I Would Have Kicked The Trap Myself
2 days before my birthday, 1981.
PCP and handguns don't mix.
Dead at 24.
Murder most foul.
Yeah, right. What friends?
That's right...20 years.
Philip was the guy assigned to teach me the silent drill when I was dragooned unto the team. He did a good job, a few weeks later one of the guys left and I took his place and was on the Marching 24. He had a lot of mental issues, none of which I am qualified to talk about, but he was a thief and he stole my room key and bragged about it. Losing a room key was one of the ways the Corps got back at privates for losing the Vietnam War, you had to go through all kinds of bullshit to get another. Mine disappeared from on top of my clothing as I was taking a shower. As soon as I found out about this, I broke open his wall locker and it was loaded with cameras and other swag he had stolen from his fellow Marines. With the help of my other roommate, when Philip walked in my buddy slammed and locked the door while I attacked Phil with all that I had. He was much larger than me but I was in the best shape of my life and was furious. When the other members of the team got in and got me off of him I had knocked him between his bed (rack) and the wall and was punching as hard as a welterweight Golden Glover could. That night my platoon commander, First Lt. Steven R. Kappes, had me standing tall in front of him and told me that what I had done was worse than anything Reinhard Heydrich had ever done. Considering the time and place and that Mr. Kappes went on to be Deputy Director Operations of the CIA for 7 years under Bush and Obama that was the greatest compliment I ever got. ( I mean, c'mon, Reinhard Heydrich? Officer material)!
Meine Ehre heißt Treue, er,,,,uh,...Semper Fidelis!
Philip should have been executed, and the Corps should have cut him loose long before this happened.
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