Marine Sniper Read Online Free PDF Page B

girl."
     
    "I can't get married," Hathcock said in a low, almost inaudible voice. "You gotta be a sergeant. I got busted to private already twice now, and I just sewed on my PFC stripe for the third time. Do you think that they will give me permission to get married?"
     
    "I won't wait," she said. "And they can't tell you no, either."
     
    Hathcock saw there was no use in arguing with her on this subject. He had never asked any of his superiors about marriage; he only knew the scuttlebutt that fellow snuffies told concerning the Marine Corps' feelings about it. He did know that a PFC's or even a corporal's pay was not nearly enough with which to even dream of supporting a wife. But Hathcock loved Jo, and he did not want to lose her. He felt that he could suffer through anything, as long as she was willing, too.
     
    When the alarm buzzed next to Hathcock's head at four thirty Monday morning, the sleepy Marine put his feet on the floor and struggled to stand. He felt as though he would throw up. "Oh God!" he moaned as he walked down the aisle between the rows of racks and wall lockers in the squad bay, heading toward the showers. An hour later he stood at the brink of the confrontation that he had dreaded all night.
     
    "Gunny Yeager, Jo and I are getting married," Hathcock told his NCO-in-charge.
     
    "No you're not." Yeager told Hathcock in a matter-of-fact voice.
     
    "Yes I am. I've already made all the plans. She's got a good job and I love her."
     
    The gunny looked at Hathcock and shook his head. "You will get married anyway, won't you. It's just like that car. I gotta know this. Is she in trouble."
     
    Hathcock looked angrily at the gunny. "No. And why would you think such a thing? She's a nice girl."
     
    "Back off! I have to see the captain, and he will ask."
     
    The gunny looked at him appraisingly. "How you going to live? On her pay? You gonna sell your car? Where you going to live? And what if she does get pregnant? What then? You better think of all this too. You know that bank won't let her work pregnant! If she loses that job, you're shit out of luck."
     
    Hathcock looked at the gunny and said in a calm, low voice, "I'm getting married. You're invited to the wedding. It's November 10."
     
    The next year, Jo became pregnant and had to quit her job, and Hathcock managed to make meritorious corporal.
     
    Once safely on the ground, Hathcock headed for his bunker. He was thinking about the past and the future. He knew his wife would be happier if he left the Marines and put down roots somewhere-got a job and a house. But he loved the Marines, and he had already given a lot of his life to it.
     
    "Eight years already," he said aloud as he walked down a path that led to a waist-high ring of sandbags that surrounded the plywood-and-screen-sided, tin-roofed building, the Marines called a hooch, which housed 1st Marine Division's scout/sniper instructors.
     
    Lance Corporal John Roland Burke lay on a cot. Carlos Hathcock regarded him as the best spotter with whom he had ever worked. The young Alabama Marine looked up and said, "Sergeant Hathcock, you say something?"
     
    Hathcock leaned his shoulder against one side of the long, narrow building's doorway. "No. Just talking to myself. You gonna be ready to move out tomorrow? Gonna work north, I think. Up around Elephant Valley."
     
    Burke nodded, "I'm set. Sure don't look forward to another week of peanut butter, cheese, and John Wayne crackers. Think I'll pack a few cans of jelly, too. Need something different."
     
    Since the snipers had to travel light they were used to carrying nothing but the small, flat cans of peanut butter and cheese. The bulkier C-ration cans were not for them.
     
    Hathcock laughed. "You want to eat good? Learn how to type. They'll have you over on Hill 327, sittin1 around camp and gettin' fat in a heartbeat."
     
    "No thanks," Burke said. "I'm no pogey."
     
    Hathcock headed for the chow line near Hill 55 's mess tent. One last good