Leatherneck Article Topic: General Interest

Aboard Marine Corps Base Camp Pendleton, Calif., one training company is tasked with produc­ing a coveted and demanding Marine specialty—elite among the elite.

Reconnaissance Training Company (RTC), nestled within the School of Infantry-West, holds sole responsibility for transforming Marines into 0321 Re­connaissance Marines. Prospective candidates endure a rigorous training pipeline. They must volunteer for a shot at the advanced qualification, and RTC representatives extend the opportunity to Marines of nearly every Military Occupational Specialty (MOS).

Following completion of basic combat training, volunteers enter an additional 18 weeks of training and assessment. The Recon Training Assessment Program is a grueling five weeks, pushing Marines to the limit and screening out any who will not make the cut. The Basic Recon­naissance Course (BRC) follows. In 13 weeks, the same amount of time spent in Boot Camp, RTC staff completes the transformation.

From the moment they step on the yellow footprints at Parris Island or San Diego, to graduation day at BRC, Recon Marines endure nearly 40 weeks of continuous training to earn their MOS. BRC graduates have only just begun their journey, however, and remain unqualified to enter the Fleet Marine Forces. An additional six months of training must be completed. All 0321s earn their jump wings at Basic Airborne Course and Multi-Mission Parachute Course, their dive qualification at Marine Combatant Diver Course, and pass through two weeks of hell at Survival, Evasion, Resist­ance, and Escape (SERE) School. Only then is a newly minted Recon Marine fully qualified for assignment to a fleet Reconnaissance Battalion.

The advanced training and stringent requirements exist as a result of the com­munity’s experience in combat and their mission as the Marine Corps special operations-capable force. The activation of Marine Forces Special Operations Command (MARSOC) came about large­ly through the reassignment of Force Recon or Recon Battalion Marines to the MARSOC pilot program known as “Det One” in 2003. Again, several years later, 1st and 2nd Force Recon Companies saw wholesale deactivation and redesignation to create the genesis of the Marine Spe­cial Operations Battalions. Today, Marine Raiders exist as an elite force of warriors operating under the purview of U.S. Spe­cial Operations Command (USSOCOM). They are, in effect, Special Operations forces who happen to be Marines. Recon Battalions exist within the USMC chain of command, operating at the will of for­ward deployed commanders.

Recon Marines have always been, and remain today, the special operations-capable force of the Marine Corps. The community traces its lineage back to the Amphibious Reconnaissance Battalion of World War II. The Vietnam War, brought about the most significant evolution in Recon doctrine and cemented their role in the Corps’ mission. It’s been 50 years since Recon procedures and tactics were written, but the lessons learned remain critical today. Despite the advent of new technologies, weapons and entirely new battle spaces, the key attributes that de­fine a Recon Marine or corpsman remain unchanged and are amplified as the Recon community looks toward the future.

The Corps began a dramatic reshaping and reorganization several years ago under Force Design 2030 (FD2030). The advance technologies and new adversaries shaping tomorrow’s war initiated changes felt across the fleet, affecting each Ma­rine, down to the individual rifleman. While many MOSs now look significantly different, or even simply no longer exist, the Reconnaissance community dis­covered in its future a return to its roots established in the jungles of Southeast Asia. Retired Force Recon Marine Jose “Pep” Tablada III, currently serves in a crucial role to the advancement of FD2030. Tablada spent 13 years as a Force Recon Marine, deploying in sup­port of Operation Iraqi Freedom and being named the Force Recon Team Leader of the Year twice before his med­ical retirement in 2005. Since then, Tablada has held a series of civilian roles within Marine Forces Pacific (MAR­FORPAC), presently working as the deputy assistant chief of staff for Oper­ations of all Marine Corps forces in the Indo-Pacific region. He was part of a team hand-picked by General David H. Berger, the 38th Commandant of the Ma­rine Corps, tasked with devising the strategies for future warfare and working with I and III Marine Expeditionary Forces to implement force modernization and forward posturing in the Pacific.

“Recon Marines primarily focus on deep reconnaissance, battle space shap­ing, and direct action precision raids,” Tablada explained. “In the traditional sense, much of the deep recon and battle space shaping missions remain the same as in Vietnam. What is very different is the fight we are in today is much, much more advanced. You’ll hear detachments getting deployed today being called, ‘All-Domain Reconnaissance,’ and the reason why that’s different is because Marines and Sailors today have the technology and training to bring cyber, signals in­telligence, and space capabilities to the fight. It’s amazing what today’s Recon­naissance Marines can do.”

Detachments from Recon Battalions deploy with each Marine Expeditionary Unit (MEU), as well as in support of numerous other specified tasks around the world. While the naming of these detachments varies depending on the parent command of the MEU, the func­tion is identical. A host of “enablers” de­ploy alongside them, such as cyber or signals intel-trained Marines, allowing this special-purpose force to conduct a wide variety of missions. The detach­ments train for maritime-specific direct action raids, such as gas and oil platform seizure and “Visit, Board, Search, and Seizure” (VBSS) to support interdiction operations of a naval vessel. Technologies such as satellites and drones assist them in locating the enemy, understanding what they are doing, and directing other friendly forces within the battle space. The ideas surrounding deep reconnais­sance in a future war present a different set of challenges.

“The next war in the Pacific will look different from anything we experienced in the Global War on Terror,” Tablada said. “Small units will be dispersed across a large area. They will have to be independent in austere environments, on their own for long periods of time, and possessing their own means of mobility. There will be limited or no resupply, and no Forward Operating Base to return to in many instances. Imagine a Recon de­tachment having its own long-range maneuver platform, like a modernized PT boat from WW II. They go out in the waterways and the littorals of the Western Pacific searching for maritime targets. They’re going to use their all-domain capabilities to find those targets, fix those targets, create targeting data, then hand it off to the bomber or the submarine or the cyber strike to destroy it. This doc­trine is new in terms of the expansiveness of what will be expected from a Recon detachment. They will have to operate truly independently of the commander’s intent. Not only will they have to com­plete the mission, but they will have to figure out how to sustain themselves for longer periods. They will have to be smart, resilient, and professionally aggressive with a mature sense of tactical judgement.”

As new doctrines progressed, Colonel Robert J. Coates, USMC (Ret), recognized a potential area for improvement in the Recon training pipeline. During more than 32 years on active duty, Coates served as the officer in charge of the Amphibious Reconnaissance School, commanding officer of 1st Force Recon­naissance Company, and later as CO of the MARSOC pilot program, “Det One.” In 2016, Coates was inducted into the USSOCOM Commando Hall of Honor. He is one of only nine Marine inductees since it was established in 2010. Other inductees include well-known Marines: Evans Carlson, James Capers and John Ripley.

Now in retirement, Coates continues serving the Marine Corps as a mentor to deploying MEUs and Special Purpose Marine Air Ground Task Forces, includ­ing their respective Recon Battalion de­tachments. He understood the role of deep reconnaissance was not going away, and the only place in history to find the experience was Vietnam. Throughout the Global War on Terror, the mission set dealt to Recon focused heavily on direct action raids against insurgent leadership. They simply did not operate within the battle space in the same way Marines did during Vietnam, nor will they be expected to in the future.

Coates remembered his own Recon instructors as a young Marine growing up, veterans of the early 1960s and 70s, immensely proud of their service. They exacted standards of perfection in ap­pearance, discipline and physical fitness. Even years later when he was a colonel in charge of 1st Force Recon, Vietnam vet­erans continually impressed him by visiting the company offices and attend­ing company functions in order to remain connected to the community and support active-duty Marines. Being a Marine remained the most defining and profound experience of their lives, and despite the decades passed, they continued to un­selfishly give back to the Corps. As Coates considered the details of creating a professional military education (PME) on Vietnam-era reconnaissance, and who to lead it, he requested help from a per­sonal friend and mentor: legendary Re­con Marine, Sergeant Robert Buda.

Buda’s name is no stranger to Leatherneck readers. Stories of his combat exploits are told in “First to Fight: First Force Reconnaissance in Hue City” (February 2018), and “The Flying Ladder: Emergency Extractions and the Lifesaver from the Sky” (April 2018). During 13 months in country with 1st Force Recon Company, Buda took part in 46 long-range recon patrols along the Laotian border, six combat dive missions, and earned two Bronze Stars with combat “V.” He extended his tour to remain in country, but received his third Purple Heart in January 1969 and was sent home.

As a team leader on deep reconnais­sance patrols among large North Viet­namese Army (NVA) formations and staging areas, Buda faced decisions and situations that seem insurmountable. His experience and point of view offered the perfect vehicle to communicate the lessons learned from Vietnam, serving as a living link between the past, present and future of Marine Reconnaissance. Buda developed a class to present to the students of BRC. He based the content on a series of his patrols that best illustrated the role of Recon, the discipline and atti­tude so vital to success and the types of challenges Marines could one day face in combat. To get the class financially backed and implemented, the RTC cadre turned to Jose Tablada. In addition to his senior role with MARFORPAC, Tablada serves as the president of the Marine Recon Foundation (MRF), a nonprofit organization doing impressive work within the community.

MRF is fully staffed by volunteers—­­primarily of retired staff noncommis­sioned and commissioned officers. Even though they exist on behalf of a relatively small contingent of active duty or vet­erans, the organization has accumulated astounding support. MRF maintains over 325,000 followers between Facebook and Insta­gram. They operationally support, co­ordinate, and when necessary, finance a seemingly endless list of programs that provide tangible and immediate help to Reconnaissance Marines, Special Am­phib­ious Reconnaissance Corpsmen, and their families.

Marines take part in the Recon Challenge at MCB Camp Pen­dle­ton, Calif., sponsored by the Marine Recon Founda­tion. The 14th annual event took place in April. (Photos courtesy of Marine Recon Foundation)

The foundation offers reoccurring pro­grams, including retreats for wounded veterans and Gold Star families, and the annual “Recon Challenge” in California. They also provide emergency support to Marines in crisis; for example, helping rebuild the life and home of a Marine and his family after fire destroyed their house or covering the funeral expenses for a Marine lost to suicide and establishing college investment accounts for his children left behind.

