Page 33 - 100 Hours to Destiny

The Knife Hand, it is a tradition that senior Marines, on
occasion, will utilize when explaining a directive
especially one of a more serious nature. Here Rock
Pollard is placing a perfect example in the face of
Marcus Mitchell, driver of American Hero.

Before I could even bring the binoculars from my eyes, my heart
started pounding as I observed Captain Pollard pointing… directly at me. I
slowly lowered the binoculars down to my waist and said, “Oh shit!”. I had to
get down from the logistics vehicle, where I had been for the last 45 minutes.
It was probably one of the most incredible times in my USMC tenure, a time
when I was able to observe Marines preparing for the ultimate combat
showdown. I was able to get a glance into the world of every line unit LAV-25
crew in action, discussing matters pertaining to current events… But now I
had bigger problems.
Scrambling down from the logistics vehicle was an art form, it was a
near acrobatic phenomenon. The logistics vehicle was more or less like a
giant truck, an eight-wheeled amphibious empty cavity of shielded transport
capability. My anxiety built as I knew Captain Pollard and the 1Sgt were
making their way over. As sure as the sun will rise in the East and set in the
West, Captain Pollard was on the march, coming my way. Would it be me
that receives the knife hand, was I just moments away from a confrontation
with the man himself? Shortly, would I be standing tall in front of “the man?”
No doubt I felt like a fried egg in a cast-iron skillet facing a pepper shaker
that someone had just removed the lid.
I was standing on the south side of the logistics vehicle when
suddenly I heard the 1Sgt pipe off, “Witcher, front and center.” The trap was
set, there was no way out, so grabbing my composure I calmly stepped