I am testing the story post page.
Jesse.
Sgt Grit is a place where Marines can come and meet other Marines, share tattoos and stories, keep up with Marine Corps news, or shop for USMC gear.
I am testing the story post page.
Jesse.
"Harford County Marines Have Landed". Visiting Walter Reed Hospital to Support Wounded Warriors and their Families.
The Marine Corps League, Harford County Detachment 1198, joined forces with Marines Helping Marines on May 15th at the Walter Reed, Bethesda Naval Hospital. The mission was to help Wounded Warriors and their families of all military branches have a good "home cooked" (grilled) meal.
I got paralyzed in the Marine Corps while rescuing a fellow Marine. Now I'm a quadriplegic and I drive from my wheelchair. Here are some pics of my 2010 wheelchair accessible Dodge Grand Caravan, which I customized to honor America and the Marine Corps!
A while back, I posted a story about Lorton Berry. He had been in the Navy, 1940-46. Was attached to the 1st Mar Div, communications, in the Pacific. Served at Guadalcanal, Tinian and Peleliu, to name a few. Knew "Chesty". When I met him, he said he was missing some medals and one was purple. I contacted Rep. Marsha Blackburn in TN. Took a while, but her office was in contact with his daughter. And, a gentleman from Memphis Honor Flights contacted me, via Sgt. Grit. Thanks, Sgt.
I found a book sold in the PX at Camp LeJeune in 1943. I scanned a couple pages in case you would like to show them so Boots could see what we had in those Good Old Days. By the way I listed it on ebay in case any one might want it.
GySgt. F. L. Rousseau, USMC
Trimeresurus, aka: Green viper, pit viper, bamboo viper… I don't care what you call them. I didn't like 'em, stayed clear.
Sgt Grit
When I graduated from boot camp, MCRDSD (1962), I remember having a choice of either Sea Duty or Embassy Duty. I talked to my Senior Drill Instructor (Gunnery Sergeant Venizia) and asked him what his thoughts were on my duty station choices. I remember very clearly his words to me. "Sea Duty is the greatest duty station the Marine Corps can offer you… now, YOU make the choice!"
My daughter, her boyfriend, and I were attending the Angels vs. White Sox game on 18 May at Anaheim Stadium. Of course it was Armed Forces Day and they went all out. All five of the services were well represented and you could feel the emotion in the stadium. They saluted the current members and had all former members remain standing and recognized us as well.
WEORLD WAR TWO – "A HELL HOLE"
A MARINE'S STORY THIS MEMORIAL DAY WEEKEND. I am compelled, this Memorial Day Eve, to share my thoughts, with tearful eyes, in memory of my father, Master Sergeant, Joseph Florian Gagne, US Marine Corps. He fought in World War II, Guadal Canal in the South Pacific. He and his fellow Marines were pinned down in a swamp, up to their waist's in water, with no ammunition. They were in the water for 2 solid weeks. They reached for vines, pulling them down off overhead tree branches, wrapping them around themselves, just in case they should fall asleep and not drown overnight. All Dad had to fight with, was a long screwdriver and why he earned the name "Screw Driver Joe ". Finally, Naval ships arrived, bombing the island, rescuing the Marines, as they overtook the Japanese soldiers, who had pinned the men down in the swamp. Dad made it home in 1944, unlike many many of his fellow Marines. Mom and Dad were married July 17, 1944 and I was born on July 19, 1945. Dad did not talk about Guadal Canal and the "hell hole" it was. When asked about the war, he would respond, "you do not need to know." Dad was also in the Korean War. I remember when we took him to the dark steel train in Augusta, Maine. He with a train full of Soldiers waving out of the windows. I watched the train pull away slowly. For 2 years, Mom cried almost daily, never knowing if he was still alive. Her letter's would come back in bunches, they had not made it to Dad. In the beginning his letters would make it to us and only some to him. Communication was not the same as now. No email or phones, in Korean fighting fields. Dad surprised us all, when he suddenly returned on Christmas Eve. He was dressed as Santa Clause, emptied his large green duffle bag under the tree. It was full of toys, for his then 3 children, myself, younger sister and brother. When Mom saw him come through the french, glassed, parlor doors, she fell on her knees, in tears, shock and relieved. Her husband was home safe! She waited to run to him, so not to give away his identity, ruining our Christmas surprise. As we clamored for all the toys, I turned around and Santa and Mom had left the room! We were left in the care of our Grandmother, Aunts and my God Father, for a good part of that memorable Christmas Eve. Dad's story was included in the book "Men of War", the Naval Admiral asked Dad why he had the screw driver in the side of his boot. Dad said "He might need it". There were write ups in the The Kennebec Journal Newspaper, Readers Digest and Life Maagazine. Also in the KJ newspaper was a copy of a letter written to his Mother about why we must fight this war. It was eloquent. I think it may be evident, with this history, why I have such an attachment to Memorial Day and our military. My Dad's story is only one of thousands and thousands of America's men, who have given their lives, those who have fought, in service to our country. In no way, can we honor their memory and appreciate sufficiently, our men and their families, now in service, for the freedom and security we often take for granted, in this the United States of America. God bless them all. A Proud Maine Corps daughter, LionetteSoldiers Wake Up! Soldiers wake up! Knowing there are missions ahead. A cold, distant, and dark morning, eating away at their bodies . In a strange land. Hesitant, they will continue with a gun in hand. There is no choice; they will rise with their bodies hurt and sore. They will watch out for each other on the field. They all know they must continue. Their minds are focused, straight on the task they so much hate. For they will be in the midst of danger on the battle field,Advancing with pain, injured, and tired. They simply ignore it. This is what they train for. Then after so long, with the suns beating rays battling them. They find this land dry, dark, and dead. Silent and sedate. That's all they knew. For they watch each other, like brothers they know this day's battle will be over. Injured and hurting with scars, and blood and sweat. The day will get dark and cold,The same way it is in the morning. For now they load up, heads held strong,with sorrow, loneliness, yearning, yet accomplishment. Their mission is done for the day; they mournfully eye each other, knowing they can't go home. But remembering sadness and brothers for they have to continue, the next day, and the next. For this is a war for freedom, every day. Someone has to pick up the pieces, a wife, aunt, sister, mother, cousin a family. They know little of those who support them. Let's show our warriors we have hearts. God bless our soldiers.