Here are two photos of my MCRD, yellow sweatshirt; circa, Receiving Barracks, February 1964. It's not pretty, but I have saved that thing, despite efforts by deterioration and my wife threatening to toss it out. Many years ago, that ratty sweatshirt almost made it to the garbage can... but I just couldn't let that happen.
And now, for the first time in many, many years, the world is allowed to gaze upon 'history'!
I was going to have my picture taken wearing it, but it's in such fragile condition, I decided not to take the chance of it just completely disintegrating.
Semper Fi and "Long live the yellow sweatshirt!"
MCRD, San Diego, 1964
3rd Bn Huts
I enclosed a photo, don't remember who took it, or where the camera came from, the day we "finished" P.I. 29 December 1958. No graduation, etc. Note the 3rd Bn huts... I'm in the middle of the photo, the handsome, squared away one...
Will always remember hearing Sgt Baggett yelling "347", we screamed the reply "347", then "GET OUTSIDE!"
Bill Mc Dermott
Health to our friends,
Confusion to our enemies.
The Summer Of '69
I arrived at MCRD San Diego June 26th, 1969. It was a pretty hectic day. Got there before sun up, and by the end of the day we were introduced to our permanent Drill Instructors. There were no days spent at receiving barracks as I've read about other recruit arrivals.
I don't recall how many days it was before we were marched out to the back of the depot to take our initial physical fitness test, but we passed by the
obstacle course, and recall a couple of those grey "hearse" ambulances parked next to the course. There were recruits running the course that day.
That must have been the last of them, because once we began the training cycle we never ran the course.
When I flew back to San Diego after boot leave in January 1970, there was a new course built.
Anyone else out there recall this?
This is your brain. This is your brain on drugs.
With Bayonets Fixed - Mike 3/9
Although not officially recorded that I know of, 2nd Platoon, Mike 3/9 (my platoon) in 1966 did a bayonet charge when we were pinned down in the middle of a dry rice paddy behind a short dike and were running low on ammo. We had no attachments, so just had rifles and grenades.
We were on a platoon size daylight combat patrol when we were hit crossing an open area by a bunch of VC in a bamboo tree line about 100 yards away. We had very little cover because the dike was only about 18 inches high. We returned fire with our M14s as well as we could, but when we were down to 2 magazines, Sgt. Shireman, our Right Guide, yelled:
"I'm tired of this sh-t! FIX BAYONETS!"
The word went down the line to fix bayonets, accompanied by a huge cheer.
Then Lt. Rowe, waving his .45 in the air, yelled "CHARGE!"
We jumped up and charged across the open ground (thank God it was dry!) screaming and yelling and firing from the hip.
The VC evidently were shocked. They stopped shooting and immediately withdrew. I don't know if we ever hit any of them, but no one got to bayonet any of the VC since they had hastily retreated when the crazy Marines charged!
It is one memory that lives in my mind in full color to this day!
Then God Spoke
I read the story about the yellow footprints. I arrived at PI on 27 Jul 1970 at 11:30 PM and was greeted by a short SSGT wearing a DI hat. He ordered us off the bus and was told get on the f--king yellow footprints. It was complete dark and we did not see any footprints. Then God spoke with a bright flash of lightning and we saw hundreds of yellow footprints. That was the beginning of my five and half years in the Corps. I was in 2nd Bn, Plt 285.
A Return Visit To PI
I was somewhat dismayed when I saw the picture and read Sgt. B.R. Whipple's letter about the barracks in the Third Battalion's area at Parris Island. When I was billeted in those barracks from July 26th through September 16th of 1966, Plt. 3060, Co. K, for recruit training, I thought those buildings would stand for a century at least. When my Dad went through his training there in Sept of 1930, he was billeted in squad tents, and when I was growing up in the West End Housing Area, off and on from 1947 to 1958 the barracks were Quonset huts and wood framed buildings for mess halls, classrooms, chapels, and admin offices. Got chased out a lot when my little neighborhood buddies and I would play in the areas that were temporarily empty of recruits. Had great fun riding our bicycles in and around those Q-huts. I was planning on a return visit to PI this September to celebrate my fiftieth anniversary of graduating from recruit training, but now I'm not so sure about that. I don't think I would recognize anything there anymore. Oh well, time, the Marine Corps, and recruit training march on. Semper Fi.
