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marines,
do what you do - come home- and live on.
your's
rev. vernon lawson u. l. c.
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Wash Cloth
Dear Sgt. Grit,
It was Christmas 1969, I was in Chu Lai on my way home after
serving with Alpha Co. 1st Bn 4th Marines, BAS 1/4 and CAP 1-4-1
most of the time in the boonies or close to them. I had arrived
in Vietnam on Jan. 9th 1969 and would arrive stateside on Jan.
9th 1970. But that' s not the story.
We, a group of Marines and Corpsman waiting to rotate,
occupied a tranist barracks on the CAP Compound HQ in Chu Lai.
Sometime during night on Christmas Eve tiptoed through the
tranist barracks and tied an OD ditty bag filled with candy,
sundries and a wash cloth. When we got up Christmas morning we
were like little kids because someone had given us something
FREE. I had cut the bottoms off several towels in the bush to
make a wash cloth to wipe my face whenever we came to a stream. I
had wanted a real wash cloth forever. I treasured that wash
cloth for years.
Sometime during Christmas morning we took time to wonder
who the brave Marine or Corpsman might have been to creep through
a barracks filled with Marines and Corpsmen who had only been out
of the bush 24-48 hours and tie ditty bags to their bunks while
they slept.
Thirty some years later, I still remember a special
Christmas in land far far away.
Sincerely,
Jack Broz
Corpsman
Alpha 1/4 and CAP 1-4-1
Vietnam 1969-70
Outdoor Theater
It was at the outdoor theater, a piece of plywood painted white
and a few rows of step-up benches, at camp Los Flores,
Pendelton,1962.
A "B" grade movie of forgotten name, the woman has just shot her
lover and says" what do I do now?", from the last row a young
Marine shouts, "police up the brass and move to the 500 yard
line".
Jim Bridges, Sgt. Ret'd
1st&3rd Tanks 1962-66
Spotted The Pogybait
I was in PI in platoon 330 during the months of Sept to Dec.
1956. We had great DIs who often displayed a bit of a sense of
humor, although it might seem a bit warped to those in the real
world.
A couple incidents have always stayed in my mind and have
brought me another chuckle over the years. One involved a boot
using a candy machine while doing cleanup at a headquarters
building in our platoon area. The DI spotted the pogybait in the
boot's utility jacket in ranks shortly thereafter. Well, the
idiot had to stand at attention with the hershey bar melting
between his teeth for a long while in front of the platoon, all
the while having the DI rant and rave about integrity. Then, to
top things off, he was put in the brig (a wall locker) and locked
in while singing "I'm in the jailhouse now." for about four or
five hours. After awhile, all we could hear was a whimper and
they finally let him out of there.
Another incident involved the DIs telling the platoon to get
their smokes from our locker boxes and fall out in back of the
squadbay. We were told to put a butt in our lips and get our
lighters or matches ready. Then, the head DI said "Smoking lamp
is lit." As we began to light our cigs, he immediately called
"Smoking Lamp is Out!" I don't think anyone even got a drag off
of their butts.....See....our DIs did have a sense of humor.....
Dick Vara '56-'59
Semper Fi
Remembrances
With all the Christmas remembrances in your letter, it hit me as
to why I didn't care to especially remember "A" Xmas, '51 & until
27th 'Jan. '52, spent dusk to dawn in a foxhole (16+ hours) in a
valley floor at 30 below. No bunkers permitted there or the other
side would have been a field day with their mortars. We had the
new thermal boots, but on orders couldn't wear them as the
sweating and freezing would have certainly done us in. (And you
feel that some 40+ years later) So they went into our sleeping
bags for the time. Before dawn, Tanks would relieve us for the
day and we could go into a bunker and get some sleep. As in every
time and place, different times, different climes!!!!
SF
NC
1108487, C-1-1
Chesty's last regimental command.
The Stand Tall
Hello Sgt Grit:
First off I want to say thanks for your newsletter as I look
forward to reading it. I am a Marine veteran with over fifty four
years experience, three years active and as my wife of fifty
three years will tell you I may as well stayed in the other
fifty. I joined Fox Co. 2nd. Bat. 7th. Marines in early January
1952 soon after they broke out of Chosen. We manned a section of
the MLR on the crest of very high mountain on the eastern front.
