Gunny A. J. Squaredaway USMC

“Pickle Meadows” Cold Weather Training Days

September 29th, 2009 by Jack Orth | FLASHBACKS | | 0 Comments

A Marine I served with on Guadalcanal–so he’s no spring chicken and I’m not either–called me recently from his C.P. in Houlton, ME. His last checkup by the corpsman, I mean doctor, wasn’t that great, so he said, “Gunny, pack your trash and come on up so we can lie to each other about how we won the war in the Pacific! Bring some warm gear because ya never know up here in northern Maine what tomorrow will be like!” Well, reading between the lines, I figured I’d better go up sooner rather than later, and check in with the “old salt” from my younger days.

Hate leaving Trigger with anyone else, so since the Marine Corps hasn’t called me back to active duty, I’ll drive up to Maine and Trigger can ride shotgun. Packed our seabag full of Leatherneck Square gear, and wanted to bring a couple of items for my machinegunner friend .. so brought two Midweight Hoodie sweatshirts. The deep-green, heavy-duty combed cotton/poly fabric with the gold EGA embroidered logo looks and feels like a million bucks! The kangaroo pouch in front will keep your “paws” warm. One Jarhead told me he carries his sidearm in the pouch when roaming the boondocks, but we leave that up to you! Rolled up the gear to pack in the seabag, and then had a “flashback”! …

Before going to Korea in 1952, all the troops from every draft spent three or four days of cold weather training. The bus ride from Camp Pendleton seemed to take forever before we finally reached “Pickle Meadows”, which was near Bridgeport, CA. It’s well over 10,000 feet elevation, and carrying a full pack, weapon, etc., up to that elevation was no walk in the drill field.

We stayed in shelter halves in snow up to your cartridge belt, and sometimes higher. The below-zero temperatures forced the Marine Corps to have warming huts that the troops used at various intervals during the stay. To top that off, they had aggressors on snowshoes and skis screaming and yelling all night and firing blanks. The only thing missing was incoming, but we’d see that soon enough on the other side of the Pacific! Well, like all Marines, we lived through Pickle Meadows …but, it would have been a hell of a lot more comfortable with the Midweight Hoodie!

The Jarhead in Houlton knew all about Pickle Meadows, as he had been there, too. We laughed like hell about that adventure, and hundreds of other ones over our more than twenty years in The Corps. With each beer, our stories got better, and for three or four days we ate a lot, drank a lot, and talked a lot. Our stories have been worked over and embeliished on over the years, but we enjoy them now even more than we did in the old days.

I’m hoping I’ll be back in Houlton, Maine next year to continue our storytelling. There’s nothing quite like two old Marines getting together. It makes you understand once again that the Marine Corps is very special, .. and what an honor it is to have served!

Have some flashbacks of your own! You will when you wear Leatherneck Square gear!

Semper Fi …… The Gunny

“Luke the Gook”

September 25th, 2009 by Jack Orth | FLASHBACKS | | 1 Comments

Trigger was low on chow, and my stash in the cupboard was in the same shape. Reminded me of when I was a kid during the depression and parents would tell us about “Old Mother Hubbard, who went to the cupboard to fetch her poor dog a bone. But, when she got there, the cupboard was bare, so the poor dog had none!” That brought a smile to my face, as I told good old Trigger we were heading to the Supply Sergeant to load up the seabag with chow.

Threw on my Leatherneck Square Freestyle Jacket. It’s water and wind-resistant and you’ll be needing one for the fall and winter. A special faded OD modern EGA with Marines on the left chest create an outstanding look. O.K., Trigger, jump in the “Tank”, and we’ll head off to Supply.

Picked up everything we needed for a couple of weeks, and headed back to the C.P. to have a cold one and give Trigger his favorite treat before evening chow .. a “Slim Jim”, and a few ounces of “Rolling Rock” .. the buy of the week! Every so often I get this craving for thin spaghetti with garlic and oil … nothing fancy, just the garlic and oil. Three or four large cloves of garlic (minced) fried in olive oil, then mix in with the spaghetti and some parmesan cheese …. and fresh Italian bread! The great garlic smell stays in the bunker a few days, and it’s like Heaven! Then, I had a “flashback”!

