thedrifter
10-14-05, 04:14 AM
After 20 years of serving his country...
as a Marine, man comes home to serve his town
By Emily Clark
The Coast Star
On Aug. 30, Brielle resident James Csogi retired from a 20-year career with the United States Marine Corps as a staff sergeant and said goodbye to what had become his way of life.
Mr. Csogi, now 38, enlisted when he was 17 years old, then headed off from his hometown of Lawrenceville to boot camp at Parris Island, S.C. at the age of 18.
Mr. Csogi said he joined the military partly because of the Marines' reputation as the elite military fighting force.
"The Marines was the Marines." he said. "And everybody knows they have the best uniforms," he added with a laugh.
The Marine Corps was also something of a tradition in Mr. Csogi's family. Several of his uncles were Marines and his father was affiliated with the Marines through the Marine Corps Scholarship Fund. At the time, Mr. Csogi said he figured he would do four years in the Marines and then start college.
He did not know it then, but college would wait forever. In the next two decades, Mr. Csogi's life in the Marines would, instead, take him across the country, then around the globe, introduce him to his future wife, provide health and other benefits for their three daughters and deliver him into the heart of both Gulf wars.
Mr. Csogi's first deployment after boot camp - an experience he described as "13 weeks of hell" - was at a base in Japan, where another New Jersey native, 18-year-old Barbara Cain, was also stationed. Born in Point Pleasant and raised in Brielle, Ms. Cain also had a partly family-oriented motive for joining the military - she admired her own Marine father. And, like Mr. Csogi, she saw the Marines as the best decision she could make at the time. She knew she did not want to go to college, but she said, outside of that conviction, "I had no idea what I wanted to do."
In the unfamiliar, far-off country, the two young Jersey natives formed a common bond through their shared references and culture.
"We knew what the other one was talking about, where the same things were," the now-Mrs. Csogi, 35, explained. The two decided to get married just four months after meeting.
"We proved them wrong," Mr. Csogi said. "Sixteen years later, still married."
Their wedding certificate, written in Japanese characters, hangs on the living-room wall of their Brielle home.
Asked how they make their marriage work, Mr. Csogi cited old-fashioned "give-and-take." Mrs. Csogi laughed, "That's such a cliche," but didn't disagree. She noted that they both are very sarcastic.
Mrs. Csogi added that the couple has only spent 11 or 12 years out of their 16-year marriage together. She said, ironically, the periods of separation are good for their relationship. "You're always looking forward to seeing the other person," she said.
Still, Mr. Csogi said the time separated from his family "took its toll."
During the first Gulf War, Mr. Csogi was away for nine solid months, and in the second, seven months. Because of security issues, rapid repositioning of his unit and logistical difficulties, the family sometimes went weeks without hearing from Mr. Csogi or knowing where he was. Asked how she coped during such times, Mrs. Csogi responded, "We went on with life the best we could. The busier I kept, the easier it was."
During the second Gulf War, Mrs. Csogi said news was even harder to come by. "I had to beg, borrow and steal to get information on his unit." She said that the military "could work on" its communication with families.
"I got more information from the news," Mrs. Csogi said, but found that insufficient and sometimes too upsetting. "I don't think the media takes into consideration who could be watching."
Mrs. Csogi also credited "a very good support system" provided by their family for helping her family and their marriage through these difficult times. Mr. Csogi said divorce is common in the Marines, except among those who are married to other Marines or former Marines. He said it is necessary for a Marine's spouse to understand first-hand what their partner's work is like.
Mrs. Csogi does understand what it is like to sacrifice for the Marines. Six weeks after the birth of their first daughter, Kaitlin, Mrs. Csogi returned to duty to finish out her four-year enlistment term, placing Kaitlin in day care. Two years later, she gave birth to their second daughter, Courtney, only to return to duty again.
"I hated leaving them," Mrs. Csogi said. When she finished her four-year commitment, having risen to the rank of lance corporeal, she did not re-enlist.
