Why Be a Leader? Become a DI Instead

One of the best SNCOs I knew said, ‘the drill field is the one billet where you can be successful without displaying any real leadership qualities.’

Like all of us, I have quite a few boot camp stories, and don’t hate the ever-loving shit out of the DIs I had. For instance, if one was on fire, I’d cross the street to piss on him. But that’s just common courtesy.

Having said that, let’s get to a couple of examples of the finest leadership in the world.

SSgt BlueFalcon

SSgt BlueFalcon was our 4th DI. Being new, he was a bit clueless. He talked with a voice like a buzzer so everything he said sounded fucked up without having to yell, and he may have actually been a GySgt the month before we got him in phase 2 of our training.

I’m not kidding. This motherfucker showed up in phase 2 with all his gear marked in Gunny chevrons. Now, it’s totally possible that he just got a helluva deal off a retiree, or maybe found stuff in his size at a second-hand shop, but there were signs that something shady was going on, and that my SDI was babysitting the shit out of him. Honestly, for me to notice, it had to be painfully obvious.

So there we were one day with Gunny – I mean SSgt – Blue Falcon in charge of us. I hadn’t eaten lunch and there was a tray from the chow hall for me. I kept requesting permission to eat, and BlueFalcon kept saying no. So I kept asking, because (A) I wanted to eat, (B) fuck him, and (C) I wanted to eat. It got to the point that other recruits were telling me to stop. Apparently, my wanting lunch was getting annoying for the fed.

Eventually, we were forming up to get a class at the movie theater, and I still hadn’t eaten lunch, nor would I since dinner was right around the corner. While there I went to my SDI, who had his own to go tray from the chow hall, and asked him for permission to eat lunch as SSgt BlueFalcon stood behind me, glaring indifferently over my shoulder.

“You haven’t eaten?” he asked.

“No, sir.”

With an incredulous look at BlueFalcon, who honestly could not have given less of a crap, my SDI handed me his own food, which I took because (A) fuck him, (B) I wanted to eat, and (C) fuck him.

I took it outside, where another great act of leadership occurred.

SSgt Charming

Since dignity can be foregone for hunger I sat on the cement facing a brick wall to enjoy my lunch with a swarm of delicious sand fleas, but who should be out there but a male/female DI duo, talking about some such shit. I can’t recall the conversation, so I’ll fill in the blanks the best I can:

“Yeah,” he said, “so I started eating my Chef Boyardee raviolis with a K-Bar.”

“Hmm,” she said, listening intently, her blonde hair pulled.

“It’s a real time-saver, because now I don’t have to tactically acquire my weekly supply of plastic ware from mini PX like I used to.”

“I converted old tea bags into Maxi Pads,” she chimed in, not wanting to seem less thrifty than him, “and vice versa.”

“Hey you! Continue reading “Why Be a Leader? Become a DI Instead”

How Karate Stopped Me from Joining the USMC

I’m not a Marine, I never have been. Hell, I’ve never even served. That being said, for about a year or two in a previous life, I had ambitions of joining the Marine Corps and was really gung-ho about becoming the part of the Few and the Proud. Well…let’s just say things changed when I started doing some research on the organization. “The Few and The Proud” started to become “The Few Misguided Youth and Old Bastards Who Can’t Make it in the Real World and Hence Make the Lives of The Few Misguided Youth Hell for no Reason.” I have to say, when I first came across the iHateTheUSMC website, I did not take the stories seriously. I thought “hey, these are probably a bunch of fuckups who couldn’t suck it up and get the job done”. Well, one story could be that case. 10? Maybe. 100? Uh…. A fuck-ton of stories?!!!… something’s up here…..

