Category: Marine Corps Stories

“Some people wonder all their lives if they’ve made a difference. Marines don’t have that problem.” – Ronald Reagan A Marine assigned to the 24th Marine Expeditionary Unit (MEU) calms an infant during an evacuation at Hamid Karzai International Airport, Kabul, Afghanistan, Aug. 20. U.S. service members and coalition partners are assisting the Department of State with a Non-combatant Evacuation Operation (NEO) in Afghanistan. Submit your own Story>>

I know that for many Afghanistan veterans, seeing the nation fall so swiftly into Taliban hands is sad, disappointing, and infuriating. Many of you spent your youth and the worst days of your life serving in this war. Just know that you did exactly what your nation asked of you, and the failure in Afghanistan was a failure of policy from the people at the top, not the Lance Corporals on the ground. You fought for the Marines to your left and right to make it through each day. Reach out to any Marines you know who served in Afghanistan and just ask them how they’re doing. It certainly can’t hurt. Author: @Terminal Lance Submit your own Story>>

MARINE OF THE WEEK:

Lance Cpl. Christopher S. Adlesperger
3rd Battalion, 5th Marines
Fallujah, Iraq, Nov. 10, 2004
Award: Navy Cross (awarded posthumously)

As Lance Cpl. Adlesperger made entry into a house in the Jolan District of Al Fallujah during Operation AL FAJR, his squad received a heavy volume of enemy machine gun fire from a well-prepared entrenched machine gun position. These fires instantly killed the point man, and injured another Marine and the platoon corpsman. Exposed to heavy enemy machine gun fire and grenades, Adlesperger immediately attacked the enemy with rifle fire. While doing so, he suffered a fragmentation wound from enemy grenades. With the majority of his platoon pinned down by insurgent positions, Adlesperger single-handedly cleared stairs and a roof top to move the injured to a rooftop where they could receive medical attention. On his own initiative, while deliberately exposing himself to heavy enemy fire, he established a series of firing positions and attacked the enemy, forcing them to be destroyed in place or to move into an area where adjacent forces could engage them. Disregarding his own wounds and physical exhaustion, Adlesperger rejoined his platoon and demanded to take the point for a final assault on the same machine gun position. Once an Assault Amphibian Vehicle created a breach in the wall adjacent to the enemy’s position, Adlesperger was the first Marine to re-enter the courtyard where he eliminated a remaining insurgent at close range. When the fighting finally ceased, a significant number of insurgents from fortified positions had been eradicated. Through his actions, Adlesperger destroyed the last strongpoint in the Jolan District of Al Fallujah, and saved the lives of his fellow Marines. Sadly, he was later killed in action. Semper Fi, Marine. (U.S. Marine Corps & Adlesperger family photos) read more

