The Brain Surgeon Report: A week in the life of a SgtMaj

Many Marines feel they have to deal with a lot of stupid stuff. They often think getting up in the morning is a pain in the neck. Having to shave is an inconvenience. Keeping their area squared away is imposing on their right to self-expression. The list goes on. Often I ask a group of Marines who among them thinks they put up with stupidity. Inevitably a forest of hands goes up until I bark, “Well try putting some rockers on and see how stupid it gets!”

Sometimes Marines do dumb things. Sometimes the stupid is radioactive.

For those who think your leadership has it easy, I offer you a snapshot of an actual week of my life.

Sunday night:

SgtMaj tours the barracks to discover Marines have spent the weekend in the smoke pit lounging in kiddie pools drinking beer. SgtMaj approves.

Monday night:

Two dipsticks decide to drive to another town to trade/buy a car from an acquaintance. The town is within liberty limits but just barely. The car they purchase is a 1971 truck. Said truck blows a tire at 70-80 miles about 40 miles outside of base around 2300. After rolling over a few times the occupants remain shaken, not stirred, and are treated at a local medical center with stitches and whatnot. One Marine looks like he was worked over with a hatchet, the other is on crutches. Though technically no orders or policies were violated, the SgtMaj still questions the judgment of two numb nuts who decide it’s a good idea to purchase a vehicle almost as old as their SgtMaj on a weeknight.

Tuesday:

A local car rental company calls the command to complain one of our Marines was supposed to return a car two weeks ago. They warn us they will notify the police soon. This embodiment of Corps values has been on our radar lately as his wife has left him and he’s been acting out against his NCOs and SNCOs. He’s a 8 year lance corporal if that clears anything up. After questioning the Marine he begins to break down and admit he’s involved in local gang activity, been getting high on meth, and basically the gang has taken over his life and have stolen his car. They also stole the rental from him. We beg him to stop talking and call Criminal Investigative Division. They whisk him away and said named Marine sings like a bird. He blabs so much info NCIS gets involved along with various investigators from the local PD who are all interested to know about gangs, drugs, and stolen cars. Basically the gang has taken over the apartment our hero lives in and infiltrated the entire complex. The rental car is now somewhere in Mexico and no one knows where his POV is. They have also threatened him on a number of occasions, go figure. It also turns out his wife is related to known gang members out of a nearby city. The sauce is indeed awesome. The Family Readiness Officer brings his backpack to the SgtMaj’s office and remarks: “Boy, that bag is heavy.” The SgtMaj’s heart begins to sink as he just KNOWS what is causing the bag to be so heavy. Opening the bag he discovers a 1911 pistol and a magazine of rounds. Fortunately the weapon was not loaded. SgtMaj has the weapon locked in the armory and keeps the full mag somewhere else. Gang ninja is released back to the command for the night, who lets him stay in the barracks.

Wednesday night:

The adventures of Dumbass #3. This brain surgeon was pursued throughout the area by authorities after his wife called 911 about a possible suicide ideation, domestic violence, and animal abuse. Numbskull left a suicide note/video on his phone for his wife but not after hurling their small dog against the wall. It is injured so badly it has to be euthanized. It is also reported he is bi polar and is off his meds. Alcohol is assumed to be involved (of course). Short version is the Marine’s car is found abandoned with the doors and trunk open. A gas soaked t-shirt is found stuffed into the gas tank and a lighter is found nearby (at this point the SgtMaj is slightly disappointed he didn’t successfully light his car on fire). Dumbass himself is found four miles away, butt naked with a knife and several self-inflicted lacerations. He is treated at the local medical center and eventually brought to the barracks early Thursday morning.

Thursday:

Dumbass #3 is sent into the esoteric depths of mental health. Early reports of euthanized dogs are proved false. The dog made it but has a broken hip and/or leg. Numbskull is brought to the office where the SgtMaj serves him with a military protective order and explains to him about how he will stay well away from his wife and home in the near future. He doesn’t understand. The SgtMaj explains it to him. He also claims he wasn’t drinking and that the events portrayed on the police report are not quite what happened. Of course, he also can’t remember too much from that night. The kid is slightly off and the SgtMaj wonders how in the world Dumbass #3 ever got in the Marine Corps to begin with.

Thursday cont’:

NCIS calls the command that they have contrived a plan to get the gang involved Marine out of the apartment without revealing he’s been singing to the police. They have contacted the landlord who will evict the Marine requiring a police presence. The command has arranged for movers to show up and pack his crap. Police are en route when gang ninja says: “I need to talk to NCIS.” When asked why he reveals that though most of the items in the house belong to him, there is a computer and five printers that are not his. He then reveals they are printing counterfeit bills. The NCIS agent’s reaction when told this: “HOLY F#&%!” All stop on the eviction plan. Brain surgeon is brought down to local PD where they eventually get a warrant. That evening they kick down his apartment door and arrest three scum bags and find drug paraphernalia and some ammunition. At this point the SgtMaj could care less about the details.

Thursday cont’:

The SgtMaj attends a retirement ceremony for a fellow SNCO who thought it was a great idea to hold a ceremony at 1800 in the blazing desert sun. His parting comments droned on and on as all the guests enduring the misery of the setting sun while all thinking: “Just. Shut. Up. Already.”

