"In honor of Women’s History Month, we have a special tribute this morning honoring the life and military service of actress Bea Arthur. Before The Golden Girls and before Maude, Arthur had enlisted in the Marine Corps in 1943. She served 30 months as a typist and truck driver, and achieved the rank of Staff Sergeant. Arthur was discharged in 1945 and began what would become a legendary acting career two years later. She died in 2009 at the age of 86. Records indicate she was a good worker and, at just 21, was “willing to get in now and do whatever is desired of me.” Thank you for your service, Bea, and cheers!” -Jason Davis
Every Marine knows Opha Mae Johnson, the first woman who ever enlisted in the Marine Corps.
Now almost 100 years later, the first four females in history are graduating the grueling 59-day infantry evaluation Thursday at the Marine Corps School of Infantry in Camp Geiger, the Marine Times reports.
Delta Company’s Harlee “Rambo” Bradford and these three other female Marines started as a group of 15 enlisted women, the first to volunteer for a Marine Corps pilot course. The group comes as a result of the announcement made in January from Defense Secretary Leon Panetta and General Martin Dempsey, to integrate women into previously closed combat jobs across all service branches.
My grandma was a Marine during World War II, after she’d worked in an airplane factory in Detroit. She was a Rosie the Riveter and in the military. She entered the Marines following her brothers near the end of the war (not sure exactly when but I think ~1943-4) and worked in the Marine office in Washington. She achieved the rank of corporal.
(seen on Facebook)
"We live in a country with 331.9 Million people currently.
Including all of the academies, officers, and enlisted in all branches according to the DOD the total number of people serving our military in active is 1,425,113 people.
Now of that 1,425,113 only 180,000 of them are Marines.
That means LESS than one percent of people in our country serve our country, and only 1% of those who do serve our country are in the Marine Corps.
Now women in active duty make up about 14% of the total active duty. Only 6% of the Marine Corps is women however, and 1% become SNCO’s.
That means as a female SNCO I am literally the 6% of the 1% of the 1%,of the country.
There are only roughly 14,000 female Marines. That may sound like a lot to you but when you realize there are 331,900,000 people in our country alone, it’s not a big number. To all my Marine Corps sisters past and present, that’s some girl power for your ass! As Nov, 10 approaches I wish you a Happy Birthday!”
Common dress blues uniforms for Marines, regardless of gender, could be on the horizon pending results of a multimonth wear test underway at Marine Barracks Washington, D.C.
My opinion? Bring it on! Anything is better than that muffin-top hat. And necktabs. Oh how I haaaaaated necktabs. Keep the coat we have, but make it the mandarin-style collar, IMO.
whiskyjack: Sorry to put this on you but I have an honest question about depression an suicide. Isn't it completely possible for it to be a alternative for someone. Can't there be someone out there who genuinely is tired and doesn't want to continue. I know there is beauty and wonderful things in this world. There are things to look forward to. There will be more pain but also more laughter. But what if I'm not interested?
well… well first off, i’d say, seek professional help immediately. because i am wildly unqualified to answer your question with anything but experience. and first off, my experience says, if you are in such a deep and dark place where you say things like this to total strangers on the internet, you need to be in contact with someone that can help you start to heal.
second, i’d say… you’re wrong. i’d say the things any of us don’t know, especially about tomorrow, could blanket every grain of sand on every beach of the world with bullshit. And to simply assume you are done tomorrow because you are done today is a mistake. a factual mistake, an error, a critical miscalculation.
i’d say, read Tad Friend’s piece JUMPERS in which he seeks and finds and talks to people that jumped off the Golden Gate Bridge — and lived. And they all say the same variations this: “I instantly realized that everything in my life that I’d thought was unfixable was totally fixable—except for having just jumped.”
And know that this piece has kept me in my seat on more than a couple dark nights.
And i’d say — i’d say i felt that way before too, and i was wrong.
And then i’d tell you something i don’t even think my wife knows. this happend years before we met — shit, more than a decade — and it’s not the first time i came close to suicide was on a thanksgiving night. i’d eaten well and then as the house shut down i went into the bathroom, drew a bath as hot as i could manage to stand, and climbed into the tub with a razor blade.
