Old Picture of Marine

Life was simple in those times. Pay was just beginning to get respectable as I approached two years in-service, non-commissioned officer privileges, and plenty of duty stations and travel left to do. I was a "salt"-- relatively speaking in deference to all you "old Corps Marines." Utilities had cloth name tags sewn on by Okinawan naisons, and after thirteen months on the "Rock" they were bleached nearly white.

As men of "Horrible Hog," 2d Battalion, 9th Marines, 3d Marine Division, we exhibited all those characteristics that showed a Fleet Marine Force, Pacific, Marine. We'd survived all the training directed by LtGen. Victor "Brute" Krulak, we'd mastered all the techniques he'd offered in his preparations to get us ready for war. All the time we'd spent training; cold-weather at Mt. Fuji, Japan, jungle survival in the Philippines, topped by all the exercises staged at NTA (Northern Training Area) north of home base, Camp Hansen, made us fit and ready to respond to any duty our country called us to.

We knew something was up, scuttlebutt was always insinuating that trouble was brewing. We had Marines joining us or coming through that were wearing Armed Forces Expeditionary Medals, Purple Hearts, Bronze Stars, and other medals we didn't rate (not even the National Defense Service Medal at that time!!). They'd share their experiences, telling how being an advisor there was outstanding duty. The pay was tax-free, combat pay was $65.00 extra a month, and you didn't have to put stamps on your letters. Well sure, sometimes you'd get shot at, and the "facilities" were not exactly up to "snuff," but what the heck, that's what we were paid for, wasn't it? We weren't totally in the dark about the situation though, we'd spent time as a floating battalion off the coast of what we called Vietnam, but we just didn't know. It was sudden but not without surprise when the place took on new meaning. In 1965, President Johnson decided that we must assist the South Vietnamese in their armed struggle with North Vietnam. The rest is history.

This picture was taken in a sari store in Olongapo, Philippines while we were tied up at the Subic Bay Naval Base. It must have been early because the khakis still look starched. I walked over the bridge to the 'ville many times, survived the "monkey meat," San Miguel, and British Royal Marines. The dusty streets and lilting Spanish and Tagalog still are in my head. The photograph; it survived, I try.

With respect, Semper Fidelis, Leonard Bruguier

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14 September 1998, lrb