My Men are My Heroes

by Nathaniel R. Helms

  “Who joins the Marine Corps to be a computer operator?” retired Lance Corporal Alex Nicoll, who was in the Fallujah battle with Kasal, asks rhetorically. “I expected some pain. I wanted to be in the infantry. I wanted combat, and I expected to get my ass kicked. People know what they are getting into when they join the Corps, which is why they do it.

  “I was a squad leader most of the time in boot camp, and I got my ass kicked double—once for what I did and then for the things my squad did. I was always getting my ass kicked. Some of the DIs were as straight as officers, but most of them knew how to kick somebody’s ass when they couldn’t be seen. They knew the system and how to pick who could take it. It was part of being a Marine. I got plenty of kicks to the shins and a few kidney punches when nobody was looking.”

  Kasal acknowledges the DIs occasionally reinforced their commands with strenuous punishment even though the practice isn’t sanctioned. In today’s Corps physical punishment is banned and violators are prosecuted, Kasal says.

  Marines said the same thing about the physical realities of boot camp back in the ‘60s when more than one Marine graduated sporting a black eye or fat lip in his graduation photo. Pain is part of the process and it will never completely go away.

  Usually, Kasal says, any physical abuse in boot camp arrives disguised as exercise, an unrelenting regimen of body-stretching, muscle-making drills followed by running and pushups and more running. Between classroom instruction, outdoor classes, close order drill, and exercise periods, recruits occupy their time with bayonet training—learning to use their rifles as pugil sticks to batter each other. They also work on the fine art of hand-to-hand combat.

  Repetition is how Marines learn, Kasal says. “Marines learn by doing things over and over until it is automatic, until their training just kicks in. In combat that is what happens: Training kicks in and Marines do what they are trained to do. That is why discipline and following orders is so important.”

  The entire process was a carefully choreographed routine to turn them into neophyte Marines, although many green recruits never recognize a method to the madness around them. The unrelenting regimen toughens them mentally and physically. They are taught to be aggressive, to attack, to go for the jugular. They become killing machines under contract to their government. That is what Marines do and boot camp pushed Kasal and Nicoll to the top level of proficiency.

  Kasal says he had a good experience at MCRD and he was meritoriously promoted to Private First Class (PFC). “I won’t say boot camp wasn’t hard, because it was very hard. But I was already in good physical shape,” he says. “I had played football and wrestled and worked out on my own year-round. Even in the winter I would be out running on the country gravel roads in snow, jogging to stay in shape, so I was already fit when I went there. On April 12, 1985, I graduated and got 10 days’ ‘boot leave’—the leave Marines get after boot camp.”

  As Kasal expected, his two best friends kidded him unmercifully while he was home. The high school trio tried picking up where they left off, but something had changed. Kasal was a Marine now, and Marines are no longer mere civilians.

  Cornelison immediately sensed Kasal had outgrown cruising the loop in Creston. Although Kasal enjoyed seeing his friends, he was anxious to get to his destination: the School of Infantry (SOI) where Boots learn to be riflemen—“mud Marines.”

  “To me being a Marine is being a Grunt,” Kasal says. “But my recruiter told me I had to join open contract, and when I got to boot camp our senior drill instructor told us that anyone on open contract was going to be a cook. I was on mess duty for one week, but it was a week too much.”

  Mess duty is anathema to a warrior. Duties are varied but equally bad. You might be “Admiral of the Vessels” in command of the dirty pots and pans floating in the sink or a dining room orderly ensuring the milk machines are filled and the tables and chairs are precisely lined up. Or for 12 hours a day, seven days a week you might mop the floors, clean out grease traps, and carry away the garbage under the gaze of a scowling mess sergeant.

  “So I spent the next month sweating it out, waiting for the end of boot camp when they tell us what our Military Occupational Specialty (MOS) is going to be. And then they told me I was going to be a Grunt. I was a really motivated Marine then. I had really sweated having to be a cook,” says Kasal.

