Stunt, your memory is nothing short of amazing, every detail. I love it! Love it! And thanks. I personally cherish every word and wll print out those posts to keep so that has to tell you something. People are usually amazed at my memory mind for detail. But I do believe I have met my match, and then some. Do you know that recalling facts with such detail, going back so many years, actually helps build the neurons of the brain transmitters, those paths that messages take and travel across the super highways of the grey matter. And it all helps to keep us oldtimers sharp; it's the "deep thinking" that builds and strengthens the, as Major (he was a Captain when I took his training) Walker called, THE BRAIN HOUSING GROUP. Speaking of which, I didn't know Walker's first name, but since you refreshed my memory, I believe you are right. What confirms that was your comment that Walker got a haircut every day. And drove a Marine Corps green Caddie. Yes, my friend, that is him. Rumor (fact) has it that the Hiriam Walker Whiskey founder and old man had two sons and
told them they both must accomplish great and unsual things in life to inherit
the family fortune. I believe the one brother became some bigshot attorney or
surgeon down in the south, while the other, our Marine hero, became, perhaps, the most colorful character the Corps has ever produced, and that's
saying something cause the Corps has produced some genuine ones, including
Walker's idol and role model, Chesty Puller. And Stunt, you met him?! Wow!?
In that training I formerly wrote about, we awoke at 4:30 in the a.m. and had
to leap out of our racks and hit for floor for a quick 20 pushups. Even the slightest blimp in our actions (or inactions) would cause an immediate saddle up for a quick 2-5 mile run, in yellow Marine Corps sweatshirt. And as we ran
down the old barracks stairway, a 10x10 foot picture of Chesty with those
steely blues were staring you in the eyes.
And yes, Chesty's son who got those horrible wounds, wrote book, something
like...Unforgetable (forgetable) son, which I have in storage. That poor soul
shot himself in the head. Dead. BY the way, regarding Major Walker. Maybe 10
to 12 years ago upon a visit to Camp Pendelton, some Marine told me that he
believed he was killed in 'Nam, in one of his subsequent tours. I would like to
think the crusty 'ol bastard (he'd probably love the reference...) was still alive.
I'd be there for him to help if he needed it.
Yea, I apologize to anyone for these extensive Marine Corps memories. LIke
Stunt says, we want to try and keep references to physical training, exercise,
weights, what have you...and the Corps had plenty of ALL. So, sorry, I'll always try to keep our relative subject matter at hand, which won't be hard @USMC.
Usually, I said. Damn it, the Corps deserves more. Just a little sidecar first. Stunt, you mentioned building that Officer's Club. I certainly couldn't claim that
kind of construction however, what I did helped change the course of SMELL,
ODOR, in our company. While on shit detail--even the gooks wouldn't burn our
shit for money--I got creative. I made and painted two signs for the shitters.
One was...The Honey Hut; the other...The Sugar Shack, both in red and yellow
Marine colors, of course. The shit sergeant was livid, ready to write me up. But
our company commander and his officers loved it, laughed and used the shitters with a renewed zest, so to speak.
And yes, Stunt, I know exactly what you mean about supply sergeants. True,
true, true. What many did would have got them arrested as civilians. But in
the Corps, and under the circumstances, everyone--well, most--loved them.
In 'Nam, our supply sergeant & team buried a $8,000 generator because our
company did not have it allocated to us. We had a big I.G. (inspection). But,
the I.G. never bothered with supply. Ruined generator, pissed Marines.