Now, this may not be exactly what you had in mind when you started reading about this, well actually you wouldn’t know to even make an assumption because there isn’t a title, but never mind that, this is simply about killing people, taking orders, brothers in arms, perhaps even brothers for life.
It wouldn’t be the scene you would have had in mind when hearing about fleet week on the rise and marines and navy men running wild in New York City, but I assure you it was a mad scene, but not at this bar, not at all.
I sat there enjoying an argument with a very attractive woman that believes that she, at least to herself is the center of the universe. It was then, at that specific moment that I realized that if these brutes would have over heard this woman that at any moment they may have shot her dead at that moment, so it seemed like I had no choice but to cordially invite them into the conversation, to kind of well you know...act preemptively.
Immediately I threw her in with the wolves.
“Look at her, she is nuts…she thinks she's the center of her universe”
I pointed at them, looked at her and said:
“If these guys thought like you, the guy to his right would be shot dead”
Whatever it was that she said or they said was irrelevant at this point, it is where the conversation led that was the most quintessential part of this massacre.
I looked at the 8 of the brutes as they drank their hard earned beers and started warning them that I wanted to ask them a few questions, they laughed and said that they liked me and that it was ok and to go ahead. I order a round of drinks and started, but I was interrupted and asked if I was a journalist, I laid it down right then and there that I absolutely was not, which is the truth...after all, I am a citizen and these are my guardians…I should be able to ask a question here or there eh?
“So do you fellas get influenced by the politicians over here while you’re over there getting shot at?”
Now, this Marine was not loaded at that point, but later I remember him involved with some woman, which I noticed was actually the friend I came in with, clearly he wasn’t aware that she was a maniac…as was I actually, but that’s aside from the point...wait what is that point? Oh wait, right.
“ nah we don’t give a shit if these politicians tell us to go where ever the fuck they tell us to go to, all I know is once we are there, we are doing a job. My job could be to mount the gun, then that’s what ill do”
“Well what if they say shoot the "bad guys?"”
“I’ll shoot those bastards then”
It was then, that another brute said something in a drunken stupor, I didn’t take him too seriously but then a few more started hooting and hollering about it…
“Yeah fuck them! Where else can you kill people and be paid to do it, fuck them!”
This was not something I didn’t expect to hear, but this is happening…they are actually getting off on killing people. But then again, can I blame them? Modern Warfare 2 is out now and 3 is in the works -shit I’m going to buy a copy when it comes out- it has a certain romance to it though, after all the expression “it’s a dirty job but someone has to do it” came from somewhere, why not from the Marines or the Navy, perhaps even the Army boys, shit we should just start with the boy scouts at this point. These Animals are bred somewhere, and I know it isn’t in New York City.
Discussing politics at a bar can be very hazardous to your health, I see now why someone much wiser than I came up with “no religion or politics at the bar”. I wasn’t beaten or anything, even though I knew that for whatever reason they could have choked me out in a matter of seconds, yet I was compelled to press on with my questions.
“Is this PTSD talk all just a bunch of garbage or are you really seeing this beast being a problem for you guys?
This tall Texan stood out of the chair and got serious about what I asked, I thought I was done for but he actually bought me a drink and started talking…
“Let me tell you something friend, nothing is like killing some 8 year old kid, it will always fuck you up. Yeah yeah yeah, I know that he had an AK47 pointed at me but he had a chance for a life, maybe he could have cured cancer…I don’t know. It fucks you up!”
I looked concerned...did this guy kill an 8 year old? Shit, that must be some weird drug-like trip, not one that I would ever want to be on.
“Fuck”, I didn’t know what else to say…I thought he might start to get all wired on this topic so I turned and said...
“I personally like to think that when one is enlisting themself, it is because they want to serve their country and not because they are looking avoid jail. At least that way they have managed their expectations of what they will go through when shot at. In retrospect I am sure it is better to be in jail serving a 5 stretch as opposed to getting shot, killed or end up as a car salesman with PTSD, would you agree?”
“Shit, most of us know someone who is enlisted just so he could avoid hard time. I would have done the same thing, but either way, no, it doesn’t matter…once you take that first shot…it’s a whole new thing”
Somehow, and I knew it would happen, we got into a discussion about what their options were for when after they came back from duty, and most of them were as clueless as the rest of us. But they all knew one thing; even if they didn’t fire a shot, an employer can turn them down for PTSD, just because it is well know that a lot of soldiers suffer from it. It was no longer a generation of vacuum salesmen, but perhaps a generation of car salesman, and some damn tough ones I must say. I would buy an American car from a guy with dog tags, shit how I could I say no? The guilt alone would eat me alive…but then again I am shallow, but these others beasts roaming the streets are weak.
The rest of this got a bit fuzzy. I was, after all, drinking…heavily I must add. Shit, I hope I remember this stuff correctly or is this all just some drunk’s recollection of another boring experience at some bar on the west side?
From the bar stool of The Mean Fiddler on the west side of Manhattan - 5/26/2010
