JULY 4TH IS FOR CELEBRATING OUR FREEDOM!!

July 4 fell on a Monday in 1955.  Both stores in the Southwest Mississippi crossroads community of Caseyville were open regular hours – sun-up until sun-down.  Although there were no fireworks, locals felt a tinge of patriotism – they were sending one of their own off to serve in the military.

Shortly after his thumb went in the air along the dusty gravel road, a passer-by picked him up for the 15-mile jaunt to the intersection of paved U.S. Highway 51.  Three kindly passers-by, 60 miles, and three hours later, he reached the Marine Corps Reserve Center in Jackson, Mississippi.

After sleeping on the Reserve Center floor overnight, he was sworn into the Marine Corps and given a one-way train ticket to Yemassee, South Carolina – dropping off point for Parris Island – and all things civilian.

GRADUATION DAY FROM PARRIS ISLAND -- SEPTEMBER, 1955

Stateside postings after Parris Island would include Camp Lejeune, Great Lakes Naval Station, San Diego, Camp Pendleton, El Toro and Cherry Point.

Fast forward to 1959.  July 4 came on a Saturday.  By Friday, the Caseyville boy was all set to leave Marine Corps Air Station, Cherry Point, North Carolina.  However, after serving four years at the convenience of the government, it appeared he would serve a day at the convenience of the Provost Marshall -- who did not work on Saturdays.

But the Provost had a big heart – those in line for discharge could jump-start civilian life over the weekend.  The Caseyville-bound 1954 pink & crème, two-door Ford hardtop was on Highway 70 in a heartbeat.  Memories have faded, but he probably passed through Greensboro, North Carolina about midnight.

By daybreak, the Ford wasn’t out of gas, but the driver was.  Fortunately, a hitch-hiking Sailor had come aboard.  He had dozed through the mountains and into Tennessee, but was roused up under the pretense of seeing Rock City -- and drive the Ford on to Jackson, Mississippi while the owner dozed.

Just under 1000 miles and 24 hours later -- the Sailor had caught another ride and continued westward – the Caseyville boy was home again.

The journey afforded him more than ample time to reflect on previous July 4 holidays.

July 4, 1956 found him recently promoted from marksmanship instructor to butt NCO at Marine Corps Schools, Quantico, Virginia.  I’m glad you asked, it involves a Marine Corps proverb, “Those who fire at targets must also pull targets for other shooters while they fire.” 

Targets are positioned in areas known as butts, strategically placed behind huge earthen mounds.  Shooters prone to fire into those earthen mounds are known as short-timers.  Butts are insufferably hot or cold, never in between.

July 4, 1957 found the Caseyville boy in Tokyo Bay, aboard the troopship, USS General A. E. Anderson.  Over the 18-day journey across the Pacific, the commanding officer of the Anderson was noticeably short on hospitality. 

Probably more from patriotism than kindness, he made a sizeable gesture on July 4, “You are now over the exact spot in Tokyo Bay where the USS Missouri anchored for surrender ceremonies ending World War II.”  Sixty years later, that would have been a selfie-feast!

The Navy did not ask Marines to complete comment cards, but they were impressed to be shown that watery mark of historicity.  In his memoir, the captain probably wrote, “Those Marines actually believed that’s where the Missouri anchored.”

July 4, 1958 found our guy at Atsugi Naval Air Station, a few miles inland from Yokohama and Yokosuka.  In the interim, he had made amphibious landing drills on Okinawa and set up communications centers at three locations in the Philippines.

Aboard the USS Princeton, he had turned from pollywog to shellback by crossing the Equator.  He had participated in a 7^th Fleet show of force off Borneo, Java and Sumatra, made a port call at Singapore, and assisted in flood relief at Ceylon (Sri Lanka).

If there is a bottom line to this piece, it is that the Caseyville boy is blessed and fortunate – he couldn’t have volunteered to serve his country in a more tranquil four years. 

He hasn’t looked at that as a pass to forget other peacetime veterans or those who served during World Wars I and II, Korea, Vietnam and the Gulf Wars to protect the freedom granted us on July 4, 1776.

That’s a primary reason he enjoys writing veterans articles for the Greensboro News & Record.  Join him in celebrating our nation’s birthday to the fullest on July 4, 2017! 

                  

HOLLYWOOD MARINE, BUT NOT BY CHOICE

Marines who go through recruit training at San Diego are often called “Hollywood  Marines.”  This referral comes almost exclusively from Marines who underwent “real” recruit training at Parris Island. 

