01-23-2006, 7 p.m.:

Just take a second and ponder this. You are 18 years old, and you know for a fact that you have to make a life out of nothing. You explore your possibilities, and weigh out all decisions. Work minimum wage and attend a community college, or become a construction worker with a skilled trade. Not much to look forward to is it?

Getting high with your friends one day, watching TV, like any teenager of that age, you see a comercial that is about to change your life. that's right, the few, the proud, the marines comerical. Now, unlike you, your friends are going to University of Maryland at CP, and JHU, and Loyola, and yes, even CCBC.

You start feeling awkward because you know that making 10 dollars an hour as an electricians apprentice is nothing compared to getting to sleep in, and have your bills paid, and having your parents basically provide for you, while attending an atmosphere of new thinking and new horizons.

You then start becoming irritated that your friends are looking down on you as though you are second class. So you decide to make a change. You quit smoking pot, quit drinking, and quit hanging around the people who now find your anguish and hard work a joke. And all of a sudden, their mentality is of that of being better then the average person, because now they know a few new vocabulary words that may better prepare them for a life sentence in a cubical.

You join the Marine Corps. For 13 weeks you are made to feel worse then you ever have in your life. You are forced to do, breathe, and eat in a way that you never thought could be possible. You are taught new things, you are given new responsibilities, you are given a new roll in life, and a new family, and new friends. You do conform, but i must ad, you keep your identity.

You come back home to see the people who you loved. The girl you left, the family you forgot, and the people you saw everyday. Your girl is all of a sudden to good for you, because your a1 uniform ( the marine dress uniform ) doesn't match her American eagle hoodie. The family you forgot has moved on as though you died. The friends you vowed never to loose, Accuse you of being some killing machine reformist.

One day you get this letter, and it states that you have to go to a country on the planet that at one time, all you thought it was, was a rug. It actually took for me to look in a map where it was. Your put on a plane, as if you were a herd of cattle, you are given your last rights ( by a reverend ), and you are told to liberate, and set free a group of people who don't even want you there.

You are now 21 years old, you have all of your belongings in a bag on your back, and you have a piece of metal that is designed for killing across your chest. ( a riffle ). The first thing you see as you get off the plane ( after the base ) is mountains, children, and your best friends leg liquefied, and the remains of what was more and likely a knee cap splatter across your side. The next thing you see is college aged men firing pieces of metal that are once again, intended to kill.
Lets say this again, you are in a place where you are not wanted, or welcome.
You are so scared, you can hear the sand whisper. You are so scared, you can hear the hair on your arms grow. In the first month of being in this hell hole, you are given high fives by your CO`s ( commanding officers ) for killing another human being.
You are disgusted with yourself, and then all of sudden, you get sent to Iraq where similar situations happen.

When you get home, your family still lives as though your dead, your friends and now news, strangers, so on.. find you despicable, and the only people who understand were there, or demented individuals who would get off on killing and carnage.

So you see people, esp those whom i have offended. I saw first hand what you are against, i saw first hand and lived it, breathed it, feared it. And to come home, and have certain individuals look down on you. For being proud of doing something that you shouldn't be proud of doing. I understand. Now maybe you ll understand what i meant by normal. Maybe you ll understand my personal disgust amongst a few of you.

Normal to me is being able to completely leave it over there, not to be reminded of it in any shape form or way, to completely have new begingings.Yet i will never leave the Marines, I can forget about what has happened. Normal to me, means motivated, educated, great sense of humor, maybe even a little shy, because believe it or not, i am a little shy. And a pretty smile. A girl who takes care of herself, and can accept the fact there are things i can not talk about. Normal to me does not mean, protesting everything, contentious attitudes, and will do anything to provoke an idea that is not theirs, and will not accuse others of being ignorant because they simply do not have the same reich or agenda.

Just do yourself a favor. Because your all smart enough to do this. think. think about what you have not been forced to do, and if you were, could you do it ?
Being a Marine is the proudest thing anyone could be. But the ones of you who did not have to are some luckiest sons of bitches alive. Now, criticize me all you want, I know you will.

Sgt Normal Marine
Semper FI !