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I remember in the summer of 1975, as I was doing a lovely 3
month stint in beautiful PISC, my company, "B" Company, 1st RTR
Bn, was having it's off season uniform inspection. Full wool
uniform in the heat of August. What misery!
Anyway, then Commandant of the Marine Corps General Louis H.
Wilson, was visiting Parris Island and decided he wanted to
"troop the line". As he went walking down through the different
ranks, who should he stop in front of but li'l ol' me. As he
turned to face me, all I could see (as I dared not do anything
but stare straight ahead), was this HUGE fruit salad on his
chest, and the MOH sticking out like a beacon of light. Well,
this ol' priv went weak in the knees, and was sweating bullets.
I was scared s--tless!
He asked me what one of my General Orders was (can't remember
that well), and I managed a weak reply. He stood there for a
minute, and then he said, "Don't worry son, it's only a
medal"....THAT I will remember all my life! Semper Fi, Marines!
Charles S. Lloyd
USMC 1975-1983
P.S. I had to PT until the SDI got tired when we got back,
because I didn't "sound off"...
Meet a Marine
Meet Pat Burris - WWII and Korea Veteran
See the Interview
Managed To Smuggle
RE: Operation STEEL PIKE - shipped out of Charleston, SC on
board the APA Geiger with MACS-6 in 1963. First day out we hit
one h&ll of a storm. First lesson learned - always be the 1st
person along the rail and never downwind when launching your
guts. Below decks we were gathered around a GI can looking like
a bunch of toy birds bobbing up and down into a water glass
except we were filling the can, not emptying it.
Working on the beach watching as a transport dropped a pallet of
seabags and a water buffalo into the water instead of into a
mike boat. Thought it was funny until they dropped a pallet into
the drink which contained part of our radar system.
Watched some idiot try to push a broached mike boat off the
beach with a rough terrain forklift. Was absolutely sure the
beachmaster was going to have a heart attack after the driver
punched his forks through the side of the boat.
After eating C rats for the first two days, finally had to take
a crap - naturally it happened while walking perimeter guard at
night. Found what I thought was a secluded area, squatted,
strained, relieved and looked up to see a couple of the Spanish
police staring and laughing at me.
Pulled liberty in Barcelona enjoying the "night life". We had
one guy with us who spoke Spanish and several of us kept
interrupting his conversation with a young lady with our
requests to translate what our companions were saying.
Too late I found out what a Zippo lighter with the Marine Corps
emblem was worth (use your imagination). Somehow we managed to
smuggle an extraordinary amount of rum aboard ship. A couple of
days out of port the ship store ran out of coke and we were
"forced" to drink the rum straight. To this day cannot drink
rum!
RE: Base AUTO DECALS - In 1967, the automobile base decals at
MCAS(H) New River were red background for enlisted and yellow
background for officer (or the reverse, don't remember for
sure). In any event, was sent to MCAS Beaufort as part of a CG
inspection team along with my maintenance officer.
We drove from New River to Beaufort in my officers car and I was
driving when we hit the gate at Beaufort. The gate sentry
saluted us and asked to see my ID. When he saw that I was
enlisted, he asked for the written permission for me to be
driving an officer's vehicle. I told him that I didn't have such
written authorization and didn't really think I needed it.
Needless to say his attitude became slightly heavy handed until
my boss (CWO Katch, who had been sitting quietly in the
passenger seat) intervened. Seems the base decal color scheme
for Beaufort was the opposite of New River. Guess that was one
of the reasons why (in addition to fiscal) they eventually
switched to standard DOD base decals.
RE: PISC BARRACKS - in 1962, 2nd RTR was wooden barracks and 3rd
RTR was brick. Rifle range was also wooden barracks. Don't know
what 1st RTR was (and didn't really care)
R.M. NEUMANN
MGYSGT Retired
1962 - 1984
Once You Go Green
This is for Sgt. Garza, who asked about female corpsmen in Viet
Nam. I got home about 30 minutes ago after giving a party for
the Training Staff at the Field Medical Service School at Camp
Pendleton. As a former FMF Corpsman, I had the opportunity to
do something for this group whose predecessors trained me as
well as thousands of other corpsmen who found themselves part of
the Marine Corps.
There were two female corpsmen in attendance, both of whom had
attended Field Med School ten years or so ago. This was the
first I had heard of females becoming FMF corpsmen and I spent
some time chatting with them about their experiences. I did not
ask, but I am quite certain that they do not function in combat
roles as actual company corpsmen, but I have no doubt that they
have the capabilities to do so.
As for Viet Nam, the social and political atmosphere of the time
precluded females from combat roles, but I do know that there
were a number of them stationed at the Naval hospital in DaNang,
known as the Naval Support Activity, or NSA DaNang for short.
You might want to ask her if that is where she was stationed.
Hospital personnel there worked night and day providing state-
of-the-art emergency medical care for our wounded comrades,
often getting them onto operating tables within thirty minutes
of being wounded. Helicopters provided the transportation and
the first-class medical care meant a survival rate much higher
than anything previously known in warfare. I suspect that if
your friend worked at NSA DaNang, she can tell you stories that
will make your hair curl.
I am glad to see the constant stream of letters from and about
Navy Corpsmen. We consider ourselves part of The Corps, and as
was stated to me just this afternoon, "Once you go Green, you
never want to go back."
Doc Thompkins, HMC
RVN 68-69
Chesty
Chesty with a group of Marines
DI Motivation and Inspiration
We all have something our DI's said to us or made us do. Something that inspires and motivates us to this day.
Send me your example. info@grunt.com
Semper Fi
Sgt Grit
Firewatch In The Ladderwells
To Brought Shivers:....There must have been a lot of ships that
took us over there, In June of 1967 I was on the USS POPE, 1000
Marines and 4000 US Army, its a good thing no fights broke out
because we had the Army outnumbered. Spots on deck were bought
and sold; some guys had it worked out so buddies would relieve
them to save the spots. We had to stand FIREWATCH in the
ladderwells, with the upper hatch open, and when in rough water,
you could watch the stars moving back and forth...back and
forth, even if that didn't get you sick, the smell of everyone
else's vomit got you going.
Its amazing what heavy seas will do to a ship....on Carib 3-66
on the USS Boxer, I saw waves come over the flight deck during
Hurricane Isabel...why I went up there I can only attribute to
sheer stupidity, they had to unclench my fingers from a tie down
chain to get me below the flight deck. We stayed extra time to
give Aid & Relief to the Dominican Republic ....Isabel tore
havoc through that country. I was working in the butcher shop
making sandwiches for nearly a week for the people that went
ashore.
