At 17 I enlisted in the Marine Corps. My attraction was the uniform and front line service. I have never been one to put up with a support role. I need to be hands on with everything. Continuing this theme is that if I was going to kill it needed it to be hand to hand. I believe that to take a life you need to watch the light fade from the others eye, otherwise it is just rude and weak. So I have no respect for pilots. What they do is like a video game.
Then I was told about Pararescue with the Air Force. It was my dream job. Getting to help people in extreme danger behind enemy lines. So I switched my enlistment to the Air Force and trained physically for two years before actually going in(Pararescue is extremely difficult to get into). My recruiter told me that I needed to pick 3 other jobs in case I didn’t make it into Pararescue. I thought there was no way I wouldn’t make it so I told him to pick for me because I didn’t care.
Fast forward a ways and I have failed out of Pararescue School(Too weak of a swimmer. Damn you water!) Now I find out that my job is as aircrew on a spy plane. Sounds cool to you but I was pissed. I had just lost my dream job and what’s worse is that I’m in a super support role! I did not take this well but my dual personality kicks in again. I play the part of perfect military man(Perfect uniforms, taking care of my fellows, no drinking, no issues off duty), but on duty I make my hated of the job well known. I say how weak and lazy the Air Force is and how all they do is watch TV and get paid too much. This leads me to constantly being confined to quarters, being assigned cleaning duty, etc.
A little side story here. I was once confined to quarters for a month so I had my friends buy a couch and bring it to me so we could all hang outside of my room. We lived in three-story dorms with rooms only big enough for a bed and desk. During one of my special “surprise” inspections I was told by my First Sergeant(see below) that I couldn’t have a couch on the walkway outside my dorm room. I’m sure he meant for me to get rid of it since it appeared too large to get into the rooms, but that isn’t what I decided to do. With the help of my friends we got the couch into my room. It took up all the floor area and the front door only opened enough to let my skinny butt in. The next inspection was hilarious to me as I watched them try to get into my room.
One day my First Sergeant (who was a dick that I loved pissing off) called me into his office for the normal talk after I had left a letter on my desk where I had turned the Pararescue creed into an insult of the Air Force(It was quite good and I still have a copy in my discipline file in case anyone is interested). After the usual Blah Blah Blah he asks me what my problem is. I tell him that I want a transfer to the Marine Corp because the Air Force is too lazy and lacks discipline. He responds with, “Consider yourself demoted to E-1 and taken off flying status. How is that for discipline?” Without hesitation I respond, “That is punishment, not discipline,” and walk out.