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Sgt. Grit,
After reading your recent newsletter, and after re-
reading older ones, I quickly realized that any US Marines that
was capable to have earned the title; also had a unique Boot
Camp or Fleet story to tell. Reading all of the stories flashed
me back to 1st phase at MCRD San Diego where as young recruits
we were learning the finer custodial arts of "Field Day." SSGT
Satomayer, (a man whose very voice could wring the heart from a
mans chest), was screaming about how a candy bar had disappeared
from his desk inside the duty hut during field day. Only duty hut
recruits and the DI's were allowed inside the hut. As SSgt
Satomayer, (I even dislike typing his name), commenced to yell
for Pvt. Brown and Pvt. Bravnik, the whole squad bay would repeat
his bellowed orders of "Brown and Bravnik get up here! AYE AYE
SIR!" Pvt. Bravnik ran to the 1/4 deck and bellowing out, "SIR,
Pvt, Brown is at BAS, SIR." SSGT Satomayer then ripped off a
quick, "Well get up here sh!thead!" As Bravnik came to an abrupt
halt, without missing a beat, he yelled out, "SIR, get up here
sh!thead, AYE AYE SIR!" Seventy-four recruits and one well
trained DI lost all composure, and for 10 seconds of the 12 weeks
in Boot camp we felt normal. Just thought that I would share my
story. We all have one.
C. Szewczyk
USMC 88-92
Aka SGT Chevvy
"SGTMAJ"
Semper Fi Marines! This is my devil dog "SGTMAJ" observing things
in the neighborhood from his OP.
1STSGT Scott A. Leigh (RETIRED)
1980-2003 (7051/0861)
Friend Of The Family
Reading about Yaz and "Chesty" in the Norfolk Hospital reminded
me of my encounter with General Puller. I was a sergeant at Camp
LeJeune in the mid fifties while General Puller was Deputy Base
Commander. My Dad and he had been good friends while growing up
in West Point, VA. Frequently Dad would tell me to go by and say
hello to Lewis. Each time I would tell him that a Sergeant does
not go by to visit a General and each time Dad would say "Lewis
would be glad to talk with you". Well, one day I went to Bldg.
#1 and after going to the Bank I stopped at a water fountain in
the hallway for a drink. When I turned around there was General
Puller waiting to get a drink. I decided to take a chance and
requested permission to speak. He said "permission granted
Sergeant, what's on your mind". I told him that my Dad wanted me
to extend his regards. He asked who he was and when I told him
he immediately said "Sergeant, follow me upstairs to my office".
After some questions about Mom and Dad and other members of the
family I said "Sir, I probably should get back to my duty
station and he then told his Aide to call my C.O. and tell him I
would be back shortly". He then invited me to join he and his
wife for dinner the next week which was both a momentous and
pleasant experience. When I returned to the office my C.O. was
waiting for me and wanted to know what I was doing in General
Puller's office. I told him he was a friend of the family and
from then on I was almost famous. "Chesty" was definitely a
Marine that helped make the Corps what it is.
Semper Fi,
Dave Field
September the 8th, 1967
Mark drove 3 1/2 hours to visit me when I returned on a visit
from Australia to visit my daughters in Indiana this past
month...I was with Mark when he was wounded in Vietnam, and I
myself was Medevaced out an hour latter the same day...
September the 8th, 1967..we both spend approximately 6 months
in various hospitals recovering from wounds sustained on that
day...we haven't seen each other in 41 years..our reunion
began a year ago by email when I saw Marks's picture on the
Sgt. Grit web site...words can not describe how happy we were
to see each other, and how proud we both are to have served
together in Suicide Charley, 1st Battalion, 7th Marines, 1st
Marine Division...Republic of Vietnam! No one on this planet
can appreciate the camaraderie, brotherhood, and the bonds of
war that Mark and I will share together for the rest of our
lives on that special day! thanks to Sgt.Grit, and
sucidecharley.com for sharing our story.
Semper Fidelis!
Dean Douglas Smith
Definitely A Different Language
I remember one JOB in particular. It was in the wooden Barracks
at MCAS El Toro Santa Ana. This was in 1969, it seems as though
you were either coming from, or going to RVN. There were many
old salts waiting to go home. Some of which had only a pair of
utilities, and a new set of greens, receiving early outs to go
home for Christmas. The majority were coming from 3rd Marine
Division. PFC Kenneth Rexford Brown, formerly Sgt. Brown showed
me how to pull your blankets tighter from underneath the rack,
by using the springs. Of course we learned that in recruit
training but KR had a trick that made the blanket tighter still
and even remained that way. I believe KR got out and went to
WalaWala Washington. I remember that many of the Marines were
"cut a huss" for not having the proper uniforms. I can remember
the inspecting Colonel coming closer and approaching a Marine
that was obviously not prepared for inspection. He would ask
where are coming from Marine? The Marine would reply something
almost incoherent, and definitely a different language. The
Colonel only said "well done Marine" and continued his
inspection. That was definitely one of those days when I knew I
had been in the presence of heroes. That evening we celebrated
by putting a poncho liner inside a footlocker filling that with
ice and beer, and listening to Johnny Cash and Luther played
the boogy woogy. The party was great until the OD made us take
our shindig outside the barracks. After paying for the beer,
ice, and a battery operated record player the only record we
could afford was albums on sale in the PX. Johnny sold for .99
and a pack of Camels for .27 cents. I remember Friday morning
formation, when Captain Wade, Mustanger and one of the greatest
Marines to put on a uniform would read off the names of Marines
shipping out WESPAK. I remember Sgt Joe Dunlap our Platoon Sgt.
