Memoirs of an Outlaw: Life in the Sandbox

Chapter 43: Aftermath

A “short” eighteen-hour flight later, the plane touched down safely in North Carolina. As the plane began to slow down and make its way off the runway, a bunch of shouts and cheers erupted from all of us. We were finally home. It felt so good to be home, it was almost unreal. Seven long, grueling months had finally come to an end.

We stepped out of the plane and onto the tarmac. Awaiting us were tons of family members who had made the trek to the airport to see their loved ones early. Wives and children ran and jumped into their husbands’ and boyfriends’ and fathers’ outstretched arms. Tears streamed down dozens of faces. It was truly an emotional moment.

Our sea bags and gear were lined up on the tarmac. I knew my family was back at Lejeune waiting for me, so I quickly found my gear and made my way to the bus. It took a good amount of time for everyone to find his gear and load up, mainly because some guys were still chatting with family members. Once everyone was set, the buses began the short trip back to Camp Lejeune.

My first deployment, we were offloaded from the ship directly onto the beach, so there was no real trip back to the base. This time was a totally different experience. As we made our way through a few of the small towns on the route back home, hundreds of people lined the roads, flags waving and Welcome Home signs held high. Chills ran down my spine—the good kind. It was a surreal experience.

It took about forty-five minutes to get back to our battalion headquarters. Our bus pulled up in front of the building, and we began to offload. To the right of the building, a tent was set up. A crowd of family members and a few Marines were there with arms wide open. A few junior Marines began unloading our gear while we sought out our loved ones.

I stepped off the bus and spotted my parents and aunt and uncle in the crowd. My mom waved her hands high in the air. I quickly walked in their direction and met up with them halfway. Tears streamed down our faces as we all hugged. We sat down at a nearby bench for a little while and reminisced about various things. All around, Marines and their families were doing the same thing. It was such a wonderful moment.

After about thirty minutes, I began to seek out some of my fellow Marines. While walking through the crowd, I spotted some of the Marines who had been sent back home with serious wounds. Simms and Rhinehart were both making their way through the crowd greeting everyone. I walked up to them, shook hands, and gave them both a quick hug. It was so good to know that they were all right for the most part.

As the day wore on, the crowd began to thin out. We were given orders to take the rest of the day off and enjoy it with our families. I headed out with my parents to grab some food and talk some more. The first thing we did was head to a local steakhouse, and I ordered a big, fat, juicy steak.

*****

A few days later, most of us left the base for a couple of weeks to get some much-needed vacation time. When everyone finally came back from leave about a month later, things began to change significantly. A good number of the Marines who wanted to deploy with the company had to extend their contracts in order to go. Because of this, many Marines began the process of checking out and eventually returning to civilian life when we got back. Others went on to new duty stations or were reassigned to other units in the battalion. Only a handful stuck with Delta Company, either to ride out their contracts or redeploy with the next Marine Expeditionary Unit (MEU). I was one of the former.

I still had about six months left on my contract, so I stuck around for a bit before moving to Headquarters Company for a short stint and then coming back to the Delta Company for the last couple of months. During that time, I was a witness to the changes that began to occur within the Outlaws. The atmosphere within the company was becoming noticeably different. For seven months, we had endured everything together: we had laughed together, we had cried together, and we had fought together. We had relied on one another to have our backs and would have given our lives to protect the others. We had built a relationship that was stronger than just rank: we were a family, a brotherhood, sewn together by trust, respect, blood, tears, and sweat. Everything we had built together was slowly being torn apart.

The glue that had brought us all together, officers such as Lieutenant Snipes, Lieutenant Nunnally, and Lieutenant Rowell, as well as senior staff NCOs such as First Sergeant Sprague and Gunny Rossignol, started going their own ways. New officers and senior staff NCOs came in to replace them, and while they had respect for our accomplishments, these weren’t the same men who would have taken their shirts off their back for us. They hadn't gone through the same events we did. Along with the senior staff, the rest of the company, the backbone of the Outlaws, began to go their own ways. Many left the service to take on new challenges in the civilian world, like Sprenger and Nava, and others went on to other units or duty stations. By December, only a couple months after we had returned home, the Delta Company I had come to know and love was completely different.

As I watched everyone go, I tried to cling to any aspect of my family that was left. I started forming stronger friendships with some of the Marines who stuck around. Simms, badly burned from head to toe, and I began to grow close. He was fighting to stay in the Corps but had to prove that he was capable of passing a physical fitness test. So every day for a few months, we would both go out to the pull-up bars, and I would assist him in doing as many as he could. He started off at zero, and over the months made his way up to doing a few unassisted. He would eventually stay with the Marine Corps for a few more years. It was friendships like this that kept me going and reminded me of the family we once had and the sacrifices so many had made.

Six months passed, and I made the decision to leave the Marine Corps and enter the civilian world. On my last day, I finished going through the checkout process and made my way over to the company office for my final farewell.

“Tanner, you sure you don’t want to re-enlist?” Captain Quinlan asked, already knowing the answer.

“Sir, I really appreciate the offer, but I think it’s time for me to start a new chapter in my life,” I responded, feeling a slight tinge of guilt for leaving so much behind.

“All right, then, head out to formation so we can give you a proper send-off.”

I walked outside and took my place.

“Company! Atten-hut!” a gruff voice yelled.

A half hour later, approaching the gate to leave, I glanced over at the passenger seat where I had placed the book Captain Quinlan had given me. What am I supposed to do with this thing? I wondered. A book of stories seemed like an odd parting gift. I thought about Captain Quinlan’s final words again, the ones regarding writing something about my fellow Outlaws. At the time, it seemed like such an unusual request, but as time wore on and I approached the gates of Camp Lejeune, memories continued to flood my head, and I couldn’t stop thinking about the family I was leaving behind. As I passed through the gates, I realized that I did have a story to tell.