The Boys in Blue White Dress

Washington, DC                                                                 Friday afternoon                                                                    22 Nov 1963

This afternoon, we're having organized grab-ass time.  It's a clear and cool November day, with light rain forecasted later.  Don't know where the name organized grab-ass came from, but it's one of those Marine Corps things.  Years ago, some Snuffy, which is a term of endearment for the troops, tagged it with that name.  It stuck, and thusly some Marine became a "Snuffy Extraordinaire."  Anyway, it's organized athletics today, and the Drill Team is playing the Color Guard/Body Bearer Section in six-man flag football...jungle rules.  I'm playing with the DT so this gives the Snuffies a free and legal shot at an officer.  I've been hit hard three times already, but only twice by CGBB players.  I think one of my own troops took a free shot for the hell of it.  That's okay; I've gotten in several good licks myself.  It's all clean fun...well, fun.

It's half-time and we're taking a short break.  I think, oh man, the day's almost over and no Camp David detail this weekend.  I'm going to see Gabrielle tonight, as well as tomorrow and Sunday.  We're goin' to have a ball.  Just the two of us. 

 I'm brought back by someone excitedly shouting my name from across the field.  I look and see that our transportation has returned to pick us up here at the athletic field, across the Anacosta River from the Navy Yard and our barracks.  I think, wonder why?  It's early.

 I see a sedan with the bus, and a trooper is barreling across the field towards me.  He's the source of the hollering.  He comes to a sliding halt in front of me, salutes and says, "Lieutenant Quinn, sir, I've been told to tell you that you and all the troops are to return to Guard Company immediately.  There's an emergency, sir."

"Okay, Lance Corporal Burke.  Calm down, catch your breath."  I know him from the guard unit at The Barracks proper.  He's one of the front gate sentries, and sharp.  "Now then, what's the emergency?"

"Sir, the President is dead!"

"What?  Our President?"

"Sir, yes, sir.  President Kennedy, sir.  Just a little while ago, in Dallas, Texas, sir.  He was shot."

"Shot!  Oh Jesus!"  I blow out a deep breath, and then continue. "What the hell hap...Okay, okay.  I'll get the troops rounded up and we'll be back in a jiffy.  Go ahead, and tell Captain Kemp I'm on my way."

"Yes, sir."

As Burke leaves, I turn to Gunnery Sergeant Elms, the DT Platoon Sergeant, who has come up to see what's going on.  I say, "Gunny.  Get everyone loaded on the bus.  ASAP.  President Kennedy has been shot.  He's dead.  My bet is we will have to get the Death Watch troops ready to go quicker than a duck on a June bug."

"Aye aye, sir."

"And, Gunny, this means both units.  The Body Bearer guys, along with our Drill Team troops, will be the first ones going out.  Get 'em back, and ready to go."