Marine Corps Stories: All Power

“I’d never experienced racism until I got into the Corps,” said Lance Corporal Lawton Sails. Aged twenty, he stood at 5’9”, possessed walnut colored skin and a regulation fade. He hailed from Wilmington, Delaware. He withdrew some of the game controllers for the video game console in the barracks room.

“Wow. I could’ve sworn that your black ass would’ve been called a N– at some point by a white person before you enlisted,” PFC Adley Bowers said. At age nineteen, fresh from Fort Worth, Texas, this 6”1’ Marine exhibited the classic Jesus look sans the long hair and beard. The Eurocentric vision of the alleged Lord and Savior matched his blond hair and deep blue eyes. “I’m not racist, though.”

Sails looked at Bowers sideways. “Man, nobody said that you were a racist. I’m just telling you that the white supremacists are tragicomical in their confusion. For example, the thing is about White Power Music, is that it’s all black. It stems from punk rock. It stems from heavy metal. These are all the great grandchildren of the blues. A musical style devised by African-Americans. There’s no way that they can get around this fact. Some even have the nerve to record hip hop. And if you talk about country, the banjo comes from West Africa. So, the entire thing is a farce. A crude and malicious one given their forceful track record. They even have platforms on the Internet in which Jewish people especially and white people and some people of color who profess alliances with people of different orientation, ethnic backgrounds, or ideas have instituted sites. White supremacy is but a symptom of the greater disease of collectivism.”

Bowers frowned. A chill seemed to shake him into what Sails had just said. A crooked smile crossed his face. “I have family, I mean there are people that I know that are into all of that white power stuff, but I never got into it.”

“Good. Or maybe not. As long as there’s no violence or inciting a riot, I listen to Heil, The 88 State, Grievous, and The Knights Tonight. That stuff fires me up,” Sails’ eyes lit up like napalm spewing flamethrowers. “I PT with that music in my ears. It’s motivating to me. There’s no greater feeling than to be going down the last mile and hearing ‘We want our country back from the N––!’ at full volume.”

The flashing colors from the video game splashed along the walls of the cramped room. The two Marines played like androids punching in codes and finding new ways to crush each other in the digital realm.

“You should go to a show,” Sails said.

“Out here?”

“Yes, right out on the town. There’s a little joint that I know you can get inside on a given night. See if you can get video of the show. HH is supposed to be playing. I follow them online. They should be playing the night with opening acts like Hammercore, Strikedown, and Knotted Skulls. I want you to get all of that. Understood?”

Bowers nodded his head yes. He made plans prior to the show. When the time came for him to record the event, the young Marine became a clam. He was closed up and quiet amongst the die hard white supremacists. His hands felt clammy, too. His stomach did cartwheels. He wore all black to blend in with the rest. He pulled out his videophone slowly. He brought to his waist level and shifted it so that it would capture the stage.

It wasn’t two minutes before he heard, “Hey! What’s that you got there?”

A skinhead with metal spikes raised from his head like a biker helmet ran over to Bowers. The music kept going.

“We can’t have video recordings of this. Where are you from?”

“I’m from the Yuma Marine Corps Air Station.”

The spiked one grinned. “You know I was a grunt. I had to get out because they were letting in more and more vermin. Look kid, if you want to record it go for it. But I better not see it go up online.”

“Or what?” Bowers said boldly.

“I’ll stomp you and that camera phone,” the spiked one said.

“Oh, and all of them?”

Bowers sent the message and a flood of Marines with Sails leading them and police officers flooded the tiny venue. No melee ensued. Just a phalanx of police and some Marines of all colors just rushed the place. No arrests occurred. The freedom to spew hatred continued to be protected. Just the presence of the police and Devil Dogs drove the white supremacists to scatter. Like vermin.