Proud To Claim The TITLE

Proud To Claim The TITLE

Always enjoy reading your newsletters and often read letters from Marines exhibiting “Old Corps” photos of themselves or relatives who served God, Country and Corps from the past. Continue reading
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21 comments


  • John V Losito

    John Losito

    In USMC reserves 48-50 went in Regular USMC 1950-1954. Fought in Korea with 1st Marine Divison, I consider that I am old Corps. No rope on EGA, and no yellow footprints, and no Ooo Rah, went to P.I. for Boot Traning, once a Marine Always a Maine. If you Can Join a Marine Corps League in Your Area. Join it, meeting new Marines and having Fun.

    I live in the Lake of the Ozarks, MO.

    Semper Fi to all My Brothers and Sisters


  • Peter Dahlstrom

    So how old IS Old Corps?? I served 68-74 and had an sn not an ssn. Am I salty enough to qualify?
    – Sneaky Pete


  • Daniel Pozarek

    A friend and I both served in the Corps the same time, 67-70. The Old Corps to us at that time was the China Marines and the WW-2 Marines. He went to Okinawa about 20 years ago. While there he struck up a conversation with a couple of Marines and was told that the then era of Marines considered anyone with a service number, not a SS number, as being Old Corps. We both chuckled about that since neither of us ever considered ourselves to be Old Corps. It’s obvious that the term keeps changing meaning. Some day those that served in the Iraq era will be Old Corps to the newer Marines.
    Daniel


  • Robert Salle’s posse

    Hello brother!! I see your entry is recent, 2018. Your WWII invitation spanned my Pop’s. Peek at Robert Salle’s entry from his posse above. Pop was 2nd Marine Division and bounced from the 6th due to a busted knee. He would have been sent to Iwo if not for a very plump guy who dropped on top of him on the obstacle course wall. He said he sincerely tipped his hat to every rotund fellow he came upon after returning home. He said Okinawa was a piece of cake compared to Iwo. Your knees might be messed up. If the doctor allows a shot of cortisone or the newer shot called Sin Visc, might be worth a try. We all age in different ways and stumbling is a real jip. Eyeball your shoes and carpets to see if a change could help. Inventory everything that’s good. Maybe it’s your hearing, hands or maybe your eyesight. Pop was always giddy at meal time and had very good teeth and hands. His hearing was only partial from all the shell blasts, but his sight was good with glasses. He’d grin with, “If I only fall down once a day, it’s a moment for surprise and joy.” I’m hoping you have more good items than not and can enjoy those Florida sunrises or sunsets. A cushion under your carpet can help with hitting the floor. Pop switched to socks with nubs on the soles since his shoe tip often would catch the door sill and he’d pitch forward. He loved fishing in Florida in the 50’s and 60’s. He lived in Chesterfield, VA his whole life. He had a penchant for Gram’s “mosquito repellent” she’d smuggle into Camp Lejeune. He asked for it the day he strolled down the long dirt road up at the family farm in Louisa 30 pounds lighter, but home. Solidarity, love and care. You are never alone. Until another day! The Robert Salle posse in Chesterfield, VA. Happy Easter 2018.


  • Robert Salle’s posse

    Tell it brother. Hmm 2016. Share truth and kindness. Pop was a senior Marine in WWII, Signal Corps, Okinawa and the Pacific, He was 35 upon invitation, when everyone else was college aged. So handsome, his 6’2″ frame wasn’t the striking part to him. It was his blue-grey eyes that came from his Salle coastal French side of the family. An ocean of hard times overcome. His 60’s still allowed humorous memories that, “Popular meant a whole different thing in school than it did when you were Signal Corps.” In his early 70’s, we would stroll across the street to bring him home from the neighbor’s house. Many of the posse had problems over time from the herbicides used to kill down vegetation. Just glad he could come home at all. He headed out early with Leukemia but I’ll never forget his grin and comment, “I’ll always know what a good meal is!” He taught me what standing in the breach meant and shaped who I am today.


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