Marine Corps Stories: Zombie Squadron

“There was this one squadron that was deactivated, and then it saw recommission in just seven years.”

“That’s right.”

The two Marine avionics engineers made some calculations for the aircraft on which they were working.

“I used to be a part of the squadron you’re talking about,” Lance Corporal Jost Carlton continued.

“No shit?”

“Yes. We were the VMA-547 Reign of Fire.” He said, and lifted his sleeve to reveal a tattoo depicting fire falling from the sky, with an attack jet atop the flames.

“So now they’re what?” PFC Henson Bell asked.

“They’re still the VMA-547 Reign of Fire. They’ve just relocated.”

“To where?”

“I’m not exactly sure. I could look it up.”

“Nah. That’s the nature of the Green Monster. The Marines will shut you down after decades of service, and then reactivate you like nothing ever happened.”

“Yes, I wonder if the Smaj still remembers me. I was a real smart ass, and he always laughed at my wisecracks.”

“He probably does,” Bell said.

“I don’t know,” Carlton said, canting his head outside the hangar on the flight deck. “He could, but he probably doesn’t give a damn, either.”

“You know you could ask for a transfer to 547.” Bell replied.

Carlton shook his head. “I wouldn’t want it. It’s like a zombie squadron. If I put in paperwork to skip out of here and go back to that once dead squadron, I’d probably kill myself.”

Bell laughed. “C’mon, I bet some of your old buddies would still be there.”

“I highly doubt it. Besides I know that the cool officers, like the XO Major Holyard, Captain Cortland, and even the CO approved of all my libo destinations.”

He shrugged. “Maybe the best were Gunny Frankford and Corporals “Guts” Gutierrez and Sanchez. Those guys were cool as shit.”

“Did you ever wonder what happened to them?” Bell asked.

“I don’t know, man,” Carlton said, exasperated. “I mean I had their numbers, but I cleared out my phone and they haven’t called me so, what the hell, you know?”

“My last command was a shithole. I didn’t like the officers, my shop, nothing but going out on the town and going to booby bars. That’s where I met my wife.”

“You’re kidding…..”

“Yes, I’m serious about the command sucking, but joking about marrying a stripper.” Bell laughed at his own joke.

“You’d be surprised how many Marines pick up whores in heels, and then want to exchange nuptials. I’ve got a lady, but we’re not married.”

“Just as long as Jody doesn’t come around, you’ll be okay.”

“Nah,” Cartlon said. “I told her to be with whomever she wants. I really don’t mind if she hooks up with someone, even if it is some wicked reverse psychology. I’d just tell her to make sure she gets some money from him.”

“Tell her to do something and she’ll have an aversion to it. Amazing how that works...sometimes.” Bell said.

“What were we talking about again?” Carlton asked.

“The recommissioned squadron.” Bell replied.

Carlton continued, “Ah, yes. I wouldn’t go back, but it was really cool. I was there for only four months, and the shop ensured I have two shell casings with my name inscribed and the dates I served there. I thought that was a nice touch.”

“Yes, I’m going to be a mustang and rise all the way up to lieutenant colonel, and I’m going to have my own squadron.”

“Just a squadron? That’s it?” Carlton asked.

“That’s all I want, and I would retire before I picked up colonel,” Bell said.

“I’m doing my four years and then I’m growing a DD-214 belly, and a full beard. With two Eagle, Globe, Anchor tattoos on each side of my face. I hope that’s not too moto. Is it?” Carlton said.

“It might be a bit too moto, Jost. Same with Kyle Carpenter’s name across the chest,” Bell said.

“That’d be weird,” Carlton said.