in El Toro. I saw him again in Hawaii as GySgt Dunlap and I was
a SSGT. We were mounting up for Operation Frequent Wind. I
remember being "gigged" while on embassy duty in Chile for
having dust on my wall locker display. Even with that "gig" we
won the detachment of the year award. 3 Years Running. I mean
RUNNING our NCOIC SSGT Turnbow had been a Physical Fitness
Instructor prior to coming on MSG. That guy made us run like
Forrest Gump. Like Forrest, my running days are over. Our
memories and Junk on the Bunk are what make us ALWAYS A MARINE.
Semper Fi D. Womack
The Stuff Smelled
It has been forty years since I was at DaNang MAG-11, VMAAW-242.
The day I will always remember is the day a ton of sh!t flowed
thru the compound. Some rocket scientist decided to empty three
years worth of sh!t from the latrine. A detail was selected to
efficiently get the job done. Arrangements were made to load the
stuff on a truck and dump it in the dump. When the container
containing the excrement was lifted up to the truck, it tipped
over; and like lava from a volcano, the sh!t poured into the
compound. I was about 50 feet from the area. I saw it swiftly
flowing toward me. I jumped on top of a bunker just in time to
avoid getting slimed. The stuff claimed casualties when a couple
of jarheads on the detail got a ton of sh!t dumped on them when
it fell off the truck. They earned their reputation that day of
being real sh!t-heads. Ha Ha..The stuff smelled up the compound
and the smell traveled about a mile down wind. Senior officers
came to find out what happened. I don't know if a report was
filed, but I know they were p!ssed. I had to wear my gas mask
for a week the smell was so putrid. NO SH!T!! If anyone from
MAG-11 recalls this incident, please reply to SgtGrit with your
comments. Thank You and I love you all, No Sh!t.
Cushmanized
During 61 and 62, I was assigned to 2nd Amtracks, Camp Lejeune,
Force Troops, FMF Atlantic at Courthouse Bay. Due to the cold
war, we were constantly on 24 hour alerts. There were constant
drills. At one time, we were given a "Mount-Out" order. The
whole battalion had to immediately ship out, (this means
everything, spare parts, engines track, etc for the whole
battalion). We had just about everything packed already and we
just had to take our extra seabag w/ civilian items and cloths to
supply, where a next of kin tag was affixed and stored. We then
proceeded to Onslow Beach to prepare to onload to LSTs and LSDs,
In the boonies of Onslow Beach we were subjected to a surprise
Junk on the Bunk. Having no bunk, we displayed it on the ground
on a shelter half. The 2nd Division Commanding general was Gen
Cushman. His edict was that every Marine in the division have 2
pairs of "Cushmanized" utilities at all times. "Cushmanized"
meant brand new starched and pressed - never worn. God help the
Marine that didn't have them. We had our J.O.B. and shortly
thereafter the "Mount-Out" was called off and we returned to
Courthouse Bay. Not to long after that, Dictator Trujillo was
assassinated in the Dominican Republic. We "Mounted-Out" for
real and were aboard ships in 24 hrs. We sailed to the coast of
Cuba for a "Show of Force" which consisted of a parade of ships
that went as far as the eye could see, and returned to Lejeune
in about a month without ever landing.
Bob Doherty USMC 1959-1965
River edge NJ Dohertyr [at] optonline.net
New Tat
Fresh out of boot camp, I got this done in Atlanta
"Lead, follow, or get the h&ll out of the way."
Respectfully sent,
SEMPER FI
PFC GAITAN
USMC
No Sir
Parris Island Pt. 1086. C. Company Dec.67-Feb.68
Our D.I. comes around and asks each recruit why he joined the
Corps. All the answers were wrong and we each received a
chop to the throat or a quick left to the gut. When he
asked Pvt. Aultman, his answer was "Because the county Judge
thought I was having my way with his daughter, Sir!" The D.I.
then asked," Were you?" Pvt. Aultman answered,"No,Sir!" The
D.I. then asked," Why didn't you tell him?" Pvt.Aultman
answered," Because I was afraid he would find out that I was
doing his wife." Pvt. Aultman never did get hit. God I
miss those guys. Semper Fi till I die.. Pvt.Barber
Engineers
How about some stories from you.
