Todays Moto

[jinelson]

Wake Up!

by: Jeff Fischelli USMC

One week until graduation. One more week and I would finally be a United States Marine. Three months of sweat, pain and hard work were about to make a lifelong dream come true. I had made it - finally.

It was an absolutely gorgeous day aboard Marine Corps Recruit Depot, San Diego, California. If you ever have to endure Marine Corps Boot Camp, do it in San Diego in the early spring months. Gorgeous. I was admiring the city's skyline, the houses on the cliffs, the crisp clean air, and dreaming of home. Life was great. I was going home in a week!

I was doing all of this 'sight-seeing' while my platoon was on the gigantic parade deck, practicing for Final Drill competition. The shouts of our Marine Drill Instructors echoing across the wide expanse of asphalt - "Co-lumn Left, Haaaarch!", "Ex-teeeend, Haaaarch!", "Close, Haaaarch!", "Port, Arms!" Only Marine DIs can march a platoon with such command, such precision. A demand for excellence emanated from them constantly. From their razor-sharp uniforms to their stone cold, piercing eyes, dedication and honor oozed from their pores, and we recruits couldn't get enough.

"Pla-toon, Halt!" Snap! After twelve weeks of Marine Corps training, Platoon 3065 was good, and we knew it. Perfect execution of our drill sequence was what we lived for at this point. We had our sights on being the best in Final Drill - and our DIs would accept nothing less.

"Column of files, from the right! Haaaarrch!" Fourth Squad stepped off, then Third. I was in Second Squad, third rank. Third Squad Leader stepped off behind the last recruit in the Second, then the 2nd rank. My turn to step off...

Ahhh...I can't wait to get home. Brand new pickup truck waiting for me. Strutting around town in my Marine uniform. The respect I will receive. The girls I will meet. Home. I have arrived. I have made it. Rest up now, recruit. Kick back and let that mind of yours wander. Take in the sights. You have made it! So busy daydreaming, I had little time for bothersome things like stepping off when it came my turn.

Reality hits. I come to my senses, but it's too late. I just messed up the entire platoon's movement! Fear. Panic. A lump in my throat. Beads of sweat form on my brow. Oh, dear God! Please tell me this isn't happening! I screwed us up! Please let me recover in time to not be noticed. Please! I am in Third Phase! Third Phase recruits don't do this! Stop this nightmare!

Footsteps coming closer and closer. Heart pounding. I am frozen solid at the position of attention. Here it comes. My due punishment has arrived. Bracing myself. Footsteps...

"BAM!"

Drill Instructor Sergeant Wilson's campaign cover, the famous "Smokey Bear" that all Marine Drill Instructors wear, slams into my forehead. Then his eyeballs. Oh, there's nothing like a Marine Drill Instructor's eyeballs. We're toe to toe. Man to man. DI to recruit. Fear. There are only two people on the earth at this moment - him and me. The hunter and the hunted. Fear. Fear. Fear.

"Wake Up, Fischelli!"

It stung. Those words cut deep as they came from the man that had dominated my life for twelve long weeks of training. The man that had taught me so much. The man that embodied everything I ever imagined a Marine to be. He showed me what a Marine was. He was Marine, and I had let him down. His passion was a well-disciplined platoon. His life was teaching his recruits the art of Close Order Drill - the Marine Corps way.

More than anything, I wanted to beg for forgiveness. From Sergeant Wilson, for failing him. From my platoon, for halting their training. For being the only one responsible for this lack of concentration. But the Marine Corps doesn't want excuses or apologies, and neither does your platoon. They want, and deserve, results.

There's a saying in the Marine Corps: "There's always one." There will always be one who doesn't want to follow the rules. There will always be one who wants to screw everything up for the rest of the unit. There will always be one who gets others killed in battle. For this moment in time, I was that ONE, and it felt terrible.

