Every Marine Warrior wonders if he has what it takes to do what needs to be done in combat. There are few feelings like the one I will try and express in words in this blog.
My first duty station was Bangor, Washington at the Marine Corps Force Security Guard Barracks in Bangor. While I was there I guarded nuclear weapons in many different capacities. I ran patrols, helped loading and un-loading the nuclear weapon's onto submarines and trained.
Every Marine is a rifleman and that means even those who have an MOS (Military Occupational Specialty) have to train for combat and qualify with a rifle. It is a good thing as you never know when the administrative personnel or the cooks will need to pick up a rifle.
One of my duties at Bangor was as an instructor in what we called WKT or Warrior King Training. This training prepared our Marines for the possibility of having to clear a building or house in a hostage situation. We practice needle point take down with rifles, pistols and shotguns. We practice entry through window, doors and improvised openings.
One of the benefits of the instructor position was the opportunity to continue your training. I was fortunate enough to attend one of the Marine Corps best schools called CQB (Close Quarters Battle). The school started off with a hundred plus Marines. The first week was called "Hell" week and the purpose was to get rid of the weak. We dropped quite a few that week and the second weak was rifle and pistol qualification and trust week.
They tested our trust in our equipment by blindfolding us on the top of a rappel tower, spinning us around and having us jump. You did not know if you were attached or not attached. You lost your since of direction and did not know if you were jumping off the edge or simply jumping onto the platform. Of course they would fill your head with all kinds of trash while they were spinning you. Like "Holly &$^# he was not attached". By the end of the course there were 13 of us left. Two weeks before the end of the course 10 of the 13 were called away to go to Iraq for the pre-invasion exercises. That left three of us for graduation.
When I returned to Bangor I had put in a request to be shipped into combat. I figured it was my turn to see if I had what it takes. Knowing what I know now I would never have volunteered. I left Bangor on the 23rd of December in time to be with my family in Cleveland, OK for Christmas Eve. I can remember knowing I was going to combat and trying to in some way detach myself from my family without them knowing it. I was mentally preparing myself in the only way I knew how. I could never have been ready for the first flight to combat.
I had 45 days of leave but I left the day after Christmas to go to my unit. I did not want to miss the departure date. I had not seen my family in quite some time because of being assigned in Washington state, however I could not stay around the house because there was something so important that i had to do. I had to serve this GREAT country of ours, I had to do my part. I had to simply be a Marine.
After some training in Camp Lejeune I took my wedding ring off and put it in a box and sent it to my wife in Oklahoma. I did not want some Iraqi to end up with my wedding ring and the shine of a ring can be seen for miles in the desert.
I can remember the long flight to Saudi Arabia. Everyone on the plane was quite the whole way. For some reason the things that use to bother us know longer mattered. For some reason we were automatically closer that we ever had been. I remember once we landed you could see sand in all directions. There were other aircraft on the run way and there were these funny looking buses with frilly things in the windows waiting to pick us up. I can remember looking at my feet as I stepped onto the ground for the first time. A Marine said "welcome to Hell" and it felt like it was hot enough that we could be there. My thought was this is the last country these boots will ever touch. This is where I will die for my country. This is where we give our all. I will never see my family again. I had prepared myself to fight like nothing else mattered. It was a surreal feeling.
The buses had a stench which was the body odor of the Arabs that were driving us and those that had been on the buses. When we drove off of the airport into the desert I can remember seeing a sheep Herder just like you see in the bible. He had a staff with about 20 sheep standing around. He had on the Arab wrap and when he turned around I knew he was a modern sheep Herder by the Oakley Sunglasses he wore.
When the first Gulf War kicked off the military leaders were preparing all of us for the worst. We had heard that the first line of troops would be possibly wiped out in a few days and that heavy replacements would be necessary. Training became very intense at every level and at every position in the corps. Once we landed in Saudi we spent several weeks getting acclimated to the weather and training in our MOPP GEAR(Marine Oriented Protective Posture - Our biological suits.)
The feeling I had when I got off the plane is one that I hope no American has to feel. I know it is necessary and many others will feel the same way, but it is because 0f the men today that are willing to take that step that we have the ability to be free today. I thank them every time I see them.
Monday, March 31, 2008
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Parachuting in Camp De Canjures France
In 2nd Anglico, a special unit in the Marine Corps designed to be attached to foreign allies and American special forces in order to call Marine air and ground fire support, we traveled the world and this is just one of those stories.
My first time working with the French Foreign Legion came early in my Anglico career. We were doing joint operations in Camp De Canjures France. I have lots of video and pictures which were awesome.
I found that the French were a lot different than any other organization I worked with. I worked with the Israel Navy Seals, the British Royal Marines, and close to 20 others. The most hard corps unit I ever worked with was the Israel Navy Seals. The French had two distinct division in their military. The enlisted which did all the dirt details and could never approach an officer without extreme humiliation and the officers which acted like they hung the moon. Many of the enlisted were Americans who had enlisted in the Foreign Legion to give them a head start on their mercenary careers.
Anyway, I can remember it being very cold and the Anglico team was staying in the tents with the enlisted FFL. The jumps in the gorgeous mountains were from helicopter as the jump zones were so small. Anytime you jump from a helicopter at 10000 feet AGL you can expect it to take a while for the chopper to climb to altitude. This is specifically true in a high altitude where the air is more dense.
