The Journal

Issue date: 5/3/07 Section: Opinion/Editorial

I remember the moment like it was yesterday, a defining moment in an already eventful life. I was fishing in Evergreen, Colo. just outside of Denver with my late uncle. I was home on leave from Marine Corps infantry training, the four-week course that directly follows the 13 weeks of hell known as boot camp.


The radio was tuned to a local station when the announcement came on the air … Iraqi forces had invaded the sovereign country of Kuwait. Former President George Bush had denounced the invasion and promised military action.


Suddenly, my mind reeled, I knew deep inside my heart I was going to war. WAR! Not war … WAR! The impact of the thought ricocheted through my brain. The brutal training I had endured in order to develop into a marine, arguably one of the finest fighting forces ever assembled in the history of the world, was to be put to the test.


I had a flash of fear followed by nervous, scattered streams of unconscious thoughts and feelings.
Flash to hanging out at my friend's house four years earlier, most likely drinking beer instead of being in class, and watching the movie "Full Metal Jacket," featuring the most accurate portrayal of Marine Corps boot camp I have seen. I decided then and there to join the Marines.


The friend I was watching the movie with decided at that moment to join the Navy; he wanted nothing to do with the Marines. I used to watch him across the bay in San Diego as he was relaxing in Navy boot camp while I was doing so many pushups I felt like I was sweating blood from my pores. We reunited in the Persian Gulf on the U.S.S. Tarawa, where he was stationed and my squadron was transferred after our first ship hit a mine and was disabled during the Gulf War.


I went to the local recruiter and asked about joining the Marines. I asked him many questions about what I would experience. He talked about traveling the world. He talked about how I would meet lots of girls because I would look good in my uniform. He talked about getting into great shape and he talked about service to my country.


My recruiter never told me that one of my jobs would be to toxify the environment, to pollute the waters and the air that support our life, our world. Had he mentioned this when we first sat and discussed my future plans as a member of the few and the proud, I would have thought twice.


I prided myself on my environmental awareness and activism. Nobody I knew had ever been in the military, nor had they ever wanted to as far as I knew. I was totally oblivious to that life.

Continued...

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