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TracGunny
06-15-04, 09:42 PM
The following is a compilation of letters written as Platoon Sergeant of 3d Plt C Co 3d AA Bn, while deployed to the Western Pacific with B Co BLT 1/4, 13th MEU in 1996 aboard the USS Duluth LPD 6. I share this so that the old timers can get a laugh with the “been there, done that” and the youngsters can get a glimpse of life in the Corps… well, at least life in the Corps back in ’96… - TG

Greetings,

There is nothing quite so grand as being out on the great expanse of the open sea, the salt air filling your lungs, the sun gently caressing your face into a golden tan, and the camaraderie of bold men bravely facing the wonders and excitement of a glorious adventure! The endless sky stretching beyond not only the limits of sight but of the imagination as well, beckoning us ever forward to face the new challenges that lie ahead! Bold men on a bold adventure, blazing a fantastic path into the annuals of history…

...And then there is 3d Plt C Co 3d AA Bn’s WestPac ‘96…

Let’s see if I can bring you up to date on my latest misadventures without causing too much boredom.

The pre-deployment went well with us doing training in Camp Pendleton and Twenty-Nine Palms. It was the same routine that I go through before every WestPac so there wasn’t much excitement in doing it all again. The Marines in my platoon performed well in training and did exceptionally well on the pre-deployment inspection, so this trip started out looking pretty promising.

We left San Diego on 19 April on board the USS Duluth LPD 6 early in the morning with little fanfare and no problems. The transit across the Pacific took what seemed to be an eternity, since there was no stopping in Hawaii, Okinawa, or any of the other usual ports-of-call. It was straight to Thailand for Operation Cobra Gold. Welcome to WastPac ’96, for your first adventure there will be a twenty-five day at sea period. Not a bad trip, the weather stayed very friendly and since the vehicles left Pendleton in excellent shape not much slave driving was necessary in the tank deck. Life was relatively easy to start with.

Cobra Gold kicked off with the Combined Arms Landing Field Exercise (CALFEX). What a canine and equine animal exhibition that was! Rumor has it that PT Barnum was hired to run the show, and what a show it was. The show was preceded by two days of rehearsals; we would splash at ten thousand yards, join up with the Thai Marine’s Amphibious Assault Vehicles (AAV’s) at four thousand yards and then hit the beach, twenty US and Thai AAV’s on line. Over sixty thousand yards of water marches in three days. The ride was smooth but with the air and water temperatures in the ninety’s it was far from comfortable. The only novel experience I got out of it was being able to watch the entire production from the beach as the AAV controller and getting to see a B-1B bomber live and in person as it buzzed the beach.

The next day began the three day Final Exercise (FINEX) that meant another ten thousand yard march in the water, the same scenario as the CALFEX only at a different beach and at night with what seemed like zero illumination. The lack of rehearsal and little if any coordination with the Thai Marines made the word for the day chaos. To make a long story short, we didn’t hit exactly on center beach nor on time. It turned out that the fact we were forty minutes late was a small blessing since the Thai’s also became hopelessly lost and spent almost half an hour doing everything from donuts to actually heading the wrong way out to sea while in our boat lane. It might have been rather interesting if our two waves had run into their two waves in the darkness of that morning. I believe our use of Night Vision Goggles (NVG’s) and Infrared (IR) Chemlites kept the situation from being nothing more than very embarrassing to having become very disastrous.

I don’t think the platoon was properly focused for the FINEX because of the attitude everyone from the Marine Expeditionary Unit (MEU) Commander on down had about the CALFEX; a necessary evil to be tolerated but not really taken too seriously. Another problem is the wave commander has his work cut out for him having to maintain communication with the ship providing Initial Terminal Guidance (ITG) to shore and maintaining communication with the wave he is controlling. When things start getting out of control one or the other starts being ignored which is almost always the ship. That way the other one, which is almost always the AAVs, can receive his full attention.

The Lieutenant and I believe we had cured both ills, the first one by starting earlier and heavier with field related training before the operation (op) and issuing more concise and detailed orders during the op. The second by having a wave guide maintain comm with the ship, plotting the ITG’s, and making all the corrections for his wave, and the wave commander maintaining comm with the AAV’s in the wave and ensuring the wave follows the wave guide.

Having just reread the last paragraph I noticed that it sounds a lot more complicated than it really is. Trust me.

We survived the three-day FINEX with little damage to man or machine, but I’m not at all positive how the Thai’s felt about our rearranging their road surfaces. A quarter-inch of asphalt laid on top of hard pack isn’t the ideal surface for running AAV’s across on warm spring days.

There was no liberty during this stop in Thailand, which really bummed out the party animals.

The day after we left Thailand found us moored pier side at the Sembawang Navy Base, Singapore. I swear that place keeps getting increasingly more expensive every time I go there, but the five days of liberty and the chance to get off ship in something other than a uniform was appreciated by all. The facilities at Sembawang Pier have improved with the reopening of the Terror Club that has a pool, game room, Armed Forces Radio & Television Service (AFRTS), recreational areas, and, of course, one indoor and one outdoor (by the pool) bar.

The Marines in the platoon conducted themselves beyond reproach and acquitted themselves well, with the possible exception of my three lads whose watches were running a few minutes slow causing them to be three minutes late across the brow on the last night of libo. More about them later.

We hadn’t put as much as twenty-four hours between us and Singapore when we pulled into port at Port Kelang, Malaysia, a non existent little town near the capital city Kapaau Lumpur. This libo port came too close on the heels of Singapore since no one had sufficiently recovered; neither monetarily, physically, nor mentally. Not much of a libo port, the only positive (?) comment I over heard from one of the lad’s was, “Well, at least the beer’s cheaper…”.

Ten days straight of libo this early in the game was a little too much, every one was ready to get back underway.

continued...

TracGunny
06-15-04, 09:45 PM
The Indian Ocean tried her best to make up for the fair seas that the Pacific had shown us. Once we were past the Straight of Malacca and the Andaman Sea we picked up high winds and heavy seas that refused to abate until we were well into the Gulf of Aden. The AAVs down in the well deck never moved but everything else sure did.

