The few. The proud. The Marines.
There's no prouder Marine than Sgt. Maj. Joseph R. Means. The celebrated Marine mystique - he epitomizes all of it.
At 69, he remains the quintessential Semper Fi Marine. He still wears his dog tags, and usually a USMC shirt.
His apartment on Bridge Road brims with Marine memorabilia - Marine insignia plaques, framed military pictures and citations, Marine figurines, Vietnam veteran caps, a Marine Corps blanket. And a mannequin in the corner showcases his formal uniform, bedecked in ribbons and medals galore. Hardware includes a Meritorious Service Medal.
He served 27 years, including two years in Vietnam where he participated in 13 major operations. He loved it. He's a gung-ho guy.
Reared in Boone and Lincoln counties and bedazzled by a spiffy Marine recruiter visiting his high school, he enlisted shortly after graduation and rose to the highest rank possible for enlisted Marines.
He retired (kicking and screaming no doubt) in 1992. Every day, he yearns with all his soul to be back in uniform.
Ooh-rah!
nnn
"I grew up in Boone and Lincoln counties. I went to grade school at White Oak, right next to Ashford in Boone County. It was a one-room schoolhouse set way up the hollow. Mrs. Giles was the teacher. She had a big long stick and she would rap us every once in a while. We had grades one through eight in the same room. She was the only teacher, a tough lady.
"Ashford was a big coal mining town, bustling. My dad worked in the mines. He was also in the Marine Corps. He was in World War II and got out as a corporal. He fought in the Martial Islands, Guadalcanal, Saipan. He never talked about it much.
"I got drafted right after high school. I graduated in '64. Mom said, 'No, you aren't going in the Army.' I said, 'No, I'm not. I'm going to join the Marine Corps before my draft notice is effective.'
"In high school, Vietnam had kicked up. A Marine recruiter had come to the school when I was a freshman. I never will forget him to this day. He looked so sharp, a big, clean-cut guy. I thought, 'That's where I'm going.'
"I went to Parris Island to boot camp. The day I got off the bus and stood on the yellow footprints at Parris Island, I knew it was my destiny to be a Marine.
"You don't get off the bus until the senior drill instructor comes on and hollers and carries on and calls you every name in the book. 'You aren't worth ----! You belong to me!' I said, 'Yes, sir! Let's go!' I knew that's where I belonged.
"I had a wonderful time in boot camp. They put me through the flint mill. Back then, if you didn't do something, they would just haul off and hit you.
"After Parris Island, it was on to Camp Lejeune, then down to Guantanamo Bay and Cuba for maybe eight months. It was a desolate place and had one of the largest minefields in the world. You got to be careful where you are going.
"I volunteered for Vietnam. When they said I had the orders, I said, 'Yes! Yes!' I felt it was what I was meant to do. A lot of Marines had died over there, and I felt I needed to be there.
"You learn to adapt real quick to the culture. Only the Marine next to you could be trusted. They had what they called Kit Carson scouts in the Vietnam army. They would go out with Marines sometimes as interpreters. There was always a Marine in front of him and a Marine behind him. We did not trust them.
"I was a section chief in artillery and a fire support coordinator, adjusting artillery fires for the companies that go out in the field for the operation. I was with the 3rd 8 Inch Howitzers, the biggest artillery piece there is. You were in harm's way every single day. I just loved it.
"The Tet of '68 was when the Vietnamese had the big offensive going, but that didn't pan out well for them. I was in a place called An Hoa, a fire support base. We had one battalion of Marines down there, and they were gone most of the time in the field.
"You have to get over being scared. When you first get there, it's a little shaky, but as the days go on, the bullets don't bother you. You can get shot and who cares.
"On May 9, Mother's Day 1969, I got shot in the shoulder and the back. Shrapnel from an RPG, a rocket propelled grenade. They sent me to Guam, to a Navy hospital, for three months.
"When they came with my orders to go home, I said, 'No, I'm going back.' I missed being with my people. You get so close to them. The brotherhood was always there.
