Chapter 29

We were back to brutal morning PT. I think Sgt Le Pesant got some sort of sick pleasure out of it. I’d at least be getting some use out of my ice bath soon.

After chow we went over the schedule for the week, reviewing and being told what the schedule was for each day. We spent the majority of the day going over the two training cycles for the week, our water vehicle escape training and a range day on Friday. Most of this time was spent going over all the presentations and material we’d already gotten.

There was about an hour left in the duty day when Sgt Le Pesant mentioned that he had one more last thing to discuss with us.

“Just so you Marines are aware, I was called into the Company office by First Sergeant Blake.”

There were a lot of moans and groans at this. Cpl Adkins from Second Squad leaned over and said this couldn’t be good. I figured that pretty much summed things up. Getting called in by the First Sergeant meant one of two things. Either you or someone else fucked up royally. The second possibility was even more scary. That would be that the Officers had been thinking and had come up with some way to ruin your day, week, month or year.

“There are two announcements from Captain Armstrong. Adkins get up here.”

The Corporal walked over to him and was handed a stack of papers. Words were exchanged and he began handing out the papers to everyone. Just as he got to me the Sergeant started again.

“What you’re being handed is the Professional Reading Program List for 1995. This is more commonly known as the Commandant’s Reading List.”

Fuck me, this couldn’t be coincidence, and was not going to be good.

“It seems that someone in this room asked for a copy of the list. That request made it back to Captain Armstrong somehow. He’s now on a crusade about the list.”

Everyone was turning and looking around to try and figure out who did it. I didn’t have that problem, already knowing who it was. The only hope I had was that it didn’t come out or there was no backlash. I had no delusions about either of those things happening.

“So, you guys can thank Badzinski for this. I’m going to tell you guys which two books to read. Then we’ll schedule a group chat about each book. Just so you know, Captain Armstrong has mentioned attending those group chats.”

Yep, I was fucked, everyone was going to have it out for me. The two books that we were given were The Bridge at Dong Ha by John Miller and Fields of Fire by James Webb. Everyone was staring daggers at me; I knew at that moment this wasn’t going to blow over anytime soon.

“The second piece of business we need to take care of is the Marine Corps Birthday Ball. The Company is having our Ball on Friday the tenth in Honolulu at the Royal Hawaiian Resort. Captain Armstrong has put together a fine evening for the Company. Tickets need to be purchased for you and a guest if you choose to bring one. The tickets will be fifty dollars apiece. They will be on sale in the company office until the twenty seventh of this month.”

He walked out from behind the podium and got a serious look on his face.

“Guys, if you repeat what I’m about to say outside of this room I’ll find out who said it and hunt them down. Captain Armstrong isn’t a bad officer; he just wants the best out of his Marines. He may be a little over enthusiastic, but he means well.”

There was a bunch of murmuring going on. “Means well” seemed like sugar coating what he really thought. Sgt Le Pesant waited until everyone had quieted down.

“The captain is expecting everyone to attend the Ball but I’m not going to hold you Marines to that. I know that the Ball is an expensive proposition and it’s not financially realistic for many of you. Between the cost of the tickets, Dress Blues and other things, it’s out of reach for a lot of you.”

Letting that sink in, I realized that a bunch of guys realized that they really wouldn’t be able to afford it. This was going to be interesting as it was going to be my first Marines Corps Ball. I really wanted to go, but also didn’t want to go by myself. It would have been perfect if Kiku had been here.

“If any of you Marines aren’t going to make it to the ball, get a group together and go out and have a good time. Just don’t make me have to come get you out of jail. One last thing. The Captain has decided that the ten-mile run will be next Friday. So, the next weeks I’ll be pushing you hard. Now pack it in for the day.”

As we filed out of the room there were people shoulder checking me, a lot of comments made towards me. Mostly “Thanks asshole” and “I’m going to kick your ass”.

I went back to the barracks room and Norbert decided to yell at me. He kept going on about how I was the root of all his problems, that without me, his life would be perfect. I just tuned him out as I prepared to go grab dinner.

