Direct Order

I was awakened from my slumber. I smelled Sativa. I raised my vested body.


I noticed some rummaging in the HUMVee, as my body raised. “Sgt., is that you?” I said to the man rummaging. The obvious Marine continued. He was looking for something, but I wasn’t concerned with that right then.”Sgt.?” I said to him, with emphasis.


The Marine continued. I raised my torso and assumed an assault posture, unclasping holster preparing to draw and shoot the condition one weapon. “HALT! IDENTIFY YOUSELF!” I ordered.


The Marine froze in place. He said “S-2.”  He slowly started placing whatever was in his hands down. I accepted ‘S-2’ as his identity, and as he slowly crawled backwards out of the vehicle, I assumed a respective posture, standing up and moving to the rear of the vehicle.

I barely could see his face as he walked by me, toward the Battalion Commander’s tank, ‘the Saddamizer.’ As he walked past, he identified himself. Just as he passed me, I said “I smelled what you smelled.” likely assuming some Marines were in the museum smoking weed through beanie screens or something. There was quadruple door 10 yards behind the vehicle, with some glass broke out.


Anyways, once I got to issue a direct order to an officer, and he strictly obeyed.



Categories: Various Miscellany

About Matthew Clayton

Its in the site...I am here and now right here and right now. Nobody else is me.

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