The American Diplomat Responsible for the Pacific War

Introduction

Walk softly but carry a big stick is a South African axiom most often attributed to former President Theodore Roosevelt.  I find no fault in this adage because I believe that a quiet voice is more respected than a loud bully tone, and when reinforced by a no-nonsense foreign policy, the world becomes much safer for everyone.  The saying, along with President Washington’s sage advice —beware of foreign entanglements — should be the foundation of American foreign policy, but that has not been our diplomatic history.  We are forever involving the American people in foreign affairs that are really none of our business.

Over many years, I have developed a low opinion of diplomats, generally, because their fatuousness has cost the American people dearly in material wealth and the loss of loved-ones.  And, or so it seems, US diplomats never seems to learn any worthwhile lessons from the past.  Worse, diplomats never answer for their ghastly mistakes.  If it is true that military intervention is the product of failed diplomacy, then all one has to do to reach my conclusions (about American diplomacy) is count the number of our country’s wars.

There is no reason to maintain a strong, technologically superior force structure if we never intend to use it.  The decision to employ our military is, of course, a political question.  Once the question has been answered, the military’s civilian masters should step back, out of the way, and allow the military to achieve our national objectives — which hopefully have something to do with national defense.  If the American people must give up a single soldier or sailor to military action, then the United States should walk away from the conflict with something to show for having made that sacrifice.  This has not been case in every conflict.

Background

On 3 July 1853, US warships under the command of Commodore Matthew C. Perry sailed into Tokyo Harbor; their arrival threw the Empire of Japan into turmoil.  The purpose of Perry’s visit was to end Japan’s long practiced isolationist policies.  The Tokugawa Shogunate (government) initially had no interest in meeting with Commodore Perry, but a modest demonstration of the U. S. Navy’s firepower convinced the Japanese that it could be in their national interests to at least hear what the Americans had to say.  Negotiations were proceeding well enough, after a rough beginning, but before they could be concluded, the Shogun (generalissimo), Tokugawa Ieyoshi, died of a stroke.  Whether Commodore Perry’s unexpected visit contributed to Ieyoshi’s death is unknown, but he was soon replaced by his physically weak son Iesada[1].

Soon after Perry’s agreement with the Shogunate to open its ports to American ships for purposes of reprovisioning ships and trade, Great Britain, Russia, and other European powers imposed their own treaties upon the Japanese.  Since Iesada was physically unable to participate in negotiations with foreigners, the task was assigned to the rōjū (elder[2]) Abe Masahiro.  Rather than participate in this national embarrassment, Masahiro also resigned, replaced by Hotta Masayoshi.  Masayoshi was responsible for the treaties negotiated with the United States, United Kingdom, and Russia — collectively known as the “unequal treaties.”

These treaties were regarded as unequal because they stipulated that Japan must allow foreign citizens to visit and reside in Japan, because they prohibited the Japanese from imposing tariffs on imported goods, and because the treaties exempted foreigners from the jurisdiction of Japanese justice courts. When senior samurai became aware of these unequal treaties, radically nationalist/anti-foreign disturbances erupted throughout Japan.  In a short time, the entire nation was wracked with unrest.

If this mischief wasn’t enough, between 4-7 November 1854, the Nankaido earthquakes and tsunamis killed 80,000 Japanese.  This horrific incident was followed by the Tokai earthquake on 23 December with destruction from Edo (Tokyo) to Tokai — a distance of 210 miles, killing an additional 10,000 people.  These were natural occurrences, of course, but superstitious samurai leaders viewed them as a demonstration of the gods’ displeasure with the Shogunate.  Meanwhile, on 14 August 1858, Iesada died from Cholera.  His replacement was Tokugawa Iemochi — who at the time was twelve years old.  Meanwhile, rōjū Masayoshi continued to run the show.

Iemochi died in 1866; he was 22 years old.  His son, 3-year-old Tokugawa Iesato was next in line to become Shogun.  The nation was in crisis and needed adult leadership.  For this reason, the rōjū bypassed Iesato and chose Tokugawa Yoshinobu to serve as Shogun.  Yoshinobu was the fifteenth and last Tokugawa shogun (and the only Tokugawa that never entered Edo Castle).  With civil unrest unraveling the country, Yoshinobu too resigned his office and retired to the countryside.  At that point, the Japanese had emptied out their closet of potential leaders.  In that year, 1868, radical samurai convinced the 15-year old Emperor Meiji to end the Tokugawa shogunate and assume power in his own right.  It is referred to in history as the Meiji Restoration.

The royal family moved from the traditional home of the Emperor in Kyoto (Western Gate) to Edo and changed its name to Tokyo (Eastern Gate).  While the Emperor was restored to political power and assumed nominal power, the most powerful men in Japan were the Meiji oligarchs, senior samurai from Chōshū and Satsuma provinces.

The Meiji Oligarchs wanted Japan to become a modern nation-state — one technologically equal to the western nations that had caused so much civil unrest in Japan.  The oligarchs included such men as Okubo Toshimichi and Saigo Takamori (of the Satsuma Clan) and Kido Takayoshi, Ito Hirobumi, and Yamagata Aritomo from Chōshū.  Among the emperor’s first edicts was the abolishment of the old Edo class structure.  The great lords of Japan and all of their feudal domains became provinces with governors who answered to the emperor.  After this, the Japanese government began the process of modernization.  In less than ten years, the Meiji government confronted another internal upheaval, known as the Satsuma Rebellion, a revolt of disaffected samurai against the modernization efforts of the Emperor Meiji.  Change is never easy.

Chinese Diplomacy

On 12 March 1867, the American merchant ship Rover, while en route from Swatow, China to Newchwang, struck a submerged reef off the coast of Formosa, (also, Taiwan) near the modern-day city of Hengchun.  The ship’s captain, Joseph Hunt, his wife Mercy, and twelve surviving crewman made it to shore only to be massacred by Paiwan natives, the aboriginal people of Formosa.  The Paiwan were fiercely protective of their land and this violent behavior was a revenge killing for earlier depredations by foreign sailors.

When the United States Minister to China, Anson Burlingame, learned of the incident, he ordered his subordinate serving closest to Formosa to investigate.  Burlingame’s subordinate was Charles Guillaum Joseph Émile LeGendre (1830-1899), who served as Consul General in Fujian Province of the Qing Empire.  As Consul General, Legendre was responsible for matters involving United States interests in and around five treaty ports facilitating US trade with China.  LeGendre took an interest in and helped to suppress the illegal trade in coolies (peasant workers) and indentured laborers working on American-flagged ships.  LeGendre was known as a compassionate man.

LeGendre, who was born and raised in France, had the good fortune to marry a woman whose father was an influential New York lawyer.  Through this marriage, LeGendre migrated to the United States and took up residence in the City of New York.

Charles LeGendre 1864

At the outbreak of the American Civil War, 31-year old LeGendre helped recruit young men for service with the 51st New York Volunteer Infantry Regiment.  His recruiting success earned him a commission as a major in the US volunteers.  During the war, LeGendre fought with distinction in several campaigns, was twice wounded, and eventually retired from military service.  In recognition of his courage under fire, the US volunteer army discharged him as a brevet brigadier general.  LeGendre, despite his physical wounds, was an ambitious man.  In 1866, President Andrew Johnson appointed LeGendre to serve as Consul General in China.

In compliance with his instructions to investigate the Rover Incident, LeGendre traveled to Fukien and Chekiang for the purpose of petitioning the Chinese governors-general for their assistance in obtaining guarantees for the safety of American sailors shipwrecked off the coast of China.  The governor-general of Fujian had a better idea — rather than taking direct action himself, he granted LeGendre permission to travel to Formosa and plead his case directly to the island’s governor-general[3].  Action passed (to others) is action complete — Time Management 101.

LeGendre soon learned that the Paiwan natives were barbaric and hostile to all foreigners.  During his investigation, he also learned about the Chinese shuffle, which was how Chinese officials avoided responsibility for unseemly events transpiring within their areas of authority.  The Chinese governor of Formosa actually did not control much of the island — only the small western plain; the Paiwan natives controlled the entire southern region.

When LeGendre’s efforts on Formosa failed[4] the United States government decided to mount a military punitive expedition against the Paiwan natives.  Responsibility for conducting this expedition fell to Rear Admiral Henry Bell, US Navy.  A force of sailors and Marines were organized under Commander George E. Belknap, USN with Lieutenant Commander Alexander S.  MacKenzie serving as executive officer.  Captain James Forney, USMC commanded 31 Marines from USS Hartford, and 12 Marines from USS Wyoming.

Several problems hindered the Belknap Expedition from its beginning.  First, the force was too small for operations in such a large area.  Next, the men were not accustomed to the high humidity of Taiwan and heat exhaustion overwhelmed them as they hacked their way into the dense jungle.  Because the thick foliage easily concealed the island’s hostile defenders, Belknap’s men became sitting ducks for vicious attacks.  When the Paiwan natives opened fire for the first time, LCdr MacKenzie was one of several Americans instantly killed.  Commander Belknap ordered his force to withdraw, and the so-called punitive expedition ended.  Captain Forney’s journal eventually found its way back to HQ Marine Corps where it was later incorporated into what eventually became the Marine Corps Small Wars Manual[5].  This may have been the expedition’s only positive note.

Upon LeGendre’s return to South China, he persuaded the governor of Foochow to send a large military expedition to Formosa.  LeGendre recommended a force of 400-500 men, but the governor reasoned that he could achieve his goals with fewer men.  The Chinese expedition departed for Formosa in July 1867.  Admiral Bell denied LeGendre’s request for a gunboat to assist in the Chinese expedition, so LeGendre chartered SS Volunteer and made his way to Formosa, informing Burlingame that he intended to observe the action.  Upon arrival, however, LeGendre assumed command of the Chinese force.  How he accomplished this is unknown.  What made the Chinese expedition difficult was that the Chinese had to first construct a road into the interior.  Ultimately, LeGendre turned to British diplomat William A. Pickering[6] to help broker a treaty with the Paiwan natives for the protection of American and European shipwrecked sailors.

In early September 1871, a merchant ship from the Ryukyu Islands[7] (present-day Okinawa) was wrecked off the coast of Formosa.  Paiwan natives, as they had with the Rover, massacred the ship’s surviving 54 crewmen.  The treaty brokered by LeGendre and Pickering only applied to shipwrecked Americans and Europeans, not to other Asians.  In February 1872, LeGendre (believing that the Ryukyu Islands belonged to Japan — see note 7) returned to Formosa and attempted to have the earlier treaty extended to include shipwrecked Japanese sailors.  LeGendre’s mission failed once more when the Paiwan natives refused to extend the treaty.  LeGendre’s meddling upset the Chinese government, and this placed LeGendre at odds with his superior.  Minister Burlingame ordered LeGendre to return to the United States.  In December 1872, while en route to the United States, LeGendre stopped off at Yokohama, Japan (a treaty port in Tokyo Bay, south of Tokyo).

Toward Japanese Imperialism

While in Yokohama, LeGendre met with Charles DeLong, the United States Minister to Japan.  It may be remembered, by some, that DeLong was the diplomat who first announced to the Japanese government that the United States was pleased to recognize Japanese sovereignty over the Ryukyu Islands (Okinawa) – an interesting revelation for two reasons: first, because insofar as the Chinese were concerned, the Ryukyu Islands was a sovereign territory of China; second, because it provides some clarity about the ineptness of the US Diplomatic Corps — which unhappily continues to plague the US State Department.

Minister DeLong introduced Charles LeGendre to Japan’s foreign minister, Soejima Taneomi[8]There could not have been a more portentous meeting in the early days of the Meiji Era because it was this former Army brigadier turned diplomat who, having been hired by the Meiji government as an advisor to the foreign ministry, first gave the Japanese government the idea that it had a moral responsibility to expand its empire through colonization.  Japanese expansionism ultimately led to war with China (1894, 1931, 1937), with Russia (1904), Korea (1910), and with the United Kingdom and United States (1941).

LeGendre’s involvement in the Rover Affair and the issue of the shipwrecked Ryukyu ship interested Soejima.  As Soejima’s hired advisor, LeGendre provided a wealth of information about Formosa’s Paiwan natives, the geography of the island, the difficulty of two military expeditions, and likely, LeGendre’s own view about how Chinese officials reacted to both incidents.  Minister Soejima subsequently organized a diplomatic mission to China, which included LeGendre, which took place in 1873.  Soejima’s first achievement was that he was able to meet personally with the Qing Emperor, Emperor Tongzhi.  As it turned out, meeting with China’s Emperor was Soejima’s only success.

The Qing Emperor emphasized to Soejima that the 1871 incident was an internal matter, emphasizing that it was of no concern to the Japanese because Formosa was part of China’s Fujian Province.  Moreover, insofar as the Ryukyu sailors were concerned, the Ryukyu Kingdom was a vassal state of China.  Wisely ignoring China’s assertion that Formosa and the Ryukyu Island were Chinese territories, Minister Soejima argued that several of  the crewmen were Japanese from Okayama Province.  He suggested that it would be proper for China to pay a just compensation for the death of the Japanese sailors.  When the meeting ended, Tongzhi rejected Soejima’s request for compensation because, he said, the Paiwan natives were beyond the control of Chinese officials.

Tongzhi had said too much.  His claim that China exercised no control of the Paiwan natives opened the door for the Meiji government to take other actions.  Both LeGendre and a French legal advisor Gustave Émile Boissonade de Fontarabie[9] urged Japan to initiate a military response.  Once again, LeGendre proved useful to Soejima in formulating plans for a Japanese military punitive operation.  The Japanese hired two additional Americans as advisors to the Japanese foreign ministry: James Wasson[10] and Douglas Cassel[11].  US Minister John Bingham, who had replaced DeLong, objected to both Wasson and Cassel because he felt that their involvement with the Japanese government would violate American neutrality and place the United States in a difficult position with other Asian nations.

Between 1866-73, Japan was faced with several natural disasters and civil upheavals.  Emperor Meiji was hesitant to authorize a military expedition to Formosa.  Meiji also discarded Soejima’s suggestion for a Japanese invasion of Korea.  Soejima promptly resigned his office.

Owing to Japan’s internal difficulties, Meiji delayed the Formosa expedition until 1874.  Japan’s prime minister assigned the expedition to Saigō Tsugumichi.  His publicly announced mission was three-fold: (1) ascertain the facts surrounding the violence committed against Japan’s countrymen; (2) punish the wrong-doers, and (3) ensure that such violence would not reoccur.

