ONCE A MARINE, ALWAYS A MARINE I have a nice Marine Corps story that involves Andy. We were at my son Andrew‘s house on Mother‘s Day

last year and my Daughter- in -Law Carrie‘s grandfather, Bill Langerak a

World War II Marine, was there also. After being there for a while, he

happened to notice Andy‘s Marine Corps tattoo and asked Andy if he was

a Marine. Of course, Andy said he was and the two started a conversation

that lasted a good hour or so.

Nobody knows what they were saying to each other because they were so

engrossed in their conversation. This gentleman had balked about coming

to the Mother‘s Day party because he didn‘t like to leave his apartment.

He was 80 years old. It turned out that he and Andy served in some of the

same places.

When his daughter stood up to leave, he looked at her in surprise and said, ―Oh, are you ready to leave‖?

When she told him that she had been ready to go for a while but that he was so busy talking to Andy that

she didn't want to interrupt. He looked at her and said ―Well, He‘s a Marine!!‖ Just goes to show, ONCE A

MARINE, ALWAYS A MARINE.

This gentleman passed away a month ago and his daughter told me that he had requested that he be buried

with his Maine Corps blanket that I made him a couple years ago for Christmas. I was so touched!!!

Attached is a picture I took of Bill and Andy enjoying each others company. They were totally unaware I

took the picture.

Susan Marquez

COLORADO OLD GLORY PLATOON

―Maggart‘s Maggots‖

Volume 4 1/15/07

S/Sgt Maggart Sgt Bates

Being a Marine is a state of mind. It is an experience some have likened more to a calling than a profession.

Being a Marine is not a job – not a paycheck; it is not an occupational specialty. It is not male or female,

majority or minority; nor is it a rank insignia. Stars, bars, or chevrons are only indicators of the responsi-

bility or authority we hold at a given time. Rather, being a Marine comes from the eagle, globe, and anchor

that is tattooed on the soul of every one of us who wears the Marine Corps uniform. It is a searing mark in

our innermost being which comes after the rite of passage through boot camp or Officer Candidates

School when a young man or woman is allowed for the first time to say, ―I‘m a United States Marine.‖ And

unlike physical or psychological scars, which, over time, tend to heal and fade in intensity, the eagle, globe,

and anchor only grow more defined – more intense – the longer you are a Marine. "Once a Marine,

always a Marine."

Bring a raffle prize to the reunion!!! This Helps Fund the Reunion

Scenes of Boot Camp

Did you call me a ―ewe‖?

Do I look like

a female sheep?

(Don‘t go there Sir!)

We‘re on Your time ,

Now ladies!

YOU EYEBALLING

ME PUKE?

GET ON YOUR STINK-ING FACE..

NOW

You maggots

p***** me off

….push ups for-

ever…….

Have you been

shopping?

Semper Fidelis is

our creed, Marine

Corps is our

breed.

Snapping in at the

rifle range.

You think it burns

now, wait until I

sit on

your shoulders!

This is my rifle,

this is my gun, My

rifle is for killing,

My gun is for fun.

Sick Call goes at

0:800, now what‘s

the problem ?

DRILL INSTRUCTORS’ CORNER My Life….U.S. Marine Corps and After

Roger C. Maggart

Chapter 1

Boot Camp ..……..Tent Camp……..Korea (San Diego) (Camp Pendleton)

That was our Big 3 back in 1953. Everyone knows Boot

Camp, (some changes after the Recruit Drowning at Parris

Island), then Tent Camp, (some called it Advanced Combat

Training), then by ship to Korea.

Our tour in Korea was supposed to be 13 months. This time

frame came and went. Word came down that our unit, Easy

Company, 2nd Battalion, 5th Marine Regiment (our regi-

ment wore the French Fortege’, some called it the Poggy

Rope), 1st Marine Division would be escorting the Division

Colors back to Camp Pendleton. This finally happened

fifteen months after our tour started in Korea. After 30

some days aboard ship we arrived in San Diego. A great

parade up Broadway, buses (cattle cars) to Camp Pendleton,

two days later on leave to Colorado Springs.

I had gone to Korea as a PFC and with two meritorious pro-

motions came back a Sergeant. During my tour in Korea I

was a Gunner, than a Leader, of a 3.5 Rocket Launcher

Section.

Back from leave. Our Company First Sergeant called me to

his office one day and said “Maggart, they need U.S. Em-

bassy Guards, Interested? After further investigation I

would need to agree to extend or reenlist to be considered.

