Reveille went super early.  The mission for the day was vertical envelopment. Instead of climbing down cargo nets and boarding Mike boats like the World War Two island hopping campaigns in the Pacific, we would board helicopters. But we had a lot to do before our battalion took off.

We went to early chow then returned to our compartment to pack. We needed to pack 4 C-ration meals and fill our 3- or 4 one-quart canteens with water.  We had to put on all our gear including our flak jacket, ruck sack and helmet. With all our gear including our ten-pound M14 rifle, each man carried a load of about 50 pounds. The guys in Weapons platoon – the machine gunners and mortar men carried even more.

Then we waited for the designated sailor to lead us upstairs to the flight deck. It was another of those hurry-up and wait situations. Boring, boring, boring then a mad rush.

Almost everyone looked tired already. Almost no one got much sleep on a rectangular metal snare-drum of stretched canvas.

Then here was our Navy guide in his brightly colored jump-suit yelling at us, “Let’s go!  Let’s go!”

We awkwardly climbed the stairs and burst out onto the grey pre-dawn flight deck. The helicopters were already revved up.  We followed our guide down the flight deck to our designated helicopter. As the day before, teams of 20 of us entered up the rear ramp in the roaring prop wash of the huge whirling rotors into the interior of the helicopter. We grabbed our assigned seat on the narrow metal-framework and fabric bench lining each side of the interior.

There was no room to lean back and relax. We sat rigidly cradling our rifle. The noise was so deafening that even shouting to the Marine right next to you, he could barely hear you.

As the first streaks of dawn sunlight split the greyness, our helicopter lifted off the deck, shuttered, then dipped its nose and picked up speed as it moved down the flight deck and out over 360 degrees of blue Pacific. The huge ship quickly shrunk to miniature size.

Soon we could see the coast. Then the lazy surf sliding up and down the shore. The rugged mountains of Camp Pendleton soon appeared.  Inside the helicopter, even with all our gear on, it was almost cold.

From several thousand feet up, the helicopter rapidly descended toward the landing zone. As soon as it touched down, the ramp dropped and we charged out the rear of the helicopter. Though still early in morning, the sun was hot. The cook breeze of the flight from the LPH carrier to the LZ was a distant memory. With all our gear, we were soon sweating.

First, we formed a large perimeter around the LZ and faced outboard. One by one, the helicopters landed, unloaded and took off.

And then, it was hot and quiet. Organized by platoons and companies, we moved into the steep, rugged mountains and began to climb. The broad trail soon deteriorated into more of a rough, rutted goat path. The steep climb was unforgiving. As the morning progressed, the sun got hotter and hotter. Dripping sweat, we labored under our loads. Once at the military crest, we followed the steep ridge line east, more inland. Then took our first break.  We could take off our pack but not our flak jacket or helmet. We faced outboard, fully alert and tried to discipline our water consumption.

We humped along the ridge till mid-day, then stopped for water and a C-ration break. After half an hour, we were moving again. We humped over broken ground, stopping for 10-minute water breaks every hour.  

Late afternoon, we joined the battalion perimeter. Within our company sector, our platoon was assigned our sector of the perimeter. We paired up and began to dig in. The ground was dry and rock-hard. Gary and I took turns picking and shoveling. It took us a couple of hours of hot, sweaty work before we had a hole big enough for us both to get in the hole and below ground level.

Our hole dug, we set up our gear for the night. Then we pulled out our C-rations and prepared our evening chow. We each made our C-rat stove, dug out a heat tab and started heating our meal. With my handy C-rat can opener, I opened the lid of a large can of beef stew so I still had a handle on the can. As the stew warmed up, the aroma made me realize how hungry I was. While it heated, I ate some crackers and cheese spread.

When the heat tab burned out and the stew was reasonably warm, I inhaled it. While I made my can / cup of instant coffee with a pack of sugar and a pack of powdered creamer, I ate the large, thick, cookie-sized soft chocolate candy that was about the consistency of a Snickers bar but not that good.

As daylight began to fade, we sipped our coffee and smoked our last cigarette. Darkness brought a cold breeze to the ridge. I was wide-awake so I took first watch. I soon heard the deep breathing of a tired Marine.

Our body and our health are the most precious thing we have. Investing in quality health is the best investment we can make. High-quality health pays huge benefits for decades. There is no substitute for a fully functional body and clear, sharp mind. Complete animal protein is the foundation of our body and our health. High-quality protein is essential for a strong immune system. With high quality health, we are an asset to ourselves and to others.

Again, thank you for your support. I wish you and your family the very best of health.
Joe

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