We dropped anchor off the coast of Djibouti for half a day to take on supplies and mail before moving on into the Red Sea. We never touched land since the supplies were brought in by helicopters. I thought that this might mean that I would escape having to go to Africa on this WestPac.

As the platoon sergeant, I kept busy dealing with administrative stuff and by inspecting the state of my AAVs Preventive Maintenance (PM) and Corrosion Control (CC) status. On the average, it takes me three days to get through the entire platoon. I check to see if PM was being done in accordance with the TM-10 technical manual and how well of a job the crew is doing at keeping up with corrosion control. I felt that as a platoon we were in outstanding shape! Only one of the vehicles had me concerned about falling behind. LCPL ******** and crew took honors as leaders of the pack on 3C309. I rewarded the crew with no watch standing for the next month and gave LCPL ******** (the crew chief) one “Get Off Of Work For A Whole Day Free” card, redeemable any time we’re not in the field.

We had two Company Commander’s Non Judicial Punishment (NJP) sessions so far, both for failure to report at appointed place of duty at the appointed time. LCPL **** and LCPL ********* were two of the Marines who were late the last night in Singapore and then turned around and repeated the trick on the last night in Malaysia. The short story: We gave you a chance, you said you wouldn’t blow it again, you did, Office Hours. They both received a $100.00 fine, fourteen days of restriction and fourteen days extra duty punishment (EPD). The ship just started the PMS on the Chemical Holding Tank decks (CHT; the ships plumbing system) that week and considering what passes through those areas, I’d rather be sent to the bilge’s for my EPD! They both took it well and believed it was just (so they told me) and the platoon seemed to agree, so it seems that was an isolated incident that will have no long-term effect on the platoon.

If the relationship between the Navy, the Grunts, and us could have been better than it was then, I don’t see how. The sense of cooperation and teamwork was outstanding. I truly believe that I am extremely lucky to be where I am at this point in time. From Private to Lieutenant I could not have asked for a better platoon. The support from up and down both chains of command has been, and is, superb. Promise me that all WestPac’s are like this and I’ll take them all! OK, so I’ll take them all anyway.

I guess I could have said it all with this; morale, good; Vehicles, running; Life aboard Duluth, it ain’t the Grand Hilton on Maui but I’ve sure as heck seen worse; Liberty, sucks.

Quote of the month overheard in Singapore, authored by a tall lanky Marine wearing a cowboy hat and a belt buckle the size of a Mercedes’ grill: “Sure would be a nice place if there weren’t so many dang foreigners around”. I kid you not.

The only frustration I’ve encountered is on the administrative side, with unreliable comm to state side and a Battalion Landing Team (BLT) Personnel Shop getting their third new Personnel Chief in almost as many months, support and service is not exactly stellar. Most of the problems are being worked through but a lot of the platoon’s admin woes will have to wait until we return to Pendleton to be corrected.

I continue to learn the uses of the computer. I have even gone as far as turning in rosters and reports that are not hand written. I still believe the proper spelling for computer is T-O-Y. Thank goodness Bill Gates and all the software companies read the book “Computer use for Idiots” when they designed their programs. I can handle (sort of) this “Simon Says” approach to using soft ware.

Last Christmas while I was home on leave my sister **** and I got to talking about computers and how it seems one can’t function in the modern world without one. That seems to becoming truer every day in the Corps as well. She decided that I had to have one so she and her husband **** fronted some money and the search for a computer began. That’s one heck of a Christmas gift. Fortunately, the available choices in the stores was minimal to say the least after the holidays and we were spared the impulse buy.

Once I got back to Southern California I did some research and comparative shopping and was finally ready to make a purchase by mid February. What I got was a Toshiba Satellite 105CS lap top. It has turned out to be more than I really needed for home and office but I think it was actually wise to over-buy in this case.

Mind you, before I bought the “toy” the only thing I knew about computers was that the metal prong thingy at the end of the black cord was meant to be inserted into the wall outlet.

I bought a typing program (Mavis Beacon) to try to improve my non-existent typing skills. So far she has taken me out of the hunt and peck league of ten characters per minute to about ten words per minute. I haven’t been using the tutorial the last few months but now that the op tempo has slowed I can drag it back out. Man, is she unforgiving! Bringing an apple to class doesn’t phase this instructor one bit.

Thank the powers that be for things like spell check, grammar check, format check, etc.…

I have learned the importance of saving all work on back up floppy disks since as to date I have managed to dump my data bases at least three times. I no longer have to take crap from the 90-Day Wonders about turning in hand written reports or rosters. Once I got my platoon database up it has become easier to keep up with the mountain of paper work the Corps creates at all levels.

The next stop on the itinerary was Jeddah, Saudi Arabia in the Red Sea. We were pier side for three days but the liberty was very limited. The visit was more diplomacy than work or pleasure and the Navy was the only ones to receive any training as they did joint ops with the Saudi Navy.

A quick jaunt up the Red Sea and into the Gulf of Aqaba took us to our next destination, which was the Jordanian port city of Aqaba. A neat place to see to put it mildly. From the deck of the ship you can see the countries of Saudi Arabia, Jordan, Egypt, and Israel. Interesting group of bed fellows, don’t you think?

continued...

TracGunny
06-15-04, 09:47 PM
Since Jordan is ninety-eight percent Sunni Muslim and Palestine almost to the person you can imagine that our presence here was ‘tolerated’ at best. I have noticed that the capitalist ideology is indeed world wide and the Jordanians have no problems taking our money and are quite good at finding ways to liberate our cash from us.

I won’t go into the geopolitics of the region since even insiders can’t keep track of it. What I can tell you is that because of Jordan’s relationships (real and perceived) with the Palestine’s, Iraq, and the terrorist groups this is probably the safest place to be, relatively speaking. Never start a fire in your own back yard.

The day after the ship docked we launched the hogs out the back and swam around the pier to a boat landing to get ashore. This method of getting out of the water was much preferred over the original plan of using a crane to pick the hogs up off of the ship’s stern gate and sets them down on the Heavy Equipment Transports (HET’s) waiting on the pier. The idea of my sixty-three thousand pound hogs being suspended in the air thrilled me not at all. The logic that two forty thousand pound straps, one at each end of the hog, combines to make a gross weight capacity of eighty thousand pounds of lift did little to inspire my confidence. It seems that the Jordanian’s weren’t to keen on the idea of my hogs being dropped onto their HET’s either, so the alternate plan was adopted.