I don't know what the wind chill factor was at that time but if
there had been one, it would have frozen to death. I was WIA on
July 4, 1952 and spent a couple of months in Japan healing up
before being returned to my unit. I also served a couple of weeks
on Bunker Hill as a temporary replacement and didn't get as much as
a scratch. The Marines that I served with in combat in Korea are
the same today as they were back then, they stand tall and the
world knows and respects them for what they were then, and for
what they are today----The Few--The Proud--The Marines, Simper Fi.
Former Sgt. Thomas F. Williams
But Instead
I have two little stories to share about Christmas in the US
Marine Corps. Nothing dramatic, just boot camp fun. The first is
we were at the rifle range during Christmas, 1977 and living at
Edson Range in California. For many of us, it was to be our
first Christmas away from home. Our mail caught up to us and I
had a package from my girlfriend. Of course, packages were
suspect for contraband, plus I seem to remember the drill
instructors made sure in their gruff way that whatever we got
from home was shared with recruits who did not have families and
girlfriends. She had made me a stocking and stuffed it with
pogey bait and a can of snuff. She also enclosed a nice wool
sweater. None of these items of contraband was authorized. I
was made to put on my sweater, put the entire can of snuff in my
mouth, and to conduct self-improvement and motivational exercises
until all my candy and cookies were consumed by the platoon.
On Christmas morning, we had a typically robust boot camp morning
chow, but instead of going right to the snapping in or firing
range we filed back into the squadbay for an unexpected
administrative class. I'll never forget the junior DI stalking
back and forth in front of the platoon and ranting about Congress
and "the Mothers of America" who wanted to make sure each and
every Marine recruit had a piece of candy to celebrate Christmas.
He had his house mouse distribute candy canes to all the privates
and then we stood at attention, and he said "Ready, UNWRAP! On
my command, COMMENCE EATING!" Each and every private had
approximately 15 seconds to devour his piece of Congressionally
mandated pogey bait. The DI then wheeled and strode back into
the duty hut before we could see the corners of his mouth begin
to raise.
Bek "the Tech"
E-5 USMC 1976-79
One I Remember
I spent 4 Christmas overseas. My birthday is Dec. 3. Over all
I spent 4 Marine Corps Birthdays, 4 Thanksgivings, 4 personal
birthdays, 4 Christmas, and 4 New Years Eves overseas.
The one I remember the most was spent with Comm Section A-1-13
at Khe Sahn in 1967. Only 2 of us, me and the Comm Chief had
been overseas for Christmas before this. Money was pooled and
with the 1st Sgts. blessing the Comm Chief and several of the Gun
Section Sgts. were sent to DaNang and the big Air Force PX there.
Later the Comm Chief told me they got an Air Force Airman 1st
Class to buy liquor for them, as a Marine, even Marine officers
were not allowed to purchase liquor.
We celebrated with goodies from home and some goodies from the
PX. At the time I did not drink. I was assigned the duty to
make sure no one caused any trouble from over indulgence. I
still have pictures of that Christmas. One is of a PEANUT BUTTER
AND JELLY sandwich on real bread. Only a person who has not
eaten real bread in 3 months could appreciate that picture.
The older I get the more that Christmas means to me. I had
just turned 20 and had been a Marine for 21/2 years. I was
considered an old timer. Most of these Marines had been in less
than a year and were 18-19. I hope they remember that Christmas
with the fond memories that I have of Christmas 1967.
Sgt Walter E. Seneff
Cuba Nov. 1965-Mar. 1967
Viet Nam Oct. 1967-April 1969.
I Have To Laugh
Sgt Grit,
In reply to JM 61/65 thank you to the Docs, It is the
"Doc" that thanks you. It is now and has always been our honor
to serve with the "grunts". I truly feel sorry for our brethren
that only serve on ships and at hospitals and never know the
privilege of being with the "Corps". I have to laugh everytime I
hear one of them telling a story about how hard it was during
this deployment or that op and they had such a bad time (only
three new movies each week) Until they have spent time in the
dirt with the rest of us they have never been "out there". The
feeling of being the "bas!tard step-child" that we get from the
Navy is more than overwhelmed by the feeling we get being in the
field. Those of us that where the badge and FMF ribbon will
never forget out time with your "Corps". Again we thank you and
hope as JM does that you never need our services. Merry
Christmas, Happy New Year and Semper Fi.
