From November 26, 1963 Until November 26, 1967
When I was 15 years old I saw my first Marine Corps poster and at that moment I knew I wanted to be a Marine. It burned at me for the next two years. The day I turned seventeen, November 13, 1963 I was at the recruiting office. Yah Sarge, I want to go in the Corps. OK, no sweat, I'll have my parents sign the papers. How embarrassing.
I took the papers home and placed them on the table between my Mom and Dad who was having their coffee. I ask "Will you PLEASE sign these", and then ran in the bathroom and closed the door, afraid I was just about to get killed for not talking to them first. Of course Mama cried, but Dad had served thirteen years in the Army and he thought the Corps would do me good. I love you Dad, and I'm sorry for making you cry Mama.
Thirteen days later I crawled out of the back of a truck and heard: You maggots will fall in on the yellow foot prints, there, move, get your scummy asses out of my truck. I had gone from a civilian asshole to a military maggot. When the hell do I get to be a Marine? I was placed in platoon 388 at MCRD San Diego somewhere around November 27, 1963.
I survived and graduated boot camp. Then it was off to Pendleton for 2nd ITR. Now this was what I was after but still way too much bullshit. Finally the day had arrived. I got to go home for ten whole days as a MARINE. I went home and found I no longer belonged there. I had grown and at seventeen I was a man. I couldn't wait to get back to my Marine Corps way of life.
In March of 1964 I reported in to 33 Area, "K" Company 3rd Bn. 5th Marines at Camp Margarita, Camp Pendleton, California. I was now a GRUNT MARINE, but the new guy to the Company. I had to take the normal shit from the old salts, but one week later I was given the nickname RED DOG. I have used that nickname every since.
We went on "Lock On" training on Operation Silver Lance at Camp Pendleton gearing up for Vietnam. We then shipped out to Okinawa and became 1st Battalion, 3rd Marines. On Okinawa, we went through Raider training, then headed for Vietnam. I was now an E4 and had been the squad leader of the same guys since I had been an E3. We were good together and we were close.
We took the beach in Da Nang just like they took the beaches in WWII, but we were not fired at. We then mounted some 6X's and was trucked out to some outpost where we became "D" 1/3, and that was my last truck ride in Vietnam. After a couple months of running patrols and ambushes I was sent back to "B" 1/3. Didn't last long, cause on December 25, 1965, I was sent to Delta 1/4.
I had 3rd Pla. 1stSqd. and on May 17, 1966 the VC swept through us under mortar fire leaving thirteen wounded and two killed. I and my squad was wounded with one of the KIA's belonging to me. I was shipped to Japan with wounds to the face, back and left leg. Forty-five days later I was mistakenly sent back to Vietnam with unhealed wounds. I figured what the hell and requested to go back to "D" 1/4. I stayed with Delta until November of 1966.
I came stateside and reported to "L" 3/6 Camp Lejeune, N.C. where I was promoted to E5. We formed the Company and headed to Cuba for a tour. We came back to Lejeune in September of 1967 and I was getting short. I wanted to ship over but my wounds were hurting and I couldn't be a good grunt any more so I got out on November 26, 1967.
Thirteen years later on the same day I left the Corps I enlisted in the Nebraska National guard. Giving them three years and not really getting into the Army way of doing things, I got out an E6 on November 26, 1983
I love the Corps today as much as I loved the Corps at fifteen, and to be in the company of the Marines I served with in Delta 1/4 Vietnam is my fondest wish and the reason this site was built.
David T. (RED DOG) Roberts
Sergeant of Marines
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