Some of my favorite pictures were taken while I was under canopy at about 6000 feet above ground level. I took a picture of my boots and below them you could see the mountains we were jumping into. It was an awesome picture of beauty and the picture of a Marines boots which can literally take him anywhere.
One of my most memorable moments happened when SGT Harry Phillips was jumping HALO. He was very good and always prided himself on landing on a dime. This day was a little different because of the updraft of the mountains. At least that was the excuse we received. I had just landed on the ground and I heard this hollering from above. I looked and looked and finally I saw a parachute up the side of a cliff and Harry had found his dime on the side of the mountain. His parachute had caught on a tree and his feet landed safely on a 2 or 3 foot ledge. We would not help him until all the pictures were taken.
Once we got him on the ground one of the most frightening sites any paratrooper dreads to see happened right before us. We were watching some of our Marines exit a chopper and one of them looked like he jettisoned his combat pack because he had a line dropping from his Belt about 15 feet below with what looked like a Marine Pack at the end of it. We were all fine with that as it is a scene we are use to when you do a combat jump. You drop your equipment so that you don't land with a 120lb pack on your back. The 15 foot of line keeps you from landing on your pack and breaking an ancle. The only problem was we were jumping Hollywood. A Hollywood jump is when you have no combat equipment to jettison. We found out after the Marine landed on the ground that his leg had rapped around a parachute pull Cord which was attached to the chopper. When his parachute opened there was immediate tension between his parachute pulling one way and the chopper pulling the other. Usually the strongest part of a parachute is the pull cord. It has a tension strength of 7000 plus pounds if I remember correctly. That means the easiest thing to pull apart is the paratroopers body. Fortunately for him God was watching out for him that day. For some reason the pull cord broke and spared his leg.
I can't wait to share some of the other stories with you. I loved being a Marine around other Marines serving our country and learning about other cultures.
My first time working with the French Foreign Legion came early in my Anglico career. We were doing joint operations in Camp De Canjures France. I have lots of video and pictures which were awesome.
I found that the French were a lot different than any other organization I worked with. I worked with the Israel Navy Seals, the British Royal Marines, and close to 20 others. The most hard corps unit I ever worked with was the Israel Navy Seals. The French had two distinct division in their military. The enlisted which did all the dirt details and could never approach an officer without extreme humiliation and the officers which acted like they hung the moon. Many of the enlisted were Americans who had enlisted in the Foreign Legion to give them a head start on their mercenary careers.
Anyway, I can remember it being very cold and the Anglico team was staying in the tents with the enlisted FFL. The jumps in the gorgeous mountains were from helicopter as the jump zones were so small. Anytime you jump from a helicopter at 10000 feet AGL you can expect it to take a while for the chopper to climb to altitude. This is specifically true in a high altitude where the air is more dense.
Some of my favorite pictures were taken while I was under canopy at about 6000 feet above ground level. I took a picture of my boots and below them you could see the mountains we were jumping into. It was an awesome picture of beauty and the picture of a Marines boots which can literally take him anywhere.
One of my most memorable moments happened when SGT Harry Phillips was jumping HALO. He was very good and always prided himself on landing on a dime. This day was a little different because of the updraft of the mountains. At least that was the excuse we received. I had just landed on the ground and I heard this hollering from above. I looked and looked and finally I saw a parachute up the side of a cliff and Harry had found his dime on the side of the mountain. His parachute had caught on a tree and his feet landed safely on a 2 or 3 foot ledge. We would not help him until all the pictures were taken.
Once we got him on the ground one of the most frightening sites any paratrooper dreads to see happened right before us. We were watching some of our Marines exit a chopper and one of them looked like he jettisoned his combat pack because he had a line dropping from his Belt about 15 feet below with what looked like a Marine Pack at the end of it. We were all fine with that as it is a scene we are use to when you do a combat jump. You drop your equipment so that you don't land with a 120lb pack on your back. The 15 foot of line keeps you from landing on your pack and breaking an ancle. The only problem was we were jumping Hollywood. A Hollywood jump is when you have no combat equipment to jettison. We found out after the Marine landed on the ground that his leg had rapped around a parachute pull Cord which was attached to the chopper. When his parachute opened there was immediate tension between his parachute pulling one way and the chopper pulling the other. Usually the strongest part of a parachute is the pull cord. It has a tension strength of 7000 plus pounds if I remember correctly. That means the easiest thing to pull apart is the paratroopers body. Fortunately for him God was watching out for him that day. For some reason the pull cord broke and spared his leg.
I can't wait to share some of the other stories with you. I loved being a Marine around other Marines serving our country and learning about other cultures.
Saturday, March 15, 2008
Private Gregor
When thinking back on Marine Boot camp there are so many different memories. Private Gregor (Name changed to protect the innocent), is a memory that I will never forget. Private Gregor actually gave me a few memories a couple of them are listed below.
First, Private Gregor had been in boot camp for almost 7 months. Now boot camp is only 3 months long so how exactly did Private Gregor accomplish 7? Evidently he was a literal genius, not in the since that a Drill Instructor calls a dumb recruit a genius, but a serious genius. The Marine Corps was rumored to have offered him a substantial amount of bonus money to join the corps in order to have one of the nations leading computer brains as a member of the worlds best fighting force. However, Private Gregor was not a genius when it came to physical fitness or common since.