Cpl. J.L. Griffin, Jr., USMC
Thank You For My Freedom
I would like to tell you what recently happened to me. I stopped by a McDonalds in Galesburg, IL, for a cup of coffee and breakfast. Upon entering I took off my cover. When I got up to the counter, I placed my order, and put my cover on the counter. The lady who took my order saw the Marine Corps emblem on my cover and asked if I served in the military. I said, "Yes, ma'am. I'm a Marine." Then she asked if I was in during Viet Nam. I answered, "Technically, yes, but I was never in country." She carried on about how poorly we were treated when Marines returned to the US and then she thanked me for my service. I smiled, nodded my head, and thanked her for saying so.
As I was eating, she came to my table and put a $5 bill under my coffee cup and said that breakfast is on her. I was so stunned that all I could say was, "Thank you!" After I finished eating, I went up to the counter to thank her again. She came from behind the counter, gave me a big hug, kissed me on the cheek and said, "Thank you for my Freedom." All I could think of saying, was: "It is my pleasure to serve." I left with a tear in my eye.
I'll turn 75 in May and have been off active duty for over 50-years, but I am still a United States Marine. It never gets old hearing the words, "Thank you for your service." But the best that I have ever heard was, "Thank you for my Freedom."
Jim Brower, USMC
He Called Me FUBAR
I don't Have a P.H.D., but I do have a DD214. My status was 1stMantBn, 1stFSSG, CamPen. My MOS training was at Camp Lejeune, I served a year in Okinawa, I served almost four months in tent city by the DMZ in Korea in the winter of 1982. It was kinda cold, kinda crazy, took a tool box and my friend to work everyday. The toolbox in the truck, my friend in the rack mounted on the top of the fender. Those ROCK MARINES are something. Try to keep a diesel running at 20 below. Honorable Dis. E-4... where is my recognition patch for my COVER? Semper Fi. CPL. FAUBER, the best man I have ever knew (1 Notch down from my Dad) was my Gunny... He called me FUBAR.
A Marine KA-BAR Gear Shift
Now here is something that you can definitely get a good grip on!
Man In The Door
I first heard this poem read by the author several years ago. I was mesmerized and awed back then. And I am no less mesmerized when I hear it again today.
You may recall that we featured the poem in a past issue of the S-Box magazine... but it is way better listening to him speak his words.
Watch Man In The Door
Some Type Of Airplane Story
I'm sure that everyone who ever went through boot camp at MCRD, SDiego has some type of airplane story to tell. Of course, the big thrill of it all is that final approach, over Balboa Park, into Lindburgh Field.
My days at MCRDep, were from April '51 to October '53, then back again June '57 to July '59. When I was first transferred to MCRDep from the Naval Station at 32nd & Harbor Drive, CONVAIR was on the other side of the fence, and at this time the B-36, with 6 pusher props and 4 jet engines, was being tested, constantly. It became very interesting trying to hear the DI's commands over the sound of all those motors being revved up.
After I retired in January 1970, and returned to middle Tennessee, I eventually ran into some of the Marines I had served with, in the local Reserve Company, before Korea blew up. One in particular had mentioned that he was encouraged to re-up into the Regulars, BUT he would have to go to boot camp; imagine a WIA Corporal going through boot camp. He did have some choice words for them, I'm sure!
Semper Fi, y'all!
My Fellow Brother Marines
For Cpl. Bradshaw, I too went through C&E Bn but in 1963 for Radar training. Unlike you, I did not do mess duty. Our classes started 3 days after I arrived. Did the 15 weeks of Basic Electronics, the Radar Fundamentals course for 10 weeks and then the Advanced Ground Radar Repair course. I was promoted then to PFC. I too went to MASS-1 at Cherry Point in Jan. 1964 with an MOS of 5949. Cpl. Bradshaw, were you there at that time? I don't remember too many names of my fellow Marines there. Spent 14 months there before being transferred to MACS-7 for routing to Japan. On the way to Calif. for our flight to Japan, we were notified that we were instead going to Okinawa, as the barracks in Japan caught on fire and we ended up at Camp Schwab.