Mark Gallant.....Chu Lai 68
Trip Of A Lifetime
Don,
I recently completed, with 10 other former or retired Marines,
all Vietnam veterans, a 14 day visit of Vietnam. Arriving in
HaNoi on 27 April then traveling to and around the old I Corps
area from Chu Lai to the DMZ. We visited all of the significant
Marine positions and traveled what used to be part of the Ho Chi
Minh trail from Khe Sanh to DaNang through the A Shau Valley (a
10 hour bus trip).
It was a trip of a lifetime that has given me memories much more
pleasant than the ones I have carried since my first trip there
40 years ago.
The attached photo was taken 3 May 2009 inside the Citadel, Hue
City Vietnam.
Left to right as you looking at the picture are Robert Puskar,
Kevin Kennedy, Michael Lewzader, Robert Ballou, Kenneth Prewett
(holding Grit's catalog) Phil Sonner, and John Harrington.
Thanks for you interest,
S/F
Kenny
Note: Or you might say: 2nd Trip of a lifetime.
Sgt Grit
Guardian Angel
Sgt Grit,
In December of 1973 I had moved my wife and kids back to Omaha,
Ne. from Cherry Point, N.C. and was on leave before I left for
Okinawa.
I had received orders for a Communication Battalion at Camp
Hanson 3rd Marine Division...This is where my story begins.
My wife and I had only been married for 3 years had 2 kids and
had lost the 3rd to medical complications while I was in radio
school in San Diego and were and still are deeply devoted to
each other, On top of that we were just kids ourselves trying to
survive in a world of liars and thieves.
I had been in the Corps. for a year, survived Basic training,
finished first in my class in both Radio school and Microwave
Equipment school and thought I was bullet proof, larger than
life, a king among peasants.
The cost of moving my family to North Carolina and back to Omaha
in a six month period had left us broke, our only choice was
that they stayed with her folks until she could get a job and a
place for her and the children.
This was really hard for me, the feeling that I was abandoning
my wife and children ran hard against the pride of being a
Marine and the things I felt of responsibility that was taught
to me by my Step Father.
The family threw a going away party the day before I flew to
California to report for transit to Okinawa. I got plastered and
was so drunk I barely remember saying goodbye at the airport in
Omaha. Although my clouded brain from the boozes made it easier
for me, years later as I look at the pictures she took I could
see she was terrified for both her and me, and was living a
living h&ll. Oh how I wish it all could have been glorious like
you read in the books.
I flew to LAX in Los Angeles, my flight oversea was from San
Bernardino, I had no idea the distance between the two and never
gave it any thought until I landed at LAX.
On finding out it was 60 miles away, I was floored.... No money,
no family, no friends and only 8 hrs until the plane left I was
in a bad way.....
Standing in the middle of the LAX Terminal with everything I own
over my back and a lost look on my face I must have stuck out
like a sore thumb. Three Kids with long hair with piece signs
around there necks came up and asked if I need help.... I
explained the problem and they said they were headed that way
about 10am and if I wanted I could ride with them.
They were driving a old Dodge Van that was used by the Hippy
types of the time, I didn't trust them but they were my only
hope at the time. We put my bag in the rear and I seat in the
seat next to the slider door, all the time listening to them
talk of there s&x/drugs exploits, I was sure it was all being
displayed just for me. They drove around for hours every now and
then I would ask if they were headed that way soon, they would
just say yea pretty soon.
Along about 1 pm they stopped parked on the street in front of
this house that looked like a drug house, they said they had to
pick someone up and if I'd like to come in, I said no I'd just
wait in the van and asked if they would be long and reminded
them I had to be there at 4pm.
I must have been setting there for a hour and finally decided to
try to find another way. I got out of the Van, grabbed my bag
and was standing there on the street probably with a dumb look
on my face.
Suddenly I heard a voice over my should from the sidewalk that
said, "Marine do you have a problem" I said yes Sir and
proceeded to explain.
He was a Big Black Man, well dressed in suit and tie sort of
fatherly figure, and from the moment he appeared, I had felt
like I had known him all my life.
He said he was a retired Marine and now worked as a salesman and
that his next stop was San Bernardino he could get me there on
time... I was relieved with that and told him about the hippy
boys and he just said he knew...for some reason I never asked
him how he knew, but at the time I didn't care either.
As we drive traffic was terrible, We made small talk but never
once talked about anything but the Corps.
As we arrived at the gate of the air station it was 4:15 pm and
I was late.... Something that I didn't notice at the time and
remembered later was as we met the guard at the gate we never
stopped, and the guard saluted as we entered, but my mind was on
getting to my gate and reporting.
He drove right to the Building as if he had been there before,
said we were there and he would come in and explain the officer
in Charge that we had been stuck in traffic.
He talked to the NCOIC and waved me over and said "ok Marine you
may now report"..... After reporting in I turned to thank him
and he was gone.... I looked all around and he was no where to
be found, I turned back around and asked the NCOIC what happened
to the big Black Man I came in with? He looked at me and said
"What Black Man" You reported Alone....and you must have a
Guardian Angel because your almost 1/2 hour late for this fight
and they always leave on time, but this one was delayed for some
reason....Get Aboard Marine.
As I think of this story it still gives me chills and brings
tears to my eyes.... I'm here to tell you, you are not here
alone. I never thought of getting his name, or saying thanks,
but I do everyday now as I watch my Grandsons grow into men...
and hope and pray he is watching over them also....
Semper Fi
Adapt, improvise, and overcome
Dale Peterson
Elkhorn, Nebraska
CPL of the Marines
Beirut
My Name is Jack MacDonald (L/cpl) I'm a Beirut Veteran I served
twice with Shore Party Plt. MSSG 24, 24th MAU, HMM 162. Here is
a copy of my Beirut memorial Tattoo. Thank you in advance.
50th Reunion
Sgt. Grit,
On behalf of myself and the members of graduating Platoon 2030
from Parris Island in 1959, we all say a big thanks to you and
your wonderful staff for our successful 50th reunion on May 7th
and 8th /09 in Beaufort S.C. and the great time we had together.
Your contribution was very special, and well received by all
members.
The special made T-shirts for the reunion were a big hit. (in
photo)
Thanks again & Semper Fi
Dave Shatzer Sgt. E-5 PI - 58/59
Left Hand Salute
I was in platoon 3120 Mike Company MCRD San Diego from July to
October 1997. During our "free" time, the time we had before
lights out to Shave, Shower, get uniforms ready, and those type
of things, we were told not to call Attention On Deck when an
officer came into the Squad bay.
