As my mind drifts away from the dull digitalized slides, I long to take up my rifle, fit it into the pocket of my shoulder and sight in on the points of danger: the doors. That is my urge: take up my weapon and be a Marine.
I do not need cammie paint, I do not need to black out the shine from my tracks. I need my rifle and an objective.
I have a mission that strains only my ability to absorb useful information. The information is only icing on the three years I spent learning my craft. But neither the useful information nor my craft challenge me the same as my chosen profession. I want the Challenge to extend to all my capabilities. I want to fight sleep, a wandering mind, the cold, the humidity, the heat, hunger, the urge to relieve myself, and stay focused on the kill zone.
The urge is what makes me a Marine lawyer and not a Navy or Army or Air Force lawyer. The urge was fostered and nurtured in the six months of basic infantry officer training. The urge carries six months of field training that brings reality and further understanding to Operation Law--something that is not fully understood by my fellow Navy student lawyers.
Perhaps we could move class outside for a time. Dig fighting holes before we conduct a mock administrative separation board or a court-martial.