I joined the Marine Corps no 5 March 1965, in Flint Michigan. I was sent to Detroit for a physical and testing two days later.  On 9 March I was on a plane to MCRD San Diego California.  I arrived San Diego early morning hours approximately 2am and was greeted by Marines with the Campaign covers, they spewed language that would shame a Sailor.  Now I was with other scum and maggots and we were loaded on cattle trailers. 

We arrived at MCRD Recruit Depot and were introduced to the yellow footprints. This was my first time standing at attention.  In turn we all entered the barbershop and had our heads shaved.  We were marched to the receiving barracks and issued buckets and scrub brushes, mattresses pillow and bedding.  We stowed our gear on the racks. We then were ordered to field day the barracks.  We didn’t do it right the first time so were ordered to clean the barracks again and when we finished we still didn’t get it right.

When daylight came we fell out in formation and marched to a warehouse where we were issued uniforms and boots.  We had seen daylight and darkness twice before we were allowed to sleep. We hit the rack at 10pm and were on our feet again at 4am.  The sleep was great.  This morning we were assigned to platoon 319 and now have our permanent Drill Instructors.  I had a whole new outlook on the situation that had put myself in.  The following weeks we did much physical training, marching, rifle drill and received shots and instructions on Marine Corps history, the Uniform Code of Military Justice and plenty of physical training. 

 In the 7^th week we went to the rifle range to qualify with the M-14 rifle.  We stayed in barracks and for the first time we were allowed to blouse our trousers.  We were no longer maggots, we had become terds.  Beginning to feel like a Marine!  We where at the range for a few days, pre-qualifying with the M-14.  One afternoon we were cleaning the squad bay and when we were told to secure, one of the other maggots asked me where to put a mop.  I answered him, and then hell broke loose.  The DI was pissed and said, ”I didn’t say you terds could talk” For our punishment we did 100 squat-thrusts.   We had been on the range that day and this point I am a tired and pissed terd. 

 We were ordered to fall out on the deck outside.   While we were in formation, the DI put us at ease and said, “the smoking lamp is lit for all you terds, except” me and the other squat-thrust maggot.   The DI went back into the squad bay and I lit a smoke.   The platoon Guide-on, requested permission to speak to the Drill Instructor!   The DI came to the balcony and said “what terd” Then the terd, (and I still remember his name) told the DI that I was smoking.

 The DI looked at me and said, “Are you smoking terd”.  I said, “Yes sir” He told me to “put in out and get up here”.  I took another drag off the smoke, threw it on the deck and put it out with my boot. When I reached the DI, he had that fierce look in his eyes that I had seen so often.   I don’t know how or why, I said, “if you touch me I’ll f*** you up” The DI stood back, threw his hands in the air and said, “You’re going to Correctional Custody boy”.  The DI ordered me to pack my gear and un-blouse my boots. I packed my sea bag and was marched to the Company Headquarters.  I stood outside the office at parade rest for a while, and then was directed to report to the Company Commander for an article 15.   I was sentenced to 14 days hard labor at CC.    I was then driven back to the MCRD and placed in the custody on the CC Instructors.   These guys would make a DI cringe.  They were just plain mean.

 I was ordered by one of the CC officers to take off my utilities. (So I could be searched)  I got that feeling that I had with the DI earlier, and I said “no sir” as I stood at attention, I was pushed, punched and browbeaten. I’m now wondering how I keep getting my dumb ass in these situations. The CC Marines then said “you take’em off or we will”   I stood at attention, saying nothing.  I didn’t know what else to do.  My heart was pounding and again I was pissed. 

 The CC instructors then ripped open my shirt and pulled it off my back, then popped the buttons on my trousers, they each grabbed a leg and when they pulled off my trousers I heard the crack of my elbows as I hit the concrete deck.  I was ordered to come to attention. While I stood at attention in my skivvies, the CC instructors took turns yelling and pushing, while this was going on I noticed another terd standing in front of a large mirror on the wall and he was crying.  Thinking about what has just happened to me, I wondered what they did to make him cry.  

