“Christmas Truce”

By F. Gerald Downey

It was late afternoon Dec. 24, 1970, and I stood on the low ground that was to be our night defensive position. I looked up at the mountains and ridges which were fast disappearing into the heavy fog that had unexpectedly descended upon us. The change in weather had canceled out our normal resupply choppers but I wasn’t too concerned about it. The previous night we had discovered a rice cache and one of our mechanical ambushes had bagged a large, wild pig. If necessary, I knew we could feed the whole company for two more days. The worst of it was that the failure to resupply meant no delivery of the item we valued above all others—the mail. Infantrymen will always grumble. It comes with the first issue of boot and brass polish, but on this particular Christmas Eve, the grumbling was louder and a little more bitter as we dug in for the night.

We were “Charlie” Company, 2nd Battalion of the 1st Infantry, 196th Infantry Brigade, U.S. Army, and I was the company commander. Naturally, when the word was sent out, I was the first to get it. “Christmas truce tonight,” the battalion S-3 informed me over the radio. “You know the rules of engagement.”

“Roger,” I replied in a voice that must have betrayed my cynicism. “No offensive actions, all patrols are to be defensive in nature and avoid contact whenever possible.”

“You got it. Have a good Christmas Eve.”

“Roger. Enjoy your mail.” I couldn’t resist that last little dig. What line officer could?

It was only 4 p.m. and already the fog was nearly at ground level. We were in the Antenna Valley, west of Da Nang, in what used to be the tactical area of operations of the United States Marines. Oh, the Marines were still around, but they were gradually standing down, and during those times, except for some advisory teams to the South Vietnamese, they were generally much closer to Da Nang. Years of Marine Corps campaigning in the valley were much evidenced by the scores of well-chosen and well-policed old defensive positions in the area. A Marine officer had given me my pre-operational briefing on the valley a few days before. It wasn’t my first tour, and I was pretty salty myself, but I was impressed at how well he knew his business.

Night came fast in I Corps and by 5 p.m. it was dark. The truce went into effect at 6 p.m. At 6:20 p.m. I received a call from the 1st Platoon. “A platoon of NVA just marched across our front, about 200 meters out.” The 1st Platoon was sitting on a small knoll 10 grid squares closer to the valley’s mouth. “How’d you see ’em in this weather?” I asked skeptically.

“We spotted them when the fog broke for a minute,” the platoon leader answered. “They walked right between us and our ambushes. But that’s not all.”

“What else?”

“The last guy in line actually turned around and waved at us! Some of the guys swear he wished them a Merry Christmas!”

“He probably wished them some­thing,” I said as I went off the air, “but I doubt if it was a Merry Christmas.” I was worried that our mechanical ambushes had been spotted, that maybe our guys were in too much of a hurry to get back before the fog and night set in and had been a little careless.

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Since the claymore mines were detonated by the tripping of a strand of nearly invisible fishing line (which caused the completion of the electrical circuit of a 9-volt transistor radio battery and thus set off the fuse), once the mechanical ambushes were in place, they were too dangerous to move until morning light. Then again, maybe that platoon of NVA had just been lucky.

At 7:30 p.m. one of the claymore ambushes in front of our position exploded. As required by regulations, I reported it to the battalion headquarters and went on about my business, expecting to check it out in the morning as was the established routine. I was shocked when the S-3 came back with, “Check it out. We may need proof that it was a defensive action in case we get charged with violating the truce.”

“It can wait until morning,” I answered with customary defiance.
The battalion commander came on then. “I want it checked out.”
So much for defiance. The squad that placed the claymore was sent to survey their results. Even in the fog I felt their glares as they trudged by in the darkness. The last man out, Private First Class Robinson, paused long enough to lay a hand on my shoulder and whisper, “Don’t sweat it, Captain. Ain’t no biggie.”

Twenty minutes went by with no report from the patrol. I grew more anxious by the moment, worrying that they had gotten lost in the muggy darkness and might well be unknowingly wandering into the kill area of another squad’s mechanical ambush. I reached for the radio to call them back when suddenly the night was pierced by bursts of M16 fire, a short return blast by an AK-47, more American shots and the explosion of a fragmentation grenade. Filled with angry thoughts at those men who forced me to order young men out unnecessarily on Christmas Eve, I sat holding the microphone, calm on the outside while fuming within.

The call came quickly from an excited PFC Robinson. “The squad leader’s been hit! We need a Dust Off [helicopter] right away!”

“Hold on, I’ll send a medic out to you right now. Can you move your wounded man?”

Robinson was calmer when he replied, “No, I don’t think so. He’s bleeding pretty bad.”

My radio operator scurried off to chase down the platoon medic, Doc Ybarra, who was already coming on the run. He hunkered down beside me as I talked to Robinson. “Are you still in contact?”

“Negative.”

“Okay, tell me your situation.”

Robinson’s voice was well-composed now, He was clearly becoming more comfortable with being the man in charge. “Roger. First, I just sent Hale and Fergy back to the perimeter to guide the Doc.”

“Good thinking. Now, what happened?”

“We walked right up on three NVA. They were dragging a body away from the ambush site. Harder than hell to see out here and we were on them before we saw ’em. Luckily, they didn’t see us either. Sergeant Gray fired first and got one of ‘em. The others fired back and took off. Gray went to throw a grenade and it went off just as it left his hand. He’s really hurting, Captain. You better get the Doc out here fast.”

Ybarra was gone, following the panting guides, Hale and Ferguson, who had made the sprint back to the perimeter in less than two minutes. “Doc’s on his way,” I told Robinson. “I’m going to order up a medical evacuation. Have Doc call me and give me a situation report.”

Behind me I heard my radio operator curse.

I turned quickly to him, “What’s the matter?”

I couldn’t see him very well, but I knew from the sound of his voice that he was positively livid. “I went ahead and started the Dust Off procedure on the battalion radio, sir. They won’t come out!”

He was right. The S-3, whom I knew to be a good officer, despite the fact that we didn’t much like one another, told me, “Sorry. The CO of the Dust Offs has grounded his birds due to the bad weather.”

I put the S-3 on hold and went back to the other radio. Doc Ybarra was calling in. “Minor frag wounds in the arm and neck,” he reported. “Most of the blast hit him just behind the right wrist. It’s pretty badly mangled but I think we could save the hand if we get him out of here quickly.”

Back to the other radio. “I need that medevac, weather or no weather.”

The S-3 was doing his best. “Stand by. I’ll try them again.” It took him an hour. I looked at my watch. Actually, the whole affair was less than 20 minutes. The S-3 returned. “Still no dice.”

“Did you talk to the CO?” I asked plaintively.

“No, just the duty officer. Everyone else was gone to the company Christmas party. What’s the status of your man?”

I put him on hold again and went back to Doc Ybarra. “He’s gonna live, Sir. But unless we get him out of here, he’s gonna be without one hand for the rest of his life. That ain’t too good when you’re a carpenter like Sgt Gray.”

By this time the S-3 had come on the platoon frequency. “I’ll try again.”

I was about to agree when a new voice joined in. “Hello, Army, this is the United States Marine Corps,” the voice said in a pleasant but twangy Texas drawl. “Call sign, Delta Two-Seven.”

I was in no mood for any interservice fraternization at the moment. “What can I do for you, Delta Two-Seven?”

“I think maybe it’s what I can do for you. Are you the ground commander?”

“Roger.”

“Well, we’ve been listening in for a while, and since I’m in your area, I thought I might drop in and give your man a hand—so to speak.”

“Negative, negative!” The S-3 chimed in. “No aircraft allowed in this area due to weather.”

Delta Two-Seven talked right over him. “I think maybe the bad guys are trying to jam you, Army. You hear somebody else on the line?”

“Nothing but a lot of fuzz, garble and static.”

“Me too. Listen, I should be over you pretty soon. When you hear my engines, give a light to guide on, okay?”

“Will do.” I paused to go back to my own people. “Doc, you got a good LZ out there?”

“Roger. And I’ve got my signal light with me, too. But it’s gonna be tricky because we’re awful close to those ridges.”

I was about to reply when the sound of twin helicopter engines came right over us. Damn, he’s really low, I thought to myself. “Delta Two-Seven, you just passed right over us!”

The reply was a little higher pitched but still cool. “Okay, comin’ back around again. Your guy wasn’t kidding about you being close to those ridges!”

“Ah, Roger, Two-Seven. Sounds like you’re directly south of us now.”

“Good. That’s what I figure too. Hold on, be right back.”

“Doc, when you hear the engines get loud again, give ‘em the light.”

A few seconds passed and then he was on us again. “Oh my God,” I thought aloud. “He’s coming too fast—he’ll never get over the ridges!” Somehow, he made it. I don’t know how. There was no way he could have seen them in that fog, but he made it.

“Hey, Army, what happened to the light? I think I saw one flash and that was all.”

“Doc?”

“Batteries went dead. Got off one flash is all. What are we gonna do now?”

Delta Seven’s next message made it clear that we had to come up with an answer and be quick about it. “I’ve got just enough fuel for one more pass. No light, no land! Sorry.”

My radio operator banged me excitedly on the shoulder. “Sir, when the patrol left, I saw a trip flare on Robinson’s shoulder harness!”
I had time only to grip that 18-year-old’s hand hard as I grinned into the microphone. “Robby, you still have that trip flare on your harness?”

Ybarra yelled his reply loud enough that I swore I heard him without the assistance of the radio speaker. “Yeah, he’s got it. Oh man, that’s great!”

Delta Two-Seven was with us again. I looked out toward the direction of the patrol and was rewarded by the sudden pop and fog diffused light of an ignited trip flare. Delta Two-Seven laughed, “I got it, Army, I got it! Heads down, fellas, here we come!”

The guy was good, no doubt about it. The helicopter couldn’t have been on the ground more than five or six seconds when I heard the engines rev and the faster whooshing of the rotor blades. “Got your boy, Army. I’ll have him in Da Nang in about 10 minutes courtesy of the United States Marines.”

The men around me cheered. I was privately thankful that the wetness of the night had dampened my face. “Thanks. I’ll stop by the officers’ club and buy you a drink in about 10 days when this mission’s over.”

“Uh-uh, too late. This is my last flight. I’m homeward bound day after tomorrow. Appreciate the offer.” Just before the sound of the engines faded from Antenna Valley I heard him say, “Merry Christmas, Army.”

We all answered together—me, Ybarra, the S-3 and even the battalion commander who must have been listening in for a long time without saying anything—”Yes, and Merry Christmas to you too, Marine.”

The next time I was in Da Nang I walked into the Marine officers’ club and bought the house a round, paid the bill and left. I didn’t explain, and they didn’t ask.

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This painting by John DeGrasse illustrates the scene when a Christmas truce was called on Dec. 24, 1970, in the Antenna Valley, Vietnam. John DeGrasse.

Toys for Tots: 75 Years of Delivering Joy to Children

By Jennifer Castro

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William L. Hendricks was a major in the Marine Corps Reserve when he established Toys for Tots in 1947. Hendricks worked in the motion picture industry, and he was presented with an Honorary Oscar for his patriotism after writing and producing the Marine Corps documentary, “A Force in Readiness,” in 1961.

Toys for Tots was founded in 1947 by Marine Corps Reserve officer Major William “Bill” L. Hendricks when his wife, Diane, wanted to donate dolls to a charity that would distribute the toys to children in need. Unable to find such an organization, Diane convinced her husband to create one. Hendricks, who was a public relations director for Warner Brothers Studios, called not only on his celebrity friends to help, he also looked to fellow Marine reservists to get the job done. The project was a huge success: Hendricks’ reserve unit in Los Angeles, Calif., collected and distributed 5,000 toys that year.

The program was officially adopted by the Marine Corps in 1948 and went nationwide almost immediately. Today it is recognized as an official activity of the Marine Corps and is part of the official mission of the Marine Corps Reserve. For the past 75 years, the Toys for Tots program along with the U.S. Marine Corps Reserve have led a campaign to collect new and unwrapped toys, providing millions of gifts annually to underprivileged children during the holiday season.

Perhaps the most familiar part of the campaign is the festive seasonal posters advertising the toy drive.

Of the many artists responsible for creating iconic imagery for Toys for Tots, Marine Corps combat artist Keith McConnell is of exceptional note. He designed nine posters for Toys for Tots including for the 35th, 50th, 60th and 70th anniversaries. McConnell served as a combat artist during the Vietnam War and during Operation Desert Storm. Following his service in Vietnam, he went on to illustrate children’s books and medical texts.

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Walt Disney. Courtesy of Toys for Tots.

The Toys for Tots program and its posters have had a long association with cartoonists. The organization’s first poster was personally supervised by Walt Disney in 1948. Disney also designed the original Toys for Tots logo featuring a toy train. Over the years, Toys for Tots posters have featured numerous cartoon characters, including Daffy Duck, Bugs Bunny, Sylvester the Cat, Wile E. Coyote and the Road Runner, as well as Hank Ketcham’s Dennis the Menace and his dog, Ruff.

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1972, by Hank Ketcham. Courtesy of Hank Ketcham.

Bob Moore is another notable artist who designed a Toys for Tots poster. A cornerstone of early Disney animation, Moore was a liaison to the U.S. military, producing special projects for the U.S. government during World War II. He designed the Mickey Mouse-themed poster for the 1978 Toys for Tots campaign. The National Museum of the Marine Corps collection contains an original galley proof of the special poster.


Author’s bio: Jennifer Castro is the Cultural and Material History Curator for the National Museum of the Marine Corps.

Click here to view the related Saved Round from the December issue.

“Not Bad for a Lance Corporal”

Philanthropist, Entrepreneur Bob Parsons Turned the Discipline He Learned in the Marine Corps into High-Tech Success

By Joel Searls

Bob Parsons’ name is synonymous with entrepreneurship, resilience, and the American spirit. Parsons came from very humble beginnings and grew up in Baltimore, Md., fighting for every inch of success he achieved. He founded two successful tech companies, Parsons Tech­nology (sold to Intuit in 1994 for $64 mil­lion) and GoDaddy (sold to private equity investors in 2011 for $2.25 billion). In 2012, Parsons started YAM Worldwide Inc., for his entrepreneurial endeavors in power sports, golf, real estate, marketing, innovation, and philanthropy. Parsons’ organizations include Parsons Xtreme Golf (PXG), Harley Davidson of Scotts­dale, YAM Properties and, most importantly, The Bob & Renee Parsons Foundation, which has awarded donations to 100 charities and organizations world­wide since 2012.

I recently spoke with Parsons to dis­cuss how his time in the Marine Corps contributed to his later success in life.

How were you inspired to join the Marines? Well, you must understand I was ter­rible in school. Just terrible. If I were a kid today, I would be pumped so full of Ritalin! My senior year, I discovered the opposite sex and alcohol, which didn’t help my schooling either. I was failing several subjects and I was pretty sure I was not going to graduate.

Bob Parsons (top), founder of internet hosting provider GoDaddy, attributes much of his success to his Marine Corps training. Parsons (above) went to boot camp at MCRD Parris Island and was an infantry Marine in Vietnam.

 

One day … in the spring of 1968, I had two friends, Aggie Psirocus and Charlie Mason, tell me that we were going to talk to a Marine Corps recruiter and ask if I would like to join them. Aggie had already joined and was helping the recruiter … so Charlie and I went down with him. The recruiter had us at “Hello.” We walked in and he said, “How are you men doing?” This guy looked like Sergeant Rock; everything was starched, and the creases were perfect, and he was in incredible shape. He asked us to wait a moment and went and rattled in his closet a little bit, came out and said, “I was gonna pour you men a drink, but I’m all out.” I think one of us said, “Don’t even worry. We’ll bring it next time.” He said, “Nah, it’s okay. We’ll drink my stuff.” Thinking back on it, I am pretty sure his stuff never existed.

Bob Parsons (top), founder of internet hosting provider GoDaddy, attributes much of his success to his Marine Corps training. Parsons (above) went to boot camp at MCRD Parris Island and was an infantry Marine in Vietnam.

After about an hour, this guy knew he had us and said, “If you want, I’ll see if I can get you in,” and we said, “Absolutely!” He told us there were three reasons we should enlist now. No. 1, Charlie and I could join on the buddy plan and go through training together. No. 2, we didn’t have to leave for Parris Island until August. Somehow or another we thought Parris Island in August would be a good thing. At least we’d have our summer at home in Baltimore. Then, the third reason, which made all the sense in the world to us, was that we didn’t have to worry about getting drafted into the Army. We said, “That sounds good,” and then he said, “We’re going to have to check your grades and so forth,” and my thought was, “Uh oh!”

I was 17 at the time so my mother had to sign my papers. She was a little reluctant, but she finally did. I went back with my papers two weeks later, still worried about the recruiter checking my grades, and he said, “Robert, we think you’ll make a fine Marine.” Our first orders were to report to Fort Holabird for transfer to Parris Island.

When I showed my orders to my teachers, they knew what was happening, they all passed me! In many ways, I owe the Marine Corps my high school diploma. The more I thought about going to boot camp, the more I could not wait to get there, and the same was true for my buddy, Charlie.

When we got down to Parris Island, the DI that got on the bus didn’t exactly say, “How are you men doing?”

Charlie and I were both made riflemen.

The bunker in Vietnam where Parsons served with Delta Co, 1st Battalion, 26th Marines on Hill 190 in Quang Nam Province.
The bunker in Vietnam where Parsons served with Delta Co, 1st Battalion, 26th Marines on Hill 190 in Quang Nam Province.