"She wanted to be a mom," Mr. Csogi said.
Mr. Csogi's career took the family from Japan to Hawaii to North Carolina and finally back to New Jersey. He said his daughters got good at packing. Mrs. Csogi said she admired her three daughters for being "flexible" and "friendly" in a way that has allowed them to adapt to each new location.
"I give them credit," she said. "I lived in the same house and went to the same schools my whole life."
Kaitlin, now 15, swims and plays lacrosse. Courtney, 13, plays soccer and is a cheerleader. Kelly is about to turn 9 and enjoys sailing.
Mr. Csogi said the best part of retirement is relaxing and spending time with his family.
"I walk Kelly to school in the morning. I pick [Kaitlin] and her friends up from school." He also makes time to referee high-school soccer.
But "relaxing" to Mr. Csogi does not preclude active participation in his community. Residents might have seen Mr. Csogi last Saturday evening directing traffic at the corner of Higgins Avenue and Highway 35 during the black-out. He was there in his capacity as a member of Brielle's Fire Police, which he joined last year. And last month, he become a member of the first aid squad as well.
"I think it's time to give back to the community for all the support they've given me and our family," Mr. Csogi said.
Among the many gestures of support the Csogis received, one of the biggest was the shipment of over 70 boxes packed with donations and sent to Mr. Csogi and his unit while he was in Iraq this year from January to June. The donation-gathering was coordinated and based at the Brielle Fire Department, who adopted Mr. Csogi's unit. The funds for the postage were gathered from Leggett's Sand Bar patrons during Bud Bingo.
At the time he was receiving the fruits of his town's generosity in weekly, five-box installments, Mr. Csogi was living outside the town of Al-Numania in "a fighting hole," which was 6-by-6-by-4-feet large and dug into an Iraqi farmer's field. He added that to thwart attack they had to switch holes every four to six hours.
Mr. Csogi said the farmer, like himself, had three daughters. Mr. Csogi, who'd been taught "enough Arabic to get along," shared some of the candy he had been sent with the farmer's little girls. In return, the Iraqi family gave him food and flowers they had grown on their land.
Mr. Csogi, who supervised motor transport as a platoon sergeant, said once the combat engineers got the water and the electricity running, in the downtime between the work of logistics and convoy operations, "we actually ended up building a park for the kids" beside the farmer's field. They used old materials, such as tires, to make swings and other playground equipment for the children.
Despite the friendships and lighter moments, the war was still a war, dangerous and uncertain. Mr. Csogi and the 27 men under his command risked their lives daily to make supply runs and secure bridges. During one month, he said, "We'd be in a fire fight every day for at least 20 to 30 minutes," as they passed through the area where the Tigris and Euphrates rivers meet, ominously dubbed "Ambush Alley" by the American soldiers.
Still, Mr. Csogi is optimistic about the fate of Iraq, estimating that the violent insurgency is coming from only 10 percent of Iraqis. Of the other 90 percent, he said, "they want us there."
He likened the ongoing conflict to a gang war. "We have gangs here. They have gangs there."
Mr. Csogi said that in the U.S., however, there is a transparent justice system in place which deters crime. Here "there are consequences," he said. "Over there, they do it because they can." Mr. Csogi believes that once Iraq is better structured, the insurgency will decline.
Wars, international travel, a thriving family. What's next for the Csogis?
"I have to go get a job," Mr. Csogi said, grinning. "You definitely don't join [the Marines] for the pay." He said the time off these last six weeks has been nice, but he is eager to start his next career, likely in security, law enforcement or logistics - in other words, something not unlike his work in the Marines.
Mr. Csogi said that after the Marines, "I don't think you'll ever become a civilian totally. You're disciplined. You're always on time."
Mrs. Csogi said her husband was used to getting weekly hair cuts in the military.
Mr. Csogi nodded, smiling but serious. "I just cut back to one every two weeks."
