Sadly, that happens all-to-often in today's world.

Nobody cares any more.

Pop

 

Thing is I want to learn, I managed to salvage one of his uniforms in the attic before the critters got to it and I would love to make it authentic and find the medals and ribbons it should have.

 

Have you found anything like a service record, or a form DD-214? That would list a great deal about where he was, what he did, and what ribbons and medals belong with the uniform.

We would all be happy to help translate it into understandable language.


Funny Peg should mention GLAKES and the marksmans medal - it took me fifteen years to get a chance to qual for that, and it was because the sergeant in charge of the Range at Fort Elliot (across the highway from Miramar) became my next door neighbor in base housing.

At Great Lakes, there were supposed to be re-chambered 1911-A1's that shot a .22 round. Unless it was an LR I can't imagine it having enough punch to activate the receiver, but I've never seen one because apparently all of the ammo was shot up by the instructors...

FAST FORWARD: Dateline 1998 or so.

I got a blanket invite to come on out to the range. I shot at various ranges, strong hand, weak hand, the whole drill, and the sun was in my eyes...
The range faced east.

I left a hole in the middle of the target about the size of a hardball.

Two weeks later I was informally awarded the Pistol Marksmans Medal by the AIMD AVIONICS Division Officer, first award.

Say what you want about the M9 Beretta, it worked for me!

 

Yes, there are many conversion kits still available today where you can make a 1911 fire a 22lr and it cycles just fine.

As for the ammo availability and informal stuff, I guess that's just a difference in MOS. They gave us more rounds than we wanted to fire most of the time, especially blanks when using a BFA. Live rounds or blanks, we had to fire them all off before we could leave the training area or range (to go back and clean the weapons).

Of course being a ground pounder, it makes sense we had all the ammo. Just seems funny how the ammo was in short supply in other places when we were up to our ears in it (at least during training exercises). In hot zones, I seem to recall a couple of nervous moments.

 

John C. Stennis in '04 wanted to have all watch standers qualled in small arms, and I had the great luck and fortune to be on the range right next to a gal who was obviously scared to death of guns.

It was on the range at North Island, and I had to talk her down, get her to point the weapon down range, and drop the mag & set the safety and lay the weapon on the table, after which I took it from there.

She was actually pointing the weapon (M9) in my direction but at the ground when I became aware that she was in trouble. She just didn't know what to do....

First thing I said was okay - LOOK AT ME AND POINT THE WEAPON DOWNRANGE. You're scared, I get that. Listen to me and you'll be alright...

I got her to put the gun on safe and eject the mag, then set it down on the bench. Prolly should have got a medal for that, but I doubt there is one.

Main thing was I told her there is no shame in being frightened of a thing like that. It wasn't something she was familiar with, but she knew mis-handling the gun was very dangerous. We got out of it okay, but the range was shut down for a few minutes.

It isn't the professionals that will get you in the hurt locker

 

Only those who claim to be. Never trusted the words "Trust Me" coming from anything higher than an E6. Mostly because E6 and below are the one who will actually do something. Everyone else just tells someone to do it.

No disrespect to any seniors among us. It's just I've been dealing with it as fact for too long.

And if a Warrant says "trust me" something will probably be (amusingly) destroyed.

 

Warrants and Mustangs come from amongst us.

Pray that they never forget where they came from...

On USS NIMITZ I had to deal with a Mustang who was just "CLIMBING THE TREE"


It was a bad sitrep

 

USMC 1992-1996

 

Wow I guess I'm doubly damned as I was a Chief and a Warrant.

 

The thing about ‘mustangs and men’ was that they had spent their time in the trenches with the rest of us. They knew clearly what it was like on our side of the fence and the impact their orders would have on us. Gotta tell ya, I’d serve under a mustang any day, with no reservation. Not always the case with academy/college butter bars.

The Maintenance Officer for our squadron was a lieutenant. This was a fairly recent promotion for him. He’d been a gunny, then a warrant, now a lieutenant. I was an FNG, transferring to 46’s from 53’s. Man, talk about a learning curve!! All I knew about our MO was that everyone called him Gunner behind his back and Sir to his face. Gunner expected us to know our stuff, do our job and watch out for each other. Do that and life was good. Screw up and life as we knew it, came to an end. I discovered this early one morning, after leaving a bird out on the compass rows overnight. (With the KY-28’s installed!)

Those of us who worked for Gunner would have walked through hell barefoot for him. Those who outranked him, respected him greatly. One afternoon, following a flight, the MAG CO came into the hut to drop some stuff off and told the staff sergeant at the counter that his copilot was performing the post-flight and would be in later with the gripe sheet. Gunner looked up from his desk and asked the CO who the pilot in command was. The CO answered that that was him, of course. (At this point, everyone in the hut not involved in operations, suddenly remembered an urgent task out on the flight line.) A few minutes later, we watched as the group CO headed back out to his bird. Later, he returned to maintenance control with the clipboard and gripe sheet. The next morning, our squadron CO sent a message to Gunner requesting that in the future, he not discipline the group CO.

 

Generally I like Warrant Officers. My moms dad was a CW3 in 'Nam. My other granddad was a SFC in WWII. Soldiering is in my blood, but my bones can't take the physical abuse since I totaled a Harley, and my mind is going due to mismanagement (probably academy types) that focus on the wrong things.

 

My father went Chief to Warrant then to Lieutenant. He finally retired as a Lieutenant Commander at 30 years.

 

A VERY-honorable progression!

Pop

 

Yep he got pretty far, then got out and got a bachelors degree.

 

One of these days I'd like to track down CDR Conners and LT Smith from my cruise on USS Nimitz

Damned fine guys - they helped me keep my head straight.