The Prime Minister’s private instructions to Saigō were more specific.  After discovering the facts of the matter, Saigō must first consider employing peaceful means to lead “the natives toward civilization.”  He must try “to establish a profitable enterprise.”  If these measures fail, only then was Saigō authorized to use punishing force against them.  Note: it is one thing to translate the Japanese language into English, but quite another to establish clever nuance from those words.  Historians specializing in such matters suggest that Saigō’s instructions were very likely influenced by Charles LeGendre.

Within the historic context of the Taiwan affair, we discover (not for the first time) Japan’s interest in broader objectives: imperial expansionism and establishing a regional influence in East Asia.  The Meiji government’s expedition to Taiwan was a “re-start” of Japanese expansionism[12] — this time, however, adapted to America’s quest for manifest destiny (which the Japanese later called their Greater East Asia Co-Prosperity Sphere (1931)).  Historians again claim that LeGendre’s fingerprints are all over Japan’s expansionistic long-term modernization plan.  The expedition proceeded despite objections by UK and US ministers.

The invasion began on 6 May, led by Douglas Cassel to select a beachhead. Four days later, Japanese troops went ashore.  On 15 May, Cassel petitioned the head of the Island’s sixteen southern tribes to hear Saigō’s proposals.  The Paiwan chieftain, named Issa, identified the Island’s Botan tribe as the trouble-makers and, since the Botan people were out of his control, granted his permission for the Japanese to punish them.

Whether Issa was playing fast and loose with the Japanese is unknown.  What is known is that a series of confrontations evolved with casualties on both sides — and so it went until July when an outbreak of malaria wrecked the Japanese expeditionary force.  Ultimately, the Japanese agreed to withdraw from Taiwan after the Chinese government agreed to pay Japan an indemnity amounting to around 18.7 tonnes of  silver.  In total, the Japanese lost 12 men killed in action, 30 men wounded, and 560 dead due to disease.  Both Wasson and Cassel came down with malaria, as well.  Cassel was returned to his home in Ohio where he died from the disease nine months later.

Some historians claim that Japan’s invasion was a failure; other say that given China’s indemnity, it was an unparalleled success.  The latter claim appears valid for several reasons.  First, when China attempted to subdue the Paiwan natives in 1875, the natives defeated the Chinese, and this sent a signal to the Japanese that China was unable to exert its control over areas claimed as part of their empire.  Second, Japan supplanted Chinese influence in the Ryukyu Islands.  Third, China acknowledged Japan’s claim of seeking only to “civilize” barbarian societies — for the greater good of all mankind, and the Japanese were emboldened to exert their influence throughout the Far East region.   

The Meiji government demonstrated its focused interest in learning about western thought, not only by hiring foreign advisors to guide government functionaries, but also by the fact that at one time, nearly every Meiji cabinet official went abroad to study the Americans, English, Dutch, and Germans.  Within two decades, one will discover that the Imperial Japanese Navy was modeled almost exclusively on the British Royal Navy, and the Imperial Japanese Army modeled on Imperial Germany.

From the time when Soejima hired LeGendre in 1872, the Japanese wasted no time employing westerners to help modernize Japan and expand its influence throughout the Far East.  Japanese officials exchanged volumes of correspondence relating to “western thought” and sharing their analyses of information collected by Japanese spies dispatched throughout the United States and Europe.  At no time did the Japanese take their eye off the prize: implementing their own form of manifest destiny.  Charles LeGendre was part of this correspondence group — and we know this because his letters remain available to researchers through primary and secondary sources.

LeGendre’s papers offer several insights into the long-term objectives of Meiji Japan.  The Japanese challenged China’s claim of sovereignty over Taiwan and Okinawa — which they did most effectively, particularly with China’s help.  China’s claims and diplomatic arguments were at best ambiguous and at all times beyond their ability to reinforce with military power.  Secondly, the Japanese sought to impress the western powers and establish their diplomatic bona fides among them, which they accomplished by hiring western advisors, paying them a fortune for their services, and flattering them with prestigious awards.  Japan had begun to negotiate treaties and relationships based on western logic — which the western power fully understood.

The issue of sovereignty over Taiwan and Okinawa demonstrate the differences in how China and Japan addressed the challenges of western imperialism.  The Japanese gave the impression of fully incorporating western influence but limited foreign presence in Japan; the Chinese persistently resisted the foreign devils who took what they wanted anyway.  Japan became an ally; China was always the antagonist — even though both countries relied to some extent on foreign employees/advisors to modernize their military forces.

The foreign advisors in both countries belonged to a small club; they all knew each other, shared information about their clients without qualm, and nearly all of them were in some way associated with treaty ports in both China and Japan.

We must therefore recognize the efforts of Charles LeGendre — at least to some degree — for Japan’s developing interests in Taiwan and Okinawa and the beginning of an ever-widening interest by the Japanese in all of East Asia[13].  Accordingly, or at least I so believe, the American brigadier-turned-diplomat Charles LeGendre was at least indirectly responsible for Japan’s aggressive behavior over the following fifty years.  He preached colonialism to the Japanese, and they accepted it and adapted it to their own purposes.  “Leading the natives to civilization” thereafter became a Japanese codeword for Imperial domination and it could not have been tendered at a better time in Japan’s long history.

Subsequently, the United States lost its corporate memory of Charles LeGendre — but what he accomplished while in the employ of the Japanese government had a lasting impact on US-Japanese relations through 1945.  By extension, we might also note that LeGendre was indirectly responsible for 8.4 million deaths in the Pacific Theater of Operations during World War II.

Conclusion

Charles Guillaum Joseph Émile LeGendre may have been a compassionate man.  His motivation to involve himself as an advisor to the Japanese Imperial government may have been well-intentioned.  The result, however, was disastrous for well-over 8 million people.  Compassion, without a healthy dose of reality, more often than not leads to great sorrow.  America’s diplomatic corps has never learned this worthwhile lesson.

Sources:

  1. Bender, A., and others.  Taiwan.  Lonely Planet Publishers, 2004.
  2. Fix, D. L. and John Shufelt.  Charles W. LeGendre: Notes of Travel in Formosa.  London: Cambridge Press, 2013.
  3. Tartling, N.  A Sudden Rampage: The Japanese Occupation of Southeast Asia, 1941-1945.  Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press, 2001.

Endnotes:

[1] Historians think he may have suffered from cerebral palsy.

[2] The elder of the shogunate was ranked just below the Shogun in power and prestige.

[3] Chinese officials were not known for have a great deal of patience with foreign envoys.  In granting LeGendre permission to proceed to Formosa, it might have been that the governor-general of Fujian hoped the American would receive a similar fate.  In those days, the Formosans were as easy to get along with as Texas Comanches.

[4] As the governor-general of Fujian likely suspected it would.

[5] The Small Wars Manual provided information and guidance on tactics and strategies for engaging certain types of military operations.

[6] Pickering had served for ten years in Hong Kong as Chinese Maritime Customs Supervisor.  He spoke many Chinese dialects and was very useful in dealing with obstinate Chinese officials.

[7] The Ryukyu Kingdom was a tributary state of China.  The location of the islands made the kingdom an important location for maritime trade between East Asia and Southeast Asia.  What made the Ryukyu Island kingdom unusual was that both China and Japan considered the Ryukyu king a vassal to their empires.

[8] Soejima was a student of the English language and a scholar who focused on the United States Constitution and the New Testament.  During the Boshin War, he was a military leader who was committed to the overthrow of the Tokugawa Shogunate and restoration of Imperial rule in Japan.  Soejima was the lead negotiator in the mission to Beijing to protest the murder of 54 crewmen of a Ryukyuan merchant ship by Paiwan (Formosan) aborigines. 

[9] Fontarabie was responsible for drafting most of Japan’s legal codes during the Meiji Era.

[10] James Wasson was a Civil War veteran who later obtained an appointment to the USMA.  Graduating in 1871, and having established a close friendship with Frederick Grant, the President’s son, Wasson was appointed to serve as a secretary to the American Diplomatic Legation in Japan, 1871-72.  After serving in this capacity, he returned to the United States to resign his commission and then accepted the employment in Japan as a surveyor.  In 1874, Japan commissioned Wasson a colonel of engineers and in this capacity, he participated in Japan’s invasion of Taiwan.

[11] Douglas Cassel was a veteran naval officer who, while serving on active duty with the Asiatic Squadron, was granted a  leave of absence to serve as a  naval advisor to the Meiji government.  Cassel, as it turned out, was an abrasive man who found much fault with the Japanese and did not hesitate to express his misgivings over the Japanese inability to relinquish their samurai ways and adopted a more modern approach to naval warfare.

[12] In 1592, the Japanese samurai and daimyo Toyotomi Hideyoshi — regarded as the second great unifier of Japan, led an expedition to the Korean Peninsula with the intent of conquering the Korean people.  This expedition involved two separate wars.  The first begun in 1592 (the Imjin Disturbance), a truce in 1596, and in 1597 (the Chongyu War).  The contest ended in a stalemate and the Japanese forces were withdrawn in 1598.

[13] In his lengthy negotiations with Chinese authorities over the Rover Incident LeGendre urged the Chinese to assume responsibility for civilizing the Paiwan natives.  LeGendre believed that China’s failure to assume the undertaking would lay the groundwork for any other civilized country to civilize these barbarians.  I cannot say whether LeGendre was a cynic or simply idealistic, but it would appear that he believed that the Paiwan natives deserved someone to bring them into the light — and if the Chinese wouldn’t do it, then perhaps the Japanese should.


At the Heart of the Corps

On Land and Sea

An Overview

Before the American Revolution, the thirteen British Colonies experienced few difficulties in matters of commercial navigation because all commercial shipping was protected by the Royal Navy, at the time the strongest navy in the world.  This invaluable protection came to an end when the colonies rebelled.  After the Revolution, the United States (having achieved its independence), would have to fend for itself.  That, of course, was easier said than done.  It would take the newly created country several decades to sort it all out.

The revolution threw the United States deeply into debt.  Complicating those matters was the fact that the United States was operating under the Articles of Confederation.[1]  In 1783, the cash-strapped congress disbanded the Continental Army, Navy, and Marine Corps.

Three hundred years before the United States won its independence, the Barbary Coast states (Tripoli, Algiers, Morocco, and Tunis) began preying upon European ships.  The method used by the Mohammedan pirates was simple enough.  Cruising the Mediterranean in small but fast ships, pirates overtook merchant ships, boarded them, overpowered the crew, captured crew and passengers, and held them as prisoners until either their home country paid a ransom demand, or until the captives were sold into slavery.  To avoid these difficulties, most European states reasoned that in the long-term, it would be cheaper to pay the Barbary states an annual tribute, guaranteeing free passage through the Mediterranean Sea.

Barbary pirates seized their first American-flagged ship, the merchantman Betsey, in 1785.  The crew of that ship languished in irons for eight years.  The Maria, home ported in Boston, was taken a few months later.  Dauphin, from Philadelphia was next.  Ship owners complained, of course, but there being no money for a naval force, there was nothing congress or the states could do about the Barbary Pirates.  Between 1785 and 1793, 13 American ships were lost to the Mediterranean pirates.  In 1793 alone, the Mohammedans seized eleven ships.  To America’s shame, Congress agreed to pay the pirates tribute, and, at that point, the camel’s nose was under the tent.  The amount of tribute increased with each passing year.  In 1792, the United States paid ransoms totaling $40,000.00, and paid a tribute of $25,000.

Historians estimate that between the early-to-mid 1500s through 1800, Moslem pirates captured over one million white Christians from France, Italy, Spain, Holland, Great Britain, Iceland, and the Americas.  Released crew and passengers recounted horrifying tales of their inhumane treatment, but even if some of these stories were exaggerated, they weren’t very far off the mark.  The Berbers made no distinction between passengers or crew, or whether they were male or female.  All captives were stripped of their clothing, robbed of all their possessions, and imprisoned awaiting ransom or enslavement.  Women were repeatedly raped — which under Islamic law, was permitted and encouraged.  Most captives languished in prison filth for years; many died in captivity.  The only possible respite available to those luckless captives was to convert to Islam.  Many of the converted sailors joined the corsairs as raiders.

In modern parlance, Barbary pirates carried out state-sponsored terrorism.  It was an extortion racket, pure and simple, and every North African state was complicit.  How the extortionists made their living was not entirely unusual and European heads of state well-understood the game.  British, French, and Spanish privateers pursued a similar (albeit, more civilized) course of action.  Insofar as the Europeans were concerned, paying tribute was merely the cost of doing business in the Mediterranean.  Tribute costs increased as a matter of course whenever a new ruler assumed power.  What made this a complication is that the voyage from Philadelphia to Tripoli took around six weeks.  An increase in tribute between the time a ship left the United States and its arrival in North Africa would involve an additional twelve (or more) weeks sailing time.

Global Conflict and American Diplomacy

Barbary Pirates were not the United States’ only concern.  The outbreak of war between France and Great Britain (and other countries) in 1793 ended the ten years of peace that enabled the United States to develop a system of national finance and trade.  Ship building and commercial shipping were America’s largest industries in 1793.

From the British perspective, improved relations with the United States was most desirable, particularly in terms of the UK’s attempt to deny France access to American goods.  From the American point of view, it would be most beneficial to normalize relations with the British because in doing so, the US would be in a better position to resolve unsettled issues from the 1783 Treaty of Paris.  This is not how things worked out, however.

President Washington

In mid-1793, Britain announced its intention to seize any ships trading with the French, including those flying the American flag.  In protest, widespread civil disorder erupted in several American cities and by the end of the following year, tensions with Britain were so high that President Washington ordered the suspension of trade to European ports.  But, at the same time, Washington sent an envoy to England in an attempt to reconcile differences with the United Kingdom.  Britain’s behavior, meanwhile, particularly given its earlier preference for good relations with the United States, was perplexing.  The British began the construction of a fortress in Ohio, sold guns and ammunition to the Indians, and urged them to attack American western settlements.

President Washington’s strongest inclination, as a response to British provocations, was to seek a diplomatic solution.  Unhappily, Washington’s envoy to England, John Jay, negotiated a weak treaty that undermined America’s preference for free trade on the high seas and, moreover, the treaty failed to compensate American shippers for loss of cargo seized by the Royal Navy during the revolution.  Worse than that, however, the Jay Treaty did not address the British practice of impressment.  Given the fact that there were several favorable aspects to the Jay Treaty, the US Senate approved it with one caveat: trade barriers imposed by the UK must be rescinded.

Mr. Washington, while dissatisfied with the Jay Treaty, nevertheless signed it.  Doing so brought the President his first public criticism and helped set into motion political partisanship within the Congress, toward the administration, and popularly directed at both.[2]  It was also in 1794 that the President and Congress had finally reached the limits of their patience with the Islamic barbarians.