The foundation’s final line of effort is dedicated to promoting and preserving the legacy of the Recon community. They accomplish this task through written narratives, audio and video recordings of veterans to capture their experiences, and sponsoring mentorship events where veterans are brought in to speak with active-duty Marines.

Major James Capers, Lieutenant Col­onel George “Digger” O’Dell, and Col Robert Coates are a few of the Marines who participate in mentorship events. Master Sergeant Earl Plumlee, USA, also attends. Before receiving the Medal of Honor as an Army Special Forces soldier, Plumlee served as a Reconnaissance Ma­rine, earning Recon Team Leader of the Year in 2008. He credited his gunfighting skills to his time with Force Recon.

“A lot of Americans don’t know Ma­rine Recon history,” Tablada said. “A lot of Marines don’t know Marine Recon history, and frankly, some of the young Marines and Sailors in Recon don’t know the rich lineage and storied history of their community. We are brought up to be silent professionals. We don’t have a lot of books, there’s no calendars, we aren’t talking on the news. A lot of people just don’t really understand what Marine Reconnaissance is, so through our men­tor­ship program, we send these legends of our history, these senior mentors, down to the active-duty Marines in the fleet or at the schoolhouse to talk to them about their experiences and lessons learned in combat.”

Through the mentorship program, MRF coordinated with RTC staff and arranged for Bob Buda to travel to Camp Pendleton and present his pilot class. The first PME took place in July for a BRC class nearing graduation. Buda walked the students through the evolution of recon tactics in Vietnam, explaining some of the tragic events that led to the successful implementation of standard procedures, such as operating in larger teams, and the immediate action of ex­treme violence and huge amounts of fire power on enemy contact to stun the enemy and give the team a chance to escape. He covered several specific long-range Recon missions in which he took part, including the missions covered by Leatherneck in previous stories. These case studies presented the students with real situations that can be faced in combat, and the types of challenges they could encounter.

“When you’re out on a long-range Re­con mission, the terrain and environment will often be harder to deal with than the enemy,” Buda stated. “It’s just extreme hardship, and you have to learn to develop the right attitude in your head.”

The class was so well-received that RTC staff invited Buda back the follow­ing month to present to the students of the Recon Team Leader’s Course. This more senior group of warriors also in­cluded USSOCOM Special Operations Forces personnel from other branches of service. Buda tailored his presentation to highlight the vital role the team leader plays in the success or defeat, life or death, of their team.

Combat decision making occupied a central theme in the team leader’s course presentation. To open the discussion, Buda presented the group with a case study on one of his patrols where a Ma­rine was killed by enemy fire after the team encountered a NVA antiaircraft gun that was turned on them. The Marines successfully eliminated the gun with nothing but their organic small arms, the only Force Recon team known to have accomplished such a feat. Despite the victory, Buda faced numerous decisions that day that as the team leader, only he could have made. His choices held direct and immediate sway over the lives of his teammates. To this day, he wrestles with the choices he made, debating if they were correct and if he should have done something differently. These cir­cumstances and thought processes were candidly presented to the students to demonstrate the kinds of situations they will face in the field.

“The most important concept we try to push into the students in BRC, and more importantly the team leaders, is to implant and enhance the concept of the recon brotherhood and the proper team spirit, which is vital to conduct real long-range Reconnaissance missions in the most hostile and challenging environ­ments in the world,” said Buda.

“Attitude and team spirit; those words are easy to say, but the team leader must develop those in order to succeed.”

To close his presentation, Buda high­lighted the importance of training your replacement and discussed the warrior who raised him in the field. Buda served as a junior Force Recon Marine under Lawrence H. Livingston. Livingston even­tually retired as a giant of the Corps; a Major General, two-war veteran, and recipient of five Purple Hearts, four Bronze Stars, a Silver Star, and a Navy Cross. In Vietnam, Livingston was a staff sergeant who taught Buda how to run point on patrols, and eventually, how to lead a recon team in the jungle. When the Corps plucked Livingston from combat to return home for officer training, he selected Buda to replace him as team leader. Livingston passed away in 2018 at the age of 77. Buda dedicated his presen­tation in Livingston’s memory.

With the experience of these two classes, Buda continues working to im­prove the lesson content for future itera­tions. Tablada and the MRF are com­mitted to sustaining this type of activity as part of their historic preserva­tion line of effort and the Recon Mentor Program. At a minimum, Buda hopes to continue presenting the class as a stand­ard PME included in the biannual team leader’s course.

Marines of every MOS take pride in our history and bear the responsibility of honoring the service of those who went before. The Recon community to­day ex­emplifies an enduring truth; no matter what may change in weaponry or tech­nology, Marines today fight as part of the same spirit and enduring legacy, and Marines of eras past are their backbone, offering experience and wisdom from combat that no one else can provide. There are many warriors from Vietnam, like Bob Buda, who volunteer their ex­per­ience today for the good of the Corps. The Recon Marines preparing for tomor­row’s war will reap immense benefit from hearing his firsthand account of what they will face in combat.

“At the end of the day, it isn’t going to matter how many new accoutrements you have that make you pretty, what rank you are, or how many accolades you may have achieved,” Buda reflected. “At the end of the day, when you’re out of water, out of ammo, you’re starving, surrounded by bad guys, can’t get extracted, soaked by rain, covered in bugs, mud, and shrapnel wounds, the only thing that will sustain you in that environment is if you have deeply cultivated the proper attitude in your team, where they look to each other in those absolutely destitute conditions and someone cracks a contagious smile. You can’t talk. Everything has to be done through hand signals and mental telepathy, but everyone is smiling at each other thinking, ‘I’m ready, and we are still in this fight. Love you brother.’ ”

Author’s bio: Kyle Watts is the staff writer for Leatherneck. He served on active duty in the Marine Corps as a communications officer from 2009-2013. He is the 2019 winner of the Colonel Robert Debs Heinl Jr. Award for Marine Corps history. He lives in Richmond, Va., with his wife and three children.

As the Marine Corps has shifted its focus toward forward deployed expeditionary forces at strategic points in the Pacific, particularly Guam, it is worth looking at what occurred there in the first few days after Pearl Harbor was bombed in 1941.

Because Guam fell quickly, histories of the period have largely treated the event as little more than a footnote. As a result, very few people are aware of the brief but furious and courageous defense by fewer than 100 Marines, Sailors and Guamanian Insular Guardsmen in the early morning hours of Dec. 10, 1941, at the Plaza de Espana in the capital of Agana. All lacked combat experience and some Guardsmen were without weapons. The Guardsmen had never fired their three machine guns. Outnumbered more than four to one, outgunned and facing almost suicidal odds, the steadfast defenders displayed extraordinary courage in standing their ground. None deserted their post, and all performed their duty.

The Marine NCOs and junior enlisted defending the Plaza displayed exceptional heroism despite believing they had no chance of survival, even if captured. As hundreds of Japanese troops descended on the Plaza, Sergeant George Shane, lead­er of the Marine Insular Patrol de­fenders was quoted in “Captured: The Forgotten Men of Guam” as saying, “On a scale of one to 10, our pucker factor was a 15 at that instant.” While the Japanese would claim their occupation of Guam was “bloodless,” official historian Samuel Eliot Morrison noted, “Both the Ameri­cans and Chamorros put up a brave resist­ance and twice drove the attacking force back with rifle and machine-gun fire, losing 17 of their men but killing and wound­ing a much greater number of Japanese.”

Guam, an American territory since 1898, is the southernmost island in the Marianas chain and is a mountainous island with jungle 20 miles long and a width of 12 miles or less. The population in 1941 was some 23,000, consisting main­­ly of native Chamorros and a few hundred Americans, mostly Navy and Marine personnel, civilian construction workers and a few employees of Pan Am who operated a seaplane Clipper service and small hotel for passengers transiting the Pacific. The capital and largest city is Agana on Guam’s north coast, located about 5 miles north of Apra harbor. In 1941, there was no airfield or American air forces on the island. By the terms of the 1922 Washington Naval Conference, the United States was not permitted to fortify Guam, so there were no coastal gun emplacements in 1941. As a result, the defensive capabilities were wholly inadequate to defend the island.

This fact was painfully obvious to the Governor of Guam, Navy Captain George J. McMillin, who was responsible for civil and military administration but not tactical command of Navy and Marine forces. CAPT McMillin realized that the island could not be successfully defended against a determined Japanese invasion. To avoid unnecessary loss of lives, he planned to surrender the island quickly with minimal resistance should the Japa­nese land. As the island’s chief executive, he had direct authority over the Marine Insular Patrol whose force of 28 Marines supported by Navy corpsmen performed police duties at Agana and around the island. The Insular Patrol of 30 enlisted U.S. Marines armed only with pistols was commanded by McMillin’s military aide, Captain Charles S. Todd, USMC. Its day-to-day operations were directed by the assistant chief of the In­sular Patrol, Sgt Shane. Marines and corps­men were assigned to posts around the island with native members of the Patrol. The re­main­ing Marines were at the Guard bar­racks in Agana. There they would play a key role, along with the Navy admin­istered Guam Insular Force Guard and other Marines and Sailors in the fight against the Japanese in the Plaza de Espana.

The U.S. Naval force consisted of 20 Naval officers, six warrant officers and 220 enlisted Sailors. The force operated from a small Piti Naval Yard in Apra Harbor, the old minesweeper USS Penguin (AM-33) with four officers and 75 enlisted men; two old yard patrol craft, each with a five-man crew; and a small disabled oiler, USS Robert L. Barnes (AG-27), used for training mainly Chamorro mess­men for duty with the U.S. fleet. In ad­dition, there were naval staff at the gov­ernor’s office and a wireless naval com­munications facility, Radio Agana, with 22 Sailors not far from the Plaza in Agana. There was also a smaller naval wireless station 2 miles from Agana called Radio Libugan, a facility staffed with eight enlisted Sailors and used for finding the Japanese fleet. There was a naval hospital in Agana with a staff who provided medical care to military personnel and local populace.