Semper Fi
Sgt Grit
Time And Space Preclude
A fond memory of my USMC adventures was being responsible for us
receiving a telegram directly from General David M. Shoup,
Commandant, shortly before his retirement. I was an office
clerk in G Company, 2nd Battalion, 9th Marines at Camp Hansen,
Okinawa. I was on base restriction a couple of weeks before
Christmas for overstaying my Cinderella liberty one night, and
for a week I had to walk up to the company office and sign a log
sheet every hour after the evening mail until Taps. One night,
chatting with the guys on duty in the office, bored and
mischievous, I noticed a newspaper article about General Shoup's
approaching retirement date which was a day after his birthday
in 1963. I got the bright idea to invite him to Okinawa to
celebrate both events with us. I typed a letter to that effect,
mailed it off, and got a prompt, friendly reply thanking us (my
letter was signed as coming from 2nd Platoon, the barracks area
where I slept) and saying, "...but time and space preclude my
acceptance", followed by a gracious closing salutation. The
message came down through channels beginning at the 3rd Division
Headquarters. When it got to Regimental Headquarters, our CO
got an urgent call asking, "What the h&ll is this all about?".
The Captain retrieved the message from Regiment and after
calming down to some degree, assembled 2nd Platoon on the road
in front of the company office and read them the riot act. Most
of them had no idea what the deal was, but those who did were
only too glad to turn me in as the culprit. I got a stern
lecture from the CO on the importance of chain of command, but
in the end, we had our treasured telegram sent to us personally
by a Tarawa Medal of Honor winner and our Commandant. The
message was framed and hung in the 2nd Platoon area.
p.s. I found this site while searching for a reference to the
John Basilone Platoon, a regularly honored platoon at Parris
Island made up of kids from New Jersey (like me). I just
missed out on that platoon when I enlisted in August 1962.
Platoon 156 was assigned the John Basilone Platoon honor and I
ended up in Platoon161, in the very next Series.
Joe Broderick '62-'65 C/1/1, G/2/9, C/1/7 (Suicide Charlie,
and Basilone's company on Guadalcanal)
So The DI Says
Here's my story: While going through Boot Camp at MCRD in January
'56 I was in Plt. 203 (Honor Platoon) and our Senior DI was S/Sgt
Paul Stout. About our third week in training our DI had us
assembled for mail call around 8:00PM. While standing at attention
in our skivvies waiting to hear our name called our DI yells out,
"Does anyone have a relation in San Diego?" One of the recruits
answers back, "Sir, private Posey has an Uncle Ted in San Diego."
The DI replies, "Well boy how would you like to spend the weekend
with Uncle Ted?" The recruit answers, "Sir Pvt. Posey would love to
spend the week-end with his Uncle Ted." So the DI says, "Well then
go call him boy..." To his dismay Pvt Posey says "Sir"? The DI
repeats "I said go call him boy" With a sharp, joyous reply "Sir,
yes sir" the recruit immediately breaks ranks and starts running
across the Grinder to the phones near the visitors center. When
the recruit gets about half way across the grinder the DI yells
"Whoa, boy. Where do you think you're going?" The recruit yells
back... "Sir Pvt. Posey is going to the phones to call his Uncle
Ted." The DI yells back.... "You call him from there...." So as we
finished mail call and was put to bed by our DI we could hear the
voice of Pvt. Posey for the next few hours yelling for.... Uncle
Ted! Sgt. E.J Maglietto USMC "56-60"
Large Bandage
Seeing the J.O.B. articles brought back some flashbacks for sure.
Can't remember what year it was that I got stuck on a CG
inspection, but it was either late summer 1972 or early 1973 that
it happened. Back then it was a 3 part inspection. Some guys got
hit with the J.O.B, others had to stand a personal inspection,
while other guys had to do a pft for their part. I had the
personal inspection to do. Being in ammo section and low man on
the pole guess who got stuck at zero dark thirty to go the pistol
range, then to A,B, and C ranges to issue out the ammo for the
shooters. And it was always C range the farthest one away that had
the most problems.. We need more ammo, we want to return some ammo
etc. No bicycle to ride or any kind of powered vehicle around, I
had to double time back to the barracks, do a quick S.S.&S
somewhat and put whatever uniform on we were supposed to fall out
in. Not sure if they have it any longer but it was the tan shirt,
tan trousers and tan p!sscutter. I know that I was gonna get
bagged on the shaving part. Had so many knicks and tp stuck to my
face I looked like a school kid on his first date.. We all fell
out on the road in front of the barracks and what do we get but a
WM Lt to inspect us..Oh great I'm dead now..She's walking thru
inspecting guys, asking questions as they usually do, then she
gets in front of McConnell. Think that was his name, from
Clearwater, Florida area. He has a large bandage on his forearm.
Conversation went something like the following: "Did you injure
your arm Marine?" "Um no ma'am" "Then why is there a bandage on
it then?" "Um, I got a tattoo ma'am and it needs to be covered"
"Is it a Marine Corps bulldog or a EGA Marine?" "No ma'am it's
not" "Is it anything Marine Corps?" "No ma'am" "Let me see it
Marine" the Lt says "Um ma'am that wouldn't really be a good idea"
"Pvt I am asking you to remove that bandage now" "Um ma'am you
really don't want to see this ok" "That is an order Pvt remove
that bandage NOW!" Well he does and it's a tat of a bloodied
middle finger, walking away on 2 legs and said if I remember it
right "got another one" underneath it.. The Lt goes bonkers, not
sure if she wants to faint or go postal on his butt. Ranting and
raving lunatic screaming she's going to bust him to Pvt or lower,
screams at the rest of us to just get the he** out of her sight.