Doc Higgins 75-97
It Is Hard For Me
To all my Brother Yesterday 21-12-05 at 12oo hrs Lt. Col. Larry
Brinkman Reported for duty and now in charge of the Marine Guard
in Heaven. The Col. as I remember him was a S/Sgt. in 1967 Sir
Drill Instructor MCRD San Diego and then came to Nam were he was
a Platoon Sgt. with Hotel Co. 2/9 Larry was a Marine's Marine he
was hard but fair. With him the men really did come first it is
hard for me to write But his absent will be missed but the Gates
of Heaven I know are even safer Larry from all the guys in Hotel
we miss you and say hello to Chesty for us. Semper / Fi Brother
Robert Stocker H-2/9 - 66 - 67. weapons
Bananas And Bread
Spent Christmas 1983 on Okwania doing 14 and 14, got wrote up for
drunk and disorderly and disobeying a commissioned officer, went
to the e club one night and drank 16 shots of JD and went out on
the town right outside of camp swab, refused to pay 2 dollars for
a beer and starting rising h&ll, happened to be a Ssgt and a boot
Lt on duty that night, they told me and my pal Zuppan to go back
to the barracks, which we were going to right after another beer.
We drank our beer and headed back however, my buddy wanted to
stop at one of those jap stores and get some bananas and bread,
on our way out of the store my buddy almost got hit by a cab, so
I tried to slow traffic down and than here comes the boot Lt,
takes our ID cards and the rest is history, office hours 14 and
14, the boot Lt said I was trying to direct traffic! Christmas
1983, I did sneak out to the USO club to call home and spent my
last few days on restriction at NTA. Da!mn Bananas and bread!
Semper Fi
L/cpl G.B. Hill
Wpns Co 1/2
80 bums 1982-86
Dink Adau Marine
Sgt. Grit,
I've always had an interest in other languages besides English.
My dad, being a farmer in the southern tip of Texas, spoke
Spanish like a native, although he was born in Oklahoma. (His
family moved down here when he was 10 years old back in 1921.)
Having lived here near the Mexican border all my life except for
three years on active duty in our Corps, I speak enough Spanish
to communicate with my students' parents, and I definitely know
when some racist little individual thinks he can get away with
insulting the "gringo" teacher.
Many of the expressions I heard Americans use in trying to
communicate with Vietnamese were actually adopted from Japanese
or some other Oriental language, or simply "made-up." I remember
Sgt. "Flowers," one of the Vietnamese interpreters assigned to
3/7, offering me some food he got from a villager as we passed
through on patrol, saying, "Here, Lieutenant. This beaucoup
number one chop-chop." (It took me only one bite to realize that
we had different ideas about what constituted "excellent food,"
but that's a different topic.)
Anyway, I came home from my tour in Vietnam with the supposedly
French and Vietnamese expression, "beaucoup dink adau" (or
however it's pronounced), which I was told means "very crazy".
However, a few years ago my wife was regularly having her nails
done at a salon run by Vietnamese immigrants. In a conversation
with one of the girls there, my wife mentioned that I had served
in Vietnam, and that I was a "dink adau Marine". No one in the
shop knew what she was talking about. Although they spoke
Vietnamese to each other, the girls in the shop did not
understand what my wife was trying to say.
Ever since that incident, I've wondered about the authenticity of
that expression. For some reason, I thought of that today and
wondered if one of your readers can answer this question: "Is
'dink adau,' or 'dinky dow' as I've heard some 'Nam vets say,
actually Vietnamese, or is it some corruption created by
Americans?"
Semper Fi,
Tom Downey
Once a Marine captain, always a Marine.
'63-'76 Vietnam Dec '66 to Dec '67
Introduction to KMC Discipline
Sergeant:
I stumbled onto your website this weekend and was pleasantly
surprised to see photos of my first assignment in-country, the
An Hoa op.