The Navy-administered Guam In­su­lar Force of 222 native Guardsmen, including bandsmen and hospital medical orderlies, were housed in Agana. They were or­ganized and led by their training officer, Chief Boatswain Mate Robert B. Lane, and under the overall command of Com­mander Donald T. Giles, the gov­ernor’s civil aide and second in command. This small force protected the Piti Naval Base and Government House while patrolling around the island. They wore Navy uni­forms and had Navy ranks. Their arma­ment included three .30-caliber machine guns, four Thompson submachine guns, six Browning automatic pistols, 50 .30-cal. pistols, a dozen .22-cal. rifles, and 85 Springfield ’03 rifles marked “For Training Only. Do Not Fire.” As there were not enough weapons, some Guards­men were not armed. The force had been expanded only a few months earlier, lacked training in the use of their weapons and had never fired their machine guns.

The island’s Marine Barracks detach­ment of six officers and 118 enlisted Ma­rines (less 31 assigned to the Marine Insular Patrol) were quartered in a two-story barracks at Sumay on the Orote Peninsula, located on a bluff overlooking Apra Harbor. Commanded by Lieutenant Colonel William Kirk MacNulty, USMC, they were armed with M1903 Springfield rifles and 10 Lewis machine guns. Though the Marine detachment was the principal ground defense force, they had no mor­tars, artillery or antiaircraft guns.

Prior to Pearl Harbor, there was no ef­fort to dig entrenchments, roadblocks or beach defenses. The only entrench­ments were the rifle range butts on the Orote Penin­sula overlooking Apra Harbor. With war looming, all military and civilian de­­pendents were evacuated in October. The Marine Sumay detach­ment’s pre-war activities, aside from occasional rifle range practice, were per­forming weekly parades and close order marching and pro­­viding music and trans­port for the Naval staff. Duties usual­ly ended at noon. No tactical training or maneuvers were conducted. After duty hours, many Ma­rines hung out at Ben’s Bar in nearby Sumay town where beer was 10 cents. The bar was operated by a Japanese man whom everyone called Ben Cook (who turned out to be a Japanese Naval officer working as a spy). As one detachment Ma­­­rine commented in Roger Mansell’s book “Captured: The Forgotten Men of Guam,” pre-war Guam was “truly a paradise.”

As tensions with Japan rose with war warnings came from Washington, Japa­nese observation planes from Saipan flew over Guam daily. LtCol MacNulty met with the Pan Am Station Manager, Charles Gregg, during the last week of November and informed him that a Japanese attack was imminent and, if it happened, his Marine force would be in command of all government personnel with plans to evacuate American civil­ians. The Marines began improving de­fenses at their rifle range. They were is­sued ammunition and kept their weapons and ammo under their beds. The com­mand was making plans to cache a week’s worth of food at select remote locations to enable personnel to hold out for rescue by the Navy.

When the invasion did occur, there was no time for MacNulty to coordinate de­fensive actions. While the Americans still hoped that ongoing negotiations with Japan in Washington would forestall war, on Dec. 6, Governor McMillin ordered the destruction of all classified documents on the island to prevent them from falling into Japanese hands.

While this was happening, the Japanese were making final preparations for the invasion of Guam. The principle invasion unit was the South Seas Detachment under Major General Tomitaro Horii. It included the 144th Infantry Regiment and other units from the 55th Division, with a total of 4,886 men who were aboard ships in the Bonin Islands. They would be accompanied by a supporting force, the 370-man strong 5th Company (also called the 5th Special Force) of the 2nd Maizuru Special Naval Landing Force, commanded from Saipan by Naval Captain Hiromi Hayashi.

The two forces would be transported to Guam on nine transports escorted by the Japanese Fourth Fleet’s heavy cruiser Aoba, destroyers Yuzuki, Kihuzuki, Uzuki and Oboro, four gunboats, five subchasers, a minesweeper squadron and other auxiliaries, with air support from the 18th Naval Air Corps at Saipan. This oversized landing force was being employed because the Japanese believed (strangely because of their careful sur­veil­lance of the island) that there were 300 Marines and 1,500 armed native de­fenders on Guam. Major General Horii assumed that the main resistance would be by the Marine detachment on the Orote Peninsula.

For Guam, the war commenced at 5:27 a.m. on Monday, Dec. 8, 1941, (Dec.7 at Pearl Harbor across the International Dateline) when the Navy Communications Office at Agana received a teletype mes­sage from Admiral Thomas C. Hart, commander of the Asiatic Fleet tersely stating “Japan Started Hostilities. Govern yourself accordingly.” Guam was also notified of the Pearl Harbor attack. The radio operator immediately notified McMillin and MacNulty. There was an immediate attempt by radio to alert the minesweeper USS Penguin, which was on patrol around the island, but the ship’s radio was not being monitored at that time. McMillin notified Commander Donald T. Giles, who was responsible for the Insular Guard, and his military aide, Capt Todd, that Pearl Harbor was being attacked. Various posts were notified by phone until Japanese saboteurs or bombs cut the phone lines about 7:30 a.m., which caused the use of runners. Todd was directed to have his Insular Guard Force arrest all Japanese who were quickly rounded up and put in the Agana jail. The governor also ordered the residents of Agana, Agat and other towns to evacuate and most fled into the jungle and mountains.

USS Penguin tied up at its buoy about 8 a.m. where a launch arrived with a mes­sage informing the captain, Lieutenant J.W. Haviland, of the Pearl Harbor attack. At 8:27 a.m., 18 Japanese seaplane bomb­ers and fighters attacked various points including the Libugan radio station, with­out effect, and Agana, Sumay and USS Penguin. Three Japanese fighters made two passes at Penguin, whose crew tried to fight back with their antiaircraft gun. One Japanese plane was hit but not ob­served to go down. The gun crew com­mander, Ensign White, was killed by straf­ing. Three bombs exploded close to the ship, inflicting leaks in the hull. Three crewmen, including Haviland, were in­jured. Haviland ordered the ship to be scuttled and the seacocks were opened while the crew boarded a life raft or swam to shore. The Pan Am hotel was also at­tacked and destroyed, with loss of civilian life.

For Marines at Sumay, the day began with the usual early reveille followed by breakfast. Many Ma­rines were still in the barracks when the Japanese bombed the barracks at 7:27 a.m., even though MacNulty had been alerted before 6 a.m. Some Marines ran out in skivvies and began firing their rifles at the low flying planes. Three Ma­rines were seriously wounded while run­ning across the golf course to seek pro­tection in nearby thick­ets. A bomb ex­plod­ing 10 feet from the barracks’ radio shack mortally wounded Corporal Harry E. Anderson, who died at the hos­pital a few days later.

That afternoon, the Japanese also bombed several coastal villages, some of which would be landing points for the Japanese. Until about 5 p.m., more bombs were dropped around Agana but only one building was destroyed. Their bombing of Agana was opposed by antiaircraft fire from a machine gun that lacked a tripod and was manually mounted on a ledge atop the old Spanish fort above Agana. Manned by Marine Private First Class Knute Hanson, he was certain that he downed at least one Japanese aircraft.

That evening McMillin conferred with his officers and informed them that he had obtained per­mission from Admiral Hart to give up the island without resist­ance when the Japanese landed. MacNulty disagreed and insisted that his Marines would not surrender without a fight. It was agreed that only a token resistance would be offered, and that the Marine detachment would defend the Orote Peninsula and the approaches to Sumay and Apra Harbor. The Guam Insular Guard and Insular Patrol along with Sailors from Penguin and from the Gov­ernment House would be concen­trated at the Plaza in Agana where they would set up defenses. Preparations would be made to destroy equipment to prevent it from falling into Japanese hands. The Guam Insular Guard was recalled to the Plaza at Agana and Todd was instructed to recall the remote Insular Patrol Ma­rines and native Guardsmen, but he disregarded the instructions. He and Sgt Shane drove to the outposts but only in­structed the native Patrol members to assemble at Agana. According to author Tony Palomo’s “An Island in Agony,” Shane disagreed with the decision, feel­ing that the Marines at those posts would have a better chance at the Plaza. How­ever, events proved Todd was correct.

During the night, CAPT McMillin received a report that the Guam Insular Patrol had apprehended three men who had landed in a dugout canoe during the night near Ritidian Point at the northern end of the island. They were brought to the government house for questioning by McMillin and his staff. Local Chamorros identified the men as Chamorros who were native to Saipan but had relatives on Guam. The men stated that they were sent to be interpreters for the Japanese landing force which would land the next morning at Dungcas Beach, about a mile up the shore from Agana. When asked by McMillin why they were offering this information, they said that on Saipan the Chamorros were treated like slaves by the Japanese. They apparently believed what they said even though the invasion did not actually start until the day after. Both McMillin and MacNulty were skeptical and thought the infiltrators were trying to draw the Marines away from the Orote Peninsula. No effort was made to set up defenses at Dungcas beach.

Bombing resumed at 8:30 a.m. the following day against the same targets, along with the Government House in Agana and some scattered air attacks at villages around the island. The Marine barracks was damaged along with the Pan Am Air installation and the Standard Oil tanks, which had already been hit and set afire the previous day. Marines from the barracks were deployed in the rifle range butts. Machine-gun and rifle fire was directed against the Japanese planes from Orote and Agana, but no hits were observed.

That evening, the Japanese invasion fleet departed the island of Rota for Guam. Because General Horii assumed there could be almost 2,000 armed defenders, possibly with heavy weapons, his plan divided the landing force into three com­ponents. The Hayashi Naval 5th Special Unit with an Army reinforced battalion called the Tsukomoto Force would land at Tumon Bay about 4 miles northeast of Agana, then move quickly down the coast road to capture Agana. The Hayashi Force would then move to secure the installa­tions at Apra Harbor. The main force with two thirds of the reinforced 144th Reg­iment, called the Kusunose Force, would land at a beach on the southwest coast near Merizo and advance north to over­come any resistance at Orote and meet up with the northern force. A smaller detachment from the main force would land in the east at Talofofo Bay and move inland to protect the heights above Apra.