Then went to Chui Lai, VN. I was transferred to our 25-man detachment at Phu Bai to replace someone heading home. At that time Phu Bai was a small public airport serving Hue. We had weekly VN Airline flights coming in with the cute stewardess and civilians. There was only one squadron of helicopters there that we serviced, plus scouring the air north of us for NVN planes. There was a mountain between us and Danang and their ground radar had a blind spot that we covered for them. We used the Army club at their site there for a while, then a Marine Sgt. punched out an Army Sgt. and we were barred from going there. Could only get on their base to refill our water buffalo. Showers were a 5 gallon jerry can out in the open. Our radar site was situated between the taxiways and the runway. One day we had a Lear jet coming in with 28 pints of blood for the helicopter repairman who was caught by the back wheel of the helicopter and dragged over the asphalt losing most of his skin. They didn't know if the jet could set down on the short runway. It managed to land and take off with no problems. Unfortunately, the Marine repairman died. I think GySgt Rousseau wrote about him in an article previously in Sgt. Grit's newsletter.
Sgt. Grit, thank you for this great newsletter and all my fellow brother Marines for writing in. I especially enjoy reading DDick and GySgt Rousseau's accounts.
Sgt. 1962 - 1966
A Debt Of Gratitude
I've seen or heard very few accounts of Marines who served in Vietnam before 1965. We were there, MABS 16 – Sub Unit 2. Funny it doesn't appear on my DD-214. My service earned me a certificate signed by General William Westmoreland, thanking me for my service in Viet Nam, and awarded the Armed Forces Expeditionary Medal. No Vietnam Service Medal, Vietnam service doesn't show on my DD-214. My only proof is the travel page in my Service Record Book. I appear to be one of the few American Service Members who were Vietnam Veterans before there were Vietnam Veterans. This distinction has kept me from enjoying the hospitality of the Veterans Administration Health System.
Fortunately, during my working career, I worked for a major industrial corporation with benefits to "Live For". I am now retired, with Medicare and the supplimental benefits provided by my former employer, the lack of VA Health System benefits is pretty much a moot-point.
MABS-16, Sub Unit 2 was an Air Base Support Squadron having personnel with various MOS's from various squadrons in the 1st Marine Aircraft Wing in the far east. Our mission was to support and supply the needs of a base of operation for two helicopter squadrons. Water, sanitary facilities, living quarters, communications and a mess hall (tent) with the "best chow" when you were hungry. It may not have compared with the what the Air Force or Army provided, but the food was good when we were hungry. Each week there was 'hot dog day', (real ones, not the Vienna Sausage imposters), a hamburger day, and Sunday Night was steak night. Liquid refreshments with chow were coffee, and three wash tubs, chilled by block ice (from the Ice Plant in Da Nang). One was clear water, the other two contained colored sweet-water. Red, blue, green and yellow were generally the colors we enjoyed.
An inspection by the 1st MAW Wing Commander brought us milk for breakfast, lunch and supper. The real treat was ice cream for dessert. Fine dining was enjoyed by all, Officers and Staff NCOs were served food on glass plates, saucers, cups and real cutlery. Enlisted and Junior NCOs enjoyed the Stainless Steel Mess Trays (Mash TV Show Style), utensils gleaned from Mess Kits, with Canteen Cups for liquid refreshments. We did have hot barrels with oil heaters in them, soapy water for washing and clear hot water for the rinse. When hot, tired and hungry glass plates or stainless trays don't make any difference.
C-Rations were something enjoyed during recruit training at Camp Matthews, Camp Elliot and ITR at Camp Pendleton. I must remember this was 1962, in the warehouses at Camp Pendleton, there were c-rations piled high and deep with printed dates of 1942 adb 1943. These were packaged somewhere around 2 years before I was born. We never saw the dates on those distributed, probably a careful ploy of DIs and Troop Handlers, who gave them out with a smile on their faces (rare of a Recruit DI or the Hard nosed ITR Trainers) did so one individual serving at a time. It was hard to hold a grudge against some one who had your life and graduation in his bare hands. Most of my recruit drill instructors and troop handlers at ITR were living heroes and graduates of Korea. I tried to use their example of realizing when you are hungry 'Give Thanks to the Creator God' and accept food enough to stay hunger pangs to go on another day. Again, C-Rations were only an occasional entree, and not the normal fare, so a quality judgment I'm not qualified to make. Six by 6 Tail-Gate Parties require the same sort of palate. We learned to take your "tail-gate-party" where you find it. I spent all but recruit training and ITR as an 'Air Winger' and that came with some perks, generally, acceptable food to eat, no bloused trousers, and very little living in-on-and-off the ground. I am humbled, in the presence of Marines, past, present and future who have or will live in, on and off the ground to keep our Country free! I salute you and thank you for your bravery and service!
