I'm former L/Cpl Jack Gleason, Plt. 226, PI 1963 - 1967.
I just thought you would appreciate a good laugh. These are future recruits. We live in Flippin, AR, and we don't get that much snow. So, being a Marine veteran I improvised. We had some snow, a flag pole, and 4 great volunteers.
Left to Right - Boot Ocean Anitoni, Boot None Anitoni, Boot Malu Anitoni, and Boot Sean Anitoni.
Jack Gleason, LCpl, '63-'67
Get this shirt for your Devil Pup at:
Devil Dog's Family Member Youth Boys Custom Gray T-Shirt
Have It All
For those guys interested, here are some of the guns we took from the VC and NVA. As you can see there is an AK47, then my M14, a Greasegun and two M 16's. With the exception of my M14 all these guns were captured from the enemy.
In those days the AR15/M16 was considered one of newest Weapons in the US Arsenal, this was the first time it was used in Combat. The enemy always liked to get American Weapons because American Fighting men, when a battle is over will drop the magazine and reload with as full mag.
The enemy picks up dropped rounds of ammunition, and any other equipment he finds, broken rifles, dented magazines and ammunition, everything. He'll put it to use to kill and we kept dropping what we didn't need or want.
Half eaten "C" rations filled many an enemy stomach and they went on fighting, always on the lookout for more supplies from the Americans who seemed to have it all. We even found packages of cigarettes on the enemy, some guy dropped a package of cigarettes because they were old and had spots on them, H-ll, the enemy didn't have the resupply program we had and a cigarette was a cigarette.
But don't think this is a Modern problem, on the pacific Islands during World War II, enemy soldiers left behind and hiding out from the Americans, found disliked "K" rations and any other rations, food is food to a starving man regardless of race. How many times have you chucked a can of beans and rice or some other chow cause it wasn't a food you liked.
GySgt. F. L. Rousseau, USMC retired
To Hear Silence
It took over 4 years and thousands of hour digging through old files on Vietnam to write the book called "To Hear Silence". Although it's the day to day and often minute to minute account if one Marine battery's experience in support of an infantry unit, everyone who ever served in Vietnam will be able to identify with it. This book traces Charlie Battery 1/13 and the 3rd Battalion 26 Marines from the time they formed up at Camp Horno, CA until the original members left Khe Sanh and returned home in October 1967.
The paperback form can be found at "To Hear Silence".
Tinnitus, Hearing Loss, and Deafness
Re Jerry D's hearing problems. Always use the VFW, American Legion or DAV to process your claim. Anyone trying to deal with them on their own will have a difficult problem. Tinnitus is compensable as is hearing loss. Jerry did not state the noisy conditions he encountered. Combat experience almost always causes hearing problems in the left ear if you are right-handed; opposite ear for left-handed. The back blast noise from using a rifle is the cause; it affects the ear closest to the ammo blast. IED's are guaranteed to cause hearing problems if you survive it. Incoming landing close enough to cause pressure waves can cause deafness, at times busting an ear drum.
DFW Marine Corps Alumni
Proudly announcing their first Marine Corps Ball.
To be held at the Las Colinas Country Club November 15th, 2014. Bar will open at 7:00 PM. The ceremony will begin at 8:00PM, dinner will follow. Marine Veteran and local radio personality, Jason Walker will be our guest MC. Our Guest of Honor will be former Assistant Commandant of the Marine Corps (1998-2000), General (retired) Terrance R. Dake.
Tickets are $100.00 each. Only 200 tickets will be sold. For parties of 8 you can reserve a table by emailing the contact below. Your ticket will include the Birthday Ceremony, dinner, two free drinks and dancing.
We will have a photographer on site for those special pictures, and a special gift for each guest. Uniformed Marines will provide the ceremonial activities, youngest and oldest Marines will be honored and will take part in the cutting of the cake.
This will be a black tie affair so break out those tuxedoes pin on that National Defense Medal and come on out and enjoy a special night with Marines and Marine Veterans of the DFW area.
Contact: Joe Silva
Please make checks out to: DFW Marine Corps Alumni
Indigenous To Parris Island
Just read the last newsletter and laughed at some of the interesting punishments. Are there any Parris Island graduates out there who ever had to bury a sand flea?
