|
Be sure to add info@sgtgritnews.com to your address book or trusted senders list.
Sgt Grit Newsletter VS AmericanCourage Newsletter:
You receive both (alternating weeks)...so what's the difference?
In short...The AmericanCourage Newsletter has MORE family member
stories, "support the Corps" stories from Marines, and patriotic
quotes. It started after the events of Sept. 11, 2001 to give
supporters of the Marine Corps and American patriots a voice.
The Sgt Grit Newsletter is HARD CORPS Marine! If you are
interested in topics that delve into Marine Corps history, Corps
Stories, Boot Camp and other things that "only a Marine might
understand" - then be sure to read the Sgt Grit Newsletter
(every other week) - More about the newsletter |
Qualification day on the P.I. Rifle Range at 300 yards, Rapid
Fire.
Went down into position and fired the ten rounds from the M-1.
The D.I. standing to my right started to scream, "you turd, you
fired too fast, watch what happens when the target comes back
up".
Target comes back up with the disc spinning, all in the black.
He jumped and stood on my back and commenced to beat me
profusely about the head and shoulders with his swagger stick
saying "Why in the h&ll did you make a liar out of me".
Just part of becoming a Marine!
Semper Fi
Cliff Jobes
1956-1965
History in pictures
1st Sgt Jimmee Howard, 1967
Capt. Chesty Puller, 1935-36
GySgt Dan Daly. 1920's
Pictures submitted by GySgt Grady Rainbow, USMC, Ret.
Stoner Platoon, 1964
This story starts in April 1964 when as a young and eager 17 yr
old. I departed Staten Island, NY for Parris Island SC. When we
arrived at the receiving center we were greeted by the usual
screams of, "Get off my f'n bus" and "Get on my yellow
footprints" (receiving used to be up by the Iron Mike statue for
those of you who came after we left), it is now down past 2nd
btn. and the schools building. I digress...back to receiving,
well we did all the forms and made our phone calls to whoever
answered the phone at home. Then some of the group were picked
up and went to their platoons, the rest of the group were sent
back to the classroom in receiving where we waited 2 days for
the rest of our platoon to be selected, as we later found out,
to be members of the Stoner 63 Rifle/Weapon System Test Platoon.
We became platoon 236. That was when we met our loving
caretakers and banes to our existence for the next 13 weeks. Our
drill instructors S/Sgt. Edwards, Sgt Hall and Cpl. Later to
become Sgt Wade. Well I don't need to elaborate on the thumps
and other eccentricities these gentlemen performed on our young
bodies. Locker box manual of arms was a favorite and moving
house was another. Oh and when we got to the rifle range "get
neckid and waller" in the steam room was a real treat. We
started with 95 "Laddie Bucks" and graduated 62. As you know the
most enjoyable sight in my entire time in the Corps was seeing
that long causeway disappear out the back window of the bus
leaving recruit training depot Parris Island.
Being that we were a "special" Test platoon after PI we stayed
together through ITR and then went out into the division to A
Company 1st Btn. 8th Marines to continue the testing of the
Stoner system. We stayed together for a few months after PI and
I think it was Sept of 64 when we finally finished our phase of
the testing, broke up and went to our respective fields of
endeavor throughout the Corps. I went to 10th Marines with a few
of the other guys. We did the Santo Domingo thing in 65 I did a
stint in Gitmo. When I got back from Cuba I found orders to WEST
PAC, and wound up in Kilo 4/12 for my remaining time in the
Corps.
Then about 10 years ago I told my wife that I would like to find
as many of the guys I went thru P I with as I could, so we
started to do some research and came up with 42 of them. We have
had several reunions and great times since.
Last February we made plans to go to Titusville, Fla for a
reunion and tour at Knight Armament Co., who now hold the rights
to the Stoner system and were guided on our tour of Knights
Museum by Reed Knight, designer of the Rail Systems for the M16
and Mrs. Barbara Stoner, wife of Eugene Stoner. About a month or
2 prior to the get together, the lovely Mrs. Bob tells me upon
my arrival home from running some errands that I had a phone
call from a Charlie Edwards. It seems that she had found our Sr
DI and he was willing to talk to me. I said, "HOLY CRAP! What do
I say to this guy," and Mrs. Bob, told me that I stood at
attention through the whole conversation! Well it turned out he
is a really nice guy and I thanked him for making me the man I
am today. I invited him to our reunion and he said he and his
wife didn't fly and since they were in California it didn't seem
likely. I told him to expect many calls from the guys, to which
he answered, "I doubt those guys will want to talk to me." Which
proved to be wrong as Charlie soon found out.
We went to Florida and on the first night as Marines are wont to
do were all standing around at the bar waiting to be seated for
dinner telling all of the "how Bad we were stories" when in the
back door comes this campaign hat tilted down in the front and
this guy strutting his stuff like it was 40 years ago and we
screwed up on the drill field. MAN You Want To See 15 60 year
old plus guys sphincters tighten. Our wives and children tell
us, "It was a pleasure to watch". My wife Flora, Barbara
Chadwick (wife of MGYSGT Mike Chadwick USMC Ret. and Terry
Edwards (wife of Capt. C. E. Edwards USMC Ret.) , co-
conspirators, had it all planned to surprise us and man did it
work. We had a great reunion nice to find out after all these
years he didn't hate us after all.
