Gold Star Wife

Gold Star Service Banner.

I remember the time I first saw a Gold Star. It was hanging in a large picture window of an "old" house. Growing up in the Florida Panhandle, the "Cradle of Naval Aviation", I might have seen a "Star" previously but did not understand the significance of its meaning. However, it was this occasion in Southern California that left a life-long impression.

I was a young Marine on TAD (Temporary Additional Duty) orders to 29 Palms MCAGCC, CA. During a "96" (a 4-day weekend; 24 x 4), a few of us drove to San Diego. Late Saturday afternoon, we were looking for a place a few streets off the Beach and wound up in a residential area. While driving through, I saw a "middle-aged" woman walking back to her house from the mailbox. I then noticed something hanging in the window. It stopped me in my tracks. I bailed out of the car, quickly crossed the street while the other Marines "dismounted with military precision". They had no idea what was going on, but they had my "Six". I cautiously approached the woman, hoping not to alarm her. She looked good for "middle-aged". (To a young Marine, my idea of "old" and "middle-aged" was vastly different than what it is now.) She was wearing jeans, a pastel yellow collared button-down shirt, and what we now readily identify as "deck shoes". Her hair, long and beautiful. She noticed us and asked if she could help. I stammered something about being Marines and why we were in San Diego. She smiled. I then said, "That is the first one I've ever seen," as I pointed with a nod of my head towards her large window.

Vietnam Veterans War Memorial -- aka The Wall.

The guys saw it, instantly knowing why I stopped. Framed perfectly in the picture window hung a Gold Star Service Banner. 

I don't know about them, but the whole 'join the Corps and kill the bad guys' just got real for me. (Note: This was before the Beirut bombing and losing some guys we knew.) Suddenly, my heart was beating faster, and my breathing increased. Somehow, the saliva normally in my mouth had migrated to my eyes while undergoing metamorphosis, changing from saliva to tears. My mouth was dry, but my eyes more than made up for the lack of moisture. After a few moments of silence, she explained her husband "was a Navy Corpsman attached to Marines out of Pendleton". Marines love their HMs. (Note: The US Marine Corps does not staff Clergy or Medical personnel; instead, they rely on the US Navy. HM or Hospital Corpsman, are US Navy "medics" attached to Marine units.) Each Corpsman has the same name: Doc. Her "Doc" was killed in the early '70s fighting in Vietnam. After his death, she decided to remain in the house they purchased to raise their two young children.

We made small talk. She was extremely gracious and offered to fix us something to drink, "I have lemonade". There was a part of me that wanted to accept her offer, if for no other reason than to lubricate my mouth dehydrated from the adrenaline racing through my body. We managed awkward responses declining her sincere invitation.

At the last moment, as the guys turned to walk back to the car, I summoned my courage and told her I was thankful for her husband's service, honored to have met her, and offered my condolences for her loss. She closed the few feet between us, took me in her arms, and hugged me, while saying "Thank you". After a brief but emotionally charged embrace she dropped one arm, turned me towards the guys while still embracing me with her other arm, and told us something like, "I know you are Marines but you are not invincible. Take care of yourself and look after each other. You do not want your mommas or wives ever getting one of those" as she pointed with a nod of her head towards the Gold Star Service Banner.

The adrenaline dump was nearly over, and emotions were beginning to take control. Marines Do Not Cry—I guess we were the inspiration for Major League Baseball's saying, "There's no cryin' in BASEBALL!"—but I could not stop the emotion filling my entire being. At that moment, I did not want to think about any of this and regretted opening my mouth. All I had to do was just turn and walk to the car with the guys. As I listened to her words, I became more aware of her hair. It was brunette with natural auburn highlights, but what caught my attention was the fragrance. Her hair smelled like a prairie of wildflowers. Peaceful. Tranquil. Serene.

Suddenly, I felt better. I was not going to embarrass myself in front of other Marines, and especially this sweet woman. I told her I was glad I met her and would forever look at Gold Stars differently.

She was still standing in the driveway as we pulled away, waving goodbye. We ended up not going where we had originally planned. Somehow, the girls in a strip club just could not compare with the beautiful woman we had just met.

