Chapter 16: Inspection Arms
The Marine Corps is known to give you inspections for about every aspect of the military life. Field Day Inspections, Hygiene Inspections, Uniform Inspections, Barracks inspections - you name it, their is an inspection for it. Not that inspections are bad, but sometimes, you just have to ask why.
I must admit though - I kinda rocked at inspections. I knew how to pass with flying colors. For Field Day inspection, instead of scrubbing my shower, I put baby oil on the tile so that the scum would show up, put baby power in the floor tiles so that they looked gleeming white, and I had an inspection shower curtain. This was extrememly convenient so that I could spend roughly 15 minutes cleaning my room. I had much better things to do like go to Jugheads for Thirsty Thursdays or to the Marina. Why waste my time cleaning? I rarely ever got hit for anything. But the guys? That was a different story. If they failed, they had to stand a Wall Locker and Alpha Inspection that Saturday. See, they should have learned from us girls. We have the smarts and obviously, they didn't.
I loved Commanding General Readiness Inspections (CGRI's). This is when I got to prove how well I knew my job.And I knew it pretty well. Always passed with flying colors and those inspectors loved it when I proved them wrong. They never realized that the certain Marine Corps Orders contradicted one another, until I proved it them. I loved being right.
The one inspection that I really hated were the Squadron Field Day Inspections. We had to strip, wax and buff the hangar hallways during working hours. As we would wait for the floor to dry, you would have some dumbass Lieutenant waltz out of the Ready Room onto the Wet Floor. When we would stare at them like, "Uh, you heard the buffer right? You know it's Thursday and you know that on every Thursday at 1400 we start this process. Why are you surprised that the damn floor is wet?" You would think that being a pilot and having a college degree would mean that he was smart, but really, it doesn't. We were stuck until 1800 buffing this stupid floor because of ignorant people like this. Typical.
The Sergeant in my office decided one day that he would start giving us uniform inspections because I guess he had something to prove. None of us really respected him as we thought he was joke - or maybe that was just me. All he did all day was talk to his wife. Okay, maybe he didn't talk. She would call and yell and him for a long period of time. He thought that just because we didn't speak Spanish that we had no clue what they were discussing. Seriously, I learned a lot of Spanish from Sesame Street. Okay, fine, I was a nerd. I had five years of Spanish under my belt from high school, so we all knew he got busted for cheating on his wife. Watching him gravel to his wife was our daily soap opera, but his acting was so bad that we got over it pretty fast. He deserved a Razzie for his performance.
His inspections were stupid and a waste of time. We wore Charlies on Fridays and cammies every day, so why have a formal inspection? Well, I guess to catch me be unprepared. The one day that we had a cammie inspection, I lost my boot socks. I had everything brand new on me: Inspection cammies, skivvy tee, belt, cover and boots, all properly marked according to the Marine Corps Order. I never would have thought that he would have checked my socks. The rat bastard knew I was wearing boot socks and caught me! Damn...I finally got busted. That sucked.
For the CGRI, I was chosen to stand in the Uniform Inspection. I just thought they would look at us and move on. Nope. They asked us questions too. I was the Queen of Knowledge, or so I thought. The Inspector came up to me, looked my uniform and was impressed. Then he asked me, "Marine, how many aircraft are in the hangar?" Honestly, I had no idea there were aircraft in there, so I guessed. "There are 6 Staff Sergeant." "Okay, how many are 53s and how many are 46s?" Without losing my bearing, I said, "Three a piece, Staff Sergeant," I said firmly. "What is the aircraft number of the 53 in the rear of the hangar, Marine?" That one took me for a spin. "This Marine does not know, Staff Sergeant." He said, "Amazing. Finally a woman admits that she is doesn't anything." Getting a tad irritated, I gave him my "No you didn't just say that" glare. He said, "Turn around and look at the hanger." So I did as he said. Every damn 46 was in there. How did I miss that figuring that I walked through the hanger to get into the formation? I just shut up after that.
Still upset that I made a fool out of myself, I had to prepare for my section inspection. I was pretty ticked because I was put in charge of the Unit Diary Section even though my section was Seperations. I nailed the Seps Inspection, so I was told to answer the questions that the inspectors would have about the Diary section because the Lance Corporal in charge was kind of clueless and nervous. It was hard for me to answer to an inspector about the errors someone else made and claiming them as my own. I would turn beet red from anger because there were so many errors. After that inspection, I was so mad that I wanted to hit something. I went to the bathroom and slammed a stall door. BAM! The door swung back and hit me in the face. What a way to end to this day. Geez...
The one good thing about inspections is that we finally got to see night crew during the daytime. There were some pretty hot guys, especially in the Avionics section. It was a great change of scenery as they waltz around in their little green running shorts preparing for the PFT. I think I just stood there, drooling over these guys. Why are the ugly guys on day crew and the hot guys were the night crew? Injustice I tell ya!
