Today is the 250th birthday of the United States Marine Corps, founded on 10 November 1775. Congratulations to the Corps and all its members.
I have a particular reason to thank the Corps. After the Vietnam War, a number of former US Marines didn't want to go back to the USA, because anti-war sentiment was rampant and they were fed up with being accused of being "baby-killers" and sundry other pleasantries. Instead, they wanted to go on "killing commies", as some of them put it. A number of them made their way to southern Africa, joining the armed forces of South Africa and Rhodesia. I met several of them in both countries.
I've never forgotten one of them in particular. I won't name him, at his request some years ago. I was a raw recruit, lying prone on the firing line during basic training. I was bored, shooting a few rounds, waiting for score, then doing the same again ad nauseam. The blistering hot African heat didn't help matters. I muttered something to the man alongside me, something like "When are we going to stop wasting time on this **** and do something more interesting?"
I felt a kick on my outstretched boot. Rolling halfway over and looking up, I saw one of our instructors, a former US Marine now wearing South African Warrant Officer insignia. I shriveled internally, waiting to be reamed for talking out of turn and assigned punishment PT. Instead, the Warrant Officer just looked tired. Glaring down at me, he said, "Recruit, an amateur practices until he's got it right. A professional practices until he can't get it wrong!" He didn't wait for a reply, but turned away to sort out another recruit who wasn't doing what he was supposed to be doing.
I've never forgotten that moment, or his words. They became a mantra for me, and I'm sure they kept me alive in some engagements during my military service and afterwards. From 1976 through 1994, South Africa was plagued with constant internal unrest, terrorism and authoritarian crackdowns. I had the misfortune to be on the scene, in and out of uniform, for over 100 shooting engagements. I bear some of the scars of those years to this day. I kept that former Marine's advice firmly in mind through it all, and that mental and physical preparedness (as well as, of course, the grace of God!) is probably the only reason I survived those years.
So, thank you, USMC. I have personal cause to be grateful to you!
Peter
"Recruit, an amateur practices until he's got it right. A professional practices until he can't get it wrong!"
ReplyDeleteYou know, I've heard the exact same quote about leaning to play a musical instrument or how to prepare to play that instrument in public. Playing a concert is only very rarely a life or death mission.
The other quote I like is about attitude and performance. A professional does the job the right way regardless of how he feels about it. No cutting corners just because the inspector will never know.
ReplyDeleteGod bless the US Marine Corps.
ReplyDeleteTrue words... and applicable!
ReplyDeleteThere is nothing more dangerous than a bored Marine. The wife and I were at 29 Palms (the Marines call it 29 Stumps) to see our son and his 1,500 buddies as they were leaving for an all expense trip to Iraq for the second time. As we were wandering about, we noticed a group of Marines gathered around so we joined them. A gunnery sergeant was demonstrating how to use a government issued can of Off and a cigarette lighter to torch an ant hill. The dozen or so Marines were having great fun and enjoyment before their long trip to Iraq.
ReplyDeleteI also learned something else that trip. I was driving my Ford Expedition around the base at the posted speed of 30 mph. All of a sudden, three Marine Abrams tanks came up behind me at a much higher speed than 30 mph. As that lead gun was pointed at my back window, I hurriedly made a right turn. The tanks took off at a very high rate of speed, throwing asphalt road chunks all over the place. Tanks own the road, they don’t slow down for crunchies.
ReplyDelete