EDWIN CANTER FIRST SAW WW II COMBAT AS A SEA-GOING MARINE

Edwin J. Canter was a Parris Island Marine who became a “Hollywood Marine” by the most unfortunate of circumstances.  “During the Invasion of Iwo Jima, our rocket truck lost its differential as we off-loaded onto the beach.  A tank towed us inland a ways – overnight, two of our men robbed a knocked-out truck of its differential -- we were in business again.

On my 14^th day as rocket crew chief, I was shot off the rocket truck by a Japanese sniper.  Rocket trucks always drew an angry fusillade of counter-battery fire, so my buddies knew they had to get me away from the launch site fast.

A U.S. Coast Guard motion picture crew happened to film my buddies as they tried to move me to a safer place.  However, when enemy shells started coming in, my buddies dropped me and dove for cover.    I was wounded again, this time by shrapnel -- the two Coast Guardsmen were killed.”

CANTER BEING MOVED TO SAFER PLACE AFTER BEING HIT BY SNIPER

Canter underwent surgery on the beach and was placed aboard a hospital ship which took him to a hospital on Guam.  He was later moved to a hospital in Hawaii, and finally to hospitals in Oakland, California and Norfolk, Virginia.

 

Even though the film crew perished, the film survived and made its way into numerous newsreels in the states.  The sequence eventually became part of the 1949 movie, “Sands of Iwo Jima,” starring John Wayne. 

U.S. COAST GUARD FILM SEQUENCE USED IN SANDS OF IWO JIMA
CPL EDWIN CANTER KEYED IN NAMES OF EACH ROCKET CREW MEMBER

Now in his 97^th year, Edwin Canter is the most improbable of “Hollywood Marines.”

His demeanor is much more akin to an educator than Marine – as it should.  After graduating from Appalachian State University, he served Wilkes County Schools for 35 years – eight as a teacher, and 27 as a principal.

An undergraduate and master’s degree isn’t all he received as a Mountaineer.  While they were college seniors, he and a Forest City coed, Ruth Bridges, were married in June, 1948. 

One daughter, Rachel Canter Yarbrough, and her husband, Jack, live in Greensboro.  They have two children – Ryan and Rebecca.

Canter was born on the last day of December, 1920, in North Wilkesboro, North Carolina, and graduated from Millers Creek High School in 1938. 

He hasn’t strayed far from his mountain roots, excluding his travels as a World War II Marine.  He makes his home nowadays on Brushy Mountain Road in Moravian Falls, North Carolina.

“I joined the Marine Corps in Winston-Salem on July 7, 1942.  After boot camp, I went to Sea School, after which I went aboard USS Santa Fe.  We entered combat against the Japanese in the Aleutian Islands in July, 1943.  We bombarded Attu and Kiska initially and supported the U.S. landing at Kiska in August, 1943.  Marines manned 20 millimeter gun turrets on the cruiser -- it wasn’t long before I had a perforated ear drum.  After that, we spent four months patrolling the area to prevent Japanese naval operations,” Canter recalls.

After Canter’s tour on the Santa Fe, he completed infantry training at Camp Elliott in California.  From there, he shipped out to Camp Beaumont, on Hawaii’s Oahu Island, where he underwent 4.5 inch rocket training.  Upon completion of that training, he was assigned to the 1^st Rocket Detachment, 4^th Marine Division – destinations Saipan, Tinian, and Iwo Jima.

Iwo Jima was the deadliest battle in history for the Marine Corps, almost 7000 Marines were killed in action.  Canter and his Rocket Detachment went ashore on D-Day, February 19, 1945.  Four days into the battle, the Stars and Stripes went up on Mount Suribachi.  Ten days later, Rocket Crew Chief Edwin Canter went down.  Even though the battle for Iwo Jima would go on until March 26 -- for Corporal Canter, the war was over. 

In addition to his purple heart (he should have been awarded two purple hearts), his Marine Corps decorations include presidential unit citations for Saipan, Tinian and Iwo Jima; Navy unit commendation for Iwo Jima; and the Asiatic-Pacific Campaign ribbon with four stars.

ONLY TWO OF CANTER'S IWO JIMA ROCKET CREW SURVIVE
"I HAVEN'T BEEN ABLE TO REACH THE OTHER SURVIVOR IN SEVERAL WEEKS,
AND I AM WORRIED ABOUT HIM," SAYS CANTER

It would be difficult for a single Wilkes County resident to have missed meeting Edwin J. Canter over his 96 years.  He was inducted into the Wilkes County Hall of Fame in 2015. 

