A.G.E's Joint

It all started when I met Charlie Balczak at Mess. Who’s he? An E4 grunt I’d bunked with. A short, wiry guy from Ohio, he could drink guys twice his size under the table and then hold his own in the fights that followed. Oh, he was alright for a Marine. Not quite as crazy as most of them, but he did have his moments. And this was one of those moments. We were assigned to a demolition unit at Ft. Bliss and had just gotten our deployment orders. Yippee. We get to do our jobs for real and get out of this Godforsaken desert. Still a desert, just not this one. This was my first deployment and Charlie’s third. He had warned me that fun was not allowed over there, so we drew overnight passes to get our kicks out before we left.  A good thing was there were no girl friends or wives to answer to. And for what we were planning, that was a very good thing. Butterbar told us Juarez was off limits again, but we’d been 86’d out of every bar in El Paso and Las Cruces was a dump. We h...

Monday, Monday. Can’t trust that day… 7:00 AM and the bullpen was a beehive of activity. Weak sunlight streaming through the windows seemed to invigorate everyone. Phones ringing and message systems pinging, it was a far cry from the late Saturday night, where it was a silent as a funeral in a hard Kentucky rain . The captain was true to his word and left him alone Sunday to get some sleep. He was back with a clear mind a cup of extra strong coffee. Jackson had beaten him in and waved when he cleared the hallway. “Yo! Wally!” Jackson called out. “Latent Prints got a hit on the victim yesterday.” “Nice way to start the day.” Sitting down, Murray took a sip out of the cup and winced. He opened the notebook to a clean page.   “Let me have it.”  “Diego Rodriguez Aguirre, 23, a Salvadoran National here illegally. Has convictions for weapons and narcotics possession. Last arrest was for loitering with intent on Jimmy Carter in Januar...