I was the 4th squad leader of Platoon 2054 in San Diego. As the 4th squad leader I had all of the tall recruits in my squad. The Marine Corps has a purpose for everything they do. The fourth squad had the tallest then 3rd squad, then 2nd and of course the shorter recruits were in the 1st squad. They do this so that in ceremony everyone can be seen from the stadium. Private Gregor was a 6'2" beanpole of a recruit. He could not march at all and his physical ability was even worse. In 7 months of boot camp he could only do 3 pull ups and somewhere around 20 sit ups. An average Marine could accomplish at least 17 pull-ups and 80 sit-ups. The goal was always 20/80 for a perfect score.
One of the funniest of moments with PVT Gregor was during our third phase obstacle course. The stairway to heaven is an obstacle that is built with telephone poles. There are two vertical poles holding a number of horizontal poles that are separated a good distance apart making it difficult to climb if you are scared of heights. The goal of the obstacle is to build confidence once it is successfully negotiated. Of course the faster the better. I remember waiting behind PVT Gregor because he was scared about climbing the obstacle and actually froze at the top while laying on the very top Horizontal pole, clutching on to it as if it were his only means of survival. One of the Drill Instructors was yelling at him to climb down and he was frozen. Finally you could see the distress of the DI and he yelled at Gregor "PVT Gregor will you do me a favor?" Gregor answered "Sir what favor sir?" the DI replied "Its a Yes or No question Gregor, now answer the freaking questions". After a long pause PVT Gregor said "Sir Yes Sir, I can do you a favor sir". The DI yelled back up a Gregor "Can you do the swan dive Private Gregor?" of course the DI did not want him to jump from so high up but he was definitely letting Gregor know he was frustrated.
Another incident happened just before Final Drill. You see all of the Platoons have a competition in 3rd phase of boot camp to see who is the best marching platoon. Drill Instructors will do about anything to make sure that only the good marching recruits are involved in the competition. As the fourth squad leader I was in charge of Gregor and the Senior Drill Instructor tole me to send him to medical and make sure he came back with a sick bay chit so that he would not have to march.
I told Gregor to go to medical and tell them he had shin splints. When I told him he said "What are shin splints?". I went on to explain that it was a pain in his shins. He said "I don't have a pain in my shins". I told him to put his foot up on my foot locker and I hit his shin with my knuckles to give him some pain. He said "What if the pain goes away?". I pulled a boot from under my rack and took a full baseball swing at his shin. Gregor jumped around limping and then amazingly enough put his other foot up on the footlocker to be hit with a boot. Private Gregor did go to medical that afternoon. He did come back with a medical chit. Private Gregor's chit said he had cellulitas on the heals of his feet. All of my explanation on shin splints was for not.
Private Gregor did graduate boot camp that year. I also learned that there is more to the Marine Corps than physically fit fighters. There is also an elite branch of Intel Marines.
First, Private Gregor had been in boot camp for almost 7 months. Now boot camp is only 3 months long so how exactly did Private Gregor accomplish 7? Evidently he was a literal genius, not in the since that a Drill Instructor calls a dumb recruit a genius, but a serious genius. The Marine Corps was rumored to have offered him a substantial amount of bonus money to join the corps in order to have one of the nations leading computer brains as a member of the worlds best fighting force. However, Private Gregor was not a genius when it came to physical fitness or common since.
I was the 4th squad leader of Platoon 2054 in San Diego. As the 4th squad leader I had all of the tall recruits in my squad. The Marine Corps has a purpose for everything they do. The fourth squad had the tallest then 3rd squad, then 2nd and of course the shorter recruits were in the 1st squad. They do this so that in ceremony everyone can be seen from the stadium. Private Gregor was a 6'2" beanpole of a recruit. He could not march at all and his physical ability was even worse. In 7 months of boot camp he could only do 3 pull ups and somewhere around 20 sit ups. An average Marine could accomplish at least 17 pull-ups and 80 sit-ups. The goal was always 20/80 for a perfect score.
One of the funniest of moments with PVT Gregor was during our third phase obstacle course. The stairway to heaven is an obstacle that is built with telephone poles. There are two vertical poles holding a number of horizontal poles that are separated a good distance apart making it difficult to climb if you are scared of heights. The goal of the obstacle is to build confidence once it is successfully negotiated. Of course the faster the better. I remember waiting behind PVT Gregor because he was scared about climbing the obstacle and actually froze at the top while laying on the very top Horizontal pole, clutching on to it as if it were his only means of survival. One of the Drill Instructors was yelling at him to climb down and he was frozen. Finally you could see the distress of the DI and he yelled at Gregor "PVT Gregor will you do me a favor?" Gregor answered "Sir what favor sir?" the DI replied "Its a Yes or No question Gregor, now answer the freaking questions". After a long pause PVT Gregor said "Sir Yes Sir, I can do you a favor sir". The DI yelled back up a Gregor "Can you do the swan dive Private Gregor?" of course the DI did not want him to jump from so high up but he was definitely letting Gregor know he was frustrated.
Another incident happened just before Final Drill. You see all of the Platoons have a competition in 3rd phase of boot camp to see who is the best marching platoon. Drill Instructors will do about anything to make sure that only the good marching recruits are involved in the competition. As the fourth squad leader I was in charge of Gregor and the Senior Drill Instructor tole me to send him to medical and make sure he came back with a sick bay chit so that he would not have to march.
