The Proud. The Few. Always a fit

Shame on me for not seeing the big picture a lot sooner. As a coach of a 12-yearold baseball team, Jud Howard was a kid who could part the clouds on a bad day.

There was an assistant coach so infuriating he could’ve made any preacher cuss like a Marine. With a comment and some encouragement, Jud offered perspective that was wise beyond his years. Sitting on a bucket between innings, often it was difficult for me to appreciate who was doing the coaching.

MIKE TASOS Columnist

Of course, without exception, I always walked away giggling at the perspective of a 6th-grader well on his way to being able to invent curse words that were both creative and appropriate. It’s also germane that Jud could do a spoton imitation of me as a third-base coach, complete with signs, arm-waving and facial expressions.

No fear from a 12-year-old. It was a preview of what would be his life five years later. Tack on another five years and Jud, last week, left California and his life as Sgt. Howard USMC, behind. Prior to hopping on a bus and heading for legendary Parris Island in South Carolina, I joined The Order of The Restless Nights (Jon Howard, Cheech Milano and Papa Kenny Cagle) sat around his dad’s pool, smoking cigars and trying to find the words to express our feelings.

We guys aren’t the best at that type of thing, so we wished him the best, handed him a little spending money and saw him off. Kenny has since died. Rest assured he would have been about to pop when Jud came home.

It’s hard to fathom the terror going through Jud’s mind on that bus ride headed for the low country swamps. A stop at a gas station before passing through the base gates resulted in his last purchase for a while.

“I drank a Yoo-Hoo. Don’t know why, but that’s what I wanted.”

He probably would have opted for something stronger, had Jud known what awaited him. And the fact that he was 17 and about to meet his drill instructor precluded any cutting up.

We’ve all seen the movies about what occurs when you meet your drill instructor for the first time. It was sobering seeing his boss, inside the gates, arms crossed and looking like he was in the foulest of moods. From that moment on, until it got better, the instructors wreaked havoc on the recruits. The molding into Marines started at that moment.

“They broke us down, then built us up. We were the lowest scum on earth. They stripped us down. They knew what they were doing. It was controlled chaos.”

After three months, he had become a Marine. He had accomplished something most couldn’t survive, with the peace of mind that he would never have to go through it again. But it didn’t stop there.

After distinguishing himself while going through infantry school, Jud was chosen as a member of FAST (Fleet Antiterror Strike Team), an elite unit that is deployed whenever things will probably get messy.

In deference to Jud as he tried to decompress from his five-year hitch, we didn’t talk much about specific missions, except for being on a ship some- where “over there,” with Jud as a leader of 18 teammates who were ready to hit the ground and fight.

Luckily there was no Chinese invasion, but Jud was ready. He had trained his team to be outstanding.

“It’s like football, training all day like it’s a scrimmage. Being the first Marines on the ground was going to be like the Super Bowl.”

It was heartwarming to read on Facebook the comments from the men who Jud led. He was like a father figure to men some 10 years his senior. He thought about staying in but says “The juice wasn’t worth the squeeze.”

His dad is thrilled to have Jud home. No more wondering what part of the world his son is in. Not much traveling when you embark on a career as an Atlanta fire inspector.

As a youth coach, you want to be a hero to your players. Jud is now my hero. “The Few. The Proud” has never been more appropriate.

Mike Tasos has lived in Forsyth County for more than 30 years. He’s an American by birth and considers himself a Southerner by the grace of God. He can be reached at miketasos55@gmail.com.