His wife laughed, "It kills him."
Ellie
as a Marine, man comes home to serve his town
By Emily Clark
The Coast Star
On Aug. 30, Brielle resident James Csogi retired from a 20-year career with the United States Marine Corps as a staff sergeant and said goodbye to what had become his way of life.
Mr. Csogi, now 38, enlisted when he was 17 years old, then headed off from his hometown of Lawrenceville to boot camp at Parris Island, S.C. at the age of 18.
Mr. Csogi said he joined the military partly because of the Marines' reputation as the elite military fighting force.
"The Marines was the Marines." he said. "And everybody knows they have the best uniforms," he added with a laugh.
The Marine Corps was also something of a tradition in Mr. Csogi's family. Several of his uncles were Marines and his father was affiliated with the Marines through the Marine Corps Scholarship Fund. At the time, Mr. Csogi said he figured he would do four years in the Marines and then start college.
He did not know it then, but college would wait forever. In the next two decades, Mr. Csogi's life in the Marines would, instead, take him across the country, then around the globe, introduce him to his future wife, provide health and other benefits for their three daughters and deliver him into the heart of both Gulf wars.
Mr. Csogi's first deployment after boot camp - an experience he described as "13 weeks of hell" - was at a base in Japan, where another New Jersey native, 18-year-old Barbara Cain, was also stationed. Born in Point Pleasant and raised in Brielle, Ms. Cain also had a partly family-oriented motive for joining the military - she admired her own Marine father. And, like Mr. Csogi, she saw the Marines as the best decision she could make at the time. She knew she did not want to go to college, but she said, outside of that conviction, "I had no idea what I wanted to do."
In the unfamiliar, far-off country, the two young Jersey natives formed a common bond through their shared references and culture.
"We knew what the other one was talking about, where the same things were," the now-Mrs. Csogi, 35, explained. The two decided to get married just four months after meeting.
"We proved them wrong," Mr. Csogi said. "Sixteen years later, still married."
Their wedding certificate, written in Japanese characters, hangs on the living-room wall of their Brielle home.
Asked how they make their marriage work, Mr. Csogi cited old-fashioned "give-and-take." Mrs. Csogi laughed, "That's such a cliche," but didn't disagree. She noted that they both are very sarcastic.
Mrs. Csogi added that the couple has only spent 11 or 12 years out of their 16-year marriage together. She said, ironically, the periods of separation are good for their relationship. "You're always looking forward to seeing the other person," she said.
Still, Mr. Csogi said the time separated from his family "took its toll."
During the first Gulf War, Mr. Csogi was away for nine solid months, and in the second, seven months. Because of security issues, rapid repositioning of his unit and logistical difficulties, the family sometimes went weeks without hearing from Mr. Csogi or knowing where he was. Asked how she coped during such times, Mrs. Csogi responded, "We went on with life the best we could. The busier I kept, the easier it was."
During the second Gulf War, Mrs. Csogi said news was even harder to come by. "I had to beg, borrow and steal to get information on his unit." She said that the military "could work on" its communication with families.
"I got more information from the news," Mrs. Csogi said, but found that insufficient and sometimes too upsetting. "I don't think the media takes into consideration who could be watching."
Mrs. Csogi also credited "a very good support system" provided by their family for helping her family and their marriage through these difficult times. Mr. Csogi said divorce is common in the Marines, except among those who are married to other Marines or former Marines. He said it is necessary for a Marine's spouse to understand first-hand what their partner's work is like.
Mrs. Csogi does understand what it is like to sacrifice for the Marines. Six weeks after the birth of their first daughter, Kaitlin, Mrs. Csogi returned to duty to finish out her four-year enlistment term, placing Kaitlin in day care. Two years later, she gave birth to their second daughter, Courtney, only to return to duty again.
"I hated leaving them," Mrs. Csogi said. When she finished her four-year commitment, having risen to the rank of lance corporeal, she did not re-enlist.