President Washington asked Congress to reestablish a naval force and for authorization to construct six new warships.  Clearly, there was no reason to build six warships if the United States didn’t intend to use them.  Mr. Washington’s message to Congress was unambiguous: “If we desire to avoid insult, we must be able to repel it.  If we desire to secure peace, it must be known that we are at all times ready for war.”

The Naval Act of 1794 authorized the construction of six warships at a total cost of just under $700,000.  It was not a unanimous decision; some members of Congress believed that the money could be better spent elsewhere — such as in westward expansion.  The navy hawks won that argument.  Along with six new ships, the navy began to appoint offers to command those ships and recruit the men who would crew them.  And one more thing — the Navy would require United States Marines as well.

It took time to build the ships, reform the naval service, and hire the right men as captains.  Meanwhile, in 1796, the United States concluded a peace treaty with Algiers.  The United States paid $642,500 cash, up front, and agreed to a healthy annual tribute and assorted naval stores.  The total cost to the United States for this one treaty was $992,463.  In modern value, this would amount of well over $14-million.  By way of comparison, the entire federal budget for 1796 was $5.7 million.

The Jay Treaty was not well received in France because in 1778, the United States signed an agreement with King Louis XVI of France — termed the Franco-American treaty of Alliance — where, in exchange for French support for the American Revolution, the United States agreed to protect French colonial interests in the Caribbean.  The Alliance had no expiry date.

The French Revolution began in 1789.  By 1791, the crowned heads of Europe watched developments in France with deep concerns.  Several crowned heads proposed military intervention as a means of putting an end to the chaos and the terror.  The War of the First Coalition (1792-1797) involved several European powers against the Constitutional Kingdom of France (later the French Republic) — a loose coalition, to be sure, and a conflict fought without much coordination or agreement.  The one commonality in the coalition was that everyone had an eye on a different part of France should they eventually divide the country among them.

France looked upon the United States as its ally, pursuant to the Alliance of 1778, but there were several contentious issues:

  • First, the Americans strenuously objected to the execution of King Louis XVI in 1793.
  • Second, the Senate ratified the Jay Treaty (Treaty of Amity, Commerce, and Navigation).
  • Third, the United States passed the Neutrality Act of 1794.  The Act forbid any American to engage in war with any nation at peace with the United States.  Hence, no American could side with France against the British.
  • Fourth, the Neutrality Act cancelled the United States’ war debt to France.  Members of Congress reasoned that since America’s debt agreement existed between the United States and the King of France, the king’s execution cancelled America’s debt  Adding insult to injury, the Act also ended the Alliance of 1778.
  • Fifth, in retribution for reneging on the Alliance of 1778, the French Navy began seizing American ships engaged in trade with the UK — both as part of its war with the First Coalition, and as a means of collecting America’s revolutionary war debt.
  • Sixth, there was the so-called XYZ affair.[3]  With Diplomatic relations already at an all-time low between these two countries and owing to the fact that the United States had no naval defense, the French expanded their aggressive policy of attacking US commercial ships in American waters.

Re-birth of the United States Navy and Marine Corps

Without an American Navy, there could be no American response to French or Barbary depredations on the high seas.  Driven by Thomas Jefferson’s objections to federal institutions, Congress sold the last Continental warship in 1785.  All the United States had remaining afloat was a small flotilla belonging to the US Revenue Cutter Service; its only coastal defense was a few small and much neglected forts.  As a result, French privateers roamed American coastal waters virtually unchecked.  Between 1796-97, French privateers captured 316 American ships — roughly 6% of the entire US merchant fleet.  The cost to the United States was between $12-15 million.

USS Constitution

What the French accomplished through their program of retribution was to convince Federalists that the United States needed a Navy.  In total, Congress authorized the construction of eight ships, including USS United States, USS Constellation, USS Constitution, USS Congress, USS Chesapeake, USS President, USS General Greene, and USS Adams.  Congress additionally authorized “subscription ships.”  These were ships supported (paid for) by American cities.  The ships included five frigates[4] and four sloops[5], which were converted from commercial ships. Two noteworthy of these was USS Philadelphia and USS Boston.

In finally realizing that national honor demanded action, Congress re-established the U. S. Navy and along with it, the United States Marine Corps — as before, during the Revolutionary War, providing seagoing detachments became the Corps’ primary mission.  Serving aboard ship as naval infantry is the Marine Corps’ oldest duty.[6]  Americans didn’t invent this duty; it’s been around for about 2,500 years — all the way back to when the Greeks placed archers aboard ship to raise hell with the crews of enemy ships. 

The Marines had several missions while at sea.  During the 18th and 19th centuries, ship’s crews were often surly and undisciplined, and mutiny was always a possibility.  With armed Marines aboard, the chance of mutiny dropped to near zero.  Marines not only enforced navy regulations and the captain’s orders, but they also meted out punishments awarded to the crew when required.  In those days, there were no close-knit feelings between sailors and Marines — which has become an abiding naval tradition.

Marines led naval boarding parties … a tactic employed to invade and overrun enemy officers and crews in order to capture, sabotage, or destroy the enemy ship.  They were also used to perform cutting out operations, which involved boarding anchored enemy ships from small boats, often executed as ship-to-ship boarding operations after nightfall.  Marine detachments provided expert riflemen to serve aloft in their ship’s rigging, their duty was targeting enemy officers, helms men, and gunners.  When the ship’s captain ordered landing operations or raiding parties, Marines were always “first to fight.”  Marines also served as gunners aboard ship.  Naval artillery was always a Marine Corps skill set, one that later transitioned to field artillery operations — as noted during the Battle of Bladensburg, Maryland.

The Quasi-War with France

Ships of the Royal Navy blockaded most of France’s capital ships in their home ports.  The U. S. Navy’s mission was twofold: first, to locate and seize or destroy smaller French ships operating along the US seacoast and in the Caribbean, and to protect convoys of cargo ships across the Atlantic.  There was no formal agreement between the US and UK — it simply worked out as an informal cooperative arrangements between British and American sea captains.

The largest threat to American shipping came from small, but well-armed French privateers.  These ships were constructed with shallow drafts, which enabled them to operate close to shore and within shallow estuaries.  French privateers used French and Spanish ports to launch surprise attacks on passing ships before running back to port.  To counter this tactic, the US Navy employed similarly sized vessels from the Revenue Cutter Service.

The first US victory over the French was capture of La Croyable, a privateer, by USS DelawareLa Croyable was captured after a lengthy pursuit along the southern New Jersey coast.  After the ship’s capture, she was renamed USS Retribution.  There were several other sea battles, but it may be sufficient to say that the U. S. Navy shined in its confrontation with a major European naval power.

U. S. Navy Captain Silas Talbot previously served during the Revolutionary War as an officer in the Continental Army.  On 28th June 1777, Talbot received a commission to serve as a captain of the 2nd Rhode Island Regiment.  After the siege of Boston, Talbot marched with his regiment to New York.  En route, the regiment rested at New London, Connecticut where he learned of Navy Captain Esek Hopkins’ request for 200 volunteers to assist in operations in the Bahamas.  Silas Talbot was one of Hopkins’ volunteers, but he retained his status as an officer of the Continental Army.

After having been recognized for his exceptional performance of duty and promotion to lieutenant colonel in the Continental Army (while serving at sea), the Congress commissioned Silas Talbot to captain, U. S. Navy, and gave him command of the American privateer General Washington on 17th September 1779.  In his final Revolutionary War engagement, the feisty Talbot tangled with the British fleet off the coast of New York.  He attempted to withdraw but was forced to strike his colors to HMS Culloden.  Talbot remained a prisoner of war until December 1781.

Following the Revolutionary War, Talbot served in the New York state assembly and as a member of the U. S. House of Representatives.  In early June 1794, President Washington selected Talbot to become the third of six newly commissioned captains of the United States Navy.  His first assignment was supervision of the USS President then under construction in New York.  On 20th April 1796, Congress suspended work on President  and Talbot was discharged.  Two years later, with the outbreak of the Quasi War, Talbot was recommissioned and assigned command of USS Constitution.

Captain Talbot’s mission was to protect American commercial ships, and to seek out and capture or destroy French Privateers.  In addition to commanding Constitution, Talbot was assigned overall command of the Santo Domingo Station.  In early May 1800, Constitution noted the presence of an armed French vessel anchored in Puerto Plata.  Talbot planned a “cutting out” expedition to either capture this vessel or fire it.  The ship’s identification was Sandwich, formerly a Royal Navy ship that had been captured by the French and operated as a privateer.

Sandwich, in addition to being well-armed, was anchored under the protection of heavy guns of Fortaleza San Felipe.  Talbot’s problem was that Constitution was too large to enter the harbor at Puerto Plata.  On 9th May, Talbot detained a small American sloop christened Sally, a 58-ton ship based out of Providence, Rhode Island, under the command of Thomas Sanford.  Since Sally frequented the waters off Puerto Plata, her presence was not likely to raise the alarm of French and Spanish forces protecting Sandwich.

Commodore Talbot’s plan called for the detachment of one-hundred sailors and Marines from Constitution to serve under the command of Lieutenant Isaac Hull, USN with Marines under the command of Captain Daniel Carmick, USMC.[7]  The American sailors and Marines would hide inside Sally as the ship sailed into the harbor and then execute the capture of Sandwich.  Overall command of the cutting out operation would fall to Captain Carmick.  According to Carmick’s journal, “By this means it was easy to take the vessel by surprise [sic]; it put me in mind of the wooden horse at Troy.”

As Sally made her way into port, she was fired on by a British frigate and subsequently boarded.  The British officer commanding found not a small vessel engaged in trade, but one filled below decks with US sailors and Marines.  Lieutenant Hull provided the British officer with an overview of the intended operation.  As it happened, the British were also watching Sandwich with interest.  After some discussion, the Americans were allowed to continue their mission with the Royal Navy’s best wishes for success.

On 11th May, with Sally maintaining her cover, the ship sailed into Puerto Plata.  Hull ordered the sailors and Marines to remain below decks until his order to board Sandwich.  Sally laid alongside the French privateer and, when Hull ordered it, Carmick led his Marines over the side of Sandwich in “handsome style, carrying all before them and taking possession” of the enemy ship without any loss to themselves.  Following Captain Talbot’s plan, Captain Carmick and First Lieutenant Amory led their Marines toward the fort.  Their assault was stealthy and quick.  Before the Spanish Army commander had time to react, the Marines were already in control of the fort, had spiked its guns, and withdrew to board Sandwich, which they promptly attempted to sail out of the harbor.  Unfavorable winds delayed their departure until the middle of the night.

The action at Puerto Plata was significant because it marked the first time United States Marines conducted combat operations on foreign soil.  The operation was boldly executed and lauded by Commodore Talbot.  He wrote, “Perhaps no enterprize [sic] of the same moment has ever better executed and I feel myself under great obligation to Lieutenant Hull, Captain Carmick, and Lieutenant Armory, for their avidity in taking the scheme that I had planned, and for the handsome manner and great address with which they performed this dashing adventure.”

Commodore Talbot was criticized, however, because it was the decision of the admiralty court that seizure of Sandwich whilst anchored in a neutral port, was an illegal act.[8]  Not only was Sandwich returned to France, the officers and crew forfeited their bounty.  Not even the official history of the Marine Corps remembers this FIRST action on foreign shore.  Rather, the official history of the Corps skips over the Quasi-War and addresses the Barbary Wars as if the former never happened.[9]

The United States Navy and Royal Navy reduced the activities of French privateers and capital warships.  The Convention of 1800, signed on 30 September 1800, which ended the Quasi-War, affirmed the rights of Americans as neutrals upon the sea and reiterated the abrogation of the Alliance of 1778.  It did not compensate the United States for its claims against France.

Addressing the Barbary Menace to Navigation

Lt. Presley O’Bannon USMC

For a summary account of how the United States responded to the Barbary pirates, see At Tripoli (Part I) and At Tripoli (Part II ).

The courage and intrepidity of the naval force at Tripoli was without peer in the age of sail, heralded at the time by British Admiral Horatio Nelson as “The most-bold and daring act of the age.”  Pope Pius VII added, “The United States, though in their infancy, have done more to humble the anti-Christian barbarians on the African coast than all the European states have done.”  But politically, all we can say is that the United States government is consistent in its perfidy.

While Thomas Jefferson proclaimed victory, his ambassadors were working behind the scenes cutting deals with barbarian pirates.  Consul-General Tobias Lear negotiated a less-than-honorable peace treaty with Tripoli.  Jefferson agreed to pay $60,000 for all American prisoners, agreed to withdraw all naval forces, granted a secret stipulation allowing the Pasha to retain Ahmad’s family as hostages, and without a single blink, betrayed Ahmad Qaramanli.  The Senate ratified this treaty in 1806 over the objection of Federalists and it did not seem to matter, to either Jefferson or James Madison, that they lost the respect of the American people.  Of course, Madison added to this in 1812 by starting a war with the United Kingdom that ultimately ended up with the destruction of the nation’s capital — except for the US Marine Barracks and Eighth and I Streets.

Nor did the Barbary pirates end their misdeeds; the United States simply decided to ignore them (even at the expense to American-flagged merchant ships).  After the end of the War of 1812, it was again necessary to address Mohammedan piracy.  On 2nd March 1815, Madison asked Congress for a declaration of war against the pirates.  Madison dispatched two naval squadrons to deal with the miscreant Moslems.  Commodore William Bainbridge commanded one of these, Commodore Stephen Decatur commanded the other.

Decatur reached the Barbary Coast first, quickly defeated the blighters, and forced a new arrangement favorable to the United States.  Decatur would not negotiate, but he didn’t mind dictating terms and in doing so, marked the first time in over 300 years that any nation had successfully stood up to the barbarian horde.  Commodore Decatur’s success ignited the imaginations of the European powers to — finally — stand up for themselves.  In late August 1816, a combined British and Dutch fleet under Lord Exmouth visited hell upon Algiers, which ended piracy against almost everyone except France.  Mohammedan depredations against France continued until 1830 when France invaded the city of Algiers — remaining there until 1962.

