Ah, the life of an enlisted Marine: Arrive at every formation 15 minutes prior to being 15 minutes prior, then wait for the commanding officer, who, nine times out of ten, isn’t there, especially for things like field day, weigh-ins, urinalysis, or vehicle inspections.
It’s 0500, the air is brisk, and there’s a light coating of dew on the grass. It’s a beautiful morning for a six-mile run. Wait a minute. Where the hell is half of the platoon? Sleeping in their beds, or in their car, or at sick call, that’s where.