I told Gregor to go to medical and tell them he had shin splints. When I told him he said "What are shin splints?". I went on to explain that it was a pain in his shins. He said "I don't have a pain in my shins". I told him to put his foot up on my foot locker and I hit his shin with my knuckles to give him some pain. He said "What if the pain goes away?". I pulled a boot from under my rack and took a full baseball swing at his shin. Gregor jumped around limping and then amazingly enough put his other foot up on the footlocker to be hit with a boot. Private Gregor did go to medical that afternoon. He did come back with a medical chit. Private Gregor's chit said he had cellulitas on the heals of his feet. All of my explanation on shin splints was for not.
Private Gregor did graduate boot camp that year. I also learned that there is more to the Marine Corps than physically fit fighters. There is also an elite branch of Intel Marines.
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
The HUNT Big Buck Oklahoma
This story is true and I can back it up with video. It started Nov. 2nd 2007 I had set up my own deer camp as I love to get away and spend time in God's country. I enjoy talking to God and clearing my head making sure my direction is clear. I had set up a 5 man tent next to a pond on the thousand acres I hunt in the center of Oklahoma. I hunted the first afternoon from a deer stand called lone tree. It is a perfect place next to a pond and in the middle of the valley where all the deer trails come together. I was hunting black powder and I had ranged my distances to know my maximum firing capabilities. Out of range crossing on the hill in front of me I saw a huge buck. His rack was tall and longer than his neck and he walked looking like a king. I got excited and I said Lord, I have to go see where that deer crossed. All I heard in my spirit was "Patience". I waited another 15 minutes and another buck a nice 8 point crossed in the exact same location. I wanted to go check it out but again I got "patience". After another 15 minutes even knowing I was suppose to sit still I thought to myself "Screw it I have to go see where those deer crossed". I was half way down my deer stand and not 20 feet behind me were two 6 point bucks and a huge doe. I could not do anything as i looked like a squirrel stuck on the side of the tree. All I heard was "I told you patience".
That night was a very cold night and the stars were so bright. It reminded me of many nights I had spent in different countries with the Marine Corps. I have always known that I have a purpose in life and I often still evaluate whether or not I am headed in the right direction to meet all that God has planned for me. When I was young I knew God was calling me to help other people, whether feeding the hungry or sharing the good news. That cold starry night I told God, "If you still want me to minister in some way let me see two falling stars". The sky so far had been totally quite. As soon as I said it in my thoughts I saw a falling star. A little while later while talking on the phone to my beautiful bride I saw a second star. I knew God still had a plan for me even though I continue to mess things up or get too busy to see the needs around me.
The next morning was very crisp and still. It was a perfect morning. This time I chose to hunt out of a deer stand called broken heart. It is a ladder stand that sits in the middle of a wooded area and the shooting lanes are nice but not far in distance. It would be easy to see a deer but for it to be on the other side of a brushy area. I sat in my stand and again challenged the Lord. "If you want me to minister to people by helping to support different ministries and by my daily actions, then give me a big deer". I could not make up a story like this, it was truly an awesome weekend. It was one of those setting where you could feel that the deer would be coming through. One of those feelings that you can not explain. You look from left to right and sit very still waiting because you know that there is a deer coming. You visualize where the deer will come into your area. I could not have planned any better what happened. I looked to my front and crossing from my 12 o'clock to my left heading to 7 o'clock was a buck with his head down. He was definitely in rut. I raised my black powder and hoped that he would walk to the inside of a set of trees because otherwise I would not have a shot. Sure enough he walked inside, I raised to a shooting lane and waited for him to cross my iron sites. I saw him run about 40 feet and then go end over end. I was excited but did never got the "Buck Fever". I think the Marines train you pretty well how to stay calm and make a good shot.
Here is the video, I shot just after I pulled the 4 wheeler over by the buck. The trees you see in the video are the area where Broken Heart is situated. When I shot this first video I had not counted the rack, I simply thought without looking that I had a 10 point deer. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YLDwPE0F7WI.
Now I will show you the official count of this monster buck. I had to shoot a local police officer giving the count. Now keep in mind that the official B&C count will be less but not by much. I have waited the 60 days for the official count but now I am waiting for them to finish the mount so I can get an official B&C count. Here is the check in count. They would not let me leave until they all called there friends in. I was still getty at this time. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1frIzXzmt5A
I do want to make a disclaimer. My wife and I use every bit of the deer I kill. We eat the meat because it is the best meat for you. I love to hunt but I am also very respectful that I make every effort to make it a hunt. I also believe in using everything you can.
Needless to say I got the big buck I asked for. Now I will seek His guidance and look for all opportunities to minister to those in need. I hope you enjoyed this weekend in the life of Dugle.
That night was a very cold night and the stars were so bright. It reminded me of many nights I had spent in different countries with the Marine Corps. I have always known that I have a purpose in life and I often still evaluate whether or not I am headed in the right direction to meet all that God has planned for me. When I was young I knew God was calling me to help other people, whether feeding the hungry or sharing the good news. That cold starry night I told God, "If you still want me to minister in some way let me see two falling stars". The sky so far had been totally quite. As soon as I said it in my thoughts I saw a falling star. A little while later while talking on the phone to my beautiful bride I saw a second star. I knew God still had a plan for me even though I continue to mess things up or get too busy to see the needs around me.