After a few hours of continual harassment, I was ordered to stand in front of the mirror.  I thought (now I’ll find out what made the other terd cry) I stood in front of the mirror for about an hour, before we fell out for chow (keep in mind that these CC people never stopped yelling and harassing the prisoners)

We were marched to and from chow with no more sound than the cadence calls and our boots pounding the deck.  When we got back to the Quonset hut, I was ordered to stand in front the mirror again.  I stood there for about 3 more hours.  I had plenty of time to think. My foremost thought was how am I going get out of this hell.   At 2000, we all were ordered to hit the rack.  Things were quiet, one CC instructor sat at a desk and read quietly. 

At 0300 we were awakened by the sound of a shit can tumbling around on the deck.  We were ordered to attention by two fresh CCI’s, given a head call and ordered to draw our equipment.  The equipment consisted of a hard hat, safety glasses steel toe plates, a pike ax and a 16lb sledgehammer.

 We marched to a site of a building foundation concrete slab.  We were ordered to drop our gear.  The CCI gave instructions as to where each prisoner would start braking up the slab.  I was still being a hard ass and remained at attention when we were told to fall out and start work.  The CCI was in a rage.  After a bit of yelling and idle threats he ordered me to get on my back, raise my head and legs in the lift position.  I was only about 30 minutes into the leg lifts, when I seemed to be completely exhausted and feeling much pain in my muscles.  The CCI kicked me in the ribs because I dropped my feet to the deck.   I then told the CCI,  “I request Mast”  (I want to talk to the OIC.)    The CCI told me when the detail is over I would have that opportunity.

 In the mean while the CCI ordered one of the other prisoners to kick me if my boots touch the deck.   My legs are strained and I can’t hold them up any longer.  My boots did hit the deck; the prisoner kicked me in the ribs.  Now I’m totally pissed!   The CCI ordered me back into the leg lift position.  I complied with the order and I told the other prisoner, “ kick me again and I’ll break your legs” I dropped my boots to the deck, he kicked me.  I was on my back and at my side were the tools.  I grabbed the pick ax, swung and hit him across the shins with the handle.  He went down.  I stood up came to attention and said, “ I request Mast Sir”.  The CCI got in my face and said, “You should be shot” I said nothing from that point on.  I stood at attention until it was time to go back to lock-up.  We were ordered to stow our gear and then to come to attention at our racks when we were done. 

 When it was chow time the other prisoners were ordered to fall out and I was ordered to grab my gear and stand by.   I was then marched to a barracks and put in a room alone.   I had no idea what was going to happen to me.   I stayed in the room, looking out the window and thinking of how I got in this situation and how am I going to get out of it!  At  2200 the door opened and a Marine said to me “lights out, rack time” He turned around shut the door and left. 

 Thoughts were racing through my mind about what else was in store for me.  I start thinking, how can get out of here. I looked out the window and saw two fences between the building I was in and a highway.  The fences were about 10/12 ft high and about 200yards between them.  All the vehicles were gone from the parking lot outside except one.  I turned and went to the door, turned the knob and opened the door. I looked around and saw a Marine at the end of the hall. 

Now I have a plan!  I had $11.00 in my sea bag.  I put the money in my pocket, opened the door and hollered “Sir the private requests permission to speak to the Marine Sir!”  The Marine said what?   I requested to make a head call.  He told me where the head was and instructed me to return the room when I was done.   I went down the staircase and out the door, ran to the first fence and climbed over. I crouched down by the fence and looked around, saw my opportunity and made the dash for the second fence.  I climbed over and I in a few more steps I was off the base I ran to the nearest secluded street I could find and began walking. I had no idea where to go, but away from the base was for sure. 

As I was walking thru the dark streets and I met a civilian.  I asked him if he could tell me where I could find a bus station.  He gave me directions and told me that I would not be able to get on a bus dressed the way I was, (green utilities and a Marine Corps cover).  He suggested that I trade my uniform to him for civilian clothes.  We walked a few blocks to his place and we traded. I told him thanks and I was on my way towards the city lights. 

When I got in the town I noticed people were staring at me, because my hair was short and I had the distinctive tan line on my head of a Marine recruit. I went into a store and bought a hat to cover my tell tale look.  I had nothing to eat since noon chow and it was around midnight.  I got a hamburger and a soda from a restaurant and began walking down side streets and alleyways, trying to avoid attention while I ate my food.