The next day we loaded the hogs onto the HET’s and the real adventure began. One of my Marines rode with each HET for security reasons and to be handy if there was a problem and something had to be done with the AAV. I was one of those lucky few to enjoy the two hundred-ten kilometer ride in old, no air conditioned, suspension, what suspension?, diesel truck with the bad exhaust pipe and the heat you feel coming through the floor board ain’t the weather, there’s no fire wall and don’t worry about Abdul over there behind the wheel just because he doesn’t speak English and you don’t understand Arabic and they have a saying over here that they openly admit to that women are for loving and men are for pleasure..., everything will be just fine! Trust me!

On the return trip back to the port I rode the bus.

After nine hours and three pit stops on the side of the road because of mechanical problems my host and I arrived at the training site that is situated eighty kilometers south of Jordan’s capital city Amman. No one has bothered to see how close that put us to the border with Iraq.

Jordan’s part of the Arabian Desert is as about as desolate as deserts get. Not the endless sea of dunes like the Sahara but more like the desert we see around Twenty-Nine Palms, just more arid, if you can believe that.

The place is not void of life by any means. Other than the creatures of man such as dogs, cats, and goats, there were kangaroo rats, snakes, scorpions, birds, numerous (too numerous) insects and something that had the appearance of a coyote. The ever present camel made his/her presence known but the animal’s domestic status makes it hard to give it natural fauna credibility.

Although more scarce than what you will find in the American Southwest, the flora was here to be found and amazingly green considering the climate.

The climate. We were either fooled or seriously teased when we first arrived at the training site because during the day the wind was comfortable and you had to get in the sun and perform manual labor to break a sweat. At night the use of a sleeping bag was mandatory if you wanted to keep the chill off enough to be comfortable when attempting to sleep. We thought that this little camping trip was going to be all right after all.

The unseasonably cool ‘cold snap’ that Jordan was experiencing the first three days in country broke for the border and over night we were reminded why this place is as arid as it is and why they call it a desert.

I will spare you the details of our encounter with the weather since I know I have probably gone over that topic before. Lets just say it got real miserable real fast (yes, but it’s a dry heat! Yeah, right).

The training did not turn out to be what we had expected since the Jordanian’s joined us and the mission changed intent from us sharpening our skills to placating the needs of the Jordanian’s training.

Despite the Marine Expeditionary Unit’s (MEU) and BLT’s total focus of effort towards the Jordanians, my platoon still managed to get in some good live fire and tactics training which helps greatly in our being able to keep our edge.

We put SGT. *****’s skills as a Small Arms Instructor to good use and ran the platoon through a quick kill course firing 5.56 mm rifles and 9 mm pistols. The highlight of the day was when we put the rear crewmen in the back of the hogs and had them engage targets at various ranges while the vehicles moved laterally across the range. It seems to be a rather interesting phenomenon that the Marines from the big city’s performance considerably out shined the others. One would think they either have done this firing from a moving vehicle before or just have an inbred knack for it. Go figure.

Since we only had thirty fragmentation grenades we took the most junior Marines to the pits to toss them. LCPL ******* won the Golden Arm trophy since he was the only one to make the silhouette target in front of his pit disappear after his toss.

The Heavy Guns (.50 cal and 40 mm) shoot went real well. The range went out to 2,000 meters with plenty of targets to engage. The range fan was very narrow so not much in the way of traverse and engage went on but the altitude variations between the gun line and all the targets kept the gunners honest.

LCPL ******, crew chief of 3C304, was the gun NCO for his vehicle. I challenged him to get his crewman, LCPL *********, onto the two thousand meter target using minimal number of bursts. They got the .50 cal on target with the fifth burst, but redeemed themselves by having the 40 mm on the money with the second burst.

With seventy-four 40 mm High Explosive Dual Purpose (HEPD) rounds for the M203 grenade launchers, I made sure my M203 gunners learned their trade. They became quite efficient at engaging targets at ranges varying from one hundred-sixty meters to four hundred-ten meters.

The day was finished off with the Marines learning and practicing firing White Star Parachute (WSP) pop ups (we tend to think everyone knows how to do this, not so!) and loading the Red Phosphorus (RP) smoke grenades in the turrets then deploying the smoke screen.

All in all, it was a good day of training.

continued...

TracGunny
06-15-04, 09:48 PM
The Mechanized Assault Course (MAC) run we did with B 1/4 was a carbon copy of the ones ran out at Twenty-Nine Palms with the noticeable absence of the Coyotes (umpires and controllers) and that we used RP smoke regardless of the fact that Cobras and Harriers were loitering about. The RP grenades put out a heavy white smoke screen and the air support guys use artillery placed white smoke to mark targets for the incoming aircraft. Nothing can be quite as exciting as making yourself look like a target mark for air… but that’s another story…

The FINEX was another PT Barnum production solely for the benefit of diplomacy. Jordan’s Crown Prince graced us with his presence on a hilltop, that miraculously had turned into an oasis over night for his comfort, so that he could observe the US and Jordanian Armed Forces spend lots of money (our money, we picked up the tab for the whole show) shooting up a lot of card board and blowing up a lot of sand. I will agree that it was a pretty impressive one hour display.

I have some definite opinions from my observations of the Jordanian soldiers and leadership, but that is best saved for the next time I’m home and over an after dinner motif and cigar. What I will say is that the next time I hear someone marveling in awe over the prowess’s of the Israeli Army my retort will be well no s**t, look at whom they’ve had for foes the past fifty years!

As soon as the FINEX was completed, the Crown Prince climbed back into his helicopter and headed back to Amman, and the rest of the crowd on VIP hill departed the area, we fired up our hogs and blazed track back to the base camp.

When we arrived, we found out that the time line for the back load had been changed and the HET’s were already on station waiting for us to load up for the return trip to Aqaba. We did a hasty wash down of the outside of the vehicles to get as much of the dust and sand off that we could than drove the hogs onto the HET’s, assigned A-drivers to ride with the vehicles (minus me), piled everyone else onto the waiting bus, and happily settled in for the long ride south.

