USGI sea stories

[Winger Ed.]

Over the years I've cultivated friendships with other vets, many of them older than myself.
Of special interest is their stories of military service from generations past.
I hate to see some of these pass into history and be lost, so I figured I pass some along----

Here's one from a Dogface that served in the Pacific during the mid-1940's when he worked for General MacArthur:
Back then, troops didn't fly like we do now. They were moved by ship, on big troop transports.

These boats were quite Spartan with their 'acomodations'.

The bathrooms were long rows of toilet seats over a 1/2 of a big drain pipe with sea water always flowing through it.
Like a 20 'holer' outhouse.

In the mornings, with a few hundred guys in there at one time,,,,
When one became available--- It was important to get a seat as far 'upstream' as possible.

There was always someone upstream who would roll out a piece of 'Navy Literature' about the size of a football,
light it, and drop it into the water flowing through the trough...…….

As it went downstream,,,, guys would be jumping up like a row of 'jack in the boxes'.

[bikerbeans]

I knew a man who was in the infantry in WWII. He arrived in France in late fall of 1944. His saw zero action until one cold mid-December morning Hitler's forceds popped out of dense Belguim forests. He almost immediately cutoff from his unit. After traveling on foot most of the day he finally found what he thought were a couple of American troops. He yelled to get their attention and one of the Germans rather rudely taught him about the knock down power of the Mauser. He finally made it back to Indiana in 1946 after 18 months in a hospital. He told me this story right before i went in the Navy in 73. I didn't talk to any German while in the service.

BB

[FLINTNFIRE]

Ha I knew the man who laughed about doing that , sailed on the san francisco , was a heck of a good man , ww2 , was a good friend been gone for awhile now .

[Winger Ed.]

I knew another trooper from the era that spoke of being in a unit with some guys from Kentucky.

They used up all the raisins on the ship to make booze pretty soon after leaving port.

When they got to a island in the Pacific, they'd round up all the coconuts they could find, put in a little
yeast and sugar they'd scrounged from the cooks, and make booze on shore when the fighting slacked off.

[phonejack]

My father was a flight engineer (nco ) in a C-47 squadron that flew the "hump" among other flights. He was stationed mostly in Kumning. Several months later a squadron of new P-51's arrived. His brother in law was one of the pilots . Enlisted and officers were allowed to go off base on alternating nights. So, on officers nights my father would put on one of his brother in laws officers uniforms and they would go off base together. On enlisted night the brother in law would put on one of my fathers uniforms and away they went. They never got caught.

[Winger Ed.]

One of the guys who had served in the Pacific re-lived a story when he told it:

This guy would never use a profane word, ever.
He told stories of the island hopping campaign.
Telling this was the maddest, and closest to cussing I ever saw him-

During and after the heavy fighting, they'd have to check out Japanese
spider holes and bunkers frequently to be sure they weren't being re-occupied until the engineers blew out and collapsed them.

Like in Viet Nam, they'd take turns going into them as they moved around the islands.

He'd get madder, and madder as he told the story-
First you throw in a hand grenade or two.
Then drop or go in with a flashlight in one hand and a Colt .45 or a Thompson in the other.

He told of taking his turn and doing it.
As the dust cleared and his eyes focused----
There was a Japanese soldier crouched and ready to spring,
with a rifle and fixed bayonet pointed at him about 6 inches from his heart.

Almost too mad to talk, he said--
"You know what some sorry,,,, good for nothin' did,,,,, he put that dead Jap there,,,,,,, just to scare the next guy"!!!


Nothing funny about guys being in a war zone so long they start doing practical jokes with dead bodies,
but to hear him tell the tale, ya can't help but laugh.

[nicholst55]

I met an old sailor once at Travis AFB, CA, while I was killing time waiting to fly to Korea. He was there for a hospital appointment, and obviously lonely. He told stories of joining the Navy when he was 16, shortly after the Great War. He was obviously glad to have someone to talk to, and I enjoyed his stories of crewing a gunboat in China before the war. I can't recall any specific stories now - this was 1978, IIRC, but I enjoyed talking to the old sailor.

[owejia]

My Uncle was in WWII with the "Rabs" 455th AAA AW[m] unit. Only remember once he talked about combat. Researching his unit found some great bits and pieces of information about where they were. Had a older friend from Texas that always rode instead of walking. He said some one asked him why and his reply was "hell I walked across Europe with Patton and I'm tired of walking". That was the extent of his talking about the war. A lot of individual unit information from WWII can be found in the Eisenhower Library in Kansas. Some of my Uncles Unit was at Bastogne. Another bit of information says they were on line for 300 days straight. One other story from my Uncle, one morning while in formation , at Ft. Stewart, Ga. they asked if there were any truck drivers , well of course several hands went up in the air, Uncle said the truck they had to drive was a wheelbarrow. Told me never volunteer for anything. Took his advice except for a couple of times.

[Winger Ed.]

Told me never volunteer for anything. Took his advice except for a couple of times.

My old buddy from then said the same thing about when he was in the Army.

Except one time they called for volunteers, and he did. Him and 3-4 other guys.
They sent them to the Mess Hall for 'Kitchen Police' duty (KP).

The rest of his unit got on Higgens boats, and went to a ship.
Not a single one of them ever came back.

[nelsonted1]

Dad was in the army on his way to Korea. The whole base seemed to be in formation waiting for visiting brass. General Mark Clark-soon to lead the Korean War effort- began working his way down the formation stopping directly in front of the guy next to Dad. He asked the poor stupid idiot "Why are you going to Korea, soldier?" The poor stupid idiot said "The hell if I know." Mark Clark just stood there not saying a word. They watched his face get purple he got so mad. Finally, he turned around, got in a car and left. Dad said the poor stupid idiot said what every one of them thought but not one would say out loud. I asked Dad what they did to him. Sent him to Korea. Wasn't that enough?

[nelsonted1]

A friend I see about once a month for a few minutes is almost 80. He said he did one stupid thing in his life. He was finished with basic and they asked for volunteers. He volunteered for what he found out later was nerve gas research. He wound up crippled for life. He has been on a list for a kidney for years but he is now too old. He said don't volunteer.

As an aside. He said he has real good health insurance.

[nelsonted1]

Dad said he was drunk with his buddies one night in Korea. They went to a theater. One of the guys barfed on an mp seated in front of him. He said they ran as far and as fast as they could not saying a word. Somehow, they got away. The problem was he tallied frieght numbers in an railroad car next to the MPs and the medics. They ate with them. He said don't barf on an mp and expect to stay free. If you stay free you will still go insane waiting for repurcussions.

[Winger Ed.]

said "The hell if I know." Mark Clark just stood there not saying a word.

That's funny.

A Army vet, H-47 Crew Chief from the late 1960's, buddy here told of while waiting for a bus on base in Germany,
when a staff car with 2 stars on it pulled up and stopped.

A General got out and ripped into one of the troopers about how dirty and unkept he looked in his uniform.

The kid stood there, and when the General finally ran out of steam, he said, "Sir, your fly is open".
The General didn't say another word, after he turned so red he glowed,,, just got back in his car and left.

[Winger Ed.]

During a Inspector Generals inspection at Quantico, it was held in one of the hangers due to it being rainy that day.
Well, there was a large population of pigeons living up in the roof frame too.

As the General went down the ranks, on the one in front of me, just as the General was facing and talking to him,
a big giant glob of pigeon poop fell and landed on his shoulder and ribbon block.

Nobody laughed. Finally the General said, "Well Gunny, you sure have been **** on today".
Then he faced off, and went down the ranks like nothing happened.

[AggieEE]

My uncle was Army Air Corp in England during WWII. He was based in or around London. He said that on Sunday mornings he would go for a walk in one of the local parks that was close to the barracks. One Sunday morning he decided not to go to the park. About the time the would have been in the park he said he heard a V1 cut off and he had just enough time to pull the blanket over his head when it landed in the park. Other than getting covered in broken glass he was physically fine.

[Winger Ed.]

heard a V1 cut off and he had just enough time to pull the blanket over his head when it landed in the park. Other than getting covered in broken glass he was physically fine.

When I was at Quantico, the Marine Corps Air Museum was just starting to come together.
It was in the hangers of the old air station that are on the grounds
of what is now OCS, and near the big brig where they kept John Hinckley after he shot Pres. Reagan.

I had a couple buddys that worked there, and I'd often visit during my Lunch hour.
I had free run of all their spaces and back warehouses.

I don't think they ever displayed it, but they had a dud V1 'back in the back'.
It didn't explode when it landed, and had a big dent on the nose.

Just from looking at it, being that close to one when it went off--your uncle was lucky.
Those things had a BIG warhead on them.

[Walks]

My DAD, never really talked about his experiences in WWII, just an off hand comment once in awhile.
Once when I was about 7yrs old, I got up for a drink of water late on Thanksgiving night. Everyone was asleep. Or so I thought. My DAD and His Brother were sitting at the Dining Room, smoking their Pipes and drinking Scotch. I crept out and under the Tablecloth, they didn't see me.
They were telling War Stories, things I never heard about. They were both in the Navy, My DAD a TorpedoMan on a Destroyer, My Uncle a Corpsman assigned to the Marines.

It was a fascinating hour, they say Vets only talk to each other.

That's true, when I got home from Overseas, I found the friends I'd left behind couldn't begin to understand the **** I'd been through. I had a different understanding of what I'd heard under that table 13yrs before.

I don't talk about my experiences, overseas. But I do have a funny story or two about being a Corpsman with Marines.

[Winger Ed.]

But I do have a funny story or two about being a Corpsman with Marines.

While in a CH-46 helo Squadron on Okinawa, I had developed a good relationship with our Fleet Corpsman.
He was on Flight Pay, and needed 10 hours a month flight time to keep the extra pay coming.
I'd call him when a good 'sight seeing' flight for a hour or two came up on our daily flight schedule.

He'd ask about anyone's aches & pains, who needed shots, etc. and bring them over
so we didn't have to go to Sick Bay and stand in line all day with the Grunts.

There was a couple guys who'd 'done him wrong'.
He'd fix them up too, but no matter what was wrong with them, the medication for it always included suppositorys.

[EDG]

My dad got an all expense paid vacation and tour of the southern and central Pacific in WWII courtesy of the USMC. His unit was C/1/6 2nd Marine division.
He was in combat at Guadalcanal, Tarawa and Saipan.
He would talk a tiny bit about Guadalcanal and the mud and the jungle rot and the fact that he ate so little his stomach shrank. He talked about his amtrac being sunk at Saipan and later being wounded and sent home after rehab. But he never mentioned Tarawa which was a battle only about 4 days long.
I asked what did you do after the battle since it was so short. The answer was gather the dead Marines for burial.
My final question was related to his weapon since he was trained to be an antitank gunner on a 37mm run.
Because he landed late and there were not many tanks on Tarawa what weapon did he use.
He said "A flame thrower". He was clearly agitated by my questions and I never asked again.

[WRideout]

My cousin Herb Rideout was in the 41st Division in the Pacific during WWII. He broke the rule about not talking about his experiences. He was a draftee, but was assigned to a National Guard Division from the Pacific Northwest. He said that the food was the worst in the islands. He spoke of frequently eating "wormy mutton." He was a gunner in an artillery battery. He said that once, the cannon he served was making a funny noise, but the Lt. told them to continue the fire mission. After things had slowed down, they checked the bore, and half the rifling was missing. Another time, a gust of wind blew a large tree branch in front of their gun position. It happened so quickly, a shell was fired that hit the branch and exploded, killing a crew member. After the war he worked for the Bethlehem Steel plant in South San Francisco until he retired.

Wayne

[WRideout]

My stepfather, Ralph Gattis, also served in the Pacific during WWII; Army Air Force. He once told me that in his AO, there was a fenced compound that held Japanese POWs. He said with a straight face that nearby Australians would climb a tree about three hundred yards away and shoot at the prisoners. When the war was over, anyone who could fly would land on his island and abandon their aircraft to hitch a ride back to stateside. Ralph's Lt. said he had been ordered to leave the island, and not leave any aircraft behind. Ralph told him not to worry; next day all the excess airframes had been pushed over a cliff into the ocean.

Wayne

[popper]

all the excess airframes had been pushed over a cliff into the ocean Called deep six-ing. Always befriend the cook.

[Wayne Smith]

When I was at Quantico, the Marine Corps Air Museum was just starting to come together.
It was in the hangers of the old air station that are on the grounds
of what is now OCS, and near the big brig where they kept John Hinckley after he shot Pres. Reagan.

I had a couple buddys that worked there, and I'd often visit during my Lunch hour.
I had free run of all their spaces and back warehouses.

I don't think they ever displayed it, but they had a dud V1 'back in the back'.
It didn't explode when it landed, and had a big dent on the nose.

Just from looking at it, being that close to one when it went off--your uncle was lucky.
Those things had a BIG warhead on them.

To be specific, 1 ton. Same as the V2, a one ton warhead.

[Land Owner]

There were so many that fought, died, and lived that were not recognized, without whom we would probably speak German or Japanese. It was the cumulative impact of the "little things" that made the difference.

My father, though not recognized, was and is my hero. As a Lieutenant JG, he commanded his own Mine Sweeper and provided two-way escort for a fleet of 23 Landing Craft between islands in the Pacific, keeping the flow of troops fresh and supplied.

Dad identified one of our remaining Destroyers in the Pacific as it arrived in previously uncharted water at some Philippine island port, which name I have long forgotten. Dad's Mine Sweeper had the days before charted underwater peaks there, which the Australians had not yet blown up to provide adequate clearance for shipping. No word had been passed to the fleet of these underwater obstructions.

When a military Ship of the Line arrives in any port, the small military vessels commence signaling with light - all of them - toward the larger ship. "To which berth are you assigned?" "Is Joe Schmoe aboard?" "Have you seen any action?" And other messages from literally dozens of boats that should be left for face-to-face later at the Enlisted Men's Club (if there had been one). The Signalmen on the large ship see and ignore most of the attention as they prepare for mooring.

In order to warn the larger ship of the navigational hazard, Dad ordered his Mine Sweeper crew to signal the Destroyer - the standard hail (ship's call sign) in an attempt to get their attention. After eight to ten attempts without recognition Dad instructed the Signalman to send - in the blind - "You are standing into 8-feet of water." and to keep sending until acknowledged.

Momentarily, there was the sudden emission of black smoke from its stacks, a shuttering of the Destroyer from end-to-end in its attempt to halt its forward movement while its engines were in Full Reverse, and a signal light from the larger ship to "Direct to clear water." Can you imagine what that Bridge Crew on that Destroyer were going through when they received and UNDERSTOOD that message? Following a successful maneuver and anchorage, the Destroyer's Captain sent his launch over to invite and dine my Father on the larger ship.

If the hull had been breeched or the Destroyer stuck aground, that Captain's career would have been severely blackened (if not over), even in the unknown condition described. We had so few remaining big ships after Pearl...saving every one was paramount.

[OldBearHair]

My story of WW11 is the death of my Brother< Paul B. Barrick on the USS Mississippi Dec 4 1943 when an order to cease fire came after 24 hours of shelling an island in the Philipines. As the crew received the "cease fire' the projectile had been loaded and the bags of powder loaded the breech was shut but the latch was not closed............ all the crew stood at attention waiting for further orders when the powder went off, killing all 47 young men. Bro. Paul had relayed the cease fire and was in his position and at the explosion ran into the fire and began dragging the guys out two at a time. In the process burned his lungs so badly he passed during the night bringing the toll to 48. During the war the ship lost a total of 53 men....
Someone mentioned about officers in trouble and stuff. In 1963 working at Harlingen AFB with Dynalectron doing IRAN (inspect and repair as necesary)inspections of the Convair 240, my partner and I were down at the augmentor cleaning tanks. The same water system for washing the planes was right there as well. When they turned on the pressure, the 2 inch hose we used to maintain the correct level in the tank was hanging inside the tank as a visiting Colonel came along to find out why there were civilians in grey kakai uniforms there and he was beginning to rake us over the coals. The pressure came up and the hos came out of the tank, the stream of water struck the man right in the groin and made a slow upward move all the way past his head. Poor guy was standing there with his shirt pockets full of water and wondering how I had just been able to cause all that. He just got very red faced, turned and walked off. The base colonel whom was in charge of us came to our rescue.

[DukeConnors]

My father was a ww2 seabee. He hated it and didn't want to be there.

Anytime I was a kid and bitched about something his response was " you don't know nothing, you should have been on Saipan when the japs counter attacked".

Thank god I never had a day like that.

He was a better man than me and I miss him every day.

[William Yanda]

"never volunteer for anything"
One of our HS Class Advisor's was a WW II vet of the Pacific Theatre. He gave us a unique perspective on that philosophy. He recounted that he had "admitted" being able to type and was given an office assignment. As I remember him telling it, none or a very small minority of his original outfit survived. In 1971, as a draftee, I volunteered for Jump School in Basic Training. I was medically disqualified after I got to Ft. Benning and that began my second and third MOS's, both great alernatives to 11 B.

[starbits]

My Dad, newly married, had orders to Hawaii, which suddenly got changed to Japan. Another officer was heard bragging that he had gotten the assignments officer drunk and gotten his orders changed from Japan to Hawaii. My Dad wrote his name and service number on a piece of paper and carried it in his wallet swearing he would get even some day. While Dad was in Japan the Korean war broke out. The army grabbed everybody the could in Hawaii stuck them in a unit and threw them into the front lines to stop the North Koreans. Turned out the guy wound up a quadriplegic, Dad tore up his piece of paper. Dad was in the Inchon landing, but never talked much about the Korean war or his tour in Vietnam.

[starbits]

A guy I knew had been trained as a teletype operator. When he showed up for the Korean war they said "Signal Corps, here is your radio." Spent the next 12 months humping a radio around Korea (he said he was part of a sapper team blowing up enemy ammo dumps). Said he hated the army and when it came time for him to rotate back to the states he still had 3 months before he would be out, but if he extended for a month he would be out of the army as soon as his feet his US soil. Everything had gone well so far, so what was another month if he could get out 2 months early. He was captured and spent 18 months as a POW. Never volunteer.

[Winger Ed.]

being able to type and was given an office assignment.

A life long friend whose cousin got drafted in the late 60's found himself issued a rifle in Viet Nam.

Soon after he arrived, he stuck his head in the office and asked to use a typewriter.
The Lt. in charge of the office perked up at that and asked why.
He told him his handwriting was so bad, his parents couldn't read it, so he typed his letters to them.

After typing his letter, he'd unknowingly demonstrated his skills to the young officer who then asked him what unit he was with.
He told him some Grunt lingo---- Platoon such & such, Company so and so.

The Lt. told him, "Not any more".

He spent his tour there typing away..

[Thumbcocker]

To be specific, 1 ton. Same as the V2, a one ton warhead.

V1 850 kilograms V2910 kilograms. FWIW the US contracted for American producers to copy the V1 for use against Japan. If you look on youtube there is a combat bulletin showing the launch of American made V1's.

[MT Gianni]

My father was a ww2 seabee. He hated it and didn't want to be there.

Anytime I was a kid and bitched about something his response was " you don't know nothing, you should have been on Saipan when the japs counter attacked".

Thank god I never had a day like that.

He was a better man than me and I miss him every day.

Dad was a Marine on Am. Samoa when Pearl was bombed. He was asked to transfer to the See Bees as he could build anything. He did so but figured it cost him as it froze his rank. He served from 1940 to 45 without ever pointing a gun at anyone. He had a few stories he loved to tell and a lot more he would never mention. No one there had it easy.

[Kent Fowler]

Funny story from my uncle who was stationed with the Army Air Corp in North Africa in the early part of the war. He said some general called for a big inspection which the troops thought was pretty dumb as the constant sand storms kept everything dirty. My uncle said the sergeants, which he was one, got the pick of the bunk locations and they all bunked around the coal stove. Uncle said he spiffed up the stove for the inspection with shoe polish and when he climbed into his upper bunk he got hit by a bad bout of dysentery, which was really prevalent, and crapped all over his newly shined stove. Said he spent the rest of the night re-cleaning the stove when he wasn't out visiting the slit trench.

[Winger Ed.]

crapped all over his newly shined stove.

I wouldn't have told anybody about that...……..

[Kent Fowler]

I wouldn't have told anybody about that...……..

I am probably the only one he ever told that story to, other than my dad. He said very little about his service, especially since he was a senior master sergeant, flying on B-52's later on. Don't know what specifically he what had to do with the nuclear weapons on board, but when he retired out of the Air Force, he went right to work for Pantex. My dad knew, but he would never tell me. Those WWII men were never talkers. It wasn't until very late in life in his life that my sister got another uncle of ours to talk about his days on Guadalcanal. Only way we knew he was on Guadalcanal when we were kids was we had a picture of him on a bulldozer with a Thompson laid across his lap. That was on Henderson Field.

[MaryB]

One of my uncles drove a tank in Korea(wrecked his spine too doing it). He was in the same battle that killed my other uncle and he saw him go down. Nothing he could do because they were fighting to back away from whatever hill they were on. He refuses to talk about much other than what it was like to drive a tank outside of combat.

[Winger Ed.]

Going to night school in the early 80's, one of my professors was a former Air Force Intelligence Officer.
Among his duties in the 50's into the early 1960's was de-briefing air crews when they returned from a mission.

,,,,,,,,,,,,
A little set up here:
The 2 Atomic bombs dropped on Japan were 15 and 20 kilotons.
Hydrogen bombs are built in layers, and get more and more powerful with each layer, theoretically up to 7 of them.
H-bombs can be in the 50,000 kiloton range, or more, up to 3,000 times more powerful than a Atomic bomb.
The Russians did a air burst with one that the shock wave blew out windows 560 miles away.
When they say a H-bomb can flatten 2 cities the size of New York city 40 miles apart from each other- its true.
,,,,,,,,,,,


My professor recounted his debriefing of the crew that dropped the first air burst H-bomb the US tested.
Usually when a bomber crew came in, they were pretty rowdy and it'd take a bit to settle them down and get their report.

This time, the crew came in and sat down looking like they were in shock.
He asked them, "Well, what did you see"?