Semper FI
Bob Molski
Attached photos: Parris Island graduation, Feb 2009 reunion Knight Armament Museum, 1st meeting after 45 years at restaurant.
Marines of the '50s
Boot Camp Reunion being planned for late April/ early May 2010 at MCRD San Diego (location updated),
for Marines of platoon 33 (Sept. 1950 MCRD San Diego), other
Marines of this era and anyone else who is interested.
For more information please contact:
Bob Caro
bobcaromcma@aol.com
805-988-1025
Why reunions?
My New Tattoo
Sgt Grit,
I served in the Marines from 1/10/69 to 15/11/71 and was in
country in Vietnam in April 8, 1970. I was attached to guns
squad with Echo 2/7 and was known as Rat.
My name is Gus Guillen
and live in Winston, Oregon since 1972. On September 26, 1970
Echo Co was patrolling above Dodge City I believe in the Que Son
mountains when I stepped on a booby trap and lost both legs
below the knees. I am looking for Melton M. Johnson from
Baltimore and others from Echo, Fox, Golf, and Hotel Companies
in 1970.
I have attached a picture of myself and Melton at FSB
Baldy. I need to let him and all of Echo Co. that I made it home
and am still alive and proud of being a Marine. I need to show
them my new tattoo.
Semper Fi Sgt Grit and welcome home.
Augustine R. Guillen, USMC Retired.
Vietnam (1967) G-3-11
Hill 55 . . . that's me on the far left.
Larry Stevens
III Marine Amphibious Force
Sgt Grit,
I was 18 years-old in September, 1966 when our 3rd Marine
Division MP unit was assigned to a POW compound the Seabees had
built on the south flank of Hill 327 in DaNang, Vietnam. A North
Korean PT boat had attacked a US Navy destroyer in the South
China Sea. 19 survivors of the attack were turned over to our
unit for protection and ostensibly for bargaining the release of
downed American pilots in North Vietnam.
The photos show the camp built as a defense buffer on the
southwest approach into the city. The entire camp was
constructed according to the Geneva Convention.
Individual
bunkers (bunkers.jpg) on the outside perimeter of the camp
housed each of the prisoners and contained a small sandbag
bunker. There was a mess hall and a courtyard where they played
volleyball and soccer. Three isolated interrogation booths
(interrogation.jpg) were used by civilians whom I later surmised
to be CIA operatives.
The POWs were treated humanely; indeed, many of us befriended
them. I believe it was the Captain who taught me to play chess.
We were often visited by the Red Cross and Swiss doctors.
I have no idea what became of them as our unit was transferred
to Dong Ha the following month.
Jack Stanfill
Six Days Later
Hello,
I am a former Sgt USMC. I knew from the day I was born that I
wanted to be a Marine and so off I went to boot camp arriving
Oct 17, 1983, San diego, CA. I was assigned to Platoon 3105
Lima Co. Six days later 220 Marines were killed in Beirut. I
so wanted to be assigned to the infantry and go over there and
kill those cowards that did that. But I never got the chance.
Every year I remember those Marines. In honor of them, I had my
entire back tattooed. Here is a picture of it. It was the most
painful 10 hours of my life. But those Marines I never met and
the cowardly act that killed them helped me to endure the pain.
I did it for them and only them.
If you would like a higher resolution or larger pic let me know.
Sincerely,
Steven Ruttenberg
Saving Our Butts
Just read the letter from Sgt. Hendrickson, Air Winger.
Obviously, some of his critics have never been in close combat
and received close air support. As a Korea combat vet, I can
still remember the Corsairs overhead, strafing, bombing,
dropping napalm in front of us. I am one of the "Chosin Few." We
were surrounded and outnumbered about 10 to 1 by the Chinese.
Nov.-Dec., 1950. The Marine Air Wing was a significant help in
saving our butts.
So don't belittle the Air Wing if you haven't been there.
Aquila non capit muscas...An eagle does not catch flies...
Semper Fi
Monte R. Norton
1950-1954
I Find that hard to believe! Every Marine knows every Marine
doing his duty respects every other Marine, regardless of rank ,
MOS or location !
I can distinctly remember seeing and hearing those Close Air
Support guys thundering down the valley laying down a wall of
death in front of our position. Thank God for Fly Guys ! (And
their support )
Fisher, Philip D
H, 3/5 1952-1955
Sgt Hendrickson,
Not sure who the Marines were that did not respect your MOS in
Air Wing, but as a Vietnam veteran, I can assure you that "we
kissed the ground that you walked on". For it not for the Air
Support, we on the ground (0311s) would have never survived and
won the war, (Regardless of what anybody says, we did win the
war and you can ask any NVA about that). Every time that anyone
introduces themselves (from any Branch) that they are or were
from Air Support, I would give them a special thanks. Because
I've been there, got the scares to prove it and I am still here.
