I was in the fourth or fifth week of boot camp at MCRD in August 1953 when our senior DI called out “private Daly — front and center.” He stacked one locker box on top of the other and had me climb up on them. He then read the following words written on the flap of a letter from my girlfriend Margaret. “Postman, postman do your duty. Rush this letter to my Cutie.” From that day on I was known as Private Cutie at roll call, mail call and any other time the DI addressed me. That name stuck with me until I was transferred to the 3rd MarDiv 12th Marines, in 1954. In my next letter to Margaret, I told her NEVER to write ANYTHING on the outside of the envelope again. She never did !
Author: SgtGrit
BOOT CAMP STORIES
The first time for interior guard around 2nd BN area at MCRDPI I was posted around the mess hall area with one portion of my route on Panama St. in front of those old wooden barracks (this was Nov. ’67). On one trip around I could hear pounding and shouting from two voices one definitely the DI’s and I guessed the other was a recruit. But, whatever was going on was coming from the squad bay area. Next trip around it was all quiet. Next time by the ambulance was pulling away. Heard through the grape vine that while the DI was pacing between the rows in the squad bay, the plt was doing the manual while in skivvies, one of the t*rds snapped and launched a horizontal butt stroke at the head of the DI as he passed by. But, those amphibious monsters have eyes in the back of their heads so the kid whiffed, didn’t even get any of the Smokey, and landed himself in the hospital and brig. Our plt never had a revolt of any kind other than one alpha hotel who hung a foxtrot uniform on the Senior and just disappeared after we got back to barn. The guide and house mouse just packed his gear and took it away. It was early enough in the cycle that I wasn’t going to risk moving my eyes away from directly to the front to see what happened to the smart a$$.
Were Bigger
I take exception to the person named “Okey, Plt. 141, 1957” who wrote about a Cpl. Stouts story that apparently failed to use the what he deemed were the proper words and implied that those of us that went through Parris Island didn’t ‘talk the talk’. Cpl. Stouts may very well have had a mental lapse after so many years of being a civvie. I can assure you that as a graduate of MCRD – Parris Island, Plt. 374, November, 1963, we also called them utilities, ladders, hatches, chow, skivvies, etc., additionally we were also told that we were the real Marines – not Hollywood Marines, like the other group of men and women who were in MCRD – San Diego. Our DI’s were meaner, our training tougher, our barracks had no air conditioning, and our sand fleas were bigger. So there ! All kidding aside, it seems that this was the only Marine, inner Corps rivalry, that I ever saw during my time as an active duty Marine.
This Is The Corpsman Speaking
I served eight years FMF….I did three tours in Vietnam as a Recon Corpsman but time in combat ended up taking their toll on me…seeing too much combat and too much death put me in a private H&ll that only other Combat Veterans, could ever understand… you learn what the word “Frightened” is all about…. you learn how to walk away from your brothers when they are laying there dead in a shelter half, waiting for the Chopper to come in and take them home. To survive, you know that you have to shut down all feelings and just do your job. A lot of veterans coming out of combat have already lost their ability to “restart” their emotions and live a normal life. They will carry the memories of combat for their entire life. The civilian Dr’s have attached many names to our demons…from “survivor guilt” to the catch all “PTSD”. But they will never truly know what we are feeling.
Joke
There were two old Marines sitting on a porch in rockers and one said to the other, “what would you rather have, Parkinson’s with a little shake, or Alzheimer’s with a little memory loss?” He thought a while and said, Parkinson’s! “Why”, the other Marine asked? “Because, I would rather spill a little fine sipping whiskey than, forget where I put the bottle!”
Homemade Hooch
Sgt. Grit,
Here is a Christmas story for you. It was Christmas 1990 and we were in Saudi Arabia getting ready for Desert Storm. All of us SNCO’s with 3rd Assault Amphibious Battalion had been putting items we received from home on a table in our tent to share on Christmas Day. After going to the chow hall we went back to our tent to start our celebrating. The company CO and a few other officers came by to celebrate also. One of the Corpsman had been making some homemade hooch and he decided to share with all there (no alcohol was allowed in Saudi). Well everyone had a little sip as there was not much and we enjoyed it. The next day the word came down that no more homemade hooch would be allowed. We had a good Christmas even though we were away from our families. Merry Christmas to all and a Happy New Year.
They Were Hypnotized
When I served in the Corps I was a teenager when I enlisted in 1958. At that time a lot of the senior NCOS were veterans of the pacific. These men were all heroes to us and when they had their dress uniforms on the ribbons on there chest would take your breath away. Sometimes in the evening the kids like me would ask them to tell us what the battles were like . They would tell us story after story and we would set there with out eyes as big as silver dollars. I remember looking around at my buddies a time or two and they looked like they were hypnotized. When I was older and had a family of my own I was reading a story to my kids one Christmas eve and I looked up at them and they had the same look on their faces. That brought it all back to me. God bless the Marine Corps and everything it stands for.
Different Christmas Poem
The embers glowed softly, and in their dim light, I gazed round the room and I cherished the sight.
My wife was asleep, her head on my chest, My daughter beside me, angelic in rest.
Outside the snow fell, a blanket of white, Transforming the yard to a winter delight.
Days Before Christmas
Oorah Sgt Grit:
I’m going to tell the readers a story about my most memorable Christmas. Now, I love my family and like to spend holidays with them as much as the next man, but in my 26 years on Earth, my most memorable Christmas occurred while I was aboard the USS Bonhomme Richard with my brother Marines. This particular Christmas had no wonderful gifts, or huge Christmas trees, or Christmas decorations, but it is still my most memorable Christmas ever.
The POW/MIA “Remembrance Tree”
When the Viet Nam War ended, 591 Americans were released in Operation Homecoming in 1973. Military experts expressed their dismay that “some hundreds” of POWs did not come home with them. Since 1995, thousands of reports have been received, indicating that many Americans are still alive, and being held against their will in Southeast Asia. Whether or not these men are still there today, remains a mystery. What is certain, however, is that if only one American remains alive in enemy hands, from any war, we owe him our best effort to bring him home.