Sources:

  1. Abbot, W. J.  The Naval History of the United States.  Collier Press, 1896.
  2. Bradford, J. C.  Quarterdeck and Bridge: Two centuries of American Naval Leaders.  Annapolis: Naval Institute Press, 1955.
  3. McKee, C.  A Gentlemanly and Honorable Profession: The Creation of the U. S. Naval Officer Corps, 1794-1815.  Annapolis: Naval Institute Press, 1991
  4. Rak, M. J., Captain, USN.  The Quasi-War and the Origins of the Modern Navy and Marine Corps.  Newport: US Naval War College, 2020

Endnotes:

[1] The Articles served as a letter of instruction to the central government, giving it only those powers which the former colonies recognized as those belonging to king and parliament.  Although referred to as the Congress of the Confederation, the organization of Congress remained unchanged from that of the Continental Congress.  Congress looked to the Articles for guidance in directing all business … including the war effort, statesmanship, territorial issues, and relations with native Indians.  Since each state retained its independence and sovereignty, all congressional decisions required state approval.  Congress lacked enforcement power, the power to raise revenues, or the power to regulate trade.  Under the Confederation, government had no chief executive beyond “president of the congress assembled,” nor were there any federal courts.

[2] There was a single casualty from all this.  Washington’s advisers presented him with evidence that Edmund Randolph, Jefferson’s successor as secretary of state, had allegedly solicited a bribe from a French envoy to oppose the treaty with England.  Although Randolph denied the charges, an angry Washington forced his old friend to resign.  With this action, another important precedent was set.  The Constitution empowers the President to nominate his principal officers with the advice and consent of the Senate; it says nothing, however, about the chief executive’s authority to dismiss appointees.  With Washington’s dismissal of Randolph, the administrative system of the federal government was firmly tied to the President.  In total, Washington dismissed three foreign ministers, two consuls, eight collectors, and four surveyors of internal revenue — all without seeking the advice or approval of Congress.

[3] An American diplomatic mission was sent to France in July 1797 to negotiate a solution to problems that were threatening to escalate into war.  American diplomats included Charles Pinckney, John Marshall, and Elbridge Gerry.  These diplomats were approached through informal channels by agents of French foreign minister Charles Talleyrand, who demanded bribes and a loan before formal negotiations could begin.  Talleyrand had made similar demands of other nation’s diplomats and collected from them.  The Americans, however, were offended by these demands and returned to the US without engaging in any diplomatic resolution to the problems.

[4] A frigate was any warship built for speed and maneuverability.  They could be warships carrying their principal batteries of carriage-mounted guns on a single deck (with smaller carriage-mounted guns on the fo’c’sle and quarterdeck.  Frigates were too small to stand in the line of battle, but they were full rigged vessels (square rigged on all three masts).

[5] A sloop of war had a single gun deck that carried up to 18 guns, an un-rated ship, a sloop could be a gun brig or a cutter, a bomb vessel or a fireship.

[6] See also: Marine Detachments

[7] In 1800 (as today) a navy lieutenant was equivalent in rank to Marine Corps captain.  In the navy, however, there were but three ranks: lieutenant, master commandant, and captain.  In the Marine Corps, there were five ranks: lieutenant colonel commandant, major, captain, first lieutenant, and second lieutenant.  Navy command has always taken precedence for seaborne operations, including of the landing force until the Marines first set foot ashore.  At that time, if a Marine officer is present, he would assume command of land operations.  Daniel Carmick also served with distinction in the Mediterranean and commanded US Marines in the Battle of New Orleans during the War of 1812 (See also: At Chalmette, 1815).  He passed away in 1816 from wounds sustained in December 1814.

[8] Captain Silas Talbot resigned from the Navy following the Quasi War.  He passed away at the age of 67-years in New York on 30th June 1813.  In two wars, Captain Talbot was wounded in action thirteen times.  He carried with him to the grave the fragments of five bullets. 

[9] Captain H. A. Ellsworth published this history in 1934 (reprints in 1964, 1974) in a work titled One Hundred Eighty Landings of United States Marines, 1800-1934.  Captain Ellsworth stated, “Every United States Marine should have indelibly impressed upon his mind a picture of the island which now contains the Dominican Republic, because the city of Puerta Plata (Port Au Platte), in this republic is the birthplace of the history of the landings, other than in time of war, of his Corps.”


The Harsh Life

At Sea in the 19th Century

“No man will become a sailor who has contrivance enough to get himself placed in jail.”—Dr. Samuel Johnson, 1773

Samuel Johnson’s advice is not something one would expect to see in a navy recruiting pamphlet in 1800, but it was an honest appraisal of the life of a seaman in that year.  From every account, from around 1775 to the mid-1800s, life at sea was so difficult that most men avoided it in the same way they would avoid bubonic plague, and it was infrequent when a ship went to sea with a full complement of crewmen.  During the Revolutionary War, American ships remained tied up because few men were interested in taking on the harsh life.  Young boys between the ages of twelve and sixteen, on the other hand, filled as they were with romantic notions about life aboard a ship, became a primary focus for navy recruiters.

Generally …

Life at sea was about the same for Americans as it was for an Englishman, a Swede, or a Spaniard.  A grown man imbued with common sense, particularly one with previous experience at sea, did his best to avoid the sea service because sailing ships were filthy, smelly, unhealthy, and rampant with rats and other vermin.  If that wasn’t enough, sailing ships were cold, damp, and confining.  Once at sea, one may as well have been placed in jail because there was nowhere to go, but as Dr. Johnson suggested, jail should be preferred.  The general unattractiveness of life at sea was so predominant that ship’s captains often sent “press gangs” ashore to round up able-bodied seamen, many of whom, having been whacked on the head, were carried unconscious aboard ship and placed in irons until the ship left harbor.  Once the ship was at sea, the impressed men were welcomed aboard, congratulated for making a good decision, and given “the word” — the rules by which they would govern themselves while a member of the crew.  The term “able-bodied seaman” meant that a crewman had two legs, two arms, and most of his fingers.  

The Word

At a time when most Americans were illiterate, navy training was an oral tradition and “on the job” instruction.  The first task assigned to “trainers” was to make sure that all hands acknowledged the Navy’s regulations and the policies of the ship’s captain.  In most cases, “the word” lasted until the ship was again in port because this was when sailors had an opportunity to escape.  Some historians claim that desertion from the naval service numbered in the thousands, prompting ship’s captains to send out impressment crews in the middle of the night to locate and “recruit” drunken sods.  Age didn’t matter, but the younger person was always preferred, and it would help if the impressed crewman spoke English, but this was not a hard and fast rule.  French speaking sods could be whacked on the head just as easily as a Spaniard.

Manning the ships with officers

Navy officer uniforms 1803

There were two sources of recruitment for young seamen.  Generally, midshipmen were officer trainees.  The term originated in the 17th century from the place aboard ship where they worked or birthed — amidships.  Army and Navy candidates for officer service were often the sons of wealthy families not destined to inherit their fathers’ estates.  Unless the eldest son died before maturity, a younger son did not expect any inheritance.  Still, in fairness, it was believed that something should be done for the younger sons.

It may have been that if younger sons had no demonstrated ability or interest in the study of law or accountancy, or some other noteworthy profession, particularly if the younger sons were disrespectful or rebellious, then their influential fathers would try to have them accepted into the army or navy.  Obtaining officer’s commissions differed between the British Army and Royal Navy, and some of these traditions were transferred to the US Army and Navy.  Between 1683 and 1871, British Army commissions were frequently purchased; a wealthy father would pay to have a son placed at Sandhurst; afterward, the purchase of commissions was up to the officer.[1]

The Royal Navy employed a different system.  Beginning in 1661, influential fathers would obtain “letters of service” from the Crown.  The King’s letter instructed admirals and captains to “show the bearer of this letter such kindness as ye shall judge fit for a gentleman, both in accommodating him in your ship and in furthering his improvement.”  The bearer of the King’s letter was titled/rated as volunteer per order, also often known as the King’s letter boys; it distinguished them as a higher apprentice class from those of normal midshipmen ratings.

The life of a midshipman was particularly challenging — more so than for an army subaltern.  Rising to a position above midshipman required six to eight years of training at sea, the favor of ships officers under whom they trained, passing a written examination, and the approval of the ship’s captain who always had the last word.

Historically, there were four classifications of midshipman.  Between 1450-1650, a midshipman was an experienced seaman from the deck who supervised ordinary seaman below the rank of ship’s officers.  This fellow may also have called a master’s mate.  He was not an officer trainee, but perhaps more on the order of a warrant officer.  In the 1700s, midshipman extraordinary were young men serving below the rank of post-captain, paid as midshipmen until they could find a position aboard another ship.  Midshipman served as apprentice officers, and midshipman ordinary were older men who either failed to pass the examination for lieutenant or, men having passed the examination yet deemed of insufficient character for advancement.  Midshipmen did not have the luxury of “resigning.”  As a King’s letter boy, a midshipman was honor-bound to serve the six-to-eight years, after which he might resign to find other opportunities.

Manning the ships with enlisted men

Once “recruited,” the young seaman received his initial and ongoing training under the authority of the ship’s schoolmaster.  It the ship did not have a schoolmaster, the duty for training fell to either the ship’s chaplain or captain’s clerk.  Not much effort was applied to the formal training of boy-seamen, however.  Most seamen learned their tasks while “on the job.”  Life at sea was already dangerous, particularly among the youngsters who had to learn, in addition to their routine shipboard tasks, to manage their fears.  Climbing into the rigging some 80 feet above the main deck was a frightening experience — worse when at sea with the ship rolling from side to side.  The only way to conquer such fears was to ‘just do it.’  More than a few boys fell to their death.

In 1837, the U. S. Navy adopted the Naval Apprentice System for enlisted boys no younger than thirteen years, nor over eighteen years, to serve until age 21.  Occasionally, a ship’s captain offered a boy-seaman a temporary appointment to serve as an apprentice officer.  Still, generally, the boy-seaman remained in the lower ranks for the duration of his service at sea.

In 1902, the U. S. Navy published its first Bluejacket’s Manual, written and issued to recruits as an instruction for basic seamanship and shipboard life.  In 1902, as in the previous 100 years, literacy was a problem among recruits for navy service.  The Bluejacket’s Manual continues to serve this purpose with annual updates to keep pace with evolving technologies.

Health and Hygiene

In 1818, U. S. Navy Regulations required captains to keep wind sails and ventilators in continual use.  The purpose of this regulation was to keep ships at sea “well-ventilated.”  Senior officers believed that a well-ventilated ship (drying below-decks from ever-present seawater and dampness) was a healthy ship.  The proposition may have been true, except that a constant stream of cold air blowing through the ship could not have been beneficial to men with colds and may have even caused more than a few illnesses and deaths.  Navy regulations also prohibited seamen from wearing wet clothing.  The ship’s system helped dry wet clothing.  With limited facilities to store extra clothing, this too became a chore aboard ship.

Meals aboard ship today are generally tasty and nutritious but it wasn’t always that way.  In 1818, the American sailor could expect three pounds of beef per week, 3 pounds of pork per week, one pound of flour, 98 ounces of crusty bread, two ounces of butter, three ounces of sugar, four ounces of tea, one pint of rice, a half-pint of vinegar, and three and a half pints of rum.  Boy-seamen below the age of 18 were not permitted to have rum; they were paid money instead … about thirty-five cents per week ($6.86 today).  In later years, seamen were provided with raisins, dried apples, coffee, pickles, and cranberries.  Food aboard ship was always “salty.”  Before refrigeration, food subject to spoilage was packed in brine.  It was often “too salty” and unsuitable for human consumption.  These problems led some sea captains to keep livestock on board, including pigs, ducks, geese, and chickens.

Ships of the Navy carried enough fresh water to last a typical cruise, carried below decks in wooden casks.  Stagnant water was a problem, however, which frequently required the rationing of water.  When water stores became a problem, the ship’s captain would order a boat ashore to obtain fresh water when possible. Getting freshwater was no easy task, either.  Regulations stated that crewmen were not permitted to drink any water alongside the ship, that freshwater, when obtained, must be allowed to settle before consumption.  In the early 1800s, no consideration was given to the natural impurities of freshwater, which did cause sickness among the men, including cholera.  Boiling water before consumption did not evolve until many years later.

Navy enlisted uniforms, 1888

As previously mentioned, there was no heat aboard sailing ships.  The only fire allowed aboard ship the carefully controlled fire maintained for cooking in the ship’s galley.  If there were any heated spaces aboard ship, they would most likely be found in the sickbay and usually took the form of hot coals in an iron bucket.  These conditions assured that the men were always cold, and it became a worse ordeal when the men’s clothing became wet or damp.

Regulations also required crewmen to wash two or three times a week, which must have been an unhappy task while operating in the North Atlantic during winter months.  Among the common ailments of seamen were rheumatism, consumption, debility, scurvy, and syphilis.  The latter disease often endangered the operational efficiency of the ship due to physical incapacitation.  In certain seasons, ship’s crewmen experienced outbreaks of yellow fever and smallpox.  Since there was no cure for consumption (tuberculosis), men so affected continued their service until death overtook them.  Whether these men were isolated away from others is unknown.

The Slops and other Uniforms

The American sailor’s wardrobe, called “slops,” generally consisted of a peacoat, two cloth jackets, two cloth trousers, two white flannel shirts, two white flannel drawers, two pair of white yarn stockings, two black handkerchiefs, two duck cotton frocks, two duck cotton trousers, four pair shoes, one mattress, two blankets, one canvas hammock, one red cloth vest, and two black hats.

Quarters — or not

Living quarters aboard the ship were spartan.  Officers were assigned cabins according to their rank and seniority, but crewmen lived communally.  For the crew, sleeping quarters were dark, frequently awash in seawater, and almost always infested with vermin.  Despite rules for bathing, crews’ quarters were often rancid smelling was nauseous.  Part of this problem is explained by the fact that ship’s crews washed their clothing in urine and saltwater.  Presumably, this was designed to save freshwater for drinking and, perhaps, to address the problem with lice and other biters.

Religious Instruction

The US Navy always mandated religious services while at sea, but not every ship was large enough to warrant a chaplain.  In the case of small ships, it was either the ship’s captain or his clerk who conducted religious services — which included two divine services each day and sermons on Sunday.  Attendance at religious services as mandatory for everyone not on watch.  But even when there were shipboard chaplains, it was unlikely that the individual fulfilling that duty was an ordained minister.  In 1862, US Navy Regulations stated that ship’s captains “… shall cause divine service to be performed on Sunday, whenever the weather and other circumstances allow it to be done,” and recommended, “… to all officers, seamen, and others in the naval service diligently to attend at every performance of the worship of Almighty God.”

Recreation

In today’s navy, recreational pursuits are available to every member of the crew, including workout rooms, libraries, computer centers, and various thematic clubs.  It wasn’t until 1825 that the navy set aside a place for libraries, which were generally placed under the charge of chaplains and ship’s clerks.  Since most crewmen were illiterate, officers were the usual patrons of ship’s libraries.

