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January, 1958.
I left the train in Yemassee at 0230, and walked to the barracks
just up the road. I was the only passenger who got off, and I
was the only person in that barracks, so I thought.
After the rest of the new recruits arrived later that morning,
we all got on the bus and rode to The Island. To a man (boy) we
were all scared S...less. The confusion and chaos was
unbelievable. We were yelled at, rushed here, herded there, then
run to the next place. Soon, we were in the shed where we were
all told to "Git neked"; followed by the haircut. After losing
our hair, we were ordered into the shower to wash everything
off.
I distinctly recall sitting "neked" on the cold concrete. I did
not know a soul in that room. Next to me was a fellow refugee
who came from New York, equally "neked".
He turned, looked at me and asked' "Hey, who did you used to
be?"
J Cooke, Sgt '58 - '62
Rough and Tough Marines
Sgt Grit Iraq Video Photo Montage (You Tube)
All The Chain
In response to the requests for some more recent stories, here's
one from my first deployment back in 2005. At the time I was
with A Btry 1/11, and we were tasked as a provisional line
company in far western Iraq. Around late Jan-early Feb (rainy
season) my squad was on the QRF rotation, and got the call to
pull the resident MTT team out of the mud. They were stuck
pretty good, but our mechanic was better, and we had them out in
no time.
On our way back we got the call to turn around, they
were stuck again. This repeated itself 6 times. It got so we
would just tail them in our 7-ton and place bets on how soon the
officers would get stuck again. It was great fun, especially
since both myself and Cpl Carter "Super Mech" were country boys
from Oregon.
Our luck ran out though, because when the brass finally decided
to give up trying to get to Saudi, they thought it would be a
good idea to test out their fording kit. With a MAK-armored low-
back through a lake (this is no-sh!t). Their excuse: "well Cpl
there's a road going into it so we'll be fine." Roger that sir.
So when they drove off the road in the middle of the lake and
had to swim out...we had to go get 'em. Problem was that meant
WE had to drive into the lake, and sure enough we found a hole.
It took all the chain in the FOB and a few hours to get that
sucker out. My deserts are still stained from that water.
Oorah.
Sgt Steiner
2002-
Impressive Mushroom
Dear Sgt. Grit
Just reading the latest News Letter and saw a reference and
photo of the DaNang Ammo Dump blowing.
I was with 3/7/1 and on Operation Oklahoma Hills when it went
up. I was on hole watch that night and will never forget seeing
one incredibly huge explosion some 40 miles away and then seeing
the bushes move from the shock wave a few seconds/minutes later
and the delayed sound of the explosion. Wasn't sure if DaNang
had been nuked or what. It was quite the impressive 'Mushroom
Cloud'.
(The 40 miles is just a guess, we were in the Que Son
Mountains.)
Semper Fidelis
Dave Coup
3/7/1 12-68-12/69
Engineers
1965 to 66 3D Engineer BN - 3D Marine Division. A CO.
Then Went To B CO.
SEMPER - FI
Forever Grateful
Sgt Grit.
I look forward to your newsletter every week, and boy the
memories come flooding back and once in a while a little dust
gets in my eye.
Went to Boot Camp at MCRD San Diego, 30 OCT. 1958, Plt. 1008.
We were picked up from receiving barracks by Jr. Drill
Instructor Sgt. Harenger.(sp?). SSgt Crevasos, Senior and Sgt.
Mooney joined us a day or two later. I seem to remember the
yellow footprints then. SSgt. Crevasos was a short stocky
Marine. Our tallest Recruit was Pvt. Somerville. I remember
SSgt Crevasos telling him that he could grab the collar of his
shirt, put his foot in Somervell's fly & stand just as tall as
him.
I never witnessed any of our Drill Instructors striking any
recruit with a hand or fist or foot. However you just might get
the flat of SSgt. Crevasos's Saber up the back of your head to
wake you up (as I experienced once), and you could count on in
your face screaming and very colorful language. We were on the
Range at Camp Elliott the last two weeks in December. Pre-qual
day was Christmas Eve and Qual day was the day after Christmas.
Fired a 227 which was good for Sharpshooter. It was a long
march back to MCRD. If anyone out there remembers or knows how
to contact any members of 1008, or the Drill Instructors, I
would like to get in touch with them. I will be forever
grateful for their instilling in me, the self confidence and
ability to succeed.
We were issued brown boots, shoes, & brown boondockers. The
boondockers were very rough, 7 we had to spit shine them using
small glass bottles recycled from Sick Bay. (Inoculation vials).
We were also issued a Rain Coat with liner instead of the horse
blanket overcoat, and an Eisenhower jacket, one set of Greens,
two sets of tropical's and three sets of khakis & utilities.
MSgt. Herbert L. "Larry" Shaw
Oct 1958-Oct 1983
God Bless all you Jarheads out there.
Iwo Reunion
Dodged 105 Rounds
About Ammo dump going up. I was in MPCOHQBN1stMarDiv, at the
time. Freedom Hill with all it's new metal buildings was whipped
out, as well as the Seabee compound, just inside the gate. Dog
Patch was flattened. Mp Co on other side of freedom Hill, had
at least three to four inches of fallout from dust and unburnt
powder. During the late evening, my co asked me to take two
other guy's and secure the gate at freedom hill. On the way we
dodged 105 rounds laying in the road, 1st Med had all kinds of
ammo on the road . When we got to the gate, it was time for the
cases of small arms to go off. Almost fireworks. Ran to ditch
to get away from small arms. A few months later heading home.
