Just For The One Star
Chapter Three
"Delivery On Promises"
Authored By: Bradley Chapline
Oct 2020
Chapter Three
Delivery On Promises?
Confidence was high when all the boys from the MCAS Tactics team left the base enroute to Hickam Air Force base on the other side of the island of Oahu. This is where they would catch transportation back to Quantico, Virginia for the annual tactics competition.
Not anyone on the tactics squad, nor did any of the drill instructors, knew that cheating was taking place. But, they were about to find out during the competition, that everything they trained for was exactly what they were being tested and graded on. Again, I just knew this was an easy win for us.
Back at the tactics compound, Lieutenant Pfeifer was pacing the floor in anticipation of the results at Quantico. I knew he was nervous when he wouldn't even accept a cold beer from my fridge.
Finally, near the end of the work day, the results were posted. Kaneohe had easily walked away with the gold medal. There were celebrations all over the base. General McMillian called Lieutenant Pfeifer to thank all of us for all of our hard work and dedication in winning the gold medal. He promised to reward all of us.
I wanted to get the hell away from the grunts. So I selected a transfer to the air wing of the base. I hated high and tight haircuts and the constant demands for structure, uniformity, and inspections. I thought I was going to enjoy my new life with the air wing.
My job in air wing logistics had its downside, but it was still a lot better than living with the grunts.
It seemed I just loved to take huge risks. Quite often I knowingly exceeded maximum loading capacities in both C131 and C5 aircrafts. I knew my ass was on the line each and every time I did this because I had knowingly falsified the documents that certified the weight in the cargo bay was under the maximum weight capacity of the plane.
There was more than a few times I stood holding my breath watching the plane takeoff from the airstrip and barely cleared the Hawaiian mountain ranges that surrounded the Kaneohe Air Station.
However, my antics were short-lived. Supposedly, reports had come in on Kaneohe exceeding weight capacities on departing aircraft. I was taken off the flight line and put behind a desk typing operational orders.
It was then I decided to apply for the position of Secretary to the Commanding General of Kaneohe Bay. Everyone, including myself was laughing. No one gave me a chance at being selected for this job.
But, I thought after my personal interview with General McMillian, maybe, just maybe, I had a slim chance. The interview I had with the General went very well. The General especially liked my actions in Vietnam in reporting wrongdoing by a Navy Captain in the South China Sea.
And then two weeks later the virtually impossible happened. The General's office had called and told me to report to the base command post for duty. I thought this was some kind of joke, but it wasn't. I was selected over approximately three hundred other Marines who had flawless service records. All I could figure out was, the General did not want a yes man working for him, and bringing me on as his secretary was his way of repaying me for all my work in helping K-Bay's tactics team winning of the gold medal at Quantico.
One of the first calls I got as secretary to the Commanding General was from my old friend, Corporal Vicki Stone. She said, "You got to be shitting me! You're the General's new secretary? Has he lost his fucking mind!" Both of us were laughing hysterically.
And then things got serious for a moment. Vicki said, "You know, I should be the one being repaid for K-Bay winning the gold medal. Without me, you wouldn't have got diddly squat from Headquarters Marine Corps." I replied, while there is some truth to that, the General is not in need of a blowjob." The phone went dead.
Lieutenant Pfeifer was promoted to Captain and given a cushy liaison job over at a tiny little Marine installation named Camp Smith. This was a high-class Marine Corps base where many top ranked Marines and Navy personnel would have meetings and formal social functions. I just couldn't see Lieutenant Pfeifer in this type of environment. It was not a good fit for him.
But, I would periodically see Captain Pfeifer over at Camp Smith. There were times I drove the General there in his staff car. I made it a point to ask Captain Pfeifer each time to bring Corporal Vicki Stone over to Camp Smith to be on his staff.
He was not listening. I thought it was kind of cold-hearted of him not to reward Corporal Vicki Stone.
While I got along with General Thomas McMillian quite well, my relations with all of the other support staff were not so cozy. They just didn't believe I deserved a prestigious position as the commanding general's secretary. I knew they were right. I was not a good fit in this environment.
