A Father's Revenge
Authored By: Bradley Chapline
July 2012
Authored By: Bradley Chapline
July 2012
It was the early 1970's, and as a U.S. Marine on board a naval warship, I was on another unscheduled expeditionary deployment to the Mediterranean.
I was not in a good mood. However, I had recently been very happy since I had been taken away from Marine grunt life and became the (CPO's) Chief Petty Officers cook. But, that didn't last long. There was an important amphibious landing coming up in connection with a possible combat operation. Marine commanders decided they needed this practice amphibious landing in Italy to ensure our unit was a force in readiness. But, for me, amphibious landings really scared me, because I didn't know how to swim. I definitely hadn't paid attention in classes that taught how to make flotation devices out of uniform jackets and trousers.
I already had several close calls drowning in ocean waters. I figured there had to be a way for me to get out of going on this amphibious landing.
That night I had followed orders and got my combat gear ready for the next day's send off.
However, I decided to smoke a bowl of some pretty potent hashish just before being ordered to report to the ship's debarkation station. It was located on the lower well deck of the ship. I figured if I was probably going to die from drowning in the ocean waters, I was going to be stoned in doing it.
I watched the well dock take on water. In my eyes, it was almost psychedelic. The ship's stern was then lowered, and the well deck was flooded. Our landing craft, now fully loaded with Marines, was ready to be put out to sea for our amphibious landing.
Surprisingly, I had never been more relaxed on an amphibious operation! Once in the water, I floated towards shore until my feet hit a sandbar. I could now walk, only belly deep in ocean water to the beachhead. I had one big smirk on my face.
Once setting up a bivouac area on the coast of Italy, I was now really glad I came on this operation. The view of the Italian countryside was spectacular, and I didn't mind eating leftover C-rations from World War II.
My platoon commander ordered me to go on a night patrol. I was placed with the four other Marines of whom I had earlier smoked hashish with back on ship.
Approximately one hour or so into the patrol, the four Marines found a cave. They invited me inside to smoke some hashish with them. I was stunned at the amount of hash they had in their possession. It was almost a whole brick!
But, I passed on the offer. The four Marines went inside the cave to get high, and quickly, I became the outcast.
About twenty minutes later, the four Marines came out of the cave, virtually staggering. Upon resuming the patrol, I was told to get at the end of the group and keep my mouth shut.
About a half-hour later I could see in the short distance, through the trees, a campfire. I also heard what I believed to be girls singing and giggling. I was hoping the other Marines on patrol were too high to recognize the presence of girls. But, they weren't. I heard the Marines talking about the possibility of getting some Italian pussy. But, at this moment I thought they were only talking trash.
The four Marines I was with quickly picked their girl. Almost immediately the Marines began kissing these underage girls. I had sat, by myself, on the other side of the campfire. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. These girls couldn't be any older than fourteen. But, the girls seemed to be enjoying all the kissing. But, when the Marines began touching the girls private areas, they began resisting. But then, the Marines responded with physical force. I yelled, repeatedly, telling the Marines to stop. But, they paid absolutely no attention to me. Then, when I saw the Marines pulling out their penises and tearing off the girls clothing and underwear, I had seen more than enough. I went into my knapsack searching for my bayonet.
I walked over to my squad leader, (Corporal Hutchinson) and pressed the point of my bayonet on the backside of his head. I said, "Get your dick out of her right now or you are a dead man." I then told the three other Marines to get off those girls too, or their buddy will die.
All four girls were crying their eyes out. The girl that Corporal Hutchinson had been raping was bleeding a good bit from her vagina.
All four Marines quickly got their dicks back in their trousers and went back on patrol. Of course, I was not invited.
Moments later, all four girls took off running away in different directions.
The campfire area was left a mess. But, most importantly, I didn't want to leave the still blazing campfire unattended. Besides, the rapes that had already taken place were bad enough, but, the last thing the Marines needed was the possibility of a fire that could well burn down, not only the beautiful Italian countryside, but, as well, the locals community.