Long story short, Marine Security Guard School in Wash-

ington D.C. and I was singing “April in Paris” as I flew off

to Paris, France. Two and a half years in Paris, I reenlisted

and was transferred back to the States and to the San Diego

Recruit Depot. This was in 1958. Next time ...Chapter 2

STAY YOUNG , ATTEND THE 2007 REUNION, RE-LIVE YOUR YOUTH !!

“What If” In our last newsletter we posed the question.

“What if we meet in San Diego in celebra-

tion of 47th or 48th anniversary of our boot

camp graduation. Several people thought it

was a “do-able" concept. John Wetter said

he would help in any way he could. Keep

thinking about it and lets talk more about

it . It would be an unforgettable experience.

Think about it, Lets talk at the reunion.

Update on

Missing Marines There has been a real effort to locate or

account for all members of Platoon 350.

All leads are followed. We need any in-

formation you may have on the following

platoon members. Typical information

that is useful is first name, hometown,

high school attended, wife‘s name, clues

to where he settled after discharge and

etc.

Sgt Bates

Bernard E. Ferris

Robert F. Freeman

R.L. Moore

R.C. Sanchez

Michael E. Warren

F.O. Anderson

P.E. Campbell

David L. Countryman

John J. Green

Daniel C. Lovato

R. D. Harris

John J. Greene

J. M. Gonzales

Please send any information to

George Davis gdavis457@live.com

Thank You Susan Thank you Susan Marquez for your article. We invite

other Marine spouses to contribute

stories about members of the Colo-

rado Old Glory Platoon. Sometimes

the guys are a little reluctant to tell

their stories. Susan and Andy have

been great supporters of the reun-

ions. They have attended all platoon

functions and contributed great gifts

to the platoon raffle. Semper Fi

“Pain is nothing compared to what it feels like to Quit”

Unknown

The People Who Make a Difference ! ―Now I see why powerful people often wear sunglasses—the spotlight blinds them to reality. They suffer

from a delusion that power means something (it doesn‘t). They suffer from the misconception that titles

makes a differences (they don‘t). They are under the impression that earthly authority will make a heav-

enly difference (it won‘t).

Can I prove my point? Take this quiz.

Name the ten wealthiest people in the world.

Name the last ten Heisman trophy winners.

Name the last ten winners of the Miss America contest.

Name eight people who have won the Noble or Pulitzers prize.

How about the last ten Academy Award winners for the best picture or the last decade‘s worth of World

Series winners?

How did you do? I didn‘t do well either. With the exception of you trivia hounds, none of us remember the

headliners of yesterday too well.

Surprising how quickly we forget, isn‘t it? And what I‘ve mentioned above are not second-rate achieve-

ments. Theses are the best in their fields. But the applause dies. Awards tarnish. Achievements are forgot-

ten. Accolades and certifications are buried with their owners.

Here‘s another quiz. See how you do on this one.

Think of three people you enjoy spending time with.

Name ten people who have taught you something worthwhile.

Name five friends who have helped you in a difficult time.

List a few teachers who have aided your journey through school.

Name half-a-dozen heroes whose stories have inspired you.

Easier? It was for me, too. The lesson? The people who make a difference are not the ones with the creden-

tials, but the ones with the concern.‖

Author Unknown

With the above story in mind, please consider attending the next reunion of the Colorado Old Glory Platoon.

The regular attendees of these reunions want to make a difference in your life. We hold a common bond. We

together experienced something that few of our friends or relatives have experienced. We are a band of broth-

ers. If you have not attended a reunion yet, come and see what a difference it will makes in your life. Life is

short, make the most of it. Roger Maggart will be sending reunion registrations. Please consider coming!

Thanks, we hope that you will attend this upcoming reunion. Semper Fi.

