COMMUNITY COMMENTARY:Appreciation for Marines now, hope for when they return

A group of Marines has been coming to Newport Beach for an annual bash — and several smaller functions. The community sponsors these events, and provides other support for the Marines and their families. Good feelings abound.

But what’s it going to be like when this new generation of veterans comes back to stay?

It all started two years ago when a group of Newport Beach residents decided to put on a $200-per-plate black tie dinner at the Balboa Bay Club. What developed was a stand-out evening in a city that is well-experienced in pricey affairs for high rollers. About 165 members of the 1st Battalion, 1st Marines from nearby Camp Pendleton were invited as the guests of nearly 300 civilians. The city had “adopted” the battalion some months earlier, and this was the first significant event in the relationship between the two organizations. The occasion was the battalion’s imminent deployment to classified-but-wecould-all-guess-where.

The evening was billed as a Mess Night — an unlikely term for a formal dinner that is an odd mixture of military tradition and structured silliness. This one was fun right from the start. Marines in Dress Blues mixed easily with the tux-clad civilians during the cocktail hour. (The open bar probably helped.) Bagpipers provided entertainment and led the way as the ballroom doors were thrown open for the main event.

The local folks who put on this party did so to show their respect and appreciation to those young Marines in a very personal way. The gesture went way beyond making some sort of political statement; and the Marines knew it. Their response was to see to it that the civilian attendees were treated to one heck of a party.

There were rules of the mess, blessedly short speeches, and a series of formal and impromptu toasts. At the head table sat the president of the mess. His chief assistant, Mr. Vice, was seated alone across the room. Their job was to maintain order and dole out punishments for violations of the rules (real or perceived). The Marines were appropriately rowdy, and the atmosphere was loud, spirited and good-natured.

Those who charged others with rules violations did so at their peril because in most cases the accuser was fined rather than the accused. Discussing politics was absolutely forbidden. One attendee who jokingly brought up the issue of fire safety with all the hot air in the room was sent by the president to count all the fire extinguishers in the building and report back. It was all tongue-in-cheek, with those being punished sometimes objecting to the fact that their fines were too small.

There were serious moments as well. A special table for fallen comrades was set at one side of the room. Along with the perfectly arranged solitary place setting sat a freshly washed white cover, sword, gloves and a Purple Heart. A lone black candle burned at that table throughout the evening. The large room became very still during the sergeant major’s moving toast to those members of the battalion who were with us in spirit only.

The final toast to the Corps was followed by the singing of the “Marines’ Hymn” by all present (even other service veterans). You had to be there.

The jovial banter was great fun, but the lower-key conversations among the residents and their Marine guests at individual tables around the room provided interaction on another level. Many of the civilian participants had little prior exposure to military members. That night they observed, and even shared in, the repartee among members of an actual military unit, with no media filter.

Attitudes about where their battalion was headed varied only a little among the young Marines. A common remark was that they were trained, prepared and “good to go.”

Since that first Mess Night in 2004, the battalion has completed two full combat deployments. There was a second Mess Night in between. Now they are back again, and another sold-out Mess Night is scheduled for Oct. 26.

Along with other donations, the net proceeds of these affairs are being used to support the battalion — with a priority to the families of young enlisted Marines. This has included help with minor emergencies like broken appliances and transportation; fun stuff such as picnics and parties for the kids; supplies for a welcome-home bash; and baseball tickets for some of the wounded who came home early. Less pleasant but no less important was sending flowers and condolences to the families of 11 members of the battalion who were lost, as well as providing a memorial in their names, which now stands at the Battalion Headquarters at Camp Pendleton.

During the break at that first Mess Night, one of my contemporaries commented about the contrast between the reception these Marines were experiencing and what he and I had encountered going and coming from Vietnam. His point was true enough, but other contrasts also came to my mind — the kind of thing that most attendees probably weren’t thinking about. I was wondering what it would be like for these new veterans when they leave the service.

Knowing they are supported is great. But for their own good, I hope these young Marines pick up on something beyond the good food on the table and goodwill in the air. Among the attendees at these Mess Nights are a lot of successful veterans from every branch of the service. There are police officers, attorneys, judges, elected officials, business owners, occasional Hollywood celebrities and other career professionals. Their military experience is part of what defines them, but it does not consume them. They have gone on to full lives and successful careers.

Sadly, there are some veterans of my generation who are not doing as well. Too much of whatever energy they have remains focused on old issues. Don’t get me wrong, I’m no fonder of Jane Fonda than the next guy, but that was then, and this is now.

Someday, each of those Marines will return for good. The injured among them will deserve the best possible care, of course. But for almost all of them, the underappreciated task of fitting in as regular citizens will be more of a challenge than they expect. What the folks who throw these parties can do to help with that transition does not involve any coddling. Ironically, the best thing we can do for these new veterans is to ask them to be of help to the rest of us.

Having proven themselves in extraordinarily demanding situations, these former servicemen and servicewomen will be very capable of taking on responsibility and leadership in civilian life. And we should hold them to it. The experience and character they bring to their communities will be as important to the future of the country as the military service they have already rendered.

When they leave the service, I hope these new veterans will identify with the success stories they see among their predecessors at these Mess Nights. Because in the end, how well they are compensated for what they do next will be much more important than the fact that they will never be adequately compensated for what they have already done — and compensation is more than money.

As they move on to civilian life, I hope these new veterans continue to show the country that they are still the “good-to-go” generation.