Tell all your Wing-wiper friends to not take any joking
personal. We, that are on the front lines have a special respect
for you (angels).
Semper Fi,
Cpl Efrain Villagomez aka - Go Go
VN 1967-68
USMC
I am a retired MSGT. of Marines(1958-1979) I served in the field
and in the Air Wing, I started my time as a grunt and ended it
as a GSE chief. Your experience with that MGYSGT (ret) is I
believe the exception of how fellow Marines relate to their
brothers and I question his credentials. I thank you for your
service and keeping me in the Air for more operations then I
care to remember, I owe my life to Marine's like you!
Simper Fi,
MSgt. Conrad
Sgt. Hendrickson, 3rd MAW,
Grunts 'love' airwingers. Trust me.
Delivering 'bullets and beans', medevacs, the smell of napalm in
the tree line to the front. Your contribution isn't lost on
them. Friendly banter is what you're encountering.
As a pilot, I always told my 'grunt' buddies that a jet jock's
idea of roughing it was 'when the ice melted in his martini'.
That provoked some ----!
R.M. 'Zeb" Zobenica
Capt. USMC (Ret)
Short Rounds
Sgt. Grit:
re DI's and their welcome to PI. SSgt Feemster introduced
himself to a group of 17/18 yr olds with the following:"My name
is SSgt Feemster, I am 3/4 Cherokee and 1/4 badasz, any f'ing
questions?" Dead silence!
P D Rowe, summer `1956
I enlisted 30 May 1962. My serial number is 1939894. I note with
interest that yours, 1957073, even though your service began in
1961. I suppose they had assigned blocks of serial numbers to
certain areas or something.
Lamar Reynolds
Cpl. Darrell McCulley asked for a lower serial number than his.
Mine was and will always be 1811944.
Jim Sanders
L/Cpl of Marines
1961-1967
In answer to Darrell McCulley. How about this number. 998113.
GySgt Henry Tireman, 1944-1968 Retired. There are many more of
us still around.
.
hi sgt. Happy new year to you and your staff. in reply to darrel
i was in parris island in july 1953 plt 255 in the old wooden
barracks. my service no. is 1412861 i think most of grunts that
were in Korea started with 12- 13 i guess they knew we were on
our way and they end the war thank GOD.
God bless you
pfc ron dougherty
1412861 semper fi
This is in response to the statement from Darrell McCulley
Corporal, 1961-1965 Serial Number 1957073....If you are not one
of the original two battalions formed on November 10, 1775 then
you and the rest of us are not the "Old Corps"...Semper Fi
Richard Hill
Boot camp January-April 1956, DI Cpl Maynard platoon 27 4th Bn,
favorite saying was I am going to unscrew the top of your head
and sh!t in it.
Old Corps my serial # 1584581
MSGT Bill Dugan Retired
I was a combat engineer in the corps. Deal with demoliton,
construction and land mine warfare its an awesome mos he should
have fun C. Pugh
Sgt. Grit,
My step-Father, former Marine (07), just received the shield
sword display that I bought him from your catalog. He was
absolutely thrilled! Thank you so much for everything you do.
Michael McNeil
In reply,
God bless the SeaBees of Marble Mountain in East Da Nang. I was
in a CAP unit outside their base in 66-67. We worked hand and
hand. We saw them as an extension of the Marine Corps.
Former Sgt.
Joe Hiers Jr CAP Golf-5
my daughter called me on Christmas day to tell me that my
grandson is going into the Corps in april going to take his boot
in diego same place i took mine in 1952 im very proud of him to.
cpl. karavites 2/1/1 sniper(Korea)
Sergeant Richard Molleo of New Bedford, MA left us today.
Sarge, as he was known to all his many friends, served two tours
in Vietnam. He was one of my best friends. Of all the
accomplishments he had in life, his love of the Corps was right
up there at the top. The next drink is on you, Sarge.
Godspeed.
Jim Pye
Corporal of Marines 69-71
Sgt. Grit,
I just wanted to thank you for posting the story and group photo
of supply platoon, third tanks, I've gotten many replies from
Marines that were in my platoon. This is the first time I've
spoken to my fellow Marines in 44 years. Once again, thank you
for making this old Marine happy.
Semper Fi
Sgt. Joe Mastrangelo
1973658
I about fell out of my chair laughing at this video:
A US Marine at a
roadway checkpoint, bored to tears, talking to a Baghdad-bound
Iraqi taxi driver. You have to understand Marine humor in
combat-a little on the sick side, but very funny. This lad's
sarcasm and cynicism is profound and hilarious.
Sgt Grit.
That is a awesome picture of that F-86C in the latest
newsletter. I bet that not to many recognize it to be the
markings of the F-86 that Colonel John Glen flew as an exchange
pilot with the USAF. He nailed 3 MiG-15s while there.
A beautiful picture.
Lloyd Cole, Capt, Inf, VDF
The thing I remember most about eating SOS! It was SALTY AS
H&LL!
One old Jarhead
Boot Camp 1948 Style
The train from Los Angeles, carrying Navy/Marine recruits,
pulled into San Diego at sundown on October 18, 1948, there were
about 100 Navy recruits, myself and three other Marines.