Known Deceased Platoon Members

Paul Harshman Jerry Steinbach Billy Killinen Dennis Franklin John Rames Gary Peyton

Ralph Lopez Jerry Hodkinson Ron Wilkenson Leonard Eby Melvin Moeller R. I. Sours

COLONEL’S CORNER - John Wetter December 2006

George Davis has asked me several times over the past months to contribute something to the Platoon newsletter under the ban-ner “Comments From the Platoon Honorman”… or something like that. I could not think of anything that that would be of gen-eral interest to all of you, and beyond sending George what he printed in the last newsletter I drew a blank. That synopsis of my time in the Corps I had written several years earlier for my chil-dren and grandchildren. While puttering about the yard doing some inane chore one day after George’s last request, I thought; over my nearly quarter century in the Corps I have known some really interesting people. Most of them true heroes albeit for the most part - unsung heroes. They range from my OCS DI who was not one of those unsung heroes as he was awarded the Medal of Honor, to an old and close friend who has the dubious distinction of being the last Marine rifle range marksmanship coach to a guy that went by the name of … Lee Harvey Oswald. The more I think about it, I can probably bore you guys to death and maybe George will regret ever asking for any tomes from me; so, for the foreseeable future, my contribution will be titled “MARINES I HAVE KNOWN.” MARINES I HAVE KNOWN: Gunnery Sergeant Jose LaRiva From September 1963 to April 1964 I was stationed at MCAF New River, North Carolina, an avionics tech in a helicopter squadron. In mid April 1964 I re-enlisted for another four year tour and, in addition to the usual re-enlistment bonus, I got my choice of duty station choosing of course MCAS El Toro 20 miles down the road from Elisa’s parent’s home in Fullerton. Upon arrival at El Toro I was assigned to Marine All Weather Fighter Squadron 312 (VMF(AW)-312), Marine Aircraft Group 33 (MAG-33), then flying F-8E Crusaders. Checking into the squadron my first introduction fol-lowing the admin bit was to my new boss, the Avionics Chief of 312, GySgt Jose LaRiva. Gunny LaRiva was the Avionics Chief for 312 from 1963 to 1966. He was not one of those flamboyant Marines that we all like to talk about but instead a steady, clear-eyed professional Staff NCO that knew his business well, led by example, and never to my recollection or in my presence raised his voice in frustration or anger. Jose was a pleasure to work for and highly respected throughout the squadron. (continued)

ALL MEMBERS Please Report Your Changed

Address, Phone Numbers and

e-mail to Filbert

303-452-1387 fegomez@peoplepc.com

Reunion

June 22 & 23rd

Pueblo, CO

"There are only two kinds of people that understand Ma-rines: Marines and the en-emy. Everyone else has a secondhand opinion." Gen. William Thornson, US Army

New Marine comman-

dant favors more home leave between

combat tours That may require increas-

ing the size of the Corps or shifting

forces from other theaters downrange,

said Gen. James Con-way. Asked if the lat-

ter option could mean using more Marines

from places such as Okinawa, Conway

said, “That’s one pos-

sibility. (Stars & Stripes)

OKINAWA FREAK STORM

INJURES MARINES

A powerful storm, most likely

a tornado, slammed Camp

Schwab around 1PM Nov

18th injuring three Marines

in the parking lot of the Post

Exchange. (Military.com)

My Life After Boot Camp

by Fil Gomez

Following Boot camp, I was assigned to the First Pioneer Battalion with a MOS of 1371 -

combat engineer. My buddies from boot camp that went with me to the pioneers were

Gordon Reichert and Jerry Hodkinson. We were physically located at Camp Talega in the far

North corner of Camp Pendleton. While in the Pioneers, I went to Landmine/Demolition Warfare

School and I trained in heavy equipment operation. I had an opportunity after two years to join

the MC Air wing. I transferred to VMO-2 at Main side Pendleton where I worked in the mainte-

nance shops of the airfield along with others in the trades such as electricians, painters, carpenters,

etc. We handled the needs of the airfield. While there we deployed aboard the USS Thomaston –

LSD 28 for the Cuban missile crisis. We went through the Panama Canal into the Caribbean Sea.

We had shore leave in Panama City, Montego Bay Jamaica, Camp Garcia on the island of Vieques

in Puerto Rico, and Guantanamo Bay in Cuba. After a year at Main side Pendleton, I rotated with

a cadre to Okinawa, Japan. Stationed at MCAF Futima, I was attached to VMO-6 and MAG-16,

servicing the airfield for helicopters and light observation aircraft. While there we had field ma-

neuvers that took me to Kao-hsiung, China on the island of Taiwan and two months working at the

airfield in DaNang South Vietnam. I mustered out of the Marine Corps at El Toro Airbase in Cali-

fornia with the rank of E-4 in late October, 1964.