While bent over picking up trash at the site of the campfire, a metal object suddenly hit me over the back of my head. I fell flat on my face, but was lucky enough to still be somewhat conscious. I heard the girls yelling, but I couldn't understand what they were saying. A couple of moments later two men brought me back to my feet. One of the girl's father spoke English. He apologized for attacking me. At first, he thought I was one of the rapists. I sure was glad the girls had come back to the campfire with their fathers. I'm sure those men would have killed me right then and there.
I was asked by the father to give up all the information that I knew about the four Marines. This put me in one hell of a situation. I asked the father who spoke English if the particulars I released about the four Marines would be turned over to the local police. The father was honest. He said, "No, we have our own ways of handling things like this." I knew exactly what that meant.
I walked over to the campfire and sat down. Several minutes later, the father who spoke English, (Angelo) came and sat next to me. He said, "Think about if this was your little innocent girl." I then glanced at the shreds of bloody panties laying next to the campfire. I decided to tell Angelo all the personal information I knew about those four Marines.
The meeting took a bit over an hour to complete. I had, in fact, told Angelo everything I knew, including the name of our ship, and that we were next scheduled for another type of military operation. However, I told Angelo I didn't know where this was located. I was shocked when Angelo said, "I know, your ship will be pulling into Naples for liberty right after these maneuvers have concluded." I kind of smiled at Angelo. It always seemed the locals in these ports most times knew more about ship's operations than any of us stationed onboard.
Moments later, Angelo put his arm around my shoulder and began guiding me back towards the Marine bivouac camp. Now, I wasn't surprised that he knew where all of us Marines were camped out.
Upon my arrival back at the bivouac camp, no one said a word to me. And, I said absolutely nothing. All the Marines in my platoon had paired up in pitching their tents for the night. However, I slept, alone, intermittently, sitting up, and under my poncho.
The next few days had passed, but relatively slowly for me. I had to constantly watch my back, and this was making me quite jumpy.
Angelo was right. Our ship had pulled into the port city of Naples, Italy. Naples was known for being a dangerous place for U.S. servicemen. I had decided to not take liberty and stand guard for other Marines who wanted time ashore. They were paying me a handsome price for standing their guard duty.
On the third day of liberty in Naples, once again, I was standing guard duty down on the ship's well deck. Suddenly, the ship's emergency alert system was activated. It was so loud, I thought my eardrums would burst. These emergency alerts were said to be heard over most areas of Naples. So, I knew something big had happened, somewhere out there. I stayed on my post and kept my mouth shut.
Later on that night when getting off duty I went up to sick bay and showed a navy corpsman my head wound. While giving me stitches, he told me that four Marines, presumably from my platoon, while on liberty, and in civilian clothes were allegedly ambushed by a group of Sicilian men. All four Marines had been stabbed multiple times in their torso area. The corpsman said this incident was confirmed by Shore Patrol authorities to be a professional hit.
Two Marines were dead, and the other two Marines were listed as critical.. I learned through listening to the Marines rumor mill that the names of the victims were in fact the four Marine rapists.
The third Marine died on the ship's operating table in sick bay. The lone surviving Marine, my former squad leader, was being airlifted back to the United States.
Due to mandated cross-decking of multiple tours of overseas duty, I didn't return to Camp Lejeune, North Carolina for another year. But, when I did return for a short span, I discovered my old squad leader who raped that Italian teenage girl was still hospitalized. He was located at the U.S. Naval Hospital, New River, North Carolina.
I contemplated for several weeks whether or not I was going to visit him. I then decided to go to the New River Naval Hospital to visit this no-good sonofabitch. The hospital was only about fifteen miles away from my barracks.
The moment Corporal Hutchinson saw me standing in the doorway to his semi-private hospital room, he knew exactly who I was. But, I didn't say a word. I just gave him a malevolent stare until he pulled his bed sheets over his head.
My once squad leader, Corporal Hutchinson never returned to full duty. In fact, approximately five months later, after my visit, he died a very painful death. This rapist of an innocent teenage girl deserved him this type of ending to his life.
