MARINE ARROGANCE 

In honor of our Corps’ 242nd birthday I attempted to write a heartfelt tribute only to stumble upon this outstanding explanation of “Marine arrogance.” 

In December 2013, a Marine Sergeant wrote this in response to a comment posted on the Marine Corps’ website complaining of “Marine arrogance”.
The Sergeant responds,
“I think that’s what makes Marines special, if only in our own minds, is that elusive Quality of Esprit D’Corps. It’s the fact that we, as individual Marines, don’t feel that we are individual Marines. When we wear our uniform, when we hear our Hymn, when we go into battle, we are going with every other Marine who ever wore the uniform.
Standing behind us are the Marines who fought during the birth of our nation. We’re standing with the Marines who fought in WWI and gave birth to the legend of the “Tueful Hunden”, or “Devil Dogs”. We are standing with the Marines who took Iwo and Tarawa and countless other blood soaked islands throughout the Pacific.
We are standing with the “Frozen Chosin” and our beloved Chesty Puller. We are standing with the Marines who battled at Hue City and Khe Sanh and the muddy rice paddies of South East Asia. We are standing with the Marines who fought in Desert Storm and Iraqi Freedom and now, are fighting in Afghanistan.
Like real brothers, their blood courses through our veins, and when we go into battle, we would rather lay down our lives than be a disappointment to them. We carry on our backs, their legacy, their deaths and their honor. We carry that for the rest of our lives.
The Marines Corps uniform doesn’t come off when our active duty is over. We wear it daily in our attitude, and our love of Corps and country. We wear it on our tattoos and our bumper stickers. We wear it in our hearts.
It’s why, no matter where we are in the world, on November 10th, every Marine celebrates the Marine Corps birthday. It’s why we’ll never be an army of 1. It’s why we never stop being Marines. It’s why, for most of us, being a Marine isn’t something we were. It’s something we are.
It’s the most important part of who and what we are. Some say we’re arrogant. We say we’re proud. We have a right to be proud. We are the United States Marines the most feared and ferocious group of warriors to walk the face of this earth.
When Americas’ enemies formulate their battle plans, they plan on going around Marine units, because they know Damn well that they can’t go through them. We are what other branches wish they were.
We are the modern day Spartans. This isn’t bragging. It’s written in the battle history of our country. When there’s a parade and the Marines march by, everyone pays a little more attention. Some say “arrogance”. We call it “pride”. It’s why, in a crowd of service men, you can always spot the Marine. Why are Marines special? I don’t know. We just are.”
If that doesn’t make you want a giant slice of birthday cake, nothing will! Happy Birthday Marines!
Entertainingly Yours,
Cassie

YOU DON’T RATE MULCH

Truer words never spoken. The problem was, I had no idea what those words meant.

My Marine and I were stationed on the West Coast and loving life. We were settling into our base housing bungalow and getting started at our new duty station. One day I was out gardening my little spot of heaven with birds chirping, barefoot children running and jets flying overhead. Glorious. Pausing for a moment I noticed a landscaper throwing mulch into garden beds. He was up the street at one of the senior leader’s quarters not more than a half block away. Oh, I thought- free mulch! I scooped up what children were within arm’s reach and confidently approached the hard-working man.

“Excuse me, sir,” I politely interrupted, “Can you explain to me how I go about having mulch delivered to my quarters?”

He paused briefly and shifted not unlike a sports car flying down the freeway, suddenly coming upon a traffic jam.

He turned, looked at me and asked, “Where do you live?”

“Right there,” I pointed.

He squinted as the morning sun glared in his eyes, paused for a moment and said,

“You don’t rate mulch.”

Seeing the look of confusion on my face, the kind man went on to explain. You see, just a few doors up were higher ranking active duty who were afforded more perks and benefits within the realm of military housing than those of a lesser rank. Fascinating I thought.

“Well,” I asked. “What do I rate?”

He looked at my yard and replied, “Fertilizer.”

Score.

That day I came to understand yet another piece of the military lifestyle puzzle. Everything is worked for and earned even down to the minutia of base housing. There are so many “understoods” that go along with being a military spouse. For example, I personally understand that I cannot and should not park in the E-9 parking spot at the Exchange. I did not earn that spot and would be in a state of total disrespect to those who did. I cannot and should not park in any of the designated spots at any base activities to include clubs, office buildings, Commissary and the like. I conducted exactly one minute of research on your behalf (a phone call) and confirmed that these “cannots” are not actual base orders but courtesies and part of our military culture. Don’t embarrass yourself or your active duty spouse by participating in the slow chipping away of our customs and courtesies. Embrace them and have within yourself the desire to carry them on long after you are gone.

This “understood” also applies in base housing.
Ask any military spouse and the majority will tell you that yes, indeed they have driven through the housing neighborhoods of higher ranks in a motivating moment of aspiration. Someday honey…
It’s a wonderful thing to have collective goals and dreams with your husband or wife. It is a bond that ties when there is so much pulling you apart. Deployments, training, work ups and every day duty.

Nobody likes being told no, or coming to the realization that your neighbor on base rates something that you cannot have. Even something as simple as mulch. 
As I work in my garden here in base housing prepping for the oncoming winter, I get a chuckle from my mulch experience.
I thought you might appreciate an update. I recently called housing to see if my husband rates mulch yet.
Yes, I was told, but only once a year, in the spring, and I don’t get to pick the color.
Score again.
Entertainingly Yours,

Cassie

Show and Tell

As a young boy, my husband often found himself in places he should not have been. This includes (but is not limited to): His older brother’s bedroom, the living room that his mother kept so perfectly and, of course, his step-father’s study.