Coming home to Denver, I met my future wife, Rebecca, after just two weeks. We married in June

1966, bought a house in 1968 and started a family in 1969. In October 1965, I joined a company

that was new to Colorado; IBM Corporation. I began my career on the assembly line, all the while

taking advantage of the GI bill and the IBM tuition refund program. I attended Metro State Col-

lege and became a Software Engineer in 1972. I worked in Systems Development until offered an

early retirement incentive in January 1992. For the next ten years, I worked as an independent

contractor in the field of Software Engineering and Project Management for Storage Technology,

BankAmerica, US West, AT&T, & Lucent Technologies.

I have three children, all successful in life. My oldest is Chris; he is a police officer, married with

two sons and a daughter. Daniel is my second son, he is a financial consultant, lives in Phoenix, is

married with a son and a daughter. My youngest child is Andrea; she is an IT professional (like her

dad), married with 2 sons. I have been retired since January 2002 and am content doing the honey-

doos. We own a timeshare in Puerto Vallarta, Mexico and we make an annual trip with the family.

RECRUIT—AWOL As the sun rose over Parris Island, the senior drill instructor re-

alized that one of his recruits had gone AWOL. A search party

was dispatched immediately. After a few hours the recruit was

discovered hiding in some bushes. He was sent back to the base

and promptly escorted to the drill instructor's office. The in-

structor asked the young recruit, "Why did you go AWOL?"

The recruit replied, "My first day here you issued me a comb,

and then proceeded to cut my hair off. The second day you is-

sued me a toothbrush, and sent me to the dentist, who proceeded

to pull all my teeth. The third day you issued me a jock strap,

and I wasn't about to stick around and find out what would fol-

low that SIR." (Sgt Grit)

Head Call !! Sir Private Jones request

permission to speak to the

drill instructor.

(LOUDLY)

Speak Maggot

Sir Private Jones requests per-

mission to make a head call,

Sir.

Is it and emergency head call

Maggot?

Yes Sir.

Then sound your siren and

Go!

WE NEED YOUR LIFE

STORY!!

PLEASE SEND YOUR STORY

TO

GEORGE DAVIS

gdavis457@live.com

Joe Abendschan’s Life After The Marine Corps

Actually I need to step back a bit, Lynda and I were married while I was in the Marines, took her to a gar-

den spot near 29 Palms (known as the ―Stumps‖ by some), just a mile from Joshua National Monument.

When I returned from overseas Lynda presented me with the best welcome home gift a man could ask for, a

fine young Son just getting ready to walk. After my enlistment was up we returned to Longmont Colorado

where our wonderful Daughter was born.

In Longmont I had various jobs including Ralph Faith Construction Company and Mountain View Ceme-

tery till I went to work for IBM in their security department.

While at IBM I had the opportunity to do a lot of interesting things including manufacturing, fork lift driver,

receiving inspection, quality assurance, software support and remote server management.

When IBM was down sizing I took one of their buy outs and became a consultant, mostly working on remote

support for the State of California Child Welfare System.

During all this my family and I became interested in off road motorcycles. We all had bikes and we would

load them up and take off some where and ride together. Our children still talk about the good times we had

together. We belonged to a family oriented motorcycle club, I rode a few Enduros mostly in Colorado, plus

Lynda and I had a lot of fun on our street bike together. Lynda was quite admired by her students when she

rode her motorcycle to school!

As time went on and we got tired of bugs in our teeth and picking dirt out of our skin Lynda and I purchased

stand up Jet Ski‘s and spent many fun times with our family and friends at various lakes in Colorado, Ne-

braska and Utah.

Lynda and I are both retired now, living a happy life in Johnstown Colorado. We are close to our Daughter

and her family, much closer to our Son and his family in Wyoming.

Lynda raises African Violets and Streptocarpus plants so we have pretty flowers every where in our home.

Our Daughter and I are doing photography for a construction company to document their projects, although

my primary interests are nature and landscape. Oh yea, I also spoil our Grand Children at every opportu-

nity!

As one of our Brothers said ―Friends, it is a good life‖ and it is.

Top Marine:

Troops under too much strain

The new head of the Marine Corps said Wednesday

that the longer than anticipated pace of operations

in Iraq and Afghanistan is putting an unacceptable

strain on troops. Gen Conway said some units are

on their fourth tour in Iraq, and the pressure on

families has raised concerns that Marines will start

leaving the service. (Stars & Stripes)

Melvin D. Moeller

“Mel” Died November 15, 2003. He was born in Brush, Colorado. After an honorable discharge he held a vari-ety of positions in the Denver area. He then move to Sacra-mento, CA in the late 60’s. He was a draftsman for Southern Pacific railroad and then a tax preparer for H&R Block. He

then spent 12 years on the Sacramento Fire Department, attaining the rank of Captain. He was an independent Entrepreneur and President of CmpTans Inc./Envirocare for 20 years. He moved to Payson, AZ in 2002 where he sold nutritional products and was a minister. Rest in Peace Marine.

