I entered boot camp at MCRD in July of ’65. My last name, the name I used until that point was different from the last name I used in San Diego because, I was informed, my step Dad had never legally adopted me. You can imagine where this is headed. That’s right. My new name was called for mail call and, like a dummy, I just stood there in a daze until the slap upside the head cleared the thinking part of my brain to make room for more important stuff.
Category: Marine Corps Stories
That Poem
That poem, “The Night They Gunned Down Santa Claus” came down from 1stMarDiv, FMF in Chu Lai in 1966. I have one of the copies which were passed around. We joked that somebody at Division had way too much time on his hands, but we enjoyed it. At the time, India, 3/5 was on “Red Hill”, roughly southwest of Tam Ky providing security for the Battalion and the village of Long Phu (Two).
Sometimes You Have to Look Up
Our granddaughter joined the Air Force and I asked her why she didn’t join the Marine Corps to which she replied, “Grandpa, I don’t think I could take the stress.” I said good for you. Better to realize it before you are on the receiving end of a Drill Instructor rant. Well, most of the family made the drive from Chicago to San Antonio to Lackland Air Force Base for her boot camp graduation. To say I was one proud grandpa, regardless of the branch of service would be an understatement. We had to park a couple of blocks away from the parade area where the graduation would occur, so we walked along the main street and crossed over an expansive bridge and I couldn’t help but look up and notice that every light post had an American flag flying from it, and most were torn and tattered. So now I’m a p-ssed off Marine on an Air Force base. We watch the graduation, which was pretty cool and then our granddaughter took us to show us her barracks. While there I’m introduced to her commanding officer, a Captain, who I thanked for the guidance and training he gave all the Airman and then asked, “is the Commanding General of the base available?” His eyes got real big and asked why to which I replied, “I have a message for the General – it is unacceptable to be on an American military base and have torn and tattered American flags flying.” Well, my family went ballistic on me fearing our granddaughter would lose her weekend liberty. I assured them that a good officer would take it with the intent meant. His response was, “no Generals around here.” We drove back to Chicago and a few days later our granddaughter called and said, “Grandpa, do you remember what you said to that Captain?” I replied, how could I forget after the h-ll I got from the family. She said, “well grandpa, because of what you said they replaced every American flag on the base today.” Mission accomplished. How many times have officers, including the Commanding General, Staff NCO’s and NCO’s traveled along that street and bridge and failed to look up and notice the disgrace looming over their heads? Sometimes you have to look up from what you are doing and recognize what is wrong and get it squared away.
Chaser for the NYC guy that was AWOL 20+ Times!
In addition to the Story of the Chaser and the NYC Escapee, that may have been the same guy that I was charged with as a Chaser at MCB Twentynine Palms in the early 1970’s. The Judge at this individual’s Court Martial ordered me in the Courtroom to ensure that my weapon was loaded in front of the prisoner, with an order to shoot the SOB if he attempted to escape! I delivered him to the Base Brig. By the time I returned to the Judge Advocate Office on the hill, the guy had escaped out the back door of the brig and out across the desert, while the jail was being swabbed down!
Semper Fi
Golf Co., 2nd. Bn. 5th.Marine Regiment, 1st. Marine Division out of AnHoa the unit was on Liberty Bridge for our normal rotation. I don’t recall how long we stayed in this one area but I think it was week or two (help if you know). The company Corpsmen tested the river for bathing and reported that it contaminated so bad that we should not use it even to take a shower with. So the company CO made us stop cleaning with it. Bear with me, I mention this for a reason.
The Gift
As Christmas fast approaches children laugh and adults smile, the gifts wrapped in paper look pretty for awhile. The seasons sounds surround me, I remember when cadence was our song and wrapped in shades of green we sang it all day long. The gift we give is freedom, no greater gift can we impart, for the most precious gift of all is a gift from the heart. Lt. Jansen USMC ret.
Crossing the Blue Line
Talking about drown proofing, remember our training about crossing a river? I know how it should be done even after all these years however; it seem like in Viet Nam we got across as fast as possible. Which always made sense with all those “things” in the water. I recall one time when we were getting ready to go in to the river. We lined up with me behind the Marine carrying the M-79 (the blooper—the sound it made when fired) and that heavy bag of rounds. We called this Marine Barney (Rubble) after the character on The Flintstones because that’s who he look like to us. He was one of the smallest men (about 5’6″) in the platoon and was built like a square block of wood with a great easy laugh. Anyways, Barney jumps in to the river with his weapon and ammo bag over his head. All anyone could see of him was his helmet going a cross the water like a turtle. He made to the other side just in time to breath again. He explain that he couldn’t actually touch the river bottom so he had to tiptoe his way across. We all had a laugh over the sight of watching that helmet going through the water. Barney was laughing the loudest of us all after we explain what he looked like. Thankness he didn’t head in the wrong direct once he got in to river otherwise we might not have seen him again due to how muddy the water was. I can’t wait until Marines learn how to walk on water. That should make the process of river crossings easier for those Marines who stand closer to mother earth.
Do you know what a Chaser in the Marine Corps?
