Now this is the no crap part of my story......... One day in 1967 I was sent south to meet with the base legal officer at the San Diego Naval Base. I decided to wear my uniform on this occasion and drove my car down highway 101, the PCH for those who lived in Calif. The coast highway passes through the Marines Camp Penlton. There are rolling hills between the highway and the ocean that the Marines use to practice storming ashore in landing craft and other such maneuvers people might see while driving. On this day I had to pull off the road into a turnout on an elevated bluff for some reason I dont recall now and I got out of the car and was just looking out at the sea while smoking a cigarette. Thats when I observed a platoon of Marines jogging down below and coming my way. It was kinda neat, all those shaved heads and boots in unison as if one, their Gunny Sgt. along side calling out cadence. Memorizing to a sailor who doesnt have to do that crap. Engrossed with my view, thats when I noticed a lone sailor in dress whites just off to my right standing at the top off one of those low rolling hills out there about 200 feet away from me. How odd. I watched as the platoon approached and at just the right moment the sailor on the hill started flipping off the Gunny. The Sgt. called out Platoon halt and stared at that lone sailor up there still flipping him off. Now we all know every platoon of Marines has at lest a couple of knuckle draggers in it and so did this one. The Sgt. ordered them to go up there and take care of that swabbie. The two broke away and ran up that hill. As they approached the top the sailor ducked out of sight over other side and the jarheads followed. A few minutes later the sailor in dress whites popped back up on top and started flipping the Sgt. off again. This time the Sgt. ordered the entire 1st squad up the hill to take care of that sailor once and for all. And away they went up the hill. Again as they approached the top our sailor ducked over the other side with a squad of Marines hot after him. Moments later I could hear screams crying out in pain and other familiar sounds of a big fight. Suddenly theres silence. Then the sailor popped back up atop that hill flipping the Sgt off, his uniform clean and intact, hat on head. This time the enraged Sgt ordered the whole platoon up that hill and off they went, charging wildly and sounding like The Sands of Iwo Jima battle cries. Again the sailor stood up there flipping off the Sgt as the pumped up platoon approached the top and when they did our sailor again ducked over the other side. Well these Jarheads went over the top and immediately the sounds of a horrific fight came my way. What a dust cloud, hats and other stuff flying in the air, I thought I heard a faint medic call but it faded away. Now the Sgt seemed worried so he started to jog up the hill himself. About half way up one of his guys, all broken and bloody, came crawling over the top and down the hill waving the Sgt off. Sarge, Sarge, go back, go back. Its a trap........theres two of em. Go Navy. Its our story and we can tell it anyway we want and Thats No Crap.
Posted on: Sun, 06 Apr 2014 22:51:23 +0000
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