Don't know if it's true or not...

My boss often forwards along to me interesting little tidbits he gets. Here's the one he just sent me. I don't know if it's true or not, but it's funny enough to brighten a dreary, rainy Monday morning.

The conversation went like this...

Iranian Air Defense Radar: "Unknown aircraft you are in Iranian airspace. Identify yourself."

Aircraft: "This is a United States aircraft. I am in Iraqi airspace."

Iranian Air Defense Radar: "You are in Iranian airspace. If you do not depart our airspace we will launch interceptor aircraft!"

Aircraft: "This is a United States Marine Corps F/A-18 fighter. Send 'em up, I'll wait!"

Iranian Air Defense Radar: ......... (no response .... total silence) .........
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Almost definitely apocryphal, but still funny.
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For those of you wondering, this is an F/A-18C (probably), although it's (probably) a Navy Hornet and not a Marine one, but they look pretty much the same:
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Loaded for bear the pylons under it's wings will carry six missiles and, when those run out, it has a 20mm cannon. It's a pretty formidable foe (and when one's about, you can be sure there's at least one more lurking around).

A common virtue

"Among the men who fought on Iwo Jima, uncommon valor was a common virtue." - Fleet Admiral Chester W. Nimitz, U.S. Navy, 16 March 1945

Sixty-five years ago today, one of the last major battles of the Second World War began when the 3rd, 4th and 5th Marine Divisions began landing on the black volcanic sand of Iwo Jima. The landing, in contrast to the coming battle, was eerily unopposed.

But that didn't last long. After the shooting started, it took 34 days for Marines to clear the tiny island.

Just about everyone know the Joe Rosenthal photo of the raising of the American flag on Mount Suribachi, Iwo Jima, that inspired the Marine Corps War Memorial in Arlington. Since the actual photo of the flag raising belongs to The Associated Press, here's one of the memorial I shot last year during the Sunset Parade.

But did you know, this famous picture was of the second flag raising? Yep, the first flag to go up was too small, and the battalion commander who sent the flag up the hill wanted it for his battalion. So they did it again.

Here's the picture of the first flag raising shot by Marine Corps photographer Staff Sgt. Louis Lowery.


While the Rosenthal photo is inspiring, I've always liked this picture as well. It's a little more ... gritty. It shows Marines as they were then and are to this day. I should point out, in case you're interested, both flags now reside at the National Museum of the Marine Corps in Quantico and are displayed on a rotating basis.

When the Secretary of the Navy James Forrestal saw the flag as he landed on the black sand beach, he said to the Gen. Holland "Howlin' Mad" Smith, "Holland, the raising of that flag on Suribachi means a Marine Corps for the next five hundred years."

We can only hope so.

Happy 234th Marine Corps Birthday!

My boss, a former soldier, came over to me this morning to wish me a happy birthday, a Happy 234th Marine Corps Birthday. Along with his greeting, he mentioned a friend's son who is spending his first birthday at P'cola (Naval Air Station Pensacola, Fla.), locked down and confined to barracks because of Tropical Storm Ida. This made me think back to my first Marine Corps Birthday, way, way back when and many years ago.

I spent it, appropriately enough, at Marine Corps Recruit Depot Parris Island, during the fifth or sixth week of basic training – boot camp. Along with a slice of birthday cake in the 3rd Battalion mess hall, a rare enough treat, I remember the DIs (drill instructors, not drill sergeants) - maybe - being just a little bit easier on us that day. It was as if they were saying, "You may not be Marines yet, but this is OUR day and we're going to give you just a taste of what it's like to celebrate with us."

It was Sergeant Hart, Sergeant Vann and Sgt. Pearson's little gift to us, Platoon 3099. And yes, I do remember all of their names all of these years later.

Other Marine Corps Birthdays were spent in Twentynine Palms, Calif., Camp Lejeune, N.C., and Greensboro, N.C. (when I was in the reserves). All of them different, all of them special.

In '89, at Lejeune, I cleaned up at a friend's poker game. The following year we – Bob, Puddin, Lumpy, Underdog, Mike, Roof, Jenny, I Am The Way, Pepe, J.E.B., Bird, Tony and I – celebrated knowing sometime soon we'd all be heading overseas to war. And, in '95, I went to the ball in Greensboro in my Dress Blues with a beautiful girl I was madly in love with on my arm.

But, somehow, it's that first, humble birthday on the third deck of Building 423 at Parris Island, spent in utilities without an Eagle, Globe and Anchor on the pocket* that remains the most special.

Semper Fidelis! The Foggy Dew

As is tradition around here, here is this year’s Birthday Message from Gen. James T. Conway, Commandant of the Marine Corps. (Note: Before someone mentions the all caps, that's just the way All Marine -ALMARs - are transmitted. Nothing I can do about it since I'm not going to retype the whole thing.)

