Coronavirus got you scared to touch your face? Try being a Parris Island Marine recruit
Have you tried yet to quit touching your face?
It’s one of the national responses to avoiding the coronavirus. They’re telling us not to put our germy hands on our faces, particularly the mouth, eyes and nose.
Oh, that’s easy, I thought.
Not so. For the first time, I’m now conscious of how often I touch my face. Trying to stop has become an obsession. I touch my face so often I’m surprised my head has not been molded into a blob, like Play-Doh.
And I know from reading a column in our paper Wednesday by Mary Schmich of the Chicago Tribune that I’m not alone. The headline was: “Hey, all you face-touchers — just stop!”
That’s apparently the answer. Go cold turkey. Fear the consequences. And maybe cry.
The South Carolina Lowcountry has its own endearing way to mold the few, the proud, the Marines. And everyone who has come through Parris Island knows it: the sand gnat.
These invisible, biting aggravations are known to locals as no-see-ums. The Marines call them “micro vampires.”
Recruits have to stand in formation for long periods of time with sand gnats crawling all over their faces, in their eyes, ears and nose. And they cannot slap them. They cannot touch their faces.
In battle, such a selfish move could give away their location, and they could be killed.
The sand gnats are as legendary on Parris Island as the drill instructors.
In fact, a sand gnat burial played a role in the 1957 movie about Parris Island starring Jack Webb: “The D.I.”
And, just like the movie, the DI’s are known to protect the rights of the sand gnat. They have to eat, too, a swatting recruit is told.
In a Leatherneck.com message board discussion of sand gnats, one Parris Island survivor said, “Don’t kill one or they will have you find him and have a funeral for the damn thing. I laughed when they said it but after hitting the sand pit I didn’t think it was so funny.”
They say that not only would you have to find the sand gnat, but you might have to bury it. Six feet under. This is when a face-toucher turns into a grave digger, hoping he’s given a shovel and not a spoon.
So what can our coronavirus experts learn from the few and the proud in the Lowcountry?
Bernie Eveler of Lady’s Island was a recruit at Parris Island in 1954.
Yes, he remembers the sand gnats. How did he keep from touching his face?
“We were scared to death of our D.I.,” he said.
Civilians would be amazed at the patience you might find, and the stuff you can withstand, when a drill instructor is in your face.
“My answer is discipline,” said Eveler.
He returned to Parris Island as a drill instructor, and considers himself a proud representative of the old Marines.
“When he wasn’t looking, we were swatting and shooing,” Eveler said. “But you dare not get caught by that man with that hat on.
“Don’t get me wrong. Later on, you love that guy. He’s the best thing that ever happened to me.”
So the headline about coronavirus face-touchers was right: “Just stop!”
GOT THAT, AMERICA?
Do you have questions about the coronavirus? The Island Packet and Beaufort Gazette will get the answers for you. Go to bit.ly/virusBeaufortCounty and let us know what you need to know.