We had spent eleven days in the desert with showers few and far in between. We had just finished a long day of operating and boarded over thirty-five people onto a bus that had minimal air conditioning if any at all and without the chance to clean up first. I sat in my seat and kept laughing to myself each time I wondered what the bus driver must think of these American infidels and their hygiene habits. None of us cared, we were heading ‘home’.

Another observation of mine is that whether it is considered an art or a science the Jordanians have not quite grasped the concept of road construction.

The AAV’s were loaded back on board the ship without incident and the ship set sail to face the next part of our journey, thus ending our adventure in the land of TE Lawrence. Thanks be…

My only regret is that I passed up one chance and lost the second one to go see the ruins at Petra.

If you were to ask any of the common soldiery out here what the greatest accomplishment achieved was during this training evolution, it wouldn’t be any diplomatic benefits gained with the Jordanians, it would be that the completion of this FEX marked the passing of the half way mark of this deployment. I would have to agree, eight trips out here has definitely dulled my enthusiasm to make any more return trips to the Arabian Desert. I have got to check into where the floats out of Lejeune are going these days. Don’t get me wrong, float is still highly preferred over the Unit Deployment Program (UDP) to Okinawa.

To give you an idea of what is important out here I shall relate to you one of the events that took place earlier during this trip. At 10:00 a.m. one morning a ribbon cutting ceremony was held to inaugurate the installation of two new air conditioning units (AC’s) on the mess deck. Noticeable Celebes attending; Ship’s Captain and XO, Commander Of Troops (COT) and his XO, and various LDOs, LCPOs, and LPOs. The Ship’s Chaplain read the benediction. After evening meal there was cake and ice cream in celebration of the installation of the two new air conditioning units on the mess deck. During his nightly evening prayer just before Taps that night, the Chaplain asked blessings for not only everyone involved in installing the two new air conditioners on the mess deck, but for the two new air conditioners on the mess deck as well. Hey, we have our priorities straight around here! Either that or it didn’t take much to excite us anymore.

I never should have said a word about escaping the African continent this WestPac, for most assuredly Mr. Murphy and his dominion of gremlins were listening. After pulling out of Aqaba we went straight to Djibouti for fuel. Instead of anchoring out as we had the first time we passed through here it was necessary to pull in and dock. The antiquated gear available at the fueling facilities to pump the fuel ensured that there was plenty of time for the Lieutenant to take the platoon ashore for Physical Training (PT) on the pier. The locals were impressed by our ability to run in step, clap our hands in unison, and count to four as a group. Once I loosened up I was OK, and I have to admit the platoon did look and sound good cruising through the ware houses. Since Mr. Murphy found a way to get me to Africa I shall take no further chances and say nothing else on the subject that might inspire Mr. M to other acts of mischief.

I’m not sure what the deal is with the Indian Ocean and rough seas but it did seem to be the norm out here this time of year. The number of sick call attendees had jumped proportionately with the sea state. I sent a few of my Marines out of the well deck since their skin complexion had begun to match the color of their T-shirts (green). The only real concern I had with these Wogs was dehydration. People tend not to drink fluids when their tummy’s are upset which is never a good thing especially in the temperatures we were currently experiencing.

I opened a can of worms the one day when I asked the platoon to tell me what their plans are for when we chop back to 3d AA Bn after this deployment. I got the usual responses across the board. The short timers want to go hide on the Fleet Assistance Program (FAP) until their End of Active Service (EAS), the junior married Marines want to go hide in H&S Company and avoid further deployments, and you can probably guess how many dog catchers, game wardens, and 21 Area gym manager wanna-be’s disguised as Amtrac-er’s there are in the platoon. You should have seen the dream list in its original conception. It actually had a rather high entertainment value.

continued...

TracGunny
06-15-04, 09:51 PM
After I explained things like going to H&S Company means MCM (Mobility/Counter Mobility) platoon which means one might as well transfer to Twenty-Nine Palms and 3d AA Bn will ensure that you make your second pump regardless, and other realities affecting first term Marines with enough time to pump out again whether with C Company or elsewhere, the dream list did a self edit. I have titled this fanciful list as 3d platoon’s “life after WestPac” dreams.

I got the lid back on that can of worms and won’t touch it again until I rejoin 3d AA Bn next November.

We received the message on the 1996 Staff Sergeant Selection Board and have determined that three of our Sergeants have a shot at being selected for promotion. Returning to 3d AA Bn with two Gunnies and five Staff Sergeants would not be an unpleasant situation for me to find myself in.

Before I forget to mentioned it, ***** *****, our 1st Section Leader, was selected to be promoted to Gunnery Sergeant and pinned on his second rocker on 1 August. Just like my last float, the platoon will return with one more Gunny than it had left with last April.

I put in a remedial promotion package to get one of my Marines, CPL ******, promoted to Sergeant for the month of July. I thought he had missed the cutting score for promotion because his forty points for getting two warm bodies to enlist while on Recruiter Assistance hadn’t posted. The Command Recruiter Bonus had posted, what hadn’t posted was his rifle score from last October. We got 1/4 PerSo (Personnel Officer) to square that away. Yesterday I received my copy of the message from 1/4 PerSo to CMC (Commandant Marine Corps) requesting permission to remedially promote CPL ****** to Corporal. That was not a typographical error. CPL CPL ****** now had two DORs (Date Of Rank) to the rank of corporal. 1ST SGT ********(B Co. BLT 1 / 4 1ST SGT) and I did a major leap-ex trying to correct this error before someone at CMC or Kansas City decides that the new DOR is the correct one and that CPL CPL ****** owes some serious back pay to make up for all that E-4 money he was ‘falsely’ making before hand. We just recently received confirmation the correction was made and we can promote ****** to sergeant.

...And the hits just keep on coming…

One other little tidbit of information I have probably forgotten to tell you about is that we can receive e-mail on the ship. I know its a little late in the game but just in case you want to get a message to me quickly (in less than a week) or just feel like playing around on the modem, my e-mail address is: DULUTH@INCOM.NET SUBJECT: GYSGT ARMSTRONG

It will cost me $1.00 to pick up each message since there is some obscure regulation that won’t allow the Morale, Welfare, and Recreation (MWR) fund to pick up the tab. The only draw back is that the ship can’t send out e-mail, which I think is for reasons other than equipment capabilities.