I did. I was one of the dumbazses of platoon 2063 in the summer of 1981 who tried to sneak a smack at one of those vicious little bast-rds and as can be expected, my movement, while discreet in my opinion, was easily detected by the experienced eye of Sgt. Ishmail. It was one of your more typical, hot, steamy Parris Island days and even though it was early evening, we were still covered in sweat and little bast-rds just seemed to be drawn to us like catnip to a cat. Little did I know that it's easy to detect the slightest movement of one turd among 72 turds all in a tight, four column formation. Ishmail spotted me instantly and was on me like flies on sh-t. He proceeded to inform me that sand fleas were indigenous to Parris Island and my filthy azs was not and as such, the sand flea deserved a proper burial.
We were in formation just outside the Second Battalion chow hall ready to be marched back to the barracks after evening chow. I was instructed to "find" the sand flea, dig a hole and bury him and then I had to stand over him and "play" taps through my closed, encircled hand over my mouth (forming a bugle). First of all for all you Pendleton Marines (I say this in jest), the flea, before you smash it with the smack, is nearly microscopic. And then, what are the chances that you will find him anyway? So there is Ishmail hovering over me yelling, "all right you doggone filthy aszed motherf--ker, you better had find that sand flea and that hole had better be proper depth!" Ishmail had to be laughing all over himself as he was screaming at me. First of all I was already scared sh-tless, but what the h-ll was the proper grave depth for a sand flea?
Of course I could not find it, but I was smart enough not to tell Ishmail that. I pretended to find the flea and place it in the 1" hole I had scrapped away with my index finger. I backfilled the grave and popped up to the position of attention with my feet at a 45 degree angle and my thumbs at my trouser seams. And then I played taps. No one dared to laugh at me. Ishmail threatened to cut my nuts off and feed them to the gators behind the b-tts at the rifle range if he ever caught me harming one of "his" sand fleas. After all, sand fleas were born on Parris Island and therefore had a right to be there. I, on the other hand was an ignorant, disgusting piece of human dung and had no right to infest "his" Marine Corps!
Semper Fi to all my brother and sister Marines and God Bless all those fighting for our freedom!!
Cpl â€“ 0331
Lima 3/8, Weapons Platoon
Funny Things Happened
Dear Sgt. Grit,
One day at my first duty station, a new experience for me! Some people ignored me, some shook my hand and seemed disinterested, and a few seemed sincere to meet the FNG in the outfit. The next morning as we got to start the new day - I saw the routine in the squad bay. We had a list of details we were assigned to. Some did not give a sh-t, and went to chow and to their daily assignment. The barracks NCO had a Few Good Men who did the details. If you took pride in your work - the detail got done by teamwork. I found out who was reliable and trustworthy and who was worthless real fast.
We had the ones who never had smokes - and bummed cigarettes all the time. The squad bay people knew how to tell the weasels to get lost! One day on a Friday afternoon - one guy, a Private in dress blues - told us he was going to meet his girl half way in Washington, D.C. for a few days? He left and a few of the guys started laughing behind his back. I was naive but something on his uniform looked wrong? He had a rifle expert and pistol expert badges - and a purple heart - he was out of boot camp a month or so before me - and had been at this station for a few weeks? At work his eyesight was poor - with glasses - soo how does he fire rifle and pistol expert - and how does this Sh-tbird get a purple heart? Welcome to the real clowns that screw up the Corps. This loser had no friends - sat at chow alone - most of the guys had nothing to do with him after work either.
We had a few loners and strange people around us. The drunks who went to the Club every night and came back ripped - how they got up each day and went to work was a mystery. We had the bullies who wanted to push the weaker around - and we had the thieves - who stole behind our backs! But we had for the most part a great bunch of Marines who helped each other and worked together for the most part.
Some Friday's at 3 or 4 in the afternoon - some Marines got antsy as they wanted to split for various reasons - and some of us get permission from the Gunny or Lt. to finish their work - so they could go - You took care of each other and built friendships - some lasted after you got out. You lost touch - especially in the 1960's - no internet - no e-mails - no cell phones?
What I am trying to say is that funny things happened back then - aboard ship I smoked Paxton cigarettes - not because they were fine smokes - Paxton came in a plastic pack - and walking on deck in the misty sprays of the waves the smokes were always dry.
