A Pride of Marines

Marine Land Amusement Park…1984…

The brown rodent raised his head from the hole in the ground to look at the forlorn Marine holding his crutch in one hand and a 1930s air rifle in the other. They were the only inhabitants of the dry grassy area adjoining Headquarters, First Marine Division, Fleet Marine Force.

The rodent, no one was certain whether it was a gopher or a California Ground Squirrel, noticed the Marine hadn’t noticed him. The creature rapidly scampered through a tunnel and obligingly popped up in another location so the Marine could see him.

Nyah Nyah!

Wearing a large leg cast with his Woodland camies, the Marine unsteadily leaned on his crutch and pumped the air rifle to give it enough power to kill his opponent.

The pair were joined by an observer who thought the scenario resembled a classic Golden Age of Hollywood cartoon.

Sergeant Charles Miller sang the theme song of The Go-Go Gophers to himself. He knew Lance Corporal Kokoa, the crippled Hawaiian, as both were in HQ’s Praetorian Guard, their Division’s Military Police Company. Kokoa was in his squad, then became their Commanding Officer’s jeep driver. After he broke his leg in a fall, he could no longer perform the duties of Division Military Policeman or driver. He was sent for Temporary Duty to Headquarters. Neither fit for work details, nor having the know-how to perform clerical administrative duties, he was given a Licence to Kill Viet Critters, so called because of their underground expertise and persistent sabotage that ruined the lawns.

Keep off the grass or die!

Flooding the tunnels with water only gave the VC an enjoyable bath.

Coca-Cola, as his fellow Marines called him, struggled with his crutch and air rifle under critical observation by his Sergeant and the VC.

‘Perhaps if you used your crutch as a support for your weapon…’

The VC looked at Sgt. Miller who imparted the United States Marine Corps’ approach to marksmanship,

‘BRASS, Lance Corporal Kokoa! Breathing! Relax! Aim! Stop!...Squeeeeeze…’

Kibbitzer!

Marksmanship was highly regarded in the Marines.

The recent 20th anniversary of the shooting of President Kennedy was commemorated at Headquarters by awarding marksmanship medals.

In a microsecond before firing, the VC ducked into his tunnel. The dust cloud from the ball bearing displayed Coca Cola’s aim was not that far off.

The VC raised its head again in triumph,

Maggie’s Drawers!

‘We shan’t bother with “Follow through…”’

The pair would repeat the process later that day as they had performed their show the days before and undoubtedly in the days ahead.

VC were hard to kill…on a field exercise an NCOs fired a round of marble-sized 00 buckshot from his MP shotgun. The round made a direct hit on the VC. All cheered as they saw the dust clouds of the pellets all around it as it shook its head, then no doubt laughed as it ran home to its burrow.

‘Fine effort, Lance Corporal!’, Sgt. Miller was one of the few NCOs who addressed his Marines by their rank instead of their surnames, ‘If you had a 90-millimeter recoilless rifle or a Light Anti-Tank Weapon you would’ve got him!’

‘Thanks, Sergeant!’

Sgt. Miller was a Maverick Marine as he had served in not only the US Army, but several non-American military forces. He joined the USMC instead of the French Foreign Legion because the latter wouldn’t grant him overseas leave to visit his aging parents. He was respected for his experience, but his unorthodox ideas often drew exasperation.

Mavericks were regarded with suspicion by older Marines and as a crucifix to a vampire by the younger ones. Marine Recruit Training Depot wasn’t his first and only military training, and he undertook it long after he was a teenager, ergo he didn’t believe all his indoctrination and didn’t always take it seriously.

Miller’s recruiter told him that ALL Marines had to attend ‘Boot Camp’. Miller strongly agreed and wouldn’t have it any other way; he went through as a buck private.

He found out not everything was true when a NAVY E-5, a former dog handler, went straight to the Base Military Police where he was taken through Clothing Sales with a shopping trolley to enable him to masquerade as a Marine buck sergeant. Things became more bizarre when the dog sailor was colour blind, therefore could not obtain a military driver’s licence to drive their vehicle; Marine K-9s also had no driver’s licence. It was a mystery what became of him…

Miller and Coca Cola played ‘catch up’. They were simpático, as Miller had worked several times in Honolulu and knew the feeling of being in limbo due to medical reasons.

