Sea Stories
Ok Marines! Leave it to the Squid to remind you of your Naval Heritage. A Sea Story need I remind you, is a tale spun from reality spiced with truth and maybe some fiction which is usually up to the bearer of the tale to convey and the hearer to sort it out!
I wanted to set up a place where we can share some stories from the days at the Grove. There are plenty, and I would like you to submit them via e-mail to me so that we can keep the format flowing and not loose it’s place with Scuttlebutt where you can make comments about stuff.
The server where the page resides has rules we need to abide by since they have been gracious in affording this space at an economy I will adhere to it.
Tell the stories you would not mind having your kids read or your wife hearing if it was someone else telling it or one you would not have a problem fixing your name to it! Remember, this is cyberspace and a lot of folks will end up perusing our little section of paradise! So keep it readable to the general public.
The password is known by those who should post here, all others contact me.
So, want to tell a story submit it here.
Doc
I just set this section back up and will test with a story I posted on FaceBook today for those who don’t dally in that forum, you can suffer here too!
In August of 1977 I had just completed training at the Navy’s Field Medical Service School located at Camp Johnson which is/was part of the US Marine Corp’s Camp LeJune Military Reservation located in North Carolina. “Field Med School” is the place the Navy trains it’s Hospital Corpsman; also known as “Doc’s” (and why you will see some of the Marines I served with that visit this place, call me “Doc”) to work with the USMC, as the Marines get their “few good men” from the Navy to work as combat and medical support Corpsman.
After graduation a group of us, newly graduated sailors headed up to Rye, New York located just outside New York City to spend the weekend. The weekend was like most weekends with rowdy sailors who had just made their mark on the world (and that definition includes the rising of the sun or any other note worthy occasion) we behaved badly by most standards, but we perceived it as merely having “fun”.
But this story is not about the weekend per se, but the geographical location and time and place on the planet. Like most encounters we have in life, sometimes the details and coincidences are simply amazing! Having parted with my fellow grads, two of us alone returned to Camp Lejune in my 1971 Gran Torino.
We headed south on Interstate 95 the main corridor between New York and Florida. Somewhere in the State of Virginia we had a brief and momentary encounter with a light blue Opal Cadet. Now the Cadet was a small sporty looking car, to my eye. Maybe it was because the car was similar in color to my car, maybe it was the “Base Sticker” on the bumper we recognized as being from LeJune, what ever the case, as we began to over take the car I said to my buddy, “Hey look, Marines from LeJune.” The two Marines in the car looked over at us and we exchanged waves and that was that…on we drove.
Now since I am taking you along on this ride, let’s enjoy the trip to North Carolina for a bit. I-95 is a wonderfully long drive. 17 hours was a good “Swoop” from LeJune to New York. A “Swoop” is what the Marines called a non stop trip any where you made a long trip on the weekend trying to make it home or to some exotic place within the confines of Friday at knock off and Monday morning at muster. The military holds a dim view of being late and the consequences are usually a bit more than docking you for a few minutes wage. But I digress here. Being young and in those days prone to many poor choices and decisions we found ourselves making the return swoop with no money left as a result of our weekend of revelry.
In those days, I was a smoker and like most all who smoke was truly in bondage to the cigarette. We had plotted out our fuel resources in the most advanced of scientific calculations available to us as members of the US Navy’s finest Corps…”Think we have enough gas to get back? I don’t know, maybe?” We made a decision to spend our last bit of change on a pack of cigarettes, instead of food or gas. The food thing we took care of by going into McDonald’s and grabbing packets of Ketchup and feasting on the contents for the rest of the trip! I only throw this in to reveal the true adaptability and resourcefulness of the American Fighting man!
OK, back on task. I drop my buddy off at Lejune where he will pick up is next assignment and I stop by Medical Division Headquarter and pick up my orders. Prior to graduation I was approached by the Detailers who gave people their assignment after graduation…only, I was taken aside and asked if I would like to “volunteer” for a “special duty” station. Being I had already spent two years out in the fleet in the Mediterranean and had experience compared to most of my classmates who were fresh out of “Corps School” before going to Field Med School, I was approached for an independent duty assignment. Meaning; I was going to be alone out in the sticks with a group of 80 Marines on a base called Oak Grove with the MOOSE Program located near Pollocksville, North Carolina about 50 miles north of Lejune. http://moose-oakgrove.org/
A couple of days later I head north and find the base with little trouble and pull into the little base which was an abandoned USMC Airstrip and training center for Marine Aviators back in the 1940’s. As I drive up and park my car, I see this little Blue Opal Cadet in the parking lot and see this fellow who I recognize walking toward me with the same astonished look on his face! What are the odds?!?!!?! It was one of the guys from the freeway encounter! JC and I became close friends after this, we passed by each other on the highway hundreds of miles from this location and found ourselves here, on the same base! We made that same swoop a number of times together after that as he was from New York and well, that is just what you do on the weekend when you save your pennies.
JC was my first friend I met that day, Ski, Jimmy, Briz, Schmitty, Whit, Maggie, Dale, “R”, Willy, Harv, Mac, Pritch, Tony, the list is extensive. A fair number of us have kept in touch and we continue to keep in touch to this day, the advent of the Internet has made that possible. We spent a relatively short period of time together, but the bonds that were established have made us friends for life.
This story was about a chance meeting on the highway. Not just the passing of a car, but a few seconds of interaction that for what ever the reason we remembered and a few days later we met again, face to face. Quiet the incredible coincidence wouldn’t you say?
Semper Fi Brothers!
January 27th, 2010 at 10:46 pm