A number of Officers and Chiefs were waiting for the Navy
recruits. They mustered them, and told them they were going to
the Navy Training Center for hot chow and bed time. We Marines
were watching the show with interest when a deep voice behind us
asked "you people Marines?", looking around, there stood a
Marine Buck Sgt. Noting his skepticism, we assured him we were
Marines, he then took the bus tokens given to us in Los Angeles
and we caught a city bus to MCRD, gate five.
Upon entering gate five, the Sgt suddenly became very agitated,
( normal attitude for Buck Sgt's!) and began to loudly make
uncomplimentary descriptions of our personages, and as we ran
from gate five to the Receiving Barracks, he made other
disparaging remarks, and even suggested we might be fly-larvae!
At the Receiving Barracks, we were welcomed by a trio of Marines
who epitomized the theory of mans ascendancy from primates, (I
think a couple were still "ascending") they quickly instilled in
us the importance of "yes sir", and "no sir". I was very
impressed with their vocabularies; it was incredible, to someone
of my sensitive nature, how one four letter word could be used
in so many descriptive ways! I was tempted to ask for a pencil
and paper so I could write them down, but the sound of
screaming, whimpering, and of bodies being slammed into walls,
persuaded me otherwise.
There were no yellow footprints, but there may have been brown
stains in some skivvies. There was no chow, hot or cold, and bed
time was hours away.
The next morning we got our first introduction to Marine chow.
They took a couple of pieces of burnt toast, covered it with a
concoction of ground beef and gravy, and topped it off with a
couple of fried eggs. I protested to the cook that the stuff
looked like it had already been eaten! His comment "how do you
think it got its name! Keep moving, Maggot!" (Marine cooks are
very sensitive and uncouth, when their culinary capabilities are
questioned) After you have dined on a plate of that stuff, you
are definitely ready to kill! After 61 years, I still like SOS.
SOS is sort of like zex, once you are introduced to it, you hate
to give it up. (ALRIGHT! it is not sort of like zex)
After a week of new recruits slowly arriving, Platoon 101
started boot training.
Our Two Drill Instructors, Sgt's Hughes and Hern, never used
profanity or raised their voices! They did not have to. They
told us "act like men and you will be treated as men, and handle
your own problems". If someone needed help, they got it. If
someone needed to go home to Momma, they were sent. One thing
our drill instructors did insist on was that the visor on your
cover be so low that you could only see your feet. They happily
adjusted the visor for you, if it was too high. More than a few
members of platoon 101 had scabs on their noses. Sometimes the
DI's would remove the old scabs and replace them with new ones.
True compassion knows no bounds!
Our DI'S and all Boot Camp instructors were World War Two
veterans. The Sgt that taught camouflage and concealment would
throw rocks at you if he could see you! He was definitely no
"Sandy Koufax". When he threw a rock, you could be 30 feet from
his intended target and still get hit! You had to stay loose
around those old China Marines that also served in World War
Two. You never knew if they were going to say something
profound, or slit your throat just to watch you bleed! However,
they came in very handy when the Korean War started; they kept
most of us snot noses alive!
We graduated in January 1949, and were assigned to our permanent
duty stations. Mine was MCAS El Toro, where I enjoyed various
assignments and deployments, and many servings (globs?) of SOS,
some almost edible! I served for three years and eleven months,
and was discharged one month before my twenty-first birthday.
Jim Reed, S/Sgt 1948-52 USMC, 54-55 Active USMCR
BAR
I would like to tell ya my short encounter with the BAR in my
short time at ITR. As soon as we got there, I was assigned the
BARMAN in my fire team. Great! Now I had 2 weapons to keep
clean. And it was heavy!
I do remember firing it at the range. They were so old, and the
rifling so warn, that the rounds would tumble into the targets!
And tear m' up! I got lucky! After the first week. We got a 15
day leave for Christmas & New Years! When we came back, I was no
longer the BARMAN! Didn't hurt my feelings one bit!
The old jarhead 57/60
Vietnamese Playboy
An Hoa, Vietnam
1967
In the first week of January, a C130 transport plane dumped me
onto the red mud of An Hoa, Vietnam. The 2nd Battalion of the
5th Marine Regiment ran patrols and sweeps into "Indian Country"
and rotated one infantry company each month to stand security on
top of Nong Son Mountain, four miles away.
Excited and nervous, I stood at attention in front of the
Battalion First Sergeant ready for assignment as a specialist in
interrogation or intelligence. He shuffled through my file for a
few seconds and handed it back to me.
"OK Private, go on over to Fox Company. They need riflemen."
A grunt? A common rifleman? I didn't move.
He turned back to the tall stack of paper on his desk.
Overworked and worn out, he stared up at me. "What are you
waitin' for, Private?"
"First Sergeant, I don't know if you noticed but I attended
Vietnamese language school."
He stood. "We don't need no f'in gok talkers. We need
riflemen. Now get the f'k over there!"
As a new member of the 1st Platoon I kept my mouth shut and
tried to learn from more experienced grunts how to survive.