UNCLASSIFIED//
ALMAR 033/09
MSGID/GENADMIN/CMC WASHINGTON DC DMCS//
SUBJ/UNITED STATES MARINE CORPS BIRTHDAY MESSAGE - 10 NOVEMBER 2009//
GENTEXT/REMARKS/1. UNITED STATES MARINES REPRESENT THE BEST YOUNG MEN AND WOMEN OUR NATION HAS TO OFFER. TO BE A MARINE IS TO BE A MEMBER OF AMERICA'S WARRIOR CLASS - TO BE ONE OF THE FEW WHO STEPS FORWARD WITH THE COURAGE AND CONVICTION TO FACE WHATEVER DANGERS AWAIT. OUR NATION EXPECTS HER MARINES TO BE READY WHEN THE NATION CALLS; TO LEAVE FAMILY AND THE COMFORTS OF HOME BEHIND; TO MARCH INTO BATTLE AND THRIVE UNDER AUSTERITY; AND TO COME HOME UNDER A VICTORY PENNANT.

2. FROM AL ANBAR IN THE WEST OF IRAQ, TO HELMAND PROVINCE IN THE SOUTH OF AFGHANISTAN, OUR CORPS OF MARINES CAN ALWAYS EXPECT TO BE FOUND WHERE THE FIGHT IS TOUGHEST. SUCH IS OUR HISTORY. TODAY, AS WE WRITE THE FINAL CHAPTER ON OUR VICTORY IN IRAQ, WE WILL INCREASINGLY TAKE THE FIGHT TO THE ENEMY IN AFGHANISTAN AND ADD NEW PAGES TO OUR LEGACY IN PLACES CALLED DELARAM, NOW ZAD, AND GARMSIR. ONE DAY, WE WILL RETURN TO OUR NAVAL HERITAGE AND PATROL THE HIGH SEAS WITH OUR NAVY BROTHERS. SUCH IS OUR FUTURE.

3. AS WE CELEBRATE OUR CORPS' 234TH BIRTHDAY, WE FIRST PAUSE TO REFLECT AND PAY TRIBUTE TO THOSE MARINES WHO HAVE GIVEN THE LAST FULL MEASURE IN DEFENSE OF FREEDOM. WE EXTEND OUR DEEPEST GRATITUDE TO OUR MARINE CORPS FAMILIES - THE UNSUNG HEROES WHO ENDURE HARDSHIP AND SACRIFICE SO THAT WE ARE ABLE TO GO FORWARD AND ACCOMPLISH ANY MISSION. WE EXTEND OUR APPRECIATION TO OUR COUNTRYMEN WHO HAVE ANSWERED OUR EVERY NEED. AND WE CELEBRATE THE MAGNIFICENT MEN AND WOMEN WHO WILLINGLY AND SELFLESSLY CONTINUE TO GO INTO HARM'S WAY TO PROTECT THIS GREAT NATION.

4. TO ALL WHO HAVE GONE BEFORE, TO THOSE WHO WEAR THE UNIFORM TODAY, AND TO THE FAMILIES THAT GIVE US THE STRENGTH TO FORGE AHEAD - I WISH YOU ALL A HEARTFELT HAPPY 234TH BIRTHDAY!

5. SEMPER FIDELIS! JAMES T. CONWAY, GENERAL, U.S. MARINE CORPS, COMMANDANT OF THE MARINE CORPS//

*I don’t know how they do it at Parris Island today, but back in the Old Corps the camouflage utilities we wore at boot camp were devoid of markings. No name tags, no rank insignia and, most definitely, nothing that might tend to identify us as Marines since we weren’t yet Marines. The day we got to iron on that black Eagle, Globe and Anchor to our breast pockets was a proud one.

TMI Thursday: Save water, shower with a friend

It's TMI Thursday my friends. For more stories that will entertain and disgust you at the same time go to LiLu’s place for this week's full list. And now, on to the fun!

This one falls into the TMI war stories category.

“The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood…” – Teddy Roosevelt.
What’s the longest you’ve gone without a shower? For most people, the answer to that question is probably in the five to seven day range – the length of a good old fashion camping trip. But, even during a trip like this, there’s usually a lake or stream where you can wash you ass somewhere around Day 3 or 4.

For me, the answer to the question is somewhere up beyond the 30 day mark. Imagine 30 whole days, a month, without a shower?

This shower-free time was not part of a sojourn to a hippie commune, rather quite the opposite, in fact. Back in the early days of 1991, the government asked my friends and me to head over to Saudi Arabia to assist the Kuwaitis in a little land dispute with their neighbors to the north. Seeing as how Operation Desert Shield and Operation Desert Storm took place mainly in the desert (believe it or not, there was a naval element), water and showers were in short supply.