Shit really hit me like a brick when I began experiencing the stories I read on this site at the Dojo I practiced at. I felt like a misguided youth who had joined a very cool sounding organization to accomplish great things, but instead realized all he had accomplished was wasting a fuck-ton of time. Below I have listed a list of scenarios. Now, read them and try to guess whether they are my experiences from Karate or experiences listed by Marines on this website. (hint hint…the list is not mutually exclusive)

1 – Junior ranking members having to listen to bullshit about spirit and culture that senior ranking members pull out of their assholes

2 – Hearing terms like “warrior” or “warrior spirit” from clown-like senior members who couldn’t beat a squirrel in a fist fight

3 – Having to take shit from a senior ranking member (who by the way is like 6 inches or a feet shorter than you are) and having to fight the urge to strangle them till they stop fucking twitching

4 – Realizing the outdated fighting methods you practice only belong in the outdated centuries they were created in

5 – Having to do some bullshit salutation for a certain group of high ranking members (who may also be a feet shorter than you and not be able to beat a squirrel in a fist fight) or facing the consequences

6 – Having to take shit from experienced “warrior” who can even throw a fucking jab. Seriously, a simple fucking jab

7 – You and your friends constantly doing impressions of you clown ass superiors and the stupid meaningless shit they say behind their backs

8 – Being chewed out for not understanding a command that would not make sense in a fucking mental ward

9 – Reflecting on the terrible decisions you have made and wishing you had joined a more effective organization

10 – Leaving before you make rank because hell… you would rather cut your balls off with a dull plastic knife than to become one of your clown fucking superiors one day

11 – Seeing idiots who can’t fight for shit being promoted before you because they are really good at sucking dick and kissing ass and also memorizing and reciting bullshit that your seniors think is important

12 – Being extremely qualified, but not being promoted because of a technicality that no one can even fucking define (Seriously…dear high ranking member…what the fuck are you talking about? You can’t even throw a jab)

13 – Idiots becoming favorites of your superiors because they look good in their perfect little (with extra emphasis on little) uniforms

14 – Being micromanaged by the superiors mentioned above, even though everyone knows they don’t know what the fuck they’re doing

15 – Oh my god, I can’t believe I almost forgot about this! Ridiculous fucking haircuts worn by certain gung-ho superiors

16 – One word: Motards

I could go on and on and on and on but I’ll stop here. Anyways, thank you karate and iHateTheUSMC for preventing me from making another god awful life decision. I have made so many before.

Submitted by: Sensei Tater Salad

How to Prepare for the Marines

Filthy Little Hobbitses

Do you want to simulate your enlistment? Here’s what you have to do:

Go find yourself an incredibly insane hobo, the crazier the better. Pay this hobo with a bottle or two of some hard liquor, and have him chug both bottles before you begin. Now, have him scream unintelligible nonsense at the top of his lungs a few inches from your face, while you stand perfectly still. While standing still, scream “aye” at the top of your lungs, again and again and again and again, really, you can’t scream that word enough.

After this has gone on for a few hours, jump into the dumpster that hobo was living in and start scrubbing it “clean” with a toothbrush. Remember, that hobo should still be shouting in your face as you’re doing this, and you should still be screaming “aye” as quickly and as loudly as you can. Don’t be alarmed if that hobo starts screaming about how fat, lazy, stupid, or weak you are. We all know that he’s a tired old alcoholic with no future prospects and a past he
regrets, that just makes it that much more like the Marine Corps.

This should go on for a few days.

After the hobo kicks you out of his dumpster, calling you a bitch faggot as he does so, you should both take a breather by eating whatever food you can scrounge out of the discarded cans in the dumpster. Be sure to be very appreciative towards the hobo for giving you this time to eat. He’s such a nice guy after all, he only wants what’s best for you. Why do you make him yell at you like he does? You’re such a lowdown scumbag.

Once you’ve had a few minutes to eat what you could, it’s time to train. Goody! That stuff that you saw in MW3 will soon be happening to you! I’ll bet you can’t wait to win the medal of honor and make your parents proud. So, go grab yourself about one hundred pounds worth of trash bags, and sling them over your back. Then, run about ten steps down the alley, dive to the ground and slam your knees as hard as you can into the pavement. Get into the prone, and then get back up and do it again. Do this for a few hours, while the hobo follows you with a trash bag full of pillows on this back and he calls you a weak bitch for being slower than him. He’s such a hard ass that hobo.