Members of the crew who played instruments often provided music.  In the old navy, the number one recreational activity was shore leave or liberty.  Officers often went on sightseeing tours, hunting parties, or were “invited guests” to the homes of locally prominent members of society.  Enlisted men were left to their own devices, which were generally activities in contravention of every religious service or sermon heard while aboard ship — and this may be the one remaining tradition of the early American navy.

Paying the Piper

Discipline aboard ship was draconian.  Among the more severe transgression was the stealing of food.  Individual discovered stealing food were in some cases punished by nailing the offender’s hand to a mast and then cutting it off.  Flogging was also a common punishment — the number of lashes depending on the offense charged, but several dozen was not uncommon.  If it ever actually existed as a punishment, Keelhauling was, to my knowledge, never employed in the US or Royal Navy, whence American naval traditions originated.


Endnote:

[1] Primarily a system in the British Army whereby an officer would pay a sum of money to the Army for a commission in the cavalry or infantry, thereby avoiding the need to wait for a seniority or merit-based advancement.  The payment was a cash bond for good behavior liable to forfeit in the case of cowardice, desertion, or misconduct.  This system was abolished in 1871.

Lieutenant Colonel C. Jack Lewis, USMCR

When he was just a little guy, Jack Lewis became separated from his mother in a large department store.  Anyone who’s been lost in a department store at the age of five or six knows that it’s a terrifying experience.  But then, two young men came to his rescue.  They were Marine Corps recruiters, wearing the dress blue uniform that makes Marines stand out among all other servicemen.  They returned him to his mom.  Jack Lewis never forgot those Marines.

So, in 1942, when it came time for Americans to stand up against fascism, C. Jack Lewis made his way to the local recruiting office and joined the Marines.  Now, for the uninitiated, there are only two kinds of Marines: live Marines and dead Marines.  You see, becoming a United States Marine is a lifetime endeavor.  My good friend Colonel Jim Bathurst titled his autobiography on this very concept: as long as Marines keep faith with one another, and with the code of honor to which we all subscribe, then, We’ll All Die As Marines.

I met Lieutenant Colonel Jack Lewis while assigned as the Adjutant, Marine Aircraft Group 46 in 1979-81.  Lewis was a reserve officer, then serving as the Reserve Liaison Officer for Southern California.  I suspect that there was no better-qualified individual to serve in that capacity than Colonel Lewis.  He served in World War II, the Korean War, and in Vietnam.  In each instance, after serving a tour of combat duty, Jack left the active-duty force and went back into the Marine reserve.  He did this, he told me because there was too much “chicken shit” in the active force … and if there was one thing Lewis could not abide, it was “oppressive regulations, careerist officers, and people who called themselves Marines but wouldn’t have made a pimple of a dead Marine’s ass.”

Like many young men of his day, the teenaged Jack Lewis became what he described as an “amateur juvenile delinquent.”  He was always in trouble.  The problem wasn’t so much Jack’s behavior as it was that he wanted more out of life than his circumstances would allow.  By the late 1930s, Jack was looking for something special in his life.  Something that would offer him a challenge, hold him accountable, and something that he could love with unbridled passion.  In this regard, the Second World War probably came along at the right time for Jack Lewis.  Jack Lewis joined the Marines out of a sense of patriotism, but in doing so, he found that “special something” he was looking for.  The Marines squared his ass away, gave him a reason to get up in the morning, inculcated him with the values so dear to anyone who has ever (honorably) worn the uniform of a United States Marine.  The U. S. Marine Corps became the organization that set him on the pathway of success for the balance of his life.

Jack was born in Iowa on 19 November 1924 but at the age of two, his family moved to Florida.  As a lad, he was a voracious reader and a writer and at age 14, he sold his first novel … The Cherokee Kid’s Last Stand.  The novel earned him five dollars.  Now, while five dollars doesn’t sound like a lot of money, one must recall that in those days a field hand earned a dollar a day for backbreaking work.  No, it wasn’t much, but he was fourteen years of age, and it was a start in a writing career that lasted the balance of his 84-years.

Following World War II, Lewis returned to Iowa, where in 1949 he graduated from the state university with a degree in journalism.  He was subsequently commissioned as a second lieutenant in the Marine Corps Reserve.  A short time later he was assigned to help produce a Marine Corps training film, and then owing to his service in World War II, he became a technical advisor to the John Wayne film, Sands of Iwo Jima.  Of this later effort, Lewis said that he basically advised members of the cast on how to lace up their leggings.  He no doubt contributed far more than that.

When the Korean War erupted in June 1950, Lewis returned to active duty for six years.  He served as a combat correspondent and photographer.  Now this may not seem like much in terms of what Hollywood tells us about combat (which is mostly wrong), but every Marine — no matter what his occupational specialty, no matter what his rank — is first and foremost a rifleman.  Initially, Jack Lewis carried an M-1 carbine as his T/O weapon.  It was the first time he’d carried that particular firearm, considerably smaller than the M-1 Garand.  In one fire fight, Jack shot a communist Chinese soldier eight times, hitting him six times, without doing any noticeable damage to this enemy.  Another Marine standing nearby, who was armed with a Thompson submarine gun, stepped up and blew the communist into the afterlife.  Allowing that no matter where you hit a man with a .45 caliber weapon he’s going down, Lewis thereafter armed himself with a Thompson and would not part with it.  During a second combat tour of duty in Korea, Lewis earned a Bronze Star for his work filming Marine Corps aircraft engaging the enemy from an exposed position.

During the Korean War, Jack Lewis submitted over two dozen magazine articles to Marine Corps headquarters for publication in the Leatherneck Magazine.  HQMC returned the articles telling Lewis that they all sounded too much like Marine Corps propaganda.  Miffed, Lewis then sent the articles to his civilian literary agent who had them published, earning Lewis $200.00 each.  Lewis sent copies of the published articles to the individual at HQMC who had rejected them.  Knowing Jack, I can easily imagine that he sent these copies with a caustic note, but I don’t know that for a fact.

Following the Korean War, Jack commanded a rifle company in the 4th Marines at Camp Pendleton, California.  He was subsequently transferred to the Naval Air Station, Kaneohe Bay, Hawaii where he served as a public information officer.  During this tour of duty, Lewis was assigned as a technical advisor on John Ford’s film titled Mister Roberts.  When no one could locate a stunt performer to drive a motorcycle off a pier, Lewis did the job himself.  Lewis later appeared in a minor role in Admiral Ford’s film, Sergeant Rutledge.

Marines, by their nature, are exceptional.  Jack’s stellar performance prompted his commanding officer to encourage Jack to apply for a regular (as opposed to reserve) commission.  Jack would have none of this, however.  He wanted to pursue a writing career and upon expiration of his active duty obligation, Jack Lewis returned to inactive service in the reserves.

In addition to writing screenplays for films, Lewis found work as a magazine editor in 1956; after three years of learning how magazines are done, he teamed up with Dean Grennell[1] to publish Gun World magazine in 1959.  He continued to author the monthly knife column until his death in 2009.  Lewis was highly critical of the capabilities of various weapons marketed to military and law enforcement agencies.  In fact, he was so critical that the firearms manufacturing companies refused to advertise in his magazine.  Lewis once told the Commandant of the Marine Corps that the M16’s only consistent effect was that it changed the world’s perception of the American rifleman.  Americans, he said, used to be sharpshooters, but after the M16, they were little more than “sprayers.”

Jack Lewis developed a story that he originally titled Year of the Tiger.  When Marshall Thompson[2] selected Lewis’ work for a 1963 film, he hired Lewis to write the screenplay and the title was changed to A Yank in Viet-Nam, which was filmed on location in South Vietnam in 1963, often in the midst of, or within range, of actual fire fights.

In 1966, Lewis published a novel titled Tell it to the Marines.  It is the story of a Marine officer who, during the Korean War, is placed in command of a band of misfits in a motion picture unit.  In the preface of this book, Jack penned, “Any similarity to persons, places, or incidents is highly plausible; only the names have been changed to avoid court-martial.”  The humor in this book may be lost among those who never earned the Marine Corps emblem, and among those born in the 21st Century, life in the Marine Corps during the Korean war may not resonate.  I have a copy of this book on my shelf.

He was also the author of White Horse, Black Hat: A Quarter Century on Hollywood’s Poverty Row; Renegade Canyon; Mohave; Massacre Mountain; and The Coffin Racers.

In 1969, Lewis returned to active duty to serve a full-length tour in Vietnam with the III Marine Amphibious Corps.  During this tour, Lewis earned his second and third air medal, signifying 50 air missions exposed to enemy fire.  Lewis retired from the Marine Corps in 1984, one day prior to his 60th birthday.

Colonel Jack Lewis was a man of many talents and many careers.  He did not suffer fools gladly; he was a maverick, not at all concerned about becoming someone else’s vision of a Marine —but his own vision was good enough for him and almost everyone who knew him.  He may have been a bit rough around the edges, and blunt, but he was a decent man whose professionalism was well-balanced with his friendliness.  He loved his Corps, and he loved Marines until his last breath.  In the company he managed for 37 years, he preferred hiring retired and former Marines. When Jack Lewis retired, he moved to Hilo, Hawaii, where he continued to write.  Colonel C. Jack Lewis, United States Marine Corps Reserve, passed away at his home on 24 May 2009.

Endnotes:

[1] Dean Grennell (1923-2004) served as a firearms instructor in the Army Air Corps during World War II and is remembered as an American firearms expert, writer, editor, managing editor of Gun World magazine, and the editor of the science fiction “fanzine” Grue. 

[2] Marshall Thompson (1925-1992) (a classmate of Norma Jean Baker) was an actor, director, and producer of films beginning in the 1940s of science fiction genre.  One film titled The Terror from Beyond Space in 1958 became the inspiration for Ridley Scott’s Alien films.  A second Viet Nam era film was titled To the Shores of Hell (1965).


McNamara’s Folly

Throughout America’s history, no citizen with common sense ever wanted to go to war.  “We the people” do not start wars — our elected officials and bureaucrats do that.  At no time in my memory has the US government offered a compelling argument or justification for involving our nation in a foreign war.  When they try to provide a convincing reason for war, they always wrap it in a lie.  For example, the government told Americans that the United States sent combat troops to Vietnam to defend the South Vietnamese people from their authoritarian cousins in the north.  In fact, both North Vietnam’s Ho Chi Minh and South Vietnam’s Ngo Dinh Diem had the same aspirations: unification under their leadership.  Neither man ever gave a damn about the poor South Vietnamese peasant.  War is bad enough, but when politicians and unelected bureaucrats contrive to make things worse for the combat soldier — which is the topic of this essay, the American voter should put his or her foot down and loudly and angrily proclaim, “enough is enough!”

Some Background

Combat units of the 3rd Marine Division (3rdMarDiv) began offering important lessons to the North Vietnamese Army (NVA) in 1965.  One of these lessons was that they should refrain from firing their weapons at U. S. Marines — because being shot at makes American Marines very cranky.

At the beginning of 1966, the 3rdMarDiv employed its 24,000 men against several communist thrusts into Quang Tri Province, also known as the I Corps Tactical Zone (I CTZ).  The five provinces of the I CTZ were the northernmost area of the Republic of Vietnam (South Vietnam).  General William C. Westmoreland, U. S. Army, Commander, U. S. Military Assistance Command, Vietnam (COMUSMACV), ordered the 3rdMarDiv to defend this northern tier.  In 1966, the 3rdMarDiv was the Marine Corps’ largest (ever) combat division.  There were five infantry regiments, one artillery regiment, all of the usual supporting units, Army artillery units, Navy logistical units (including Seabees), and two Army of the Republic of Vietnam (ARVN) infantry regiments.  The division was huge — but then, so too was their area of defense.[1]

The 3rdMarDiv’s tactical area of responsibility (TAOR) encompassed 1,800 square miles of Indian country.  The terrain was all rugged, elevated, menacing, and over-populated with things that hurt, such as an abundant enemy — and predatory cats.  At the far northern tip of South Vietnam, along its border with North Vietnam, was the demilitarized zone (DMZ).  Defending the DMZ was one of the division’s primary missions, but not the only one.[2]

To achieve this defensive objective, two unusual behaviors were necessary.  First, the United States had to adopt the strategy of the North Vietnamese, which was to prosecute a war of attrition.  Simply stated, the US and North Vietnamese agreed to see which of them could afford to give up the most human lives to further their political goals.[3]  Think about that for a moment.[4]  Second, for the Marines to defend the northern provinces, they had to establish a wide arc of defensive bases (euphemistically called combat bases) that would permit the 3rdMarDiv to respond to the enemy within an area of 1,800 square miles.

The main north-south highway within I CTZ was Route 1.  It connected Marine combat bases at Dong Ha and Quang Tri City in the North to Phu Bai and Da Nang in the South.  Any obstruction along this highway would disrupt vital logistical support of the division’s forward-most units; the enemy knew this exceptionally well.  So, the primary logistical highway became the Cua Viet River, which extended from its mouth on the coast to Dong Ha.

At Dong Ha, the river was about as wide as a mountain footpath.  Additionally, Route 9 linked Dong Ha with Khe Sanh.  East of Khe Sanh, the 3rdMarDiv created a series of outposts that offered some protection for Route 9 and the Cam Lo River Valley (which extended from Dong Ha to the coastal plain).  Of these outposts, the more critical were located at Ca Lu (ten miles east of Khe Sanh), the “Rockpile” (a sheer outcrop eight miles north), Camp Carroll (10 miles eastward), and “Leatherneck Square,” which was a quadrilateral region outlined by Cam Lo, Con Thien, Gio Linh, and Dong Ha.

As previously mentioned, the 3rdMarDiv’s TAOR was massive.  The division’s defense plan further divided the TAOR among its regiments and separate battalions.  Each of these had a code name, such as Napoleon, Kentucky, Lancaster, and Scotland.

The Third Marine Division defeated the NVA and Viet Cong (VC) in every engagement — but in confronting and defeating this enemy, the Marines encountered a high casualty rate.  By the end of 1967, Marine commanders were frustrated; the division lost good men and had nothing to show for it.  Between 1966-67, the division had lost 5,000 killed and wounded Marines.  It was an unacceptable casualty rate … and a direct result of the imbecilic static war concept.

In 1965, Washington bureaucrats began experimenting with various schemes for achieving their political goals through static defensive measures.  This may be all fine and good when looking at the larger picture, but on closer examination, the cost of “experimentation” was an excessively high US casualty rate.  Most of these “good ideas” had been rejected by the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff because, to implement them, the US would have to increase (at least initially) its troop strength in South Vietnam.  Moreover, implementing these ideas would force the North Vietnamese to change its strategy — specifically, a full-scale invasion of Laos by the NVA, which the Joint Chiefs of Staff wanted to avoid.

