Military Training at the Whistler, Hilton

Curious, I watched the pairs of men head out of the conference rooms of Whistler's Hilton, hauling out heavy loads of equipment, all the while trying to dodge Thomas as he weaved in and out of their hall space. Combat boots, desert camo, dog tags haphazardly displayed as they struggled with their loads. Thankfully, one particularly large load missed Thomas as he fell prostrate across the middle of the hallway, spread eagle, directly in their way. I wanted to hide in the gigantic fireplace directly behind me and pretend he wasn't my son, but I had already been designated the "mom" by these suspicious men, so hiding was no longer an option. With an embarrassed smile and a quick look towards my young showoff, I hauled his skinny butt off the floor and hurried for a more isolated area in which to wait out John's check-in process. Not to be. Thomas seemed to enjoy the attention these men paid to him and hurried back to get more chuckles, smiles and chats. It didn't seem to matter that some of them probably outweighed him by two hundred pounds, had intimate knowledge of machine gun and who knows how many other big, huge, outlandish weaponry. I wished that he could somehow understand the phrase, "nothing to see here, nothing to see here" and we could just move on.
The next day, after various other morning activities, Thomas and John found themselves down at the pool again. When I walked out, I quickly scanned the pool area. You couldn't miss Thomas. He was the blond bomber hurling himself again and again into the pool. The guy sitting beside me, deeply involved in reading Kite Runner ( a dark tale from Afghanistan) couldn't help but watch and laugh out loud watching Thomas. Dog tags. Two men lounging, drinking...also laughing and commenting on the antics of Thomas. Dog tags. Four guys in the pool, thoroughly engaged in critique of some sort of military training (yes, I was listening in while I rocked Cooper in my arms), mostly heavily tattooed, couldn't help but laugh and watch as Thomas blew right past them, alternating between dive bombing and belly flopping beside them. Dog tags. I thought that he might just be a bit intimated by Big Dude With Lots of Body Ink and a big green lizard crawling (tattoo) up and across his massive shoulder. Nope! Not Thomas. Just continued to hurl himself around in the pool.



After Thomas poked one of them with the noodle in the small hot tub, they started to talk to John. They mentioned they were from all over the country, that they were military. I walked over, at this point very curious. A million questions were rolling through my head. I asked them where they were based and mentioned seeing the placard by the conference room announcing US Marine Corp and an agenda about high mountain training operations. There wasn't a lot of time, as Thomas was in and out of the hot tub and pool, but they seemed happy to be at a Hilton for training and commented that my son must keep me very busy. Very nice, nothing flashy except for a lot of tattoos. Big Dude seemed like the funny guy of the bunch. Smart Dude seemed to be the obvious leader, at times describing technique and other training lingo to a couple of other guys who seemed very young and skinny (must be new to the program, although prerequisite tattoos were in place). One of them asked how to swim under water when your hands are tied behind your back. I'm not sure which surprised me more. The fact that he really needed to know that skill or watching the training guy expertly display this skill in front of me. (By the way, if you ever find yourself tied up trying to get away in deep water, I can show you what to do!)
Today, I found time to look up the town they said they are based in. Still wishing that I could have asked them all the questions that one might have if you found yourself sitting in an area with a bunch of Marines, I wanted to at least know where the town is. I had to chuckle at what I found.
Seems that our bunch of Hilton Marines belong to no other than the Marine Corp Mountain Warfare Training Center in the corps most remote and isolated post! Hmmmmmm.... If you don't hear from me again, you'll know that Someone flagged my Yahoo search and I've been taken away and silenced.