About 1 a.m. on Dec. 10, on the orders of McMillin, the small force of defenders began setting up their defenses in the Plaza. Sgt Shane and the 11 Marines of the Insular Patrol prepared defensive positions with sand­bags, ditches and over­­turned benches in front of the Government House on the southwest side of the Plaza. Lane led the three platoons of Insular Guards, about 80 men with a few Penguin Sailors, who were deployed with little cover around the Plaza. A machine gun was assigned to each platoon. One, under Guardsman Pete Cruz, was positioned without cover at the critical northeastern corner near the cathedral to cover the narrow street to the north. He was as­sisted by Guardsman Vincente Chargualaf to whom Cruz handed his pistol to pro­vide cover when he changed ammunition belts. They were unexpectedly joined by an 8-year-old boy, Ramon Camacho, who emerged from the cathedral intending to take photos. Cruz tried to warn the boy away but he stayed and assisted Cruz in changing the ammo belt while Chargualaf covered them with a pistol. Across the Plaza at the north­western corner in front of Dorn Hall, Guardsman San Nicholas with two men set up their gun to cover the Agana jail and elementary school on the north side. The third machine gun under Guardsman Joe Perez and crew was set up to cover the southeastern corner and area south of the cathedral. The Guardsman and Sailors with rifles were deployed around the Plaza using the cover of hedges where possible.

The Japanese landing plans went slight­ly astray but did not affect the ultimate outcome. The transports began readying their landing barges for de­barkation at 1 a.m. on Dec. 10. In the south, the main Kusunose Force landed at Merizo but split into two parts because there were no direct roads. This sig­nif­icantly delayed their move toward Sumay and the Orote Peninsula. The northern Tsukamoto Force found its way through the coral reefs and landed at Tumon Bay at 2:25 a.m. as planned. These troops almost im­mediately encountered and fired up a jitney carrying a Chamorro family, killing most of them. They also captured two Sailors from Penguin.

The Hayashi Special Naval Landing Force, which debarked from a different transport, could not find the reef opening, so it moved southward around the steep cliffs at Oca Point where they found a channel into Agana Bay. Firing flares to guide the landing craft, they landed about 3:30 a.m. on Dungcas Beach less than 2 miles from the Plaza in Agana. As the boats approached shore, the splashing was overheard by Insular Guardsman Juan Perez on beach patrol. He fired at the first boat then ran to Agana to warn Governor McMillin. The landing force encountered six Sailors from the USS Penguin. After a short exchange of fire, the Americans surrendered and were then wired together and killed by bayonets. Farther north at Tumon Bay, the Army Tsukamoto Force was delayed by waiting for the Hayashi Force, unaware they had landed 2 miles farther down. This delay prevented them from reinforcing the Hayashi force.

Around 4 a.m., McMillin received a re­port of flares at Dungcas Beach. As­sum­ing a Japanese landing was underway, he issued orders to all stations to carry out their assigned missions. A Penguin Sailor patrolling the San Antonio District between the Plaza and the beach reported a large landing force to Lane at the Plaza. Japanese troops entering that district began sweeping the streets with gunfire.

That shooting was heard at the Plaza, and some fires were seen. The Marines, Sailors and Insular Guard were in their defense positions around the Plaza, which was ringed with buildings, including a Catholic church, Guard barracks, public works, police station and Government House. This limited the Japanese approach to mainly a narrow street from the north and streets from the northwest and south. There was little protection, mainly hedges in some spots. Their three machine guns were set up to cover two intersections by the church, the road from Agana Heights and an intersection by the police station. There were fewer than 100 defenders. Marine defenders in the Plaza included Sgt Shane and PFCs Harris Chuck, Robert Hinkle, Frank Nichols, William Bomar, Hal Burt and John Kaufman from the Sumay barracks. Kaufman had joined earlier from the hospital and apparently fought alongside the Guards and Penguin sailors. Insular Patrol PFC’s Richard Ballinger and Garth Dunn guarded the rear entrance to the Government House.

As the defenders nervously awaited the Japanese who were infiltrating the streets toward the Plaza, Shane ordered PFC Chuck to take a few Marines to the garage and armory and destroy every­thing. Accompanied by PFCs Bomar and Burt, he commandeered a van and drove to the garage where the three disabled the vehicles with hammers and then broke the lock to the armory and set it afire with gasoline.

Hayashi’s men moved rapidly ap­proach­ing the Plaza on a narrow street from the north alongside the hospital and a cathedral and also from the northwest. Some of his force were moving to circle around the Plaza to approach from the northwest and cut off retreat to the south. About 5:15 a.m., the Japanese crammed in the narrow street by the cathedral and marched almost shoulder to shoulder with their bayoneted rifles facing forward into the plaza. Guardsman Juan Perez opened fire with his Browning Automatic Rifle on a soldier crossing the Plaza, causing others to run for cover. Guardsman Pedro Cruz, manning the machine gun at the northeastern corner near the cathedral, saw Japanese begin sneaking into the plaza from the north and opened fire. As the Japanese entered the Plaza in force, the defenders opened fire on the advanc­ing Japanese front ranks, killing and wounding many. The Marines defending Government House joined the firing. The intense fusillade caused the Japanese to fall back, reform and then advance again. The defenders continued heavy fire, caus­ing the attackers to withdraw a second time. Reforming again, the Japanese ad­vanced from the north and northwest, swarming into the Plaza with fastened bayonets and leveling heavy fire at the defenders. They also rolled in a pack howitzer.

The firing remained intense as the defenders fell back. At the northeast corner of the Plaza covering the cathedral approach, Pedro Cruz continued firing his Lewis gun, with the boy helping change belts, until Japanese return fire killed both Roman Camacho and Vicente Chargualaf. Cruz withdrew and was soon captured. At the northwestern corner, the Lewis gun operated by Guardsman San Nicholas and his two-man crew fired on the Japanese. After some exchange of fire, they dropped the gun and fled under Dorn Hall to escape but were met by a large group of Japanese soldiers between Dorn Hall and the Guard barracks where Nicholas escaped up a cliff behind the Government House but his loader, Angel Flores, was shot and killed.

Todd issued orders to the surviving de­fenders to withdraw to the protection of the thick-walled Insular Guard barracks on the western side. The Insular Patrol Ma­­rines and some defenders ran to that shelter including Radioman Second Class Robert Epperson, who fired his pistol at the attackers until his ammunition was ex­pended. Penguin sailor Electricians Mate First Class Ralph Gwinnup was shot in the ankles and dragged by his com­­rades to the barracks. Other Japanese be­gan to flank from the south side of the Plaza.

With the Japanese overrunning the Plaza and the surviving defenders in re­treat, Governor McMillin, who had by then received telephone reports of other Japanese landings, realized that resistance was futile. Deciding to surrender, he tele­phoned MacNulty to not resist. About 5:45 a.m., to prevent an imminent slaugh­t­er, Giles crawled out in front of Govern­ment House and ran to a nearby Chevrolet and sounded three horn blasts. He be­lieved they would understand and cease firing, which they did as did the Japanese. However, there was immediately some brief gunfire behind Government House. There is some dispute as to the reason but most likely was because Chief Petty Officer Malvern Smoot and a civilian, John Klugel, came from behind Gov­ernment House in effort to escape.

Smoot fired his pistol and hit several Japanese before he and Klugel were killed in a hail of gunfire. Two sailors from Gov­­ernment House, Joseph Blaha and Lyle Eads, exited and tried to join the defend­ers but were wounded and initially pre­sumed dead by the Japanese. To be sure, they bayoneted Blaha and started to bayonet Eads, but he rose and raised his hands. Both were taken to the hospital and survived. PFCs Bomar and Burt, who had ridden with PFC Chuck to sabotage the armory and motor pool, jumped out of his van on the return trip to try to es­cape. They were soon captured by a Japa­nese patrol and executed, by some ac­counts by beheading. In words of McMillin in his later formal report, “The Insular Force Guard stood their ground, and opened up a fire with machine guns and rifles hot enough to halt the invading force for a short time. The situation was simply hopeless, resistance had been carried to the limit.”

As a tense quiet prevailed over the Plaza, a Japanese near the cathe­dral, using a bullhorn, called out in broken English, “You are surrounded. You must surrender. Send your Captain!” At the direction of the governor, Giles and Lane stepped out and crossed the Plaza unharmed to parlay. They were marched through the San Antonio district to make contact with the Commander of the Naval landing force, Hayashi, and returned about a half hour later with the Japanese commander. The remaining de­fenders in the Plaza put down their weapons and began to rise and raise their arms, the pre-dawn dark­ness masking their fears of harm and ex­ecution. Before the Japanese com­mand­er arrived, a squad of Japanese soldiers entered the gov­ernor’s quarters and took McMillin cap­tive. He was made to re­move his jacket and trousers then marched to the Plaza where the Japanese were assembling their prisoners in three ranks, covered by machine guns. Prisoners were prodded by bayonets and savagely beaten into line. Those who had taken refuge in the barracks were ordered by a Japanese officer to come out and surrender. The prisoners were ordered to remove their clothing. PFC John Kaufman was not removing his underwear fast enough; the enemy slashed open his abdomen and he fell over and died.

Hayashi, McMillin and Commander Giles entered the Government House escorted by a Japanese guard with rifles and fixed bayonets. Because none of the Japanese with Hayashi spoke English, a local Japanese civilian, Mr. Shinahara, was brought to act as the interpreter. McMillin indicated that he was prepared to sign a declaration of surrender if the Japanese agreed to respect the civil rights of the people of Guam and that the sur­rendered military would be accorded the rights under international law. Hayashi agreed and surrender terms were drafted and signed by McMillin about 7 a.m. on Dec. 10. The Japanese laid out an Ameri­can flag in the Plaza and shined flashlights on it to signal the surrender to their planes overhead.

