts, you know that I have been writing about my experiences after leaving the Logistics Executive Development Course at Fort Lee, Virginia.  Well, I graduated from the Logistics Executive Development Course in due course, and my family and I headed for Fort Huachuca, Arizona.  Thus, I left the Logistics Executive Development Course and Fort Lee, Virginia, behind.  If you want to know more about those subjects, you will just have to go back and revisit the posts on those subjects.  If you have been reading my most recent posts about my adventures after moving to Arizona, you found out what happened when I initially signed in at Fort Huachuca, Arizona.  What I didn’t tell you previously was that I had been assigned to the Joint Interoperability Test Center (JITC) at Fort Huachuca.  JITC is a subordinate command of the Defense Information Systems Agency.  You may have read about an interesting situation with a temporary guard.  I talked about securing post housing and how spiders rained from the ceilings.  Oh yeah.  That was quite entertaining.  Not.  I switched gears to talk about some of my volunteer work on Fort Huachuca.  Oh yeah.  I was volunteered by my unit to be a tax officer to help soldiers and their families prepare their taxes.  Yay.  Due to this, I discussed how I helped my Master Gunnery Sergeant and his dependapotamus spouse prepare their taxes.  Finally, I most recently talked about where my quarters were located on Fort Huachuca and how I was introduced to the local chapter of the Hash House Harriers.  I talked about an incident that happened soon after I assumed my tour of duty at the Joint Interoperability Test Center (JITC) at Fort Huachuca.  This particular incident occurred one Monday morning soon after I arrived at work.  I pulled into the west parking lot without incident and parked in my usual parking spot.  At that time, I noted that my NCOIC, Master Gunnery Sergeant Orr, was in his usual position in the back of his green pickup truck.  Naturally, I assumed he was sound asleep so I did not disturb him.  I proceeded through the gate and stopped at the gate shack to talk to the guard for a few minutes.  Then I proceeded to the tactical testbed operations building.  The tactical testbed operations building was an old, converted aircraft hangar.  My office was on the second floor of that building.  After drinking two cups of coffee and discussing daily operations with my maintenance chief Bill Lee, I decided I needed to use the local facilities.  I excused myself and headed for the men’s room.  When I entered the men’s room, a guy in cowboy boots and jeans was sitting in one of the stalls.  He appeared to be slumped over as if he was asleep.  Today, I am going to speak on the first of two farewell posts concerning my NCOIC, Master Gunnery Sergeant Orr.  Yes, I did say two.  The first of those two stories concerns a farewell commendation order that I wrote for Master Gunnery Sergeant Orr.  My original recommendation was for a Defense Meritorious Service Medal.  The approval chain of command was through my rater, a Marine Lieutenant Colonel, to my senior rater, a Navy Captain, and finally to the Marine Commander at Fort Huachuca, a full Colonel.  Both the Navy Captain and the Marine Colonel disapproved of my recommendation.  Correspondence from the Marine Colonel stated that not only did he disapprove of the award, but that in his opinion, Master Gunnery Sergeant Orr should be court-martialed for his reprehensible conduct unbecoming of the Marine Corps.  Of course, he was referring to Orr’s habit of sleeping in the back of his truck during duty hours.  After downgrading my award recommendation to a Joint Service Commendation Medal, I took my case in front of the Navy Captain and the Marine Colonel in person.  I stood in front of the Colonel and the Captain and argued that Master Gunnery Sergeant Orr must have somehow, somewhere done something to achieve the rank of Master Gunnery Sergeant and therefore deserved recognition for his service.  It did not matter that he did nothing in his final unit of assignment.  What mattered was his total manner of service.  If that did not account for something then nothing did.  I said that they should not give him an award based on his final term of service, but on his total time in service.  They told me they would take it under advisement.  As it was, they approved a retirement metal for Master Gunnery Sergeant Orr but it wasn’t the Joint Service Commendation Medal.  They approved a Joint Service Achievement Medal citing the fact that Master Gunnery Sergeant Orr had never received any previous commendations.  Then, when the leadership at JITC attempted to present the award to Master Gunnery Sergeant Orr, he refused to accept it.  He said that he wouldn’t accept any award unless it came from the Marine Corps.  Thus, I asked the Marine Colonel to host a recall formation of all of the Marines on Fort Huachuca at his convenience to present Master Gunnery Sergeant Orr with his award.  I was thinking of a song in my mind all the while I was making the arrangements.  If you are a fan of that old Vietnam flick “Full Metal Jacket,” you may know which song I am talking about.  It’s really more of a jingle.  You know the one.  The main character in the jingle is a cartoon character with big round ears and a big nose.  And he and his significant other, are attractions at a popular theme park or two or more.  Have you guessed the song yet?  No.  Maybe it will help if I spell it out: M-I-C-K-E-Y M-O-U-S-E.,  You still don’t get it?  Oh, come on.  Anyway, let me suffice it to say I never had to jump through so many hoops just to give one person a goddamn award.  But in the end, I gave Master Gunnery Sergeant Orr a farewell award.  It wasn’t a great award.  In fact, it wasn’t even a good award.  But it was the only award he was going to get because of his stellar reputation.  Too many people knew him and his damn green pickup truck.  However, his award ceremony was held with no further exercises in futility.

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