After a month of patrols, ambushes, sand bagging, operations,
and sleep deprivation - Hugh Hefner intervened on my behalf.
Local Vietnamese militia officers invited our company commander
to meet and discuss collaboration at a local village. A few days
later, Fox Company encircled the selected site and as I walked
by with my squad, the gunny pulled two of us out to stand guard
duty in front of a grass hut.
Gunny Jones grumbled. "Keep your sh't together. The Colonel's
comin over from An Hoa for the meeting inside. Don't f'k up!"
Me and Rabbi shrugged and assumed what we thought to be
intimidating foreign devil personas on each side of the door.
Time passed so we started bullsh'tting and relaxed. Villagers
noticed we had dissolved into human beings and curious,
approached.
"Rabbi, watch this. I'll blow their minds."
I turned and faced the dozen or so villagers. "Chao Cac Ong.
Manh gioi?" (Howdy everybody. How are you?)
The crowd laughed and moved closer. A foreign devil spoke
Vietnamese, and with a terrible and comical accent.
Rabbi stiffened. "Jesus, Mac! What the f'k did you say?"
"Shalom."
"Well, tell em to move back! What's that guy in the back pullin
out?" Rabbi released the safety on his M16.
"Lai dei!" I called the man forward.
""It's a Playboy magazine, Rabbi."
The villager opened his magazine and showed me a full-page
cartoon. "Cai nai la yi?" (What is this?)
It took five minutes to explain the cultural concept of
pictorial humor. In an effort to win hearts and minds, I began a
presentation of the Playboy jokes. Soon, thirty villagers
gathered in front of us laughing and howling as I translated
captions.
"What the h&ll is going on here?"
Rabbi and I snapped to attention. Our Colonel came around from
behind the hut with his bodyguards.
"Uh, Sir. I was just translating these Playboy jokes for the
folks here, Sir."
"How the h&ll do you speak Vietnamese, son?"
"Sir, I attended DLI in Monterey."
"What's your job with Foxtrot, Private?"
"Rifleman, Sir."
"Come with me."
We entered the darkened hut with six allied officers sitting on
the ground.
The Colonel interrupted, "Captain Graham, did you know this
Marine speaks Vietnamese and is assigned as a rifleman in your
company? If you don't use him appropriately, I will take him
back with me to Battalion."
"Colonel, I didn't know. We'll bring him into the CP as an
interpreter."
"D*mn right you will. Now introduce me to our new friends here."
He grabbed my arm. "Son, you sit next to me and make sure they
don't bullsh't us."
"Yes, Sir."
As the source of his discomfort I tried not to look at Captain
Graham. My life had just changed forever and thanks to the
universal appeal of Playboy Magazine, I was to return home.
Cpl. Brent MacKinnon
2270596
1966-68
Ice Cold Black Label
There was so much lead shot up into the sky that night, it's a
wonder some of us were not killed by falling bullets. I was a
LCpl back then in MOS 0141 as my day job, and flying as the
starboard gunner with HMH-463 every other day, and twice on
Sunday. But I digress. Cpl Swain picked me up from the DaNang
reception center upon my arrival in the RVN. My orders read for
further assignment to MCC 145. All I knew about that at the
time that Monitor Command Code (MCC) 145 meant somewhere within
the structure of the 1st MAW.
After Cpl Swain gathered me up with my seabag, we headed off to
Marble Mountain. Once on the road, Cpl Swain reaches into the
back of the jeep, and hands me an ice cold Black Label can of
beer, and one for himself of course. I knew right then and
there that I was going to like my tour in country. That night,
after getting settled into my Sea Hut, and consuming untold cans
of Black Label, there was a rocket attack.
The next thing I know, is being on the receiving end of a
fireman's carry being unceremoniously thrown into a sandbag
bunker next to the sea hut. My buddy LCpl Mike Martin and I
when we weren't flying, were in charge of taking care of PM for
the CO's jeep. On several occasions we told the Admin Chief we
were off to the motor pool to take care of the required PM, but
instead grabbed our M-16's and drove to the MACV compound for
lunch at the White Elephant (steak and a couple beers), then
back to Marble Mountain.
What a time we had! I remember that Marble Mountain has a very
nice white sand beach, where I learned to surf the waves. In
early '69 I developed a serious case of heat rash, the only real
relief from which came from a cooling dip in the ocean. Mike
and I took R&R together in Bangkok, but that's another story,
and probably not suited for posting in this forum.
G. K. Hanson
MGySgt USMC (Ret)
Fart Sack
Sgt Grit,
Just got done reading the latest newsletter and am still
laughing at the funny "Face Book" posting. Just wanted to add
to that and share some funny things that my DI's said and or
did.
I was in platoon 2063 at Parris Island under SSGT Krause and
SGT's Ishmail and Mazenko (July to October 1981). Anyway,
Mazenko was the youngest of the three and still in his early
twenties, but was still one tough dude and great DI, but I know
he had a sense of humor because there were many times when we
did some really stupid things and he had to turn his head so
that we would not see him laughing at us!