End of the inspection for the rest of us and he's laughing saying
he's already a Pvt how low can she bust him. First and last CG
inspection at the range for me. McConnell if your still alive
brother thanks for the laughs and the memories of that day.
Mike Redfern
USMC 72-80
Get Outside
In February 1956 I was a 18 year old maggot in Platoon 63 "C"
Company Third Battalion on Parris Island. There were no
yellow footprints. We wore our dungarees complete with all
sharp staples and issue tags, duck walked in the rain while
getting ears twisted and thumped with the swagger stick. We
lived in the Quonset huts. We often performed locker box
drill in the company street at midnight. We ran in shower
shoes and shorts with the full boxes over our heads until
someone fell and of course we all ran over that mess. We did
Chinese fire drills removing everything from the huts,
scrubbed the decks with sand soap and when spotless stood at
attention while our drill instructors inspected the huts. The
huts were never - ever clean enough and they threw fire
buckets full of sand over the decks and we repeated the
process all over again and again into the wee hours...Then
finally, at lights out there was "in the rack and out of the
rack drill" and you better be standing by the rack at
attention when the lights came on...
The metal wall of Drill Instructors hut had deep dents from fists
pounding to be heard. The reply was always "I Can't hear you". As
weeks went by we began to look like a sharp unit marching on the
grinder instead of a herd. We were at last permitted to take out
the sharp cutting staples and sometimes the smoking lamp was lit.
Platoon 63 went on mess duty. The Ribbon Creek Incident occurred
and we heard that some recruits in that platoon had drowned in
the swamps. There were newspaper articles about it enclosed in
mail from relatives.
Platoon 63 Get Outside! We stood at attention and were told that if
we thought that things were about to become easier that we were
wrong. Our three drill instructors never let up to the day we
received the EGA.
On the Rifle Range we received the finest of instruction both class
room and in the field on the M-1 rifle. I believe Chris Lumley
Burns of Tennessee who wrote in the last newsletter was our coach.
I was one of two in our platoon that fired Expert.
Today at 72 I am still in reasonably good shape. I have a weight
room and ride my ten speed bicycle for exercise. I still do
things that our senior Drill Instructor (Tech Sgt. Muldrew
taught us) Like running my sock between my toes to dry them so
as not to get foot fungus. I have never had athletes foot in my
life.
Gunny - thanks for all you taught and for helping me become a
Marine.
Bob MacGillivray
My Buddy Decides
Was "lucky" enough to stand a IG at Aberdeen, MD while at tanker
school. And a CG and then IG at Camp Lejeune. At Lejeune I spent
4 hours making certain every item was perfect on my rack, then
just prior to the inspector with the clipboard walking into my
room, the Commandant comes in asks me one question and picks up
two pieces of my 782 gear and leaves. In walks the inspecting
officer and all I can think is "D*mmit! those two pieces of gear
are out of alignment!". At Aberdeen we were fresh out of boot
camp, our first IG inspection, we're at an Army base, and we
think our crap don't stink. And then 30 minutes before the IG
walks into the barracks, my buddy decides his tie needs a fresh
press with the iron. All of a sudden I hear him cussing up the
devil in his thick Georgia accent and holding a khaki tie with a
very dark brown PERFECT burn impression of the iron (complete
with steam holes), diagonally across the tie. As desperate as
the situation was I LMAO until I cried. I suggested he put the
good tie on the rack, and wear the burned one. With any luck the
inspector would just walk by and not open his blouse. He made it
through without issue, and I found the tie lying in the sh*tcan
after the inspection. I decided I would keep it until it quit
making me laugh. I still have it in a drawer today. Every time I
look at it, I can still hear his voice "D*mmit...mutha***...
Looka this He-uh taa...SHHEE-IT!" "Th' inspectuh ull be in he-uh
any minute!"
The Same Question
I was a young recruit at San Diego (MCRD). Our first morning our
senior D.I. was moving up and down the ranks asking questions
from each recruit. He asked one recruit where he was from? His
reply, Possum Valley Kentucky. A few moments later he asked the
same question of another recruit. The reply, Possum Valley
Heights Kentucky. The senior D.I. asked, what's the difference
from you and the other recruit (he used a different word). The
recruit responded, sir Possum Valley Heights has indoor plumbing!
Of course everyone laughed! We spent the next half our doing
knuckle pushups on the grinder. Semper Fi my brothers, Mike
Kelly, Sgt. Plt 373 San Diego 1968
I Spent 44 Days
In response to a letter by Mark Tercek, I went to boot camp in
June 05 1975, and after being dropped from my first Plt, I was
assigned to PCP over in the Special training Branch of MCRD San
Diego. I spent 44 days there, and 88 of us privates were taken
from this area and put into training, as an experiment, I later
found out from our Plt Commander who I saw while I was attending
Sea School there. we were not supposed to graduate, but thru
determination and not a few sessions in the sand pits, by the
Quonset huts 53 of us graduated, I lost my recruit graduation
book when Katrina came ashore. I didn't know this program
continued. its good to know that the Corps, continued to do this.
thanks for reviving my memories, Robert Hogue Sgt USMC/Arng ret
PFT Day Came
During my four years of active duty with VMA 513 we only had one
IG inspection. When they were handing out assignments I quickly
volunteered to do the PFT. Heck I was a PT hound back then and
Airwingers are mostly members of the "six mile a year club."
