Marine Corps Stories: Sounds of the Marines

The United States Marine Corps Drum and Bugle Corps (D&B) readied their instruments, the freshly-polished brass gleaming in the Arizona sun. Their mission: supporting Commandant Wainwright’s appearance at the base where she’d served years ago as base commander, before her promotion to top Marine.

They practiced on the field of the Yuma Marine Corps Air Station (YMCAS) in 102° F heat.

“You will treat your instruments like rifles. You must keep them clean and in working order. You are Marines first, with the added duty of being the Commandant's Own,” Master Sergeant Amos Gilken said. Flecks of gray showed in the Caesar haircut framing his brown face. They wore green PT gear instead of the pristine black, white, red, and gold uniforms they’d usually worn for ceremonies.

The band struck up again, and the brass and woodwinds still sounded a bit off.

“Again. I will not yell or put hands on any of you. This is different from the Corps your friends told you about, or you’ve seen in the movies. We are still Marines. Joseph-Barr,” Gilken said.

Mary Joseph-Barr’s blonde hair glowed like a halo in the sun. She said, “Yes, Master Sergeant.”

“Ease up on the reed. You’ve got this,” Gilken said.

The band commenced at the master sergeant’s command. He noticed the percussion slipped a bit.

“We’re playing for the highest ranking Marine in the Corps. We’re playing for this country. We’re playing for the world. And of course, for ourselves. Loosen up. Don’t be jittery. Do this for the Devils in the thick of the thick of it.”

This time, the strings and brass were out of sync.

Gilken continued, “I’ve got time. I’ve got time to make sure that we’re more than perfect. I demand nothing less than excellence,” he said.

“I expect you all to perform beyond what you think you’re capable of. The Commandant is looking for the sublime in her Marine Corps Band. Remember that. Now, we’re going to tighten up. On your faces.”

The band placed their instruments on their seats. They proceeded to push down the earth.

“Alright, mountain climbers.” The band then began exercising in this next style.

“Alright. Get back on your feet. Retrieve your instruments.”

Sweat rolled down the Marine musicians’ faces like transparent asps, slithering through the grass.

“And,” Glicken motioned them to start at the top of the piece of music.

The music sounded as polished as precious gems.

“That was better but we can’t be better can we?”

“No, Master Sergeant!”

“That’s what, now?”

“No, Master Sergeant!”

“That’s what I’m talking about. We can’t just be better, we must be the best.”

They resumed playing on Glicken’s command. The notes were like perfume wafting through the ranks. The soulful, sweet, but still austere and sharp sounds, emitted from the hands and mouths of the band members.

“We are going to be playing for the senior-most Marine in the Corps. We can play football games, and take those moments as something special, but this is a monumental moment before us. We have the opportunity to show the Commandant of the Marine Corps that we have shown ourselves approved. You understand?”

“Yes, Master Sergeant!”

“You, Safer.”

“Yes, Master Sergeant.”

“What are you here to do?”

Safer stood at about 5’11,” burning from exposure to the bright star in the sky. He grew pensive. Then he straightened suddenly and said with a confident voice, “To be better than better.”

Glicken’s eyes widened. “Outstanding. Listen to this motivator. What we’re going to do is take that attitude with us all the way to that hangar, for Commandant General Misha Wainwright!”

Now the sections sounded crisp and synchronous, reflecting the excellence Glicken demanded. The D&B would be well-prepared to do themselves proud.