Jerry Dallape - Vietnam Guns and Fury

MY DECISION TO JOIN THE MARINE CORPS

April 1966

I t had become clear to me that I was actually going to graduate from Collinsville High School in Illinois this coming June. Up to this point, I wasnt really sure. I now needed to start thinking about what I would do after graduation. My thoughts of going to college were pretty much nonexistent. My high school grades were C average at best and in 1966 most colleges required at least a B average. The cost of college was also well out of my price range and student loans were few and far between. I was living with my mother at the time. She and I both worked at a small airport, so monetarily it was a struggle for her to support us both. My mind was made up. After graduating, I would do something that would enable me to support myself and not be a burden to her. Since college was not a viable option and my job at the airport paid very little, I thought seriously about a job at one of the local steel mills, but eventually felt that it would be a dead-end situation. I wanted more from life. The only other option that made any sense at the time was to join the military. My first thought was to join the Air Force, because I knew quite a bit about airplanes. After some consternation I decided that the Air Force probably wasnt a good fit for me. The Navy was also unappealing. My skills leaned heavily on physical abilities since I had played organized sports from age eight through high school. That left the Army and Marine Corps as my final options.

Every day as I would leave school on my way home, I walked past a large poster of a well-chiseled Marine, looking down the barrel of his M14 rifle. Each time I walked past that poster, I became more aware of every detail in that haunting picture, the clothes he was wearing, the way he was holding his rifle, the equipment he was carrying. My mind was made up. The Marine Corps was my choice. Two of my best friends, Norman Sidebottom and Doug Smith were also interested in joining the Marines. We set up an appointment to talk to our local Marine Corps recruiter. During our meeting he lectured us on the physical and mental aspects of boot camp and the everyday life of being a Marine. The recruiter told us that he wasnt sure we were ready to be Marines, but would sign us up and delay his final decision whether to accept or reject our application until after we graduated. That decision would be predicated on our physical and mental health, along with other considerations. At that time Doug was overweight and would not qualify based on rigorous Marine Corps standards.

For the next two months we trained every day, running three miles a day, doing 300 push-ups and 300 sit-ups. After graduating from high school in June we were given our physical by the Marine Corps. Norman and I were accepted, but Doug was rejected. He still had not reached the Marine Corps weight requirements. It was a shame because he would have made a great Marine.

As an eighteen-year-old high school student trying to graduate, play football, work a part-time job and spend as much time as possible with my full-time girlfriend Karen Brown, I really didnt have much time to pay attention to the news. The fighting in Vietnam was beginning to ramp up. Our recruiter explained to Norman and me that the chances of going to Vietnam were very slim. He explained that there were many job opportunities in the Marine Corps other than infantry. We would very likely be placed in some other job category. Even if we were placed in an infantry unit, the Marine Corps has infantry all around the world, so our chances of going to Vietnam would be minimal.

BOOT CAMP

June 23,1966

My forte in becoming a United States Marine started on the morning of June 23, 1966. At 10:30 in the morning the Marine recruiter picked me up at my home to drive Norman and me to Lambert Field in St. Louis Missouri, where we boarded a TWA 707, destined for San Diego California. My thoughts ran rampant the whole flight, contemplating the thrill of becoming a United States Marine and the apprehension of what was coming when we landed. I knew boot camp would be extremely difficult both mentally and physically. I could only hope that I was up to the challenge.

As soon as our plane landed in San Diego we were met by one of the sharpest dressed military personnel I had ever seen. The Marine was tall and was wearing what I thought was the most beautiful uniform on the planet. As he greeted us, he spoke sternly but politely. He directed us to a bus where other perspective Marine candidates were amassing for our ride to the Marine Corps Recruit Depot, where our basic training would take place. The mood on the bus was festive but reserved. We were all discussing what we thought would happen when we arrived at the Recruit Depot. As the doors on the bus closed and we proceeded to our destination, life changed dramatically. The Marine that had shown me the way to the bus was now screaming at the top of his lungs like a crazy lunatic. He ordered everyone to shut their mouths and dont talk unless we were asked a question, He proceeded to inform us thatwe were some of the lowest forms of life on earth and that from here on we were all the same. The blacks and whites on the bus were all the same. The tall, the short, the fat and the ugly were all the same. Not only were we all the same, we were all scum. This screaming and ranting lasted the entire trip as the Marine marched up and down the aisle of the bus. He was relentless, he never stops screaming until the doors opened and we exited the bus. Now other Marines begin to scream at us with even more vim and vigor than the crazy Marine on the bus. We were ordered to stand on yellow painted footprints on the asphalt and not move. I thought that if this is the way they are going to treat us Im not sure I want to be here. These thoughts lasted pretty much the whole time I was in boot camp. My reception into the Marine Corps immediately turned into a blur. I dont remember much about the next few days, other than, no matter what we did it was wrong. One of the occurrences that I do remember was getting our hair cut. My hair was not long because as a Collinsville high school football player, I was required to have short hair. Many of the recruits did have long hair and it was quite a spectacle as they watched their hair fall to the floor in just a matter of seconds. For many this was the real turning point that introduced them to the Marines.