...….Total silence.

Upon more quizzing, they went down the line "I was on the Flight Controls, and didn't see anything", "I didn't have a window",
"So-and-so had a better view", Nobody would describe what they'd seen.

Finally, one of the crew said, "I saw a lake of fire,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, with a radius of 40 miles".

[Catshooter]

My father served in the Merchant Marines the whole war. He wrote a book about it (never published). I've been thinking about re-writing it and posting/publishing.

Anyway, his first ship, the Edward S. Everett ran into what were probably the last two surviving German commerce raiders in the Atlantic. After about a five minute firefight all three ships where sinking. Out of 72 men on his ship, seven survived.

They spent the next seven + weeks in lifeboats making their way to Brazil, some 2,400 miles.

Dad had his 18th birthday in those lifeboats. He was a great dad.


Cat

[Nazgul]

When I was in High School I worked at a truck garage. There was a grumpy old man that only I got along with for some reason. Art was in an artillery unit in WW2. He was a couple years older than the others so was the unit's "Old Man". He said he was somewhat undecided about the war, it was what you did at the time. Until his unit liberated Auschwitz. After that he hated the Germans, they killed as many as they could anyway they could. He still had some of it when I knew him.

Don

[Wild Bill 7]

My step father was in the Pacific during WWII. He never talked much about it but I do know he was captured by the Japs and had the stripes on his back to prove it. He never ate rice after the war and only thing he would say about it was (I ate enough if it during the war). If you tried to get him to talk about that time he would either walk away or say that's in the past.

[richhodg66]

I just got done reading a book called Descent into Darkness by a retired Navy officer who was a young salvage diver in the states and was suddenly on the first thing smoking to Pearl Harbor on December 8th, 1941. The book has a lot of this kind of stuff in it like this. Besides Pearl Harbor, he spent time out in the fleet, got a ship shot out from under him and spent a few months on Guadalcanal before returning to finish things up at Pearl. Interesting stuff, and I don't think men that brave exist anymore, at least not in those numbers. The Greatest generation.

[Tom W.]

Dad didn't talk about WW II or Korea, but around Christmas time ha and I would get pretty intoxicated and he'd tell me about things that happened in Vietnam. Once he was driving a big caterpillar off of a truck to help clear a road, got about six feet from the trailer and ran over a mine. It lifted the Dozier up about a foot in the air and that was it. Completely ruined, they just left it there.


The other thing that he talked about a lot ( when intoxicated, never when sober ) was when he was up at Dong Ha in the compound there was incoming . It came as a surprise to everyone, and as he was running to the bunker a round hit next to him. One of the guys in the bunker said
"There goes the Gunny" as he was blown about 50 yards through the air. The guys were going to see if they could help him, but he got up and ran like a rabbit to his bunker. Bruised, scuffed and shaken, and almost deaf, he made it okay.

He missed a promotion due to the fact that he refused to take a squad of people on patrol due to the fact that they were all stoned.. The new lieutenant was rather perturbed about it but Dad said if those people went out no one would come back. So the lieutenant wrote him up and took the squad himself.

I saw the color pictures.
Heads in one basket, arms and legs in another, and the torsos in a third. All strung up on some trees along the trail.

Dad only talked about it when he was intoxicated.

[Larry Gibson]

When I was in basic, infantry and airborne training in late '64 and early '65 we still had a lot of Korean War vets as DIs and range instructors. They would offer up bits and pieces of their experiences as lessons learned to reinforce training. In infantry training at Fort Ord we had a few Viet Nam Vets also. As a young scout in the recon section on Okinawa we also had quite a few WWII, Korean vets in the 173rd Bde (ABN). A short time later in Viet Nam we would talk about what was going on, they would compare their previous experience with what we were seeing in Viet Nam. I learned a lot very quickly. Even after returning stateside to the 101st I found there were a lot of WWII, Korean and Viet Nam vets....we did talk among ourselves......sometimes. So after a a multitude of years in different wars, different locations and may different circumstances I have my own "war stories"......

So, there I was with my company on the north fork of the Humongous River dug in when we were attacked......went to hand to hand and we were knee deep in grenade pins and up to our *** in brass......got really bad.....and one of those two darned near got away from us...........

[owejia]

Had a WWII veteran as a neighbor for many years. We were talking one day and he told me about capturing some Japanese and their supplies on one of the Islands in the Pacific. They found a large amount of greenbacks and thought they were rich until it turned out to be counterfeit.

[Catshooter]

So, there I was with my company on the north fork of the Humongous River dug in when we were attacked......went to hand to hand and we were knee deep in grenade pins and up to our *** in brass......got really bad.....and one of those two darned near got away from us...........

. . . and the mortars were pointed nearly straight up . . . Helluva way to make a living!

:)

Cat

[samari46]

On my ship they spent quite sometime making ash trays out of spent 5"54 brass casings. And most if not all were given to the officers. And they saved the brass remains for Hong Kong Mary. The deal was she would get all the brass and she would furnish all the labor to paint the ship. Took a week to do the painting and out to sea we went. Paint does not stick well to salt water covered surfaces,especially to the hull. We came back about a month later and the ship looked like a tramp steamer. Oh and the brass shells made into ash trays for the officers?. I got mine the next time we had gunnery practice while on our Westpac cruise. Spent many hours on watches sanding it down. Still have it over 50 years. Frank

[Catshooter]

Frank,

That's cool. Got a picture?


Cat

[popper]

Ahh, red lead and chipping hammers. Rocking the deck.

[Winger Ed.]

Ahh, red lead and chipping hammers. Rocking the deck.

Growing up, we had a neighbor who'd retired from the Air Force.
He was old enough to have gone overseas on troop ships before they started flying everybody.

He told of sitting out on deck, watching the ocean on one side for a few hours,
then going to the other side of the ship, and watch the ocean on that side for awhile.

He noticed guys would come along, chip off some paint, leave,
then a couple more would come and prime, then paint the spot.

He said it never ended, sailors went around chipping and re-painting the USS Big Gray during all daylight hours.

[Der Gebirgsjager]

It's been too many years now for me to recall the name of the island, but I had an ex-Air Force friend who was stationed on an island that was fought over and captured from the Japanese by the British during WW II, and where the USAF maintains an installation. When the war ended the British troops were ordered to line up in several files and walk out into the surf to meet the boats that would take them off the island. As they did so, they were ordered to stack their No.4 Lee Enfield rifles in the water where they were abandoned. He said that you can still see several piles of them today. I've done a lot of reading about the war, and actually read an account of this very incident, but could never find the reference again.

[Winger Ed.]

My Dad had a friend who'd served in the Navy for almost all of WWII.
He was on a USS Big Gray his whole time, and kept his Mae West life jacket with him at all times.
It was never more than arm's reach away.

When the war was over, he still had it.
It had become dirty, greasy, and tattered, but he had it with him constantly.

When they pulled into San Francisco and walked off the boat- he threw it in the harbor--- and it sank.

[poppy42]

My brother Joey spent his time in the army stationed near Bamberg Germany in the late 60s. He was in the 4 armor division, maintenance battalion. Let’s just say that Joey was not suited for a life in the military. He didn’t exactly follow rules or take orders very well! He wants told me that he got so many article 15 is it the rest of the guys in his unit started referring to article 15‘s as Joey‘s . Joey told me that for a brief period of time they actually had a really cool CO. The Co actually let him paint a Jeep gloss army green as opposed to the normal drab olive green. The CO was soon transferred and he brought in a new gung ho colonel. The first thing the new colonel did was to make sure all vehicles were painted the appropriate drab green. A short time after that there were wargames/maneuvers or whatever they called it scheduled . As these maneuvers was scheduled for the height of summer Of 1969, and my brother knew it was going to be hot and the rest of his unit would get Mighty thirsty. My brother Joey got the bright idea to empty out the Jerry cans that were strapped to his units jeeps and refill them with ice and beer! Well you’ll never guess who’s jeep overheated . That’s right that same company CO who made Joey paint the jeeps back to drab olive green and you guessed it brother Joey was in for another article 15 . The winter of that same year my brother was in a tent repairing a half track in the freezing cold when the wrench slipped and my brother cracked, his knuckles on the half track . And as my brother was relieving some stress by spurting out quite a few expletives about the army and needs a leader ship who do you think decided to walk into that tent? When the kernel asked my brother if there was a problem he responded by throwing an inch and a half wrench, Barely missing the colonel ‘s head. Joey follow this up bye not so politely informing the general what he could do with the half track and the whole van on me for that matter. Joey was soon arrested and was facing a full court-martial when in January 1970 our father passed away of a sudden heart attack. The Red Cross manage to get Joey emergency leave and had him immediately shipped stateside for our dad’s funeral . I was only 13 at the time but I still vividly remember picking Joey up from the airport and going directly to the funeral home for dad’s funeral . I guess you could say dad was always looking out for his boys even in death . That was the last anyone ever heard of a court-martial and as a matter of fact after we buried my father my brother Joey never spend another second in a uniform! I’m sure Joey and eyes older brother Peter had a lot to do with getting Joey out of the army but as I was only 13 at the time the specifics were never revealed to me . However I did hear some of the details of Joey’s receiving some of his article 15‘s as I recall there were several instances of him being caught with a civilian female in his barracks. :bigsmyl2: as I said earlier Joey definitely did not like to follow rules . Lol. My brother Joey, to say the least, was a unique and entertaining individual . As I’m writing this I can’t help but chuckle while remembering quite a few stupid/hold my beer things that he did throughout his life. Sadly I lost all my brothers and a two month period of time in the spring and summer of 2015. I miss them all but Joey will always have a special place in my heart as he was the closest in age to me being eight years older .
Ps: I apologize if any of the terms that I used in my post that were not proper military terminology. Military language is somewhat unfamiliar to me. This is because due to circumstances beyond my control I did not have an opportunity to serve . I have the upmost respect for any and all that serve now or have served in the past. I deeply regret not being allowed the opportunity to serve my country. I would never want to offend anyone I not using the correct military terminology. If in my post when I referred to things such as battalion, unit, or article 15 these were not exactly the correct terms I apologize I was merely relating a story as I recalled it !

[Mytmousemalibu]

A good buddy of mine served in the Navy in the 80's on a sub. He told me some of the tricks they liked to do to the newbies. I guess throughout the boat they had ports that bled in high concentrations of oxygen for breathing. They would take in a mouthful of O² and blow into a lit cigarette and it would throw about a foot long flame!

The other funny one is when they had a newbie at the helm operating the directional controls, they would quietly assemble a large party of men and they would rush fore or aft to upset the balance of the ship. The poor seaman would compensate for the pitch change and the men would surge to the other end and cause an overcompensation! Basically making the ship porpoise around and make a fool of the guy!

[Winger Ed.]

I had a Great Uncle that got drafted towards the end of WWII, and was sent to Ft. Bliss near El Paso, Texas.

It was a tent city then, and their Mess Hall was also a tent.
The place had a few real pack rats.
They usually carry something, and when they find something they like better, they drop it and carry the new item.
That's how your diamond necklace gets swapped out and replaced with a stick, a piece of string. or a pretty rock.

Over a few weeks, all the silver ware slowly disappeared.
Unit Commanders and the MPs searched the troops and barracks several times-- no silver ware...….

Being in the desert, nobody thought much of all the sticks and twigs in the Mess tent.
If you weren't near the front of the line, you had to wait for a fork, or eat with your hands.

Finally someone found all the silver ware---- in a giant pack rat nest a few yards behind the Mess Tent.

[popper]

Life jacket- what is that? Never knew where they were. Had GQ on the bridge for a while, maybe I wore one then? Had a teak deck that was 'polished' weekly with a stick and sandstone brick (rock). Every once in a while I'd get to canvas wrap and paint the ladder chains. Every day, steel wool the blast door seals and coat with silicon grease. Til I got moved to telemetry, then just drank coffee in the shack.

[samari46]

Cat, sorry but no pics as I'm electronically challenged. The Navy had a saying if it moves salute it and if it does not move paint it. And all the guages in the engineroom had brass rings that held the glass faces just like a watch. Those go polished at least once a day. The steel deck plates were wire brushed daily. The cool aid we drank in the mess decks came in quart bottles and was highly concentrated and highly acidic. We'd pour it on the deck plates and it would literally eat the grease off the plates. Wipe it off with rags and wire brush it. Lots of fun. Frank

[Winger Ed.]

[QUOTE=samari46;4697185] The steel deck plates were wire brushed daily. The cool aid we drank in the mess decks


We called that 'bug juice'.

We didn't have steel decks anywhere I was at, be we had tile or concrete floors in the barracks that were waxed and polished to a high luster.

We got enough practice with those big commercial buffer machines that we could ride, and race them in the passageways.

[hwilliam01]

I know this is really for personal stories, and unfortunately I have none to share and I saw this one on FB and thought it was at least in the spirit of other posts. Spoken by a veteran of Iwo Jima....

https://www.facebook.com/marines/videos/2631586783535101/

[Winger Ed.]

I know this is really for personal stories, and unfortunately I have none to share and I saw this one on FB and thought it was at least in the spirit of other posts. Spoken by a veteran of Iwo Jima....

https://www.facebook.com/marines/videos/2631586783535101/

Excellent. Thanks.

I never drank coffee myself.

I've heard 2-3 instances from Viet Nam vets who would have coffee grounds in a forward base camp, but no pot or filters.
They all said they boiled it in a helmet and filtered it through a sock, or use the sock like a tea bag when they boiled it.

Bear in mind:
If you're not close enough to a field kitchen to have access to a coffee pot---
You aren't very close to a washing machine either.

[lefty o]

bug juice is a great brass polish, especially for fire plugs. just remember not all sea stories are factual!

[fatnhappy]

Back when a certain young man was first learning to drive a floor buffer in the battalion mess at Benning, a Sgt Major and CWO4 came over to offer all kinds of close order suggestions.
While The CWO4 was barking in my left ear I once again triggered the buffer, the handle escaped my grasp.

It drilled him perfectly deadcenter in the chiefest part of the CWO. All you heard was the air come out of his lungs and a dull thud on the floor. The Sgt Major helped him up, neither spoke another word and simply left.

[Winger Ed.]

My Dad had a long time friend who was a early 60's issue USMC Lt., and a Texas Aggie.
He was also the posterchild for why they have Aggie jokes.

We were talking about minor burns one time and he said he'd always put Preparation H on them.
He was offended when I laughed at the idea. "Oh yeah, out on the lake,,, what would you do when you burn your hand"?
I told him I'd put it in the ice chest until it turned blue.

Then he told of getting burned on a hot 'C' ration can out in the woods during OCS at Quantico about 40 years before.
The Navy Corpsman put Preparation H on it, and he'd been doing that ever since when he got a minor burn.

I told him, "Dude, they just did that because you're an Officer. They gave us 'ointment, topical, one each', in the green tube".

I went on, "I can see them now, when you came up to their Jeep,
they'd think, OK, here ya go,,,, this is just the thing for *** holes. It'll fix you right up".
And those Corpsmen are probably still laughing about that".

[lightman]

My Dad was drafted and served in Korea. I could never get him to tell stories. He taught me to hunt and he loved and used an M-1 Carbine because he carried an M-2 in the service. One story that he told me was about being on guard duty one night. Apparently he was alone and a ways away from his unit. The temperature was like -50º. He said he heard the snow crunching and when the crunching stopped he heard some whispers and jibber jabber. He said that he slipped the safety off on his M-2 and apparently the click was very loud in the cold night air. He said there was a lot of crunchy foot steps and jibber jabber.

I had an Uncle that went through the entire WW2 on a submarine. He was killed in a car wreck 2 reeks after the war was over and he returned home. I never knew him.

I knew an old farmer here that was a WW2 pilot that flew P-47's. He once told me that he had over 2000 flight hours over the water.

[sureYnot]

My Dad had a long time friend who was a early 60's issue USMC Lt., and a Texas Aggie.
He was also the posterchild for why they have Aggie jokes.

We were talking about minor burns one time and he said he'd always put Preparation H on them.
He was offended when I laughed at the idea. "Oh yeah, out on the lake,,, what would you do when you burn your hand"?
I told him I'd put it in the ice chest until it turned blue.

Then he told of getting burned on a hot 'C' ration can out in the woods during OCS at Quantico about 40 years before.
The Navy Corpsman put Preparation H on it, and he'd been doing that ever since when he got a minor burn.

I told him, "Dude, they just did that because you're an Officer. They gave us 'ointment, topical, one each', in the green tube".

I went on, "I can see them now, when you came up to their Jeep,
they'd think, OK, here ya go,,,, this is just the thing for *** holes. It'll fix you right up".
And those Corpsmen are probably still laughing about that".Made my day. Wife had some chuckles, too. Hehehe

Sent from my XT1710-02 using Tapatalk

[nagantguy]

my grandfather spoke Italian and German so he was trained to flight in the Apls , with the idea that he could interrogate prisoners in Italy, Sicily and or France, helped he was an outdoorsman who could ski or snowshoe with the best. At the last minute donto army “intelligence”he was sent to the South Pacific with no proper gear or inoculations; he fought on several of the Island campaigns, got very sick several times, was trapped behind enemy lines twice, and was wounded in bayonet/hand to hand fighting twice, carried a BAR for the most part. One night on one of the islands in he Filipino chain after the fighting a few of the guys got drunk and started a big first fight; just boys blowing off stem, the MPs arrested several including dead old granddaddy; as the were marching into the brig, his company commander grabbed him by the arm and said “good job, how many did you get?” My grandpa said 7 sir and walked out of the brig with his Captain, they went through thick and thin and remained friends after the war.

[nagantguy]

One of my favorite stories is one night on the USS Austin around Halloween a few of us Marines had made a batch of pruno juice; real rough cheap bootleg liquor made with yeast and sugar and orange juice; well that night I won a cousin contest; a poker game and a hotdog eating contest, have the pictures; have been told about the card game and have no memory of any of it. Guess I ate 50 dogs and the next contestant ate 43. We were on our way to a nasty place and were briefed on what to expect and were blowing off a little preemptive steam as it were.

[brewer12345]

I knew a guy who was a cold war era nuke on a submarine. My favorite story from him was that when they had been cruising for months and morale was low, the captain decided to surface and let the sailors have some R&R because they were in the tropical Pacific. This was in the days when the nuke subs would deliberately be out of radio communication for weeks or months at a time. They surfaced and the captain let the guys sunbathe on the deck, swim off the bow (with a sailor watching for sharks with a rifle), and had the mess cooks set up barbecues on the deck. Everyone is having a great time, when a US military plane happens to pass by. The plane closes in, can't make radio contact with the sub, circles several times, and then tears off at speed. Before they know it, multiple surface ships are bearing down on them as fast as they can because the pilot reported a disabled nuclear sub on the surface, apparently on fire (BBQ smoke), with wounded men laid out on the deck (sunbathers) and multiple bodies (swimmers) in the water behind the sub.

[Winger Ed.]

Back in the 80's & 90's at the auto paint store, I had buddy/customer that got drafted out of High School,
and found himself in Viet Nam carrying a rifle very shortly there after.

He didn't ever say much about his combat tour in the Army, but he did make an observation one time:

He said that the whole time he was in High School, nobody ever told him that he might
be in a place some day, that you'd be so scared- you'd pull dead bodies over yourself to hide.

I didn't ask for details, I just let it go...

[Winger Ed.]

Back in the 80's I talked to a guy who'd gotten out, and had done a tour as a Drill Instructor at Parris Island.

Back then, if you did anything detrimental to one of those recruits that was outside the prescribed training- you were in a heap of trouble!
After all the investigations-- Even if you got to keep your stripes, your career was still pretty much over.
This was enforced by each new Private being interviewed by people from Dept. of Defense
a hour or two before they got on the buss to leave Parris Island.
------But, you could still have a little fun once in awhile....

This fella told of one time when the busses were coming with brand new recruits.
When they arrived, the kids got out and stood on the yellow footprints- just like you see in the movies.

As they stood out in front of Receiving Barracks, on the prints- a armed Sentry was standing there at the base of the steps.
Pretty soon, from inside, there was some yelling, bodies banging around, more yelling, and a Private came flying out the door.

A Drill Instructor was hot on his tail...….. He grabbed up the kid, and told him to run around the building.
When he came back around, more yelling, and he told him he was too comfortable,
and ordered him to put on a long sleeve shirt, gloves, and a football helmet, then to run around the building again.

As the guy disappeared around the corner, the DI snatched the Sentry's rifle and ripped off a full magazine (Of blanks).

Gave the Sentry back his rifle, and yelled back inside the building for someone to come pick up this Private and throw it in the dumpster.
Just barely within sight of the new arrivals,,,,,,,,, two other DIs threw a identically dressed dummy in the dumpster.

Several minutes later, a truck came, emptied it, compacted it's load, and took off in a cloud of smoke.


For about 80 kids from Everywhere, USA--- that was their first impression of Marine Corps Boot Camp.
But;
Not another word of that incident was ever spoken...….. until after graduation and the new Platoon was about to board the busses.

One of his new Marines told him his good byes, and said,

"Sir, I just wanted you to know, when those FBI or Dept of Defense people interviewed us,
nobody said anything about that Private you killed back at Receiving".

[Jeff R]

My Dad was 21 years old when the draft started, before WW2. He was the first man drafted in Chisago County. He ended up in the Army, in the 164th Infantry Regiment, which was part of the Red Bull Division. To bolster forces in the Phillipines, his regiment was detached from the Red Bull Division, and had orders to head to San Diego to board a convoy. They left Camp Claiborne, Louisiana on 5 trains. On the way, somebody threw the wrong switch on the train tracks, and the train that had all their heavy weapons ended up in Oregon.

The convoy couldn't be delayed, so another Army unit that was nearby was substituted for the 164th. In that unit was one of my Dad's boyhood pals from Lindstrom, a town 10 miles away. They got to the Phillipines just in time for Pearl Harbor. His buddy ended up captued, and died on the Bataan Death March.

