Tag Archives: Grunts

“Sgt Al”

I never make two posts in one day, but today it is a must. Today, a Saturday, started out as any other day in my near 80 years of life. It’s not a weekend to me since retiring, hell every day is a weekend. But then I received some news that struck a dagger into my heart. And I do mean it hit me hard and I have to share it with my followers, many of whom served and will understand how and why this sort of news hits one deep in the soul. For those who may not have been there, please excuse my posting something you may not understand. So simply pass it by if you wish — this is personal

Raiders of Echo 2/1,  it is with the heaviest of heart that I inform you of the passing of one helluva Marine with whom we all served in 1966-67. One of whom I owe so much, the best damn Platoon Sergeant anyone could ever ask for regardless of one’s position in the platoon, but especially for me as the plt cmdr. As we all knew and loved him, “Sgt Al” — aka Dennis Alessandrine. He and his son Denny, Jr attended  our first reunion.

I just got off the phone with son Denny Jr and his sister JoAnn with whom I frequently communicated in an attempt to get him to come to another reunion. I spoke with Sgt Al just two weeks ago where we spoke of the passing of his lifelong girlfriend, Peanuts as he called her. He missed her terribly. She was in a nursing home with Alzheimer’s, where for the past nine years, he had traveled there to feed her three times a day. Yes, three times a day – EVERYDAY! He never missed a day, which is why he could not attend any of  our subsequent reunions. We talked about her as we always did when we had our periodic phone conversations. She passed in March and  he was having a rough time getting over it, but was enjoying his grandchildren.

It appears from initial reports Sgt Al died of an apparent heart attack on Thursday at the age of 73. He is to be cremated and the services as now planned will be this coming Thursday in PA.

Sgt Al and I sailed to RVN together, survived our time in hell together, came back together, and remained best friends and brothers since then. I loved him like the brother I never had.

I have so many memories of our time together in RVN, more so than any other members of the company. We looked out for one another and probably saved one another’s life more times than we cared to count. As some of you know who read the book, I somehow became the Skipper’s “Pinch hitter platoon commander.” Anytime we lost a Lt for whatever reason I was sent in to take over. I always requested Sgt Al to come with me, and sometimes the Skipper approved, sometimes not.

I remember so many times when we  were setting up to cross a danger area on patrol. Two squads on either side of the crossing point along with guns and mortars, I’d take the third squad and start crossing. Sgt Al always said “Let me take the squad across, we can’t afford to lose you!” I’d laugh and say bullshit, we need you more than me.”

One time as I we were preparing for the cross I was looking for Sgt Al to give him the heads up to take charge of the base of fire squads and I looked up and the crossing squad had already started across with Sgt Al in charge.

That crossing turned live, they drew fire from two directions to their front. The crossing squad hit the deck in the swollen rice paddies and the base of fire squads opened up with a high volume of fire along with the 60 mortars and machine guns. Once fire superiority was achieved I fired a red star cluster, the base of fire squads shifted their fire outboard and the crossing squad fired and maneuvered across the paddy to the treeline and set up a defensive position.  We took no casualties and found three dead VC once we all got across.

After setting a PPB and eating a C, Sgt Al stunk to high heaven having laid in a smelly knee deep rice paddy for several minutes. He joked he was not going to demand to take the crossing squad anymore. He lied, he continued to do so every time.

He was from Philly and was fearless, always ready for whatever “Murphy” could possibly throw at us on patrol. He was a hero in my eyes and to the troops as well.  I will certainly miss our periodic phone calls.

May God welcome him into heaven with all the pomp and circumstance deserved of a hero! And God bless the entire Alessandrine family and friends. Here are some cherished photos of the brother I never had!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sgt B and Sgt Al Waiting to be helicoptered into Operation Mississippi

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

SSgtB and SgtAl finally clean

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Foreground, Sgt Mize, plt guide,  Sgt Al and Sgt B after a patrol

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Cpl Pelch (1st Sq Ldr), Sgt B, and Sgt Al

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sgt Al holding a deaffall we discovered on the patrol where I was wounded. Sgt Al led the platoon back to the company.

Sgt Al, I personally believe we made one helluva team, and we shall do so again! God Bless you, we will be together again someday, because We’ll All Die as Marines Brother.

Originally posted 2020-08-08 16:23:06.

Toxicity


A VERY WELL written article from US & World by someone who must have been a Marine. I looked him up and here is who he is: Prioleau Alexander, who is a native of Charleston, South Carolina, and a graduate of Auburn University, is a former Marine officer and a self-employed advertising entrepreneur. And trust me he pulls no punches. Enjoy. And oh BTW, I personally agree with everything he says. What say you?

US & WORLD

Fitness News – Independen. Unapologetic

Here he is with my favorite 2024 Presidential candidate

Prioleau Alexander: The Marine Ethos

Current administration making changes that go against the Corps’ congressionally mandated responsibilities …

by E Prioleau Alexander May 3, 2023 

I don’t know much about the Army, Navy, Air Force, or Coast Guard, but I do know a bit about the Marines … and I can tell you that since 1775, there is a singular mission that gets a United States Marine out of the bed before sunrise: Killing those who wish harm to the United States.

That’s it.

To understand a Marine, you must know they have one thing they fear far more than death: Failure to perform in a way worthy of those who worn the uniform before them – a reputation built on blood, pain, and death.

The Corps, you see, is not a branch of the military – it is a cult.

This is because Boot Camp and Officer Candidate School tear men down to the edge of their souls, then rebuild them as men who believe they could go head-to-head with Hell’s most powerful demons. These young men and women leave that training with the belief that there is no greater or harder-to-earn honor than wearing the Eagle, Globe, and Anchor insignia. With that goes their belief that “every Marine is a rifleman.”