As i started to cut, as the corner touched my skin and that jolt of pain fired into my head, i stopped and thought — y’know, last chance. Are you SURE?
And i was tired. I sounded like you, that i knew there’d be ups again and downs but i was just so fucking TIRED i couldn’t stand the thought of having to get there. I felt this… this never-ending crush of days that were grey and tepid but for some reason i was supposed to greet each one with a smile. the constant pressure of having to keep my shit in all the time was just exhausting.
I wondered, then — well, is there anything you’re curious about. Anything you want to see play out. And i thought of a comic i was reading and i’d not figured out the end of the current storyline. And i realized I had curiosity. And that was the hook i’d hang my hat on. that by wanting to see how something played out I wasn’t really ready. That little sprout of a thing poking up through all that black earth kept me around a little longer.
I realized then that it had been so long since i’d laughed. I was numbed out and shut down and just… i missed laughing. maybe if i laughed a little i could get moving again. so i’d wait for my comic to conclude, try to find a few laughs, and then reevaluate.
So I’m in the bathtub and i got this real sharp-ass razor, right? And i look down and there’s all my bits floating in the water like they do and i thought okay, let’s get funny and i got to work.
I shaved off exactly half my pubic hair vertically. The end result was a ‘fro of pubes that looked like a Chia Pet that only half-worked. I started to laugh as I did it. And every time i’d piss, looking down made me laugh.
Because JESUS what a nightmare.
Shortly thereafter I got very heavily into Chuck Jones and Tex Avery. Way less chafing and way more funny.
jesus. i was still in high school at the time. dig if you will a picture of the chubby weirdo that was always giggling at his dick in the bathroom. that was me.
And then I guess I’d tell you about Dave, who did the same thing as me a few years later, only DIDN’T have my hilarious Chia Dick strategy in mind and got the razor in and up. And as he started to bleed out “Brown Eyed Girl” came on the radio and he realized he’d never get to hear that again so, in a bloody comedy of errors — I swear to god this is true — he got out of the tub, tried to get dressed the best he could, went downstairs calling for help only to find his family gone, went out to his car, and drove to doug’s house only to find doug not home and so, then, finally, he blacked out from blood loss sitting there in his car, playing a van morrison CD on repeat, until, by luck, Doug’s mom came home and found him.
Fucking Van Morrison, y’know?
A song, a comic, something dumb, something small. From that seed can come everything else, I swear to god.
I guess last I’d say… I’d say that, look — if you reached out to me for an answer, than I have to reach back out to you and insist you hear it. Because it means, what, you know me? My work? You read my stuff and thought, well, fuck, if anyone would know why I shouldn’t end my life, if anyone alive is QUALIFIED TO SAVE ME it’s the guy that had britney spears punch a bear? okay — okay, then, so as THAT GUY I’m saying: Get help. Now, today, tonight, whenever — get to a phone and find a doctor that can try to help you heal, that can try to recolorize your world again, that can help you start caring again. All you need is that one tiny thing, that speck, that little grain of sand. the World Series, AVENGERS 2, Tina Fey’s new show, the first issue of PRETTY DEADLY, some slice of the world you’ve never seen, some drink you love, who the fuck will love your dog like you do if you’re gone, what if jabrams KILLS it on the new STAR WARS, the hell are you doing for Halloween, you ever feed a dolphin with your bare hand? because i have and I am fucking telling you IT IS A THING TO EXPERIENCE and oh god WHAT FUCKING FONT WILL STARBUCKS USE ON THE CHRISTMAS DRINK SLEEVES THIS YEAR — i don’t care what or how dumb but i promise you somewhere in your life is that one fleck of dust that can help start you on the road back. That’s all it takes. One fucking mote, drifting through your head.
And because you asked me I am answering you because i know, motherfucker, i know, i know, i know the hole you are fucking in because I was there myself and if you look hard you can still see my writing on those walls and if you stare long enough i swear to god it’s pointing to up
This was just SUCH an amazing response, and I had to share it.