For those of you who are not sure, no I’m not asking about what you call
the second drink you take after a shot. Let me relate a couple of examples of
what a chaser is or does:
1) It was during staging for Vietnam in 1969, we were on the firing range
with these new weapons, the M-16. For those of us, that humped the M-14, this seems like a joke and a few protest about having to fool with these things. Anyways, one of the guys must have gotten into some real trouble with the Range NCOIC because I was called out of line and ordered to stand watch over this Marine. The Range NCOIC used the term Chaser and because of the question on my face, he explained what I was supposed to do. I’m grunt—I mean, after all, my MOS was 0341 that had to mean something special. Sorry—let me get back on track. It was told to me that I was to stay with this Marine and not let him leave the area and to chase after him if he attempted to run. I ask what happens if he can run faster than me. The Range NCO stated that I would take his place—that was not going to happen! I followed my orders and turn this guy over to the MPs when they showed up. I was glad to be done with that duty.
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> 2) I’m in VN with Golf 2/5 minding my own business and trying not to
volunteer (which is how I got to Vietnam in the first place). The company gunny told me to report to Bn.HQ back in AnHoa. It was once again explained to me that I was to be a Chaser for a Marine who had been charged with using drugs. I was ordered to take him to DaNang for a Court Martial Division. By the way, I was not provided with transportation. We manage to catch a couple of choppers and a truck Division. The man was in full compliance with my efforts to get him to DaNang but then again I was carrying an M-16 and a .45—no way was I going to run after him. On the way back, I found us a place to spend the night and some chow and a ride all the way back to AnHoa. The (now) PVT. went back to his company and I went back to the brush. I thought this job would never get done.
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> 3) I got hit in Vietnam and sent to the Naval Hospital in Flushing, an area
in New York City. Once I was able to get around, I was assigned to the Marine Liaison Office at the hospital I would go on to the wards in order to deal with anything the Marines needed or wanted to be done (usually personal gear and calls home). The S/Sgt called me in one day and explain that a Marine who walked away from his unit in Vietnam had managed to get back to the states because he needed medical treatment. He also needed to be taken to Brooklyn Naval Yard for processing. At this point, I started wondering if there was something in my personnel file about my various experiences as a Chaser. I was issued a .45 (I really like that weapon) and instructed not to let anyone question this Marine or get near him. I think it goes without saying that I had no problem with these orders—we all lost friends and/or did our jobs in Vietnam. This coward was not going to have it easy. We sat in the last seats with me on the outside of him and no one got near us. Once we got to the Marine Barracks at the Naval Yard, a 2nd.Lt. was going through this guy’s file and stated that he had 30 days leave coming to him and would he like to take it today. WHAT!! I’m serious. This Lt. gave him leave even thou I explain what my orders were and why. My friends, I’m not BSing you at all. It has since dawn on me that maybe this Marine was a “spook” instead of what I was told. I met one when my unit was at Liberty Bridge; so I know they were there. Anyways, time passes and I’m on leave back home watching the news—we often got news from NYC. It was reported that a Marine deserter was being taken back to the Naval Yard from the hospital when he manages to get away from his guard (chaser) while crossing one of the bridges in the city.
Making a river crossing
Talking about drowning proofing, remember our training about crossing a river? I know how it should be done even after all these years, however; it seems like in Viet Nam we got across as fast as possible. Which always made sense with all those “things” in the water. I recall one time when we were getting ready to go into the river. We lined up with me behind the Marine carrying the M-79 (the blooper—the sound it made when fired) and that heavy bag of rounds. We called this Marine Barney (Rubble) after the character on The Flintstones because that’s who he looks like to us. He was one of the smallest men (about 5’6″) in the platoon and was built like a square block of wood with a great easy laugh. Anyways, Barney jumps into the river with his weapon and ammo bag over his head. All anyone could see of him was his helmet going across the water like a turtle. He made to the other side just in time to breath again. He explains that he couldn’t actually touch the river bottom so he had to tiptoe his way across. We all had a laugh at the sight of watching that helmet going through the water. Barney was laughing the loudest of us all after we explain what he looked like. Thanks he didn’t head in the wrong direction once he got into river otherwise we might not have seen him again due to how muddy the water was. I can’t wait until Marines learn how to walk on water. That should make the process of river crossings easier for those Marines who stand closer to mother earth.
THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS
TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS, AND ALL THROUGH THE CORP, NOT A TROOPIE HAD LIBERTY AND BOY WERE THEY SORE. WE WERE ALL CRASHED OUT, EVERY MAN IN A LOT , IN A BED OF SPIKES, CALLED A MARINE CORPS COT. WHEN OUT ON THE PARADE DECK, THERE AROSE SUCH A CLATTER, I SPRANG FROM MY RACK TO SEE WHAT WAS THE MATTER, OUT OF BREATH,I HID BEHIND THE DOOR WAITING FOR MORE !… WHEN A ROLY POLY FIGURE APPEARED ON THE SCENE, AND TO MY SURPRISE IT WAS THE COMMANDANT OF THE MARINE CORP., YES IT WAS THE GENERAL HIMSELF, THERE WAS NO DOUBT HE WAS WEARING A PONCHO INSIDE OUT, HE MARCHED AROUND EACH MANS RACK CAREFULLY INSPECTING EACH MANS RIFLE AND PACK. TO A FEW HE LAID OUT A 96 CHIT, BUT TO THE MAJORITY A RATION OF SHIT: AS HE PULLED AWAY IN HIS GOLD PLATED TANK PULLED BY TEN PRIVATES PUSHING FOR RANK. I HEARD HIM SHOUT …MERRY CHRISTMAS TO YOU BASTARDS YOU”LL NEVER GET OUT …