Marines' Duty Ch. 8Mature

All the vehicles within the Motor-T garage were parked against the walls, leaving a large space in the middle for tables chairs and a main floor. Most of Alpha squad was already at Motor-T and jumped in to help set up the celebration. After about a half an hour the building was ready to be rocked (thanks to a sound system snuck here from the states). Alpha, Charlie, and Bravo squads all took seats, intermixing and chatting. Walsh strutted over to one of the large tanker vehicles and climbed atop it, using it as a makeshift podium. 

"Marines!" He yelled proudly, everyone turned and shouted a 'Oorah' in reply. Any outsider watching may have compared us to the Spartans from the popular hollywood movie, 300.

"I have some exciting news!" Walsh paused, keeping newbies and veterans one the edge of their seats. "I am going to be a father!" The other soldiers and I, in the crowd below, broke into loud cheers and whistling. Some even applauding. Walsh grinned broadly and jumped down from the vehicle. A few of the cooks from the chow hall stepped inside the garage holding bags of chips, a keg of (not so legal) beer, and a cake. Many of the soldiers hadn't had such delicacies since being back in the states. We all tore into the chow, getting glasses of alcohol and practically chugging it. 

5 hours later

"You t...ttthinking ...that...I caaan't ffffight ur' sorry aaassss aand Wrong....FuCKerrrr!" Drunkenly, Walsh tackled  me to the ground. His speech slurred as I tried to pin the sergeant to the ground. Walsh was drunk as hell, giving me the advantage. I locked my arms around his throat, holding tightly enough to stop him from punching me in the face.

"Come on....MmmIcahaart....I'll kick yourrr sorrry aaaasss!" Walsh mumbled, trying to struggle. I laughed as the crowd surrounding us cheered and Thane counted down.

"Ten, Nine, Eight, Seven, Six, Five-"

"WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON HERE?!" The crowd of Marines, both drunk and not, parted instantly at the shout. Oh fuck me, I groaned as the Master Gunnery Sgt. stepped into the garage. My mood soured even more when I noticed Kujo smugly smiling, leaning against the door. Rat bastard sold us out. Instantly I released Walsh and snapped to attention, the rest of the group followed suit, some unable to. 

"Who authorized this celebration, cause I know that I sure as hell didn't! And..." he sniffed the air, curling his nose in disgust "is that Alcohol! I want to now who the shit bird that this party was for?" No one looked to Walsh, he was a good man and an even better soldier, he didn't deserve it. The Master Gunnery Sgt.looked around.

"WELL?!" Kujo walked proudly over to the Master Gunnery Sgt..

"I believe that this party was for Sergeant Walsh," then he whispered "his wife's expecting." The Master Gunnery Sgt.'s gaze snapped onto Walsh who looked up, eyes blood shot and in a drunken stupor. I couldn't let him catch hell not after all the shit he'd been put through. 

"No, gentlemen!" I quickly shouted, Kujo growled as both him and Master Gunnery Sgt. looked to me.

"Corporal?" Dick asked, a bit surprised, Kujo just scowled.

"Yes sirs, I'm celebrating my girlfriend leaving me," I paused then added "I'm glad the bitch is gone." I held my breath, hoping that the Master Gunnery Sgt. and Captain would believe the bullshit story, after all I hadn't had a girl friend since high school. The Master Gunnery Sgt. sighed and looked me in the eyes. 

"Your lucky your not getting demoted Corporal, but you're an adept soldier and I need you in the field. Report to me at 0600 tomorrow for your punishment. The rest of you clean this shit up and I'll forget you were ever here." Everyone scrambled to clean the large garage returning it to it's dingy natural state. Kujo and Dick left without another word, slipping out the door and into the Iraqi darkness. 


With the Motor-T garage clean Thane and Bishop went to help other squad's drunken men to their racks. In turn I helped Walsh. Only silence passed between us until we reached out tent. Setting Walsh down on his rack I proceeded to my own rack and laid down. Walsh remained still, sitting on his rack and staring at the tarp floor.

"Why?" he asked sobered up some what from the officers earlier appearance.

"You just learned your a father sir, you've been enlisted for 8 years and this is your third tour. The last thing you needed Walsh, especially with a child on the way, is a demotion or dishonorable discharge. I'm young and this is only my 5th year being enlisted, I can take it." I took a quick glance at Walsh he seemed to be held deep in thought, whether it was because what I said or the alcohol was debatable.

"Thanks Micahart, I'll pay you back for this...someday."   

The End

42 comments about this story Feed