Dad's regiment landed on Guadalcanal 3 months after the initial invasion by the Marines. The fighting went on for 6 more months. He got malaria and got down to 119 pounds. They were sent to New Caladonia to refit and get healthy. Their next landing was on Bouganville. They were up in the mountains there. They were wet for weeks at a time. A wouned marine was brought into his location who had been shot in the jaw. My Dad ran the motor pool, and was ordered to take the marine down to the coast, so he could be taken down a hospital that had been set up on Guadalcanal. It turned out that the wounded marine was Orville Freeman, and the PT boat skipper that took him to Guadalcanal was JFK. Orville Freeman went on to become the governor of Minnesota, and then the Secretary of Agriculture in the Kennedy administration.
He didn't talk about it much. He would not miss watching the "Victory at Sea" tv series on Sunday mornings.
Pa ended up making 5 amphibious landings, and was overseas for 3 1/2 years.

[Outpost75]

Master Chief friend of mine did a rotation as a recruiter in California the year before he retired. Then as now, the youngers were both colorful and irreverant. A disreputable punk with ear and nose rings, with spiked hair in assorted colors came into a bar reaking of sweat and pot smoke. He had a bad case of the munchies and ordered a burger, fries and a pitcher of beer. Chief Decker stared at him intently for some time, saying nothing, which made the kid uneasy. The punk turned around confronted the chief and asked him:

"What are you staring at old man?"

Chief Decker smiled and in his slow Texas drawl said matter of factly, "When I was a young blue jacket on my first Pacific cruise, we stopped at Subic for our first Liberty after four months at sea. My shipmates took me to a mga bar ng mga mandaragat and got me almighty drunk and I returned to the ship with this tattoo. They repeatly tried to convince me for the rest of the cruise that I'd had carnal knowledge of a parrot and I'd refused to believe it until now when I saw you, and I believe that you might be my son."

[Winger Ed.]

While overseas, I knew a guy who had rotated off the Drill Field a few months before.

After 'the event' he'd done a little research and found out the back story of it.
He told of getting a recruit from some place back up in the hills where the Marine and Army recruiters had to share a govt. car.
The Marine was coming up a little short of recruits, and his Army buddy had done well, and even had a few 'extras'.

One day, the Marine told the Soldier, "Hey, I'll buy Lunch if you give me one of them hogs".
So, on one of the enlistment forms, they erased the check mark in the "USA" box, and put a X in the "USMC" box.

2-3 weeks into training with his new platoon, this kid comes busting into the DI's office--- just hopping mad!
(He'd gotten a letter from his friend asking where he was and what happened to him.)

"What do you mean this ain't the Army!!! Me and my buddy joined the ARMY!!!
He's a Corporal now. And I'm in here talking to you...………. BALD HEADED"!!!

[Winger Ed.]

I'd told that recruiter/Boot Camp story to a friend years ago and he started laughing--
it reminded him of a story his uncle had told him when he was drafted in WWII.

The uncle was standing in line at the enlistment station, and they're getting processed.
A Navy Petty Officer is asking people what job they had. If you were a cook, you had a REAL good chance of being a cook in the military.
If you'd worked in construction-- you were going to be 'recommended' to be a CB or Combat Engineer, and so on...

The guy in front of the uncle looked like a gorilla. Big, no neck, hair coming out everywhere,,,,,
when the PO asked what he did, replied, he been a 'Mandrill King' in the circus.

"What's that"?
He explained that he was in charge of all the monkeys and apes for the circus, and whenever they didn't perform,
and would 'entertain themselves', he'd have to go into the cage and beat them with a night stick..

The Navy PO looked at him, probably realizing that a monkey can kill you in a couple of seconds.
And that he might some day end up on a ship with this fella......

Then without a word, he erased the mark in the 'USN' box and made one in the "USMC" box & send him on down the line.

[wch]

My father was an MP assigned with others to patrol the Ledo and Burma roads. He and his platoon road motorcycles (his favorite was an Indian) and in order to clear human traffic off the roads to let a convoy go through, they would cause the bikes to backfire. Fearing strafing by Japanese airplanes the people would dive into the ditches, thus clearing the roads.
It sounds cruel but the convoy drivers were Chinese and Burmese soldiers who had no concern for the lives of the pedestrians and would run over them without hesitating, and besides, the supplies got through much faster!
That's war.

[nelsonted1]

Dad was always pretty slick so when his pay for fouled up he went without pay for a few months. He didn't miss the money since he played poker and worked the black market. He said he even managed to own all the pencil lead in puson Korea at one time. Then, his c.o. Called him in and said he'd discovered dad hadn't been paid in months and wondered what he did for.money. Dad thought quick and all he could come up with was grandpa sent him a flying twenty now and then. His lame story worked.since up the questions stopped.

[nelsonted1]

Dad also swore he couldn't drive. Not a lick. Not once not ever. He said the officers got drunk in the morning and stayed drunk all day. Then, they'd find a driver and they go sightseeing looking at the dead bodies floating by on the river heading out to sea. Once they made him a body guard and they went pheasant hunting. He said if you never saw drunk officers pheasant hunting you missed something special. Then a bird colonel looked down his m1 barrel and found it was rusted solid. That was trouble. The houseboy spent a couple days clearing it. Dad was a draftee.

[nelsonted1]

Then, for some reason he was chosen for an experiment. Wacs in an office in Japan were out of control bickering and fighting hating on each other. The brass figured they needed an expendable target to distract them so they sent dad. He loved that job like no other. The only man mixed in with 25 wacs. He was a draftee.

[nelsonted1]

He knew an soon to be officer in basic. Became pretty close. The guy said he was a lawyer and got drafted. The army decided he was better off an officer. He'll no! Said the lawyer. The army made life impossible. Then he told dad he was out in a kitchen and made.to scrub pans. Finally, he Said he was faced with the largest pile of potatoes in the whole and army and broke down. Dad saw him a few.months later a newly spiffed.leutenant.

[nelsonted1]

In his office in a boxcar in korea he, along with eight or nine others, tallied columns of shipping numbers all day long for.The railroad. The railroad was.crying for.engineers. They had trains but no g.i. Engineers. They read about the troubles on the teletype in the office. The cool part was there were two engineers in the office with dad. The army has sent them to KoreA and forgot them! Dad and everyone else kept it secret.

[nelsonted1]

Then he got a new job. When a big operation would be on the hospital trains would.come in At night. They'd line up for a mile heading for the end of rail. He said the sight of a mile.long train with every light lit in every car with bunks.stacked three high all covered in white sheets, with nurses, doctors and corpmen in white walking back and forth and the white steam off the trains mixed in was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. Then, one night they took him into the hotel lobby where triage was being performed. The less hurt would go upstairs, the worse hurt would go out to the hospital ships in the harbor. The dieing was dad's job. Try to get the family contact info from them because the information was on the line with company clerks. He said he'd never forget a 2nd lt. Who looked younger than dad stare at him as his last breath was leaving his body.

[Thumbcocker]

My uncle was a cook on one of the early nuke subs. His galley had lots of pipes and conduits running through it and occasionally a speck of dirt or grease would be found in a nook or cranny during inspection and he would catch heck. He figured that if he could get some stainless steel sheet metal covers made for the pipes and conduits he could keep the galley clean and neat. He got the ok from his superior to try but was told that it would take forever to get all the red tape and forms done. He went to the sheet metal shop on the base and was told it would be months before they could get to his job etc. He asked if the guys in the shop liked coffee and ham sandwiches. They did. One of his jobs was ordering food for the boat. So on his next order he ordered a few extra hams and 20# cans of coffee. He went to the metal shop with a jeep load of coffee and ham. The next morning there were guys in the galley measuring and looking. A few days later all the troubling pipes were covered in stainless steel with hinged access points. The galley sparkled. the captain came to the galley and asked how he got things done so fast. then said "I don't want to know",

He told another story about a marine diesel engine at one base that was due for a rebuild. It was duly stripped cleaned gauged, measured etc. and everything put back in spec. When the engine was started there was no oil pressure. The engine was torn down again and everything checked. all was where it should be. The engine was re assembled and started. Again no oil pressure. A factory tech from the engine manufacturer was flown in and ordered the engine torn down. He checked the parts and everything was good. The engine was re assembled and started. No oil pressure. The factory rep tapped the oil pressure gage with the handle of a screwdriver and oil pressure was optimal.

[missionary5155]

My good friend "Chuck" was an anti- tank gunner during WW2. He went into France on D-Day +3. As his unit had vehicles they began picking up all sorts of auto weapons until every man had a Browning 1919 belt fed to have in their own foxhole plus a Thompson and all the grenades they wanted. As the year wore on they picked up a couple more vehicles and had plenty of ammo, food and fuel always.
They were in Belgium when the "Bulge" stated supporting an Infantry unit on line that bugged out without communicating to their position up on a hill on the flank. Real fast they got surrounded.
But they had a caliber .30 machinegun in every hole and ammo boxes stacked in every hole. Numerous times the Germans tried to overrun their hill as it overlooked the road they wanted. But from whatever direction they came from they were met with overwhelming machinegun fire and anti-personnel canister rounds fired from the numerous 37mm guns. Finally the Germans gave up and choose a different route leaving that hill along.
About 10 days later an American unit trying to get somewhere stumbled upon them and radioed their headquarters that the lost AT platoon was well and needed directions to US lines.

[Winger Ed.]

Used to know a guy who participated in the town to town street fighting in France as they pushed the German Army back to Berlin.

He talked of how ferocious the fighting was.
He said the troops didn't really care that much about liberating any given town for it's own sake.

They fought for the towns because once you captured it, you could sleep in a basement somewhere and have a fire,
instead of being out on the snow or rain in a open field.

[WRideout]

My father was a ww2 seabee. He hated it and didn't want to be there.

Anytime I was a kid and bitched about something his response was " you don't know nothing, you should have been on Saipan when the japs counter attacked".

Thank god I never had a day like that.

He was a better man than me and I miss him every day.

I just finished reading "Goodbye Darkness" by William Manchester who served in the Pacific during WWII as a Marine Corps Sergeant. He described the fighting on Saipan in graphic detail. If you want to know about the Pacific Theater, read this book. BTW, the Marines loved the Seabees, who fought alongside them, and prepared runways for air support.

I grew up near Port Hueneme, home of a USNCBC battalion, and I believe, the engineer school. When I grew up I joined the Army mostly to get away from the Navy.

Wayne

[Winger Ed.]

My Dad was a Radio Operator in the Air Force during the early days of the Korean War.
He was among the first few guys stationed on Adak, Alaska and was there for 18 months.
Back then, they lived and worked in those Gomer Pyle looking Quonset huts that had kerosene heaters.
He told of it getting so cold in the winter, the kerosene for the heaters would freeze.

Besides the radio listening post, Adak was also a re-fueling station for planes going up from Korea to Japan,
over to Adak, then on down to California.
Several different types of planes couldn't quite make the flight going to Hawaii or Guam, then to California.

Among their duties there was working the fueling station.
Pop said pilots coming from the war zone would get out, walk around to stretch their legs, look out over the frozen nothing,
and several would say, "This place is worse than where I came from". As soon as the fuel hose come off, they left.


One of his buddies had traded for or bought a real nice Russian sniper rifle from somebody passing through.
To get it home without it being stolen/confiscated, he mailed it home piece by piece a few days or a week apart to his Mom.
A couple days before he transferred out, he got it back.
His Mom had taken all the parts to a local gunsmith, had it reassembled,, and she mailed it back to him.

He sold it to another buddy, who may have had better luck with getting it back home...

[Der Gebirgsjager]

Well, in a similar vein, when stationed in Germany my outfit was billeted in what had been the Adolph Hitler Kaserne, the last of some very modern multi-storied barracks built prior to WW II, all lined up in a neat row. They had no difficulty in fitting 2 Infantry Companies of approx. 150 men into one barrack building, each company taking up about 1 1/2 floors. So in my building there was C and D companies, and just across the company street was E and HQ companies. Each building had a very secure arms room in the basement, steel door, and the locks of which were checked a couple of times a night by the CQ (Charge of Quarters) NCO. When in garrison, during the daytime when the arms room was open, there was an arms specialist constantly on duty in the room. The point of this is that theft from an arms room was almost impossible.

So, one night, in the middle of the night, came a shake down inspection. Everyone out of their bunks in their skivvies, open your wall and foot lockers, and stand by. Entering the rooms came several NCOs, a couple of which weren't from our company, and everything was thoroughly ransacked and turned over, even wall lockers tipped to the side and peered beneath. It was noted that the NCOs were thoroughly P.O.ed, but no explanation was offered.

The next night it happened again, and then a third time. From the lights that were on in the barracks across the street it was apparent that the very same thing was occurring over in E and HQ companies. Following the 3rd shake down, and only then, was the story circulated that a 1911 .45 pistol was missing in E company, and that the soldier to whom it was assigned claimed that it had been lost on maneuvers. He said that when he went to turn it in his holster was empty. So, out into the field went E company where they spent four days going over everywhere that they had been during the past exercise, searching and searching for the missing .45, but coming up empty. Well, the soldier's story was somewhat plausible in that something like a .45 could be permanently lost once it fell out of a holster in the forest, or it could have even been picked up and taken home by a German civilian; but, as was also pointed out, you would think that he would have missed the weight of the pistol. After a few more days nothing more was heard about it, and it went "out of mind."

About three months passed, and then early one morning two members of the Army C.I.D. appeared in the Orderly Room of Company E. They set the missing .45 on the 1st Sgt.'s desk and demanded the presence of Pvt. XXXXXX who had "lost" the weapon. It appears that he had been mailing it back to the States a piece at a time, not realizing that his mail would be watched. Not too smart. In short order he was on his way to the Disciplinary Barracks at Levenworth, and for all I know may still be there, although it seems unlikely since this occurred 56 years ago.

[Winger Ed.]

It appears that he had been mailing it back to the States a piece at a time, not realizing that his mail would be watched. Not too smart. In short order he was on his way to the Disciplinary Barracks at Levenworth, and for all I know may still be there, although it seems unlikely since this occurred 56 years ago.

The military doesn't have any sense of humor at all when it comes to lost or stolen weapons.
At least in Garrison or peacetime.
I was on a Naval Air Station when the armory came up short a M-16.

The MPs searched every vehicle going off base for almost a day. And a good search of all the work spaces.
It was found to be a mix up of their count, custody cards, and serial numbers list, and not stolen or missing after all.
But they about turned the place upside down looking for that rifle until they figured it out.

[William Yanda]

"The military doesn't have any sense of humor at all when it comes to lost or stolen weapons.
At least in Garrison or peacetime." Winger Ed

Or even parts. While in Basic Training at Ft. Dix we had guard duty. The course work that week had included assembly and dis-assembly of the M-16. One of the other Private's disassembled his rifle while on post, losing the firing pin. If one of the Sergent's of the Guard hadn't known someone in the Marksmanship unit I would probably still be there.

[lefty o]

The military doesn't have any sense of humor at all when it comes to lost or stolen weapons.
At least in Garrison or peacetime.
I was on a Naval Air Station when the armory came up short a M-16.

The MPs searched every vehicle going off base for almost a day. And a good search of all the work spaces.
It was found to be a mix up of their count, custody cards, and serial numbers list, and not stolen or missing after all.
But they about turned the place upside down looking for that rifle until they figured it out.

no they do not. my first ship was an LST, and one of the marines lost his weapon. that ship was torn apart endlessly for weeks. the rifle never did surface.

[Moleman-]

My buddy lost an M16 while on guard duty in port on his sub. Said the sling broke and the rifle was falling before he knew what was happening. He said he could still hear the sound of the rifle hitting the hull and splashing into the water. Of course he instantly was in deep dog do and questioned for hours and told the slings never break. A diver was sent down but came up empty handed. More questioning and the diver was sent down again. Just before the diver came up his hand brushed against something in the murky water. The rifle was almost completely buried in the mud. Once they got the rifle to the surface they found that the sling swivel rivet had let go and allowed the rifle to fall. Said he bought the diver a bottle as a thank you.

[poppy42]

When I was in High School I worked at a truck garage. There was a grumpy old man that only I got along with for some reason. Art was in an artillery unit in WW2. He was a couple years older than the others so was the unit's "Old Man". He said he was somewhat undecided about the war, it was what you did at the time. Until his unit liberated Auschwitz. After that he hated the Germans, they killed as many as they could anyway they could. He still had some of it when I knew him.

Don
That guy must have been in the Russian army. Auschwitz was liberated by the Russians January 25, 1945. Either that or he was confused and it was one of the other concentration camps located in western Germany

[poppy42]

Sorry January 27 not the 25th. More than likely Dachau or Buchenwald. Not that the name make a difference.

[Winger Ed.]

The jury duty thread reminded me again of my Dad's old friend again that had been a early 1960's issue USMC Lt .

I told him of a story I'd read in the Reader's Digest Humor in Uniform section.
It was about a young 2ndLt. who had the Officer Of The Day duty one hot, hot summer day at a Grunt base in the Carolinas.
Back then, even the Commanding General's office probably didn't have a air conditioner.

He toured the barracks, and back in the 'Day Room' or the common area that had a TV, pool table, the Duty NCO's desk,
he cast his gaze on the Coke machine. They were 15 cents.
He dug in his pocket, pulled out a nickel & a couple pennies, but not 15 cents, and the machine didn't make change.

He asked the Duty NCO, "Corporal, do you have change for a quarter"?
"No Sir".

He asked another guy sitting around,,, and another "No Sir".
Last guy in the room, was a kid playing pool... "Marine, do you have change for a quarter"?
The kid reached into his pocket, pulled out 2-3 dollars in silver coins, and replied, "Sure Buddy".

,,,,,,,, the young 2nd Lt took him up & down the road.
"Do you know how to address an Officer? Do you know how to talk to the Officer of the Day? blah, blah, blah..
OK,,, let's try this again. Private, do you have change for a quarter"?

With a straight face,,,, he replied, "No Sir".


I asked my Dad's buddy if anything like that ever happened to him when he was on active duty.
He told me, "EVERY,,,,,,, SINGLE,,,,,,,,,,,,, DAY".

[Nazgul]

Sorry January 27 not the 25th. More than likely Dachau or Buchenwald. Not that the name make a difference.

Thanks, may have been Dachau. Long time and lot of miles ago..

Don

[TheGrimReaper]

I just got done reading a book called Descent into Darkness by a retired Navy officer who was a young salvage diver in the states and was suddenly on the first thing smoking to Pearl Harbor on December 8th, 1941. The book has a lot of this kind of stuff in it like this. Besides Pearl Harbor, he spent time out in the fleet, got a ship shot out from under him and spent a few months on Guadalcanal before returning to finish things up at Pearl. Interesting stuff, and I don't think men that brave exist anymore, at least not in those numbers. The Greatest generation.


I too have this book, and it was really, really good book!

[UKShootist]

My father was a gunnery instructor in the Royal Navy and had little do do with Americans during the war. Getting him to talk about his service was like pulling teeth but he came out with a few, one of which I shall relate here. After his ship, HMS Somali, was sunk while on convoy duty returning from Russia, he was transferred to an old paddle steamer, (the Jenny Dean) based around Woolwich docks on the Thames. This paddle steamer had been fitted out with as many anti aircraft guns of various types as possible and it's daily routine was to set out into the Thames estuary and spend the day shooting at anything that was German. He had a quite exciting war one way and another as you might imagine because the Germans returned the compliment with vigour.

Now, for some time, where they docked of an evening there was a large American ship, he didn't say exactly what but it wasn't a fighting ship as such. For some reason the crew of that ship thought it immensely entertaining to mock the paddle steamer as it splashed off out of sight to do it's daily work, and of course, the same upon it's return. It apparently got well past being amusing. One night there was an air raid in the vicinity. The crew of the American ship were sensibly out of sight during the course of it, but my father's ship got busy at the enemy aircraft as you might expect. When dawn broke, the American ship's superstructure had mysteriously been shot to pieces. Attributed to the remarkable accuracy of the German aircraft, or not, as the case may be.

He also related that while moored one night an air raid has caused nearby warehouses to burn fiercely. In the mayhem some crew members managed to rescue a large number of sacks of sugar from one fiercely burning warehouse. Apparently, the Jenny Dean was one of the few, possibly the only, RN ship that had sugar in their cocoa for the rest of the war.

[Outpost75]

The ingenuity of Jack Tar is legendary.

I expect that the story told in the classic Brit comedy Whisky Gallore (aka Tight Little Island in its US release) is also true.

Rule Britannia! Splice the Main Brace!

[UKShootist]

The ingenuity of Jack Tar is legendary.

I expect that the story told in the classic Brit comedy Whisky Gallore (aka Tight Little Island in its US release) is also true.

Rule Britannia! Splice the Main Brace!

Hic! [smilie=p:

Certainly based upon areal incident. (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/SS_Politician)


SS Politician was a cargo ship that ran aground off the coast of the Hebridean island of Eriskay in 1941. Its cargo included 22,000 cases of malt whisky and £3 million worth of Jamaican bank notes. Much of the whisky was recovered by islanders from across the Hebrides, although this was against the marine salvage laws. With no duty paid on the whisky, members of HM Customs and Excise became involved in chasing and prosecuting those who had removed the cargo.

Politician was built in 1923 under the name London Merchant. She was a general cargo ship that traded between Britain and the United States and Canada, and up and down the west coast of the US. In 1924—during the years of American prohibition—Oregon's state prohibition commissioner seized her cargo of whisky even though had been approved and sealed by the US federal authorities. After the British Embassy in Washington complained to the Federal authorities, the whisky was released back to the ship. During the Second World War Politician participated in the Atlantic convoys between the UK and US. In February 1941 she was on her way to the north of Scotland, where she was to rendezvous with a convoy when she ran aground.

The local islanders visited the wreck of Politician continually to unload whisky, even though it was in a hold filled with marine engine oil and seawater. Customs men undertook raids, arresting many and seizing boats of those they suspected of taking part. The excise authorities pushed for changes under the punitive customs legislation, but the authorities charged those arrested with theft. Many were found not guilty or not proven, and several were fined; 19 were incarcerated at Inverness Prison for terms ranging between 20 days and two months. The whisky raised by the salvors was shipped back to its bonded warehouses, although this was also looted during its journey. No-one was injured or killed in the accident. Two salvage crews removed much of the cargo, and the second crew raised the wreck off the seabed. Part of the ship's hold, and its stern, were cut away and sank to the bottom of Eriskay Sound. To ensure no more looting took place, the remainder of the hold was destroyed with gelignite.