We had a Recruit; we will call him Recruit M, to save some
dignity. He was a big, tall, goofy guy, and not very smart. So
Recruit M is coming out of the head after his shower one night
in nothing but a towel and shower shoes with his hygiene bag
under his right arm. Now the towels we had were not very large
to say the least. In fact they were closer to the size of a Hand
towel. As Recruit M gets to the Quarterdeck an Officer comes on
deck, not only does Recruit M Call Attention on Deck, he lets go
of his towel, and salutes the officer with his Left hand!
Standing there naked waiting for the officer to respond. The
young LT. turned around and walked out. The D.I. on duty got a
call shortly there after and we all paid for Recruit M's
mistake. But it was funny to see!
W. Scott Fomin
Sgt USMC
July 1997-October 2005
The REAL NCIS
The REAL NCIS at Camp Pendleton
this was the annual toy run and toys for tots 2008
Semper Fi
"choo choo"
Sgt Marines
68-74
RVN 70-71
Singing This Song
I began my 6 yrs. in the Corps at MCRD San Diego, Plt. 1003
April 1966. One of my fondest memories during my 6 yrs. occurred
there. My Senior D.I., S/Sgt Facuri, a Hawaiian, taught us a
Hawaiian love song. We sang it in Hawaiian as we marched, after
the MCRD settled down for the day, just before dark. One night
we were marching, near the end of our training, so we were good,
and singing this song. We marched past the headquarters bldg.
and Gen. Hochmuth stuck himself out the window, and watched us
march, and sing by. The hair is up on my neck now.
God bless the Marine Corps and the Marine Corps League.
Good Night Chesty
Former Marine Sgt., Thomas L. Driscoll RVN 67/68
I Miss The Corps
I just finished reading this weeks newsletter I found two guys I
have known for a long time had contributed to it.
First was from Cpl Ken Schweim: Ken and I enlisted together
(our serial numbers are two digits apart) in January of 1959,
completed boot camp together and then more or less lost track of
one another. As Ken stated, he was one of the few in the
platoon that was issued herringbone utilities. Ken also was
issued herringbone utility covers which were much lighter in
color than everyone else's, being one of the tallest members of
the platoon, he stood out head and shoulders above the rest.
The other entry was from MGySgt Rosenwirth who I have known for
nearly forty years. Like Rosy, I too was kicked out after 30
years for just plain having too much fun!
A while back I realized that since I have been retired for going
on 21 years, there are Marines who enlisted after I retired and
have themselves served long enough to have retired. That really
makes you feel old. I miss the Corps every day.
Lee H. Marshall, 1854979
SgtMaj, USMC (Ret) 59-89
Korea Cold Weather Gear
Sgt Grit: Enclosed is result of contact between G. Robinson and
myself, regarding a prior article I had written. With all the
current reference of Korea, thought you'd like to see the
resulting pictures.
Thanks for the quick reply, Top.
I thought you might enjoy seeing pictures of the vest I referred
to plus the USMC long parkas. First the parka...
Then here's the alpaca vest I picked up last week:
It has your name over a breast pocket and is the only one of
these I've ever seen with a pocket. And it has what looks like
Korean language characters printed on the loop of cloth at the
collar.
Rear of the vest with your name and service number
I've seen the so called "pile liners" for the M1943 field
jacket. They had pieces of woven string that hooked over the
buttons for closure of the jacket. It was an Army item and never
knew that the Marines used those. Is this the jacket you
referred to?
So you were an 0141 assigned to Army X Corps? I guess when the
1st Marine Division was pulled out after the Chosin Reservoir
campaign you were among them?
The fella who sold me the vest thought you were in a Marine tank
outfit. He even said he had two jackets that belonged to you
both of which had artwork on the back depicting Marine tankers
and had the name of a Marine tank Bn. I assume that was a total
fabrication.......or was that a later assignment during your
career?
So what did you do after Korea? I assume you spent some time in
Southeast Asia before you retired?
I live in the Atlanta area. I spent six years in the Marine
Reserve from 1967 until 1973. I was trained at Camp Pendleton as
an 0141 but was re-trained as a truck driver when I got to my
Reserve unit. I drove the 2 1/2 ton 6X6's.
Been to Las Vegas a couple times but prefer Lake Tahoe when I'm
out your way. That's a nice area.
Semper Fi
Greg Robinson
One Squared Away Marine
This Marine serviced at Quantico in the 1959-1962 timeframe? His
name is Manuel (Manny) Dacosta or DeCosta. I believe he may have
left active duty as a LCpl. One squared away young Marine!
Notice the gold collar emblems and scarlet/gold 'pogey rope'. He
would now be in his late 60's/ Let me know please.
Joe Featherston
Female Corpsmen
Dear Sgt Grit,
In reply to Sgt Arturo Garza's question about, "Was there any
female Navy Corpsmen in Vietnam". The only female medical
personnel were nurses on board USS Sanctuary and USS Repose
(hospital ships) and at NSA. They may have been more nurses at
the field hospitals or medical battalions but there were no
female corpsmen assigned to the FMF units during Vietnam.
The Bureau of Medicine and Surgery only assigned male corpsmen
to the Marine Corps units in combat. Perhaps the corpsmen you
spoke of may have been stationed on Okinawa at a medical unit
and not down South in Vietnam. There were no females assigned to
other ships except the hospital ships. The aviation squadrons
didn't have any females either back in those days. Perhaps other
FMF corpsmen might reply about this too.
Roger Ware
2/5, 66-67
HAL(3) Seawolves 71-72
All Of Us Ablaze
Sgt Grit ~ Have been trying to get in touch Marines from Plt
3345, MCRD San Diego, 16 Nov 68 - 26 Feb 69 The Sr. D.I. was
S/Sgt Sloan, and the next "Sr" D.I. was S/Sgt K.R. SOUTHERN, the
craziest SOB I've ever met in my life. I can remember Lee
Crumpler and Lanny Wilkinson, both from Katy, Tx., and John
Rocha, from Brownsville, Tx., Randy Shelsta, from Fargo, N.D., I
think? And how about Joe Prarie Hen and Anthony Eagle Bear, who
came "down" from Canada to enlist in the Corps, when a lot of
guys were going "north" to avoid the draft? And Raymond Ginn,
who enlisted in Houston, Tx., at the same time I did, and "we"
were enlisted on the "buddy plan", although we had never laid
eyes on each until the swearing-in ceremonies! And Milton
Clark, from God-knows- where....but he had STYLE....especially
at the final PT ! And, God-forbid, who could forget Guadalupe
A. Moncebaiz.....the THIRD? And Jasper Nunn, who, if I remember
correctly, became a Chaplins Asst., for the 3rd AmTrac Bn., Camp
Pendleton.. There were also Bill Norris, and "Pilotte" ( I think
"Tony"? ), and Robin Molden....who's pictures from his girl-
friend set ALL of us ablaze !