What was your experience in Vietnam?

The bunker in Vietnam where Parsons served with Delta Co, 1st Battalion, 26th Marines on Hill 190 in Quang Nam Province.

My unit was “Delta” Company, 1st Battalion, 26th Marines and we operated on Hill 190. We were in Quảng Nam Province, where there were rice paddies as far as you could see on one side and mountains and jungle on the other side. Our job was to keep the North Vietnamese Army out of those villages, which we did by running ambushes at night. When I got there, the most senior man in my squad had only been there for six weeks … The squad was ambushed a few days before I got there. Four Marines were KIA [Killed in Action], and one Marine was seriously WIA [Wounded in Action]. I was one of the replacements.

The bunker in Vietnam where Parsons served with Delta Co, 1st Battalion, 26th Marines on Hill 190 in Quang Nam Province.
The bunker in Vietnam where Parsons served with Delta Co, 1st Battalion, 26th Marines on Hill 190 in Quang Nam Province.

After meeting with my squad, I sat on a wall while I was waiting to go into the bush and thought, “Wow, I’m going to be here for 13 months. The most senior guy here has only been here for six weeks. How in the world am I going to live through this?” Then it occurred to me as I looked out at the valley that I am going to die here. When I accepted that, every­thing changed for me. Then I made myself two promises. The first promise was I would do everything I could to do my job as a United States Marine. I wanted to make my folks back home proud and not let the guys in my squad down. My second promise was I wanted to do everything I could to be alive for mail call.
Many of my buddies from the war told me they accepted death. They said, “I thought for sure I was going to die.” I believe that made us a much more formidable combat unit. We were worried about one thing and one thing only: doing our job. I hadn’t been with my squad for four hours when I saw my first combat. A fellow Marine was hurt horrifically—his name was Ermel Hunt.

The bunker in Vietnam where Parsons served with Delta Co, 1st Battalion, 26th Marines on Hill 190 in Quang Nam Province.

That night our squad was set up in one place and a sister squad was set up in a location a couple clicks apart. We had a corpsman with us, and they did not. We got a radio call from Hill 190 that said, “Get your ass over there as quick as you can with the corpsman.” I remember running through those rice paddies … We get there and their squad leader, Larry Blackwell, was in the rice paddy and he was losing his cookies. He looked like he was in shock and the Huey was going to land right on top of him. When I saw it, I took off and started pushing Larry until we hit a rice paddy dike and went ass over apple cart into the adjacent paddy. The Huey missed us both. At first, he was pissed at me, and then he realized what had happened, so then he thanked me. Did I save his bacon? Oh, for sure.

The second night we were moving out on an ambush, and a Marine named Ray Livsey was walking point. He used to call himself Sgt Rock … walking through a rice paddy is one nasty thing … walking on the rice paddy dikes was so much easier. The problem was that the North Vietnamese knew it was easy. The point man made the decision if he was willing to walk on the dikes or not, and Ray said, “I’m going to walk on the dikes.” It wasn’t five minutes, KABOOM! The explosion mangled his legs. I helped carry him about a mile back to the medevac point.

When we got back to Hill 190 the next morning, I went to clean my rifle. After falling over and over while carrying Ray, my rifle was straight mud from the tip of the barrel to the beginning of the chamber. Had I pulled the trigger, oh my! Thank God that didn’t happen, but I learned you’ve got to keep the barrel up and out of the mud.

I did every job. I walked “tail end Charlie,” which is the safest but also the creepiest job. Then I carried a radio for a while. During Vietnam that was the only communication for the squad, so being the radio man was like wearing a sign that said, “Please shoot me first.” Eventual­ly, I volunteered for the point team, which is how I got hurt.

One month to the day after I arrived, we were going through a village. I’m walking second point; Gene was first point and Gene’s a real high-stepping guy, so he steps over this trip wire and of course, I hit it. When the trap exploded, at first, I didn’t know it was me. As I was laying on the ground, I reached over to stop some of the bleeding on my leg and I realized my elbow joint was outside of my arm … The boys carried me back and then I was medevacked in a jeep. I eventually ended up in Yokosuka Naval Hospital in Japan for the better part of two months. Then I received orders back to the bush.

Parsons was wounded a month after he arrived in Vietnam and subsequently received a Purple Heart.
Parsons was wounded a month after he arrived in Vietnam and subsequently received a Purple Heart.

In the Marine Corps back then, you had to be wounded three times before you could opt out. I don’t know if that’s changed, but it was three times, assuming you were physically able. When I got to Okinawa, they did a full physical since I came from the hospital and saw my elbow still hadn’t healed. So, they put me into a casualty company.

Parsons was wounded a month after he arrived in Vietnam and subsequently received a Purple Heart.

Eventually all my wounds healed, and I told the doctor over at the sick bay I wanted to go back. I said, “Sir, I am all healed and I’m ready to go back.” The doctor said to me, “Parsons, you did what you needed to do. If you want, I’ll keep you here all war, son.” I said to him, “Nah, I want to go back. I want to be with my squad.” Even though it had only been a month; I was closer to them than so many people. He said, “OK.” He put it through and several days later I got notice: “Here’s your orders. You’re going to leave in the morning. And, your payroll records, which had been lost since you were wounded, have finally showed up.” I was given four months’ pay and told to, “Go off base, have yourself a good time, and be back at midnight.”

At 3 in the morning, I was still whoop­ing it up. As I’m walking, the rain is com­ing down sideways. I see a guy walking towards me. I recognized it was the guy who I saved that first night in the bush, Larry Blackwell. He told me that he was wounded when his squad was ambushed. Because it was his third time wounded, he didn’t have to go back to a rifle company.

It was his third Purple Heart, and he was now stationed in Marine Corps intelli­gence … He stops, and he says to me, “You know you saved my life,” and I said, “I know.” … He says, “The guy that runs the print shop just left, and we haven’t put someone in that position yet.” He said, “I can get that for you,” and I said, “Really, how?” He goes, “Well, the gunnery ser­geant is a friend of mine, and when I tell him that you saved my life and that you’ve already been there and you’ve got a Purple Heart, he’ll probably be OK with assigning you instead of someone just coming through.” I said, “I appreciate that, brother.” My orders were for 7 a.m. and it would be tough for him to make a change. And, in a way, I wanted to go back.

When I arrived back on base, I was immediately arrested for not being back by midnight. I said, “I was wounded, and the Navy lost my payroll records and I’m going back to Vietnam tomorrow.” The second lieutenant said, “Get him the f— out of here,” which was him being nice to me. I went back to the barracks and a couple of hours later woke up with a hangover from hell. Whoever was managing the formation called my name and said, “I’ve got orders that you’re now stationed here on Okinawa.”

An entrepreneur at heart, the veteran Marine established Parsons Xtreme Golf (PXG), a company that manufactures custom-fitted golf clubs.
An entrepreneur at heart, the veteran Marine established Parsons Xtreme Golf (PXG), a company that manufactures custom-fitted golf clubs.

Blackwell came to me a couple of months later and said, “Parsons, I came over to say goodbye. I requested a transfer back to a rifle company. I can’t deal with it here.” I said, “Brother, good luck and I’m going to miss you.” A couple of weeks later I also put in my request to go back to my squad in Vietnam. When the request got to the company gunny, [he] looked at it and said, “Parsons, you’re requesting to go back to your unit?” I said, “Yeah,” and he said, “Have you lost your mind? You’ll get yourself killed, son.” He ripped it up and said, “Request denied.” I requested again a few months later and was denied again.

How did your Marine Corps experience factor into your return home from Vietnam?

An entrepreneur at heart, the veteran Marine established Parsons Xtreme Golf (PXG), a company that manufactures custom-fitted golf clubs.

When I came home from the war, I was a different guy in a lot of ways. First, I worked in a steel mill as a laborer. Then, another job I applied for and got was a machinist apprentice.

Eventually, I saw an ad for the Univer­sity of Baltimore, [that was] focused on veterans. You didn’t need to take the en­trance exams or provide your high school grades. If you had a GED or graduated from high school, that was sufficient. My cousin lent me the money to pay the first advance on my tuition. That’s how I was able to go to college and study accounting. Lo and behold, I graduated Magna Cum Laude. Then I took the CPA exam and passed it the first time. I bought a book later and taught myself how to program a computer and became a hobbyist. I used that book to start my first company, Parsons Technology. I would never have done any of this without the Marine Corps! The Marine Corps totally changed me.

Here’s what they taught me: they taught me the importance of discipline—not discipline in the form of punishment, although there was plenty of that. They taught me that responsibility is sacred. If you have a job to do, you must have the discipline and backbone to see it through. You don’t have to want to do it, but you must do it to the best of your ability to not let the guy next to you down.

In enlisted boot camp, when somebody screws up, the whole platoon gets punished except for the guy that screws up. If some­one is caught with pogey bait in the bar­racks, your brothers in the platoon are going to push all the racks to the middle, and everybody is going to be doing squats as low as they can with their hands behind their head, which is very painful after a while. They go around the barracks re­peatedly and the guy with the pogey bait stands there and eats his candy bar and watches them suffer. When everybody passes him, they usually say, “I’m going to f—ing kill you,” but what that drives across is that we operate as a unit. If you don’t operate the way you are supposed to, it hurts the whole unit. The unit is only as strong as the weakest link. That really brought the concept of teamwork home, and teamwork is our calling card.

A gift made for Parsons by 6th Engineer Support Battalion.
A gift made for Parsons by 6th Engineer Support Battalion.

The other two lessons I learned that helped me a lot were that I could accom­plish much more than I ever dreamed I could, and I had a right to be proud. I’ll say it again—everything I have ever ac­complished I owe to the United States Marine Corps and the lessons I learned while serving.

A gift made for Parsons by 6th Engineer Support Battalion.

How did your Marine Corps experience in Vietnam change and motivate you to start your own company?I came back from Vietnam with a new work ethic, but not all the changes in me were positive. I was a different guy. The guy that went over there was on the happy-go-lucky side, liked being around people, liked going to different events and so forth. The guy who came home had a short temper, was always a little bit depressed, occasionally, when he was alone, he’d cry and didn’t want to be around people. He buried himself in his work and that kept him going.

Sometimes I think, without PTSD, I wouldn’t be as successful as I am. I was a worker bee to get my first business off the ground and wrote all the programming code with no formal education. I would come to work at 8 in the morning, let’s say Monday, straight through to Wednesday at 8 in the morning, and about 8 o’clock at night on Wednesday I’d start to slow down and not get much done. I knew it was time to quit when I would start to hallucinate and hear voices that weren’t there. I worked those crazy hours until I got my business up off the ground, and I did it because I loved it. Then I took it a little easier, but I worked hard every day, again, because I loved it. Would I have done that without the Marine Corps? No … They taught me the importance of hard work. I couldn’t outspend my competitors, I couldn’t out-hire them, but I could outwork them.

My making peace with probable death in Vietnam 100 percent allowed me to focus on what I had to do. I will tell you: I’m no hero. And many Marines saw way more combat than I did. I’m sure camara­d­erie exists in other branches, but nowhere does it exist like in the Marine Corps. I mean, nobody else celebrates their birth­days. Do you ever hear of the Air Force celebrating birthdays? We have a cele­bration at my company every year. Any­one that was in the Marine Corps can participate, and I even let a few squids [Navy] into the event. We have a cake, drink a shot, and sing the Marine Corps hymn. Everybody looks forward to it and everybody gets “Semper Fi’d,” and we share a little story here or there. We keep it alive.

Bob and his wife, Renee, founded The Bob & Renee Parsons Foundation, which has made significant donations to 100 charities and organizations worldwide since 2012.
Bob and his wife, Renee, founded The Bob & Renee Parsons Foundation, which has made significant donations to 100 charities and organizations worldwide since 2012.

Everything we do is a tribute to the Marine Corps. Look at the PXG logo … that’s military stencil. Our clubs, our best irons, the model number is 0311. Another line of our irons is 0317. We have a “Heroes Program,” which verifies service and gives significant discounts to veterans, guys and gals in the military, law enforcement, firefighters, and EMTs. We call them all heroes.

What are you currently focused on and what do you want your legacy to be?

Every year, my wife and I give Semper Fi & America’s Fund $10 million. We also donate money to help prevent suicide. We help Team Rubicon, which give veterans a purpose, something to do … We recently donated $5 million to the Mount Sinai Center for Psychedelic Healing. One mil­lion of that went to the Bronx VA, where they are doing field trials with veterans. They understand as much as anybody about PTSD. We helped MAPS (Multi-Disciplinary Association for Psychedelic Studies) with $2 million for their third field trial intended to help with MDMA FDA approval. Right now, our foundation donates an average of a million dollars every 14 days to charity. That’s not bad for a lance corporal.

Bob and his wife, Renee, founded The Bob & Renee Parsons Foundation, which has made significant donations to 100 charities and organizations worldwide since 2012.

Author’s bio: Joel Searls is a creative and business professional in the enter­tainment industry. He writes for We are the Mighty. He serves in the Marine Corps Reserve and enjoys time with his family and friends.

The Golf Course

By Maj Tom Schueman, USMC And Zainullah Zaki

Editor’s note: This excerpt from the book “Always Faithful” by Maj Tom Schueman and his translator, Zainullah “Zak” Zaki, is told from Schueman’s perspective. It was reprinted with per­mission of William Morrow, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers.

We almost always started patrols out of Patrol Base (PB) Vegas by going through Kodezay since the Taliban were less likely to put an improvised explosive device (IED) there. They had long since learned they were better off not killing the village kids. I explained the facts of life in the moment to the lieutenant replacing me as we discussed the final familiarization patrol we would accompany them on. Most of 1st Platoon had already headed to Camp Leatherneck to begin the movement back to Camp Pendleton. But Sergeant Decker; Zainullah “Zak” Zaki; my machine-gun squad leader, Sergeant Nikirk; and I would serve as tour guides for a patrol otherwise composed of newly arrived Marines. The lieutenant leading the platoon replacing us was a brave, intelligent and talented officer. But I could tell that not everything I said was getting through.

“Ninety-eight percent of the world’s opium poppies grow in Afghanistan,” I told him. “Helmand Province, specifically Sangin district, is the heart of the drug market that funds the Taliban.”

He nodded. Training had already armed him with this fact. “Between September and December 2010, we were in a firefight on every patrol. Every. One. For 100 days.” Again, he nodded, face impassive.

I knew what he was thinking and feel­ing. I had been there seven months before, armed with training-based understanding rather than understanding born of exper­ience. Every infantry officer who truly has the calling wants direct combat. After all, our stated mission is to locate, close with, and destroy the enemy. But the truth is that it’s all academic until combat is a present reality. Then you start thinking hard about the implications of everything you thought you wanted. You start feeling things that just can’t be fully understood until the possibility of violent death is truly manifest.

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Schueman and the Marines of 1st Plt, “Kilo” Co, 3rd Bn, 5th Marines at Camp Leatherneck in Afghanistan.

“Before January, we found hundreds of IEDs. But, man, look, back in January, the Taliban told the farmers they were behind on poppy production. The poppy farmers said they could not farm for fear of getting killed in the crossfire between us and the Taliban. So, the Taliban signed a fake-ass treaty, saying they were sick of fighting, and they just wanted to join the government. They said they would clean up the IEDs, turn in their weapons, and farm.”

I had the lieutenant’s attention. IEDs, and their effects, are the common thread of the global war on terror. A reduction in their use mean fewer potential casualties for his Marines. Zak interrupted us. Some children from Kodezay had arrived at PB Vegas to tell Zak that while we had been patrolling near the adjacent river the day before, the Taliban took advantage of our absence to spend a day digging in 15-20 IEDs all over the golf course. That was the perfect segue for me.

“So, the Taliban and the Afghan govern­ment signed the treaty. All of us here on the ground knew it was bullshit. The terms meant we stayed on our base for several days to allow these assholes to supposedly clear the IEDs that they had laid before without us shooting them. What they actually did was turn in three rusty antique rifles, like this treaty required, then used the time to reseed the area with two to three times what they laid previously. Then they told the farmers to get back out there and farm poppy to make them money to fight us with. So, when we went back out in January, there were no more firefights but way more IEDs. Which brings us to today.”

My replacement lifted his eyebrows and exhaled through pursed lips. IEDs are frankly terrifying. They are not what any of us signed up to fight. As long as a Marine has someone to shoot at, he is generally OK. Marines want to fight an enemy that wants to fight them. An IED kills without recourse beyond a medical evacuation and a hope that your legs are only gone below the knee. I could see his thoughts churning. Today was his patrol. In Marine lingo, he was in the left seat, the driver’s seat. I was in the right seat, as a passenger and tour guide to a pastoral paradise where poppies and IEDs were both planted in abundance. And he wanted to go through the golf course.

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Afghan interpreter Zainullah “Zak” Zaki in Sangin Province, Afghanistan, 2011.

I shook my head and said, “We shouldn’t go through that field, man.” He looked at me and I saw the certainty the Corps trains in its leaders. “I don’t want to set a pattern of always going through the village,” he said.

“Dude, we always go through the vil­lage because the assholes don’t put IEDs in the village.”

“Not today. We’re going through the golf course.”

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Schueman and his Marines visited with residents of Sangin during a patrol. From the left: Cpl Justin McLoud, Schueman, “Doc” Rashad Collins and LCpl Eric Rose.