[Winger Ed.]

Worked with a guy for awhile that was Black Shoe Navy and spent most of his tour
on one of those Amphibious Assault ships carrying hundreds of Grunts and Amtraks.

Out in the ocean cruising along, there isn't much to do.
If you're going to tease the Grunts, you have to be rather creative.

On the USS Big Gray, the Grunts had to stand in line for almost everything.
And whatever you were waiting for had very short, precise hours.

A few sailors would line up in front of a door out on deck.
A Grunt or two would come by and ask what they were waiting for.
They'd tell him, "I need to buy a couple things, and am waiting for the door to open".
They would get in line with them.

After there was a few, one sailor at a time would say, "I have to go on Watch", "I don't need anything this bad",
"I'll have to come back later", etc. and trickle away, leaving several Marines standing in line in front of the door.
The sailors would drift off, and go to another level of the ship to watch...…..

Sooner or later one of the Marine Staff NCOs who had been on those ships before, would come along and ask,
"What are you people doing"?

"We're waiting for the door to open".
Then the Gunny Sgt or whatever would open the door,
showing that nothing was in there except some paint cans or a stack of mops.

Then it would start...………
A real life episode of Gomer Pyle with Sgt. Carter screaming and jumping up & down.

[Winger Ed.]

Same guy from the above story:
He was a deep water sailor who had come home on leave, got in a car accident, and broke both legs.
When he got out of the hospital, he was too busted up for sea duty, only had a few months left,
so the Navy just attached him to the closest USN command and let him ride out his enlistment on light duty there.
He ended up in our shop on the Naval Air Station.

One day, he asked me, "Do Marines live on candy bars"?

He went on and told of going to sea one time, and they had a brand new Ensign.
They put him in charge of ordering all the stuff for the candy machines and the ship's store.
Among his other duties, he was the Officer in Charge of candy bars.

Before going out, of the few hundred sailors, he'd asked almost every sailor on the boat,
"How many candy bars do you eat a day"? They told him things like,
"None", "Almost none", "Maybe one every few days if I'm on Watch", "2 or 3 in a week maybe", and so on.

So, the young Ensign did the math, multiplying out- how many weeks they'd be at sea, how many candy bars a day
times how many sailors, he got a number,,,,,,,,, and plugged in the same figure for about 1200 Marines.
Then ordered the appropriate number of candy bars for the cruise.

The guy finished the story with,
"I don't think we were out of sight from California before there wasn't a single candy bar left on the ship".

[lefty o]

Worked with a guy for awhile that was Black Shoe Navy and spent most of his tour
on one of those Amphibious Assault ships carrying hundreds of Grunts and Amtraks.

Out in the ocean cruising along, there isn't much to do.
If you're going to tease the Grunts, you have to be rather creative.

On the USS Big Gray, the Grunts had to stand in line for almost everything.
And whatever you were waiting for had very short, precise hours.

A few sailors would line up in front of a door out on deck.
A Grunt or two would come by and ask what they were waiting for.
They'd tell him, "I need to buy a couple things, and am waiting for the door to open".
They would get in line with them.

After there was a few, one sailor at a time would say, "I have to go on Watch", "I don't need anything this bad",
"I'll have to come back later", etc. and trickle away, leaving several Marines standing in line in front of the door.
The sailors would drift off, and go to another level of the ship to watch...…..

Sooner or later one of the Marine Staff NCOs who had been on those ships before, would come along and ask,
"What are you people doing"?

"We're waiting for the door to open".
Then the Gunny Sgt or whatever would open the door,
showing that nothing was in there except some paint cans or a stack of mops.

Then it would start...………
A real life episode of Gomer Pyle with Sgt. Carter screaming and jumping up & down.

i think this is true on any amphib. we usually said we were waiting for ice cream.

[Winger Ed.]

i think this is true on any amphib. we usually said we were waiting for ice cream.

Hey, that would have suckered me into standing there too!

[lefty o]

Hey, that would have suckered me into standing there too!

to be fair, the marines dont have much else to do other than stand in line.

[wch]

A sign appeared on the Supply Room door that read "Sign up here for your GI lighter".
So most of the battery signed up, after all who wouldn't want a nice new issue lighter?
Would it be a Zippo? A Ronson?
Who knew? The speculation was rampant!
Finally the big day arrived and at the morning formation the First Sergeant announced "The GI lighters are in and all who signed up for them could get one after morning chow".
We lined up at the Supply Room door and it opened to expose a very large box of those OD "strikes when wet" matchbooks that were part of the C rats- yep, we got a free GI lighter, alright!

[Winger Ed.]

, we got a free GI lighter, alright!

We never got nothing like that from our Supply Dept.
They had a big picture of everyone in the office laughing and cracking up..
Under it read, "You want it when"?

[popper]

Supply depot - large grey ship alongside! Milk and veggies gone a day from the US.

[Winger Ed.]

In a helicopter squadron, we had pretty much regular hours, but someone from each shop would have to stay until the last bird had come in.
That's a lot of time to hang around and swap sea stories if we were doing troop lifts late into the night.

One of my buddies had spent a few years as a Drill Instructor at San Diego.
He told of one time there was an Inspector General's inspection coming up.
Where ever you're at, a IG inspection is a big deal.
More so on a Grunt base, and especially so at a Recruit Depot.

His recruit platoon was scrubbing away,,,,,,, when he wandered into the Head,,,,,,,,,,, a Private was stuck.
Granted, he'd told them he wanted those pipes clean, "From here to the Pacific Ocean".

One Private was scrubbing out the commode, going as far towards the ocean as he could reach,,,,, and got his arm stuck.

They tried pulling, a bottle of soap, more pulling, and of course, plenty of yelling,,, nothing was working.

As a last effort before calling base maintenance to bust it, he told him,
"Sweet Pea, When I get back, you better have your entire scuzzy body on one side of that commode or the other".

He never figured out how, but the kid did it.
He'd gone out for a couple of minutes, but when he came back-
The kid had got his arm out of the thing without breaking it.

[RustyMusket]

My Dad was one of 10 brothers, 9 of whom served in WWII and Korea. My Dad is the last one now and at 92, he was one of the youngest in WWII..right at the end. I was the family historian and as I got older, I sat down with my remaining Uncles and they shared some stories. Most interesting was from one who was a medic in ETO. He was ""detained"" 3 times by Germans but traded back or let go. One thing I did learn was the horrors and revenge inflicted on Germans by displaced peoples until about November of 1945.

But about 3 months ago, while grocery shopping, I saw an old Navy vet with his son. I stopped and spoke with him and he proceeded to tell me a story of being "Lost" until 1946. Apparently, he was dropped on a small, uninhabited Pacific Island with 6 or so others and they were to send radio reports back to fleet about any Japanese ship movements they saw. The radio evidently died and they were left...or 'forgotten" as he stated as the island hopping campaign moved on to Japan. He said he became expert at using a bayonet on small sharks and they were close to starvation when the Navy came back looking for such souls. I think he said Feb or March of 46 was when they were 'retrieved".

[Iowa Fox]

I got out of the Army in 1969 glad to have my military obligation out of the way and behind me. There were lots of returning vets going back to work and we had several navy guys at work so I heard plenty of their sea stories. A couple involved the new guys out at sea that were sea sick.

One said in the morning before breakfast he would climb up on the fantail and get a baby albatross chick still in down out of the nest and put it in his shirt pocket. In the mess hall he would sit across from one of the new guys with horrible sea sickness. After getting firmly seated he would pull the chick out of his pocket, bite the head off and throw it in the guys tray. Never failed to made them loose it he said.

One said they walked around with a raw piece of bacon hanging out of their mouths to make the sea sick guys loose it.

Another one said the bars in the Philippines had jars of balutes on the bar counter like we had pickled eggs here in the US. He talked about buying the prostitutes at the bar balutes to win their favorer. He said they loved them.

The guys were characters and I didn't doubt their stories a bit.

[FISH4BUGS]

Not a GI story but a dependent story. Traveling from Germany after Dad's duty stations at Munich, Stuttgart and Dachau, in 1956 on the USS Buckner (or was it the Darby? I can't remember which) we encountered two major things - a hurricane and the Stockholm in NY harbor. We steered south to skirt the hurricane but still had 40' seas. Very scary stuff and sick as a dog for days on end. No one could go out on decks. They were roped off.
Pulling into NY harbor we saw the Stockholm with its bow chewed up badly.
I was only 8 years old but I remember it like yesterday.

[Winger Ed.]

While stationed at Quantico, VA the Air Station was it's own small, self contained, isolated place inside the base.
Besides the hangers & planes, we had our own barracks, slop chute, single seat barber shop, a 7-11 sized PX,
and our own small Chow Hall that could seat a few dozen.

Among the things going on there besides the maintenance dept. for the Presidential Helicopter Fleet,
we had a handful of Fleet helos- CH-53s, CH-46s, & Hueys for support
to the White House, OCS, pilot training, testing new aircraft & potential modifications, etc.

One of the things we did was carry the Marine Corps Band and Silent Drill Team to events up & down the East Coast.

In our little Mess Hall, with all the folks who lived on base and went home for Lunch, brought their Lunch, or just didn't eat Lunch,
It was REAL easy to find a seat.

I went in one day, and set up at one end of the dining room was the Marine Corps Band.
The one you see on TV! They were in utilities, and not dress blues or dress reds, but it was them.

How cool is that! It was 'a moment in life' for me.

All 15 or 20 of us sat there, and watched them go through a whole show's performance.
It was a totally un-announced performance and a 'thank you' to the Squadron for supporting them, often on short notice,
and a final practice for some event we were flying them to later on that day.

It was un announced, and if ya didn't come in at eat that day or know some one who did-
you'd never even have heard about it.

They performed their entire show for a couple dozen of us low ranking enlisted turds---
like we were the most important audience of European Royalty, or VIPs they'd ever had.

[MrWolf]

You were royalty. You were serving this great country. Thanks for your service.

[Winger Ed.]

Watching the news today, I saw an old friend. The President was getting off Marine One, and as he was on the airstair door,
you could see the pilots in there.
That reminded me:

When I first got assigned to the Executive Flight Detachment, I noticed the crew wore the usual helicopter flight helmets-
except on a White House mission. For those, they wore a headset like radio operators wear.
I thought it was odd. They'd have to wear sunglasses instead of having the drop down visors on a helmet.

I asked about it and was told the crew used to wear a standard helmet.
In the early days of the JFK administration, they took a White House mission, and the First Lady,
Jackie Kennedy asked the crew chief, "What's that"?

Without thinking, he told her, "It's a crash helmet".

She then asked, "Where's mine"?

From that day forward, the Marine One flight crew has worn the wire frame headsets the hear the radios.

[William Yanda]

"I grew up near Port Hueneme, home of a USNCBC battalion, and I believe, the engineer school. When I grew up I joined the Army mostly to get away from the Navy." Wayne

How did that work out for you? I joined the Army by special invitation.....from my friends and neighbors!

[Winger Ed.]

How did that work out for you? I joined the Army by special invitation.....from my friends and neighbors!

I'd wanted to be a Marine ever since I was a little kid.
There was vets in the family from the other services, but no Marines.
It was just something I wanted to do, and got a Avaition Maintenance guarantee.

The parents were none to pleased either.
The Marines were almost all out of Viet Nam when I went in.
I always knew if there had been a military plane that crashed anywhere in the world before we got the word about it.
My Mom would track me down and call to be sure I was OK.
But after I got out, they were finally cool with it.

[LUBEDUDE]

My brother, RIP was a Marine on the USS Coral Sea. He never opened up me about Nam for over 20 years. Besides loading ordinance to aircraft, he made napalm.

He told me that he thought it was such BS having to deal with inspections when he had so much more “real work” to do getting the jets loaded up for battle.

He came up with a trick to weasel out of inspections. He would light up a cigarette while mixing the diesel fuel and Tide to make the napalm.

When the CO would come to his area the assistant would say, “Fortlage is crazy, I wouldn’t go in there”. Sure enough the CO turned around and left never to return for another inspection.

My brother never told anyone that it took burning magnesium to set off the napalm.

[shdwlkr]

Some of my first bosses when I started working in engineering were vets, one I remember most was a WWII vet he went from Normandy to Berlin. He would get really drunk some days and I ran interference with the higher ups for him. They got to the point if he was not talking they would come and ask me if he was having a bad day and I would answer yes. He talked about a lot of things when he was in such a state mostly to me as we worked that close. Another of my bosses was a Korean vet that lost part of a finger as it got shot off. Now I am wondering what happened to a high school friend and fellow vet from Vietnam era that I can't get a hold off. War is hell, but losing contact with close friends that endured some similar things I think is worse as you know first hand what might be going on with them.

[jonp]

Grandfather went ashore at Normandy and walked all the way to Germany. Since he spoke French he was in front through France and he had a knack for language so picked up German pretty fast and was always on patrol as an interpreter or something. He rarely spoke about any of that but did tell me one time when I was very young how he got his purple heart.

He was out on patrol one night just after crossing into Germany and his squad got caught in a rock slide. They were all killed except him and he had a broken back unable to move. Along came a German Soldier who found him. They looked at each other and my Pepre thought he was all done but he said the German put down his rifle and said "no more, I'm fighting no more". He picked up my Grandfather and carried him several miles back to his base and surrendered. My grandfather said he visited that POW in England before he was shipped home after getting out of the Hospital and ate dinner with him. He couldn't really think of how to thank him enough so they talked about each others homes and stuff.

[LUBEDUDE]

Even though my brother would not talk about Vietnam for 20 years, he did tell about a few experiences about being on leave in the Philippines after being home for about 10 years.

Most stories were of gambling and hookers. But the one I will always remember probably has more to do with the culture there.

One day while walking down the street he saw a young boy run up behind a man and grab his Seiko or Rolex watch. It had that band where the clasp folds within itself. The watch thieves had a way of sliding a finger between the clasp and wrist and the make a twisting pulling motion to slide the watch off within a second.

As the child ran away with his treasure a policeman that witnessed it pulled out his pistol and shot the kid in the back of the head. He walked over and picked up the watch and gave it back to the man.

My brother said that there was little reaction of the onlookers.

[koehn,jim]

THat sounds like alongapo city at Subic bay. That was how they dealt with the thieves that prayed on service men. The rest of the Philipines was different.

[LUBEDUDE]

THat sounds like alongapo city at Subic bay. That was how they dealt with the thieves that prayed on service men. The rest of the Philipines was different.

Interesting, thank you.

If my bother told me exactly where I don’t remember, it was over 35 years ago when he told me.

[lefty o]

Interesting, thank you.

If my bother told me exactly where I don’t remember, it was over 35 years ago when he told me.

what happens in olongapo stays in olongapo!

[Todd N.]

I could tell you about things I experienced, but it gives me endless pride to tell you about my uncle, Abraham "Sonny" Nelson.

Uncle Sonny was a very comical guy as I was growing up. Heck, I never even knew he was in the service, unlike my father who served in the U.S. Navy during the Korean War.

I was in my early 20's when Uncle Sonny passed away. I flew from California to the East Coast to attend his funeral, and I was stunned to see men attending in Coast Guard dress uniforms. When I asked my aunt why there were there, she explained that Uncle Sonny not only served in the Coast Guard, he served during WW2, and then she dropped the biggest bomb...

Uncle Sonny drove landing craft delivering American troops onto the beach at Normandy during the D-Day invasion!

According to what my father told me later, Uncle Sonny was part of an all-volunteer of 14 Coast Guard Chiefs and Master Chiefs who were stationed at Cape May, New Jersey training boat drivers. He volunteered into a combat role, something completely removed from his normal job.

On June 6, 1944, my uncle took the wheel of an LCVP "Higgins" boat and started delivering 30-40 troops at a time through a nonstop barrage of German gun and rocket fire onto Omaha beach. This went on around the clock with no more than 4 hours of sleep a day. During the first 6 hours, his boat was hit by machine gun fire which caused a fire and then explosion in a Jeep he had on the deck. Despite suffering 2nd degree burns, Sonny stayed onboard long enough to make certain all of his crew and the troops were off the boat and safe. He stayed aboard long enough to open the seacocks and lower the loading ramp so that the landing craft would flood and sink quickly. He and the others were quickly rescued by another LCVP that was returning from delivering troops ashore.

After returning to a Navy ship for medical treatment, Uncle Sonny snuck out of Sickbay and arranged a ride back to another ship where he got assigned another LCVP and continued working despite the severity of his injuries. Troops, vehicles, ammo, food and medical supplies were some of the things he carried from ships to the shore during the invasion. Before the beach landing phase was completed, he suffered 2nd degree burns to his chest and arm and hands, lost 1 boat, saw hundreds of men injured and killed, and wanted nothing more than to "Do What He could To Help".

My uncle never spoke of this. My dad, a Navy veteran from the Korean and Vietnam Wars, said it was many years later that his brother told him about the whole story. Some of my cousins knew that he was in the Coast Guard before they were born. In the 1950's, 60's and 70's as they all grew up with him, it was easy to view him as the Coastie who saves people from sailboat mishaps at the beach, not ever guessing that he was a hero.

And that is truly how one describes him and others of his generation- and all of the men and women who serve- who gave much, sometimes everything, and asked nothing in return- not even recognition or praise. They are our friends, neighbors, co-workers, family.

They are heroes.

[MrWolf]

Nicely said. Thanks.

[jonp]

And that is truly how one describes him and others of his generation- and all of the men and women who serve- who gave much, sometimes everything, and asked nothing in return- not even recognition or praise. They are our friends, neighbors, co-workers, family.

They are heroes.

Well said and a great story. I can't help but compare our greatest generation to todays of the same age whining about how tough life is.

[Todd N.]

And that is truly how one describes him and others of his generation- and all of the men and women who serve- who gave much, sometimes everything, and asked nothing in return- not even recognition or praise. They are our friends, neighbors, co-workers, family.

They are heroes.

Well said and a great story. I can't help but compare our greatest generation to todays of the same age whining about how tough life is.

Yes, there is a reason we call them "The Greatest Generation".

They came home from a war that raged at a magnitude that we today cannot even comprehend, with a "Can Do" attitude about life. They didn't talk about the war, they didn't whine about anything- they embraced life.

[Winger Ed.]

Stories abound of new guys being sent out to go get prop wash, flight line, etc.

One time we had a guy check in wearing LCpl chevrons that looked about 16 years old.
He wasn't 16.
He was a Viet Nam vet who had gotten out, then a few years later, came back in, but lost a couple of stripes in the process.

While checking in, he'd always worn utilities so no one had seen him in a dress uniform with 3-4 rows of ribbons.

Looking so young, and at such a low rank, he was a prime candidate for sending out on 'new kid' errands.
His new boss told him to go scrounge up several yards of flight line---- 'and don't come back without it'.

Two days later, he still wasn't back. His new boss sent a couple guys out to look for him.
They him found at the boats docks in shorts and a T shirt, fishing.

After going back to work, and listening to all the blah, blah, blah, he told 'em,
"Hey, you told me not to come back without it".

[Winger Ed.]

Had a Crew Chief in the Squadron while I was on Okinawa that was a retread who looked like a teenager.

One of his favorite sea stories was when in 1974, he came back in and was stationed at Santa Anna, Calif.
He also had lost a couple stripes when he came back in.
He had Duty NCO one night, and the Duty Officer of the Day came through.

He's there wearing a ribbon block on his chest about the size of a shoe box lid, and Combat Air Crew Wings above it.
The OD, a young 2ndLt. who had been in the Marine Corps since about last Wednesday asked him,
"Lance Corporal, where did you get all those service ribbons and Combat Air Crew wings"?
"At the PX sir".

"Really..... Does your Commanding Officer know you have, and wear all those"?
"I'm not sure sir".

The OD, "Let's call him and find out".
"Lt. its awful late,,,,,,,,,,,,,, I don't think we should bother him".

"Make the call".
He did, and gave the phone over to the young Lt.
Shortly, the Lt came to attention, then, "No sir, I didn't I didn't know that. No sir, he didn't say anything about that".

Finally, after all the blood had drained from his face, the Lt. handed the phone back and said, "Here, its for you".

Him and the CO had flown together in Viet Nam, been shot down & crashed together, and had a very good working relationship.
The Commanding Officer, in closing, said, "If you knew how hard it was being a 2nd Lt. you wouldn't tease them so much".

[LUBEDUDE]

Those last two gave me my only laughs today, thanks Ed!

[Catshooter]

That was damn funny Ed!! Thanks.


Cat

[Winger Ed.]

First: I want to thank everyone for making this thread so great, and letting it become what it is.

A late addition to the thread about Midway USA reminded me of a story from a friend.
He was a USMC vet, and went to work as a civilian in Iraq during Desert Storm as a welder/Plumber doing work for the Army.

One of his tasks was replacing the big water storage tanks on fire bases after they'd been shot up.
They'd order a new one, wait several days or a few weeks for one to come in, install it, and call to have it refilled.

He was home one time, and telling me about the tanks, and I asked why they didn't just plug the holes.
It hadn't occurred to anyone, or they didn't have anything to do it with.

I had a couple little kits of Marine-Tex and a small Brownell's accra-glass kit I sent back with him.

It worked. They'd drain the water level below the lowest hole,
then slap the epoxy & a piece of fiberglass cloth over a bullet or mortar fragment holes,
It was dry/set before a tanker truck could get back to re-fill the storage tank.

For repeat customers- they'd leave some kits with the Grunts on the base, and they'd patch the tanks them selves.

Him, the Army, and his company were Brownell's biggest customer for a year or so-
just from buying thousands of those small size epoxy patch kits.

They're a little pricey- but still cheaper than a endless stream of new water tanks.

I thought that was pretty cool.