I have always had a very good sense of humor myself, but
throughout most of my time at Parris Island I was too scared to
ever crack a smile, but one day in the early stages of First
Phase Mazenko was teaching us how to properly make our racks.
He was going over each item of bed-linen and instructing us on
the proper name or "nomenclature". When he got to the cotton
sack that covers the mattress and called it a "Fart Sack", it
was all I could do to keep from busting out laughing, but I did
crack a huge smile and Mazenko saw me. He flew over to where I
was sitting in the "school circle" and screamed, "You slimy
f'king maggot, get on your feet_do I amuse you?" "Does the word
fart sack amuse you?" "Sir, no sir", I replied. "Get on your
f'king face and bang em out until I get tired, scumbag." As I
was getting myself into the push-up position, I looked up and
could see him strain to keep from cracking a smile himself as he
walked back to the front of the school circle!
Another time during Third Phase, we were preparing for a field
events day where the platoons in our series were going to
compete against each other in several events. Anyway, Mazenko
was looking for someone to run in one of the sprinting events
and one of our "stockier" recruits volunteered. This guy was an
athlete, but not one that you would look at and envision as a
runner. The recruit volunteered and said, "Sir, the recruit ran
the 100 in high school". And Mazenko quickly replied, "what?,
on a f'king skateboard, sit down fat boy!"
God bless our troops and I thank you for your service to our
great country!
Semper Fi,
Mike Kunkel
Cpl, 0331
Lima 3/8, Weapons Plt
81-85
Just Been Washed
The story of the F-4 driver at Chu Lai taxing out with the
hydraulic leak because he determined that there was enough in
the tank to make the mission pretty much sums up the attitude of
most Marine pilots when it comes to mission completion. As an
old A-6 pilot I can say that we all considered the visible signs
of oil and hydraulic fluid on the outside meant that there was
oil and hydraulic fluid on the inside. You really didn't like
it much when you got assigned an aircraft that had just been
washed.
Semper Fi,
Major Dale Giordano (Ret)
1971 - 1991
Informed That A DI Was
Just finished reading funny and interesting things that happened
in boot camp. I enlisted in the Marine Corps,28 July 1966. Sent
to MCRD San Diego where I joined Platoon 3078. As I read the
postings my mind went back to that era as if it were yesterday.
Of course one of the first things you are told as a recruit is
to let everyone back home know that they are to send nothing to
you but a letter. Of course, for whatever reason, someone back
home just did not get that message. Well, one kid received a
cigar in a letter, the drill instructor felt the lump in the
envelope and called the unfortunate recruit to where mail was
being passed out in the squad bay. Upon opening the envelope and
finding the cigar, the recruit was ordered to retrieve his
bucket and wool blanket and return to the DI where he was
ordered to light the cigar, put the bucket and blanket over his
head and smoke that stogie. When the blanket and bucket was
removed the kids face was very nearly the same color as his OD
green blanket! As I recall, that recruit never received another
cigar.
Then we had another recruit who, when we were on the back
grinder facing where the Navy planes would take off, just could
not help watching the planes take flight. As we were at
attention at the time, this was noticed by the DI, who of course
had no sense of humor when it came to standing at attention. The
recruit was told that since he so enjoyed watching the planes
take off and land, he could be just like them. He was ordered to
spread his arms to represent wings and run around the grinder
yelling, "I am an airplane, I am an airplane". This went on for
a considerable amount of time as I remember. I'm fairly sure
that the recruit paid little or no attention to the planes after
that.
My first full day in boot camp, I erred by requesting to speak
to the "DI". As soon as the words were out of my mouth I knew
that I had screwed up. I received an invitation to meet with the
drill instructor in the Quonset hut where I was promptly asked
if I knew what a "DI" was. When I replied, "Sir, no Sir" I
received a fist to the stomach. Then I was informed that a "DI"
was a dmned idiot, where upon I was given another fist to the
stomach. After being asked if I thought he looked like a dmned
idiot and replying, "Sir, no Sir", I was promptly given another
punctuation mark to the stomach and ordered back to the
formation. Needless to say I never uttered the name "DI" again
the whole time I was in boot camp.
It didn't take this 17 year old long to learn that lesson. Thank
God, that was my only serious screw up in boot camp. During boot
camp I really thought that the drill instructors were crazy and
could not understand why they did some of the things they did.
After arriving in Viet Nam and being assigned to 3rd Recon Bn in
February of '67, I understood things a whole lot better as to
why the training was the way it was. Thank GOD for drill
instructors!
Marvin Byrd
No Black Shoe Navy
I really got a kick out of Sgt Gerlings's story about Seabees in
the PI. It is true! This Seabee hated to be called sailor,
swabby, squid, whatever other derogatory names associated with
the boat navy. In 70 - 71 MCB 71 was deployed to GITMO. We
began construction on a new enlisted men's club along with many
other projects. One of our Docs had the afternoon off and
traveled to the old White Hat club and commenced to get his butt
beat up by a bunch of boat sailors that had just pulled into
port.
