AFTAC's satellites had detected.
Even so, the Colonel thought, best not to ruffle the local authorities' feathers. Authorized or not, God, please don't let them shoot any civilians. “Major, make sure those Jar Heads understand the mission—secure the target with minimal force and hold for the arrival of domestic federal agents.”
Mathis Field Air Fiesta, San Angelo, Texas
GySgt Rodriguez had been keeping an eye on her Marines from the shade of one of the Osprey’s short wings when the Air Force came screeching up in a blue Humvee. An overly excited military police Lieutenant hopped out of the Humvee and ran over to the aircraft demanding to know who was in charge. Rodriguez saluted the officer and replied that their LT had hit the head and would be back momentarily and could she be of any assistance?
“Sergeant, we got a call from somebody in the Pentagon telling us we needed to get some small arms ammunition to a group of Marines over at the airport. I guess that means you.”
“Well Lieutenant, we are the only Marines around here so we must be it. You have any idea as to why the Pentagon suddenly thinks we need live ammo at an airshow, Sir?”
“I don't know, Sergeant, but I got my orders. And somebody has to sign for this stuff.”
“Well, that I can handle,” the Gunny said, accepting the clipboard from the agitated Air Force officer. She signed the receipt and then shouted over her shoulder, “Sanchez, Reagan, Davis! Relieve our blue brethren of their burden and store the cans on board.”
“Hey look, Sanchez!” shouted Davis, “the Zoomies brought you some ammo.”
“Damn, I didn't know the Chair Force delivered,” Sanchez replied, taking two ammo cans from an SF Airman at the back of the Humvee.
“Next time don't forget to bring your own ammo and we won't have to, Jar Head,” the Airman shot back. Rivalry between the services often led to the exchange of insults, and sometimes bar fights.
“Knock off the chatter and get the lead out, Marines,” yelled the Gunny, ending the inter-service banter. “Thank you, Lieutenant. Hmm, sixteen hundred rounds of linked and 5,040 rounds in stripper clips, I wonder who they think we are going to fight out here?”
“Not my department, Sergeant,” the Air Force Officer called as he climbed back into the idling Humvee. “Good luck, whatever it is.”
Rodriguez waved at the departing fly boys and started walking back to the Osprey. “Corporal Sizemore! Where are my Marines?”
The beefy Corporal stepped around the front of the aircraft and shouted back “Kato and Doc White went off in search of some snow cones or something, Gunny.” Referring to PFC Herman “Kato” Kwan and HM2 Belinda “Betty” White. The Marine Corps has no medical personnel of its own, relying instead on the United States Navy Hospital Corps for medics and doctors. Technically, corpsman White was not a Marine but a Navy sailor. Her rate and rating were Petty Officer 2nd Class and Hospital Corpsman, the medic equivalent of a Marine Sergeant.
Hospital Corpsmen serve as enlisted medical specialists for both the Navy and Marine Corps. Navy corpsmen, traditionally called “Doc” by Marines, are highly skilled and are often deployed in the absence of a licensed doctor as Independent Duty Corpsmen. In fact, White, with skills in demand in the civilian market, was the only one in the squad who was leaving the service voluntarily. She had also volunteered to come on the air show mission, seeing it as a last, safe adventure before leaving military life behind.
Before the rise of irregular warfare and low intensity conflicts, corpsmen wore a red cross armband and went unarmed. Nowadays, when corpsmen accompany combat units they dress in the same uniforms as the Marines around them so as not to present an inviting target to the enemy. They are armed and virtually indistinguishable from regular combat Marines, except for the extra medical equipment they carry.
“Find 'em.
Even so, the Colonel thought, best not to ruffle the local authorities' feathers. Authorized or not, God, please don't let them shoot any civilians. “Major, make sure those Jar Heads understand the mission—secure the target with minimal force and hold for the arrival of domestic federal agents.”
Mathis Field Air Fiesta, San Angelo, Texas
GySgt Rodriguez had been keeping an eye on her Marines from the shade of one of the Osprey’s short wings when the Air Force came screeching up in a blue Humvee. An overly excited military police Lieutenant hopped out of the Humvee and ran over to the aircraft demanding to know who was in charge. Rodriguez saluted the officer and replied that their LT had hit the head and would be back momentarily and could she be of any assistance?
“Sergeant, we got a call from somebody in the Pentagon telling us we needed to get some small arms ammunition to a group of Marines over at the airport. I guess that means you.”
“Well Lieutenant, we are the only Marines around here so we must be it. You have any idea as to why the Pentagon suddenly thinks we need live ammo at an airshow, Sir?”
“I don't know, Sergeant, but I got my orders. And somebody has to sign for this stuff.”
“Well, that I can handle,” the Gunny said, accepting the clipboard from the agitated Air Force officer. She signed the receipt and then shouted over her shoulder, “Sanchez, Reagan, Davis! Relieve our blue brethren of their burden and store the cans on board.”
“Hey look, Sanchez!” shouted Davis, “the Zoomies brought you some ammo.”
“Damn, I didn't know the Chair Force delivered,” Sanchez replied, taking two ammo cans from an SF Airman at the back of the Humvee.
“Next time don't forget to bring your own ammo and we won't have to, Jar Head,” the Airman shot back. Rivalry between the services often led to the exchange of insults, and sometimes bar fights.
“Knock off the chatter and get the lead out, Marines,” yelled the Gunny, ending the inter-service banter. “Thank you, Lieutenant. Hmm, sixteen hundred rounds of linked and 5,040 rounds in stripper clips, I wonder who they think we are going to fight out here?”
“Not my department, Sergeant,” the Air Force Officer called as he climbed back into the idling Humvee. “Good luck, whatever it is.”
Rodriguez waved at the departing fly boys and started walking back to the Osprey. “Corporal Sizemore! Where are my Marines?”
The beefy Corporal stepped around the front of the aircraft and shouted back “Kato and Doc White went off in search of some snow cones or something, Gunny.” Referring to PFC Herman “Kato” Kwan and HM2 Belinda “Betty” White. The Marine Corps has no medical personnel of its own, relying instead on the United States Navy Hospital Corps for medics and doctors. Technically, corpsman White was not a Marine but a Navy sailor. Her rate and rating were Petty Officer 2nd Class and Hospital Corpsman, the medic equivalent of a Marine Sergeant.
Hospital Corpsmen serve as enlisted medical specialists for both the Navy and Marine Corps. Navy corpsmen, traditionally called “Doc” by Marines, are highly skilled and are often deployed in the absence of a licensed doctor as Independent Duty Corpsmen. In fact, White, with skills in demand in the civilian market, was the only one in the squad who was leaving the service voluntarily. She had also volunteered to come on the air show mission, seeing it as a last, safe adventure before leaving military life behind.
Before the rise of irregular warfare and low intensity conflicts, corpsmen wore a red cross armband and went unarmed. Nowadays, when corpsmen accompany combat units they dress in the same uniforms as the Marines around them so as not to present an inviting target to the enemy. They are armed and virtually indistinguishable from regular combat Marines, except for the extra medical equipment they carry.
“Find 'em.
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