I never spoke one word of this incident to anyone for the next three and a half decades.
I was not in a good mood. However, I had recently been very happy since I had been taken away from Marine grunt life and became the (CPO's) Chief Petty Officers cook. But, that didn't last long. There was an important amphibious landing coming up in connection with a possible combat operation. Marine commanders decided they needed this practice amphibious landing in Italy to ensure our unit was a force in readiness. But, for me, amphibious landings really scared me, because I didn't know how to swim. I definitely hadn't paid attention in classes that taught how to make flotation devices out of uniform jackets and trousers.
I already had several close calls drowning in ocean waters. I figured there had to be a way for me to get out of going on this amphibious landing.
That night I had followed orders and got my combat gear ready for the next day's send off.
However, I decided to smoke a bowl of some pretty potent hashish just before being ordered to report to the ship's debarkation station. It was located on the lower well deck of the ship. I figured if I was probably going to die from drowning in the ocean waters, I was going to be stoned in doing it.
I watched the well dock take on water. In my eyes, it was almost psychedelic. The ship's stern was then lowered, and the well deck was flooded. Our landing craft, now fully loaded with Marines, was ready to be put out to sea for our amphibious landing.
Surprisingly, I had never been more relaxed on an amphibious operation! Once in the water, I floated towards shore until my feet hit a sandbar. I could now walk, only belly deep in ocean water to the beachhead. I had one big smirk on my face.
Once setting up a bivouac area on the coast of Italy, I was now really glad I came on this operation. The view of the Italian countryside was spectacular, and I didn't mind eating leftover C-rations from World War II.
My platoon commander ordered me to go on a night patrol. I was placed with the four other Marines of whom I had earlier smoked hashish with back on ship.
Approximately one hour or so into the patrol, the four Marines found a cave. They invited me inside to smoke some hashish with them. I was stunned at the amount of hash they had in their possession. It was almost a whole brick!
But, I passed on the offer. The four Marines went inside the cave to get high, and quickly, I became the outcast.
About twenty minutes later, the four Marines came out of the cave, virtually staggering. Upon resuming the patrol, I was told to get at the end of the group and keep my mouth shut.
About a half-hour later I could see in the short distance, through the trees, a campfire. I also heard what I believed to be girls singing and giggling. I was hoping the other Marines on patrol were too high to recognize the presence of girls. But, they weren't. I heard the Marines talking about the possibility of getting some Italian pussy. But, at this moment I thought they were only talking trash.
The four Marines I was with quickly picked their girl. Almost immediately the Marines began kissing these underage girls. I had sat, by myself, on the other side of the campfire. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. These girls couldn't be any older than fourteen. But, the girls seemed to be enjoying all the kissing. But, when the Marines began touching the girls private areas, they began resisting. But then, the Marines responded with physical force. I yelled, repeatedly, telling the Marines to stop. But, they paid absolutely no attention to me. Then, when I saw the Marines pulling out their penises and tearing off the girls clothing and underwear, I had seen more than enough. I went into my knapsack searching for my bayonet.
I walked over to my squad leader, (Corporal Hutchinson) and pressed the point of my bayonet on the backside of his head. I said, "Get your dick out of her right now or you are a dead man." I then told the three other Marines to get off those girls too, or their buddy will die.
All four girls were crying their eyes out. The girl that Corporal Hutchinson had been raping was bleeding a good bit from her vagina.
All four Marines quickly got their dicks back in their trousers and went back on patrol. Of course, I was not invited.
Moments later, all four girls took off running away in different directions.
The campfire area was left a mess. But, most importantly, I didn't want to leave the still blazing campfire unattended. Besides, the rapes that had already taken place were bad enough, but, the last thing the Marines needed was the possibility of a fire that could well burn down, not only the beautiful Italian countryside, but, as well, the locals community.
