' Inspirational 1

You Know you are a Marine Mom or Dad When…

Your last good night’s sleep was 6 months before he/she left for boot camp

You have finally resigned yourself to the fact that Marine mail is delivered seasonally rather than daily

Your Marine gives you ironing tips

Your Marine’s version of pneumonia is “It’s just a cold, I’m fine”

You realize the Marine Corps cure-all is Motrin

You can’t quite figure out what non-Marine parents worry about

You finally realize that Drill Instructors are not the anti-Christ and more like heroes

You forget there are TV stations other than Fox News

You find yourself bragging to friends about your Marine’s accuracy with an M-16

You get in a high speed chase just to catch up with someone else’s Marine Corps bumper stickers

When everything in your closet has Marine Mom or Marine Dad on it and if it doesn’t you put pins and yellow ribbons on it

When you recognize the haircut as a “high and tight” and ask if you can hug or handshake because your son is deployed

You buy a flagpole for the front yard and fly the American and USMC flags 24/7, lighted and money is no object

Every conversation with another Marine parent starts with “How’s the Marine?”

You tear up every time you see someone in uniform

You have no small children, but you search toy stores for a Marine G.I. Joe and buy it

When the post office employees know you by your first name

When your son/daughter is in Iraq or Afghanistan and you dial his/her cell phone so you can hear their voicemail message

You always know what time it is in Iraq, Afghanistan, Okinawa, San Diego and Parris Island

You don’t mind the long lines at the Post Office because you are NOT leaving until you get that care package mailed to your Marine

When the phone rings you don’t answer it unless the caller ID shows it is your Marine, and then you run over husbands, wives, cats, dogs, small children and little old ladies to answer the phone, no matter what injuries any of them may sustain in the process

You purchase Marine shirts for grandparents, aunts, uncles, nieces and nephews

Your son/daughter, who had such a messy room growing up that it was a health hazard, informs you on a visit home that you flunked inspection because of a little dust

When your Marine calls YOU for information because he knows you’ll get it from other parents

You don’t miss the President exiting Marine 1 because you are peering closely to see the Marine in Dress Blues at the bottom of the stairs

You are mopping the kitchen floor and your son walks in and says “You call that cleaning?”

You search military websites for any news of where your son or daughter might be or have been just a few days before

You have a blue star banner proudly displayed in your picture window

Your cell phone ringtone is the USMC Hymn

You taped the Marines Toys for Tots commercial where the little boy tells the Marine “you really are Santa Claus” and you cry every time you see it

Your weather check page includes Kuwait, Baghdad, Kandahar, Parris Island and San Diego

You stalk a man at the grocery store in a Marine cap so you can tell him about your Marine

You find a way to work into every conversation that your child is a Marine

You leave a special message to your Marine on your voicemail “If this is John I love and miss you!”

You stand in the checkout line with a cart full of beef jerky, baby wipes, protein bars and snuff, and people stare at you wondering what kind of a strange diet you are on

You sleep with your phone in your hand

Your boss asks if you are finished with a project and you answer “good to go ma’am”

You go out to your mail box with your reading glasses and a letter opener

You wait for what seems like years for the next phone call from your Marine, then you miss it by going out to get the newspaper—you lay on the floor sobbing uncontrollably

You really don’t sweat the small stuff—just the fact that your Marine is in the same hemisphere is enough to make you do the happy dance

You tell your family that “chow” is on the table

When you try to read aloud to others the “You know you are a Marine Mom or Dad When..” list but you can’t because of the lump in your throat and the tears in your eyes

I AM A MARINE MOM

I share my son’s pride in the Marine Corps. My son has conquered

the most challening military training program the United States has

to offer. The Eagle, Globe and Anchor give testimony to his title

"Leader of Men-United States Marine." He has taken his place

among history's Marines who have made the world free just hearing

the words:

"The Marines have landed, and the situation is well in

hand."