There is more to my story, but I've taken too much space. Again, yester-year's, today's and tomorrow's Marines, we owe you a debt of gratitude and thanks for your service.
Corporal of Marines
1962 – 1966
We Fell Into Formation
In re to Cpl E4 D. McKee and LPC
In the summer of 1955 at NROTC Marine option training at Quantico we were issued sets of khakis, utilities and high top shoes. We had a name for those shoes, but it was not LPCs. I almost want to say that it was boondockers, or boondoggers. But just not sure. They were probably WWII shoes, as some of the rations we ate in the field were. One of the guys lit one of the Lucky Strikes and he barely got a puff before it was gone.
I had heard that the best way to break boots in was to fill them with water over night and then walk them dry the next day. Well that is correct, but no one warned me that it would leave a big stain on the floor in the head. I was really lucky as no one knew who had caused the stain or how, as I had put them in the shower late and got them out at reveille. They were the best fitting shoes I ever had. We were told not to polish the boots but to treat them with neatsfoot oil. We had to purchase the khakis and utilities, but the shoes were ours to keep.
Our DI really liked to have us make a noise when we marched. It was always: "HEELS! HEELS! Dig in those @#$%@# HEELS!" Our platoon won the marching contest. So at our platoon party we gave our DI a set of heels to remember us by.
Incidentally the drill we were doing was not the standard drill but and expermental drill that the Marine Corps was playing that was an old drill where you had 8 man squads. It was complicated and everyone had to know what they did based on where they were in the squad and where the squad was at in the platoon. Later the night of the party when some of our guys were a little high and most of us were asleep, the lights came on. We were rousted out by the Officer of the Day that just happened to be the Officer in charge of the PLC platoon that we had beaten in the competion. We fell into formation, but not everone was there and some of the ones who were nowhere near sober thought this was just a big joke. Our DI kept trying to warn them that it wasn't and to get with it. After about two commands in the eight man drill the OD gave up on that and ordered us to fall into a regular formation. He then drilled us for about another 10 minutes. Even our drunks could do that drill. The OD finally let us go back to bed. Great Memories.
Major USMC (ret.)
Keepin' The Faith
A Marine Corps Christmas Story
The story regards a small group of Marines, haggard and tired from the day's events, sitting at their jungle outpost as night approaches and attempting to find solace after the loss of friends in battle. Ceremony, designed to sooth, and which normally surrounds loss of those close to us is not to be. Mingling among family and friends at the wake, kind words from the preacher, the funeral procession to the cemetery for more kind words and capped off with roast turkey, drinks and even a bit of laughter as the pleasant memories take over. To be able to pay respect. In a proper way, to a friend. None of this was to be. Simply there one moment, with talk of the future and, of course, tales about the incredible babes back in "The World". And gone the next moment, with the unceremonious zipping of a body bag.
For reasons only an infantryman can fathom, the talk turns to the atom. It seems, according to one Marine, that everything as we know it, the wind, the rain, the hub cap off a '55 Chevy, even those of us, are made up of different combinations of only eighty some odd atoms. Each with it's select number of electrons orbiting at various levels above a proton/neutron nucleus.
"Did ya' know?", he adds, "That the ratio of the nearest electron to it's nucleus is greater in distance as compared to the earth from the sun." His friends are impressed. "Not only would you need a million atoms, piled on top of each other, to equal the thickness of a page, but to be able to compress the electrons into the nucleus would also mean that you could fit an entire sky-scraper into the eraser head of a pencil." Now his friends are amazed.
A few moments of silence... "Kinda' makes you wonder about the guys," another Marine suggests. "I mean, if all those millions of bucks were spent to split a single atom, are they really dead? Seems to me that those electrons are still goin' through a spin cycle."
Discussion continues, cigarettes are smoked in cupped hands and, bingo, ARE is founded. Atomic Recovery Employment systems. Until someone pointed out that ---- ------- would be ticked off if recovered with the head of a moose. A brief, and respectful, moment of laughter, and they pondered some more.
To the scientist, there is the atom. To the theologian, there is spirit. To that young group of Marines, having found their solace, there is Comparable Atomic Recovery Employment systems. CARE.
"Geeez! Where Is Thomas Alva Edison When You Need Him..."
