Grunts

[thedrifter]

Feel Free to add your own pics.......



To the dirt-eating grunt, Vietnam was an endless succession of bummers. Besides the never-ending fear of death, we had to endure a host of miseries: merciless humps through a sun-scorched landscape packing eighty pregnant pounds, brain-boiling heat, hot house humidity, dehydration, heat exhaustion, sunburn, red dust, torrential rains, boot-sucking mud, blood-sucking leeches, steaming jungles, malaria, dysentery, razorsharp elephant grass, bush sores, jungle rot, moaning and groaning, meals in green cans, armies of insects, fire ants, poisonous centipedes, mosquitoes, flies, bush snakes, vipers, scorpions, rats, bordedom, incoming fire, body bags, and a thousand more discomforts. Dispite all this the grunt did his job well.


Sempers,

Roger



http://www.vwam.com/vets/cover.jpg



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[thedrifter]

The work of the grunt was unnoticed by the average American. But to the men they worked with in the field, the men that shared life and death on a daily basis he was respected and
honoured.


http://www.vwam.com/vets/black2.jpg

Viet Nam forced everyone to rethink the values of life.


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The "field" tested the leadership character of every Platoon Commander in Viet Nam.


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What grunt can forget the endless patrols, the endless humidity, the endless wetness.

[thedrifter]

http://www.vwam.com/vets/co2.jpg

The life link of the grunt was the radio, map, and the Huey.


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Burning the enemies resources was never easy, but was part of the job.


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The never ending pain of combat was ever present with the grunt.

[thedrifter]

http://www.vwam.com/vets/tower.jpg

Marines at the east gate tower of the Citadel at Hue.


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They fought and fought. It rained and rained.


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[dsonntag2003]

This may be your finest hour, for you are about to meet a "grunt."

"Doff your cap, if you will; wave a flag; choke back a tear from your eye, for this is the man who is fighting your war.
He is the Marine up front, the one who is sticking his nose in the mud each day, every day. He is the one who sees the enemy at 25 yards. He is the one who knows what it feels like to be shot at close range by small arms.
He is the one who dies a thousand times when the night is dark and the moon is gone. And he is the one who dies once and forever when an enemy rifle belches flame."


In Loving Memory of Pfc Eddie C. Harris USMC
and all the "grunts" who saw that rifle flame