Delivery On Promises?
Confidence was high when all the boys from the MCAS Tactics team left the base enroute to Hickam Air Force base on the other side of the island of Oahu. This is where they would catch transportation back to Quantico, Virginia for the annual tactics competition.
Not anyone on the tactics squad, nor did any of the drill instructors, knew that cheating was taking place. But, they were about to find out during the competition, that everything they trained for was exactly what they were being tested and graded on. Again, I just knew this was an easy win for us.
Back at the tactics compound, Lieutenant Pfeifer was pacing the floor in anticipation of the results at Quantico. I knew he was nervous when he wouldn't even accept a cold beer from my fridge.
Finally, near the end of the work day, the results were posted. Kaneohe had easily walked away with the gold medal. There were celebrations all over the base. General McMillian called Lieutenant Pfeifer to thank all of us for all of our hard work and dedication in winning the gold medal. He promised to reward all of us.
I wanted to get the hell away from the grunts. So I selected a transfer to the air wing of the base. I hated high and tight haircuts and the constant demands for structure, uniformity, and inspections. I thought I was going to enjoy my new life with the air wing.
My job in air wing logistics had its downside, but it was still a lot better than living with the grunts.
It seemed I just loved to take huge risks. Quite often I knowingly exceeded maximum loading capacities in both C131 and C5 aircrafts. I knew my ass was on the line each and every time I did this because I had knowingly falsified the documents that certified the weight in the cargo bay was under the maximum weight capacity of the plane.
There was more than a few times I stood holding my breath watching the plane takeoff from the airstrip and barely cleared the Hawaiian mountain ranges that surrounded the Kaneohe Air Station.
However, my antics were short-lived. Supposedly, reports had come in on Kaneohe exceeding weight capacities on departing aircraft. I was taken off the flight line and put behind a desk typing operational orders.
It was then I decided to apply for the position of Secretary to the Commanding General of Kaneohe Bay. Everyone, including myself was laughing. No one gave me a chance at being selected for this job.
But, I thought after my personal interview with General McMillian, maybe, just maybe, I had a slim chance. The interview I had with the General went very well. The General especially liked my actions in Vietnam in reporting wrongdoing by a Navy Captain in the South China Sea.
And then two weeks later the virtually impossible happened. The General's office had called and told me to report to the base command post for duty. I thought this was some kind of joke, but it wasn't. I was selected over approximately three hundred other Marines who had flawless service records. All I could figure out was, the General did not want a yes man working for him, and bringing me on as his secretary was his way of repaying me for all my work in helping K-Bay's tactics team winning of the gold medal at Quantico.
One of the first calls I got as secretary to the Commanding General was from my old friend, Corporal Vicki Stone. She said, "You got to be shitting me! You're the General's new secretary? Has he lost his fucking mind!" Both of us were laughing hysterically.
And then things got serious for a moment. Vicki said, "You know, I should be the one being repaid for K-Bay winning the gold medal. Without me, you wouldn't have got diddly squat from Headquarters Marine Corps." I replied, while there is some truth to that, the General is not in need of a blowjob." The phone went dead.
Lieutenant Pfeifer was promoted to Captain and given a cushy liaison job over at a tiny little Marine installation named Camp Smith. This was a high-class Marine Corps base where many top ranked Marines and Navy personnel would have meetings and formal social functions. I just couldn't see Lieutenant Pfeifer in this type of environment. It was not a good fit for him.
But, I would periodically see Captain Pfeifer over at Camp Smith. There were times I drove the General there in his staff car. I made it a point to ask Captain Pfeifer each time to bring Corporal Vicki Stone over to Camp Smith to be on his staff.
He was not listening. I thought it was kind of cold-hearted of him not to reward Corporal Vicki Stone.
While I got along with General Thomas McMillian quite well, my relations with all of the other support staff were not so cozy. They just didn't believe I deserved a prestigious position as the commanding general's secretary. I knew they were right. I was not a good fit in this environment.