I ran into a problem with my ‘toy’, quite a few of the keys mysteriously quit functioning but I guess it would be rather silly of me to tell you that the computer has been fixed. It seems the wiring ribbon that runs from the keyboard to the processor was or became loose causing certain keys not to function properly. Fortunately, the resident fix-it guru on ship was able to reconnect it without tampering with anything that might have voided the warranty. This is all a very good thing since the week starting with the computer acting up turned into a very frustrating time for the platoon as well as myself. The weather, less than quality liberty, and the impatience to get this deployment over with seemed to have peaked at this time.

We completed the end sweep around the Arabian peninsula and transited the Straight of Hormuz into the steam bath commonly referred to as the Persian Gulf to begin what had to be our sentence of penitence for every little and large transgression we may have committed over our life times. To call that place Hell during the summer months is considered defamatory to Hell.

One might be of the opinion that I would have had enough of this place six years ago when I received the opportunity to hang out for eight months and one would be right. The name of these deployments should be changed from WestPac’s to Mid-East Cruise since we only stay in the western pacific long enough to get through it and two-thirds of the deployment seems to be spent in South West Asia (SWA). The thought of going to Okinawa had started to become more appealing to me than going out on floats, which is scary. I absolutely, positively, must find out what Lejeune is up to!

I plan to re-enlist on 11 October for a total of four years. That will put me nine months over the twenty year mark for retirement purposes and over twenty-two years of total service. My time spent in the Reserves comes back to haunt me again. The approval hasn’t come back from Headquarters Marine Corps (HQMC) as to whether or not I can carry on with my plans or if they have plans of their own for my future. The answer better come soon since my End of Current Contract is 17 October. I could be getting off the ship at Pendleton as a civilian. Know any one in the market looking to hire a former Jarhead?

There isn’t really anything important about the date of 11 October other than the fact that I’ll be in Pearl Harbor and I thought it would be appropriate to do what may be my last re-enlistment on the USS Arizona Memorial. I understand that it is done quite often and is a worthy experience.

My immediate goal upon returning to California is to attend the Advance Staff Noncommissioned Officer’s Course (Adv SNCO Course) to get caught up on my Professional Military Education (PME) and than to put in an Administrative Action (AA) request form for Permanent Change of Station (PCS) orders to the east coast. I will have a better idea as to where on the east coast after I get a chance to talk to my MOS Monitor in CMC and find out what’s available.

It seems I digressed just a touch off of the original narrative. Then again, this whole letter seems like a digression.

Our first stop in the Persian Gulf was Manamah, Bahrain, an island nation just off the coast of Saudi Arabia. The only reason this place is on the map is because of the oil reserves found under the ground. Not as much as their neighbors but enough to get noticed. They were at least smart enough to invest their money in business adventures other than oil so as their reserves run out they won’t slip back into the stone age.

continued...

TracGunny
06-15-04, 09:52 PM
We experienced some of the hottest, muggiest days yet while pier side, absolutely miserable! The ship decided that to increase the effectiveness of the AC’s they needed to bring the AC’s off line for cleaning and repair. At night the temperatures in the Marine’s berthing would lower down to a balmy 107 degrees. The Marines slept outside on the upper decks in the attempt to get at least a little rest and reprieve from the heat. That met with varying degrees of success. I went up to the O-2 level at 0200 to get some air and by just standing outside the sweat rolled off me in a torrential flood. It is a sad state when you have to instruct the fire watch to check everyone in their bunk for heat related illnesses – there have been Marines suffering from heat exhaustion in heir sleep!

The powers that be surprised us with an unscheduled exercise called Rugged Nautilus the third day in port causing us to recall every one back to ship and to get underway. We left with every one on board and steamed around in circles for three days while the Navy did what ever it was they were doing to play out what ever scenario it was that they had to play. Not an exciting time for the Marines.

We got back into port and finished out our stay without further interruptions and with no loss of tears when it was time to leave.

We completed Operation Red Reef with the Saudis that involved two rehearsal launches and one landing. Diplomacy time again as we landed without the grunts on our hogs, met up with some Saudi forces, showed them the hogs, and took them for rides. We were on shore for eight hours which was enough time for us and Alpha Company 1/4 who had sent a platoon ashore with us on Zodiacs to have one case of heat stroke, two cases of heat exhaustion, and five other heat related injuries. All those Marines were fine but we had just begun playing in this part of the world and the next time we went ashore would be for several days not hours. No one was looking forward to that little party.

That party began two days later. We stayed busy by making the necessary preparations to man and machine in hopes that both would survive with minimum breakdowns and limited wear. It never ceases to amaze me how much preparation goes in to getting the platoon ready for FEX’s. It is definitely a little more involved than planning and packing for one’s vacation. How the heck I came up with using vacation in an analogy with this place I have no idea. I probably got it because I sure could use a vacation right about now, perhaps some place with tree covered hills, quiet neighbors, cool temperatures,…

The only draw back to visiting a place fitting that description is that I may not want to leave. At this point in time I’m more than willing to take that chance.

The quote of the month was heard at the Kuwaiti 6th Brigade Camp located sixty kilometers west of downtown Kuwait City; “This isn’t Hell, Hell is five degrees cooler and they have Women there…”

It wasn’t the typical beginning for us to start our FEX, Eager Mace, in Kuwait since the muddy condition and extremely shallow water of the beach approach made our normal entrance onto the stage impossible. It was decided to get the AAV’s ashore by way of Landing Craft Air Cushioned (LCAC). There was no way the LCAC could fit into the well deck with fifteen AAV’s so half of the platoon swam over to the USS Rushmore and loaded from there. The LCAC can only transport two AAV’s at a time so it took almost six hours to get the entire platoon on to shore. I was impressed with the LCAC’s ability to still do over fifty miles per hour even with one hundred twenty-six thousand pounds-plus of gear on their deck. The problem was the distance that had to be traveled and the amount of time needed for on loading and off loading. In the end, it meant that our operating began in the heat of the day.