Thru the grace of God, we got back to the world in one piece.
That was a h&ll'uva time to enlist in the Corps, my
Brothers......Where are you now?
Jeff Fletcher Plt. # 3345 MCRD San Diego
Bamboo
I had the globe and anchor done a few years ago. Last week I
added the bamboo and "NAM-65"...It somehow makes my Vietnam
[65-66] experience more meaningful.
Semper Fi
James "SARGE" Thomas
U.S.M.C. 1962-1966
Slipped Back Into The World
Vietnam. The word brings different images to different people,
often with some sort of negative connotation of a quagmire of a
war fought as much in the political arena as on the battlefield,
although the stakes were much higher for those on the
battlefield. Most people I think would even have trouble
finding Vietnam on a map, if they could do it at all.
When I think of Vietnam, I think of "Joe". Joe can find Vietnam
without a map. He usually finds it in the middle of the night
when he wakes up in a cold sweat and shaking because he just
realized that he's still alive... again. He's been finding it
every night for 40 years, but he probably won't tell you about
it because the first time he tried to tell someone he got
burned. The last time, nobody cared anymore.
Joe isn't one person of course, he's 3 million American's who
went to Vietnam for no other reason than their country asked
them to and then shamed them for going. 58 thousand of them
came home in boxes; 155 thousand came home in pieces and the
rest wake up at night shaking. That's Joe.
My Joe is a smaller group of people, maybe half a dozen that
have I been honored to know and have blended together to try and
tell a bit of their story. Joe decided to join the service in
1967 because at 18, he thought he could make a difference in the
world. He went to his local recruiter and proudly announced
that he was there to join the war effort to go stop communists
in Vietnam. After an interview and a couple of weeks of
meetings and evaluations, it was decided that he would he would
leave for boot camp in 6 weeks. Several days later at the
dinner table of his parents' home, he received a phone call
letting him know that a slot had become available immediately
and that he could leave for boot camp the following morning.
Unfortunately, he had neglected to tell his parents anything
about his plans yet. Why should he have? He still had six more
weeks, and that is a LONG time... well, it is if your 18, isn't
it? "Mom, Dad, I have something I need to talk to you about.
I've been thinking about it and, well, I've joined the military
and I'm going to serve in Vietnam. I know what you're thinking,
but I've already made up my mind and I signed all the papers
earlier today." Silence. "Mom... Dad?" Finally, dad mustered
up a few words. "When do you leave?" "Tomorrow morning. I go
to boot camp for 13 weeks and then probably straight to Vietnam.
I don't know when I'll be home again after tonight."
His mother now lost what remaining vestige of calm she had left
and fled the room in tears. Dad was able to keep control of
himself in rapt silence, but Joe found out later that he had a
nervous breakdown not long after he left for the war and Mom
ended up being the glue that held the family together.
Boot Camp is where you lose your identity and then get a new one
back. You are stripped of any sense of self, and you learn a
humility that is beyond imagination to most of us. I'm not just
talking about sleeping in a bunkhouse with 100 other people or
changing your clothes in public. I'm talking about 10 toilets
in a room with no walls or doors. Variations on the word "I"
will be used only under pain of a million pushups, and replaced
with "this recruit". The closest you will come to even being
acknowledged by your peers is when you are screamed at by a
drill instructor at 3 o'clock in the morning because there is a
bug on your bunk, because you have no peers.
You are a recruit, and that is the worst scum on the earth.
Even the other recruits aren't your peers, because they are you.
All sense of identity is lost here. What comes out at the other
end however, is a sight to behold. Boys come out men and girls
come out women with a whole new identity. They are the most
polite, cleanest, responsible, and well behaved group of young
people you ever will meet. They are also your worst nightmare
if they need to be.
Joe actually liked boot camp. Sure, he would write letters home
complaining about the food, or more specifically the lack of it,
or about the drill instructors and the physical demands, but he
felt like he was starting to fit in. He was learning to trust
himself, and to trust the person on his left and the one on his
right. And as much of a jerk as that drill instructor seemed to
be, Joe was coming to realize that this was a person he would
never forget. To this day, he has not.
On graduation day, Joe and his fellow recruits were marched onto
the parade grounds to perform a very elaborate ceremony that
would be witnessed by a handful of officers and noncoms but an
otherwise empty grandstand. Joe's parents were not there, but
he expected that, no one's parents were there. To the outside
observer, it must have seemed a very lonely and sad day, but Joe
had never felt like he belonged anywhere more than he belonged
here at this exact moment. These were his people now.
For the next three years, Joe's story mostly disappears for
those of us who stayed home. To be sure we have movies and
books and newsreels, but for the most part we don't hear the
stories from the people who lived them and I'm not sure we ever
will. I'm not sure we ever want to.
For something to be so horrible that close to 3 million men and
women hold it inside for nearly 40 years, it cannot be easy to
bear. What we do hear is the stories of friendship and the
bonds that were created between them, which is where my Joe
comes back into the telling. His best friend was kneeling over
him holding his hand and trying to reassure him that he was
going to be all right.
Joe was bleeding badly and his unit was in the middle of an
intense firefight but he could hear the helicopters finally
coming in to get him and the other wounded out. He had no idea
how badly he had been hit, but he knew that he couldn't move his
arm and that he was starting to lose consciousness. His friend
had patched him up as best as he could and helped get him on the
waiting helicopter, which then sped out of the jungle without
time for a goodbye. They would not see each other again for 40
years, not even knowing if the other was still alive but when
they finally did meet again, it was as if two brothers long ago
separated had found each other. They had both cheated death
together, and they knew it.
His next memory is of being in a bunk on board a naval hospital
ship in pain and without enough room in his bunk even to roll
over, let alone get comfortable. He had just about decided that
his life was as bad as it possibly could get when he turned to
look at a young man in the bunk below him who was driving him
nuts with all of his moaning and whining. The young man was in a
similar bunk, but he was confined to his back not because of the
cramped space, but because he no longer had arms or legs. It
was at that moment that Joe decided never to feel sorry for
himself again; to my knowledge, he never has.