When I first went on line in Korea with H/3/7, the salty short timers always told us if you smelled garlic blowing in the wind, “Luke the Gook” was close by. All they ate was fish heads and garlic the soon-to-be-heading-back-to-the-States Marines told us. Well, I never gave it much thought, and crossed it off to just plain B.S.

On my third or fourth patrol, we left the MLR in darkness and headed out into no-man’s land to set up an ambush. There’s nothing quite like way below zero weather, and lying on the deck for hours waiting for “Luke” to make a move. After a certain period of time, you start seeing things that aren’t there! Ya gotta blink your eyes often, and focus correctly before you drive yourself nuts.

Then it happened … the breeze was blowing our way, and I could swear I smelled garlic! … and, I wasn’t alone! The kid from Pittsurgh whispered, “I know it ain’t pizza, but it sure smells like Mama Mia’s Restaurant!”

We waited … we waited … and heard noises heading our way. Being in a perfect position, we could have nailed “Luke” as he and his crew came over the skyline. Just as we thought we were in the middle of “Mama Mia’s Restaurant”, the garlic smell went away! A few hours later, we were back in our bunkers on the MLR, and damn glad of it.

Now we were the salty ones, and could tell the new troops that garlic meant Gooks, and to stand by for a ram! The kid from Pittsburgh laughed in our warm bunker, and said for the rest of his life whenever he had Italian food, he’d think of our patrols into no-man’s land.

Well, my spaghetti was superior, and Trigger had a slice of garlic bread to go with the Slim Jim. I, too, thought of the aroma of garlic blowing in the sub-zero wind in Korea!

Stay off the skyline, and I’ll trade you a can of fruit cocktail for a can of those wonderful greasy sausage patties!

Semper Fi …… The Gunny

You’re All Riflemen in My Marine Corps!

September 15th, 2009 by Jack Orth | FLASHBACKS | | 0 Comments

A Jarhead friend of mine called me, and made my day! “Gunny, my grandson is in the State Highway Patrol after his four-year tour in the Corps. He invited both of us to complete a fire team of four, and head to the police range to ‘lock & load’! Don’t bring Trigger, as he hated the noise last year when we went.”

That was it for me .. I went to the seabag and pulled out my Leatherneck Square

Gave Trigger an extra treat, along with clean water and orders to be on fire watch for a four-hour shift .. then, I’d relieve him of duty. Looked in the mirror, saluted myself, as I looked so damn good in the “Five Ring” shirt, and headed for “Tank” for the ride to the range .. then, I had a “flashback”!

I was back in Yemassee, SC getting off the train to board the “cattle cars” for Parris Island. After our welcome there, we were all speechless, and wondering what the hell we had done when we decided to join the Marine Corps!

Parris Island was nowhere near as bad as we had dreamed .. it was far worse!

The weeks went by quickly though, and we were actually half way through boot camp and getting ready to head to the rifle range. After the short march to the range, our head D.I. let us know right up front what we were there for. “You maggots, if you ever become Marines, will all be riflemen in “my” Marine Corps. You may be an office pinky, a cook, in the M.C. band, motor transport, etc., but that’s not your main job. You’re all riflemen, and don’t even think differently!”

Then, another D.I. let us know in no uncertain terms, that we would all qualify as either Marksman, Sharpshooter, or Expert on qualification day! “You maggots will see platoons in formation around the rifle range, and some recruits will have rolls of toilet paper tied around their neck, or a bucket over their heads. Those maggots didn’t qualify .. they shot under 200 out of a possible 250. We want, and will have, every recruit in Platoon 263 qualify! Do you hear me?!” “Sir! Yes, Sir!”

