MC 3 Old Unit
Tracks of the StoneBear Copyright MCMLXIII Uncle Hargus ALL Rights reserved
ROF= Ring of Fire Odyssey
MEF-H = Marine Expeditionary Force- Hargus
MC = USMC journey
My Old Marine UnitAmos, Pictured below here is my Old Marine Corps Unit; 2nd Platoon (AKA 2nd Herd), 2nd Bridge Co, 8th Engineer Battalion, 2nd Marine Division Fleet Marine Force; on a Search & Destroy patrol, doing some recon work up shit creek. Our battle cry was "Often Wrong, but Never in Doubt". ... sometimes it was "Semper FUBAR".
Due to the drought it was tough going here but you can always count on the Marines to complete the mission & get the job done.
Semper Fi, 'til I Die!! Uncle Hargusl
Ps; later on we closed w/ some militant Nuns & lost the paddles in the ensuing firefight. Those Bastards!!
Pictured--
Starboard side-R side- F to back; "4 eyes" Brunguard, "Phantom" Merson, Keith "The LAZ" , Uncle Hargus AKA "Grit City"
Center- "Gopher" Gandolf, Rit AKA "Mouse"
Port side -L side- F to back ; "Jumpin' Jack" Holifield, "Left turn" Livingston, T - O "The Operator", "Upstate" Diantonio
???& You wonder why i'm the way i am???
What's my secret? Lesson 1 from the old Marine: Well, first of all, don't underestimate what getting shot at does to your killer instinct. But mainly, my secret is simple: the only good enemy soldier is one stumbling around, searching for his lower jaw. Hooah!
Personally, in combat, I think of Jesus. Then I remove mercy, love, and all of his teachings like that turn the other cheek & Golden Rule BS.
And then I pretend I'm the Son of God; And that makes dispensing poetic justice a whole lot easier.
Also, I don't know if you ever played with fireworks as a kid, but a rifle is like a giant firework. Ka-boom! Fun! Only when you make the ka-boom, some dumb foreigner cries for his mommy in a wet poof of meat flakes and smoke doin; the kickin' chickin', and damn... it's a feeling I can't describe.
Sure, being shot at is part of the game. A good part. Cuz every time you dodge a bullet, you score extra Rage Points. And then when you get your kill, you get to cash in those Rage Points while you're standing over the enemy corpse. Now whether that means frisking its frontal lobe with your bayonet, or unloading a whole M-16 clip up its shitbox, that's up to you. They're your points. You earned 'em. Ooorahhh!
& you ask? what do i do back here at home? Well..... this warrior does what any red-blooded, non-faggy American man does. You know, the usual. I drink beer. Oceans of fucking beer.
That's right, when I'm stateside, in between important secret missions, I wake up at 5AM sharp, crack open a brew-ha-ha, then sit in my kitchen nook and stare. Around noon, I have a buzz on and maybe I nuke up a Hungy Man or a couple of Hot pockets.
Afterwards, I play "Power Hour", & hit it hard, w/ some real manly drinks(not some sisssyfied frozen daquri stuff or wine coolers), where I take a shot of straight Seagrams every minute,... until I feel like dancing. Maybe I put on some Highway Men, or Dwight Yokam, and hell – I fuckin' dance like a Phillipine hooker. Once, when I was in the jungle outside Quang Tri in '69, I stumbled on a group of Uncle Ho's dipwoods who'd got chewed up by a mortar I lobbed at them. One of the sons of bitches was half pancake batter, and by the time we'd found him in the bush, he was too weak to fight off a boar who'd done started munching on his neck. And that fucker deserved it! So I danced!
And I still love to dance! & they're REAL dances too. Real Manly dances, like the Monkey, the Swim, the Boogaloo, & my favorite; the Peppermint Twist. Then some West Coast Swing, East Coast Swing, maybe some Lindy Hop, been known to Bop 'til i drop, & the ladies absolutely love doing the Wild Will shuffle w/ the Old Marine, some Jitterbug & Cajun/Zydeco Mammou. Hell, one night i danced so hard it started fuckin' raining,... buckets. & another time danced so hard that Indians showed up at my house & wanted me to go hunt Buffalo, then go War w/ the Sioux. & If it's a special occasion like July 4th; i'll forego horseshoes & toss the practice grenade some.
Anyway, by nightfall I'm ready to get busy, so I start oiling my personal basement arsenal, and maybe, if it's a special occasion, I'll take a cheese grater and give my nipples a good hard thwack. Of course, by then, I'm tired & forego some shooting, so I whistle Taps into a bullhorn for the neighborhood until I drift off to sleepy-poo in my Elvis jammies.
You never drink twice from the same stream.
Just because you wander doesn't mean you're lost.
Uncle Hargus: Last of the Independents
Have Bear,
Will Travel
StoneBearTracks Copyright Uncle Hargus MCMLXIII ALL blog posts/photographs/video ALL Rights reserved
ALL Blog posts/photographs/video Copyright MCMLXIII ALL Rights Reserved