Friday:

SgtMaj attends a change of command at 0900. Here only 10 Marines fall out of the formation but at least it wasn’t in the evening at the height of blazing heat. Generals in attendance are happy with the ceremony. Jackassery has settled to a more manageable level by now. Administrative separation paperwork has begun on a number of idiots of questionable genetic origin.

Friday 1600:

The SgtMaj notices a U-Haul truck parked right outside the gate entrance to the building. A number of SNCOs are clustered about many of who say to the SgtMaj in passing: “Don’t worry, we’ve got it SgtMaj.” The SgtMaj begins to worry. Dreading explaining more malfeasance to the CO, he investigates. Turns out one of the squadron’s other serial dumb asses was checking out of the unit on the last day of his 10 day admin separation letter. He rolled up in a U-Haul with all his crap to say good bye to his buddies. Unfortunately, the parking lot outside the building is all covered parking which crushed the top of the U-Haul as he pulled in. The SgtMaj noted the worst the covered parking structure endured was some scratched paint. The full belly laughter of the SgtMaj filled the desert air as he pointed out to brain surgeon what a complete fucking idiot he was. Marines in attendance began laughing including the MPs who were writing him a ticket. The SgtMaj continued to point out there was a completely empty lot right across the street but he just HAD to pull up front because he’s a lazy dumb ass. In conclusion, the SgtMaj noted that he had done nothing but fuck things up for the last seven months and that 2015 was likely to be the worst year of his miserable life.

Friday 1700:

SgtMaj goes to the SNCO club to tell other SgtsMaj how awesome his week was.

Friday 1900:

SgtMaj tours the barracks before heading home. He is invited by Marines to hang out in kiddie pools with them and drink beer. It is tempting.

——————————————————————

To all my ninjas, in the end, poor decision making will lead to a poor outcome. If you don’t care about your fate, then please think of your SgtMaj and don’t be a jackass.

Semper Fidelis!

America’s SgtMaj

/ / / /

    16 comments

    1. Sergeant Majors are such a bunch of crybabies. C’mon Mike, cheer up, you made it through Friday the Thirteenth. Think how miserable you would be if all that crap hit the CO without you to filter it for him. Stay out of the officer housing area, you might find the senior pilots are all sitting around in kiddie pools, drinking beer; and it’s not even summer yet.

    2. I see that things have not changed much since I left Camp Pendleton for the last time. May I assume that “It seemed like a good idea at the time” is still the favored excuse for darn near everything? I had a great SgtMaj who told his people that he would grant a 72 to anyone who could come up with an excuse that he had not heard before. I don’t think anyone ever succeeded.

    3. Your gang banger takes the cake.
      Saw many s-bags unravel back in the day.
      When General Barrow was Commandant, a bright young Captain complained about all the dirtbag Marines with 6. 7, even 8 Article 15’s that he could not get rid of. Regimental staff tried to shut him up, but his fellow officers backed him. Two months later we got permission to discharge Marines with three or more Article 15’s. Processed over 30 out of my company before our next deployment to the Rock. Were undermanned, even deploying.
      Anyway, thought standards precluded that sort of thing nowadays. Wrong.
      That young captain retired wearing three stars, btw.
      Keep writing.
      V/R JWest

    4. I’m going to a CoC in 29 Palms later this month. @1300. Need to start a pool with the invited guests to see how many marines pass out while we sit under an awning.

    5. You think you had a hard week — some poor Red Cross instructor spent Thursday getting me certified to drive forklifts.

      BWAHAHAHAHAHA!

    6. SgtMaj:

      Some while ago my computer crashed and I lost your blog. I am most happy to have found it again.

      Paul L. Quandt

    7. Okinawa Japan, 1978. A group of us young L/Cpls and PFC’s were in back of the barracks consuming large amounts of beer with shots of Tequila in between. This was on a Sat night. The Sgt Maj, who apparently came from a booze infused back ground, came by for his walk thru of the barracks. Having one beer wont hurt. Pass forward to Sunday Monday at 0300 and the Sgt Maj is laying on the ground, and on his big ass fore head written in non washable marker…was…”Penis”
      I spent soooooo much time after that doing the rock painting, weed wacking and cleaning shit. But it was god damned worth it. The Sgt Maj, who is now in his 70″s and lives in Florida, still busts out laughing when I call and say…”Is SgtMaj Penis there?”

    8. Most SgtMaj’s sit in the office all days. To me, I think anyone can be a SgtMaj. I had a SgtMaj tell me that I should have at least 1 or 2 people up for NJP every month. I think I can take care of my own people. 30 years and I had one person go up for NJP and that because he said he had too much pressure on him. He was a MIMMS clerk. Feds brought him back, did paperwork and discharged him. Took him to the main gate (29 Palms) and left him. SgtMaj thought we should give him a ride to the airport.

      1. I don’t know who your SgtsMaj were but if they were tied to the desk all the time they were wrong. Ideally, my influence on the troops prevents the need to NJP. I also support leaving turds at the gate and waving goodbye. Have done it on occasion myself.

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