“You want wet or lurps,” Captain Morgan said, holding the radio handset to his right ear.
“What are lurps?” I asked, vaguely having heard the word but not understanding what it meant.
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James,
Fantastic read. Sounds as though the racial divide was everywhere just not spoken of. The Lord of the Flies analogy is right on. I was too young for Vietnam but nothing but respect for those who served. I work with several veterans and a couple have died from mysterious cancers related to agent orange. They would only speak of their real experience among themselves. Your insight proves to me that you can only fully grasp the experience by having been there.
I don’t know about the racial thing anywhere else but where I was.
I did near that the rear area was a bit of a mess at times and when
I got home on Pendelton I ran right into it again. But that’s it.
thanks for the comment and the interest in the story…and the comment, of course.
Semper fi,
Jim
When I hit Lejuene in 73 the” race thing” was alive and kicking. If you walked alone on or off base and you were white , you would be beaten and robbed. It was an us against them environment. I had my fair share of encounters with the knuckle knockers. Semper Fi
There was no open racial robbery, burglary or anything else than drunken fighting between the races when I was at Camp Pendleton awaiting
release. Only that one incident at which I vastly over-reacted. In San Clemente, as a cop, I never had racila problems from the Marines
or anybody else and we had a heavy mix with a lot of border crossers thrown in. Thanks for the comment…
Semper fi,
Jim
Thanks for writing about your experience in Vietnam. I was too young for the war, lucky me, but I was definitely very aware of it. It’s good to get some truth about what was going down. Not much got through at the time.
Thanks for caring the way you obviously do and writing a comment about it.
It helps to keep on going.
Semper fi,
Jim
You comment on the racial thing. I was with the 101st Airborne and the 1st Air Cav during my 7 month tour. 71-72. That stuff didn’t go on in the bush, at least in my outfits. Only seen it when i was in rear areas. Standing in line at the chow hall and having to wait for them to do the dap thing and holding up the line and all I wanted was a hot meal. All colors were close in the bush.
JJ, we fought a bunch of wars over there, depending upon where you were, the time you were there and the unit you were with. All I can do is write about my own.
Glad your racial things worked them out int he field. My experience was a bit more violent than that, as you can observe from reading the story.
Thanks for the reading and commenting….
Semper fi,
Jim
I agree 100% this is a story that needs told as most that were in it will not. I was sent the opposite way while in but met many that had been there and went through the hell you did.
Thanks for the writing Jim . It is time for people to know about how things really were in that shit hole we had to try to survive . There are too many of us that have held it inside for our own grasp on sanity . All I can do is remember and break down crying . Not for myself but for those that never came home . PLEASE , don’t stop now .
I am at it this day Robert, writing on into the end of the Seventh Day and revealing
more of the absolutely astounding reality of horror that so many good old American kids ran right into
like into an oncoming train with its light deliberately extinguished.
Thank you for you comments as it is the guys and gals who went and faced that shit
that I am writing this for. I do not expect it to be well received back here in this
phenomenal world of our current culture, except by those of us who went.
Semper fi,
Jim
Your pages bring so many memories back. We had trouble for awhile with race, but our CO weeded them out quickly. One Marine was being harassed by a few Knuckle Knockers, he shot one of them with his M16, never had a problem again. He received a Summary Court Marital, a slap on the hand. HAHA.
Thank you Dean. Means a lot to hear from people who’ve been there and had experiences like this occur
in the field. It was a peculiarly strange time at home and over there.
Your comment means a lot.
Semper fi,
Jim
“I stopped eating. My shoulders slumped a little. I chewed on what I had in my mouth, my mind racing. I was still a Marine. We were all still Marines; animal and jungle Marines but Marines nevertheless. As long as I breathed I knew, in my heart, that I would never go around a Hill 110 again. Not in the jungle, Vietnam, any war or even back home.” The Blessing. And the Curse. Reinforced by instruction and training, but instilled somewhere, somehow much earlier, at the molecular level. Fully, intrinsically aware that we humans are hard wired, programmed to function as a group; followers and leaders. From inter related families of cave dwellers over the millennia to church and government hierarchy, to the By God United States Marine Corps. And comes now the scared shitless, uncomprehending brown bar fully and painfully aware that “If it is to be, it’s up to me”. It is totally unfair to say that you walked away from that once already in the life-long week you have just endured, but it is totally accurate to say that you have accepted your unwillingness, your physical, mental, moral incapacity to let that happen to you again. It’s going to stick in your craw when I describe that as heroism, but gag on it if you must, because that’s a fact, Jack.
