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Text originally published in 1958 under the same title.
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A MARINE DIVISION IN NIGHTMARE ALLEY
by
Anthony J. Campigno
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Contents
DEDICATION
Dedicated to those who were there
A MARINE DIVISION IN NIGHTMARE ALLEY
IN JANUARY 1950, at 17 years of age, I enlisted in the United States Marines Corps with the full consent of my parents. The world was at peace, but being young, I ventured to travel the world with a good outfit. My lust for excitement had reached very high and I, therefore, figured the Marines Corps would solve my problems.
I enlisted at 90 Church Street in the Federal building located in downtown New York City. There I met a dozen companions, young in age like myself, and all eager as I to seek out excitement by serving with the Marines Corps. We were sworn in as a group, and then were quickly marched down to the railroad station.
As I left New York City, I thought to myself: today will be a memorable day in my lifeone of those days one couldnt forgetlike a holiday. It was a big treat that day, travelling through the Southern states for the first time, especially when the travel was at the expense of the Marine Corps.
The end of the line came at Yamasee, South Carolina. We then travelled by bus to Parris Island, South Carolina, where we were to take our basic training. The rugged months of a new life lay ahead of me, a different life altogether, in which I was destined to serve four years. At least that was what the man told me when I signed my name in full. Well, it was new all right, and there were a few times when I felt like crying, especially when I felt lonesome for home. At night before taps, we had fifteen minutes to write letters. The lights would go out at 2200. A full eight hours of sleep was requires and we got that much sleep.
The Marine Corps does not baby its men by any means. It is a rugged training, with no let-up, and with a great deal of emphasis on discipline, based on the tradition of the Corps. The Corps had a reason to teach and enforce discipline. The reason was combat, for which we trained every single day of our basic training until we left Parris Island. As many have said, Everything and anything happens at Parris Island. This is true, and there was a reason or a cause behind each event. Many things happened that I wasnt prepared for during my basic training but one had to accept things as they came along. I used to think to myself that basic training was some sort of initiation upon entering the Corps.
Came the final days of ours training at Parris Island, things began to slacken a bit. Our platoon reached the goal for which all platoons and drill instructors strive during basic training. We had the privilege and honor of achieving Honor Platoon, which is a great thing at Parris Island. We marched everywhere for the last few days, others platoons taking notice as we strutted by. The highest credit was due to our drill instructors who command each platoon as they go through basic training at Parris Island.
The trials and tribulations each and every drill instructor endures training new recruits, with a magnitude of patience, is beyond belief. Without a doubt, a drill instructor is the fundamental backbone of the Corps. He will either make you or break you. It was understood that boot training would be the roughest, and upon completion, one had it made for the rest of your hitch in the Corps. Completion of basic training was a pleasure in itself. Now one no longer was called a boot or any other nickname one may have acquired from his drill instructor. All such incidents were forgotten and remained at Parris Island.
We left Parris Island with its memories embedded in our minds. I thought to myselfwas it worth it? Anyhow, I had asked for it. We had a ten-day leave at home in which to be civilians again, to have that freedom which we looked forward to for many weeks, and to strut around in proudly worn uniforms of the Marine Corps telling stories to our friends of our recent adventures and of those to come.
When my ten days were up, I reported for duty at Camp LeJeune, North Carolina. Camp LeJeune was a modern, up-to-date military installation at the time and was named after a famous Marine Corps General. The only disappointment was the scuttlebut travelling around Camp LeJeune that once you reported for duty there it would be permanent for the duration of your enlistment. However, there was an opportunity to go on a six months cruise in the Mediterranean Maneuvers, provided you were attached to Fleet Marine Force. Then you could return again to Camp LeJeune. This was a good deal, and I never heard anyone complain about the cruise.
I was detailed to a supply section which came under the name of Regimental Headquarters Battalion, 110 th Marines. This was a good field and even though guard duty was included, opportunities for advancement in rank were good.
I had a lonesome feeling for a while. I did not know anyone, so I got acquainted and mingled with some of the guys, and after awhile, I picked out my own buddies. I managed to go home on a long weekend once a month. Although there was much travelling involved, it was well worth it to get away; it was something to look forward to. After a few months tour of my new duties, I heard scuttlebut about activities in South Korea travel about the post. Many men were thinking seriously of volunteering, although nothing official had been posted and things were going on as usual at Camp LeJeune.
When I had returned from a weekend liberty which I spent at home, all hell broke loose, and Camp LeJeune was shaken up. The Korean conflict, as it was then called, was in full progress, and was the most talked-of topic at the base. One morning, we assembled in mass formation in front of our barracks and marched to the parade grounds; there we took stock of the situation. The commanding officer of the battalion delivered a speech concerning the chain of events that were to follow due to the outbreak in South Korea. In the speech, we got the word that we were going to leave Camp LeJeune.
A month of preparation and hard work for the cruise was nearly cut down to two weeks, time in which elements of the Second Marine Division were ready and able to pull out of Camp LeJeune. Leaves were cancelled and liberty was had only in conversation. Work continued through the night and sometimes well into the morning. Morale was pretty high, though; most of the troops felt contented with the idea of leaving Camp LeJeune, not that it was a bad duty station, but the opportunity had come for adventure, excitement and travelespecially excitement for those who had never left Camp LeJeune or the states.
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