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by Hap Rocketto

When I first began filling out what seemed like a never ending series of card stock 10 ½ by eight inch DA Form 1344s, the official name of which is “Entry and Score Card for NBRP Individual Service Rifle Match” there was an old wives tale existing that there were more individuals who were authorized to wear the Medal of Honor than those who had pinned on a Distinguished Badge.

What gave the story a patina of truth was that Army Regulations dealt with the possession of both awards in a similar manner. Each was to be held ready for inspection at anytime by competent authority. It made sense as the Medal of Honor is an award to be protected and, in those days, the Distinguished Badge was real gold.

The powers that be probably held that George Washington’s apocryphal statement, “Enlisted men are stupid, but extremely cunning and sly, and bear
considerable watching” was true. They certainly didn’t want a hard holding, but poorly paid and thirsty trooper, pawning or selling such a valuable award to slake his thirst at the sutler’s canteen.

It turned out that there was another kernel of truth in the rumor. At the time, when there were more than 3,000 Medal of Honors awarded, civilians combined for a less than a thousand rifle and pistol Badges. So, in that sense, there were more Medal of Honor recipients than Distinguished Riflemen and Pistol shots, if only civilians were counted.

There are only four men, known to me, who are authorized to wear both the nation’s highest award for valor and marksmanship skills. One hot July day in 1872 a small detachment Company F of the 5^th United States Calvary was engaged by 40 Apaches. Private John Nihill was detailed to cover the group’s withdrawal, an action for which he was awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor. Nihill continued his military career and in 1882 earned a place on the Department of the Platte Rifle Team. Three years later he was awarded the Distinguished Marksman Badge, making him the first recipient of both awards.

Sergeant Benjamin Brown, of Company C 24^th United States Infantry, was part of an escort protecting Paymaster Major Joseph W. Wham on May 11, 1889 in the Arizona Territory. Between Fort Grant and Fort Thomas, near Cedar Springs, they were attacked by bandits and in the ensuing battle Brown was shot through the abdomen. He continued his spirited defense of the payroll until wounded through both arms. For his actions he was awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor. He earned Distinguished Marksmen designation in 1890, and three years later the Cleveland Gazette, in the February 18, 1893, edition reported that he was one of the best marksmen in the Army.

Nearly a half century later, on the night of September 12, 1942, Marine Colonel Merritt Edson deployed his Raider Battalion, the Marine’s First Parachute Battalion, and some engineers and artillery crews along a ridgeline a mile south of Henderson Airfield on the hotly contested island of Guadalcanal and had them dig in. “Red Mike” Edson was no stranger to either combat or rifle shooting. During the 1920s and 1930s he won a Navy Cross fighting the Sandinistas in Nicaragua during the “Banana Wars” and a Distinguished Marksman Badge on various rifle ranges. His leadership skills were also evident as he took over a mediocre 1929 Marine Rifle Team and won back to back National Championships with it in 1930 and 1931.

Over the next two nights some 3,500 battle hardened Japanese infantry fell upon the thinly manned Marine lines for six major assaults. The enemy was so close that aircraft took off from Henderson Field, dropped their bombs, and landed, never having enough time to raise their landing gear. Edson’s conduct of the defense exhibited tactical expertise, command presence, and personal courage for which he was awarded the Medal of Honor.

The Japanese commander at Tarawa, Admiral Meicho Shibasaki, said that “a million Americans couldn’t take Tarawa in 100 years”. Fourteen months after Edson’s stand on Guadalcanal Marines under Colonel David Monroe Shoup would prove Shibasaki wrong, but at a terrible price.

After having his landing craft shot out from underneath him, getting wounded, and wading through the surf like most of the rest of his troops he took command of all troops ashore, rallying the ragged survivors of the first waves on the beach. Shoup’s brilliant performance was recognized by the award of the Medal of Honor.

Shoup had shot pistol for the Marines in the 1930s and had earned two legs. After the war, as a senior colonel he knew his opportunity to participate in major competition in the future would be slim. Determined to earn his last leg he found enough free time in his busy schedule to brush up his skills with the service pistol. His work ethic paid off and he pinned on the Distinguished Pistol Shot Badge in 1946.

By a twist of fate Shoup was relived on Tarawa by a more senior colonel named Merritt Edson.

Any member of the Army, Navy, Marines, Coast Guard, or Air Force who is awarded the Medal of Honor is truly distinguished, however Nihill, Brown, Edson, and Shoup are just a bit more Distinguished than the rest.

by Hap Rocketto

After shooting together for several days at a long ago Interservice the three of us who shared the point sat in the Quantico pits during a lull in the shooting and, for want of a better topic, discussed how we had become Non Commissioned Officers. Considering that we were all in the pay grade E-5 we were barely NCOs but our very junior status was still enough to get us out of the more onerous tasks that the lowest rated enlisted men must endure.

