thedrifter
11-10-05, 07:16 AM
Special Ops Marines ran 560 miles to celebrate Corps' 200th birthday
By ELISHA PAPPACODA, DAILY SUN
THE VILLAGES - From the birthplace of the Marine Corps to the home base of countless Marines, the military's most elite ran a grueling 560-mile marathon to commemorate the Corps' bicentennial.
The weather was cool and rainy outside Philadelphia's Tun Tavern, the very site where, on Nov. 10, 1775, tavern owner Robert Mullan established the first two Marine battalions through an act of Congress.
Two centuries later, 36 members of the Marine Corps Special Operations 2nd Force Reconnaissance geared up for the trek of their lives with the starting point at this military landmark and the finish line at Camp Lejeune, N.C., where thousands of Marines have trained and lived.
Senior Naval chief hospital corpsman, Brian Bates, then 37, was at their sides. Bates, a Navy SEAL and Vietnam War veteran, was attached to the 2nd Force Recon. He helped set up the mega-marathon route through four states - Pennsylvania, Maryland, Virginia and North Carolina - that tested the skills of the hand-selected unit while commemorating the Marines' 200th birthday.
“It seemed like it was going to be real tough - and it was,” said Bates, a Villages resident.
The marathon was the brainchild of Maj. Jim Capers, a sharecropper's son who climbed through the ranks from private to commander of 2nd Force Recon. A Vietnam War hero, Capers was the first African-American featured on a military recruiting poster.
“He always had the greatest respect of his men,” Bates said. “His men would go to hell and back with him because he'd bring them back.”
And this instance was no different.
Bates was accustomed to jogging 15 miles a day, and had run smaller scale marathons - one to bring attention to the plight of prisoners of war and another 50-mile run in full combat equipment. But as his sneakers pounded the damp Philadelphia asphalt, Bates couldn't help but wonder what he had gotten himself into.
Bates said he thought they were “crazy for doing this.”
“At times, we'd think ‘We're not going to make this,' ” he said.
Donning the Marines' signature red and gold, they ran in formation, carrying their guidon and pressed through Baltimore, Md., one hour ahead of schedule. They decided not to wait for the TV news crews, who had planned to meet them there.
“A decision was made,” Bates said. “We were still hyped up for the run, so it would be out of the question to stop for one hour and lose our motivation.”
As they approached Saluda, Va., a town of 9,000, the men decided to brake to honor one of the most legendary Marines.
“I said, ‘We have to stop at Chesty Puller's house,' ” Bates recalled.
Lt. Gen. Lewis “Chesty” Puller, a veteran of the Korean War and World War II, was the most decorated U.S. Marine in history and arguably the most famous. It was 11 p.m. as the men approached his widow's front door. Puller had died four years earlier.
“We were sweaty, filthy and dirty from running so long,” Bates said. But the men decided he should rap on the front door.
“Well, I don't know what the general would say with the appearance of you Marines,” Mrs. Puller said with a sly smile. “You boys come in.”
She led them to the general's den, where Puller's collection of wartime accolades awed Bates.
“An unbelievable amount of medals were on the wall,” he recalled. “That was a great privilege to me.”
Directly south of Saluda, the troop briefly stopped once more to wipe their brows and award another plaque to officers at the Norfolk Naval Base in Virginia. Then, it was on to Chesapeake and Suffolk before they finally crossed the state line into North Carolina.
As the men neared the base gate after three and a half days of running, they chanted, “We are Recon! 2nd Force Recon!”
“We were going to chant at the top of our lungs,” Bates said. “We sang our song so everybody knew we were coming home.”
Bates said they neared the finish line at Camp Lejeune five minutes ahead of schedule, and Marines' wives greeted them with open arms. Every man made it, though many had previously suffered various wartime injuries.
“I felt totally, totally, totally drained,” Bates said. “No strength, weak, tired, worn out.”
He downed a soda, and heard a single news report before collapsing from exhaustion.
“About the only thing I remember on my way home - the news came on and was playing us chanting when we came in,” he said. “I was a sailor, but I loved the unit. I felt it was a privilege to be with this unit.”
Elisha Pappacoda is a reporter with the Daily Sun. She can be reached at 753-1119, ext. 9268, or at elisha.pappacoda@thevillagesmedia.com.
