As we
pulled into the gate at the entrance of Camp Foster, Leora and I collectively
realized that this craziness is almost over.
I have
been gone for little more than a month as part of the Fall Patrol for the 31st
Marine Expeditionary Unit. The patrol was
planned to be short (though they can always call us up and tell us to be on a
ship in 24 hours – that’s part of being the Marine Corps’ quick reaction force
in the area), but was shortened further by sad events in the Philippines.
A little
about our trip to the PI: We went down
to hone skills and work on our relationship with the Philippine military and
the local populace. On the former, we
did ok. On the latter, we excelled
(until the last day, and that wasn’t really us).
There is
a horrible ash-covered valley at the foot of Mt. Pinatubo; this God-forsaken
land is a training camp called Crow Valley.
Luckily for us, 3rd MLG’s Supply Battalion came in a couple weeks
earlier and made the place quite comfortable with Big Tents, Air Conditioners,
Laundry, Showers, and Port-a-Johns.
Don’t worry, and fear that the Marines have gone soft: It was still a
horribly hot place where the rain came in monsoons only to steam away moments
after it dried.
Outside the base, the
locals set up a little town with food vendors and merchants.
I bought
a cool thing for my desk.
My RP
flirted; a one-man public affairs mission.
My first
time that I walked out there with him, and all I heard, from every booth was a
flirty, “Hiiiii, Shawn” “Heeeyyy Shawn”.
Face meet
Palm. This man is supposed to be my protection.
“You said
you were only out here once?”
“Yes,
sir. I’m friendly.”
“Friendly?”
“Well,
after I had the lumpia at Joe’s, I brought 5 friends over there. Then at Anna’s, I brought 10 people to eat
her pancakes: strawberry banana. They’re so good. You want pancakes, Chaps?”
I do love
pancakes. But no.
During
our time out there, RP (Shawn) was one of the first people to eat the Balut (a
fertilized chicken egg hard-boiled complete with feathers, soft bones, and
beak).
Almost all the Marines ate the
Balut. I egged them on (I’m proud of
that pun), but didn’t tell them until after they finished that I did not eat
it. So gross. I’m pretty sure that several Marines (and RP)
ate a cobra, and I’m pretty sure a few (maybe RP) ate dog. I ate a coconut!
Good
public relations. A lot of money dropped
on an impoverished community. and Good
times. This was after-all why we were
there.
While not
as delicious, part of our mission in the PI was to connect the Marines together
with Filipino Marines and the American missions that had been a mainstay out
there for over a century. The CO is big on knowing your history; I offered to teach the class.
Aboard ship all the Marines attended a course on the Bataan Death March. We did the history of US
presence in the PI up to the war (bad), why I hate Gen MacArthur, Battles of
Bataan and Corregidor, and the atrocity of the March. The thesis of which is the atrocity of battle
and subsequent war crime brought the two divergent countries back together
again.
Somehow I
became a tour guide and led Marines through the Memorial Site not far from
where we were staying. It was pretty
neat. To read more: http://www.marines.mil/News/NewsDisplay/tabid/3258/Article/509898/31st-meu-marines-visit-bataan-death-march-memorial-following-phiblex-15.aspx
In
between all of this, the Marines trained with Filipino Marines. They trudged through rivers and mud. They traded uniforms and knives. It was all that we want from these
experiences and more.
In all
this, I also led High Holiday services on the Germantown and Peleliu, and also
out in the field. I set up a sukkah
aboard ship and in the field. There is
something weird about setting up a sukkah, which is itself expeditionary, in an
expeditionary environment (It wasn’t much different from the other tents out
there, except when it rained).
The last
day of the exercise, and we convoyed back to Subic Bay (where our ships would
be waiting). My Marines were pooped but
looking forward to liberty in town and eventually in Manila.
As of
today, a Marine from 2/9 stands accused of a most heinous act. I am not going to elaborate further on what
every newspaper in the world has reported, except to say that the Marine is not
part of the MEU, and his reported actions are those of an individual not the
Marine Corps as a whole.
The MEU
was locked down to ships in the harbor for the next week. No liberty.
No end in site. We just waited
(and came up with incredibly legal theories: corporals are good at that). While everyone wanted leave, more were happy
just to go home.
But when
I got back to base: The best was waiting
for me. A wonderful wife. A beautiful baby girl. (A wet-nosed highly excited puppy would be
standing by dutifully at the apartment).
This was
what we had all been waiting for (even if the latter two of those characters
don’t know that its what we are waiting for).
The downhill begins. Leora and I looked at each other as we entered the
gate, and realized that we have less than two months in Okinawa.
