Category: Marine Corps Stories

Photos of vehicles needing restoration at the Marine Mechanized Museum at Camp Pendleton. If I am not mistaken some of those are Ontos’s.

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 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 complemented me on my new found 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, 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 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 under weight 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

Sgt Grit,

Just got your newsletter and there is a letter from Doran Cooper that was at Camp Gifu and was in Anglico. I was at Camp Gifu 1955 in Hg Bn Hg Co Comm Anglico Plt.

Here's some pictures. One is Me, Bernie standing in front of our tarpaper barracks. The others are taken on Iwo Jima Feb 1956 of the monument on top of Mt Suribachi. The coast line from there and the Mt from below. We made a landing there set up Radio nets remoted our Jeeps to the CP. There was air strikes. read more