What They Forget

By EFMingo · May 22, 2020 · 883 · 12

They don’t talk about the listlessness.

It’s been around two years since I “got out” of the Marine Corps, and the itch to go back lingers day in and out. But that ship sailed with the breaking of my legs.

I’m a bit of a cripple of sorts (not wheel chair crippled, bless those poor bastards’ souls), though I probably will never run again. I’ll always have a limp in my right leg. No one escapes a broken patella, which the doctor describes when reading your CT scan as “kibbles and bits,” without a daily reminder of the fun. Best thing about that was, I broke my hip on the other leg at the same time, dislocating the femur from the socket, and I never even knew the knee broke. The brain can only focus on one extreme pain at a time. After five hours of dilapidated hospital adventures, they ask is anything else wrong, and when I tell them that my knee doesn’t been anymore for whatever reason, I ring around the circus once again. But the point of that is that I’m done.

I couldn’t go back if I wanted to.

When a Marine gets out normally, they tell you you’ll never find anything better, or that you’ll be living on the streets, or that some other God forsaken nightmare will bear itself down on your war-fighter's soul. But truthfully, none of that really happens to anybody anymore. What does happen, is boredom, and a lot of friends who moved on and left you behind.

You see, I never wanted to leave. As almost all who complete their enlistment, I was at the top of my game. A sergeant who ran an aircraft electronic shop. A known name, not just another boot or shower shoe or whatever other commonality of a designation others received. I had worked hard to get there. I was proud of where I was and what I did. I loved the twelve-hour days, and the heat of the airfield. Some of you can see that in my poem and story writing here. The draining suck of intakes in the desert/island/coastal sun. It burned in me. Still does.

When my time was coming, my five years running out, I wanted to stay. I was a lifer, as they call it; one of the few who actually believed in the work and the Corps. Most don’t. Serve their time and bounce. So, when it came down that I couldn’t reenlist, I was at a loss. I was leading the way and teaching all those under my charge, but my running ability from a freak accident was the end of the road. And what came wasn’t just the Corps abandoning me, but everyone else.

They tell you when you’re in your exit seminars that transition out is difficult, especially for Marines. The screaming, fighting, and generally dark humor just doesn’t cut it in the real world. The Marine Corps is a microcosm of anger bottled up to be released in the direction of the enemy. You’re literally always on your toes, waiting for some rampaging Gunny to come mess up your day. They try to pacify you, teach you how to be a person again, not the animal. But it doesn’t leave you. Especially if you believed in it.

And then they forget to mention the listlessness.

Sure, my life is pretty good. I have most everything I could want, and the job I have is stellar. But it feels like nothing. I bled over those aircraft daily. Fought off other likewise ranks to hold the billet I did, literally and figuratively. I won my place. But then the clock said time was up, and the Corps crossed the number off its list. And one by one, every billet I had was replaced by the next hungry candidate who couldn’t best me. And I sat there in the avionics shop, hunting for even the most minor maintenance actions just to feel needed.

But now I’m here, trying to fill the void with difficult work, a degree, home maintenance, and every possible other task I can find. But it isn’t what I want to do. It doesn’t amount to the struggle that I adored living by.

When you get out, everyone tells you how they wish they were in your position, how they can’t wait to throw the uniform away. It still hangs in my closet. Size medium-long MARPAT camouflage, sergeant chevrons still affixed in position, half-inch from each side of the collar. They talk about how much weed you’ll smoke and be free to get high all the time. Haven’t touched that since my first failed go-around in college. Have little intention to, as it never agreed with me to begin with. They talk about never having to listen to the thunderous roar of the F-18 engines again. Those jets still rocket over my house, on their way to Yuma or El Centro. I want to drive that five hours to catch them. I want to bring them in and solve all their gripes. Get grimy again in the sweat and JP5 that still wafts out of my garage cabin when I take out my old military coveralls.

They tell you about the new and better life you’ll lead as a leader in a community. How you’ll always be a Marine.

But they don’t tell you about the listlessness.
- Facebook
- Twitter
- Google+
- LinkedIn
- Pintrest
- Reddit
- Tumblr
- eMail
Mish, Historical Science, Malisky and 8 others like this.

Comments

My experience was different. The Corps spent two full years of my four-year contract training me to do a job and then put me where I couldn't do it and left my skills out in the rain to rust.

And the worst part of it is, when I look at those final two years, I had a much more active and useful enlistment than a lot of guys I went to that special school with.

But I knew it wasn't for me. When the career planner got ahold of me a year out from my DD-214 and asked me what my plans were, I told him "364 and a wakeup, staff sergeant."

