Rifles for Canons

Shortly after graduating from high school, I enlisted in the United States Marine Corps. I passed the ASVAB (Armed Services Vocational Aptitude Battery) with a decent enough score to get any job that interested me.

Being a typical kid from the Gary Region, I just wanted to get away from the area as soon as possible. With the recruiter filling my head with wild stories of exotic places in the Mediterranean, Australia, and the Orient, the infantry is what you want to get into, he said. Besides, Russia has just collapsed! There’s nobody to fuck with us any more! I was captivated. Where do I sign? Right here on the dotted line he replied.

Less than a week into boot camp, Iraq invaded Kuwait. I remember the drill instructors being giddy in the cruelest of ways. Screaming about how lucky we were to have a war waiting for us IF we survived them and their thirteen week version of hell.

I survived and proceeded to my vocational school, the School of Infantry at San Onofre, Camp Pendleton.

The Marines are, if nothing else, the definition of meticulous. The way they approach training, in anything they teach, is broken down in the simplest of terms, repetitively, until it becomes almost second nature. I learned my job, and I learned it well.

The Military Occupational Specialty 0311 is designated as 0311 Rifleman. Otherwise, it is affectionately known as The Grunts.

The Marine Corps becomes a way of life for every Marine during their enlistment, but it is different for The Grunts. For them, the infantry becomes a way of life also. There is a different camaraderie between them.

The Grunts life is not a pretty one. The rifleman is just that. A man literally on the front line with his rifle. Depending on the guy next to him for his own survival and him depending on you.

The mission of the infantry is — to locate, close with, and destroy the enemy by means of fire and support.

Fellow Grunts just get one another more than other Marines. Every job in the Marine Corps is to support The Grunts. Just ask a Grunt.

Roughly ten percent of all Marines are Grunts. Training is continuous due to the nature of the beast.

I served my four years and never saw exotic places like the Mediterranean or Australia. The jungles of Panama, the burning oil rigs in Saudi Arabia, and the war-torn streets of Mogadishu were as exotic as it got for me.

After my enlistment, it always seemed like something was missing. The structure of The Corps and the camaraderie of my fellow Grunts wasn’t there. Leaving a huge hole, I could not place what it was. As excited as I was about being a civilian again, I did not realize that subconsciously, I missed what I had become. There was no place to ply my trade. As one could imagine, nothing to locate, close with, or destroy. Hard to legally do as a civilian.

I went hunting a few times with some friends. It scared me to death. No respect for their weapons, no fire discipline, or anything resembling how men should act in the field. For a quick minute, there was a hint at what I was missing, then some bird shot came way too close. I respectfully declined the next time I was asked to go.

The years came and went. My wife is an amateur photographer. I watched as she graduated from one camera to another and became really good with Photoshop. She has a passion for catching someone in the moment. Especially loved ones. She has become a very good photographer.

Sometimes, on a trip or on vacation, I would mention the sunset would make a great picture, or the barn with the fall leaves would be a gorgeous shot.

So she began to encourage me. She would tell me to ‘take a pic, its not hard’. By this time, every phone had a camera on it. She would give me tips on angle and light.

Something started to click (no pun intended). Taking pictures of birds at the feeder was a start. To wait for a cardinal or bluebird to come in and then getting a shot off when they were in a good position, only for them to fly away, felt good.

So I invested in a point and shoot camera. I took it on vacation to Clearwater, Florida. With some help from my wife, the shots of the bay and the sunsets looked great to me (for my first attempts). Suddenly, I realized that that void I carried with me became smaller.

Here, I was outside aiming at something. Some of the same lessons I learned as a Grunt were starting to kick in. Being still, knowing the terrain, being mindful of the sun, and holding a position all came back to me, like second nature.

I essentially graduated to a Canon Rebel T7. It was a whole new ballgame. Sure it has auto focus, but there is so much more to it. I had to learn about focal point, ISO, aperture, and shutter speed.

At my best, in my hay day, I could field strip the M-16A2 rifle in under thirty seconds. Blindfolded. But this was a whole new piece of gear. My new ‘weapon’ is far more intricate than the ancient M-16. Between Photography For Dummies, Google, and YouTube, I started to realize that learning about photography was going to be more daunting than I thought.

With a ton of trial and error. I found myself wishing I had instruction Marine Corps style. DUMB IT DOWN! That’s what I did for the basics. Read and reread one topic at a time. Until it clicked. When going out to the field, remember the seven P’s. Proper prior planning prevents piss poor procedure. Pack the essentials, lens, extra batteries, rain gear, etc.. I even got a backpack resembling my old ALICE pack. Yeah, the Grunt was still in there. The void is minute now.

The best part/parts are we can travel wherever we want, not sleeping in the rain, and my feet aren’t sore after a hike or a day in the field. If it wasn’t for my wife to push me to try photography, that void would still be haunting me. Thanks, babe.