I served in Alpha Co as a CM and was visiting my buds in Charlie
Company, our builders, when 3 deuce and a half's pulled up. A
Senior Chief storms in the barracks and hollers out all hand on
the trucks, the boat people just hurt our Doc. About 70 guys
loaded onto the trucks and off we went. Well, when we arrived
there was already about a platoon of Marines waiting for us.
Seems they got the word a Doc was hurt by sailors and they
volunteered their services. All I can say is that was quite an
afternoon! Thanks my brothers!
No sir Sarge, we didn't like no boat people at all!
Jim Hartman CM3
MCB 71 68-74
Khe Sanh Christmas
Sgt. Grit,
I also wish you a very Merry Christmas.
I wanted to share a story with you about this beloved Holiday.
In Nov. 1965 the 3rd Force Recon Co. was formed as part of the
new built up 3rd Marine Division at Camp Geiger, alongside the
housing of 2nd Force Recon. We trained for a little over 6 mons.
for Nam and after all the Jump School, Scuba School, sub
lockouts, beach recon and hard land Recon marches and patrols we
departed for West Pac from our East coast in the LHP Boxer to
travel through the Suez Canal to Nam. Below our decks unknown to
us, were the CH-46's that were the squadron that is written
about in the tremendous book 'Bonny Sue' and who later did the
bulk of our insertions and extractions during our tour.
As the tour went on, two teams were sent to Khe Sanh to begin
patrols over the Christmas of 1966-67. The former ARVN's and the
Special Forces camp was in the process of being flattened [
trenches filled and structures leveled] so we were billeted in
tents laying on the flat Red Clay with 2.5 ft long rats reconing
us at night. There were 110 men around the 'perimeter' of the
airfield and in grunt foxholes over that Christmas.
Two of us thought that, one of us remembering 'Willy and Joe'
cartoons from WWII, we should do so individual creative
solutions to the holiday problem and talked our Boss Sgt. Jim
Capers [ later Retired Maj.] into going on patrol an gathering
in a 'Christmas Tree'. He agreed and with all the appropriate
call signs, equipment gathering and checks, perimeter pass words
we went single file weapons ready to recon, find and recover a
tree for the mission. We succeeded and I clearly remember
carrying the tree in front of the 106 recoilless rifle tube
backed by another M-60 aiming Marine for any followers after us
and setting it up in our larger tent.
We cut the inside out of C rats cans and the inside of the Long
Range Patrol rats bags for ornaments and of course a Cross for
the top. We actually exchanged some small gifts from home [food
items] and extra rations we had all squirreled away with each
other and sang a couple of the worst carols ever that evening. I
do finally remember someone handing me a tin cup with rum in it
to begin my night hour long night watch that night.
I just wanted this story to be shared to illustrate that like
the main difference between two buildings are the people, the
main difference between two humans is still the people. If a
small force of as isolated a group of humans as we Marines were,
then it should be pointed out that the difference is the people
who are Marines.
Semper Fi!
Richard C. Crepeau
Sgt. USMC,
3rdForRecCoDet.
1st Plt,
team 'Broadminded'
DDS
A Different Kind of Christmas
In reference to the Christmas story submitted by "Sgt. Of
Marines Bryan Carpenter 83-89" where his platoon enjoyed a day
of "mail and care packages, games, and singing competition", my
platoon, 3103, in 1982 (also at MCRD Diego) were treated to a
morning of thrashing. By relays of course. If your relay
wasn't in the "classroom" you were busy attending to your
uniform and such. Followed by a whole whopping 15 minutes of
noon chow, followed by a rain soaked afternoon of COD, followed
by another whopping 15 minutes of evening chow.
The funniest part of the whole day is when the DI stopped the
Platoon and called out some recruit who was sucking on some hard
candy while we were doing COD. The guy had to spit it out, roll
the candy in the mud and put it back into his mouth. This went
on for about 4 times until he ended up doing pushups over his
beloved hard candy. Like SGT. Carpenter, we really were hoping
to have an "off" day and a nice relaxed Christmas meal. Didn't
happen for us. Glad it happened to some though. Keep the
stories coming. I need them!
CPL. J. P. Russell
2nd MARDIV.
81-85
Added To Hymn?
After watching the movie "Guadalcanal Diary" in 1944 I became
determined to be a Marine. I eventually served from '54 to '58
attaining the rank of Sergeant. Recently I started attending the
Marine Corps Birthday luncheon here in Oklahoma City. At the end
of the luncheon the Hymn is sung by all in attendance. The first
time I stumbled over the stanza "In the air, on land and sea".
My question is when was the phrase "In the air" added to the
hymn. Don't get me wrong. I'm proud it is there, but somehow I
missed that along the way and felt somewhat stupid.
Edward Spence
Sgt. USMC
SOS
Sgt. Grit,
Concerning the article about "Scheit-on-a-shingle" in the 31
December news letter.
I lost an old friend two years ago, Marty Norman, who was a cook
in our beloved Corps and served from 1939-the mid 1960's. He
gave me a copy of the official USMC recipe for SOS a few years
ago.
Semper Fi
Carl "Moon" Mullen
MGySgt USMC (Ret.)
Suffered From Advanced
Time does warp those endorphins; I actually served 63/64 tour
with 4th Marines.