But that "screaming, fighting, and generally dark humor", that "microcosm of anger bottled up to be released in the direction of the enemy," yeah, all that. That stuff didn't work so well in my first "civilian" job working for 9-1-1. Thought I would be a good fit, but not so much. It took years for it to finally come to a head, but I read the wind correctly and managed to get my letter of resignation in before the admin staff had finished typing up my termination papers.

Never been fired, no sir.

But damned if there aren't still days, nearly thirty years later, that I don't miss having sixty-five of my closest friends living down the hallway from me and willing to drink until dawn just because it's fucking TUESDAY!

Iain Aschendale, May 22, 2020
Very moving pieces, both of you, so heartfelt and clear. I never knew any of that, as a '60s antiwar type who drew a high number in the lottery a month before my induction date, having lost my college deferment through pot-linked hijinks and passed the physical despite a heart murmur (the examining doctor rejected my doctor's note about it, say "I didn't hear it"; this was during the heart of the Vietnam war and they were ignoring all health deferments except foot spurs). I often wonder how I would have fared in a military environment, if I would have even survived boot camp, much less deployment to Vietnam. I have serious doubts as to both and also wonder how, had I survived, I would have coped with the post-war stresses.

I had an uncle who served in WWII air corps combat in the Far East, and stayed in until retiring with the rank of colonel. My father also served in the air corps, stationed in the Aleutians on the edge but never quite in combat. He rose to master sergeant and was asked to consider officer training but he left at the first opportunity and, far as I know, never looked back. I had a laid-back cousin who also drew a high number but instead of celebrating enlisted in the Marines. He came back, far as I know, exactly unchanged.

Good to get some insights, and thanks both for your willingness to serve. EF, if I may be so presumptuous as to give advice, take care of yourself, maybe get some help addressing some of those issues. You deserve to be happier. Iain, thanks for your willingness to tell it like it is, even to the point of sometimes daring to disagree with me.

GrahamLewis, May 22, 2020
@Iain Aschendale I remember the rumors of that position. It was the highly coveted Pacific one that people literally fought over trying to get orders to. I could see why the skills disappeared, as I remembered it was one of the most laid back little vacations a Marine could hope to find. At least those were the rumors.

Any emergency work in the civilian world turns out to generally be one of the worst places for Marines to go, so I'm not surprised that happened to you. Nowadays, most any of them other than border patrol won't hire Marines because they don't pass the psychological evaluations. Not saying thy're crazy, but tend to be too morose, violent, or indifferent in nature to situations not inviting those responses.

I remember at the end of my training, through a crucible exercise, we had a squad rush where the drill instructor threw a dummy grenade at our formation as we buddy rushed forward. I jumped directly on that grenade to cover it and the instructor called me a "regular fucking Kyle Carpenter." This is a compliment in Marine Corps standards, and a high one at that. When I was beaten and broken trough exhaustive exercise, I jumped on the grenade to save friends, and knew at that moment the mental conditioning had finally got to me. If that happened in reality, I have little doubt I would do exactly the same. A lot of us really aren't right in the mind anymore, which serves very well in a fighting force, but struggles in the civilian world. I've somewhat come to the conclusion that Marines at least lose a part of their humanity when they volunteer, and when they leave, they have the option to try to fill that hole. But most never fill it back up completely. And the strangest part of all, is I often feel that a good portion of the hole is a good thing. Don't know what to make out of that conjecture.

@GrahamLewis , thank you for your kind response. Even now, people are pulled in with almost any condition. I had a friend with a heart murmur as well in the Marines. He hid it from everyone, but during the physical fitness tests he silently powered through. A few of us would slip off quickly behind him when he left afterwards and take care of him. Basically make sure he didn't die. He loved being there, and refused to not be enlisted. If the higher powers found out, he would have been thrown in the brig for falsifying enlistment. Marines are a strange brewed of people.

Maybe some day I'll talk to someone, but for now I have a blog. This is really my first time I've written a blog, or spoken fully about the issue. We're taught to fear seeing the psychiatrist in the military because of being separated medically for psychological reasons. They ingrain in us that we will lose all of our veteran benefits if that happens. Not entirely true, but the rumor mill runs strong. We hardly talk because that's what we believe we are supposed to avoid. This is a failing on their part that leads to a lot of damaged souls. I'll likely never talk to anyone about it professionally, but I can speak about it here sometimes I think.

Oh, and I promise not to drone on in the blog posts about mental illness. Not looking for an echo-chamber, just happy to release some things that have been on my mind for some time.

