Just found a bunch of my old USMC buddies on Facebook. I don't know what took so long for it to click in my head that they might be on there too. I have always thought of them from time to time. Remembering all of those military experiences that cannot be described by words. Telling stories at home and at work about funny events. Like the M-16 buried in the sand, or sliding down a mountain in Norway. Occasionally I'll pull out pictures that I took during those days. The older I get, the younger the faces smiling back from the pictures.
There are whole days when I cannot believe that I was a Marine. That I completed the most difficult, most efficient boot camp on the planet. Or that I spent most of the 1990's training for war.
Of course, those days had a massive impact on shaping the man I have become. And I still fly my Marine Corps flag proudly, still wear my USMC jacket, and still lovingly mock anybody in any other service as being just a little sub par compared to Marines. But sometimes it is hard to believe that I went through all of that.
Sometimes I pull out my dress blues and hang them where I can look at them, and remember that the biggest reason that I did so well and had so much fun as a Marine, was the guys that I served with. They made it fun, and funny, and in those crappy times, they made it bearable. So Wib, Pooch, JD, Slick, Duck, Gerkin, Schutzie, Mahood, Captain (Major) Scott, and everybody else. Thank you is not powerful enough to describe my gratitude to you all for all of those times.
Semper Fi my brothers. That sums it up nicely.