Ellie
By ELISHA PAPPACODA, DAILY SUN
THE VILLAGES - From the birthplace of the Marine Corps to the home base of countless Marines, the military's most elite ran a grueling 560-mile marathon to commemorate the Corps' bicentennial.
The weather was cool and rainy outside Philadelphia's Tun Tavern, the very site where, on Nov. 10, 1775, tavern owner Robert Mullan established the first two Marine battalions through an act of Congress.
Two centuries later, 36 members of the Marine Corps Special Operations 2nd Force Reconnaissance geared up for the trek of their lives with the starting point at this military landmark and the finish line at Camp Lejeune, N.C., where thousands of Marines have trained and lived.
Senior Naval chief hospital corpsman, Brian Bates, then 37, was at their sides. Bates, a Navy SEAL and Vietnam War veteran, was attached to the 2nd Force Recon. He helped set up the mega-marathon route through four states - Pennsylvania, Maryland, Virginia and North Carolina - that tested the skills of the hand-selected unit while commemorating the Marines' 200th birthday.
“It seemed like it was going to be real tough - and it was,” said Bates, a Villages resident.
The marathon was the brainchild of Maj. Jim Capers, a sharecropper's son who climbed through the ranks from private to commander of 2nd Force Recon. A Vietnam War hero, Capers was the first African-American featured on a military recruiting poster.
“He always had the greatest respect of his men,” Bates said. “His men would go to hell and back with him because he'd bring them back.”
And this instance was no different.
Bates was accustomed to jogging 15 miles a day, and had run smaller scale marathons - one to bring attention to the plight of prisoners of war and another 50-mile run in full combat equipment. But as his sneakers pounded the damp Philadelphia asphalt, Bates couldn't help but wonder what he had gotten himself into.
Bates said he thought they were “crazy for doing this.”
“At times, we'd think ‘We're not going to make this,' ” he said.
Donning the Marines' signature red and gold, they ran in formation, carrying their guidon and pressed through Baltimore, Md., one hour ahead of schedule. They decided not to wait for the TV news crews, who had planned to meet them there.
“A decision was made,” Bates said. “We were still hyped up for the run, so it would be out of the question to stop for one hour and lose our motivation.”
As they approached Saluda, Va., a town of 9,000, the men decided to brake to honor one of the most legendary Marines.
“I said, ‘We have to stop at Chesty Puller's house,' ” Bates recalled.
Lt. Gen. Lewis “Chesty” Puller, a veteran of the Korean War and World War II, was the most decorated U.S. Marine in history and arguably the most famous. It was 11 p.m. as the men approached his widow's front door. Puller had died four years earlier.
“We were sweaty, filthy and dirty from running so long,” Bates said. But the men decided he should rap on the front door.
“Well, I don't know what the general would say with the appearance of you Marines,” Mrs. Puller said with a sly smile. “You boys come in.”
She led them to the general's den, where Puller's collection of wartime accolades awed Bates.
“An unbelievable amount of medals were on the wall,” he recalled. “That was a great privilege to me.”
Directly south of Saluda, the troop briefly stopped once more to wipe their brows and award another plaque to officers at the Norfolk Naval Base in Virginia. Then, it was on to Chesapeake and Suffolk before they finally crossed the state line into North Carolina.
As the men neared the base gate after three and a half days of running, they chanted, “We are Recon! 2nd Force Recon!”
“We were going to chant at the top of our lungs,” Bates said. “We sang our song so everybody knew we were coming home.”
Bates said they neared the finish line at Camp Lejeune five minutes ahead of schedule, and Marines' wives greeted them with open arms. Every man made it, though many had previously suffered various wartime injuries.
“I felt totally, totally, totally drained,” Bates said. “No strength, weak, tired, worn out.”
He downed a soda, and heard a single news report before collapsing from exhaustion.
“About the only thing I remember on my way home - the news came on and was playing us chanting when we came in,” he said. “I was a sailor, but I loved the unit. I felt it was a privilege to be with this unit.”
Elisha Pappacoda is a reporter with the Daily Sun. She can be reached at 753-1119, ext. 9268, or at elisha.pappacoda@thevillagesmedia.com.
Ellie