Eighteen months later, the war now over for him and his wounds
as much healed as they were ever likely to get, Joe came home on
a commercial flight and landed at his hometown airport. There
was no pomp or fanfare or cheering throngs with welcome home
signs. He was one of the lucky ones, left alone that night. No
protesters were there to meet him because it was too late in the
evening to be bothered with going out to spit on another soldier
or call him a baby killer and so he quietly grabbed his bags,
walked out of the terminal and slipped back into the world as
alone as he was the day before boot camp. The country he had
given so much of himself to didn't even know he was home, and
sometimes didn't care.
Today, Joe is an executive, and a truck driver, and a teacher,
and a police officer, and a friend. Sadly, he or she may have
gotten too lost to get back and is no longer with us, but more
often he is right among us still hanging onto an anonymity that
protects him from any more hurt. More and more though, he is
starting to emerge as America finally starts to understand that
he is still here and deserving of our respect. He organizes
crowds at the airport to make sure that our newest generation of
fighting men and women come home to the sort of welcome that he
should have had. He volunteers to pack care packages for our
troops overseas even after working ten hours and driving 90
minutes to get there, and he gives his dog tags to a young
Marine heading into battle.
As a society, we need to make sure that he keeps coming out;
that he knows that we are a grateful nation and understand that
without his sacrifice, not even protests would have been
possible, let alone prosperity and freedom. If you know a
veteran, tell him thank you; it might just be the first time
anyone ever has. Write a letter and take it to the Veteran's
Affairs office. Do something to let these men and women know
that they don't need to hide anymore, that we're proud of them,
and that we get it at last. And if you see someone wearing a
yellow bar tipped on the ends in green with three vertical red
stripes through the middle, that's Joe. Shake his hand and tell
him that you know who he is, and that you appreciate what he
did. Remember, he's been to h≪ he'd go again if we asked him
to, and he might go there tonight before he wakes up shaking.
Thanks Joe... and Roger... and Mike... and Lloyd... and Jim...
My Memorial Day 2009
Was it because, U. S. M. C. was on the silverware? was it
because of the film: "Sands of Iwo Jima"? with the flag raising
at the end? was it because Bill Turney my Uncle served in the
U. S. M. C. in the cold of Korea? I cannot put it to anything
that is above, but for what ever it was I joined the Corps in July 1978. The yellow footprints, the same as my uncle.
The "Goodnight Chesty wherever you are". The title so few can
achieve.
Thank you Drill Instructors: SSgt. M. E. Molina,
SSgt. J. G. Gomez, Sgt. J. W. Dorsett. for taking this boy from
Arkansas and turning him into a U. S. Marine. Job well done.
Thank you God, and Drill Instructors for making me who I am
today.
Semper Fidelis
Harold L Ramer
I leaned Over
Sgt Grit:
When my wife and I were seated in our booth in our local IHOP
this morning, I noted a man eating his breakfast in a booth to
my right, directly across from us.
The first thing I noticed was that he was wearing a black
baseball cap, but because all I could see was his "profile" and
not his full face, I could only make out the letters "US" and
what appeared to be a small American Legion insignia on his cap.
After we gave the waitress our order, sensing this man just
might be a Marine, I waited for him to turn his head our way so
I could satisfy my "curiosity." Sure enough, he briefly turned
my way while he answered (or placed) a call on his cell phone.
That's when I saw the letters "USMC" and a small "Bulldog" that
I thought was an American Legion emblem.
When my now "new Marine friend" let up a bit from eating, I
leaned over slightly towards him and said, "What's a Marine
doing wearing his cover indoors?" He reacted with a bit of
surprise as I smiled at him and extended my hand which he
instinctively reached for and we shook hands, as he realized I
was also a Marine by my use of the term "cover." He said
"sorry" and immediately removed his cover as we were shaking
hands
When I asked him if he recalled the "custom" that a Marine could
only be "covered" indoors if he was "Under Arms" he indicated he
did not. I then explained what I remembered from my time in the
Corps (1947-1968) when I believe all Marine Corps clubs (though
I'm not too sure about the Enlisted Clubs, which might have
explained why he didn't know or couldn't recall the custom) but
I'm certain about staff and officer's clubs), had small posters
located at or near the bar that proclaimed, "He who enters
covered here, will buy the House a round of cheer." Located
near this poster/sign was a Ship's Bell which the Bartender or
other Marine nearest to the bell would ring upon noticing a
Marine entering the club wearing his cover.
I jokingly added that any Marine who found himself in that
"predicament" never made the same mistake twice, especially with
our "pay tables" being far from adequate.
I asked him when he was in the Corps and he indicated he served
two separate enlistments, I believe the last one was in the
early 2000's. Asking me the same question I said, "I retired in
1968," and he said, "Oh, you were in the "Old Corps."
I fessed' up, "I guess I was, but then again, any Marine who
enlists one day earlier than another Marine was always "In the
Old Corps." This brought a chuckle from him, and he got up to
leave. We shook hands again with another "Semper Fi" and my wife
and I remained to finish our breakfast.
When we asked our waitress for the check, she said "that man
that sat across from you paid your check as he left,"adding that
he left a note for me." I was stunned as she handed me our check
where he had written this note on the back of it: "Thank you for
correcting this Marine! This one's on me. Semper Fi, Sgt. C."
(Attached is a scanned copy of the original).
My wife and I couldn't get over this. It has been a long time
since another Marine (or others for that matter) has done
something like this for us. We are usually the one's that do
this for other Marines we meet or even just see in a restaurant.
In fact, in this particular IHOP we often meet the Parish Priest
who renewed our marriage vows for our 50th wedding anniversary
(eight years ago already) and we always pay his tab, even when
he has several Nuns from his Parish with him.
I asked the waitress if she knew this other "customer" as I
heard them speak fluent Spanish with one another. She indicated
she did not, but that in talking with him he told her he was
originally from Columbia and now lived in nearby Reston, VA.
So, "Sgt. C from Reston," should you by chance be reading this,
or should our paths cross again in IHOP or in Reston, be assured
we want to return the favor, but for now, we thank you so much
for your thoughtfulness and generosity. I'm sure you know I
wasn't "correcting" you Marine, but rather relishing the
opportunity to revisit one of our revered Corps' many
traditions.
