🚨FLASHBACK 🚨
Marine Privates are a whole different species. Not “special,” not “unique”; basically feral. Like if you crossed a Rottweiler with a live grenade and gave it a uniform two sizes too big.
I was one of these majestic disasters once. I pray I was at least marginally less of a walking liability than the specimen in the video below. I’d like to believe even I would’ve known Clorox doesn’t belong anywhere near your bung-hole, but honestly, I can’t confirm.
My first year in the Corps is just one long, angry mixtape of “WHAT THE FUCK, SWAINSTON?!” bouncing off cinderblock walls and N.W.A. blasting on repeat; that same defiant verse about being tired of the [mother fuckers] jackin’. At least I knew that when I finally got tired of them jacking me, I could handle it. Lyrics that are still burned into my brain even though I threw Cpl. Slack’s cassettes against that same wall more times than I can count.
If I blacked most of it out, that’s not trauma. That’s my brain doing me a solid.
God, save this 👇 young man 🙏
Ukrainian soldiers digging trenches during the early days of the war found artifacts from World War II.
Nearly 80 years later, the same trenches are being dug for the same purpose.