  SCHOOL OF INFANTRY

  West Coast Marines selected to be infantrymen go to the School of Infantry (SOI) at Camp Pendleton, California, before being deployed to permanent duty stations. The motto is “Every Marine a Rifleman,” and the trainers at SOI take their mission very seriously. Unlike other branches of service every Marine is a rifleman first—a distinction Kasal points out with pride.

  The School of Infantry’s beguiling setting belies its very serious nature. Camp Pendleton is about 40 miles north of San Diego along the rugged Pacific Coast. In winter its lush green hills turn dull brown, but with the coming of spring Pendleton turns into a riot of competing colors when the wildflowers blossom and the grass turns a lush green. At first glance it doesn’t appear to be the home of warriors.

  In peacetime it is home to the 1st Marine Division as well as to a variety of schools, logistic facilities, aviation assets, and support operations for the Marines’ worldwide mission. More than 125,000 acres and approximately 200 square miles big, it is arguably the most important Marine Corps facility in the United States. The stretch of shoreline along the base—17½ miles—is the largest undeveloped portion of coastal area in Southern California. Within its confines are training areas, administrative buildings, an air base, ship docking facilities, dependent quarters, and a variety of off-duty recreational opportunities new Marines occasionally get to look at on their morning runs.

  The skyline is marred by “Mount Motherfucker,” an especially steep mountain where Marines climb for glory on forced marches, conditioning runs, and long humps. On any given day visitors at Pendleton are treated to squads, platoons, and companies of physically fit Marines marching by loaded down like pack mules or jogging in formation to the rhythm of gravelly voiced sergeants calling cadence.

  The first stop for PFC Kasal was the Infantry Training Battalion (ITBn). The ITBn’s mission is to train and qualify Marines in the MOS of 0311 Rifleman, 0331 Machinegunner, 0341 Mortarman, 0351 Assaultman, and 0352 Anti-Tank Guided Missileman. Those five specialties are the heart and soul of a United States Marine infantry division. For 52 days young Marines are taught how to use the weapons they will ultimately shoot in the field.

  Kasal was selected to be a 0351 Assaultman firing antitank rockets. An Assaultman in 1984 was responsible for the tactical employment of the shoulder-launched multipurpose assault weapon (SMAW) and the M-47 Dragon medium assault antitank weapon, which is now obsolete. Assaultmen provide antibunker and antiarmor fire for infantry units in attack and defense. Assaultmen are assigned to weapons platoons and weapons companies.

  Marine infantrymen provide antitank capabilities using several man-portable and vehicle-mounted antitank systems including the SMAW and the mighty M-220 tube-launched, optically tracked, wire-guided missile (TOW) that can pierce any known armor or knock down a building, depending on what the Marines need it for.

  The SMAW is the smallest antitank rocket in the Assaultman’s inventory. It is a single-man-fired 16.5-pound weapon with a maximum range of about 500 meters when used against a tank. The almost 50-pound TOW is the largest. Both are deadly and Kasal would get plenty of time—both in training and in combat—with each of them.

  Dragon was replaced by Javelin, another man-portable weapon and a favorite of Marines fighting in Iraq and Afghanistan. The Javelin is a Dragon with a brain. It is a “fire-and-forget,” shoulder-fired antitank missile with a range of 2,500 meters. As soon as it is fired the gunner ducks—a big advantage when fighting an enemy tank or trying to destroy a machine-gun position. In the Javelin gunner’s case he uses a sophisticated sight to take a picture of the target, which he transfers to the gu
idance system in the missile’s warhead. After the gunner lets fly the Javelin homes in on the target using the locked-in image for guidance and recognition. The Javelin system is even tougher to hump but much more deadly. At Fallujah the Marines fired dozens of them with telling effect. Jihadists detested the Javelin and ran when they saw it being deployed.

  Kasal’s long runs back in Iowa with logs on his back paid off at the SOI. The Dragon’s 32.1-pound weight and nearly 4-foot length made it just as cumbersome as a log and just as hard to hump—especially when a gunner is carrying all his weapons and ammo, personal gear, water, and rations. The gunner is accompanied by a second team member who carries one of the weapon’s various day and night sighting devices.