Semper Fi,
Gerald F. Merna
Mustang 1stLt Retired
Still Do Things
Greeting Marines,
I am currently serving as a Sheriff Deputy in Dona Ana County,
New Mexico U.S.A. It has been two years and six months since
I've been away from my beloved Marine Corps. After discussing
with some of my fellow deputies who are also Marines, we all
found out from each other that we still do things like, fresh
high and tights each week, tuck your boot laces into the boot
when they are off your feet, we hang our uniforms in a military
manner, boots spit shined everyday, and many other things. The
point is, the Corps hasn't left us it still governs the way we
go about our daily lives. That is why I finally went through
with getting my first Marine Corps tattoo. I don't know if you
can post the artists name, but if you can his name is Moises.
This young artist resides in my home town of Las Cruces.
Thank you in advance if you do post my tattoo, and Thank you
either way just providing this web page for us to look back on
great times.
Luis Corrales
Soft Tail Custom
You also asked for some bike photos so here are a couple of my
2007 FXSTC. It is a Soft tail Custom and had the Harley Marine
Corps covers on it. The local dealer Killer Creek Harley had to
find the air cleaner lid in New York as Harley Davidson stopped
making them. I am not sure if they have resumed making them or
not. Thanks and Semper Fi!
Dave
My First Return Trip
I read with interest Brian Schultz's experience being thanked
for his service during the Vietnam War. I would like to recount
to you and the Marine Corps community my experience in Da Nang
in 2002.
I served with MAG-13, VMFA-115 Ordnance at Chu Lai in 69 and 70.
After doing my part for the Marine Air-Ground Team, I returned
to the World to become a second class citizen or worse for
supporting for my brothers in arms. Although my family and
friends were overjoyed and relieved to see me return with all my
pieces intact, they could not disguise their burden of having a
Vietnam Vet in the family.
In 2002 I made my first return trip back to see how things
turned out. I flew a turboprop into Da Nang and on approach
looked out over the farms and rice fields. I felt the same old
fear descend on my worried mind. I wondered if they would hate
me and was sure this would be a terrible week. The driver from
the My Khe Beach Hotel met me at the airport as promised and
took me on a slow meandering ride through Da Nang. The city
looked shabby and old as if nothing had changed.
Later in the week I was out taking some photos of Three Corners
near the old French and American Bridges. An older guy went by
me, turned around and stopped. I wasn't sure what he was going
to try to sell me. I got the standard four questions; where are
you from, how old are you, how many children do you have and
(the most important one) have you ever been to Vietnam before?
I'm sure he knew the answer to all these questions because I was
wearing a black boonie hat with a miniature Vietnam Service
Ribbon and carrying my 782 gear Field Marching Pack.
I gave him the answers and told him I had been with the Marines
in Chu Lai in 69.
His eyes lit up. He grabbed my free hand in both of his, shook
it vigorously and said in very good English, "Your country sent
so many young people here to die. We are so ashamed. Thank you
so much for helping my small, poor, unworthy country." He
looked down, turned around and got back on his bike.
I was stunned and deeply moved. I had never been thanked by
anyone before for being a Vietnam Veteran. I never had any idea
there was anyone, other than us, who cared at all. I knew he
wasn't thanking me but was thanking us and I knew it wasn't him
alone.
The Vietnamese know the price of freedom unrealized. They, more
than others, know terror, fear, intimidation and murder. They
know we came to "pay any price, bear any burden, meet any
hardship, support any friend, oppose any foe, to assure the
survival and success of liberty"; a liberty they have never had.
Their (north and south) hopes rested with us and we let them
down. The shame of Vietnam isn't with us who did our duty when
our country called but with the American people who in the end
victimized us to cover their inherent weakness of spirit. You
have been thanked by the people of Vietnam for our service to
their country.
They know, and now, you do to.
Richard "Charlie" Brown
VMFA-115 Ordnance, Chu Lai
Only One Battle
Sgt. Grit,
On Memorial Day, I had run to the grocery store to pick up a few
things I'd forgotten. While waiting in the check-out line, I
noticed the man in front of me - a somewhat frail-looking
elderly man wearing a red baseball cap. When he turned towards
me, the writing on the front of his cap jumped out at me: "Once
a Marine, Always a Marine." When I thanked him for his service,
he told me he was a WWII vet. Then he said quite simply, almost
nonchalantly, "I fought in only one battle. Iwo Jima."
ONLY one? That's like saying our Declaration of Independence
and Constitution are only a couple of pieces of paper with some
writing on them! Admiral Chester Nimitz said it best, "For
those who fought on Iwo Jima, uncommon valor was a common
virtue."
I never caught the gentleman's name, but I left the store
thoroughly humbled and very much in awe.
Lisa Betancourt
Broken Arrow, Oklahoma
Proud mom of LCpl. Jason Betancourt
Korea, 54 Pictures
In the year of 1950 I was 19 years old when the Korean War broke
out. I had graduated from High School in 1948. I lived in a
small town between Dallas and Fort Worth, Texas. I was born and
raised there and had two brothers and two sisters who were all
younger than me. My youngest brother was 17. We both decided to
join the service and fight for our Country; which did not set
well with our Mom. We finally convinced her that it was the
right thing to do. My brother decided on the Navy and as I had
1/2 Year of ROTC at North Texas College in Arlington, Texas. I
wanted to join the Marines. We did and were shipped off at
approximately the same time. I lost track of my brother at this
time and did not see him until later on in life: Which is
another story in life itself.
I was shipped to 1stRTrngBn., MCRDep. San Diego, Calif. in Aug.
1950. In Nov. 1950.
I was promoted to PFC and assigned to HQ.BN.TRNG. & REPL.COM.
CAMP J. H. PENDLETON. In the middle of Nov. 1950 I was assigned
to 3rd. Inf Trng Bn T&RC Camp J. H. PENDLETON.
In Jan. 1951 I was assigned to 5th. REPLN. DRAFT. In Feb. 1951 I
was assigned to H & S Co. 1stBn 5thMar. In Apr. 1951 I was
transferred to Co. A 1stBn 5thMar.
This is truly where the story begins. In A Company I wound up in
the 60mm mortar squad even though when I went to Korea I was a
truck driver. The guys I was with were a great bunch of
Americans from all around the United States. I guess that is the
way all Marines feel when you live together in a Foreign place
for 13 months and have to depend on each other to protect you so
you can get home safe to your family. The 13 months was supposed
to be 9 months except the North Koreans and Chinese did not want
to cooperate with us.
The reason I am writing this story is I would like to find some
of the guys that I was in Korea with.