SF,
PFJ
Damn John.
Right (write) on.
I think it’s the new boots.
Like Superman’s cape.
Spider-Man’s web.
Hey Strauss, The lack of response indicates I must have stepped over a line here, but like you, I have to tell it like I see it. No offense meant in any way.
SF,
PFJ
John, I did not mean not to respond. I lost you somewhere in here. I have had a lot of comments and I respond to them all, as you know.
You cannot offend me because you are a version of me! You are a friend. I know it. I feel it. I just didn’t read what your wrote.
Please give me another shot at it…
Your friend,
and Semper fi,
Jim
Yes, I see all your responses, both here on on your FB posts, and I have no idea how you get it all done. You are definitely like “kin”, and my admiration for what you’re doing now and all you have already done has no bounds. I have at least 3 books on the “read them now” list, and I’m vowing to get at your Arch books when those are complete.
SF,
PFJ
Thanks John, as usual!
Semper fi,
Jim
What John Conway said.
May God bless both of you and yours!
Thank you Greg. Nice words to end this year and I hope God makes it so for you and yours,
as well.
Semper fi,
Jim
Keep it coming, Jim!
Thanks for the comment Tim. I am keeping on, writing away in the back of the coffee shop and running
back and forth to one bedroom of my home where I’ve put up the old maps and assembled all the correspondence
and clippings of the time.
Semper fi,
Jim
There is a paragraph that ends abruptly…can you check to see if something got cut off? Last word is Steven’s.
thank you Brent. Steven’s needs to be deleted. I will see to it on edit tomorrow.
Semper fi,
Jim
Are you sure it wasn’t spelled LLRP instead of lurp? Those dudes were beyond strange that stayed in their hootches during the day so they wouldn’t lose their night vision. But I heard of a couple of other platoons that were definitely X files.
Subsequent to the war I found out that the rations were called LRPs and the LRP stood for long range patrol. It was pronounced lure over there
though and I presumed the four letters applied at the time. In practice, you usually used more water than the C-rations had as a part of them.
Hence the weight problem brought up by the Gunny. Plus water was harder to transport than rations of any kind. Thanks Dan for the comment. I never saw
the hooch protection for night vision but there was some guys who could sure see in the dark better than others.
Semper fi,
Jim
I thought it was Long Range Reconnaissance Patrol
You may be right John. I haven’t researched it on the Internet yet.
Thanks for the comment and the reading of the story….
Semper fi,
Jim
He’s got those new boots on. (second hand)
Probably requisitioned from a body bag.
I guess the funny didn’t have brown magic marker.
Herd he comes.
Well, Steve, I was a rather patched together mess in the field. Out there it was catch as catch can
and so many saw such different things. I seem to have a struck a chord with a lot of veterans, maybe because
I am risking a good bit of truth and raw exposure to criticism. I don’t know. All I can do is keep writing day to
day, like living it was…
Semper fi,
Jim
The good guys are rooting for you, sir.
Thank you Steve. It’s a bit of all of our story, the guys who were actually out in
the mud, much and fire, I mean. I was unaware that my story is similar to so many others. I thought I was
simply dropped into a little bitty isolated hell.
Thanks for your support and the reading.
Semper fi,
Jim
Tell it like its James,this story needs to be told and write that to.
Doing my best to put it down as best I can. The little stuff just keeps popping up as I get deeper into
the story. Seemed little at the time but I guess pretty huge now that I think and write about it.
Thank you for the support and the reading and the commenting. Means a lot.
Semper fi,
Jim
Always enjoy your work. Thank you for your service.
Thanks Geoffrey. Means a lot to have the support of some rather particularly special people.
I write on…
Semper fi,
Jim