Larry Small

Called In!

George Davis was pleased to receive a call from Larry Small in November. Larry responded to a letter that was sent. Glad to have you aboard Marine. See you in Pueblo next June.

PLAN ON ATTENDING THE 2007 REUNION JUNE 22 & 23rd PUEBLO, CO

“If anybody

could be a

MARINE. it

wouldn‘t be the

MARINES.‖

ANOTHER

GLORIOUS

DAY TO

SERVE THE

CORPS

Another Glori-

ous Day in the

Corps,

Where Every

Meal is a Feast

and Every Job

is a Chance to

Shine!!

Hollywood

Marines

At Their

Best!

You want to

play games?

We can play

all day!

Real Marines!!

Flippity Flop,

Mob Stop!!

Go Private Golec!

I Had Wanted To Join The Air Force

To this day I wonder what really would have happened had I done so. The military service was in

my plans in that I wanted to take advantage of the G.I. bill and eventually go to college.

I graduated from high school on June 10th 1960 and had talked to an Air Force recruiter just

before that and was committed to leave about July of that year. Although I did not sign up for-

mally I was prepared for it until my “two high-school” friends showed up with the Marine re-

cruiter at our school and was able to talk me and two other buddies into joining the corps. The

result was five of us from our school were recruited. As luck would have it, (would you believe

this) the recruiter had over-recruited and two of us would have to wait until September to enter

into the next cycle of boot camp training. I, along with my ―two friends” chose to leave on June

14th rather than wait for September. The two that had to wait opted out and went on to be what

they are today.

He was a burly ol’ salt of a recruiter. He was short, stocky and had a hard look on his face. He

was ill-fitted with a dental-partial plate that slipped every now and then when he imparted the

benefits of joining the corps. Heck, he was such a nice guy that he even let us drive his 1959 Ply-

mouth olive drab recruiting car with Marine Corps emblems on each side of the doors to cruise

the streets for some time. Waving, shouting and honking the horn at passer-bys as we cruised

the three blocks that was our main street I heard, ―suckaaaa!‖ Didn‘t bother me. I was going to

become a Marrrrine! And the damndest thing I can‘t remember that recruiter‘s name.

Soon after ITR, I along with others from our boot camp platoon went to the 5th Marines at

Camp San Onofre and was redesignated the 1st Marines soon after. I believe George Davis, Por-

firio Lopez, Jim Thompson went to communications, H&S company, Henry Sailas to ―C‖ com-

pany, Anthony Cesario and Eloy Garcia to a line company, Robert Martin to Delta compny,

Dennis Franklin to S4 legal, I believe. Larry Small, Les Abeyta and I was assigned to H&S com-

pany, 106 mm recoilless rifle platoon. There may have been others that I don‘t recall.

1962 was the year that our battalion went overseas to Okinawa. We became the 3rd battalion, 3rd

Marines, 3rd Marine Division (triple tre). Uneventful as it was, we did quite a bit of traveling

through out the far-east, especially when we were on ―floating battalion.‖ It was during this time

in Okinawa where I pulled the best duty. I was ―temporarily assigned duty TAD) to the Ryukan

Armed Services Police (RASP) as a Marine MP with the Army, Navy, Air Force, Marine Corps

and native civilian police force on an army base near the capitol city of Naha. I did this for 6

months and had to leave to go on floating battalion. We spent 13 months over seas.

My new assignment when we rotated back was an anti-tank battalion or ―Ontos‖ at Camp

Horno. I was getting ―short‖ but then again I went TAD to the Marine Corps Brig at Area 13,

Mainside. It was during my time at Camp Horno that I was given the opportunity to test for OCS

as was others in and around that time. It was called ―Enlisted…….something or other….Wetter

knows. Being ―math challenged,‖ needless to say, it didn‘t work out. I was then offered a pro-

motion if I extended and would go to DI school. These were not in my life‘s plans. I wanted out

and off to college via the G.I. bill and that I did.