I have 54 pictures of them while I was there and I had written
there names and where they were from on the backs of the
pictures. Also if some of them have passed on which is very
likely since I am now 78 years old, I would like to hear from
members of their families.
When I returned to the States I was placed in the hospital with
PTSD and have no memory of the time I was in the Hospital except
flash backs of the shock treatments and the wraps in sheets and
placed in tubs of ice water.
If you were in this group of Marines I would like to hear from
you. maybe it will jog my memory of what had happened to me
during that time.
Since then I have had a wonderful life raising two boys and one
girl and their families.
Bill Taylor
Korea, 1951
Remembrance by some. The area in question and one hill in
particular, has acquired several names, by different writers of
their recollections. One hill in particular, where the first
battalion was assigned, was known initially as hill 307, as that
was the elevation of the hill that was used during that time
frame, and was stamped by the Library of Congress, as August 1,
1950, and was the official map used during that time period.
Within a week, and article was written by the media, and the
name "Horseshoe Ridge" was utilized the first time. And this
seems to be the popular name that has been maintained for the
area.
In October 1951, and article about the above was written by a
person with the 7th Marines, Tech. Sgt. George S. Chappers, a
person in the Public Information office, about his recollection
of the battle and he used the term "Operation Hole-plugger".
In August 1958, another article about the battle, was penned and
printed in the Marine Corps Gazette. It was written by Capt. P.
D. Reissner, Jr., who was a platoon leader in Able Company of
the First Battalion. His name for the article and the hill was,
"The Victors-at Boomerang" The article is 6 pages, and covers in
detail his remembrances of the night of the 23rd and morning of
the 24th.
Names for the hill were as diversified as the writer, And for
years to the ones on the Northern most part of the hill were the
fighting was continuous from 8:00 p.m. the 23rd, to 10:00 a.m,
the 24th, it was simply knows as "307". And later, in the 90's,
someone, possibly JPAC has designated the hill over two hundred
meters from the original map of '51, to an elevation in excess
of 500 meters probably from a JPS system, and rightly so as the
hill continued upward from where the battalion had dug in and IT
was on the southern most extreme of the hill, on the southern
ridge-line before it descended down to a road where engineers
had previously made.
And on that road where several tanks sent with the battalion for
additional support. One can relate from the above that the
hill, over the years acquired many names. The Chinese started
the evening of the 22nd, basically along the total MLR (Main
Line of Resistance), In this one engagement, the fighting time
as related above, coincides with the States C.S.T., of 6:00 :a.m
to 8:00 p.m This one battle was fought North and West of
Chunchon.
When the Chinese hit that portion of the line, against the 6th
ROK Division, the total division broke and left their positions
and headed south. This exposed units of the Marines to the east
and left a big hole in the line for the Chinese to advance.
They did so, to an extent, but because of some army units and
the Marines, the advancement was limited. The Marines held their
position on the MLR and some Army self-propelled 155's did the
same, without the infantry units that was supposed to be in
front of them, but disappeared.
To counter the offensive in this area, the First Marine Division
called up the total First Regiment which had been in reserve.
The three battalions were rushed north by trucks starting around
midnight of the 22nd. The first battalion was stationed the
furthest north, west of the 7th Marines, whose left flank was
totally exposed. Between the two units was and open area, but
the opposing forces didn't pursue that advantage as one would
think they would have.
The first remembrance of fighting was, someone yelled "grenade"
with everyone ducking in their holes. It went off with no one
hurt, but the realization to some was that the grenade went off
BEHIND their hole, and that got big time attention, cause that
meant how close the opposition was and we couldn't even see
them. Several times in the initial assaults by them you would
hear sentences in distance English "Charge kill them all" among
many other phrases, which is enough to get anybodies attention.
The 8:00 p.m. attack was initiated at the highest and most
northern part of the battalions position on 307. That specific
attack area was maintained by TWO squads of Charlie Company.
One squad of riflemen, whose squad leader was Cpl. Leo Marquez,
and his squad was one fire team short, so he had only 8 men, in
4 holes, and the other squad of machine gunners had, also eight
men and was headed by Sgt. Robert Handley.
So in that squad was ONE light 30 1919A4 Machine gun, SIX -
M-1's and TWO 45's. It's been estimated by Handley and another
that that one barre ll put in excess of 10,000 rounds through it
during that time and fortunately, without one misfire. And we
were real lucky, cause after Handlay evacuated himself with his
second wound of the evening, he found he had OUR shell extractor
in his to dungaree pocket at the aid station. Of the first rifle
squad there were only four of them left when we pulled off the
hill the next morning, and the Machine gun squad had only two
remaining. The rest were W/KIA during the fourteen hours of the
firefight.
In some other recollections of that night, if had been related
that WE were overrun. The only thing from the position of the
two squads above that happened like that, WAS, in the first
thirty minutes of the fight an outpost had been established in
front of the MLR and when the enemy hit the outpost was overrun
and had to move back and through the lines. To no ones
knowledge, from Charlie Company's position was ANY area or place
overrun, (as to be taken from us) anywhere in the battalion, but
no one in Charlie Co., could relate with any knowledge what
happened in the other companies, as the topography, and the
intense firefights in some area's where not conducive for an
informational flow within the battalion.
Some, both type casualties occurred, and one light Machine Gun
was left and the enemy utilized it effectively for the rest of
the fighting time tell they ran out of the captured ammo. It can
only be guessed at, the quantity of fire that came from those
two squads during that period, as you had the number of weapons
enumerated from the MG Squad, and with the rifle squad, they had
too have M-1, and BAR's, so it's not much telling how many
rounds were fired throughout the rest of the weapons that night.
Ed Brenner, who wrote a letter from the Hospital in Japan, said
"Boy we sure fired up a storm that night" and this was before he
was hit several times and had to be evacuated. And the ammo had
to be and was plentiful all night long as Marquez and others,
humped ammo from the Company C.P., the second and first squads
to maintain an adequate reserve of firing power. When that
third squad was over run, in the first 30 minutes of the
encounter, SOMEONE, had established, TO OUR RIGHT, an area where
there was between 3 and 5 light machine guns placed on the
ground side beside for the obvious, FIREPOWER, as evidently this
would have been a good place to break through the battalion
line, but once tried, and the outburst, must have taught the
enemy that they didn't have a future going that route.