That night, as I lay in my cheap hotel double rack, I thought back over the moments I spent with her. I thought of her husband dying in the jungles of Southeast Asia. Did she stop him in his tracks the first time he saw her? How many times had he heard "I have lemonade"? Did he have a similar memory of seeing her standing in the driveway waving goodbye? Perhaps a toddler at her side while holding a baby? Did the fragrance of her hair bring a smile to his face as he lay in his rack at night thinking of her? I envisioned the last moments before his death; writhing in pain, the coppery, iron-rich, acrid aroma of blood mixed with gunpowder filling his nostrils while screaming out in pain. Then perhaps God, in His infinite mercy, blew the scent of a prairie of wildflowers onto the breeze. Lavender, Honeysuckle, Jasmine, Lilac—every sweet fragrant chasing away the acrid, stale scent of death. Wafting to and fro, dancing to the slowing rhythm of his beating heart. Peaceful. Tranquil. Serene.

Arlington National Cemetery, Memorial Day.

Often, I wish I had taken a photo of the meeting or simply asked her name. I quickly dismissed that because my feelings of both immense gratitude and remorse could not be more genuine had I known all her personal details. Strangely, this is how we should feel towards all Gold Star families. We do not need to know them to appreciate their sacrifices and losses.

I shall never forget the sacrifices and loss of this Gold Star Wife and all Gold Star families. For them, every day is Memorial Day.

To God, Country, and Corps I shall remain,

SEMPER FIDELIS

"Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends."

John 15:13

Author's Note

The Service Banner tradition began in World War I as a means of honoring families that had loved ones serving during the war.  They were standardized and codified during World War II. A Blue Star Service Banner was given to the family of a Soldier, Sailor, or Marine serving at home or abroad. Additional Blue Stars were added to the same flag for multiple family members in service. Upon the heartbreaking news their loved one had paid the ultimate price, a Blue Star was removed and a Gold Star sewn in its stead. Each banner is limited to four stars, 

Blue and Gold Star Service Banners

Jerk a Knot in Their Head

Last night I, like many of my friends, watched the news coverage of the #BaltimoreRiots. With all the thoughts and emotions I experienced, I kept thinking of one question: How long do you allow a child to throw a hissy fit? (That is a temper tantrum for my friends North of Mason-Dixon line.)

Sometimes, you let the child have a moment but then you step in. No child of mine ever had a prolonged fit. What I saw last night was an adult version of a hissy fit but had far worse repercussions.

Rioters. (Photo: Chip Somodevilla/Getty)

First, the Mayor says she allowed those that wanted to express themselves by destroying property "space" to do so. She later denied making any such statement even when video evidence proved her wrong. Second, she did not act fast enough (setting a curfew, putting more police on the street, and calling Governor to ask for help, i.e. National Guard). Third, the mayor told the Police Chief (and some reports indicate President Obama even sent word) to exercise restraint. That is just ridiculous. You must not allow one person to commit one crime. Do not allow them to throw one rock or brick, break one window, or make any type of assault on innocent citizens and certainly the Police.

Baltimore Mayor, Stephanie Rawlings-Blake.

She made the argument that any police involvement/intervention would escalate the situation. Why then even deploy police? Why have riot squads? The actions (reactions) mirror the response of the Obama administration on the world stage. We do not combat fanatical Islamist extremists with force. Rather, we give them "space". We see how Putin, al-Assad, and now the Iranian leaders are exploiting Obama's inactions to force their will on others. Obama believes if we leave them alone, they will leave us alone.

Another word for this is appeasement. You should never give in to the lawless and certainly those actively engaged in violent behavior. Just see how well this worked out for Europe in the late 1930s led by Neville Chamberlain and his appeasement of Hitler.

No, you do not allow your child to throw a hissy fit. You "jerk a knot in their head" and they "straighten right up". Again, to translate for y'all Yankees, this means you use age-appropriate corrective discipline to change the attitude and BEHAVIOR of your child.

Golf's Big Three

Arnold Palmer, Jack Nicklaus, Gary Player. 79th Masters, (04 APR 2015)

Earlier today, golf's "Big Three", Arnold Palmer, Gary Player, and Jack "Golden Bear" Nicklaus, officially opened the 79th Masters Tournament.

I, like many others, from the curious to duffers to "pros" will watch the television coverage. Once again, I will make a promise to myself to 'one day' watch from the gallery at Amen Corner. During commercials, I will remember the courses I have played from California to Texas, from Ohio to Florida. Unconsciously, I will smile when I think of a 300-yard drive in front of "C" wing executives from my Fortune 50 employer. Then, my second shot was on a Par 5 when I used a slight fade to place me within chipping distance on a blind green. Or, the chip-in for an Eagle on that same hole. I no longer remember where I broke 90, but I know my best round was a 79. So many things, events, places--all forgotten. Regardless of the courses, the shots, the scores, I will always remember Saturday afternoons in the 1970s.