After this has all been done, dump out all the trash out of your trash bags, and start organizing that shit! Everything must be in its proper place. The banana peels must not touch the pizza boxes, the diapers must be neatly folded into five by five inch squares, and the toothbrush that you used to scrub out that dumpster had better not be used! After you’ve spent a few hours making it perfect, have the hobo come over and tell you to move everything over to the next alley. He should also be yelling at you to hurry up as you do this.

Eventually, everything is ready, and your hobo can now inspect your trash. Stand rigidly in pride by your neatly arranged trash, it’s a reflection of you after all! The hobo should then glance at the pile of trash, and demand to know why you’re so dirty. Respectfully tell him that respectfully, you were respectfully running around an alley with a respectful amount of trash on your respectful back. The hobo should then point out that HE was running with you, and He’s not so dirty. Then respectfully point out that the mr. gracious hobo sir had not gone directly from that to organizing a pile of trash. This will set off the hobo like you just slapped his sister in the face with your dick and didn’t call her back.

The hobo will then yell something about “enjay pees” and “sixtyone oh fives” for a little bit, and you should feel ashamed for how blatantly disrespectful your comment had been.

Hell, if you want hardship that badly, just keep doing this for about four years. Remember, you can’t defend yourself from that hobo, nor can you quit till those years are up, or you’ll have committed a felony. Don’t worry though, you can tell all your friends that you’re living the hard life, what do they know about hardship? And the hobo will let you wear his old denim suit when you go visit your family once a year or so, you’ll turn all the she-bums heads as you strut through the ghetto. Stick with it for twenty years or so and you too can be just like that hobo, and you too can treat some kid like shit for booze.

Submitted by: “freeatlastfreeatlast”

A Short-Timer’s Cadence

This was a cadence that I wrote back in 2011 when I was leaving Okinawa. We had two short-timers in my squad, and we were a tad bit upset at still having to PT (Face it, no one likes to PT, the only reason people do it is because they have to), and we had a new squad leader who had… lets call them “unorthodox” ways of conducting PT. So during the middle of a 4 mile, “boots and utes”, cadence, indian run, (Yes we seriously did that) I got out and started shouting this little number. Enjoy.

747 rollin’ down the strip
EAS [Or “PCS” works too] marines gonna take a little trip
Roommates gonna field day alone
But I don’t care ’cause i’m going home

Wake up, stand up shuffle to the door
McDonalds for lunch and home by 4
A-laughing and a-joking
A-drinking and a-smoking

Civilians! Hell Ya!
Marine Corps! Fuck Off!


Safety and Peace


“Marine Corps Early Retirement Programs”

Just for the luls.

Safety and Peace

Happy Birthday, America

We hope you have a safe (not too safe ) holiday and have tons of fun!

Happy Birthday America

Hey look! It’s our ol pal Osama!

This guy was a Marine.

We went out to see fireworks and she had one job. ONE…

This guy was a Marine too.

And so was this guy.

This guy was definitely a Marine…

And let’s not forget these guys. If it were not for them, we would have been destroyed by Aliens 16 years ago. TRUE American heroes… Salute.

I will end with this. This has got to be the most amazing patriotic recording in American history. Barely a century out of slavery, not even a decade removed from Jim Crow, a black man wails away on the national anthem, not with a horn or his voice, but with an electric motherfucking guitar, an American invention, in front of thousands of people gathered together as an act of protest against the established order. This is the sound of freedom ringing.

Source: reddit.com

USMC Animation 1 – 4

I got an email a while back from the creator of these short animations asking me to put his videos up on my site. I told him I would do it right away and… Well I totally forgot! So without further delay, here is USMC animation 1 – 4.