His associations include the Veterans of Foreign Wars Post 1142, Disabled American Veterans, Wilkes Business and Professional Club, American Legion, Kiwanis Club, Wilkes County Retired Teachers Association, and Marine Corps League.

A charter member of the Brushy Mountain Fire Department and Brushy Mountain Ruritan Club, he is an active member of Wilkesboro United Methodist Church, where he has been a member since 1959.

MUSIC MAJOR WITH UNUSUAL CAREER PATH

Having known Bob Mays for several years on the Greensboro senior golf circuit, it was surprising to learn his first real job was teaching high school music in Aurora, Ohio.  “I put on the first minstrel show in those parts.  The folks there had never seen anything like that before, they ate it up,” he recalls.

Sensing the surprise remained, he presented his college diploma – East Carolina Teachers College, BS in music education.  

VOCALIST BOB MAYS AND BAND LEADER DON TREXLER

Next were photos performing with the Don Trexler Singers, and others singing with opera star, Beverly Sills.  “I had the captain’s role in H.M.S. Pinafore at the Lyric Theater at the Town Hall,” he added.  I was a believer long before he mentioned his longtime involvement with the Greensboro Oratorio Society.

Mays grew up in Hopewell, Virginia, where he played football, ran track, and worked part-time at the post office.  He had never heard of ECTC scholastically, but had heard the school had loads of good looking girls. 

Post-war dormitory rooms were in short supply.  As a freshman, Mays and a buddy rented a room in the home of a Greenville lawyer and Congressman.  As an ECTC senior, Mays married Lina Weddington, the lawyer’s daughter.  Lina Mays died in 1997.  The Mays’ progeny includes two children, three grands, and four great-grandchildren.

Mays doesn’t fit the mold of the typical music major.  He had joined the Marine Corps in 1943 on his 18^th birthday.  His stops in the South Pacific included Guadalcanal, Pavuvu, New Caledonia, and Okinawa.  In a surprising match of experience and training, Mays was assigned to Headquarters Postal Section.

On Easter Sunday, 1945 – Okinawa D-Day -- Mays learned stretcher-bearers and riflemen were more in demand that postal personnel.  “For weeks, I helped bring back wounded Marines from the front to the shore and placed them on boats bound for hospital ships.  It was a long, laborious process – so many of them didn’t make it.  What we would have given for helicopters to do what we did!” 

While the loss of many Marines and soldiers on Okinawa still wears on Mays, he remains empathetic towards the U.S. Navy, “The kamikaze attacks were devastating.  We spent many nights in foxholes watching our ships defend themselves.  Sometimes, it was as if a fireworks display was being put on just for us.”

After the island had been secured, Mays returned to his postal chores, “Some troops had not received mail in over sixty days.  Huge stacks of mail had accumulated.  We eventually got it distributed and made lots of Marines happy.”

About the time mail call was caught up, training began for the invasion of Japan.  That became moot when the atomic bomb dropped in August, 1945.

If Mays thought the formal surrender of Japan meant a ticket home, he was wrong.  His unit boarded a troopship bound for China, where thousands of armed and undefeated Japanese soldiers awaited repatriation.  Duty as a China Marine was enjoyable for Mays, he was back in the postal section again.

In March, 1946, Mays was discharged.  He planned to enjoy Hopewell for the spring and summer.  The Hopewell post office had other plans, “They found out I was home and told me to come back to work immediately.  We only had one rural route and only two of us knew where everyone lived – the other guy hadn’t had a vacation since I left.”

Back at ECTC, Mays was vocalist for the dance band and selected to Who’s Who Among College Students.  He was befriended by the president of the college, Leo Jenkins, who had also been a World War II Marine.  Jenkins befriended other Marines as well.  “He even signed us up as an unorganized Marine Corps Reserve Unit.”

Then came the Korean War – the unorganized group of Marine Corps Reservists were called back on active duty.  “I spent two years at Camp Lejeune, primarily teaching GED English and math skills.”

After his brief career as a music teacher, Mays joined New Dixie Lines, a Richmond, VA trucking company owned by a cousin.  He became operations manager for NC, which brought him to Greensboro. 

Mays joined Pennisi Insurance Company and eventually became part owner.  He purchased the company upon Pennisi’s untimely death in 1969.  The business was quite successful over the years.  Of the many honors Mays has received, his recognition as ECU Alumni of the Year in 1973 is his favorite.  In 1999, Mays sold his agency to BB&T.