  Kasal learned quickly how difficult it was to be an Assaultman. “It was very hard, very physically demanding and there was a lot of knowledge to learn,” he says. “I was already very physically fit and I didn’t have any trouble keeping up physically, but it was hard. They ran us everywhere. We ran with all our gear on, all our weapons. They taught a lot to us in a very short period of time.”

  Seven weeks later Kasal was SOI’s honor graduate and a full-fledged Marine. All he needed was a little salt and he would be seasoned to perfection.

  Getting to his first duty station wasn’t too hard. Kasal was assigned to the 2d Battalion, 1st Marine Regiment (2/1) at Camp Horno, a lodgment area within Camp Pendleton and the home of the 1st Marine Division.

  A PROUD HISTORY

  Second Battalion was activated August 1, 1922, at Santo Domingo, Dominican Republic, and deactivated two years later. The regiment first gained notoriety when it was part of a joint Navy-Marine Corps task force that seized the Mexican port of Veracruz.

  During the Great Depression the regiment’s colors stayed mothballed until the threat of war in the Pacific brought it back to life on February 1, 1941, as part of the 1st Marine Division. The 1st Marines’ first campaign was on Guadalcanal from August until December 1942. Its last battle was at Okinawa, the longest and fiercest Marine contest in the Pacific war.

  Arguably its most illustrious commander—and perhaps the most famous Marine of all—was Lewis B. “Chesty” Puller. He spent 37 years in the Corps during which he received five Navy Crosses, the nation’s second highest award for valor, behind only the Medal of Honor, before retiring at the rank of lieutenant general.

  In 1949 the 1st Marines was again briefly deactivated until shortly after the outbreak of the Korean War the next spring. On September 15, 1950, the 1st Marine Division assaulted the beaches of Inchon.

  During the Vietnam War the 1st Marine Division first fought around Chu Lai, in Viet Cong-infested southern I Corps. In January 1968 the Communists launched their all-out Tet Offensive during which the old imperial capital of Hue was overrun and occupied by the Communists. Between January 31 and March 2, 1968, the 1st Marines, along with other Marine elements, as well as South Vietnamese and U.S. Army troops, fought to regain control of the city. When the battle ended more than 1,900 enemies had died. It wouldn’t be the last time Marines would take a city; the 1st Marines just didn’t know it yet. The 1st Marines were the last Marine infantry unit to depart Vietnam.

  When Kasal reached 2/1, 1st Marine Division in June 1985 he was a PFC assigned to Weapons Co. as a Dragon gunner. He couldn’t have asked for more.

  “Ever since I had learned about the Marine Corps, I had learned about Camp Pendleton. It had a certain mystique about it, and I had always wanted to be there. That is when I checked into Weapons Co. as a young PFC and started getting the reputation—so they say—for always humping extra gear,” Kasal recalls.

  During training the Marines took 20-mile hikes with all gear. “When we went on humps, I would carry the weapon and the sight just so I could outdo someone else. It would be a bet. People would say it couldn’t be done. We would hump up Mount Motherfucker and I would race up to the top to try and beat everybody. And then when I got up there I would howl like a coyote to kind of motivate everybody else.”

  Kasal’s extra efforts were noticed, although he wasn’t working hard for a promotion. He just liked being a Marine. He liked the “esprit de corps,” the challenges, and the competition to be the best. Kasal was meritoriously promoted to Lance Corporal in August 1985, about two months after he checked into the company. He had been a Marine for eight months.

  SHIPPING OUT

  Weapons Co. trained until June 1986 when Kasal’s battalion deployed to the Western Pacific (WESTPAC) as part of the ground combat element of a Special Operations Capable (SOC) Marine Amphibious Unit (MAU). The MAU name was subsequently changed to Marine Expeditionary Unit (MEU) to emphasize the expanded capabilities of such a unit beyond amphibious landings. With a strength of approximately 2,200 personnel an MEU is normally commanded by a colonel and built around a reinforced infantry battalion, a composite aircraft squadron with both rotor- and fixed-wing AV-8B Harrier II “jump jets,” and an MEU service support group. The Marines live on ships and crisscross the Pacific, training with allied nations and showing the flag in less receptive places.