Like most people of my age, we had busy Saturdays during the Spring and Summer. Working in the yard. Performing repairs or maintenance on a vehicle. Often, just going 'to work'. After all the "To-dos" were finished, we made our way into the air-conditioned rooms of our homes. On Saturdays, the TV was always on channel 3 (WEAR), the Pensacola ABC station.

Many Saturdays, ABC aired a golf tournament; we watched Tom Weiskoph, Hubie Green, Hale Irwin, Johnny Miller, Tom Watson, and, of course, Arnold Palmer, Gary Player, and Jack Nicklaus. However, it was not a course or player that first turned my head towards the TV. Instead, it was a song.

Palmer, Player, and Nicklaus on the tee at Firestone Country Club, Akron, OH, (OCT 1965)

More specifically, it was an instrumental theme: "Love's Theme" by Barry White and The Love Unlimited Orchestra. All my golf memories from the mid-70s to the "79th" are woven together with "Love's Theme" serving as the thread. Anytime I hear this song, I am taken back 40 years to Saturdays in Milton, FL.

Enjoy this song, and maybe it will take you back to a happy time and place. If I ever get to the Masters and meet the "Big Three", look for me in Amen Corner.  I will be the guy with his eyes closed, earbuds in, and a huge smile on his face, listening to this song.

Battle of Ed's Shed

USA National Flag

The day started out uneventful. Not unlike other late-March or early-April days in North Alabama. That would all change in a matter of hours. After eating lunch I walked into the backyard, water bottle in one hand and a mechanics rag in the other to my newly built shed (last summer). It is elevated to keep out water and both legged and legless creatures. Inside my mowers and lawn tools awaited me. I opened the door and was caught in a hasty ambush.

USMC Flag

Dozens of huge red wasps swarm at me. I dashed left, spun, taking one out with the rag, and made a hasty, yet tactical retreat. From a safe distance, I performed a quick recce and identified at least four enemy encampments (nests). I returned to my FOB--Forward Operating Base (garage) to quickly don my body armor (shirt and hat) and arm myself with both a long-range weapon (Raid Wasp and Hornet Spray) and close combat breacher (broom). I checked my med kit (medicine cabinet) to verify I had appropriate emergency medicine (Benedryl), then fueled up on Go Juice (Dr Pepper). Like many warriors before me, I shared a tender, heartfelt moment with my wife (I hollered at her saying I was going back outside).

Ed's Shed

All my training kicked in. I approached from an angle that provided both cover and concealment. I crept closer and was soon at the jumping-off place. I noticed their scouts flying in a protective formation. I checked my weapons and steeled my nerves. With a Rebel Yell, I flung open the door and attacked. I hit the first nest in the very back. Quickly re-aimed and hit a second. By now the enemy had scrambled their air wing. Some went high. Some went low. It was a nightmare--an evil marriage of blitzkrieg and kamikaze. I felt them zipping by my face; trying to sink their stinger missiles in my flesh. I bobbed. I weaved. I zigged. I zagged. I start yelling at them. DIE YOU SONS-OF-BITCHES! I took aim--leading them and shooting them in midflight. First one, then another. The battle turned bloody. Hand-to-hand, or at least foot-to-wing. Blood and guts stained the deck a brownish-red. I was then in a position to attack the most well-fortified encampment: in the A-frame directly above the hatch (door). Adrenalin coursing through my body robbed me of saliva. With a dry mouth and a "thousand-yard stare," I took aim and fired twice. Both hitting the target. I quickly cleared the nests with the breacher.

Enemy KIA

I stood alone on the field of battle. I felt a little light-headed, dismissing it as the post-battle shakes. The Fog of War. Everything was hazy. No, more actually foggy. It took a moment to realize it was the "fog" from the spray can. I reached for my gas mask only to realize I left it at FOB. I retreated to a safe overwatch distance.

Enemy KIA

After a while, I return to perform a BDA (Battle Damage Assessment) and get a body count. Lying on the deck were the remains of the enemy. Thirty-seven confirmed enemy KIA. There is no greater honor than to give your life for your country or cause. Today, I gave that honor to my enemy. You are welcome.

