thedrifter
12-30-07, 09:20 AM
Posted on Sun, Dec. 30, 2007
Symbol of homecoming scarce near base
JAY PRICE
The nearly two miles of security fence lining N.C. 24 near Camp Lejeune's main gate are mostly bare.
It's a rare sight.
Since the Sept. 11, 2001, terrorist attacks, the fences have almost always been covered with dozens -- sometimes hundreds -- of homemade signs.
Some are made in haste from cardboard and spray paint, others neatly hand-lettered and decorated in whimsical fashion with toys, flags and balloons.
Many are crafted from bedsheets, others from tarpaulins, construction paper or even plastic cups pushed through the chain links to form words, welcoming Marines home from their dangerous work overseas.
Dozens of units, big and small, have come home to Jacksonville in recent years. It has been awhile, though, since the last major homecoming, and the Marines recently cleared away the old signs, each a shorthand tale of reunion, of lives no longer on hold.
A tradition that grew
The signs are a part of a Lejeune tradition that stretches back more than 15 years to the last U.S. conflict in the Middle East, said Reinhild Huneycutt, an assistant in the base public affairs office, who has worked at Lejeune since 1970.When nearly 10,000 Marines came home from the first Gulf War in the spring of 1991, they traveled on N.C. 24 via convoy from Morehead City. The welcome signs started in Morehead, where they came ashore from their ships, and the fences around the gate were a natural choice for even more, Huneycutt said.
It was a massive event, said Huneycutt. People lined the highway, and there was heavy media coverage. It took the Marines a couple of extra hours to reach Jacksonville from Morehead City.
After that, she said, the tradition of attaching signs to the fences around the main gate continued for the Marines' peacetime deployments, such as their frequent Mediterranean missions, when they are positioned on ships for months at a time.
Transition from peace time
The signs became more poignant after 9-11. First, a deployment meant Afghanistan, then it came to mean seven months or a year in Iraq's Anbar Province. For most of the war, that province has been both Marine turf and the most dangerous place for U.S. troops. It has turned much calmer in recent months but still can be deadly.
The signs have become so popular that the fences around the main gate aren't enough. Now they also spring up on the outfield fence of a Babe Ruth League baseball field down the road and on fences around nearby shuttered businesses.
There are messages from children, paw-printed signs attributed to pining pets, and references to pleasures long denied, be they beer or other things: "Sgt. Johnson Prepare 4 Your Debriefing" proclaimed a recent spray-painted sheet.
For a homecoming this summer, Misty Roark made three signs, each a kind of announcement of lives restarting. One was for her husband, Lance Cpl. Brian Roark. Another was for three of his friends who weren't married. She wanted to make sure they knew someone cared. The third was for another young bachelor in the unit, whose mother lived hundreds of miles away and couldn't make it for the reunion.
"She told me what to write, and later when we took it down I mailed it to them," she said.
Ellie
Symbol of homecoming scarce near base
JAY PRICE
The nearly two miles of security fence lining N.C. 24 near Camp Lejeune's main gate are mostly bare.
It's a rare sight.
Since the Sept. 11, 2001, terrorist attacks, the fences have almost always been covered with dozens -- sometimes hundreds -- of homemade signs.
Some are made in haste from cardboard and spray paint, others neatly hand-lettered and decorated in whimsical fashion with toys, flags and balloons.
Many are crafted from bedsheets, others from tarpaulins, construction paper or even plastic cups pushed through the chain links to form words, welcoming Marines home from their dangerous work overseas.
Dozens of units, big and small, have come home to Jacksonville in recent years. It has been awhile, though, since the last major homecoming, and the Marines recently cleared away the old signs, each a shorthand tale of reunion, of lives no longer on hold.
A tradition that grew
The signs are a part of a Lejeune tradition that stretches back more than 15 years to the last U.S. conflict in the Middle East, said Reinhild Huneycutt, an assistant in the base public affairs office, who has worked at Lejeune since 1970.When nearly 10,000 Marines came home from the first Gulf War in the spring of 1991, they traveled on N.C. 24 via convoy from Morehead City. The welcome signs started in Morehead, where they came ashore from their ships, and the fences around the gate were a natural choice for even more, Huneycutt said.
It was a massive event, said Huneycutt. People lined the highway, and there was heavy media coverage. It took the Marines a couple of extra hours to reach Jacksonville from Morehead City.
After that, she said, the tradition of attaching signs to the fences around the main gate continued for the Marines' peacetime deployments, such as their frequent Mediterranean missions, when they are positioned on ships for months at a time.
Transition from peace time
The signs became more poignant after 9-11. First, a deployment meant Afghanistan, then it came to mean seven months or a year in Iraq's Anbar Province. For most of the war, that province has been both Marine turf and the most dangerous place for U.S. troops. It has turned much calmer in recent months but still can be deadly.
The signs have become so popular that the fences around the main gate aren't enough. Now they also spring up on the outfield fence of a Babe Ruth League baseball field down the road and on fences around nearby shuttered businesses.
There are messages from children, paw-printed signs attributed to pining pets, and references to pleasures long denied, be they beer or other things: "Sgt. Johnson Prepare 4 Your Debriefing" proclaimed a recent spray-painted sheet.
For a homecoming this summer, Misty Roark made three signs, each a kind of announcement of lives restarting. One was for her husband, Lance Cpl. Brian Roark. Another was for three of his friends who weren't married. She wanted to make sure they knew someone cared. The third was for another young bachelor in the unit, whose mother lived hundreds of miles away and couldn't make it for the reunion.
"She told me what to write, and later when we took it down I mailed it to them," she said.
Ellie