It was a cold, snowy day when I visited Bob Mays.  Multiple Zebco fishing outfits were rigged, ready and stashed in the living room – evidently for warmth.  On a wall nearby was a mounted largemouth bass of trophy dimensions.   “I know of an old mill pond up the road that is absolutely loaded with big bass like this,” he excused.

MAYS PREFERS FISHING OVER GOLF NOWADAYS

Mays is a member of Irving Park United Methodist Church.  Yes, he has a longtime affiliation with the choir.

MODERN DAY MARINE

Never underestimate the importance of a highway sign. 

While stationed at Camp Lejeune in 1991, Dan Clark read from a sign that Greensboro was an All-America City. “I came here often, Greensboro may not be world renowned as a liberty town, but compared to Jacksonville...”  Upon his discharge in 1992, Clark settled in his favorite liberty town.

PARRIS ISLAND GRADUATE

Clark joined the Marine Corps at 17, after his parents signed the approval papers, “I had to wait several months for an opening at Parris Island, but left my hometown on Christmas Day, 1988.”  After Boot Camp and Radio School, Clark completed deployments as a field radio operator on Okinawa and in Korea before receiving orders to Camp Lejeune, NC.

Almost immediately after arriving, Clark deployed to the Persian Gulf area as a radio operator with the 10^th Marines in preparation for Desert Storm.  “We spent eight months practicing amphibious assaults and field exercises in various Gulf countries.  Compared to the build-up, the war was over in the blink of an eye, but friendships built during those times will last a lifetime.”

Clark wasted no time acclimating to Greensboro.  On his way to a Guilford College degree in political science, he first graduated from GTCC.  All the while, he worked as a part-time tire salesman for Sears and later as full-time Auto Center supervisor until he became store manager of the Sears-owned National Tire & Battery Store in Winston-Salem.

“Even though I thoroughly enjoyed college and working at Sears, I truly missed the Marine Corps.”  Clark found the perfect compromise – the Marine Corps Reserve.  After joining the Reserves in 1993 he was assigned to the Greensboro-based Marine Corps Reserve Unit.

Over the next several years Clark deployed to locations around the world, including Germany, Norway and the Arctic Circle before deploying in 2003 with the Greensboro Reserve unit for Operation Iraqi Freedom as Data Communications Chief.

DAN CLARK PROGRESSED THROUGH LEADERSHIP POSITIONS
IN RADIO, COMPUTERS & INFORMATION TECHNOLOGY

After returning from Iraq, Clark served in several locations around the country, fulfilling the duties of Data Communications Chief and later Company First Sergeant, which brought him full circle back to Greensboro.   

After successful tours as First Sergeant in Greensboro and later Tampa, Florida, he was promoted to Battalion Sergeant Major and completed tours of duty in Newport News, Virginia as well as Aurora, Colorado and Fort Worth, Texas.

In May, 2016 Clark reported to the Marine Corps Reserve Unit in Charlotte for his final tour.  He will face mandatory retirement in May, 2018 after completing 30 years of military service -- at the age of 47.

Clark is the first to admit that the Marine Corps isn’t for everyone, “I joined straight out of high school from the small town of Kissimmee, Florida.  Since I did not have grades, money, or focus for college, the Marine Corps looked to be a way I could grow up, prove my mettle, gain work experience, and travel beyond Florida and Mickey Mouse.”  

It seems to have done all of that for him.

One other tidbit about Reserve service – mandatory attendance, “Admittedly, my commutes were longer and more complicated than most, but I wouldn’t have had it any other way.  Long weekends of Reserve duty made Monday mornings especially tough, and duty in the summer sometimes came at the worst possible times.”

When asked about social media’s impact on warfighting, Clark responded “Instant communication is here to stay, but I’ve seen it get too many Marines in trouble, albeit unintentional.  Elements of combat can be taken out of context – the horrors of war don’t need videoing back home or posted on social media.”

Suspecting Clark had no time for hobbies, he surprisingly admitted to saltwater fishing and running as two of his favorite pastimes, completing two Marine Corps Marathons and numerous other events.  In addition, he and his wife Kathy have organized multiple 5K and 10K fundraising events for Hope for the Warriors and other charitable causes.

DAN CLARK -- 2016 -- TWO YEARS FROM RETIREMENT

Sergeant Major Clark has served in every enlisted rank and two wars during his career. He has seen several generations of Marine recruits come and go.  He has a chest-full of personal decorations, and the ethos of a Marine recruiter, “Where else could a young kid lead Marines into battle, handle multi-billion dollar equipment, or fly fighter jets -- all for the good of our country?  

