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By: Sam James

We arrived at the San Diego airport at 2AM, three days late, leaving Houston after a hurricane. Everyone was herded off onto “cattle cars”. While standing on the “yellow foot prints”, a couple of guys in the back row were whimpering like someone who had just got a spanking from an angry Mother. When questioned by the DI, using a lot of colorful descriptives, “What do you mean you’re not supposed to be here?” one of them said, “We joined the Navy!” Naturally, we all were “invited” to do 50 push-ups for laughing. Our next experience was a not-so-professional haircut by the DIs, because there were no barbers there that early. The only thing I can say different about being a “Hollywood Marine,” is that we didn’t have “sand fleas”. MSgt (Ret)

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Typo! MCRDSD should have been 3041, not 4031.
Semper Fi!


What I remember most about being at MCRDSD is that while it had its tough moments – me being a **itdog. I was enjoying the focused intensity of the training. That I did not have those thoughts of Escaping like some of my fellow recruit’s, or Suicide that was committed by 2 others (1 at MCRD plus one at ITS (right after boot camp)); this does not count the death of the recruit on the Initial PT evaluation run.
Also, in case some of you don’t know. While we were at ITS CPen, we watched Mt.MF get sliced down to about half its height, and more gradual slope; due to an incident that killed one D.I. and two recruits. Quite a bit later, I was talking with a newer graduate of MCRDSD and he was mentioning his CPen hiking over #NAME?, they had renamed it something less than our beloved Mt. MF. Sorry!, I do not remember the new name, for the loss of our challenger.
Is there anyone else out there that remembers any or all of these events?

Cpl Saathoff, Roger 2/9, Nebraska




You haven’t heard anything at MCRDSD until you hear B36s take off .

Harold Allie,

Boot camp at MCRD San Diego, D.I. 3rd Bn MCRD Parris Island ’70-’71. Everyone remembers these: “Would you like to keep some of this hair?” “Yes”, at which point they dumped a pile in your lap. Military funeral at P.I. for that sand flea you just smacked and killed. Ever tried to find a dead sand flea on black asphalt?

G. Willard 0311, 8651/0321, 8511,….,

H.Young, 0311/2311. Thought I was the only one with that haircut story. I’m a Calif. kid USMC 64/69 RVN 65/66/69. MCRD, San Diego. Yellow footprints,2am, how you want your hair cut “turd” the rest is Marine Corps history. 1st night attitude adjustment😂. Semper Fi brothers.

Henry young,

I remember the haircut because the DI picked out the guy with the really nicely combed duck tail to be first. The “real” barber asked him: “how he’d like his cut”. Reply was a little off the sides, slight trim on the top and square on the collar in back. At which point the barber proceeded stripping his locks from front to back and side to side right down to his scalp.

A. Mac.. 1/9; 3rd…1/5; 1st….’53-‘57,

I remember PT’ing on the asphalt by the airport very well. I still have my PT shorts with blood stains where my tail bone got rubbed raw from doing sit ups forever. 1968

the deuce,

PI Marines didn’t have aircraft taking off from San Diego airport every couple of minutes. Which meant we couldn’t hear a command from our DIs, resulting in pushups and squat thrusts as punishment. On a sunny day the asphalt would get pretty darn hot. Had a few blisters on my hands from the pushups, of course the sun tan lotion helped make them feel better!

John M Mason Sgt E 2/27 D 1/9,

I’ve often heard about the sand fleas at P.I. and how easy we had it at Hollywood! Thank goodness no sand fleas, I do remember at infantry training school at Camp Pendleton we had hills to climb and one in particularly that we called Mount mother***her! One memorable moment is when in the field the whole battalion is woken up by our drill instructor hollering and screaming “where is our guidon!” WHERE IS OUR F**KING GUIDON FLAG!” Apparently a drill instructor from our other platoon 2014 stole our guidon flag during the night and our drill instructor was embarrassed! He called all the fire watches into the pit and PT’ D them for 30 minutes straight while we broke camp and marched off! Thank goodness I was not on firewatch!


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