Grunts, John Wayne and Mary Poppins

As I approach the Memorial Day weekend (no longer a time for solemn reflection on those who paid the highest price of military service, but just another three day weekend to enrich hotel operators), it’s good to pause and remember vignettes from my service, particularly in an era where only one percent of the population serves in uniform.

No war stories here folks. Just some random snapshots of my service as a Marine almost 50 years ago:

Carrying a packboard with a load equal to half or more of my weight (125 pounds on a 5 foot, eleven inch frame in Vietnam) which consisted of about 40 pounds of radio and batteries, assorted smoke grenades, ammo, flak jacket, three one-quart canteens of water (six pounds) -- a total load of about 60 pounds. Strap all that on, and you’ll really grunt, which I think is the source for the term “grunt” to describe foot sloggers.

Walk just a mile with the above load under an unforgiving sun with 90 percent humidity, and sweat consisting of about 50 percent salt poured into your eyes, because someone back in the 1960s had the brilliant idea that liberal doses of salt tablets prevented heat stroke.

“John Wayne” was the Marine term in Vietnam for a C-ration can opener -- a bit of back-handed mockery of a man who portrayed Marines in movies but never bothered to serve himself.

Speaking of C-rations, those of us who served know the fastest way to heat up water for a canteen cup of hot chocolate and instant coffee packaged was with a tab of C4 plastic explosives. Take a match to that C4 tab and it will produce intense heat that will boil water, fast, real fast. Don’t try this at home, folks.

The absurdity of watching Mary Poppins in an outdoor movie theater in Vietnam in 1966, with a bedsheet for a screen and ammo crates for seats. My buddy Bill Schwartz managed to memorize all the words to “Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!” and plagued us with renditions of the song for the rest of our Vietnam tour. Yes, some real Marines sang show tunes.

Operating a five-ton truck with a mounted, World War II-era searchlight at ten fixed positions around the perimeter of the Danang airbase in 1966 to theoretically detect Viet Cong trying to sneak into the base.

Years later, during a dinner with Army General William Westmoreland, the commander of all U.S. forces in Vietnam, I related my searchlight tale, and asked him if he knew anything about it. He replied, “You Marines are idiots -- you weren’t supposed to use the searchlight as a giant flashlight. You were supposed to bounce the light off clouds to create artificial moonlight.” That struck me as an equally loopy tactic.

The insanity of returning from Vietnam to Camp Lejeune, N.C., to find out that participation in a jungle war did not exempt me from mandatory jungle warfare training in Panama.

Enough of the trip down an old memory lane. Now it’s time to --

Honor Those Who Bore the Burden

Here’s my honor roll friends and relatives who served. Send me yours, and we’ll post it: My father, Walter Brewin, who served in the Army Air Corps in the Philippines and Okinawa in World War II, and my father-in-law, Bill Suess, a tin can sailor who served in the Atlantic and Pacific during the Big One.

My comrades from 2nd Battalion, 9th Marines and 3rd Battalion, 9th Marines communications platoons including Rex Dieterle, Joel Engebretsen, Herbierto Gonzalez, J.T. King, Larry Leal, Mike Metzger, Bill Schwartz, Lorenzo Turner and Tom Wilmot.

Major Cornelius Ram , the best company commander a Marine could hope for.

Lewis B. Puller Jr., fellow Marine and friend who touched me with his grace.

Leon Daniel, Marine and Korea War veteran who also served for years as a reporter in Vietnam, including a stint as the UPI bureau chief in Saigon during the Big Bug Out. Leon was a buddy who also served as a mentor and source of inspiration.