Met a bunch of guys I had served with in Suicide Charley 1/7.
They remembered the event and said they could see the munitions
go off from Hill's 10, 22, and all around that area. Scuttlebutt
had it was a grass fire that touched it off.
Semper Fi Bob "rich" Richard
You Understand
Dear Sgt. Grit:
I was in platoon 3035, MCRD San Diego, April - July 1980.
Though going on 30-years, I will never forget Drill Instructor
Sergeant DeBord, and his tireless efforts to train a bunch of
raw recruits. He led by example and he pressed us all beyond
what we believed we were capable of. He taught everything from
how to properly put hospital corners on a rack and march on the
grinder, to how to dig a fighting hole, fire an M-16, engage in
hand-to-hand combat, and everything else it takes to be part of
the most dangerous fighting force on the planet. I have great
stories to tell about this honorable Marine. But, more
importantly, I want to thank him for making all the difference
in this successful life I am engaged in. He used to ask, "You
understand?" A lot! Sgt. DeBord, wherever you are, I do
understand now. Semper Fi, wherever you are!
Mark Lurtsema
Rifleman
1980-RIP
Outgoing Barrages
In August 1967 I arrived in-country and eventually ended up with
"India" Co. 3/3 at a place called "Payable". Just a little hole
in the ground along route #9 and one of the last stops before
The Rock Pile, Razorback, LZ Stud (Later Named Vandergrift) and
Khe Sanh. Just want to confirm with Paul Martell....
Yeah they
were really loud and it took all we sometimes had to keep our
shaky little hooches up after some of the outgoing barrages but,
thank god for those big boys. One other note, we are the ones
"India" 3/3 who saved those same Army Arty guys at Camp Carroll
from getting pounded everyday from NVA Arty coming out of Dong Ha mountain. Took us a couple of days to get to the dug in Gun
Positions but, we eventually ran the NVA off the mountain and
captured the 75mm Howitzers. Funny thing...They turned out to be
American Made!
Danny L. Medders
First Sgt, Retired
RVN 67-68 3/3
OOHRAH
That's funny as I don't remember that call being used in the
1960's... I remember things like Gung Ho and Death before
Dishonor. Recently I made a sell on EBay to a fellow Marine, I
sent a short note with OOHRAH in it. He emailed me back and
quickly told me we didn't used that term in the Vietnam era. I
had to return the message and say, that I thought that was the
new wave now. We didn't use this term in the 60's
GUNG HO!
R.V. Casto
Cpl. 1964- 68
The Real Boot Camp
Sarge, about that Marine w/ the western omelet in Boot Camp &
your awe at the fact he was served a western omelet. Please
refer to the Boot Camp he was trained @. You & I went to the
REAL Boot Camp for Marines, Parris Island, S.C. We had reveille
& chow, they had make-up call for filming that day & brunch, or
so I heard. The western omelet thing sounds like my Senior D.I.
S/Sgt. Schrader was telling the truth about M.C.R.D., San Diego!
Note:
I was issued my "sunglasses" at MCRD San Diego, not P.I.
Still no omelets in '68.
Semper Fi
Sgt Grit
Preparing For A Patrol
This is a picture of me as I was preparing for a patrol while
serving as an F.O. radio operator for India battery 3/11 during
Operation Desoto in 1967.
Bill Stansbury
Pulley Jammed
I joined the USS Kitty Hawk (CV-63) in Jan. '77, while she was
in dry dock in Bremerton, WA. We did Colors every morning and
evening.
On the carrier, (I assume most of them were like this), they
would have Colors on the closed circuit TV system onboard, so
you could watch it anywhere on ship, if you had a TV. The SOG
would watch from the Guard Shack in our compartment to make sure
everything was done properly.
One evening when the Color Guard went to lower the Colors, the
pulley jammed and would not move, no matter how hard they
pulled. Well, you know how it is, when its time for the Colors
to come down they HAVE to come down.
Now, for a little background information, before I go any
farther. The flag pole is about ten feet tall and on a carrier
is at the extreme front edge of the flight deck. For safety
purposes, a flight deck has a safety net that is five or six
feet below the flight deck and it sticks out about six feet or
so, but to stand at the edge and look down at it, it doesn't
look like much.. The flight deck of the Kitty Hawk was 61 feet
above the waterline, and the Kitty Hawk has another 35 feet
below the waterline, and since we were in dry dock, it was about
105-110 feet to the concrete below from the flight deck!
Now, back to the story...
The Colors HAVE to come down, so one of the Color Guard members
climbs the flag pole to get it down. Now, remember, the SOG is
getting P/O because things aren't going as planned and everyone
else is watching on the TV, thanking God they aren't the one
doing Colors tonight. Just as he gets the rope un-stuck and the
Colors down he loses his grip and falls. He doesn't just fall;
he falls over the front edge and out of sight of the TV camera!
Now the SOG figured the worst and about had a cardiac! No one
could believe what they just saw happened. I don't think anyone
took a breath of about 60 seconds.
And then we saw it; an arm and a head pop up from over the edge
of the flight deck. He was okay! That net does work! He crawls
up to the flight deck, gets back to his feet, back into
formation and in proper US Marine Corps fashion, the Color Guard
marches off the flight deck like nothing had happened.