Three days of “snapping in” .. hours and hours in the prone position, sitting position, and off hand position. Then, live fire from 200-300 and 500 yards. The day before qualification day was perfect. No wind .. sunshine .. the next day, rain and wind! Thankfully, most of us qualified, but we had a few wearing the unwanted badge of a non-qualifier aound their neck!

Got to the police range, and it continued to bring back memories of P.I. and range at Camp Lejeune, where I qualified a year later. Had many comments and Semper Fi’s about the Shooter’s Shirt, and I swear it helped me fire what would have been about 230 at Parris Island! Well, maybe not .. but, we sure didn’t have any “Maggie’s Drawers” waving in the breeze!

Told Trigger all about it over a cold one back at the C.P., and he completely understood that as you get older, it’s nice to feel “macho” again! All ready on the right! All ready on the left! All ready on the firing line!

Semper Fi …… The Gunny

The Zephyr of Camp Pendleton

September 8th, 2009 by Jack Orth | FLASHBACKS | | 0 Comments

All dogs love to ride in cars, trucks, whatever. My great dog, Trigger, is no exception. There may be only one thing he likes better than getting in the car with me, and that’s a bowl of S.O.S.! After we finished our patrol of the area the other morning at 0600, I asked if he wanted to go in the car with me in an hour or so. Well, he immediately stood at attention, and marched over to the front hatch to wait for departure time!

Threw on my NCO Sword Vest, and we headed for the car. The lightweight vest is sort of in the style of an old-time flack jacket, but not as heavy. Since we didn’t expect small arms fire or incoming, it was perfect for the mission of going to get an oil change in “Tank” .. yeah, we call our car “Tank”! Oh, the Leatherneck Square USMC logo on the chest incorporates an NCO sword with Marines & Semper Fidelis on it. Very cool, as my grandson says!

The guy who owns the repair shop and always changes my oil, was a Jarhead, so of course, we exchange a “Semper Fi”, and I sit down with Trigger to wait for the car. A guy walks in and says he’s having a problem with the clutch slipping on his pickup truck. Quick as a wink, I have a “flashback”!

I’m back at Camp Pendleton with orders to head for Korea after cold weather training, etc. .. and

we had just bought a 1939 Lincoln Zepher with a stick shift for 50 bucks from a Marine who was headed to Korea on the draft before we were. Three Jarheads chipped in for the car, and for a few wild weeks, it was ours!

Only one problem .. you could push the clutch in, but it wouldn’t come back out without the help of a rope tied to it! However, just pull the rope and you were on your way! What a car! Never a maintenance problem, and six or 8 Marines headed for Hollywood most every weekend!

Upon reaching the first objective, we each would down one or two “zombies” in large glasses, and that set the tone for the weekend! Before we headed off to the next watering hole, a guy at the bar set up the second round of “zombies” for us. Come to find out he was Jack McGrath, the great race car driver who won many national races, and was always near the top at the “Indy 500″.

Well, Jack took us all to Jack Teagarten’s bar, which was one of the hot spots in Hollywood then. Teagarten was one of the best trombone players ever, and a close friend of Jack McGrath. We spent the entire evening and early morning at Jack Teagarten’s, and all the drinks and food were on the house! Then, “Jack Mac” had us all over to his house for breakfast with his wife. She must have been real happy to see six loaded Jarheads come in, with her husband in the same condition .. but, she treated us like kings, as Jack did. When we sold the car six or eight weeks later for 50 bucks to another Marine who was headed for Korea, it was with great sorrow. The Lincoln had treated us well!

A few years back, I was invited to a past champions dinner in Daytona Beach, FL. When I asked about Jack McGrath, I was told he had been killed on a dirt track in Indiana in the late 1950’s or early 1960. I shall never forget the way he and his wife treated six Marines in 1952 in Hollywood!

When you fall out tomorrow morning, wear a smile .. for we’re all able to be around to do just that!

Semper Fi ….. The Gunny