Your Corps VS. My Core

[This was submitted to me by my dear friend Hazel the Newt.  I hope you enjoy!]


My dearest readers, oh, beloved readers of mine… OOH, my dear bretheran.  Let me approach you for a moment in solemn sincerity, not as a writer, nor a blogger.  Nay, I am appealing to you today not as a brother or equal, or even a
fellow human being… but as something more ominous and narcisistic.  Consider me the echo of a voice from beyond the grave, as it were, a wailing and gnashing of teeth; today I am your Ghost of Christmas Future, and you are my Scrooge… for today, oh my little children, I speak to you not as a man, but as a U.S. Marine.

YES!  I know how it sounds.  I can imagine your horrified gasps of horror, confusion, shock, horror, and even disgust.  But this revelation must come my beloved worshipers.  Some of you are youngsters or, even fairly oldsters, lacking direction and ambition in life.  Maybe your father is pressuring you to “do something with your life” whatever that means, and he wants you to follow in his footsteps by selling yourself into indentured servitude to the U.S. Department of Defense for the next 20-40 years of your life.
Maybe your friends all moved on in life, or joined the military.  They have left home to serve, fight, and die for this great nation… in boot camp.  You are bored and lonely hanging out in your parent’s basement.  You realize you were a follower of the crowd with no real self-awareness or individual identity… and you want for that to continue.  You long for that same pride of belonging that you can only earn by letting other people make your decisions and determine your personality for you.  Or maybe your friends all got good jobs in the Army and Air force, and you want to show them up one and be seen as the tough guy, so you will join the Marine Corps.  You will allow your body to be abused and destroyed and aged before it’s time.  You will apply for the 6th crappiest job on earth, get screwed, and end up with one of two jobs so crappy they didn’t make the list.  Your idea of “professional behavior” will be yelling random sounds and such things as “kill babies” at you boss when he talks to you; running in your underwear with other men in matching underwear, in the dead of night while loudly chanting strange obscenities.

Mayhaps, oh my dear little brothers and sisters, you have a girlfriend.  Whether you have dated for 4 months or 4 years, her new name will be Suzie Rottencrotch, and you will tremble in excitement as you tell her you will be enlisting.  She will be so excited for you.  She loves a man in uniform, she says.  If only you knew just how much.  However she will express certain concerns.  But you will tell each other you are in love and it will be ok.  Then you will go to boot camp and write her every day.  You will recieve two letters from her, then not again for several weeks.  Then you will get a letter from her.  Your name will be spelled wrong, and she will melodramatically confess to you that she was soooo worried about you that she had to talk to your recruiter about what was going on, and he was there to comfort her.  Long story short, for the past few weeks, instead of writing you, she has been banging your recruiter.  And the other marines that work in the recruiting office.  At the same time.  And the Army staff sergeant next door when they were out.  Now she is so overcome with guilt that she must say goodbye.
“Thank you for your continued interest.
Yours faithfully, Suzie R.”
It’s ok.  It could be worse.  Sometimes Suzie never even tells you she did anything like that while you were gone.

Fear not, young padewog.  Eventually you will marry.  She will be the most beautiful bride imagineable, hourglass figure, lips like flowerpetals… 2 years later, this amazing woman will have 3 kids, with another on the way (a feat in itself considering that none of the children are twins… they won’t even be all the same color!  What an amazing woman you will have married), and she will weigh in at a whopping 480 lbs, unable to leave the bedroom without the assistance of a crane.  This and her supernatural abilities to suck your bank accounts dry no matter what will help her live up perfectly to her new title of “military dependant.”