On another note that I am thankful for Sgt. Grit and the great products they offer us - and the clincher to this story. Found a friend from New York City at Cherry Point - we were all wise guys to a point - and sometimes the guys from the South hung out together - as well as the guys from the North - or the Westerners - or the Baptists or Catholics, etc. BUT the point is we were all Marines - we had each other's back - even if we did not really care for someone - you took care of your own - because he was a Marine just like you!
One guy named Gary was a good friend - and we lost touch - I never knew what happened to him from 1965 - he disappeared - no Facebook back then either? I found out about Sgt. Grit from a Marine Corps League older member - who I knew from a Fraternal Order who was active in both units. I wrote to Sgt. Grit for a t-shirt - found out about the newsletter - and wrote an article - Lo and Behold - Gary sees the article - contacts Sgt. Grit - Sgt. Grit e-mails me with his e-mail address - and we are in contact ever since.
I read about things I forgot - I read about things that bring back memories. And I even got a phone call many years ago from a Marine who came across my name in a New York City phone book many years ago - and called about 10 Bruce Bender's 'til he found me. Met him and his wife in Atlantic City and after 10 to 15 years he is not a person to stay in touch - but found my old Gunny - living in Georgia - and a few others as well.
Sgt. Grit is great - because he gives us a place to go - we hear that we all have problems and react differently in certain situations.
I wear my Sgt. Grit many lapel pins and make new friends all the time - at the bank today the teller told me her son was a Marine! I am stop all the time and wear all my lapel pins everywhere as I am proud of what I was - and what I am - and the experiences I had that made me a better person.
Vietnam Era Marine
P.S. My old high school is now trying to do something for graduated veterans by erecting shade trees and benches with a plaque to those who served their Country!
Thought you might be humbled by my daughters tat. It's not nice to p-ss off Marine daughters. check out her tattoo.
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Recently I was set up at a local flea market attempting to make a few bucks.
A gentleman came up with his grandson and was wearing a Marine cap. So, naturally I thought that he had served in our beloved Corps. Things turned strange though when I asked what his MOS was. He proceeded to tell me that it was F-4. I questioned this saying I had not heard of that MOS before. Informed him that mine was 2111, small arms repairman. He then said that his equaled the rank of Gunny. I said to myself this is stranger indeed. Then he went on to say that around 2009 the Corps had changed MOS to mean rank. I didn't press him any further on this as I didn't want to cause problems in front of his grandson.
Has anyone else heard of this before? Sounds to me like this guy is a "wannabe" and has no idea what he is talking about. By the way thanks for the Agent Orange: Sprayed and Betrayed t-shirt. It looks great. I took it to a local shop and had Marine Barracks Panama 1970 - 1971 printed on it so that others will know where I was sprayed and betrayed.
1968 - 1975
A Battle Won By Handshakes
My name is Lucas Dyer (SSgt USMC) and I have recently had my book, A Battle Won By Handshakes, published. This is about my combat experience as a small unit leader and platoon commander and how my company, ACo 1/5 achieved great success in Afghanistan by utilizing Counter Insurgency Operations (COIN) and doing the right thing. There are not that many success stories from Afghanistan, but my unit was one of the few. I take a doctrinal approach to explaining how the tactical, operational, and strategic levels of war where utilized as we changed a village and their people. Since it's release it has become the number 1 best seller on my publishers website.
My book can be found online at "A Battle Won By Handshakes".
Marine Ink Of The Week
Well 45 years in the making. On the right arm, so fouled anchor pointing forward/inboard. Doing some bucket list check-offs. Served as an Aviation Ordnanceman, with VMFA-542, VMFA-323 (both F-4 Phantom Squadrons), H&MS 11 (Mark 4 20MM Gun Shop Rebuild/Reload), MABS-32 (Bomb Dump) at DaNang and Chu Lai 1966-1967, 1969-1970. Did a lot of two man hand loading of Mark 81 (250) Snakeyes and four man hand loading of Mark 82 (500) Snakeyes. That was our Air Wing form of "Grunt". Had to give the Snakeye a place in my design. Also, included my "old" Corps Serial Number and MOS at the bottom. Hope you enjoy it.
Staff Sergeant on exit (1964â€”1974)
You May Be A Vietnam Veteran If...