I stopped by the Day Room to use the phone book to find a bookstore before making my way over to the Mess Hall. As I made my way there, I learned just how screwed I was.

I learned that it was just not the Assault Section of the Weapons Platoon that was being forced to join the Captain’s Book Club, it was the whole company. I was being bombarded by comments left, right and center, and it all came to a head as I sat down to eat my food. I was at a table by myself, no one was going to chance being seen eating at the same table.

My ass no sooner hit the chair than a Corporal that I’d seen once or twice was standing at my table, chewing me out. It was an Asian guy from one of the Rifle platoons. I knew nothing about him other than the name on his name tape, Tae-Won. I ignored him standing there and proceeded to eat, which seemed to enrage him even more.

“I’m talking to you an asshole.” Still ignoring him I continued to eat, he seemed not to know how to respond to my indifference. Then he did something that in my view was inadvisable, whether in this go round or the previous. He got between me and my food.

As I was lifting a forkful of green beans, he grabbed my wrist. Looking up at him, I dropped the fork back onto the tray. He seemed to take this as some sort of victory with a smirk on his face. Standing up, I gripped his wrist and applied pressure.

The inner beast let out a sigh, he wanted to do more. I did what I needed to keep him at bay, he was pissed. Seeing as he was me, and we were both still fat guys at heart, he enjoyed eating just like I did. Eating came in only second to violence and destruction for him. He liked me for the moment and was playing nice for the time being. I was going to give him a possibility of lots of violence soon. Which made him somewhat agreeable at the moment.

“Look here asshole, I’m going to let go, please don’t do anything stupid. If you choose not to take my advice, I’m going to cram my tray down your throat. Then I’m going to do my best to break every bone in both of your hands before they drag me off to the brig.”

His smirk vanished in an instant, and he couldn’t remove his hand fast enough.

“You’re pissed off, I get it. It wasn’t my intention for this to happen. There’s probably a line of guys that want to get their pound of flesh. Give me a day and I’ll have a way for that to happen without any fallout from it.”

He took a lot longer to think about it than I figured he would. That cheesy smirk came back.

“You’ve got twenty-four hours. If it’s not an acceptable solution, then I release the dogs.”

“Fair enough. I’ll be right here tomorrow night waiting.”

Now I just had to see if my plan was even feasible, I needed to find out if they had what was needed and then set this whole thing up. I inhaled my food and drove over to the Company office.

There were a few cars still in the parking lot and hopefully somebody who could help was still here. Walking in, there was a private sitting at the duty desk.

“What can I do for you Lance Corporal?”

“Is the First Sergeant still in?”

“No, but Gunny Ortega is still here.”

“That’ll do, he available?”

“Go on back.” Walking back to his office, I pounded on the door frame.

“Enter.”

Gunny Ortega looked up from his desk and chuckled.

“So, come to complain about everybody being mean to you?”

Seems he already knew what was going on.

“No Gunny.”

“So, what is it that you need Badzinski?”

“I was wondering if there was a boxing ring on the Base? I didn’t see anything in the gym that led me to believe that there is.”

“Just what do you need with a boxing ring?”

“As you said, people are being “mean” to me. There have been several promises of bodily harm. A boxing ring would allow this to be dealt with in a manner that ensures no lasting repercussions. I for one don’t really feel like getting NJPed (Non-Judicial Punishment) or sent to the brig.”

He looked at me for a moment, I could only surmise that he was wondering if I was a complete idiot or not.

“So, your figure that doing this in a boxing ring with gloves will lessen the beating they’re planning on dishing out?”

“No.”

“Oh, I have got to hear this.”

“I figure putting one or two down should make the rest question whether it’s a good idea and then leave me alone.”

He let out a deep laugh that went on for a bit. When it became obvious that I was serious the laughing stopped.

“You are either severely delusional or a complete idiot.”

“Neither Gunny. I know what I’m capable of and taking an educated guess that there are no skilled boxers in the company.”

There was an awkward silence, then a predatory grin spread across his face.

