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.
A Marine’s Christmas
‘Twas the night before Christmas, he lived all alone,
In a one bedroom house made of plaster and stone.
I had come down the chimney with presents to give,
And had to see just who in this home did live.
I looked all about, a strange sight I did see,
No tinsel, No Presents, Not even a tree.
In 1948 at MCRD San Diego I was issued 1ea Coat Winter Green and 1ea Jacket Winter Green. That was the desingation as listed on a hand out for laying-out “Junk-on- the Bunk” while I was stationed at Marine Barracks NAS San Diego, CA. I wore said “Jacket”for the next 18 years untill the curent Uniform became avilalbe. The “Jacket” was a betterfit than the long “Coat” . I never in 20+ years on active duty heard it refered to as an “Ike”. Some did refer to the short Jacket as a so called “Battle Jacket”. Check with the “Uniforam Branck” HQMC for correct termonolagdely cir 1940s to 1960s
William F Beasley
GySgt USMC (ret)
One of the “Chosin Few”
Daniel Flynn indicated that the term “Battle” Jacket was utilized by Marines, and soldiers wore “Ike” Jackets.
I obtained my Marine “Ike” jacket sometime in late 1953 and being somewhere near 80, I do not remember exactly how I came to own it. The only name on the inside of the upper right sleeve is mine. I have photos where I am wearing it as a PFC; Cpl; and Sergeant (E-4) Since the jacket has the stripes of a Sergeant (E-4), I must have stopped wearing it by the time I was promoted to Sergeant E-5) in March of 1961. I remember how proud I was to earn Sergeant (E-5) and if that jacket could still be worn, it would have had Sergeant (E-5) stripes sewn on.
Being short was never a big concern for me because I had never considered it as a disadvantage. I had always been husky and solidly built in my youth and able to handle any physical confrontations that arose. That didn’t change when I entered the military. In fact, I flourished in that environment. Prior to joining the Marines I had spent a short hitch in the Army and dazzled my drill sergeants with high scores on their boot camp physical fitness tests. I did the same in the Marines. However, Marine Corps training differed from the Army. It was more intense and disciplined.
Ham & MoFos were beyond nasty. Some guys tried to doctor them with hot sauce and/or C-ration cheese. Absolutely nothing could help them other than when they became landfill.
I have seen the first photo many – many times. I have never gazed upon that second photo… and from now on, I will grab the eye bleach before making another sighting.
Another inspection at Marine Barracks, Naha… the inspecting officer is Lt.Gen Alan Shapely, at the time the CG, FMF PAC. On December 7th, 1941, he was aboard the USS Arizona, as a Major, and had just been relieved the previous day as the CO of Arizona’s Marine Detachment. He had stayed aboard, as his Marines were scheduled to play in a championship baseball game that Sunday. He was aloft, with a cup of coffee, when the Japanese struck. He was blown, naked, into the water… and helped others swim ashore on Ford Island. Note, if you can see the detail, that those are brass claws, just above my left hand… meaning that we had leather slings… field marching pack, one canteen…
In 1975, I was a Weapons Platoon Sergeant with Fox 2/7 at San Mateo, Camp Pendelton. All of the Battalion NCO’s including myself were attending our monthly NCO meeting. Sgt.Maj. Yanachi was an Eskimo Indian, but to hear him tell it he was Born at Tun Tavern. The Sgt.Maj. when answering a question would always start out with “Well I remember in the Old Corps when all you young kids wer just a twinkle in your daddy’s eye,” and we would all give a little laugh. Being the Smart-Ass Comedian Sgt. that I was… I raised my hand and Sgt.Maj. pointed at me and said “Yes SGT. HAMMER.” I stood up and asked him if he had any pictures of himself polishing his Sword and Shield in the Old Corps? Some NCO’s were laughing and most were wide eyed going OOOOOH! He turned around to the podium (I thought he was ignoring me) and picked up the Battalion NCO Duty Roster, turning back to face me he said “NO, I’m sorry to say I don’t Sgt. Hammer, but I promise I’ll be here every weekend this month to take your picture at the battalion guard duty desk.” He then ripped the schedule in half and threw it over his shoulder and looking around the room at all the other NCO’s said “Is there any other questions?” “NO. Alright then, I want everybody here to thank Sgt. Hammer for volunteering for duty NCO this month so that his fellow Marine NCO’s can enjoy their weekends this month… Isn’t that right Sgt. Hammer?” I snapped to attention and yelled “Aye aye Sergeant Major!” Everybody snapped to attention and Sgt.Maj. yelled “DISMISSED” everybody was laughing so loud you wouldn’t have heard a grenade go off. Every NCO patting me on the back saying “Way to go Hammer, Thanks!”