I am proud that in an age that scorns fighting men, he chose to be

ready to defend his country. Although I can never fully understand

his devotion to this fighting fraternity, I realize that the closed

corners of his heart and mind are no threat to our family. That

without this dedication to the word "Marine" and all that it stands

for, "Honor, courage, patriotism and devotion to duty" he would not

be the man that he is. I try to be familiar with the job so I can

appreciate his abilities. I wait when tours of duty separate him from

our family. I pray for his success in his career and for his safe

return. I hope he fulfills his potential and that I will never be a

deterrent. I share a common bond with those mothers who waited

during Belleau Wood, Guadalcanal, Tarawa, Iwo Jima, Inchon,

Vietnam, Beirut, Grenada...knowing one day that I will be the one

waiting. I choose to let the possibility of loss allow me to love my son

completely. My son has earned the right to be called "United States

Marine." He has been tested and found not lacking. May I be

worthy of the title "Marine Mom." May God Bless those who claim

the title United States Marine. For what you do, and are willing to

do, may we be all always fully grateful.

Author Unknown

(but thanks for this essay --as Marine Moms we hope we can live up to this!)

They Raised the

Flag

Ira Hayes, a Pima Indian, scaled the

side of Iwo Jima, With five friends,

climbed the rocky crag…went to the

top to plant the flag.

February 23^rd during world War II

these six men had a job to do,

Raise the flag and raise it well, but

first they had to go through hell.

A Navy Corpsman and five Marines

became one of our nation’s historic

scenes. They made their way to

the mountain top, through bombs

and bullets, they would not stop.

They attached the flag to a pole

they’d found and prepared to thrust

it into the ground

Six brave men working as one…the

flag was up, the job was done.

Raising the flag had been

completed…but the enemy was not

yet defeated.

Another month would go by and

three of the flag raisers sadly would

die.

Mike Strank, Franklin Sousley and

Harlon Block too…died on the island,

to the Corps they were true.

Rene Gagnon, Ira Hayes and the

corpsman Jack Bradley…survived

the battle but were battered badly.

Six men among many who

answered the call…three did survive

and three did fall, although weep

because they died…let their deeds

fill our hearts with pride.

By Robert Cowan USMC, 1966-1970

Poem completed December 10,

2003

The Proud Father of an

American Marine

You see me every day going about life as usual—or so it appears. I rub shoulders with you at work. I shop at Home Depot and the grocery store. I fill my car at the corner gas station. You might see me anywhere. Don’t be deceived: My life has not been “normal” for months. I am the Father of an American Marine. Although I continue the routings of life, I do so with a burdened heart and distracted mind. There are some telltale signs of who I am. I’m the one with the blue star pin on my clothing alongside another pin of the Stars and Stripes. It has been there since my son enlisted. Even though the war is supposedly over, my son may end up in a place where bullets and grenades are still killing our Marines. I am determined to wear my blue star pin until he comes home, because it reminds me to pray for him every minute. When you see me wearing that pin, please stop and whisper a pray for him and all the others still there. My house is the one with the yellow ribbons in the tree in the yard and one on the mail post. There is an American flag on a pole proudly displayed out front. The car in the drive has a POW/MIA magnet on the rear hatch and a crossed yellow ribbon magnet next to it. When you drive by a house of this description, please pray for the son or daughter overseas and for the parents waiting inside for their child to come home. To those of you who have posted yellow ribbons at your house or in the windows of your schools, thank you. It warms my heart everytime I see your expressions of support for our troops. One of the hardest things abut being the Father of an American Marine is living 1500 miles (how about 2,600 miles) away from the post of my son’s unit. Wives usually live on or near the fort/base, where they can glean support from others in the same situation. But a Father may live across the nation, so he feels totally alone. Letters rarely make their way home, and if they do, it is weeks after they have been written. Every week is like a roller coaster ride that I want to get off but will endure for my son’s future and the future of our country. When I read or hear a Marine has been killed somewhere in the world and his name has not been released pending notification of kin, restlessness, depression and insomnia rule my life until 24 hours have passed and the men in dress uniforms have not appeared at my door. I pray constantly that they will never come. You may see the dark circles under my eyes or even tears glistening in them. As the Father I am seen as “the strong one” and the “protector of his family” but deep inside, this Father’s heard is aching for the son so far from home, fighting for the freedom’s so many back here forget. I am there among you, trying to carry on some semblance of a normal life. Like so many others, I am the PROUD Father of an American

Marine.

Reverend Roy “Preacher” Wilson

US Army Field Artillery/EOD 77-80

State Chaplain

Task Force Omega of Ohio, Inc.

