Camp Pendleton

We have lived on the Marine Corps Base Camp Pendleton for a week now.  Located North of San Diego, the base is the prime amphibious training base for the Marines.  With 17 miles of coastline and 125,000 acres of diverse desert-like terrain, it is an important location for sea to shore training of Marines and other branches of the military.

Our first morning here, we were eating breakfast when a caravan of Amphibious Assault Vehicles (AAVs) passed on their way to the Del Mar Marina. As I look at the Marines at work, I see youngsters the age of my daughters.  Their faces are ruddy and sun-kissed, their expressions serious and on task.  Their training is not without risk.  A year ago one of these AAV’s sank in the marina and a young Marine died.

I can’t mistake these Marines for children.  Most here have been to Iraq or Afghanistan at least once.  The numbers tell the story: as of January 2012, 3,708 troops have lost their lives in our Wars on Terror.   The Marines make up 10.8% of the Department of Defense forces, but they have had 23.3% of all combat-related deaths.  In addition, 420 Marine officers and 8,178 enlisted men and women have been wounded in action.  The Wounded Warrior Center here on base is, unfortunately, a busy place.

Camp Pendleton was established in 1942 to train Marines for World War II.  Marines lived in tents and Quonset huts.  By 1944, it was declared a permanent installation by FDR.  During the Korea and Vietnam, some 200,000 Marines would pass through here on the way to the Far East, including my brother-in-law John Chadd.  The men of the Vietnam era would not recognize Pendleton today: There are now more than 2,600 buildings and the base has 500 miles of roads.

In 1975, Pendleton was the first military base in the United States to provide accommodations for Vietnamese evacuees in Operation New Arrivals.  50,000 refugees came here in the largest humanitarian airlift in history.

Today the sun is shining, and I watch as young guys in colorful shorts and t-shirts carry coolers of beer and footballs to the beach for a well-earned break. Many have wives or girlfriends with them. The picture is deceiving: It is anywhere USA on the beach in the spring, but even at play, these guys carry the weight of the world on their shoulders.