Inspections, I learned, put you on notice to do your very best and to always give 110%. What is sad is that Marines are supposed to do this on a daily basis. Come to think about it, everyday should be Inspection Day, because I liked to check people out on their best days...
I must admit though - I kinda rocked at inspections. I knew how to pass with flying colors. For Field Day inspection, instead of scrubbing my shower, I put baby oil on the tile so that the scum would show up, put baby power in the floor tiles so that they looked gleeming white, and I had an inspection shower curtain. This was extrememly convenient so that I could spend roughly 15 minutes cleaning my room. I had much better things to do like go to Jugheads for Thirsty Thursdays or to the Marina. Why waste my time cleaning? I rarely ever got hit for anything. But the guys? That was a different story. If they failed, they had to stand a Wall Locker and Alpha Inspection that Saturday. See, they should have learned from us girls. We have the smarts and obviously, they didn't.
I loved Commanding General Readiness Inspections (CGRI's). This is when I got to prove how well I knew my job.And I knew it pretty well. Always passed with flying colors and those inspectors loved it when I proved them wrong. They never realized that the certain Marine Corps Orders contradicted one another, until I proved it them. I loved being right.
The one inspection that I really hated were the Squadron Field Day Inspections. We had to strip, wax and buff the hangar hallways during working hours. As we would wait for the floor to dry, you would have some dumbass Lieutenant waltz out of the Ready Room onto the Wet Floor. When we would stare at them like, "Uh, you heard the buffer right? You know it's Thursday and you know that on every Thursday at 1400 we start this process. Why are you surprised that the damn floor is wet?" You would think that being a pilot and having a college degree would mean that he was smart, but really, it doesn't. We were stuck until 1800 buffing this stupid floor because of ignorant people like this. Typical.
The Sergeant in my office decided one day that he would start giving us uniform inspections because I guess he had something to prove. None of us really respected him as we thought he was joke - or maybe that was just me. All he did all day was talk to his wife. Okay, maybe he didn't talk. She would call and yell and him for a long period of time. He thought that just because we didn't speak Spanish that we had no clue what they were discussing. Seriously, I learned a lot of Spanish from Sesame Street. Okay, fine, I was a nerd. I had five years of Spanish under my belt from high school, so we all knew he got busted for cheating on his wife. Watching him gravel to his wife was our daily soap opera, but his acting was so bad that we got over it pretty fast. He deserved a Razzie for his performance.
His inspections were stupid and a waste of time. We wore Charlies on Fridays and cammies every day, so why have a formal inspection? Well, I guess to catch me be unprepared. The one day that we had a cammie inspection, I lost my boot socks. I had everything brand new on me: Inspection cammies, skivvy tee, belt, cover and boots, all properly marked according to the Marine Corps Order. I never would have thought that he would have checked my socks. The rat bastard knew I was wearing boot socks and caught me! Damn...I finally got busted. That sucked.
For the CGRI, I was chosen to stand in the Uniform Inspection. I just thought they would look at us and move on. Nope. They asked us questions too. I was the Queen of Knowledge, or so I thought. The Inspector came up to me, looked my uniform and was impressed. Then he asked me, "Marine, how many aircraft are in the hangar?" Honestly, I had no idea there were aircraft in there, so I guessed. "There are 6 Staff Sergeant." "Okay, how many are 53s and how many are 46s?" Without losing my bearing, I said, "Three a piece, Staff Sergeant," I said firmly. "What is the aircraft number of the 53 in the rear of the hangar, Marine?" That one took me for a spin. "This Marine does not know, Staff Sergeant." He said, "Amazing. Finally a woman admits that she is doesn't anything." Getting a tad irritated, I gave him my "No you didn't just say that" glare. He said, "Turn around and look at the hanger." So I did as he said. Every damn 46 was in there. How did I miss that figuring that I walked through the hanger to get into the formation? I just shut up after that.
Still upset that I made a fool out of myself, I had to prepare for my section inspection. I was pretty ticked because I was put in charge of the Unit Diary Section even though my section was Seperations. I nailed the Seps Inspection, so I was told to answer the questions that the inspectors would have about the Diary section because the Lance Corporal in charge was kind of clueless and nervous. It was hard for me to answer to an inspector about the errors someone else made and claiming them as my own. I would turn beet red from anger because there were so many errors. After that inspection, I was so mad that I wanted to hit something. I went to the bathroom and slammed a stall door. BAM! The door swung back and hit me in the face. What a way to end to this day. Geez...
The one good thing about inspections is that we finally got to see night crew during the daytime. There were some pretty hot guys, especially in the Avionics section. It was a great change of scenery as they waltz around in their little green running shorts preparing for the PFT. I think I just stood there, drooling over these guys. Why are the ugly guys on day crew and the hot guys were the night crew? Injustice I tell ya!
Inspections, I learned, put you on notice to do your very best and to always give 110%. What is sad is that Marines are supposed to do this on a daily basis. Come to think about it, everyday should be Inspection Day, because I liked to check people out on their best days...
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