Did you get an Article 15? What was yours for?

Being a marine, I got tangled up with a surfer chick and took a couple a days extra off, E-3 to E-1 fined

On my duty day, aboard the USS Bowen, I commandéered a truck. With a buddy, we bought 2 packs, picked up girls and got drunk on the beach in Charleston. Came back that night and requested "permission to enter the patio, daddio."

Kinda long-winded, but perspective is needed:

USAF - Was stationed on a mountain-top remote in Turkey for a year ('86-'87). Derelict airman on the main base in Ankara had, for some reason, a grudge with ALL personnel stationed on our site. Our site is invited to Main base Christmas party - lots of free booze and a bunch of drunks from a mountaintop...not conducive to good behavior. My best bud gets in a scrap with aforementioned derelict and we all get hauled in. No real repercussions, but we are all told to NEVER interact with this individual again. Ever.

Fast-forward to my last week in-country – about a month later. I’m at the NCO club with a bud and the derelict comes up and starts harassing us. Incessantly. We move to the bar, he follows. We move to the common area outside, he follows. I tell my bud (who lives downtown) – “you need to leave; get a cab and go home.” I have to wait for a shift-run back up the mountain, so I don’t have a choice. Bud walks out to the bus shelter with me – across from the main entrance and sky-cops – and I reiterate that he needs to leave. Airman Derelict and his friend have come out looking for us. Last chance bud – he stays; Honorable, but a mistake. Derelict immediately starts spewing crap – verbally only….at first. I say nothing to this puke. Finally, he pushes me. 12 months on a mountaintop come out in berserker fashion. I don’t remember much until the Sky-cops are pulling me off and calling medical. Bud and I get taken in and I catch Drunk and Disorderly. Never blew, but was seen in the club. Bud catches LOR, but I get AR15. Derelict overnights in the clinic for a couple days.

Two things happened after this. First, as a morale boost, we are having “Beach Week” on the site. 6,500 feet up. In winter. 12-18 feet of snow and sub-zero temps. Uniform of the day is summer or beach attire – no exceptions. We had the only (to that point) female commander to make it through a full tour on a remote (first two or three were busted for fraternization). I’m at attention, in shorts and a scrub shirt, receiving my AR15 from my female commander (USAF Cpt.) who’s in shorts and a halter. I swear by all that’s Holy that this is true.

Second thing that happens, a week later, when I’m en-route to McGuire AFB to port separations, is I get recognized by one of the sky-cops that was there that night. “Hey – I know you!” No…no I don’t think so. “Yeah! You were the one that got into it with Airman Derelict!” So, now I’m in a bind. If these guys are friends with him, I’m screwed. If not, maybe it’ll be okay. I admit that yes, I had an unfortunate run-in with said individual. “Dude! You F@&ked him UP! We’re buyin’ you drinks until we land!” And they did. Turned out okay – and never bit me later on.

Got Charge-sheeted for: Smoking a joint while serving in 3rd Marines back in 1981, got two weeks restriction to the Barracks and a suspended bust, got another in 1982 for a fist fight in Anderson chow-hall at K-Bay, got a suspended bust and restricted to the Barracks for two weeks, got another while on float for fighting at a bar in Perth, Australia.....I go to Captains Mast, got 3days in the ships brig, got another for fighting at a Club in Olongapo on the same float....got 3days in the ships brig again.....went up for another charge-sheet while on my 2nd WesPac after missing movement in Sydney...had to have the Aussie water taxi take me to the ship, And then another in Olongapo again for a riot we got into at a Navy Seal Bar off Migsaysay Drive......only because I showed up at sick bay the next morning wanting the Doc to stitch me up....I got 12-stitches, a page-11 entry and Liberty Canx the remainder of our time in Subic......Note: My Plt Commander's Libo was canx also being we were all in it together....we left Subic four days later......Only a squid and a Jarhead will appreciate this.......I love you all.....Hau'oli La Hanau (Happy Birthday Marine's)

During NCO school while everyone was at chow hall I wrote on the black board. Chesty son's name was Peter. The Gunny was pissed when he opened the curtain covering the black board. Sent me to the Tops office who restricted to the barracks for the night. Foot note no one got to leave that night because we had to get ready for a big inspection

I once was given a task to watch a fellow shipmate when we were in Greece to make sure he stayed out of trouble. He made it back to the ship, the shore patrol found me drunk and passed out in a gutter hours later still ashore. Never got a 15, but was scolded pretty bad. ;-)

Seagulls LOVE to crap on sailors in formation. Sailors detest seagulls. (No, this isn't the Alka Seltzer trick, though that works...)
Dam Neck Naval Missile School in Virginia.... 1981.
They had just opened two three-story barracks beachside and as luck would have it, only two of us shared the entire third floor. One Saturday the gulls were being particularly nasty, nearly bombing us several times on the at back from chow. A quick stop at the tiny PX acquired us two folding Wrist Rocket slingshots and a couple hundred .25 inch steel ball bearing seconds for ammo. Shortly we were firing ranging shots out of our bedroom Windows. One truly nice shot of mine took the top knot off of one big bird. It died so fast that it's wings didn't fold instantly. It sailed on around the corner and out of sight.

