Because this is a Federal Government Installation, arrangements must be made in order to gain access to the golf course. Please contact a golf course staff member at number above for more information.
Because this is a Federal Government Installation, arrangements must be made in order to gain access to the golf course. Please contact a golf course staff member at number above for more information.
Because this is a Federal Government Installation, arrangements must be made in order to gain access to the golf course. Please contact a golf course staff member at number above for more information.
Because this is a Federal Government Installation, arrangements must be made in order to gain access to the golf course. Please contact a golf course staff member at number above for more information.
The Medal of Honor Golf Course, originally called The Officers’ Club Golf Course, began in 1930 as a six-hole layout, most likely built by Marine Corps construction personnel. The course grew to 9-holes, with two tee boxes on each hole, around 1934. The course expanded again to 18-holes in the mid-1940s and became known as the Quantico Golf Course. This growth was led by Ernest Stanley, who was the Golf Course Superintendent from 1933 to 1976. In 1980, the Quantico Golf Course was renamed the Medal of Honor Golf Course in honor of Marines who have earned the nation’s highest medal for valor.
The MOH Golf Course proudly offers year-round golf on our 18-hole championship golf course. Customers can also enjoy our Swing Lab training facility, lighted driving range, practice putting green, and Pro-Shop. The beautiful grounds and course clubhouse provide the perfect venue for daily golf as well as outings and private functions. The course is open year-round to Active Duty and Retired Military, DoD civilian employees, family members, FBI Academy, National Guard and Reserve personnel, as well as the public.
My buddy Frank turned 55 last spring. The day after his birthday, he walked into our regular Thursday foursome, dropped his bag on the cart, and announced-with the gravity of a man who’d just discovered fire-that he was now officially a “senior golfer.”
“You know what that means?” he asked, eyes gleaming.
I figured he was about to complain about his knees or mention something about fiber. But no. Frank had done his homework.
“I played Stony Creek yesterday. Paid $23 with cart. Twenty-three dollars.” He paused for effect. “The kid behind the counter didn’t even card me.”