It seems everyone had learned their lesson during Red Reef about how much water was needed to be consumed just to survive. Even with the water cans being kept out of the sun the water became at least equal to the air temperature and became known as Kuwaiti Tea. Buy a bottle of mineral water and heat it up to between 130-140 degrees and you’ll have a good idea of what our daily fare had been for that two weeks.

The initial FEX only lasted for two and a half days with us ending up at the 6th Brigade Camp. The Marines of B Co 1/4 were more than happy to get away from riding in the back of the hogs (how do you like your meat broiled, well done?).

Two examples that can clear the censors have come up to describe the conditions in Kuwait in August, the first is to set your oven on broil, let it heat up to temperature, then put your face directly in front of the door as you crack it open. The second is to get about thirty heavy duty industrial strength hair dryers and place them in the bathroom on the highest setting possible. Then set the water heater on high, turn on the shower (hot water only) and hang out in the bathroom for a couple of days. Kids, don’t try this at home without parental supervision!

The stay at the Camp was spent doing maintenance on the hogs and spending one day at the local range firing M-16’s and other small arms. The barracks was in disrepair and only offered minimal relief from the desert. The mess hall served heated tray rations (T-Rats) which is nothing more than souped-up MRE’s and the plumbing was so poor that we kept running out of water. The commodes were so ineffective that you couldn’t put the toilet paper in it because it wouldn’t flush. Plastic bags were hung in each stall for the collection of paper, which was a nice touch since only clear bags were available. More than once we hand loaded the tanks with water just to be able to flush the days contents down before it became a health hazard. The Chemical attack warning sensors could not be set up down wind from the heads because they kept giving false alarms. The water tanks are on top of the barracks so you can imagine how refreshing the showers were after a day spent working in the sun (Not!). We think the barracks was air conditioned but that is still up to debate.

We left the Brigade Camp and headed out to the Udairi Range to do some live fire with the .50 cal MG’s along with the grunts. It was a night move so at least we were spared the heat and sun for that thirty-five kilometer evolution. The shoot went well and it is always impressive at how much fire power fifteen AAV’s along with a company of grunts being supported by 60 mm and 81 mm mortars, a 155 mm arty battery, AV-8B Harriers, along with Cobra and Huey gunships can put down range in a very short period of time.

It was back to the Brigade Camp for another stay with the consolation of at least being able to move into a wing of the barracks that had a fairly effective AC that made it possible to sleep without sweating.

The last three days of our two week stay in Satin’s living room was spent at Camp Doha near Downtown Kuwait. This was a major milestone for the platoon because we started and completed the final wash down of the vehicles and gear for the agricultural inspection to re-enter the United States. Before Political Correctness invaded the D.O.D. we used to call it ‘de-snailing’. It was a long, hot process but the Lad’s busted butt and accomplished the job ahead of schedule. Doha has a good facility for washing but the asphalt and concrete surroundings meant we left Satin’s living room and took up residence in his kitchen. That was a very long three days and it was a great sensation to see the well deck of the Duluth once again.

continued...

TracGunny
06-15-04, 09:55 PM
Shortly after we got the last hog on board and tied down, the Duluth set sail to continue the odyssey.

Our next port of call was Jebel Ali, United Arab Emirates (UAE). Jebel Ali was a working port so that the Navy could get in some maintenance on the ship. We put a half day of work in on the hogs down in the well deck before cutting loose for the day.

It seems that last year the 11th Marine Expeditionary Unit (MEU) had their Marine Corps Ball here and there was a little misunderstanding as to who was going to pick up the tab. The MEU thought the local Emirate was throwing the party in honor of the Marines and as far as said Emirate is concerned the MEU skipped town on a $10,000 bill! The end result is that we are being treated to pier side libo only.

That pier side libo included three clubs that were within the port compound, the Sea Farer’s, Met, and Pirate’s club, and a vender arcade set up on the pier next to where all three ships of the Amphibious Ready Group (ARG) were tied up in a row together. The arcade included a beer garden that provided its wares at a buck a pop. The animals had a field day with that. The clubs were considerably more expensive and a pain in the butt to get to and from, so the arcade became a popular place. I heard that after the first night the shore patrol in the arcade area was upped from fifteen to twenty-five NCO/PO’s to deal with the over exuberant partiers.

The beer was bought by the MEU and resold to us as a fundraiser. The last night in port saw the price drop to $0.25 a can as the MEU had to unload it all before getting underway. US Naval ships are forbidden by regulations to transport large quantities of alcoholic libations at sea unless written permission is granted by the Fleet Admiral. It is rare and far in-between that an Admiral will do that and I don’t think the MEU would have had a good enough case (pun?) to persuade the Admiral to allow it this time. Judging from the condition of seventy-five percent of the ship’s company the next morning the effort to unload all the beer must have been a success. I heard that the medical department is still out of aspirin. Strange, I thought the Corps was trying to play down alcohol use.

Believe it or not, it is rare if ever that I drink while deployed. That professional ethics thing again. When I do drink it is never like you’ve seen me party in the past. I just won’t do that in front of the Lads. They definitely do not need to see “The Gunny” get that stupid. I’ve said it before that when I’m on duty around the Marines and when I’m off away from them is truly a Dr Jekyl/Mr Hyde routine. When I’m deployed as far as I’m concerned I am always on duty. One thing that means is I’m a real cheap date when I first return home from deployments. The actions and behavior of the Marines and Sailors to include a number of my peers meant that I couldn’t wait to get underway and put this place behind us.

The drinking age on all stateside US military bases for the consumption of any alcoholic beverage is now 21, I’m waiting for them to extend that to include all military personnel overseas as well.

The weather while in port was more of the same, very hot and since we were sitting on the water, very humid! Even the smokers curtailed their habit since the only place to smoke is outside up on the O-2 level. The deck on the O-2 is painted with a nonskid paint that is black, of all colors. The O-2 level is located behind the highest part of the ship’s superstructure and that acts like a very effective wind break. The conditions on that deck were bad enough during the day to almost convince a lot of smokers to quit. It was just about not worth the torture to go up there to have a cigarette. We all braved the weather and stuck it out.

