MY FIRST DUTY STATION


As I was leaving my MOS school in Memphis, TN, I was issued a plane ticket direct to Orange County Airport in Irvine, CA. I had been ordered to report to Marine Corps Air Station El Toro. One of my classmates said “Dude I grew up in California- San Diego is a million miles closer to El Toro than Orange County. You should change your flight.” I figured he should know, being from California and all. So, I went back and changed my itinerary. A few weeks later, after I visited with family in PA, I landed in San Diego at exactly 1:15 PM. I walked to the USO club and asked if they had a shuttle bus to El Toro. “Are you joking?! That’s 80 miles away! We got one going to Camp Pendleton though…If you take that one you can probably catch a ride on the city bus and just hop the local routes all the way up to your base.”

So, I rode on a bus full of young Marines bound for Infantry Training. They didn't say a word. Even though they had graduated from Recruit Training, they sat rigidly in their seats, ignoring the scenery flashing by their windows. After what seemed like eternity, the shuttle dropped us off at the Headquarters building at the School of Infantry. All the other Marines started running to get in line at the front hatch. I just stood there watching them, waiting for my city bus. At that point, a Sergeant yelled “HEY GENIUS, YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE IN LINE OVER HERE!“ I showed him my official orders, and he said “How did you end up here? Ah, heck. Never mind all that. Just get your (butt) out of here before the Sergeant Major sees you standing around and meritoriously awards you a job as a machine gunner!”

As if on cue, the bus pulled up to the curb. I got on, and explained my dilemma to the driver. He was very nice and gave me a full pass - to cover any bus I got on. Then I spent the next 8 hours riding buses that zigzagged north, through the Southern California costal towns. Around 11:45 PM (my deadline was 12:00 midnight) I got off the bus and was told “This is as far as I go. I’m the last bus tonight. If you walk down that road about 3 miles, you'll come to the gate of El Toro.” So, I picked up my two duffel bags, my uniform bag, and my little black satchel containing my official paperwork, and began “humping” down the street in complete darkness, while wearing my Service Alpha uniform.

After I had walked about a mile, a beat up Chevrolet Nova, covered in Bondo and missing a tail pipe, pulled up along side me. “Hey Marine, you need a ride?“ “Sure!“ With that, I climbed into the back seat (or where there should have been a back seat) and they lit up the tires like we were racing at Daytona. It was only after I was captive in the back of this death trap that I realized these two were on their way from one bar to another...and had done quite a bit of drinking already! How they made it past the sentry at the gate was a mystery, but they dropped me off at the temporary lodging facility and I spent the night.

I officially checked in to El Toro on March 3rd, 1995. After hearing my tale about the previous night’s adventure, my new Commanding Officer showed me a map. My original destination, Orange County Airport, was 7 miles away. As it turns out, that classmate of mine was from a little town on the California - Oregon border. He had never been south of San Jose.

I spent the rest of the work day completing the obligatory “goose chase” of running back and forth across the base to get signatures on my “check-in sheet.“ Around 4:30 PM, I was finally assigned a room in the barracks. These were nice. Not the 4-man rooms with showers and toilets down the hall like I had in Memphis, but separate two-man rooms which shared a bathroom between them. I no sooner dropped my duffel bags at my feet when two rather muscular Marines busted in through the bathroom door. “Who the ____ are you?“ they said. “Lance Corp-” I didn't finish my answer. “ WE KNOW WHAT RANK YOU ARE, FOR GOD‘S SAKE, YOU‘RE STILL IN UNIFORM! What's your first name?” I muttered “Kevin.“ “That's better. I'm Mark and this is John and we‘re both Corporals. How old are you?“ “I turned 21 in November.” “Good. You have exactly five minutes to get out of that uniform and into some normal clothes.”

Twenty minutes later, I was sitting with these two guys I had just met, at a bar in Newport Beach, CA drinking a giant frosted schooner of beer and watching my first California sunset. John slapped me on the shoulder and said “Welcome to Cali, Bro!”


Submitted by SSgt Kevin Stom
MCAS Yuma, AZ


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