For nearly 240 years Marines have fought in some of the bloodiest battles. Montezuma. Tripoli. Belleau Wood. Iwo Jima. Chosin. Khe Sanh. Fallujah. Now we add one more storied battle to the annals of USMC lore: The Battle of Ed's Shed. Close your eyes and you can hear an all-male squad of Marines singing “Marines' Hymn”. An American flag blowing in the breeze.

I have already been approached by some publishing houses wanting my story. Clint Eastwood wants to bring it to the big screen. I would agree to all provided they leave out the final scene. My wife laughed from the Rear Echelon (back deck) telling me I looked like a drunk fat man attempting kung-fu movements while experiencing some sort of seizure.

Perhaps I should not have killed all the wasps and allowed one to sneak behind our lines.

Semper Fidelis!

"The Lord Helps Those That Help Themselves"

Baskett"s Illustrated 1717 Elephant Folio "Vinegar Bible", including six engraved maps.

Alex, I will take "Things Not in the Bible but That Won't Stop Me From Saying So" for 5 Million (illegal aliens)".

One thing we know for sure: The Madrassas Obama studied at as a young child did not teach American History or the Holy Bible. Remember in 2008 on the campaign trail he boasts he had "...been in 57 states--I think one left to go"? In 2011, while in Honolulu, he said Hawai'i was part of Asia. However, these pale in comparison with his two recent attempts at quoting the Bible.

In his prime-time address a couple of weeks ago he said this: "Scripture tells us that we shall not oppress a stranger--for we know the heart of a stranger--we were strangers once, too. My fellow Americans, we are and always will be a nation of immigrants. We were strangers once, too."

Earlier this week in Nashville he offered this: "The good book says don't throw stones at glass houses, or make sure we're looking at the log in our eye before we are pointing out the mote in other folks eyes." He also drew an analogy of the Christmas story of Joseph and Mary implying they were strangers in a foreign land and no one would give them refuge.

My first observation is his aversion to referring to the Holy Bible as such or simply "The Bible". Instead, he uses euphemisms like "scripture" and "good book". Why can't he call it what it is? He has no problem quoting surahs and referring to the Qu'ran as 'The Holy Qur'an'.

Moving past that, let's examine these two references. Starting with the first, I have searched for what he said and cannot find the exact wording in any verse in most of the popular translations. It is most likely from Exodus either 22:21 or a 23:9.

The first states, "Do not mistreat or oppress a foreigner, for you were foreigners in Egypt." The second, "Do not oppress a foreigner; you yourselves know how it feels to be foreigners because you were foreigners in Egypt."

File photo of President Obama speaking in Nashville, TN (DEC. 2014).

To understand scripture, you must first look at the original language, in this case, Ancient Hebrew, the times of the events juxtaposed by cultural customs, the personalities of the writer(s), and compare singular verses to the entirety of the Bible. (NOTE: This is not all a serious Bible study student does. It is not my intent to be overly theological. Before any Bible study, one should begin with prayer, meditate on the scriptures, and seek God's wisdom and understanding. So please do not focus on my not including these in my overview.) With that in mind, place these two verses in context. The children of Israel, the Jewish people, moved to Egypt because of a drought. They lived there for a long time peaceably and coexisted with Egyptians. However, their numbers multiplied at a faster rate and the Egyptians became fearful of this. They then made the Jews their slaves where they lived in bondage for 400 years until Moses demanded of Pharaoh "Let My people go". Chapters 20 thru 24 take place after the Pharaoh released the Jews and they were traveling thru the desert and are camped at Mt. Sinai. Recognizing they were a free group of people or a community, they needed a set of laws to govern. The Ten Commandments were given to Moses in Chapter 20. These are moral laws. Chapter 20 thru 24 are part of the Sinaic Covenant which includes society laws (fair treatment of foreigners, widows, orphans), criminal laws (murder and bodily injury), etc.

With that in mind, let's examine two words, oppress and foreigner. The first, oppress, according to Strong's Concordance #3905 (לָחַץ Lachats) means to press, crush, afflict, force, distress. Remember, the Jews were made slaves and knew what being oppressed meant first hand. However, there is a huge difference between what 'scripture' means and the intent of his amnesty executive order. Obama is giving them medical benefits, public housing, free school lunches, workers' compensation, etc.