Just imagine all the things you will do that you never thought you would.  Like become an alcoholic.  Get chased by ladyboys in a third world country, or learn that prostitutes in the philippines cost less than $50 (usd) and decide to get three consecutively or at once.  Maybe you will kill a family’s livestock or pet goat in Afghanistan, or learn where the U.S. Governments true priorities lie, or loose your sight or legs.  There are SOOO many possibilities in the Marine Corps.  It will take all your time to explore them.  Like all night “field days,” exploring all the places trace amounts of dust can hide in your room.  Maybe you can work your way up to Staff Non Commissioned Officer, at which point you will have the esteemed role of being on call at all times to do the bidding of simple-minded officers; working late, answering endless requests and filling out endless paperwork, and taking responsibiloty for every mistake or hiccup that anyone below you has made ever in history.   Essentially by the time you have risen to the proud rank of Staff Sergeant, you have attained the covetted billet of “office para-bitch”  or “assistant to the main office-bitch in charge of paperclips.”

People will ask you if you will re-enlist, and you will say you don’t know yet.  You will be thinking about how much you hate your life.  They will chuckle and wide-eyed, they will say, “If you’re going to do four years, you might as well re-enlist, just to see if you really like it or not.   And if you do 8 years, you might as well do twenty, and why stop there.  Just another twenty years and you have full retirement benefits.”   You will nod and squint thoughtfully, thinking about what to eat for lunch and how to avoid your sergeant for the rest of the morning.  The words that person spoke will seem logical to you, even though the real question is:  why stay in longer than you must?!

To summarize, dear esteemed reader… there comes a time in a man’s life when he must look to some group or organization to give him a solid hand of guidance.  If that time comes for you, and it must be four letters, before you consider USMC, you should consider YMCA.


Read more from Hazel the Newt (or just stare at some pictures of hot Asian Chicks) at http://hazelnewt.blogspot.com/

The EAS Song

No doubt many of you have seen this clip, which I believe is recognized as a fitting homage for many thousands of discharged Marines. I’ve been out for about 5 years now, but when this character sings, “. . . and last of all we got one more left it’s the most important one, it’s the EAS . . .” I think of the relief I felt while driving out the front gate with my DD-214. It was almost euphoric. The lyrics are so simple, the song a concise encapsulation of his time in the Corps. There is bullshit everywhere and acronyms for everything. And hiding beneath the veneer of this highly lofted institution are the symptoms of confusion and mediocrity: on-duty Marines sleeping, favoritism, politics, avoiding responsibility, etc. Keep in mind, this young man is not singing about your local mechanic in coveralls finishing a beer when he should be repairing your car- he’s talking about the United States Marine Corps. As always, I am excluding those combat-tested Marines and the ones who have paid the ultimate price. The rest of you (including me) deserve no special recognition for just doing our jobs.

Motivators love to say, “Well there’s always a share of both love and hate for the Corps.” Just what part of, “Fuck USMC you can suck my cock” in that song conveys love for the Marine Corps? I personally reserve those sentiments for organizations (and the people in them) for which I harbor no affection. You can even tell your girlfriend, “Fuck you” in an argument, as well as “You can suck my cock” in a different setting when both of you are feeling decadent. But you cannot tell your girlfriend, “Fuck you, you can suck my cock.” She just won’t do it. It’s your way of saying, “I think we’re done” in the most undiplomatic way. But I don’t hate the Marine Corps. I won’t waste my time and energy hating it. My relationship with the USMC is a lot like the estrangement you have for that ex-lover who just isn’t right in the head. You pity and sometimes humor her, you know she (or he, for you ladies) is insane, and you can’t help her. And no matter how many times you explain that her negative traits far outweigh her good ones, she’s still going to believe that she made your life richer and more worthwhile. That’s the fallacy many motivators believe, that somewhere in one of the chambers of our hearts we still love and miss the Corps. So you just have to laugh, shake your head, and stay away. Hate is not healthy. I personally prefer expressing my awe and amazement toward these delusions of grandeur, followed by amusement.

