Category: Marine Corps Stories

24 MAU in Beirut

I was hoping to catch up with some of my fellow Marine’s that I spent a part of my life with that I’ll never forget! Fom a working port in Hifia, to the train ride to Tel Aviv, then Jerusalem. Then of course the no duty store for the ride back with Johnny Walker. We did have fun, but it never took the true pain away! Making Grape hooch down in the well deck of the USS Nassau (Being a Marine I never thought I’d say she was a GOOD ship). Never did we forget the REAL reason we were there! God bless our Hero’s that gave all! And are still giving! read more

40 Round Magazine

I saw an AK-47 while in Vietnam and it had a 30 round magazine. So I cut the top and bottom off of a couple of M-14 Magazines and welded them together and made a “40” Round magazine for my M-14. It really didn’t work very well when test firing it, several of the last rounds would not chamber with only two springs. So I put “three” springs into the magazine, but then I could only load a little over 30 rounds. There just wasn’t enough room for three springs and 40 Full Metal Jacket rounds in that magazine. I sure received some strange looks while walking around with my 40 round magazine. read more

Extending In Nam

For all it’s worth, I drew combat pay for some 41 months in RVN, all but the first six months in direct combat assignments. I arrived in May of ’67 and was assigned to the 1st MarDiv G-2 shop on Hill 327 until November of the same year. (My OQR showed I spoke French and somehow Division thought that might come in handy – it didn’t.) From there I went to 1st Force Recon Co. until June ’68, extended and went to 1st Recon Bn. until January ’69, extended again, and was seconded to the PRU program until September ’69. While on extension leave in Jan. ’69, I managed to visit Kabul, Afghanistan, and stayed with the MSGs at the Marine House. The Gunny there, the MSG NCOIC, was a great host, showed me all around town, and helped me get a flintlock musket at the bazaar that had been captured from the British army by Afghan guerrillas ca. 1842. It has a stamp on the firing mechanism “VEIC 1807”, for ‘Venerable East India Company 1807’. I haven’t been back to Kabul since – maybe now’s not a good time to visit. read more

“Born Again Hard”

Like all Corpsman, I started at Navy Boot Camp, 1980. Over the next seven years, I was with the Blue Side. But in 1987, the Navy saw fit to train me “Green”. Despite graduating from Field Medical Service School in December of 1987, I didn’t “get it” until February 1988. I was assigned to the Northern Training Area, Okinawa. Within two weeks, the Marines signed me up for Rappel Master Training. Never having Rappelled before, I was “unsure”. When it became my turn to do the slack-jump off the helo-simulator on the cliff, I panicked. The thought of having to slack jump out of an actual helo the following day pushed me over the edge. I walked off the obstacle, not realizing what the repercussions would be. For the next three months, I was piranha. A non-being. At a command of less than 40 personnel, isolated in the Okinawa jungle, I was in hell, branded a coward. After a month of being cut off from everyone at NTA, I was begging the senior Corpsman for a transfer. He said it was impossible. “What else can I do?” He said, “earn back their respect.” For the next two months, I stayed in the bush. If there was a training op, I stayed out there, night and day. I didn’t expect to be acknowledged by the NTA Marines. And I wasn’t. Then one day, three months after my mistake on the cliff, I was making my way across the Commando Crawl obstacle. Halfway across the Shanghai River, I spoke to the Chief Instructor on the far side of the cliff, “I can’t take back what I did that day on the cliff Staff Sgt. But given these past two months, I wish I had done the slack jump. If the rope had snapped, I would have been better off than I am now.” As I came off the obstacle, I went past him. He didn’t acknowledge me. I didn’t expect him to. A week later, my senior Corpman took me aside and said, “The Senior Instructor acknowleded your efforts today, saying, “At least he’s out there trying.”  A couple of nights later, we were doing a night rappel into training smoke. The Rappel Master yelled out, “Navy, on rappel!” (I hadn’t heard the term “Doc” in over three months). I came off the line and couldn’t see my hand in front of my face. Then the Chief Instructor’s voice was next to me, “Now that you’ve grown a pair, put in another request for enrollment. I’m not saying it will be accepted. It’s never been done before.” And he was gone. The next morning, he walked into his office and found my request chit with a pen, sitting on his desk. A couple of days later, the next class of Rappel Master started. When it came time for the slack-jump, I was all over the process of tying the knots. The lead instructor for the obstacle spoke to me, “I know you want to be the first one down Doc (my first time hearing that title), but I have to go first, then you.” The obstacle was being run by a student, but one of the NTA Marines took over. He grabbed me by the blouse and looked me in the eye. “Just do it. Don’t think about it.” He hit me on the helmet and I jumped. I got to the ground and every available NTA Instructor was on hand to clap me on the back and tell me, “good job, Doc!” From that moment in my life, I strived never again to bring dishonor upon myself, or upon Corpsman, or upon my Marines. When I look back, I consider that the day I was “Baptised in The Corps.” read more