. I Loved the then and still do, I didn’t mind at all. My Wife and Kids all lived on Base at 633-A Puller Place a five bedroom 2-1/2 bath NEW home. And I Respected the Sgt.Maj. more than any man on the Base. I read Sgt.Maj. Yanachi’s Presidential Citation that on a mountain top in South Vietnam went outside the wire one night with no weapon other than his “Razor Sharp” E-tool to dig a “Cat-Hole” (out of Respect for his fellow Company Marines). On the way back to his position The Marines came under Attack. The Sgt.Maj. surrounded by Combat Armed NVA’s who not wanting to fire their weapons at one “Lone Marine” and alert the Company of Marines inside the wire attempted to bayonet the (then) 1st.Sgt. Yanachi, He just started swinging that E-tool in all Directions. It was later determined (after the battle) that THIRTEEN (13) Enemy Soldiers had been killed by an E-tool. Sergeant Major Yanachi told me he had to dig a second Cat-Hole inside the wire to clean out his shorts. I TREASURE the memories of every day I served in the Corps from 1972 to 1978 even the bad ones.
In the early 1970 I was on Recruiting duty in the San Jose area south of San Francisco. We had several small offices there. About once or twice a week I’d make a trip to HQ 12 the Marine Corps Dist at 100 Harrison St downtown Frisco to pick up supplies and what not, deliver case files, police checks, and what nots. The Gunny who was in charge of supplies knew I was starting to collect WWl and WWll firearms. He told me about a gun store just up a few blocks from HQ where they had a Remington 03A3 for sale (cheap). So I’m thinking, I’m here so I better take a look. Now parking was a real problem in this area so I figured I’d just walk over as it was only a couple of blocks. This area that HQ was in was also noted for being home to a bunch of panhandlers, winos, and all sorts of odd balls. If you were in uniform, you could and would get a bunch of cat calls and B.S. from this bunch. Even though you wanted to drop kick a few of ’em we were instructed to ignore they’re BS. So I go to the store, looked at the firearms and figured I was here, had money in pocket. The kids would have to live on peanut butter and jam for a week but what the hell, a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do, right. So I paid for the piece and walked out the door. As I stood on the sidewalk, rifle in hand, I think how do I carry this thing back to HQ. Port arms, trail arms or right shoulder arms or what? So I take it by the forearm, butt stock over my shoulder and took off. I hadn’t gone 10 feet and I knew I’d made a bad decision about not driving. The first people walking on the street who saw me ducked in the nearest store or they crossed the street and the further I went more of ’em vanished. I passed a SFPD car with two cops sitting it, they looked at me nodded, I nodded and kept walking. I think I know how Moses felt at the Red sea. When I got to 100 Harrison St, no cat calls this time. Nobody said anything. As I was telling the gunny what I did, the Major came out of his office, looked the rifle over, handed it back and as he walked away I remember his words like it was yesterday ”Top, hope you were smart enough to put it in a gun case.”
I served with VMFA-314 from Nov. ’67 to Dec. ’68 in Chu Lai. In a past posting, I had mentioned Operation Military Embrace, and the Watermelon Run For The Fallen in Hempstead, TX, where I had reunited with some of my Vietnam brothers last August. This time, I’m sending some pictures of my father, Harry W. Kiehnle, who enlisted in 1922. He was a seagoing Marine and a bugler, who was stationed on the Battleship Utah for the Friendship tour of South America that sent General John J. Pershing to meet with South American heads of state, as he was still highly respected after having served as General of the Armies in WW I.
The ultimate response to a Dear John letter…
You gotta love a man like this, Humor in the face of defeat.
A Marine was deployed to Afghanistan. While he was there he received a letter from his girlfriend. In the letter, she explained that she had slept with two guys while he had been gone and she wanted to break up with him. AND, she wanted pictures of herself back.
So the Marine did what any squared-away Marine would do. He went around to his buddies and collected all the unwanted photos of women he could find. He then mailed about 25 pictures of women (with clothes and without) to his girlfriend with the following note:
“I don’t remember which one you are. Please remove your picture and send the rest back.”