When you compare the happiness level of your graduation from boot camp to your EAS, you will find that the former is grounded upon a belief system that had no or little substance in the first place. And little by little, you learn that the EGAs woven into your uniforms and pinned to your collars take on a different meaning than when you first coveted them. In the beginning, they were symbolic of being the ultimate badass and the consummate professional. But over time, the environment and the resources at your disposal began to reflect the inadequacy of the training protocol and superficial aesthetic of the Corps. Shall I quote Tyler Durden? “Sticking feathers up your butt does not make you a chicken.” Likewise strutting, yelling and marching in formation does not make you formidable, tougher, or organized. It only makes you more obedient and susceptible to further indoctrination.  Ultimately, your graduation from basic training pales in comparison to your EAS celebration. This is the case 9 times out of 10.

Perhaps a Marine and/or poolee (those naive, sorry bastards) will argue that if the USMC mentality failed to take hold, we just “didn’t do it right.” Something went awry. We weren’t Marine material. But being Marine material isn’t prestigious at all. The necessary components for being one are really reduced to two main factors: 1. a healthy body (which isn’t at all reflective of your character), and 2. the willingness to obey (like a child). Anything beyond that is derived from the individual. So this whole misconception that Marines somehow acquire admirable abilities and traits that are otherwise inherent is one of the biggest crocks perpetuating the Marine Corps myth.

If you’re one of those people who knows that had it not been for the Corps, you would’ve been incarcerated, committing felonies and/or just been an overall ineffectual human being, you’re among that alarmingly growing percentage who truly needs such draconian levels of discipline just to function. The Corps has attempted unsuccessfully to correlate the word “discipline” with the words “practical, useful, and efficient.” In other words, a Marine’s ability to do the right thing, to just be DECENT, requires drug tests, structured exercise sessions, and accountability formations to keep him that way. The definition for excellence in the Marine Corps is synonymous with maintaining the status quo in the private sector. Talk about lowering the bar. Those civilians and [few] Marines that have reached or transcended the standards of excellence do so individually, simply because USMC policy is designed as a blueprint for ordinariness. So without equivocation, there are far more excellent people in the civilian world than there ever were in the Corps. Hands down. No question about it. Aside from them being able to run for long periods of time, Marines work very hard in order to become very average.

– PerfectScapegoat


Eat the Apple, Fuck the Corps Song

NINJA_PUNCH dug this up and posted it in the forum and after watching it, I decided that everyone else should too.

The video shows an NCO playing a not so motivating song to (quite successfully) motivate his troops to get passed a bullshit field day.

Here it is.


You know you’re a brainwashed fuck when…

You know you’re a brainwashed fuck when…

* …you think your chain of command gives a shit about you.

* …you honestly think hard work is going to get you anywhere.

* … you get nothing but high and tights

* … you take shitty work with pleasure

* … you think field days do win wars.

* … you willingly accept bullshit

* … you believe that your Sergeant is better physically and mentally than you. (I had a SSGT who couldn’t get a third class PFT and he passed it off as something that doesn’t matter.)

* … you believe anything the higher ups say.

* … you say “OORAH” and “Semper Fi” as much as you say the word “the.”

* … you wear your Service Charlies or dress blues out on leave.

* … you wear your service charlies or dress blues out on leave and you’ve been in the Marine Corps for more than 3 years.

– K



You know you’re a brainwashed fuck when:
a) You honestly and legitemately believe you’re right for no other reason except your rank.
b) You honestly believe everyone below your rank(or in another branch) is an idiot
c) You can’t stand the thought of a website like this that doesn’t exalt your ” beloved corps” (keep your fucking corps BTW)
d) You honestly and legitimately see nothing wrong with getting another person and yelling at them for dumb shit like where they’re hands are at, not getting their hair cut, not getting their hair cut high enough, having they’re hair a little too long, the bun on a girls head, the way someones fucking shoestrings are laced…SHOESTRINGS!!!!…
e) You take immense pleasure in reciting regs like it was the fucking holy word of god
f) You charge at someone with knifehands saying “HEY DEVILDOG!” and end your stupid little ass-chewing with some dumb moto garbage like “you think Chesty Puller would have done that”… like you actually fucking met the man…
g) It just absolutely shocks you that anyone might not want to do this for another 4 years
h) Whenever someone says they don’t want to re-enlist you say ‘OH! what a piece of shit”, You honestly and truly believe that you have the right to judge another human to be a “piece of shit”, because YOUR opinion really matters, right you brainwashed inbred fuck?!?
i) You say garbage like “The corps is getting soft”.. is that so.. then get the fuck out you fucking coward…thats right..you wont, you’re fucking nothing.. a nobody outside this insitution.. Please disgruntled ones.. add on.. how are your fucking “higher ups” proving to you how brainwashed they are on a daily basis..

