Once I got to Visalia Muni, I noticed a beefy Marine gunny sergeant standing cocksure in the hallway. He had an air of vulgarity. He came up to me and asked if I were a public defender. I told him I wasn't, that I was a district attorney. All the better. Pointing to slight and silent young Mexican, the sergeant said he wanted a 488 (petty theft) charged dismissed against a potential recruit. I said it shouldn't be a problem.
We got to talking and, referring to Judge Bradstreet's chaotic arraignments, the sergeant volunteered that they would handle things differently in the Corps. I didn't say anything but was not impressed by the sergeant's bravado or by his hints of rough and ready manly justice.
Mark Cutler, who was representing the would be recruit, came over and had me sign some papers, which I did without looking at them. “A man after my own heart,” said the sergeant, “he doesn't look at what he's signing.” Cutler was quick on cue, “He's all yours sergeant; make a man out of him” and with that he gave me a push on the shoulder.
We all laughed aloud but I wondered why tricking a man into a helpless predicament should be the source of such mirth. Is the laughter a sign of disdain or compassion?
Once the papers were signed, the sergeant began to bitch about wasting all this time in court waiting for pre-trials to begin. As papers were shuffled, he found out that young Marino (for that was his name) had an outstanding $25.00 parking ticket If he paid it, the sergeant said, Marino would then be his and would “work for me” hand waxing cars.
A little later he beckoned Marino to come over. Snapping his arm straight out, he said “Get inside, sit down, keep quiet and smile a lot.” As if impelled by some force emanating from the tip of the gunny's finger, the diminuitive Marino obeyed meekly and without a word. It seemed as if his head was slightly bowed, although it really wasn't.
“Might as well get him used to it,” the sergeant smiled.
Bullying or kindness? At the time I thought he was just being a domineering asshole but years later it I see it differently. The Marine Corps' “yellow foot prints” reception ritual is nothing but shock and awe. Even if you fully expect a cold shower to be cold, nothing quite prepares you for the icy chill when it hits your skin. From the looks of him, the shy and slight Marino was in for the shower of his life. And so yes, the barking gunny was immunizing his charge making what was in store for him a little less frightful.
Whatever it was, it would be better than anything the State of California had to offer him.
We got to talking and, referring to Judge Bradstreet's chaotic arraignments, the sergeant volunteered that they would handle things differently in the Corps. I didn't say anything but was not impressed by the sergeant's bravado or by his hints of rough and ready manly justice.
Mark Cutler, who was representing the would be recruit, came over and had me sign some papers, which I did without looking at them. “A man after my own heart,” said the sergeant, “he doesn't look at what he's signing.” Cutler was quick on cue, “He's all yours sergeant; make a man out of him” and with that he gave me a push on the shoulder.
We all laughed aloud but I wondered why tricking a man into a helpless predicament should be the source of such mirth. Is the laughter a sign of disdain or compassion?
Once the papers were signed, the sergeant began to bitch about wasting all this time in court waiting for pre-trials to begin. As papers were shuffled, he found out that young Marino (for that was his name) had an outstanding $25.00 parking ticket If he paid it, the sergeant said, Marino would then be his and would “work for me” hand waxing cars.
A little later he beckoned Marino to come over. Snapping his arm straight out, he said “Get inside, sit down, keep quiet and smile a lot.” As if impelled by some force emanating from the tip of the gunny's finger, the diminuitive Marino obeyed meekly and without a word. It seemed as if his head was slightly bowed, although it really wasn't.
“Might as well get him used to it,” the sergeant smiled.
Bullying or kindness? At the time I thought he was just being a domineering asshole but years later it I see it differently. The Marine Corps' “yellow foot prints” reception ritual is nothing but shock and awe. Even if you fully expect a cold shower to be cold, nothing quite prepares you for the icy chill when it hits your skin. From the looks of him, the shy and slight Marino was in for the shower of his life. And so yes, the barking gunny was immunizing his charge making what was in store for him a little less frightful.
Whatever it was, it would be better than anything the State of California had to offer him.
No comments:
Post a Comment