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“Yeah, and married to one, too. A buddy of mine. We had a super tight group, lots of support for my girls… and now she’s got no one. Not even me most of the time because I’m stuck in the squad bay until I move up the ladder.”
Drill instructors had their own mountains to climb, separate from the main one of rising in the ranks in the overall Marine Corps. At the beginning of drill instructor duty—you were an enforcer, what they called a kill hat.
A kill hat’s whole purpose in life was to destroy and obliterate recruits if they messed up. Which they did, and often. Most kill hats talked like they’d smoked a pack a day their whole lives because screaming for eighteen hours a day did a number on their vocal cords. But beyond that, they also spent the most time with the recruits, and that meant the least amount of time at home with their families, if they had one.
When a kill hat moved up in the food chain, he’d become a J-hat. They were like the teachers, rather than the ones doling out punishment. Usually a lot nicer, too, if a Marine DIcouldbe nice.
And finally, after spending time as a J-hat, they became seniors. Everything got a lot more chill for those guys, as they took on more of a father-figure role and spent the least amount of time with the recruits themselves.
Grant had a long road ahead of him until he made it to that last round, and by the sound of things, so did his wife. It was moments like these I was grateful to work at the range and not be an actual drill instructor. Not that I had a wife to worry about, but more because my gig was about teaching recruits how to use their weapons, not completely creating a new crop of Marines every single cycle.
Okay, yeah. There was some pressure attached to making sure these kids could shoot. Still, it was nothing like what the DIs went through. But they were incredibly important to the Marine Corps. They were the first introduction recruits had to what it meant to be a Marine, so they were impressive, immaculate, and intimidating as all get-out.
I didn’t know if I’d ever draw the short stick and get told to do three years as one, but if I did, at least I’d have firsthand experience after working alongside them while here at Parris Island. Whether or not that was a good thing, I wasn’t sure.
It occurred to me that Grant had saidgirls, as in plural, and I cocked my head at him. “Wait, did you saygirls? Does that mean you have a daughter?”
“Yeah, we have a three-year-old and another one on the way,” Grant said, unable to keep the wide smile off his face. “What about you? You got a wife and kids?”
Even though it’d been about a decade since I’d gotten yelled at by a kill hat, it still freaked me out when they smiled. I had to remind myself that most of them were just normal dudes when they weren’t playing their part, and I could definitely relate to that.
“Nope. It’s just me. Living the dream.”
Hopefully he didn’t detect the massive amount of sarcasm that sat below the surface of my words. It wouldn’t have been there a couple weeks ago, but thanks to my pops and the surprisingly sentimental heart I didn’t know he had, I’d become a little less happy with my life as a single, unattached Marine.
“Hang on,” Grant said, his entire expression morphing into one of fury before I could even wrap my head around the change.
I watched as he tipped the brim of his giant Smokey Bear cover into a more menacing position, then stomped over to one of his recruits with clenched fists. He screamed into the side of the guy’s face, spit flying from his mouth and disappearing on the recruit’s sweaty skin.
Unfazed by this—as it was pretty much a regular occurrence working at the recruit depot, I took another sip of water then returned to the recruit I’d been working with before. I liked that I got to be the guy they dealt with who didn’t have to lose their mind on them. Unless, of course, they did something unsafe with their weapons. In that case, I’d been known to blow my lid, too.
A couple hours later, another opportunity for a break rolled around, and I sat down on a bench next to Grant. We had to stay just out of sight from the recruits as they hydrated before starting another round of practice fire because they couldn’t see their hardcore DI taking a break. It might ruin the illusion that he was an invincible robot whose only need in life was to slay them if they messed up during training.
“Anyway, so no wife and kids,” Grant said, picking up where we left off, “and you’re headed to Hawaii after this.”
“Yep.”
“Man, I don’t even remember what I used to do with all my free time before I met Tess. She already had Sadie, so once we got serious, we got serious fast. It’s been dad life 24-7 since then. Until now, obviously.”
“I don’t have much free time, actually. The days are long here, and I’ve got a side gig that keeps me pretty busy.”
“Oh, yeah? What do you do?”
“It’s called Mr. Fake Date. Women use an app to book me to be their fake date to a wedding.”
He leaned to the side so he could see me fully, one hand propped on his knee. “For real?”
“Yep.”
“So you get paid to go to weddings?”
“Sure do.”
“That’s cool. And maybe a little crazy. I don’t think I’d want to do that much socializing with a girl’s family. Sounds stressful to always be sized-up like that.”
“Eh, it’s not really like that, though. It’s not reallymethey’re judging, it’s kind of like… the character I’m playing.”
He made an impressed noise and nodded. “Yeah, okay. I can see that. But why can’t they go to the wedding alone? What’s with the need to pay someone?”
