Lonestar beer - Story Time!

At my last Marine Corps duty station, we served under Major General Evil. This particular general officer was the tool of Satan. He was simpering, political, pandered to any and all media outlets, and often stuck his head in our office to bitch at our officers for imaginary slights.

He once delivered a group ass-chewing to the lieutenant in my office, our senior NCO and me. Why? I'd been promoted and since we worked in a wing of his building, we should have told him. Rather, I'd asked the lieutenant (a fabulous officer) to do it, specifically to avoid having Evil General put my sergeant's stripes on (and the LT had done it, specifically to avoid having to listen to the general ramble on in our office). It wouldn't have been a big deal, but he seemed seriously offended that any Marine in his "orbit" would rather be promoted by a butter bar.

He also ordered the base NCO club to stock orange soda (his preferred beverage), so he could enjoy one when he'd drop in and annoy the NCOs who were trying to hide from officers and drink in the dark. This, it seemed to him, was camraderie.

Jackass.

Time passed, and the day came when General Evil was to leave us. He was to be replaced a one-star. I was tasked to narrate the change of command ceremony.

I narrated a lot of these, having been gifted with the (rare in the Marine Corps) ability to read aloud in a non-stilted manner. We rehearsed the parade for several days.

One day during rehearsal, I was standing behind the podium and smoking a cigarette while the base sergeant major chased field grade officers around the parade deck, trying to explain the proper manner in which to march the staff forward. A shadow approached from my right. I glanced over, caught shiny stars out of the corner of my eye. I dropped my cigarette, assumed the postion of attention, rendered a sharp salute, and greeted the general.

"Jesus Christ, sergeant," he growled. "Pick up that cigarette. Those things are expensive these days."

It was the new Commanding General, and he chatted with me a couple minutes while I smoked (nervously).

The change of command went off without a hitch. I resisted the urge to say, "Hurry up! Faster!" when the sergeant major passed the colors to the new commander.

The new general's remarks, in which he introduced himself, included mention of how happy he was that the local cops had never "caught up to him" when he was a young officer at our base.

Within a week, he'd had the orange soda in the NCO club replaced with Lonestar beer. That was his beverage of choice, and he'd often drop in and have a beer with his corporals and sergeants. Unlike when Evil General would visit, we looked forward to seeing the new CG. Yes, he was a general, but you could shoot the breeze with him.

Evil General retired as a two-star. Awesome General is still out there in the Marine Corps. And tonight when I saw Lonestar at the gas station, I thought of him and bought a six-pack.

So, LtGen. Weber, this one is for you.