PFT day came and I maxed out on the pull-ups and sit ups and had
two hundred points before the run began. When I returned to the
barracks I passed by the guys who were still preparing for the
JOB inspection. I was done in less than an hour and they spent
weeks for their part. Needless to say I gave them a hard time.
Semper Fidelis Mark W.Matthews Former Corporal of Marines
VMA-513, MAG13, 3RD MAW,MCAS YUMA,AZ.
The Difference
This last newsletter made me think of this old line:
Q: What's the difference between a "Sea Story" and a "Fairy Tale"?
A: Fairy Tale starts off "Once upon a time...", Sea Story starts
out "Now, This is no sh*t..."
Thanks for everything you do for us. Semper Fi,
Ken Heath
5711-0811
Lima 2/11 & Hotel 3/12
'82-'85
I Don't Remember
In Apr07 I visited the National Museum of the Marine Corps and on
the wall of the WWII area was the sign bearing the quote. I've
attached a pix. In mid Jun45 I was rotated to CONUSA, along
w/ other Marines from, what was known as MAGS ZAMBOANGA, based at
Moret Airstrip on Mindinao, PI We arrived at Camp Miramar, San
Diego on 24Jul45 and left on 28Jul45 for our 30 day leaves. before
boarding the train. we painted the windows, w/ Bon Ami (anyone
remember Bon Ami?), w/ a quote, "With the help of God and these
few Marines MacArthur retook the Philippines". I don't remember
who came up w/ this version, which I like better, but we were
cheered mightily at every stop we made between San Diego and
Chicago where we split up and went our separate ways. Last month
I had the pleasure to revisit the Museum and the sign is still
there, of course. After my visit in '07 I called the Museum and
was connected with the Curator of Uniforms and Heraldry and
questioned the accuracy of the quote and he advised me that the
history of the Corps has the quote as it is on the sign. Below the
sign is a Jeep with MAG-24 markings. I was in MAG-32 the other
Group in MAGSZAM. Former Sgt. Dan Anslinger, Jr., WW II & Korean
Conflict Woodbridge CA
Dirty Wet Clothing
In reading the stories about these inspections, I remember
back when I was in Boot camp 1975, I was assigned to Plt
2088, SSgt John Leonardi, was our Plt Commander, Sgt
Matthews, and Sgt Huerta, were our DI's. We were at Camp
Pendleton for the Infantry Training portion of Boot Camp at
San Onofre, well we had one of the JOB's and our Series
Commander 1st Lt Thompson Bowers was our inspecting Officer.
Well he came to my Bunk, and looked everything over with a
fine tooth comb, and finding nothing, he seemed to walk away
in disgust. Well the private across from me was not as
prepared, his display was jerked onto the floor, then with
the customary "counseling" was told to open his footlocker.
Well I was across from him and had a full view of the
inspection, this private had a laundry bag full of dirty wet
clothing, next clothing was flying in every which way. Then
foot powder was sent flying into the air. I really felt bad
for this private, and soon because he seemed to not be able
to make it, he was dropped from our Plt. But in defense of Lt
Bowers, he was a sharp Officer, as was our Plt Commander, and
drill instructors, who to this day have taught me to be
prepared for whatever comes my way. Thank you Lt Bowers, SSgt
John Leonardi, Sgt Matthews, and Sgt Huerta. Robert Hogue Sgt
USMC/TX Arng
Bumper Stickers
Any good quotes you'd like to share? Send them in.
Semper Fi
Sgt Grit
No One Laughed
Plt.370, The 3rd Btl. was known as Disneyland because it had the
newest barracks, Red brick, new & spacious. I saw it all, we had
one recruit Dishonorably Discharged. he was issued a pink suit &
escorted to the main gate w/ enough money for a bus home. It
started with the 1st day, the senior DI asked if anyone felt
they made a mistake and wanted to go home...well, this guy went
to the DI and said he wanted to go home..Need I say more. he
eventually faked a fainting spell during morning PT, right in
front of the BTL. Commander. We marched up to this warehouse,
stood in ranks while the CO. commander read the discharge info,
then we were called to attention & did an about face to avoid
looking on this dishonored recruit. I'll never forget the
feeling and committed to never have anything like that happen to
me. On a light note, we were standing in a tight chow line for
lunch while we were at the rifle range. M1's were still the
rifle issued. It was an extremely hot day, and we were so close
together, my nose was about 3 inches away from the back of the
head of the recruit in front of me. The DI's were everywhere
making sure we did not budge. Well, I got to watch this sand
flea climb up the neck of that Marines neck & go right into his
ear. You knew this thing was now burrowing deep into the ear
canal. He stood it as long as he could...he snapped his finger
into his ear as quick as a flash and probably jammed the little
flea into pulp...well, since his move was the only thing going
on, it was like a flare exploding at the DI's feet. 2 of them
came at him, from the NE & SE direction, spitting as they came
and one asked the boot if he was "trying to give himself a h--d
on?" Then if he was "trying to kill one of their pets?" I
remember it like it was yesterday, not 47 years ago. While
funny, no one laughed as we all were biting the insides of our
mouths hard enough to draw blood. My DI's were Gy/Sgt.
