As Christmas fast approaches children laugh and adults smile, the gifts wrapped in paper look pretty for awhile. The seasons sounds surround me, I remember when cadence was our song and wrapped in shades of green we sang it all day long. The gift we give is freedom, no greater gift can we impart, for the most precious gift of all is a gift from the heart. Lt. Jansen USMC ret.
Author: Keith Jansen
Crossing the Blue Line
Talking about drown proofing, remember our training about crossing a river? I know how it should be done even after all these years however; it seem like in Viet Nam we got across as fast as possible. Which always made sense with all those “things” in the water. I recall one time when we were getting ready to go in to the river. We lined up with me behind the Marine carrying the M-79 (the blooper—the sound it made when fired) and that heavy bag of rounds. We called this Marine Barney (Rubble) after the character on The Flintstones because that’s who he look like to us. He was one of the smallest men (about 5’6″) in the platoon and was built like a square block of wood with a great easy laugh. Anyways, Barney jumps in to the river with his weapon and ammo bag over his head. All anyone could see of him was his helmet going a cross the water like a turtle. He made to the other side just in time to breath again. He explain that he couldn’t actually touch the river bottom so he had to tiptoe his way across. We all had a laugh over the sight of watching that helmet going through the water. Barney was laughing the loudest of us all after we explain what he looked like. Thankness he didn’t head in the wrong direct once he got in to river otherwise we might not have seen him again due to how muddy the water was. I can’t wait until Marines learn how to walk on water. That should make the process of river crossings easier for those Marines who stand closer to mother earth.
Do you know what a Chaser in the Marine Corps?
For those of you who are not sure, no I’m not asking about what you call
the second drink you take after a shot. Let me relate a couple of examples of
what a chaser is or does:
1) It was during staging for Vietnam in 1969, we were on the firing range
with these new weapons, the M-16. For those of us, that humped the M-14, this seems like a joke and a few protest about having to fool with these things. Anyways, one of the guys must have gotten into some real trouble with the Range NCOIC because I was called out of line and ordered to stand watch over this Marine. The Range NCOIC used the term Chaser and because of the question on my face, he explained what I was supposed to do. I’m grunt—I mean, after all, my MOS was 0341 that had to mean something special. Sorry—let me get back on track. It was told to me that I was to stay with this Marine and not let him leave the area and to chase after him if he attempted to run. I ask what happens if he can run faster than me. The Range NCO stated that I would take his place—that was not going to happen! I followed my orders and turn this guy over to the MPs when they showed up. I was glad to be done with that duty.
>
> 2) I’m in VN with Golf 2/5 minding my own business and trying not to
volunteer (which is how I got to Vietnam in the first place). The company gunny told me to report to Bn.HQ back in AnHoa. It was once again explained to me that I was to be a Chaser for a Marine who had been charged with using drugs. I was ordered to take him to DaNang for a Court Martial Division. By the way, I was not provided with transportation. We manage to catch a couple of choppers and a truck Division. The man was in full compliance with my efforts to get him to DaNang but then again I was carrying an M-16 and a .45—no way was I going to run after him. On the way back, I found us a place to spend the night and some chow and a ride all the way back to AnHoa. The (now) PVT. went back to his company and I went back to the brush. I thought this job would never get done.
>
> 3) I got hit in Vietnam and sent to the Naval Hospital in Flushing, an area
in New York City. Once I was able to get around, I was assigned to the Marine Liaison Office at the hospital I would go on to the wards in order to deal with anything the Marines needed or wanted to be done (usually personal gear and calls home). The S/Sgt called me in one day and explain that a Marine who walked away from his unit in Vietnam had managed to get back to the states because he needed medical treatment. He also needed to be taken to Brooklyn Naval Yard for processing. At this point, I started wondering if there was something in my personnel file about my various experiences as a Chaser. I was issued a .45 (I really like that weapon) and instructed not to let anyone question this Marine or get near him. I think it goes without saying that I had no problem with these orders—we all lost friends and/or did our jobs in Vietnam. This coward was not going to have it easy. We sat in the last seats with me on the outside of him and no one got near us. Once we got to the Marine Barracks at the Naval Yard, a 2nd.Lt. was going through this guy’s file and stated that he had 30 days leave coming to him and would he like to take it today. WHAT!! I’m serious. This Lt. gave him leave even thou I explain what my orders were and why. My friends, I’m not BSing you at all. It has since dawn on me that maybe this Marine was a “spook” instead of what I was told. I met one when my unit was at Liberty Bridge; so I know they were there. Anyways, time passes and I’m on leave back home watching the news—we often got news from NYC. It was reported that a Marine deserter was being taken back to the Naval Yard from the hospital when he manages to get away from his guard (chaser) while crossing one of the bridges in the city.
