Reflections on Enlisted Life on the Presidio
Something happens when the full moon approaches and the fog from the Monterey Bay comes rolling in off the water, past the herds of deer and seagulls dropping scat on freshly polished cars, mocking the pride and joy of eager young Privates and Marine Corporals … the late-night madness comes floating in with that fog, oozing down from the full moon like some unhinging sound-effect, making the tears in our soul-fabric rip a little further, the chasms bore a little deeper into our psyche.
Something happens on the Presidio of Monterey where bouts with alcoholism, drug abuse, broken families, meth use, pot use, sex too loose which make Privates run around screaming “Suicide!” and other such scandals, drama, and incoherencies.
“I just want you to have a good night,” says the Private, “really, I won’t kill myself on your watch — I promise.”
The oozing down of oddities via moonbeams makes for long Charge of Quarter shifts…
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