"Doc" Sanchez
Hey Sgt. Grit--
For your "Marine Corps BS pages", an entry for your "CORPSMAN" section:
I was working in the Electroenchephalogram (EEG) Clinic at the Naval
Hospital, Great Lakes, IL, when the POWs came home from the 'Nam in January
1973. I felt proud to have 'known' them.
Like many young hotshot Corpsmen I knew then, I couldn't keep my mouth shut.
One day I was called into the Chief Nurse's office and chewed out for
something I didn't do. When I was asked for my opinion I gave it, telling
her to fornicate herself. She smiled and dismissed me.
Next thing I know, Personnel Office called with orders for me:
3rd Marine Division, Fleet Marine Force, Okinawa.
I was sent first to Devil Doc school at Camp Pendleton where I was honored
to meet Gunny Allan J. Kellogg, Jr., Medal of Honor recipient for action in
March 1970 in the 'Nam. He was our Company Gunny while I learned how to
field strip the Colt .45 Model 1911 and the Mattie Mattel M-16 and dig a
slit trench and give Morphine Sulfate 16 mg intramuscular and keep Marines
alive under fire.
I ended up with 2nd Battalion, 4th Marines at Camp Hansen, Okinawa.
My first day I met Ssgt. Walker, about 5 foot tall, a tour on the drill
field and two tours in the 'Nam. Life was deadly serious to him. He looked
me over for a long time, noticing my fluff dried olive drabs and my scuffed
boots and tarnished brass and the fact that I hadn't shaved or gotten a
haircut since I'd gone on leave a month earlier and he shook his head.
"Shine your boots and brass, starch your uniform and cover, shave your head
and face and report back to me ten minutes ago." I replied that I wasn't in
the Marine Corps, blah blah blah, and he snatched me by the front of my
shirt and pulled me down eyeball to eyeball with him and mumbled something
about breaking his foot off in my butt and that I should drop for 25 before
he really got mad. I'd never been spoken to like that and not since. I
dropped and counted out, "ONE, STAFF SERGEANT, TWO, STAFF SERGEANT...." God
knew just the right guy to take the rough edges off my character.
Later we embarked on the USS Mount Vernon (LSD-39) sat off the coast of Viet
Nam and after that sat off Cambodia. God smiled on all of us as we didn't
see a shot fired in anger the whole time. The bulk of my time with those
loveable crazy Grunts was spent giving Penicillin shots because they
couldn't keep Little Elvis in Graceland and wouldn't put on a raincoat when
Elvis left the building...so to speak. Even one of our senior enlisted
personnel, who shall remain nameless (but his initials are "Gunny") took 2
million units of Procaine Penicillin in the butt. I learned a lot of
amphibious knowledge and in exchange I got to be 2nd Platoon "Doc" with the
toughest and finest bunch of guys I've ever known. I'd still take a bullet
for any of'em and they would for me, Those Magnificent Bastards, Second To
None.
Pvt. Jones came down with malaria and nearly died but he hung on till
the ship got to Manila and I got him on a plane to Clark AFB hospital in the
Philippines. 'Always wondered if he made it. Thank God for the U. S.
Embassy Clinic staff for helping him.
Soon I was with 1st Battalion 4th Marines as the Weapons Platoon "Doc", a
wilder pack of rogues and hooligans than the 2/4 crowd. More Penicillin and
light duty chits. More good times.
God Bless the Corps and God Bless the Grunts. My time with them forever
shaped my character and not a day goes by that I don't think of them, "my"
Marines. I'm still serving Marines at the VA Medical Center in San
Francisco which is far easier duty than humping with the Grunts, but I miss
them all and wish I'd done more for them.
Thank you, Staff Sergeant Walker and Gunny Kellogg.
M. J. "Doc" Sanchez
HM2 (FMF) USN
Gator Navy
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I don't really give a rat's hind end for the blue side of the Navy. I managed seven years without stepping on ship. I wore green the entire time.