Marine Birthday Ball Season
The period from Sept through November was my least favorite time of the year in the Marine Corps. Marine Birthday Ball season, when the pressure was put on us to buy tickets to the birthday ball. Units would have fundraisers to lower costs and find other ways to try to convince us to buy tickets. My experience was brutally funny looking back 20 some years later.
I’ve always had struggles when it comes to formal events, in high school when I asked my girlfriend to attend the prom my senior year, even with my mom offering to pay for her gown, a limo, and the tickets, she declined and said I could go with anyone else. Which meant that I did not attend.
When I first told my coworkers at the market I worked at before I went to boot camp, one of my coworkers was excited enough to offer to attend the Marine Birthday Ball which nearly every unit holds around the November 10, anniversary of the Marine Corps. Unfortunately, after I left boot camp my coworker had left the company, and I had no way to get in touch with her.
Now let’s skip ahead a year to Fall 1997 and I’m at ground radio repair school and the school opened the ball to students which to keep the costs down they offered us free tickets to attend. I decided to invite a friend of mine that was attending a college closer to my parents’ home. This year the ball was held in Palm Springs about 60 miles from the base and over 100 miles from where I grew up. Things were going fine until the night of the ball. My date had forgotten about the ball and went to a bookstore to study for her college midterms. Needless to say, I didn’t make it. It wasn’t a big deal, since it was optional and not our place of duty for that night.
In 1998, I had just been to work for the base MPs as part of the Fleet Assistance Program which required units to give up Marines for special assignments on the base and I was the only one the was eligible from the Tech shop since I had not yet received any nonjudicial punishments (NJP AKA The NinJa Punch). I had invited a good friend from The Bay area, and she was excited to attend but then her grandma whom she lived with suffered a stroke and she was forced to care for her which was understandable. Then to double down on the fun, I had already paid for my tickets and received permission to attend from the Provost Marshall’s Office (MPs). Well, the ball was held in Laughlin, Nevada and apparently there were no physical tickets, and just a list of names of who paid for their tickets and what kind of room they had either a single bed or two beds.
My barracks roommate made fun of my date’s cancelation because there was a girl who visited our room months before in one of the rare cases of me being on base on a weekend. She was a pretty girl who we got along great, but the one issue was she was married at the time, and I was afraid of any complications, she ended up going with another Marine in the platoon who was good friends with my roommate.
The problem after being stuck with an extra “ticket” was everyone had left for Laughlin before I got off of my MP shift. Nobody bothered to give me the name of the hotel nor the directions, so I was kind of stuck since everyone else pretty much left in a convoy and there wasn’t a duty setup. I was shit out luck and out the cost of the tickets/hotel, but I had the day off to rest up. Although when they found out about my inability to attend, and they were not happy with me, and a brief ass chewing followed. (I’ll write about the 6 months that turned into 8 months another time).
1999, this was probably the easiest of the 5 years I served, I was assigned to the WestPac platoon and we’d be leaving for Camp Pendleton in a few days later, and when SSgt Hurricane (A blowhard, spittle spewing terminal SSgt, that made the rest of the battalion who hated us actually feel sympathy for us, He deserves several posts for all the BS he caused) interrupted my MEU platoon Sgt discussing some of the details we needed to take care to leave when he point blank shutdown the Hurricane by telling Hurricane that there is no point in me buying tickets since I would be on the ship during working ups the day the ball was happening.
That time the loss was on what I missed out; it was one of the many shitshows that our Balls turned into. That was the birth of Corporal God (AKA Corporal Hooper who also deserves his own post as he was the hero of our platoon in many ways). Cpl God came from a time when in Laughlin, when Hooper was drunk and while police tried arresting him for public drunkenness, they managed to handcuff him, but he was able to shoulder block several Laughlin Police officers while shouting “I’m God, I created you and I will destroy you.” After that year, our birthday balls were moved because the city didn’t want to deal with us ever again.
I returned from the WestPac in July of 2000. By that time the platoon had dramatically changed the Hurricane was gone, new leadership flourished, and the platoon was for the most part a better bunch. I on the hand, was returning and somehow in my absence gained a negative reputation. By Sept, I was proving that I was the best in my shop since Hooper left shortly after my return.
In Sept we had a field op, and I had a friend online that I talked to often and asked her to attend the ball the night before I left for the field. I woke up to a yes. I had a date before the op. 3 days later when I came back from the field, I received a new message where my date informed me that she had reconciled with her exboyfriend and would not be attending after all.
I had another friend of mine offer to fly out from San Antonio to attend with me. I said yes but then the training schedule changed, I was going to go gunnery (tank crew marksmanship qualification) and then a CAX (Combined Arms eXercise) and we would be finishing right before the ball, I had to cancel because I didn’t feel comfortable having someone fly out and then drive across the desert by themselves.
The original date about a few days later informed me that she could go again after rebreaking up with her boyfriend. Which lasted a few days until she got a job and couldn’t get the weekend off to attend.
I had another friend volunteer who would later join the Marine Corps but since her parents did not know me, they didn’t give her permission to attend. Later after she received orders to the Comm school, her parents brought her to the school after the end of her recruiter’s assistance duty, so they met me as I helped them navigate their way across the base to get her checked in on time.
The final date attempt was a woman I had dated in 98 briefly. She had gotten married in late 99 and by the time I came back from the WestPac, she was beginning divorce procedures. She agreed to go with me and offered to drive to the Prim Valley Resort at Stateline. Unfortunately, since she was still legally married, and her soon to be ex-husband was also a Marine, he threatened to have me charged with adultery if I did attend. So once again there was a cancelation.