There was not much to do but say “OK” and get my guys ready for the patrol.
A Marine leader is expected to be where he or she can best control the unit and affect events at the point of friction. When accompanying one of my squads, I usually patrolled in the first third of the patrol, usually as the third or fourth man. The patrol was a bit larger than normal since we were augmenting the newly arrived platoon. Thus, there were five Marines across the golf course when Sergeant Nikirk stepped onto the field and disappeared in a cloud of smoke and mud, accompanied by a loud “POP!”

When you see one of your Marines injured or killed by an IED, it is an im­potent feeling. Your enemy typically dis­appears long before they inflict actual damage upon you and your Marines. Unless they reveal themselves by firing at you, there is nothing to fight, but time as you try to stabilize a critically injured young man, convincing him to hold on through evacuation to the next level of care, and hope that you did not miss any­thing vital as you evaluated his injuries. I ran to Nikirk with Zak on my heels as always. There would be no need for him to interpret. He had simply become one of us over the months we spent together, and he was preparing to help me attempt to hold someone together as a Navy corpsman rendered lifesaving first aid.

But as the smoke cleared and the mud and dust settled from the air, I arrived at Nikirk’s side to see he was standing next to a partially ruptured, 40-pound jug of home­made explosive, much of it now dusted across his face. He was alive, per­ceptibly shaking from the experience of a low-order, partial detonation of am­mo­nium nitrate homemade explosive (HME) intended to sympathetically detonate a 105 mm howitzer shell right under his feet. The combination should have left Nikirk a pink vapor drifting in the air with the lingering smell of ammonia. But because the area had recently experienced a lot of rain and Taliban quality control was low, the IED pushed him aside, plastered his face in the ammonium nitrate and aluminum used to make the explosive, and exposed the artillery shell that would have left him nothing but a memory. Since we had barely left friendly lines, and it had become clear that Nikirk was largely unharmed, I called for explosive ordnance disposal (EOD) to come out and destroy the IED. After an hour, they arrived and confirmed that the IED should have meant the end of more than one of us. They also noted that the IED was triggered by a tripwire, the first we had seen of such. Typically, IEDs in Sangin were triggered by the victim’s weight pushing down a pressure plate, which completed an ignition circuit.

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Zaki in Kabul, July 2021.

Sgt Nikirk and Sgt Decker came to me and asked to return to base with EOD. I sent Nikirk back but told Decker he would have to remain. We needed his experience if things continued to go downhill. Sgt Decker looked at me, reminded me he had a son whom he had never met, and said, “This is bullshit, sir. These guys are going to get us killed.” Decker had never needed more than a direction and distance to and description of the thing I wanted attacked and destroyed. He was both courageous and cautious, a force of nature in combat. Now, for the first time in his life, Sgt Decker was ready to pack it in on a combat operation. I told Decker we were continuing on, then turned my attention to my incoming lieutenant counterpart and asked him his plan.

“We’re going to continue to push across the field.” Aggression aside, I was stunned.

“The only way we are going across that field,” I said, “is if you have the combat engineer back-clear from his position to us, then reclear it, since he had obviously missed at least one of the IEDs.”

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Schueman and Cpl Aguilar discuss security issues with Sangin residents.

Combat engineers accompanied us on most patrols and carried a metal-detecting sweeper intended to find IEDs and land mines. The incoming platoon commander gave the order.

We had been stationary for more than an hour as we dealt with Nikirk’s IED detonation, then EOD’s arrival and de­parture with Nikirk. That was way too long and now the Taliban certainly knew exactly where we were as the combat engineer began the exhaustive process of sweeping back across the flat, open ex­panse of the golf course from 500 meters away. He was halfway across the field, coming back to us, his sweeper ticking back and forth like a metronome, when the second IED blew. This time it was a complete detonation.

The combat engineer disappeared in the fire and mud and smoke. Before the debris had stopped falling, the Taliban unloaded on us with rifles, rocket-propelled gre­nades, and medium machine-gun fire. They knew someone had to go get the combat engineer. They knew there were more IEDs in the field. They wanted us moving around to hit them.

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Zaki and his family outside of Hamid Karzai International Airport, August 2021, as they made one of several attempts to get inside the gate in order to secure seats on a flight to the U.S.

With the incoming fire everyone hit the deck. You could tell the difference be­tween new guys and 3/5 Marines. The new guys were face-down in the dirt or neck-deep in an irrigation canal, rifles firing in no particular direction. Those of us on our last patrol were up on an arm, scanning for muzzle flashes and smoke. Painful experience told us we had to determine the source of the fire and put our own on them before they could hit one of us.

I was furious. This was our last patrol and after seven months, stupidity was going to kill us. I looked at Zak. All I could say was, “Son of a bitch! Can you believe this shit!?” He just shook his head in disbelief and said, “Lieutenant Tom, this is crazy.” Of course, Zak wasn’t leav­ing with us. He would stay here.

As I continued to scan for the enemy, out of the corner of my eye I saw Sgt Decker run onto the field toward the wounded combat engineer. The man who had asked me to let him return to PB Vegas, the one who reminded me he had never met the child he’d named Maximum Danger Decker, was running into the midst of an uncleared field planted with double digits’ worth of IEDs to retrieve a wounded Ma­rine he didn’t know. I thought about the fact that it was our last patrol, that I had, only moments before, denied Decker a chance to return to safety, and that I now assumed I would soon be living with the fact that I denied a dead man a chance to meet his child.

I screamed, “DECKER!!!” He kept mov­ing into the field. I screamed again, “SGT DECKER! STOP!” He looked back. I had no children.

“Come back here! You’re not going, I am!” I yelled.

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Zaki, the interpreter, pro­viding security in Sangin.

Decker started moving back to me. I looked at Zak and asked, “Are you ready to go?”

Of course, he was. Zak’s eyes were open a bit wider than normal, but he was always ready to go. Even when, as was the case now, there was no reason for an interpreter. I just needed an extra set of hands to save an American life. I looked at the canal we had to cross. It was frothing from the bullets striking the water’s sur­face, as if a tropical rainstorm had set down in Sangin, but only on the golf course. I looked at the rest of the patrol, spread out in single file and hugging the earth, looking at nothing, just spraying bullets everywhere in a death blossom.

Zak and I were the only people up. We made convenient targets for the Taliban machine gunners as we ran up the column, me screaming, “WHERE IS THE CORPSMAN!?!?” The guy tasked with providing lifesaving care should have been up and moving already.

I saw a hand go up, inches above the dirt, his face pressed into the mud. I grabbed the drag strap on the back of his body armor, yelling, “Follow me!”

Time slowed down. I was moving for­ward, dragging the corpsman into the field toward the combat engineer, the extent of whose wounds I still did not know. Zak pushed him from behind as we all winced against the incoming hail of steel. I was thinking about what we needed to do. Simultaneously I thought, “My last f—ing day! My last f—ing day! Best-case scenario, I am not leaving Sangin with my legs. Worst-case scenario, I’m gonna be turned into pink mist by a 105 shell.”

There are often absurdity and serious­ness in equal amount during combat. As we ran into the field, knowing that the first IED had been initiated by a tripwire, something we had never seen in Sangin, I was running like a football player doing high knee drills, trying to avoid additional tripwires. Every time my right foot struck the ground, I yelled, “Motherf—er!” like some absurdist running cadence.

For 250 meters it was, left foot, “Motherf—er!” left foot, “Motherf—er!” left foot, “Motherf—er!”

We reached the casualty, and I threw the corpsman at him so he could begin to do his job. Rain and the weight of the mud had again been our friend. The blast had thrown the combat engineer through the air, but the weight of the mud had tamped down the explosion. His major injury was an arm bone sticking out through his flesh, a relatively benign result.

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Schueman and Zaki were reunited in Minneapolis, Minn., in February 2022.

I had been carrying an M32 grenade launcher for two months simply because I wanted to use it in a firefight. Imagine the world’s most powerful revolver as a six-shot, rotary-magazine, 40 mm weapon. Now I had my chance. It seemed like the thing to do since I still expected to die recrossing the field. As the corpsman worked on the wounded Marine, I started slinging grenades.

With 40 mm explosions not to their liking, Taliban fire slackened to an accept­able level. The corpsman pronounced the combat engineer ready to move and we headed back across the field without hitting any more of the IEDs we knew were there.
I got back to the incoming lieutenant and hissed, “This patrol is over!”

“I guess I should have maybe listened to you on the route.” No shit.

I was a good kid. Never drunk in high school, never in trouble. I’d never had a cigarette in my life. My grandmother died of emphysema. We got back to PB Vegas, and my first words were “Who has a cigarette?”

I stood and smoked my first cigarette, a Camel Blue, with Zak and it was so, so good. I never coughed once.

Authors’ bios:

Maj Tom Schueman served in Helmand Province, Afghani­stan, as a platoon commander with 3rd Battal­ion, 5th Marines. He later redeployed to Afghanistan as a JTAC and advisor to the Afghan National Army while he was a member of the 1st Recon Bn. He later earned a master’s degree in literature. He is a graduate of Naval War College and is currently the ops officer with 3/5. He is the founder of the non-profit Patrol Base Abbate.

Zainullah “Zak” Zaki was raised by subsistence farmers in Afghanistan. He served as an interpreter for U.S. forces with the 3rd Bn, 5th Marines in Helmand Province beginning in 2010 and later worked for the U.S. government in Kunar Province. After more than six years battl­ing bureaucracy, with Maj Schueman as his advocate, Zak successfully immigrated to America with his family in 2021.

General David H. Berger

Commandant of the Marine Corps

Focusing on the Future of the Marine Corps

EGA

By Col Mary H. Reinwald, USMC (Ret)

The last few years have seen some significant changes in the Marine Corps, which has resulted in a Corps that is a bit different from the one that fought in Afghanistan and Iraq and significantly different from that which fought in Vietnam. A renewed emphasis on the Pacific, the growing cyber domain, and, of course, the somewhat controversial Force Design 2030 have been critical influences on the Marine Corps’ new direction, established by General David H. Berger, the 38th Commandant of the Marine Corps (CMC).

CMC Portrait Berger

The Corps of the Future

Gen Berger wasted no time in addressing the Corps of the future when he became Commandant in July 2019. “When I was privileged to take over as CMC, the next day, I published my planning guidance,” Gen Berger said in a recent interview with Leatherneck. Noting that his predecessor, Gen Robert B. Neller, had told Congress that the Corps wasn’t built for the future, Berger said simply, “I agree.”

When discussing the Corps of the future, he is clear in his messaging. “We have to be ready to adapt. As we move forward, we have to learn. We have to move faster than the adversary.” And the adversary often is China. “China is the pacing challenge … The rate at which China is modernizing, the strength of their economy … the advantages we enjoyed are eroding,” he said. “It’s on China because we have to stay in front of them capability wise … If we’re going to deter them, that’s the bar.”

In March 2020, Gen Berger’s vision was solidified with the publication of Force Design 2030, the plan to set the course for the future Marine Corps. “We cannot go slow, and we can’t get it wrong,” he said at a Marine Corps Association (MCA) dinner a few months later. “We have to go through a lot of change in the next … three to four years. It’s not going to be easy. It’s going to require us, I think, to modify a lot of our existing ideas of how we fight, how we organize.”

The general was more specific in the actual Force Design 2030 document: “The 2018 National Defense Strategy redirected the Marine Corps’ mission focus from countering violent extremists in the Middle East to great power/peer-level competition, with special emphasis on the Indo-Pacific. Such a profound shift in missions, from inland to littoral, and from non-state actor to peer competitor, necessarily requires substantial adjustments in how we organize, train, and equip our Corps. A return to our historic role in the maritime littoral will also demand greater integration with the Navy and a reaffirmation of that strategic partnership. As a consequence, we must transform our traditional models for organizing, training, and equipping the force to meet new desired ends, and do so in full partnership with the Navy.”

In a July 2022 interview with the Washington Post, Gen Berger provided more specifics saying, “We need a better mix of loitering munitions, rocket artillery, missiles and other systems, manned and unmanned.”

Two updates in April 2021 and May 2022 have further refined the direction of Force Design as it seems to be making the Corps lighter and more agile. Major General Ben Watson, the previous commander of the Marine Corps Warfighting Lab, described the goal of Force Design as developing “a balanced portfolio of capabilities so that when we are trying to close kill chains against a modern, multi-domain adversary, we’ve got a complete tool kit.”

The Commandant has won over some crucial constituencies with his plan. Defense Secretary Lloyd Austin and his predecessor, Mark T. Esper, have been “fully supportive,” according to the Commandant, “and, in fact, urge us to go faster.” Congress is also supportive. In a letter dated May 27, members of the Senate and House Committees on Defense expressed their support for Force Design 2030 stating in part, “Congress should fully support this effort and commend the Marine Corps for making difficult investment and divestment decisions of what to do and, more importantly, what not to do, in order to ensure U.S. advantage in strategic competition.”

Gen Berger at MCA Annual Meeting Gen Berger was the guest of honor at the Marine Corps Association’s annual meeting, Sept. 15 in Arlington, Va.

Discussion and Debate

Much has been made in various media outlets of retired general officers disagreeing with Force Design in outside forums. In an op-ed in the Washington Post on April 22, three retired four-star generals, Gen Charles “Chuck” Krulak, the 32nd Commandant of the Marine Corps; Gen Anthony Zinni, former Commander in Chief, U.S. Central Command; and Gen John “Jack” Sheehan, Supreme Allied Commander for NATO wrote, “It [Force Design] will make the Marines less capable of countering threats from unsettled and dangerous corners of the world.”

Gen Berger and SgtMaj Black present award The Commandant of the Marine Corps, Gen David H. Berger, and Sergeant Major of the Marine Corps, SgtMaj Troy Black, present Superior Achiever Awards to outstanding recruiters in San Antonio, Texas, Oct. 20, 2021.

Gen Berger made it clear at the annual meeting of the MCA in September that he is a strong proponent of discussion and debate and freely admits that he welcomes opposing opinions. Quoting the Marine Corps Gazette’s mission statement of “the free exchange of ideas, professional debate and discussion of issues of greatest importance to the Corps,” the Commandant said he believes that mission is as relevant today as when Gen Lejeune established the Gazette more than 100 years ago. “For me personally as Commandant, [the Gazette] over the past three years is where I go to for fresh thinking and it has been a trigger for my own curiosity,” he said. “Issues that are discussed in the pages of the Gazette have helped me shape my priorities as CMC … As important as it is for me to define the priorities of the Marine Corps, also a place for me to refine. This debate has helped me make adjustments.”

And while the disagreements have, on occasion, devolved into personal attacks, Gen Berger continues to welcome the discussion. “Think about the significance of our culture and the way that it tolerates, especially in the Marine Corps, debate. We don’t just tolerate it, we encourage it. And we like it. That’s how the best ideas get to the top.” The debate on Force Design is similar to the debate about Maneuver Warfare 40 years ago, according to Gen Berger. “In the 1980s, the debate on maneuver warfare; we vigorously ripped that apart and then put it back together. That was a true debate … For every advocate there was an opponent.”

He was quick to mention that he would be disappointed if everyone agreed with him on every topic. Noting that he reads opposing views in the Gazette, he said, “I don’t always agree with what everyone writes, but it makes me think.”

General Berger speaking at West Coast Dinner Gen Berger was the guest speaker at the MCA’s West Coast Dinner in 2015 while he was serving as the Commanding General, I MEF.

“I’m very proud that the Marine Corps has debate … Debate is healthy, it makes us stronger,” he added.

He also recognizes the contribution younger Marines can bring to debates and discussions of the challenges facing the Corps. “You can always count on a captain or a staff sergeant or a major to bring you what you don’t want to hear, but you have to think about it,” he said with a chuckle at the MCA annual meeting. He noted that Marines are especially good at keeping their leaders straight. “They help me think through things two, three, four levels down, and that is invaluable to our senior leaders today.”

Berger with retired generals The MCA’s annual meeting on Sept. 15 provided an opportunity for the Commandant to reunite with retired senior officials including SES Bryan Wood, LtGen Robert Ruark and LtGen David “Smoke” Beydler.

Background

A native of Woodbine, Md., the future commandant attended Tulane University on a Naval Reserve Officer Training Corps (NROTC) scholarship. He was initially a Navy option midshipman destined for commissioning as an ensign, but thanks to the example set by the unit’s Assistant Marine Officer Instructor in his early days with the NROTC unit, Midshipman Berger changed his mind and realized that he wanted to be a Marine. Two of his sons have followed in his footsteps. One son is an infantry officer currently assigned to recruiting duty while the other is a veteran Marine noncommissioned officer who also served in the infantry. Both sons saw combat in Afghanistan. It is no surprise that when asked what his best day in the Corps was, the Commandant was quick to respond. “I have two. One was at Parris Island when my son became a Marine and the other was at Quantico when I commissioned my other son.”

Few officers have ever been as experienced and well-prepared to assume the role of the Corps’ senior leader as Gen Berger. A veteran of Operations Iraqi Freedom and Enduring Freedom where he commanded Regimental Combat Team 8 in Fallujah, Iraq and 1st Marine Division (Forward) in Afghanistan respectively, he has proven himself in combat. In addition, his Recon Company participated in Operation Desert Shield, and he commanded 3rd Battalion, 8th Marines during its deployment to Haiti in support of Operation Secure Tomorrow. He also led I Marine Expeditionary Force and Marine Forces Pacific as a three star.

