The Blood Lesson

Steady knocks of the ping pong ball on the table tennis table nearly lulled Lance Corporals Ellis Firth and Justison Haley into a stupor. Rather than a vigorous game of back and forth, the match seemed listless, dull. But the conversation remained energetic.

“I wouldn’t say that. I mean she’s hot and all but I’ve seen hotter.”

Firth took the paddle and flipped it upside down to create some excitement in the game. A few other Marines milled about with video games and pool. Haley faced against the wall and knocked the ball over the net. He felt like a seal performing a trick for a piece of fish.

“I guess you’re right. She’s been on a lot of covers but she’s not as hot as Ronda Galilee.”

“Now, she’s hot,” Firth admitted.

Haley performed a complete three hundred and sixty degree spin and launched the ball across the table.

A news clip of a black man being shot in the back by a white policeman flashed across the flatscreen television.

“So, let’s face it. You’re only friends with me because we’re both in the Corps. My skin color is a barrier to you. In order for me to be an American, to be human, I’ve got to don drab green and desert cammies.”

“Look, it’s not like that.”

“Sure it is. Have you ever heard of Thomas Holcomb? This Delawarean became the first Marine to advance to the rank of general. It was after retirement, but still.”

“Yes, what about him?”

“This seventeenth Commandant of the Marine Corps, do you know what he said?”

“Enlighten me.”

“He said that if it were up to him, he’d pick a Corps consisting of 5,000 white Marines over 250,000 black Marines.”

“So?”

“So?! The man, like most men of history was a mixed bag. Under his leadership, he recognized women as Leathernecks and expanded the Corps to include over a quarter million Devil Dogs. But he just got hung up on color. Like you. If I was just a black man on the block in Wilmington, Delaware, you wouldn’t even think of me as a person. You’d see me as a statistic. Once I put on my cover with the Eagle, Globe and Anchor, you see me as a member of Gang Green.”

Firth took a breath. He was like a beached whale on the subject. Helpless. He waited for the right moment to be pushed back into the water.

“I didn’t know that about Commandant Holcomb. But I’m no racist.”

"Aww, here we go. You mean to tell me that if I didn’t go through Boot Camp and qualify as an expert and fulfill all of the requirements that go into being a Marine, that you would still look at me the same?”

Firth returned to the water. “Of course. I think that all people deserve respect no matter what their skin color, eye color, or hair texture happens to be.”

Haley slammed the paddle down on the table with the ball under it.

“What about Montford Point?”

Firth looked about quizzically. “Montford what?”

“Blacks couldn’t even train at Paradise Island. The government forced them to be separate from their white counterparts and for what?”

“What?”

“I mean why?”

“Why, what?”

“Why were some government personnel separated from other personnel? Was there any earthly reason for it? Has there ever been a direct, honest, and complete reason for why blacks and whites could die together but couldn’t even eat and sleep in the same quarters?”

“That’s all history, though,” Firth fired back.

“By knowing your history, you get the blood lesson of where you stand in this world.”

“But there’s nothing like that, now. Look at you. You’re about to pick up corporal in a few weeks. I’m working on that, too. We’re brothers in the same fight.”

“Yes, but don’t you see how far we’ve come? The society is what determines what goes on in the Corps. At one point gays and lesbians couldn’t enlist or become candidates openly. Now, the entire military permits these folks amongst the ranks. What was the reason that they couldn’t join? In the fight, would they lose their nerve and their cool? No. Sexual orientation doesn’t determine whether a Marine will perform when it comes to the bitter teeth of the fight.”

“You’ve got to believe me. I see you as a human being. You’re black, and that’s neither a benefit nor a detriment. And the fact that you’re a Marine only means that you decided to be a part of the best fighting force in the world.”

“Yes... but….”

“But what?”

“The color of my skin still plays a part in you subconsciously regarding me as a ‘brother in arms.’”

“Yes, a brother, alright.”

“I’m serious. Because of your white skin, I disagree with the prevailing idea that you’re privileged. I do hold, though, that your view of me is skewed because of my hue.”

“I don’t give a goddamn about whether you’re a black man or not.”

“Well, I do.”

“Are you serious?” Firth dropped the paddle.

“As colon cancer.”

“Well, you should forget about your skin color because the Corps goes by merit, not race.”

“I only care about my facial features because of history. In the future, we will be so concerned with the rise of robotics that humanity will have to cling to each other as traders rather than two distant strangers.”

“May we speed up to see that day,” Firth said.

“Yes, faster than this ball going over the net.”

The white orb slid across the table and Haley scored the winning point.