Luckily, I can say that I was not "the one" in my platoon very often. I was a squared-away recruit, and I desperately wanted to be a Marine. Maybe that's what hurt so bad from those three words, "Wake Up, Fischelli!" I knew better. I knew the drill movements and when it was time for me to do my part for the platoon, yet I didn't do it that time.

At the time, I probably wished the entire incident would be removed from my memory and that I would never have to dwell on the hard lesson learned that day. Now, though, I am glad it's still very fresh in my mind. Whether you're marching in a platoon, storming a beach, going to college, playing civilian, or wherever you are in life - learn from my mistake and the lesson given to me by one highly dedicated Marine Drill Instructor...

"Wake Up!"

Just as a Marine Drill Instructor has a special way of getting your attention, so does life. Live it the way it was intended to be lived. Live it with honor and dignity. Play by the rules. Pay attention. Live your life out of care for those around you - whether it be your platoon, your wife, your children, your country....

Semper Fi.

[jinelson]

Marine Mom Poem

by Author Unknown

August is near
But September's the month
That we will hold dear
When you grow older
Time usually moves fast
But this summer
Seems to last

Babes seem to grow
In the bat of an eye
So pardon me son
If I sometimes cry

Don't worry about it
For they're tears of joy
A man has evolved
From our beautiful boy

Don't mind if I treat you the same
Please don't scorn
For to me
You will always be our first born

It's hard for a Mother
To realize you've grown
They want you forever
To be all their own

But honestly Gary
I'm willing to share
With God and Our Country
And the Marine Corps they care

Don't ever forget though
If you're feeling blue
Your Mother will
Always be there for you

And when you are happy
Remember me too
For I am the one
Who wished it for you.

It's been over a year
Since I wrote that poem
We're sitting here waiting
For you to come home

Your new mission in life
Is successful so far
The only hard part is
We can't be where you are

Your Father's big dream
Has now come true
You've become a Marine
We are so proud of you

So keep up the good work
We know it's not fun
But we're happy to say
"That Marine Is Our Son"

Semper Fi and God Bless

[jinelson]

Another Marine Mom Poem

by Author Unknown

The talk in the service is all kind of new
You march past the flag; they call it "Review"
You stand in a "chow line"
While we site and dine
You polish your boots, call it "spit shine"
When you have to go potty
You use the "head"
You jump into your "sack"
We call it a bed
I'd wake you for school
You wake now for "muster"
At that early hour
It sure is a buster
They gave you a number
In place of a name
But you'll always be "Gary"
To me just the same
You learn all the jargon
And don't ever balk
But remember it's Mom
Who taught you to talk

[Master Sephiroth]

Nice poem there

[Master Sephiroth]

Is that wall part of the confidence course?

[PooleeAdams 1]

I hope so.

[Bradly Powell]

My mother would probably like some of these poems. I think they're ok.

[jinelson]

U.S.M.C.

By Travis Dohlin

They are the guardians of our ships and shores
They fight on sea, in air, and on the land
They have so very many faithful lores
They even have their own great marching band
Their troops number fewer than the rest
Through it all they still have much to gain
But they are still amoug the proud and very best
They are this way because they train, even in the snow and rain
They have fought on countless foreign lands
At range and even man to man
On unfamilar beach and desert sands
Eating food from field ration cans
Who are these mighty warriors you ask?
Its the U.S. Marines up to the task.

[jinelson]

BALLAD OF THE 5TH MARINES

by Harry R. Geibus USMC

Fighting men from our land
They have shaken the devil's hand
And when they wear their battle greens
They are known as the 5th Marines

We're the men of the 5th Marines
Dirty rotten and fighting mean
From the states we came this way
Couldn't care less about the Green Beret

We stalk the paddies night and day
Don't need shutes or a green beret
Have no wings upon our chest
U.S. Marines our countrie's best

We patrol and kill V.C.
Fighting Cong to make men free
One hundred men overrun today
We saved their ass the Green Berets

I saw Marines who gave their lives
So Green Berets could tell their lies
If I should die in this far land
I hope it will be for a better man