Marines Patrol Haiti Marines from 3/8, commanded by Col David Berger, patrol the streets of Port-au-Prince, Haiti, during Operation Secure Tomorrow April 14, 2004.

His staff assignments have also played a significant role in his development and knowledge of the threats facing our nation. As a field grade officer, Gen Berger served as a policy planner in the J-5 and later assumed the duties as Chief of Staff for Kosovo Force Headquarters. His assignments as Director of Operations in Plans, Policies and Operations at Headquarters Marine Corps and as the Deputy Commandant for Combat Development and Integration ensured that the future commandant understood and was well-prepared for the complexities of manning, training and equipping the Corps.

Gen Berger is also quick to acknowledge those who have helped him along the way. When asked who his mentors have been, the Commandant quickly answered, “My father. He was both a cheerleader and mentor.” He also listed LtGen Emil “Buck” Bedard, former Deputy Commandant for Plans, Policies and Operations, and Admiral Scott Swift, who commanded U.S. Pacific Fleet when Gen Berger commanded Marine Forces Pacific. Two other retired Marine generals who were his classmates at the School of Advanced Warfighting when all three were majors, Lieutenant Generals Vince Stewart and Michael Dana, are two mentors and confidants in the Commandant’s inner circle. “You need friends who will honestly tell you what they think.”

Gen Joe Dunford, the 36th Commandant and 19th Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, is another of the Gen Berger’s mentors, which will come as no surprise to the Marine Corps community. Gen Berger said that Gen Dunford gave him especially good advice when he assumed the duties of Commandant, reminding him that his duties as a joint chief and advisor to the president were equally important to leading the service.

Berger with Bradney MajGen Berger, left, the commanding general of Task Force Leatherneck, walks with LtCol David P. Bradney, commanding officer of 1/7, at FOB Shamsher, Helmand Province, Afghanistan, Aug. 9, 2012. (Photo by LCpl Jason Morrison, USMC)

The Corps of the Future

Gen Berger’s reserved often quiet demeanor can be a bit misleading. His passion for the Corps and more importantly, his Marines, however, is unmistakable and especially evident when asked what keeps him up at night. His answer was all about Marines. “What did you fail to do? What did you mean to do but didn’t get done?”

“It’s always about the people,” Gen Berger added.

In November 2021 Gen Berger released Talent Management 2030, his strategic guidance which called for a fundamental change to the current personnel system. “We are a people-centric organization. That is at the core, the center of the Marine Corps.” Talent Management 2030 describes his thoughts even more clearly. “Transitioning to a talent management system will enable us to better harness and develop the unique skills and strengths of our Marines, improve the performance of our units in competition and combat, and ensure that we remain ‘most ready when the Nation is least ready.’ ” His prioritization on Talent Management is based on supporting individual Marines. His goals include empowering lower headquarters to make decisions on their Marines’ futures to include giving commanding officers reenlistment authorities. All with the goal of “giving them [Marines] the ability to make decisions sooner in their careers.”

Berger and Dunford CJCS Gen Joseph F. Dunford promoted the new CMC, Gen David H. Berger, at the Home of the Commandants, Washington D.C., July 11, 2019.

The previous Deputy Commandant for Manpower and Reserve Affairs, LtGen David Ottignon, discussed the Commandant’s Talent Management initiatives at a recent MCA luncheon. “It is a rebalance between the Marine and the Marine Corps.” He echoed the Commandant’s intentions further. “We do need to think about how we are transparent with Marines as we find those talented individuals, manage that talent and deliver to the organization.”

And much of the Talent Management guidance starts with recruiting. Recent years have seen increased challenges in finding young men and women to join the Corps as the numbers of Americans qualified to enlist continues to trend downward. The COVID-19 pandemic alone drastically changed the way our recruiting force interacted with potential future Marines as high schools were closed and personal interactions were severely limited. With the shrinking number of qualified potential applicants and an increasingly challenging job market, the Commandant said he believes recruiters will continue to accomplish the mission while maintaining the Corps’ current qualifications. When asked if he would lower the standards to help fill the ranks, Gen Berger was blunt. “No.”

He also knows that the focus can’t simply be on recruiting. “We have to retain Marines that we have spent so much on recruiting and training,” he said. “If we lose them after we got have got them highly trained … they’ll be watching from the bleachers.”

Berger Taskforce Leatherneck MajGen Berger, second from right, CG, TF Leatherneck, stands watch with Marines from “Fox” Co, 2/7 at FOB Now Zad, Helmand Province, Afghanistan, Nov. 22, 2012.

Veterans

As Gen Berger completes his 41st year of service, knowing his days in uniform are limited, he has an enhanced appreciation for those who have gone before him. At the recent Marine Corps Association annual meeting he paid tribute to three of the Corps’ icons. “It was a tough summer in one respect for Marines. We lost three giants. Woody Williams, SgtMaj Canley and Butch Neal. Three giants in our history … They are a big part of our Marine Corps story. When you think about the lives of those three, they are a good reminder how much we owe our veterans,” he said.

“Once a Marine, always a Marine is not just a bumper sticker,” Gen Berger said. “We don’t take them [veterans] for granted. I have even more come to value their service, the contributions, the coaching, the teaching, the mentoring of our Marine veterans.” He has often mentioned his appreciation for veteran Marines and their contributions to the Corps.

“The veterans—I need you. The Marine Corps needs you. We need your involvement. Not from the bleachers—be in the scrum. Right in the chaotic mess of where the Marine Corps needs to go. I need you to stay involved. I value your opinions.”

The Marine Corps of the future hasn’t turned its back on the Corps of the past; rather it has evolved to meet modern challenges by standing on the shoulders of those who served before. Honoring the Marine Corps’ past while ensuring its future success is especially important to the Commandant, and as his first three years have shown, he is committed to the task.

Gen Berger at "Woody" Williams memorial service Gen Berger, far right, CMC, salutes as the American flag is folded during the West Virginia State Memorial Service for Medal of Honor recipient CWO-4 Hershel “Woody” Williams in Charleston, W.Va., July 3.

Sea Stories

Compiled by Patricia Everett

Sea Story of the Month: Barnum & Bailey Circus Had New Meaning

In 1971 at Officer Candidates School in Quantico, Va., Staff Sergeant Tallent marched our platoon very close to the nearby train tracks. We were stretched out so that we were one long line that ran parallel to the tracks just a few feet in front of us. He had us stand at parade rest facing the tracks. With a scowl on his face, he impatiently looked at his watch. We were bewildered until we heard an oncoming train, and he started to smile. He ordered us to stand at attention and within seconds a very long Barnum & Bailey Circus train, adorned with colorful animal and circus themes, came rumbling by. We could feel the “whoosh” of the air as the train sped by and we sensed SSgt Tallent watching us closely. He was itching to nail someone if we didn’t remain at attention with our eyes directed straight ahead.

We never broke rank, and we could tell by the look on his face that he was disappointed that he didn’t have the opportunity to unload some of his colorful and imaginative profanities on one or more of us. After the train passed, he gave us an order. That night we were to write a letter to our parents and tell them that our wonderful drill instructor had taken us to see the circus. That was his idea of being funny and playing with our minds at the same time.

Capt Bob Canepa
USMC, 1971-1974
Mill Valley, Calif.


Lucky Strike Cigarettes Came in Handy

A few of us airdales were assigned to A-4D school at MCAS El Toro, Calif., in May 1961 before shipping out to Kaneohe Bay, Hawaii. A friend, Phil L., and I were walking fire watch one night after lights out. A bunch of the wild ones just back from liberty in Tijuana came staggering into the squad bay causing a heck of a row. One guy had his arm in a sling, and another had a bandage wrapped around his head. Phil asked them to kindly keep it down which drew their ire, so they chased him out into the street.

I had a brainstorm. I got the aluminum foil out of my pack of Lucky Strike cigarettes and folded it into two silver bars and tacked them on my shoulders. I marched back in and loudly asked Phil which of these s—heads were making trouble. Phil responded, “Over here, Lieutenant” at which time there was calm in the barracks as the perps crept under their blankets and I walked up and down the barracks like the newly commissioned officer I had just become.

Norm Spilleth
USMC, 1960-1964
Minneapolis, Minn


Seabag Nightmare

I was serving on Okinawa in 1958 and was due to rotate back to the States when I got a letter from a buddy who had left the month before. He was happy, except for the nightmare of retrieving his seabag from the nearly 4,500 bags piled on the parade deck at Treasure Island. He said it took more than three hours for him and even longer for others to find their bags. I wasn’t looking forward to that experience.

The next month I rotated back to the States. While we were at processing and having breakfast at Treasure Island, our seabags followed from our ship and were laid out in neat groups of four. It was a dark green canvas nightmare for all of us except for one Marine who confidently walked over to the only seabag that had its bottom painted white.

William Ranger Clark
Natick, Mass.


Baked Beans Don’t Mix With Ambushes

I was a squad leader for Weapons Platoon, H/2/9 in early 1966 in Vietnam. My company had just come out of the “hills” area northwest of Da Nang on various search and sweep operations. The normal procedure was to go back to our battalion base camp to take care of equipment needing repairs or replacement and to get replacement grunts for our infantry platoons.

Some of us were sent to other “in the rear” details for those few days versus back at the battalion area. On this occasion my weapons platoon sent two gun and rocket teams to secure and protect an old railroad bridge crossing a river that was being used as a road for supplies between Da Nang Air Base and our outlying battalion areas. Compared to mountains and rice paddies and eating C-rations for weeks on end, this was a real break in our daily routine of being shot at and seeing booby traps everywhere.

A special highlight was mail call. One day I received a large box from my wife and mom back home in Jersey. After tearing open the box I found an institutional-sized can of Van Camp’s pork and beans. It had to have been a 100-oz. can.

My buddy “Bugs” and I got a local motor pool guy driving down to Da Nang to get us a case of Hires root beer. That day Bugs and I ate the whole can of beans and drank a case of root beer. It was the highlight of my tour in Vietnam.

Later that night when we had to send out our ambush teams around the bridge/river area, Bugs and I had to stay in the rear since our “ambush sound discipline” was out of control. Bugs and I still laugh about how we ate that entire can of beans and all the noise it created in our bunker that night.

Cpl Ed Hark, USMC (Ret)
Georgetown, Texas


A Marine Corps Tradition

On the morning of June 16, 1956, I was one of 13 NROTC midshipmen who walked out of Hill Auditorium at the University of Michigan and received our initial salutes as newly commissioned second lieutenants in the Marine Corps. In our left hands we each clutched a one-dollar bill which we extended to the Marine staff noncommissioned officer (SNCO) who had initiated the salute. This was in compliance with information we had previously received concerning a “hallowed Marine Corps tradition.” The source of this information remains vague in my memory bank, but I suspect it was our aforementioned NROTC Marine SNCO instructor.

We didn’t question the veracity of this information. If it wasn’t a tradition it seemed to us that it should be, and we were pleased to be part of it. I’m certain the SNCO was equally pleased to be the recipient of $13—equivalent to $140 in 2022. I don’t recall if the newly minted Navy ensigns also participated in a similar tradition, but I later learned that it was, in fact, a tradition in all U.S. services. The tradition specified a silver dollar, but these were not easily acquired in 1956. In today’s world a silver dollar from the U.S. mint would cost a minimum of $64.

Col R.H. Stableford, USMC (Ret)
Dumfries, Va.


No Purple Heart

During my first tour in Vietnam in 1966, I was a private first class in Chu Lai. Most of us non-rates were assigned to head detail. Our duties were to burn the outside heads each morning. It wasn’t pleasant, but someone had to do it.

There were two types of heads. The basic was a two-hole sit-down type, which was positioned over a 6-foot hole. There were several outhouses on our hill, and we had a mechanical mule provided to us for the transport of the gas cans. The method of burning was to tip over the outhouse, expose the hole, pour a mixture of gas and diesel into the hole, step back and throw a match. There were also deluxe model heads that were three-seaters with 55-gallon drums as the bottom portion. In the rear of the outhouse were three doors that opened, and the cut-off drums were pulled out and burned.

One day we had a new private assigned. He was instructed on how to burn the outhouses. Initially, he was doing well, but about an hour into the detail he made a mistake. He tipped over a two-seater then lifted a can of gas and diesel mixture and poured it down the hole. He then stepped back, lit the match, and threw it. The match did not ignite the hole. He then picked up another can of fuel, went to the hole, looked down and started to pour the fuel when a huge explosion erupted. He took the brunt of the blast but was still maneuvering around. His body was smoking, and his eyelashes and brows were about gone. He had skin sagging from his face and his eyes looked like large saucers. I know it’s not funny, but he looked like Wile E. Coyote after the Roadrunner did him harm.

He was walked to sickbay and then flown to the Philippines for treatment. He stayed there for a couple of months then returned for duty. He received a few scars but was very lucky. No Purple Heart was awarded.

CWO-3 Jack Wing, USMC (Ret)
Apopka, Fla


A Memorable Event

I was at Marine Corps Air Station Kaneohe Bay, Hawaii, in the early part of 1961. I was assigned to the comm section of “Hotel” Battery, 3rd Battalion, 12th Marines as a field radio operator and wireman. I had not been off base for about six months because I had had my liberty card pulled for a minor infraction and I was too stubborn to ask for it back. I spent all my free time working out at the battalion gym, lifting weights, and punching a bag. These activities resulted in my being in pretty good physical condition.

The battalion decided to have a pugil stick competition and divided all the men into three groups: heavyweight, middleweight, and lightweight. I was put into the middleweight group.

The competition consisted of timed one-minute bouts with all “killing” blows counting to determine the score and whomever got the most hits won the bout. The participants wore helmets with face masks, body protection and boxing gloves.

After several bouts, I was fortunate to win the middleweight division. I was then pitted against the winner of the lightweight division and won. Between bouts, I practiced the slash, butt stroke, and jab techniques used in bayonet fighting. Then they put me up against the winner of the heavyweight division.

I squared off with this seemingly giant Marine. Thinking that I must do something quick before he bowled me over with his sheer size and weight, I quickly went to high port and jabbed him three times in the face mask before he knocked me over. I was laying there with my pugil stick pinned behind my back and he was standing over me ready to pile drive his stick into me when I lunged out with my right foot and kicked his pugil stick out of his grip. It went sailing, and by the time he recovered it and we squared off again, the whistle blew. I had won because I had been the only one to score any blows.

The battery picked me up and paraded me around in celebration, and I was awarded three days liberty for my efforts. I picked up my payday poker winnings from the company safe that I had been saving and enjoyed five days liberty including a weekend at Waikiki Beach, learning to surf.

Cpl Francis J. Flaga
USMC, 1958-1964
Guthrie, Okla.


Do you have an interesting story from your time in the Corps that will give our readers a good chuckle? We would love to hear them. Write them down (500 words or less) and send them to: Patricia Everett, Leatherneck Magazine, P.O. Box 1775, Quantico, VA 22134, or email them to p.everett@mca-marines.org. We offer $25 or a one-year MCA membership for the “Sea Story of the Month.”

“We Came in Peace”

Beirut Marines Find a Voice in Forthcoming Documentary Film

By Sara W. Bock
When Greg Wah shops for Marine Corps-related souvenirs or mementos, he never seems to have any trouble finding items specific to those who served in World War II, Viet­nam, Iraq, or Afghanistan. But con­spicuous­ly absent from the typical lineup of offerings, he says, is a part of the Corps’ history that many seem to have forgotten, but he can’t go a day without remembering: Beirut, Lebanon.

The veteran Marine recalls having just celebrated his 18th birthday—“I was still wet behind the ears,” he quips—when the 24th Marine Amphibious Unit (MAU), with Battalion Landing Team (BLT) 1st Battal­ion, 8th Marine Regiment as its landing force, was ordered to replace the 22nd MAU in war-torn Lebanon after the April 1983 bombing of the U.S. Embassy in Beirut. As the year went on, complex and long-festering hostilities among warring factions and militias led to an influx of small arms, rocket and mortar fire spe­cifically targeting the Marines, who as members of a multinational peacekeeping force were not permitted to adequately defend themselves. America may not have officially been at war, but the reality on the ground told a vastly different story. According to a 2003 article in DAV Magazine, by Oct. 22, the eve of one of the most tragic events in Marine Corps history, seven Marines had already been killed and 64 wounded by enemy fire.

Wah, who says that only in recent years has he begun to process the trauma he experienced in Beirut, is not alone in his sentiments when he expresses frustration about the manner in which the entire mission was handled. In his words, “the whole thing has been swept under the rug.”
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Director and filmmaker Michael Ivey, left, interviews retired Marine MajGen James Lariviere about his experiences as a young first lieutenant in Beirut, where he served as a reconnaissance platoon commander with 3rd Bn, 8th Marines. Scheduled for release in October 2023, “We Came in Peace” allows those who were there to tell the “boots-on-the-ground truth.”

Still in production, “We Came in Peace” is expected to premiere next year on the 40th anniversary of the Oct. 23, 1983, suicide bombing that decimated the four-story reinforced concrete BLT 1/8 head­quarters building in Beirut and killed 241 Americans—220 of them U.S. Marines. The date would go down in history as the Corps’ deadliest since the Battle of Iwo Jima in 1945.