District One

7478 Cincinnati Dayton Rd

Cincinnati, Ohio 45069

Reverend Wilson is reaching out to any of you who read this who would like to talk about it—or who just needs a shoulder, or an understanding voice. He can be reached at:

TFOCHAPLAINOHIO@YAHOO.COM

Idle Hands

By Leah Ross

My hands held you safe when I was all you needed,

And reached for you when I was not

My hands held tight to your when you first “walked”

And clenched each other when you walked “alone”

They held the first book you read alone,

and the last one you studied to graduate.

They pulled your pond-wet socks up

over mismatched sneakers

And tried in vain to get your shirt tucked in.

They held your pet “du jour” carefully

while you hunted for its food

And dug a hole in the dirt when it died.

My hands rubbed your legs,

aching first from growing pains,

then lacrosse pains.

Held you close when you got your first broken bone,

Still closer for your first broken heart.

My hands cut your hair,

and then ran through it

Wiped your brow to show your eyes clearly.

They washed blood away,

and the tears that followed.

My busy hands that raised a man,

sit quietly now.

Not able to rush to aid, or comfort, or accomplish.

They are still,

Save for the quiet, dark hours

they join in fervent prayer,

Asking God to hug my boy in his sleep at night,

so he would wake feeling his mother’s touch.

Asking Him to hold you close while in your barracks,

tight while in battle.

Unceasing prayer to the only Parent able

to mother you now,

And the One who knows the great pain

of letting go of a Son.

EVERY MARINE IS A RIFLEMAN FIRST AND FOREMOST

(Courtesy of Sergeant Major Dougherty)

The Marine Corps is the only branch of the U.S. Armed Forces that
recruits people specifically to Fight.

The Army emphasizes personal development (an Army of One), the
Navy promises fun (let the journey begin), the Air Force offers
security (its a great way of life).

Missing from all the advertisements is the hard fact that a
soldier's life is to suffer and perhaps to die for his people and
take lives at the risk of his/her own.

Even the thematic music of the services reflects this evasion.
The Army's Caisson Song describes a pleasant country outing.
Over hill and dale, lacking only a picnic basket. Anchors Aweigh
the Navy's celebration of the joys of sailing could have been
penned by Jimmy Buffet.

The Air Force song is a lyric poem of blue skies and engine
thrust. All is joyful, and invigorating, and safe. There are no
land mines in the dales nor snipers behind the hills, no
submarines or cruise missiles threaten the ocean jaunt, no
bandits are lurking in the wild blue yonder.

The Marines' Hymn, by contrast, is all combat. "We fight our
Country's battles", "First to fight for right and freedom", "We
have fought in every clime and place where we could take a gun",
"In many a strife we have fought for life and never lost our
nerve".

The choice is made clear. You may join the Army to go to
adventure training, or join the Navy to go to Bangkok, or join
the Air Force to go to computer school. You join the Marine
Corps to go to War! But the mere act of signing the enlistment
contract confers no status in the Corps.

The Army recruit is told from his first minute in uniform that
"you're in the Army now, soldier". The Navy and Air Force
enlistees are sailors or airmen as soon as they get off the bus
at the training center.

The new arrival at Marine Corps boot camp is called a recruit, or
worse (a lot worse), but never a MARINE. Not yet, maybe never.
He or she must earn the right to claim the title of UNITED STATES
MARINE and failure returns you to civilian life without
hesitation or ceremony.

Recruit Platoon 2210 at San Diego, California trained from
October through December of 1968. In Viet Nam the Marines were
taking two hundred casualties a week and the major rainy season
and Operation Meade River had not even begun, yet Drill
Instructors had no qualms about winnowing out almost a quarter of
their 112 recruits, graduating 81. Note that this was post-
enlistment attrition. Every one of those 31 who were dropped had
been passed by the recruiters as fit for service. But they
failed the test of Boot Camp! Not necessarily for physical
reasons. At least two were outstanding high school athletes for
whom the calisthenics and running were child's play. The cause
of their failure was not in the biceps nor the legs, but in the
spirit. They had lacked the will to endure the mental and
emotional strain so they would not be Marines. Heavy commitments
and high casualties notwithstanding, the Corps reserves the right
to pick and choose.