Nowhere!”

RICHARD CRAPSE -- MAN OF MANY SERVICES

Richard Crapse’s military service shadow box could be confusing at a quick glance.  It contains medals, decorations and awards from the Civil Air Patrol, the Marine Corps, the National Guard and the Air National Guard – all of which were stepping stones to his military retirement.

His Marine Corps service came first, 1965-1971.  “Our St. Petersburg, Florida High School senior classes cycled around the services – one year, most joined the Air Force, next year the Navy, etc.  My year was the Marine Corps’ year.”

NEWLY-WEDS KATHLEEN & RICHARD CRAPSE -- 1969

That was also the year recruit training at Parris Island was shortened from 12 weeks to eight weeks, “All that did was shorten the time between being a civilian and serving in Vietnam by one month – the Parris Island experience remained the same.”

Actually, Crapse was given a choice between Arctic Survival Training or Vietnam, “I didn’t figure a Florida boy would fare well in the Arctic, so by year end, I was lobbing 105mm howitzer shells into the Vietnam jungle.

Our guns were of World War II vintage and needed rebuilding after firing 50,000 rounds.  Several big wheels came out in the jungle to our battery to congratulate us upon firing our 100,000^th round – at 150,000 rounds we were withdrawn for refitting on Okinawa.”

As for World War II, Crapse recalls eating C Rations of that vintage as well, “They still tasted OK.”

From Okinawa, Crapse made brief stops in the Philippines and Taiwan before his 105mm battery was assigned to a Battalion Landing Team operating from an LST off Vietnam, “With amtracs, helicopters and small boats, we could do about any type mission.  We took casualties of all sorts – from enemy fire, friendly fire, and others from crashes and accidents.

At times, North Vietnam artillery was incoming from our front and big guns from the Navy were incoming from our rear.  Those were the times I wondered how it was in the Arctic!

During one operation, we were too far inland to resupply from the beach and the jungle too thick for helicopters to land, so we had to improvise.  We took five-gallon cans to a river for water, and made a bath call while there.  The enemy jumped us in our birthday suits, but we had enough Colt 45s close by to ward them off.”

While Crapse was flown into Vietnam in an air-conditioned airliner with stewardesses, getting out was more complex, “Offshore, aboard a Navy ship, I was told I had been rotated and that a helicopter would pick me up.  It never showed and the small boat I could have caught left the ship before my gear could be loaded. 

I was finally helicoptered to Da Nang, but my orders could not be located.  I missed the short-timer flight from Okinawa by one day.  While in the waiting mode, a typhoon came through and blew away the shed in which my seabag had been stored.  Most of my personal gear and uniforms were lost.

After traveling on emergency orders, I reached Travis Air Force Base and eventually made it to safe haven at Camp Lejeune.”

Later, Crapse interviewed for duty at Marine Barracks, Washington, D.C., home of the Marine Corps Band and ceremonial drill teams.  “I told them, no thanks, but they told me it was an order, not an invitation.

I was honored to be at Marine Barracks, but did not want to stay, so I signed waivers to go back to Vietnam.  Instead, they sent me to Jacksonville, Florida, where I signed more waivers to go back to Vietnam.  This time they worked, but only got me as far as Okinawa and Japan for a year or so.”

It was back to Camp Lejeune in 1971, where Crapse was again ordered to Washington, D.C. – this time to quell Mayday protests.  “We were dropped into the Mall to take back the Washington Monument from protesters – the Park Police had given it up and taken cover inside the Monument.

The next day’s Washington Post identified us as secret storm troops.”

Crapse admits that his time at Marine Barracks wasn’t all bad, “I escorted six girls to an Evening Parade one Friday evening.  I shuffled five of them off to buddies, but kept one for myself – Kathleen Pummer, from Allentown, Pennsylvania, and I have been married 47 years.”

RICHARD & KATHLEEN CRAPSE -- 2016

Kathleen has a master’s and law degree from Campbell University.  Her law practice was in Reidsville, where they have lived for the past 24 years.  Richard Crapse has worked in law enforcement and the Greensboro Housing Authority.

 

      

PARRIS ISLAND PRIMER

Reading and writing about the Marine Corps is a passion for me.  Without argument, my brother joining the Marine Corps when I was six years old had lots to do with that passion.

