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01-17-07, 08:23 AM
need help trying to fing a post that says for honor for courage for country. it has marines fading in dress blues, please em me @ persaudc@mfr.usmc.mil if you got a pic of it. thank you!:marine:

01-17-07, 09:37 PM
I wouldn't mind seeing that poster too. :)

01-17-07, 09:41 PM

I want to thank you for sending me the great picture. So here it is for all to see. And if anyone sees this post I need pictures, poems and etc. for my new website.

And below is a link to a larger image.



01-18-07, 03:08 PM
Whisper 'Semper Fi'

He was sitting on a park bench, hunched and looking low
It was hard to imagine how he'd looked, so long ago.
His beard was long and shaggy now; his sparse hair white as snow But his steel gray eyes were piercing, and I turned away to go.

He looked lonely and forgotten, and maybe homeless too
Like life had dealt him a bad hand, maybe quite a few
He was probably abandoned by those who didn't care
I wondered what had happened, what drove him to despair.

He said, "Son, I'm a Leatherneck, of wars before your time"
His eyes grew still more piercing as he looked deep into mine
"Your uniform says you're a Devil Dog, the man I've waited for
And there's something I want to tell you -- things I've never said

The tattoos on his weathered arm read "Mom" and "Semper Fi"
"Let's sing our hymn together, son, once more before I die."
As we sang of Montezuma's halls and the shores of Tripoli,
The old man stood straight and tall, and he looked down at me.

"Bury me at Arlington; put an EGA upon my chest.
Tell all the world I died for them, that I was one of the best.
I was with the Fifth on Iwo, and I fought in Korea too.
During that ugly war in Vietnam, I stood proud, and cheered for you.

"Get me a straight edge razor, lad, and give me a good, clean shave. I want to look my very best as I go to my grave
Cut my hair; shine my boots; let me borrow your best blues.
You have them back after I'm gone, and all my medals too.

"I don't want no flowers, an American flag will do
My life was lived and given for the Red and White and Blue.
Whisper 'Semper Fi' my boy, so loud that all will hear
Fire them rifles in the air; they're music to my ear."

As he told me his last wishes, I saw him standing tall
I could see the ribbons on his chest, in the dim light of the Mall
And as he closed his steel gray eyes, I thought about the Corps
He'd lived the life of a real Marine, who could ask for anything more?

"Whisper 'Semper Fi,' my lad," his voice lingered in my mind
I thought about all my buddies, those I'd left behind
Today, I'd met a real Marine, a hero through and through
Forgotten by his country, but not by me and you.

By Cordell Keith Haugen


Something I rote 4 yrs ago and forget:

Who Are We?

You can see us in parades with strange hats on, at politico gatherings with the same hats on, at the gravesites of our fellow comardes giving the the last salute. Sometimes we sit in wheelchairs at the VA Hosiptal w/iv bottles and O2 tubes in our nostils, maybe on hospitals beds being wheeled around seeing the doctors.

Maybe sitting on the park benches feeding the pigons and a brown sack with a whiskey bottle inside, walking the duck pond talking to ourselves, yelling out strange words or riding a bicycle singing out cadence in a loud voice and cops behind him.

Could you have seen me somewhere? Maybe in an old movie with bullets and cannons shells flying over my head, ducking behind a tree to escape a rifle shot, to be put on a strechter and having a flag folded over my coffin and handed to my mother, my wife or my two children? Have you heard these words- "ON BEHALF OF A GRATFUL NATION AND THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES...?."

Maybe in a motorized wheelchair with a sign on the back- "Agent Orange put me in this" and American flags flying taped to the handles. Did you stop and ask who I was, open or wheeled me thru the doors of the VA Hospital, stopped at my grave on MEMORIAL or VETERANS DAY and place a flag on my grave? Did you see some people do the the same on those same days and ask why? Do you flinch when jets, sudden shots or TAPS rang out?

Have you had someone feed your meals to you, change your clothes or diapers? Did someone listens to your stories, to your cries in the night and to calm your body after a frighting nightmare that has being going on for 30 years? Have you seen my name on a black wall, a brass placard, a gold star hanging on my mother's front window, on a gravestone in a cementary?

If you have done anything like the above or know somebody like the above mentioned, you might know me. Let me know if you do by hugging me, saluting me, placing a flag on my grave, to sing a song in my honor, to help me thru that door, to help my family to take care of me, deliver that meal on wheels, to check on me and make sure that everything is alright.


I could have a uniform on or not, wear a silly hat or a pin on the same or collar of a shirt or suit jacket, have long or short (clean or unkempt) hair. Be not be afraid, I do not kill anymore, shoot anyone, or swallow anyone whole. I come here to give PEACE and to SEEK PEACE. DO YOU KNOW US NOW?

Why do you come here?

USMC '69-'75


Printed Midland Reporter-Telegram ... May, 2002


Write home for me


Write Home for Me

The next to last mission we went to the helo's area and PFC Jones asked me to write his ltr in case he did not make it back to the base. I did not want to handled it, but being the NCO I had to. I saw that look in his eyes that said, "I'm Next". I have grown to see 'em eyes like that and their's nothing I could do to change that DAMN LOOK. I could not turn him away for it was my duty to do this. Damn it to HELL!!

We were airlifted to the take off point, trek 'bout 5 klicks from there and we had little trouble getting to the real deal. The vill was over the rise of the last hill after the 3,000 hills we climb just getting hear. As the point guys clear the way for the platoon to climb over the crest of the last mountain, there was a blast from HELL from 4 82's hitting the 2 flanks and the center. Lost 3 men then and we pull back to the crest so that the 82's couldn't hit us, but the damn gooks had us roped in and there was nothing for us to withdraw to safer postitions. Sent out 2 parities to bring back the WIA's and the KIA's.