By now, dawn was breaking and the surrendered defenders in the Plaza could see bodies of Japanese and some defend­ers strewn around the Plaza. The Marines had lost three killed, all after being captured or surrendered. Fortunately, none of Shane’s Marines defending Gov­ernment House were killed in the actual fighting. The Navy had lost two and the Insular Guard had lost three plus the civilian volunteer, Roman Camacho. Despite the surrender agree­ment, the fate of the prisoners remained uncertain. More than once, they were stood up as if facing a machine-gun firing squad then told to sit down. Chief Petty Officer Robert O’Brien from Penguin, who could speak Japanese, overheard Hayashi say that he wanted to execute the prisoners because they had killed more than 200 of his men but was over­ruled by his Fleet commander. A formal count of Japanese losses was not reported but the island’s mortician, Pharmacists Mate First Class John Ploke recorded in his diary that he later counted more than 200 dead Japa­nese. Other sources reported that only one Japanese sailor was killed and six wounded which seems unlikely given the fusillade that met the Japanese ad­vance into the Plaza. At the same time, more than 200 Japanese dead appears high as it would have been half the 400 men from the Landing Force and there were still swarms of Japanese in and around the Plaza after the surrender.

After a time, the prisoners’ clothes were returned. The American officers were taken and held in the Navy hospital. The other Plaza prisoners, along with those in Agana who had surrendered were rounded up and sent to the cathedral. The wounded were taken to the hospital for treatment.

At the Sumay barracks that morning, the Marines were advised by the execu­tive officer, Major Donald Spicer, to take cover in the surrounding jungle and not congregate at the rifle range butts west of the barracks. This is according to a Pan Am manager, James Thomas, who was in direct contact with MacNulty. MacNulty realized that surrender was imminent and that with daylight, Japanese aircraft would be swarming overhead with the Orote Peninsula a prime target. Congregating the Marines would attract the attention of strafing aircraft and result in unnecessary loss of life. Many Marines scattered into the nearby jungle for cover while some remained at the barracks. A roadblock ordered by MacNulty was never fully implemented.

Having secured the Plaza and ended resistance, Hayashi formed a detachment of his men and march directly over a paved road to secure the Piti Navy Yard. He then began marching to Sumay. Short­ly after leaving Piti, his force encountered a few Marines of the Insular Patrol who were unaware of the surrender and opened fire. The Japanese quickly surrounded and dis­armed the Marines without any injuries to either side. Hayashi’s detach­ment then marched quickly to the neck of the Orote Peninsula where they were supposed to join and support an attack by General Horii’s main force.

At the barracks, MacNulty had been informed by McMillin of the surrender agreement directed not to resist. The Marines were called back from the sur­rounding area and assembled. A Marine bugler sounded retreat and the American flag was lowered amidst many tears. Hayashi proceeded to the barracks where he accepted the surrender of the Marines from MacNulty. The Marines were initially stripped naked and made to sit on the adjoining golf course and then later taken to the cathedral where Japanese soldiers from Tumon Bay had taken over guard duty. The Marines around the island were alerted and came in or were captured by Japanese patrols unharmed. Over the next few days, the Sailors and Marines who tried to hide in the jungles and mountains turned themselves in or were captured by roaming patrols. Six Sailors from the Agana radio station remained at large hoping for rescue by a Navy task force and hidden for a time by loyal Chamorros.

The battle for Guam, though brief, was over. The Marines had four killed and 12 wounded from the bombing and Plaza battle. The Navy had lost nine and 25 wounded while the Guam Insular Force lost four including the civilian volunteer and five wounded. On Jan. 10, 1942, the prisoners were loaded aboard ships bound to Japan where they were imprisoned. Back on Guam, the Japanese were deter­mined to find the missing Americans issuing warnings that if they did not turn themselves in, they would be executed when captured. Five were eventually caught and executed. One Sailor, Radio­man First Class George Tweed, was hidden and moved around by loyal Chamorros, evading constant Japanese patrols. In June 1944, he was rescued by the destroyer USS McCall (DD-400) just prior to the Marine landings on Guam. The Hayashi detach­ment stayed on Guam and was wiped out by Marines during its recapture.

Today, the people of Guam are U.S. citizens who require and deserve Ameri­can protection. World War II showed that the Chamorro people are loyal, brave and would courageously support defense of their island. There also may be lessons we derive from the 1941 fall of Guam. Guam is an important strategic U.S. pos­session in the western Pacific with a large Air Force base and major naval base. Air superiority is crucial as Guam still lacks any substantial ground force defense capability and would require rapid reinforcement if threatened or attacked. Guam is key to our western Pacific defense strategy and a likely defense mission for Marine Forces Pacific to ensure 1941 is not repeated.

Author’s bio: Maj Stewart is a 1973 graduate of the Naval Academy. He also has a master’s in national security studies from Georgetown University. He served in the Marine Corps as a signals intelli­gence, electronic warfare and communi­ca­tions officer. After retiring from the Ma­rine Corps, he pursued a 30-year career in cybersecurity as a Director, Chief Technical Officer, Corporate Chief Information Security Officer and Subject Matter Expert Consultant to Federal agencies and large corporations. He has written several articles for military journals and is a past recipient of Marine Corps Gazette’s Major General Harold W. Chase Essay Award. He is the author of the award-winning book, “Sunrise at Abadan: The 1941 British and Soviet Invasion of Iran.”

Editor’s note: We are publishing Col Patty Klop’s story to reinforce the importance of speaking openly about PTSD and other mental health issues and to encourage veterans to ask for help. For information about resources available to veterans, visit: https://www.mca-marines.org/blog/resource/resources-for-veteran-marines/

My name is Patty Klop. I have post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), and I am not ashamed. I am a wife, mother, sister, and a colonel in the U.S. Marine Corps Reserve. Following seven weeks of PTSD treatment in March of 2022, I received the most precious gift of my life—the empowerment to live life with joy and contentment.

As much as I prefer the privacy of my personal and professional life, especially since I am still serving in the Marine Corps Reserve, I am taking a tremendous risk by sharing my PTSD story. However, the worst thing I can do is to keep this gift to myself. Assuming the risk of being transparent and vulnerable as a senior Marine Corps officer, I feel it is my obligation to my sisters and brothers-in-arms to share this incredible gift as encouragement and possible inspiration.

In April 2006, I returned from a seven-month deployment to Iraq (Ramadi and Fallujah) in support of Operation Iraqi Freedom. I had a hard time adjusting to post-deployment life. Reflecting back during this difficult period, I now realize I was experiencing PTSD symptoms. The uncontrollable rage and angry outbursts were shocking and damaging to my family. I had never acted like that before.

Through Military One Source, I was referred to a counselor who assessed my symptoms of agitation, sleep disturbance, low energy, depressed mood, and ir­ri­ta­bility. At this point in my life, I was un­married and had no children.
From May to October 2009, I deployed as the officer in charge of Personnel Re­trieval and Processing (PRP) De­tach­ment, also known as mortuary af­fairs, to Camp Bastion, Helmand Province, Afghanistan, in support of Operation Endur­ing Free­dom. As the first Marine Corps mortuary affairs unit to deploy to Afghanistan, we were assigned the daunt­ing task of establishing the first Marine Corps Unit Collection Point. As a PRP team, we provided care in handling and preparing human remains for evacuation and sub­sequent repatriation to next of kin. This was an emotionally fatiguing job with repeated traumatizing experiences.

When I returned home from Af­ghan­istan, I anticipated having the best year of my life with my recent promotion to lieutenant colonel, getting married, and surviving a combat deployment. I thought my exposure to a war-torn and under-developed country and the conditions of how the Afghan people lived would remind me of how good I have it as an American and to live life to the fullest. I thought I would see life through a perpetual optimistic lens, enjoying life for all its worth and embracing each precious moment.

On the contrary, I had one of the worst years of my life, as my emotions, es­pecial­ly anger, were out of control. The first six months of marriage was tur­bulent. I was irritable, easily agitated at the slightest annoyance, and extremely jumpy. My husband and I attended mar­riage counseling funded by Military One Source. I did not think my marriage was going to make it.

Col Patty Klop with her two sons. Courtesy of Col Patty Klop, USMCR.At this time, my PTSD symptoms were extremely severe with anxiety, agitation, anger, depressed mood, low energy/chronic fatigue, irritability, impatience, hypervigilance (extreme sensitivity to my environment’s noises, temperature, and activities), trouble sleeping coupled with haunting nightmares, loss of interest in activities that I used to enjoy, and feeling like my skin was crawling. I was not aware I had PTSD until our marriage counselor shared her insight about my symptoms.

Our counselor referred me to a psy­chiatrist who prescribed me anti-anxiety medication. I was reluctant to take pre­scriptions as I felt I reached an all-time low by taking medication for my mental health. I was a senior Marine Corps Offi­cer. I should have control over my emotions and behaviors.

During the summer of 2010, I re­mem­bered vividly the moment I knew my prescription medication had taken effect. I was painting the spare bedroom, and I honestly felt my irritability and tension lifting and departing from my body. I finally felt relief and a calmness I had not experienced since I returned from Afghanistan. I instantly knew my experience of relief and calmness was the therapeutic effects of my prescription medication. I now knew that prescription medication was appropriate in my time of need.

In the military, and especially in the Marine Corps, I believe there is a stigma in admitting mental health problems and that pursuing treatment may be perceived as being weak. There is an expectation in the military to handle problems on one’s own.

I was fully aware of this stigma and that pursuing mental health treatment was counter-culture to the Marine Corps, especially as a senior officer. I was will­ing to take this risk because I needed help. I was not the same person when I returned from Afghanistan. My PTSD symptoms were progressively spin­ning out of control and negatively impacting my marriage.

According to the Stress Continuum Model on the Marine Forces Reserve website, I felt like I was living in the “yellow zone” of reacting while slipping forward and backward between the yellow zone and the orange zone. Just give me a lame excuse to advance into the orange zone and I pounce! I like to blame my hot-tempered Irish, fighting spirit as an excuse for my behavior. To be honest, I would like nothing more than to be confrontational, close the gap between me and my offender, and give them a piece of my mind after only the slightest provocation.

I also felt I was unworthy to receive PTSD treatment because I did not think I was qualified in meeting the criteria. I had a false impression that I needed to be an extremely burned-out combat veteran with severe and debilitating PTSD about to hit skid row to be admitted to inpatient PTSD treatment.

On the contrary, to successfully receive intense PTSD therapy, the veteran must be functional to a degree that enables him or her to be fully present, engaged and to participate in the process of individual counseling and group sessions as well as completing writing assignments.

