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Elvis's Graceland / Memphis, TN.
By Marc "Devil Dog Of The Web" Iseli / Updated Dec. 2025
On Labor Day weekend, three days of government-mandated liberty, I naturally decided to invade Memphis. I rope in another Marine from my boot camp platoon, because nothing says 'good decision' like doubling the stupidity. We commandeered a bus, and the driver must've smelled the du jour Devil Dog, because he broke land-speed records, getting us 20 miles in 27 minutes flat. Next thing you know, we're ejected into downtown Memphis on a Sunday morning, which was about as lively as a mess hall after a surprise MRE inspection. We start humping all over creation, boots holding up better than our common sense. For reasons only known to the gods of bad ideas, we wander through neighborhoods where two Marines stood out like snowballs in a coal chute. Young, dumb, and running on pure boot camp bravado.

After a ten-mile forced march that would make Chesty Puller proud, we finally stagger up to Graceland. This was before it turned into the Disneyland of dead rock stars, just two years after Elvis punched out for the last time. We didn’t make it inside, but we did breach the perimeter and pay our respects at his grave. By then, the sun was bailing out, we’d missed the last bus, and our brilliant plan was circling the drain. At that point, I couldn’t tell if we were fearless, brain-dead, or just blessed by the ghost of the King. Salvation came in the form of a USO, which let us rack out for free, luxury accommodations, if you consider the alternative was spooning a park bench in downtown Memphis. Hell of a liberty run, and one for the record books, and a photo album.
Visit My Photo Album
Photos of RF-4B, MCAS Cherry Point.

Alright, you glorious Rat Phixers and Phlyers, if we ever survived a TAD, a Det, or a BOHICA, who haven't, and you didn’t think I was the biggest gaff off in the squadron. Got a sea story, or some grainy photos your ex didn’t set on fire, and they’re only slightly illegal? Send ‘em by email, snail mail, or safety wire it to a carrier pigeon. I collect ‘em all, just nothing that would incriminate me.
80svmfp3@gmail.com

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