EFMingo, May 22, 2020
I don't hear droning. I hear seeking. They are different.

GrahamLewis, May 22, 2020
I'm not a former anything military, but I did grow up in the Vietnam War era, and many friends were either drafted or enlisted to avoid the draft. One of them enlisted in the Marines, because he said "If I was going to have to fight, I wanted to fight with the very best." He survived, and has written fiction about his experiences that are quite absorbing and enlightening to read. (He's not published, but he should be.)

Talking to him, and to others who survived years of actual combat in Vietnam, leads me to the position that the Military is set up to deal with extreme circumstances. Folks are trained to obey orders without question, to submit to conditions that are harsh, to say the least, to always be on the alert, to be willing to sacrifice themselves (literally) if called upon to do so, and a host of other things that a civilian does not normally encounter.

They get trained so thoroughly that this kind of life feels normal. And then they get back to civilian life, and nobody understands. And they can't react the way they've been trained to react, so they kind of swither around, feeling disconnected. I don't know if there is a difference between willing peacetime enlistees and unwilling wartime draftees, or ones who experience actual combat and those who are only ready for combat that they never actually encounter. There might be.

I can't believe for one second that the experience doesn't have a massive effect on an ex-soldier's life. My own dad was an enlistee (but a reluctant one) in WW2. He was a non-combatant with the Postal Service and never experienced a battle directly, but I know the experience was such that he never talked about it. Only once in a while would he mention something that happened ...and it was usually a funny story about life in the tropical camps or on board the troopships.

The thing he did mention once, with tears in his eyes, was about being in one of the first groups to visit Nagasaki after the bombing ...and he said he could never have imagined anything so awful. And that was the extent of his 'memoirs.'

I think he just shoved it aside and got on with life, as did so many of his generation. I think it helped that the general impression was that it had been a 'just war,' and that the ex-soldiers were heroes and would always remain heroes. Unlike Vietnam, which was a war that should never have happened, and one which the USA 'lost.' Those soldiers must feel so ...kicked? I know my friend feels that way. He said when the word came out that the war had ended and the US was pulling out its troops, he actually started screaming with rage. It was the realisation that he'd fought 'for nothing' and his comrades had died 'for nothing' that drove him to the brink.

jannert, May 25, 2020
Would you say the military trains you to see things in black and white? Friend/foe. Right/wrong. Yes/no. Do/don't. Survive/die. Win/lose. Etc. Whereas civilian life tends to be an endless parade of grey zones? And that makes it difficult for an ex-Military person to know what to do when they step back into civvy street?

jannert, May 25, 2020
@jannert, there is an excellent book called On Killing: The Psychological Cost of Learning to Kill in War and Society by a guy named Dave Grossman that covers a lot of the techniques used to take ordinary men (it's from the 90s) and teach them how to kill without hesitation. It also details some of the techniques that have been unconsciously developed over the millennia to help soldier (broad sense of the word) re-integrate into society and deal with their wartime actions.

Iain Aschendale, May 25, 2020
Thanks, @Iain Aschendale . I'll order it now.

jannert, May 25, 2020
@jannert with some things yes, but most thing no. At least nowadays, the military has quite a bit more gray area, especially in regards to defining who the enemy actually is. We all see the gray, but we know the benefits of authoritative leadership as well, and the detractors of democratic leadership. I find the most difficulty in working situations where there should only be one voice on a managerial issue, the manager's, but I hear and endless stream of other's interjections that waste time and create confusion. Military mindset makes me want to yell out for everyone to shut up, which is acceptable in a military setting, but of course not in the civilian world. There is also a few other factors that just don't appear in civilian life that make the transition difficult.

First, you can't "fire" someone. They may suck at life, but if they haven't done anything illegal, you're pretty much stuck with them until they get new orders, if they get new orders. And if you are their leader, it's a lot like head of household. Your child may be doing a lot of disappointing things, but a good portion of that is your fault in monitoring them and the style of your parenting. Truly, it directly applies. Some take that to mean treating them like children, but that's not true. You need to give respect to get it. They just don't know the way of the culture, or rather conglomeration of all cultures simultaneously. So you train them and teach them as if they were family. You raise them. Most of these kids come in with no family to speak of, or one they left long ago. When they get "hired" under your charge, you shape them to the person you want and need them to be. Neglect them, and they turn wild. You become not only their mentor in the job, but also in their lives. And you don't get rid of them. So applying all that civilian life, it's difficult to see people with personal bad habits or lack of discipline, and not do anything about it. Many get in trouble for being "draconian" over minor issues. In the military, we knew these minor habits grew into major issues. But we didn't have the freedom to deviate.