I was on the ―dole‖ for about 8 weeks (unemployment) after separation. I finally was hired by

the New Mexico Boys‘ School in Springer, New Mexico as a youth counselor. I did that for about

2 years, resigned and took on a similar job with the Dept of Youth Services in Colorado until

1968 when I decided to go to college.

(continued—next page)

PLEASE PLAN ON ATTENDING THE 2007 REUNION JUNE 22 & 23rd PUEBLO, CO

(continued—Roger Cortez)

I attended Trinidad State Jr. College in my home town and later transferred to The Colorado College, a pri-

vate liberal arts school in Colorado Springs where I received my B.A. degree in Humanities and a Colorado

teaching certificate in 1973. In that same year I got my first teaching assignment at the elementary grades

and it was during this time I started working on my graduate degree via the University of Colorado which I

earned in 1976. With that, I went on to teach 26 wonderful years then retired in 1999.

Upon retirement I immediately went to work for my alma mater in the athletic department as equipment

manager. I was talked into another job by a friend of mine to work for her at a corporate communications

outfit, ICG in Denver, which didn‘t work out because I simply did not like the corporate environment. I

later applied and was hired on as a social worker with Headstart. I then came to my senses! You‘re retired!

And that I did! I retired!...again.

I have not worked a day since! I am presently pursuing my hobby. I started a 501(c)(3) non-

profit in 2002 that brings the arts and humanities to at-risk and underprivileged youngsters to

include art, drama, dance and music. It is still in the development stages and I hope to have

our first production early next year. In addition, I continue working on my first children‘s

book that details me and my friends‘ childhood experiences.

Semper Fi

Roger Cortez

(continued, John Wetter)

In January 1965 following four months of the usual pre-deployment work-up for a fighter squadron we deployed to Japan assigned to MAG-11, then sta-tioned at the Naval Air Station (NAS) Atsugi. NAS At-sugi is about 20 or so miles East of Yokohama and the Yokusuka Naval Base on Tokyo Bay. A day or so after our arrival Gunny LaRiva, while we were taking a break from setting up our avionics shop, mentioned he had been at Atsugi several times; the first nearly 20 years earlier. Sounded to us like a sea-story coming on, and the longer we keep the Gunny talking the longer our break. After several prompting questions from us, Jose’s fully engaged listeners, he related his first tour at Atsugi. It turned out to be a rather fasci-nating story. Late in WWII Jose was a radar operator crewman in a night-fighter squadron. By the end of war he a mem-ber of a Headquarters and Maintenance Squadron (H&MS) squadron as a radio tech and an aircraft radio operator. In recounting his time in WWII Jose claimed to be the first American on Japanese soil at the end of the war. He was a crewman on a C-117 (a larger ver-sion of the venerable C-47) that flew from Okinawa to the then Japanese Imperial Naval Air Base at Atsugi. According to U.S. military historical accounts the first 150 Americans to land in Japan flew to Atsugi on 28 August 1945 to begin the occupation following the 14 August announcement by the Japanese government of their surrender. True or not I do not know but Jose told me the aircraft he was on landed a day earlier on the 27

th, to set up security and landing support facili-

ties for the 28th

arrivals. “Of course” Jose said, “even though we had Navy fighter aircraft flying cover for us, the main party wanted to see whether or not we got killed by rouge elements of the Japanese military before they flew in.” When the aircraft landed they taxied off the main runway onto an empty ramp and Jose, as a junior crewman, was told to jump out and chock the wheels before the engines were shut down.

Jose was first out of the aircraft with the chocks followed by several grunts with M-1’s. He told us he was more than a trifle nervous as he expected to see Japanese running out of the bushes with Samurai swords looking to chop his head off. Se-curing the aircraft and setting up a perimeter around it went without a hitch, in fact the place looked deserted. After some minutes, with every-one wondering “what next,” a staff car drove over from near the tower that was located next to one of the aircraft hangers. Aboard the car was the Japanese Navy’s base commander who pre-sented his pistol and sword to the pilot of the C-117. From that point on Jose said things were anticlimactic and he just got caught up in the general flurry of work parties preparing for the main party’s arrival. The pilot had already radi-oed back to those awaiting the outcome that, “all was well.” Things got quite hectic the 28

th and 29

th with a

flood of Army Air Corps and Navy aircraft and Army and Navy personnel, and even more so with General Douglas MacArthur’s arrival on the 30

th

to prepare for the formal surrender ceremonies aboard the USS Missouri on the 2

nd of September.