Whiz Boy

Robert S. McNamara

Secretary of Defense Robert S. McNamara was known as one of Ford Motor Company’s “whiz kids.”[5]  He was one of those “good idea” people who thought he knew everything he needed to know about fighting a war.  In reality, McNamara was a bean counter who knew nothing about warfare.

One of McNamara’s schemes was constructing a defensive line along the northern border of South Vietnam and its border with Southeast Laos.  McNamara met with former national security advisor Carl Kaysen.[6]  Kaysen convinced McNamara that the key to success in static defensive strategies was establishing an electronic barrier.  Kaysen argued (successfully) that an electronic barrier would limit NVA infiltration into South Vietnam.  An electronic wall made great sense to McNamara, so he convened a feasibility group consisting of several science technologists.  They submitted their proposals in March 1966 — which McNamara dutifully passed along to the JCS for their comments.

At best, the JCS was lukewarm to the idea of an electric barrier, particularly since the barrier wouldn’t prevent infiltration and because creating the barrier would still require additional forces in Vietnam.  Moreover, it would require a significant construction effort, would involve a massive logistical effort, exponentially increasing the costs of the war.  McNamara didn’t like being told “no.” It might have been better for everyone if McNamara had any knowledge of history — specifically, of Hadrian’s Wall.

Somewhat rebuffed, McNamara then turned to the JASON Group.[7]  The JASON group had impressed McNamara by proclaiming that Lyndon Johnson’s bombing campaign over North Vietnam was an utter failure.  Junior Airman Smith of the Strategic Air Command could have told McNamara that for a lot less money.

JASON recommended a two-tier defensive barrier system.  The first tier involved conventional detection/response capability inland from the coast along the southern portion of the DMZ and another system along the remote western section abutting Laos that would trigger electronic detection, air interdiction, and remotely triggered minefields.  JASON thought that such a system could be in place within a year.  At this point, McNamara had tiny electric tingles running up and down his leg.

Mr. McNamara sent the JASON proposal to the JCS for review.  Every service chief rejected it, save one.  JCS Chairman General Earle G. Wheeler, U. S. Army, was positively enthralled with the idea.[8]  Despite the overwhelming JCS rejection of the JASON plan, Wheeler sent the report to the Commander-in-Chief, U. S. Pacific Command, Admiral Ulysses S. G. Sharp, for his review.[9]  Admiral Sharp rejected the plan as impractical; General Westmoreland agreed.

With the backing of only one uniformed flag rank officer, McNamara took the plan to President Johnson, who knew no more about fighting a war than Junior Airman Smith of the Strategic Air Command. McNamara’s cost estimate — in dollars — was $1.5 billion.  Well, another $750-million (annually) for operating costs.  President Johnson, who never saw a spending package he didn’t like, approved it.[10]  In terms of combat casualties, the project would far exceed the material costs of McNamara’s Wall.

Louis Metzger

Marine Corps combat engineers began preparing the ground for the construction of Project Dye Marker along a strip of land 500 meters wide from Gio Linh westward to Con Thien in early 1967.  The Marines assigned to this project (infantry, artillery, and combat engineers) were utterly exhausted, a fact first expressed by (then) Brigadier General Louis Metzger, who served as Assistant Division Commander, 3rdMarDiv/CG 9th Marine Amphibious Brigade — because in addition to providing security for construction of McNamara’s Wall, they also constantly responded to the enemy’s initiatives in Northwest South Vietnam.  For the Marines, the project involved sustained periods of heavy combat.  Major General Raymond L. Murray, Deputy Commander, III MAF, echoed Metzger’s sentiments. “The division commander’s primary mission was the tactical handling of his troops … rather than build the damn line that nobody believed in, in the first place.” In December 1967, Murray angrily remarked, “How in the hell were you going to build this thing when you had to fight people off while you were building it?”

The actual cost of McNamara’s Wall was dear.  Not including the lives lost and the men wounded in trying to construct Dye Marker, the Marines spent close to a million man-hours and 114,000 equipment hours on the project; they had also lost more than $1.6 million in combat equipment to the enemy’s ground and artillery assaults.  Everything associated with Dye Marker became an enemy target, from convoys moving equipment forward to killing combat engineers while seated atop their bulldozers.

In 1967, the Commanding General, Fleet Marine Force, Pacific, Lieutenant General Victor H. Krulak, warned senior commanders in Vietnam that for the Marines to succeed, they must be allowed to wage war on their terms — not as part of a static defensive strategy subject to the prerogatives of the enemy — but as a lethal force that set its terms of engagement.[11]  By this time, the NVA had already demonstrated its willingness to lose large numbers of men in exchange for a fewer number of Americans, but over a sustained period.

Krulak identified three options along the DMZ: (1) Withdraw the Marines further south of the DMZ, out of range of NVA artillery (which, while tactically sound, offered a propaganda victory to the NVA exceeding Ted Kennedy and Jane Fonda’s visit to North Vietnam); (2) Invade North Vietnam (tactically and logistically difficult, not to mention politically impossible); or (3) Reinforce the 3rdMarDiv and intensify US air and artillery assaults on North Vietnam.  The ball was thus placed in Westmoreland’s court.  He needed to either crap or got off the pot.  Westmoreland elected to get off the pot.

At the beginning of 1968, the NVA used the western end of the barrier, from Khe Sanh, through the Special Forces camp at Lang Vei, to attack American forces in that region.  Lang Vei was overrun with 309 killed, 64 wounded, and 122 captured by the NVA, and Khe Sanh was placed under a siege that lasted for 77 days.  After the blockade, Westmoreland’s replacement, General Creighton W. Abrams, ordered Khe Sanh abandoned.  Abrams also ordered the destruction of all infrastructure along Route 9 toward Laos, including all roadways and bridges.  In October 1968, all work relating to Dye Marker ceased.

In March 1968, Major General Raymond G. Davis, USMC, served As Deputy Commander, Provisional Corps.[12]  In May, he was assigned as Commanding General, 3rdMarDiv, through April 1969.  During his tenure in this position, Davis refused to leave his men in static positions where they could be targeted and slaughtered by the NVA.  Soon after taking command, he ordered his subordinate commanders to move out of their static combat bases and execute their traditional mission: locate, close with, and destroy the enemy by fire and maneuver and close combat.  Operation Dewey Canyon was how he took the war to the enemy.  With a stream of officers who agreed with this philosophy following him as the division commander, the Marines of I CTZ inflicted a terrible price upon the enemy.  At the end of 1972, the NVA began conscripting young teenagers.  The war might have turned out much differently were it not for Washington politicians (of both parties) who shocked NVA General in Chief Vo Nguyen Giap by ordering the withdrawal of US Forces.

Conclusion

I have long given up my hope that the American people will begin to exercise their sovereignty over the federal government.  They seem not to mind burying their children in massive national cemeteries — and they apparently have never learned that elections have costly consequences.  John Kennedy’s election to the presidency was one of our nation’s more corrupt campaigns. Kennedy’s running mate was one of the most corrupt politicians in the history of the U. S. Congress.  Kennedy selected McNamara to serve as SecDef; Johnson kept him on the payroll.  Who, then, is to blame for getting the American people engaged in a land war that politicians had no intention of winning?  The blame rests with the American voter.  Democrats lied — to both the American people and our South Vietnamese allies — and tens of thousands of Americans died.

President Richard Nixon was roundly criticized by the vocal American communist/anti-war/progressive movement for expanding the war into Cambodia and Laos — but this was precisely what Nixon needed to do to defeat the NVA, who were already operating in Cambodia and Laos — but progressive Democrats/neo-communists gave Kennedy/Johnson a pass for having committed troops to Vietnam in the first place.

Sources:

  1.  Brush, P.  The Story Behind the McNamara Line. Vietnam Magazine, 1996.
  2. Cash, J. A.  The Other Side of the Hill.  Army Center of Military History, 2014.
  3. Philips, W. R.  Night of the Silver Stars: The Battle of Lang Vei.  Annapolis: Naval Institute Press, 1997.
  4. Prados, J.  The Blood Road: The Ho Chi Minh Trail
  5. Shulimson, J. And Blasiol, L. A. And others.  U. S. Marines in Vietnam: The Defining Year, 1968.  Washington: Headquarters, U. S. Marine Corps, 1997.

Endnotes:

[1] Marines defend the United States of America.  They do that through aggressive, overpowering combat.  There are defensive tactics in the Marine Corps, but they are designed as a temporary respite while transitioning from one attack to another.  A bended knee is not a Marine Corps tradition, and neither is establishing defensive positions while waiting for the enemy to make his next move.  US Policy in Vietnam tied the hands of the Marines (indeed, all air, ground, and naval forces), by restricting offensive operations and imposing our combat forces criminally malfeasant rules of engagement.

[2] A DMZ is an area of land in which treaties or agreements forbid the establishment of any military activity (installations, activities, or personnel).  It is a buffer zone between two warring factions.  In the case of Vietnam, it was the official border area between the Democratic Republic of Vietnam (North Vietnam) and the Republic of South Vietnam.  The NVA frequently violated this agreement, in much the same way they violated the neutrality of neighboring Laos.

[3] Never before in US history had the government of the United States adopted an enemy’s game plan.  Whether this was Westmoreland’s idea, or one imposed upon him from Washington, the result was the devastating loss of 58,000 American lives in a conflict that they could not win. 

[4] The aggressive nature of USMC combat operations has always been to save lives, not waste them.  If the United States must fight a war, then the sooner the enemy is defeated, the better.  Washington/Westmoreland denied this proven strategy to the Marines during the Vietnam War.

[5] McNamara served in the Army Air Corps in World War II, gaining a commission as a captain, and achieving the rank of lieutenant colonel before the end of the war.  During the war, he served in the Office of Statistical Control where he analyzed the effectiveness of bomber efficiency.  In 1946, McNamara and ten others of the OSC joined Ford Motor Company.  Collectively, they became known as the Whiz Kids because they helped reform a money-losing FMC.  McNamara became the first president of Ford Motor Company outside the Ford family.  Kennedy appointed him as SecDef at the beginning of his administration.

[6] Kaysen (1920-2010) was an academic advisor in the Kennedy administration, a “specialist” in international security at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT).  His field of expertise was nuclear warfare, foreign trade, international economic policy, and international security policy.  Presumably, Kaysen was an architect of the “Mutual Atomic Destruction,” which essentially changed forever the psychological characteristics of American society.

[7] The JASON Group was established in 1960.  It is affiliated with the MITRE Corporation, which operates seven Federally funded research and development centers at the expense of the American taxpayer.  Consisting of between thirty and sixty scientific technologists, JASON focuses on the development of military technology, with additional interests in global warming and renewable energy.  The term JASON came from “July-August-September-October-November,” the months in which the group typically met.  They are also skeptically known as “Junior Achiever Somewhat Older Now.”  Most developmental ideas originating from JASON were costly failures, shepherded through Washington bureaucrats by theoretical physicists, biologists, chemists, oceanographers, mathematicians, and computer geeks.  They no doubt had a hand in the creation of unmanned naval ships that currently sail the nation’s oceans.

[8] “Bus” Wheeler was a career staff officer and school instructor with active service between 1924-1970.  The Vietnam War may be a direct result of appointing a non-combat officer to head the JCS, particularly one who simply could not kiss enough political ass inside the Washington beltway.

[9] Admiral Sharp served as Commander, U. S. Pacific Fleet from 1963-64, and as Commander, U. S. Pacific Command from 1964-68.  Sharp was Westmoreland’s boss.

[10] Johnson’s only military experience occurred during World War II when he served as a Congressman/Navy Lieutenant Commander in the Public Affairs Section in Washington, D. C.  The 1965 epic war film In Harm’s Way based the character of LCdr Neal Owynn, a sycophant congressman, on Lyndon Baines Johnson.  When the project’s classified code name was leaked to the American press, Operation Practice Nine became Operation Illinois City and then later Project Dye Marker.

[11] Fleet Marine Force, Pacific (FMFPac) (1941-Present} is the largest maritime landing force in the world.  The general officer commanding reports directly to the Commander, U. S. Pacific Command, and exercises command authority over all subordinate commands of the Navy/Marine Corps expeditionary units operating in the Pacific, from California to the Far East.  During the Vietnam War, the CG FMFPac did not exercise operational control of Marines in Vietnam, but he nevertheless had something to say about how the Marines were employed within USMACV.

[12] Raymond G. Davis (1915-2003) served as a U. S. Marine from 1938-1972.  He participated in the Guadalcanal/Tulagi landings-campaigns, Cape Gloucester campaign, and the invasion of Peleliu.  He was awarded the Navy Cross and Purple Heart while commanding 1st Battalion, 1st Marines.  During the Korean War, Davis commanded 1st Battalion, 7th Marines, during which time he was awarded the Medal of Honor during the Battle of Chosin Reservoir.  He was also awarded the two Silver Stars, Bronze Star, and two Legions of Merit.


Tampico & Veracruz, 1914

Porfirio Diaz

It is probably fair to say that Mexico and the United States, with few exceptions, never achieved the status of good neighbors.  There are reasons for this, of course.  For a summary of this long-troubled relationship, please visit Old West Tales.[1]  José De La Cruz Porfirio Díaz Mori served as President of Mexico for 31 years.  Some historians claim that he was a ruthless dictator; others picture him as a bit kinder.  Either way, he was a Mexican patriot who developed a worldview that was consistent with his background and experience.  He first served as president from 1876 to 1880 and again from 1884-1911.  Throughout this period, Diaz was legally elected to the presidency.[2]  That he was a no-nonsense chief executive, there can be no doubt.  The reality of politics is that it is a ruthless business, and in Mexican history, there has never been a shortage of bandit revolutionaries.  This particular history, of course, helps to explain present-day Mexico.  In any case, circumstances forced President Diaz to resign from the presidency on 25 May 1911, and he subsequently fled to Spain, where he lived the balance of his life.

Beginning in 1911, Mexico suffered through a number of revolutionary contenders for the presidency, including Bernardo Reyes, Francisco Madero, Pascual Orozco, Pancho Villa, Emiliano Zapata, Ricardo Magon, Jose Maria Pino Suarez, Venustiano Carranza, Aureliano Blanquet, Plutarco Calles, Mario Velasques, Felix Diaz, Victoriano Huerta, and Alvaro Obregon.  The Mexican revolution lasted until 1920.