Making a river crossing
Talking about drowning proofing, remember our training about crossing a river? I know how it should be done even after all these years, however; it seems like in Viet Nam we got across as fast as possible. Which always made sense with all those “things” in the water. I recall one time when we were getting ready to go into the river. We lined up with me behind the Marine carrying the M-79 (the blooper—the sound it made when fired) and that heavy bag of rounds. We called this Marine Barney (Rubble) after the character on The Flintstones because that’s who he looks like to us. He was one of the smallest men (about 5’6″) in the platoon and was built like a square block of wood with a great easy laugh. Anyways, Barney jumps into the river with his weapon and ammo bag over his head. All anyone could see of him was his helmet going across the water like a turtle. He made to the other side just in time to breath again. He explains that he couldn’t actually touch the river bottom so he had to tiptoe his way across. We all had a laugh at the sight of watching that helmet going through the water. Barney was laughing the loudest of us all after we explain what he looked like. Thanks he didn’t head in the wrong direction once he got into river otherwise we might not have seen him again due to how muddy the water was. I can’t wait until Marines learn how to walk on water. That should make the process of river crossings easier for those Marines who stand closer to mother earth.
THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS
TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS, AND ALL THROUGH THE CORP, NOT A TROOPIE HAD LIBERTY AND BOY WERE THEY SORE. WE WERE ALL CRASHED OUT, EVERY MAN IN A LOT , IN A BED OF SPIKES, CALLED A MARINE CORPS COT. WHEN OUT ON THE PARADE DECK, THERE AROSE SUCH A CLATTER, I SPRANG FROM MY RACK TO SEE WHAT WAS THE MATTER, OUT OF BREATH,I HID BEHIND THE DOOR WAITING FOR MORE !… WHEN A ROLY POLY FIGURE APPEARED ON THE SCENE, AND TO MY SURPRISE IT WAS THE COMMANDANT OF THE MARINE CORP., YES IT WAS THE GENERAL HIMSELF, THERE WAS NO DOUBT HE WAS WEARING A PONCHO INSIDE OUT, HE MARCHED AROUND EACH MANS RACK CAREFULLY INSPECTING EACH MANS RIFLE AND PACK. TO A FEW HE LAID OUT A 96 CHIT, BUT TO THE MAJORITY A RATION OF SHIT: AS HE PULLED AWAY IN HIS GOLD PLATED TANK PULLED BY TEN PRIVATES PUSHING FOR RANK. I HEARD HIM SHOUT …MERRY CHRISTMAS TO YOU BASTARDS YOU”LL NEVER GET OUT …
FIRST LIGHT
“FIRST LIGHT”
First Light Starlight – star bright – shadows in the night.
I pray that calm will be, that we may see The next first light.
Moonlight – too bright, we fear will bring a firefight.
If that must be – I pray to thee that we survive til next first light.
A distant sound brings chills of fright Eyes open wide – no sleep tonight.
The sounds so slight are amplified It’s long away from next first light.
We’re young, and strong – this starlit night But do not boast with great delight.
Hold back the tears – I must for years if I survive to see first light.
Typhoon Bess
USMC operations orders for 2 September 1968, indicate that Lima Company 2/26 was on a clearing operations in the mountains of the Hai Van pass. On the 4th of September 1968, Typhoon Bess struck the coast of Vietnam. Lima was at the highest point in the mountains and took two serious WIA in a ambush. The only option was to return to the base of the mountain to evacuate our wounded. I was had been attached to Lima as the Scout Observer from Charlie Battery 1/13. Charlie had positioned on the beach at the edge of the mountains to support Lima during the 7 day operation. I went to the ambush site with my radio as my radio operator Trosper was sick and contacted Bravo’s Commanding Officer. I explained about the ambush and the only option open to us. I asked for a fire mission and indicated danger close right away. The CO told me that the battery was almost under water from the tidal surge and that all aiming stakes were gone and that the very best gunner the battery had would use his distant aiming point. All I asked was that he did the best he could. For over an hour I adjusted fire onto the bunker where the machine gun was located, all rounds impacted within 100 feet of where I was adjusting the fire. Lima was able to in the middle of a Typhoon move back down the mountain in 5 hours and ambulances were waiting for our wounded.
Liberty call in “OLD” SAN JUAN…..
So anyway, still on that float in the Caribbean in 1969 with Fox Company 2/2, we were on Liberty in San Juan, P.R. Well actually, most of us were in “old” San Juan enjoying life and liberty call. For those of you who didn’t get to make this float allow me to summarize what Old San Juan was like. My brother served in the Navy when I was in the Marines, we never talked about Old San Juan while home on leave. We just looked at each other and smiled until we looked foolish. Ok. Back to the story. Cpl. McDonald and I were standing at the bar spending our last dollar before having to return to the ship(aka the boat) USS Guadalcanal.