By that time MacArthur’s Army staff was fully in charge and the now minority Marines were rele-gated to every conceivable work party Jose ever thought possible. Jose was not too fond of Army folks following that experience. Several times over the next few days he said newspaper people came around to the Marines looking for stories of that first day. They always had one of MacAr-thur’s staff flunkies in charge of them that seemed overly concerned about “Marine or Navy” stories. Jose and the rest of the Marines gave their free time willingly to the press, espe-cially their experiences and impressions of their first days at Atsugi. Jose thought he was going to be famous and be in the newsreels as the

(continued, John Wetter) “First American on Japanese soil following the surrender announcement.” “No such luck” said Jose. The Army information folks gave that credit to, in Jose’s words, “some Army officer weenie that showed up the next day.” Jose’s experience reminds me of the old adage; the winners write the history, but I would add to that - “and it is put into print by those that con-trol and edit those who write it.” Jose ended that tale with something along the line of “what the hell, we won the damn war so who cares who was first in what was just a mi-nor sideshow – get back to work.” And so … we went back to work. Putting myself in Jose’s place on that day in 1945, I cannot help but think - I would not consider it a “just a minor side-show.” Jose is one of the special Marines I am proud to have known and served with. Semper Fi, JW

Ten Tips to Stay Young Forever

1. Throw out nonessential numbers. This includes age, weight

and height. Let the doctors worry about them. That is why you pay

them.

2. Keep only cheerful friends.

3. Keep learning. Learn more about the computer, crafts, garden-

ing, whatever. Never let the brain get idle. ―An idle mind is the

devil‘s workshop……And the devil‘s name is Alzheimer‘s!‖

4. Enjoy the simple things.

5. Laugh often, long and loud. Laugh until you gasp for breath.

And if you have a friend who makes you laugh, spend lots and lots

of time with HIM/HER.

6. The tears happen. Endure, grieve, and move on.

The only person who is with you your entire life, is yourself. LIVE

while you are alive.

7. Surround yourself with what you love whether it‘s family, pets,

keepsakes, music, plants, hobbies, whatever. Your home is your

refuge.

8. Cherish your health. If it is good, preserve it.

If it is unstable, improve it.

If it is beyond what you can improve, get help.

9. Don‘t take guilt trips. Take a trip to the mall, even to the next

county, to a foreign country, but NOT to where the guilt is.

10. Tell the people you love that you love them, at every

opportunity.

Tequila Cookie Recipe 1 cup of dark brown sugar

1 cup (two sticks ) butter

1 cup of granulated sugar

4 large eggs

2 cups dried fruit (dried cranberries or raisins)

1 teaspoon baking soda

1 teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon fresh lemon juice

1 cup coarsely chopped walnuts or pecans

2 cups all purpose flour

1 bottle Jose Cuervo Tequila (silver or gold, as desired)

First, sample the Cuervo to check quality.

Take a large bowl. Check the Cuervo to be sure it is of the

highest quality.

Pour another 4 ounces in a measuring cup and drink.

Turn on the electric mixer.

Beat one cup of the butter in a large fluffy bowl.

Add one teaspoon sugar. Beat again.

At this point, it is best to make sure the Cuervo is still OK.

Try another 4 ounces, just in case.

Turn off the mixer thingy. Break two leggs and add to the

bowl and chuck in the cup of dried fruit, picking the frigging

fruit off the floor.

Mix on the turner. If the fried druit gets stuck in the beaters-

ers, just pry it loose with a screwdriver.

Sample the Cuervo to check for tonsisticity.

Next, sift 2 cups of salt or something.

Check the Jose Cuervo.

Now sift the lemon juice and strain your nuts.

Add one table.

Add a spoon of sugar, or somefin k. Whatever you can find.

Greash the oven. Turn the cake tin 360 degrees and try not to

fall over.

Don‘t forget to beat off the turner. Finally, throw the bowl

through the window, finish the Cose Juervo and make sure to

put the stove in the dishwasher.