Now when the Color Guard got down to the Guard Shack, the SOG
about killed them all for scaring him to death, (but he sure was
glad to see them all okay).
Tommy Ruyle
Cpl. 0311
USS Kitty Hawk (CV-63) '77-'79
India, 3/6 '79
Fully Understand Why
I went through MCRD San Diego in the summer of 1964. One day, it
was after the rifle range, we were on the platoon street doing
squat thrusts....I hated those d*mn things. One of the junior
drill instructors, a Sgt., was really pouring it on us. When we
completed the exercise we came back to the position of attention
and for some reason I flinched. I was in the third squad and my
drill instructor saw it and came straight for me. He liked to
grab you by the throat and hold you by the adam's apple and
squeeze. He did exactly that with his left hand and with his
right he slapped me so hard my head went numb and I saw yellow
stars. He slapped me a second time but my head was so numb that
I only felt the impact, not any pain or hurt. This was for a
"little" breach of discipline, but even then I understood that
even that could not be tolerated in the Marine Corps. When I
went to Vietnam I came to fully understand why. In boot camp I
was "gut punched" hit with fists and beaten with a metal dust
pan but I never got hit as hard as when that Sgt. slapped me,
and never since.
John Vater, Sgt. USMC
1964-1968
Trash Dumpster
Sgt Grit,
I read many of the stories and articles from fellow Marines and
thought I'd share one of the funnier ones I remember from boot
camp at San Diego.
June 1966 found me in Platoon 2031 MCRD San Diego. Needless to
say undergoing the transformation from regular citizen to Marine
was taking place at a vigorous and intense pace.
One of the interesting practices was to let the Platoon smoke at
various times while lined up in front of our huts. Sometimes
when DI Willingham would bark out "Smoke One", each recruit
would light up and enjoy their cigarette but at other times the
DI would make everyone put out the cigarettes but one and then
they had to pass it around to everyone that wanted to smoke in
formation. I soon stopped smoking because the non-smokers could
go brush their teeth and then take a short break putting away
their dental gear.
Well, some of these nicotine addicts could not get enough
nicotine. Of course we had a private walking fire duty each
night. If a fire was detected then the private had to beat a
metal bar against an old tire wheel bolted onto a post to alert
the area to the danger.
Near the latrine was a large trash dumpster and some recruits
decided to adapt, improvise, and overcome their lack of smoking
time. Five recruits, in the wee hours of the morning, climbed
into the dumpster and lit up! Their misguided intentions went
astray while inside puffing it up in the dumpster. They were
careful to not start a fire but didn't recognize all of that
smoke would still escape the dumpster, and, yeppers, the recruit
walking fire guard saw the smoke escaping from the dumpster and
hastened to wildly beat the old wheel with great enthusiasm
alerting not only our platoon but at least two of the
neighboring platoons that something was on fire!
Needless to say we all suffered for the smokers' ingenuity but
some of their pain was special! A lesson to all of us in our
growth toward organization and order!
God Bless and Protect Our Marines
Semper Fi
Gary L. White, Sgt. USMCR
Encampment, WY
Range Lingo
This is range lingo from the perspective of a 1961 Parris Island
Marine boot (Plt. 370). See how many ring a bell today.
M1 Garand
'1000 inch range'
windage & elevation
Kentucky windage
'snapping in'
Off-hand
Prone & Kneeling
rifle sling
sling arms
stacking swivel
ammo clip
cosmaline
100,200,500 yards
Maggies drawers
pulling butts
Count your rounds. (That's the only part of the movie "Full
Metal Jacket" I questioned "How'd he really get the bullet he
shot the D.I. with?")
"police your brass"
jerk a round
rapid fire
lick'em & stick'em
Cease fire, cease fire
Ready on the right, ready on the left, all ready on the firing
line
Commence fire
"Keep that weapon pointed down range, you idiot"
Marksman, Sharpshooter, Expert
Fam fire
"Squeeze the trigger"
bore cleaner
patches
round
30 caliber
X ring
That's all I can think of at the moment, how about you?
Cpl E-4 Peter J. Stein
B Co. AmTracs
1961-1964
Med Cruise April 1962 ( Sailed thru Hurricane on East Coast plus
was part of BLT 3/6 Cuban Crisis Oct. 1962) Dec-1962 LST 1164
USS Walworth County*
* affectionately called the Worthless Waterless W C
Caribbean Cruise Winter 1963-64 LST USS York County
Morning Chow
Sarge,
And in response to the item in the Feb. 26 newsletter concerning
"western omelets", I have this to say.
In the rear in Nam at Camp Faulkner, while I was still a FNG, I
learned to read the cooks at the mess hall.
At morning chow, the cooks would ask how you wanted your eggs.
After watching Marines b!tch about yolks being broken after
ordering eggs over easy or sunny side up, I would tell that cook
"Hey, I'll take those". Those cooks soon recognized me and I
could do no wrong with them. Never, ever tick off the cooks.
Those guys had to have one of the hardest jobs in the Corps and
got no respect. Soft covers off to you!
Semper Fi,
Dan Buchanan
L/Cpl 1969-71
Inspection Was Suspended
Enroute to Korea in '52, we were crammed into an old WWII troop
transport. About ten days out the Co. X called for a rifle
inspection. Because there wasn't space on deck to form lines for
inspection we simply lined up on the rail and, as it became our
turn for the inspection, we stepped up on a hatch cover and
presented our rifle to the inspecting officer.