  The designation SOC is never granted until a unit successfully completes a special training regimen. This prepares the SOC to perform 18 special missions including amphibious raids, limited objective attacks, noncombatant evacuations, and a host of other operations, including Military Operations on Urban Terrain (MOUT), special demolitions operations, and “in-extremis” hostage rescues. In short, Kasal’s team was a highly trained, remarkably able, self-contained attack formation with multiple capabilities, ready to kick ass anywhere, anytime.

  For Kasal the deployment was a great training experience and a place to show his skills. His unit visited ports in Australia, Singapore, Thailand, Hong Kong, and the Philippines. He went on joint infantry training exercises with soldiers from other nations, practiced beach assaults and aerial envelopments using helicopters, and simply hiked over miles of rugged terrain carrying huge equipment loads to simulate a real combat deployment.

  “I liked deploying,” Kasal says. “I like Third World countries. People are really nice to us and welcome us. They are usually very curious and follow us around so close we can’t train. I like being there better than training in more modern countries where everything is the same.”

  PARTY TIME

  There was a lot of work, but all work and no play makes “Private Schmuckatelli” a dull Marine indeed. Marines never get too crotchety or too old to remember when they were young Marines. “Sometimes we trained and sometimes we would just pull into liberty ports and party,” Kasal recalls. “Life is simpler in Third World countries. All the time we would be out somewhere and people would just come up and bring us food. They would want to talk. At the end of the day we would just stop and hang around talking to the local people.”

  Partying in exotic ports is always interesting, Kasal says. Everything is different. From street signs to far more mysterious pleasures and pursuits, the sights, tastes, smells, and sounds are completely foreign. New American guys on liberty for the first time in Bangkok, Hong Kong, Subic Bay, or any other Asian port on the Pacific archipelago won’t quickly forget what went on. They might not tell their mothers and sisters, but it is a unique experience.

  In September 1986 Kasal won a Noncommissioned Officer (NCO) of the Quarter award and was meritoriously promoted to Corporal. It was his third meritorious promotion, putting him ahead of the curve for career Marines. More important he was now officially a Marine combat leader. All he needed was some leadership experience to make it all work.

  He quickly found out that being a corporal definitely has its rewards. They are still subtle—it isn’t time to kick back in the sergeant major’s quarters sucking down a cup of coffee while bad-mouthing the boots and making fun of the junior officers—but there are benefits nonetheless. For Kasal the shit details like standing guard, working mess duty, and lifting and toting supplies and equipment diminished, and the first sergeant took an interest in his behavior. Corporals are proba
tionary members of a closed and cloistered system bound by customs and traditions as old as the Corps itself. Entrance is limited to the chosen few so the enlisted leadership has to know if the junior Marine is going to make the cut.

  Getting promoted has other benefits as well. One is having more time in liberty ports for personal pursuits. Young Marines are on a tight leash most of the time and get edgy like overtrained thoroughbreds. For weeks at a time they are confined to eight-man and 10-man spaces that would instigate a lawsuit if they were inmates in a county jail. They are stressed, denied sleep, and roused at all hours of the day and night during training exercises. Sex and food, sex and drinking, sex and training, sex and cars, and just plain sex are the usual topics of conversation. When it comes time for a little relaxation after all this, Marines have a long, proud tradition of how to go about it.

  Depending on what port they pull into and what kind of ship they are on, Marines either go ashore over the brow—a platform from the ship to the pier—or in liberty boats, landing craft designated for transporting Marines ashore from a ship in the harbor. While the ships are in port the Marines receive mail, put aboard supplies, pull guard duty, and prepare for the next port of call. Civilians pulling into the same ports spend thousands of dollars for the opportunity. Marines pay in sweat and toil and deadly serious training.