Sergeant Augustus Trenchfort, USMC, stepped into the recruiting office bathroom and closed the door behind him. Placing his cap upon his head, Gus surveyed himself in the mirror. Ramrod straight, his bearing belied his five foot eight inch stature, but that had always been Gus' strength; he exemplified duty, honor, courage, in a manner that made him seem larger than life. Gus eyed his reflection, noting the double starched shirt of his uniform bore ironed creases that could cut paper. The dark blue serge of his jacket was single brushed in one direction presenting a spanking brand new look, which had been enhanced by the addition of red backed gold sergeant chevrons purchased at the PX and stitched on just last night.

"Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah. Oh, oh, oh, oh, ohhhh." Gus quickly voiced through an almost musical scale, ending in a deep basso profundo that rattled the mirror. He intended to be in full voice when he made his announcement.

"Stop it," Gus addressed his image in the mirror as he noticed a slight twinkle in his eyes. "I know this is the dream assignment of every recruiting sergeant, but this is a mission and you will maintain all seriousness for the Corps! Semper Fi!" Gus snapped a precision salute to the image in the mirror, then squaring his shoulders he turned, opened the door and headed across the office toward the street out front.

From just beyond the police sawhorse barricades, a crescendo of jeers and cheers greeted the sergeant as he stepped out onto the sidewalk. Glancing around, Gus saw that each group had been sequestered in its own spot by the Berkeley police. The Lezzes in Fezzes shook their signs angrily as they shouted "Marines Get Out!" Beyond them, the Feed The Earth Pullets Not Bullets protestors screamed through their feathers and rubber chicken beaks. Even the Naked Guy was there wearing only a strategically placed stop sign. Off to the side, cheers of support erupted from a row of tomato splattered ROTC students. Gus acknowledged them with a nod and also snapped a quick salute toward the American flag held high by the Veteran Bikers group wearing their motley array of various military jackets.

Gus held up his hands to quiet the crowd. At first the jeers got louder but were quickly drowned out by a chant of "Free Speech, Free Speech." When the hubbub had dropped to a level that he could outshout, Gus addressed the crowd. His heart was pounding, for Gus knew that what he was about to say would make him a legend from Parris Island to Camp Pendleton.

"Citizens of Berkeley," he began, as he fought hard to keep from grinning, "the Marines have decided on an answer to your request." The signs stopped waving, people strained forward to hear what this recruiting sergeant was there to announce.

In his finest Drill Sergeant voice and with joy in his heart, Gus barked out,

"HELL NO, WE WON'T GO!"


(-Author's Note- No rubber chickens, city council members, motorcycles, protestors nor Marines were injured in the production of this article. Any similarity of characters to real persons is an honor.)

.jfox.