PLATOON 76 EXCELLED ON THE RIFLE RANGE -- MANY OF US
BECAME RIFLE COACHES AT QUANTICO, INSTRUCTING MARINE
CORPS OFFICERS HOW TO FIRE THE M-1, BAR & COLT 45

I can’t say that I learned to read by reading about the Marine Corps, but reading about the Marine Corps was a top priority after I did learn to read.

Without argument, I learned a lot about writing by writing about the Marine Corps.  There should be an adage -- you learn to write best by writing from your heart. 

Even though I’ve come close to heart-writing on articles over the years pertaining to Memorial Days, Veterans Days and Marine Corps Birthdays, I’ve never really, really written about the Marine Corps experience from the depth of my heart.

Until now.

That hesitancy has to do with advice given me by a pastor-friend of years past, “Life comes down to three major choices – your vocation, your partner for life, and alignment for your after-life.”

He was as wise as indicated by the stream of initials that trailed his name.  However, either from a sheltered background or academic naiveté, he failed to account for guys at my juncture, who were incapable of making such heady choices.

While family and a covey of earlier pastors helped me along with my after-life alignment, only the Marine Corps could have conditioned me to make sound choices in the areas of choosing a vocation and a partner for life.

Good grades came easy for me, even though I goofed off in high school and my first two years of college.  Parris Island was pre-destined to be my first real test.

I suspect a good number of family and friends seriously doubted I had the heart to make it through boot camp, a premise strongly articulated by my drill instructor, just after passing the point of no return (Yemassee, SC).

To that point, the piece of gum I swallowed after the DI expressed his strong disfavor, was the last piece of gum that ever entered my mouth. 

Records say I reported to Parris Island July 7, 1955 and departed September 23, 1955, seventy-seven days inclusively. 

GRADUATION DAY @ PARRIS ISLAND, SEPT1955
FELLOW GRADUATE FROM CO-LIN, JIMMIE RODGERS
BEING AWARDED, HARRY THETFORD IS NEXT

Stated another way, for seventy-six evenings, I thanked the Lord for another day of survival.  And, wondered to myself if I had the heart to make it one more day.  And, on the seventy-seventh evening, I thanked Him for life itself. 

While “goofing off” in college was a skill set for me, Parris Island Drill Instructors deleted that from my persona in microseconds.  Instantaneously, I tried to do my very best in every respect of boot camp.  I wanted to be the first to fall in for formation.  I’m a slow eater, but was never, never last out of the chow hall.

I learned how and when to respond vociferously, and how and when to remain very quiet.  I tried to jump higher, run faster, last longer, shoot better, memorize faster, and spit-shine glossier than all others. 

I learned this was a lost cause unless I helped all others jump, run, last, shoot, memorize and spit-shine as well as I could.

I could say it was OK for sand fleas to chew on me, since that meant buddies standing nearby were being spared.  I could, but that would be a huge lie.   

If the Marine Corps wanted to teach me something, I wanted to learn it.  Again, a moot point unless all others learned it as well.

Did this make me the best man of the sixty-nine graduating Recruits in our platoon?  Far from it!  Sixty-eight others had the same aspirations.  Most of these aspirations were drill instructor-inspired, but a covert group always took up any slack.

That “covert group” persona has probably been around since 1^ST LT Pressley O’Bannon put the initial unit of Marines together in 1775.  It exemplifies the Marine Corps.  

 

After boot camp, we learned the Marine Corps already had a term for this covert group mentality that no Marine should be left behind.  They called it, “Esprit de Corps”!

In today’s vernacular, the Marine Corps left me with an attitude.  While I never had an eagle, globe and anchor tattooed on my arm, the same three items tattooed on my heart are holding up quite well.      

It isn’t fair to say that everything I’ve learned, I learned from the Marine Corps.  There is no question that everything I’ve learned has been brought into sharper focus by my Marine Corps experience.  

This isn’t a puff piece for the Corps, and no apologies are offered for those from other services with equal or better experiences – just words from one Marine’s heart –  well over a half century after the fact.

Every Marine has a story.  I recently golfed with a retired Army veteran with thirty years’ service.  He noticed my surprise to see his car loaded out with Marine Corps decals and paraphernalia. 

He explained, “I spent a hitch in the Marines before I went Army!”  On the way home that afternoon, I knew it was time to write my Marine Corps heart article.  

God bless America, and God bless the USMC, it’s never been a greater time to be “One of the Few!”

ESPRIT DE CORPS ON PARADE

As for conundrums, a recent visit to the nation’s capital developed into one with top ten proportions.  Should I risk readers’ fatigue by writing yet another column slanted towards the Marine Corps?  Or should I take a pass on writing about a most fascinating   piece of Americana less traveled?