Delkowski, S/Sgt. Timmerman. & S/Sgt. Smith. Maybe on another
occasion, I'll relate the trial of the Marine who left his
footlocker unlocked.
Peter J. Stein- Cpl. 1961-1964 AmTracs, Courthouse Bay, NC
We Had All Morning
It's been 51 years! But I can remember it like it was yesterday!
It was about three weeks into our training. And Platoon 266
first "Things On The Springs" or better know as "Junk On The Bunk".
We had all morning to get squared away. We took string to
line up everything on our bunks from one end of the squad bay to
the other. We were so proud of it! We all knew we would pass
with flying colors! Them came "ATTENTION ON DECK!" I still can
remember the red headed 2nd Lieutenant who came into the squad
bay slowly walking up one side and down the other inspecting
each bunk. Saying nothing. He took all of 10 minutes. When he
got back to the center of the squad bay, put his hands on his
hips, and slowly shook his head back and forth. Then with a loud
voice, yelled, words we thought we would never hear, "This is THE
WORST INSPECTION I have ever seen!" With that he walked out. Well
we just stood their, at attention, thinking, this can't be! We
worked so hard! It just can't be! Just then our DI came crashing
through the squad bay doors yelling "Get that mess OFF YOUR BUNKS
now!" "You want a mess I'll show you a mess, pull those blankets
off NOW"! So off came the blankets! Canteens, mess kits, 782 gear,
all equipment we threw everything in the center of the squad bay!
Then our DI yelled "You people got 15 minutes to get this mess
picked up and squared away!" Well, we got it picked up all right!
But it took weeks before each of us got our own gear back. I never
did get all My tent pins! To this day, I think our DI asked the
Lieutenant not to pass that inspection. No way were we going to
pass a inspection that early in training. We never passed a rifle
inspection nether!
B OTIS / PI / 57/60
My DD214 Form
In 1968, I was a young Marine assigned to 3rd CAG/CAP unit
(PAPA 1) located on the outskirts of Cam Lo Vietnam. A CAP unit
is made up of a Marine rifle squad and a Navy corpsman, which
operate a pacification program by running patrols and ambushes
with their Vietnamese counterparts (PF's). The compound we
lived in was small, and on each corner there was a prefab
bunker with a 5-foot high sandbagged wall that ran along the
perimeter connecting the bunkers. In front of the walls were
rows of concertina and barbed wire for security. There was also
a wooden structure located just outside the wall that function
as our head, referred to by many Marines as a "Sh!tter."
In the early morning hours of February 2nd, 1968 (PAPA 1 and PAPA
Headquarters') was attacked by a numerically superior NVA force.
My job, along with another fellow Marine (Pete), was to stop the
NVA from breaching one of our two gates, and overrunning the
compound. During those terrifying hours the battle escalated and
ebbed. When the battle was at a low, which allowed the NVA to
regroup for another assault, Pete said, "I have to take a crap
bad." My reply, "You got to be kidding." Pete said, "No I'm not."
I told Pete that our "sh!tter" had been all shot up during the
initial NVA assault. Pete responded, "I'm not joking. I have to
take a crap bad." I could tell by the urgency in Pete's voice that
he wasn't joking. By this time in the battle, which had been going
on for about an hour plus, there were a number of empty cloth ammo
bandoliers lying on the ground. I suggested to Pete that if he
really had to take a crap bad to do it on the empty bandoliers,
and when he was done to throw the soiled bandoliers into the wire.
Pete said, "Sounds like a good idea." As Pete took care of his
business, I continued to fire my rifle. When Pete was finished,
I bent down to reload some of my empty magazines, and at that
moment the NVA threw in a grenade. Both Pete and I yelled,
"incoming," and hit the deck, waiting for the explosion. Earlier
in the battle a grenade killed a Marine fighting next to us, and
another was wounded. To our relief, the grenade was a dud. However,
as I lay on the ground, I started to smell an offensive odor. I
turned to Pete and said, "You threw that crap over the wall into
the wire, didn't you?" Pete replied, "No I didn't." The night sky
looked like a Fourth of July celebration changing the battlefield
from dark to light. At that moment, I glanced at my right forearm
and saw what the stench had been, smeared human excrement down my
forearm. When I hit the deck, I had inadvertently landed in that
pile of Pete's crap on the bandoliers. I immediately became enraged
and jumped up yelling every foul expletive in my vocabulary at Pete.
As this tirade of mine was transpiring I became oblivious to what
was happening around me. Before I knew it, Pete and the corpsman
grabbed me and pulled me down, and said, "If you stand up like
that again you're gonna get your head blown off." Paying no
attention to what was just said to me, I stood back up, and walked
over to where a canvas water bag was hanging from a tree inside
our compound. As I stood at one of the water spigots washing the
crap off my arm, and finally gaining my composure, that's when I
realized there were a number of bullets zinging by. I immediately
hit the deck, and with a clean right arm, I crawled back to rejoin
Pete in defending our section of the compound. We also had been
reinforced with a rifle squad from the 4th Marines, since
intelligence reports had indicated the NVA were going to attempt
to overrun PAPA 1 and PAPA Headquarters'. All the Marines that
evening in PAPA 1 fought bravely to stop the NVA from overrunning
the compound.
