THANK'S MARINE

THANK'S MARINE BY: PHILIP NELL

THANKS MARINE; I NEEDED THAT

It was May, 1965, and most of us at the Camp Pendleton Marine Corp base in Las Pulgas, California had never heard of Vietnam. But, we were on our way; eager, ready and able. This is what we were trained for; this is what we knew. But, my story isn't about what happened in Vietnam, but, in San Diego California. You see, I wasn't afraid to go to Vietnam; I was afraid to come home!

While on patrol in Vietnam, I was separated from my outfit. It wasn't a bullet that got me, but an organism. I had Amebic Dysentery. Some rice paddy water seeped into my canteen, and drinking it caused me to bleed profusely from the rectum. The guys thought I was hit during a fire fight and not knowing why I was bleeding, sent me to Da Nang; from there to Clark Air Force base hospital in the Philippines; and then on to Yukasuka, Japan for three months. When I began to recover, my tour of duty was over and I was shipped to Okinawa. From there, I boarded the U.S.S. Gordon to return to the states.

It was a 21 day trip, so we had a lot of time to think. I didn't know any of these guys. They, like me, were all separated somehow from their outfits; wounded, maimed, disoriented etc. But, there was one thing we all had in common; Looking over the bow of the ship at the gray deepness of the South China Sea, were empty, silent expressions; all were staring at the distant horizon.

We heard scuttlebutt form home that some of the ships that docked before ours were greeted by anti-war demonstrators, throwing rocks and garbage; calling us killers. God, just the thought of that hurt!

Since my family lived in New York, I knew there would be no one there to greet me; no one friendly, that is. We had a ship's movie; John Wayne in "she wore a yellow ribbon". I saw it six times. There was no radio way out at sea to entertain us, but we listened to the static, waiting. Then one glorious morning it happened; we heard the Mamma's and the Papa's singing "Monday, Monday". There was a roar of cheers all over the ship.

We were approaching Hawaii about 9:00 AM Monday in July, 1966. After a brief stop in Honolulu, we headed for San Diego; a few more days of silence; then we landed. There was only a handful of people. It depressed me to look at all the long faces, but at least, no demonstrators. Then, it happened! A sight and sound I'll never forget. The Marine Corp band marched out playing our hymn. Then more Marines and civilians came into view, shouting, waving, crying, and throwing kisses. As the ship docked, I picked up my sea bag with all my worldly possessions and proceeded to disembark. Then, surprisingly, the new recruits from San Diego Boot Camp marched in; came to attention, and saluted us. What a beautiful site! How familiar!

I stared into these young proud faces as we walked down the gang plank. Then suddenly the recruits broke ranks like scurrying ants and came towards us. One of these young recruits approached me, took my sea bag and said: "I'll carry that for you Sir". I replied, "you don't have to call me sir; I'm just a Corporal". He said: "you're more that that; you are a Marine and it is my honor to serve you".

As I followed this young man I noticed that other recruits, one by one, were helping the rest of us as we left the ship. Even though no one in my family was there to share it with me, I had never been so proud to be a Marine. I know I could never aspire to become anything that would give me such a thrill. I put my hand on his shoulder, stopped him and called him what he had never been called before (recruits are never referred to as Marines) I said:

"THANKS MARINE, I NEEDED THAT".

Philip D. Nell Formally, Corporal U.S.M.C. Marines F-2-7, (FOX Co., 2nd Battalion, 7th Regiment, 1st Marine Div.)