Reflections on the Corps: Happy Birthday Navy

Slightly more...

Happy Birthday Navy!!  Today you are 237 years old!  I've always thought of the Navy as the Marine Corps older, slightly mentally challenged brother that's always a little heavier than the rest of the family.

My experience with the Navy while in the Marine Corps has been a very beneficial one.  I don't know what the Marine Corps would be like without the hard work and dedication of the Corpsman, Chaplains and Chaplain Assistants.

As a Data Marine, it was easy to relate to the "Docs" in a way.  Both of our jobs in the military are very similar to the civilian sector (except when Corpsmen are in a combat environment) and we tend to get trampled over by higher ups all the time.  People abuse Comm because they can, and people try to BS Corpsmen because they can.  In this respect, a lot of times the Docs and Comm Marines build a mutually beneficially relationship.

Flamboyant?

My first real taste of how awesome the Corpsmen are was when we were at a field op in Fort Bragg.  Comm was getting completely $%!* on the entire time while the rest of the Battalion was just sitting on their rear ends.  After about a week, all of a sudden my nose just started bleeding.  First real nosebleed in my entire life and it happened right then, out of nowhere.  Maybe because of stress, maybe just from all the dirt and dry air.  Either way I couldn't get it to stop.  I ended up going to see the makeshift BAS (Battalion Aid Station or "Medical Clinic") and they had me hold it, lie down, everything.

Like a G6

Eventually the Medical Officer thought of another, infinitely more embarrassing way to try and fix it. That's right, it's tampon time.  They got the largest tampon they could find and shoved it up my nose.  It hurt like all Hades.

The only problem with this was...that it didn't work.  Minute after minute, hour after hour you could see the tampon expand and thicken with my sweet, luscious red juice.  I looked like complete hell.  Apparently I was also shivering uncontrollably and all the color from my face was starting to disappear.  Nevertheless I was still in good spirits.  Continually making interesting and probably fairly inappropriate jokes on my Navy brothers and sisters.

During the night the blood just kept
 soaking through.

This lasted throughout the night with no end in sight.  I was just bleeding and bleeding and bleeding, getting it all over my clothes and face.  They eventually had to "MEDEVAC" me to Womack Army Medical Center on Fort Bragg.  This was kind of weird because that's how I first met our Company Commander; he was  carrrying my stretcher to the HWMMV  (they wouldn't let me walk due to "safety reasons").

When I first got to the Army Medical Center Emergency Room, I walked in and saw this little girl, maybe two or three years old.  She took one look at me and started to cry.  Like really ball her eyes out, screaming.  All the other people there saw me, in my Marine uniform with blood all over my face and camis, and just gave me this look like I was some kind of alien.  It was a pretty funny experience.  I went to the head, cleaned up as best I could, and then waited to be seen.

As best as one could clean up
after something like that.

After about 13+ hours hours, 1 tampon, gallons upon gallons of blood loss and a heck of a lot of pain later, the Army personnel got my nose to stop bleeding (I later experienced nosebleeds almost daily while at 29 Palms for training).

That experience taught me a lot about our Corpsmen:

1.  They will always try and do what they can to help one of their Marines.

An apple a day?  Muslim Cok, the real green weenie.

2.  When the Medical Officer asks for a tampon to stick in someones nose, they will look for the largest, most uncomfortable tampon they can find to make sure you are as embarrassed as possible.  Super Deluxe doesn't even describe the half of it.

Throughout all the training and work ups for deployment, the Comm Marines and Corpsmen just got closer and closer.  We would always try to do whatever we could to make sure they were happy.  Heck, if some shit goes down and they need to choose who to save between Comm and Admin, we want to make sure Admin dies a glorious death.

There was this one time in Afghanistan that I remember.  The Combat Engineers for CLB-2 made a bench for around the cans to use when we were off work..  It was a pretty sweet bench if I do say so myself.  People would use it for cards or their computer and just relax.  These damn motherF*$#@%^ from CLR-25 kept taking it and moving it over to their cans, EVEN THOUGH IT SAID CLB-2 ON THE SIDE.  In the grand scheme of things, this isn't really that big of a deal.  But right then, it pissed a bunch of us off to no end.

Senior Chief with the two
coolest Data Marines in the Corps

The aforementioned bench

Well one day our Senior Chief at the BAS, a super BAMF by all measures, found out about it after they took it for what would be...the last time.  DUH DUH DUH!  Anyways she walked over there and just started screaming at them, putting them right in their place.  We all just stood behind her and watched, smirking to each other because it was the funniest thing we'd seen almost all deployment.  They just looked like a deer in headlights.

That's how it always was, someone sticking up for another person.  It's kind of true what they say; you are never really as close as when you are on a deployment.  Everyone just seems to come together and bond in that experience.  It's something that I know I'll never experience ever again, and I'm okay with that because it makes that one time all the more special.

Anyways, here's to the Navy on their 237th birthday and let's hope for another 237.  Semper Fortis.

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