Marine Corps Stories: He that Shall Remain Nameless

The beer looked enticing, and would stay as cool as it was in the convenience store beverage case on its way home through the chill of the October weather outside in Dover, Delaware.

“I’ll be watching the game tonight,” a Marine told the clerk.

“I see you’ll be comforted just in case your team doesn’t win,” Abdur Mirza said with a toothpaste smile.

The Marine smirked. “They’re not losing tonight. I bought this to celebrate their victory,” the Marine replied, laughing.

Then the door suddenly burst open.

A boy no older than 14, pointed a pistol sideways. After briefly, and calmly, assessing the situation, the Marine reached for the weapon. A second boy, presumably an accomplice, scrambled frantically out the door.

With an expert flip of the wrist, the Marine turned the young man around, taking control of the firearm in the process. Little did he know his decision to point the weapon horizontally, likely because he’d seen it in a movie or on TV, made it easy for the Marine.

Mirza called 9-1-1, and the Marine continued to restrain the youngster until authorities arrived.

“What the hell were you thinking, kid?” The Marine asked.

Silence.

The Marine continued: “It doesn’t matter if you don’t talk to me. You’re going to have to open up to the cops and the judge. That’s not until Monday morning. You’ve already lost, and your little buddies are going to be caught eventually. All you have to do is let me know why, man,” The Marine continued. “You could be doing so much more than trying to knock off a liquor store. If your aim was to get a few dollars from my friend here, you were sorely mistaken. That hunger, that angst I felt, too. I’ve been to jail before. I had to get waivers as thick as an old school encyclopedia to get me out and allow me to become a Marine. They might say the same thing to you. All you have to do is wait a few years. Your record might even be expunged by then. Either way, to get a mask and a pistol and hold up places isn’t the route. So you’re going to take this loss and make it a learning experience.”

Silence.

Red and blue lights flashed on the walls of the convenience store. Delaware State Police Officer Sheryl Cardley entered the store and found the suspect in The Marines hands.

“This is your guy,” he said.

Officer Sheryl apprehended and cuffed the young male. “Let’s walk outside, you two come along,” she directed the order at Abdur and the Marine.

After securing the suspect in the back of the police cruiser.

“Tell me what happened,” Officer Sheryl commanded. She looked at Abdur, who held his hands out.

“Don’t look at me, officer. We have a real live hero standing before us,” Mirza said.

She shifted and looked at the Marine straight in his eyes. “Can you tell me?” she asked.

“I was just standing in line trying to get my brew, and this guy just came through the door brandishing a pistol. I knew from my Marine Corps training not to take shit from anyone. So, I grabbed the pistol, and shut him down. The kid must’ve seen one too many movies, because he had the gall to try to rob this man’s store. Thankfully, he’s the only one injured in all this, or rather his chances of staying free over the next few years.”

“We certainly appreciate your ability to use self-defense to neutralize this threat. What name can I put down as a witness?”

“I’d rather not say. Just let everyone know I’m a Marine, and we’re prepared for whatever, whenever.”

“Thank you for your service and what you did there. Rah.” Officer Sheryl said, rolling up her sleeve to reveal an Eagle, Globe, and Anchor tattoo.