“There is a boxing ring on Base, though it’s for a specific purpose. For you to be able to use it for your grudge match, I’m going to need something from you.”

And this is not what I needed. It seemed that shits creek was getting deeper and faster, and here I was, still without a paddle.

“Well Gunny, I can’t give you an answer one way or another without knowing the terms.”

“That lets me know that you’re not a complete moron. Let me lay it out for you Badzinski.”

He filled me in that there was a boxing tournament held on the Island every year. It was a throwback to the pre-World War II days. At that time, each ship in the Pacific Fleet put up a boxer to fight in a tournament. The winner would then be crowned the Fleet champion. This continued until the late 60’s. The tournament was brought back twenty years later by Admiral Lyons the Pacific Fleet Commander. Two years later Admiral Jeremiah overhauled the tournament into what it still is today.

In its current form, the tournament was weeklong, culminating in the finals the Saturday before Christmas. The other change was that all four branches were now invited. Each branch could enter two fighters in each of the six weight classes. It was a single elimination tournament.

What surprised me most was that there was actually a cash prize on top of the bragging rights and I figured that betting was rampant throughout the tournament. This was the military we’re talking about. Easy way to make some money.

To represent the Marine Corps, you had to be stationed at K-Bay for a year, or it had to be your first duty station. The Gunny seemed to imply that the Army and Navy had been bringing in ringers. The weight class I would be in was Super Heavyweight. It was from two hundred and fifteen pounds and up. He informed me that they only had one fighter in that weight class, a Sergeant from the Combat Service Support Group 3.

I could sense that the Gunny was looking to get another fighter to use for his own benefit. It seemed to be a way that I could use this in my favor and maybe come out ahead if the cards were played right. From his posture I could tell Gunny was hoping I’d take him up on his offer.

“So do we have a deal Badzinski?”

“Only for me trying out for this thing. I’ll give you an hour to see what I can do. I get an hour to thump on guys from the company.”

“Agreed, I’ll even referee this so-called thumping.”

“If you find that you want me to box in this tournament, we’ll negotiate at that point.”

“I don’t think so, you decide at that time.”

“Gunny, both you and I know that you can’t order me to do it. Yes, you can make my life a living hell, but that’s not really the best way to get someone to do what you want. I already have a reasonable request in mind, though I’ll wait until you made your determination on Saturday.”

“We’ll see Badzinski. Just remember, don’t get too big for those boots. You won’t like the sudden stop from the fall. Meet me at building thirty forty at twelve hundred on Saturday.”

“Aye, Aye Gunny.”

I heard him mutter “ Cocky, bastard” as I left his office. It took about twenty minutes at the MCX to find a copy of one of the required readings. It would remain to be seen if I could find the other one. I drove out to the bookstore I found in the phone book; it was good that it was only about a ten-minute drive. They didn’t have the book and I had to pay so that they would order it. I also had to order my Dragon Lance books; everything would arrive in no more than two weeks.

After morning PT, we spent all day reviewing and practicing our vehicle escape training. Staying calm and not a panicking was being stressed. The process of actually exiting the vehicle was gone over at least a few hundred times. I could foresee the next few days being a total clusterfuck.

I was sitting at the same table in the Mess Hall when Cpl Tae-Won came in. He came strutting over like the cock of the walk. I waited until he was just about at the table.

“Why don’t you have a seat Corporal, and we can chat while I finish eating. I’ve got an appointment.”

He sat down then made a comment that I couldn’t hide my disdain for.

“Ok, but if I don’t like what you have to say, you won’t be making your appointment.”

“I’ll lay this out as simply as possible then. I only asked for a copy of the Commandants Reading list. I had no intention in involving anyone else in this. If y’all want to be dicks about this and come after me, then I’ll give you that opportunity.”

He couldn’t hide the surprise on his face.

“1430 Saturday afternoon, Bldg 3040. Bring whoever you want with you. I’ll take on all comers, one at a time.”

Now he was looking at me like I had just given him a gift mixed with a little shock.