– F M L

1st Sgt of Marines Leads Marines by Sleeping on Combat Patrol

first sergeant bernard jackson, sergeant major bernard jackson

1st Sgt of Marines, Bernard Jackson Leading his marines by sleeping on a combat patrol. Bravo Battery 1/11 – Iraq – 2007

In March 2006, Sergeant Major Jackson reported to 1st Battalion, 11th Marine Regiment, where he was assigned as the Bravo Battery First Sergeant. While assigned to Bravo Battery, Sergeant Major Jackson served in combat operations with 3d Battalion, 1st Marines, 13th Marine Expeditionary Unit (Special Operations Capable) in Operation Iraqi Freedom 6-8.



Marine Doesnt Take Shit From SNCO

The way this guy getting yelled at conducts himself is pretty funny.

I have highlighted some of my favorite comments from this video from youtube. You can tell who are the retard motivators, and who are the guys who are down to earth.

That Marine getting his ass chewed shouldh’ve locked his body and took the original ass chewing. Thats the way of the Corps for those of you who don’t understand it is an autocratic leadership style. I loved seeing ass chewing like this and had plenty happen to me for no reason as well. Get Some! I love this shit!

and then NJP his ass. Fuck em and feed em beans!


hes in legal plt. these are basically the turds of the Marine Corp. The ones that popped on a drug test ect. so they are about to be discharged anyway. Any real Marine knows even when your right youre still wrong. So stand and at parade rest shut your mouth and listen to whatever your superior is saying. This kid clearly has no respect for the Marine Corp.

Yeah, yeah. Everyone’s a tough guy once they put on the kill suit. You have an over the top black NCO (presumably) and some fat-ass other wing man basically doing nothing but yelling at a Marine for what? It could have been a penis length contest, who knows.

And they wonder why there are high numbers of suicides in the Army and Marines…it’s because they discipline by cussing and yelling instead of simply addressing the issue professionally

hes lucky he didnt get his ass beat dont raise ur arms to ur CO just shut up and take it.

oh yes she S*** bags. this is prolly the funniest ass chewing i’ve seen. in my old command there was a sgt. and im not gonna say who, forceful pins people against the walls. sometimes hits them….then agiain he’s kinda bi-polar. and retired now

I dont know who these Marines are but for all those wondering what happened, my guess, and any soldier can probably back me up, the junior Marines probably did something that got an NCO’s ass Chewed. And we all no shit rolls down hill.

i find it interesting that the guy is getting chewed out so, the black guy is a higher rank right? after all hes doing the chewing. so why isnt the other guy at parade rest or position of attention?

I was a Corpsman, I was a Navy boy and I didn’t take this kind of abuse, if it came down to screaming “shut the fuck up” in my face, then it was either time to walk away or throw down. Angry Marines spent a lot of time screaming at my back. Nothing makes a Marine more angry then letting him know his swagger in uniform aint shit to me.

yeah, there’s a simpler term to that. its called “Building Character”.

And that’s the very definition of brainwashing

What a lot of you don’t understand is that this is all necessary. How can you expect someone to go into war if they can’t handle extreme situations. They WILL push you to your limit in every way because if one day they are put in the situation with an enemy they will handle it better. If they don’t teach him to shut up now, then what would happen if he gets captured while deployed? He’ll lose any chance of survival if he acts like that….