The film is a labor of love for Ivey, as well as for Elisa Camara, one of its pro­ducers, who at just 17 years old received the news that her beloved older brother, Sergeant Mecot Camara, USMC, was among those killed in the devastating blast. After she wrote the 2013 book, “American Brother,” in which she told the heartfelt story of Mecot’s upbringing in rural West Virginia, his service in the Marine Corps, and his tragic death, Camara began attending the annual Beirut Memorial Observance Ceremony at Marine Corps Base Camp Lejeune, N.C., held each October, and became closely acquainted with many of the Marines who had served along­side him. There, she found herself part of a “family” bonded by tragedy.

“They were just so embracing of my heartache, and they have their own heartache too,” Camara said with emotion in her voice. “They said, ‘You lost your brother, but you gained a platoon of brothers who will always be there for you.’ ” It came as no surprise, then, that when Dan Brown, who served in Beirut, approached Camara after a 2019 Memorial Day gathering of Beirut Marines and family members in Washington, D.C., and asked for help, she was de­ter­mined not to let him down. His request was straightforward: “Can you help us tell our story, so we’re not forgotten?”
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Marine veteran Greg Wah, who served with Co A, 1/8, 24th MAU, is one of the Beirut Marines who shared his story during the production of “We Came in Peace.” (Photo courtesy of Michael Ivey)

That conversation was the impetus for “We Came in Peace,” but it certainly didn’t happen overnight. Camara had pre­viously thought about trying to get a documentary made about the Beirut Marines, but she had no idea where to begin. And then there was the issue of funding. When she’d in­quired with a Los Angeles-based producer, the cost—$500,000 up front—was insurmountable. As fate would have it, a mutual friend connected Camara with Ivey, who also is a West Virginia native and was already familiar with Mecot’s story. A member of the Director’s Guild of America and former com­mentator on National Pub­lic Radio’s long running “All Things Considered,” Ivey had recently made a commitment to creating what he refers to as “work that matters,” when the story of the Beirut Marines fell into his lap.

“I feel like the angels are behind this one, and it all starts with Elisa and her brother,” said Ivey, adding that he con­siders it an honor and a privilege to lev­erage his experience as a storyteller to make the film the Beirut Marines and their families deserve.

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Mecot Camara’s sister, Elisa Camara, speaks to attendees at the 31st annual Beirut Memorial Observance Ceremony in Jacksonville, N.C., Oct. 23, 2014. Her conversation with a Beirut survivor was the impetus for “We Came in Peace.”

Lacking the funding to get the project started, Camara first set out to create a 501(c)(3) nonprofit organization, the American Brother Foundation, that both honors Mecot Camara’s life and funds the production of the film. Up to this point, “We Came in Peace” has been made possible solely through private donations. Ivey has avoided soliciting completion money from networks, who generally exert a heavy influence over the production process, because he’s determined to keep his promise to let the Marines tell the story themselves. Instead, as donations have trickled in, Ivey has traveled around the country to conduct on-camera interviews, the first of which took place in February 2021. As of late July, he’s collected the stories of 45 different individuals, including General Alfred M. Gray, USMC (Ret), who served as the commanding general of 2nd Marine Division at the time of the Beirut bombing and later as the 29th Commandant of the Marine Corps; retired Colonel Timothy J. Geraghty, who commanded the 24th MAU and the U.S. Multinational Peacekeeping Force; and Lieutenant Colonel Larry Gerlach, the commanding officer of BLT 1/8 who survived the bombing of the headquarters.

For Greg Wah, sharing his story on camera brought back a barrage of mem­ories he had long suppressed.

“I think this documentary is going to bring a lot of healing because a lot of the Marines have done the same thing that I have done,” said Wah, who was shot in the leg on his very last day in Beirut, Nov. 7, 1983, just two weeks after the bombing. “When I got out of the Corps, I didn’t talk to anybody about my experience, not even with my own family […] It was bottled—put in a bottle never to be opened.”

Retired Gunnery Sergeant Danny Joy, a friend of Mecot Camara’s who served with Weapons Company, 1/8, is thankful that he and his fellow Beirut veterans finally have been given an opportunity to tell their story. “No one has ever asked us,” he said with a tinge of sadness in his voice. But while he’s appreciative, that doesn’t mean it’s an easy topic for him to talk about, especially around the anniversary of the bombing each year.

“Every year it comes around and it’s like picking a scab off this wound, and now I’m opening the wound up again. It’s emotional, and really, it’s tough,” said Joy, who describes the survivor’s guilt he and others who made it home continue to struggle with decades later. “There’s certain things you saw that you can’t ever unsee.”

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Retired Marine GySgt Danny Joy, who was a corporal serving in Dragon Plt, Weapons Co, 1/8 in Beirut, is one of the 45 individuals who have been interviewed for the documentary thus far. (Photo courtesy of Michael Ivey)

The film, which has received the en­dorse­ment of the fraternal organization Beirut Veterans of America, is devoid of the narration and reenactments that are common within the documentary genre. With neither scripted voiceovers nor actors, both Camara and Ivey insist that the film lives up to its claim of telling the “boots-on-the-ground truth” as told by those who were there.

“We’re not doing some revisionist piece,” Ivey said emphatically.

Camara considers those who have participated by sharing their stories to be collaborators in the project, and notes that the major contributors to the funding of the film thus far have been Beirut veterans themselves.

“It’s deeply personal to everyone in­volved, […] and it’s not an easy story to share,” said Camara. “We want to share it for history, but we also want to share it to honor the ones that didn’t come home, and the ones that live with it every day.”

For Camara, a highlight of the entire experience came when she had the opportunity to accompany Ivey to the home of Gen Gray to film his on-camera interview.

“He [Gen Gray] was wonderful, and the last thing I said before we went out was, ‘I can assure you that this will be done with grace and dignity or we will not do it at all, Sir. I can promise you that,’ ” she recounted. “And he looked at me and he pointed his finger at me and said, ‘I am holding you to that, young lady!’ ”

It’s a commitment she takes seriously. So much so, that last October, in concur­rence with the annual observance cere­mony in Camp Lejeune, they held a private screening of the six-minute trailer and asked for feedback and suggestions from the Marines and Gold Star family members in attendance.

The trailer, which can be viewed on the documentary’s website, is a high-quality sample of the hours of interviews Ivey has conducted to date, featuring honest, raw and emotional accounts that invite the viewer to think critically about an important and often-overlooked moment in America’s history.

“It’s time, especially with what’s going on in the world right now,” Camara said. It’s her hope that future generations of Americans will not only know what happened in Beirut, but also will learn valuable lessons that may help prevent history from repeating itself.

There are still Beirut Marines left to interview for the film, and Ivey also aims to secure funding that will allow him to interview diplomats, journalists, and other international peacekeepers—namely, Italians and French—who also supported the multinational effort. The film also will detail the concurrent suicide bombing of the French Paratrooper Detachment in Beirut on Oct. 23, which killed 58 French servicemembers. He hopes that adding additional perspectives will “broaden the circle” and provide an even greater context for viewers to consider.

For retired Marine Gunnery Sergeant Don Inns, a Beirut veteran who served with Mecot Camara in “Charlie” Co, BLT 1/8, the recent loss of three members of his old platoon in a span of only five weeks served as a reminder of the importance of telling this story sooner rather than later.

“Sadly, they took their stories to the grave nearly four decades after Beirut,” said Inns. “This documentary is our last best hope of illuminating the cause and cost of our country’s entanglement in Lebanon […] Supporting it is the least we can do in remembrance of those that sacrificed the most. It is also the best investment we can make for future generations of Marines, as what’s past is prologue.”
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According to Camara, the film will be pitched to Netflix and other streaming platforms, and premieres are anticipated to take place in October 2023 both at Camp Lejeune and in West Virginia. It’s Ivey’s hope that their efforts will help shed light on what really happened in Beirut nearly 40 years ago. “Maybe we can do something to make it right, learn the lessons, recognize the people that were there, recognize that it was an undeclared war, and it can effect positive change,” Ivey said. But most of all, he emphasizes, he’s doing it for those who served and sacrificed there. “They live with this every single day,” he added.

According to Camara, the film will be pitched to Netflix and other streaming platforms, and premieres are anticipated to take place in October 2023 both at Camp Lejeune and in West Virginia.

It’s Ivey’s hope that their efforts will help shed light on what really happened in Beirut nearly 40 years ago.

“Maybe we can do something to make it right, learn the lessons, recognize the people that were there, recognize that it was an undeclared war, and it can effect positive change,” Ivey said. But most of all, he emphasizes, he’s doing it for those who served and sacrificed there. “They live with this every single day,” he added.

Grenada, 1983 Operation Urgent Fury

By Capt Michael A. Hanson, USMC

Two CH-46 Sea Knight helicopters are parked aboard the amphibious assault ship USS Guam (LPH-9) during Operation Urgent Fury in October 1983.

The 133-square-mile island of Grenada became embroiled in tur­moil just five years after gaining independence from Great Britain. In 1979, Maurice Bishop and the Joint Endeavor for Welfare, Education, and Liberation, seized power in a coup following the un­popular rule of Prime Minister Sir Eric Gairy. The new order sidelined the island’s representative to the British Monarchy, Governor-General Sir Paul Scoon, while diminishing Grenada’s democratic foun­da­tions and exchanging them with Marxist institutions. Bishop cracked down on critical forms of media, canceled elections and annulled the constitution, thus solidi­fy­ing his role as dictator. The United States became alarmed as he increasingly steered Grenada toward alignment with the Communist Bloc by signing arms and trade deals with the Soviet Union and other communist countries.

Despite its veneer, Bishop’s regime was marred by a power struggle that resulted in a coup against him by hardliners in the Grenadian Communist Central Commit­tee. On Oct. 12, 1983, Bishop was put under house arrest by Bernard Coard, his deputy prime minister. Bishop’s confine­ment was short-lived, however, and after only a week he was freed by a crowd of 3,000 supporters. With his cohorts, he marched on Grenadian army headquarters at Fort Rupert to reassert his authority. Armored personnel carriers and troops under General Hudson Austin, the com­mander in chief of the Grenadian Armed Forces, opened fire on the crowd, killing around 40 people and he took Bishop prisoner once again. Rather than detain him, the troops executed Bishop along with other civic leaders who remained loyal to him.
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Jason Monroe

In response to the failed counter-coup, General Austin abolished the government and assumed authority of the country as head of a Revolutionary Military Council. With the Iranian hostage crisis fresh in their minds, senior American officials worried about the welfare of American citizens in Grenada, specifically, 600 American students at St. George’s School of Medicine.

On Oct. 17, the United States’ Re­gion­al Interagency Group (RIG) of the National Security Council (NSC) requested the military begin planning to evacuate the American citizens from Grenada. The RIG met again on Oct. 19 and recognizing the threat of several hundred armed Cubans on Grenada, recommended to the Joint Chiefs of Staff (JCS) to plan for a worst-case situation—an evacuation against armed resistance from Grenadian and Cuban military forces. Later that night the JCS ordered planners to “sub­mit alternative courses of action for a three- to five-day noncom­batant evacuation operation to include one or more of the following options: seizure of evacuation points, show of force, combat operations to defend the evacuation, and post evacuation peace­keeping.” As plans began to be devised, forces began to be allocated for the operation.
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Marines patrol in the town of Grenville on the island of Grenada during Operation Urgent Fury.

Late on the night of Oct. 20, the 22nd Marine Amphibious Unit (MAU) consist­ing of 2nd Battalion, 8th Marine Regiment (2/8), Marine Medium Helicopter Squad­ron (HMM) 261, and MAU Service Sup­port Group 22 embarked aboard the ships USS Guam (LPH-9), USS Trenton (LPH-14), USS Fort Snelling (LSD-30), USS Manitowoc (LST-1180), and USS Barn­stable County (LST-1197) received orders to change course and head for the Carib­bean Sea. The 22nd MAU had deployed from Morehead City, N.C. only two days before for a peacekeeping mission in Beirut, Lebanon. At 10 p.m. on Oct. 22, the MAU was ordered to make for Grenada. In addition, the USS Independence Battle Group, also on its way to the Mediterranean, changed course as well. Twenty-one American warships carrying 2,000 Marines steamed toward Grenada.

American intelligence agencies esti­mated 1,500 Grenadian People’s Rev­olution­ary Army (PRA) soldiers, 3,000 Grenadian militia, 400 police, as well as several hundred Cuban troops to be on the island. Though this was primarily a light infantry force, it did possess six BTR-60 armored personnel carriers, four ZU-23 23 mm antiaircraft guns, and several 12.7 mm anti-aircraft guns with well-trained crewmen. Intelligence analysts concluded these forces were capable of offering stiff defense on the small island.
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Point Salines Airport during the multiservice, multinational Operation Urgent Fury.

These estimates necessitated changes to the operational plan. “Given the un­certain­ty, the JCS determined that a military operation should be a coup de main … a surprise attack with overwhelm­ing force. While catching the enemy off guard, such an operation could perform rescue missions and seize key military targets vital to the enemy’s command and control of defensive operations.” However, the forces organic to the MAU would not be enough to conduct an operation of this scope alone and the operation was ex­panded to include rapidly deployable forces from the U.S. Army. Special Operations Forces, 22nd MAU, and two Army Ranger battalions would form the forces used to seize key terrain and evacuate the Ameri­can citizens while elements of the 82nd Airborne Division arrived immediately in transport aircraft to assume control of the island and conduct peace-keeping operations.

As the 22nd MAU approached Grenada, its Marines devised plans for the non­combatant evacuation operation. The Marines were tasked to take Pearls Air­port and its nearby town of Grenville up north. Oct. 25 was designated D-day and H-hour was set for 5 a.m., little more than 24 hours away.
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Marines aboard a CH-46 Sea Knight heli­copter during Operation Urgent Fury in October 1983.

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Marines examine equipment inside an abandoned building during Operation Urgent Fury on the island of Grenada in October 1983.

The Marines planned to land at dawn in a simultaneous operation using heli­copters and amphibious vehicles. Hours before the assault was to begin, Navy SEALs performed reconnaissance of the beaches near the airport. Judging the surf conditions, the SEALs reported that, “amphibious tractors might land with great difficulty and other landing craft not at all.” In fact, the seas were so rough that a SEAL team was lost at sea. The amphibious assault was postponed, and landing plans adapted for an assault on Pearls Airport and Grenville by two rifle companies flown in by helicopter.

Shortly before sunrise on Oct. 25, 1983, Marines landed on Grenada. CH-46 Sea Knight transports, escorted by AH-1 Cobra attack helicopters, achieved surprise. The initial wave landed unopposed as the men of Company E, 2/8 quickly secured their landing zone and prepared to move onto their objective, Pearls Airport. Two Grenadian 12.7 mm antiaircraft guns located in the hills above the landing zone fired on a successive wave of helicopters but were immediately dispensed with by 20 mm canon fire and 2.75-inch rockets of the AH-1 escorts. By 7:30 a.m. Pearls Airport was under the control of Company E after a quick engagement between the Marines and Grenadians guarding the airstrip. The Grenadians fired on the Ma­rines breaking through a chain link fence and bolted as soon as the Marines returned fire. Shortly afterwards, the Marines captured two 12.7 mm antiaircraft guns and a weapons cache in the hills nearby. The Grenadians manning the position did not resist; instead, they ran off into the countryside.

Immediately after inserting Company E, the helicopters returned to USS Guam to bring in Company F for the seizure of Grenville. Company F landed unopposed and by 6:30 a.m., secured Grenville. The Marines received a hearty welcome from the Grenadian people, who, “Far from regarding them as invaders, welcomed them as liberators from the rule of Hudson’s military council, which many Grenadians were describing as a gang of criminals and thugs.” Citizens assisted the Marines in identifying Grenadian troops that had shed their uniforms and sought to blend into the civilian popula­tion. They took the Marines to weapons caches and provided intelligence.
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A Marine CH-46 Sea Knight helicopter from HMM-261 “Raging Bulls” was shot down by antiaircraft fire on Oct. 25, 1983, during Operation Urgent Fury.

Meanwhile, events had not gone accord­ing to plan on the southern part of the island. Delays caused the Rangers to para­chute onto Salines Airport in broad day­light under significant groundfire from Grenadian antiaircraft units. The Rangers landed, scattered, and took casualties from Cubans defending the airfield. How­ever, the two Ranger companies overcame this resistance and accomplished their mission of seizing the airport, capturing 250 Cubans and enabling two battalions from the 82nd Airborne to land within 30 minutes. Furthermore, within just a few hours, the Rangers evacuated 138 Ameri­can students from St. George’s University Medical School’s True Blue campus which was close to the airport. Unfortunately, the Rangers learned that more than 200 Americans were at a school annex in Grand Anse.
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Marines aboard an LVTP 7 tracked landing vehicle after arriving near the town of Saint Georges, Grenada, during Operation Urgent Fury.

As the Rangers fought for control of the Salines area, Marine AH-1 Cobras were dispatched to provide close air sup­port to them. Under direction from Army forward air controllers, the gunships en­gaged Grenadian forces inside Fort Fredrick. After four attack runs, one gun­ship, manned by Captain Timothy Howard and his copilot/gunner Captain Jeb Seagle, were shot down by antiaircraft fire. Both crewmen survived the crash, although Capt Howard was seriously wounded. As Grenadian troops closed on the downed Marine pilots, the other gunship strafed them with 20 mm canon fire and 2.75-inch rockets. This suppressed the Grenadian troops long enough for a Marine CH-46 to land and rescue Capt Howard, although Capt Seagle was killed by the Grenadian troops. Capt Seagle later was awarded the Navy Cross, posthumously. As the CH-46 lifted off with the wounded pilot aboard, the remaining gunship was shot down and crashed into the sea, killing both Major John “Pat” Guigerre and First Lieutenant Jeff Sharver who would each be awarded the Silver Star posthumously.