W.T. Doors was a Navy Petty Officer Second Class and he told of the rigorous schooling and testing that one went through in the Navy to be promoted. However, he said that he was a bit lucky in moving up. He was, he said, a DC2. Not the ancient airplane that preceded the DC3 for he was not in aviation, but in engineering and hull specialties. His area of expertise was damage control, therefore DC for Damage Controlman and 2 for Petty Officer 2^nd Class.

It seems his ship suffered a severe hull casualty while engaged in underway replenishment. Jones directed a damage control party and personally participated in shoring up a buckled bulkhead, securing loose machinery, temporarily sealing the ruptured hull plates, and rigging pumps to discharge seawater overboard. For his actions his captain awarded him both a Navy Commendation Medal and promotion to PO2/DC2/E-5. Personally, I didn’t think this was luck, but an appropriate award for an act of heroics and professional competence.

A.W. Meyers was a Marine sergeant right off a recruiting poster, hard body, hair high and tight, deeply tanned face, and a pinch of Copenhagen in his lower lip. Meyers considered that he was lucky in promotion also. He was honor man in recruit training which earned him PFC stripes right out of boot camp. He made Lance Corporal as soon as possible due to great efficiency reports, and after winning the Division matches he was meritoriously promoted to Corporal and then to sergeant after taking a gold at the Marine Corps Matches. Again, I didn’t think it was luck. Here was a hard working young professional soldier who paid attention to detail.

Then there was me. If any one knew about luck in promotion it was me. A short while earlier I was a corporal of no distinction, only because promotion to that grade was automatic being based on time in service. I was detailed to one of the many chores that befall those of little rank and less responsibility. My battalion was having a change of command I was one of a group of soldiers assigned to take the new CO and his party from the ceremony to a reception at headquarters.

The ceremony was to be rather long and we were told to keep out of sight but be ready when called. Our company commander had thoughtfully sent out box lunches and we stripped off our fatigue shirts so that they would stay creased free and safe from food stains as we lolled in a small grove of trees, all the while staying hidden as ordered.

We finished our lunches and sat yarning and yawning, all out of sight as we were told. The ceremony moved more quickly then expected and out of nowhere bolted our sergeant major. Irritated that his careful plans had gone awry he scattered us to our duty stations like a fox among hens. We grabbed at the neatly stacked pile of shirts, hurriedly tucking them in as we ran for the jeeps.

As luck would have it I drew the new CO and, not yet calmed down from being startled from my reverie and not that great a driver anyway, managed to “peel out” showering the jeep behind with small stones, shattering its windshield. I then caught the edge of the open water filled conduit that bordered the road. Fortunately I had insured the CO’s seat belt was latched before starting off and that saved him from being ejected into the swampy ditch. I can’t say the same for his gold braid covered hat. After grinding the gears, running a stop sign, and stalling to a stop in front of headquarters I at last delivered the steaming CO to his destination.

Looking about he spied Captain Sconyers, my company commander, who was trying to be as inconspicuous or, perhaps, invisible, if possible. Bad news rides a fast horse and the executive officer had radioed ahead to warn him. I knew I was in trouble but was out of earshot and all I saw was the pantomime of the colonel darting his finger at me, doing a poor job at controlling his raging anger, and barking something at the captain. I did not hear him snarl at the captain, “Make that man a sergeant! His performance today deserves that action, at the very least!” Sconyers, taking silent affront at the colonel’s imperious manner, saluted and replied, “Sir! Are you sure you want me to make that man a sergeant?” The reply, more a rebuke, came back quickly and sharply, “Captain that is what I said, that is what I mean, now see to it!”

Sconyers, a firm and fair man with a strong sense of discipline and a darker sense of humor, beckoned me over with a crooked forefinger and a hard look. We were well acquainted as I had spent a fair amount of time with my heels locked in front of his desk involved in one way discussions concerning my many minor miscreant military meanderings. With a disquieting Cheshire Cat grin on his face he said in a measured voice, “Rocketto, I have no choice. I don’t want to argue with the new colonel over such a trivial matter as your lack of driving skills. Make sure you check the company bulletin board tomorrow morning for your orders.”

Orders for what? My imagination ran wild, Alaska in January, the Sahara in July? I had no idea what was in store for me and he wasn’t telling. Then, tapping the name tape over my right pocket and pinching the rank insignia pin on my collar, he said,” Oh, and when you get back to the barracks make sure to return this shirt to Staff Sergeant Miller.”

