Sniper Alley

NEWS STORY: Helmetless Boardless Dad Helping Son Fined by OPD Cop, Found Guilty

This news article only appears to be the workings of "one crazy cop" to those who do not know Officer Gary Truscott. For those of us who have ever crossed paths with him this is nothing out of the ordinary.

Camp Horno. I arrive at 1st Marine Regiment, which appeared to be a rest stop between Las Pulgas and School of Infantry, a ghost town. It was early 2000. I had just re-enlisted 'cause wasn't shit going on in Orangeburg, and I was trying to get back to someone. Okinawa was not available so I selected California. The horror stories coming out of Lejuene were enough for me to stay away from there. Too fat to fit into my Alpha's, I came to the unit in civvies and had to check in in cammies. Yes, I know, it was a sign of wonderful things 'a comin' in the future.

The Ghost at Montford Point

December 1995, Camp Lejeune, North Carolina . Upon completion of Marine Combat Training (MCT) at Camp Geiger we were bussed to our next destination. Being young and ignorant I went into the Marine Corps under an "open contract" meaning I would be placed where I they felt I should be. This turned out to be as an Automotive Organizational Mechanic at Marine Corps Combat Service Support School (MCCSSS), Camp Johnson. As the buses pulled into the cul-de-sac of the old squad bays and admin buildings, I saw the look on the face of McGill, who was our platoon guide in recruit training. He was shaking his head "no", answering the question of whether or not we would be able to take some form of leave prior to the start of MOS school. "Damn." I thought to myself. We had just spent a few weeks in the bitter cold woods of North Carolina and were really looking forward to some time with our families before our next step in training. It looks as though it would not be so, or so we thought. I guess enough bitching and complaining about having already purchased tickets home, and the fact that none of the schools were picking up any new classes due to the time of the year, the word was given that anyone who had purchased a ticket home would be allowed to go home, but had to be back on the 1st (or was it 3rd?) of January. I was OUTTA THERE!
Of course I made it back in time, changing into my Alphas in a bus station bathroom with 4 or 5 other Marines. but this story is not about my time in MOS school, it's moreso about the place itself, Camp Johnson, or as it was once called, Montford Point.
From 1942 until 1949 Montford Point served as a recruit training depot for the Marine Corps first black Marines. One the other side of the camp, a short walk (in Marine terms) from the baracks we would eventually be moved to were the old squad bays used back in those days. Most had been transformed into classrooms. The one my class used housed rows of old 5-ton (M923) cargo trucks. We were aware of how old the buildings were, and towards the end of our school I remarked at how I was disappointed in not seeing any ghosts during our time there.