Your boss's first name was his rank.
Your first aerobics class was a mandatory P.T. formation.
Your first portable boom-box radio was the AN/PRC-25.
Your first government-approved diet plan was cold C-rations.
You're an Auzzie and your first taste of turkey came from a ration pack.
Your first gastronomic adventure was a "Noggie Roll" with Nuoc-Mam sauce.
Your first occasion to wear formal attire was a parade.
Your first custom-made personalized jewelry was dog-tags.
You have never forgotten your serial number.
You can't stand sand or red mud between your toes.
You know you can't make a local call on a "p-ss-a-phone".
You still roll your sleeves down at night.
You know that intestinal fortitude isn't a health-food supplement.
You know that the military invented "one size fits all."
You know that "dust-off" is not a miraculous cleaning solvent.
You know that an "air-burst" has nothing to do with comical farts.
You know that "white mice" were the host constabulary.
You know that a Sky Pilot is a Soldier in the God Squad.
You know that MPC is legitimate "funny money".
You know that a military "Tattoo" is more than just skin art.
You know the Starlight Scope has nothing to do with astronomy.
You know the difference between rifles and guns.
You know that "Four-Deuce" is not a dice game.
You know that "Deuce-and-a-Half" is not a card game.
You know the difference between "Repeat" and "Say Again."
You know that "Military Intelligence" is a contradiction in terms.
You know that a "Free-Fire Zone" was not the designated smoking area.
You know a walk through the "green" isn't a walk across the top paddock.
You know that "Rolling Thunder" is more than an electrical storm.
You know that "Friendly Fire," isn't.
You know that "Mission Impossible" was much more than a TV show.
You learned locals saying "Be Nice" meant many different things.
You learned locals saying "Buy Me One Saigon Tea" meant money for nookie.
You learned locals saying "Number Ten" meant something really bad.
You learned locals saying "Short Time" meant many different things.
You discovered the M-60 isn't a freeway in the United Kingdom.
You discovered that "Rock 'N Roll" could be belt-fed.
You believe troops infected with incurable VD are still held as MIA.
You thought "We Gotta Get Outta This Place" was the new national anthem.
You thought the "Freedom Bird" was mythical... until you boarded.
You'd rather sit on, than wear, your Flak Jacket. Also makes a good pillow.
You still don't wear underwear on hot, summer days.
You believe Woodstock was a side-show.
You still remember taking your salt tablets daily and the horrendous after-taste of Malaria pills.
Centipedes!... What can I say?
Strange "varmints" and snakes!
You know that nine million men served in the military during the Vietnam war, three million of whom went to the Vietnam theater (and their desertion rate was less than Soldiers and Marines in WW II).
You know that 73 percent of those who died in French Indo-China were American volunteers.
You know that French Indo-China was 12,000 miles away from America and America's Marines and Soldiers performed with a tenacity and quality that may never be truly understood. (Hanoi has admitted that 1.4 million of its soldiers died on the battlefield, compared to 58,000 total U.S. dead.)
You know that frequently the reward for a young man's having gone through the trauma of combat was to be greeted at home by his fellow citizens and peers with studied indifference or outright hostility.
You know that Marines and Soldiers faced the issues of war and possible death, and then weighed those concerns against obligations to their country and suffered loneliness, disease, and wounds with an often contagious illnesses.
For you, combat is an unpredictable and inexact environment, and you remember moving through the boiling heat with 60 pounds of weapons and gear, causing a typical Marine or Soldier to drop 20 percent of his body weight while in the bush.
You know that mud-filled, regimental, combat bases like An Hoa were not a "fun" places where Marines joked about "legendary" giant rats like "Big Al."
You remember "Rockets, Rockets, Rockets!" was not about a 4th of July fireworks celebration.
You are still amazed, that Marines and Soldiers, barely out of high school, were called up from the cities and the farms to do their year in H-ll and then returned without real complaint.
You are still astounded at the willingness of these Marines and Soldiers to risk their lives to save other Marines and Soldiers in peril.
You believe these Marines and Soldiers were some of the finest people you have ever known.
You know that one finds in them very little bitterness about the war in which they fought. The most common regret, almost to a man, is that they were not able to do more â€“ for each other and for the people they came to help.
