Happy Birthday Marines!

It is that time of year again. The time when we pull the uniform out of the closet, roast a beef, and raise our glasses of grog to those no longer with us as well as to each other. I can’t attend any of the balls this weekend but hope that those who do have a great time. Save me some cake!

Happy 228th, Semper Fi and Oorah!

My marine is celebrating by wearing his chocolate chip cammo to work today.

My friend is celebrating by getting drunk. Supposedly, this is how it’s celebrated. I’ll be joining him.

It’s a few days early, but HAPPY BIRTHDAY! I’m gonna celebrate by having a pint or two, then I’m gonna pour a canteen cup of MRE coffee on the ground for all my dead homies(see http://www.40ozmaltliquor.com/tipping.html for an interesting history of the whole malt-liquor-for-my-homies thing). Actually, I WILL be having a few pints at the saloon with my favorite bartender, Tammy, who was also a Marine. One of my brothers is in the Corps and is coming home in a week and a half or so, so I get to celebrate again when he is here. The Marine Corps was born in a bar (Tun Tavern, Nov 10, 1775) so it is only fitting to celebrate in a bar.

Semper Fi

I didn’t serve in the Corps, but I hope you will take this in the spirit in which it was intended.

Semper Fidelis

Thank you. All of you.

I remember one particular instance where I was crawling a single line across a river, when my recruiter asked me when and where the Marine Corps was born. Correctly, I answered, “Sir, 10 November 1775, Tun’s Tavern, Philadelphia, Sir!”. I knew the facts, but I never heard the full story–anyone got a link?

Regardless, the US Marine Corps are some of the finest SOBs I’ve ever had the priviledge of knowing.

Happy birthday, Devil Dogs.

May you guys kick ass for another 500 years.

Indeed, Tripler. They get the shit jobs, and they get them done every time. Despite the interservice rivalries that exist, they have my respect and admiration.

Here’s to you, Jarheads. raises glass

Oh, and take care of my cousin. He’s on the Island right now, and will likely see some time in Iraq when he gets out. Watch his back for me, since I can’t. Thanks.

Tripler asked:

I don’t remember the names and such. But the story of founding the Corps was that a Major and a Captain were set the chore of raising a regiment of Marines. Not knowing exactly how to go about this they decided to wait around Tun Tavern and see if any likely looking men came in.

Shortly after making themselves comfortable a man approached and asked what they were up to. They explained and asked if he’d like to join. When he hesitated the Captain offered to buy him a flagon of ale is he did. So he signed up and took a seat in the corner to enjoy his ale.

About an hour later he was joined by another man who had two flagons of ale. “Where’d you get those,” he asked.

“Those gents over there gave them to me for joining the Marines,” he replied, pointing at the officers.

The first man looked at the two flagons of ale for a bit before shaking his head and replying, “It wasn’t like that in the old Corps.”

It wasn’t like that in the old Corps being a running joke in the Marines. It was always tougher in the past. Ok…I’, going now please don’t hurt me.

USMC 1966-70

My son is a Young Marine . The whole family will be going to a Birthday Ball.

The little Corporal and future DI says:


From Bluesman and myself, to our brothers and sisters in the Corps, past, present, and future:
Happy Birthday, and thank you for your service.

No link, Trip, but going on memory, the Continental Congress decided to create two battalions of Marines. One of their meeting places was Tun Tavern, which is also where the Pennsylvania milita was formed. Samuel Nicholas was given the job to form it up and became the first commandant. He gave Robert Mullen the the job of recruiting, which he did from the tavern, because he owned the place. He did quite well as the tavern was a very popular place.

Some of the world’s best ideas come from a bunch of guys sitting in a bar:)

I’ll second that! :smiley:

Thanks for the stories, though.

The local drinkery is frequented by a number of Leathernecks. They roll down from Camp Oceanside (That’s Pendleton, of course) and each year I go down with a full wallet to make sure they don’t pay for any drinks they don’t have to.