"She wanted to be a mom," Mr. Csogi said.
Mr. Csogi's career took the family from Japan to Hawaii to North Carolina and finally back to New Jersey. He said his daughters got good at packing. Mrs. Csogi said she admired her three daughters for being "flexible" and "friendly" in a way that has allowed them to adapt to each new location.
"I give them credit," she said. "I lived in the same house and went to the same schools my whole life."
Kaitlin, now 15, swims and plays lacrosse. Courtney, 13, plays soccer and is a cheerleader. Kelly is about to turn 9 and enjoys sailing.
Mr. Csogi said the best part of retirement is relaxing and spending time with his family.
"I walk Kelly to school in the morning. I pick [Kaitlin] and her friends up from school." He also makes time to referee high-school soccer.
But "relaxing" to Mr. Csogi does not preclude active participation in his community. Residents might have seen Mr. Csogi last Saturday evening directing traffic at the corner of Higgins Avenue and Highway 35 during the black-out. He was there in his capacity as a member of Brielle's Fire Police, which he joined last year. And last month, he become a member of the first aid squad as well.
"I think it's time to give back to the community for all the support they've given me and our family," Mr. Csogi said.
Among the many gestures of support the Csogis received, one of the biggest was the shipment of over 70 boxes packed with donations and sent to Mr. Csogi and his unit while he was in Iraq this year from January to June. The donation-gathering was coordinated and based at the Brielle Fire Department, who adopted Mr. Csogi's unit. The funds for the postage were gathered from Leggett's Sand Bar patrons during Bud Bingo.
At the time he was receiving the fruits of his town's generosity in weekly, five-box installments, Mr. Csogi was living outside the town of Al-Numania in "a fighting hole," which was 6-by-6-by-4-feet large and dug into an Iraqi farmer's field. He added that to thwart attack they had to switch holes every four to six hours.
Mr. Csogi said the farmer, like himself, had three daughters. Mr. Csogi, who'd been taught "enough Arabic to get along," shared some of the candy he had been sent with the farmer's little girls. In return, the Iraqi family gave him food and flowers they had grown on their land.
Mr. Csogi, who supervised motor transport as a platoon sergeant, said once the combat engineers got the water and the electricity running, in the downtime between the work of logistics and convoy operations, "we actually ended up building a park for the kids" beside the farmer's field. They used old materials, such as tires, to make swings and other playground equipment for the children.
Despite the friendships and lighter moments, the war was still a war, dangerous and uncertain. Mr. Csogi and the 27 men under his command risked their lives daily to make supply runs and secure bridges. During one month, he said, "We'd be in a fire fight every day for at least 20 to 30 minutes," as they passed through the area where the Tigris and Euphrates rivers meet, ominously dubbed "Ambush Alley" by the American soldiers.
Still, Mr. Csogi is optimistic about the fate of Iraq, estimating that the violent insurgency is coming from only 10 percent of Iraqis. Of the other 90 percent, he said, "they want us there."
He likened the ongoing conflict to a gang war. "We have gangs here. They have gangs there."
Mr. Csogi said that in the U.S., however, there is a transparent justice system in place which deters crime. Here "there are consequences," he said. "Over there, they do it because they can." Mr. Csogi believes that once Iraq is better structured, the insurgency will decline.
Wars, international travel, a thriving family. What's next for the Csogis?
"I have to go get a job," Mr. Csogi said, grinning. "You definitely don't join [the Marines] for the pay." He said the time off these last six weeks has been nice, but he is eager to start his next career, likely in security, law enforcement or logistics - in other words, something not unlike his work in the Marines.
Mr. Csogi said that after the Marines, "I don't think you'll ever become a civilian totally. You're disciplined. You're always on time."
Mrs. Csogi said her husband was used to getting weekly hair cuts in the military.
Mr. Csogi nodded, smiling but serious. "I just cut back to one every two weeks."
His wife laughed, "It kills him."
Ellie