Lake Tahoe Posts

PINE NUTS: Sgt. Reckless
A good friend of mine, and talented Chautauquan, Kim Harris, writes for Western History Alive. Kim recently penned an excellent piece about a Mongolian mare that touched my heart. So I asked Kim if I could work, “Sgt. Reckless” into a Pine Nuts column, and she gave me her blessings…
“Sgt. Reckless,” as she was named, did not enlist in the Marine Corps, she was drafted. During the Korean War back in 1952 our Marines were wearing themselves out carrying heavy recoilless rifles up and down the steep Korean terrain, so one Marine company pooled their money and bought themselves a horse.
The recoilless had a horrendous blowback blast that lifted Reckless right off the ground the first time the two of them got acquainted, but she got used to bearing those blasts, and carried the effective weapon to wherever a vantage point was determined.
Then came “The Battle of the Nevada Cities,” one of the bloodiest battles of the Korean War. Our three outposts, “Vegas,” “Carson” and “Reno,” were so named because of the low odds we had of holding them. But Sgt. Reckless was relentless. Strapped with eight cannisters of ammo, weighing 192lbs., she got that ammo to where it needed to go. Wounded twice in the operation, Reckless never wavered, nor did she ever seem to tire. Once the ammo was delivered, she went straight to work carrying the wounded from the battlefield, and she did it with as much care as a Corpsman.
When we finally won the Battle of Nevada Cities, Reckless was awarded two Purple Hearts. Her dedication was an inspiration to our Marines, and they planned to celebrate her bravery once the war was over. And celebrate they did!
Reckless was promoted to Staff Sergeant and given a party at Camp Pendleton that is talked about even today. She was retired with honors and given a stable there on the base, where she was spoiled rotten with loving attention.
Reckless gave birth to three foals there at Camp Pendleton, the last being born in 1966, the same year Private Night Train Layne arrived at Camp Pendleton. The little colt and I had a lot in common, mainly, we didn’t know much, and loved to run. When I finally got some liberty, the first thing I did was to go for a run, and I remember running alongside a colt on the other side of a fence one afternoon, and smiling at the wild sense of freedom that was dancing in our blood. It most surely could have been one of Reckless’s three colts.
I never got to meet Sgt. Reckless, and only wish I had, now that I know her story. So I’ll close here and leave the last word to Kim, who put it so eloquently, “A little Mongolian mare, who started her career as a racehorse, has become the legacy of a true Marine. So let me say, Sgt. Reckless USMC – I salute you!”

Listen to the audio: https://anchor.fm/mcavoy-layne

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PINE NUTS A Step Back in Time
Of the 4,000 times I have had the pleasure of pretending to be Mark Twain, each is worth remembering, and a few are worth writing down for the grandkids. Then every once in a while, my memory is jogged to bring forth an evening that I had not thought about since the night it happened, several years ago now. And this happened yesterday when I stopped into Camp Richardson to see if any changes had been made in the past few years. As I walked into the lobby, a distant memory of an evening there drifted peacefully through my mind, and I had to smile.

Several years ago, my planned outdoor program there as Mark Twain was rained out, and moved into the lobby, where twenty basketball fans were watching an NBA playoff game. They were not happy, as they were asked by management to watch the game without sound, and they would have to listen to Mark Twain at the other end of the room. I, on the other hand, was pleased beyond measure, for being from Nevada, I had a little action on that game, and was suddenly able to watch it over the heads of my audience.

Well, it was a barn-burner of a game and went right down to the wire with a buzzer-beater to win it for my team, and as the final shot went through the hoop I could not contain myself, and shouted, “It’s good!” Of course I had to follow that with, “It’s good to be back to Camp Richardson, where life is easy.”

The basketball fans were quick to look around when I shouted, “It’s good!” And were smiling at the discovery that Mark Twain was a basketball fan. I remember I made more on the game that night than I did holding forth as Mark Twain in the lobby of Camp Richardson. Some days are diamonds.

How lucky to have 3,999 fond memories and only one not so fond. I remember we were at the Pony Express Pavilion on a very windy night, a Washoe Zephyr strong enough to blow empty chairs all the way to Mound House. A setting sun was also blinding an anemic audience that was painfully sparse. The County Fair was in full swing, and a huge monster truck was driving paying passengers on noisy joyrides ‘round and ‘round the pavilion. One could not hear oneself think, so the nice folks in the front row could neither hear nor see me. Had I been given a choice, it would have been a pistol or poison for me.

Mercifully, once my program came to a premature close, a sympathetic stranger offered to buy me a drink. We’ve been the best of friends ever since. Some days that start out to look like bear scat, turn out to be diamonds…

Listen to the audio: https://anchor.fm/mcavoy-layne