The sailors were hanging on whatever they could find and
harassing us with cat calls. One of our troops, dressed in an
amazingly oversize uniform and as sloppy a bearing as I had ever
seen stepped up on the hatch cover and presented his rifle. The
inspector started to reach for it and quickly withdrew his hand
exclaiming "What in the h&ll is that?" (The Pvt. had fired his
M1 at the rifle range about two weeks earlier but had not even
attempted to clean it. Needless to say, the weapon was the most
even color of rust you've ever seen.)
The inspector proceeded to chew him a new ---hole and lectured
him about the importance of his rifle. After several minutes of
the tongue lashing, the Pvt. took the rifle back and threw it
over the side. Whereupon the Lt. asked "What do you think you're
doing? The sailors all repeated to each other "he threw it over
the side' and the rest of us in earshot just stood with our
mouths open. To the question asked, the Pvt replied "Sir, I'm
just as ashamed of it as you are"
The inspection was suspended and we learned later that he was
fined about $180.00 for the throw away.
Keep up the great work, Grit. Semper Fi to all Marines and a
heartfelt "well done".
Former SSgt. of Marines AJS 1950 to 1959
Not Talk Much
So, SGT. Grit, do you remember Dec.10, 1966? Rockpile sound
familiar? Right next door was the Razorback mountain. On this
day Mike co. or better known as medevac Mike. Every time we went
on patrol we got hit, but on this particular day, I believe Lima
co. was with us.
The enemy was battalion strength. No one could hit them, they
would go into the caves. We called in F14's they dropped 250s
500s, then send some Marines up the mountain, only to be
wounded, or killed, we were getting nowhere.
Capt. Green called me to his spot and said Sgt. you are goin'
home soon, you have the experience, what should we do? I said,
"well first get our men down, take cover, call in the B-52s and
I believe they are allowed to drop 2000 pounders, so give the
radio operator grid coordinates - oh sir make them Napalm"
When they first hit they came out of their little caves and all
Marines have field day, like hitting ducks. It was the second
one, the Capt.. saw them comin' down after us. We were sort of
happy. Another one was dropped and the stupid Capt.. dropped a
click incoming someone yelled another voice take cover. It was a
mess. I will not talk much about afterwards except body parts
were flyin' past me while I was on fire. How many were left? DOES
ANYONE KNOW?
Paul Tackes
Section Fight
A few years back (1979) I was stationed on the 6th Fleet Flag
Ship USS Albany CG 10 out of Gaeta Italy. I was just a young
Boot then. New to the Detachment and the Corps. My first night
out to sea Approx 2200 hours I heard someone yell section fight
and the entire birthing compartment erupted into a massive
brawl!. About 10 minutes into the section fight someone called
attention on deck! The XO of the ship was pulling birthing
inspections to insure the compartments were cleaned and all
trash had been dumped.
Needless to say the XO was not pleased to see all the Marines
standing at attention with blood dripping off of us. As he
walked around the area he just shook his head in disgust. When
he finished with our compartment he went thru the hatch in the
floor going to the next compartment, there was a laundry bag
hanging from the hand wheel down to the next compartment. When
the XO pushed the laundry bag aside to get down the ladder well
a voice from within the bag yelled out (GET YOUR HAND OFF MY
A$$) The XO pulled his hand back real quick and looked back into
our compartment shaking his head in disgust. We all heard him
say in a very clear but low voice (You F#$%^%@ Marines!)
The fight was over then and we all had a great laugh. The next
morning at formation it was mentioned that there will be no more
body's in the laundry bags and that section fights were not to
be conducted until 2230 or later!
This was one of the many fond memories I have of the detachment.
Semper FI!
Mark Brooks
Sgt. 1978 / 1981
Suddenly I Hear
Arrived at P.I. Sept. 28, 1960. Spent 1st night in receiving
building. Next day we were temporarily assigned to Quonset huts
before moving on to the Third Battalion brick barracks.
It must have been the second morning my platoon was on the
island. We were in the Quonset huts. Our D.I.s were Staff Sgt.
Smith, Staff Sgt Clapp and Sr. D.I. Gunny Hargrove (Scary). In
those days the D.I.s would stand between the rows of huts at
reveille in the morning and shout out the platoon #. (we were
392). We were supposed to immediately respond by shouting out
"Platoon 392 Sir". When they entered your hut you were expected
to be standing tall.
Well, on this particular morning I guess I was sleeping extra
heavy. I heard nothing when the D.I.s came to get us ready for
the day's training, exams, etc. Suddenly I hear what resembles
English but is laced with a healthy dose of southern accent
being shouted in my proximity. I take the blanket off of my head
and look up and see every recruit in my hut standing tall and
all three D.I.s looking down at me. I told myself that I was
dead now. Gunny Hargrove continued to harangue me, the only
thing I could make out was "scuzzy turd". I did manage to stay
alive, graduate and become a proud Marine.
BTW Staff Sgt. Montemarano who was a D.I. in platoon 394 which
was our companion boot camp platoon retired from the Corps and
came on the same NYC Transit Police Dept. that I was on. Small
world.