The next morning was very crisp and still. It was a perfect morning. This time I chose to hunt out of a deer stand called broken heart. It is a ladder stand that sits in the middle of a wooded area and the shooting lanes are nice but not far in distance. It would be easy to see a deer but for it to be on the other side of a brushy area. I sat in my stand and again challenged the Lord. "If you want me to minister to people by helping to support different ministries and by my daily actions, then give me a big deer". I could not make up a story like this, it was truly an awesome weekend. It was one of those setting where you could feel that the deer would be coming through. One of those feelings that you can not explain. You look from left to right and sit very still waiting because you know that there is a deer coming. You visualize where the deer will come into your area. I could not have planned any better what happened. I looked to my front and crossing from my 12 o'clock to my left heading to 7 o'clock was a buck with his head down. He was definitely in rut. I raised my black powder and hoped that he would walk to the inside of a set of trees because otherwise I would not have a shot. Sure enough he walked inside, I raised to a shooting lane and waited for him to cross my iron sites. I saw him run about 40 feet and then go end over end. I was excited but did never got the "Buck Fever". I think the Marines train you pretty well how to stay calm and make a good shot.
Here is the video, I shot just after I pulled the 4 wheeler over by the buck. The trees you see in the video are the area where Broken Heart is situated. When I shot this first video I had not counted the rack, I simply thought without looking that I had a 10 point deer. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YLDwPE0F7WI.
Now I will show you the official count of this monster buck. I had to shoot a local police officer giving the count. Now keep in mind that the official B&C count will be less but not by much. I have waited the 60 days for the official count but now I am waiting for them to finish the mount so I can get an official B&C count. Here is the check in count. They would not let me leave until they all called there friends in. I was still getty at this time. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1frIzXzmt5A
I do want to make a disclaimer. My wife and I use every bit of the deer I kill. We eat the meat because it is the best meat for you. I love to hunt but I am also very respectful that I make every effort to make it a hunt. I also believe in using everything you can.
Needless to say I got the big buck I asked for. Now I will seek His guidance and look for all opportunities to minister to those in need. I hope you enjoyed this weekend in the life of Dugle.
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
First Days of Marine Corps Bootcamp
I can remember sitting on the bus on my way to the Marine Enlisted Processing Station thinking what in the world have I done. I had enlisted in the finest fighting force in the country and now it was time to earn the title. Believe it or not I watched a newly released movie the night before shipping out in my hotel, you may have seen it, "Full Metal Jacket". I am glad I had signed up before I saw the movie. Actually at that time in my life It would not have mattered, all I wanted to do was become a Marine.
When I walked into the recruiters office I told them to tell me the truth, I was joining no matter what they said but I wanted the truth all the way through. They gave it to me straight and actually tried to talk me into going into some type of computer programming because my scores came out good in that area. I was not interested, I could not see calling myself a Marine and not fighting as most people think all Marines do. I requested combat arms and was selected for the infantry. I love being a warrior.
When I first arrived at San Diego International I lead a group of 10 Poolees to the SGT's desk at the airport. I nonchalantly leaned against the counter and handed the Marine the packet. The SGT yelled at the top of his lungs, GET OFF MY DESK. Wow, I was in a different world now. I did not know it was HIS DESK but I soon found out that Marines take ownership of everything around them. Not only to they take ownership but also responsibility for it. Everything around me now is mine and my responsibility to insure it is clean and operating to perfection.
When we arrived at San Diego Recruit Processing Center they yelled us off the bus, just like you see in the movies only these guys meant what they were saying. No one was safe, if you cut your hair before you went you were trying to imitate a Marine. If you did not cut your hair then you were a disgrace to the Marines. Either way they were going to find something wrong with you as they should have. We simply were civilian trash with no discipline and we had life too easy where we came from. The title Marine is not handed to anyone. It is earned by anyone who claims the title. I think God put that in His eleventh commandment.
During the next 48 hours they took everything we brought with us and put it into boxes to be stored for the next 90 days. Our clothes, watches, any books or tobacco products. They were all taken, the only thing we could keep was our wallet.
They then ran us through a series of paperwork where we had to sign and fill out tons of sheets that would be used to start tracking everything from our medical issues to details of our family life. Everything was done on a calculated schedule. They knew exactly how many seconds it would take for everyone to figure out what was in front of them and they knew when to move on. I could not look at them but I knew I was in the presents of some hard corps, sharp dressed demons.
Once the paperwork was filled out they moved us to supply where we finally got our issue of clothing which we paid for in the next several months. The Marine Corps did not give you anything, not even your clothing supply. They issued everything from briefs to the cover (Hat) that goes on your grape (head). The sea bag is what you stuffed everything in. They also issued you a lock and that will become more important later in this story.
Once they issued us our clothing they ran, gaggled and got us to chow and by this time it was the next morning. After chow (breakfast - a period of time you smell, swallow and digest food usually about 2 minutes) they took us to the barbershop and off with the dew. By this time you had actually become familiar with others in your group and because of the new environment you began to bond together. It is funny how that works. Those who bleed together bond together. However, once we lost our dew, I could not recognize anyone. Everyone looked like a dork. Everyone was white headed. Most of us looked like a shaved Q-Tip. I can remember seeing myself in the mirror the next morning thinking "Oh my God, I don't look like a Marine, I look like a Geek on weight loss medication. I did not realize what the Corps could do in such a short period of time.