Some turds just don’t understand, if you bite your tongue and only say yes, no or aye aye, there is no ass chewing… And if there is a need for an ass chewing, best way to keep it short is using the simple answers… Yes, No and Aye aye… The ones talking back are just asking to get jumped by other nco’s, and god knows how long it’ll last if a snco gets involved…


The 13 Days of Marine Corps Christmas

With the holidays coming up, we wanted to get into the holiday spirit. So we decided to post up a very Christmasy post. Enjoy!

The 13 Days of Marine Corps Christmas (Sang to the tune of “The 12 Days of Christmas”)

On the First Day of Christmas the Marine Corps Gave to me: A Chance To Witness an NJP!

On the Second Day of Christmas the Marine Corps Gave to me: 2 Bitchy Roommates, and A Chance To Witness an NJP!

On the Third Day of Christmas the Marine Corps Gave to me: 3 Drill Instructors, 2 Bitchy Roommates, and A Chance To Witness an NJP!

On the Fourth Day of Christmas the Marine Corps Gave to me: 4 Page 11s, 3 Drill Instructors, 2 Bitchy Roommates, and A Chance To Witness an NJP!

On the Fifth Day of Christmas the Marine Corps Gave to me: 5 6105s, 4 Page 11s, 3 Drill Instructors, 2 Bitchy Roommates, and A Chance To Witness an NJP!

On the Sixth Day of Christmas the Marine Corps Gave to me: 6 Counseling Sheets, 5 6105s, 4 Page 11s, 3 Drill Instructors, 2 Bitchy Roommates, and A Chance To Witness an NJP!

On the Seventh Day of Christmas the Marine Corps Gave to me: 7 MCIs, 6 Counseling Sheets, 5 6105s, 4 Page 11s, 3 Drill Instructors, 2 Bitchy Roommates, and A Chance To Witness an NJP!

On the Eighth Day of Christmas the Marine Corps Gave to me: 8 Uniform Inspections, 7 MCIs, 6 Counseling Sheets, 5 6105s, 4 Page 11s, 3 Drill Instructors, 2 Bitchy Roommates, and A Chance To Witness an NJP!

On the Ninth Day of Christmas the Marine Corps Gave to me: 9 Safety Briefs, 8 Uniform Inspections, 7 MCIs, 6 Counseling Sheets, 5 6105s, 4 Page 11s, 3 Drill Instructors, 2 Bitchy Roommates, and A Chance To Witness an NJP!

On the Tenth Day of Christmas the Marine Corps Gave to me: 10 Field Day Formations, 9 Safety Briefs, 8 Uniform Inspections, 7 MCIs, 6 Counseling Sheets, 5 6105s, 4 Page 11s, 3 Drill Instructors, 2 Bitchy Roommates, and A Chance To Witness an NJP!

On the Eleventh Day of Christmas the Marine Corps Gave to me: 11 days UA, 10 Field Day Formations, 9 Safety Briefs, 8 Uniform Inspections, 7 MCIs, 6 Counseling Sheets, 5 6105s, 4 Page 11s, 3 Drill Instructors, 2 Bitchy Roommates, and A Chance To Witness an NJP!

On the Twelth Day of Christmas the Marine Corps Gave to me: 12 Ass Chewings, 11 days UA, 10 Field Day Formations, 9 Safety Briefs, 8 Uniform Inspections, 7 MCIs, 6 Counseling Sheets, 5 6105s, 4 Page 11s, 3 Drill Instructors, 2 Bitchy Roommates, and A Chance To Witness an NJP!

On the Thirteenth Day of Christmas the Marine Corps Gave to me: 13 Weeks Restriction, 12 Ass Chewings, 11 days UA, 10 Field Day Formations, 9 Safety Briefs, 8 Uniform Inspections, 7 MCIs, 6 Counseling Sheets, 5 6105s, 4 Page 11s, 3 Drill Instructors, 2 Bitchy Roommates, and A Chance To Witness an NJP!

Submitted by NINJA_PUNCH