L/Cpl Wm. Joseph-"60"-"64"
Every Month
Hey Sgt Grit; The question of being a combat Marine is rather a
moot point as I see it. All you would have to do is ask a Marine
if he would rather go to Nam for 12 months for $1,000,000 or go
thru a 9 1/2 week boot camp @ Parris Island for that money. A
Marine would choose Nam every time.
Da Greek USMC 1969-1972
PS: I would bet anything that CMC had 100s of pounds in AA forms
requesting a combat assignment to Nam. I put in my request every
month.
Had A Goat
We were in Subic Bay, I had the watch on the after brow. S/Sgt
Grimes and a Cpl I do not remember were noted coming down the
dock, it seemed they had a Goat between them. As they approached
my post I challenged them to "HALT".
"Who Goes There?" The Cpl replied "S/Sgt Grimes and his new
girl friend" Advance and be recognized S/Sgt!" "Leave the Goat"
I said "request permission to come aboard" He said, I replied
"Granted" He made his way up the plank.
The Cpl who I did not care for all that much, stepped forward.
"HALT! you were not given permission to advance." I ordered
"That must be your Goat, Cpl take it off the base to were you
got it from" He looked sad that was a long walk to the main
gate. He was lucky to make it back for morning Guard Mount, and
colors. S/Sgt Grimes had pulled of one of the best get a Goose
on the ship tricks. I fell for it, and found the bird in my rack
when I was relived off the post. S/Sgt Jessie Grimes was a super
Marine, loved to play tricks and still get the jobs done. WE
spent 19 mos on the USS Bon Homme Richard CVA 31 in West Pack in
the 1957/59. Rank was frozen back then so most of us were acting
what ever rank was needed to do the Job. Grimes was a real
S/Sgt. I'm sure there are other Old Sea Salts out there who
stood Mail watch.
Semper Fi
acting Marine PFC Tom Leigh-Kendall 1649003 1956 to 1963
Mostly Sundays
During my "four in the Corps.", I was primarily based in 2nd
MAW, Cherry Point. Anyone else notice a co-relation between
stringy chicken on (mostly) Sundays to the unusual lack (on said
days) of the predatory seagulls on the chow hall's roof? On
other days, the gulls were all over the roofline. We had decent
food otherwise. Probably an enterprising Top stretching the
budget.
Keep that scuttlebutt coming - great web site!
Cpl. Mac "Thing" McDougall
H&MS-27 Avionics '72 - '75
Smokers Circle
Smokers in Platoon 1032, 1st Bn, MCRD Parris Island, S.C. would
go through a ritual after chow to get a few puffs. Our Drill
Instructor would order the smokers in the platoon to form a
"smoking circle" outside behind the squad bay. The recruits
would form a circle - in the center would be a pail filled with
water. The recruits would raise their arms in unison, take a
drag in unison, and extinguish the cigarettes in unison. After a
few minutes, the Drill instructor would pass the order "secure
smoking circle" at which time all butts would be field stripped
and placed in the pail.
One day after lunch the smoking circle was formed and the Drill
instructor went to his hooch. No more than one drag had been
taken from the precious smokes when Pvt James (Philadelphia)
called out the back hatch in his best mock Drill instructor howl
"secure smoking circle". S/Sgt Covey never could figure why all
the smokers were back in the squad bay standing tall when he
returned from his hootch. Hard days - Great memories.
Dave Ligon
2370640
Reunion Golf 2/7
Golf 2/7 Vietnam Veterans Association will hold the company
reunion in St. Louis MO July 16-19.
Contact rlmyers5@comcast.net
The Twilight Zone
I remember the 3rd batt being called Disneyland because of the
brick barracks. I was in Plt 144, 'D' Co. We had the old white
wooden barracks. The 2nd batt was called The Twilight Zone.
This was July - Oct, 1961. We outposted on Friday 13, 1961,
which has been my lucky day ever since!
My Senior DI was S/Sgt Stanley Patton and one of the Junior DI's
was S/Sgt William Dilsaver. I don't remember our 3rd DI's name
but he was replaced by Cpl. Mosser.
The day we graduated and I was called "Marine" for the first
time was the proudest I've ever been in my life.
L/CPL James Sanders
USMCR 1961-1967
Mis-time Their Ducking
I was the XO of the Mar Det on USS Providence CLG-6, a beautiful
old cruiser (keel laid in 1944) with teakwood decks. You could
always tell the newer Marines joining the Det by the healing
cuts on their front and rear of their heads and their black
eyes. Since the Det was responsible for security of the ship,
we had many drills we practiced that required the Marines to
move quickly through the ship blowing whistles to alert sailors
to get out of their way as they ran full speed through the tight
spaces. Most new Marines would eventually mis-time their
ducking as they ran through the watertight doors at full speed.
They would hit their foreheads on the sharp steel combing of the
door, their momentum would carry their bodies onward so they
went horizontal and then the backs of their heads would hit the
sharp steel sill of the door! OUCH!
Semper Fi
Steve Shi
Col. USMC Ret.
"All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good
[people] do nothing." Edmund Burke
Friendly Fire?
Dear Sgt Grit,
When is friendly fire considered friendly. While I was on a
patrol with a squad of 1st platoon, Hotel Co, 2/5 in Vietnam in
early 1967, our unit was conducting a day long sweep of an area
several miles from Liberty Bridge along the river toward An Hoa
combat base.