[sniper]

My favorite Uncle was a private, went ashore on D-Day, and fought through into Germany. He was just an unschooled cowboy, but one day, we were relaxing, and he started to talk about the atrocities he saw that were committed by the Germans on other Germans...mothers shot, covering their babies with their bodies, and then the infants shot, too. I had never before seen such pain on a human's face as he recounted his experience, and seldom since. He just did it once, and never talked about it again that I knew of.

[sniper]

When I was stationed at Keesler AFB in Electronics Tech School, one day there was an airman who decided to cross the street to the PX, and made the mistake of crossing where he made a Colonel slow his car slightly. The Colonel hopped out of his car, and stood the Airman tall, commenting on his parentage and intelligence. This was in the days before name tags became mandatory for enlisted personnel. Slowing slightly, the Colonel yelled "What's your name, boy?" "Maus, Michael E. Sir " the Airman replied. Satisfied, the Colonel went on his way. :-)

[MT Gianni]

When I was stationed at Keesler AFB in Electronics Tech School, one day there was an airman who decided to cross the street to the PX, and made the mistake of crossing where he made a Colonel slow his car slightly. The Colonel hopped out of his car, and stood the Airman tall, commenting on his parentage and intelligence. This was in the days before name tags became mandatory for enlisted personnel. Slowing slightly, the Colonel yelled "What's your name, boy?" "Maus, Michael E. Sir " the Airman replied. Satisfied, the Colonel went on his way. :-)

Don't get it?

[Winger Ed.]

Worked with a guy that for the least little thing, he'd go all crazy.
He'd scream at a junior trooper, pitch a fit, and cuss a blue streak at them.

He got ahold of me one day, everyone in the office was trying to look invisible, duck under a desk, etc.
I listened awhile, and said, "Hey, I'd like to hang out and chat, but I really need to get back to the shop", and left.

Whew !! That made him worse...

One of the guys told me later doing something like that would get me in a lot trouble.

I told him,
"When a Master Sergeant in the Marine Corps calls you a *******, ****** mother ****er,,,, you aren't the one in trouble".

[jreidthompson1]

Don't get it?Maus, Michael E = Mickey Mouse

Sent from my SM-N950U using Tapatalk

[Winger Ed.]

Years ago, I knew a guy who had been a USMC issue ground Officer during the early to late 1960's
and had served a couple of combat tours in Viet Nam.

He told a story of when a couple of his neighbors were over watching a football game and grilling, not too long after he got out.

He was in his kitchen cutting up chickens to go on the grill.
One neighbor was watching, and asked, "What the heck kind of knife is that"?

He told them it was a Marine Corps K-Bar he'd been issued in Viet Nam, as were all the Grunts over there,
and had been issued to ground troops since WWI.

The neighbor asked, "Did you ever kill anybody with it"?
It was a question he really didn't want to answer, but told him that, yes,,,, he had.

The neighbor rolled that around in his head for a moment, and said, "Don't fix me any chicken".

[jsizemore]

what happens in olongapo stays in olongapo!

Some stuff did leave and if you were lucky a shot of antibiotic would take care of it.

[samari46]

We made our Westpac Cruise roughly mid June '66 to early '67 and Olongapo was our favorite liberty post. Used to have division parties on Grande Island out in the bay.The old fort on the hill had two 10" disappearing guns still in their mounts. The sobering part was the lines of bullet scars on the walls inside the fort. Olongapo never had sewers back then and all sewage went into the ditches along side of the roads. One of my buddies got wasted one night and fell into one of the ditches. After he climbed out shore patrol tells us, well since he's one of yours make sure he gets back to the ship. Coxswain told him back of the boat on the 40' liberty launches. Officers up in the bow. Man did he ever reek. Frank

[Winger Ed.]

Some stuff did leave and if you were lucky a shot of antibiotic would take care of it.

Had a buddy that was there with the Grunts around 1990 or so-- whenever that big volcano blew up.
He was in a bar, felt a bump on his backside.
He felt back there and discovered a bar girl was trying to shake hands with his wallet.

One thing led to another, and he punched her out. He figured that was a good time to leave.
As he was headed out, the Police got after him.
To effect his escape, he jumped in and swam across **** River.

Back in the barracks, his buddies called their Fleet Corpsman.
After he'd spent about 30 minutes in the shower scrubbing down,
the Corpsman came over and gave him 9 shots.

We got shots over there for everything, and even diseases ya never heard of, or may have read about in the Bible.
On top of those, he got 9 more.

[wch]

Had a friend who spent the first 6 years of his Navy career at a base in Tennessee, finally got sea duty at Norfolk. He went into town on a Saturday night walked into a bar and ordered a beer.
My buddy had a "baby" face (he was 24 by then) so the bartender checked his ID card and reluctantly gave him his beer.
Buzz said the bar had a "big fish" mounted above the booze and he asked the bartender what kind of fish that was- the bartender snatched his beef off the bar and said "Any sailor who'd been in the Navy for 6 years would know what a hammerhead shark was!"
Buzz was immediately "86'd"!

[samari46]

Some genius in our engineroom decided to go shark fishing when we were moored at gitmo. they would have picket boats running around the ship and every once in awhile they'd toss a grenade in the water to see if any divers were trying to sabotage the ship. About a 100' of nylon rope,10' of chain and the biggest fish hook you ever saw. Go see the cooks and got a old roast beef they were gonna trash. They off to sick bay and donate blood for the cause. Assemble all that junk,inject the blood in the meat. and darned if we didn't get a 10' footer. OK now we got it what are we gonna do with it. Some officer comes by and said bring it by the officers mess and we'll have it for dinner. So we did. Rotten meat with just about all blood types injected in it. Course we didn't tell him that. Bunch of 18-20 somethings with nothing better to do. Frank

[Winger Ed.]

[QUOTE=samari46;483612 Bunch of 18-20 somethings with nothing better to do. Frank[/QUOTE]


Way cool!
I went to PR 'C' School at NAS Lakehurst in '77 with a 1st Class PO that told that story from Gitmo.
He was part of the SAR crew there for awhile.
He'd confirm it was boring- the front gate was locked, and there wasn't a back gate.

The kid fished all the time, and it was a pain get his parents to send him fishing gear.
Something big kept breaking his gear. So, he got the machinist Metal Smith guys to make the hook for him and went after it.
His line was a roll of Type 3 parachute cord--- 550 pound test.

[samari46]

Yeah, was fun while it lasted. Cook had no problem with the meat. Doc had a problem with giving blood and go fishing. usually we went to Gitmo for our operational readiness inspections prior to our deployments. Was doing my watch on the lube oil pumps for the main engines and reduction gears. And heard the whine pickup on everything in the engine room. Then the deck plates started rattling away. Found out we were doing an emergency full power run. 32.5 knots. Not bad for a 20 something year old carrier. Frank

[Winger Ed.]

I briefly worked with a Black Shoe sailor that had gotten hurt on leave. He couldn't go back to sea,
so they attached him to the closest USN command to finish his enlistment the last several weeks before he got out.

He was on a amphibious assault ship as a Signalman and never went down into the bowels of the ship--
except once, in the first few days he was aboard.

He was exploring, and went well down below the water line, and saw the 'Hull Technicians'.
They were working on the sewage system, and had pipes taken loose & apart.
He said, "They were just having a good ole' time down there throwing chunks of **** at each other".

He snuck out before they saw him, and never returned.

[3006guns]

My old mentor and friend (a Russian of the pre-Communist era)was a U.S. artillery officer in Italy during WWII. He told a couple of interesting tales.......

German pillbox surrounded by G.I.s. Commanding officer sends for my friend and orders him to shout at the Germans to surrender, or the grenades come in. The German gun crew filed out, hands on their heads, single file with a snooty Wehrmacht officer being last. As they passed, my friend spotted a nice leather holster on the officer's belt, so he unsheathed his bayonet and sliced the belt, taking the gun. He said his fondest memory of the war was that Kraut walking off in the distance with his hands on his head and knees getting wider and wider to keep his pants from falling down.......

He still had the gun and holster when he told me the story. It was a rather nice Walther, a PP I believe, in .22 long rifle caliber. No Nazi markings that I could see, so it must have been a private purchase.

Another, not so nice story, was when he ordered his guns to level an Italian farm house being used as a German artillery spotting post.......knowing full well the entire Italian family were captives inside. "I hated it" he said, "but those damn German guns were killing my boys....."

[firefly1957]

My friends father was not in the military he Graduated GMI Flint Michigan just before we went into war II if I am not mistaken upon graduation he was sent to Bombay India as Manager of the GMC heavy duty Truck plant . He told us many tales of being there but the most interesting one was how the British fought off the big Mitsubishi bombers long before they could bomb the city. He had a penthouse on the top of a building to live in the first time the air raid sirens went off he went to take cover however his house keepers said there was no need stay and watch he used a telescope to scan the horizon until he saw aircraft shortly after the British fighters would engage the big bombers and drop all but one of them . The last bomber was strafed over and over until it tumbled from the sky like a cat playing with a mouse . Finding some pilots in a bar he asked them about the reason and was told they knew the spots to approach the bombers that were safe for them and shot them down and the last plane was a contest between them . The pilots would shoot a bit off the end of each wing until the plane could no longer fly and tumbled to the ground the last pilot to shoot was supposed to buy the beer when they were down.
Pilots never had to buy beer people were so pleased with the defense they were getting everyone bought them beer.

He also told of the freighter that exploded in harbor because a raw cotton cargo got wet with sea water and ignited Years later I read of it in a book giving more details on what went wrong that day .

[Winger Ed.]

Went to school and Boot Camp with a guy whose Dad had been a Marine MP on Okinawa.
After the island was secured, he was in one of the units left behind for the occupation.

For MPs, business was sort of slow,
but when he had the night shift on their rotation for a week or two, there was no sleeping during the day.

Their barracks was framed with boards, and sheet metal slapped on it.
Just about the time you'd dose off,,,,,,, somebody would start shooting a .45 or M-1 Carbine chasing rats around in the rafters.

[Der Gebirgsjager]

The place must have been pretty leaky when it rained......

[Winger Ed.]

The place must have been pretty leaky when it rained......

Some people freak out seeing rats, snakes, spiders, etc.

I'd be more concerned about where those bullets came down, but what are ya gonna do? Call the MPs....

The Sea Bee guys probably got pretty fast at patching roof holes.:bigsmyl2:

[LUBEDUDE]

These stories are great. I sure wish this forum had a like/thanks button.

https://uploads.tapatalk-cdn.com/20200229/144b9fa118420a60a5a81aa159c9d793.jpg


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[Winger Ed.]

A few months before I went overseas, a classmate from PR 'A' School came aboard.

He was from New York, and had some serious misgivings about being stationed in Texas.

He told of his Dad going through Texas on a troop train during WWII when he was in the Army.
His Dad told him,
"Son, you might should try to get out of those orders.
Every single pickup truck I saw down there had at least one rifle in the back window".

[Winger Ed.]

A story I'd heard from my childhood friend that went into and retired from the Air Force---
this was years ago, when he still talked to me:

It is part of Air Force lore from the 70's.

It was about a guy stationed up in Alaska. He had the night shift on the Flight Line and the prestigious job
of driving the 'suck truck' that emptied out the bathroom tanks on the various planes that stopped through to refuel
between California and Japan.

He was out doing his job when a AF pilot from the plane he was draining, came over and watched.
After a bit he commented about his bad attitude, and said he was going to talk to his CO and recommend some
sort of punishment to straighten him out and correct his attitude.

He told the young pilot, "Sir. We are above the Artic Circle. It's cold. It's 3 AM. Its January.
I'm here on a Flight Line, sucking **** out of an airplane. What sort of punishment did you have in mind"?

[Winger Ed.]

Our Fleet Corpsman was in the shop one day and just about couldn't get through telling a story from laughing so hard.

One of the Grunts had come in with trench foot.
He fixed him up with a box of soap tablets about the size of 3 nickels stacked together, and explained how to use them

'The instructions are also on the box. Use 6 tablets at a time with a gallon and a half of water. Do it twice a day'

Then gave him a big plastic tub, sent him on his way, and told him to come back in 3-4 days.

Three days later, the kid is back, and has little or no change.

Doc asked him if he was doing the treatments.

The Grunt told him,
"Yeah. Swallowing those pills is no big deal. But I can't sit and drink 1 1/2 gallons of water twice a day".

[samari46]

Had what we called a contaminated tank under the bilges in the engine room. Oil,coffee grounds and other unmentionable liquids in it. First you pumped it over board, undo the bolts, take the cover off and climb down. To say the smell was unbearable would be a joke. Shovel out the solids, flush with a fire hose,pump it out again and wipe it down with rags. To say we stunk to high heaven was an understatement. Our chief hated everyone except himself, so if you ticked him off you'd bet your last dollar your turn would be next. In 3 years we only had one re enlistment. And each time the ships recruiter asked why they weren't re enlisting Chief Dennison. M division officer called him down to the division office and read him the riot act. Told him you're the reason no one's re enlisting. So cut the guys some slack or find another ship. Frank

[Winger Ed.]

Thinking of our old Fleet Corpsman reminded me of when I was in jets for a couple years,
and worked in the IMA Paraloft at a composite base with USMC and USN issue fighters.

Among our duties was the scheduled testing of the pilot's Oxygen regulators.
We had to lubricate a little part in them with a non-petroleum based oil.

If you use regular oil around or on stuff that comes in contact liquid or high pressure Oxygen-
it's easy to set your self up for something in between 'bursting into flames', and 'a explosion'.

Anyway:
One day we ran out. The Chief I worked for sent me to Sick Bay to get another can of oil.
I thought that was odd,,,, but I went over there anyway.

We've all heard about Castor oil-
but like the $50 Army Jeep that was always advertised in old Field & Stream classified ads:
I'd never actually seen any.

It's still around. I guess the Navy gives it to problem children--
They handed me a shiny, new, pint can, with a Federal Stock Number & label that read:

"Oil, Caster
Adult dose 2 tablespoons"

[Winger Ed.]

The threads about garlic & gas reminded me:

At Quantico, a junior trooper that worked for me was married and his wife worked at a big office in Wash. DC.
If there wasn't much going on, he could take a slightly extended Lunch Hour and go up there and have Lunch with her.

One such day, he came back and was 'down in the dumps' the rest of the day.
I suspected the worst from his Lunch visit and finally asked him what was wrong.

He told me:
"Working here,,,,, I'm turning into a pig--- just like you".

He went on-
"At my wife's office, as I was going up in the elevator, and I ripped off a big giant fart.
I looked over at the cutest lady in the elevator, and asked her, 'Don't you think you should excuse yourself'?"

"Everyone else looked at her, and she was so mortified, I thought she was going drop dead right there".

[oneofsix]

The threads about garlic & gas reminded me:

At Quantico, a junior trooper that worked for me was married and his wife worked at a big office in Wash. DC.
If there wasn't much going on, he could take a slightly extended Lunch Hour and go up there and have Lunch with her.

One such day, he came back and was 'down in the dumps' the rest of the day.
I suspected the worst from his Lunch visit and finally asked him what was wrong.

He told me:
"Working here,,,,, I'm turning into a pig--- just like you".

He went on-
"At my wife's office, as I was going up in the elevator, and I ripped off a big giant fart.
I looked over at the cutest lady in the elevator, and asked her, 'Don't you think you should excuse yourself'?"

Everyone else looked at her, and she was so mortified, I thought she was going drop dead right there.I laughed way too hard at this, guess I'm still just a child at heart.

Sent from my LG-H820 using Tapatalk

[FLINTNFIRE]

that there is funny

[popper]

start shooting a .45 or M-1 Carbine chasing rats around in the rafters
Had a SS teacher who got wharf duty MP after pacific ended. Best use of the 45 was shooting rats the size of yotes.

[samari46]

How many of you remember Olongapo city outside Clark AFB in the P.I.?. Remember all those bars?. Was sitting in one and this big lizard drops down to the floor and next thing was that a bunch of guys whip out their butterfly knives and start chasing it. Finally caught it and killed it. Guess what?,dinner tonight. Frank

[Winger Ed.]

Thanks again for everyone reading this thread and those contributing to it and making it as successful as it has become.

On another, rather obscure forum in the 90's one of our esteemed members was Mike Clausen.
To my knowledge, he was the only enlisted person in Marine Aviation during the War in Viet Nam
to receive The Medal Of Honor and live to tell the tale.

I emailed some with him. I never met him in person, but served with a few guys that knew and flew with him.
Like some other Marines in our nation's history, he is a legend of the Corps.

One of his favorite Sea Stories was when he was a CH-46 Crew Chief in Viet Nam.
When a new pilot came aboard, some right out of Flight School,
for their first few combat mission flights they flew as the Co-Pilot with the CO.

On one of these first flights, the Commanding Officer told the new pilot,
"We're taking a group of Grunts here.. The only thing I want you to do is lower the ramp when I tell you,
and close it when I tell you, because the Crew Chief can't.
His controls for it in the back have been shot away, and not fixed yet".

As they came into the landing zone, holes started popping into the plane, and the Grunts were shooting out of the windows.
The .50cal. Browning door guns were chugging away right behind the pilot's seats.
He told the Co-Pilot to lower the ramp.
The guy froze, and the CO reached over and triggered the switch-
before he started shooting a 1911 across the Co-Pilots face under his nose, and out the left side window.

They hit the ground and about 1/4 of a second later the Grunts were off and they were lifting out of the zone.
A little ways off the ground, he told the Lt. to raise the ramp.
The kid didn't move.
Then the CO reached over, flipped the switch, and raised it.

A little later, he started in on the new Lt.
"I gave you the two simplest things to do on this mission, and you screwed them up".

The new Lt., white as a sheet, looked over and told his Commanding Officer,
"I don't bother you when you're taking a ****".


We folded Mike's flag a few years ago.
Hopefully, his favorite Sea Story will live on.

[oneofsix]

I'd like to say that I have thoroughly enjoyed these stories, especially the last. Thanks all, definitely staying subscribed to this thread.

Sent from my SAMSUNG-SM-J120AZ using Tapatalk

[Winger Ed.]

I'd like to say that I have thoroughly enjoyed these stories, especially the last. Thanks all, definitely staying subscribed to this thread.

Thanks bro.
Speaking for myself--- that alone makes it more than worth while.

[MrWolf]

Thank you.

[samari46]

I'd like to thank all the vets who posted their stories. Some of them are truly funny. I probably have a few more in me. Frank

[Doughty]

Okay, I'll tell one. I was in Viet Nam in the summer of 1970. I had been in country a few months and was toting an M-60 in a rifle platoon. The 60 broke. No parts available and no spare guns available. It went like that for a week or so, me with a straight pull bolt action M-60. We weren't issued handguns at that time. When we got back to a firebase, I decided I needed to find a handgun on my own. I put out the word. Soon a friend who knew "a guy" showed up. "This guy" says he's got a gun, but it would only be good for "close range." He pulls out a little Italian made .25 ACP and 7 or 8 shells for it. So I want to test fire it. We go over to a place on the berm and put up a wooden ammo crate against it. At about 9 or 10 feet I take careful aim and fire. We don't see any hole in the crate or in the dirt of the berm. We're searching all over for the bullet when I think to look at the gun. There is the bullet, sticking about half way out of the muzzle. I hold the gun up for "the guy" to see. "The guy" says, quick as ever, "Well I said it was for close range." And no, I didn't buy it.

[Der Gebirgsjager]

I've got one or two good ones remaining, but have told them in the past on other threads. So, to keep this one going, I'll re-tell one and hope not to bore you.

As I mentioned in an earlier post, in the very early 1960s I was stationed at Ledward Barracks in Schweinfurt, Germany. It was the last modern kaserne built by the Nazis prior to WW II, and was previously called Adolf Hitler Kaserne. There were four 3-story barracks on either side of a HQ building, also 3 stories in height that was oriented between them like llll -- llll. Across from the HQ building was a 1-story PX, and behind that a large blacktop surfaced parade ground. Perhaps four times a year there would be a huge formation and parade in which the various units would pass in review as observed by Battalion and Division level brass. It was impressive, with lots of spit and shine, as there were about 2,000 troops on post. On the occasion of this incident the event coincided with an I.G. inspection, so all of the various vehicles were parked along the edges of the parade ground as well.

Some of the displayed vehicles were jeeps outfitted with SS-10 and SS-11 wire guided anti-tank missiles. I'll wager that there are very few members of the forum who know what they were or have ever seen one. They were something that the French developed, and which missiles they convinced NATO would be indispensable. They were fat, stubby missiles mounted on racks, 4 per jeep if I recall correctly, and attached by a thin, flexible wire to one of two large spools of wire also mounted on the rear of the jeep. When fired, the missiles departed forward over the jeep's windshield. They would periodically taken to one of several dedicated maneuver areas for practice firing, and I remember seeing a huge area that had been used for that purpose for a number of years, just totally strewn and clogged with wire remaining from the practice sessions. I still wonder if and by whom it was ever cleaned up. It was absolutely impossible to walk through the practice area. Also mounted on the jeep was a radio box near which the guy who fired the missiles sat with a headset on and from which device the missiles received electronic signals via the wire to direct them to the target. Normally, like most ordnance, they were painted OD, but when in garrison they were replaced with warheads that were painted bright blue.

Well, now that the scene has been set, on the occasion of this review and I.G. Inspection there were four of these jeeps with their blue missiles parked along the edge of the parade ground just behind the PX. Although the wires were supposed to be disconnected from the missiles, somehow one of them fired. Exactly how or why I never learned, but off it went, over the roof of the PX and through the window of one of the Deputy Battalion C.O.s (there were two battalions and support units stationed there, so two deputy C.O.s) on the 3rd floor of the HQ building, exited out a window on the opposite side of the building, and disappeared over heavily populated Schweifurt.

It wasn't long and the telephone started ringing. The expended missile eventually terminated its flight in one German citizen's garage. He called and said, "I thought the war was over!" The NCO in charge of the SS-10 missile section was a SFC (E-6), but a few days later was observed to be wearing PFC stripes. The remains of the missile were easy to locate-- they just followed the wire.

