INSIGHT
Can you ...
see the tears
hidden deep
within the desert of my soul?
Can you ...
feel the pain
wrapped tightly
beneath the ice of non-emotion?
Can you ...
hear the cries
coming silently
from a past, never allowed to live?
Can you ...
try to seek
without judging
the man who stands behind shadows?
Can you ...
open your heart
looking beyond
the warrior, the child, the fool?
Can you ....................
Lawrence Pilcher ~ HM3 1969
(1999-2000)
I shall not walk in your footsteps
but I will walk by your side
I shall not walk in your image
I've earned my own title of pride
We've answered the call together
on sea and foreign land
when the cry for help was given
I've been there right at hand
Whether I am on the ocean
or in the jungle wearing greens
giving aid to my fellow man
be it sailors or marines
So the next time you see a corspman
and you think of calling him "squid"
think of the job he's doing
as those before him did
And if you ever have to go out there
and your life is on the block
look at the one right next to you
I'm the one called "Doc"
Harry D. Penny, Jr. H.M.C. (A.C.) U.S.N.
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Marine Corps Green
From the halls of
Montezuma –-
First words of a famous song.
When Marines go into battle,
A Navy corpsman goes along.
From its very beginning
The Corps has steadily grown,
And the attitude of Marines is,
"We take care of our own."
Marines may give up their water
Or even their last bean,
But never their Navy corpsman
Wearing Marine Corps green.
If you are looking for trouble
Of a kind you’ve never seen,
Attack their Navy corpsman,
The one in Marine Corps green.
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I am a Navy Corpsman...
I possess the enthusiasm of youth and the wisdom and experience of an old man.
I am 3 parts doctor...
1 part nurse, 2 parts marine, 1 part yeoman and 3 parts mom, yet I am 100 % sailor.
I am unemployable to the civilian world in my given profession yet have been the very life line for countless marines, soldiers and sailors since 1778.
I have carried marines from the battle field...
and have been carried reverently myself by marines who mourned my passing like that of a brother or sister.
I am young, I am old, brave, scared and scarred, my title has changed over the years;
loblolly boy, surgeons steward, pharmacist mate, hospital corpsman, IDC, yet with all the changes I am still simply known as "doc".
I have celebrated peace, yet felt the sting of war on the seas, in jungles, in foreign cities, in Washington, D.C. and on beaches of every shade of sand...white, tan, coral and black.
I have raised hell on liberty, hope in the midst of battle...and Old Glory on Iwo Jima.
I have removed appendixes on submarines and limbs in the midst of battle and many other procedures far above and beyond what I am expected to do by the normal practice of medicine because it had to be done in order to save the life of a marine or sailor in battle or under the ice, far from a doctors care.
I have ignored my own wounds to the point of death in order to stay at my station treating the wounded of my nations navy, marine corps, army and air force.
I have the highest number of medal of honors of any corps in the Navy...most of them presented to my wife, child or mother because I was already in heaven at the time.
I am proud to know in my heart that every marine who has ever fought and every sailor who has gone to sea on ships owe their lives to those thy simply, yet respectfully know as "DOC".
Mark A. Wright, HMC(SS) USN
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8404
You gave
me the title “Doc” to
Go with
my name.
That was
in ’69 and I have
Never
been the same.
The honor
was mine to stand
With My
Marines
Shedding
all those Navy Blues
For My
Brother’s Greens.
So many
before me gave all
They
could give
To treat,
protect and fight
So a
Marine could live.
We walked
together through
A man
made hell.
Who was
the Doc, who was the grunt,
Sometimes
it was hard to tell.
Now my
hair is no longer brown
Just
shades of grey
Each step
I take is with a limp
A
reminder of that day.
Medals in
a wooden case
Placed upon
my wall
Symbols
of times and places
But
still, they don’t tell all.
Each day
that has passed has
Taken its
toll
Thoughts
of my Brothers lost
So very
long ago.
You gave
me the title “Doc”
It
remains to this day
Behind
the names are brave Marines
And that
will forever stay.
July 2007
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The Real Heroes
The mortar shell lobs its way in;It lands with its usual thud.
The crack of a sniper’s rifle,
Makes you wish you were buried in mud.
The exploding shell does it damage;
The Marine in the sniper’s sights lies shot.
Suddenly, frantically, the call goes out,
"Corpsman! Corpsman! DOC!"
He knows he must enter the target area,
Where his chances of survival are thin;
But he never hesitates to answer the call,
Knowing a Marine’s life depends on him.
An FMF Corpsman is a Navy man,
Trained to help the wounded and sick;
He may be called to treat a private or colonel,
For am amputation or just a nick.
Many times he is completely unarmed,
With only medicine and bandages in his kit;
His "secret weapon" is his courage,
Which brings him to wherever a Marine is hit.
Fourteen corpsmen have received the Medal of Honor,
Seven of them, their lives they did give;
They lingered where no one else would go,
So that other Marines might live.
But for the capture of Iwo Jima,
Airman fatalities would have continued to mount;
Thus, the number of lives saved by corpsmen’s dedication,
Perhaps, are too numerous to count.
I know a corpsman, who after the heat of the Pacific,
The bitter cold Chosin Reservoir became his "beat";
He continued to attend the wounded and suffering,
Until, he too, was hospitalized with frozen hands and feet.
Hollywood has portrayed as heroes,
Pilots, submariners and commanders of tanks;
But to combat Marines, the real heroes are the corpsmen,
And it’s about time we all said thanks!
We thank you for patching us up;
Some of us might not be here today without you.
We thank you also for our buddies you tried to save;
We know, with each one who died, so did a part of you...
PFC John Murphy
3rd MarDiv, WWII