Fast forwarding, some 35 years plus, while at a CAG/CAP reunion
held in New Orleans. I was finally presented with a belated
award for my actions on February 2nd, 1968, by former PAPA 1
Marines (Mark Rashel, Ron Atwell and Trust Israel aka Christie).
The award was called "The Brown Badge of Courage." The award
was a wooden plaque with an affixed pile of artificial fecal
matter. Now my question is, how do I get this award placed on
my DD 214 form.
Robert Ridley
CAP Papa 1 Viet Nam 1967 - 1969
CAP Papa 1, Ret. USMC Mark Rashel & Robert Ridley (Ret. RSO Deputy)
Unsung MOS
Probably one of the most overlooked Marine MOS's of the Vietnam
War was that of the 0161, designated, Assistant Marine Corps
Postal Clerk. Every piece of mail that was sent to Vietnam for
delivery to Marines and Navy personnel attached to the Marine
Corps had to FIRST pass through the 0161's hands. All mail
forwarded to CONUS, attached units, RLT's, BLT's, KIA's, WIA's,
Naval Hospitals & ships, well you get the picture. Wasn't it
great to receive mail on the average delivery time of three
days. This even included the siege at Khe Sanh. Those who were
there, can you remember where the PO was? Even when the
Postmaster at San Francisco informed the 3rd Marine Division
Postal Officer that mail addressed to units at Khe Sanh be
stopped because of excessive claims submitted to the FPO San
Francisco 96602, guess what? The 0161's still affected
delivery to the 26th Marines and all it's supporting units
despite incoming whenever a pallet of mail was dropped on the
tarmac. Marines will go hungry and fix bayonets when out of
ammo, but without contact with the outside world, morale goes
right down the sh!tter. The AMCPC's knew this and unhesitant
put their lives on the line to get delivery to the mail
orderlies of each unit. Do you remember that single Marine, who
on payday exchanged your funny money (Military Payment
Certificates-MPC), for Postal Money Orders so you could send
money home? Think real hard now, how much were you limited to
send home? If you think running around all over I Corps with
hundreds of thousands of dollars of blank money orders wasn't
stressful, well think again. For that Khe Sanh Marine who
arrogantly stated that anyone not an 03 was support, that may
be true, but every Marine who served at Khe Sanh was an 03,
nearly 6,000 of them. There's much more that can be said about
this unsung MOS, but that's enough for now. Semper Fi! to all
my Marine brothers and sisters past and present.
JA, Sgt. USMC
Vietnam 66-70
Headed For Oceanside
Sgt Grit.
In 1962 while serving with 1st Plt.A company, 3rd MTBn at Camp
Schwab, Okinawa, we were standing pre blt inspections all of the
time. Pre IG, Commanding General and Battalion Inspections most
of the time. I served on BLT 1/3 and 3/3 in Subic Bay, PI.
An old WW2 Sgt told me always were regulation skivies while
standing junk on the bunks, that officers some times check the
troops standing inspection. A young first Lt. checked my uniform,
haircut etc.
He asked to see if my name was stamped on my tee shirt. I removed
my tie, unbuttoned my shirt and he read my name stamped on the
shirt, he told me I was okay so far. He then directed me to drop
my trousers to see if I had on regulation skivie shorts with my
name on them. I was shocked to say the least. I dropped my
trousers and he read my name stamped on the front of my drawers.
The guy was tough. He asked me if my Pfc chevron was sowed on my
great overcoat? I took the overcoat unfolded the coat and showed
him that my Pfc chevrons were sewed on. He gave me a hard look and
told me that I was one of the few Marines who passed his
inspections.
The day I checked in off leave and reported to Base Motors MCB
Camp Pendleton was pre IG inspection. The First Sgt. apologized
for me having to stand the junk on the bunk. They hardly ever
held one at base motors. I laid my gear out on my rack shaved
and got into the uniform of the day.
I was told to step in front on my platoon commander to be
inspected. He looked me over from head to foot. He asked me if I
were coming off Embassy Duty, I replied no sir. He then asked if
I were sea duty, again I answered no sir. He asked me my last
duty station. I told him 3rd mt bn Okinawa. He told me
outstanding and informed the First Sgt. to give me my liberty
card.
I returned to my rack and at least twenty people were copying my
clothing lay out. I put my gear away and headed for Oceanside on
liberty. Sgt Johnnie Markley 1823715 Marine For Ever!
Training Aids
I am from the Old Corps too-53-63. And I must agree that there
doesn't seem to be a lot of stories from this era. My drill
instructors must've had a much different idea of what the
Marine Corps was intended to be as a military unit. These wild
goose chases and other physical endeavors were explained to us
(by our drill instructors) as training aids or learning tools.