Occasionally, he will recount for our children the day he snuck into the study and simply started looking around.  His step-dad, a Vietnam era fighter pilot and Colonel in the Air Force, was an old school, American fighting man. His office, like so many others, was visual proof of a long and illustrious career of honorable service to his beloved nation. Certificates, trophies, citations and mementos from worldwide travel hung on walls and sat on shelves.

In his search for nothing in particular, my husband came across a pen. But, this was no ordinary pen and my future husband knew it. He quietly slipped the pen into his front pocket and tip-toed out of dear old dad’s office.

 Next stop… Show and Tell.

Raise your hand if you remember Show and Tell. What a great opportunity to share the doll you received for your birthday or new baseball bat you received for Christmas. My husband was and has never been that predictable. He was an over-achieving Kindergartner, not to be outdone.

As he was called up front to present, one can envision the class patiently waiting for the next classmate’s turn (perhaps even a little bored, depending on what their fellow students had brought to share). Like a magician playing to a full house, with drama and flair, Joe removed the pen from his front pocket and thrust his arm high in the air. On the front of the pen was a woman dressed in a black one piece bathing suit.  When turned upside down, the suit slowly dropped to reveal a nude woman. He turned it right side up and voila, she was dressed again! Point up, naked lady. Point down dressed lady, and so it went. For a five-year-old, it was mesmerizing to say the least.

As an educator myself, I imagine his teacher sitting at her back desk possibly grading papers and probably paying little attention to the items brought from home that day. I also imagine her, upon looking up and seeing the unpalatable pen, pulling together her 1970’s poly-rayon dress and scaling not only her desk but subsequent desks much like an Olympic hurdler going for gold.

A day that will go down in infamy at The Kiddie College of Orlando, Florida.

The military culture also has a form of Show and Tell, though nowhere near as scandalous. As far back as I can remember, there have been ceremonies and socials, recognition and recitations all in an effort to send the message “well done” to an active duty service member and often times their spouse. But what happens when the party dies down and the parade is over? You find yourself with a collection of really amazing, one-of-a-kind awards, photos, trophies and certificates. Fast forward a few decades into a career and you have what the military sarcastically refers to as an “I love me” wall. Some may even think it hearkens, “look at me, look at me, I’m awesome, aren’t I?”

Not really.

 A properly hung wall inspires the next generation to create their own accomplishments. Everything on the wall is a story to be shared. A memory to be pondered and a piece of history for all who observe. It is a celebration of camaraderie and the relationships forged during adversity and challenge. A display of gratitude to all the people who served along with you. It also gives our younger service members a sense of enthusiasm and offers a glimpse of what he or she may experience while serving. The wall acknowledges combat experience, multiple deployments, personal achievements, promotions and displays an overall dedication and love for country.

In the simplest of moments, the awards wall is a fabulous conversation starter and point of interest during a unit gathering in your home. I have actually seen people tear up when recognizing a comrade in arms or recalling a fond memory with a unit.  Honestly, how many people do you know who have earned the title of Shell Back for their first crossing of the Equator or own aerial shots of themselves in an F-18? It is always fabulous and always interesting from your first plaque to your certificate of retirement.

Unfortunately, it is not all guts and glory. If you are a cut-up, your farewell gift may reflect that. I recently heard a friend describe a gift her husband received from the unit as a farewell. A toilet seat that when opened revealed a picture of himself. Brilliant. Why didn’t I think of that? Would that go on my wall? Absolutely.  I’m sure they hang well but it would have to be the right color of course.

If you are just starting out, I encourage you to hang with pride. My husband’s “I love me” wall is my job (by choice) to create every time we move. I find a place of honor in our home for the branch he serves in, pride in my country and to reminisce about our amazing experiences together.

Sadly, there still is no room for the naughty pen on our wall.

Entertainingly Yours,

Cassie

That Moment

There are seminal moments in everyone’s life. The birth of a child, receiving that much desired promotion, the loss of a loved one, a long-term goal seen to fruition and of course the moment you meet “the one.”

They all seem to change us, good or bad, forever.

I remember meeting my Corporal and experiencing that feeling. You know the butterflies in the pit of your stomach type feeling that cannot be pushed aside. As our relationship progressed my interests became his and his interest became mine. He talked about the Marine Corps – a truly foreign entity to me. I wanted to impress him and checked out an obscure book on military operations. Almost thirty years later the only thing I recall is why the “scrambled egg” embellishment is on the white Officer’s cover – we will save that for another entry.

I remember to this day my first social event. A beautiful tea hosted by the Commander’s wife in her historic home on base. My then fiancé received special permission from his company commander for me to attend, as I was not an official Military ID holder! I had no idea what to wear, I had no idea what to expect. What struck me immediately upon entering the event was that this group was different, different from any other group I had ever seen. Well coiffed women, sharing polite conversation, discussing training and deployments, acronyms flying. That entertaining moment was one of my seminal moments. It wasn’t about a party or decorations, it was about the leaders and their spouses taking time to mentor new military families- the future leaders if you will. An age old tradition of customs and courtesies that if lost could prove tragic.

Upon leaving, I vowed I would become a subject matter expert on everything military spouse related! I accepted every invitation and opportunity to volunteer, assist, host or participate in general. It was on-the-job training if you will and I loved it.

Whether newly engaged or married for decades, we are all quick to testify to the unique challenges and ever changing landscape of the military lifestyle. I honestly believe it is the duty of every seasoned spouse to impart their experiences and wisdom upon the upcoming generations. That is why I am penning my decades of experience into words. Through a meal shared and a toast made, bonds are created, relationships grown and the preparation to send our loved ones into harm’s way begins.

Entertainingly yours,
Cassie