Sometime in the early afternoon, we were coming out of a tree
line patrolling near the road from Phu Loc 6 to An Hoa. We heard
a Marine Corps convoy coming along the road so we stopped to
watch them travel toward An Hoa. We were about 200 yards away
from them on a rise above the rice patties. Between us and the
road was a small ravine with a little stream running parallel
near the road for about half a mile. There was a tank leading
the convoy, several amtracs, several trucks with quad fifties
mounted over the cabs, a tanker of fuel, several jeeps, and a
tank bringing up the rear.
As we were watching this convoy, the tanker truck hit a mine and
blew up. Then we saw several gooks running down the ravine and
my squad opened up on them. Naturally the convoy couldn't see
them nor us either since we were under cover firing down into
the ravine. The Marines in the convoy thought we were firing at
them so they opened us and everyone who had anything to fire was
shooting in our direction. The tanks were even firing their
cannons.
The machine guns from that convoy and the tank cannons put the
fear of God into each of us for we knew that the enemy was not
firing but these were Marines, and we were in a world of s = =t.
We did not have the radio freq for the convoy and had to get the
info relayed back through our company net, which then had to
relay up the chain to get them d*mn Marines in the convoy to
quit firing at us. We were all cussing them, and yelling like
h&ll but due to the noise and gunfire, it did no good. There's
nothing like lying behind a dike, watching machine gun bullets
coming at you from a tank or one of the amtracs. Plus having the
tanks fire into the trees and having limbs fall down on you.
One thing you do not mind is fighting the enemy but having to
face unfriendly fire from a bunch of Marines certainly keeps
your attention span focused. It probably wasn't that long until
the firing stopped, but to us, every second counted. We were
d*mn lucky that no one was hurt as we knew things could have
gotten sour in a heartbeat. I do not need to tell you how much
cussing went on afterwards as my whole squad wanted those
Marines in that convey to know how much we appreciated being
used as target practice. Friendly fire is only friendly to those
giving it, never to those who receive it. I guess we were
blessed that the Marines riding shotgun had some admin types
mixed in among them or we might have been really waxed.
Roger Ware
H 2/5 Vietnam
Eyes Forward
Dear Brothers,
I was just reading the newsletter of February 26th. I was
pleasantly surprised to see a letter from Sgt. Angele Manos from
Platoon 307. I was in the Parris Island series that included
Platoons 304, 305, 306 and his 307. I was in 304. Let me tell it
the way I remember it. About 30 of us boots flew down together
from Pittsburgh, PA. I was the one responsible for carrying
every ones paper work. We arrived the first Wednesday in January
1969. Being the first ones there we were assigned to Platoon
304. We did not start our training weeks until ten days later
when all four platoons had formed. I don't remember the three
drill instructors names that were assigned to our platoon when
we first arrived. There was one recruit who was a bigger boy.
The drill instructors picked him out right away. He must have
been a bit slow. I remember him being afraid to jump off a table
as he was being made an example to everyone. He also took some
poundings from the DI's. One day he was gone and we suddenly had
four new drill instructors. The platoon did not turn in the DI's
as indicated by Sgt. Manos, the recruit did.
The reason that we had the four drill instructors was that the
first three were up on charges for what they did to the guy. My
bunk was the one closest to the front of the barracks so I had a
ring side seat as to how the recruit was handled. I remember
Drill Instructor Justice. Our barracks were on the first floor
and one day I was told to take something to the third floor of
the barracks. There was Justice and another drill instructor.
They were very calm and informed me that the first three DI's
had been charged with a crime for what had happened to the
recruit. I was asked what I had seen. I must have been a fast
learner because I told them something to the effect that "the
recruit did not see anything because the recruit had his eyes
forward at all times and could not see the recruit and drill
instructors". I was quickly dismissed so I must have give the
right answer.
Just as our first training week began we were assigned three new
DI's. SSgt. Smith, Sgt. Rector and Cpl. Alexander. Three names I
will never forget. During the first week three of four of us
recruits were sent to a court Marshall or hearing (never told
what it was), to testify. Can you imagine being in boot camp two
week and testifying. The next week we heard that the three DI's
got off and the subject was never brought up again.
Eighty four recruits started in 304 and only 52 of the original
finished. I remember my Mom and Dad coming down for graduation.
We graduate on March 17th, Saint Patrick's Day.
Quick comment on another subject. It doesn't matter when you
served if it was during wartime, peace time or Cold War time, if
you survived boot camp and served with honor you are a MARINE.
Many of us still think that we are lacking because we were not
the guys who were "In the bush". I was in NAM and sometimes fell
that way. It's like being on a Pro football team (The Marine
Corps), going to the Super Bowl (Being in country during a war),
and being the third string quarterback who didn't get in the
game, ( not being in combat). You have the championship ring but
didn't play. Isn't strange how we look back on things?
Buzz Barkovich
Sergeant, Vietnam 1970
The Eye of the Storm
Memories from an old retired Master Sergeant
(The Rest of the Story)
Usually Shut Them Up
On my 2nd tour ('69) in Viet Nam I was assigned TAD to a Forward
Outpost along the Cua Viet River. This location was just South
of the DMZ in what was designated the Ho Chi Minh trails. My
Outpost was designated Lima Charlie while our partner Outpost
was designated Lima Zulu. Each Outpost had 5 men assigned. We
had our own Armorer, Radioman, and 3 Grunts. Of course as we all
know basic MOS, we were all Grunts.
