The Big Truck

My name is John Ross Jr. I have ordered a lot of stuff from Sgt Grit, as you can see on my truck, I also drive the big truck and you can see that too.

I was in the Marines from 1972-1974. I also have a lot of stuff from Sgt Grit in my house. I like the stuff from yaw. You can see how proud I am to be a Marine. read more

We Want Men Not Married Men

It was on Sept. 4th about 25 or 30 of us were waiting to be sworn in to the Navy when the Chief said he needed to smoke cigarette and go to the head. When he walked out a Marine Staff Sergeant walked in and said they did not have enough going in to the Corps. Then he started to ask who was married. Those that who were married, when they said no, he would say "you're in" and if they said yes he would say, "we want men not married men."    When he had picked 13, he said, "you all just volunteered for the Corps. Of those 13, we all finished and there were only 32 that finished out of the whole platoon.   Top Sherry

Good Number Of Misguided Recruits

Dear Sgt Grit,

Sgt. Dennis Warn's comments about D.I.s and San Diego International
Airport (aka Lindberg Field… see SW corner) brought back a few
memories from my time at MCRD (June-Aug 1968).

MCRD formed a triangle… along one side was the Interstate, along
the base of the triangle was a pond… with the Navy boot camp on the
other side… and the airport on the third side. Perhaps not as
grisly as P.I. for a recruit trying to "flip the fence" but tough
enough. Airport security turned over a good number of misguided
recruits to SDPD who returned them to the Depot. read more

Many Squat Thrusts

Hey Sgt Grit,

I shot these photos late summer of 1968, flying out of San Diego. I was at MCRD for Radio/Electronics school.

The first shot is of the Quonset huts at the south end of MCRD; I was there for boot camp, Plt. 152, A Co., 1st Bat. The close proximity of the airport is obvious. I remember waking up to the sound of jet engines starting and the smell of jet exhaust. read more

Cactus Air Force Marine

Our brothers who have gone before us beared greatly on the fabric of
the Corps we are privileged to wrap ourselves in as Marines past and
present. It saddens my heart as I read the letters in Sgt. Grit and
learn how those from the greatest generation diminish in numbers with
each passing year. I have been blessed to cross paths with a few of
these Marines and cherish those events. read more