He began his USMC service straight after returning from El Salvador, where he had picked up a form of jaundice. It manifested itself during ‘Boot Camp’ when his stools became clay coloured and the whites of his eyes changed colour, the literal ‘he’s so full of shit the whites of his eyes are turning brown!’

After his recruit training platoon were given painful rear end injections, he spent a week in the San Diego Naval Hospital. Miller then went to the Medical Recovery Platoon where recruits awaited being cleared to resume their rigorous training or received a medical discharge.

MRP proved the adage ‘all you need for an insane asylum is an empty building and the right people'.

Unable to proceed with training or perform physical punishments, the platoon spent their days shining their boots, polishing their belt buckle, memorising the Guidebook for Marines and performing nightly firewatch to see that all were still alive and hadn’t deserted, as one recruit did when he ran across the San Diego Airport runway. The biggest treat was repeatedly watching a History and Traditions video, the 1942 Wake Island. It vividly depicted that the first to fight fought to the finish. History and traditions were everything in ‘the Corps’, but nothing in the other armed forces.

Not everyone was a happy camper. For the benefit of all, one recruit expressed his reaction towards his refusal to be granted a discharge by literally beating his head against the bulkhead.

Their sergeant proclaimed,

‘This ain’t Burger King. You can’t have it your way!’

That night the firewatch turned on the light,

‘Oh my God!’

The problem child had slashed his wrist. Miller laughed as the panicked firewatch slipped in the pool of blood when he ran to bring the sergeant to stop the bleeding.

The next day involved training for the platoon by a medical corpsman chastising the recruit for being unsuccessful.

‘Marines always accomplish their mission or die trying!’

He drew and explained his diagrams of the correct way to ensure fatality by cutting one’s Radial and Ulnar arteries.

Let suiciding dogs lie…

There were no more suicides…

Miller returned to his company for a leader’s meeting, or ‘gung-ho session’.

Leadership was of the utmost importance in the Marines.

Everyone had to learn and live by the 14 leadership traits: Justice, Judgment, Dependability, Initiative, Decisiveness, Tact, Integrity, Enthusiasm, Bearing, Unselfishness, Courage, Knowledge, Loyalty and Endurance.

Miller was adept at all except ‘enthusiasm’ that he regarded with the same intolerance as ‘sympathy’. He was equally contemptuous of those who used enthusiasm to fake their way through the other traits.

In both the Marine Corps and the Army, an NCO was a leader and was expected to act like one. This contrasted with the Navy and Air Force where those equivalent to his rank were merely senior specialists who directly addressed officers with any sort of question or need for reassurance.

A Corporal was the first line of leadership for the privates and LCPLs whose initials stood for Last Chance to Play Lost, though several of the senior L/Cpls commanded fire teams consisting of three or four Marines.

There were two or three fire teams in each of the three rifle squads that comprised a rifle platoon. The Division Military Police Company were equally MPs and infantrymen. It comprised two platoons of MPs and a Security Platoon of infantrymen who had escaped from the Division’s three infantry regiments posted in camps in the middle of nowhere on the vast base.

As a squad leader he was ‘the meat in the sandwich’. He ‘caught flak’ from his squad members under him and his platoon sergeant, Gunnery Sergeant (like Orwell’s 1984, his office was Room 101), First Sergeant and his too-officious-for-the-infantry lieutenant above him who caught flak from their company commander/Provost Marshal above them.

All the squad and platoon leaders were present as were the platoon sergeants, company ‘Gunny’, First Sergeant, and their CO, all Vietnam veterans.

The Maverick had recently been in different wars in different armies, for combat experience was desired in the Corps, no matter where you were. Except for his Squad Leader’s School mentor who had been at the Mayaguez incident, all the other Marines hadn’t had combat experience since Vietnam. The comic opera Invasion of Grenada had been performed by the 2nd Marine Division from Marine World.