There is some logic in the “less traveled” element, inasmuch as the locale for this particular bit of fascinating Americana is deep in the heart of Southeast Washington, D.C.  Suffice it to say, the area stops short of Pleasant Garden serenity.

It is amazing how hundreds of strategically deployed dress-blued Marines can influence the peace quotient of a neighborhood trending gangster.  This particular neighborhood is known simply as, “8^th & I,” the confluence of two Southeastern D.C. streets.  It could also be known by its background music – perpetual alarms and sirens.

More specifically, it is ground zero for Marine Barracks Washington, the oldest post of the Marine Corps. It has been the home of “The President’s Own,” U.S. Marine Band since 1801 and the home of every Marine Corps Commandant since 1806. 

Marine Corps Band at Evening Parade August 21, 2015

The Home of the Commandants was one of the few buildings not burned by the British when they raided the Capitol in 1814, possibly because of soldierly respect between Royal Marines and U.S. Marines.

JUST ONE OF THE OUTSTANDING MARINES I MET AT THE EVENING PARADE.
SGT MAJ BRYAN BATTAGLIA, AS THE ADVISOR/ASSISTANT TO THE CHAIRMAN OF JOINT CHIEFS OF STAFF, IS THE SENIOR NCO IN THE U.S. ARMED FORCES

Evening Parades are held each summer Friday.  Attendance is free, reservations are made online at www.barracks.marine.mil, but supply is often not up to demand – only 3500 seats are available.  Unclaimed bleacher seats are given on a first come, first served, basis.  Offsite parking and free shuttle services are offered.  For the brave at heart, the site is just four blocks from Metro access.

Don’t get this confused with Sunset Parades on summer Tuesdays – very similar in content and performed by the same Marines, but at the Marine Corps War Memorial across the Potomac.  Admission, parking, shuttles and performance are free – bring a lawn chair or sit on the grass.

Just as the Washington Nationals have their ceremonial first pitch, so do the 8^th & I Marines.  However, their pitch is with M-1 rifles instead of baseballs.  M-1 pitching (with fixed bayonets) is a core syllabus for the Silent Drill Team’s contribution to the Evening Parade.  A variety of intricate marching and arms movements are flawlessly presented, all without oral commands.  My guess – they could do it blind-folded just as well.

By the same token, the Marine Band didn’t need sheet music – many of the marches they performed were written by their former director, John Phillip Sousa.  The “Washington Post March” and “Stars and Stripes Forever” come to mind.

Drum beats and bugle calls have come a long way since field musicians were used to pass commands and signals to warriors in battle formations.  The 80-strong Marine Drum and Bugle Corps is known as “The Commandant’s Own.”  These Marines make martial music comparable to the band while marching and maneuvering as adeptly as does the Silent Drill Team.

Supporting the Band, Drum and Bugle Corps and Silent Drill Team in the Evening Parade are two infantry companies.  Each Marine is about six feet tall.  Each one stands rigidly at parade rest for over an hour before “Passing in Review,” their moment of glory.

We should not forget Chesty, the most famous English Bulldog at 8th & I.  He was presented with pomp and circumstance as the official Marine Corps mascot.  Even with his globe and anchor shawl, his appearance was less than warrior-like.  That is not a problem, given his namesake, Lieutenant General Lewis “Chesty” Puller.  With five Navy Crosses, Puller was the most decorated Marine warrior of all.     

Post-ceremony, cuddly, lovable and Marine-like Chesty was the runaway leader in hugs, rubs, pats and selfies.

By now, it should be obvious the “Evening Parade” is no garden variety street parade.  Given the pageantry involved, “Evening Pageant” might be more appropriate – excepting that neither pageantry nor pageant are Marine Corps speak.

“Spit and Polish” is vintage Marine Corps speak, but could bring some question about crudeness and/or Poland’s involvement.

So, the “Evening Parade” is what it is.  It is the most famous ceremony performed by U.S. Marines.  Spectators often find it to be an emotional experience.  Some look at it as a patriotic pilgrimage.   For overt military excellence, discipline and professionalism, it has no peer.

Taps, blown by a solitary bugler – spot-lighted high atop a darkened rampart -- sends spectators on their way with an indelible understanding of “Esprit de Corps.”  President Ronald Reagan may have said it best, “I wish every American could see the Evening Parade and share the magnificent experience we had.” 

