Category: Main

The one hour sleep story reminded me of my arrival in San Diego in 1964. My plane stopped in Denver, not feeling well I spent too much time in the restroom, missed my flight. Finally got to S.D., took a cab to the Depot. The MP’s thought it was a hoot my showing up in a cab. The processing staff picked me up, when we got to the yellow footprints, they all thought it would be fun to see how fast they could process one recruit. They made bets and timed me with a stopwatch. I don’t know what the time was, I was in shock. The rest of my group had been policeing the area and had not been picked up by the DI yet, so I didn’t miss a thing. When I returned from Nam in 1967, I was posted at 2nd Battalion ITR at Pendleton, almost full circle from my start in the Corps.
D. Nicoll Ssgt.
RVN-65-66 read more

While stationed at Camp Hansen 1963-1964 I drove for the CO of the 9th Marines, Col. Early. He was even tempered most of the time except when we passed a Marine who didn’t salute. Regardless of rank, they were in for a major ass-chewing. In 1964 I drove for Lt.General Victor Krulak while on his tour of bases in Okinawa. He also became enraged when military did not salute, regardless of the rank or service. He was even more vicious than Col Early was. read more

While not a Salute story, it does involve something akin to behavior that some might salute; or not. While stationed at Marine Barracks, U. S. Naval Ammunition Depot, Hingham, MA, (1956-1957)and serving as a Sergeant of Marines, the CO asked me to deliver a parcel to his quarters on board the Depot, and instructed me to use the back door. Some background: Sometime during the first month there, I walked into town to cash my paycheck (we got paychecks!) and on the way, a female with children stopped and asked me if I wanted a ride, I did, and she asked me how long I had been stationed at the MB, etc.,(I was in uniform) and I politely answered and let it go at that. I did not use the back door; I thought it was not within the dignity of a Marine Sergeant to do. The CO’s wife answered in a nightgown and robe; at 0930. I delivered the parcel and beat feet out of there.
At the time, I had no intention of re enlisting in the Marine Corps. I took my release from active duty, but later re enlisted, visited the MB, Hingham, and I asked my OIC why I had been given such low Conduct and Proficiency marks which were the life blood of Composite Scores in those times. He stated that I had performed at the 4.8 level, but that the CO demanded the SRB entries of: 4.5, 3.8; 4.0, 3.5; 4.5, 4.0. My pro&con marks prior to being stationed at the MB were consistently at the 4.5 to 4.7 range. My next duty station was at the Marine Barracks, U. S. Naval Shipyard, Portsmouth, NH where for two years my average pro&con marks were 4.9, 5.0 for two years! And later at 2ndBn., 6th Marines, (4.7, 4.7) The problem: my OIC told me that the the CO’s wife told him that while she was giving me a ride to town to cash my check that I was LEERING at her. Hard to believe, even though I lived through it. Many years later I met that CO, he was a colonel and I was a warrant officer, he acted like I was one of his long lost best friends. I had to bite my tongue, almost clean in half. Semper Fi read more

I graduated from MCRD San Diego in November of 1959. I was selected as the Honor Man of my Platoon 156. At the graduation ceremony I was presented my certificate by Col R. W. Boyd, Commanding Officer Recruit Training Command. After graduation and ITR at Camp Pendleton I received my orders to go to MCB 29 Palms. After 1 year one of my buddies Cpl Kosloski who was the driver for Col Boyd was being discharged in about a month.
Col. Boyd asked him to find a new driver. Cpl Kosloski asked me if I wanted the job. At first I was hesitant because as a young marine I kind of feared Officers and this was a Col. that I would be driving for. Kosloski told me that Col Boyd was a great man to drive for and that driving the Col would be my only job. I would carry my liberty card with me and when the Col was off, I was off. Hearing this I went to an interview with the Col. Kosloski and I entered the Col’s office and Kosloski introduced me to the Col. The Col asked me if Potocki is a Polish name and I said yes sir. The Col then thanked Kosloski for bringing him another Polish marine and further stated that if I was as good as he was I would be his new driver. I drove along with Kosloski until he was discharged so I could learn the ropes. read more

Parris Island, October 31st, 1969
It was 3rd Battalion, Platoon 3061’s turn for guard duty on the Bayonet course. For some reason I was chosen for 1am-2am walk, It was chilly, but not too bad in South Carolina that evening, and I was taken to the point where I would meet my predecessor on this post. After a few minutes, the other private arrived, and together we walked the course. Many of you may remember the Bayonet Course. You went down and around a series of somewhat wooded paths, and every so often you would meet the “Enemy.” The enemy being life sized, dark green dummies that we were to “stab,” or butt with the rifles, as we ran by. Kind of a fun time, right?
Well on October 31st at 1am it was a slightly different story. To begin with there was a full moon. And then there was the partly cloudy sky that made it the perfect Halloween sky. Finally, the partly wooded paths cast perfect Halloween shadows on the paths.
The private who has preceded me, and who led me around the course that I was to walk seemed overly nervous for some reason. I think all he really said was, “This place is spooky.” With the two of us supporting each other I didn’t see the problem, but after a turn I was on my own. Hey, I was a Marine Recruit, I can take on anything. But in the eerie shadows of the path things were different. I turned a corned and my heart skipped a beat when someone was unexpectedly standing there in the shadows facing me! It only took only a moment to realize it was a bayonet dummy and I breathed a sigh of relief. —until I turned another corner and repeated the experience.
I know, I know these were inanimate structures and nothing to be frightened of. But on a creepy night, by the light of a partly obscured full moon, your mind forgot all of that, and nearly each time I came across one of the shadowy green bodies in the shadowy, I had a similar experience. I was both embarrassed and ashamed of myself for reacting this way, but on and on it went. I did perhaps ten to fifteen circuits during my hour. And even got to mentally counting out the amount of time for each circuit, both in an attempt to calm myself, and to figure out how much time I had left in this “House of Horrors.” Finally I came to the end/beginning and there was my relief. Never has that word, “Relief,” meant so much! I took a turn with this next victim, and tried to warn him as best I could, knowing that nothing would really help.
Years later, when reflecting on this, the thought came to me that they should make a late night charge though the Bayonet field a regular experience for recruits, but I though the better of it as the experience could not be the same with other comrades so nearby! It was the loneliness that heightened the fear. I have also wondered how many who walked that route in the late night has the same reaction. I know that everyone that walked it that night did, although we rarely talked about it openly after that.
S/Sgt Shuttleworth USMC
1969-1972/1975-1980. read more

1964 I first met my new daily dress: utilities. In about 3 years of crawling around various places in the US and in Asia, I slowly came to understand the inventor of the fabric had clearly HEARD the uniform procuring officer’s request but when he WROTE it down he got it assbackwards. He wrote — Keep Marines warm in Summer and Cold in Winter.
When that thought occurred to me (riding in a damned Helli-Hopper) I chuckled, and ‘Swede’ sitting next to me said “What?”
“It’s all just assbackwards!” I said.
He grunted and muttered “Yeah!” read more

I just wanted to say that I miss Gunny White, S/Sgt Sanborne, and Sgt. Broom.” Platoon 1142 on the Road”, the shit was on!!! MCRD San Diego July 1969. Tried to go to church on Sunday, but damn the preacher was mean too! He had PFC’s and L/cpl’s walking down the aisles, slapping you in the back of the head for nodding off; after a few weeks they would let us buy a newspaper and I would sit on my bucket and read about the Tate-Labianca murders by Charles Manson. The groovy people at Woodstock sure made me homesick too. read more