Seeming to sum things up, one of the Marine's who has remained silent throughout, simply listening, finally speaks. "You guys are gonna' think me wacko on this one, but when I was a kid my family went on a cross-country trip and at one point I found myself in one of those rare moments in a large family. I was standing alone with my dad. We were at the very lip of the Grand Canyon, gazing at the incredible beauty, when he says to me, completely out of the blue, and we're not talking a religious fanatic here, "Ya' know, sport, I think this is what Jesus Christ had in mind when He said, probably in frustration, "The Kingdom of Heaven is here, now."
Heads nod, cigarettes are snuffed, and talk comes to an end as a Marine glances at his watch, stands with an M-16, and heads off to guard duty.
"Catch you guys later", he concludes.
Infantry Squad Leader
3rd Marine Division
Christmas Day 1968
Just A Few Of The Incredible United States Marines From Hotel Company, 2nd Battalion, 3rd Regiment (2/3) Of The Marine Corps' 3rd Division that I Was Lucky Enough & Fortunate Enough To Have Served With In Vietnam.
Top Row (Left To Right): James Swink, Winterton, Frank Costanzo, Ramon "Poncho" Arroyo, Dave "Sgt Bro" Brombaugh, James Vaughan.
Bottom Row (Left To Right): Al Clark, Joe Williams, Ted Amato, Myself.
To Ramone "Poncho" Arroyo, James "Jimmie" Vaughan, Joe "Willie" Williams & Ted "Theodore" Amato - My Hopes & Prayers Will Remain For The Safety, Happiness & Security Of Your Wonderful Living Spirits As You Await Your Return From Across The Great Divide... I'll Be Standing By With Beaucoup Cases Of Ice-Cold Coors...
Thank You For Your Friendship.
Sorry for the belated report of the passing of my Dad, Charles William (Bill) MARTS, Sgt USMC '44-57'. Dad never pushed us in the direction, but I enlisted '66-'69, and my brother Michael Rolls LCpl '69-'71. That's right, Michael left for PI on the day I arrived home. GOD BLESS ALL OUR MARINE BROTHERS AND SISTERS.
Sent by T. ROLLS, SGT '66-'69, USMC
Lost my best Marine Corps buddy from Pt. Arguello Marine Security Detachment days (1961).
CPL E4 (1958-1962)
Lost And Found
Just wondering where all the recruits/Marines are that spent a few weeks in sunny SD the early part of 1973. I believe we picked up our DI's (or they picked us up) on 2 or 3 Jan 1973.
SDI: Sgt. Schweigler
DI: Sgt. Jameson
JDI: Sgt. Van Bibber
I see a lot of mail from WW2, Korea, VN, and the Desert but not much from the "Cold Warriors" of the mid 70's to 1990 time frame.
Semper Fidelis, ya'll.
SSgt/0848 to 6044
Wondering if any reader was in Plt 96 Oct/Dec 1948.
I ended up at KBay, then PHarbor under then Col L.B. "Chesty" Puller. When the Korean War started I was 0311 A/1/5 BARman with Brigade & Div. Korea Aug/Dec. Then to Santa Margarita Hosp. Camp Pendleton. Last duty Station was Long Beach Naval Base. I became a Civilian as of Aug. 29, '52. Glendale, CA PD and LAPD. Married an Arkie, now living in Franklin, TN. I'm still in touch with my A/1/5 C/O now LtCol John Stevens Rtd. My e-mail rlindsaywalker[at]att[dot]net.
SF, Ray Walker
I am interested in having a 50 year reunion for Platoon 2077 that graduated 1 October 1966. I am Raymond Edwards, SgtMaj USMC Ret. (yep 30 years) We had about 25 from the Dallas area and about the same from Michigan and the rest of us were spread out. We graduated 71, 64 of us had orders to go to Viet Nam. I have researched it and we lost 2 in Viet Nam.
Contact me at:
(318) 481-3595 - Cell if I can hear it.
100 Stephens St.
Boyce, LA 71409
I thought that our brothers might enjoy the following:
"The Marines I have seen around the world have the cleanest bodies, the filthiest minds, the highest morale, and the lowest morals of any group of animals I have ever seen. Thank God for the United States Marine Corps!"
This statement was made by Mrs. Eleanor Roosevelt, whose oldest son, Jimmy, won the Navy Cross while serving as the Executive Officer of 2nd Raider Battalion during the Makin Island raid in August, 1942.
I can't think of a better "tribute to" or "description of" United States Marines.
Sgt. Lucien J. Bodkin, III
About Ron Knight being promoted ot Sgt. out of boot camp.