President James Monroe (1817-1825) was the first executive to formulate US policy toward Latin America, referred to as the Monroe Doctrine.  President Theodore Roosevelt (1901-1909) issued his corollary to the Monroe Doctrine in 1904, but we must credit President Woodrow Wilson (1913-1921) for implementing the US policy that refused to recognize any revolutionary leader not elected by popular vote.  In 1913, President Wilson refused to acknowledge the presidency of General Victoriano Huerta,[3] who had been installed as president (by agreement with U. S. Ambassador Henry Lane Wilson).[4]  According to President Wilson’s biographer, the president stated, “There can be no certain prospect of peace in America until General Huerta has surrendered his usurped authority.”

Admiral Mayo

Civil upheaval in Mexico threatened the safety of American citizens and the properties of Americans doing business there.  Owing to Wilson’s concern for American lives and business interests, Admiral Henry T. Mayo, Commanding the US Fifth Squadron, Atlantic Fleet, was dispatched to Tampico, Mexico in 1914.[5]

Admiral Mayo’s squadron included USS Dolphin, USS Connecticut, USS Minnesota, USS Chester, and USS Des Moines.  Tampico, a central oil-producing region, was besieged by Constitutional forces.  Generally, the relationship between the U. S. Navy and President Huerta’s federal garrison remained cordial.  For example, on 2 April, Admiral Mayo directed the captain of his flagship USS Dolphin to render honors to Mexico to honor the commemoration of General Porfirio Diaz’s capture of Puebla from the French in 1867.  Dolphin fired a 21-gun salute.

Typically, at the end of duty hours, ship’s work permitting, ship captains allowed crew members to boat ashore and engage in recreational activities, such as baseball, with the local townsmen.  On 6 April, Constitutionalist rebel forces under Colonel Emiliano Nafarrete occupied La Barra, Doña Cecilia, and Arbol Grande.  General Ignacio Zaragoza, the Tamaulipas governor and commander of the federal garrison, sent his gunboat Veracruz to shell the rebel forces that had stationed themselves behind oil storage tanks.  Admiral Mayo played it straight.  He sent a letter to both leaders stating that while he intended to remain neutral, he would take all steps to protect American lives and property.  Admiral May began to evacuate Standard Oil Company executives, workers, and their families but refused to land troops to cover its refinery.

After additional rebel attacks near the Iturbide Bridge on 7-8 April 1914, foreign nationals began asking for refuge on Admiral Mayo’s ships.  The U. S. Consul in Tampico sent an urgent message requesting help in evacuating the American population.  On the evening of 8 April, Mexican rebels detained a Marine Corps courier from the US Consulate, but he was released unharmed after an hour.  Meanwhile, running short of fuel, USS Dolphin’s skipper, Captain Ralph Earle, visited the American Consulate on 9 April, where he arranged refueling from a German national named Max Tyron.  Captain Earle agreed to take fuel delivery from Mr. Tyron’s dock, located near the Iturbide Bridge.

USS Dolphin, 1914

The duty of taking possession of this fuel fell to Ensign Charles C. Copp, who organized a whaleboat and crew to proceed to Tyron’s dock, pick up the fuel, and return to Dolphin.  Ensign Copp and his crew were unarmed; the American flag was flying fore and aft on the whaleboat.  Neither Copp nor anyone in his crew was able to speak Spanish.  While loading the fuel, an armed squad of Zaragoza’s soldiers surrounded the sailors.  Two crewmen, Coxswain G. H. Siefert and Seaman J. P. Harrington, remained on the whaleboat, but they too were taken at gunpoint.  Mexican soldiers escorted the men to Colonel Ramón Hinojosa.  Hinojosa released the sailors to continue their work but informed them that they would not be permitted to leave the dock without Zaragoza’s permission.

Mr. Tyron took a launch out to Dolphin to inform Captain Earle and Admiral Mayo of what happened.  Mayo ordered Earle to seek the release of his men under strong protest to the government of Mexico.  Earle, accompanied by Consul Miller, met with Zaragoza, who apologized — offering that his soldiers were ignorant of the laws of war.  Within an hour, Hinojosa released the sailors, and they returned to their ship with the fuel.[6]

Admiral Mayo viewed the incident as an insult to American sovereignty, grave enough in Mayo’s opinion, to demand reparations.  Mayo ordered Commander William A. Moffett to deliver a note to Zaragoza informing him that seizing men from a naval vessel, flying the United States flag, was an inexcusable act of war.  Admiral Mayo further demanded a formal repudiation, punishment of the individual responsible, and that he hoist the American flag in a prominent position ashore and render a 21 gun salute, which Mayo would return from Dolphin.

General Zaragoza referred the matter to the Mexican ministry of war in Mexico City.  President Wilson learned about this incident from William Jennings Bryan.[7]  The president told Bryan, “Mayo could not have done otherwise.”  President Wilson then added that unless the government of Mexico complied with Mayo’s dictate, grave consequences might result.

At the time, Nelson J. O’Shaughnessy was the American chargé d’affaires in Mexico City.[8]  Roberto Ruiz, Mexico’s foreign minister, paid a visit to O’Shaughnessy on 10 April and informed him of the incident.  Ruiz’ opined that Admiral Mayo should withdraw his demand.  After all, Zaragoza did apologize.  O’Shaughnessy and Ruiz met with President Huerta later that day.  Huerta agreed with Ruiz.  After the meeting, Mr. O’Shaughnessy released a statement to the press that indicated Zaragoza had detained Marines, not sailors, and that the Mexicans had paraded them through the streets of Tampico.  None of that was true, but its effect on the American people was electric.

On 12 April, President Huerta decided that Zaragoza’s verbal apology was sufficient.  In his opinion, the United States was given ample satisfaction.  The Mexican government would not apologize further, nor would any Mexican officials salute the American flag.  The next day, O’Shaughnessy further informed the press that either the salute would be rendered — or else.  On 14 April, President Wilson ordered Vice Admiral Charles Badger to sail the Atlantic Fleet into Mexican waters.  When President Huerta learned of Wilson’s order, he was elated, thinking it was the best thing to happen during his administration. Still, on 16 April 1914, Huerta agreed to a simultaneous saluting which signified that both sides were satisfied with the end of a conflict which “at no time” had been severe.

Despite Huerta’s reversal, Wilson decided that the Atlantic Fleet would remain in Mexico to prevent any incidents of ill-will or contempt for the United States — which Huerta had exhibited in the past.  Wilson had misunderstood Huerta’s meaning by “simultaneous.”  President Wilson warned Huerta that he would consult with Congress on 19 April with a view of taking such actions as may be necessary to enforce respect for the flag of the United States if Huerta did not render proper honors to the flag of the United States.

True to his word, on 20 April, President Wilson sought Congressional approval for the employment of the Armed Forces.  President Wilson intended to seize Vera Cruz “to get rid of Huerta” and his illegitimate authority in Mexico.  Wilson also learned on 20 April that a large shipment of arms and munitions were en route to Mexico from Germany.  Thus, the unfolding incident was far more involved than the issue of Huerta’s disrespect to the nation’s colors.  Congress provided its consent that same evening, and President Wilson immediately ordered landings at Vera Cruz, seizure of the city’s customs house, and directed the interception of arms from Germany.[9]

On to Veracruz

On the morning of 21 April, Rear Admiral Frank F. Fletcher began preparations for the seizure of Veracruz.  His orders were simple and direct: seize the customs house, prohibit off-loading war materials to Huerta’s forces or any other Mexican political party.  Landing operations under Navy Captain William Rees Rush began at approximately 11:00 when Marines of the 2nd Advanced Base Regiment from USS Prairie and Bluejackets from USS Florida started their movement to shore.[10]  A provisional battalion was also formed from the Marine Detachments, USS Florida, and USS Utah, who accompanied the Bluejackets into Veracruz.

Commanding the port of Veracruz was Mexican General Gustavo Maass, who, despite the American Consul’s warning not to interfere, could not surrender his post to the Americans.  He ordered the 18th Regiment under General Luis Becerril to distribute rifles to citizens of Veracruz and prisoners in the La Galera military prison and then proceed to the waterfront.  He then ordered the 19th Regiment under General Francisco Figueroa to defend the piers.  Finally, Maass sent a telegram to the Minister of War, General Aurelio Blanquet.  General Blanquet ordered Maass not to resist the landing but withdraw his forces to Tejería.

Once ashore, Captain Rush exercised overall command of the Bluejackets while Lieutenant Colonel Wendell C. Neville assumed command of the Marines.[11]  In furtherance of Admiral Fletcher’s objectives, Rush dispatched three companies of Bluejackets to occupy the customs house, the post office, and the telegraph office.  Colonel Neville directed his Marines to capture the railroad terminal, roundhouse, train yard, cable office, and the power plant.

Although most of Maass’s troops accompanied him to Tejería, liberated prisoners under Lieutenant Colonel Manuel Contreras (and a few civilians) opposed the Marines as they made their way inside the city.  The first casualty was a navy signalman stationed at the top of the Terminal Hotel.  At around 13:30, the U. S. Navy intercepted and detained the ship Ypiranga before its crew could unload its shipment of arms and munitions.

At the end of the first day, American casualties included four dead and 20 wounded.  Given these shootings, Admiral Fletcher decided that he had no choice but to expand his operations to include the entire city.  The following day, Fletcher ordered Rush and Neville to occupy Veracruz.  To accomplish this, Admiral Fletcher signaled USS San Francisco, USS Minnesota, USS Hancock, and USS Chester to land their Marine Detachments, bringing the number of Marines and Bluejackets ashore to around 3,000 men.

Marines began their advance into Veracruz at 07:45 on 22 April.  The Marines, experienced in street fighting, made an orderly and tactical movement, but a regiment of Bluejackets under Captain F. A. Anderson, without experience in urban warfare, marched in parade formation toward the Mexican Naval Academy.  Mexican partisans, who had barricaded themselves inside the parade ground, easily targeted Anderson’s Bluejackets, which halted his advance.  After Captain Anderson signaled for naval gunfire support, USS Prairie, San Francisco, and Chester pounded the Naval Academy, ending Mexican resistance.

As Marines and Bluejackets continued their advance, Colonel John A. Lejeune led the 1st Advanced Base Regiment (originally bound for Tampico) ashore.  By nightfall, more than 6,000 Americans occupied Veracruz, including a small aviation detachment from USS Mississippi.  The aviation detachment’s participation marked the first time naval aircraft became targets of ground fire.

Meanwhile, Colonel Joseph H. Pendleton assembled the Fourth Marine Regiment (4th Marines) at Puget Sound.  The regimental headquarters units incorporated the 25th, 26th, and 27th Marine companies.  After sailing from Washington State aboard the USS South Dakota, the regiment added four additional companies from Mare Island (31st, 32nd, 34th, and 35th companies).  Along with USS Jupiter, the task group proceeded to Mazatlán (west coast of Mexico), joined later by USS West Virginia, and reinforced by the 28th and 36th companies.  Pendleton’s 4th Marines was a contingency reserve.  There was no landing by the 4th Marines in Mexico.

A third provisional regiment of Marines, assembled in Philadelphia, arrived at Veracruz on 1 May under the command of Colonel Littleton W. T. Waller, who, upon landing, formed a Marine Brigade and assumed overall command of the 3,141 Marines.  Pending the arrival of an Army brigade under Brigadier General Frederick Funston, Admiral Fletcher declared martial law.[12]  Once the Army arrived in Veracruz, seagoing Marines and bluejackets withdrew back to their respective ships, and Admiral Fletcher turned over control of the port city to General Funston.

After Venustiano Carranza overthrew President Huerta, the United States withdrew its armed forces from Veracruz on 23 November 1914.  Subsequently, relations between the United States and Mexico improved somewhat. However, the American occupation of Veracruz did lead to several anti-American revolts in Mexico, Argentina, Chile, Costa Rica, Ecuador, Guatemala, and Uruguay.  Mexico expelled resident US citizens from Mexican territories, and the British government criticized Wilson’s policies in Mexico.  On a positive note, however, the US occupation of Veracruz did persuade Mexico to remain neutral during World War I.  After the Zimmerman affair, however, the United States and Mexico returned to their traditional rocky relationships.

Sources:

  1. Cooper, J.  Woodrow Wilson: A Biography.  New York: Vintage Books, 2011.
  2. McBride, W. M.  Technological Change and the United States Navy, 1865-1945.  Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 2000.
  3. Millett, A. R.  Semper Fidelis: The History of the United States Marine Corps.  New York: The Free Press, 1991.
  4. Quirk, R.  An Affair of Honor: Woodrow Wilson and the Occupation of Veracruz.  Lexington: University of Kentucky Press, 1962.
  5. Santelli, J. S.  A Brief History of the Fourth Marines.  Washington: Headquarters, U. S. Marine Corps, 1970.
  6. Sweetman, J.  The Landing at Veracruz, 1914.  Annapolis: Naval Institute Press, 1968.

Endnotes:

[1] See also, a six part series of the relationship between the United States and New Spain, Mexico, and Mexican Texas, beginning with Spanish America (24 June 2019).

[2] The statement only suggests that while he may have availed himself of corrupt voting irregularities, a tradition in Mexican politics, he didn’t seize power through force of arms.

[3] Victoriano Huerta (1850-1916) was a Mexican military officer and the 35th President of Mexico who seized power from  Francisco Madero in 1913, installed Pedro Lascuráin Paredes as his puppet, who then appointed Huerta as Secretary of the Interior.  Within an hour, Lascuráin  resigned the presidency — an action that brought Huerta into the presidency.

[4] President Wilson removed Henry Wilson from office as a result of making the so-called Embassy Agreement.

[5] Henry Thomas Mayo (1856-1937) graduated from the USNA in 1876, served in a number of career progressing billets, including his service as aide-de-camp to Secretary of the Navy Josephus Daniels.  After graduating from the Naval War College, he commanded several capital ships.  He was promoted to rear Admiral in 1913.

[6] Admiral Mayo criticized Ensign Copp for allowing foreign soldiers to seize his vessel. 

[7] A three time candidate for the presidency, Bryan served as Wilson’s Secretary of State.

[8] Nelson O’Shaughnessy (1876-1932) was a career diplomat born in New York City, was well-educated, gaining degrees from Georgetown University, St. John’s College, Oxford University, and the Inner Temple in London.  His earliest posts were at diplomatic missions in Denmark, Russia, Austria-Hungary, 1905-1911, and most notably in Mexico, 1911-1914, where his service gained him national notoriety.  As chargé d’affaires, O’Shaughnessy represented the interests of the United States in Mexico after the recall of the Ambassador following the coup of Victoriano Huerta in 1913.  A Republican, O’Shaughnessy alienated himself from President Wilson’s Democratic administrations by his cordial relationship with Huerta.

