"WHY ARE THERE PUBES IN YOUR FRIDGE?!"

Whenever I see someone wiping something clean with a towel or rag, I always pay attention to how many surfaces they wipe before changing said towel or rag.

With people being more conscientious about what they touch, and cleaning up after themselves, I saw someone wiping some things down the other day, and it reminded me of this story from my Marine Corps days, where along with some of the clout of being a Marine, also came the role of being a glorified babysitter at times.

I joined the Marines via the delayed entry program, and once I turned 18 I was ready to ship to bootcamp. I was never a bad kid or a bad student, but I felt that fresh out of high school the military was what I needed at the time.

My platoon in bootcamp was comprised of males ranging from 18-32 years of age. I graduated bootcamp as a squad leader, and pretty much everywhere I went afterwards I would find myself in positions of authority within my units.

Obviously positions of responsibility in the military can have their perks, but sometimes they can leave you scratching your head, or wondering if things would just be easier if you didn’t have to be in charge.

These positions of authority can also be hard if you are considerably younger than those you are meant to lead or hold accountable for certain things.

There are two words to make any enlisted, on-base, barracks-living Marine cringe…FIELD DAY. 

Field day basically just means to clean.

Clean all the things.

Field day would commence weekly on Thursday evening, and room inspections would take place Friday morning. If the senior leadership doing inspections felt like a certain level of cleanliness was not achieved, they would punish the Marines by securing their weekend liberty, and make them re-clean on Saturday morning.

With that in mind, the unit level leadership (at least, the good unit leadership) would make sure to do inspections the night before, as well as the morning-of prior to inspection to make extra sure everything was in order.

Let me tell you, you haven’t lived until you have had to inspect another grown man’s living space, and/or teach them how to clean, but alas…that was the position I found myself in for the majority of my time in the fleet because I always lived in the barracks, and was always in a position of small unit leadership. 

One particular evening I was inspecting the rooms of the Marines in my squad. Barracks rooms are, for the most part, created equal as far as their lay out, and the accommodations generally consist of a rack (bed), a dresser or wall locker, and a fridge.

I always knew the problematic areas that most Marines would miss while cleaning their rooms. I could always find the ledges, corners, and surfaces that would normally fail a Marine’s room inspection if left untouched. Upon inspection of one Marine’s room (we will call him Corporal Davis) I found something in this Marine’s fridge that to this day, makes me cringe. 

Corporal Davis had the reputation of needing a little extra supervision and micromanagement, but for the most part his room inspection was going well until I opened his fridge, and noticed what appeared to be a pubic hair prominently displayed in plain view at the very base of the door. My first reaction, “CORPORAL DAVIS! WHY ARE THERE PUBES IN YOUR FRIDGE!” He didn’t even have to answer me because with some easy detective work, I already knew.

His fridge was located immediately next to the “head” (what Marines call the restroom) So what Corporal Davis did was take the rag he used to clean his bathroom to the other surfaces of his room, including his fridge. 

I went to my room and got a stack of fresh rags, and gave him 1 hour to re-clean before I would come back and re-inspect. 

Needless to say, despite being vehemently disgusted, I will never forget Corporal Davis and his pube riddled fridge.