Old
salt remembers
the
long, the short, and the tall
and an
adventure *
(*
From my “USMC Comat Tour Haiku Trilogy” blogged here in 2015)
Battalion Landing Team 3/5 as a Special Landing Force aboard LPH-5 USS Princeton (‘Nam 1966)
It was sometime in mid-1966, somewhere off the Vietnam coast, we
were returning to our ship after another search and destroy operation. As I
stepped onto the deck, and knowing most of the deck crew from my helicopter
guard duty while on the ship, I could see the startled expression on a
swabbie’s face. Not knowing if it was the aroma from fifteen days of sweat, gunpowder, insect
repellent and rice paddy mud or the unshaven face, I just grinned. Recognizing
me, he said “Hey Jarhead, what did you do, scare ’em to death?” I replied
“Yeah, VC number ten.” He then said “I’ve got the latest scuttlebutt.” I
replied dryly “What’s that, some chicken shit inspection?” He laughed and said
“No, we’re floating back to Subic to confuse enemy observers for a few days and
having liberty call instead of training.”
Ski, our wireman, said he knew the perfect place for us to go and unwind.
Ski, our wireman, said he knew the perfect place for us to go and unwind.
As we entered the Philippine waters we floated by the USS
Enterprise and it felt like we were on a tug boat. Soon as the ship docked,
“Cinderella Liberty” was sounded and five of us headed directly to the best
off-limits, restricted slop chute in the Olongapo City’s wild side.
After a few boisterous hours of flowing booze, a classic, all-out brawl
started. Broken bottles, tables, chairs, fists and bodies flying, Uncle Sam’s
Misguided Children, the squid sea going bellhops, some mean local patrons and
everyone else . . . I felt like it was an episode of ”McHales Navy.”
So I said to myself “Self . . . What stupid? . . . this is getting risky, and that naive, prick sergeant (personalities clash from day one, I had one he didn’t) would love to see me get office hours,” so out the back door I went and somehow made it back to the ship on time.
So I said to myself “Self . . . What stupid? . . . this is getting risky, and that naive, prick sergeant (personalities clash from day one, I had one he didn’t) would love to see me get office hours,” so out the back door I went and somehow made it back to the ship on time.
Once on board, I waited by the gang plank for Ski and the rest
of the group who returned in a Shore Patrol paddy wagon. After taking some
ribbing for leaving the festivities early, I just said I’m planning on keeping
my remaining supply of odds against danger for the combat zone.
No bullshit GI.
No bullshit GI.
A. L. SYOR
Great
story. Great memories. I think any of us could hav written it at that time.
Thanks for recharging my batteries. At that time: PFC Mike Hayes, Fox Battery
2/11/BLT3/5
Yep, the youthful adventures of
“everyman” Marines! Semper Fi
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