While bent over picking up trash at the site of the campfire, a metal object suddenly hit me over the back of my head. I fell flat on my face, but was lucky enough to still be somewhat conscious. I heard the girls yelling, but I couldn't understand what they were saying. A couple of moments later two men brought me back to my feet. One of the girl's father spoke English. He apologized for attacking me. At first, he thought I was one of the rapists. I sure was glad the girls had come back to the campfire with their fathers. I'm sure those men would have killed me right then and there.
I was asked by the father to give up all the information that I knew about the four Marines. This put me in one hell of a situation. I asked the father who spoke English if the particulars I released about the four Marines would be turned over to the local police. The father was honest. He said, "No, we have our own ways of handling things like this." I knew exactly what that meant.
I walked over to the campfire and sat down. Several minutes later, the father who spoke English, (Angelo) came and sat next to me. He said, "Think about if this was your little innocent girl." I then glanced at the shreds of bloody panties laying next to the campfire. I decided to tell Angelo all the personal information I knew about those four Marines.
The meeting took a bit over an hour to complete. I had, in fact, told Angelo everything I knew, including the name of our ship, and that we were next scheduled for another type of military operation. However, I told Angelo I didn't know where this was located. I was shocked when Angelo said, "I know, your ship will be pulling into Naples for liberty right after these maneuvers have concluded." I kind of smiled at Angelo. It always seemed the locals in these ports most times knew more about ship's operations than any of us stationed onboard.
Moments later, Angelo put his arm around my shoulder and began guiding me back towards the Marine bivouac camp. Now, I wasn't surprised that he knew where all of us Marines were camped out.
Upon my arrival back at the bivouac camp, no one said a word to me. And, I said absolutely nothing. All the Marines in my platoon had paired up in pitching their tents for the night. However, I slept, alone, intermittently, sitting up, and under my poncho.
The next few days had passed, but relatively slowly for me. I had to constantly watch my back, and this was making me quite jumpy.
Angelo was right. Our ship had pulled into the port city of Naples, Italy. Naples was known for being a dangerous place for U.S. servicemen. I had decided to not take liberty and stand guard for other Marines who wanted time ashore. They were paying me a handsome price for standing their guard duty.
On the third day of liberty in Naples, once again, I was standing guard duty down on the ship's well deck. Suddenly, the ship's emergency alert system was activated. It was so loud, I thought my eardrums would burst. These emergency alerts were said to be heard over most areas of Naples. So, I knew something big had happened, somewhere out there. I stayed on my post and kept my mouth shut.
Later on that night when getting off duty I went up to sick bay and showed a navy corpsman my head wound. While giving me stitches, he told me that four Marines, presumably from my platoon, while on liberty, and in civilian clothes were allegedly ambushed by a group of Sicilian men. All four Marines had been stabbed multiple times in their torso area. The corpsman said this incident was confirmed by Shore Patrol authorities to be a professional hit.
Two Marines were dead, and the other two Marines were listed as critical.. I learned through listening to the Marines rumor mill that the names of the victims were in fact the four Marine rapists.
The third Marine died on the ship's operating table in sick bay. The lone surviving Marine, my former squad leader, was being airlifted back to the United States.
Due to mandated cross-decking of multiple tours of overseas duty, I didn't return to Camp Lejeune, North Carolina for another year. But, when I did return for a short span, I discovered my old squad leader who raped that Italian teenage girl was still hospitalized. He was located at the U.S. Naval Hospital, New River, North Carolina.
I contemplated for several weeks whether or not I was going to visit him. I then decided to go to the New River Naval Hospital to visit this no-good sonofabitch. The hospital was only about fifteen miles away from my barracks.
The moment Corporal Hutchinson saw me standing in the doorway to his semi-private hospital room, he knew exactly who I was. But, I didn't say a word. I just gave him a malevolent stare until he pulled his bed sheets over his head.
My once squad leader, Corporal Hutchinson never returned to full duty. In fact, approximately five months later, after my visit, he died a very painful death. This rapist of an innocent teenage girl deserved him this type of ending to his life.
I never spoke one word of this incident to anyone for the next three and a half decades.
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