Their highly respected CO was what the USMC called a Limited Duty Officer and what the men called a ‘Mustang’; he had been commissioned from the ranks and had held every rank in the Corps except for Sergeant Major. LDO’s had the restriction of not being able to obtain a rank higher than Major, which he was, or in wartime only, the rank of Lieutenant Colonel.

Their CO began by reading,

‘The Navy and Marine Corps Achievement Medal is awarded to members of the Navy and Marine Corps, including members of Reserve components on active or inactive duty, of the grade of lieutenant commander/major and junior thereto, for service performed on or after 1 May 1961. The award shall be given for meritorious service or achievement in a combat or noncombat situation based on sustained performance or specific achievement of a superlative nature, and shall be of such merit as to warrant more tangible recognition than is possible by a fitness report or evaluation sheet, but which does not warrant a Navy and Marine Corps Commendation Medal or higher.’

‘For whatever reason, no NCO or Enlisted Man in this battalion has been awarded an NAM for a very long time. The word Straight from the Burning Bush is that every company in HQ Battalion will nominate five NCOs or EMs for an NAM.’

Miller thought his theory that Americans awarded medals by quota was valid.

As a former NCO and EM, their Major read their minds,

‘All of you believe that no NAMs have been awarded because nobody ever achieved anything’, he removed his spectacles to reveal his death stare that was given full use in Vietnam, ‘I don’t want problems or excuses; I want solutions!’

Gunny provided the humour none dared say out loud,

‘Medals are like haemorrhoids, every asshole gets ‘em!’

In the past, the NAM was mostly awarded to officers or Staff (senior) NCOs. Junior NCOs (Sergeants and Corporals) and EMs were told “thank you”, or were awarded a ‘96’, four days off duty, two on a weekend, as Miller had earned.

The First Sergeant shot down anyone merely having proposed a good idea,

‘You don't get medals for thinking or trying, you get medals for results.’

MP Company soon realised why no NAMs were awarded. Not because no one had done anything worthy, but-

Firstly, none wanted to be seen nominating themselves. Those that did wore the facial expressions of frustrated puppies.

The next hour demonstrated the second reason.

When someone nominated a Marine, one of the lieutenants or junior NCOs responded that ‘no one in my Marine Corps would get a medal’ who-

a) called the officer or NCO a derogatory name to his face or behind his back, or

b) threatened to kill or inflict grievous bodily harm on said officer or NCO but without any witnesses to take the matter to court-martial, for the 12th General Order was ‘Never get caught’.

Semper Animus…

Their Major’s death ray turned to Miller,

‘General Patton said, “If everybody is thinking alike, then somebody isn't thinking.” What does our Maverick think?’

All looked at Miller…

A wise man once defined the art of diplomacy as being able to tell someone to go to Hell in such a way that they looked forward to the trip. A good soldier or Marine administered reality checks to his superiors by saying it in such a way he avoided charges of insubordination but wouldn’t be promoted or awarded a Good Conduct Medal.

‘Gentlemen, we have a Mexican standoff, as the situation has been prior to today’s meeting. No one wants to be seen to nominate themselves and all the Marines that have been nominated have other issues that some feel would preclude their consideration.’

‘Preclude’ was the type of word Miller used that made him regarded as ‘strange’.

‘I have made the point that an act of merit has nothing to do with someone’s unsatisfactory conduct. For example, in the First World War the American fighter pilot Frank Luke was nominated for and awarded the Medal of Honor, yet if he had returned alive, he would have been court-martialled. No one here agrees with my point.’

‘I therefore propose the only fair solution possible. We write up five generic citations and draw five names from a hat. All Marines chosen will accept an NAM whether they want one or not.’

There were loud noises of disapproval; the loudest from the frustrated puppies…Lt. Officious called Miller ‘Un-American.’

To this day, Miller never knew if any NAMs were awarded...

FIN

Author Notes: Go Go Gophers
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dHHrI47oE30
Wake Island
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GTJBo7I02Eo

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