Despite these losses, Marine air sup­port to the Rangers continued. When the Rangers ascertained the location of the remaining 200 American students at Grand Anse Beach, HMM-261 assisted in their rescue and evacuation. Marine helicopters carrying Rangers landed under fire on the beach while artillery, mortars, and fires from American aircraft rained down on Cuban and Grenadian positions. The Rangers secured the annex and began the evacuation of the students to the waiting Marine helicopters under fire, rescuing 224 American students without any casualties.
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An aerial view of Fort Frederick showing damage sustained during Operation Urgent Fury in October 1983.

While the Marines experienced only sporadic resistance up north, St. George’s and Point Salines proved to be where the majority of the defenders were deployed. Navy SEALs encountered heavy resist­ance in St. Georges as well while attempt­ing to rescue Governor-General Scoon, who had been placed under house arrest by Grenadian forces. They managed to reach the residence and even wrest the Governor-General from his captors, but soon the mansion was besieged by Grenadian forces with heavy machine guns and armored personnel carriers. The SEALs held out, but it was unclear how long they could last.
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Cubans who were captured on Grenada during Operation Urgent Fury.

Company G, 2/8, still aboard ships after their amphibious landing near Grenville had been postponed, received a new mission: land at Grand Mal Bay and lift the siege of the SEALs at the Governor-General’s mansion. The amphibious as­sault vehicles came ashore in the dark, establishing a beachhead by 7 p.m. Navy landing craft brought in tanks, jeeps, heavy weapons, and other equipment as Marines and Sailors worked through the night to consolidate their foothold ashore. HMM-261 brought Company F in from Grenville before dawn as well. The two companies of Marines, led by tanks and amphibious assault vehicles, pushed toward St. George’s as the sun rose meeting minor resistance from rocket propelled grenade fire. When the Marines captured a Grenadian officer, he told them that his men had fled upon hearing the sound of the oncoming Marine tanks in the dark.

The Marines pressed on toward the Governor-General’s mansion where they successfully relieved the SEALs, Mr. Scoon, and his family. The Marines then turned their attention to Fort Frederick, taking it without a fight. In addition to many abandoned weapons, the Marines found discarded uniforms lying about the place. They also discovered valuable intelligence documents describing defending forces on the island. A Grenadian major they captured explained that Grenadian forces, “did not expect a combined helicopter and surface assault at night and did not expect an attack of any sort north of St. George’s.” Furthermore, “This combined night assault was a psychological shock to the PRA, whereby the few remaining senior officers present opted and agreed to pass the word to lay down their arms and return home.” Within 72 hours of the invasion, the mission reached a turning point. Resistance on Grenada could be characterized as fleeting engagements as American forces consolidated their positions and shifted into stability op­erations. However, the Marines did en­counter some friction.

With three companies spread across the island and unit sectors continuing to expand, the 22nd MAU needed more Ma­rines on the ground. The battalion landing team’s organic artillery battery was sent ashore as a provisional infantry company. The artillerymen contributed immensely to operations ashore by re­lieving two in­fantry companies tied down in St. George’s. Furthermore, this provisional infantry company captured important members of the Grenadian regime in hiding, spe­cifically Deputy Prime Minister Bernard Coard. These former officials were identified with the help of Grenadian locals that did not want them to return to power.

Since D-day, paratroopers of the 82nd Airborne Division continued to arrive and occupy battlespace, growing to 6,140 men on the island. The main island of Grenada was secure, but the attention of the expe­ditionary force shifted to the nearby island of Carriacou. Intelligence efforts noted a Grenadian military head­quarters there and gathered reports that some Grenadian forces had fled to Carriacou, where they remained armed. Therefore, the amphib­ious task force received a follow-on mis­sion to seize Carriacou in a “combined surface and air landing.”

Marine forces on Grenada were relieved by paratroopers of the 82nd Airborne Division and immediately turned to their next mission. The Marines and all of their gear returned to their ships by 8 p.m. on Oct. 31, and prepared for the next landing, scheduled to occur in less than 10 hours. Company F touched down in helicopters at 5:30 a.m. while Company G went ashore in assault amphibians. Carriacou was taken without a shot fired, and the locals welcomed the Marines once again.

The seizure of Grenada was achieved in just over one week. During the course of Operation Urgent Fury, the U.S. mil­itary suffered 19 killed and 89 wounded in action. The Army took the brunt of the casualties with 12 dead and 71 wounded. The Marines lost three killed and 15 wounded while the Navy had four dead and three wounded. Grenadian losses were 45 killed and 377 wounded, including civilians. Cuban forces on the island suffered 24 killed, 29 wounded, and 600 captured. American objectives were achieved with the successful evacuation of 599 American citizens, none killed or injured. Free elections were held in Grenada on Dec. 19, 1983, four days after the last American troops left.
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American students sit inside an airport terminal waiting to be evacuated by U.S. military personnel during Operation Urgent Fury.

Author’s bio: Capt Hanson is Wpns Co commander of 3rd Bn, 4th Marines at Twentynine Palms, Calif. He is a con­tributing editor of The Connecting File, an online news­letter dedicated to infantry tactics, tech­niques, procedures and leadership.

Dissent Done Right

Military Leaders, Doctrine Encourage Criticism

By 2ndLt Kyle Daly, USMC

When a Marine lieutenant colonel was relieved of his command in August 2021 for publicly criticizing military leadership on social media, Major Brian Kerg received a message from one of his best Marines.

Kerg, a communications officer and operational planner, had written more than a dozen articles for a military journal. Some of the articles were critical of military practices.

The first lieutenant who messaged Kerg wanted to know why LtCol Stuart Scheller was facing negative consequences for his public criticism of senior leaders, while Kerg had never been in trouble for his writings.

“He messaged me and he had that question,” Kerg told Leatherneck. “Hey sir, what’s going on here? You write articles that are critical of things, and sometimes, pretty assertively so. Meanwhile, this guy comes along, and he’s being critical as well, but he’s getting canned. His career is over.”

Kerg initially wrote the Marine a lengthy response, trying to answer all his questions and concerns. But then he realized, if one person had this concern, others did as well.
That lengthy response morphed into an article that was published in the September issue of the U.S. Naval Institute’s monthly journal Proceedings. The article, “How Active-Duty Officers Should Criticize Policy and Practice,” explained that criticism is not only allowed in the sea services but encouraged. However, Kerg writes, it must be done appropriately and in a professional manner.

“There is a fine line between honest critique and undermining faith in the chain of command,” Kerg writes in his article. “On one side, servicemembers are given wide latitude to vigorously debate policy and practice. On the other, members risk conflating private opinion for official policy, can abuse the privilege of their office, and set bad examples to those they are charged to lead. This issue is simultaneously simple and complex.”

The “fine line” that Kerg writes about in his article seemed to fuel confusion and debate among veterans and civilians who commented on LtCol Stuart Scheller’s first video post, which was uploaded on Facebook and LinkedIn.

Scheller, a 17-year infantryman and the commanding officer of Advanced Infantry Training Battalion-East, posted the video just hours after news broke that 13 servicemembers—11 of them Marines—had died in a bombing at the Hamid Karzai International Airport in Kabul, where the U.S. military was engaged in efforts to evacuate personnel from the country. Scheller filmed himself talking into the camera, wearing his uniform that showed his rank insignia, name and branch of service. Scheller criticized the way in which top military leaders handled the Afghanistan withdrawal and were not admitting to possible mistakes.
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Sgt Daniel Pluth, 1st Bn, 6th Marine Regiment, uses his laptop computer after finishing his shift in Sangin District, Helmand province, Afghanistan, Oct. 6, 2011.

“People are upset because their senior leaders let them down, and none of them are raising their hands and accepting ac­countability or saying, ‘We messed this up,’” Scheller said in the video.

Scheller would go on to make other video posts despite instruction from his command not to do so. He was eventually court-martialed and at a hearing in October, pleaded guilty to various charges, including conduct unbecoming an officer and a gentle­man. In social media posts in August, he said he resigned his commission. By December, he was out of the Marine Corps. Scheller has written a book called “Crisis of Command: How We Lost Trust and Confidence in America’s Generals and Politicians.” It was published by Knox Press and will be distributed by Simon and Schuster in September 2022.

On Simon and Schuster’s website, a description of the book states: “Scheller spoke out, and the generals lashed out. In fact, they jailed him to keep him quiet … Now Scheller is free from the shackles of the Marine Corps and can speak his mind.”
According to Stars and Stripes, the first video Scheller made received more than 300,000 views and 22,000 shares on Facebook and LinkedIn, and more than 4,000 comments within the first 24 hours.

One commenter, who identified himself as a medically retired gunnery sergeant, wrote, “You do not help troops by showing you have no confidence in the leadership. He’s harming the Marines who will have to deploy to this combat zone to unscrew this disaster, because if you don’t follow orders, you can have no discipline … I do not disagree with what he said at all. But he needs to hang up the uniform and then say it.”

Another commenter, who also identified as a veteran, had a different take: “This LtCol put his neck out on the line for the Marines. He should not be punished or chastised for doing so. We should see leaders who are willing to sacrifice everything for their Marines, and far too often we see leaders who would sacrifice their Marines for everything.”

Kerg read the comments on Scheller’s video post and received questions from people he knew. In his article, he wrote that an analysis of the viewpoints revealed confusion about “the essential issue.” Kerg summed up that issue in one question: “Is honest, frank critique of policy and practice truly permitted?”

His answer: “Yes, it is!”

Members of the military, including junior enlisted and young officers, are allowed to openly disagree with their superiors and express criticism of policies and practices. In the decision-making process at the tactical level, young officers are taught to listen to their subordinates’ concerns. And with major policies and practices drawn up by commanders who operate at the strategic and operational levels, forums, such as military journals, exist for individuals of all ranks to voice their ideas and concerns in a public setting.

Dissent—specifically, loyal dissent, or being critical while remaining loyal to the institution—is encouraged.

This encouragement has come in the form of doctrinal publications as well as the public writings and speeches by senior military leaders. Numerous articles and essays—including Kerg’s—have been written about how to engage in that dialogue in a professional manner.
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Recruits from Oscar Co, 4th Recruit Training Battalion, Recruit Training Regiment learn Marine Corps history at MCRD Parris Island, S.C., Oct. 29, 2014. Recruits receive six history classes that range from the Marine Corps’ founding in 1775 to recent operations in Iraq and Afghanistan.

During a lecture at West Point in 2008, then-Secretary of Defense Robert Gates told future Army officers that he was impressed with how the Army’s professional journals allow officers to critique their leadership.

“I believe this is a sign of institutional strength and vitality,” Gates said. “I encourage you to take on the mantle of fearless, thoughtful, but loyal dissent when the situation calls for it. And, agree with the articles or not, senior officers should embrace such dissent as a healthy dialogue and protect and advance those considerably more junior who are taking on that mantle.”

LtCol Michelle Macander cited Gates’ comment on loyal dissent in her essay published in the online national security publication War on the Rocks in December 2021. Macander said the inspiration for the article, “How to Dissent Without Losing Your Career, or Your Republic,” came from the Scheller episode and a media narrative that the military was stopping servicemembers from being allowed to dissent.

“That’s not the case at all,” Macander told Leatherneck. “You just have to do it within a certain manner. And you have to be professional while you’re doing it. I think the more people that say that, the better. And the more venues that are publishing it, the better.”

As a commander, Macander, a combat engineer officer, said she encouraged honest opinion and feedback up to the point of when a decision was made. “And then once a decision is made, you step out smartly,” she said. Macander, who was assigned as a military fellow at the Center for Strategic and International Studies, said this form of dissent is taught at the tactical level, but she believes it transcends up.
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1stSgt Denise M. Ruiz, Headquarters Company, Combat Logistics Regiment 27, 2nd Marine Logistics Group, calls on a Marine during a noncommissioned officer discussion at Camp Lejeune, N.C., Feb. 11, 2010.

Marine Corps doctrinal publications describe this type of loyal dissent.

MCDP 1, Warfighting, states that until a commander has reached a decision, “subordinates should consider it their duty to provide honest, professional opinions even though these may be in disagreement with the senior’s opinions.” But once that decision is reached, “juniors then must support it as if it were their own.”

Warfighting also states that senior leaders must encourage candor among subordinates, and that compliance for the purpose of personal advancement will not be tolerated. MCDP 7, Learning, goes a step further, saying that “all Marines prepare themselves to become leaders by exercising humility and being open to constructive feedback.”
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Exercise participants take notes at a brief during Combined Unit Exercise (CUX) 19.1 at Marine Corps Information Operations Center, MCB Quantico, Va., April 10, 2019. (Photo by LCpl Garrett Jones, USMC)

A ‘Precious Mechanism’MCWP 6-10, Leading Marines, references an article written in 1986 by then-retired LtGen Victor H. Krulak. Krulak’s essay, “A Soldier’s Dilemma,” published in Marine Corps Gazette, lays out a set of rules for subordinates on how to dissent and rules for commanders on how to accept criticism.

In the essay, Krulak emphasizes multiple times the importance of using the chain of command. Krulak describes the chain of command as “the precious mechanism by which all military activity is driven.”

“The dissenter should use it,” he writes.

The dissenter should put their idea on paper and take to it to their immediate superior. However, Krulak acknowledges, a superior might not be interested in adopting the idea that a dissenter sets forth. In that case, the dissenter should seek the highest authority involved in the issue, but with his or her immediate supervisor in the know.

“But the key point is this: The idea is now in the open, well-developed and well-expressed,” he writes. “And somewhere in the chain of command there may just be someone with the interest and perception to take up the cause—if it’s a good one.”

Deciding to make a public social media post instead of using the chain of command to air a grievance was one point brought up several times by commenters on Scheller’s video post. One subject of contention among commenters was whether to trust the chain of command since senior leadership was the target of Scheller’s grievances.

“The chain is fractured,” one commenter said. “I have never seen such loss of confidence in my adult life.”

Having faith in the chain of command is a piece of advice offered in a 1998 essay written by Marine Corps LtCol Mark E. Cantrell. The essay, published in Marine Corps Gazette, was titled “The Doctrine of Dissent.” In the essay, Cantrell suggested that the military “develop a doctrine for dealing with dissent and the mistakes that inspire it.”

Like Krulak, Cantrell was writing about the loyal dissenter, or a person who has a disagreement with an idea but remains loyal to the institution and their command. Also like Krulak, Cantrell writes that if the dissenter is unable to change their superior’s mind, and if the issue is important enough, then they should go to the next person in the chain of command while having the courage to inform their immediate superior that they are taking this route.

“Stick to your chain of command,” Cantrell writes. “Right or wrong, you’ll make few friends by going to the press or Congress to resolve a problem that could have been corrected by Marines. If you are right, there is a Marine somewhere in that chain who will see it.”
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Sgt Melissa Salazar, right, a food service specialist with Combat Logistics Regiment 27, 2nd Marine Logistics Group and other noncommissioned officers from the regiment raise their hands in response to a question during a class aboard Camp Lejeune, N.C., Feb. 11, 2010.

Cantrell’s essay is mentioned in another article written by George E. Reed, a former Army officer and currently the dean of the School of Public Affairs at the University of Colorado Colorado Springs. The essay, “The Ethics of Followership and the Expression of Loyal Dissent” was presented at the International Leadership Association’s annual conference in 2012. Reed holds a doctorate in public policy analysis and administration and is an expert on the subject of leadership.

He writes that Cantrell’s essay seemed to be aimed at junior Marines since a person of a higher rank has fewer people to appeal their concerns to. “His faith that a Marine somewhere in the chain will recognize a position as right might strike some of us as hopeful at best and quite possibly naïve, yet the respect for the better nature of the organization that his approach connotes seems commendable,” Reed writes.

Reed’s essay, which did not exclusively focus on dissent in the military, states that the military might be unique in that it puts great emphasis on expressing dissent within the organization before one decides to take an idea or concern public. “Few other organizations emphasize the chain of command to such an extent, but most would agree that one should give the existing authorities a full opportunity to address a problem before taking it over their heads,” he writes.

In speaking with Leatherneck, Reed, a retired Army colonel, said if a person is dissenting in the military because they think they have a better idea than a superior or they are critical of a superior’s decision, one of the problems they might face is “rank perspective.”

“The world I saw as a second lieutenant and my concerns and what I cared about were in many respects limited by my role and my experience,” Reed explained. “My perspectives as a colonel were very different. And I’m sure the perspective of the Secretary of Defense were very different from the one I had.”
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Secretary of the Navy, Ray Mabus, speaks to a classroom of Marine officers at The Basic School about the future of the Marine Corps during his visit to MCB Quantico, Va., Jan. 27, 2016.

While researching the topic of loyal dissent, Reed recalls coming across literature written by a servicemember who advised the dissenter to begin with the assumption that their senior leadership is privy to information that they are not. “You need to start with that assumption,” Reed said. “That they may know something that you don’t because of the limitations of your perspective.”

That doesn’t necessarily mean that’s the end of the story, Reed explained. But it should be the starting point for the dissenter.

