We had set up a position so that we could get badly needed resupplies. I was
just standing around wondering, if I started yelling “short” would the CO
believe me and send me back to An Hoa so I could get orders for the states. The
Platoon Sgt. decided that I needed to do some work in order to get such
foolishness out of my head. I volunteered to “off load” the supply choppers. I
have no doubt that every Marine who reads this knows what it’s like to stand in
the open as the chopper is landing in a dirt clearing. After the first one came
in and we managed to push and pull the large crate out of the back of the
chopper; three of us took the plastic sheet and held it up in front of ourselves
for protection. Man, you would have thought we invented the light bulb. We
stood there laughing at the fact that the plastic kept us from being belted.
The second supply chopper (with the water on it) came in and touched down then
took off again before we could take the crate out. Yes. When it took off, we got
hit with dirt, small stones, and so forth and we were so mad that we started to
make up words to call those pilots. Then we hear a sound that every Grunt in
combat knows real well—-AK-47. A sniper thought he/she would try their luck on
these choppers and/or us. Apparently, while the three of us were standing in
the open behind the sheet of plastic; the sniper was using us for target
practice or sighting-in their weapon. So anyways, we were able to take cover in
hole provided by a very large bomb. No one was hit but everyone was upset about
the water. The three of us (volunteers) went to change our trousers. All I
could think of was where is my lucky helmet. Being sniped at twice and being
miss both times was not something I wanted to keep trying—if you know what I
mean?
A foot note to this situation: due to the shortage of water, the third squad
could not make a helmet of hot cocoa over the glow of C-4 and tell their
different stories (or lies). Ever notice how every Marine seems to be the true
gift to women? There sure are a lot of Marines who mistake their imagination for
their memory. Of course, not me—just the other guy.
Semper Fi my brothers and sisters ( and to those who didn’t qualify on the rifle range )
Sgt Grit wants to hear from you! Leave your comments below or Submit your own Story !
I graduated from Boot Camp at Parris Island, S.C. in 1961. My first duty station was Parris Island as a Marksmanship Coach at Weapons Training Battalion. One thing we stressed was “be sure of your target” and “make your shot count.” You guys were lucky the sniper didn’t zero in on you, or was a bad shot !! You did well and are here to tell your story. Part of the training… Semper Fi
Sounds like hill 881. I wasn’t there but nearby, a place called leatherneck square. situation the same with a different view. Semper Fi