Sparks called for dustoffs and gunships cuse we had no idea of watt was in front or behind us. HQ flew 2 F-4's over in case we had prob's with the evac. We dealt big time with snipers, and small arms fire all over us, 'em damn 82's still popping everybody. 1 flt of the gunships and 2 drops of Nap from the F-4's cleared most of the woods of the small ****. As the gunships flew over, the dustoffs gather up the wounded and the dead. We flew back to the base and started to unload everybody. It was that LCPL Barnes told me that Jones was KIA. I snapped back, " He ain'tdead , SOB, I saw him up on the line and firing". "SGT, HE'S DEAD!!!!!!, was shouted back into my face. "SHOW ME, MOTHERF . . . . ". I already knew the truth, but I had to see it to make sure.

Held rollcall and Jones was not there. I grabbed Barnes and 2 others and we took off, back the kill zone. A gunship flew with us in case of. Took 45 minutes to get there and 20 minutes of searching we found, or what was left, of him. Those SOB's must have just unloaded mags after mags into Jones's body. Gathered him in a ******* BB(body bag) and I hate those things. It was a sad arrivial back the base, Sparks had called ahead for G&R (grave and registertion) and they carried Jones to their bunker.

About 2 hrs later Barnes knocked at the door and he handed me Jones's personal belongings and turned to leave, I said, "Have a seat, Nolan." He looked at me and I nodded to the other chair. I pulled out the bottle of Jim Beam, 2 glasses and a canteen of water. "Sorry bout earlier, CPL Barnes, I had alot of sh*t on my mind." "Cpl. Barnes", he said in a questioning voice. "Yes, as of 1200 this day you are CPL Barnes and that make YOU ASS'T PLATOON LEADER, CPL BARNES. Drink up and get out there and get that sh*bird platoon of YOURS shining. CPL Barnes stood up and said, "AYE SIR". Stopped at the bunker doorway and asked a big favor of me and I said, "Sure, what's it?" "In the ltr you write to Jones's folk would you put this ltr in it", Barnes requested as he handed it to me and I nodded yes. I knew then it will be a long night and I knew since this am. DAMN IT TO HELL!!

I looked thru Jones's belongings and found a ltr that he had started to write to his folks and the one that Barnes handed to me was to Peggy, his gal. Also found her picture in his wallet and it looked like the pic of my wife, it was worn with being handled too much and too many kisses. I read both ltrs and sat 'em aside and grabbed the Jim Beam and took a sip. Reached in the field desk for paper and found none, yelled out for Branes and the new CPL popped his head in the hooch, "Sgt!! "Got a writing table? " Yup, back in a flash." The "Flash" returned and handed the table to me and said, "Anything else, Sgt?" "No, Carry on."

I stared at the writing tablet for a long time, it had the Enblem above the lines. Jones or Barnes was still using a tablet that he had since the "BOOT". It took me back to 10 yrs ago when I was a "BOOT" and writing to my family and sweetheart(now wife) on the same paper. Staring at the damn empty paper ain't getting that damn ltr written. Picked up the black GI pen and started to write. Did not how to started this damn ltr, but "Dear Mr. and Mrs. Jones" sounded good to me.

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Jones,

I am writing to inform you that your son, PFC. Willam B. Jones was killed by enemy action on 041774 (April 17, 1974). Our platoon, along with 2 others was involved in a action to sweep thru 2 vills(villages), screen the inhabiants and find out where the weapons are stored, if any. We never made it to the vills, the NVA(the bad guys) caught us in a crossfire of mortars and machines guns fire. Besides your son we lost 6 other MARINES. They fought with courage and purpose. Please accept my sincerest . . .

I stopped there 'cause I couldn't write anymore. I was sick and tired of writing those damn ltrs. Seem like everyday I write one of these ltrs to loved ones I'm writing the same thing over and over! I reach out for the Jim Beam, took a swig and screwed the top back on. I grabbed the pen and started to write again.

Please accept my sincerest apologies, Mr. and Mrs. Jones. I know that your son's death will be the hardest to ever accept. I knew him for 6 short, or as we say in here a long time, months. He reached his 19th birthday and and died 16 days later in a jungle, here. I know that he carried our his duties as a MARINE everyday. I did not see when and how he received his deadly wound today. We were busy trying to live in the hellfire that we ran into that day. Cpl. N. Barnes did see what happened today and will write y'all to let y'all know what happened and in the event that Cpl. Barnes does not I will see y'all in 3 short months. I hope and pray that God will comfort your hearts in this trying time.

I hope that in a short time the pain will be easier to live. I know that this pain will never go away for I have lived in yours shoes everyday because of the deaths I have seen and caused.

Mr. and Mrs. Jones, I have 2 young children of my own (2 and 4, boys) and I can not begin tell you what or how I would feel if I found out that one or both of my sons were dead. I have knocked on 3 doors of parents in the 10 yrs I have been a MARINE and I hate the feelings I get when I knock or come away from a house full of tears. I have cried in silence for the parent and their family. If there is anything I can do please let me know. Your son's personal belonging will sent to you with the casket arrives in your hometown.

Respectfully Yours

Ben Weihrich

I look over the ltr and folded it and put in a big yellow envople along with the personal belongings of Jones and sealed it. Yell for Barnes to take this stuff to G&R to be forwared to his folks. I reached for the Jim Beam and took a big swig. I got up and slam the hooch door and turn off the lights and lay down on my cot and cried.

Semper FI



More coming in the next few days ifin y'all use 'em