IRAQ BACK-TO-BACK WITH AN OLD MARINE

Dear White House:

Att: George Bush & Dick Cheney

I see that the Marines are about to recall some combat battalions for ANOTHER tour of active duty in Iraq. Well, fellers, it's been 30 years since I was honorably discharged from the Marines; I'm 55 years old, but I must tell you, my housemate is angry and terrified that any minute now the green van with the men in the black suits will appear at our door with my conscription orders.

I've assured her that this will not happen, despite the fact that you've done away with habeas corpus, essentially declaring yourselves kings. Congratulations.

But, should you have such a combative design on my discretionary time, I must preface your action with a few considerations, for & against:

Surprisingly, I still remember my service number, so no need to assign a new one, but my short-term memory has become increasingly pesky. I'm finding, as one does in advancing age, that I have sharp & total recall of events from decades ago, but I often can't remember my immediate past.

This is troublesome, because I have sharp & total recall of events from decades ago, but I often can't remember my immediate past.

In Iraq, this may throw a wrench into some combat operations when I can't find my way back to the Green Zone, so I'll just have to rely on the homing instincts of my younger troopers.

I left the Marines a non-commissioned officer. If it's alright with you, I'd prefer to relinquish this rating for a lesser rank. It's become difficult of late (if you'll pardon the unintended wordplay) to command even a good bowel movement, much less a squad of Grunts. I'll do better in Iraq if I'm just pointed in the right direction and sent off toward the enemy.

I'm assuming, despite the evidence to the contrary, that someone there will have an idea where this is.

I also, not to wax on indelicate, have to get up several times a night to pee. I may need special allowances for this in the field. Are there port-o-sans in Iraq? I'm not averse to relieving myself outdoors, but I wouldn't want to mistake an IED for a flat rock in the dark.

True, I don't run as fast as I used to, but I can still dodge a bullet with the best of 'em (you showed me how). I do promise, however, if I lag behind and find myself forced to use my weapon, that I will never mistake an Iraqi non-combatant for a quail.

Should the unthinkable happen, however, I swear to shoot first and never answer questions later. The best policy, wouldn't you agree?

Is there coffee in Iraq? Is the smoking lamp lit? I simply can't conceive of killing anyone before I've had my morning java and nicotine, and I don't do well if I'm awakened abruptly.

The Marines did teach me how to sleep standing up (I see you've also mastered the technique) but I'm a bit rusty there. I prefer to be gently nudged awake, and not be around anything that goes boom. Sorry, but we do get set in our ways as we age.

I'm afraid you'll have to re-outfit me with uniforms. I've filled out a bit.

I've also developed an allergy to Kevlar. Sounds fantastic, I know, but there it is. This might render me helpless, should I come in contact with anything striking me with greater force and velocity than your average skin can repel.

This is why, as moose and deer seasons are upon us in the North Country, that I will avoid the woods. Too often a hunter will mistake another human for a half-ton antlered beast covered with dense hair, and shooting back is discouraged.

The last time I served, I spent much of my time as a warehouseman, stacking skivvies and other essential materiel in rear echelon units. If you can't accommodate me there, I'd prefer a job not easily assumed by a Halliburton employee, who I'd have to train, anyway.

Lastly, I prefer not to have a boss, and I work better when I set my own deadlines. Thus, being told -- when I'm feeling museful and distracted -- that I have to go out and get blown up by an enemy I can't see and couldn't identify if I did, will make me cranky, at best.

It appears at this point that if the Marines don't have a Humor Columnist specialty, we should perhaps abandon my reconscription altogether. You may count my previous tour of duty as time-served.

But, if you feel you really can't wage this war without re-inducting into the fightin' ranks this middle-aged, age-middling, pre-balding, absent-minded, tri-focaled, hyper-prostatic, irritable-boweled curmudgeon with bad knees -- I'm raring to go.

I'm all yours -- if you can get past the rolling pin-wielding woman at the front door who'll smack you both right between your dirty politics, should you attempt to come and take her wreck of a man.

Semper Fi-Fo-Fum,

All best,

Corporal El

(USMC Unreserved Activist)

Copyright 2006 B. Elwin Sherman. All rights reserved.