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Keeping the Honor of our Corps Alive

Is Honor Dead?
by: Robert A. Hall

In mid-June, 1862, the 2nd Kentucky Cavalry, commanded by the famous Confederate raider, John Hunt Morgan, had an unusual visitor.

Union Army Major W. A. Coffey arrived in a carriage to place himself in captivity. Seldom had a man gone to such lengths to surrender. Coffey had been originally captured in May, when Morgan’s men took a train behind Union lines. He emerged from the train with pistols blazing, but was forced to surrender when his ammunition ran out.

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Never Ask a Gunny

NEVER ASK A GUNNY…
Richard Mullins

A young Marine officer was in a serious car accident, but the only visible permanent injury was to both of his ears, which were amputated. Since he wasn't physically impaired he remained in the Marine and eventually rose to the rank of General. He was however, very sensitive about his appearance. One day the General was interviewing three Marines for his personal aide. The first was an aviator, and it was a great interview. At the end of the interview the General asked him, "Do you notice anything different about me?"

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A story about a bus ride in Vietnam

Friendly and Exotic People
Submitted by Dick B

If you’re looking to meet new, friendly and exotic people in an intimate, group setting, I strongly recommend taking a bus in Vietnam. It doesn’t matter where you go or for how long. If this is your sort of adventure, there are some things you need to know. You absolutely must find the bus at its orgination early enough to get a seat. Make sure you make a head call, take on bottled water and charge up your sense of humor. By the time the old rig leaves the city limits it will be SSSRO. That’s standing, sitting and squatting room only. You can be sure every inch of floor real estate will be covered with the feet of those hapless beings who did not have the foresight to find or be able to get to the bus station. Experiencing the bus is one thing, liking the bus is an acquired taste.

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To My Marine

To My Marine
Fiance of LCPL Mattice

It’s been a year now since you first left for the Corps You traveled miles away to the California shores Boot Camp Graduation day was a day to always remember I was there to see you on that day last September You came home for ten days following boot you deserved it, you were now a Marine, no longer a Recruit The ten days went by quicker than any ten before Sitting in the airport together, watching you leave through the terminal door School of Infantry was where you were headed More time apart is something we have always dreaded The Thanksgiving holiday came, I picked you up at the airport Seeing you again was great like always, but we knew this visit was short Once again, back to the airport to say good bye We tried not to be sad this time, you hugged me and said “babe don’t cry”

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Our Protector

My brother, Gary L. Williams had sent to my mother a letter & a poem in 1966 from Vietnam. He was attached to Special Forces, Nha Trang.

I think it speaks for itself as to how our guys felt most days (and nights). We lost him on Oct. 14th, 2001, at the age of 56. He had just started “coming home” to his family. It took him 30 years to finally realize that he was loved and respected. At least he went with that knowledge….

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Men in the Machine

Men in the Machine (The Silent Fallen)
by Rex J. Taylor

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We were all trained by the machine.
The machine trained us all to be able to turn love, caring, & killing on and off like the flipping of a light switch.
One moment we cared about everything.
Then we get an order to flip the light switch
So our innate ability to wreak pain & suffering upon others takes over.
For some of us the pain & suffering of others is like candy it is an addiction.
They crave for more.
The ones that crave the pain & suffering of others often remain in battle they thrive on the carnage.
Never to leave the machine except in death, or retirement even then most do not survive more than a few years after they are out.
Then there are the few that are trained by the machine that have feelings.
They take a good long look around and watch the pain & suffering to their own people & people that are foreign to them.
They see small children & adults lying dead in piles along the road and around bombed out buildings.
This sickens them but they continue to fight for the machine.

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Iraq War Poem – Welcome Home

My brother John is a corporal, soon to be Sergeant, in the United States Marine Corp. John recently returned from a tour of duty in Iraq. It’s been one of the most difficult things my family has ever been through, and we thank God everyday for his safe return. I wrote a poem for John to show him how much we are glad he is home, and I wanted to share it with everyone.

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