History classes in boot camp? Stop a soldier on the street and
ask him to name a battle of World War One. Pick a sailor at
random and ask for a description of the epic fight of the Bon
Homme Richard. Ask an airman who Major Thomas McGuire was and
what is named after him. I am not carping and there is no sneer
in this criticism. All of the services have glorious traditions,
but no one teaches the young soldier, sailor or airman what his
uniform means and why he should be proud of it.

But...ask a Marine about World War One and you will hear of the
wheat field at Belleau Wood and the courage of the Fourth Marine
Brigade comprised of the Fifth and Sixth Marines. Faced with an
enemy of superior numbers entrenched in tangled forest
undergrowth the Marines received an order to attack that even the
charitable cannot call ill-advised. It was insane. Artillery
support was absent and air support hadn't been invented yet.
Even so the Brigade charged German machine guns with only
bayonets, grenades, and an indomitable fighting spirit. A
bandy-legged little barrel of a Gunnery Sergeant, Daniel J. Daly,
rallied his company with a shout, "Come on you sons a b-tches, do
you want to live forever?" He took out three machine guns
himself.

French liaison-officers hardened though they were by four years
of trench bound slaughter were shocked as the Marines charged
across the open wheat field under a blazing sun directly into the
teeth of enemy fire. Their action was so anachronistic on the
twentieth-century field of battle that they might as well have
been swinging cutlasses. But the enemy was only human. The
Boche could not stand up to the onslaught. So the Marines took
Belleau Wood. The Germans, those that survived, thereafter
referred to the Marines as "Teufel Hunden" (Devil Dogs) and the
French in tribute renamed the woods "Bois de la Brigade de
Marine" (Woods of the Brigade of Marines).

Every Marine knows this story and dozens more. We are taught
them in boot camp as a regular part of the curriculum. Every
Marine will always be taught them! You can learn to don a gas
mask anytime, even on the plane in route to the war zone, but
before you can wear the Eagle, Globe and Anchor and claim the
title United States Marine you must first know about the Marines
who made that emblem and title meaningful. So long as you can
march and shoot and revere the legacy of the Corps you can take
your place in line. And that line is as unified in spirit as in
purpose.

A soldier wears branch service insignia on his collar, metal
shoulder pins and cloth sleeve patches to identify his unit, and
far too many look like they belong in a band.

Sailors wear a rating badge that identifies what they do for the
Navy. Airmen have all kinds of badges and get medals for
finishing schools and showing up for work.

Marines wear only the Eagle, Globe and Anchor together with
personal ribbons and their CHERISHED marksmanship badges. They
know why the uniforms are the colors they are and what each
color means. There is nothing on a Marine's uniform to indicate
what he or she does nor what unit the Marine belongs to. You
cannot tell by looking at a Marine whether you are seeing a truck
driver, a computer programmer or a machine gunner or a cook or a
baker. The Marine is amorphous, even anonymous, by conscious
design.

The Marine is a Marine. Every Marine is a rifleman first and
foremost, a Marine first, last and Always! You may serve a four-
year enlistment or even a twenty plus year career without seeing
action, but if the word is given you'll charge across that
Wheatfield! Whether a Marine has been schooled in automated
supply or automotive mechanics or aviation electronics or
whatever is immaterial. Those things are secondary - the Corps
does them because it must. The modern battle requires the
technical appliances and since the enemy has them so do we. But
no Marine boasts mastery of them.

Our pride is in our marksmanship, our discipline, and our
membership in a fraternity of courage and sacrifice. "For the
honor of the fallen, for the glory of the dead", Edgar Guest
wrote of Belleau Wood. "The living line of courage kept the faith
and moved ahead." They are all gone now, those Marines who made
a French farmer's little Wheatfield into one of the most enduring
of Marine Corps legends. Many of them did not survive the day
and eight long decades have claimed the rest. But their actions
are immortal. The Corps remembers them and honors what they did
and so they live forever. Dan Daly's shouted challenge takes on
its true meaning - if you lie in the trenches you may survive for
now, but someday you may die and no one will care. If you charge
the guns you may die in the next two minutes, but you will be one
of the immortals.

All Marines die in either the red flash of battle or the white
cold of the nursing home. In the vigor of youth or the infirmity
of age all will eventually die, but the Marine Corps lives on.
Every Marine who ever lived is living still, in the Marines who
claim the title today.

It is that sense of belonging to something that will outlive our
own mortality, which gives people a light to live by, and a flame
to mark their passing.