It could be that he was a Corporal in the Marine Corps Reserves. Sent to PI for boot camp and was promoted to Sgt. at graduation. If I remember correctly, our platoon had some reserves. Our platoon leader was a Reservist. He was a Corporal and was promoted to Sergeant at graduation. You do know that they all had teh rank of Private while in boot camp.
PI Platoon 266 / Sept. 3, 1957
Does anyone know how to get dependent's health records? We were in base housing from '66 to'67 and again in '73 to'74. Dependent medical was not on the checkout sheet.
Joseph Wilbur, WWII Marine from Easton, MA passed away about 6 Mar '16. Member 1stLt Brian McPhillips Metro South Det 1115 MA.
Jim Leonard, SSgt (Ret.)
'60-'80, Plt 239 (May to Sept)
Thank You Sgt Whipple for posting the pictures of the old 3rd Battalion at PI. I was with G Company 3rd Bn in '67-'69 and am thankful that the walls can't talk.
I was in 8th Marines from 58 to 61. I developed Colon - Rectal Cancer in 1997 and ended up with a Colostomy. Started responding to paper work I received about 6 years ago, after much paper work and talking with one Doctor on the phone after 2 years I received notice that my Cancer wasn't caused by the water. I'd like to know what desk jockey decided that. Guess I should just be happy to still be alive.
In your last newsletter it was noticed that the demise of 3 battalion barracks were of brick structure used in 1961.
"Old" Third Battalion were Quonset Huts as per Platoon 281 in September of 1957. When we came back from the rifle range, we were moved to 2nd Battalion in order to condense the training field for the fewer platoons "in training" during November & December.
I was in Plt 144, D Company, 1st Batt in 1961. We did indeed call 3rd Batt 'Disneyland' because of the brick barracks. We called 2nd Batt 'The Twilight Zone'. We had the old wooden buildings that I suspect were built for WW II. I went back to Parris Island in 1985 or 1986 and I am pretty sure that there were new barracks then. The only old building still standing was the mess hall. I drove and walked the base, looking at the confidence and obstacle courses. The old Triangle PX had been replaced by a big new store. Memories came flooding back as they still do to this day. You never get it out of your head, or heart. My Senior DI was S/Sgt Stanley Patton.
Regarding the picture from Sgt. Whipple's showing of the barracks at PISC 3d Bat.
I went thru PISC in 1959, 1st Bat. had wood barracks, (mine was Plt. 112, C company) 2nd Bat. was bricks, 3d Bat. was Quonset Huts. When 1st Bat. went to the rifle range, we stayed in those huts and 3d Bat. was housed in our barracks, (when we returned we found out what a "G.I." was!
As for the yellow footprints, they were at Yamasee, and how is it that you always arrived there at O'Dark: Thirty!
I have been following the Newsletters for quite a while; We were taught "There is No Yellow or Red in The Marine Corps!" Crimson and Gold!
There is only one patch that has yellow on it; It is the horse that can't be rode, the line that can't be crossed and we always knew what yellow stood for. As for the red, that was Joe McCarthy's idea!
Until next time.
"A strong body makes the mind strong. As to the species of exercises, I advise the gun. While this gives moderate exercise to the body, it gives boldness, enterprise and independence to the mind. Games played with the ball, and others of that nature, are too violent for the body and stamp no character on the mind. Let your gun therefore be your constant companion of your walks."
--Thomas Jefferson (1785)
"[A]s peace is better than war, war is better than tribute."
--James Madison (1816)
"I have never been bewildered for long in any fight with our enemies – I was Armed with Insight."
--Gen. James "Mad Dog" Mattis
"Marines die; that's what we're here for. But the Marine Corps lives forever. And that means YOU live forever."
--The role of GySgt. Hartman, USMC; portrayed by GySgt. R. Lee Ermey, a Marine Corps Drill Instructor, using his own choice of words in the movie Full Metal Jacket, 1987
"The Marines have landed and the situation is well in hand."
--Attributed to Richard Harding Davis (1864-1916)
"Talkers are usually more articulate than doers, since talk is their specialty."
--Thomas Sowell, USMC Korean War Veteran and Economist
"My DI is hard of hearing, he keeps saying 'I CAN'T hear you!'"
"PT is strictly mind over matter, I don't mind and you don't matter."
"You people are not a mob, you're a herd. A mob has a leader!"
Fair winds and following seas!