THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1994, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Wednesday, July 27, 1994 TAG: 9407270398
SECTION: FRONT PAGE: A1 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: BY JACK DORSEY, STAFF WRITER
LENGTH: Long : 154 lines
Send me in, or send me home.
That's the battle cry of the nearly 4,000 Marines and sailors entering their fourth week of duty patrolling off the Haitian coast.
They're bored. They're upset they had to leave their families on such short notice. They're frustrated. They want to do something out here.
``You dialed 911 and we responded,'' said Marine Lt. Col. Robert Summler. ``Hell, yes, we want to do something.''
Most of the men riding aboard the four Norfolk-based amphibious-assault ships are back at sea with only the distant memories of a 12-day port visit separating them from a six-month deployment to the Mediterranean Sea.
As Haitians fled their island nation at a rate of 3,000 a day, the Inchon Amphibious Ready Group was sent to the waters off Haiti on July 6. The troops are ready to evacuate the 3,500 Americans still on the island or spearhead an invasion to drive out the regime that ousted Haiti's elected president.
But the flood of boat people has dropped to a trickle and news reports from Washington quote sources saying no invasion is likelybefore mid- to late August.
``It is getting a little bit harder, now that we have been down here three weeks that we haven't `done anything,' '' said Cmdr. Robert G. Brewer, commanding officer of the dock-landing ship Portland. ``It's a little bit hard to convince the guys that just being down here may be one of the reasons why we haven't had to do anything.''
The 1,900 sailors manning the ships and the 2,000 Marines they're carrying were called away from plans they had for the six months they're now spending in the Caribbean.
A young Marine captain aboard the amphibious-transport dock Trenton was summoned from his wife's delivery room. Their baby was born the next day - while the Marine was climbing aboard his ship. He has yet to see his child, but he's got pictures.
Navy Petty Officer 1st Class Neil McCloud of Norfolk, an operations specialist aboard the Portland, had planned a trip with his wife to a Caribbean resort in Aruba. McCloud is fairly close to there now. ``This is my Haitian vacation,'' he quipped.
One man who had planned a $3,000 vacation with his wife sent her with her sister instead. For those who had to cancel nonrefundable vacation packages, the Navy and Marines are making some calls.
But in nearly every case, members of the group did return to duty.
One exception was a sailor the Navy couldn't reach: He was camping with his family at the bottom of the Grand Canyon; it would have taken a rider on horseback a day to reach them and another to come back up.
Most of these sailors and Marines would accept action as payment for their loss. But there is none.
The ships steam around the Caribbean in giant box-shaped patterns. Some call them ``gator circles,'' borrowing from the nickname for amphibious forces.
They are crammed with amphibious-assault vehicles, ambulances, howitzers, trucks, back hoes, machine guns, M-16 rifles, mortars, rockets and tents. There's a specially trained SEAL team aboard, too.
``We're awake at 6 a.m., go to chow, do about an hour's worth of exercises, clean our weapons, go to classes and end the day about 4:30,'' said a young Marine after a workout Sunday on the deck of the Portland.
For the sailors, there are the everyday chores of running a ship, and that makes time go a bit faster, said Petty Officer 2nd Class Steven Sides of Virginia Beach, a fire controlman aboard the Portland.
But that gets old fast, added his buddy, Petty Officer 2nd Class Robert Gallion of Chesapeake.
Their wives, who have become good friends back home, have been understanding about the sudden cruise, they say.
``But that doesn't mean they like it,'' Gallion said.
``My wife cried,'' said Tom Cook, 36, of Norfolk, a disbursing clerk aboard the tank-landing ship Spartanburg County. She's never done that before, he said.
Ethan Holden, a storekeeper aboard the Spartanburg County who lives in Virginia Beach, worries that he will have to cut his Navy career short because of the disruption.
His first child was born just as he left for the last deployment. He was only home 10 days this time, meaning he's seen his baby about two weeks out of the past seven months.
``My wife and I have never had any problems. She's real strong. But this last time, this has really changed my plans. When I get home we'll have to talk. This might change everything.''
Never before has an amphibious ready group coming off a deployment been recalled, said Col. Robert Berndt, who commands the 24th Marine Expeditionary Unit aboard the Inchon group.
``There was a good deal of urgency when we left,'' he said. ``But it's been a couple of weeks now.''
The call-up has disrupted the Navy's policy of promising sailors and Marines 12 months at home for every six-month deployment.
Marine Sgt. Christopher Fitts, 30, of Boston, a 12-year veteran, listened to his fellow Marines complain aboard the amphibious-transport dock Trenton and left the mess table in disgust.
``If they don't want to be here then get the hell out of the Marine Corps,'' Fitts said. ``Everybody understands when they sign up what this job is all about. They got to give 110 percent or nothing at all.
``I wasn't happy, but I went.''
For the Marines, cruising in gator circles somewhere between Cuba and Haiti, usually out of sight of land and always out of sight of Haiti, the days are too long.
The Marines have settled into a routine of classes, physical exercises, weapons training and cleaning. They study detailed maps of Haiti's capital, evacuation routes, vital communications centers and terrain.
There are classes in Creole, Haiti's French-influenced language, and classes in tactics, special operations and first aid.
Cmdr. Brewer of the Portland said the 650 men aboard his ship, including 250 Marines, have gone through the normal grumbling.
``But I think the guys understand they wouldn't have gotten us underway 12 days after deployment if we weren't the only ones available to do the job at the time.''
Capt. Tom Lennon, commanding officer of the Trenton, said he wouldn't ask his men to stop their complaining. Though Lennon remembers nine- and 11-month cruises during the '70s, he realizes sailors today have come to expect that 12 months away follows six months at sea.
``Most of today's sailors came in under that program and we owe it to them to try to make it work,'' Lennon said.
A tentative date for the Inchon group's return home, Aug. 19-20, has boosted their morale. It gives them reason for making new plans to replace the ones that were dashed.
Military officials say they believe the amphibious-assault ship Wasp, which returned to Norfolk a week ago from duty here, will be able to come back to the Caribbean and assume the Inchon's duties.
Meantime, so the Marines can ``stretch their feet,'' the Inchon amphibious group will sail as early as next week for the island of Vieques off Puerto Rico, one commanding officer said. There they will conduct a full rehearsal of what officials call a ``noncombat evacuation operation.''
So far, the Marine units that would carry out an evacuation have had to operate separately because of environmental restrictions in the region. For example, in the Bahamas, the Little Creek-based air-cushioned landing craft, or LCACs, were prohibited from coming ashore on one island because it's a refuge for flamingos - and tourists. ILLUSTRATION: Color photo
PAUL AIKEN/Staff
Marine Sgt. Bill Parsons sits on the deck of the tank-landing ship
Spartanburg County wondering whether the U.S. will invade Haiti.
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by CNB