“I have no problem taking on you and anyone else. I’m just not willing to go to the brig because y’all are a bunch of petulant children. This way nobody goes to the brig, and hopefully I don’t seriously injure anyone.”

During our conversation I’d finished eating. I got up and left without another word. I ignored the idiot as I got changed to head to judo.

We went through our stretching and calisthenics before we were grouped based on our experience levels. Sensei Yasutoki put me with the beginner group from day one. He treated me like I didn’t know anything. My group spent the first twenty minutes of class learning how to fall. I wanted to complain that I already knew how but figured it would only get me removed from class.

Class was a good source of exercise, but I wasn’t really learning anything new. I was honing the stuff I already knew though. As I was getting ready to leave Sensei Yasutoki called me over.

“Barnim, you must put all your effort into the lessons. Before you say anything, I can see you are only giving the class half effort.”

He was right, because I wasn’t going at the pace I wanted it, I was half assing it. It was the attitude of a petulant child. I noticed something that should have surprised me but didn’t. Since making the trip back to my teens, I’d been surrounding myself with people like Grandfather. People who wouldn’t have a problem calling me out on bullshit and stupidity. They would then hold my feet to the fire.

“I know you want to learn new things. You must master the basics. There is a Japanese proverb, I will tell you, go home and think about it. We will discuss it next week.”

He gave me the proverb, “If dust piles up, it will become a mountain”. I had an idea of what it meant, though I’d think of it this weekend.

We had a lighter than normal PT session this morning which led me to believe that our training session was going to be grueling. We were given time to eat before meeting in the barracks parking lot then told to change into our BDUs (utility/utes) uniform and bring our PT gear.

There was a bus waiting for us in the parking lot. It took us almost two hours to reach Naval Station Pearl Harbor, where we pulled up to what looked like an older warehouse. As we got off the bus, we were informed that there was a locker room off to the right. We were told to get changed into our PT gear and assemble outside the room.

Once we were all formed up, it was then into the main area of the building. It was really just a shell of a building that encompassed a large pool about the size of four Olympic pools. The big difference was the gantry crane at one end. Hooked to the cables of the crane looked like one of those shipping containers. I could see that one end had what looked like a big door on it. Seemed we all were gawking at everything. Sgt Le Pesant snapped us out of it.

“Get your dumbasses in the shallow end of the pool. Time to see who skated by in Boot Camp.” Standing in the shallow end didn’t stop the verbal abuse.

“Every one of you to the deep end and start treading water. If one of you bastards tells me you can’t, I’ll drown you now and end my misery quick.”

We then spent about an hour treading water. After a few minutes of treading water, we would be instructed to swim to the shallow end and back. Then it was back to treading water. Sgt Le Pesant would occasionally pull someone out of the pool.

We were then told to get out of the pool. Sgt Le Pesant then pulled me and two others off to the side. Looking at the other two, it was Pfc Acevedo from Second Squad and LCpl Chowdury from First Squad.

“Look, I’m going to need to count on you three Marines. There’s a few that aren’t really good swimmers. You three are the strongest swimmers that I have. I also believe that the three of you have a good head on your shoulders. Help your Squad Leaders with the drills that we’ll be doing.”

We all went down to look at the metal box underneath the crane. It was supposed to be an approximation of the troop area of an AAVP-7A1, which was the Marine Corps tracked amphibious land vehicle. The only problem was they’d been in service since the 70’s.

There was a drop-down ramp with an inset oval door on one side. They let the ramp down which was powered, and we saw three benches in the compartment, two along the outside and one in the center. The inside was almost an exact match to the actual troop compartment. All the benches and hatches were the exact same.

It turned out that all our NCOs had ridden in an AAVP before which enabled them to give us insights as to how things should actually be done. Another thing that I noticed was that along with lifeguards, there were four Marines with SCUBA gear. They were the Safety NCOs for the pool. Anytime we were in the simulator, over or in the water, there would be three divers in the pool and one in the simulator with us.

We were shown and made to repeat the process on how to open the overhead hatches. Once everyone had run through that a few times Sgt Le Pesant gathered us around.