The DISBURSING CHIEF
(Vol #8, #2)
I said "Yes, we have - but it will not happen until after next March - when I get my promotion to S/Sgt. (There had been a regulation that enlisted personnel could not marry until they had reached that rank. It was no longer in effect. This was my own decision.) Mary's mother then said "Well, this was good news anyway - and George and I agree that if Mary chooses to get married we know of nobody else that we would rather see as her husband - and we would like for you two to go to our summer home with us on the 19th of the month." I said "I would love to go but my leave ends that weekend and I must return to Camp Lejeune." But then I thought of something, "I can go back to base tomorrow, turn in my leave papers and take my leave starting that weekend." They all seemed thrilled at this idea - especially Mary. That's what I did. I decided to take all 30 days of my advance leave starting on the 19th - and I was back home to leave with them on that date. We headed for Ocean City (NJ) early on the 19th - in their car. Mary's mother was sitting in the front - sort of sideways - and said to me "If Mary chooses to get married that's okay with us but George and I had sort of wished that she would go to college first." This was a surprise to me and I said "I can understand your wishes - but that is a decision that Mary will have to make. I will not push her one way or the other. I might point out that I am presently taking two college level courses through the Marine Corps Institute (The predecessor to the Marine Corps College/University) I am taking courses in Calculus and Architecture." She went on "You won't see much of us in O.C. We have many friends down there and will be staying with them quite often. You two will have the house to yourselves most of the time."
Back in 1949 my parents had sold the farm. It had not been used since 1945 and developers had made many offers to purchase it - strictly for the land. Our little town of Medford (Pop. 22,000) was rapidly becoming a 'bedroom community' for people working in Camden (RCA and Campbells) and Philadelphia. My Dad had said "If they ever meet my price of $1 per square foot (10.654 acres) I'll sell." Well, someone did offer $464,088 for the property that he had paid $8,400 for in 1939. He had made many improvements - and a tremendous profit. They bought a new 'Rocket Oldsmobile' and went on an extended vacation around the United States. I mention this because Mary had told her Dad that I was staying at the Cedar Lodge in Moorestown - right across from her father's office - when up north. George held a key up in front of me and said "I want you to take this - it is for the front door - you can look at it as a key to your own home. Now, when you bring Mary home, you can stay here and eliminate unnecessary travel and expense." He went on "If Phil (Mary's brother) is on the sofa just go up and jump in with Mary. I am sure she won't mind - will you?" Mary's mother asked "George, why do you say such things?" He started laughing out loud. But Mary said "No, I wouldn't mind at all."
'til next week. The old, real old, real, real old (85) Master Gunny.
Harold T. Freas, Sr.
DF-2 (Sounds High-Tech)
The South and Southwest Sides of Chicago seem to be in the news much of late, and Detroit is close behind. However, in the early '70s... things weren't all that different. Our little USMCR ordnance maintenance platoon out in the wilds of western Illinois, (Moline) located on the south bank of the Mississippi, was in possession of two M-40 106MM Recoilless Rifles that belonged to H&S 1/24. (the 106 really wasn't... it was 105MM, but to avoid confusion with 105MM howitzer ammunition, it was officially listed as '106MM'). The reason we had them in for 'repair' was that the breech rings were pretty soundly carbonized into place. There had been a firing exercise at some point in the past, and for whatever reason, the breech rings had not been unscrewed from the chamber and scrubbed free of carbon residue. Considering that Isaac Newton had got around to issuing his third law, which meant that half of the propellant gases produced by the rather substantial cartridge exited the rifle via the vents incorporated in the breech ring (the other half went out the tube while propelling the round down-range), this meant a LOT of carbon residue. When fresh, it was a simple matter to remove a few cap screws, and unthread the breech ring so it and the chamber threads could be scrubbed clean. If left in place too long, the stuff set up. The danger of using too much leverage to move the ring was that it was possible to change the chamber to bore dimension, which could make the weapon leap forward when fired (don't see how you could call that "RE-coil", but it could ruin a crew's whole day. We had, had the things propped up against the armory wall, with the breeches submerged in half-drums filled with DF-2 (sounds high-tech, but it's diesel fuel, #2 grade) for a couple of months, trying periodically to get the things un-screwed, with no luck. Then we got a phone call from the owning unit, wanting to know how soon they could get their 106's back, as they had an up-coming weekend FIREX. Reservists didn't get very many opportunities to go live fire in those days, so this was a BFD. Although there is an old saying amongst fitshifters (mechanics)... "if it sticks, force it... if it breaks, it needed fixin' anyway"... we were reluctant to resort to brute force, thinking that given enough time, the DF would penetrate and loosen things a bit.