One of the factors that added to the enjoyment of being on this ship while in the Gulf is the fact that at least ninety percent of the top surface of all outside decks are painted with the black nonskid. The rest of the ship is painted haze grey. The Navy has the concept of a solar oven down to a science.

The ship departed Jebel Ali the morning of 1 September at 0700 as scheduled and started heading out to rendezvous with the rest of the ARG and escort ships for the transit out of the Gulf through the Straight of Hormuz. We all believed that true happiness would be the Straight of Hormuz in the rear view mirror.

Approximately four hours later the inevitable happened.

While in port in Jebel Ali we had access to real-time news and information so we knew what was going on in northern Iraq between the Iraqis and the Kurds. We didn’t think much of it until we heard Clinton’s warning to So-damn Insane, that’s when we started to pay close attention to daily current events. Is not CNN a marvelous thing?

As I said, we were four hours closer to finally getting to see the Straight of Hormuz in the rear view mirror when the ship’s Captain came over the Ship’s intercom system (called the 1-MC) to announce that we were doing a U-turn and heading back up towards Kuwait to await further instructions.

That made it my second WestPac in a row that So-damn’s antics had thrown a wrench into our schedule. Last ‘Pac we had to pull out of the middle of a Field Exercise (FEX) in UAE when the Republican Guard made threatening moves toward Kuwait’s boarder. That little stunt kept us in a modified location (mod-loc) off of Kuwait for ten days and cost us the chance to go to Australia.

All the scuttlebutt flowing around was pure speculation, as usual. I suspected it would be several days before we got enough gouge to be able to make an educated guess as to what would lie in store for us in the near future.

Shortly after entering the Gulf last month I came to the conclusion that if I ever became a fanatical lobbyist for a special interest group it would be to champion an alternative non-fossil fuel. Then the middle east would lose it’s importance and there would be no reason to send MEU’s up into the Gulf and we could play in other, perhaps more hospitable areas of the world. The Islamic fundamentalist could pull the entire region back into the twelfth century and no one would really care, with the possible exception of the Israelis.

When So-damn pulled off his latest stunt and we turned around to stay in the Gulf I had a new vision. The answer could be as easy as just getting rid of So-damn. I thought about that for a while and decided that wouldn’t work because of Iran and all the other idiots in this part of the world. I guess it’s back to being the fanatical lobbyist.

We were glad to see the U.S. response take place as quick as it did. After the Tomahawks struck we believed it wouldn’t be long until we would get some indication of our time line stuck floating around holding mod-loc.

Mod-loc can be a particularly nasty thing. The ship held a line in the middle of the Gulf six thousand yards long and no wider than the ship’s turning radius. She maintained about two knots which is just enough speed to keep positive steering control. That speed does not stir up much of a breeze to counter the sun baking the hull of the ship or our skulls.

continued...

TracGunny
06-15-04, 09:56 PM
The AC has to be a study in planned design failure. It uses the chilled water concept. The object is to take sea water that is in obvious abundant supply and pump it around to the ship’s six AC’s to cool the air being pumped in from outside. The flaw seems to lie in the fact that some parts of the world have air temperatures in excess of 110 degrees and water temperatures in excess of 96. One of the greatest driving forces behind our desire to depart the Gulf was to get into cooler water. Everyone by this time would have appreciated a night of rest without going to sleep or waking up sweating.

The morning of 5 September at approximately 0900, the word was passed to chop out of mod-loc and to proceed back on schedule. That word came almost exactly ninety-six hours after the Skipper announced our extended stay in the Gulf. The platoon was in the well deck carrying out the normal routine when the Skipper passed the word over the ship’s 1-MC. To say that the levity in the well deck instantly jumped tenfold may be an understatement. It seems to do wonders for a unit’s morale to be heading home (again). Everyone kept conspicuously mute about showing to much pleasure or talking in high expectations of leaving the Gulf and going home. No one wanted to risk alerting Murphy and his gremlins.

Caution and the respect for Murphy kept us from packing away our desert duds and pulling out the green suits until we chopped from Commander Fifth Fleet (C5F) and attached to C7F. C5F is attached to Central Command (CENTCOM) in the middle east and C7F runs the Pacific theater and is Head Quartered out of Hawaii. The next positive sign that we were watching for that would indicate that we were really heading home was joining C7F.

It seems that our entire involvement in Operation Southern Strike was nothing more than sitting in the middle of the Gulf doing circles. Is not mod-loc a marvelous thing?

We were scheduled to stop in Manila, Philippines and Hong Kong for four days each before hitting Hawaii on the way back to San Diego. While transiting to Manila the ship was going to drop below the equator so that all the ‘Wogs’ could be transformed into ‘Trusty Shell Backs’ during Wog day.

Our extended stay has cost us Wog Day and what may be my last chance to see Hong Kong since the Chinese will take it over in July ‘97. We will be in Manila 19 September for a total of five days of liberty. From there we will head straight to Pearl Harbor and then home to San Diego. Our goal of landing in Pendleton on 18 October has not changed. Is not So-damn Insane a marvelous guy?

At about 11:30 a.m. on 6 September the Straight of Hormuz finally appeared in the rear view mirror. As we entered the Gulf of Oman there was a slight but noticeable difference in the temperatures. The berthing areas had cooled off just enough to make it possible to lie down without sweating and for some people to get a decent rest. The seas were still as calm as a bathtub and the ship’s forward motion kept a pleasant breeze blowing across the deck.

What a tremendous difference twenty-four hours made in conditions on ship! On 7 September with the waters of the Arabian Sea passing under the hull the ship cooled off dramatically. Even life in the well deck had become bearable and unless one was conducting strenuous activities one could move around without torrential sweating.

We kept receiving more positive signs that the ship was heading in the right direction. The sun rose in front of the bow and set aft of the stern. The time kept advancing one hour as we crossed time zones. The seas had cooled off considerably allowing the ship to also cool off. At night the berthing areas chilled off enough to cause some people to dust off their blankets for use. The seas no longer resembled a bath tub and began to rock the ship gently (at first) in a slight swell. The ship began to get free wash downs as she passed through scattered rain squalls (rain!?!). On 8 September we chopped from C5F and joined C7F. On the 9th we packed away the desert camouflage gear and pulled out the green.

