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thedrifter
10-14-06, 09:11 AM
Early Happy Birthday, Marines!

Marines,

I have received several requests for the text of my remarks during last year's Marine Corps Birthday celebration, and since it is less than a month until 10 November thought it would be appropriate to send it out to a few other folks (plus I am getting senile, and can't remember who asked for it!) Semper Fi, and an early Happy Birthday!

Good afternoon, Marines! I'm sure most of you have heard the song called "I was born on Parris Island ." You know - the one that goes, "I was born on Parris Island , in the land that God forgot, the sand is eighteen inches deep, the sun is scorching hot… etc, etc?

Well, I truly WAS born on Parris Island . Not physically of course, but in all of the ways that really matter - and I'm sure that many of you here today were also born on that dismal, swampy bit of ground in South Carolina… or, for those of you from the west coast, within the confines of MCRD San Diego.

What I am saying is, the Marine Corps made me the person I am today. Now, I am sure a lot of you are thinking, "I wouldn't let that get around!" or "Hey, don't blame it on the Corps!" But in all seriousness, the Marine Corps took a basically good, but aimless, kid from Long Island and taught him all about things like honor, courage, commitment, and most importantly - loyalty. And it is because of that loyalty that we are all here in this room today to celebrate the birth of our beloved Corps. All of us, that is, except Wayne over here, who is here for the free drinks!

I chose the Marines for one reason and one reason only - they had a reputation for being the best! Back in those days the signs outside recruiting offices said "The Marine Corps Builds Men" and "We Never Promised You a Rose Garden" - and believe me they delivered on both counts. I became doubly sure of the wisdom of my decision the first time I visited the recruiter's office, because as I walked down the passageway - the Marines were at the far end of the hall - I had a dozen pamphlets shoved under my nose and heard a stream of promises from the Army, Navy, and Air Force recruiters about bonuses, world travel and technical training. When I finally reached the Marine office the Gunny looked up from his, desk, took one gander at me, and said "Get the hell out of here, and come back when you've got some muscles and a few whiskers!" I remember thinking to myself, "I've just got to be one of these guys!"

Well, I obviously managed to get past that steely-eyed Gunny at some point and made it to PI - and that's when I found out the real reason I had chosen the right outfit. I didn't know diddly squat about USMC history when I first joined, but that changed in a hurry. I'm sure a lot of you remember the old "red monsters" we carried everywhere we went, and read during every spare moment. Those little books contained information about everything from the chain of command to the dimensions of a slit trench, and of course there was a chapter on "Marine Corps History and Traditions." Well, that was my favorite, and to this day I believe it was by far the most important- and I will give you my reasons for that belief shortly.

While on Parris Island I experienced my very first Marine Corps Birthday, and it came as something of a surprise to the entire platoon that a warfighting organization such as the Corps celebrated such a thing. I clearly recollect being given a slice of cake while at evening chow that day… and five additional minutes to eat it to boot! But I was suspicious, and almost didn't eat the cake, because of something I had seen a few weeks earlier.

One of the other recruits had received a package from his mother, and inside was a birthday cake. I didn't know the guy, since we weren't allowed to talk to each other, but I felt sorry for him nevertheless. It was his bad luck that the "heavy hat" had the duty that night, and I'll never forget the spectacle which ensued. After telling the private that he could, of course, eat his cake, the DI placed it at the recruit's feet on the quarterdeck and told him to "Begin!" doing bends and thrusts. Each time the birthday-boy went down he was required to take a bite as best he could, with the promise that he could stop just as soon as it was all gone. As you can imagine, the episode didn't end well for the poor guy.

Well I did eat that slice of cake on 10 November, 1974 , and I have eaten many more slices in the thirty-plus years that have followed - as you can probably tell from my waistline!

Each celebration of the Marine Corps Birthday is a unique event, and I can pretty much remember every one of them. One that stands out was my second "celebration." As luck would have it, I was on guard duty for that one. A lot of my buddies were going to the battalion Ball, and I would have liked to have been there with them - or, for that matter, anywhere other than toting a rifle around the motor pool at right shoulder arms in the middle of the night!

But I was stuck there, and had to make the best of it - at least until something happened which told me a lot about the organization I had joined. At about 1 AM the Sergeant of the Guard showed up at my post unexpectedly, handed me a slice of birthday cake, and relieved me of my post while I sat and enjoyed it - and as he did so he said, "Happy Birthday, Marine!" It was the first time anyone had ever said that to me, and I shall never forget it.

Of course I'm not the only one with special birthday memories. One of my favorite stories comes from an infantry company deployed to Iraq a couple of years ago. They were in the middle of a fight for the terrorist stronghold of Fallujah, and were duking it out with the bad guys house-by-house and street-by-street. Even so, the Commanding Officer made it a point to rotate his Marines off the line, platoon by platoon, until every one of his warriors had gotten a piece of cake. One of the embedded journalists saw what was going on, and asked an officer "What if the enemy launches a counterattack?" The Marine looked him in the eye and said, "The second biggest mistake someone can make in this world is to attack a Marine Corps rifle company. The biggest mistake is doing it on 10 November!"