I can remember marking all of our clothing with our names on them before we got to even think about sleeping. Some how we had enough to do in the first 48 hours that we did not sleep. They taught us the basics of marching, the basics of listening to your instructors. There was never a hint of motherly care or a smile for the next 90 days. The first smile I saw from any Drill Instructor was on Graduation Day. Once we finally got in the rack (Bed - a place where Marines sleep with one eye open and a weapon in their hand). After 48 hours of no sleep I was so ready to lay down. They had us lock up our sea-bags to our rack. I remember waking up early before lights that first morning. I was comforted thinking mom and dad were in the other room. However, there was this sound that was unfamiliar to me. It was the clicking sound on a cement floor. All of the sudden I was terrified as I realized I was about to be awakened. The sound I heard was the sharp sound of heals walking across the squad bay (Sleeping quarters). I kept trying to think of what all I had to do as soon as they turned on the lights. Then all of the sudden the Lights came on and total hell broke loose. GET OUT OF THE RACK you sorry no good pieces of disgusting maggots. Oh, no I could not remember my combination and my shaving kit, my clothing and all of junk was inside that sea-bag. Finally I remembered it and thank God I was not the last one staring at the bag with shaking hands trying to figure out what woke me up.
I will share more stories in other entries. What a time I had for the next 90 days. My journey from nasty civilian to Marine.
When I walked into the recruiters office I told them to tell me the truth, I was joining no matter what they said but I wanted the truth all the way through. They gave it to me straight and actually tried to talk me into going into some type of computer programming because my scores came out good in that area. I was not interested, I could not see calling myself a Marine and not fighting as most people think all Marines do. I requested combat arms and was selected for the infantry. I love being a warrior.
When I first arrived at San Diego International I lead a group of 10 Poolees to the SGT's desk at the airport. I nonchalantly leaned against the counter and handed the Marine the packet. The SGT yelled at the top of his lungs, GET OFF MY DESK. Wow, I was in a different world now. I did not know it was HIS DESK but I soon found out that Marines take ownership of everything around them. Not only to they take ownership but also responsibility for it. Everything around me now is mine and my responsibility to insure it is clean and operating to perfection.
When we arrived at San Diego Recruit Processing Center they yelled us off the bus, just like you see in the movies only these guys meant what they were saying. No one was safe, if you cut your hair before you went you were trying to imitate a Marine. If you did not cut your hair then you were a disgrace to the Marines. Either way they were going to find something wrong with you as they should have. We simply were civilian trash with no discipline and we had life too easy where we came from. The title Marine is not handed to anyone. It is earned by anyone who claims the title. I think God put that in His eleventh commandment.
During the next 48 hours they took everything we brought with us and put it into boxes to be stored for the next 90 days. Our clothes, watches, any books or tobacco products. They were all taken, the only thing we could keep was our wallet.
They then ran us through a series of paperwork where we had to sign and fill out tons of sheets that would be used to start tracking everything from our medical issues to details of our family life. Everything was done on a calculated schedule. They knew exactly how many seconds it would take for everyone to figure out what was in front of them and they knew when to move on. I could not look at them but I knew I was in the presents of some hard corps, sharp dressed demons.
Once the paperwork was filled out they moved us to supply where we finally got our issue of clothing which we paid for in the next several months. The Marine Corps did not give you anything, not even your clothing supply. They issued everything from briefs to the cover (Hat) that goes on your grape (head). The sea bag is what you stuffed everything in. They also issued you a lock and that will become more important later in this story.
Once they issued us our clothing they ran, gaggled and got us to chow and by this time it was the next morning. After chow (breakfast - a period of time you smell, swallow and digest food usually about 2 minutes) they took us to the barbershop and off with the dew. By this time you had actually become familiar with others in your group and because of the new environment you began to bond together. It is funny how that works. Those who bleed together bond together. However, once we lost our dew, I could not recognize anyone. Everyone looked like a dork. Everyone was white headed. Most of us looked like a shaved Q-Tip. I can remember seeing myself in the mirror the next morning thinking "Oh my God, I don't look like a Marine, I look like a Geek on weight loss medication. I did not realize what the Corps could do in such a short period of time.
I can remember marking all of our clothing with our names on them before we got to even think about sleeping. Some how we had enough to do in the first 48 hours that we did not sleep. They taught us the basics of marching, the basics of listening to your instructors. There was never a hint of motherly care or a smile for the next 90 days. The first smile I saw from any Drill Instructor was on Graduation Day. Once we finally got in the rack (Bed - a place where Marines sleep with one eye open and a weapon in their hand). After 48 hours of no sleep I was so ready to lay down. They had us lock up our sea-bags to our rack. I remember waking up early before lights that first morning. I was comforted thinking mom and dad were in the other room. However, there was this sound that was unfamiliar to me. It was the clicking sound on a cement floor. All of the sudden I was terrified as I realized I was about to be awakened. The sound I heard was the sharp sound of heals walking across the squad bay (Sleeping quarters). I kept trying to think of what all I had to do as soon as they turned on the lights. Then all of the sudden the Lights came on and total hell broke loose. GET OUT OF THE RACK you sorry no good pieces of disgusting maggots. Oh, no I could not remember my combination and my shaving kit, my clothing and all of junk was inside that sea-bag. Finally I remembered it and thank God I was not the last one staring at the bag with shaking hands trying to figure out what woke me up.
I will share more stories in other entries. What a time I had for the next 90 days. My journey from nasty civilian to Marine.
Friday, March 7, 2008
Bounty Hunter
My wife Mrs. Dugle and I have always been kind hearted and we love to help people out. Sometimes helping others can sting you but we have never let that stop us before. Earlier this year we bought a house that we had to completely remodel. We hired some additional help for some of the tougher jobs that my wife could not handle... OK I could not handle. I hired a guy by the name of Damo who is a charmer and he is an excellent carpenter. We did not know at the time that Damo had a prior history of 11 years of Jail time.