I was with 1st ANGLICO, and one of two Marines assigned to the
recon platoon, a part of the 2nd ROK Marine Brigade. This op was
a hill adjacent to the village of An Hoa and in approximately
November 1967 was occupied by the KMC recon platoon, two ANGLICO
Marines, and a platoon of PF's.
As soon as I stepped off the helicopter and dropped my gear in
the assigned bunker, I walked around the perimeter. This was my
first assignment and I was green and nervous. I discovered that
the wires to all the claymores were cut. I reported this to the
platoon CO, I think a Lt. Lee. Soon thereafter, some poor KMC
Marine who was deemed responsible for this was hauled down into a
perimeter trench and punished. He was bent over with his feet
and his forehead on the ground and his hands behind his back. He
was beat with an e-tool for a very long time. That was my
introduction to KMC discipline.
Thanks for posting those photos.
Shortly after this we were moved to the Hoi An area, south of Da
Nang. That's where we spent Tet.
Vance Hall
Tulsa, OK
Pounding First Aid Procedures
Dear Sgt. Grit,
In our day to day lives as Marines, to include those of us who
have chosen to pursue civilian careers, we often hear or see in
the news negative depictions of ourselves, as bad publicity on
one Marine reflects upon us all. My purpose in this letter is
to douse the fires of negativity that have distracted the
public's eye from our Corps' glorious history. My name is Scott
Moran, I left the Corps honorably in 2002 to return to my
hometown of Houston, TX where I am currently working and
finishing my degree in Computer Information Systems.
On the early afternoon of September 25 th 2003, I was retrieving
my garbage can from the curb when I saw my next door neighbor
stumbling towards me. I asked him if he was ok, he said no. He
said he had just accidentally shot himself in the chest, so I
immediately dialed 911 from my cell phone. I laid him down on
the ground, propped up his head and feet, ran to my truck where I
keep my first aid kit and put field dressings over the entry and
exit wounds in order to stop the bleeding and prevent shock. I
told him and the emergency operator that I knew what I was doing,
hung up the phone and concentrated on the victim. The entry
wound was high in the chest, and I could tell there was lung
damage because of his difficulty breathing. I assured him
everything would be ok, as long as he followed my directions,
even though I was unsure myself. He listened intently through
enormous pains I instructed him to take slow, deeper breaths and
to keep his eyes focused on me. God only knows where his
thoughts were, even though his eyes were staring straight into
mine, I felt as if we were soon to be in different worlds. His
body however was in the street in front of my house, and I wasn't
going to let him give up, not on my watch.
After about 8 minutes, the first paramedics came on the scene in
a fire truck inadequately supplied and ended up using parts of my
first aid kit, which I offered without hesitation. But it
wasn't until about 15 minutes after that when the ambulance
showed up to rush the victim to a hospital, which was subject of
a local news channel investigation and is another story
completely. Upon exiting the scene, the first paramedic team
thanked me for my efforts, but grimly informed me that it did not
look good for the victim. They mentioned that if he had any
chance at all, it would have been my actions as the first on the
scene that saved him.
It would be long sleepless hours before I heard anything on the
man's condition, or the situation that caused him to get there.
Officers on the scene (one of which was another former Marine)
recovered the weapon, a .22 caliber rifle soon after a family
member arrived home to the bad news. How a man could shoot
himself on the chest with a rifle perplexed everyone involved
until the victim recovered consciousness. He told police and
family members the bullet ricocheted off the concrete floor. It
then entered his chest, hit his collarbone, then his hip bone,
and out his back, causing several ruptured organs and hours of
surgery. Doctors had to remove part of his damaged lung and
stitch up his kidney, but he did make it. He spent nearly a
week in the Intensive Care Unit at Ben Taub hospital in the
famous Houston Medical Center, where he fully recovered. After
his release, he expressed to me the deepest gratitude for what
I'm sure he saw as acts of heroism, acts which are to us, nothing
more than following procedure, especially when we're uncertain of
the outcome.