“Riding in the back of an AAV is horrible and great at the same time. These things are as old as most of you. While you’re in my platoon and we have to ride in these things, I’ll be looking out for you. If you see something unsafe, don’t hesitate to let me or your Squad Leader know. I want you to pay attention today and tomorrow like your life depends on it. One day it might. Tomorrow during our live training there will be things that I’ll expect you Marines to catch.”

The platoon then loaded into the simulator. An AAV was meant to carry between twenty-one to twenty-five Marines not including the crew. So, with only thirteen of us, and no gear, there was a little breathing room, though the Squad Leader from First Squad and I had duck more than anyone else. They didn’t make these things for tall guys.

We got through one complete scenario before changing to get chow. This time it was a Navy Mess Hall, the Hale Aina dining facility. Just like the Army Airfield Mess Hall, the food was so much better.

When we got back, it was an afternoon of falling over each other in the semi dark. I didn’t think we did all that bad considering. Then again, my opinion didn’t matter. Today’s training was completely without stressors, so there was that.

We made the long trek back to K-Bay. I threw my gym bag next to the door so I could wash it after Japanese class. Hitting the Mess Hall almost made me late but arrived with two minutes to spare. Miss Miwako saw me for the first time in uniform, and she stared at me for a moment.

The cultural aspect we went over was something that she felt I was going to need sooner than later. She instructed me in the traditional manner in which someone would propose in Japan. I had to disagree with that sentiment, it was a few years away. The process seemed a bit outdated. Though who was I to judge someone’s belief system if it didn’t hurt anyone.

I was beginning to feel a little more comfortable in conversing in Japanese. Though when Ms. Miwako got going, I could only understand one or two words out of every ten. She seemed to think that I was doing great and reassured me of this as I left after class.

We were again greeted by a light PT session, followed by breakfast and back on the bus to Pearl Harbor.

We got stuck in a traffic jam due to an accident. Spending an extra two hours trapped in a bus wasn’t what I’d call fun. The antics of a bunch of eighteen- to twenty-five-year-olds had me at my wits end by the time we pulled into Pearl Harbor. The hypocrisy of that thought hit me.

Even in the first go round there were times that no matter my actual age, I acted like a stupid teenager. I believe that every male of the species has that idiot teenage living in them. Some guys are just better at keeping that idiot teenager from bubbling to the surface. It was an ever-shifting battle to keep that idiot and my inner rage beast corralled.

Our day at the pool started off the same but with a twist. We did some treading water and swimming, though there was a new addition. We would move across the shallow end, simulating having to wade ashore from the AAVP. We went and changed back into our BDUs and reviewed everything we’d been taught so far before being locked in the simulator. This was going to be potentially dangerous. That’s when I noticed the safety divers setting their gear near the pool.

There was one element that would be missing from our training. We would have no equipment or gear on. This was going to make things infinitely easier, but it allowed us to train more and gain more experience. We ran through the process a couple of times before going to lunch.

When we got back, the reality that this was dangerous set in with Sgt Le Pesant’s instructions.

“I’m going to stress to you Marines to keep your wits about you and remain as calm as you can during this training cycle. If something goes wrong don’t resist or fight with the safety divers.”

We ran through the procedures a couple of times before we did it live. You could cut the tension with a knife as the simulator was closed up and raised in the air. Once I felt it contact with the surface of the pool, there were a couple of minutes before the emergency was sounded. Then it became guys trying to climb over each other to get out. Even the First and Second Squad Leaders got in on the panic.

Sgt Le Pesant and Cpl Rosario were doing their best to keep everyone on task. It helped but didn’t completely nullify the guys that went out of their mind. Fear was gripping everyone.

We ran the exercise a couple of times, with everyone getting out and getting wet. It was by no means ideal or ordered, as one guy was complaining that his hand got stepped on. How the hell that happened, I had no clue.

Then we were informed that we’d be running the drill one last time and to make this one the best yet. I figured that they were going to pull something, being extra aware was going to be important.