Now, I’m not saying we didn’t keep ourselves clean, we did. Or, at least, as clean as we could manage. ut the little whore baths we took mainly involved stripping down nekid while standing in the open, about a quart or so of water in a bowel – half cold, half hot from our 40-cup coffee urn – a washcloth, a plywood board to stand on and continuous prayer you didn’t drop the soap. (No, not for the reasons yer thinking. Have you ever dropped a wet bar of soap in the sand? If you have you know you might as well just throw it away ‘cause using it after that is like trying to wash with a brick.)

We called them CPAs for the most important parts you cleaned: Crotch, Pits and Ass. Yeah you got clean, but it was even less satisfying than a Navy shower.

Then came the day after 30 or so days in the desert when we got to head over to the big supply area to pick up some spare parts and – Glory Hallelujah Sweet Jesus! – get our utilities cleaned and take a hot shower.

We actually waited in line for our turn.

I’m going to skip the description except to say that while the water had a bit of a chemical smell (chlorine), it was hot, with pressure and absolutely, positively glorious. Basically the best 10-or-so-minute shower I’ve ever had in my life.

After we all got dressed in clean skivvies, socks and utilities (an older version of the ones on the left) one of my buddies, Reggie, commented, “I ain't nothing but clean from head to toe!”

He was right and we were. And the feeling lasted pretty much through the next day.

But hey, wait a minute! Where did all that water for the showers and laundry come from? The water in the showers never turned off and it’s not like there was a giant water tank sitting there.

After a bit of investigation we learned what a ROWPU is. A ROWPU is a Reverse Osmosis Water Purification Unit. Basically, a ROWPU can pretty much take the dirtiest, nastiest water you can imagine and turn it into clean, delicious drinking water. The city of Tampa Bay uses a giant one to turn salt water into drinking water.

So, basically, what was happening was the water was coming out of the shower head, over our bodies – and those of every other dirty, filthy Marine for a 50-mile radius – down the drain and into and out of the ROWPU.

And then back out the shower head.

Lather. Rinse. Repeat.

TMI Thursday: Cougar Chunks

It's TMI Thursday my friends. For more stories that will entertain and disgust you at the same time, go to LiLu’s place for this week's full list. And now, on to the fun! 

A conversation at a barbecue this past Memorial Day weekend evoked this memory from deep in the recesses of my psyche. It was another Memorial Day weekend and I was in Twentynine Palms, Calif. If you’ve never been there, well, that’s probably because you’ve never been in the Marines. 

29 Stumps as it is lovingly known to those who’ve been there, or even passed close by, is the home of the Marine Corps Air-Ground Combat Center - about 931 square miles of nothing but desert. (By comparison, Rhode Island is 1,500 square miles.) 

By Memorial Day weekend my friends and I had basically been trapped aboard the base for four months and we needed to leave. One friend, Brian, was from Tucson and, best of all, had a car. 

Long story short, on the Friday before Memorial Day, Brian and I and our friends Ray and Bill loaded ourselves into Brian’s 1970’s vintage Mercury Cougar and headed off to Tucson.

Our route ... as best I remember

But not before making a short stop at the local If-your-money-is-green-you’re-21 Convenience Store to fill the cooler.

Let’s do the math, shall we? Four (4) 19-year-old Marines + four (4) cases of Bud + one (1) over-powered 1970s vintage American sedan = Well, what the hell do you think it equals?

Bill and I were in the back seat having lost the “Shotgun” contest, in which I think we may have actually shot-gunned beers to see who got to sit up front. About an hour and a half and six beers into the six-or-so hour ride, I look over at Bill and he ain’t looking so good. 

He Ain’t Looking So Good!

“Brian!”

“What?” 

“Open your window, I think Bill’s gonna puke!”

All of this shouted over the blasting stereo. 

I don’t know if you’ve ever tried to hang your head out the window of a 70’s vintage Mercury Cougar, but it’s not the easiest thing in the world. Oh, we were also going about 95 MPH down I-10. And drinking.

Small back windows make beer recycling hard 

Somehow, with a bit of help from his friends, Bill managed to return his beer to the wild and we continued speeding down the road. 

When we stopped at the Del Taco in Blythe, right on the CA/AZ border, for some tacos (surprisingly, Bill was hungry) we took a moment to inspect the damage. And then we borrowed a hose from the guy spraying down the parking lot. 

It’s not like we wanted to be cruising across southern Arizona with a giant streak of puke streaming down the driver’s side of the car. That just wouldn’t do.