A Marine Wantabe in Waiting I enlisted in the United States Marine Corps between my junior and senior years of high school, the year was 1977.  The summer had just begun and I had been out goofing off as usual.  I arrived home and my mother told me that the recruiter had called and wanted to talk to me.  Now I had already decided that I was going to enlist, I just didn’t know that I could do it so soon.  You see my brother-in-law had enlisted in the Corps several years prior and my older brother had enlisted just the year before.  I had visited the Air Force recruiter when I was just 15 with an older friend that was thinking about joining.  I remember telling my Dad about this and he, being a retired Air Force Technical Sergeant (having been passed over for Master Sergeant), told me that if I wanted to join the Air Force that he would NOT sign the papers. Flash back one year to 1976; I remember the day my brother got home for boot camp.  I was in school so could not go with my parents to pick him up from the airport.  I was however home from school when they arrived.  I heard the car doors and knew it was them so I trotted out to meet my big brother and welcome him home.  As I’m approaching him he reaches into the car and with one hand pulls out his sea bag (duffel bag for you airmen) says “catch” and tosses it to me.  Well I caught it alright, and ended up flat on my back in the middle of the yard under 100 pounds of dirty laundry.  Needless to say we all got a laugh out of that little prank.  I wonder if he planned it???? Quickly flash forward 2 years to 1978 and another incident involving my brother and myself.  I had just returned home from boot camp and my brother was also home.  He had planned to leave to make sure we could be home together.  We are sitting at the bar in our kitchen and like normal we took each other on in a match of arm wrestling.  Now up to this point in my life, I had never been able to beat him (he was after all 2 years older than me).  But this day was different.  This time we were evenly matched.  We locked arms and went after it.  Our mom was watching and laughing, so proud of her 2 young Marines; so proud and laughing at us groaning and straining and turning bright red.  We finally decided that it was a draw; my brother complimented me on my newfound strength and we laughed about it.  Our mom offers us a piece of fresh cherry pie and being her 2 hungry young warriors, we accepted.  She gets a whole freshly baked cherry pie, cuts it in half, then we say in unison “That’s good” and proceed to each eat our half.  She laughed and I think was somewhat amazed that these two eating machines devoured the entire pie without stopping.  In our defense, I will say that it was the first real home cooking either of us had had in several months.  And besides, we were hungry.  She said that our dad was going to be mad that we didn’t save any for him but that she’d make another one.  We both promised to let him share in the next one …. We did. Ok, enough time travel, back to 1977.  I got the recruiter’s number from my mom and gave him a call; we set up a meeting for the next day.  He arrived on schedule and proceeded to go into his “sales pitch”.  After a few minutes, I interrupted him and told him about my dad, brother-in-law, and older brother.  I told him I was ready to sign, go to strange and exotic lands, meet wondrous and foreign people, and kill them, the easiest sale he ever made.  It all happened so fast that I was on the bus the next day to go to the AFEES center.  In my day there was some confusion in acronyms, we had AFEES (Armed Forces Entrance and Exam Stations) and AAFES (Army Air Force Exchange Service).  I was glad they finally cleared that up with MEPS (Military Entrance Processing Station). So the next day I journeyed from Wichita Falls, TX to Amarillo, TX by bus; stopping at every stop sign, crossroad, and wide spot in the road, and I do believe we did even pick up a few stragglers along the way.  Anyway, at the AFEES or MEPS, we underwent the normal procedures; which for some odd reason involved us running around most of the day in our underwear.  And yes, I did have on clean undies, no streaks, no runs, no errors.  What sticks out in my mind from that day was when we were in line to “give” blood (like we had a choice).  I was the smallest guy in the room, and the only one enlisting in the Marine Corps.  Right in front of me there was a guy that must have been the high school quarterback, big, tall, wide shoulders.  When he was next in line watching the enlistee in front of him get poked, this big bulk of a boy took a nose dive to the floor, he passed smooth out.  I stood there behind him, the corpsman looks at me and says “well I guess your next”, so I stepped over this human speed bump, sat down in the little school chair, placed my right arm in “poking” position, and proceed to “give”. By the end of the day I had done it, I was a Marine, or rather signed up to be a Marine.  I was in the delayed entry program and officially in the United States Marine Corps Reserve.  It was the proudest day of my young life; I had done something that I thought meant something.  I had made a commitment and there was no turning back now.  I had taken the oath (clothed) and was ready for my first assignment and it came immediately.  I was to return home, complete high school (successfully), and try to recruit others I knew to join “The World’s Finest”.  Since I was in high school Army ROTC I was already guaranteed PFC (E-2) at enlistment so I didn’t really feel an urgent need to add to the ranks.  I did, however, tell my best friend Doug what I did and since he also had an older brother in the Corps he enlisted.  Then there was my lifelong friend Greg, I’m not sure if I “recruited” him or not, but he also enlisted. So I’m back home, the new school year has started, my senior year.  And like all 17-year-old boys I was a hormone looking for a place to happen; never much of a student; except for ROTC.  That was the class I loved, that was my focus.  In those days the Texas Board of Education had the students on a trimester system.  That is the school year was divided into three equal parts of 3 months each.  They had also designated summer school as the fourth trimester, now I’m not a mathematician, but I do believe that “tri” indicates “three” not “four”, but let’s not get off into the Texas education system.  Anyway, not being much of a “bookworm” I was less than eager to endure 9 months of this mind-numbing torture.  But endure I did, as best I could, for as long as I could.  I was getting very frustrated and wanted to drop out, just leave and head to the Marines.  Now I’m a little guy, at that time, 5’4” 105 pounds.  I was almost underweight for the Corps so my recruiter kept very close tabs on me and on many occasions bought me vanilla milkshakes (my favorite) to keep me from losing weight.  He didn’t want to lose this little poolee. On one of those occasions, near the end of the 2nd trimester (it sounds like I’m pregnant), I told him of my frustration about school and wanting to just quit and head to the Marines.  He told me that I had a “conditional contract” that required me to successfully complete high school in order to be accepted for active duty.  I have no idea if he was telling the truth or not, but he did manage to keep me in school with that argument and with an offer he placed in front of me.  He told me about VOE (Vocational Office Education) a school program that allowed me to go to school half a day and work the other half.  And then he clinched the deal, he said I could “work” for him at the recruiting office (for no pay) and he would “validate” my enrollment into VOE.  So I was hooked, it sounded like a great deal to me.  He told me my only duty would be to answer the phone and he would buy me a vanilla shake every day.  What a deal, half day at school and free shakes!!!!!  The only down side (from my perspective at the time) was I had no “wheels”, at least not the motorized kind, I was stuck with my brothers old 10 speed bike.  Now it was 7 miles each way from my parents house to the recruiting office downtown, so if I wanted this “deal” I would have to suck it up and make the ride, round trip, 5 days a week.  I took the deal, made the ride and finished high school (I got to walk across the stage and they handed me something and said don’t come back). In retrospect I can see my recruiter did me a great service, not only did he keep me in school to the end and see it successfully completed, but he also gave me 3 months of good physical exercise that, no doubt, helped me make it through what was to be the most intensive physical and mental challenge I’ve ever endured.  And even today, when I’m faced with what might seem like impossible odds, I remember those days on “the grinder” and think to myself “this isn’t so bad”.  But at this point in my life “The Grinder” was yet to come. John H. Hardin Sgt, USMC 1978 – 1984 Submit your own Story>>

Sgt. Grit,

It’s funny, lately, I’ve been meeting Marines that served during the ’80s, ’90s, and 00’s years, and when we talk about our experiences, enlistment years, and MOS I always have a hard time explaining the 106mm Recoilless Rifle and 50cal spotting rifle.  They have absolutely no idea what this fine weapon was all about and how much fun it was to shoot! read more

Master Sgt. Aaron Torian
2nd Marine Special Operations Battalion
Afghanistan, Jan. 29, 2014
Award: Bronze Star Medal w/ Combat “V”

During a combat operation in Afghanistan, Master Sgt. Torian’s unit came under heavy machine gun and underslung grenade-launcher fire. Maneuvering across open terrain, Torian exposed himself to enemy fire in order to establish better satellite communications and observe the enemy’s maneuvers. He then effectively coordinated multiple rotary-wing close air support missions with rockets, guns, and a hellfire missile. Two weeks later, he was killed in action. “What I admire most about Aaron was his relentless, competitive spirit; unrivaled work capacity and zest for life, family and friends,” said Charlie Goodyear, a long-time friend. “All these things made him an incredible Marine, friend, husband, and father to his family.” read more