My contribution to slang anachronism's for various items of
Marine chow: hamburgers were 'hockey puck's'.
WWII anecdote: In Wellington, New Zealand, which was staging
area for Marine assault troop's headed for island campaign's,
competition was keen for lovely young lassies who were vastly
outnumbered by amorous servicemen vying for their favors.
The competition soon figured an angle, which was to spread rumor
that Marine's displaying the green Foragiere on their left
shoulder (earned by 6th Marine's in WWI at Belleau Wood, France)
meant that the wearer suffered from advanced gonorrhea. Nice
guy's. All's fair in love and war !/?
L/cpl. A. Carson
1973677
1962-1966
My Christmas Gift
My Christmas gift to myself - 12/12/09 the day after my 70th
birthday, Semper Fi Marines USMC 59-65 MCRD San Diego, Platoon
331
Cpl Howard Armer
MOS 2571
Cubi Point, P.I. -1956
As a follow-up to the comments from Sgt. Sid Gerling in your 31
Dec 2009 Newsletter, I too was involved in this training
operation. I was a Radio Telegrapher with MABS-12, Mag-12,
1stMAW. I recall the billeting with the SeaBees. We got along
well. I also remember an aircraft carrier arriving. I think
it was the Ticonderoga. That evening there was a real brawl at
the slop-shoot when a PFC floored a sailor for insulting his Top
Sergeant. These 2 Marines were members of the 2nd Anglico. This
was early on in the training operation. I am not aware of any
other problems during that time inasmuch as I left Cubi Pt. with
a convoy driven by SeaBees to Sangley Point, near Manila. There
we set up our communications center for the maneuvers.
Clyde Sauget, PH.D.
Sgt of Marines 1955-1961
1536201
An Additional Twelve Days
Sgt. Grit, I know all about that Motivation Platoon Smell.
After arriving to my pick-up Platoon #103 (1975) One of the
Drill Instructors ask me where I had been after seeing my
underwear that was not white any longer. All of my underwear was
brown.. I went thru that ditch about twelve times as I recall. I
was sent to one day mote three times. That third trip landed me
there for an additional twelve days. My problem was that I
didn't want to go along with the program.. I guess it didn't
hurt me. My last two years was spent with CINC-Pac in the Closed
Mess. Camp H.M. Smith, Hi. The best years of my life.
Philip M. Mahoney
Gordonsville, Va.
Sgt. (6 years)
P.S. Check out the USMC Food Service.org
Seniority On The Rock
I joined the Corps in January 1957 (Platoon 211 MCRD San Diego).
While on Okinawa in early 1959, the enlisted rank structure
increased from seven to nine pay grades. I was a Cpl E-3 at the
time. I went from Corporal to Acting Corporal, then that May I
became a Corporal E-4. They didn't have the new stripes then so
I was given the old Buck Sergeant stripes to wear. That gave me
a lot of privileges as you can imagine. Later that year, they
received the new stripes on the Rock, and I put some of the new
ones on a new khaki shirt. I made the mistake of wearing the
shirt to the EM Club at Camp Hague. At the time, I had already
been on the Rock over a year, but some jarheads who probably
hadn't been on Okinawa as long as I had called me a "boot". I
was really ticked off. As a REMF, I was not one to generally
look for a fight, but my buds had to restrain me from going
after those guys! In those days of replacement drafts where you
were assigned on an individual basis, seniority on the Rock was
important.
When I enlisted for three years then, I thought it was too long.
At the end of that time, I thought it was enough. Good times.
Definitely one of the best things I ever did for myself was to
go Marine!
I sometimes wonder what ever happened to my DIs: SSgt F. L.
Osborne, Sgt. R.D. Grube, and Sgt. J. L. Weeks.
James V. Merl
1655980
Left Handed Idiots
Sgt Grit...
Left, change to right, change back to left...
It was back in March of 56 at Camp Mathews, California, and
sitting on some cold bleachers with 224 other boots at the rifle
range listening to 6 drill instructors and 4 or 5 range
instructors tell us about an M-1 rifle. "All right you
idiots", I think we were called, "all left handed boots stand
up". So I remember about 15 or 20 southpaws stood up as ordered.
Well the range instructors said, "the Marine Corps hereby
declares you are all as of now right handed idiots - is that
clear?"
One of the instructors hoisted an M-1 above his head and began,
"this is a 30 caliber, gas operated, clip fed, semi automatic,
right hand shoulder weapon". "Is that clear?" They then
ordered the new right hand idiots to "sit", they all did except
one. So here is one lefthander still standing and a really
pissed off drill instructor runs up into the stands and grabs
this lefty and hauls him down in front of the 3 platoons. Of
course they called him everything they could think of and had
him doing pushups and running in place and screaming in his face
about disobeying a direct order----etc etc...
We were all terrified as to what would happen to private S---n
and I know he was terrified. They pushed him around, yelling,
ordering, and asking private S---n if he knew the punishment for
disobeying a direct order.
Private S---n told the drill instructors and range instructors
that Private S---ns had to be left handed because when he was
little, a chicken pecked his r
|