Which brings up another difficulty. Military members give up their constitutional rights when they join. We fall under the Uniform Code of Military Justice instead, but can also still be charged in violation of Constitutional rights, though we don't utilize the benefits. This means a loss of freedom of speech, freedom of press, right to protest, and so on. Laying out negative opinions on the internet can get you formally charged. This is why you hardly see military members posting anything about their work or the stress in their lives. It's simply illegal for them to. So they bottle it. And when others start complaining about their boss or their situation, they react negatively to shut them up. This is somewhat to stop the annoyance, but this is also what they do to protect people from getting in trouble. After years of living this way, it becomes a cultural aspect to them. They want to shut you down to protect you from incriminating yourself. Also, you can't be a slob. It is illegal to look bad in uniform. You must follow regulations on wearing any and every uniform, including civilian clothes, and failure to comply leads to increasing punishments. There is no body positivity movement or acceptance. There is only the scope of the law, which you must obey. This makes modern cultural protests difficult for us to get behind. Not because we're against them, but because they don't fit the range in which we were trained to accept.

There are many more reasons, and as you notice I'm making these non-combat related to show how the normal military member experiences difficulty, but I'd like to touch on one more. People need to remember that, especially in regards to the Marine Corps, the individuality of the Marine is at its core broken. The first thing they do is spend four months breaking you down so badly that you can't help but accepting heir way of life as to not feel the wrath and pain anymore. This is where the screaming comes in full force. Many novels are written on boot camp, but I've yet to really find one the covers the break down experience correctly. You are taught that every way you handled life before was wrong, and this is the only way. Anytime you deviate, pain occurs, and you become mentally conditioned to follow orders through fear and anger. For many, that anger never leaves. They exit the Marines as angry as when they left boot camp. They become hateful individuals, searching for their old selves, but likely never finding them due to the ingrained way of life. I admit, it's hard to break. I entered that wold because I needed that discipline driver. I wouldn't suggest anyone does unless they need it too. That being said, when you exit, suddenly everyone is an individual. Their habits may be better or worse. It's like entering and entirely different county where you don't know the language, and now you can't go home.

Now, I know my experiences are my own, and these statements are pretty general, but as far as I've seen, they apply to a lot of the peacetime military members who exit with an honorable discharge like me. Of course the experience doesn't apply to all.

EFMingo, May 25, 2020
Wow. I'm sure learning a lot today.

jannert, May 25, 2020
One thing that civilians really don't realize about military life is the level of casual profanity and threats that make up a calm, everyday conversation. This is one thing that Hollywood has to undersell; a transcript of a group of soldiers/sailors/Marines/airmen having a civil discussion would get a hard X for language alone. One time when I was home on leave I was having dinner at my dad's house. I wanted to ask him to pass me the saltshaker but I had a brainfart and couldn't think of the word so I subbed in what we all did at that time.

You know, kind of equivalent to "thingamajig."

"Dad, can you pass me the motherfucking goddamn goddamn please?"

One of the reasons I mentioned Grossman's book is that threats of grievous bodily harm and even death are just vernacular. A lower-ranked Marine who was chatting with a friend while someone one or two steps up the totem pole had something to say might be told to "shut [his] goddamn fuckhole for a moment" in a calm and friendly tone.

Or he might be screamed at and made to do pushups or bends and thrusts (burpees) to muscle failure. Those are both legitimate courses of action for a corporal or a sergeant to take when faced with idle chatter.

At my first post-military job I joked to the boss of the whole outfit that while the 9-1-1 center itself had bulletproof windows, his corner office had regular glass. He took that as a veiled threat. I probably meant it that way, but it was the sort of threat that would go largely unremarked back in my unit.

When in uniform (@EFMingo, do they still have the stickers?) we had to watch every vehicle passing us on base. There were base registration stickers that you had to get to have your car on the station. Red ones were for enlisted men and safe to ignore. Blue ones were for officers and we were required to salute the stickers affixed to the windows of cars passing us on the street. These stickers were about 3 inches long and maybe a half inch wide, down in the corner of the windshield, and like EFmingo mentioned above, a failure to salute that sticker, no matter who was behind the wheel, was at its heart a criminal offense.

So yeah, I gotta sleep.

Iain Aschendale, May 25, 2020
Can't sleep just yet, seems they've phased them out, but here's what they looked like. The speaker grille on the dash behind it gives you an idea of the scale.

C

Iain Aschendale, May 25, 2020

To make a comment simply sign up and become a member!

Log in or Sign up

What They Forget

Comments

Sort Comments By

Useful Searches