President Obama Visits Baltimore Muslim Mosque!


When I look at the whole Muslim question I have to ask, what is the difference between Middle Eastern Muslims and those born in America.

Ideology seems to be the driving force. I have seen some American Muslim groups calling for a Muslim Reformation. If there is nothing wrong, why a Reformation?

Lewis Farikan who is black Muslim American born and raise and his organization spew hate. Many Americans born and raised of Middle Eastern dissent, return to the Middle East to fight for Radical Islam.

Their apparent refusal to assimilate blatantly shows their intentions. But the President wants us to be tolerant and accept, a wait and see attitude.

We can see all the chaos in Europe and the President wants us to turn our heads the other way. Why does he think the American people are that stupid?

And there are many Liberals Americans smiling and willing to walk into the slaughter?

U.S. President Barack Obama waves farewell to students after his remarks at the Islamic Society of Baltimore mosque in Catonsville, Maryland February 3, 2016. REUTERS/Jonathan Ernst


I posted this on FaceBook and there is no response from Fackbook Friends to this Article. Have I been silenced  on this article?


Roger Sanchez@ Gunny’s Mail Call





Reducing My Internet Footprint!





It is March 24, 2015 and I have decided that this year I will get rid of all my personal blogs except one, and I will keep my Twitter and Facebook accounts. I have found that over the years I have spread myself out to thin to keep up and post to all the accounts I have.

Pretty much I have organized and intend to stay in contact with many acquaintances and friends I have made over the years.  I will write most of my long-winded rants on my “Gunny’s Mail Call” Blog, as well as continue with my Podcast there also.  By reducing my Internet footprint it will allow to have more time to keep up and concentrate my social media connections in a shorter amount of time.

So if you are wanting to stay in touch with me, you can find me right here at my “Gunny’s Mail Call” . Bookmark this page.


Wishing you all the Best!


Roger@Gunny’s Mail Call   

Brothers In Nam

001 (8)

Roger & Victor Sanchez, Chicago 1964


Fate or destiny, are words I think about often today, some forty-three years after my older brother and I, had left the Vietnam War behind.  My brother and I are exactly four years apart because we were born on the same day, four years apart.  He lives in Illinois and I in Oklahoma.   One thing I can say for sure, is that destiny sure kicked us around a lot.

My older brother was born in San Antonio Texas, and I in Waupun Wisconsin.  Our parents also hailed from San Antonio.  But when my brother and I were ages six and two, we ended up on the south side of Chicago.  There we would live our lives until the Vietnam War Broke out.

In our early years my brother and I being four years apart, had nothing in common.  Growing up he had his likes and friends, and I was the pesky little brother who was told to take a hike more than once.  We would go our separate ways, until fate stepped in and changed our lives forever.  We had no Idea that the Vietnam War would last long enough to see us both join the Marines, and be pulled into the war. It would be a war that would have a significant impact on American history.  It would be a war that split a nation, as did the Civil War.  Of course the Vietnam War split us only in ideology.

The war would bring my brother and me together in more ways than we could imagine.  My older brother was on his second tour of duty, when I landed in Vietnam in July of 1970 for my tour.  Again, fate stepped in, and my brother and I ran into each other at Da Nang Air Base, just before I was trucked out to my unit with Seventh Marines.   I was an infantry Marine, and my brother a Crew Chief in CH-46 helicopters.


Sgt V. Sanchez Jr. & Cpl R. Sanchez, Da Nang Air Base Vietnam, July 1870

Sgt V. Sanchez Jr. & Cpl R. Sanchez, Da Nang Air Base Vietnam, July 1970


I would see my brother twice with my unit in the field, as both those times it was his chopper that was re-supplying us.   Both times I signaled the chopper into the Landing zone, as my brother looked out the gunner’s door and spotted me.  As I ran onto the bird to unload supplies, we had a few minutes for a quick hug and a thumb’s up.  As the chopper lifted off, my brother stuck his head out the gunner’s door again and saluted, as I stood in the rotor wash in the LZ and returned his salute.  Both times I was asked, “Who was that”, and both times I replied with great pride, “That was my brother!”


Sgt V. Sanchez Jr USMC HMM 262, Vietnam, 1970


Cpl R. Sanchez USMC Vietnam 1970

Cpl R. Sanchez USMC
Vietnam 1970


My brother and I would make it out of Vietnam.  He after being shot down multiple times, and I, after being wounded in action twice.  We both ended up In Okinawa for a few months together before he rotated back to the States.  Our relationship from that point on again, had changed forever.  We were now not only brothers, but fellow Marines, and fellow combat veterans of the Vietnam War.  We would go our separate ways after the war, and not discuss the war with each other for over forty years.  But our respect towards each other was that of two fellow Marines, who had fought in a war that American history would rather bury than speak of.  It was a long and arduous road, and yet fate had seen us through.


Sgt. V. Sanchez Jr. USMC Okinawa, April 1970

Sgt. V. Sanchez Jr. USMC
Okinawa, April 1971


Cpl R. Sanchez USMC Okinawa April 1970

Cpl R. Sanchez USMC
Okinawa April 1971



 Roger A. Sanchez Sr. @ Gunny’s Mail Call.Com

A Warriors’ Dream


Quang Nam Province, I Corps, South Vietnam, July 1970


In deep slumber I lay many years after my war

An American Patriot who answered the call

My war was not the one fought for independence

Nor the one fought at San Antonio

Yes, it was not the one to end all wars

Nor was it the big one where freedom hung by a thread


I was not at the Chosen Reservoir in Korea

So many had gone before me to stand for freedom

But not any freedom, but American freedom

It is an Ideal and type that many seek

Is was an ideal born of right spirit

The land of the free, the home of the brave


In dreams I still walk the rice paddies of Vietnam

My squad walks behind me spread out and watchful

I do not see them as clear as I once did

We are walking in a fog that sweeps in from nowhere

It is cold and wet and voices seems to emanate from it

It is the voices of those gone before looking for the sunlight


And yet from this dream I understood that freedom is not free

There is no true sunlight in war, or full days of rest

There is no let up against evil that lust for power and domination

A horrible truth I had learned at such a young age

That evil force, must be met with righteous force

While I wish with all my soul for only peace

I understood that it would never truly be


I wake up in a cold sweat and yell out into the darkness

My conscious mind slowly brings me back

And I think clearly, Iraq, Afghanistan, other wars in between

I see the faces of our young men and women

And in sadness I realize, we are still at war


GySgt Roger A Sanchez Sr.
USMC Retired
Copyright © June 2014, All Rights Reserved

Remembering Normandy

Photo from Wkipedia Commons

Photo from Wikimedia Commons


Today June 6, 2014 many nations are paying tribute to those who landed on the beaches of Normandy France.  It was one of the biggest battles of World War Two, as American and ally forces continued the battle for democracy and freedom.

We have lost many of those who were there on that day to the marching on of time.  To those of us who have lived our lives in free nations, able to voice our opinions and pursue lives filled with freedom of choice, the debt can never be repaid.

Mostly remembered by those they served with and family members, we should all make an effort as we think of freedom, to remember those who have served and gave their all for us.  God bless them, their families, and the sacrifices they have made.  


By Roger A. Sanchez Sr. @ Gunny’s Mail Call 



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