One afternoon we found out that Damo was thrown into jail again for some tickets he had not paid and for a charge of Battery by Strangulation. Damo explained to us that he was innocent and he had a believable story about the whole incident. Needless to say we bailed him out of Jail and it cost us $3,000. I must say that it was not my idea but my bride has a soft heart.
In November he failed to appear which meant that if we did not find him we were now liable for $20,000 to the bail bond. WOW! That was enough to get my blood pumpin some good ole Marine Corps Mission Top Secret blood. I kicked it into high gear to try and find him.
The only thing I knew to do was to pose as a female on one of those sites MyBook or FaceSpace something like that. Anyway, I posed as this girl and I even borrowed a picture and began to talk to this fugitive online even though he was in hiding. I was able to get him to give me his location thinking I was coming over for a night Cap. I even went as far as to buy a pay per use cell phone and had a friend put a female voice mail on it. After a few months we scheduled a meeting. I called the Bailbondsmen and told them the plan, They sent their bounty hunter to pick him up but evidently he under estimated the Damo. Damo hit him in the face and took off running like a mad dog. That is pretty fast if you know what I mean.
So when he got away from the Bounty I kicked in the Marine Corps Mission Top Secret blood again. I started asking questions and interviewing everyone that may have seen Damo entering the apartment we found him in. After some pretty savy James Bond stuff it all came down to this: I knew he was driving a White 4 door Camry with two child seats in the back, the only other information I found was the name of the girl he was staying with was either Melissa or Michelle. I literally searched until 2 in the morning and finally after looking at every white two door Camry in town I found one with two baby seats in it and a license plate on the front of the vehicle with the name Michelle. I was so excited, I called the police who met me at the vehicle and ran the tags. They found that the vehicle was registered to Michelle and she lived in an apartment 2 blocks away. The police had 11 cars show up and we surrounded the apartment. When they knocked on the door I noticed someone in the upstairs bedroom get out of bed and walk by the window. I knew they were home but they did not answer. Since they did not answer the police could not break down the door because the warrant was for a different address and since I did not see Damo enter the place they could not legally go in. So I called the BailBonds and Bounty and ask them if they wanted to meet me at 3 in the morning and I would show them where Damo was staying. They met me and after a long 30 minutes of knocking they finally kicked in the door. I stayed outside watching the upstairs windows to make sure he did not jump. I never really heard a struggle and that concerned me. If we kicked in the doors and the Fugitive is not there then we could have been arrested for breaking and entry. I finally heard the struggle, they found Damo in the attic and they went after him. The sad thing about all of it was there were two little kids in the apartment with Damo and Michelle. The bounty broke through the ceiling and tried to bring Damo with him. He did mace Damo's eyes shut but the mace was so strong the Bounty had to come out of the attack because he was choking. By this time I had called the police and the 11 cars were there again. When I found out the bounty no longer had eyes on the Damo, I became concerned. You see the Damo says he will die before he goes back to prison. When they looked in the attic they found a whole kicked in the side where there was a vent and there was no sign of the Damo. He escaped. He broke through the side and got on the roof of the next door apartment and then jumped off of the 20' roof and ran away with a broken ankle. It took me months to find him and twice in a day he escaped. I was so mad, but what can you do. Now my FaceSpace girl's cover was blown and I had no idea where he would go. On a side note, there are some sick guys that post comments on the facespace stuff. I got some real rude stuff and every guy thought they had the perfect line. Unreal!
Back to the drawing board. Tonight I got him and here is how. I have communicated with everyone on his websites and e-mail contacts. Several of them knew bits and pieces but no one knew where he stayed. I actually captured some communication where one of his x-Girl Friends told a friend she was going to meet him somewhere on 21st street. I knew if she met him they were possibly driving away together for good. Once I knew the exact location, by capturing phone conversations through Marine Corps Recon technology and a few cashed in favors, I set up my Observation post.
Damo was suppose to meet this Girl at a TripQuick, I changed the name to protect the innocent, at 6PM tonight. I got to the AO (Area of Operation) about 2 hours early. I found a U-Haul store across the street from the TripQuick and asked them if they had a window that faced the TQ and they just so happened to have a small window in the attic. I sat in that stuffy attic and called the bounty and police letting them know to keep all police cars out of the area until I called them. The bounty sat outside the U-Haul store with better eyes on the South side of the TQ and my view gave me a better field of view to the North of the TQ. Then I saw him, he limped across the highway into the TQ parking lot. He paced back and forth in front of th TQ watching to see if anyone was watching for him. He was waiting for his XGirl to come pick him up. I hopped out of the attic and got into my Mercedes which is a real stealthy vehicle by the way. We drove around and called the police, they said they were just three blocks away. By the time we got into the parking lot they literally had 12 cars on location and the m Damo that said he would never go back to jail simply raised his hands and gave up. I looked and his picture and information is already listed on the Tulsa County Jail website. Thank God everyone came out of this safe and I want to thank the Tulsa Police Department for an outstanding job. Also the Bailbonds did a wonderful job. I will update you on my next adventure soon.
One afternoon we found out that Damo was thrown into jail again for some tickets he had not paid and for a charge of Battery by Strangulation. Damo explained to us that he was innocent and he had a believable story about the whole incident. Needless to say we bailed him out of Jail and it cost us $3,000. I must say that it was not my idea but my bride has a soft heart.
In November he failed to appear which meant that if we did not find him we were now liable for $20,000 to the bail bond. WOW! That was enough to get my blood pumpin some good ole Marine Corps Mission Top Secret blood. I kicked it into high gear to try and find him.