In a written statement Scheller gave at his court martial, Scheller said he believed that addressing his concerns “within the chain of command would be ineffective.”

“I knew my complaints would never be heard by the Commandant, the SECDEF, the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs, or the American people if I went through the proper channels,” he stated.

In early June, Leatherneck reached out to Scheller via a private message on LinkedIn to gain his perspective on how he delivered his initial message and whether there was another way to make an impact and have his concerns addressed. Scheller responded by criticizing the focus of this article, and then posted a screenshot of his response on his public LinkedIn and Facebook pages, which, as of the publication of this article, can still be viewed.

Scheller, however, did expand on his views in a February video interview with Marine Corps Times, stating his belief that the proper channels are “broken.”

“I thought about this beforehand,” Scheller said. “Does going through the system, via IG complaint, request mast, all of these processes, would that be effective? And I came to the conclusion that it wouldn’t be, based on my experiences of watching these processes before. And so everyone wants to talk about these processes, but they don’t address why they’re broken.”
‘Emotions in the Background’
LtCol Macander’s War on the Rocks article offers several criteria servicemembers must follow to achieve what she calls “allowable dissent.” Two of those criteria are to remain professional and to avoid personal attacks.

To remain professional, Macander writes the person should “avoid disrespectful language, focus on the institution or policy being criticized, and use objective analyses to bolster the argument.” In her article, Macander said that Scheller used “emotional and unprofessional language,” and that such language shouldn’t be used in a public forum when the goal is to change or improve the institution.

Cantrell’s “The Doctrine of Dissent” states that “even rational arguments sound suspect if delivered with too much feeling.”

“Although important issues will often be emotional, you’ll want to keep those emotions in the background if you wish to be persuasive,” Cantrell writes.

When Scheller posted his first video, the lieutenant colonel said he had a “growing discontent and contempt for my perceived ineptitude at the foreign policy level.” In Macander’s opinion, these words from Scheller were both “emotional” and “unprofessional.” Those who cross the line of professionalism in the military—especially commissioned officers—could face legal consequences. Some of the charges that were brought against Scheller were related directly to the lack of professionalism he showed in his first and subsequent video posts.

Among the charges that Scheller pleaded guilty to at a court martial last fall were contempt toward officials and disrespect toward superior commissioned officers. In his first video, Scheller called out several high-ranking officials, including Secretary of Defense Lloyd Austin and Commandant of the Marine Corps General David Berger. In her essay, Macander asserts that “had Scheller not focused on personal attacks, he may have avoided those charges.”
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A Marine with Combat Logistics Battalion 6, 2nd Marine Logist­ics Group, takes notes during a call-for-fire class held at Twentynine Palms, Calif., May 6, 2013.

A Case for Professional WritingMaj Kerg has encouraged both peers and junior Marines to write for professional journals. In his essay about dissent, Kerg wrote that professional journals present a good place for a servicemember to express criticism since the publishers “know the profession and serve as guard rails that can protect authors and speakers from themselves.”

LtCol Macander said the original version of her essay—a more opinion-based version—was rejected by War on the Rocks. She rewrote the essay and pitched a version that was more “fact-based.” They accepted it. But that wasn’t the end. “I think we went through three rounds of editing,” she said. The editor had questions for her that she didn’t think of, and she was forced to answer arguments that readers might have had if one of the drafts were published.

The medium in which one delivers their dissent is as important as the message, Macander writes. Social media—where Scheller decided to deliver his message—could be that medium, but it presents some challenges. “While [social media] is appealing in its power to quickly disseminate an idea to a broad audience, the ability for a dissenter to post on impulse could more easily result in an unacceptable message,” Macander states in her essay. A professional journal, on the other hand, requires one to go through an editing process and a peer review.

Military journals also present disclaimers that are required by the Department of Defense. When publishing a written work on a topic related to the department and its activities, DOD employees must have a disclaimer that states that the views expressed are those of the writer and do not necessarily represent the views of the DOD or its components. Kerg writes that professional military journals generally have disclaimers printed in every issue and on their websites.

In the same month that Kerg’s article on dissent was published, Proceedings also published a piece by Kerg titled “Dare to Write.” In this article, Kerg writes that every leader in uniform has ideas that should be shared, and that professional writing is one of the most effective ways to do this.

His article quotes former Chief of Naval Operations Admiral John Richardson, who, in 2016, coauthored an essay that en­couraged naval servicemembers to develop habits of reading and writing. Richardson encouraged servicemembers to not only write their ideas, but to expose those ideas to public scrutiny.

“An argument properly conceived and defended can be of great value to our profession,” Richardson writes.

Kerg told Leatherneck that junior leaders in the Marine Corps are well-positioned to identify problems with ideas that have been conceived by senior leaders since those junior members—enlisted and officer—are the ones implementing the concepts from higher up. And if that junior member identifies a way to fix that problem, that idea will be wasted if it’s not shared with the people that can implement the solution.

Kerg acknowledges that there are several channels a junior Marine and a young officer can take to have their ideas heard, from simply utilizing their chain of command to writing information papers or after-action reports. “That’s all great and those have their place, but professional writing … it will get your ideas in front of other leaders, in other positions who probably have a greater ability to put the idea into greater application,” Kerg said. “If you develop an idea and get it into one of those (professional journals), it will be seen by people with the power to execute.”
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A Marine prepares to fire his M240 machine gun as part of the Advanced Infantry Course aboard the Kahuku Training Facility, Sept. 20, 2016.

‘If You Try, You Will Fail’LtCol Macander’s essay in War on the Rocks compared Scheller’s first video post with a 2007 essay written by then-Army LtCol Paul Yingling. Paul Yingling’s article “A Failure in Generalship,” published in the Armed Forces Journal, accused senior military leaders of failing to prepare U.S. armed forces for the Iraq war. The essay was not only critical of an institution—the general corps—but it also proposed solutions on how Congress could change the officer promotion system.

One line from Yingling’s article is still often cited in academic journals and by columnists today: “A private who loses a rifle suffers far greater consequences than a general who loses a war.”

In their essays on dissent, both Macander and Kerg point to Yingling as an example of someone who was critical of senior leadership but did not face any serious reprisals because of that criticism. Although he received much media attention because he was an active-duty officer who was critical of his senior leadership, Yingling eventually was promoted to colonel and was never charged with any crime under the UCMJ.
Macander puts Yingling’s essay in the category of acceptable dissent.

“The military establishment may not like hearing that it is not holding its general officer ranks accountable, but its treatment of Yingling shows that an assertion’s unpopularity alone does not make the dissent unacceptable,” Macander writes.

When Leatherneck contacted Yingling, who retired from the military in 2012 to pursue teaching, however, he stated in an email that some have recently used his experience to claim that an active-duty officer could “criticize the military without serious consequences.”

“Based on both my personal experience and the broader historical record, I can state with confidence that such a claim is false,” Yingling said. Yingling did not wish to state the specifics of those consequences other than the irony that by 2009, the Army was teaching his work at the Army War College, but he was not selected to attend the institution.

“I’ve never before discussed the personal consequences of my writing,” Yingling said. “I’m reluctant to do so now, as there are tens of thousands of Americans, and hundreds of thousands of Iraqis, who have suffered incalculably more from our misguided war efforts than I ever have or will from calling out those blunders.” While Yingling’s essay did not mark the end of his career—something he fully expected to happen—it didn’t achieve the outcome he intended.

“I’m not sure I’m the right person to ask for advice about expressing dissent, as I neither changed the system nor advanced within it,” Yingling said. “Nevertheless, it’s a fair question, and here’s my answer to aspiring dissenters: Don’t do it. You can’t change the system, and you shouldn’t try. If you try, you will fail, and you and your family will suffer, emotionally, socially, financially. … I failed, and you’ll fail too. You are not different. You are not special. You are not ‘the one.’ ”

Yingling warned that dissenting, or speaking truth to power, is not like “Mr. Smith Goes to Washington,” “where the plucky idealist speaks truth to power, gets the job, gets the girl, and lives happily ever after.”

“After hearing all that, most of you aspiring dissenters will decide to get along and go along within the system, as you should,” he said. “However, a couple of you will persist nevertheless, speaking truth to power without considering cost or consequence. Maybe you believe the issue is too important to remain silent. Maybe you just can’t live with yourself if you do something less than the full measure of your duty. Maybe you are the one.

“As Henry Ford said, ‘Whether you think you can or think you can’t—you’re right.’ ”
Author’s bio: 2ndLt Kyle Daly is a former journalist who enlisted in the Marine Corps in 2016. He was commissioned in 2021 and is currently stationed in San Antonio, Texas, undergoing training as a UAS officer.Before You Write, Know Your RightsServicemembers have a lot of leeway when it comes to the publishing world. However, if this is your first time driving through this territory, there are several rules of the road you should be aware of. The following is a summary of the various rules for active-duty members of the military and Department of Defense (DOD) employees when it comes to publishing in print or online. Leatherneck encourages servicemembers to seek their own resources and speak to their command before engaging in personal or professional publishing.
Disclaimer for Speeches and Writings Devoted to Agency Matters (DOD 5500.7-R: 2-207)A DOD employee who uses or permits the use of his military grade or who includes or permits the inclusion of his title or position as one of several biographical details given to identify himself in connection with teaching, speaking or writing … shall make a disclaimer if the subject of the teaching, speaking or writing deals in significant part with any ongoing or announced policy, program or operation of the DOD employee’s Agency … and the DOD employee has not been authorized by appropriate Agency authority to present that material as the Agency’s position.

The disclaimer shall be made as follows:

  • The required disclaimer shall expressly state that the views presented are those of the speaker or author and do not necessarily represent the views of DOD or its components;
  • Where a disclaimer is required for an article, book or other writing, the disclaimer shall be printed in a reasonably prominent position in the writing itself;
  • Where a disclaimer is required for a speech or other oral presentation, the disclaimer may be given orally provided it is given at the beginning of the oral presentation.

Acceptable Political Activities by Members of the Armed Forces (DOD Directive 1344.10)A member of the Armed Forces on active duty may:

  • Register, vote, and express a personal opinion on political candidates and issues, but not as a representative of the Armed Forces.
  • Write a letter to the editor of a newspaper expressing the member’s personal views on public issues or political candidates, if such action is not part of an organized letter­writing campaign or a solicitation of votes for or against a political party or partisan political cause or candidate. If the letter identifies the member as on active duty (or if the member is otherwise reasonably identifiable as a member of the Armed Forces), the letter should clearly state that the views expressed are those of the individual only and not those of the Department of Defense (or Department of Homeland Security for members of the Coast Guard).

Social Media Guidelines(U.S. Marine Corps 2021 Social Media Handbook)

  • Do not post classified or sensitive information
  • Be the first to respond to your own mistakes
  • Do not post defamatory, libelous, vulgar, obscene, profane, threatening, racially and ethnically divisive, or otherwise offensive or illegal information or material.
  • Identify to readers or personal social media accounts that the views expressed are yours alone and that they do not necessarily reflect the views of the Marine Corps
  • Discussing issues related to your personal experiences is acceptable, but do not discuss areas of expertise for which you have no background or knowledge
  • Marines may generally express their personal views about public issues and political candidates on internet sites, including liking or following accounts of a political party or partisan candidate, campaign, group, or cause. If the site explicitly or indirectly identifies Marines as on active duty (e.g., a title on LinkedIn or a Facebook profile photo), then the content needs to clearly and prominently state that the views expressed are the Marine’s own and not those of the U.S. Marine Corps or Department of Defense.

Where Should I Submit my Work?Marines and other servicemembers have many options when it comes to getting their ideas and opinions published. Here’s a list of some online and print publications they can consider.
Marine Corps GazetteFounded in 1916, Gazette is known as the “Professional Journal of U.S. Marines” and its purpose, as stated in each issue, is to “provide a forum for the exchange of ideas that will advance knowledge, interest, and esprit de corps in the Marine Corps.” Have an opinion about Expeditionary Advanced Base Operations? How about Force Design 2030? These Marine Corps-specific topics probably fit best in a Marine Corps-specific journal. The Marine Corps Association publishes the monthly journal, which also includes a blog and social media presence. More information can be found at mca-marines.org.

Leatherneck While the Gazette is considered a professional journal, Leatherneck is the “Magazine of Marines.” Think of the Gazette as checking into a new unit in your uniform, and Leatherneck as checking out of the barracks in your civilian attire. Have a funny sea story to share? This is the place to do it. New to writing? The “Sound Off” section features short letters that provide the perfect opportunity to work on your craft. Leatherneck is also an outstanding forum for articles on all aspects of Marine Corps history from Marines in the Civil War to today’s veterans of Iraq and Afghanistan and welcomes submissions from Marines whether active, reserve, veteran or retired. And don’t forget about the annual Leatherneck writing contest, which provides Marines the opportunity to have a feature article published. More information can be found at mca-marines.org.
ProceedingsFounded in 1876, the United States Naval Institute publishes this magazine for readers interested in topics about the sea services, which includes the Navy, Marine Corps and Coast Guard. Writers include veterans, civilians and active-duty personnel. More information can be found at usni.org.War on the RocksArguably the national security website for the current generation, War on the Rocks began in 2013 as a podcast and is described as a “community focused on strategy, defense and foreign affairs.” Writers include civilians and active-duty servicemembers. Be prepared to break out some credentials though. They seek to publish the work from “the most authoritative, experienced, and authentic voices on defense, foreign policy and national security.”Armed Forces JournalDescribed as the “leading joint-service journal of commentary and ideas for U.S. military officers and leaders,” the aim for the publishers is to “provoke thoughtful debate,” according to its website. AFJ describes most of its readers as field-grade and flag officers. The journal is published by Sightline Media Group. Go to armedforcesjournal.com for more information.

“There’s a Place for You in the American Legion”

These Marine Vets are the Face of the Next Generation of Legionnaires

By Sara W. Bock

Finding Purpose
Elizabeth Hartman was five years out of the Marine Corps when, in 2019, she bumped into a Vietnam-era Marine veteran in the small town of New Bern, N.C., where she resides.

“Hey, Marine, you need to continue to serve—get off your butt and come help!” she recalls Ed Hughes saying as he encouraged her to join the local American Legion Post 539. Not one to refuse orders, the 31-year-old self-described “boot lance corporal,” who had heard people complain that the American Legion was little more than a bunch of old guys in a bar, decided to see for herself.

Elizabeth joined MCA’s Scuttlebutt Podcast to talk about the American Legion, Click Here to Listen

What she found defied every stereotype: a diverse group of veterans from all gen­erations, a large segment of them fellow post-9/11 veterans, who were committed to supporting each other and continuing to serve their community and country even after hanging up their uniforms. Today, just three years after she first set foot in the door, Hartman serves both as the post’s commander and as Chair of the Legion’s National Legislative Council.

“Rank we leave at the door, we leave gender at the door, we leave race at the door. We just serve. And I think that’s what’s so beautiful because you can come in and you can just find that purpose,” said Hartman, who added that due to its proximity to Marine Corps Air Station Cherry Point, many of the post’s legion­naires are veteran Marines. “I would say a sense of purpose and a sense of belonging are the two things we frequently hear as what’s missing when someone separates from the Marine Corps. Joining an American Legion post, you belong, and you’re surrounded by people who get it.”

For Hartman, who served as an Arabic linguist during her time in the Corps and now works as a personal financial advisor, it’s important that Post 539 of­fers programming that appeals to all generations of Marines. The post has retained traditional offerings like Bingo nights and weekly gatherings at a bar, but also has added activities like a “Yak Attack” kayaking trip and an annual 22-mile hike that brings awareness to veteran suicide rates while raising funds for suicide prevention programming. Recently, when members of the post became aware that veterans’ headstones at a historically Black cemetery in the local area had fallen into disrepair and not been receiving the same honors and recognition as veterans in the nearby national cemetery, they procured grave cleaning kits from the Department of Veterans Affairs and spent two weekends cleaning up the headstones before holding a ceremony to render proper honors for those who had been laid to rest there.

“We put a flag by each, saluted, and said their name aloud to ensure they would get the honors they deserved. I was really proud of that one,” said Hartman, adding that the post has also found other ways to serve the community in recent months, including taking three homeless veterans off the street and helping them secure housing and jobs.

A pivotal experience for Hartman took place last summer in the wake of the attack at Hamid Karzai International Airport in Kabul, Afghanistan, on Aug. 26, which claimed the lives of 13 U.S. servicemembers who were assisting in the evacuation of America’s Afghan allies as the Taliban took control of the country. A week later, Post 539 held a town hall meeting for anyone who wanted to talk about what had transpired.

“We had GWOT [global war on terror] veterans crying because they were trying to cope with their feelings and emotions—two seats over you had a Vietnam veteran also crying because [of] seeing a photo of Kabul juxtaposed by Saigon,” Hartman recalled. “I think so often we see a dif­ferent generation of veterans and we think, ‘They’re so different from me.’ But really, we’re the same and we are going through the exact same situations and emotions, and it’s imperative that we come together and view ourselves as one team.”

The efforts at Hartman’s post are reflec­tive of a sea change at the highest levels of the national veteran service organization, which boasts 1.8 million members and more than 12,000 posts nationwide, as it navigates the challenge of attracting the next generation of veterans to join its ranks while ensuring that its older members continue to feel valued and seen. With a recently unveiled new logo, which does not replace its iconic star emblem but rather provides a secondary “brand mark,” the American Legion has its sights set on the future.

