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Maggie’s Motivational Pic Thread v2.0 - - New Rules - See Post #1

Image 488.jpg
 
This hurts the Heart!!
MY FIRST NOTIFICATION…………

My third or fourth day in Norfolk, I was notified of the death of a 19 year old Marine. This notification came by telephone from Headquarters Marine Corps. The information detailed:

*Name, rank, and serial number.

*Name, address, and phone number of next of kin.

*Date of and limited details about the Marine’s death.

*Approximate date the body would arrive at the Norfolk Naval Air Station.

*A strong recommendation on whether the casket should be opened or closed.

The boy’s family lived over the border in North Carolina, about 60 miles away. I drove there in a Marine Corps staff car. Crossing the state line into North Carolina , I stopped at a small country store / service station / Post Office. I went in to ask directions.

louisetibbettsandstore20thanniv

Three people were in the store. A man and woman approached the small Post Office window. The man held a package. The Store owner walked up and addressed them by name, “Hello John. Good morning Mrs. Cooper.”

I was stunned. My casualty’s next-of-kin’s name was John Cooper!

I hesitated, then stepped forward and said, “I beg your pardon. Are you Mr. and Mrs. John Cooper of (address.)

The father looked at me – I was in uniform – and then, shaking, bent at the waist, he vomited. His wife looked horrified at him and then at me. Understanding came into her eyes and she collapsed in slow motion.

I think I caught her before she hit the floor.

The owner took a bottle of whiskey out of a drawer and handed it to Mr. Cooper who drank. I answered their questions for a few minutes. Then I drove them home in my staff car. The store owner locked the store and followed in their truck. We stayed an hour or so until the family began arriving.

I returned the store owner to his business. He thanked me and said, “Mister, I wouldn’t have your job for a million dollars.” I shook his hand and said; “Neither would I.”

I vaguely remember the drive back to Norfolk. Violating about five Marine Corps regulations, I drove the staff car straight to my house. I sat with my family while they ate dinner, went into the den, closed the door, and sat there all night, alone.

My Marines steered clear of me for days. I had made my first death notification
 
This hurts the Heart!!
MY FIRST NOTIFICATION…………

My third or fourth day in Norfolk, I was notified of the death of a 19 year old Marine. This notification came by telephone from Headquarters Marine Corps. The information detailed:

*Name, rank, and serial number.

*Name, address, and phone number of next of kin.

*Date of and limited details about the Marine’s death.

*Approximate date the body would arrive at the Norfolk Naval Air Station.

*A strong recommendation on whether the casket should be opened or closed.

The boy’s family lived over the border in North Carolina, about 60 miles away. I drove there in a Marine Corps staff car. Crossing the state line into North Carolina , I stopped at a small country store / service station / Post Office. I went in to ask directions.

louisetibbettsandstore20thanniv

Three people were in the store. A man and woman approached the small Post Office window. The man held a package. The Store owner walked up and addressed them by name, “Hello John. Good morning Mrs. Cooper.”

I was stunned. My casualty’s next-of-kin’s name was John Cooper!

I hesitated, then stepped forward and said, “I beg your pardon. Are you Mr. and Mrs. John Cooper of (address.)

The father looked at me – I was in uniform – and then, shaking, bent at the waist, he vomited. His wife looked horrified at him and then at me. Understanding came into her eyes and she collapsed in slow motion.

I think I caught her before she hit the floor.

The owner took a bottle of whiskey out of a drawer and handed it to Mr. Cooper who drank. I answered their questions for a few minutes. Then I drove them home in my staff car. The store owner locked the store and followed in their truck. We stayed an hour or so until the family began arriving.

I returned the store owner to his business. He thanked me and said, “Mister, I wouldn’t have your job for a million dollars.” I shook his hand and said; “Neither would I.”

I vaguely remember the drive back to Norfolk. Violating about five Marine Corps regulations, I drove the staff car straight to my house. I sat with my family while they ate dinner, went into the den, closed the door, and sat there all night, alone.

My Marines steered clear of me for days. I had made my first death notification
As tramdic as it is for the notifier, you will never understand the gratitude of the family, who understandably are distraught, but appreciate the efforts made by that person who came to notify them. It's that last line to their love one that's hard to grasp.
 
Never says anything about India or Africa. Who knows his first name might have been Black and last name Sambo
And Little Black Sambo was also Indian. No Bengal tigers in Africa as far as I know. But I'm just here for the tits.
Page 46 "India"

And they still ran
faster and faster and fast-
er, till they all just melt-
ed away, and there was
nothing left but a great
big pool of melted butter
(or "ghl," as it is called
in India) round the foot
of the tree.

Opening text "black boy"

The Story of
Little Black Sambo.


The Story of
Little Black Sambo.


ONCE upon a time

there was a little

black boy, and his name

was Little Black Sambo.


And his Mother was
called Black Mumboo


And his Father was
called Black Jumbo.


Some history for @lash

history-in-memes-14-6172cd405e8f7__700.jpg
 
Last edited:
Page 46



Opening text
OK, I give up! What-fucking -ever, I haven't read the book in close to 65 years! And I didn't just happen to (like some) have a copy close by. My point was, wokeness and DEI is ruining young children, pure and simple. In my four or five year old mind I thought Sambo was a badass for turning tigers into butter. There was no color or nationality involved. I was making fun of myself and the do-gooders that turn a fun innocent story into a a shitfight. At the time "Sambo" was read to me the only thing I knew about Africa was that was where lions, Elephants and Tarzan lived. Aladdin and people that played flutes to cobras lived in india. I was totally colorblind until (age 13) when I went to high school in the big city. I apologize that some of my comments go right over peoples heads. Then again, I think some people would try to discredit and argue with a stop sign. Look's like my comments got some people to pull out their "Little Black/Brave Sambo" book and fact check my intended sarcastic, attempt at humor, jab at leftist goofy idiots.
Now that was a perfectly good way to miss half a 1955 episode of Gunsmoke, hell Miss Kitty was so young she didn't even have a beauty mark yet.