The main purpose for the 2 Outpost was for Recon to enter and
exit between the 2 of us each night and early morning. Going out
on patrol was simple enough but coming back we would require
smoke identification. The reason I am bringing attention to this
system is because of an incident that happened one night.
One night the patrol made its usual exit. We were monitoring the
radio when we heard the patrol was heading in. This was our
first time to find out that even as early as Viet Nam satellite
imaging was in use. From Base Camp a radio message went out that
the patrol had 2 bogeys following them in. The patrol was
instructed to give chase and try to capture them. Yeah sure,
night time and these guys were behind them. Needless to say the
bogeys got away. It was nice to know though that this technology
was being used because it might have been a different story had
they made it through our line.
On another note if I have time for one more, during my time in
this Outpost one day we had a new 2nd Lieutenant (Peanut Butter
Bar) making his way out to our Outpost. You have to understand a
swath had been cut from about a mile back and about 20' wide to
where our post was. Otherwise it was well wooded on both sides.
The whole time, all we could see were those bars shining in the
Sun that whole distance as this Lieutenant made his way to our
Outpost.
Once he arrived his first comment was, "So this is Lima Charlie,
I hear you guys every night on the radio requesting to engage
the enemy, I just had to come out here and meet you". Of course
we couldn't resist in telling him how we appreciated his praise
but he may not being hearing us again depending on his getting
safely back down that mile long open stretch without attracting
any snipers. The best we could do for him was have him remove
his bars and cover him as far down the path as possible. Happy
ending, he made it back but learned an important lesson.
We did draw our usually night time visitors but it had always
been a game between us and them. We would set our claymores (Sp)
and they would sneak in and turn them around on us. We would
reset them with a booby trap and they would move our trap.
Needless to say I can't remember us ever firing off those
claymores (Sp). They were pretty brazen at night, you could
actually hear them across the river so we would lob a few M79
rounds their way. Usually shut them up for awhile so we could
catch some well deserved shut eye.
Semper Fi
Staff Sergeant
Chuck Messina
3rd Mar. Div.
Dong Ha, Viet Nam
Bring In The Heard
Interesting story about the guy that didn't know what he was
doing while drilling.
I went to PI in Aug. of 1960 and was assigned to Platoon 386.
All we were taught was the 8 Man Squad Drill, and we became the
masters of it, with one exception. S/Sgt Ribblett was marching
us through the 2nd Bat. during the first 2 weeks of being on the
Island when we broke step. God help us because one knows the
consequences of this flub-up. Got to the barracks and the guide-
on opened the door and yelled "the barn doors open, bring in the
heard". Never again did we break step. Our DI's got their rocks
off marching us through the 1st and 2nd Bat. areas, never
calling cadence, but watching other platoons break step just
listening to us march. We became so good, that at our final
field inspection, the inspecting Officer put down his clipboard
and told our SDI that we were the best that he had ever seen.
When we got back to the barracks, we were called "Girls" for the
rest of the day, the highest compliment that we had received. We
were also told that the Corps was abandoning the 8 Man Squad
Drill in favor of the LPM, and that we were among the last
platoons to use it.
I never saw this type of drill again, and that's a shame. When
performed properly it was the most beautiful thing to witness.
We made our DI's happy in our performance. SDI S/Sgt Gallagher,
DI's S/Sgt Ribblett and Sgt. Foster. I have never forgotten
them, but would never put up with their sh!t again.
R. J. Boyle
ONTOS
Sgt Grit
The ONTOS in your video brought to mind my time with 1stATBn
from July 67 to Dec 67. Our CP was a few miles outside DaNang
and our letter companies were in support of various infantry
units in 1stMarDiv. The Battalion was disbanded in Dec 67 with
most ONTOS being attached to 1st Tank Bn and sent North to the
DMZ. I am including a few pix which may be of interest to other
readers.
Semper Fi
Robert Bailey
Captain USMC (Ret)
Lebanon, Missouri
Dong Ha Ammo
The Dong Ha ammo dump story that you had on your Feb 26th
newsletter prompted me to send you these images taken mostly
from the 3rd Tank Battalion maintenance ramp on June 20, 1968.
It was an amazing pyrotechnics display of the magnitude that
I'll never experience again. Many years later I read a very
interesting story that was published in the official history,
"The US Marine Corps in Vietnam - 1968" printed by the History
and Museums Division, HQ US Marine Corps. On Page 360 they write
that the North Vietnamese, fearing that the rumors of a US
invasion into their country was about to take place, fired a
massive artillery bombardment into the huge Dong Ha Combat Base
striking the ammunition dump that was located at the far
southern edge of the base. This left the 3rd Mar Div
"desperately short" of artillery ammunition and the planned
invasion was delayed.
S/F
-John
First Flag
Thought I'd drop a line or two to the Sarge. When the war broke
out I had tried to enlist in New York City but the enlistment
lines went around the block. So I decided to go back to my home
in Saratoga Springs, NY area. And headed for Glens Falls, NY
where there was a Marine Corps office for enlistments.
I had to go looking for the enlistment Sarge. There were no
lines. Several months later I ended up at Parris Island. We
snapped in with 03 Springfield, just when we were getting the
hang of the rifle they handed us the 'Garand'.