The second word, foreigner, or in some versions, stranger or sojourner according to Strong's #1616 (גֵּר Ger) means guest or someone living among others temporarily. Again, this is not the case. These illegal aliens came here with the intent to stay, not be a temporary guest.

Finally, addressing his second attempt referencing throwing rocks in glass houses and Joseph and Mary. His "good book" might contain this tidbit but the Holy Bible does not. To me it sounds like it should follow, "Confucius say, people in glass houses should not throw rocks, Grasshopper". As for his Christmas story, he alleges Joseph and Mary were strangers in a foreign land. Once again it is a swing and miss. They traveled to Bethlehem because they had to return to their legal city of residence to be counted in the census. They were from Bethlehem. Basically, they were going home. Not strangers.

Artist depiction of Mary and Joseph traveling to Bethlehem.

For many, these little misquotes mean nothing. His supporters argue it is the message he is attempting to convey. If that is the case, then it is okay for a used car salesman to say whatever he wants just to put you in a car. How would you feel about that? Perhaps you remember, "if you like your [health insurance] plan you can keep it. If you like your doctor, you can keep him". Words have meanings. We are accountable for the words we use. If I gave the wrong words in my response (phrased in the form of a question) to a Jeopardy clue, I cannot then argue with Alex Trebek that everyone knew what I meant.

It is like, he and some on the Left are trying to sell their amnesty position by invoking God, tugging on emotions, and thinking we must do something. Perhaps they subscribe to the maxim "The Lord helps those that help themselves". I am sure this appears in a book somewhere, perhaps even a good book, but it is not in the Holy Bible. But don't be surprised if you might hear someone say it is just to sell an amnesty program.

Just a Typical December Morn

Archive USN photo showing USS Arizona's magazine exploding.

I woke to a still, tranquil Sunday morning. It is a bit cloudy here with a crispness in the air. Just a typical December morn.

Today, on an island in the Pacific, they will wake to a mostly clear day with high clouds. Just a typical December morn.

Probably not much different than a SUN morning in 1941 when the Imperial Japanese Navy attacked the US military base at Pearl Harbor, HI. Residents woke expecting to go through their normal routines, coffee while reading the newspaper in view of the blue Pacific waters, attending church, and perhaps some sleeping in from a night of dancing.

Typical newspaper headline.

At 0749 local time, Japanese air-attack commander Mitsuo Fuchida tells his telegraph operator to send a message: to to to (attack). He then commanded a second transmission, one regrettably we all know: to ra to ra to ra (attack, surprise achieved). Some Japanese pilots misunderstand the message (there is a space of time between the letters "o" and "r". Without the space, the word becomes TORA, Japanese for Tiger. Many of them were aware of a Japanese proverb "A tiger goes out 1,000 ri (2,000 miles) and returns without fail". They took this as their own personal mission.

At 0755 local time, the first bomb was dropped—five minutes too early. The Japanese ambassador was delivering a declaration of war on the USA and hostilities were scheduled for 0800 local time (Hawaii).

At 0950 local time, the first wave of the strike force was arriving back at their carriers, while the second wave started its attack. Minutes later, the second wave was leaving Pearl returning to their carriers.

120 minutes.
318 US ships and airplanes were destroyed.
1,000 wounded.
2,500 killed.

The news of the surprise attack would take its time to reach the eyes and ears of the American public back on the mainland. Some learned of the news in theatres when the movie was interrupted, and the patrons told. Some heard the news while clustered in public meeting places. Others heard the news as they gathered around the family entertainment system—a radio. When they woke earlier in the day, they had not expected this. Just a typical DEC morn.

USS Arizona Memorial.

I have often thought about the moment right before a person's world is torn asunder. The moment right before a tragedy occurs. The moment right before there is no longer "normal". We all have individual moments: when we learn a loved one has cancer; when we learn of a death from an MVA; when we learn the baby miscarried. I remember the moment right before pain would consume my body. However, these moments were experienced as individuals. The attack on Pearl was a moment we shouldered as a nation. A shared experience.

No one expected the morning events of December 7, 1941, any more than the morning events of September 11, 2001. Yet, they happened and to all, it seemed like a typical morn. We grew stronger as individuals and collectively as a nation. But let us never forget the "date which will live in infamy" that started as just a typical December morn and may we always 'Remember Pearl Harbor'.

