Thread watched. I always love reading stories about other people's experiences in the service. More camraderie here on NES is always better!
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Memoirs of a Soldier
- Thread starter Skysoldier
- Start date
kingfisher
NES Member
- Joined
- Oct 22, 2009
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I'm glad you bumped this thread, M60.
I've got many good stories from my time in the Marines, but I won't even try to compete with Kim. Thanks for posting these stories, Skysoldier.
ETA: Even my best story, which involves rappelling out of a Marine rescue helicopter onto a nude beach in CA, is not good enough.
Since this is NES... yes, the girl on the beach was very hot, and I have pictures (that I won't post) to prove it!
I've got many good stories from my time in the Marines, but I won't even try to compete with Kim. Thanks for posting these stories, Skysoldier.
ETA: Even my best story, which involves rappelling out of a Marine rescue helicopter onto a nude beach in CA, is not good enough.
Since this is NES... yes, the girl on the beach was very hot, and I have pictures (that I won't post) to prove it!
Last edited:
smokey-seven
NES Member
Flashback!! Resurrection thread and I love it!
I beat the draft in 66 and joined the USN for 4 years. Hmmmmm.
I beat the draft in 66 and joined the USN for 4 years. Hmmmmm.
M60
NES Member
You damn well better finish this story Marine.
M60
NES Member
And that was a win for you how?
smokey-seven
NES Member
Other than being cold and wet or hot and sweaty while on duty, my bunk was always warm and dry and I could shower before hitting it.
I ran the morning boat checks on a fleet of 20 some odd boats. Check oil and fluids, schedule which needed fuel and fire them up for warm up. That was at 0430. I normally completed the checks by 0600 and would grab a coffee before chow. This one morning I had to run the first day run across the river and that shoved off at 0600. I missed coffee and would be gone for 3 hours, thus missing chow as well. It was Thanksgiving day and I was really looking forward to the turkey dinner at lunch. At 1030, I was informed that being shorthanded, I would have to take all the day runs and would miss the big noon meal as well.
Long story short, I missed all the meals that day and the last run completed at 2330. I headed for the mess decks and got stale bread and horse cock with mustard and kool aid for midrats. As I sat there feeling sorry for myself eating my sandwiches and thnking about the turkey I missed while having the first food of the day, I thought about some friends of mine sitting in foxholes in the rain trying to keep the water out of their muzzles.
My bad day did not really compare to theirs.
This is from a recent email conversation I had with some associates, so it'll save me some time just to copy & paste it in here:
While stationed in Cuba '94-'95 we'd occasionally patrol through the minefield maintenance roads looking for Cuban asylum seekers as well as escapees from the migrant camps.
We'd find some from time to time.
You didn't have to be a master tracker like David Scott Donelan, because any tracks that we saw that were sneakers or flip flops we would just follow until we caught up with them.
They normally didn't move during daylight and were (justifiably) afraid to get off the roads, so making the grab was pretty easy.
None of them ever ran once we came upon them. I figured that they were so scared of being in the minefield and they knew if we got in, that we could get them out. If they were asylum seekers then that was the plan; get taken into custody by the US. If they were migrant escapees, their living conditions in the tent camps was more miserable than they were back home, so many of them would rather be back there.
Every so often when the Marine Observation Post (MOP) would report an American minefield explosion, we would have to go out and investigate that.
If we were lucky, two MOPs would report the explosion and we could then draft a rough intersection of where the mine detonated.
Once the general area was determined, we'd converge on the area and look around with night vision and thermal devices. If we found something suspect, we wait until morning and then the Combat Engineers from the minefield maintenance platoon would enter the minefield and look for the hole where the mine had been.
Every minefield on the US side was mapped out and meticulous records were kept.
On a few occasions the Engineers would find a dead deer near the point of detonation.
They'd recover the carcass and have a BBQ.
In 1996, Bill Clinton directed the removal of the US minefields in Cuba.
The work was complete in 1999.
While stationed in Cuba '94-'95 we'd occasionally patrol through the minefield maintenance roads looking for Cuban asylum seekers as well as escapees from the migrant camps.
We'd find some from time to time.
You didn't have to be a master tracker like David Scott Donelan, because any tracks that we saw that were sneakers or flip flops we would just follow until we caught up with them.
They normally didn't move during daylight and were (justifiably) afraid to get off the roads, so making the grab was pretty easy.
None of them ever ran once we came upon them. I figured that they were so scared of being in the minefield and they knew if we got in, that we could get them out. If they were asylum seekers then that was the plan; get taken into custody by the US. If they were migrant escapees, their living conditions in the tent camps was more miserable than they were back home, so many of them would rather be back there.
Every so often when the Marine Observation Post (MOP) would report an American minefield explosion, we would have to go out and investigate that.
If we were lucky, two MOPs would report the explosion and we could then draft a rough intersection of where the mine detonated.
Once the general area was determined, we'd converge on the area and look around with night vision and thermal devices. If we found something suspect, we wait until morning and then the Combat Engineers from the minefield maintenance platoon would enter the minefield and look for the hole where the mine had been.
Every minefield on the US side was mapped out and meticulous records were kept.
On a few occasions the Engineers would find a dead deer near the point of detonation.
They'd recover the carcass and have a BBQ.
In 1996, Bill Clinton directed the removal of the US minefields in Cuba.
The work was complete in 1999.
Back in my 82nd days, the end of the month was a sad time. Most of us had blown our dinero in the lovely town of Fayetteville earlier in the month by chasing fugly women, destroying our livers on cheap booze, and putting local strippers through nursing school. So the only thing left to do was to pool our limited remaining funds together, grab a couple cases of Schmidt's collecting dust in the back of the airborne PX walk-in cooler, and commence in barracks shenanigans until payday. Then the cycle would start once again.
The buffer rodeo was the highlight of these activities. Whoever could get 8 seconds on "the Bitch" would receive extra rations of the god awful, communal Schmidt's piss water. Below was my award winning 8 second ride...
The buffer rodeo was the highlight of these activities. Whoever could get 8 seconds on "the Bitch" would receive extra rations of the god awful, communal Schmidt's piss water. Below was my award winning 8 second ride...
smokey-seven
NES Member
Running a 50' open boat as engineer on a 3 man crew in Guantanamo Bay, it was the last pick from the beach and of course almost everyone was drunk. I was standing on the coxsun's flat and an officer, Lt JG came aboard and was standing next to me.
One of the liberty party missed a step and went in the water. I was watching closely and he obviously could swim, he was actually having fun. It was a 90 degree night. Another sailor reached out to him and went in too. Someone grabbed a mooring line and they were trying to pull these guys aboard. There was no threat of injury, all was progressing fine until the officer looked at me and said, "Aren't you going to do something?"
I glanced at the guys in the drink, all was well, I looked at the Lt and said, "Sir do you want everyone in the pool?"
One of the liberty party missed a step and went in the water. I was watching closely and he obviously could swim, he was actually having fun. It was a 90 degree night. Another sailor reached out to him and went in too. Someone grabbed a mooring line and they were trying to pull these guys aboard. There was no threat of injury, all was progressing fine until the officer looked at me and said, "Aren't you going to do something?"
I glanced at the guys in the drink, all was well, I looked at the Lt and said, "Sir do you want everyone in the pool?"
