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.
About the black and marble wall
they mustered in one last roll call,
and as each name was nobly read
in voice heard only by the dead,
each one in proud response confirmed
that they were there in honor earned,
yet still prepared to fill such task
as comrades might of each one ask.
This is a poem being sent from a Marine. For those who read it, his letter is at the bottom of this page to his dad. It makes you truly thankful for all of our troops.
We all came together,
Both young and old.
To fight for our freedom,
To stand and be bold.
Momma raised me to be tough
Drill instructor says I aint tough enough
Momma didn?t raise no quitter
Drill instructor says he aint no babysitter
No more late nights with my friends
Just ten more miles to march up around the bend
I?m marching time, I?m hiking hills, some days it?s really rough
Drill Instructor says I aint done enough
They?re training me hard, training me good
Drill Instructor says I aint training like I should
I don?t wanna do no more
But I keep going because I joined the corps
Momma used to make me spaghetti and meatballs
Now I gotta eat real fast in the chow hall
Momma used to tell me to take the trash out
Now every waking minute I listen to the Drill Instructor shout
Some days I sure don?t want to be here
But getting the attention of the Drill Instructor is my biggest fear
Drill Instructor says I aint good enough
I?ll show him I?m more than tough
Push ups, sit ups, pull ups
Some days I just wanna throw up
Momma I?m getting real strong
Marine boot camp is so long
Little sister sings cadence at home and doesn?t stop
Big brother in San Diego is giving it all he?s got
Got my jungle boots and M16
Learned to camouflage and not be seen
Gonna earn the title United States Marine
Drill Instructor says I got what it takes
Over the wall, under the wire, a Marine he did make.
From the hills of Okinawa to the shores of Tulagia
They fought our country’s battles in the air, on land, and sea.
First to fight for right and freedom and to keep their honor clean
They were proud to claim the title United States Marines.
Some were captured at Corregidor and endured the march Bataan
Others perished at Wake Island, a true hero every man.
Hi, I wrote a poem back when my son had just went to Bootcamp. A friend said I should share this with you, and you in turn share with others.Son, Lcpl Shane currently deployed in Iraq
The first trimester has come and gone,
the broken man, the man I’ve become.
My youthful ways has left my skin,
I bring up my armour, the man within.
A Marine I’m learning to be
so you and I can be free.
Onto the mastering of what I have to give and more,
my strength, my endurance, the best I implore.
For the Marines I have pledged my oath,
to give my heart and soul, I give my both.
I will never be first lady,
Nor grace a movie screen
I?ll never be world-famous
Nor will I be a queen.
But I would never change my lot
With any that I?ve seen.
For you see ? I am the Mother
Of a UNITED STATES MARINE.
Submitted by: Clarence Briggs
This is a thing my mother found in a newspaper back in 1943. She kept it with her till she died in 1978. I’m her son the Marine.
For all the free people that still protest.
You`re welcome.
We protect you and you are protected by the best.
Your voice is strong and loud,
but who will fight for you?
No one standing in your crowd.
We are your fathers, brothers, and sons,
wearing the boots and carrying guns.
We are the ones that leave all we own,
to make sure your future is carved in stone.
We are the ones who fight and die,
We might not be able to save the world,
Well, at least we try.
We walked the paths to where we are at
and we want no choice other than that.
so when you rally your group to complain,
take a look in the back of your brain.
In order for that flag you love to fly
wars must be fought and young men must die.
We came here to fight for the ones we hold dear.
If that`s not respected, we would rather stay here.
So please stop yelling, put down your signs,
and pray for those behind enemy lines.
When the conflict is over and all is well,
be thankful that we chose to go through hell.
I was doing a little cleaning the other day and found a POEM that I wrote in 1962…I was stationed at Lejune from 61-63 (A-1-2-2), and then MCAS Kaneohe, HI 63-64.Sempre Fi….A great site, WE have here. . . . .John Cerullo, Wichita, Ks.
I wrote this last year when my son and his brother marines could be home for Christmas, this year they are in Al Qiam.
SUNG TO THE TUNE OF ADAMS SANDLER’S “HANNUKAH SONG”
There’s a lotta Christmas songs out there, but not too many Marine songs, so I wrote a song for all those nice Marines out there.
My oldest son is currently serving in Iraq — his second tour, and second set of holidays in the sandbox (birthday, Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years and Valentine’s Day). I wanted to share my poem with you, because I know you would appreciate it. God bless our troops.