I attended and drove alone to the resort. I arrived and checked in and got into uniform. Progress was made, I made it to the site of a ball. I checked in with my platoon and went down to the casino area to kill time with the rest of the guys. Before the Ball, I walked over to the area where pictures were taken and had my picture taken since I wasn’t going to waste another year’s money. Some of the guys in the platoon and I found a quiet area of nickel slots and hung out there which was a major route of the waitresses covering the casino floor. We kept them entertained and they kept us loaded with free drinks. We’d put a nickel in they’d come buy we’d play and flirt a little. Well, we lost track of time, and we missed the ceremony and the dinner. The rest of the night was a real shitshow. My friend and former roommate LCpl Ball was so drunk he was seen walking around the resort wearing a Hawaiian shirt over his uniform shirt and dragging his uniform jacket. And a few of my roommates were part of an investigation of suspected rape when a Marine wife was caught having an affair with another Marine and rather than accept responsibility claimed she was raped, even though she had claimed she was getting a divorce (makes my earlier decision years ago feel a lot better). There were fights between a Marine and the security guards but that didn’t escalate to a new Cpl God situation. There were weeks of investigations that followed that night within the battalion.
The next morning, I was still hungover and planning on driving home, except I noticed a problem with the Mustang that seemed to be the bearings in the rear axle. My SSgt offered to go to Vegas with me to have my car fixed. I used my AAA card and went 50 miles to a shop near the strip. The SSgt and I got a room at Nellis AFB which we discovered rents out unused barracks rooms as a hotel to servicemembers across branches.
We went to the strip after traumatizing some young female SF gate guard who was probably fairly new to the base after asking if she’d be willing to be a tour guide (I mean she looked too young to be able to enjoy the Vegas Strip, but she was cute), and the SSgt tried connecting with a female Air Force officer who was pretty and right around his age. We decided to check out the strip, he was having visitors going to visit him in December and he wanted to see where to take them.
There was a strange energy in the air, first when he asked me to check a map to see where to park, I turned on a map light and the truck in front of us decided to photograph me. Then as we walked around the casinos, women looked at me like they recognized me, and a few times I was asked for my autograph. I had no idea who they thought I was, but I scribbled my name, and nobody said anything more. I wasn’t dressed up I was just wearing jeans, dress shoes, a gray sweatshirt, and a t-shirt. We moved around too fast to take advantage of the mistaken identity but I’m guessing looking comfortable is the key to people thinking your somebody in Vegas more than dressing nicely to impress people.
The next morning the SSgt dropped me off at the repair shop to pick up the car, and they gave me an unbelievable bill of only $200. I drove back home that Saturday and spent the night at my parents’ place and then the Sunday I decided to stop at the store my almost 1st and 3rd date worked at to see if I could see her since it was on the way back to 29 Palms at the Ross at Ontario Mills Mall. I looked around and didn’t see anyone that looked like her, but there was a shorthaired woman who I caught my gaze, but since the hair color didn’t match, she had maroonish red instead of the long blond hair I remembered she had. Later I would talk to her and tell her I was there and turns out that was her. We decided to go on a first date after Thanksgiving and dated for 10 months not counting the times she was angry I worked weekends and decided to break up with me before making up after the weekend. (Figured she wanted to go out and if she did meet someone be able to do what she wanted and claim she never cheated that whole mess also deserves its own post).
The next year was my final year, my contract ended in December about 19 days after the ball I had 78 days of leave saved up since I saved my leave to avoid the stupid shit on the training schedule like Strategic Mobilization Exercises (StratMobEX), and the last year I pretty much worked months straight from late April to August.
I planned on selling 60 days of leave (the max allowable) and taking 19 days of terminal leave. My going away party would be the ball since they scheduled it on a Monday night (who the hell holds a formal dance damn Monday Night?). I invited my 5th date candidate to go with me since she was now divorced. Everything was looking good until the universe remembered to let the fickle finger of fate screw with my plans. My date in between me asking her and the ball received a job offer. And the start date? November 19, 2001, which was the same day as the ball less than a week away.
I had a friend offer to go with me, so the ticket didn’t go to waste. The ride over to Prim Valley (despite the shit show that was the 2000 ball, we were still allowed to hold it there), was clam she spent most of the time talking to her boyfriend. At the Resort, we got ready, and she stayed on the phone. We went down and took our picture together (she’s still the only one I’ve had attended an event and be photographed with me). We made it to ceremony and dinner, but after eating we went to the casino and she enjoyed her Hurricanes that she drank for free despite telling me not to let her get drunk, and she ended up winning money to buy her boyfriend a gift. Near the end of the night, we went back to the hotel room. It had one bed and one of the Marines I knew wouldn’t leave our room as he kept trying to hit on her despite me being there and her being clearly not interested. We finally went to sleep, and it was a little hard to sleep because she snored loudly. Early the next morning, we drove to Vegas to go to one of my best friend’s wedding. We were the only two people to attend, and it was the last time I wore my uniform. After the brief ceremony, the officiant asked if the two of us also wanted to get married which we both declined. After that we drove down the strip and went back home.
Odd thing is that even now I still struggle to have anyone make it to an event with me, even with a whole year’s notice, but that’s a whole other story. After my history of cancellations and no shows, I was made an honorary member of the Big D (Divorce) Club of the platoon. God help me if I ever ask someone to a formal event and they show up, I’ll probably end up marrying them.
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