The first day of assignment at Cherry Point, North Carolina, I went to my new commander’s office to check into my new duty station and to bring forth my complaint about not getting my guaranteed MOS.

      As I explained my situation to the company clerk, I noticed two grunts in utilities busily painting the walls of the office were also eavesdropping. I noticed that they shared a look of private knowledge. Their silent exchange made me feel uneasy.

      The clerk went into the commander’s office and then came out and said, “Give us all of your paperwork, your original guarantee and we will get you squared away and send you on your way.”

I was very naïve’ and compliant and as I left the two grunts snickered. My anxiety amplified.

      When I came back from lunch the two grunts gave each other and me a look that filled me with unease. I asked the once helpful clerk how my guarantee was coming along. In response he feigned ignorance. This was my first or second experience of intentional bureaucratic dishonesty; and in the end he said, “What guarantee? We don’t know what you’re talking about Marine.”

      The one grunt whispered, “Welcome to the Suck.”

      The other grunt whispered, “The Suck is fucked!”

      It was then that I knew I was Possum-fucked in a big way.