Addressing the Suicide CrisisFounded in 1919 by a small group of World War I veterans, the Legion has throughout its history not only provided a place for veterans to belong, but also has identified the biggest issue facing the next generation and figured out how to help solve or alleviate it. Historically, this has primarily been accomplished through lobbying efforts in Washington, D.C., where the Legion, which has one of the largest veterans lobbying groups, has played a vital role in ensuring that legislation that benefits veterans is signed into law.

“The WW I American Legion veteran set up the GI Bill for the World War II veteran, and then the WW II legionnaire took care of all the care and compensation around Agent Orange—that was the big­gest issue facing the next generation,” said the Legion’s Chief Marketing Officer, Dean Kessel, who added that today, the core of the Legion’s members are Vietnam veterans who are continuing that tradition of paying it forward. “What is the biggest issue facing this generation of veteran? It’s suicide and mental health.”

Recognizing that this complex issue can’t be addressed solely through legisla­tion, the American Legion recently rolled out its “Be the One” awareness and de-stig­ma­tization campaign, which encour­ages individuals to, rather than quote the alarming number of daily veteran suicides, “be the one to save one veteran.”

“Be the one to ask veterans in your life how they are doing; to listen when a veteran needs to talk; to reach out when a veteran is struggling,” the campaign urges.

According to retired Marine Gunnery Sergeant Chanin Nuntavong, who sits at the helm of the Legion’s Washington, D.C., office as the executive director of government and veteran affairs, the organization instituted a new “Buddy Check” program at the local level several years ago, asking post members to call their fellow legionnaires to check on them and see if they need anything. Less than two years later, the stay-at-home orders that accompanied the COVID-19 pandemic made the Buddy Check concept even more vital.

“We found people who were older and needed groceries and needed help and support,” said Nuntavong, adding that at the time, the idea for the Be the One campaign had not yet been conceived. “We are incorporating the Be the One campaign into our Buddy Check program, so not only are we going to call and ask how you’re doing, but we’re really going to dive a little deeper and check on your mental health, making sure you have services if you need any, or any assistance that we can provide locally.”

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Elizabeth Hartman, commander of American Legion Post 539, enjoys a beer with fellow post members during one of the post’s weekly Thursday evening gatherings.

Advocating on the HillNuntavong, who retired from the Corps in 2017 and previously served as public affairs advisor to the 17th Sergeant Major of the Marine Corps, Micheal P. Barrett, is responsible for overseeing the Legion’s lobbying arm and regularly testifies before Congress on matters concerning veterans. Since he assumed his current position, Nuntavong has had the opportunity to help ensure benefits for Blue Water Navy veterans who were exposed to Agent Orange and other herbicides while serving off the coast of Vietnam, as well as to testify in support of the recent Honoring our PACT Act, which will give the next generation of veterans harmed by toxins, largely from burn pits, presumption of service connection and access to earned benefits and healthcare. He and his team regularly meet with senators and members of the House of Representatives and review bills to determine their impact—both positive and negative—on those who have served. The Washington, D.C., office also employs nearly 50 individuals who work to process dis­ability compensation claims and appeals for veterans, free of charge. In 2021 alone, the American Legion secured a staggering $14 billion in benefits for veterans.

“Quite honestly, no one is going to fight for our brothers and sisters in arms as much as the American Legion,” said Hartman, whose role on the organization’s National Legislative Council is to help ensure that veterans are aware of the Legion’s legislative agenda, know their services and resources available, and are encouraged to pick up the phone and call their representatives on matters that affect their fellow veterans.

Nuntavong understands that some individuals may be at a point in their lives where they don’t have the time or feel the need to participate in their local post, and he finds their sentiments com­pletely valid. Still, he encourages all veterans to join the Legion because their membership fee—which is de­pendent on location but averages about $40 per year—helps support the org­ani­zation’s lobbying efforts on the Hill and its important work in processing veteran claims.

“Membership matters. So, if you can donate your $30 to the Legion, you’re going to help us advocate, and then when you’re ready to walk in the door and contribute your time, we’ll be there for you,” said Nuntavong, who hopes to dispel the myth that the American Legion is little more than a smoky bar that serves cheap beer.
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American Legion Executive Director Chanin Nuntavong, a retired Marine, testifies in support of the Blue Water Navy Vietnam Veterans Act before the Senate Veterans Affairs Committee at the Russell Senate Office Building in Washington, D.C., Aug. 1, 2018.

Staying RelevantWorking in the Los Angeles entertain­ment industry, Gulf War-era Marine vet­eran Jeff Daly had never even heard of the American Legion until five years ago when a friend invited him to attend a writing workshop with a group called Veterans in Media and Entertainment. The event was held at the Legion’s Hollywood Post 43— incidentally, the post at which Nuntavong is a member. The colossal art-deco style building is located just down the street from the Hollywood Bowl and is home to a multi-million dollar theater. Once referred to by The Wall Street Journal as “the coolest club in LA you can’t buy yourself into,” the structure made Daly’s eyes widen with interest.

“What is this place?” he remembers asking the person sitting next to him. Before he knew it, he too was a legionnaire and just recently became the commander of Post 43. Daly also is a co-host of the Legion’s national podcast, Tango Alpha Lima, in which he and fellow veterans have what he describes as “conversations that aren’t typically associated with the American Legion.”

“We talked about the George Floyd thing because the police officers were veterans. We’ve done Pride Month things, Black History Month things, women’s things,” said Daly of the podcast. “We’re speaking to two audiences: one’s internal and one’s external. Internal are the youn­ger members or actually any members that we already have that have a perception, true or false, that the Legion’s losing its relevance. And then the external is to show prospective members that we’re not.”

Daly describes his post of 1,300 mem­bers as younger on average, but still re­presentative of every living era, from World War II down to 18-year-olds who are serving on active duty.

“What drew me was the vibrance of all the members—because we have members of all ages—but [also] doing stuff,” said Daly. “We do professional development, because we’re in Hollywood that means we’re working with groups like Veterans in Media and Entertainment, because they bring in people to teach how to pitch a project, how to work with casting directors, get jobs behind the scenes in production. So we’re engaging people in the rest of their life, not just the memory of serving. That was important. […] That’s what brought me in. What’s kept me is that I also have learned to really latch on to the notion of continued service.”

When Daly suffered a stroke in March of this year, members of his post visited him every single day as he recovered.

“A lot of us, especially here, aren’t from here, don’t have family here, so this is a de facto family,” said Daly.
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Rediscovering Identity
The Marine Corps was in the rearview mirror for Ron Neff, who retired as a sergeant major in 2017 and headed for corporate America.

“The people were magnificent, the pay was fantastic, but it didn’t take long. Like so many other veterans, I started to experience what I felt like was an existential crisis of identity. I felt like I didn’t have purpose, I wasn’t surrounded by Marines anymore to kind of remind me of my value to them and the organization, I began to worry about my own mental and physical health. And while things were going well with the new job on the surface, below the surface I was definitely looking, grasping for something more,” said the sergeant major, who served in Iraq and Afghanistan during his 24-year career.

A motorcycle enthusiast, Neff happened to be at a Harley-David­son dealership near his home in Indianapolis, Ind., when a group of American Legion Riders rolled up. A fellow Marine he recognized from his time in the Corps was among them. The group invited him to visit the local post, which turned out to be less than a mile from his home, where he immediately joined and became a legionnaire.

“It kind of felt like you were hanging out with your Marines in the field or something. The flavors vary every day, but it was there, and you knew that if you needed to be transparent, to be yourself for a moment, whether it was a period of vulnerability or just pride and confidence in your service, there was somebody there that could listen,” said Neff of his experience at his post.

Within months of getting involved, Neff, who still was dissatisfied with his career path, noticed a position had opened at the American Legion National Head­quar­ters in Indianapolis, and applied.

“Fortunately for me I got it and I kind of feel like a Marine all over again,” Neff, who serves as director of the Legion’s Americanism Division, said with a laugh.

Americanism is one of the Legion’s “pillars,” focused on the development of the nation’s most valuable resource: its youth. As director, Neff is responsible for youth programs that include American Legion Baseball, Junior Shooting Sports, Boys Nation, the National Oratorical Contest, Youth Cadet Law Enforcement and Scouting, as well as flag etiquette, youth scholarships and the child welfare foundation.

“It’s externally focused on the same population of great Americans that we served in uniform, so it’s like being that humble servant to Americans again, and not uniquely devoted to taking care of our fellow veterans,” said Neff of his work in the division. “That’s a mandate that never goes away, but Americanism from the American Legion is really externally focused and just selling the message that this country is beautiful and amazing, and patriotism is not partisan, and that’s why we serve, this country’s worth it, and we communicate that to others.”

Neff considers becoming a legionnaire to be an extension of service and encour­ages all veteran Marines who are search­ing for purpose to find a home in the American Legion.

“There is a common excitement when you walk out of uniform. You’re looking forward to living the ‘other life,’ so to speak. But in your excitement to leave, sometimes it’s lost upon you that when you’ve selflessly served others for so long it becomes a part of your identity, an innate characteristic or trait that doesn’t go away,” said Neff, adding these words aimed at his fellow veterans: “There’s a place for you in the American Legion.”

Seize and Hold

 

An Open Message to the Enlisted Infantryman


By MGySgt Beau F. Hornsby, USMC • MGySgt Robert N. Robinson, USMC •
MGySgt Justin W. Aiken, USMC, MGySgt Tim P. Hanson, USMC and MGySgt Joshua P. Adkins, USMC


The infantry Marine and the greater Ground Combat Element have been, is, and will remain the main effort of the United States Marine Corps. No single element of the MAGTF wins the war because we are a combined arms team capable of integrating every command and potential new fighting domain, but the infantry remains central.”
SgtMaj Troy E. Black
Sergeant Major of the Marine CorpsFrom Iwo Jima to Pusan; Khe Sanh to Kandahar; Fallujah to Marjah, one thing has remained constant: Infantry Marines were tasked to seize and hold key terrain. The “in order to” may change, but tomorrow’s battlefield still requires infantry Marines to seize and hold key terrain. This is why the infantry is and remains the main effort.

In the last three years, there has been a lot of discussion regarding the transitions that the Marine Corps must go through in order to remain ahead of the competition and a lethal warfighting organization, able to respond to all manners of crises. The Marine Corps recently began fielding modernized and technologically advanced platforms like the F-35B variant of the Joint Strike Fighter, the CH-53K heavy lift helicopter, the AH-1Z and UH-1Y light attack helicopters, the Amphibious Combat Vehicle, improved communication systems, and updated pre­cision strike capabilities, just to name a few. These advancements are all designed to improve the lethality of ground forces engaged in close combat.

In the face of these advancements, one thing remains unchanged: the infantry must seize and hold key terrain. Without this essential contribution to the warfighting effort, nothing else matters.

History demonstrates this has always been true for the Marine Corps and remains true even in our newest concepts of seizing and holding expeditionary advanced bases in support of larger joint force and naval campaign plans. When nuclear weapons were introduced, infantry formations were deemed obsolete and no longer necessary. However, infantry formations are indeed deployed to deter the use of such strategic weapons.

History would argue that the infantry, too, is a strategic weapon of deterrence. Advanced technology alone will not win the future fight. Warfighters win battles when their boots are on the ground, armed with little more than a rifle, and look their adversary in the eye and say, “Not on my watch.”

Infantry Marines do not fight alone, however. They are often the first or last line of defense, where the stakes are higher, operating in full view of the enemy. They are asked to fight the country’s battles like no other; they do more with less and always come out on top. Infantry Marines pride themselves on being among the first to run to the sound of gunfire and engage the enemy. Considered fearless yet unassuming, they don’t boast or brag but just work hard for the fellow Marine to their right and left.
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Pvt Dahe C. Gibbs, a student with the School of Infantry-East, lays down suppressive fire during the Infantry Marine Course on MCB Camp Lejeune, N.C., on July 22, 2021. (Photo by LCpl Isaiah Gomez, USMC)

At times, infantry Marines are often called knuckle draggers with bad attitudes and boorish behavior who are always looking for a fight. Yet, they live for the moment when the country calls. They deliver tactical victories to larger operations and strategies. Following in the footsteps of their Marine Corps forebears they are willing to sacrifice themselves for their Marines.

They fight the enemy with every weapon at their disposal to include their calloused, bloody, bare hands if needed. The Marine infantry refuses to quit or lose in the face of adversity. They will neither flag nor fail.

At the recent Ground Combat Element Operations Chief Symposium, the Commandant of the Marine Corps, Gen David H. Berger, stated flat-out that “the infantry is the Marine Corps’ main effort.” He continued by saying the infantry is the reason the service will win the next fight—either in competition or conflict.

Infantry Marines have one simple demand of themselves—to be ready for the next battle—and they know that hard, realistic training is what they need to prepare for that certainty. More importantly, it is what they want, all part and parcel of the Spartan life they chose. Infantry Marines have pride in “the suck,” pride of being an infantry Marine, pride in knowing that if something happens in the world that they will be the ones that get to make things right, they are the ones that stand tall and say “I got this” as they move forward into the fight.
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Capt Philip Treglia calls in a danger close airstrike in support of his Marines with Co A, 1st Bn, 5th Marine Regiment in Fallujah, Iraq, April 7, 2004. (Photo by Cpl Matthew J. Apprendi, USMC)

They joined for the esprit de corps, to be the ones that protect others, longing to be at the tip of the spear when the decisive blow is landed.

Let this serve as a reminder to all infantry Marines: stand up tall, lift your chin, stick out your chest, and remind the world around you where the Marine Corps’ center of gravity is. The infantry is the essential element of Marine expeditionary forces and the reason this country can sleep well at night without fear.

The next generation’s infantry formation is more lethal than ever. These formations are already equipped with a rifle that delivers better accuracy and range, better optics, vastly improved night vision capability, targets that simulate enemy movement, and lighter gear that provides both better protection and improved mobility.
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Sgt Bryan Early, a squad leader with 1st Bn, 9th Marine Regiment, crosses a field with a fellow Marine while under fire in Helmand Province, Afghanistan, on Dec. 22, 2013.

The service is also investing heavily in its most precious resource—the human—and holistic Human Performance programs. The new Infantry Marine Course is not just improving the quality of Infantry Marines reporting to the fleet, but it’s also improving the quality of the small unit leader that trains and leads them. This approach will very soon lead to new leaders courses that will improve all echelons of small unit leaders’ abilities to lead formations in all environments to include the critical and challenging littorals.

The Marine Corps is far from finished with this transformation. Future infantry Marines can expect to see improved as­sault/anti-armor capabilities, small UAS (Unmanned Aircraft Systems), organic precision fires, next generation tactical communications, and the tools to integrate all of these increased capabilities. These assets are being fielded all the way down to the smallest tactical formations. Those formations must be led by our best and most-capable young leaders. This is what drove the service-wide change of how we evaluate, promote and empower our young leaders.
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SgtMaj Troy E. Black, Sergeant Major of the Marine Corps, speaks to Marines attending the Ground Combat Element Operations Chief Symposium at MCB Quantico, Va., Feb. 28.

This talent, developed and refined, must be kept within our ranks. This is a steadfast truth. These small units must, as they have always been, be led by the sturdy professionals and practitioners of war who call themselves The Few and The Proud to remain the most ready when our nation is least ready. This is how we meet the Commandant’s drive for a more capable and better trained and educated force.

Future infantry formations require educated and exper­ienced leadership from its enlisted ranks. The Operations Chiefs, the most senior enlisted infantry leaders, were tasked by both CMC and the SMMC at the recent GCE Operations Chief Symposium to find and pursue better ways to keep our best infantry Marines in our ranks.

Infantry Marines of the future should expect to see improved opportunities to shape where and how they serve, to improve their quality of life through tough and realistic training, additional resources to take better care of their families, and rewards for continuing to answer the call.

Make no mistake, the nation will call again and need her Marines to go forward. When that happens, experienced leaders are needed in that formation—experienced infantry Marines who have been honing their craft in the swamps of Camp Lejeune, the deserts of Twentynine Palms, the hills of Camp Pendleton, the jungles throughout the Pacific, and everywhere in between, preparing their squads and platoons. Marines never have the luxury of choosing the time and place of answering the nation’s call, but no matter the clime or place, they always answer and so it will be for our future infantry formations.
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Cpl Zenon Garcia Lopez asks SgtMaj Troy E. Black, Sergeant Major of the Marine Corps, a question during a town hall with Marine Corps Communication-Electronics School at MCAGCC, Twentynine Palms, Calif., March 3.

“I need you for tomorrow’s fight. The young men and women you are training right now need an experienced leader, not the next Marine up. Don’t leave it to someone else. Be a part of the change that will allow us to be great for another century. You are the main effort and our nation and our Corps need you. Seize and Hold!”


—MGySgt Robert N. Robinson, 5th Marine Regiment Operations Chief
Authors’ bios: MGySgt Beau F. Hornsby, Operations Close Combat Lethality Task Force; MGySgt Robert N. Robinson, Operations Chief, 5th Marine Regiment; MGySgt Justin W. Aiken, current School of Infantry-East (SOI-E) regimental operations chief, MGySgt Tim P. Hanson, incoming SOI-E regimental operations chief, and MGySgt Joshua P. Adkins, Operations Chief, Marine Forces Europe/Africa.