Author: SgtGrit

In December of 1992, I picked up LCpl after 9 months in the Corps. I was ten feet tall, and very proud. I remember calling my dad and telling him. (He was a swabbie) My unit 3d LAR Bn was on alert for “immediate deployment” and our gear was packed. I was only 18 years old, and had never been so far away from home. I was about to be even farther from home than I would imagine. It was about 1300 and the advance team was in a meeting at Bn CP. (Along with my newly found promotion, my head couldn’t have been any larger since I was also part of the advance team. Boy, wasn’t I salty?) All of a sudden, Lt Col Neller slammed open the door and told us to get our gear, our rifles, and report to the grinder in front of the chow hall. (Lt Col Neller had been rooting for a chance to go and deploy his unit ever since I got there in August, so it was small wonder he delivered the news himself). read more

Since the Corpsmen used to give us short arm inspections, we use to call them pecker checkers. Of course if you needed one he was Sir. I smashed my right index finger under a 20 MM box of ammo and it was swelled up and black and blue and killing me.  I went to see the Corpsman as I needed some relief. He had a big paper clip which he unwound so as to have a single round piece sticking out. He held it over a Zippo until it was red hot and put it to my finger nail. When it burnt it’s way through it went straight to the bone and the blood flew all over and I let out a yell that could be heard all the way to Po Hang Dong, down by the sea. After the blood let up the pressure was off and so was the pain. I had to hold it above my heart for a few days as every time my heart beat it would throb. I also had a few stitches put in by the same Doc and he should have been a surgeon. He was an old salt with tattoos from one end to the other but he knew his business. I was told he was a hold over from the Island campaigns. read more

I started boot camp MCRD SD Feb 5th 1960. My Di’s were Sgt Hardy and Sgt Harr, very tough and rough Marines. I was the youngest and the smallest in my plt. 216. Needless to say I got a lot of attention and none of it good. They used to grab me by my stacking swivel (my adams apple) and squeeze and ask me the eleven general orders and other things. Also they would stand in front of us when at attention and hit us in the stomach hard. Before we went to Camp Mathews we did a px call, we all had to buy chewing tobacco and we found out later why. They said that the smoking lamp would not be lit at Mathews, that was fine with me because I didn’t smoke anyway. So why the chewing tobacco? read more

I was in VMGR-252 in Cherry Point from ’63-’64 and the term for going north on weekend liberty was “swooping”. I heard of guys going as far as Chicago on a week-end swoop. Typically we had a car load, 3 in the front, and 3 in the rear splitting cost and driving. South Jersey boys got off at exit three on the Jersey Turnpike and picked up at the same place on Sunday. It was pedal to the metal from North Carolina all the way, except at the Virginia border where they had a speed trap. We got caught once and split the fine. Justice of the peace had court in a gas station bay out in the boonies. It was all worth it back then. “Cherryless Point” was out in the boonies and North Carolina was a “dry” state. The only bar was a 3.2 beer joint across from the main gate called the “Rendezvous” in a strip mall with a pawn shop and not much else. New Bern, the nearest town, didn’t have much more to offer, except a motel where one might find a lady of the night. With ten thousand Marines just down the road you can see how this was a cash cow for the region, but it was mostly too crowded on payday. read more

I’ll never forget Major Charron, he was a great guy.  I always felt like he was more sympathetic to the enlisted men then the other officers, probably because he was a mustang officer.  There were a couple of our officers who were (for want of a better term) “haughty”, but the majority were good guys, even though there was a necessary split between officer and enlisted.  I can only remember one time when they fraternized off the record.  A bunch of us was at Andy’s Ebb Tide bar when Captain Cannon and a couple of the other pilots came in wearing their dress whites.  They came over to our table and bought us a round or two, sat down and commenced telling a few sea stories. They were great guys. read more