I arrived in the United States in January of 1968 from Scotland and enlisted in the Marine Corps in May of 1968. I arrived at MCRD San Diego on 9 June 1968, and after being up all of the night before embarking and all of the day, too, arrived at the base at about 2100 hours. As we came off of the bus, we were met by Marines in Campaign Hats who all seemed to be yelling at us at the top of their lungs. We finally got the idea and proceeded to get on the yellow footprints. I was on the line closest to the yelling Marines as the line surged back and forth, all of us trying to get our own set of footprints. The lad in front of me stepped on my foot and caused me to stumble into
the lad behind me, who promptly fell onto the lad behind him. Suddenly I was the focus of all of those guys in the Campaign Hats and they were all yelling loudly at me. Finally the yelling tapered off and one Marine got right up in my face and screamed “What are you doing, you piece of sh-t? What are you doing in my Marine Corps?” I looked at him, feigning surprise and said in a heavy Highland accent “Marine Corps? I thought that was the bloody bus to Disney Land!” There was total silence as everyone, it seemed, was staring at me. Then the Marine who had asked me those pointed questions, screamed again, right in my face, ” Get down on the ground, you piece of sh-t! Are you a f-cking comedian? Are you a funny guy? Start doing push ups until I tell you to stop! Get down now!” So, as all the other recruits were being told what to do, I was face down on that tarmac doing push ups and was made to stay there long after the others had gone on to begin processing into the Marine Corps. Finally I was allowed to get up and two of those Marines ran me, screaming all the way, through my processing. I was the last one through everything and had the accompaniment of those two “escorts”. If I learned anything that night, it was that Marine Drill Instructors did not appreciate a sense of humor in a piece of sh-t.
OUR MOTHER SENT MY BROTHER IN BOOT CAMP(SD) SOME MEDICAL PILLS CONCEALED IN A CAKE. OF COURSE THE DI’S “INVESTIGATED” THE CAKE AND DISCOVERED THE PILLS. MY BROTHER HAD TO BURY EACH PILL IN A 3X3 FOOT HOLE A LITTLE WAYS BETWEEN THE DRILL FIELD AND THE
WATER.
Smart Azs in Trouble…. As soon as I began to read your story, I started to laugh out loud. I just could see you saying that and what the D.I.’s were doing. I a’m a little surprise that one of your D.I.’s did not give you a little love tap up-side your head. Or chock your -self with there hands. Both of these methods I witness as training tools in my Boot Camp in SD 1976. P.S. After your so-called joke with the D.I.”s,I bet you were real careful what came out of mouth after that. Hope you made it, and came out as a Marine. OOrah…. And you can look back an laugh at yourself now…… Semper Fi
I realize we hold our DIs in the highest esteem … But I like to remind recruits that even a (future) DI was probably a scrawny, two-left-footed, clueless maggot (“You silly peolpe make Hogan’s goat look like a precision instrument; I’ve seen a soup sandwich that was more squared-away than you clowns!”) when they first ran off the bus and stepped on the yellow footprints.
“Look at that DI, son, and know you, too, can become that kind of Marine”
They just pretended they didn’t have a sense of humor. They couldn’t let you get away with anything, but full respect. I was in platoon 387 from 21 Sept to 20 December’64. We didn’t have that many Vietnam veterans by then. We hadn’t given it much thought until’65. Will remain eternally grateful I had the privilege to serve as a United States Marine.
There’s never a doubt that DIs have a sense of humor, much like Attila the Hun or Genghis Khan got the giggles as they pillaged and burned …
Sorry, but I have to call BS on this one…..Campaign HAT? Tarmac? Sorry, but the joking with the DI part doesn’t sound right either, so my gut tells me this one is BS,
you have never heard those terms used in the marine corp?
Yep. Heard the term tarmac all the time. But in boot camp it was referred to as deck or parade grinder. And the term “HAT”? How about “COVER” Marine?
I went to boot camp with a Kunkel, 1965, plt 234, any relation? He must have stood over 6 ft 2.
Yes, it was probably my cousin Freddie Kunkel.
For Gods sak, Kunkel, chill out!!! After all, the guy is from Scotland where they speak a little different kind of English language. Semper Fi!!!
Desiderata
Go placidly amid the noise and haste,
and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible without surrender
be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly;
and listen to others,
even the dull and the ignorant;
they too have their story.
Avoid loud and aggressive persons,
they are vexations to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others,
you may become vain and bitter;
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your own career, however humble;
it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.
Exercise caution in your business affairs;
for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;
many persons strive for high ideals;
and everywhere life is full of heroism.
Be yourself.
Especially, do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love;
for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment
it is as perennial as the grass.
Take kindly the counsel of the years,
gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.
Beyond a wholesome discipline,
be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe,
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.
Therefore be at peace with God,
whatever you conceive Him to be,
and whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul.
With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful.
Strive to be happy.
Max Ehrmann, Desiderata, Copyright 1952.
Sorry it if offends you Prothro. I just spoke my mind and added my opinion as is my right and what I see that many of you do here as well.
my last name is walsh, DI kept on calling me wash or welch, like a good recruit i corrected him,
and like a good DI he corrected me, i was wash/welch for the rest of boot camp.i never try to correct him again. lesson learned
I was deathly intimidated from the moment I left home and stepped on the plane to boot camp. That feeling g never went away and only intensified all thru boot camp up until the very moment Senior Drill instructor Ssgt. Westinberger said Platoon 2013 dimissed” at graduation! Only then did I breathe a sigh of relief and it hit me that I did it and had earned the right to be called “MARINE!” Semper Fi!
Well said Kapena! SEMPER FI! Harry
My last name was butchered by the DIs as well and probably not by accident, but out of immense fear and respect for them I never even considered “correcting” them. I knew then that I wasn’t in high school anymore.
When questioned about our ethnicity most responded with a one word answer. I said Hawaiian, Filipino, Chinese,Caucasian. Drill instructor said that I was a mutt and from now on my name is pvt. “FRUIT SALAD.”
My first night in the Corps on 27 February 1969 taught me a couple of things:
1. We had a LCpl driver taking us to MCRD San Diego from the airport. I learned one of the TWO most dangerous Marines in the Corps is a LCpl with a ‘little’ authority. 😉
2. DI’s have no sense of humor, and I realized I was going to die and never make it out!
P.S. 35 years later I retired as a CWO4. 😉
Training Commenced: 10 March 1969. Graduated 6 May 1969
Platoon 2040, F Co, 2nd RTB
SSgt H. Hendricks, Plt Comander
Sgt J. L. Hess, DI
Sgt J.W. VonGruigen [he REALLY did not like me]