I want to thank the motivating drill instructors at MCRD San
Diego for pounding first aid procedures into my head, all the
docs who served with Ammunition Company in Okinawa between 1999
and 2002: HM3 Herrera, HM3 Pagan, HM3 Perez, and HM3
Lewandowski for reinforcing those procedures over time, as well
as the traditions, training regiment, esprit de corps, the
instant willingness and obedience to orders (and procedures)
provided to me by the United States Marine Corps, but most of all
God, for allowing me to bring positive change to someone's life.
Let this serve as an example how we all can still serve as
positive role models by effecting change around us. Residents
of my street and others who heard what happened respect each of
us more and are happy to have us around because they have been
positively influenced by the acts of one Marine. Let's not be
shy, and proudly show our good deeds to others, just as our U.S.
flag and Marine Corps Colors proudly fly above our homes and
buildings. When we stumble, as we will, let's pick each other
up and move on, and may our light outshine our shadows.
Semper Fidelis,
Cpl Scott A. Moran
moransa@gmail.com
Trading "War Stories"
Semper Fi, Sgt. Grit, I was in the Marines from 75-78 stationed
at 3rd LAAMBn in Cherry Point. I received the Marines hat that I
ordered from your catalog. Almost everytime I wear it, I am
greeted by another former Marine. If my wife is with me, she has
to wait for me while we Marines trade our "war stories". She
understands the brotherhood the Marines share with no one but
each other. My children also understand the importance of the
Marine Corps. They tell me that being a Marine has made me a
great father also, through the discipline that was given them and
has made them upstanding citizens. Please remember our troops
serving this great country both abroad and here at home. Stay the
course. Joe Steele, CPL/E-4
Marines Providing Training Opportunities
With the stories of Corpsmen in your newsletter, I thought your
readers might like the following from my collection of Marine &
political anecdotes, The Good Bits.
My buddy, Sgt. Dave York was with the Marine air wing
at Cherry Point, having gone through air radio repair school. One
weekend, just before Christmas, he came down to visit me at
LeJeune, so I didn't swoop.
But Saturday morning I stood up too fast, and split
my scalp open just inside the hairline on a corner of my wall
locker. It was bleeding freely, so Dave walked me to sick bay.
There were several corpsmen and a young doctor, but I
was the only patient. "Who hasn't put in stitches before," the
doctor asked. One young corpsman raised his hand, and was
selected to put two in my scalp.
When he finished, the doctor looked them over,
declared they were in wrong, and ordered the corpsman to yank
them out and, "Do it right this time!"
So out they came and he sewed me up again. I guess
they were okay, or they saw the look in my eye, but the doctor
declared the second attempt a success.
Marine enlisted men-providing training opportunities
for the Navy!
Bob Hall
The same Marine Corps blood
Sgt Grit
I have to say, I had no idea about the depth of this website, or
the personal and proud relationship it maintains with past and
present Marines. I logged on here to pick up some OORAH gear from
my new truck, and to my surprise received this newsletter, and I
wanted to thank you. I read these stories here, and if you left
out whatever years they served, you couldn't tell them apart.
Meaning... I read some of these stories, and at the end it was
saying Cpl so and so. 67-69 or Sgt whoever 55-59. And their
stories ring true today. That brotherhood is so strongly rooted,
it can be felt through these readings. Regardless if it was that
you served 2 years ago, or 40 years ago, the same Marine Corps
blood flows through us all.
Semper Fi and all of my brothers out there digging in, keep your
A$s in the hole and them in your sights!
Sgt JP USMC 98-02 1371 Engineers UP!
The Sweetest Voice of Any
Sgt. Grit. I was at MCRD in San Diego from June 1958-Sept. 1958.
My DI's were SSgt Curly, Sgt Rakes and Sgt Matte. Sgt Rakes had
the sweetest voice of any one man that I have ever heard when it
came to marching. He picked the whole platoon up in spirit when
he was at the helm. I would like to thank these gentleman
[although I the time I didn't think they were] for taking an
Idaho farm boy and making a man out of him. They made me grow
up. I had an older brother retire from the Corps and another
brother which wished he had. I was the third in a line of
Marines from the family. Again I would like to thank SSgt.
Curly, Sgt. Rakes, and Sgt Matte from Platoon 348 for teaching me
to be a MARINE.