The only thing I knew to do was to pose as a female on one of those sites MyBook or FaceSpace something like that. Anyway, I posed as this girl and I even borrowed a picture and began to talk to this fugitive online even though he was in hiding. I was able to get him to give me his location thinking I was coming over for a night Cap. I even went as far as to buy a pay per use cell phone and had a friend put a female voice mail on it. After a few months we scheduled a meeting. I called the Bailbondsmen and told them the plan, They sent their bounty hunter to pick him up but evidently he under estimated the Damo. Damo hit him in the face and took off running like a mad dog. That is pretty fast if you know what I mean.
So when he got away from the Bounty I kicked in the Marine Corps Mission Top Secret blood again. I started asking questions and interviewing everyone that may have seen Damo entering the apartment we found him in. After some pretty savy James Bond stuff it all came down to this: I knew he was driving a White 4 door Camry with two child seats in the back, the only other information I found was the name of the girl he was staying with was either Melissa or Michelle. I literally searched until 2 in the morning and finally after looking at every white two door Camry in town I found one with two baby seats in it and a license plate on the front of the vehicle with the name Michelle. I was so excited, I called the police who met me at the vehicle and ran the tags. They found that the vehicle was registered to Michelle and she lived in an apartment 2 blocks away. The police had 11 cars show up and we surrounded the apartment. When they knocked on the door I noticed someone in the upstairs bedroom get out of bed and walk by the window. I knew they were home but they did not answer. Since they did not answer the police could not break down the door because the warrant was for a different address and since I did not see Damo enter the place they could not legally go in. So I called the BailBonds and Bounty and ask them if they wanted to meet me at 3 in the morning and I would show them where Damo was staying. They met me and after a long 30 minutes of knocking they finally kicked in the door. I stayed outside watching the upstairs windows to make sure he did not jump. I never really heard a struggle and that concerned me. If we kicked in the doors and the Fugitive is not there then we could have been arrested for breaking and entry. I finally heard the struggle, they found Damo in the attic and they went after him. The sad thing about all of it was there were two little kids in the apartment with Damo and Michelle. The bounty broke through the ceiling and tried to bring Damo with him. He did mace Damo's eyes shut but the mace was so strong the Bounty had to come out of the attack because he was choking. By this time I had called the police and the 11 cars were there again. When I found out the bounty no longer had eyes on the Damo, I became concerned. You see the Damo says he will die before he goes back to prison. When they looked in the attic they found a whole kicked in the side where there was a vent and there was no sign of the Damo. He escaped. He broke through the side and got on the roof of the next door apartment and then jumped off of the 20' roof and ran away with a broken ankle. It took me months to find him and twice in a day he escaped. I was so mad, but what can you do. Now my FaceSpace girl's cover was blown and I had no idea where he would go. On a side note, there are some sick guys that post comments on the facespace stuff. I got some real rude stuff and every guy thought they had the perfect line. Unreal!
Back to the drawing board. Tonight I got him and here is how. I have communicated with everyone on his websites and e-mail contacts. Several of them knew bits and pieces but no one knew where he stayed. I actually captured some communication where one of his x-Girl Friends told a friend she was going to meet him somewhere on 21st street. I knew if she met him they were possibly driving away together for good. Once I knew the exact location, by capturing phone conversations through Marine Corps Recon technology and a few cashed in favors, I set up my Observation post.
Damo was suppose to meet this Girl at a TripQuick, I changed the name to protect the innocent, at 6PM tonight. I got to the AO (Area of Operation) about 2 hours early. I found a U-Haul store across the street from the TripQuick and asked them if they had a window that faced the TQ and they just so happened to have a small window in the attic. I sat in that stuffy attic and called the bounty and police letting them know to keep all police cars out of the area until I called them. The bounty sat outside the U-Haul store with better eyes on the South side of the TQ and my view gave me a better field of view to the North of the TQ. Then I saw him, he limped across the highway into the TQ parking lot. He paced back and forth in front of th TQ watching to see if anyone was watching for him. He was waiting for his XGirl to come pick him up. I hopped out of the attic and got into my Mercedes which is a real stealthy vehicle by the way. We drove around and called the police, they said they were just three blocks away. By the time we got into the parking lot they literally had 12 cars on location and the m Damo that said he would never go back to jail simply raised his hands and gave up. I looked and his picture and information is already listed on the Tulsa County Jail website. Thank God everyone came out of this safe and I want to thank the Tulsa Police Department for an outstanding job. Also the Bailbonds did a wonderful job. I will update you on my next adventure soon.
First Blog
I guess I could write forever about the many lives of Dugle. Yes, that is me, I am Dugle. I am 40 years old and I have literally traveled around the world several times as a Marine. I will get into more details about the many stories of the corps later on. Tonight I simply want to give you a rounded look at me. After leaving the Marine Corps I had a hard time settling down, I divorced twice and moved several times. I found out later that I was diagnosed with PTSD or Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. I really don't have a bad case of it but, I don't have night mares anymore and I am finally feeling like I am settling down in life. I am now Married to a wonderful lady Mrs. Dugle and I have a 13 year old daughter KDugle and two step children DStan and AubStan. I have my own business and at 40 I am still not sure what tomorrow brings. I have always gotten bored easy if not challenged or dealing with multiple projects. Anyway enough boring stuff, Let me close this one out and start with the Bounty Dugle.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