DG

[GOPHER SLAYER]

I was in the Navy during the Korean war but I never went there. After the service I wnt to work for the phone company. We went on strike in Oct of 63. We were out five months. I walked a picket line everyday with a man who had gone ashore in the invasion of Normandy. He said before they hit the beach there was the biggest fire works display he had ever seen. He made it ashore but was wounded three times in the fighting that followed. He said one day he fired his M1 so much he burned out the barrel. The Germans had a hand grenade they called panzerfaust. He said he and others were takeing cover in some trees when a German threw a grenade at them,, a piece of it hit his trigger finger. He had to shoot with the middle finger for quite a while afterward. His worst wound came when they were trying to advance thru some forrest. The Germans were fireing their 88MM into the tree tops so the shells would explode and shower the Americans with schrapnel. He caught a piece in his right shoulder. He was put in an ambulance and while the ambulance was diving away a shell cleared all the trees and blew the rear door of. You would think they would have sent him home but they didn't. After a short hospital stay he was back in the fray. I asked to see the wound so he pulled his shirt down and showed me a big scar running from his shoulder down his chest. He finished the war guarding a dairy in Czechoslovkia. I asked if I could see his medals. The next day he brought in a sackful including a purple heart with some oak leaf clusters. His name was Hank Fox and he lived to a ripe old age. He was from East Tn. A finer man never lived.

[Winger Ed.]

Speaking of missiles-
Back in the late 50's missiles, and electronics were just coming of age.

Heard this on the radio years ago when the show was talking about communication, and interpretation of different things.
A guy called in and told a story of something he'd witnessed.

At Ft. Bliss, near El Paso, Texas they had a bunch of missiles, for doing different things,
and a big school for the new generation ground based radar.

One day, about 20 of the radar units were training.
On another part of the base, they were test firing a missile with a concrete slug in place of the war head.
Neither knew what the other group was doing on different areas of the range.

As the missile went across, and above the part of the range where the radar units were looking up,
all the signals were combined and zapped its guidance system.
The missile went off course, and came down in the 'red light' district of Juarez, Mexico.

Plain and simple.... A US Army missile landing in the city of a foreign country is an act of war.

It wasn't interpreted that way.
The dust hadn't even settled when the Mayor of Juarez, Mexico was on the phone to the Commanding General of Ft. Bliss.

He was UPSET,,,, and telling the General,
'I don't know what problems your troops have had with the 'working girls', but I'll fix it.
Just don't shoot any more missiles'.

[Winger Ed.]

One of the guys on the old Marine forum from the late 90's told a couple of his sea stories from when he was in Viet Nam,
and his Platoon Commander was 'Lt. Rob.', President LBJ's son in law.

One of them was:
As a Christmas present, Lady Bird Johnson baked a bunch of cookies herself in the White House kitchen,
and sent them to him, 'for the troops'.

He handed them out to all his guys.
However; by the time they got to Viet Nam, they were so hard ya couldn't eat them.

But they didn't go to waste.
The troops used that green military issue duct tape,
and put them on the front of claymore mines when they went out at night to set up an ambush.

[Winger Ed.]

Another of his was when one of his buddies got a Monopoly game that Christmas.

One day, mama-san came into the base camp selling stuff.
She had real, American Cokes---- for $1. each.

One kid gave her a $20 in monopoly money, and told her it was the new 'script' that they were being paid with.
She took it, and gave him $19. back in regular US 'green backs'.

A couple hours later---- she's back...……..Madder than a captured Jap.

Lt. Rob called the Platoon out so mama-san could identify the perpetrator.... and get justice.

Between the guys moving around like the pea under the shell game, the Lt. not stopping them,
the guilty party hiding out somewhere, and since all Americans look alike---
she finally gave up and left, never to return.

[Winger Ed.]

When I was on Okinawa in a helicopter outfit, I brought with me a USN issue 'Explosive Handlers License' that I had to get
while in jets to be working on their ejection seats, and the explosive spreader guns for some of their parachutes.

I had to keep it current for the cartridges that could cut steel cargo winch cables in a emergency for the helos.
When it came time to draw several thousand rounds of .50cal ammo for door gunner qualifications-
I was the only one in the squadron with a license to handle and draw it from the armory.

My Officer in Charge, one of the pilots, who hung out in the shop a lot rather than being stuck in the Ready Room
had to sign the request for it, and other important things a NCO couldn't.

One day, in a rush, I grabbed him and said, "Here Lt., sign this".
As he did, he asked what it was. I told him I had to run, and would tell him later..... then promptly forgot about it.

A few days later:
The birds doing the gun runs would take off before the armory opened, so I drew all the ammo the afternoon before.
Our little shop was inside the hanger, and it was so tight in there, rotor blades hung over the ceiling if they weren't folded.
I had 20mm ammo cans of linked .50BMG packed & stacked everywhere.

My Lt. came in, sat around, tried to kick a couple out of the way to get comfortable,,, and asked, "What's all this"?
I told him, and he went all goofy.
'Do you know the storage requirements for this? I've gotten you out of a couple tights spots,
but you're going to jail over this one, and there's nothing I can do'...….. and so on, and so on.....

When he'd finally run out of steam, I told him,
"Sir, it's OK,,,,,,you signed for it,,,,,,,, but I'll put in a good word for ya with the Colonel".

All the blood ran out of his face,,,,, as he had a vision and saw his career evaporate...……...
Then he left, and didn't talk to me for about a week.

[Winger Ed.]

The coffee thread reminded me of the last time I made coffee back in 1978.
I've had about 3-4 cups my whole life, and none of them after about age 12.
Not only do I not drink it, but I'm not allowed to make it either.

While on the Marine One crew at Quantico,
all the NCOs & troopers took turns coming in early every morning and making it for a week at a time.
The morning brew was in this big giant urn that might have come off the back of a tanker truck.
It was big, and lasted until 10:30, when they fired up a second one next to it.

When it came around to my turn, I told the Maintenance Chief,
"Top, I don't drink coffee, and I don't think I should have to come in early and make it either".

This was a guy who had raised profanity to an art form.
To save about 2 pages of writing this story, I won't quote any of it.

It was basically, blah, blah blah, yeah you will.
"Top, I don't know how to make coffee".
So, he explained it: 'Take the lid off, take the basket out, fill the tank with water, fill the basket with coffee, and put it in.
Put the lid back on, and plug it in. How hard can that be?
For the actual quote, this would take more than a page of flowery profanity.

The pot got unplugged and left Friday afternoon.
I came in Monday morning and did just what he said.
I filled the tank back up the other 1/2 way, there was some oil looking something floating in there, but what the heck..
The basket had this gray and green hair growing on the grounds left from Friday,
but I poured in as much new grounds as would fit on top of it. And just like I was told--- I plugged it in.

It stunk so bad, you could smell it out in the street.
But the guys would interrupt with another 1/2 page of profanity complaining about it as they forced it down.

Then the Commanding Officer came into the office, and drew some in his favorite old Squadron souviner coffee cup.
Took a sip, and spit it out on the deck. Some even hit the trash can.
The first, and only time I ever heard him cuss, as he looked around and asked, "Who made this ****"?

The Maint. Chief looked at me with that 'I hope you like counting penguins at the South Pole' stare
and said, "Sgt. H.. did Sir".

This is why the Marine Corps doesn't just hand out Lt. Colonel collar insignias like a early chow pass:

The CO looked at me, then cast his gaze on the Maintenance Chief,
then looked around at the other Staff NCOs and Officers in the room,,,,,,, and said,

"Let me tell you people something. If anyone ever orders Sgt. H... to make coffee again, I will have you shot".

I guess its one of those things you'd had to have been there to afterwards see the humor in it.
Like my Lt. and the .50BMG ammo, I've been laughing about those 'moments in life' ever since.

[LUBEDUDE]

Great stories.

I not only hate coffee, I hate the smell as well. It makes me nauseous, thus I absolutely refuse to make it. Probably why I’m not married anymore.

[Winger Ed.]

I absolutely refuse to make it.

That dove tails in with my theory: 'What you do well, you will do often'.

[Der Gebirgsjager]

Do "sea stories" have to be humorous? I guess there's humor to be found in what follows, if you can imagine the look on the German father's face when he answered the door, and the dilemma the M.P.s who responded were faced with.

A few facts: Germany has some of the most beautiful young women on Earth, usually buxom blondes, and we'll let the description end there. It also has some, if not the best beer on Earth. The alcohol content is quite high--one German beer was usually considered the equal of three American beers. As for the German fathers of the 1960s, many of them had fought for the Reich in WW II, and were embittered by their defeat. They did not look kindly on their daughters dating G.I.s. And then, there's the M48 Tank, now a relic of the past. It's main gun (cannon) had a flash suppressor on the end of the muzzle which gave it a "T" appearance. In WW II the city of Schweinfurt was largely bombed level by the 8th Air Force because it was a ball bearing manufacturing center. It wasn't too effective, because the ball bearing production had been moved underground, but it resulted in a postwar urban renewal project. Many of the new neighborhoods didn't look too different from an American suburb, with paved streets, curbs, sidewalks, and paths leading to front doors.

Well, our Hero, a young enlisted G.I., had experienced rejection by a beautiful fraulien at the insistence of her father, who did not want his daughter dating a lowly Americanish Soldat. He brooded on the forbidden love over quite a few biers, and decided to take action. He fired up an M48 tank and drove it out the gate of the Armored Kaserne (really--who was going to stop him?) and three kilometers into Schweinfurt. He arrived at his ex-girlfriend's house and proceeded over the curb and up the path with the muzzle of the cannon a few feet from the door. He got out and knocked. The girl's father answered, and with a look of horror on his face slammed the door shut.

The tanker returned to the M48 and drove it forward, ramming the muzzle through the door of the house. He backed up, and the flash hider caught in the door and pulled it down. Then, somewhat inexplicably, the soldier buttoned up the hatches and waited for the inevitable arrival of the M.P.s. They weren't long in coming.

A standoff ensued, with the M.P.s demanding that the G.I. exit the tank and surrender; while the soldier told them to come in and get him. After about 2 1/2 hours of negotiations it came down to a demand by the soldier that he wanted to "go home". He was assured by the M.P.s. that this request would be honored, and when he exited the tank he was escorted to the stockade awaiting disposition of the matter. When we heard about the incident we all thought that he wouldn't be going home for quite awhile, but after about 6 months were surprised to hear that he had been shipped stateside with a General Discharge.

Ain't love grand?

[Winger Ed.]

Do "sea stories" have to be humorous?

Of course not.
I just started the thread to pass on stories from and about everyday GIs that we will never see in a history book.

And thank you for your contributions to it, and helping to make it so long lived, and as successful as it has become.
I am honored by them.

[MrWolf]

Thank you all for the stories. I look forward to them.

[samari46]

Coffee time in any of the engineering spaces I stood watches in was like a religious experience. When empty the the pot was washed with cold water, wiped down to remove any stuff still in the pot and basket. Fill it with fresh ground coffee and plug it in. No milk but we had either cow in the can or creamora. our CPO insisted he get a fresh pot every watch in the morning when he stopped in the engine room and woe betide the engine room messenger who didn't have a pot waiting for him. We did learn after awhile to put one or two salt tablets in each cup to take away the bitterness. Frank

[koehn,jim]

Not a sea story perhaps but did you hear about the guy that attacked the Hospital ship Mercy with a train. In san Pedro today a train conductor was sure the hospital ship was for some other reason and tried to run the locomotive into it. problem was the tracks didn't go that far and he only made it about 100-150 feet. He still had another 900 feet to go. True story.

[OldBearHair]

They wouldn't take me because of being the sole surviving son in the family and my faulty heart would not have allowed me to pass the physical. That said, I became an aircraft mechanic with Dynalectron Corp. and worked alongside Colonels, (actually at a distance), Master Sergeants and Enlisted men, helped with training recruits to do the job that Ike my work partner and I were doing at Harlingen AFB. Also did a tour in Thule Greenland with top security clearance. At Brookley AFB I was assigned to the parts department. Also assigned to make coffee. Well since I didn't drink coffee at the time, I was really the greenhorn type. I began the process by steel-wooling the aluminum 60 cup pot, making sure it was very "clean" and got the coffee ready for 9am break. Well, I never heard so much negative garbage in my life. Every one was unanimous saying it was the worst coffee ever tasted. Had to pour most of that batch down the sink. I sorta got stiffnecked and began to just dump more coffee on top of the old and not cleaning the pot. Even used some Louisianne coffee added in the mix. That became the norm. About three days of this I began to hear the guys begin to brag about how good it was. The pot was only rinsed with cold water after that. I was using a lot less coffee and the expense went down. It was habitual that everyone pitched in a few coins in the "can'' to pay for the coffee. The coffee fund began to grow to the point of excess and one individual that I may not mention his name or position used some of the money personally on his boat. When that got out to be known, we had a big meeting of the whole crew and remade a few rules. I never did use any more Brillo soap pads on coffee pots.

[WRideout]

I once met an old WWII navy vet when I worked in the hospital. He said that in the Pacific, when they were on shore, they had beer, but no ice or refrigeration. The would bury the beer in the sand on the beach then pour gasoline over it, and light it off. He said the beer would be sweaty cold when they dug it up.

Wayne

[Winger Ed.]

Sometimes, the hardest thing you had to do in the Service was to keep a straight face
when you saw or heard something that would make a dog laugh.

When I was in jets, our Flight Equipment shop had the parts & such to repair and work on all the pilots flight gear,
but we didn't have replacements for it. A new helmet or 'G' suit had to be ordered for them from Supply.

Our shop was an old WWII era unit of Base Housing. All the walls were removed, but we still had the bathroom.

One day a pilot came in who had yaked in his Oxygen mask.
He thought he'd come in and get a new one. Big surprise!!

My boss told him how the system worked, it would take 2-3 weeks for a new one to come in,
and he just needed to clean it. Then came, "I'm not doing that. I don't know how'... etc.

My boss told him he'd take care of it. He took the mask, and went into the bathroom.
You could hear the sink running, and I pretended not to hear the commode flush a couple times.

I don't know what really went on in there, but the pilot took it and left- never to return,
and we never spoke of that again.

[samari46]

On our Westpac cruise supply ship comes alomg side and starts sending food and what ever we need. That ship's band is playing tunes. just as we do the breakaway a cloud of potatoes comes heading towards the ship. Looks like the band was the prime target. Guys running everywhere. Ships master of arms and his crew running around trying to find the potatoe throwrers and the old man is really ticked off. Week later another ship shows up and we take on supplies. After they are done here comes the spuds and there goes the master at arms trying to find the guilty parties. next ship arrives same with the supplies and here come the spuds. zexcept now its the marine detachment chasing down the potatoe throwers. By hook or crook they caught a couple. two weeks bread and water. capt was laughing at the court martial. Frank

[Winger Ed.]

There's something about sailors..... Old Marines never get tired of teasing them.

Years ago, a buddy retired from the Marine Corps and went to work for the company building new Navy submarines.
A great sport for him was to put a few of those round, gold foil USMC stickers inside the subs. as they were being built.
They went in places where if you removed panels or got into tight spaces working on something-
you could see one, but not quite reach it to remove it.

Even then, it had been sliced so many times, you could only get one tiny piece of it at a time.
The boats that had the SEAL stuff got a few extras in their compartments.
Once somebody found one, they'd often figure out there was more onboard and search them out like a Easter Egg hunt.

[Winger Ed.]

At Quantico, my room mate from overseas worked down the road a little ways getting the Marine Corps Air Museum
up and running. Now its in the big fancy building near the front gate. Back then, it was in the old warehouses by OCS.

I'd go hang out during a lunch hour, or get by when we didn't have anything going on.
The guy who more or less ran it was a retired MSGT Parachute Rigger that they asked to come back for the museum.

We'd talk about the new & old versions of our MOS.
One time he asked if us kids still made stuff for 'other than the govt's' needs, and how much we got paid for it.
I told him I made odds & ends-- watch bands, TL-29 knief scabbards, put on chevrons, etc.,
if the shop was caught up, but never charged more than a Coke for any of it.
Then I asked about him doing it in the old days.

It was a hoot to hear him tell the story.
In the 1940's, you never saw women in uniform much out side of Wash. DC---- except nurses.

The Supply system wasn't set up for them getting uniforms & such either outside of Wash. DC.

Back then, parachutes really were made of silk.
Like today, when one is used once for a bail out by an aircrewman,
since it isn't as thick and 'heavy duty' like the ones para-troopers use, its never repacked and used again.
During WWII, in the Pacific, it was rare to get a aircrew escape type one back that had been jumped.

But he got his hands on one or two while he was stationed on a Aircraft Carrier, or shore based..
With a slightly used- 25' diameter silk parachute, a sewing machine in the shop, and nurses not being able to shop for clothes:

With almost no advertising or marketing skills:
He became the go-to guy for custom made women's underwear.

[Scrounge]

...He said "A flame thrower". He was clearly agitated by my questions and I never asked again.

One of my dad's friends, much older than dad, told me some stories about his trip to Iwo Jima as a young Marine. I only remember two parts of the story. Earl was running up the beach with an airweight .50 call machine gun in his hands when a japanese soldier with a samurai sword popped out of a foxhole and slashed at him with the sword. He blocked with the gun, and the sword took most of the barrel off it, and the head off the guy carrying the ammo to his left, then slashed back and killed the guy with the tripod on the right. He said it took 7 rounds from a 45 auto to put him down. After the majority of the battle was over, he spent the rest of his time there with a flame thrower hosing down caves and holes. He said there was a lot of screaming. We hunted together, and he said I never saw a monster elk that walked across in front of me. He suggested I not go into combat arms, as I'd probably get my whole squad killed. He still called them Japs, and hated them in the early 70's. So I enlisted in the Air Force. Besides, Reader's Digest had some life in the armed services stories that made it seem a good deal. For example: in the Air Force, enlisted guys stay on base, and we send the officers out to fight. Also, if you must retreat, you can do it at 600mph. It wasn't really that simple, but it sounded good. I did attend Desert Storm, as an REMF. My unit ran the air war. We told the pilots where to go, and who to shoot when they got there. The only things we really had to worry about was traffic in Riyadh, Scud-B missiles, and the Saudi guard who went nuts one and started shooting at shadows one night.

[Winger Ed.]

One of my dad's friends, much older than dad, told me some stories about his trip to Iwo Jima as a young Marine.

Thanks for contributing to this thread, and everyone else that has helped make it what it has become.

I've known a few guys that carried a rifle in the Pacific.
Some of their stories are beyond horrific.
Especially the ones they'd carried for 40 or 50 years before telling them.

One guy talked of that Japanese soldier 'fighting to the last man or bullet' nonsense.

On the subject he said, sure, plenty of them wanted to surrender.
But as they'd come out of a cave- the last one or two would throw a grenade at you.
After a couple of go arounds with that, we didn't mess with taking prisoners.

[Winger Ed.]

One old soldier did tell a story of one Jap. being taken prisoner.
He was on one of the islands in the Pacific, and part of the forces left there after it was taken.
They'd dig out a surviving Japanese soldier here and there, but the heavy fighting was over.

A couple of weeks later, there was a big commotion over at their Mess tent.
A mostly starved Jap soldier was so hungry, he'd taken the uniform off a dead GI, and got in the chow line.

Most of the Japanese military personel didn't make it back home, but he did.

[Nazgul]

My father in law was a SGT in the Army on a rifle range in Texas when Pearl Harbor was attacked. They packed his unit up and sent them to the Aleutian Islands. We were having breakfast on day, we were alone, when he started to talk. 3 hours I listened. Stories of not having cold weather gear, dodging Zeroes strafing the beach and snipers. The most moving memory was mining a bridge used by the Japs and waiting for truck loads of soldiers to cross, he said he could still see them falling into the river. They lost several to freezing in white out conditions.

Don
SGT USMC

[Winger Ed.]

I've seen the Japanese invasion and landing mentioned briefly in history books.
Being way up there where the Aleutians are, I'd always thought they were unopposed, and after awhile, they just left.

Some documentary film about sea lions or something was made there not too many years ago,
and showed that all the trash the Japanese left behind is still there laying around on the ground.

[Catshooter]

Yes they were most definitely opposed Winger. That was were my dad saw his first action. He said it was damn hard to hit the Zeros with the Lewis guns they had.

He changed ships and was given a quad-50 as a combat station. He thought he'd died and gone heaven!

He did get one Zero with the .50 and two or three German fighters with the 20mm Oerlikon they used aboard Liberty ships.


Cat

[Winger Ed.]

Thanks for posting that.
Most people would never think there was much going on up there, after all--- it's Alaska.
But now thinking about the story of building the Alaska Hi-Way, there had to be something important happening to make it worth while.

[Catshooter]

You're welcome. Dad said it was horrible up there as all their equipment was second or third rate. They fought hard and plenty died.

Alaska was very important to the Japanese as it was a toe hold onto North America. If they had gotten a base set up it would have been bad for us in a big, big way.


Cat

[Der Gebirgsjager]

Googling and reading up on the Aleutian Campaign can be fascinating for military history buffs. The Japanese didn't really want the real estate, as it's some of the most inhospitable environment in the world. It was a diversionary campaign meant to draw away some of our forces while they grabbed resources in the South Pacific. They withdrew from one of the two islands they seized, and most of the garrison of the second island committed suicide in their caves and bunkers when it became apparent that they would be defeated and couldn't withdraw. It would be a real adventure to go there and search for Arisakas and Nambus, but access is forbidden by the US military which has a weather station there and claims danger exists from unexploded ordnance and booby traps. I have a friend, now age 93, who served there during the battle in the Army Air Force. He says that the weather was just terrible and it was almost impossible to take off in a plane for bombing runs as they kept sliding off the icy runway before they could get up enough speed to become airborne.

[Winger Ed.]

Awhile back we were talking about gun cleaning. It just dawned on me:
The Grunt orientated Armory guys at Quantico had a real racket going.

You think the final rifle inspection at boot camp was tough?
That was amateur night compared to being a NCO in the Air Wing trying to turn a rifle back in after shooting it.

We had to go to the Armory once a month to clean our rifle.
No big deal. Being stored in a climate controlled Armory isn't very hard on them.
However; When you went to the range every year to requalify, it was an ordeal to turn in your rifle.