Determined to earn the EGA
At the age of 17. I left home to join the MARINES.So I could help my mother.I was sent to MCRD. Parris Island SC. My hometown is Columbus GA. It’s an Army town you might say its the home of Ft.Benning Ga. The 101stairborne rangers train here this is where we train foreign officer’s in the school of the Americas and the world’s largest infantry school.General George S Patton Jr.had a home at Fort Benning during WWII.So it seems strange that I would want to join the MARINES coming from an Army town but I knew I wanted something more to challenge me.I didn’t know at the time how much of a challenge it would become.At 17 when I joined I went in weighing around 250 lbs. So before I could receive regular training I had to drop quite a few pounds.So I was sent to a place I’ll call the fat farm where we did nothing except P.T. Physical Training I had no clue to what I was about to endure. From the time revelry was called till taps were sounded, we had P.T. when we went to chow whether it was morning, noon or night it seemed like we were just allowed to look At the food and maybe smell a little of it. because being on the fat farm you were there to lose weight and I surely lost every pound that I was told to lose.When I was allowed to start my regular basic training I had got into pretty good shape so I thought. I was sent to 2nd training battalion things were really tuff for me I kept wanting to give up but for some reason earning that title of Marine keep me going until the week before graduation.when the unthinkable happened the day before my accident we were running 100 yard wind sprints when all of a sudden my left leg started hurting so bad I wanted to cry but I managed to hold back the tears I had never encountered so much pain I thought someone had a torch and was holding it to my leg . We then proceeded to run back to our barracks my squad bay which was on the top floor of our building I knew those steps I was going to run up would be my downfall, to this day I can still feel every step I climbed.My Senior DI. Sent me to see the Dr. I was told I just had bad muscle cramps .when I came back to my barracks the pain had eased up some but no one caught the hairline fracture I got from running wind sprints.The next morning we were to run the obstacle course, on the very first obstacle that I approached is when the unthinkable happened I attacked it like I had done so many times before but this time the obstacle won I had broken my left leg both bones the tibia and fibula.At that moment of my break, I had so much adrenaline in me that I could Cleary see my leg was broken from it shape that it was. I knew my leg wasn’t supposed to look like that, for the life of me it didn’t hurt the DI seen it and made everyone get into formation while I laid there screaming let me finish the obstacle course. I can see the DI’s face now how he looked with amazement at what I just said. I didn’t realize at the time that adrenaline wears off but I soon found out when I arrived at the Naval Hospital in Sumter SC. Before the Dr. Straighten my leg out he said to me recruit don’t you know your leg isn’t supposed to look like that that’s when the adrenaline wore off the Dr. started pulling on my leg the pain was so intense I started screaming so loud I’m sure the whole hospital knew I was there with a broken leg .I actually passed out from the pain they could have given me everything for pain but it wouldn’t have done any good anyways from the severity of my break.So now I’m in the hospital with a broken leg they inform my mother that I’ve been injured in a training accident so she comes to SC.to the Naval Hospital to see me.When she last saw me I was fat and out of shape. I was standing at the foot of my bed leaning on crutches when she walked right past me. I said, momma, where are you going? She turned around and it took her a moment to realize who I was .when she finally recognizes who I was she started screaming they killed my baby, they killed my baby a nurse had to come calm her down. So after my mother found out they hadn’t killed me, she went back home and after about 2 weeks they sent me back to P.I. where I went to a place called MRP Medical Rehabilitation Platoon when I arrived I was in a long length cast so as you can imagine how I had to get around there were recruits their with broken arms legs and all other things I still can’t explain but we had a DI their that was not going to let peoples injuries get in the way of Physical training so recruits w/broken legs we had to do push ups the one w/broken arms did sit ups no matter why you was there recovering he found something that you could do physically. I was their so long that I got to go home on leave. When I returned back to basic they wanted me to take a medical discharge and I refused so they finally sent me back to training except this time I was sent to 3rd recruit training battalion I started out on Mar 5 1974 my birthday when I returned to duty it was 1st week of 2nd phase .So again to state I arrived at P.I. Mar of 74 my birthday when I finally graduated Dec 17 of 74 to 9 weeks of training turned into 9 months but with nothing but determination I Finally earn the title MARINE. Now 43 yrs later I’m telling this story I’m still as proud today at 60as I was when I was 17 because when i earned the EGA EAGLE GLOBE &ANCHOR I. became not only a MARINE but a man and as for the time I spent at P.I. I’ve never heard of anyone being their longer than I. Really hope you enjoyed my story . to all my Brothers & Sisters Marines I just want to say SEMPER FI DEVIL DOG’S Carry On.
A Veteran’s Poem
The following is by my friend, a fellow Marine, Rick Waller. He wrote this for the Veterans program at his church.
Who I Am
by Richard Waller
I venture far from home, family, and friends;
I go to places I’ve never been;
I encounter people I’ve never known;
I see and hear things I’ve never imagined;
My days do not end with the setting sun.
Where I walk I do want it to be known.
When I speak I do not want to be overheard!