Everything was reset and we got back in the box. You could feel it when the box hit the surface of the water. Guys were going on just like this was a normal day bullshitting the whole time. I started settling my breathing and began watching what was going on.

After a couple of minutes, I was looking around and noticed an issue. Glancing at the deck, it was obvious that there was water on the deck. Turning to see where Sgt Le Pesant was, a second issue popped up. He was nowhere to be seen; I didn’t notice any of the Squad Leaders either. It seemed we were on our own this time.

So, the procedure we’d been taught was that as soon as water was seen on the deck you prepare to exit. When the water hits ankle deep, you calmly and quickly exit the AAV. Seeing as none of the NCOs were in with us, I stood up.

“EVERYONE SHUT THE HELL UP!! WE HAVE WATER ON THE DECK!!”

The clusterfuck began all over again. There was chaos and more chaos. I leaned over to Mutellip who was sitting across from me while motioning him closer.

“When you see me get up to release the hatch, do the same thing on your side. Then we’ll try and get someone at the other end to do the same.

“OK Badzinski.”

I kept checking every so often, it wasn’t long before the water hit ankle deep. As I stood up and reached for the hatch release, I began bellowing.

“EVAC, EVAC. Release the hatches.”

I continued broadcasting it as guys couldn’t get it together. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, we got both hatches open. Then the real chaos began as guys were fighting each other to get out. I stood back until there was an opening and made my way out of the hatch.

Once we were all on the side of the pool, Sgt Le Pesant came over and told us all to go get changed for the ride back to the barracks. Once that was done, we boarded the bus. He used the ride back to critique everything that we’d done for the last two days. We were a captive audience, and he wasn’t holding anything back. We did OK, but our ability to work together under stress was woefully inadequate. He harangued us the whole ride back.

As we pulled onto the Base, he reminded us that we would be getting an early start in the morning as we had to be at the Armory at 0600. Muay Thai wore me down even more than I already was. It was a shower and lots of Tiger Balm before hitting the rack.

Waking up and looking at my watch, I realized it was Friday the thirteenth. Hopefully, it won’t be one of those days you hear about. Though it didn’t start off great, we did a Boot and Ute run to the armory, about three or four miles. Getting there at 0555, we had to wait two hours until they opened.

We spent the hurry up and wait time being informed as to how the day was going to go. We were being driven out to a range that was about a half hour away up in one of the valleys. Lunch was going to be MREs as they didn’t want to interrupt training time with driving back to Base.

Once the Armory opened up, the gunners were issued their launchers. We then ran back to the barracks parking lot where the bus from the last two days was waiting on us. It was an odd feeling, running the couple of miles with the SMAW slung tightly to my back. I wouldn’t be surprised if there weren’t bruises along my back in the next day or two. We took the bus ride to the upper part of a valley. The rockets were waiting there with the range safety officer.

He called us over and began our safety brief. He introduced himself as Staff Sergeant Tillich. Then he went through the norm safety brief that I was expecting. He called everyone to come in closer.

“I want you Marines to hear this and I want to be able to see your reaction and realize how serious a matter this is. There was a Marine Corps wide alert put out on Monday. It seems there was an incident at SOI East at Camp Lejeune. The incident was due to the lackadaisical attitude of a student which caused a severe injury.”

He let that sink in for a minute.

“The injured Marine has severe burns on the left side of his body, including a broken arm. They’re not yet sure if he’ll be able to return to duty or be medically discharged.”

There were a few thoughts that ran through my head. The guy who got injured, was he going to be OK? What caused the accident and were they going to Court Martial the guy who caused it.

“The assistant gunner failed to check and maintain control of the backblast area. The injured Marine has severe burns on over forty percent of the left side of his body. He is going to go through a long recovery process. WE ARE NOT GOING TO HAVE ANY LAPSES OF JUDGEMENT, ARE WE?”

There was a chorus of “NO STAFF SERGEANT”. Then the course of fire was laid out for us. Norbert was pissed off again, as he was only going to be able to fire two training rockets. Being Third Squad, we were at the end of the line. Cpl Rosario pulled me off to the side.