When I finally checked in to the inpatient facility, I was still shell shocked from life and eager to get the help I desperately needed. When I arrived, all of my doubts that I was not worthy of PTSD treatment, that I did not meet the criteria of PTSD treatment, and that I should not take a seat reserved for another combat veteran, vanished instantly.

After a couple of days, I knew with every fiber of my being that I was in the right place. The PTSD treatment deeply resonated with me because it was exactly the relief that I was looking for. I was able to unpack the burdens of my PTSD, disarm them and hit the reset button on my life. It felt like God sent his best guardian angels to my flanks to pull me out of my pit of PTSD hell. My disposition slowly improved from dark ominous stormy clouds to clear blue skies.

Initially, I struggled with baring my soul about my traumatic combat exper­iences to a civilian who never served in the military a day in her life. As combat veterans, I sense we have a common men­tality that only another combat veteran will understand us, which is true to an extent. Outside of therapy and a few close military comrades, I would certainly never share my combat experiences with anyone.

My therapist did not serve in the mil­itary. However, she was an expert in trauma and was unequivocally the best therapist I encountered after 16 years and more than 10 therapists. She may not have served in the military or in a combat zone but certainly understood my trauma and helped me navigate to a healthier state of mind.

If I was stuck in a mentality that my therapist’s credibility and qualifications were as a combat veteran rather than a specialist in trauma, I would regret in missing out on her expertise. My narrow mindset would have truly prevented me from fully embracing the healing power of my PTSD treatment.

What I Experienced in PTSD Treatment
PTSD treatment was like a sanctuary for warriors to begin the healing process from the invisible wounds of combat trauma, which is what I desperately longed for the last 16 years of my life. The Cognitive Processing Therapy (CPT) is a self-discovery process of identifying thought patterns, emotions and behaviors that were weighing me down from living my best life. I was immersed in a safe and nurturing environment where I was fully accepted without condemnation or shame of myself, my PTSD diagnosis or my past.

What I Did Not Experience in PTSD Treatment
I did not experience a lecture or an un­ending infomercial of how screwed up I was. I honestly felt like damaged goods but not once did I receive unsolicited advice about how I was doing life wrong, or how bad and destructive my behavior was, or how out of control I was in being a wife and a mother. Not once did I receive condemnation, shame or disapproval for my PTSD diagnosis.

Instead, I was guided in a self-discovery process of exploring my thought patterns, which were challenged and rewritten towards a healthier baseline. Thoughts lead to feelings, feelings lead to actions, and actions lead to results. Everything begins with thoughts, which are produced by the mind. The mind is a battlefield!

What I learned in PTSD Treatment
I approached my health holistically: mental, social, physical, and spiritual health. The mind, body and spirit are con­nected. The best metaphor to describe wellness is imagining the four legs of a table. Each leg represents a major component of health, to include physi­cal, mental, social, and spiritual.

If one leg of the table is too long, then I am spending excessive time in that component of health, such as physical exercise. If one leg of the table is too short, then I am neglecting that component of health, such as my spiritual fitness. The legs of my table must be equal in length in order for me to reap the benefits of optimal health. If the legs of my table are not equal in length, then my foundation is wobbly.

If I stand on my wobbly table, there is a propensity for accidents and injuries that could have been prevented. My table is my foundation for life, especially in the daily grind; therefore, my table must be leveled to create a strong base and prevent the perpetual accidents and injuries that life throws at me.

Due to feeling chronically tired all the time and trying to lose a few pounds, I also pursued whole food, plant-based nutrition, as the health benefits are pro­found in achieving optimal health, pre­venting diseases and managing weight.

Health is one of the most important pre­dictors of happiness. When it comes to health, my motto is “pay now or pay later.” In other words, there’s no success­ful procrastination option in taking care of your health. If you take care of your health today, you are preventing avoidable chronic health diseases. If you take care of your health tomorrow, you are reacting to avoidable chronic health diseases. Investing in my physical health was one of the best decisions I ever made, and I will never regret it.

Author’s note: This article is dedicated to my loving family and to the amazing staff at the VA Fort Thomas Division Trauma Recovery Center, Fort Thomas, Ky. I owe a debt of gratitude to this facility for giving me the most precious and invaluable gift that I have ever received in my life, which was the empowerment to live life with joy and contentment. My eternal gratitude!

Editor’s note: The appearance of U.S. Department of Defense visual information does not imply or constitute DOD endorsement. The views presented are strictly of the author and do not represent official policy positions nor imply endorsements by the U.S. Department of Defense or any of its military services.

“My predecessor told me … ‘we don’t have lightsabers and hover tanks in the basement here, but it’s right down the road.’ ”
—Colonel Frederick Lance Lewis Jr., USMC, Assistant Vice Chief of Naval Research (AVCNR)

The United States military is the most technologically sophisticated fighting force the world has ever seen. Its dominance comes not from its immense size, but from its ability to rapidly project force on a global scale, powered by an ever-improving arsenal of hardware and software the likes of which only a science-fiction writer could predict. The Marine Corps has always organized itself to be as flexible as pos­sible, and with Force Design 2030 re­focus­ing the Corps around that principle, it will need to modernize more rapidly than ever before. Force Design 2030 asserts that it is imperative to “transform the Marine Corps into a more agile, ef­ficient, and technologically advanced force to meet the challenges of the future.” Proudly leading that charge are the devoted men and women of the Office of Naval Research (ONR).

The Office of Naval Research traces its roots back to the late 19th and early 20th centuries, a time of rapid change. For the denizens of Europe and North America, industrialization changed every facet of life; how we ate, how we worked, how we traveled, and especially, how we fought. The First World War proved to the world’s generals and admirals that a military even a few years out of date would be hopelessly outmatched on the modern battlefield, a fact of which American leaders were especially aware. Exactly 100 years ago this month, on July 2, 1923, the Naval Research Laboratory (NRL) was established to lead technological research and development programs throughout the Department of the Navy, including the Marine Corps. Throughout the interwar period and during World War II, NRL completed early pioneering work on many of the technologies we take for granted today: remotely piloted aircraft, sonar, and radar, just to name a few.

Coming out of World War II, American geopolitical strategists rec­ognized that the U.S. had the opportunity to become the dominant military power in the world but could only do so by main­taining a technological edge over foreign adversaries. To that end, on Aug. 1, 1946, President Truman signed Public Law 588, establishing the Office of Naval Research to “plan, foster and encourage scientific research in recognition of its paramount importance as related to the maintenance of future naval power, and the preserva­tion of national security.” Since then, ONR has overseen all U.S. naval science and technology programs, coordinating NRL’s work with that of other laboratories across the country and around the world.

For new technologies to meet war­fight­ers’ needs, the people developing those technologies need perspective on how their work actually makes a difference to the end user. To that end, ONR draws its manpower from the operational mil­itary. Its senior leadership consists of actual warfighters who have already served on air, land, and sea; several have combat experience. Even many of the civilian employees are veterans now in their second careers. Because the Marine Corps is an integral part of the Depart­ment of the Navy, the positions of vice chief of naval research (VCNR) and as­sistant vice chief of naval research (AVCNR) are always staffed by Marines so they can advocate for the Corps’ future needs.

Pushing the Marine Corps into the future is a huge responsibility. As the VCNR, Brigadier General Kyle B. Ellison also serves as the Commanding General of the Marine Corps Warfighting Lab (MCWL), the Futures Directorate, and the Wargaming Center. “He’s a very, very busy individual,” confirms Colonel Frederick Lance Lewis Jr., the AVCNR. “What he has put out is a campaign plan for, ‘How are we going to get from where we are now to Force Design 2030?’ My job as the assistant vice chief of naval research is to ensure that Marine Corps’ equities are being met in science and technology development.” Col Lewis came to ONR last summer after three years as the commanding officer of Ma­rine Corps Air Station Iwakuni.

As a pilot with more than 3,900 total flying hours, including more than 400 in combat, Lewis is intimately familiar with the importance of the work ONR does. Throughout his 27-year career, he has observed and directly benefited from a slew of new technologies developed at least in part by the organization he now helps lead.

“It’s interesting because you don’t think about it in real time. I’m an F-18 pilot by trade. When I started flying the F-18 in ’99, there was no GPS in the aircraft! There were no GPS weapons. Laser-guided weapons were … something that was talked about in hushed tones. Targeting pods were in their infancy,” Lewis said. “And now go to today … what I’ve seen is total immersion in GPS. GPS weapons and laser-guided weapons, that’s the norm. If you’re dropping a ‘dumb’ bomb, that’s the rare, exciting exception.”

Beyond precision-guided munitions, Lewis has seen new technologies pervade every aspect of warfighting. “Helmet-mounted queueing system, Link 16, improvements in radar, targeting pods—holy cow, we could talk forever about ad­vances in targeting pods—downlink video, SATCOM, all kinds of things that have been incorporated now into aircraft,” Lewis said. “On the ground side, never did I think when I was doing my first FAC [forward air controller] tour, when I was on my ground tour in Iraq, ’04-’05, that you would be able to livestream video down to a battalion COP [common operational picture], and now it’s normal,” he added.

“Some of the up-armor capability, MRAP [Mine Resistance Ambush Pro­tected vehicles], QuikClot, all of these things, you just think about … holy smokes, none of that stuff was thought of, invented, and it all started in a place like this,” Lewis said. “For me, I’ve seen that arc of technology and just how valuable technology is, and what does it take to deliver it to the fleet, having been on the user end of it.”

Each of ONR’s five departments, called Codes, directly manages programs within a specific area; the Warfighter Perform­ance department, officially designated Code 34, does a great deal of work that directly benefits Marines on the ground. From its headquarters in downtown Arlington, Va., ONR coordinates each department’s work at various research centers throughout the U.S. and abroad, such as NRL, MCWL, and the many Naval Surface Warfare Centers (NSWCs). Secure networks allow scientists and engineers there to collaborate in real time with their counterparts in other services of the U.S. military, allied militaries, re­search universities, and the private sector. Reporting to Col Lewis are five Marine officers, one in each Code, who leverage their scientific education and Marine Corps experience to direct the program officers’ research.