You'd clean and scrub, etc. but for a Sgt or above--- it was never clean enough.
You'd hand it back, they'd look at it,,,, when they handed it back,,, you'd hear-
"Carbon in the gas block", "excess oil", "To dry", "Dirt in the locking lugs", and on and on.

I even took the bolt into the hanger and ran it through the sonic cleaner- but it was never good enough.
I'd turn it back in, it'd get rejected, and the guy at the Armory would always tell me, "We'll do it for $5."

It took a few trips back & forth to the cleaning station to figure it out...…
But after I wised up, and paid up,,,,

The next time after I'd used it at the range, then later I drew it out to clean it for the month--
it was done right, and would pass any 'normal' rifle inspection.

I asked a couple of Staff NCO's and Officers if they had the same problem.
They all said, "Yeah. After the first go-around with those Grunts--I just give 'em the 5 bucks".

Then it made sense.
That's why you could see rifles in there with a 5 dollar bill folded and stuck through the flash suppressor.

[Der Gebirgsjager]

That tale brings to mind my Basic Training at Ft. Ord, CA, in 1961. We were issued M1 rifles, mostly of WW II vintage. I was raised in the Sierra Nevada foothills and did a lot of deer hunting, and prided myself on my marksmanship. I thought I was certain to shoot Expert, but sight and squeeze as I might, the best I could do was high Sharpshooter. We went to the range often, and on the final trip after having shot for record I found a .30 cal. FMJ bullet lying in the sand. It didn't even have rifling marks on it. Out of curiosity I opened the bolt and dropped in the bullet. It rattled down the bore and fell out of the muzzle back into the sand. I approached the Train Fire NCO and demonstrated this discovery for him, and opined that the bore of my rifle was shot out. He said not to worry about it as the rifles had been used by every Basic Training Company since WW II, and I'd likely get a much better rifle and have to re-qualify upon reaching my assigned unit. This turned out to be true. Upon arrival I was issued an M1 of Korean War vintage in almost new condition, and easily fired Expert.

At the completion of Basic the Company was assembled on the front lawn of the barracks where there were several tubs containing cleaning solvent. These were 55 gal. drums cut off to about 1/3 height. Everyone was instructed to field strip their rifles, retain the barrel receivers with hand guards, and dump the other various component parts into various tubs, bolts in this one, springs in that one, op rods in that one over there, etc. Everyone was given a cleaning rod, patches, a rag, a toothbrush, and instructed to clean their rifles and turn them into the arms room following a very thorough inspection by a couple of NCOs. Very few made it through the first inspection. The point of this is that as the rifles were reassembled each soldier obtained the necessary part from the appropriate tub of solvent and cleaned it and reassembled it into his rifle. Therefore, the rifles didn't contain the same parts training cycle after training cycle. This is part of the reason that collectors of US Military weapons seldom, rarely, almost never find a rifle containing all the parts by the same manufacturer as they left the arsenal, such as a 100% Winchester M1. Additionally, there are photos of field level ordnance repair operations of stacks of parts of battlefield recovered rifles and parts, and a G.I. Ordnance man sitting in the middle of the jungle reassembling them and making them serviceable again.

[Winger Ed.]

and I'd likely get a much better rifle and have to re-qualify upon reaching my assigned unit..

Wow.
They were real serious with weapons for us.
My rifle in boot camp had 5-6 names on its custody card above mine.
It got an Armor's inspection before we fired them, and if there was any issue- it got fixed or you got another one.

We had a couple of spazo kids that could hardly hit the ground.
A rifle coach would take their weapon, fire at the 200 yard line target- off hand.
Every time it was in the black, they'd hand it back and tell 'em, "The rifle is fine".

I was among the last few Platoons at Parris Island that trained with the M-14.
They were just rack grade, but if you didn't fire Expert with them, it was on you.

I missed Expert by one point myself.

[Der Gebirgsjager]

Well, as we used to say in the OLD Army, "You must have been my replacement." In 1962 we got a new TO&E (Table of Ordnance and Equipment). The M1 was replaced by the M14, the BAR by a select fire M14, the .30 Browning machine gun by the M60, etc. The only thing that was supposed to go away but refused to die was the 1911. Grease guns and M1 carbines also disappeared, but they were seldom seen anyway before the change. We were issued brand new M14s right out of the wooden crates, and they shot well enough that I got to go TDY on the Battalion Rifle Team for a month the next two summers. They were truly beautiful weapons. Originally they had nice wooden hand guards like the M1, but on live fire exercises they tended to char, smoke, and sometimes actually catch fire, so they were traded in for ventilated fiberglass models. Later, in Viet Nam I guess, they went to a solid fiberglass version which I believe was a USMC innovation. I really loved that rifle, and couldn't believe it when it was swapped for the M16. After getting out of the service, like most G.I.s I wanted a rifle like I had in the service, but because they were select fire it was years before semi-auto only versions became available. Eventually I acquired two of them. :-D But, kind of like your first love, I've always liked the M1 a bit better and have several of those also. My last M1 project before changing current interests was to acquire a high serial number H&R receiver and build it up into a complete rifle. I stocked it with some semi-fancy walnut and did the barrel/chamber job myself, but took no pains to get all H&R parts. Ahhh.....days past....now everything is aluminum and plastic!

Some eye candy for you. Not the H&R M1.

263550

[Winger Ed.]

After getting out of the service, like most G.I.s I wanted a rifle like I had in the service,

Me too. I have a emotional attachment to the M-14.
A few years after I got out the Springfield M1As were on the street,
with the new, Garand style receiver, but built from surplus/new M-14 barrel and trigger groups.

Sometimes I wonder if the M1A receiver was developed before the M-14 one,
and the govt. just bought the select fire version. Otherwise, they should have called it the M-14A.

The vented hand guard went away because the Marines broke them all.

I snagged a couple fiberglass stocks and a wood, Army issue, 'Big Red' when Fred's was going strong.
Fred's used to sell a block to glue into the selector switch notch to make the fiberglass stocks look right when you refinished one.

The Big Red looks good with the M-60 bi-pod too.

[fiberoptik]

In Marine basic in ‘82 we were given 1911’s to fire. In the afternoon you could follow the bullet in the right lighting. I saw mine hit the target [emoji457] left of me. I then aimed at the one right of me. 2 guys down from me a recruit fired his and the whole slide went flying off behind him. Targets hadn’t been changed in ages. Looked like they were used on the machine gun range. Probably leftovers from the 1st world war!
I qualified expert all 7 times. Shot a 242 out of 245 during the beginning of a typhoon in Okinawa in 70 mph winds. I was also the only recruit to properly field strip the M16 before we were taught how!
Another time we were practicing for qualifying day and I was just wasting time and rounds. Sniper coach says my sights were off. I told him to go blow. He was insistent. I was on the 500 yard line. Up ahead on the 200 yard line a chipmunk [emoji883] stands up. I said to him,”See the chipmunk [emoji883]?” Yeah? Headshot [emoji457]! He says,”Your sights are fine!”
Another time we were on the machine gun range at Camp Horno. A couple of illegals where trying to circumvent the border patrol stop [emoji1630] on the freeway by way of the base. Big mistake! We ran them up behind a big boulder with our M60’s. They sure were happy when the MP’s arrived to arrest them!

Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk

[Winger Ed.]

In Marine basic in ‘82 we were given 1911’s to fire.

In '73, we didn't fire .45s at Parris Island.
Later on, in '79, at Quantico I had to qualify with one after I made SSGT.
I was talking to the range NCO, as I shook one and it sounded like a coffee can with a few nuts & bolts in it.
He told me the Marine Corps hadn't bought a new 1911 since the closing days of WWII.

[fiberoptik]

A coffee ☕️ story.
Was barracks sergeant for 2 years. I got us an either 30/60 cup percolator. I made a fresh batch every Monday morning. Rest of the week we just plugged it back in. Someone once suggested that I should take out the coffee grounds. I answered “why?” Monday I would heat it for the last cup. It was kinda thick!


Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk

[fiberoptik]

In '73, we didn't fire .45s at Parris Island.
Later on, in '79, at Quantico I had to qualify with one after I made SSGT.
I was talking to the range NCO, as I shook one and it sounded like a coffee can with a few nuts & bolts in it.
He told me the Marine Corps hadn't bought a new 1911 since the closing days of WWII.

I believe it! (Hollywood Marine!)


Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk

[Der Gebirgsjager]

I got my first 1911 when I was 16 yr. old, about 1958, courtesy of my dad who also gave me a 2 lb. coffee can full of mixed surplus ammo, some of it with 1918 head stamps, some brass cases, some steel cases. Most of that ammo is long gone-- I used it learning how to shoot the pistol. So in Basic Training I already knew how to disassemble one and put it back together. I really wanted to have one as an issue weapon, but my MOS just didn't call for one, and try as I might I couldn't get one. The machine gunner and assistant gunner had them, the Platoon Leaders (2nd Lt.s) had them, the C.O. and X.O. had them, the 1st Sgt. had one, and one Platoon Sgt. who shot on a pistol team had one.....but I didn't! Most of ours probably came over with the Army in WW II and had been there ever since. They retained very little finish and would develop surface rust fairly easily out in the rain and snow. One of the machine gunners, a Cuban, showed me a neat trick. He used the plastic wrapper from a PRC-10 radio battery to wrap his 1911 in when out on maneuvers and it didn't rust up. I really felt the need for a pistol, and since Uncle wouldn't loan me one I was able to buy a VOPO parts Luger from the Rod & Gun Club for $28 and a Spreewerk P-38 from another NCO who was returning Stateside. But....no 1911! A very fine pistol....

263560

Well, the Cuban fellow, one of several in that platoon, was said by one of his compadres to have gotten roaringly inebriated on New Year's Eve and to have fired off his 1911 in the barracks using a .30-06 round pilfered from a live fire exercise. His buddy explained to me that he had disassembled the pistol, inserted the round into the barrel, and reassembled it, then fired it. I had my doubts, but later in life decided to see if a .30-06 would fit into a 1911 barrel. The results were inconclusive, but not completely prohibitive. Below is a photo of the experiment. I had a parts drawer full of barrels in various levels of wear that I'd replaced, and as you can see one almost went in. You would wonder about the pressure involved, but considering that it would be a .30 cal. round going through a .45 cal. bore, and that the length of the cartridge would bring it close to the muzzle with lots of surrounding space for the gas to escape, I just can not positively say the story wasn't true.

263561

[samari46]

The story about the ship that had all the booze on board is true. Seems I remember watching a movie and that island couldn't get any more booze. So someone remembered that there was cases of the stuff on the half sunk ship. So they went out to the ship and liberated a bunch of it and was hidden all over the island. The authorities learned about it and were continually searching for it. Darn funny movie. Frank

[Winger Ed.]

I just can not positively say the story wasn't true.

If you could tap it down to look like a normally chambered .45ACP-
Yeah, it'd fire. A well worn GI barrel should let it right in.

Browning's original method of making his test & research ammo when he invented and developed the .45 ACP
was to cut down readily available .30-06 cases.

Same sort of concept as you had to do to make ammo for one of the 70's era .45 handgun wildcats.
The gas operated .45 Wildley if I recall, but that may not be right.

When it was new, one of the big complaints was you had to make your own cases by chopping down
.243, .30-06, .308, .270, etc or other cases based on the .30-06 and ream them out to be thinner walled.

There's a youtube video of a guy firing a .50BMG in a break open 12 ga shotgun stuck down in the mud.
You'd think it would explode, but it was no big deal after he'd fired it.

[Winger Ed.]

I was watching some news from the Middle East about oil production and what's going on with it now.
It reminded me of talking to a Parachute Rigger vet from the early days of the fighting over there.

Military aviation is constantly training everybody- it never stops.
One thing for the air crews is survival training for whatever they are going over.
Survival in the jungle, open water, cold country-- what ever.

I asked this guy what they taught the crews for surviving after going down or ejecting over the desert.
He said it was the normal stuff, and if they went down over friendly territory, it wasn't a problem.

They told the crews to eject, or land as close to a oil pipeline as possible.
Then start walking along it until they came to one of the big cut off valves.

Crank it shut, sit down, and wait about a hour or so.
Someone one would be headed right there and pick them up.

[samari46]

Sailors messing with the marines. You know how the rail is manned when a ship is coming into port?. Well they'd get a bunch of sailors and marines and you had to stand about 4' apart while the ship was coming into port. Someone would yell "Marines dismissed" so naturally they would break formation and the gunnery sergent would go ballistic yelling and screaming at the marines to return to their formation. This goes on for a few months until someone got an idea. Every other sailor was replaced by a marine. Obviously they were trying to find the wise guy. It kinda sorts stopped for awhile but when the marines resumed their customary manning the rail positions it started all over again. We used to borrow the marines honest to gosh steam press to do our uniforms especially for inspection or liberty. One day the gunnery sergent told us that we could no longer be using it again.So 15 minutes the press was down because someone has shut off the steam to the press. So word goes out that the culpret should turn the steam back on or go see the man. This lasted about another 12 hours. there were about 20 of us who knew where the shutoff valve was located. All we knew was that the steam was back on. Frank

[waksupi]

I was watching some news from the Middle East about oil production and what's going on with it now.
It reminded me of talking to a Parachute Rigger vet from the early days of the fighting over there.

Military aviation is constantly training everybody- it never stops.
One thing for the air crews is survival training for whatever they are going over.
Survival in the jungle, open water, cold country-- what ever.

I asked this guy what they taught the crews for surviving after going down or ejecting over the desert.
He said it was the normal stuff, and if they went down over friendly territory, it wasn't a problem.

They told the crews to eject, or land as close to a oil pipeline as possible.
Then start walking along it until they came to one of the big cut off valves.

Crank it shut, sit down, and wait about a hour or so.
Someone one would be headed right there and pick them up.

A similar tactic works here in Montana if you get in trouble over on the east side. Find a missile silo, toss a rock over the wire, and you have company in a short time. Lots and lots of company.

[Winger Ed.]

I had to come back to this after bakerjw's post about Marine One as the President is out campaigning.
My service was all in peace time and my stories aren't nearly as cool as most others from different times.
This one is about some brand new graduates of the Marine Security Guard school at Quantico, and being part of the brotherhood.
This is the school that trains Marines for Embassy Duty at the American embassies all over the planet.

Their school is on a hill that over looks the end of the HMX-1 runway,
Its also the best seat in the house to watch helicopters come in over the Potomac on final approach to land.
I used to ride back and forth in front of the school every day going back & forth to work in the HMX-1 maintenance & security hanger,
that everyone called 'the cage', where part of the Marine One fleet is based.

My Mom came to visit once for a couple days on her way to New York, then on to Russia for a nurses exchange/tour sort of deal.

On the 7-ish hour flight out of NYC to Paris, there was several Marines fresh out of MSG school, that she struck up a conversation with.
She said she'd just visited me, and told of her visit:

"My son is assigned to HMX-1, do you know what that is"?
"Yes Ma'am, we're all familiar with it".
"I got a tour of the hanger, I got to go in Marine One, sit in the President's chair,,,, and then go up and sit in the 'driver's' seat".
"His boss (our Maintenance Chief) gave the tour, and a armed guard was never more than 10 feet away.
That guy had more stripes on his arm than a tiger".

"My son gave me a ride on his big red Yamaha motorcycle. As we went around on the base, he showed me your school too".
"Yes ma'am, we're familiar with it, he comes by almost every day".

Anyway:
Mom never drank anything other than coffee, water, or orange juice since I could remember.
On the flight, as the stewardess came by, she got a orange juice.
A little while later, the stewardess came by again. Mom asked for another carton thing of orange juice.
She was told, "I'm sorry ma'am, but passengers are only allowed one".

After that-- every single Marine on the plane asked for an orange juice, until the drink cart ran out, then got up & brought it to her.

No special heroics involved or anything, but I always thought that was pretty cool, and a high light of Mom's trip to Europe.

[Catshooter]

Nice work Marines!



Cat

[Land Owner]

For me, the "Guard" changed its uniforms and insignia to make us look like a Bus Driver's convention, returning to work for the Federal Department of Transportation rather than the years of service under the Secretary of Defense at the culmination of the Vietnam "conflict". Our Ice Breaker was reassigned from private mooring across from Howard Hughes' Spruce Goose Hangar and USNS Hughes Glomar Explorer in Long Beach, to the Navy Base in Los Angeles.

Marines, as Gate Guards, suddenly had Hooligans coming and going with "metallic insignia" of rate on their collars for Enlisted, the New Guard "look", as was previously reserved only for Officers. It was gratifying, though not deserved, to be saluted by the Marines on every entry and exit from the LA Naval Base.

[MUSTANG]

For me, the "Guard" changed its uniforms and insignia to make us look like a Bus Driver's convention, returning to work for the Federal Department of Transportation rather than the years of service under the Secretary of Defense at the culmination of the Vietnam "conflict". Our Ice Breaker was reassigned from private mooring across from Howard Hughes' Spruce Goose Hangar and USNS Hughes Glomar Explorer in Long Beach, to the Navy Base in Los Angeles.

Marines, as Gate Guards, suddenly had Hooligans coming and going with "metallic insignia" of rate on their collars for Enlisted, the New Guard "look", as was previously reserved only for Officers. It was gratifying, though not deserved, to be saluted by the Marines on every entry and exit from the LA Naval Base.


As a young Marine going to a Technical School at an Army Base; I too (as well as several hundred other young Marines) were subjected to the embarrassment of our 1st sightings PRIVATE soldiers in Charlies and Alphas loose in their Wild Environment. We would be walking in an area; and in the distance a soldier would be coming our direction with the sun flashing off of shiny gee-gaws all over them, decorative ropes hanging all over them, and lots of stuff on their collars and epaulets - Oh my Gosh; it must be a CHILD GENERAL was a common thought. Nope; once they were near enough to be seen better, we would discern that it was nothing more than a slick sleeved Private, Pay Grade E-1 who had never been anywhere and had done nothing.

A parallel to this was the Army "NEW 2nd LIEUTENANT". He would appear in the distance every morning as the Marine Training Company would be marching to the "School Houses". We had a couple of "OLD" corporals and Sergeants who had "Been To See the Elephant" as was said in days of old. After a couple of days of being stopped by the Army 2nd Lt. and dressed down for some perceived slight for insufficient enthusiasm of salute; or an on the spot Officer correction of "Drill" as conducted by the NCO's; these "Old Corps" NCO's (After all they were all of 22 or 23!!) had enough. Next morning as the Company is headed towards the "School House"; the NCO's set into place their devious plan for "Monkey Drill". The 2nd Lt is spotted down the road. The Company is halted and the command was given "Column of files from the right, 10 pace Interval between Individuals; MARCH". A column of over 120 Marines with 10 paces between each Marine Passed by the 2nd Lt. Each giving a salute - and the 2nd Lt required to return that salute. The 2nd Lt was never seen again from that day forward.

[Winger Ed.]

A column of over 120 Marines with 10 paces between each Marine Passed by the 2nd Lt. Each giving a salute - and the 2nd Lt required to return that salute. The 2nd Lt was never seen again from that day forward.

There is a similar story in Gen. Puller's biography.
A 2nd Lt. was passing a young trooper, and wasn't satisfied with his salute.
After the usual Grunt, blah, blah, blah... He ordered the trooper to salute him 100 times.

Gen. Puller was looking out his office window, seeing this, he went out and asked the 2nd Lt. what was going on.
The 2nd Lt. told him. Gen. Puller simply said, "An Officer will return each and every salute he is rendered".

Then he went back to his office, leaving the two out on the street saluting each other.......

[Burnt Fingers]

I have to say that there's a lot of "sea stories" here about things that could never have happened.

[MUSTANG]

I have to say that there's a lot of "sea stories" here about things that could never have happened.

Such as? In my stories; what makes them funny and memorable is that they actually happened to me.

[Der Gebirgsjager]

Well. post #202 stretches credulity a bit, but I believe about 95% of the remaining "sea stories". But Catshooter, let's be nice....!

[Catshooter]

Nope, not gonna be nice to someone who calls a bunch of men who have signed a check for "up to and including my life" made out to their country liars. Not gonna do it.


Cat

[samari46]

I worked in a tank farm and were required to notify the Coast Guard whenever there was an oil spill in the water. Tanker had dumped their scrubbers into the east river in NYC. Since the regulations begin with "causing a sheen or discoloration in the navigable waters". They got notified,and we put out booms to contain the spill. Coast Guard shows up and has a 45 auto in a holster so we show them the ship with the boom deployed and they go on board to question the captain. Well we took samples and some were given to the CG on their boat. Anyway started talking to one of the CG sailors about his 45. Told him that the pistol he was carrying was older than he was. Since the gov't stopped getting them shortly after WWII. Sure probably more were made for Korea but just likely they were overhauled or rebuilt. Frank

[Land Owner]

Best CG story I know:

It is a Coast Guard requirement (with emphasis) that its recruits are AT LEAST 6' 0" tall...


+


+


...so they can wade to shore if their boat goes down.



I am qualified to harass my fellow Hooligans in this manner, as a deep water Ice Breaker Sailor from the Arctic to the Antarctic and all points in the Pacific Ocean in between - twice.

[Der Gebirgsjager]

I have to say that there's a lot of "sea stories" here about things that could never have happened.


Nope, not gonna be nice to someone who calls a bunch of men who have signed a check for "up to and including my life" made out to their country liars. Not gonna do it.


Cat

Gentlemen-- It's time for a reality check here. Neither maligning of members nor hostilities is called for. "Sea stories" were traditionally "Tall tales", in large part made up by old time sailors to entertain the naïve landlubbers around the fireplace on long winter evenings. There are very few real sea stories in this thread, and it possibly should have been entitled, "Unusual Military Experiences." A good example of the original meaning of sea stories is in post #202 by fibreoptik. Just enough factual content to lure an inexperienced person in to swallow the big improbability. Surely you don't believe that illegal aliens were being shot at with M-60s down on the border? That is a sea story. I know that everything I put in this thread is true and from actual experience, 1st hand knowledge--and I'm pretty certain 95% of the other posts are factual as well. Let's not turn a source of entertainment into one of bad feelings. Another Mod has removed one offensive post. No more, please.