Ol'Harry

ONCE A MARINE, ALWAYS A MARINE

Major General H. Lloyd Wilkerson, U. S. Marine Corps (Ret.) is a decorated combat veteran of World War II, Korea and Vietnam.  He is in his 96^th year.  I first wrote about him in these pages in 2009.  We have visited and chatted often over the past six years.  The notes are piling up – 750 words weren’t enough in 2009, and woefully short in 2015.

Wilkerson, the son of a West Tennessee dirt farmer, was 14 when his father died.  He says he will never forget his mother’s pronouncement to him the day after the funeral on January 1, 1934, “You are now the head of the family.”

Formal education for Wilkerson and his younger sister seemed out of the question.  Eventually, the 67-acre family farm was lost.  Mrs. Wilkerson resorted to domestic work to keep the family afloat.

Per Wilkerson, “My mother was a super strong person -- her work ethic, coupled with support and assistance from Masonic brothers of my father, made it possible for both my sister and me to graduate from Erskine College in South Carolina.” 

Wilkerson was three semester hours short of graduation when Pearl Harbor was attacked.  Even though he had sufficient education to be commissioned, he enlisted in the Marine Corps as a private in January, 1942.

Over the next 36 years, Wilkerson advanced from private to major general.  His responsibilities grew from leading an eight-man squad on Guadalcanal to commanding the Corps’ largest post, Camp Lejeune.  Later, he concurrently commanded the 3^rd Marine Division and the III Marine Amphibious force while overseas.

While posted in Pocatello, Idaho, Wilkerson met and later married Jeanne Coffin, the daughter of a U.S. Congressman.  She was a descendant of the iconic Coffin family of Quakers which operated the Underground Railroad from Greensboro to Indiana before the War Between the States.

After 69 years of marriage, Jeanne Coffin Wilkerson passed away in 2014.  Three Wilkerson sons survive – Tom, Dick and Fred.  Appreciating that I wore three stripes and General Wilkerson wore two stars, I did not ask why the name, “Fred” was chosen instead of “Harry.”

Each of the three Wilkerson sons is worthy of their own column.  Fred is a retired chef and Richard is Chairman and President Emeritus of Michelin North America, the largest of the Michelin international companies.  But, the eldest son’s career path best fits our genre of writing about veterans.

Tom Wilkerson and his wife recently drove down from their Northern Virginia home to visit General Wilkerson.  I was with the general when he took his son’s approach call by speaker-phone, “Hello, my dad, we are 100 miles out, see you soon.” 

This call wasn’t atypical -- General Wilkerson talked often of his sons.  I knew Tom had graduated from the U.S. Naval Academy in the Class of 1967.  I also knew Peter Pace (16^th Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff) was in the same class – and that Tom and Peter made brigadier general at the same time – fathers notice small details such as these.

I knew Tom Wilkerson and Peter Pace both chose to take their USNA commissions as Marine Corps officers.  While Pace leaned towards infantry, Wilkerson became an aviator and fighter pilot.  He was a graduate of the U.S. Naval Fighter Weapons School (Top Gun) and a weapons/tactics instructor early in his career.

Later, Tom Wilkerson was an exchange pilot with the Royal Air Force, commanded a Marine Corps Fighter Squadron and was a veteran of Operation Desert Storm.  At the time of his retirement in 1998, he led the largest command in the Marine Corps – over 100,000 Marines, located at over 200 sites.

Notes taken from my discussions with his father add to the remarkableness of Tom Wilkerson’s Marine Corps career, “When he was young, Tom did not always apply himself.  I think he would have been a zoot-suiter if I had allowed it!  Finally, I told him to shape up, work hard, or enlist in the military – but not as a Marine!  He followed my advice, and upon his graduation from the Naval Academy, he asked my permission to take his commission as a Marine – I said yes.”

A continuing thread of leadership in military and veterans’ advocacies began after Tom Wilkerson retired from the Marine Corps.  He served as President and Chief Executive Officer of both the U.S. Naval Institute (USNI) and the Congressional Medal of Honor Foundation.  He currently holds the same position with the National Association for Uniformed Services (NAUS). 

He has appeared on Meet the Press, CNN, NPR, BBC and Fox News as a commentator on military affairs.

Just before I posted that they are the only Marine Corps father-son combination who retired as major generals, they informed me they are not.  But, they are the only pair whose paths to Marine leadership were in different specialties – father as infantry and son as a fighter pilot.

MAJOR GENERALS TOM & LLOYD WILKERSON U.S. MARINE CORPS (RET.)

Without argument, the Generals Wilkerson epitomize, “Once a Marine, always a Marine.” 

Ol'Harry