To equip Sailors and Marines for the battlefield of the future, ONR must first be able to predict that future. As the ex­peditionary portfolio director, veteran Marine Billy J. Short Jr. tries to do just that. In the absence of a crystal ball, he and his associates use a three-part time­scale to analyze the future based on the levels of maturity of various new tech­nologies. “The close, deep, and deeper fight is what we call it,” he says. “I need to make sure that we have a spectrum of technologies that the Marine Corps can adopt over that timeline.” In this context, “close” refers to programs which should conclude within the next three to five years, yielding results that will likely benefit many of the Marines reading this article today.

One example of a technology nearing maturity is a device known as the Port­able Fluid Analyzer Plus (PFA+), which prom­ises to significantly streamline the workflow for any Marine whose MOS in­volves vehicle maintenance. An impor­tant but underappreciated part of keeping vehicles running is checking lubricants, fuels, and hydraulic fluid for contaminants or debris that could indicate or even di­rect­ly cause a vehicle to break down at the worst possible moment.

Currently, fluid testing requires the Marine to package a sample and ship it to an offsite laboratory that may be hun­dreds of miles away, then wait days for the lab to send back a detailed analysis. As its name suggests, PFA+ effectively packages all the capability of a fully equipped scientific laboratory into a man-portable Pelican case and completely auto­mates the testing process. With min­imal training, anyone can carry the de­vice to wherever it is needed and quickly test a fluid sample to determine its exact composition and determine what impuri­ties it has. Once it arrives in the fleet with­in the next few years, PFA+ will reduce the processing time from several days to less than an hour, allowing main­tenance technicians to keep more vehicles running with less work.

During field trials at Camp Lejeune, a PFA+ prototype proved its worth when a vehicle unexpectedly broke down in the field. Instead of canceling the trial and calling for motor transportation Ma­rines to recover the vehicle, the quick-thinking Marines in the field used the PFA+ unit to test its fuel. Determining that moisture in the fuel system had caused the breakdown, the Marines were able to quickly restore it to working order and continue the scheduled testing, sav­ing untold manhours of work.

Several of ONR’s current projects in­volve the use of virtual reality (VR) and augmented reality (AR) to create more opportunities for training. Augmented reality systems combine computer-gen­erated imagery with the wearer’s view of the real world, like an advanced heads-up display. Dr. Peter Squire, Ph.D., the program officer for human performance, training, and education works with VR and AR to improve how warfighters use those technologies. He has degrees in computer science and psychology, a rare combination which makes him uniquely suited to not just develop technology, but understand how people use it. “I don’t do things directly in developing weapons; what I try to do is better understand how we will employ those,” he said.

“I try to help create training capabilities that will support that ‘anytime, anywhere’ training as part of their home station duties,” Squire continued. One of those new training systems is the JTAC Virtual Trainer (JVT), developed in collaboration with the private sector. As part of their MOS, joint terminal attack controllers (JTACs) and FACs require complicated training that can be difficult for a unit to arrange. The time and space requirements to set up a practice range, not to mention the fuel and munitions costs the Marine Corps incurs to dispatch aircraft to sim­ulate close air support, are immense.

“For example, it is costly to do close air support training because you have to pay for pilots, the gasoline, the munitions, so if you can do that and still have the same level of proficiency using a simulated system to complement some live-fire activi­ties, I think there’s a huge ability of going after that type of approach,” Squire said.

ONR’s JVT leverages virtual reality technology to turn any space into a vir­tual training environment, complete with virtual aircraft, so that Marines can practice crucial combat skills more often than is currently possible. JVT’s advan­tages in cost and convenience promise to make it a valuable addition to the Ma­rine Corps’ toolbox.

“Some of what we do is early basic research that can take 10-30 years to fully develop,” said Short. Much of the funda­mental tech­nologies ONR is presently investigating at universities will not be mature and ready for deployment until many of to­day’s Marines have already left the military. It will be a very different Marine Corps and a new generation of Marines who field this new hardware. This foundational research can lead to breakthroughs that provide us a dispro­portionate advantage over other evolu­tion­ary developments.

Short, who earned graduate degrees in chemistry and physics, retired from the Marine Corps having served as a combat engineer officer. His combination of a strong science background and exper­ience as a Marine gives him a unique perspective into both the new technologies reaching maturity and how warfighters can use those technologies in their work. In discussing the way new technologies are promulgated throughout the fleet, he divides them into two categories based on what drives them: pull and push.

“Tech pull,” as Short calls it, is what happens when a program works to de­velop some capability requested by the fleet. These programs arise directly from the needs of warfighters, as identi­fied from the results of exercises and war­games. “We see that when we take what we currently have and mix it up with the adversary’s capabilities, we’ve got a big gap here. That gap can then get tran­slated into a technology need that then becomes a ‘pull.’ ”

“Tech push,” on the other hand, happens when ONR’s program managers identify a new or emerging technology which could provide a benefit Sailors and Marines, then develop that technology into a usable form. ONR has an entire portfolio called the Innovative Naval Prototype Portfolio consisting of such programs. “For that portfolio, we don’t need a requirement, we don’t need resources, all we have are scientists and informed discussions with our warfighters to say, ‘hey, we think this technology is … a moonshot and can have game-changing aspects, and regardless of what feedback you’re giving us right now, we’re saying that from a technical level, if this was fully and successfully developed, this is probably going to change the way you fight.’ ” In other words, with tech pushes, the scientists and engineers try to provide new hardware before the men and women in the fleet even know they need it.

Everyone at the Office of Naval Re­search is deeply invested in the work they do and how it affects the men and women in the fleet. When any individual Sailor or Marine identifies a problem that could be solved with new technology, ONR wants to know as soon as possible so their scientists and engineers can develop that technology. To that end, the ONR TechSolutions program allows Navy and Marine Corps servicemembers to submit their ideas for new technologies that could solve existing problems and enhance warfighter capabilities. ONR communicates with the applicant to fully understand the problem, and if the solution can be developed in a timely and cost-effective manner, devotes resources to the project.

“Our job here is to maintain our tech­nological edge over any adversary out there, and … if anybody’s foolish enough to take a swing at the Navy and the Ma­rine Corps, that that’s an unfair fight in our advantage,” said Lewis. “That idea is permeated from the top, from General Ellison, down to every single program officer that I’ve ever come across.”

The researchers’ high level of motiva­tion is palpable. “There are some folks who are really, really hungry to make sure that it is an unfair fight out there, and it is truly, truly exceptional to be in their presence and to feel their energy,” said Lewis. “I mean, you can just feel it coming off of them, you know? You get bogged down with budget and all that stuff, and then you go talk to the folks and they just could not be more excited about this new thing they came up with that’s going to make it unfair for our adversaries,” he added.

Any team succeeds or fails based on the contributions of each of its members, and ONR exemplifies this principle perfectly. From the command leadership to the program officers, the whole organi­zation is pervaded by a strong culture of enthusiasm for the work they do, an understanding of its value, and a sense of responsibility toward the Sailors and Marines they support.

Author’s bio: Sam Lichtman is a freelance writer who specializes in small arms technology and military history. He has a weekly segment on Gun Owners Radio. He is a licensed pilot who lives in Virginia.

Marines Walk from East Coast to West Coast To Raise Awareness, Money for MIA Recovery

Early in 2020, Sergeant Major Justin LeHew, USMC (Ret) had an idea. It was a big idea. For anyone who knows LeHew, that’s no surprise. He wanted to take a rather unique road trip with his close friend and fellow Marine, SgtMaj Coleman “Rocky” Kinzer, USMC (Ret). The plan was to take a trip across America. They would be cycling with some hiking mixed in. And along the way, they would visit tourist destinations to check some of the boxes that had been missed during their busy years on active duty. Slowly an idea began to take shape. Not only would they see America, but they planned to use the trip to raise awareness of Missing in Action (MIA) servicemembers and raise funds for History Flight, the nonprofit MIA recovery organization for which LeHew is the chief operations officer and Kinzer is the deputy operations officer.

Kinzer and LeHew started training for the journey, but the COVID-19 pandemic forced them to put their plans on hold—for two years. LeHew couldn’t let go of the idea, though, and in late spring 2022, he decided that it was now or never.

On June 6, 2022, LeHew and Kinzer finally took their first steps on a journey that took them from the Atlantic Ocean to the Pacific Ocean. In an adventure that they dubbed, “The Long Road,” the two Marines walked from Boston, Mass., to Newport, Ore., along U.S. Route 20. It took more than six months for them to cover the 3,365 miles on foot, and they arrived in Oregwon on Dec. 17, 2022, where a crowd had gathered to cheer for LeHew, Kinzer and Ray Shinohara, a fellow Marine who joined his friends in Illinois.

Some of the specifics of the original plan changed—including the route and what “bucket list” items they would check off along the way—but perhaps the biggest change was the mode of trans­portation. They didn’t use bicycles; instead, they walked the entire coast to coast route.

U.S. Route 20 is the longest highway in the United States and goes through small towns and vast areas of farmland into the heart of America. Access to those small towns and farms is exactly why LeHew chose this route because one thing that didn’t change from his original vision is the two overarching themes that were guiding and motivating the Marines during their odyssey: raising funds for History Flight and raising awareness about the more than 80,000 servicemembers from throughout the nation still unaccounted for.

History Flight is a nonprofit MIA re­covery organization dedicated to locating and recovering U.S. military personnel previously deemed unrecoverable. LeHew has been with the organization since his 2018 retirement from the Marine Corps. Kinzer joined the group after he retired in 2019, and Shinohara will soon begin work as a History Flight team lead on Betio Island where recovery of Ma­rines who were killed in the Battle of Tarawa is ongoing. History Flight teams combine historical and archival infor­mation with tech­nolo­gies such as ground penetrating radar surveys, mag­netometry and forensic archaeology to conduct searches. They currently have a 93 percent success rate in locating the remains they have searched for.

LeHew, a recipient of the Navy Cross for his actions with Task Force Tarawa on March 23, 2003, in An Nasiriyah, Iraq, chose to depart on the anniversary of D-Day for a few reasons. He didn’t want to leave on Memorial Day so as not to detract from the solemnity of the day. “On Memorial Day there should be an attention on the people of this nation who gave everything … it shouldn’t be the kickoff date to highlight somebody else’s thing,” he said. “I want to spend that day in silent remembrance … thinking about my buddies,” added LeHew, who is the National Commander of the Legion of Valor organization.