SEMPER FI.
Howard Tennant
Not like some gedunk ribbon
This is to address HM3 Luis M DeLaCruz USN/FMF who wrote in the
last newsletter. Hey Doc, don't you ever think that you are any
less a man or a Corpsman because you did not "serve in combat"
while with FMF and the 1st Marine Division. The fact that you
chose to serve with the Marines makes you no less a Marine than
those of us who graduated from MCRD - either at PI or San Diego.
Wear your Dress Greens with pride and put on the EG&A and always
remember, you were one of the few who earned that Eagle, Globe
and Anchor. Not everyone can earn that device and we in the Corps
certainly "don't just give it away" like some gedunk ribbon. I
have a tremendous amount of respect for our Docs that are
stationed with Marine units all over this planet. I know our Doc
saved my bacon on more than 1 occasion while in Vietnam, Republic
of. Hold your head up high Mr. DeLaCruz and don't ever feel
ashamed about not serving during times of war. As you pointed
out, the fact that you did serve is ample testimony to your
courage and moral fortitude. I will exchange Semper Fi's with you
anytime my friend. Continue to go to Marine Corps Balls and think
about joining your local Marine Corps League Detachment. Then you
will find out that we Marines look beyond the fact that you were
in the Navy (by oath of enlistment only) and that you were
actually considered a Marine - just like the rest of us. Semper
Fi Doc and God Bless our Beloved Corps.
Pat Connell
Cpl of Marines
RVN 71-72
Re-Training Command
Sgt Grit,
Hey Guy, your news letters are the greatest.
To all the Marines out there, Merry Christmas, Happy New Year and
may God continue to look after those in Harm's Way.
I'm trying to get some info. Maybe some of you guys out there may
know.
There used to be a military prison in Japan, called the Big "8".
As I understand it, It was for all branches of the service. For
certain crimes. Rather than take a bad discharge, troops were
allowed to soldier their way back into the Corps.
When I was with the 3rd Div in Japan, back in 1953. A Marine
joined our unit, that had just got out of that Re-Training
Command. You have never seen a more squared-away troop. This guy
starched and ironed his skivvies. Before he stepped out of he
barracks he'd line up the buttons on his jacket. This was all
from habit.
He told us, at the prison, every day is like Boot Camp.
Hey Guys,
Somebody out there must know something about the old Re-training command
Take care and Semper Fi,
H. S. Bane
Sgt-USMC
1103546 (Marine at Large)
usmcbanephip@yahoo.com
Famous Marine D.I.
I have read about a lot of other Marines drill instructors and
decided to write about mine. I was in Third Battalion Platoon 371
in March of 1966. Cpl. R. L. Ermey was my drill instructor and at
the time I thought he was a mean SOB. I later realized that what
he taught me kept me alive during my tour of Viet Nam 1966-1967.
He is now a famous movie star who has appeared in many movies. I
would also like to thank you Sgt Grit for your news letters. I
read every one of them. God Bless you and all of our service men
and women serving our Country. I hope you and yours have a very
Happy New Year
Semper Fi
Dan Heck
Sgt. 1966-1971
Short Rounds
Thank you love reading the news letters. Hope to some day hear
more from the guys who were in the late 60s. Once a Marine
Always a Marine
To HM2 Barry "DOC" Stevens
If there ever was an angel on the battlefield, it is a Corpman.
I have use for your services 31 May 1945 on Okinawa. The DOC who
attended me save my life. In my book, and all Marines, the
Corpman is a true Marine. I salute you DOC.
Semper fi
Malcolm T. Lear
L 3 22
A Tribute
http://www.iwo.com/heroes.htm
Sgt. Grit: My son gave me "Voices of Courage" by Drez & Brinkley
for Christmas. It's a must read for all, especially Khe Sahn
vets from the 26th. Marines or 9th. Marines. He & I will visit
northern I Corps next summer. The book has helped me plan my
itinerary.
Mike McCarthy
Sgt. 63 to 72
What We Do In Life
Echoes An Eternity
Nobody Likes to Fight, Someone Has to Know How
Welcome Home
Job Well Done!
Semper Fi
Sgt Grit
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