Heroes Carved In Stone

Heroes Carved In Stone
By Sabrina Stidham

I stood staring in awe as my gaze settled upon a black granite wall of memories.

As I stood there not a muscle in my body twitched, except for the rhythmic beating of my weary heart.

Before me, a great wall, with the names of Fathers, Sons, Brothers, Daughters; Soldiers; Heroes…carved in stone. As I looked at the granite I saw behind it. A scene of tangled jungles, mud covered boots, people crying, as their lives came to an unwritten end. On the ground I saw the bodies of fallen soldiers, bloody and cold from death. In my heart I felt their pain and fear, which lingered in their unforgotten souls.

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All I want for Christmas

Sgt Grit,

My name is Sara Figgins and a Christmas poem I wrote for Cpl Mark Olsen who is stationed in Camp Lejeune, North Carolina.

All I want for Christmas
Sara Figgins

All I want for Christmas,
Although your far away,
Is for you to know I think of you especially today,

All I want for Christmas,
Although your boots are filled with sand, Is for you to know I care about you in a far distant land,

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Marine Corps MOS and Training Questions

What are the Marine Corps MOS?

Try these links:
Enlisted MOS
Officer MOS

How do I become a Recon Marine?

Try these links:

What’s Infantry Training Like?

These are various answers we found on the web from other Marines:

“Line Company schedules vary at certain times. When your doing a work-up, Monday is the beginning with being trucked to the field, spending four days training, then being trucked (or heloed if your lucky) back to the barracks where you spend two hours cleaning gear and weapons. Then Friday is reserved for more weapons cleaning, as well as administration work, or classes on tactics. The weekends are usually free unless you pull duty.

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Pay Their Dues

Pay Their Dues
SITREP From Machete Alpha 6

(March 1995, Military magazine, PO Box 189490, Sacramento, CA, 95818)

The other day I had occasion to think about an old friend of mine, Major (Chaplain) Aloysius P. McGonigal…I’m not kidding, that was his real name. Father McGonigal with his real name. Father McGonigal with his smile and wonderful Irish brogue could have played Barry Fitzgerald’s part in a remake of an old Bing Crosby movie about Catholic priests. In combat he was one of those chaplains who had a calling to be with the troops…out where the body bags are filled…where that old saying “there are no atheists in the trenches,” means something…but that’s another story. He loved the troops…but never try to BS him.

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Patriotic Poetry dedicated to those who Protect Us

For our Protectors
by: Wendy Wirth
Poet and admirer of all who protect us
Ames, IA

Sgt Grit:
I just read your newsletter and would like to comment on Michelle Christman?s letter. I totally agree with her about the WWII memorial. I went to Washington, D.C. on the 9th of May. Even though this was to be my 3rd time visiting, I had never gone to any of the memorials. I had read that the WWII memorial was open somewhere, though my parents and brother kept insisting it wasn?t. On the 8th we went out there and I dragged them around the huge wall that surrounds the Washington Monument to the WWII memorial, and I was right it was open. It was a unique experience, I have the tendency to stop and let my eyes take things in, I seem to remember more that way. After we walked around the whole memorial, and saw the pillar for Iowa (my home state) we walked up the reflecting pool to the Lincoln Monument. On the way there we stopped at two more memorials. I?m not sure what the first one was called, it was round, sort of resembling the Jefferson, very cool, I happened to see it because I glanced over at a certain time. I don?t know why, I think it was God who wanted me to see it. The next one we stopped at was the Korean War Memorial, also very moving. On our way to a place to eat we stopped at the Vietnam Memorial, the Wall, as we were walking past it, we got the chance to view a crew inscribing a new name into it, it was an experience, I don?t actually have the words for it at the moment. I?d like to include a poem I wrote on my way back to the hotel that I believe my moving experience at the memorials helped me write.

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Untitled – by C/PO1 A.S.

by C/PO1 A.S.

A shadow of uncertainty overwhelmes my thoughts,
Stories of courage make it hard to swallow,
Tales of love lost brings tears to my eyes,
And in the end my life will follow.
I have waited to call it my own for years And soon I will have my chance To join the Few and the Proud Even though my family rants.
People before me have served their time
And though not all have come home,
They can all call themselves Marines
Without a trace of regret shown.
Soon I will be among them,
A leader leading the best.
Taking the baton from those before
Who are taking an unwilling rest.
I will make them all proud,
Proud of what they fought for,
So they it it wasn't in vain,
The freedom which they died for.

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You know the saying “every Marine is a rifleman,” well I am proof of it. I was stationed at Canp Pend. in Feb 1968 as a truck mechanic (3516), Tet was in full bloom. When the 27th Marines were sent to Viet Nam, I went along, as a grunt. From a mechanic to a grunt in a couple of hours. What a lot of people didn’t know was that the men of the 3rd Bn 27th Marines in Nam were mostly of non-grunt MOS’s. But that didn’t stop us from doing our jobs. One of our Marines was awarded the MOH, his name was Robert Burke(I believe he is the youngest person to win the MOH in Viet Nam)

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