As I mentioned, within a few months after coming to Cherry Point, it became apparent that racism was not just an army phenomena, it also existed in the Marines. There was often violence within the barracks and in the bars off base. Drug use was also prevalent. To the best of my knowledge, I was only one of two soldiers in my barracks that used nothing other than alcohol – me and another marine George Lerblu’.

      George was nine years my senior and I had become friends with him at Fort Bliss. He was slightly shorter than me and smaller boned. He was also a dedicated weightlifting enthusiast. His years of training rewarded him with a body like the statue David.

      George also had the face of a blond-haired cherub that the women of Mexico found irresistible – both hookers and regular female citizens alike.

      In Juarez, whenever George and I explored a new cathouse, the hookers would go nuts at the sight of George and practically fight each other to be the first one to have sex with him – for free!

      They found his pale skin, blue eyes and blond hair to be very attractive. Also, they consistently confused his reserve but happy-go-lucky manner along with his cherubic face as a signpost of a shy virgin.

      Every woman wanted to be George’s first sexual experience. He never lied to them about not being a virgin, nor did he attempt to educate them about the truth.

      I tried to use the - I’m a virgin card many times and failed each time.

      George was different than most of us marines; with the exception of his sexual forays in Juarez, he was not prone to promiscuity. Unlike most of us he was college educated and very mature, personally disciplined and very self-possessed.

      Though he was not street tough and in the hierarchy that we measured toughness on the low end – he was respected. George was rarely threatened by other marines or forced into fights that seemed to be par for the course for the rest of us.

      His conservatism, his mannerisms and his reticence to frequent the bars and strip-joints and partake in immature roughhousing helped to elevated him to the unspoken status of leadership. Even Big Jim Rhein and Big Red treated George with blustering deference.

      George generally stayed in his room and read and exercised and studied advance military classes and unlike most Marines – he saved most of his money.

      My affection and respect for George was enormous and I did much to emulate many of his personal traits – with the exception of course his inclination towards chasteness.

      Even though George and I were the only Marines in our barracks that did not use any mind altering substances aside from alcohol; I don’t want to imply everyone else were junkies or hopheads.

      Some of the marines only partook of recreational drugs, such as pot now and then. Since I was not involved in drug use, it took awhile for many of the marines in the barracks to trust me. Their natural inclination was to believe I was a NARC or snitch for CID.

      Eventually, most of the soldiers I knew felt comfortable enough to smoke pot or sniff glue around me (lucky me!)

      Violence in the barracks was so prevalent I usually, made sure that every night the door to my room was locked. There was so many nights that a marine attacked another in his sleep, taking revenge for a slight, real or imagined. Numerous nights I was startled out of a deep sleep to the sound of another Jarhead yelling in pain or anger pleading not to be beaten. The sounds of combat coming from another room always jarring.

      There had been occasional inspections for weapons and, when found, had been carted away, the offending soldiers disciplined.

      Well so much for my fantasy; that the Marines were one big well-oiled, close-knit machine… so much for the spirit de corp.

      Even though the Marines were not what I had hoped for, we did have a rough code of honor. If you got into a fight with another Marine, even if you were pushed into it against your will, it was kept between you and the other Marine. It was rare for anyone to complain to his superiors. We had the same philosophy that is touted in Vegas

      What happened in the barracks amongst the Marines, stayed in the barracks, period!