When a recruit made a mental mistake and was ordered to do 20
push-ups; run around to platoon area or because of a more
serious mistake, the whole platoon had to do up and on
shoulders with foot lockers-these Marine actions were meant to
teach recruits the seriousness of boot camp; how Marines must
train and suffer together as a cohesive unit-no matter the
task or mission. Plus, push-ups; lifting locker boxes and
running around the company area does wonders for the upper
body strength and cardio system of the recruits. I think that
Marines of the Old Corps living in the extremely hot and
stuffy Quonset huts and training without the present comforts
of life (air conditioning/barracks). And yes, there were tents
at the old Camp Matthews Rifle Range, with dirt floors and
field conditions throughout the camp. Like G.E. Zabel, Sgt.
Grit and other Old Corps Marines, there could be hundreds of
interesting Marine boot camp stories that haven't been sent to
the awesome Sgt. Grit Office. For those Old Corps Marines who
have been reluctant in sending in a short story, explaining a
Marine boot camp experience-feel free to share them with all
of us.
Semper Fi Sgt. Rock 59-63
Mailed to us by:
Ted Merriweather
I Kept Mine
Sgt Grit,
On your letter of 24 Sept 08, a former Marine by the name of Joe
wrote asking when Camp Matthew closed? I was assigned to Camp
Matthew as Rifle Marksmanship Instructor 7 Sept 1962, and we
still had the M-1. We did Fam-fire the M-14 in late Aug 1962,
and soon there after the Recruits were coached on that rifle. I
reenlisted in the USMC and went to Aviation School to Millington
(Memphis) Tenn. on 11 Apr 1964. There were humors that Camp
Matthew was going to close, I think that happen in late 1964?
For me that the best job in the Marine Corps, all instructors
wore the Smoky Bear hats. I kept mine when I left. Hope I helped
Joe, I might even been his coach when the was there on the firing
line?
Semper Fi
GySgt. C. Rodriguez
USMC (Ret)
Short Rounds
To all those who responded to my razing Pete Berg for being a
"Boot" for carrying an M-16, I bow my head in recognition of
your earlier service! HOWEVER, my Daddy (MCRDSD June '44)
carried a BAR and my Momma (Camp Lejeune August '44) carried
a .45. Both served in Air Base Group-2 at El Toro. Now
THEY wuz "Old Corps"! Semper Fi to Old and New Corps alike.
Jeff Howards
When I was in P.I. in 1956, one platoon had anyone who did not
qualify on the range skip at the rear of formation dressed in
women's panties and bra carrying a bow and arrow. That was a
great motivator for the platoons that came after. Sgt Perry
Platoon 67
Sgt. Grit,
I'm surprised that nobody mentioned that inevitable moment--which
always occurred just seconds before the inspecting party made its
appearance--when some sweaty, wild-eyed Staff NCO ran through the
squad bay screaming, "No! No! Brown side out! Brown side out! Not
green! Change 'em right the **** now!!"
Bill Grace, Portland, Oregon
Sergeant, USMC, 1967-1971, 1979-1981
Our Marines..............extended version.
I remember eating SOS almost every morning in boot camp and this
was in the summer of 2006! (Yea I'm New Corps) I always had it
the same way on my tray, I'd have white rice and SOS dumped on
top of the rice with Texas Pete hot sauce mixed in. Then ate as
quickly as possible. Texas Pete hot sauce is something I will
never forget as long as I live, I always say my best friend on
the island was Texas Pete cause he always made the food taste
good.
Thanks for the newsletter love hearing the stories,
Cpl. Kirby
Another outstanding newsletter as always. To former Sgt Hugh
Casey do not be ashamed to put the A in the name MAGNIFICENT
BVSTARDS I was once in FOX 2/4 when it was formed again in
1953. The Battalion earned that name doing what it was
supposed to do. I was in 2/9 EASY CO. in 1956-1957 ECHO CO
1967-1968 again 1969 I will always put the E in our motto
H&LL IN A HELMET. Best of luck to you SGT Casey where ever
you go SEMPER FI to every body Ruben B Scott 1138959/0331
Is there anyone reading who was at the 50th anniversary of the
Inchon landing? It was around 2001 at the soccer stadium in
Seoul. I was just a Lance Corporal then. Got to work with
the ROK Marines for a short couple weeks. Joe F., Sgt. 99-03
USMC Credo:
To Catch Us, You Have To Be Fast
To Find Us, You Have To Be Smart
To Beat Us, You HAVE TO BE KIDDING!
Dennis Williams
Sgt. Grit,
Well, I'm part of this Old Corps now, and I still can't keep my
mouth shut. I just have to tell you how impressed I am at what
a remarkable entrepreneur you are. New products, new services,
additional improvements and conveniences for your customers;
you continue to amaze and please me!
I know all this hasn't happened without very hard work,
intelligence and, yes, excellent intuition. Thank you for
providing what I believe is the most sophisticated company
supplying Marines and former Marines today.
I salute you X 2!
former,
Sgt. Mike Leap USMC
Cross with Eagle, Globe, and Anchor Hatpin
Not As Lean, Twice As Mean Bumper Sticker
Welcome Home Marine, Job Well Done!
Semper Fi
Sgt Grit
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