As my wife and I were walking into the commissary at Parris Island this morning, just ahead of us was a Marine master sergeant — a DI, a Hat. From the look on his face, he didn’t much care whether he went in through the door or the wall.
Just for a second, my blood froze. Primal memories of military training long ago. Then I told myself: Get a grip! You’re retired. You’re Air Force. You’re a colonel, fer crissakes!! It seemed to help.
Sure glad he’s on our side.