Then came the inevitable sound of screeching tires and a solid thud.

This was a corner room, so had Windows on two walls. I wish we hadn't looked. Sticking our heads out of that window was what did us in. There sat no less than the Old Man's new Pontiac with a cracked windshield and a mess all over the hood.

No stripes lost, (because he said it was a helluva shot.)
Half a month's pay.
And we washed that car, and his wife's, every week for for the remainder of our orders there.

Not my AR15 -- and the offender was a civilian, but I'm not sure exactly what happened to him. I'm confident that NJP would have done this dumbass quite a bit of good. Anyway, Here's my side of the story. From what I can tell, there are about 1500 other sides of the story that all go somewhat similar to mine.

I was a Doolie at USAFA in the summer of 1988. It was an interesting time in my life and I was in an interesting place. 2nd Classmen were riding us pretty hard and we were about finished with the first half of BEAST, (BCT) the summer program. More importantly, we were all in pretty good shape. The upper classmen harassed us enough in the dining hall -- how to pass the food properly -- who to ask for what -- how many chews per mouthful were allowed -- everything just shy of "squaring" the meal (by eating at right angles). I mention the food part because it's kinda important. I have to say that we were all pretty well-fed since we were Air Force (kinda) and college students (kinda).

Of course, we were out every day drilling, PT, some classroom stuff, but mostly military stuff... well, I mean it was not "real" military stuff -- it was the Academy -- so it was their version at 7258 feet above sea level. So, we got pretty dehydrated, too.

I wake up one night -- in early July -- in the middle of the night -- maybe around 2am. I usually didn't have trouble sleeping - since they drilled us all day -- I was generally wiped. However, the intercom system kept squawking and I kept rolling over and going back to sleep.

But then... OH MY GOD I wake up... I didn't know why, but I knew I was gonna PUKE. I was SICK. I wasn't immediately sick, but I was going to puke SOON. I figured I had a couple of minutes, but it wasn't going to be long. However, I was in my room at night -- and in order to not get my ass chewed for being out of uniform outside of my room, I had to dress in the "night uniform." So, I put on my slippers and bathrobe (no kidding, we had a night uniform) and exit my room and march down the hall at full attention, my arm brushing the wall ... my feet not exceeding the width from the wall that was permitted... my back at rigid attention... my chin shoved so far back into my neck that it almost hurt... my elbows locked... my fists cupped with thumbs pointed at the ground... and I start heading down the carpeted hallway of dorm.

Now, being an underclassman with a whole six weeks of experience under my belt, I knew that there were "upper classman" bathrooms and specially-assigned bathrooms for freshmen. Of course, the freshman bathroom was around the corner and waaaaayyy down the hall. As I get to the corner, I realize that the upperclass bathroom was right there and there was no way I was making the underclass bathroom.

So, now the decision point -- do I get my ass chewed for going in the upperclass bathroom at 2am? ... or do I get my ass reamed for puking on the carpet in the hallway? I go for the upperclass bathroom. As I enter and open up the door to the bathroom stall, and then it all came together... the reason for the intercom messages (which I later put together that they were saying things like "The Cadet Clinic is Full. If you have sick Cadets, send them to the Base Hospital.")

You see when I opened that bathroom stall door, I saw (and smelled) that someone else had also been in this bathroom and puked, but they missed the toilet... like a lot. When you have to puke and you smell puke - there is no stopping it. You are going to vomit.... and when you've been practicing to max out the PT test on situps because your pull-up score sucks -- your ab muscles are pretty damned impressive at propelling vomitus at a very high rate of speed and volume.

... So here I am, maybe 2-3 ft away from the toilet standing in the stall door --- my mouth opens and vomit starts spraying out -- projectile style. It's not a little -- it's like a freaking fire hose of vomit. To this day, I remember thinking to myself, "Damn, this is pretty cool." I must have sprayed vomit all over that bathroom stall. I think I even got some in the toilet.

I clean myself up the best I can, and march down the CQ desk. There's some upper-classman I'd never seen before at the desk. I knew he must have been an upper-classman because he was not dressed completely in the night uniform -- and he had hair on his head -- so I report in. He asks if I need to go to the hospital... which I decline... and he sends me back to bed.

So, why did 1500 of us get sick at the same time? The story goes that there was a person in the dining hall who was cleaning drains with a hose ... and then used the same hose to wash the celery before making the chicken salad. I'm not sure exactly what happened to this guy -- but I think it was worse than than NJP.

Ask any of my classmates from True Blue '92 if they eat chicken salad to this day -- I'll bet most will say no.

Told a SSgt who was full of shit, that he was full of shit. Best 6 months as a PVT I've ever spent. Well worth it; the street cred was worth more than whatever they took from a Marine who already had nothing.

Calling a Senior Chief petty officer a "back-stabbing son of a bitch"

I deserved it, but he was one.