That occurred two weeks later, on a Wednesday night. I was under orders to make sure I was home in time for dinner. We were to meet Sergeant Rodriguez at 7:30. The girls were more curious than anything else, Marilyn and I were rather resigned, and Charlie was very nervous. He was pacing back and forth and looking out the windows, and Marilyn and I were looking at each other and simply shaking our heads and rolling our eyes.
A few minutes before the appointed time, I went down the hall to my bathroom. Needless to say, that was when the doorbell rang. Well, there were plenty of other people to handle the matter. Then I heard Dum-Dum bark, and smiled to myself. Definitely, somebody else could handle the problem!
I took a piss and then washed up. As I started heading back out of the room, I heard Marilyn comment, “Oh, dear!” That made me wonder what the problem was.
I quickly found out. Marilyn was standing there in the living room, holding Dum-Dum in her arms. Dum-Dum was now at least 15 years old, and she was an old dog. She had a bit of a limp these days (well, so did I), and her face had a lot of white hair, and she wasn’t moving too fast anymore, but she was still excited to see people. She was squirming in Marilyn’s arms and was licking the sergeant who had bent down to allow this. Charlie was standing there holding the sergeant’s coat. I came closer and then the sergeant stood upright and turned to face me. That was when I realized why Marilyn had said, “Oh, dear!”
Sergeant Rodriguez was a member of the United States Marine Corps!
I couldn’t help myself! I swear to Christ, I couldn’t help myself! I turned to Charlie and said, “The Marines!? Are you kidding me? The Marines!?”
Marilyn laughed and set down the dog, who scampered around a bit before heading off to jump up on the couch. “You behave!” she told me. To Sergeant Rodriguez, she said, “Don’t mind him. He used to be an Army paratrooper.”
The sergeant smiled and nodded in understanding. “Yes, ma’am. Army paratroopers are just guys who wanted to be Marines and didn’t make the cut.”
Marilyn laughed heartily at that. “Carl, I think we have found your match!”
I gave a wry smile and shook the sergeant’s hand. “Nothing personal, Sergeant, but my understanding was that the Marines were the guys who found jump school too hard. Welcome.” I turned my head to my grinning son., “If this is a joke, you will spend the rest of your very short life digging your grave out back!”
He laughed and said, “It would almost be worth it.”
I snorted and turned back to the sergeant. “Well, I can always kill him later. Come on in. I’m sure my wife has coffee on.”
Sergeant Rodriguez was perfectly charming, and made a fine case for Charlie to join the Marines. Despite my many jokes over the years about recruiting sergeants, the days are long past when they could lie about everything and not give a damn about the consequences. At Lefleur Homes I had hired several recruiting sergeants, since they made excellent salespeople. Ever since the advent of the all volunteer force, military recruitment has taken on an almost professional air, with recruits signing contracts, and the military having to honor the contract in most cases (assuming nobody is shooting at you at the moment.) It was also obvious that the sergeant had done his homework. He knew who I was, as in I wasn’t some routine schlub sending his kid out. I had a fair amount of juice.
I listened to the sergeant, and also watched Charlie’s face. It was obvious to me that my son wasn’t doing this just because he couldn’t think of anything else. He had obviously swallowed the Kool Aid.
They don’t just let any old asshole in the Marine Corps. It’s not like the old days where you could just sign up, or be sentenced in some cases, and be sent off as cannon fodder. Charlie would have to take both the ASVAB, a military SAT type test to see if he was smart enough, as well as a pre-ASVAB to even get that far. There would be a couple of physicals, including drug testing. I wasn’t too worried about that, since I hadn’t seen any indications of it, but the parents are always the last to know.
At the end of the spiel, I looked over at Marilyn, who gave a resigned shrug of her shoulders. That was probably about as much of a positive sendoff as a Lefleur was going to give. I nodded back to her, and then turned to face the sergeant.
“Okay, I think it’s my turn to speak, for both me and Charlie’s mother. First and foremost, Charlie is not leaving here until after he graduates from high school, and he is going to graduate, and he is going to graduation. There will be no exceptions on that. Is that understood, Mister?” I asked our son.
“Uh, yeah, sure.” I gave him a hard look, and he swallowed and said, “Yes, sir!”
“Good. Remember that phrase.”
Sergeant Rodriguez snorted at that. “Fine by us, Congressman. We don’t want him if he doesn’t graduate.”
I nodded. “Where are you out of, Sergeant? Towson or Reisterstown?”
“Towson, sir.”
“Do you have some form of physical conditioning program? Something to toughen these kids up before they report in?”
I received a smile in return. “Yes, sir, we do. We will be expecting Recruit Buckman to attend, too.”
“I’m in shape!” protested Charlie.
I gave him a disgusted look. “You think you’re in shape. You are soft and weak. You couldn’t pass the Marine standards right now, let alone Army standards. You will cooperate with the sergeant or find another job. Got it?”
“Yes, sir!”
I nodded. In reality, Charlie was in perfectly fine shape to join up, but he could use the discipline and structure involved.
I looked back at Rodriguez. “Okay, a question for you. You can’t have him until graduation, which is in June. He turns 18 in October and you don’t need our permission then. That makes me think you will be sending him to boot camp in between.” I made the last sentence into a question.
“In August, sir.”
“Parris Island?”
“Yes, sir.”
I shrugged. South Carolina in the summer. It should be delightful! From what the Sergeant had told us, boot camp would run 13 weeks, so he would be tied up with them until sometime in November. He would get a week’s leave at that point, and then off to the School of Infantry for another couple of months of combat training at some place near Camp Lejeune. That would probably keep him busy through Thanksgiving and Christmas. He’d probably get another leave after that, and then find his ass shipped off to his duty station. At that point he’d be assigned to a battalion and follow them wherever they were sent. He would have a four year commitment, followed by another four years in the inactive reserves.
“Okay. We’ll go along with this, but we won’t sign the papers until after graduation. Then you can take him and be welcome to him! I do want to ask a favor, though.”
“Yes, sir?”
I sighed. “Sergeant, you know who I am. I’m a U.S. Congressman, and I am relatively well known. I can’t require you to do this, but I can ask, as the father of a young man. I know how the services work. When you put through his paperwork, I want to see a mistake. Don’t enlist him as Charles R. Buckman. I want you to enlist him as Robert C. Buckman. And I don’t want you to use his address here. We can use the address in Washington.”
Sergeant Rodriguez’ eyes widened at that, and both Marilyn and Charlie started protesting and asking what I was up to. Even Dum-Dum looked up from where she was sleeping. I kept my eyes on the sergeant, however. “Sir, that would be very unusual. Why would I do that? Charlie will have to provide his birth certificate,” he replied.