Truer words were never spoken. Hell, even our ****birds understand the history of the Corps. Ask any Marine, be he a four-star general or a slick-sleeve private, when the Marine Corps was founded and he will tell you "10 November, 1775!" without blinking an eye. Unfortunately, the same is not true in our sister services. Just recently, for example, I crossed paths with an acquaintance of mine who is a retired Army Lieutenant Colonel, and since it just happened to be June 14th I greeted him with a hearty, "Happy Birthday, Sir!" He had no clue what I was talking about.

Now, I'm not trying to be disrespectful to the other services. I'm just pointing out one of the big differences between the Marine Corps and everyone else - and it's not just like we Marines are blowing our own horn. During World War I an Army General by the name of John "Blackjack" Pershing said, "Why in the hell can't the Army do it if the Marines can? They are the same kind of men! Why can't they be like Marines?" Well, General, I think the answer is pretty clear!

It is frequently pointed out that we are all on the same side, and that is true - at least during time of war. And in the case of the United States Navy, during the Army-Navy game as well! Now, the Marine Corps and Navy have had a long and special relationship for over two hundred years, and we do try our best to get along with our squidly friends. As Kiefer Sutherland said in A Few Good Men, "I like all you Navy boys. Whenever we have to go somewhere to fight, you always give us a ride." Well, we try to get along until one of them brings up that tired old comment - "Don't forget jarhead, the Marine Corps is in the Department of the Navy!" And naturally, we tell them that they are right - and we are the Men's Department! There is one caveat to that statement, however. Nobody should get the idea that any of this gives them license to bad mouth an FMF Corpsmen, who is technically a sailor, in the presence of a Marine - because he does so at his own peril!

Now, the Army is a different story. Both services are a species of canine. We are called "Devil Dogs," and they are, well…doggies! Think about how differently history might have been written if the 4th Marine Brigade hadn't had to bail them out at Belleau Wood . And it wasn't an isolated incident, either. While the 8th Army was retreating during the Korean War, the 1st Marine Division was making history! One Chinese General said it best when he told his commanders, "Do not attack the U. S. Marines. They fight like devils! Strike the American Army instead!"

And then there's the Air Force. I could get into big trouble at home for saying what I'm about to say, because my wife is an active duty member of that organization, but the truth must be told. The best description I have heard of the "Aim High" bunch comes from a Captain of Marines. His brother-in-law was about to graduate from the Air Force Academy in Colorado Springs, and he attended the ceremony with his wife and mother-in-law - a woman who considered her son-in-law to be something of a Neanderthal… like most Marines. The three of them were sitting in the stands watching as the class passed in review, and naturally the mother was so proud she was about to burst. She gushed, "Isn't this impressive!" and without a moments hesitation the Marine replied, "It sure is… looks like damned near the whole Post Office turned out!"

But enough about our sister services. The important thing is we are proud of being Marines, with a capital "M" - and nothing makes us prouder than being recognized as one. One of my proudest moments, for example, came the day I met R. Lee Ermey of Full Metal Jacket fame. I was the technical advisor on a movie in which he was to appear, and on the day he arrived pretty much the entire movie crew - probably about two hundred people - was milling around in the hotel bar/restaurant. Lee appeared at the door, scanned the room for a few moments, made his way through the crowd - and walked directly up to me. "YOU MUST BE THE GUNNY!" he bellowed. I answered that indeed I was, and asked how he knew. "Come on, Devil Dog, look around at these pukes," he replied, "you stick out like a sore thumb!"

Of course, not everyone has what it takes to be a Marine - and that's the way it should be. And, not surprisingly, that reminds me of a story. Some of you may doubt its validity, but I have it on good authority that every word I am about to tell you is true. It seems that when General George S. Patton passed away he found himself at the Pearly Gates, face to face with St. Peter himself. The General was about to enter, but before he did so he stopped and asked the kindly old saint if there were any Marines inside. Once Peter had stopped laughing he said, "Marines? In Heaven? No General, they are all down in the 'other' place." Patton nodded his approval and said, "Good. Nothing I hate worse than jarheads. Bunch of cocky SOBs!" With that he picked up his gear and headed down the street toward his billeting area - but when he reached the first intersection he threw down his duffel bag in disgust and marched back to confront Peter. "I thought you told me there were no Marines here!" he yelled, and the Saint calmly assured him there were none. "Well then, who is that guy at the intersection?" Patton asked. He then went on to describe him as being tall, handsome, muscular, tanned, and wearing an impeccable dress blue uniform - for all intents and purposes… a typical Marine! A look of recognition came over St. Peter's face, and he said, "Oh, him. That's no Marine. It's God. He just likes to pretend he's a Marine!"

There's not much else I can say after that, except… Happy Birthday, Marines!

Semper Fi,
Andy Bufalo
MSgt USMC (Ret)
www.usmcstories.com