The Fleet Marine Force

“When I first got here,” Sergeant Pella Mansley said, “I thought that I was the hotness. My CO punched me in the chest.” The words chilled Lance Corporal Chorus Lessing like frost on a tombstone.

“Yes, I thought that my expert rifle score, Iron Woman, and high marks at SOI could do it. She hit me with all the power of the Commandants in history. Knocked me down a peg. But I’m still better than you, shower shoe.” Chorus walked brusquely with Pella. A creeping sensation coursed through her frame. She was far from her Wilmington, Delaware home. The chill was that of a driving feeling. It was like cold water passing through sand in a sieve.

“Here’s your rack. Don’t get comfortable. You’ll be going out to patrol pretty soon. You wanted to be a grunt, you’ve got to earn your way in the field. And we’re not building sewers or schools or passing out packs of rice to the locals. We’re sniping and striping out there. We’re sending those bastards to hell which they so deserve.” Chorus’ eyes opened ever wider. Her belly yearned for a firefight from the words of the sergeant.

“Not to just kill the enemy, but to eliminate the ideas that emboldened the opposing forces.”

“Do you have any questions, shower shoe?”

“No, sergeant.”

“Good. You might have thought that the Fleet would be all gunplay and throwing grenades. You’re going to bore your brains out most of the time or mess with the POGs. That’s always fun. As long as I get my combat pay, I don’t mind them too much. Goddamn POGs.”

Chorus looked at the sergeant. She had coffee brown bean brown skin and perfectly styled twist and lock hair. Chorus’ light brown skin and neatly placed donut bun could be put in competition with the sergeant’s of whose hair remained the fittest.

“Alright. Chow time’s almost here. I know that we’ve got beef Stroganoff and broccoli florets. It’s better than then the rumor.”

“What rumor, Sar’ent?”

“About Marines eating crayons.”

“I might have heard that one.”

“Look it up. Actually, it was the Army who first had that whole thing attached to them. I guess inter-service rumors can die with one branch and take root with another.

Chorus slowed her gait as her eyes focused on shiny stuff. Pella and Chorus snapped to attention.

“Good evening, ma’am!” Their voices carried like ravens.

“Carry on,” General Amy Goddard said.

“I didn’t even see her,” Pella admitted.

“That’s why I have these brown eyes to spot what’s coming, Sar’ent.”

“If you see something like that in the field, you’ll be alright, shower shoe.”

The two Marines made their way to the chow hall to replenish and nourish themselves. They picked up their trays and made their way to the chow line.

“You know... you might have a place in the Fleet. I’ve been here for four months. I’ve been trying to keep my head on a swivel and still be able to get back home to my babies.”

“How many kids do you have?”

“Two.”

“I’ve got a husband. We’re working on getting some land in LSD.”

“What’s LSD?” Pella asked.

“Lower Slower Delaware.”

They both giggled. “If you asked me to point out Delaware on a map, I don’t think that I could do it.”

“You’re not the only one Sar’ent. Most of my out of state family have trouble knowing where it is. But it’s there. Right next to Pennsylvania, Maryland, and New Jersey.”

“When we go out on patrol, I’ll tell you about my six year old. He’s too ornery. I love him, though. Don’t think that I’m getting soft on you, shower shoe, because I’m not. I just wanted to let you know that I’m a mother out here.”

“I can respect that.” Chorus said.