Marine Corps Stories: The Bars

“That is, if it’s possible,” Staff Sergeant Pheifer Dakota said, exhaling vapor from an e-cigarette. The room in Okinawa, Japan swelled, and a great noise rose above the patrons and staff.

“I know it can happen. If we just have enough private businessmen willing to go there, we might have a chance,” Staff Sergeant Colbert Knox said.

“I don’t see it happening,” Dakota said while downing another boilermaker. What the—'' Out of the corner of his eye, he must’ve seen about two dozen Marines ranging from private to sergeant engaged in a fisticuff. “Hold my beer, Colby,” he said.

He made his way to the melee, and started separating Marines from the locals.

“What the hell is this shit? We don’t fight anyone but the enemy. All of you can disperse. Pick up your shit and go.”

*****

“And that’s how it happened?” Sergeant Major Alphonse Montenegro asked.

“Yes, Sergeant Major.”

“I hear differently. I hear you picked up Staff Sergeant Knox’s drink and drank it. Then, you rushed into the crowd like a madman and started throwing ’bows. Now what’s the real story here, staff sergeant?”

Dakota stood at parade rest in front of the smaj. “I give you my word, and say that it is true. The bars are out to get us.”

“What’s that?”

“You know the ‘American Village’?”

“Of course, Dakota. What does this have to do with my Marines fighting the people of this city?”

“I’m telling you the truth. The people lure Americans to these sites just to test them. The Marines get full of some good rot gut, and just like that, their fists are in the air. It’s a conspiracism.”

“A what?”

“It’s worse than a conspiracy theory because it has no base in reality like a theory would.”

Montenegro waved off the explanation.

“Let’s go back to that night. You’re sitting there smoking and joking, and then you see a commotion.”

“Yes, Sergeant Major. I then pulled Sergeants Garrington and Haas off a Japanese man, and Corporal Jenkins, Lance Corporal, and PFC Kee off of each other. By that time, the authorities had arrived, and had begun to haul both the locals and our Marines off to be processed.”

*****

“I promise to you Sergeant Major. Staff Sergeant Dakota did everything to stop the fighting...that he started,” Sergeant Haas said. “I’m not saying that he threw a punch, but he egged on the locals to start fighting us.”

Montenegro weighed the stories. He wanted to be as objective and judicial in his final word on the matter. He sighed and cleared his throat.

“The Marine Corps, as I’m sure you well know, was born in a bar. The recruitment office for the Revolutionary War for ‘the Navy’s Army’ saw it’s first post right there in Philadelphia. We’re over two hundred years removed, and thousands of miles away from that seminal moment. Now, I want Marines to relax and enjoy their libo. There should be enough time to take in a few drinks and get a good buzz going. But what I will not tolerate is for Devils to get saucy and start attacking the people welcoming us here. We being here is a growing concern of mine. I do not know why we’re still in this country, but that’s for people way above my pay grade to banter about in their offices. In my office, I want to make clear that my Marines will not be caught up in this kind of foolishness. I am securing libo and giving you Staff Sergeant Dakota a fresh NJP to add to your collection. How’s that sound?”

“Like you used your judgment, Staff Sergeant,” Dakota said.