May God Bless America.
For God, Country, and Corps, I shall remain - 

Semper Fidelis

We Are The Marines

I am a US Marine. I shall remain a Marine until the day God calls me home. I have not worn the uniform or received any military pay in years, but I have never stopped being a Marine. Marine is a title that I earned and claimed over 30 years ago.

I am no different than any other that has worn the uniform bearing the Eagle, Globe, and Anchor. I am never alone because Marines leave no one behind and we take care of our own. I am part of a brotherhood that many will never understand. We were forged under pressure allowing the fire to burn out all the dross, leaving behind the tempered spirit and strengthened body of a warrior.

Major Samuel Nichols was the first Marine and served as the first Commandant. The second Marine, Robert Mullan was a bar owner. He was commissioned as a Captain and became the first Marine Recruiter. The first Marines swore allegiance to a fledgling country on 10 NOV 1775, in a Philadelphia, PA bar called Tun Tavern. By their service, they helped plant the seeds of the Tree of Liberty. Their spilled blood watered the seedling. Their blood runs through the veins of every Marine that has come after. This blood, this life force bands us together as brothers. This blood, this Esprit De Corps, connects every Marine, has been shed to protect this Country.

"We few, we happy few, we band of brothers. For he today that sheds his blood with me, shall always be my brother." -- William Shakespeare | Henry V 

Blood that was spilled in “every clime and place”.

1stSgt Brad Kasal, 13 NOV 04.

Blood that clumped the desert sands of the Barbary Coast in a place called Tripoli.

Blood that ‘striped’ the Halls of Montezuma.

Blood that was sweetened by Cuban sugar.

Blood that mixed with the mud at the bottom of European trenches.

Blood that stained the sand on South Pacific beaches.

Blood that froze on a reservoir called Chosin.

Blood that dotted hillsides and valleys of Far East jungles.

Blood that painted the barrack walls in Beirut.

Blood that was spent liberating Kuwait.

Blood that ran as thick as sweet crude in Iraq.

Blood that blackened Afghanistan deserts.

“We have fought our country’s battles” in places like Chapultepec, Tripoli, Belleau Wood, Tarawa, Iwo Jima, Okinawa, Inchon, Chosin, Da Nang, Hué, Khe San, Beirut, Kandahar, Fallujah, and Mosul.
We will continue to voluntarily go to “far off Northern lands, and sunny tropic scenes” and do whatever is necessary. We will “fight for right and freedom”. It is what we were destined to do, We are Marines.

Once we earned the title, we are accepted into the Brotherhood of Marines. We become warriors and we draw on the legacy of all previous Marines. We are strengthened by this legacy, and in return, we strengthen the Corps. We are defined by our character that consists of three values: Honor, Courage, and Commitment.

Honor: First and foremost, each Marine must adhere to a code of personal integrity, holding himself accountable for his actions, and do everything in his power to not soil the reputation of the Corps.

Courage: We must have the courage and moral fortitude to do what is right, whether on the battlefield or “back on the block”.

Commitment: We commit ourselves to a higher standard and are determined to never give up and never quit. We dedicate ourselves to achieving excellence. We live out our motto of Semper Fidelis—Always Faithful—to God, Country and Corps in all that we do.

We know and accept we are Marines 24/7/365, in and out of uniform. “Once a Marine, Always a Marine”. We are the standard for which others model. We are the benchmark for which others strive. We are the First to Fight, we are the Leathernecks, we are the Devil Dogs, we are the Few, we are the Proud, WE ARE THE MARINES.

Each 10 NOV, I take a moment to reflect on my time in the Corps, who we are and what we do. I think about the Marines that came before me, their legacy, and sacrifices. I think of the Marines currently serving dealing with their injuries. I think of those that gave their all. I am filled with pride, gratitude, and sadness. I listen to the Marines' Hymn. All of this puts a lump in my throat. I then lift a glass of Jack Daniels and say, “here’s health to you and to the Corps”. Guess this is only fitting since the Corps started in a bar.

Thank you United States Marine Corps for making me the man I am. Thank you for all you have done for this country and the World. Thank you for 239 years of serving proudly. Happy Birthday Marines.

OOH RAH!

“The tree of liberty must be refreshed from time to time with the blood of patriots and tyrants.” - Thomas Jefferson

[Note: For mobile users, the Commandant's birthday message is below, but does not appear on some mobile devices. If you would like to view this touching message, click on this link.]
Commandant's 2014 USMC Birthday Greeting