I ended up with a nice black right eye the day before we fired
for 'record'. Got hit with the base plate when the rifle kicked.
Wasn't use to the rifle yet. Was firing expert before and ended
up just qualifying. I have forgotten the platoon number that I
was in. But I think that it was # 634 or something very close
too that number. That was 67 years ago. Give me a break.
Campaigns were tail end of Guadalcanal, Bougainville, [the
forgotten war] liberator of 'Guam' and finally Iwo. Landed on
the 23 of Feb and witnessed the first flag raising. My friend
''Charlie Lindberg'' was one of the Marines who raised the first
flag. After many years we met again back in 2000, at a military
park dedication in South Corinth, NY. Charlie was one of the
guest speakers. Semper Fi Sgt. Jim Smith Jr.
Incidentally my final assignment was at the 'Brooklyn Navy Yard
Brig. As Sgt. of the Guard.
Jim Smith
Tears To My Eyes
Semper Fi Sarge, just thought I'd check to make sure that you
know that Charles Lindberg, and I had a nice talk back in June
2000 when he was invited to speak at a Veterans Memorial Park
dedication in Corinth, NY. As you may well know that Charlie
has passed away since then, I was with the 3rd. Div when we
landed on the beach at Iwo and working on one of my tanks trying
to get the track back on because of the volcanic ash. I told
Charlie I looked up at the flag as it went up and it brought
tears to my eyes to see that flag going up.
Semper fi --- Sgt. Jim Smith Co. B 3rd Tank Battalion, 1st.
Platoon.
At The Range
Sgt. Grit,
I read your letters with a great deal of enjoyment, and at times
sadness. In the short time I have received your newsletter, I
have not read any comments about basic rifle training. We were
all trained as basic riflemen regardless of our future MOS's. My
generation trained and humped the M-14. To me, the best long gun
the Corps issued ( except for the M1 Garand or the Springfield
03A3). The M-14 with optics could reach out and touch some-one.
I remember the barracks at the range. You have to understand
that we were still part of the long line of the Old Corps
Marines to rack in the Squad Quonset huts at M.C.R.D. In door
head & showers on the same deck that you racked out on. You had
to be there. If memory serves, we were bused to Camp Pendleton.
All transportation on Base was in Cattle Cars. Beat any and all
amusement rides to date. I may have the C.C.'s confused with
Staging & not Boot Camp. (we may have hiked.) Memories kind of
ride together. But, if you want to lose a fight before it
starts, ride in the back of a Cattle Car with a young L/Cpl who
just received a Dear John letter from his wife/girl friend back
home in the Ozarks.
I remember well the Basic Rifle Training. The snapping in. Sight
Picture & Triangulation. Windage & Elevation. Making & marking
targets. The crack as the round passed overhead when pulling
butts. Record Book. Getting into extremely un-natural positions
with Sling & Rifle. Take up all the slack in the trigger &
SQUEEEEEEZE. Chow was excellent. Even the K-rats at the range
were outstanding. (this from a guy that considers road kill
acceptable on the menu.) Record Day. Three qualifications.
Expert. Sharpshooter. Marksman (the toilet seat.) Every boot was
shooting for the crossed rifles.
Blacking out the sights. NOT CLEANING our weapons prior to
Record day. Smoking all of my cigarettes at once when the
smoking lamp was lit. Nah, none of us boots were under any
pressure. Our Drill Instructors made it very clear to us that
our first score stayed in our jackets to the end of days. And
that every Officer, from a Butter Bar (2nd Lt.) to the
Commandant of the Marine Corps would look at our Recruit
Training Rifle score prior to any part of our jacket. ( I still
believe that.)
Was it me, or did our Drill Instructors cut us some slack during
that time? Nah, I'm just getting pre-Alzheimer. Cutting boots
slack, NOT in the manual. Period. We would be up prior to the
sun making an appearance, sitting on the deck. Back to back. And
fall asleep immediately. Only Marines, (past and present) are
qualified for this natural behavior. After the first time I was
allowed live fire, I decided to name my first born Springfield.
(No, never came up. I married and Italian. Springfield not even
an option. As payback, I named my wife's dog Fart.)
Yes, I shot Expert. For the Corps and my Grandfather, who would
have unscrewed my head from my shoulders and done un-natural
things to me prior to screwing it back on if I had come home
with a toilet seat on my chest.
Sgt. T. Petersen 1967-
I Gave Them Food
While serving as a fire team leader with Company K, Third
Battalion, First Marine Division in Vietnam, my unit detained a
Vietnamese family, We held them overnight, planning to take
them to Da Nang for interrogation the next day.
Later that day, I saw some of the soldiers abusing the family
members and at one point, they seemed ready to abuse the 12-
year-old-girl.
I stepped up and told them that if they didn't leave the family
alone, I would shoot them.
The lieutenant in charge said that since I 'love' them so much,
I would be in charge of guarding them all night and into the
following day.
I gave them food and warm blankets for the night and gave candy
to the children and cigarettes to the adults. The next morning
they were taken to Da Nang and I never heard anything else about
them.
Two months later, on Sept. 10, 1968 during operation Houston IV,
I was on a night patrol. I was instructed to take my squad
several miles from camp and set up an ambush.
On the way, we passed through a village. The same family I had
helped ran out of a shack, telling me not to go further because
the enemy was waiting for us.
I took my squad around the other side of the village where
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