How Did I Get Here?

Quote of the Day: “Talk the entire way through the exam. Read questions aloud, debate your answers with yourself out loud. If asked to stop, yell out, ‘I’m SOOO sure that you can hear me thinking.’ Then start talking about what a jerk the instructor is.”

OK, let me explain.

Lance Corporal Scott is a legend in my personal history. Probably not for the reasons he’d prefer but none the less, I have a deep affection for this Marine.

Brandon and I used to work together when I was young and enlisted and he was to me, a little brother that needed guidance. Brilliantly gifted when it came to fixing avionic equipment but had the social skills of, well, he had NO social skills. He was the lovable “lost-in-the-sauce” LCpl that everyone who has ever donned the Eagle, Globe, and Anchor, knows someone just like him. Sometimes you hated his innocence/ignorance but most of the time, you loved him for the same reason. You just couldn’t STAY mad at him just like you can’t stay mad at a puppy.

I’ve written many stories about Brandon and a few of them have been published in books. Here are the links to two more memorable works:

Lance Corporal Brandon Scott

The Ride Over

Recently, I learned that Brandon had picked up the rank of Gunnery Sergeant and that fact was the only thing that could have shocked me more than when I found out he had picked up Staff Sergeant. And that he was now in charge of the very workcenter I worked at so many years ago. You have to understand, as a young enlisted Marine in avionics, there were no Officers around and my entire world had a Gunny at the top of the rank pyramid. To imagine Brandon there, smiling, is just…. surreal.

Not that I doubted his ability or his maturity over the years, but for forever and a day, Brandon will be that LCpl I remember over in Saudi Arabia and the one who couldn’t stop calling my wife “ma’am” despite being nearly the same age.

I had sent him an email in June when I found out he was at Cherry Point, NC but he had written back saying that he was just on his way to Advanced Staff NCO Academy and would call me when he could.

Today I sent him a reminder email and it got kicked back and it was then that I noticed that his number was in his signature line of the email.

So I called.

“Workcenter 650, LCPL (unintelligible) speaking, may I help you Sir or Ma’am?”
“This is Captain Grose, is there a Gunnery Sergeant Scott there?”
“Sir, Gunny Scott has been sent to Iraq.”

I nearly dropped the phone. My heart doubled in speed and my eyes started to mist as I fumbled for a coherent reply. My reaction was just as unexpected as the news and I was surprised at the wave of emotion that gripped me, not the least of which was a sudden flash of anger.

I realized that Brandon is the only person I personally know who was in the first Gulf War that was now over there again. And it was more personal because he was over there with ME the first time.

Dammit, Brandon was over there in 90 and 91! He lived through the sheer terror of scud attack and chemical scare. He already did his time donning and clearing his gas mask in panic mode, running for the bunkers scared as a rabbit on fire, quickly putting on his chemical suit and praying that it wasn’t too late. His skin burned in the Arabian sun just like ours and he missed his family just like….

Oh my God. His family.

They are having to go through this again. For 7 ½ months they had to live everyday not knowing if their Brandon was OK. He came from a huge family who would send him video tapes of large family gatherings at Christmas. He would send a large portion of his paycheck to them because they needed it.

They were worried sick and now they have to go through a second round.

Damn…..

Back to the phone conversation, another Gunny got on the phone and I explained who I was and how I knew Brandon. He told me that they had left recently and they didn’t have an address to contact him but that he would forward an email to me so I could at least try to contact him through email.

It’s hard to explain how I feel but if you are a parent, in a way I feel like you would feel if your son was over there but then I realize that’s because I still look at him as that innocent Lance Corporal.

He is a Gunny so I have to look at it as if a brother was going over. Yes he’s a Marine and yes it affects me to hear about any of the Marines over there whether I personally know them or not.

But knowing Brandon and knowing he’s over there now… it’s different. It hurts more.

Brandon, get your dumb ass home and in one piece. And that’s an order, you stupid son-of-a-bitch.

Semper Fi.

Free Advice for Today: “Host a backyard get-together for friends and neighbors every Labor Day.”

This entry was posted on Friday, August 26th, 2005 at 5:17 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Responses are currently closed, but you can trackback from your own site.