Sunday, May 18, 2025
Saturday, May 17, 2025
Radar Hill, Yuma, Arizona May 16, 2025
A fine Hill, in the middle of the Marine Corps Air Station Yuma, Arizona. I worked at the base of this hill in "The Bubble", a fiberglass prefab shelter that we would take into the desert on field operations. Our radar was at the top of the hill.
LCpl Piconne broke his leg coming down the hill. And later we sent a Marine Reserve radio jeep to Yuma, and they went to the top of the Hill, where they were arrested by the MP's - no one knew they were supposed to be at Yuma.
Thursday, May 15, 2025
Reunion !! Yuma, Arizona May 14-18, 2025
Craig Hullinger, Dennis Herring, Keith Carrizosa
Gary Corbett, Craig Hullinger, Dennis Herring, Keith Carrizosa
Click for more photos
The MACCS/MACS reunion will convene May 14-18 2025 in Yuma Arizona. Our schedule is packed with time to catch up with old friends and to make a few new friends. There are also several entertaining and educational events scheduled such as bowling, golf and a visit to MACS 1. During our visit to MACS-1 we will be supported by representatives from HQMC aviation branch, Marine Corps Combat Development Command (CD&I), Marine Corps Communication Electronics School (MCCES), Marine Operational Test and Evaluation Squadron (VMX-1) and Marine Aviation Weapons and Tactics Squadron One (MAWTS-1).
The MACS -1 visit is scheduled for Friday, the event syllabus is not firmed up yet but likely will consist of presentations regarding Force Redesign (such as TACC to MACS in 3rd MAW, TACC to MASS in 2nd MAW, changes to MOSs), Equipment Overview (such as new MWSS gear, TACAN variants, G/ATOR, MADIS), Changes to the Schoolhouse and a tour of MACS-1.
Wednesday, May 14, 2025
Yuma Inn: A Marine's Demise - Using AI To Write A Murder Story
Yuma Inn: A Marine's Demise
Write a short story starring Master Gunnery Sergeant Dennis Herring, Master Sergeant Keith Carrizoza, and Lance Corporal Craig Hullinger. It's a murderer - Herring murders Carrizosa.
The desert wind, a dry and whispering menace, clawed at the corrugated iron walls of the Yuma Inn. Inside, the air hung thick with stale cigarette smoke and the ghosts of a thousand forgotten travelers. Master Gunnery Sergeant Dennis Herring, a man whose face looked like it had been carved from sun-baked leather, nursed a lukewarm beer at the sticky bar. His eyes, the color of faded denim, scanned the near-empty room.
Master Sergeant Keith Carrizosa swaggered in, his usual boisterous energy a little muted tonight. He clapped Herring on the shoulder, the force of it making the older Marine grunt. "Herring, you old devil! Didn't expect to see you drowning your sorrows in this dive."
Herring’s gaze remained fixed on his beer. "Just killing time, Carrizosa."
Lance Corporal Craig Hullinger, looking young enough to still be carding groceries, trailed in behind Carrizosa. He offered a nervous smile to Herring. "Evening, Gunny."
Carrizosa slapped Hullinger on the back. "Bought the kid his first legal drink. Figured he needed a taste of the real world after another week of KP."
They settled at a nearby table, the laughter between Carrizosa and Hullinger a stark contrast to Herring's brooding silence. The air crackled with a subtle tension that only years of shared deployments and unspoken rivalries could generate. Herring had always seen Carrizosa's easy charm as a superficial mask, a way to climb the ranks without the grit Herring prided himself on.
Hours bled into each other, fueled by cheap beer and louder voices. Hullinger, eventually succumbing to the alcohol, excused himself to the restroom. Carrizosa leaned closer to Herring, a smirk playing on his lips. "You know, Herring," he slurred slightly, "some guys are just born to lead. Others... well, they just fade into the background."
Something in Herring’s eyes flickered, a dangerous spark igniting in the depths. He set his beer down with a heavy thud. "Leadership ain't about charm, Carrizosa. It's about sacrifice. Something you wouldn't understand."
Carrizosa laughed, a harsh, grating sound. "Sacrifice? You call polishing boots and barking orders sacrifice? I've seen more action in my little finger than you have in your entire career, old man."
The words hung in the air, thick and venomous. The years of simmering resentment boiled over in Herring. He stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the linoleum. Carrizosa, surprised by the sudden movement, started to rise as well.
In that instant, the dim light of the bar seemed to warp and distort. Herring’s hand, calloused and strong, shot out. Not for a handshake, not for a shove. It clamped around Carrizosa's throat, his thumb pressing hard against the Adam's apple.
Carrizosa’s eyes widened in disbelief, the laughter dying in his throat. He clawed at Herring’s hand, his breath coming in ragged gasps. The jovial color drained from his face, replaced by a stark, terrifying blue.
Hullinger stumbled back from the restroom, his eyes widening in horror at the scene unfolding before him. He froze, the alcohol-induced haze momentarily forgotten.
Herring’s grip tightened. The struggle was brief, brutal. Carrizosa’s body went limp, his eyes staring blankly at the ceiling.
Herring released him, and Carrizosa slumped to the floor with a sickening thud. The silence in the bar was deafening, broken only by Hullinger’s ragged breathing.
Herring looked down at the lifeless form, his face devoid of emotion. He turned slowly to Hullinger, his denim eyes cold and hard. The desert wind howled outside, a mournful cry echoing the sudden, violent end within the walls of the lonely Yuma Inn.