Are there not men such as these in the other branches? Absolutely, but each branch has its own mission – and serving as America’s “force in readiness” rests with the Marines. It is their job to be the first to fight – taking charge of hostile situations by deploying extreme violence. In the Korean War, North Korea overran the south until there was but a tiny patch of land left unoccupied. The Marines landed, and in short order the retreat of the enemy began.

Who are the Americans who sign on to be a part of this? As liberals would say, “toxic males” join the cult because they are old-fashioned patriots – and want to be a part of America’s most elite fighting team. Tough and driven women who also want to be a part of something elite often join, even if it means certain jobs and promotions won’t be available to them.

Life is much easier for a woman in the other services, but female Marines aren’t looking for “easy.”

What binds these men and women? Their ethos. The belief that they are different from Soldiers, Sailors, and Airmen. That they can do the impossible, despite a lack of funding and using the Army’s hand-me-down gear. That they can accomplish the difficult in short order – and the impossible with a little extra time.

The importance of Marines believing themselves to be a breed apart cannot be overstated. Writing about the current failures of Marine Corps leadership, Marine Medal of Honor recipients Maj. General Jim Livingston and Colonel Jay Vargas state, “The structure of the Corps or the weapons they are provided can be changed or reversed. Ethos is different—and once extinguished, it is gone forever.”

Marines have always been told they are America’s shock troops. They are the force the President uses when it’s time to call 911. Take that away, and you might as well offer them a beret and roll them into the Army.

For Marines, “the good order and disciple” of a combat unit is paramount, and that good order and disciple is based one primary belief: We are all the same. Yes, we are different colors of green, but we are all green. We are Marines, nothing will divide us, and no one will be singled out for any kind of special treatment.

The first open strike of the Marines’ ethos came with the reversal of “Don’t ask don’t tell,” a policy that worked well for the Marines. Openly gay individuals began serving in the Corps despite the fact the Corps is mostly comprised of “toxic males” who object.

Then came women in combat arms, and many “toxic” males in the business of gunfighting don’t want to be burdened by a female who may slow them down, or receive undue attention from instinctually-concerned males if wounded in combat. (For men, hearing a man scream in pain is very different than hearing a woman scream in pain).

U.S. Marines (USMC)

Finally, we come to admittance of openly trans individuals, with the military paying for their gender mutilation surgery. This needs no further analysis.

Is honoring the particular friction a person likes during sex worth disrupting the ethos of America’s one military unit capable of serving in every clime and place? Liberals would say, “If they don’t like it, they can get out.” They are. Liberals also say, “If they don’t like the new system, don’t join.” They aren’t.

If you haven’t served in the Corps, Marines don’t care about your opinion on “toxic” men… because they know first-hand these men are the best at stacking up enemy dead like cord wood. These “toxic “males speak of themselves only as Marines, without the need for adjectives pointing out their differences.

The current mumbling point for those in favor of this lunacy is that “the Corps is stronger with diversity.” No statement could be further from the truth: The Corps has been feared by enemies of America for centuries because there’s no diversity. Everyone is green, and committed solely to the accomplishment of the mission.

Is that offensive? Too bad … the truth can hurt.

In addition to the sexual revolution in an organization that lives and dies by unit cohesion, Marines find themselves with a new Commandant — General David Berger — who seems to have lost his mind … to the point of making changes that go against the Corps’ Congressionally mandated responsibilities.

No two words sum up this evolution better than the Commandant’s retention efforts being touted as “Talent Management.” First, these warriors aren’t “talent” — they are Marines. Second, Marines don’t “manage” anything – they lead. I confess I laughed out loud at the Commandant’s cluelessness when I read the words “talent management.”

U.S. Marines (USMC)

General Livingston and Colonel Vargas sum up the current Commandant’s other changes quite succinctly, pointing to the erosion of the Corps’ ethos: “The decision has been made to eliminate all armor, and scout sniper platoons in infantry battalions. The Corps is moving forward with drastic cuts in the infantry, cannon artillery, assault amphibious vehicles, aviation, military police, assault beaching and combat service support. They have crippled the Marine Corps capabilities to respond to global crises and contingencies across the spectrum of conflict. And they are investing in experimental weapons that simply replicate war-fighting skills offered by other services.”

It is madness to make cuts to anything having to do with the man-to-man warfighting skills and equipment needed to destroy the enemy, because man-to-man warfighting is the Corps. Tanks, assault amphibian vehicles, combat engineers, artillery, and the air wing exist solely to assist infantry grunts in planting the American flag on enemy soil. The rest of the Corps exists solely to support those combat arms units. The Army, Navy, and Air Force can handle the other warfighting needs — and they are quite good at it.

If you were to meet General Livingston or Colonel Vargas in person, even if they were attired in their Dress Blues and wearing their Medal of Honor decorations, it would be perfectly acceptable for you to forgo the formalities of their rank, and greet them by saying, “Hello there, Marine.”

That is part of the uniqueness of the Corps—that rank and awards take a distant second to the honor of being called a Marine.

If the Corps isn’t going to react on a moment’s notice to rain hell on an enemy that pops up in some remote area of the globe, who will?

I hope Congress and the Corps’ current leadership will get together for a discussion centering on the question, “Why are we trying to strangle the life out of the very things that make Marines who and what they are?” There are hundreds of thousands of former Marines out here who’d love to know the answer, and they’ll be joined by a few million civilians when they no longer hear the words, “The Marines have landed, and the situation is now under control.”

I never met Colonel Vargas, but I know MajGen Livingston very well. He was my 6th Marines regimental commander when I was blessed to have had command of 2/6, Huxley’s Harlots. There is no better warrior in my book. A Marines’ Marine through and through.