[Burnt Fingers]

Gentlemen-- It's time for a reality check here. Neither maligning of members nor hostilities is called for. "Sea stories" were traditionally "Tall tales", in large part made up by old time sailors to entertain the naïve landlubbers around the fireplace on long winter evenings. There are very few real sea stories in this thread, and it possibly should have been entitled, "Unusual Military Experiences." A good example of the original meaning of sea stories is in post #202 by fibreoptik. Just enough factual content to lure an inexperienced person in to swallow the big improbability. Surely you don't believe that illegal aliens were being shot at with M-60s down on the border? That is a sea story. I know that everything I put in this thread is true and from actual experience, 1st hand knowledge--and I'm pretty certain 95% of the other posts are factual as well. Let's not turn a source of entertainment into one of bad feelings. Another Mod has removed one offensive post. No more, please.

How about a sword cutting the barrel off a 50 cal? That one is stretching the truth just a bit.

[Der Gebirgsjager]

Isn't that exactly my point? You apparently are able to distinguish fact from fiction. Do you, for some reason, find the story insulting? Sometimes one has to sort through the oysters to find the pearls.

[Catshooter]

How about a sword cutting the barrel off a 50 cal? That one is stretching the truth just a bit.

Burnt Fingers,

Now see, if you had phrased your other post like that I would have been fine with it. These are, after all, "Sea Stories" and everyone knows how stories can grow with the telling. We're only human after all.


Cat

[Der Gebirgsjager]

An excellent reply, Cat. At least someone is listening.

[MUSTANG]

Sometimes the Truth in the rear view mirror can be seen as incredulous and as a "Tall Tale" similar to Paul Bunyon and Babe the Blue Ox; but strangely enough "The Story is True" with no exaggeration. For example the following actually occurred as participated in by Myself:


Setting the stage:

In days of Old (as defined by those of us who are still alive, graying of the hair and beard) the Marine Corps had very few Women Marines. They were administrative clerks and in some limited technical fields. They reported locally to their command for daily duties and administratively to the WM (Woman Marine) Colonel in charge of WM issues at HQMC. They were only assigned to Major Marine Bases (No ship board service back then for Women), a legacy of the WW-I era slogan "Free a Man to Fight". There were less than 1200 WM's in the entire Marine Corps back then. They had their own Barracks for Women Only; enclosed by Chain Link fencing and Barbed Wire on the top, No Males allow inside except for maintenance issues with controlled access; and an armed Marine guard (or two or three) patrolling outside the fence line after hours until early morning. Often times more security on the WM Barracks than there was on the Armories.

Soon after being promoted to Sergeant I was detailed for the month as "Sergeant of the Guard". Since I had pulled a 30 day guard duty assignment not 3 months before it was a bitter sweet assignment (Being SOG was "Status"; but kiss liberty good bye for 30 days when assigned to Guard Duty). So about 2 weeks into the tour as "Sergeant of the Guard"; about 0200 (2:00AM) we got a radio call from the Corporal of the Guard who was out inspecting guard posts. He was very agitated over the radio saying " He's got a knife!! He's holding her hostage!!. I got on the radio and said "Say Again". The Cpl of the Guard responds "He has a Knife and is holding a Female Marine Hostage. He says he will cut her if we come any closer !!. Over the Radio I calmly but loudly stated: " Corporal. I want you to pull your .45, rack the slide and chamber a round; aim at his head and if he does not put the knife down I want you to put a round in his Brain Pan !!" The corporal of the Guard came back on the Radio a couple of seconds later yelling "He dropped the Knife - He dropped the Knife". MP's were called and the "From Off Base Civilian Puke" was taken by the MP's who then turned him over to the Police Off Base. Turns out he was a two time looser the Corps did not want to deal with (a. Deserter from Military (not USMC) and b. An escapee from jail).

So next morning 1st Sergeant comes in to review the Guard as was the custom every day, Tells me to go see the Sergeant Major, and has me hand over the Guard to another Sergeant. The Sgt Maj read me the riot act of how if the Corporal of the Guard had shot the "Scum Bag" or the WM had been hit there would have been "H$$$ to Pay".

After being dressed down for about 5 minutes the Sgt Maj told me that I was relieved from Guard Duty, restricted to base for the next 24 hours, and that I had better be in the NCO Club when it opened that evening. So I went back to the barracks, got some sleep (not much sleeping the day/night before) and went to the NCO Club as directed that evening. The 1st Sgt and Sgt Major were there, and bought several rounds for us that evening = discussions of "Politics in the Military" and congratulations on a "JOB WELL DONE" as the Sgt Major stated.

Sometimes there is a difference between "The Official Record", the Stated Position" and the "Reality" and How people within the system see things. That evening drinking a couple of beers bought by a couple of "Old Salts" as a young Marine Sergeant are fond memories.

[Catshooter]

It's also good to remember that truth, in all no kidding reality, really can be stranger than fiction. If ten years ago you had read a book describing the events of 2020 you wouldn't believe it! Especially one describing what politics had become. Sheesh!


Cat

[MUSTANG]

For me, the "Guard" changed its uniforms and insignia to make us look like a Bus Driver's convention, returning to work for the Federal Department of Transportation rather than the years of service under the Secretary of Defense at the culmination of the Vietnam "conflict". Our Ice Breaker was reassigned from private mooring across from Howard Hughes' Spruce Goose Hangar and USNS Hughes Glomar Explorer in Long Beach, to the Navy Base in Los Angeles.

Marines, as Gate Guards, suddenly had Hooligans coming and going with "metallic insignia" of rate on their collars for Enlisted, the New Guard "look", as was previously reserved only for Officers. It was gratifying, though not deserved, to be saluted by the Marines on every entry and exit from the LA Naval Base.


Land Owner. Thanks for your story; brought to memory a revelation from 2 of our 3 sons last year while they were visiting with their families. Back about 3 or 4 decades ago I was still in the Corps as an Officer (my "Mustang" Avatar is related to having served both Enlisted and Commissioned). Our youngest son was in the Army for 5 years as an Intelligence Analyst and the middle son is a mechanical Engineer working in Silicon Valley as Manager of a major Company's Cellular Division. Any way last summer they ADMITTED to mom and dad some of their Youthful Transgressions. Seems that 3 to 4 decades ago they were visiting us at our Off Base home and they borrowed the car to "Go Shopping". From their recent admission; I now know they drove to the Base. The youngest got a thrill out of "Being Saluted" by the Marine Gate Guards (Remember he was Enlisted Army) and the middle son evidently egged it on. The two of them evidently drove in one gate and out other gates several times; until on the 5th or 6th drive through the Marine Guards Stopped them and gave them a grilling. They finally sheepishly admitted what they had been doing and promised to go home and not do it anymore.

Kids; even when we think they should know better (or that they have grown up) in their mid 20's - they can still make you shake your head. In my case more than 30 years after.

[Der Gebirgsjager]

This thread has gotten so long, so many pages of posts, that I can't remember if I told this one or not. The real problem is that to tell it I'll have to be very careful about language, and you may have to kind of use your imagination.

The story is brought to mind by Mustang's tale of the Woman Marines. The situation was pretty much the same in the Army. The only WACs I saw were on one visit to the HQ building. They resided in a long barracks inside a chain link fence with floodlights, exactly as described by Mustang. That was a Ft. Hood, TX. No guards were posted that I am aware of, but there were signs attached to the fence saying that it was absolutely off limits. It was said by some that if you trespassed and the WACs caught you they'd either beat you to death, love you to death, or maybe both. But, as already noted, WAC sightings, even during the daytime were rare enough to comment on.

So I ended up in a walled Kaserne in Germany where there were no military females at all that I was aware of. One evening I was strolling down to the Pass Gate and encountered a female all dressed in a white uniform. I was kind of in shock. As we approached I was looking her uniform over trying to determine exactly what she was, it was already getting dark, and before I could reach an opinion here it came: "Private! Don't you salute a blankety-blank Officer?" "Yes, ma'am," as I snapped to and rendered the demanded courtesy. "Ma'am? You're calling me ma'am? Do you know that ma'am is a contraction of Madam, and that a Madam runs a (different words--best I can do) house of ill repute? Do I look like I run a house of ill repute to you?" "Uh, uh... no Sir." "Sir? Do I look like a Sir to you?" Actually she didn't-- she was a rather attractive short haired blonde in her late 20s. This was all delivered in a tone pitch just one or two decibels lower than a scream. Now I didn't know what to call her, but knew that it wasn't "ma'am or sir." So I just said, "What should I call you?" "Address me by my rank, Private!" Since I had first seen her approaching I had not ceased to try and figure out what that was, and nearest I could tell she had tiny Lt. bars on her lapels, not on her epaulets. "Yes, Lieutenant!" "Lieutenant? I'm not a Lieutenant! I'm a Warrant Officer. Don't you know what a Warrant Officer is?" "No Warrant Officer. I've never seen one before." "Private, who is your commanding officer?" "Capt. John Morris, Warrant Officer." "I'm going to tell him that you do not know your Army ranks. You can leave now!" I did leave, sort of in shock. Never heard any more about it. I guess she either worked at or was visiting the dispensary, the white uniform probably indicating medical personnel. I never ran into another one, female soldier or Warrant Officer during my remaining 3 years. Whenever this memory returns I'm kind of :shock: This lady really had a bad mouth.

[Winger Ed.]

When I went overseas in '76, the Marine Corps and Navy had about .1% women on active duty.
If you were on a small base, there might be one or two, more often there wasn't any.
If you saw one at all, she was always in Dispersing, Admin., or Supply.

While I was overseas, they raised the allowable number from a tenth of a percent, to about one full percent.
When I got back, it seemed like they were everywhere.

At the time, they still weren't allowed to serve on a ship, submarine, or go into any of the combat specialty fields like Infantry,
Artillery, Armor, or able to become pilots.
If they weren't a nurse or doctor--- they'd not be allowed anywhere close to a war zone.

Back then, they were still mostly in offices, but a few were turning up in aircraft or vehicle maintenance, even a few were MPs
on big bases where there was enough guys to meet requirements for deployments, and still leave them there.

I remember guys that worked in the same MOS that had a concentration of WAVEs and WMs were already
complaining about the women taking up all the shore duty billets,
and they found themselves on the USS Big Gray more and more often.


At Quantico, we had 3-4 in Aircraft Maintenance, and one was in the Flt. Equipment shop.
When my shop had a opening, it was like wrestling with the devil--
but she was the best qualified, had the security clearance, and I got her into the 'cage' on the Marine One crew.

I never regretted it for a minute.
She became the first WM in Marine Aviation to earn, and be awarded the Presidential Service Badge.
And after I got out, she became the first WM to take over a shop in the Maint. Dept. of the Executive Flight Detachment,
and did a fine job as my replacement Work Center Supervisor for the three more years she was there.

[gbrown]

This is going to take awhile, so please bear with me. My father, mother and uncles were all products of the Great Depression. Dad, born 1909, Mom, 16, uncles 23 and 26. All had it tough, all I can say. Dad joined the Army Reserve in 36 or 37. Was in the Coastal Artillery. When called up in early 41, discharged, as he was married with pregnant wife. His unit was sent to the Phillipines mid 41. I was close to not being here. Dad was an Ironworker, worked in the shipyards in Lake Charles, LA. Asked my mom, what am I going to tell my son, when he asks me "What did you do in the war, Dad?" Started pestering all recruiters. Navy needed specialized people. Finally got into the navy in 43. He went thru basic in Idaho. Huh? Wanted the Seabrees, but couldn't make it for various reasons. Ended up repairing landing craft at Treasure Island in San Francisco Bay. Look at his stripes--in service 1943-1945. How was that? Wow. Came out CPO 3? I'm not that familiar with Navy rank. Uncle 1, Shornden McCloud, born 23.
Champion bowler in the Midwest in the mid 30s. Joined the Army 1941 or 42. Was sent to OCS, then flight training. Trained in P-38s, sent to England, 43. Knocked down by his wingman, who panicked, and turned hard, slicing off one of my uncle's tail pieces. He parachuted down, only to be confronted by angry villagers whose town was bombed by bombers who couldn't bomb their targets. A local police officer saved him and kept him in his house for several days until the Army showed up. Treated him as a member of the family. After the war, the officer committed suicide. I read the letter from the wife to my uncle. Heart rending. Uncle spent a year as a POW. Not good, as Germany was running out of food and fuel for its own citizens, much POWs. A month b4 the collapse/surrender of Germany, they are herded out of the camp and start marching. It was difficult, in that they had people they had to carry, help, etc. One morning, they woke up in the snow by the side of the road, their guards are gone. Senior officers decide to continue on in the direction they were going. German people came out to the roadside with what food they had to help them. Finally ran into the advancing allies. I asked him,"What do you remember most about that?" The food, was the reply. Other Uncle--Naval enlisted uniform. Bill. Had a rough childhood, was like 5-6 or 5-5. Had the little man syndrome, as he was pushed around, bullied. In high school, he beat the snot of a bigger guy who bullied him. Judge basically told him, reform school or military. Grandfather signed for him. I was told he went in at 16. Not sure. He was on Jeep carriers or escort carriers. Off Okinawa, they were hit by Kamikazes. He and his best friend were by a cable, for personnel safe up front. A Kamikaze hit the deck and slid forward. Everyone scrambled, when the dust settled, best friend was gone, body never found any remains. Both uncles had PTSD, I have no doubt. Just wasn't recognized or diagnosed at that time. Both had a rough life. True American Heroes, as my Dad was. Have to add photos later, sorry.

[MstrEddy]

Winger Ed,
I was also an Air Winger, and I'm Eddy, so I guess I could be Winger Eddy...
I'm also a Mustang, as I went from enlisted to officer.
I have done active duty and Reserve.
And, I also went from the Corps to the Air Force.
All told, this September I celebrated 38 years in uniform from when I first set foot on the yellow footprints at Parris Island. I'll be retiring from the AF Reserve in January. The image below is from a FB post I made on September 24th.

My story is from Boot Camp, back in 1982. We were probably a week out from graduation and we would be routinely dropped for incentive PT for no apparent reason, as we were not messing up too often in those days. Back then the favored exercise when the DI dropped us was mountain climbers. Well, we're in the barracks and IPT wasn't really hard anymore, the DI tells us to drop "mountain climbers, left, right..."
I do a few, and I stand up at attention. The DI zeroes in on me... "What's wrong Martinez?"
"Sir, Private Martinez requests permission to speak to Drill Instructor Coronado"
"What's wrong Martinez, you don't want to exercise?"
"Sir, Private Martinez requests permission to stop mountain climbing"
"What, you're tired"
"Sir, Private feels he has reached the top of the mountain -sir!"
You could have heard a pin drop, everybody froze. The DI froze, he then turned around abruptly, marched into the DI hut, slammed the door, and then we all heard the loud guffaws and laughter. Everybody, breathed a sigh of relief and started laughing. A few minutes later, he got his game face back on, he comes back out, addressed us --
"Well privates, I guess Martinez is right, you've reached the top of the mountain, no more mountain climbers - push-ups! Up-down, up-down!"
We were all laughing as we did the push-ups!
That was the best IPT we ever did in Boot!
269895

[Winger Ed.]

I was at 1stBN Parris Island from Jun '73 until Sept.
Probably the hardest part of Boot Camp was not be allowed to laugh. You had to keep a straight face, not matter what was going on.
We saw things that would make a dog laugh--- but we couldn't.

My last few hours there, we were hanging around the barracks after graduation waiting for the bus to leave.
One of our drill instructors sent me with a note to his buddy whose platoon was on the deck above us in the same barracks building.
And I was to wait for a answer, then bring it back.

I went up, delivered the note, his platoon was playing 'typhoon', with everything dumped out on the deck, and stirred around.
Including all the fart sacks had been pulled off the mattresses, and a Private was inside each one.
They were all out in the pile of everything doing 'bends and thrusts'.
What ya saw in the squad bay was about 80 fart sacks jumping, flopping, and bobbing around all over the place.

I guess I passed my final exam. I pretended not to see it, and the DI pretended to not know it was going on.
That was one of the funniest things I'd ever seen in my life----- and I didn't laugh.

[popper]

TAD at NAS Corpus aft picking up the Carla junk on base got transferred to BOQ. Two Waves had day duty, I got nights.
ran telemetry for a missile shot and had to lock the skipper out of compartment, CPO ordered. Receiver dumped chart paper on the floor at 60"/sec. Other than Rus aircraft overhead, nothing going on.

[Winger Ed.]

Watching the President's campaigning the last few weeks really makes me glad I'm not back at Quantico now.

Presidential movements require a bunch of things happening before, and along the way for their trips.
Doing a motorcade is so involved, security wise, with checking the route, putting Police Officers
on every overpass, every free-way on & off ramp, stopping and clearing all other traffic, and on & on,
they use the helicopters as much as possible.

Pres. Trump is doing rallies at airports to simplify the process.
They shut down just that airport as AF one comes, is on the ground, and goes.
Out in the desert, they'd leave it at one airport, take the helicopters to another, do a rally and come back.

It save hundreds and hundreds of hours of overtime and hassle for the police and security folks.

I was at Quantico for Pres. Carter's re-election campaign.
From the summer of 1980 until after the election,
our hanger there was pretty empty from the birds being on all the trips.

Afterwards, and everybody had a chance to slow down and catch their breath--
we had a small get together at one of the guy's house.

His wife told us all fall, she felt like a hooker.
She said, her husband would show up, spend the night,
leave some money on the dresser, and be gone again for another few weeks.

[Lloyd Smale]

For me, the "Guard" changed its uniforms and insignia to make us look like a Bus Driver's convention, returning to work for the Federal Department of Transportation rather than the years of service under the Secretary of Defense at the culmination of the Vietnam "conflict". Our Ice Breaker was reassigned from private mooring across from Howard Hughes' Spruce Goose Hangar and USNS Hughes Glomar Explorer in Long Beach, to the Navy Base in Los Angeles.

Marines, as Gate Guards, suddenly had Hooligans coming and going with "metallic insignia" of rate on their collars for Enlisted, the New Guard "look", as was previously reserved only for Officers. It was gratifying, though not deserved, to be saluted by the Marines on every entry and exit from the LA Naval Base.

yup i was in then too. I remember a few chiefs that actually retired because they took there kakis away. We were training at little creek amphibious base in norfolk and when i had blues on i was always getting saluted by the navy sailors. between the fact you wore a suit like an officer and had that gold coast guard emblem on your hat you were always getting saluted. When i wore my p__ cutter hat with that emblem on it i even had officers salute me. Happened so much the navy guys I was training with started calling me Lieutenant for a nick name.

[Lloyd Smale]

Nope, not gonna be nice to someone who calls a bunch of men who have signed a check for "up to and including my life" made out to their country liars. Not gonna do it.


Cat

couldnt agree more

[samari46]

We were on a med cruise back in 65, stopped in Naples and all the bun boats would come alongside to get out rags trash,old clothes and any scrap metal. They had a block and tackle set up for the navy regulation 32 gallon trash cans. One of the guys humped a boiler feed pump shaft. Ties a rope to it and over the side it goes. Well it slipped the knots and went down like a torpedoe. Straight through the main deck and outside the hull. He starts screaming and the boat is getting lower in the water. Not fast but it was of some concern. So they brought his boat to where the big cranes lifted the jets. Put it on deck and some guys from the carpenter shop showed up to make repairs. All this takes a couple hours. And this Italian who had been screaming the last two hours is still yelling. One guy says in Italian "shut up, we broke your boat so we fixed it" and if you don't stop screaming we'll throw you and your boat over the side and you'll be next. Got real quiet after that. Another day in sunny Naples. Frank

[Winger Ed.]

I was on youtube and watched a old film about the B-29's air war over Japan.

One of the first reasons taking Iwo Jima was so important was to provide a emergency landing strip
for shot up B-29s on their way back from bombing the home islands of Japan.

It reminded me of a guy I used to know who was there in the early days.
They'd gotten a workable run way built, but they were still getting mortared,
and you could hear gun fire from the Grunts still chasing Jap. soldiers around.

He told of one of the first damaged B-29s to land there on its way back 'home'---
Their other option was ditching along the 'picket' line near one of the ships & submarines on rescue duty, and lose the plane.

A shot up B-29 with several different sizes of holes all in it, chunks of its skin hanging off, came in, and set down.
About that time, mortars started landing,,,,,,,,, much closer than they were comfortable with.

The Aircraft Commander- probably a kid about 25 years old had just gotten out of the plane, followed by the crew.
He looked around, then told his crew to get back on board.
He said, "This place is worse than where we came from". They fired it back up and left.

[Winger Ed.]

A couple days ago a thread reminded me of something I've laughed about ever since.

A little background:
In the Marine Corps, there are two very small groups of people who wear stars as, or as part of their rank insignia.
General grade Officers, and enlisted Sergeant Majors. (see picture) And nobody messes around with either group.

A (a E-9) SgtMaj fills the billet of the senior enlisted person in any command where the specialists in their field-
such as Aviation Maintenance can rise to become a (E-9)Master Gunnery Sergeant.
As such, not that it matters much to them, but the most junior SgtMaj technically out ranks the most senior MGySgt.

So, in aviation, we rated a SgtMaj in every command from the smallest squadron, or Group, on up to the 'Wing' level.
On Okinawa, we had 9 on our air station--- that would have only had one or two SgtMajs if it had been populated by Grunts.
They were all Grunts, they all knew each other, hung out together, and had served together for at least 20 years and a couple of wars.

One Friday afternoon, there wasn't much going on in the Admin. Office.
Our SgtMaj stuck his head in the door, on his way out of the building, and told my room mate,
"Sergeant ______!,,,, there's a SgtMaj's meeting over at the Staff NCO club. I'm headed over there".

He replied, pretending to be all confused, and fumbling through some papers on his desk, said,
"Sir, when I wrote out the Plan of the Day, I didn't see anything about a Sergeant Major's meeting at the Staff Club".

Our SgtMaj,,, pretending to be mad, patted his shoulder and said,
"That star says there's a SgtMaj's meeting over at the Staff NCO club"!

I still chuckle when I remember that.