The area's where the various companies were located on the hill
have been well documented, with Charlie Co., upon the top of the
ridge line, Baker Co., to it's left and rear, Able Co., to the
right and rear and to all spoken too, it never tied into C. Co.,
as previously posted, or at least no one in C. Co. ever remember
same, but of course they were somewhat busy for the entire
period.
When the next daylight came on us, one man from the Machine gun
squad was maintaining another gun, and the other the initial gun
emplacement, which maintained the original position from the
past day. When that gun was to be relieved, a gunner, I
suppose??, came to the hole and said they were to relieve our
gun and he asked how we wanted it done. He was told to get his
gun ready, stand just over the ridge line and yell ready when he
was ready to come down. And when he heard 'GO' coming over the
ridge line running, as the first gun would be out of the hole.
In his initial conversation, he said we were instruct to take
only our weapon and ONE box of MG. ammo was they would need the
other to keep the opposition at bay as we went to the base of
the hill and road, which they did. And when they pulled off and
the enemy ascertained there was no one in our fox-holes they
immediately gained the ridge line and started firing down on the
road, causing several casualties, wounded and killed. That was
until one of the tanks backed up and put a few rounds on the
ridge line, then the enemy must have realized that wasn't a good
area to be firing from as we heard no more from them. A letter
written in May to the states, said we had between 15 and 20,
KIA, and 100 to 110 WA, whatever the final amount, it took it's
toll on Charlie Company and it was a shell of a total unit until
we received numbers from the 8Th draft in May.
Another most important side of that night, the battalion had 4
MIA's that night and the two from Charlie Co., I don't think
were known to the troops for a long time. One of them was Ruben
Adame, who joined up a couple of weeks before the 23rd. Ruben
was from Alvin, TX., and being in the company a short time, it
was difficult to say the least to try and find someone who knew
of him. He only wrote one letter home during his time in the
Company. In checking with others in the company, the closest ANY
recognition came was from a person Handley had talked to in
Philadelphia and the response about Adama, WAS, "the name
sounds familiar' NOTHING MORE And Ruben only came to the
companies attention in the mid to LATE 90's, because, another
Marine had been searching for him since the EARLY 90's, if not
before.
SgtMaj. Pete Petrisky was from Rubens home town and made it, his
cause to find out more about his friend. In doing so in the
latter 90's the men of C-1-1 came into personal contact with
him. With his research we were able to relate about the
firefight and the absence of any knowledge about his high school
friend. Many meetings with Pete and a couple of trips to Alvin,
gave a much broader perspective of this good Marine who gave his
all, and also during that time and with the knowledge Pete had
gained we added Rubens name to our honor roll, that otherwise
would have, at that point, not been so. Ruben had a park in his
city named after him, to honor, and a site at the college they
had his name as the only casualty of the Korean War.
In 2004/5 Pete developed a terminal disease, which took his
life, During the many visits, Pete gave many things of his
research to Alvin, etc.. And had a desire to try and remember
Ruben or contact Ruben with his home town, Alvin. TX.. So he and
another devised a method to do same, as Ruben couldn't be
brought to his home town it was decided to take his home town to
him. So Two receptacles of soil, one from the park, and one
from his home, were boxed up, and take to '307', the only
hill/home that Ruben would have recognized, AND the soil from
his home was spread along and on the fox holes still in
existence, and the soil from the playground was spread on the
reverse slope where he might have gone for more ammo.
And this was done on APRIL 23, 2006, 55 years to the day of the
above. And, again by some friends who I had never met until
that time, One Youngok, Ahn, who was in high school when the war
started, volunteered and was assigned to the Marine Corps, along
with some of his friends for the linguistic abilities, and am
certain their duties made it a lot easier for the Jarhead!
Another, I met that day was Tom Coyner, who is a success-full
business man in Seoul, and he Say's has an aside, taking
pictures, well, if he ever needs or wants a different vocation,
he certainly has it that venture. They picked me up as 9:00 a.m.
and with the information forwarded to them, Youngok, had
research the travel time by road, and we drove to the south of
that mountain as good as anyone could go to a supermarket. Then
the walking started. WE also had along a reporter and
photographer for a Seoul newspaper, that Younok lined up or
there would never had been any record of the above.
This is to all who went there, did their jobs and came home,
remained, and are still remembered to this day. And others who
have done so much for the rest of us. Families, friends,
comrades, ALL! WE THANK YOU, AND!
SEMPER FI !
AND, WE REMEMBER!
Respectfully,
Norman Callahan
USMC
1108487
Korea 51-52
C-1-1
Short Rounds
David Douglas Duncan Vietnam Video Tribute
Sgt. I went thru P.I. in 1966 .
Best to my memory the 1st an 2nd Bat. were the old wooden world
war 2 barracks. The 3rd Bat was rebuilt in red brick. Plus the
rifle range was a good 3 miles force march from main side. I
might be a old Marine but I never will forget the Island.
V. Luten
USMC 66/69
I am not sure if this story has made it to you yet but I wanted
to be sure his story is heard. I am outraged and sickened. Thank
you for your website, newsletters and all the rest. More
importantly, Thank you for your service and love for our
country!
Dallas News Story
Jami Stout
Dallas, TX
Another outstanding news letter about SSgt McKeon and ribbon
creek I was weapons instructor at 1st ITR taught some of his
recruits they told me other than the ribbon creek incident he
was a good DI Keep up the good work SGT GRIT
SEMPER FI rbs
With regard to James Angelo's letter about the barracks back in
1959, I beg to differ.
I was at PI in 1969 in 2nd battalion (Plt 281), and we were
housed in wooden barracks, on Panama Street.
Ron Morse (Sgt 69-75)
A Marine who raised almost $50000 for the Special Operations
Warrior Fund
"Don't worry, can you keep up with me" as related, if
accomplished, then HE has my vote as, 'COHONES of the all time
Corps' that being said to Chesty!
Some were more in awe, scared or whatever!
Norman Callahan
C-1-1
Korea
51-52
Chesty's last regimental command !
Achievement, victory and success is worthless without
discipline.
Discipline is demanded just to gain the ambition to go after the
3 categories, and to sustain and stabilize the 3 categories for
continued growth and prosperity.
It's a possibility that's the reason why Marines have always
had and always will have the reputation for being the Elite.
We're the United States' Only Elite Breed of Warriors who
possesses the discipline for growth to that capacity.
Semper Fi, Marines
J.S. Elliott
0311 Basic Infantry '84-'88
Afghanistan Veteran Decal
Operation Iraqi Freedom Decal
Semper Fi
Welcome Home Marine, Job Well Done!
Sgt Grit
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