LeHew also had a more personal reason for choosing D-Day to begin walking. He thought it would be a good way to honor the memory of his father who served in the Army during World War II and participated in the D-Day landings. “On 6 June 1944, my father was a PFC in the 29th Infantry that came out of the front end of an LCVP [Landing Craft, Vehicle Personnel] … and he managed to cross Omaha Beach … and survive,” LeHew said, adding that his father and the others of his generation “came home [after the war] and built these roads, worked in these towns, and made the America of today for all of us that are sitting here today.”

Kinzer and LeHew and their families spent a few days in the Boston area before kicking off the journey. Bright and early, on June 6, the two Marines went aboard USS Constitution and fired the deck gun for morning colors before they took their first steps on what would become the trip of a lifetime. They traveled through Massachusetts, New York, Pennsylvania, Ohio, Indiana and part of Illinois before rendezvousing with Shinohara, west of Chicago in Elgin, Ill., in August.

Shinohara had some catching up to do. In the early days of the hike, Kinzer and LeHew had been through the breaking-in phase and had already worked out the kinks. They were averaging 20 miles per day, and they had a rhythm. But there was no way Kinzer and LeHew were going to leave Shinohara behind. Gradually, he became acclimated and fell in lockstep with “Team Long Road.” Soon after, he took up the job of monitoring the group’s social media in the evening and documenting the journey with photos and video he took using a small drone.

“There [were] definitely tough mo­ments, but I’m with a bunch of tough guys. We all supported each other and made sure that we were all moving forward and not backwards,” Shinohara said. “The first week that I was out there I had huge blisters the size of golf balls, my back was hurting, my hips were hurting—I wanted to quit. But I knew I started this, and you know as a Marine I can’t not finish it. That mentality that I got from being in the Marines and being with other Marines alongside me, it helped push me forward,” he added.

LeHew, Kinzer and Shinohara planned their route so they could go through small towns and talk to people. They wanted to reach as many people as possible to let them know about History Flight’s dedication to live up to America’s prom­ise to men and women in uniform that if they should fall in service to the nation, they would not be left behind and they would not be forgotten.

Early in the journey when they were close to Attica, N.Y., a retired Marine drove by and offered to give them a ride to a hotel in Attica, which is several miles off the path of the highway, but not before sharing a cold beer with them on the side of the road in the late afternoon summer heat. Before dropping them off at a hotel, the fellow Marine took Kinzer and LeHew to his American Legion post in town where they talked about their cross-country trek with the members who were there. According to LeHew, after hearing the reason behind the walk, the Legionnaires passed a hat and collected $1,500 to donate to History Flight. The next morning, LeHew and Kinzer were given a ride from the town back to Route 20 so they could continue westward.

And that kind of encounter happened all across the country. “I wasn’t prepared for ‘Iowa nice,’ ” said Kinzer, adding that the people who live in the towns they walked through in Iowa really supported them in any way they could to include having kids come out of school to line the streets and cheer as the Marines walked by.

As the walkers covered miles, those small-town Americans came together to form an unofficial support system for the men. And it was all done using modern technology but in a very grass roots way, through a Facebook group LeHew set up called “The Long Road.” The group grew in numbers, slowly at first, but the momentum picked up and the group swelled to more than 14,000 followers. Nearly every day, people would post messages in the group, not just to the walkers, but to each other. Posters would provide relevant information about road conditions, weather and lodging for areas LeHew, Kinzer and Shinohara were approaching. The Facebook group members would also coordinate with each other to give assistance to the men along the way.

And as the Facebook group grew, those early followers would answer questions asked by new followers. They also ex­citedly shared photos and details about meeting the men when they passed through their part of the United States. The Facebook page took on a life of its own according to LeHew. “This isn’t like every platform you find on the internet; this is a good one. There’s no finger point­ing, there’s no politics. It was a com­munity bulletin board that worked the way community bulletin boards are supposed to work,” he said.

The cross-country trek wasn’t without its complications. Early on in the journey, LeHew was infected with anaplasmosis from a tick’s bite. He had to leave the road for 10 days while he recovered. This was before Shinohara joined the group, so Kinzer had to power on by himself, which he said was more of a challenge than he had anticipated, adding that he was glad to have some temporary company as he was passing through one town when a resident came out and walked a few miles with him. “One thing I didn’t expect to happen to me was I did get lonely out there on the road. Obviously going with somebody makes it better,” Kinzer said.

Over the miles, they faced danger from drivers they shared the highway with. LeHew was quick to point out, however, that truck drivers on Route 20 were some of their biggest allies. “American truckers were the best people across 12 states,” he said, explaining that truck drivers would alert each other to be on the lookout for the walkers, while passing the word about their mission. The average automobile was more of a concern for Team Long Road. “When you walk a highway there’s not a time that you can take your eyes off the road for 3,365 miles … [just in case] you have to dive over a guard rail because somebody is texting,” said LeHew. He explained that it was draining to do that all day, and that he hadn’t really thought about that aspect of the trip when he was planning it. “You had to really learn, even though it’s not land nav, and ‘all I’ve got to do is follow the road,’ so many different things are happening on this road that you are mentally exhausted at the end of every day,” he said, adding that the hyper vigilance was similar to being on patrol nearly every day for 6 1/2 months.

There were some light and funny mo­ments on The Long Road. In September while they were walking by a cornfield in Iowa, a turkey accompanied them for 3 miles. In a video that LeHew posted in the Facebook group, the turkey can be seen trotting along with the hikers. “The Long Road is for everyone, friend and fowl,” quips LeHew in the video, which was viewed 63,000 times and garnered dozens of comments and reactions.

Shinohara said there were other funny animal encounters besides the turkey trot. On one stretch of road, he looked behind him to see two Great Pyrenees dogs running toward him at full speed. He prepared for what he was sure was going to be an attack, but the two large dogs only wanted to play and walked along with the trio for a while. Shinohara said they had to backtrack about a mile to return the dogs to their home out of concern that the exuberant animals might be hit by a car.

When they didn’t have animal com­panions to laugh at, Kinzer said that during those long days on the road they had some entertaining conversations with each other, and they kept each other laughing with funny stories.

They didn’t walk side by side all the time. Sometimes, they spread out along the road so they could watch each others’ backs. LeHew said he developed an appreciation for the alone time during those stretches. “Most people during, their day, they are moving so fast they don’t have the think space to be able to weigh …. what’s working, what’s not working,” he said. “It allows you to sit there when you don’t have the distractions and everything else to get a certain amount of clarity that isn’t afforded to you anywhere else so you are not making rash, emotional decisions,” he added.

Along the way they accomplished a few of the “bucket list” items that led to the idea of the trip. They walked through Yellowstone National Park and saw the geyser Old Faithful, and their stay in Chicago included taking in a White Sox baseball game with Kinzer delivering the ball to the pitcher’s mound so LeHew could throw out the first pitch. “It’s something I’ll never get to do in my life again,” Kinzer said. “They interviewed us on Sox radio … those are experiences some people never get in a lifetime, you know you can’t trade them for anything,” he added.

At night they slept in hotels or they camped. They ate in diners and small local restaurants and sometimes they cooked. LeHew noted that along the way, volunteer firefighters were incredibly accommodating, allowing the Marines to use the bathrooms, bunkrooms and kitchens in the fire stations. Perhaps their biggest game changer in terms of logistics happened in Moville, Iowa, when they welcomed a new member of The Long Road Team: a motorhome.

For the rest of the voyage, they took turns driving the 1985 Winnebago Chieftain that LeHew bought. It served as a forward operating base on wheels and provided them with the needed supplies when they traversed the more desolate stretches of the route. It also served as a source of shelter when no other accommodations were available.

All across the country, there were moments of absolute awe and wonder. “You’re standing in the middle of an American empty highway and you’re watching nature’s fireworks show go off at night and there’s no headlights that’s disrupting any of this … the whole sky looks like it’s on fire,” said LeHew. “But it looks like it’s on fire because as the sun’s going down and it’s uninterrupted by all of these other influences from headlights or anything else.” he added.

“Until you actually lay eyes on a high alpine lake that’s frozen over, surrounded by snow-capped mountains on all sides … a picture doesn’t do it any justice. Words don’t do it any justice. It’s one of those things where you have to be there, you have to see it,” said Kinzer. He said he made it a point to appreciate the natural beauty of every region they walked through but there was one place in particular that mesmerized him. “Really the place I think that got me the most was the western side of the Cascades … getting into that rainforest area on the western side of them as you drop down into the coastal area that was otherworldly,” he said.

The journey came to a close on Dec. 17, 2022, in Newport, Ore. A large crowd of people lined the streets to greet the walkers as they reached their destination—the end of the highway.

“For the last mile, where everybody started coming in, it was amazing,” Shinohara said. “The craziest thing was seeing people we met along the way. We posted when we were going to get to Newport and there were people that we met along the way on Route 20 that came to see us and … it made it more special because … someone would say, ‘hey, remember me from Iowa?’ It was just an amazing feeling.”

While Kinzer, LeHew and Shinohara have completed their journey on The Long Road, the intent behind their epic journey is still a driving force in their everyday lives. “This affects the living, not just the dead,” LeHew said, referencing the families of those fallen men who were never recovered and the sadness they live with.

With that in mind, History Flight con­tinues its work locating remains of Ameri­ca’s MIAs. Recovery operations on Betio, in the Philippines and in Europe are ongoing and are nearly back to pre-COVID-19 levels. And on this Memorial Day weekend, LeHew and his family will be doing what has become a tradition for them. They will be at Arlington National Cemetery visiting graves, including the grave of LeHew’s father, LeHew’s Marines who were killed in Iraq, and the servicemembers who were killed in World War II, but only recently were brought home through the work of History Flight.

Author’s note: To learn more about History Flight, read “Until They All Come Home” in the Leatherneck November 2020 issue. To donate, visit www.historyflight.com/donate.