General Jones to Retire Former Commandant Jones to retire after 40 years Gen. James Jones, the U.S. military's top officer in Europe, will retire next month after 40 years in the Corps, U.S. Euro-pean Command announced. Jones passed command of EuCom to Army Gen. John Craddock during a change of command ceremony 4 Dec., according to a EuCom release, the Marine Corps Times reported. Craddock previously served as head of U.S. Southern Command in Miami. Jones, who served as the 32nd commandant, took com-mand of EuCom in January 2003 following his tour as commandant from 1999 to 2003, an unusual move for an outgoing commandant. The EuCom commander is responsible for 92 nations in Europe, Africa and the Middle East, as well as Army, Navy, Air Force, Marine and special operations forces in Europe. Jones served jointly as the EuCom commander and Supreme Allied Commander, Europe a billet respon-sible for leading NATO's military forces in Europe. When Jones took command in Europe, he brought with him SgtMaj Alford McMichael, who served as sergeant major of the Marine Corps during Jones' tour as commandant. McMichael served as the first senior enlisted adviser for NATO and retired after 36 years of service in July. Source: USMC

Thoughts by Roger Cortez

Jesus, Mary, Joseph……….! What did I get into? These were my thoughts when we left the yellow

footprints occasionally to grab some zzzzs which lasted about four to five minutes and at the end

of such time drill instructors would enter the receiving barracks barking harassment to awaken

us and ending with instruction of the intricacies of the hospital fold for our bunks. Geez! All I

wanted was some sleep! And I still believed I could whip any DI that got in my face if only I had a

good fifteen minutes of sleep.

I lost track of time somewhere between the San Diego airport and graduation. I didn‘t have a

watch and did you notice that there were no clocks in the receiving barracks? Did any one have a

watch? Somewhere between arrival and breakfast we received our issue of marine fashion in the

style of red sweat shirts with yellow graphics, oversized, olive drab utilities that were held up by a

web belt that wrapped around your waist one and a half times and the white t-shirts and boxers

shorts that inched their way into a wedgy as we marched along just daring you to reach around to

pull them from between your buttocks. And to accessorize the wear, each were given a

cap…..uhhh ― cover‖ that sunk down to your ears ―a la Dumbo‖ after you had your hair styled

with a mower. And yet that adolescent boot I spoke of earlier had the ―gonads‖ to ask for a ―high

and tight‖ and ―little off the top.‖ And then there were the white ―Converse‖ sneakers that

matched the white scalp where your hair once hung. That is the uniformity that the Corps wanted

sans the three fold cuff in the legs of your utilities that circled your ankle and made you look and

walk like a ―hayseed‖ from Fruita. Or was it Delta?

Bucket issue was in some where. We were in the squat position for some time getting all our toilet-

ries and shaving gear. Amazing to me was the double edge razor that weighed about as much as

that dull bayonet we were issued later on in the week. Why hell, a slather of milk and the DIs cat

would have been enough to lick off the facial foliage that was peach fuzz on most of us. One

misstroke with that razor would have qualified you for a section 8 for sure. Everybody had to

shave and shave we did, need it or not

It was during the bucket issue that my stomach begins to rumble. Breakfast would be soon and

visions of fried eggs, hashed browns, a side of bacon, toast and a cuppa of joe would be the fare,

nevertheless, that bar of Lava soap that was part of our issue begin to look appetizing. Chow was

announced and off we marched to the ―mess hall‖ Fruita style. When I understood the meaning

of mess hall the first word in this term became apparent. Indeed! There was a certain aroma of

food being served and eaten but then there was also the fragrance of sterility yet somewhat denied

by the odor of rejected food that immediately decomposed in garbage cans overseen by DIs who

dared you to scrape your tray of leftovers into their garbage can.

We sidestepped our way down the chow line. Breakfast was being served. No! Breakfast was be-

ing bounced on your tray by other boots who were ―short‖ and near graduation. They snickered

at us. As we inched our way down the line did you notice the two large signs high on the wall?

―EAT WHAT YOU TAKE AND TAKE WHAT YOU EAT‖ commanded one. ―OATMEAL,

EAT IT, IT‘LL STICK TO YOUR RIBS‖ commanded the other. Catchy…Cute! Once again, I

implored to the spirit trio, as I stared at the ―mess‖ that was to be my sustenance for the day. I

didn‘t recognize what had been bounced that surrounded the fried, raw, (oxymoron here) pota-

toes. It must have been the lack of sleep and I ―devil-dog dare you‖ to deny that you didn‘t want

to gag when you shoveled the first bite of marine chow down your throat.

Now I really wanted to whomp some DIs! Make me eat that….Whyyyy.....!.........Lucky for them.

It would have to wait because I needed some sleep. ‗Sides I‘d needed to have about six bowls of

that oatmeal to really tangle ass anyway.

Roger