"Marines were always by themselves, but we did have corpsman from the Navy. Great guys. We looked after them like they were gold.
"It gets me upset when people talk so much about drugs in Vietnam. I was there for 24 months on 13 major operations. I never once had anything that went in my mouth or my arm. In my brotherhood, it never happened. I don't know where that all came from. Maybe in a sister service, but not in the Marines where I was. Not around me.
"I was on Hill 65 and the helicopter came and the sergeant major jumped off and ran over and grabbed me and said to get on the chopper. He said I was going home because I'd been there too long. I left everything behind. I never saw my stuff again. I missed my buddies. I didn't even get to say goodbye.
"They took me to Da Nang for processing, and I got on the Freedom Bird and flew into Atlanta, Georgia. I wasn't ready to leave, but by the time you are heading across the ocean, you start to wind down, and you're thinking maybe this is the right thing to do.
"I went home to Lincoln County on a 10-day leave. When I got off the bus here in Charleston, they had the pickets. You wouldn't think stuff like that would go on here in West Virginia with all the patriotism there is, but it was here. They called you 'baby killer' and this and that. You got spit on. It took a while to get over my fellow West Virginians treating me like that.
"I went around the corner to a bar called the Brass Rail. I needed a beer. They told me I'd better get outside or there would be trouble. Marines always wore their uniforms. Back then, they told you not to wear your uniform when you got home because of all the riots and protests. But the Marine Corps said, 'You will wear your uniform and you will wear it with pride.' And that's what we did.
"I was a sergeant, so I was moving up. I went to Camp Lejeune, then to Newport, Rhode Island. I was security chief for the Naval War College.
"The Navy had a plebe program, those guys who go to a school before they go to the Naval Academy. I was a drill instructor for those guys. I had to act the role.
"After Newport, I went back to Okinawa. That's when the USS Mayaguez was captured by Cambodians. They went to Koh Tang Island.
"The Marines went down and took it back. It was a combat deployment. We landed on the beach by helicopter. We lost a couple of copters, shot right out of the sky. The Cambodians had small arms, mortars, RPGs, the whole nine yards. But we were the Marines, and we got the ship back.
"Back home, I went to California for maybe a year. Marines always train. I was training other people. Then I got orders to go to Marine Corps headquarters in Arlington, Virginia, to be a monitor for the artillery side. You send these guys to all these duty stations and schools. I was up to gunnery sergeant then, and I was probably in charge of 5,000 Marines.
"I spent one tour there, then got ordered to Quantico in the leadership department, writing leadership manuals and going to staff CEO academies and teaching OCS staff noncommissioned officers academies.
"I got promoted to first sergeant. Then I got orders to go back to Okinawa and stayed 13 months. Next, I got orders back to headquarters to be the first sergeant for Bravo Company of Henderson Hall.
"That's where I met up with Sgt. Maj. Leland D. Crawford, sergeant major of the entire Marine Corps. He's from Cabin Creek. He was a super guy and taught me so much.
"When I was at Henderson Hall, they selected me to be the senior enlisted representative, the grand marshal of the welcome home for Vietnam veterans in Washington, D.C. That was a big honor.
"I went back to Quantico as first sergeant for one of the companies for about a year, then went back to Marine Corps headquarters as sergeant major for the enlisted assignment branch. I didn't take care of just the artillery but all the jobs in the Marine Corps, from cooks to aviation mechanics.
"I assigned all the sergeants and sergeant majors to their duties. I wasn't always a popular guy.
"Sergeant major is the highest ranking, the senior enlisted man in the Marine Corps. At that time, there were only 460 in the entire Marine Corps.
"I retired in '92 after 22 years of active service. As I was retiring, Gen. C.E. Mundy Jr. presented me with the Meritorious Service Medal and wrote a citation. There was a big ceremony. I got a couple of letters, one from the commandant of the Marine Corps.
"I miss it every single day. I was eligible for recall until I was 60. I thought sure they would call me back. They didn't. I would do it all over again. I'm ready."
Reach Sandy Wells at sandyw@wvgazette.com or 304-342-5027.