Our unit just happened to own a M-40 for armorer training purposes... and by dint of a few phone calls, it was arranged to borrow one more from the Chicago unit... and for some reason, there were also two M-60 machine guns, freshly repaired, that had to go back to the Detroit unit. While we had a number of tactical vehicles, ranging from a M-151 jeep up to a M123 10-ton semi- tractor, we also had a 1969 9-passenger Ford station wagon... and a 106 will fit between the tailgate and the front windshield of a 1969 Ford Station wagon... soooooo... one Mustang Captain, two machine guns, and one recoilless rifle drove from Moline to Chicago... up Cicero avenue to either Foster or Dempster (I forget... wherever the Reserve unit was at the time), loaded yet one more, and proceeded on to Detroit and down Livernois Avenue to the Armory... without either a side arm... or any ammo for the M-60s. My first clue was that I seemed to encounter a police car about every other block on Cicero... and every car had two officers in it... and all street side shops had bars on the windows...
The Detroit unit got to go to the range that weekend... where they managed to start a brush fire with their second round, and spent most of the rest of the drill weekend fighting it... gonna have to look up the total mileage sometime... did the whole round trip non-stop except for fuel stops. We did eventually get the breech rings out, after we acquired a third/fourth echelon tool that clamped the barrel and chamber together... and a big lever... I have a 106 TP (Training Practice) round in my shop... which I got from a sea-going Marine... who was in the ship's MarDet when Hornet (CV-12) recovered the first moon astronauts... 'nother story
PLEASE tell Sgt. Grit how I was so pleased with the fast service and really needed it. You see I had a rotator cuff operation last Friday and have to wear a gadget to hold my arm in. It is hard to use a belt and to fasten it, so the suspenders do a great job. I ordered these BEFORE I knew of the operation, well not before but knew it was coming. I am 82 now and don't get around so good. I really enjoy the catalog.
Roy A. Moyers, Jr. 1260xxx and did not look it up either.
U.S. Naval School, Underwater Swimmers, Seeking all Divers trained here from Recon and Force Recon, see (www.uwss.org) May 14th thru 17th, location: U.S. Naval Support Activity, Panama City, Florida.
For more details, Please contact Aaron Farrior, United States Air Force, Para Rescue, Reunion Chairman, Fort Walton Beach, Florida at 850-240-7417 or email: bare4[at]cox.net.
We want to meet once again our U.S. Marine Graduates.
Gerry A. Flowers, USMC 0311 / 8654 1968-1974
"We fight not for glory, nor for riches, nor for honour, but only and alone for Freedom, which no good man lays down but with his life."
--Declaration of Arbroath, Scotland, 1320
"In the end more than they wanted freedom, they wanted security. When the Athenians finally wanted not to give to society but for society to give to them, when the freedom they wished for was freedom from responsibility, then Athens ceased to be free."
"A Marine is a Marine. I set that policy two weeks ago. There's no such thing as a former Marine. You're a Marine, just in a different uniform and you're in a different phase of your life. But you'll always be a Marine because you went to MCRD Parris Island, MCRD San Diego or the hills of Quantico and Camp Pendleton. Again, there's no such thing as a former Marine."
--General James F. Amos, 35th Commandant of the Marine Corps
"You can take a man out of the Marine Corps; you will never take the Marine Corps out of the man."
"I come in peace. I didn't bring artillery. But I am pleading with you with tears in my eyes: If you f-ck with me, I'll kill you all."
--Marine General James Mattis, to Iraqi tribal leaders
"There are only two kinds of people that understand Marines: Marines and the enemy. Everyone else has a second-hand opinion."
--Gen. William Thornson, U.S. Army
"Road Guards Out!"
"Didn't I tell you people you had your last laugh the first time you laid eyes on me?"
"Drop it... and you die by squat thrusts!"
Fair winds and following seas.