And that is how I became an NCO.

by Hap Rocketto 

When Frankie Valli sang out ”Grease is the word…” in the title tune of the eponymously named musical movie I don’t suspect that he was thinking about the triumvirate of rifle lubricants and preservatives so well known to the older generation of shooting competitors, RIG, Lubriplate, and Plastilube.

The first of these iconic products to meet the public eye was RIG, which first hit the market in 1935. RIG, an acronym for Rust Inhibiting Grease, is primarily a preservative although it has been used a lubricant. A coated patch run through a barrel and a light swipe of it on the surface was as good as hermetically sealing the gun for long term storage.

RIG is much lighter, and more readily available, than Cosmoline, the sticky homogenous mixture of oily and waxy long-chain, non-polar hydrocarbons that was much favored by the military for long term preservation. A few swipes with a rag will remove RIG. The methods for removing Cosmoline run from the mundane; boiling water, mineral spirits, and elbow grease, to the bizarre, with my personal favorites being a car wash or the family dishwasher. The only thing they have in common is that none work too well.

A few years ago the shooting world was stunned when the Missouri based Jackson Safety Company announced that they were dropping the firearm maintenance icon from its product line. Many speculate that RIG’s demise was an example of a product that was done in by its low price and the fact that a little bit lasts forever. My brother has a pound tin he bought in the 60s which is still half full. There are reports of tubes still in use, bottoms partially rolled up, laying in gun cabinets since originally purchased in the 40s by the fathers and grandfathers of the present owners.

Birchwood Casey, a name long know in the firearms community for metal and wood finishing and firearm maintenance products came to rescue when they acquired RIG, which they continue to sell is under its original name as a Birchwood Casey product.

RIG products also included the ubiquitous RIG EZE-Scorer, the familiar “plug” found at rifle ranges all over the country and, in my day, sold in well made, snap closed, purple felt bags. That is no surprise when one remembers that the owners of RIG were the Wiles family of Chicago. Russell Wiles, father and son, were well known riflemen, founders of the Black Hawk Rifle Club, and their name adorns the trophy awarded to the Big Ten Rifle Team Champion.

Grease, Rifle, Lubriplate, manufactured by Fiske Brothers Refining Company, is the lubricant developed for the M1 Garand rifle during World War II. It is pale yellow in color and uses zinc oxide and calcium-based soap as its main ingredient. It is most familiarly found in a small clear plastic container with yellow screw-on cap. Commonly called a ‘pot’, the container neatly fits into the cleaning equipment compartment located in the butt end of the rifle’s stock under the folding metal butt plate.

The older pots’ screw on cap carries the embossed words, “GREASE, RIFLE, LUBRIPLATE, 130-A” in uppercase letters. The containers are about 7/8th of an inch in diameter and about the same height and hold approximately a quarter of an ounce Lubriplate.

Plastilube grease, Lubriplate’s successor, was introduced in January 1950 by Warren Refining & Chemical Company. Lubriplate is a dark reddish-brown in color and differs from Lubriplate in that it uses inorganic clay as its thickening agent. As a result it has a much thicker consistency than its predecessor. It was supplied in the same yellow topped container but without the labeling.

For many years both Lubriplate and Plastilube were in the supply system and were often found interchangeably in both the M1 and M14 rifles. The Military Qualified Products List for military specification rifle grease was last updated in March of 1992. The sole entry on the latest list is Lubriplate RG-62-A, which is the equivalent to Lubriplate 130-A, and it is made by, of course, Fiske Brothers Refining Company.

Other lubricants and preservatives have come along to supplant even these venerable products. In the mid 1960s there appeared GREASE, RIFLE, MIL-G46003(ORD) AMEND 2. It was packed in round green one pound cans with yellow lettering which were reminiscent of Planters Peanut cans. They were both opened with a detachable key that wound off a razor sharp band of wire that was fully capable of taking off a finger or two.

This product was swiftly followed by “LSA WEAPONS OIL MEDIUM” which was issued in a two ounce squeeze bottle in the traditional OD color replete with yellow printing. The answer to a little know trivia question is that LSA stands for “Lubricant, Semifluid, Automatic weapons.” Hard on LSA’s heels came “CLP CLEANER, LUBRICANT, PRESERVATIVE”, known commercially as “Breakfree”. This product broke free from military tradition as it was issued in commercial containers ranging from a half of an ounce squeeze bottle to a gallon jug.

Even as things change in lubrication and protection unguents for firearms it is good to see some of the old standbys are still hanging on. There may be newer cleaners than Hoppes #9 on the market but, after century of service, what shooter cannot peel a ripe banana and immediately be reminded of the smell of Hoppes #9. The pungent odor rushing him back to a firing line or hunting camp in the distant past full of old friends and happy memories? So it is with RIG and Lubriplate.