Helmand, Afghanistan 2009

Sept. 29th 2009 is the date this story takes place. To begin I served as a Weapons Co. Heavy Machine-Gunner (0331 2/8 wpns co.) Our plt. pushed out from FOB Delhi early that afternoon to patrol some new area’s of the western desert we had not yet visited. EOD accompanied us as the area we were headed was known to be riddled with IED’s. My section establised a VCP by the “main” road, While section one began clearing the ridge we intended to establish support by fire positions on. read more

“Pig”

In 1969 while serving in the 1st MAW in DaNang, I was at the airstrip waiting to catch a C-130 for Chu Lai when a little guy came out of nowhere… He jumped in my lap and looked hungry. I took him back to the compound and got him some chow & water. We became good buddies for the next 4 months. I named him “Pig” because he would eat anything!  He was a great little guy! read more

Colorado Mounted Marines 1958-1962

In 1957 my dad B.A. Weil took me to the Denver coliseum to see the scotch drum and bugle corps the Black Watch. It was spectacular; a chill ran up and down my spine. The USMC had a Color guard in the show that was real eye catching. While there dad became reacquainted with Captain Gene Martin USMC who was in charge of the color guard. Dad a 4th Cavalry Captain who served in China, Burma and India [including a horse back reconisince thru Mongolia to Tibet] had known Captain Martin somewhere along the way. After much talk over some time Martin got permission to start a mounted color guard with dad. Many mounted color guards use English saddles and tack which was not at all true Horse Marine equipment. Dad wanted the project done correct as he was the real deal, in the last of the real mounted Calvary. Dad had horses for his outfitting hunting business, the use of which he offered. He sourced and purchased 5 sets of authentic McClellan saddles and tack made in India. Marine volunteers mostly from the Denver recuting center were trained by dad with me being the young gopher stable man. The Denver post and Rocky mountain news ran stories on the colorful mounted guard doing many parades in Denver. We still have photos and news stories. At 19, I enlisted in the Corp spending 6 years in the reserve. Captain Martian retired to Crested Butte as a major. Dad received an accommodation from the Corp for his Mounted color guard work. He had received recognition as well in WWII, shot twice while jumping behind Japanese lines as an OSS officer, captured and tortured. He was rescued by Burmese teens younger them I when I enlisted. He took the surrender of main land Japanese as the XO, lt. colonel for the day. We still have the samurai surrender sword. read more

Eyes Of A Gunnery Sergeant

“The Gunny”

When I first went into the Marine Corps my DI was a Platoon Sergeant, he was something akin to a God, Officers were beyond that because we only saw them once or twice. Then when we went to the Rifle Range at Camp Matthews and were snapping in with our M1 rifles. I’m afraid I still had some of that softness remaining from civilian life (from just a few weeks before) and fell asleep while snapping-in in the Prone position. I was awakened by being picked up by collar and seat to a great height and dropped. I landed atop my M1, my chin hurt, my chest hurt and I believe my knees hurt somewhat also. I looked up into the flaming eyes of a Gunnery Sergeant who had to be something between a God and the Devil, if I read those eyes right and the flow of language, I felt I was near Death. He then picked me up off the ground and set me to doing Off Hand with him watching my every move. When the rifle muzzle dipped I got a whack and I got madder, another whack and I got so d-mn mad I was going to lower my rifle and slug him. read more

Mounted Color Guard

I had the extreme pleasure of serving for one of the finest Marine Commanders – LtGen William M. Keys when he was a LtCol Commanding 3rd Battalion 5th Marines  in 1977-1979.  He was also a horseman and allowed me to participate on the Camp Pendleton Mounted Color Guard in a TAD status.  While on the Color Guard I came under the Command of another great man – Major Jim DiBernardo (deceased 2009) who spent 62 months as a POW in Viet Nam.  The Mounted Color Guard came under Joint Public Affairs MCB Camp Pendleton.  After saying all that, here is my OOORAH story …. read more