While they jump and sing their songs
We search the fields and kill the Cong
We are the men who fight each day
Since '76 its been that way

Back at home a young wife waits
Her brave Marine has met his fate
He has died so others could live
For his land that's what he'll give

I know this song won't be a hit
But a good Marine don't give a ****
And when it comes to glory and fame
We'll kick your ass and take your name


A poem that Harry R. Geibus wrote on the way to Okinawa... a parody of Barry Sadler's hit song.
~ Marko Whiteley, India 3/5

I remember how proud I was when a brother fired this shot, back in the Nam. I reckon the only ones this will make sense to is us old fartin few.

Jim

[jinelson]

I saved my 4,000th post to thank you all for reading this thread and your comments online and PM's. This thread keeps me green and I have nothing but gratitude for the privilege of posting it daily for as long as I can. Please feel free to post on it, that includes Pups and Wannabes too since your contributions have always been as good or better than mine.

Semper Fi Marines and Thank You All Others

Jim

[Parker-0321]

Hope these aren't too big..









Couple pics from my trip to Iwo Jima. Thats Mt. Suribachi and PFC Parker where the flag was raised

[jinelson]

Awesome and Moto!

Jim

[Master Sephiroth]

Place is beautiful. Who'd have thought that sixty-three years ago, this was the site of one of the bloodiest conflicts in the entire war; the place where Medal of Honor recipient, PFC. Lucas nearly sacrificed himself (and damn well meant to) to save his fellow Marines; and the place where five Marines and a Corpsman raised the stars and stripes on top of a mountain, telling old Tojo that his end was nigh. Certainly a very motivating photograph.

[Parker-0321]

Glad I could share those with ya'll. I've got more pics and some video of the island. We crawled through what felt like 50 miles of tunnels.

[jinelson]

Just to heal a tortured heart

by SSgt. LeMay USMC

Just to heal the tortured heart: I will relay a hero chart
You know the Marines are built to part
Every two, they deploy to be smart
In preparation they do train, every clime to be prepared.
Come March, they did arrive to impart
A relief to the Army, so they could depart
To see those heroes souls to America cart
Though not to happen, a plan designed the ground be shared.
In the year 04, they felt this change start
Commander Bush needed our best to, again, depart
To fight with vigilant resolve to dart
The insurgent evil in Falloujah was despaired.
As the fight progressed, the public felt this heart
In every note, or news, all felt apart
The headquarters sorted those that would be marte
And every Marine's work to execute was totally squared.
The battle was pit, as the strategy of tacticians prepared a flip-chart
1st Marines collected prepared to battle this jarvik-heart
As deemed in history, day one saw the honor of the purple-heart
With honor and resolve the Marines did as were dared.
Marines, in true tradition, fashioned their tart
As Echo Company dispatched to mark a head-start
While pinned in an alley, some lost, they diverted with some martial art
Response came to alert, as the enemy strength was stared.
Never to lose their spirit, the Marines advanced on belly to take freedom-heart
Upon a mission devised for compassion, and right-smart
One designed and focused as of Descartes
As the news chatter continued; as politicians compared.
The pundits did chatter in struggle to take part
Of an American election soon to be fought, seeking victory in-part
Upon the lonesome, tough work of heroes a-la-carte
The unfettered Marines continued the fight to restore those spared.
In the Sunni Triangle...the war did impart
Marines doing business without a star-chart
For the love of each other and nation, always state-of-the-art
They pitted their trained skill to destroy the evil laird.
Marines doing business to secure a good start
Crawling, sleepless to prepare love and heart
In a nation of turmoil, skillfully to avoid the destruction to tear-apart
Brave warriors shared, to restore a rose where thorns were shared.
A mother's love is always perceived pure within her heart
While a Marine's mother's love remains hard to pick-apart
The loss of courageous souls of the future provides a kick-start
And carries forward a mission of purpose-n-resolve;
That the history of such heroes always be aired.