 I started to cross some railroad tracks and a car pulled up next to me.  The light on top of their car started flashing and the driver told me to stop and don’t move.  I tried to explain that I was going to the bus station, but he wasn’t buying that story.  He told me to take off my hat. He looked at me said that I was a Marine recruit and that he knew that I was in boot camp.  We talked for a while, I explained how I screwed up and that I didn’t know what else to do except get away from the situation. He told me that he was a Marine once and that if  I didn’t go back I would be classified as a deserter and probably get a Dishonorable discharge after serving 6 months in the brig.  He called it 6, 6 and a kick!  After our conversation the Officer gave me a choice; said he would give me a ride to the Base or to the Bus station.

  He dropped me off at a guard post at the Base, it was still dark, early morning; I walked up to the Guard.  The Guard asked me “ can I help you”, I took of my hat and said, “I am a recruit and I am AWOL,” The guard told me to stand-by. Only a few minutes passed and Marine MP’s picked me up and delivered me back to the building I escaped from!   The same Marine was on duty that was there when I left. I thought he would be angry, but he simply said “ long head call” and told me to return to the room I was in.  My sea bag was gone and I waited in the room until daylight.

The Marine on duty walked me to the mess hall and I ate breakfast.  When we got back to the barracks, I was instructed to set outside an office. The sign above the door read, Physiological Unit.  The Marine entered the room, and after a few minutes came out and told me to go in and report to the Major! 

I stood in front of the Majors desk at attention and said “Private Terrian reporting as ordered Sir!”  He told me to “sit down and relax” He asked me questions as to the nature of my situation and I explained my situation.  After the discussion the Major told me that if I would do my best at CC that he would see if he could get my sentence reduced.  I figured that even if I had to serve 14 days at CC it was better than any other alternative that might face me if I didn’t go back.

I got back to CC just before afternoon chow; the prisoners were still out working.  The CCI welcomed me back, by saying we’ll see how long you last this time.  I was told to stand at attention by the rack. 

About an hour later the prisoners returned to the Quonset hut and they were dirty, sweaty and looked very tired.  They stowed their equipment and we all fell out for chow.  I stood out like a brand new penny as we marched to chow. I was the only clean prisoner in the formation. 

After chow we marched back to the area and drew our gear, the hardhat, toe plates, safety glasses, pick ax and the sledgehammer.  We were then marched to the foundation site that I had been at the day before.

 This time when the CCI told to me commence work, I began breaking up the slab.  The work was hard and I did get very tired, but I thought, 14 days and this will be over and I’ll be on my way to being a Marine.  For the next 4 days I busted up slabs like I was a human jackhammer.  Every day I became stronger. I actually felt good being so filthy and sweaty.  The CCI’s didn’t harass me any more than any other prisoner. I was doing my time.

On the 5^th day when we were back at the area and securing our equipment and forming up for noon chow The Major that I had talked to was standing outside talking to the CCI.   The CCI told me to fall out and report to the Major.  The Major took me aside and explained that I was to be released that evening and I was to report to the Drill Instructor of platoon 321.  Platoon 321 was in there 6^th week of training. 

Corporal Brookshire was the DI on duty.  His first statement was, “so you think you’re a bad ass”, the second statement came to be my new name. Corporal Brookshire ordered me to “get up on the pull-bar” “shit-bird”. From that day on I was Private shit-bird. 

When we went to the rifle range, (this was my second 20 mile forced march along the beach) my platoon was now bestowed the honor of blousing there boots. I was ordered not to blouse my boots.  It was the 9^th week before the DI’s let me blouse my boots. We were having close order drill inspection.  The Platoon did such a good job on the Drill Field, the DI’s must have forgot about me.

I was never was ordered not to blouse my boots after that.  I was still private shit-bird and all the other Boots were leary of communicating with me, except for training exercises. I didn’t make any real friends in Boot, but I did bond with my fellow Boots as a Marine recruit. This proves that a person needs only The Brotherhood of the Corps to be a Marine, Semper Fidelis, forever. 

After graduation I left the formation to get ready to get the bus for Infantry Training Regiment. As I was walking away, one of my Drill instructors (Sergeant Coggins) said to me “ you are going to make one hell of a Marine” those words will stick with me forever. The moral of this story is. If you want it “DO IT”. Boot Camp mellowed me out and taught me Discipline, Respect, Faith, Endurance, Teamwork, and gave me a Family, my beloved Corps.

SEMPER FIDELIS!!!

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