The Promotion (Chapter to "Hotel Hell")

The Promotion


John slowly walked toward the squad bay looking around the corner before he entered. Inside he knew what was about to take place and he wondered if he was up to the challenge. A promotion in John’s eyes was very important and he just could not understand the meaning of the hazing that he was about to endure. John knew that every Marine before him had gone through the same right of passage. John was a Marine and knew the consequences for not participating in the tradition. To walk away from the traditions of this great Corps would surely be sudden demotion of his character.

John opened the door to the squad bay. As he entered, he saw all of his comrades chomping at the bit to get the first punch at him. The room became suddenly silent as John looked upon his fellow comrades. As a tradition each time a Marine promotes, the Marines of Hotel Battery lined up in two parallel lines and waited for the newly promoted Corporal (Cpl.) to make the long walk to the end. The two ranks consisted of John’s fellow Corporals and those above him in rank. John took a deep breath and slowly walked toward the madness. John stopped for a moment and felt a sense of great pride because he was now a Corporal in charge of Marines. He would now have more responsibility given to him unlike anything ever known of a twenty year old.

The first step into the gauntlet sent chills down John’s spine and the first two punches met their mark. The two punches were off set to each other with one striking high on John’s arm and the other landing low on his thigh. Onward John walked through the arm punches and knees to the thighs. Two more steps forward and John felt pain to the newly pinned chevrons aligned directly over his collarbone. Both sets of metal chevrons dug into his flesh, which caused the pain to go away in John’s arms and legs. Two more steps to go and John knew he was almost home when the biggest of the group finally made his mark. A direct knee to his right thigh was almost all he could handle and John took his last step to the end of the line. Once at the end of the gauntlet the mood turned to celebration and congratulations from all. It was now time to drink and toast to times present and past.

“Welcome to the Non-Commissioned Officers rank” John turned after hearing the voice of his Platoon Sergeant. John admired Staff Sergeant (SSgt.) Bailey and felt honored that Bailey was actually talking to him instead of yelling. Bailey explained to John that he would now be the Section Chief for gun eight. All John could do is smile and told Bailey that he is excited about the opportunity.

The festivities lasted well through the night and John decided to head to his rack after having a few to many bottles of liquid courage. Once back in the sleeping section of the squad bay, John talked with his best friend Timothy Anderson. Anderson shook John’s hand and congratulated him on his promotion.

“So how was the big party? Anderson asked.

“It was very motivational and painful,” John explained.

“I hope you don’t turn into an asshole now that you have a little power,” Anderson said with a serious face.

John just smiled and said, “That’s Corporal asshole to you”.

Anderson laughed for a second and then whispered, “Yes Corporal”.

John knew that his promotion would bring new challenges especially since most of his friends would now be his subordinates. John tried his best to explain to Anderson that they will always be friends and that while they are on duty everyone should respect his rank, no matter what. Anderson knew that their relationship would now be different.

The next morning started exactly two hours after the night had ended. John was up and felt good about his promotion. Due to his promotion, he moved into his own area of the squad bay. This area gave him a little more peace and privacy from the rest of the men. It also assured him that he was now different, separated from the so-called rift raff. John threw on his shorts and running shoes and hurried to formation.

SSgt. Bailey stepped in front of the platoon and immediately called for Corporal John Simmons.

“Platoon aah tenn huttt” The platoon came to the position of attention.

“Corporal Simmons front and center”

John ran to the SSgt facing him and said, “Cpl. Simmons reporting as ordered”

SSgt Bailey looked Simmons directly in the eye and said with a slight grin, “Take charge of the platoon, lead them in their morning run, have everyone back here shit, showered, and shaved by 0800 hours”.

“Yes SSgt”, Cpl. Simmons said with great pride as he took two steps forward, completed an about face, and faced his platoon.

Cpl. John Simmons has waited for this moment since he was a child. John’s father was a Marine and finally John felt an overwhelming sense of internal laughter coming from deep down inside. For a brief moment, John thought about his father and wished he could have been here to observe his son’s first day as a leader of men. John briefly looked up to the sky and felt that his father was watching over him.

“Platoon, Right Face”

“Forward, March”

“Double Time, March”

“Everywhere we go ho”
“People want to know ho”
“Who we are”
“Were we come from?”
“We come from an island”
“Motivated island”
“They call that island”
“Paris Island”

John sang cadence that first day for three miles without calling another individual out to take over. The platoon really seemed to enjoy the new leadership and made sure they were ready for the 0800 formation. This day was the beginning of John’s career as a Corporal who would find himself in the midst of battle in the coming months.


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