The most noticeable change that had occurred since leaving the Gulf was that everyone’s tempers had cooled off along with the weather. The change in attitude throughout the ship was phenomenal. There is always a considerable amount of euphoria when an ARG starts heading home but because of where we were and when we were there coupled with the delay in leaving appeared to of had a magnifying effect on the feeling felt by all hands this time around. I don’t remember the crew on the USS Cayuga LST 1186 being this giddy when we left Somalia (WestPac ‘93) even though there was a two week delay in getting home.

The Indian Ocean (IO) surprised us by keeping quite well behaved while we made our transit across her on the west side of India. We figured she was setting us up for something big once we rounded the southern tip of India crossing through the Laccadive Sea and entering the Bay of Bengal. Not wanting to take any chances we had gone through all of our areas and made sure everything was tied down tight. Playing “rodeo” and trying to lasso gear adrift being propelled by a ship tossed on high seas was something I wanted to leave as memories from WestPac’s past.

We made it around India and through the Bay of Bengal without encountering rough seas. It seems the IO decided to show us the other side of her personality. The winds and seas had picked up but the ride wasn’t bad at all. At least it was nothing like what we saw on the way out at the beginning of the ‘Pac. The Straight of Malacca was the usual calm refuge from the ocean’s tempest and if not for having lost one of the ship’s boilers we expected quick passage to the other side. The boiler was repaired in twenty-four hours and we spent a day or two playing catch-up to the rest of the ARG.

We all feel that the IO treated us so well just to set us up for our trip through the South China Sea and the rest of the Pacific. We kept an eye on the weather reports and tracked the numerous storms in both areas. The typhoon out over the Marianas had our full attention since it was still unknown which track she would take. Someone mentioned that it would be just our luck if the storm moved into the Philippines denying us our port of call there. The lad who made that comment was instantly mobbed for that comment, Murphy does well enough on his own without someone giving him ideas.

continued...

TracGunny
06-15-04, 09:58 PM
Our luck with the weather held as we passed through the South China Sea. The ride stayed smooth and we kept receiving much appreciated rain showers. We will continue to monitor the weather to try to get some idea of what’s in store for us when we make the two week transit from Manila to Hawaii.

Tomorrow we pull in to Manila. I never liked the Philippines, too damn decadent. Back in the ‘80s when the US Military had a strong presence there, I would stay on base to avoid the prostitution and swindlers that occupied every corner and bar. There was no reason to go into town except to either get drunk or laid, or both. The Lady’s of the Evening were very aggressive and unrelenting in offering their services. There are those among us who subscribe to the philosophy that there is no such thing as being married west of the International Date Line and get tans where their wedding bands use to protect their skin. I hated the hassles and could not take watching what the greed for the ol’ mighty dollar had done to these people’s dignity and pride, and it shamed me to see my fellow servicemen and women taking full advantage of them. You name it, it was available. Everything from child prostitution to any and every perversion you could possible think of was attainable. The only requirement was that your money had to be good. The place totally disgusted me. We could skip this stop and I wouldn’t complain one bit.

Word is coming in that since the US pulled out of the Philippines it has really changed. Supposedly they have cleaned up their act to include the houses of ill repute in an effort to draw business and tourist. We shall see.

I have had no problems keeping busy during the transit home. Once we left Jebel Ali there were only nineteen ‘work days’ left until we would pull into Hawaii and the systematic inspection and preparation of the hogs and gear must be completed by then. I also had to take care of all my personal administrative correspondences to my ‘business’ interests to assure that my pending change of address was noted. That part had to be done and in the mail before we departed from Manila. Huck Finns’ storage needed to be informed that I plan to pick up the Neon the afternoon of 18 October. All of you that I consider my ‘California Family’ deserved the courtesy of being for-warned of my pending return so that ya’ll can take what ever damage control preventive measures deemed necessary.

I will have 70.5 days of earned leave on the books when I return and plan to take ten days at the end of October but will stay in the Oceanside area to settle back in. That will leave sixty days of earned leave on the books plus the thirty days I will earn next fiscal year to plan winter and summer vacations. If I play my cards right and Mr. Murphy behaves I should be able to spend time with my Florida family at both of their places of residence in ‘97.

I may or may not have told you that my Parents bought a “summer home” in the hills of North Carolina. I think it was my Mom’s idea since Dad retired and one of his favorite hobbies is home improvement. He has probably done all there is to be done on the place in Florida and the new place will keep him busy and therefore out from under her feet.

My second older sister ***** visited my parents in their North Carolina retreat and sent me a couple of post cards talking about the weather being in the 60’s at night and in the 70’s during the day. Considering my current location I think envy is the proper word to describe my reaction to that little bit of information.

The Lieutenant got a letter from Capt **** who is our CO at C Co 3d AABn. They are currently in Okinawa doing a tour on UDP and will return a month after we get back. In his letter the Captain mentioned the company’s leave plan for the Christmas holidays. I plan to be back in Florida for the holidays somewhere between 14 and 29 December. That means I’ll be in California for the New Year.

As the ship and our thoughts turn towards home all that remains is to get the Marines and equipment back into shape for the home coming. My goal is to have everything ready before we reach Hawaii, because I know little will be accomplished once we depart Pearl Harbor and make the final run to San Diego.

The time is quickly passing by as we get closer to Pendleton. Before we know it we will be standing the Battalion Commander’s post deployment inspection and rejoining 3d AA Bn. Then we get to start the whole thing over again. It seems that life in the Corps has no beginning and no ending, just a continuous circle that repeats forever.

As of now we should return to Camp Pendleton the morning of 18 October and I should be on leave from 26 October until 4 November. Like I said I plan to stay in the Oceanside area to settle back in and deal with a certain Navy Lieutenant neighbor who seems to have this thing against cats. Strange, he waited until after I had left before complaining that my cat was using his yard as a litter box and threatening to call Animal Control. My friend ***** has given the little fur ball safe haven until my return.

There you have it, all of my doings for the past eight months or so. I hope you found some entertainment value in it. Sorry if the thought process seemed a little fragmented; my mind tends to work that way. I hope that I did not repeat myself too often. I hope that I did not repeat myself too often.

I hope this letter finds you in excellent health in mind, body, and spirit. My best to all and until later,