[9] Germany had long sought to incite a war between Mexico and the United States.  Another Mexican-American war would reduce the possibility of bringing the United States into the European war and slowed the export of American arms to the European allies.  For quite some time before World War I, Germany aided Mexican revolutionaries by arming them, funding them, and advising them.  German Naval Intelligence Officer Franz von Rintelen attempted to incite war between the US and Mexico by giving Victoriano Huerta $12 million in cash.  The German saboteur Lothar Witzke, who was responsible for bombings at Mare Island (San Francisco) and in New Jersey was operationally based in Mexico City.

[10] The Marine Corps Advanced Base Force was the Corps’ first task organized combat unit made up of coastal and naval base defense forces generally of battalion or regimental sized units (depending on its mission).  Initially, Neville’s unit was more or less on the same level as a reinforced battalion landing team which expanded in size once the Marines went ashore.

[11] The term “bluejacket” is generally used to denote a British or American sailor and often used to distinguish sailors performing landing force operations ashore from Marines.

[12] “Fighting Fred” Funston (1865-1917) was a Medal of Honor recipient with combat experience gained in the Spanish-American and Philippine-American wars.  In 1896, Funston was a volunteer with the Cuban Revolutionary Army who fought for Cuba’s independence from Spain.  Suffering with malaria, Funston returned to his home to recover.  In preparation for war with Spain, Funston was commissioned a colonel with the 20th Kansas Infantry.  He was promoted to Brigadier General in recognition of his undaunted courage under fire during the Philippine Insurrection.  Funston was not a favorite of Mark Twain, an avowed anti-Imperialist, who denounced Funston in an article published in the North American Review.  Funston’s public argument with Republican Senator George Frisbie Hoar resulted in President Theodore Roosevelt reprimanding Funston and ordering him to remain silent on public issues.  Funston was promoted to Major General in November 1914.  Funston died of a heart attack while attending a concert in San Antonio, Texas.


The Investigation

Another “Colonel Gresham” Adventure

The Uniform Code of Military Justice (UCMJ) sets forth Congressional instructions for the governance of criminal and civil laws and penalties for all Armed Forces of the United States.  However, each military department is empowered to implement these laws according to the peculiar needs of their services.  In the Navy and Marine Corps, the Manual of the Judge Advocate General of the Navy governs administrative and investigatory actions.

As one might imagine, there are several such processes and proceedings.  One of these proceedings involves command investigations, also referred to as Fact-Finding Investigation.  Before a Commanding Officer/Convening Authority can determine an appropriate course of legal action, he or she must review the facts surrounding an incident.  Hence a command investigation may be appropriate.

Command investigations are appropriate whenever an event or series of events might result in disciplinary action or later become the basis for a claim against the United States Government.  In any case, such an investigation materially assists commanding officers in determining how best to proceed in such matters.

Fact-finding investigations begin when a convening authority appoints an officer or NCO to conduct one.  It is usual for a convening authority to direct the investigating officer to provide “findings of fact, opinions, and recommendations.”  Opinions, of course, must be logically inferred from the facts presented.

As it happened, there was a regrettable incident at the command’s annual officer Christmas party.  There was a “gift exchange,” where people picked names out of a hat and were instructed to pick up a small gift costing no more than $10.00 for opening at the Christmas party.  The gathering was a mandatory social event; every officer assigned to the command element would participate.  Someone harbored resentment of being forced to exchange gifts.  The victim, in this case, was the person whose name the disgruntled person pulled out of the hat.

The Commanding General’s civilian executive secretary (I’ll call her Miss Smith) was a spinster lady of around forty years old at the time.  She was an introvert, ill-at-ease around others, exacerbated by a speech impediment — but by every account, she was a fast typist and a skilled record keeper.  Miss Smith was of medium height, slender build, and wore her hair the same every day — it was a sort of throw-back hairstyle to the early 1900s — a bun configuration on top of her head.  Despite her eccentricities, Miss Smith was a lovely lady whom the general wished to include in the command’s social gatherings.

The Christmas party was held at a local country club a few days before the beginning of the official holiday break — on a Friday evening, of course.  It was a coat and tie affair — somewhat typical for an officer’s social gathering.  Officers and their wives mixed with one or another group and made their manners to the Commanding General and his lady.  After a few hours of this sort of thing and several table servings of hors d’oeuvre (Marine officers never pass up free food — even if it is ‘beanie weenies’), it came time to exchange gifts.  This slavish duty fell upon the general’s aide-de-camp and his lady.  After opening presents, the officer/recipient would offer an inane comment, such as, “Oh wow … I’ve always wanted a pair of pink earmuffs.”

When the aide called for Miss Smith, she very self-consciously went up to the aide to receive her gift and then withdrew away from everyone as best she could … but of course, everyone waited for her to open the present and add to the growing list of inane comments.  The general and his lady stood nearby; they seemed pleased that Miss Smith had been able to join in the fun.

Miss Smith unwrapped her gift, found a box, which she opened to reveal a tube of lipstick.  And what do most ladies do when they look at lipstick?  They twist it open.  That’s what Miss Smith did, as well.  In sum, it was a foolish prank — particularly when one considers how fragile a person Miss Smith was.  The lipstick took the form of a phallic symbol.  The General was not happy to see his executive secretary being escorted out to her car, crying.

Sometime before the end of the evening, which occurred soon afterward, the CG turned to Colonel Gresham, his Chief of Staff, and said, “I want an investigation to find out who did this …”  I can’t say that I blame him; the prank was obviously the work of one of our officers, and it was hardly an act “becoming” of an officer.  Worse, it was unkind.  Gresham replied, “Yes, sir … I’ll get someone on it first thing Monday.”

“No,” said the CG … “I want you to do it.”

Handing this assignment to Gresham was probably an error in judgment.  Nevertheless, at promptly 08:00 on the following Monday, Colonel Gresham directed his trusty staff secretary, Major Karl Bueller, to (a) cancel the morning staff meeting, and (b) call the Staff Judge Advocate (SJA), Lieutenant Colonel Abrams (not his real name), and have him report immediately to the Chief of Staff.  The SJA was the command’s legal officer.

The first problem was that Abrams never arrived at work before 09:00.  Second, the word “immediately” wasn’t in Abrams’s vocabulary.  If Colonel Gresham was even partly aware of the habits of his staff, he would have known this.  By the time Abrams finally appeared in Gresham’s office, it was already 09:15, and the colonel was fuming.

Gresham was a loudmouth, someone who loved to hear the roar of his own voice.  People wondered about that.  No one likes being yelled at or spoken down to, but that was Gresham’s modus operandi.  So, everyone within earshot heard Gresham busting Abrams’s chops, and Gresham suffered under the misconception that Abrams gave a damn what Gresham thought.  Abrams was getting ready to retire anyway.

Getting down to business, Gresham filled Abrams in on what had happened the previous Friday evening, adding that the CG wanted someone to investigate the incident.  Abrams said, “Well, Colonel, let me talk to the General … this isn’t something …”

Gresham interrupted him.  “I’m not asking for your opinion, Abrams.  The decision has already been made.  I’m asking for your help.”

It had been twenty years since Gresham had conducted a fact-finding investigation.  He wanted Abrams to tutor him about how to proceed.  An hour later, Abrams returned to his office to gather the instructional materials Gresham would need to conduct his investigation.  He had one of his captains deliver to Gresham a copy of the JAG Manual, with appropriate sections paper clipped, a copy of the standard Miranda warning, numerous copies of statements forms, and a formal letter of appointment (which the CG duly signed).  After reading through these voluminous materials, Gresham was still a little confused, so he called down to the Abrams’s office to ask further questions.  Since Abrams usually went to lunch at around 11:00, Gresham would have to wait another two hours for his answers.

Abrams returned Gresham’s phone call at 13:30.  Gresham didn’t understand the Miranda Warning.[1]  The answer to Gresham’s question was, “No, sir.  You only give the Miranda warning to someone you suspect of an offense, misconduct, or improper performance of duty.  If you suspect that one or more persons committed a crime or is guilty of misconduct, you should not interview them until last.  If you give a Miranda warning, it must be given before you conduct your interview or ask them to make a statement.

Gresham spent the rest of the day organizing himself for the inquiry.  Bueller noted that Gresham’s organizational strategy was to stack his materials at one location on his desk and then move them to another site.  It was clear that Gresham didn’t want to conduct the investigation; Bueller opined, “He’s out of his depth.”

“Major Bueller,” roared Gresham, “get me a copy of the command officer personnel roster.  Line out anyone who was not present at the social gathering.”  The roster became Gresham’s “list of usual suspects.”

At promptly 08:00 on Tuesday morning, Colonel Gresham directed Major Bueller, his trusty Staff Secretary, to telephone LtCol Abrams and immediately report to the Chief of Staff.  As it happened, Abrams’s name was the first to appear on the personnel roster — because the roster was sorted alphabetically.

However, since Abrams didn’t arrive at work until a few minutes before or after 09:00, Gresham had to wait about an hour for Abrams’ appearance.  As before, Gresham was in no easy frame of mind when Abrams finally appeared.  The conversation on Tuesday began quite similarly to the one on the previous day.  Gresham loudly chastised Abrams: Abrams shrugged it off with a perfunctory “Yes, sir.”

With that out of the way, Colonel Gresham cleared his throat, sat down behind his desk, asked Abrams to take a seat.  Gresham then spent a few extra moments attending to the organization of his desk.  Bueller later opined, “He didn’t know what the hell he was doing.”

The Chief of Staff then looked intently at Abrams and said, “My name is Colonel George Gresham.  I am investigating an incident on (date) at the (name of country club) where the command’s executive secretary received a sexually explicit gift as part of the gift exchange program.  While you are not suspected of any wrongdoing at this time, it is my duty to inform you that you have certain rights.  You have the right to remain silent during my questioning; you are not obligated to answer any questions that might tend to incriminate you.  If you decide to answer questions, you must be aware that anything you do say will be taken down and used against you during a formal legal proceeding.  Also, if you decide to answer my questions now or make a statement regarding the subject of this investigation, you may stop answering questions at any time to consult with an attorney; if you desire to speak with an attorney, you may do so at the government’s expense, or if you choose, you may consult with a civilian attorney at your own expense.”

Gresham stopped speaking.  A long silence prevailed inside his office until he proceeded by asking, “Do you understanding these rights as I have explained them to you?”

LtCol Abrams, the command lawyer, replied, “Yes, sir.”

“Do you wish to make a statement now or answer my questions?” Gresham asked.

Abrams answered, “No, sir.”

Gresham’s mouth fell open.  “What?”

Abrams:  “I beg your pardon, sir?”

Gresham:  “I said, ‘What’ … you don’t want to make a statement?”

Abrams:  “That is correct; I do not wish to make a statement.”

Gresham:  “Why not?”

Abrams:  “Why not what, sir?”

Gresham:  “Why do you not wish to make a statement?”

Abrams:  “Oh.  Well, you aren’t allowed to ask me that, Colonel.”

Gresham:  “Why not?”

Abrams:  “Well, to begin with, the continuation of your line of questioning after I already informed you that I do not wish to answer any of your questions, including your question ‘Why not,’ would seem to contravene the entire purpose of the Miranda warning.”

Gresham:  “I see.  Well, in that case, would you care to make a statement to the effect that you do not wish to make a statement?”

Abrams:  “No, I would not.”

Gresham:  “Very well, you are dismissed.”

Major Bueller later reported that as Abrams departed Gresham’s office, he was shaking his head and chuckling to himself.

Colonel Gresham continued with his investigation … down the list of suspects he went.  Not even Major Bueller, his trusty Staff Secretary, wanted to make a statement.  It took Grisham several days to get through seven colonels, twenty-two lieutenant colonels, twenty-five majors, fifteen or so captains, and two lieutenants.

Not a single officer agreed to make a statement or answer any of Gresham’s questions.  Well, out of the entire staff of the headquarters element, only one person was “guilty” of conduct unbecoming, which means that everyone else was very likely insulted to have been questioned at all.

I would have narrowed the suspect list down to only a few, beginning with the Division Inspector, whom everyone called “Boss Hogg” on account of that’s who he looked like, and because he was known for his perversions in local New Orleans bars, and maybe one or two of the captains who routinely exhibited immature behavior.

Whoever played the mean prank on Miss Smith was never identified.  To my knowledge, there was never another Christmas party “gift exchange.”  No one knows what the CG might have said to his Chief of Staff when the official shoulder-shrug took place.

Lieutenant Colonel Abrams never did arrive at work on time; Colonel Gresham never again made that an issue. Major Bueller continued to wonder how Gresham ever made it to full colonel.

As did we all.

Notes:


[1] A Miranda warning is an advisory statement provided by police officials or lawful military authority to an accused or a suspect who is in police custody which reminds them of their right to silence, the right to refuse to answer questions or provide information to investigators.  It protects an accused/suspect from coerced self-incrimination.

The Road to War

U. S. Marine Corps Defense Battalions

Some Background

The Marine Corps mission, now a long tradition, is to locate, close with, and destroy the enemy by fire and maneuver, or to repel the enemy’s assault by fire and close combat.  No matter what occupational specialty assigned, every Marine is a trained rifleman.  Up-close and personal is how Marines fight.  As an organization, the Corps has two essential purposes: (1) making Marines, and (2) winning battles.

People who seek to join the Marine Corps are already psychologically unique because every potential recruit knows what the Marine Corps will expect from them from the very beginning of their enlistment process.  Knowing this, however, is insufficient.  Every enlisted recruit and every officer candidate must measure up to the Corps’ uncompromising high standards.  They must demonstrate that they have what it takes to serve as a US Marine.  They do this either at recruit training depots or at the officer candidate school — which is where they earn the title, MARINE.

Marines are naval infantry.  Between 1775-1900, Marines primarily served in ship’s detachments, navy yards, and provisional forces for expeditionary service ashore.  Between 1900-1940, Marines participated in irregular warfare and counter-insurgency operations in support of American foreign policy.  Conventionally, Marines served with enviable distinction in the Spanish-American War, World War I, World War II, the Korean War, the Vietnam War, and in the Middle Eastern Wars.

Organizationally, the Marine Corps is composed of its Headquarters element (Headquarters Marine Corps) (HQMC), its supporting establishments (Marine Corps Bases and Air Stations), and the Operating Forces.  The Operating forces (presently) consist of three infantry divisions, three air wings, three logistical commands, and their reserve counterparts.  The Marine Corps organizes its deployed forces as Marine Air-Ground Task Forces (MAGTFs), which range from battalion landing teams to reinforced infantry divisions.  While war strategies are matters for senior (flag rank) officers, battlefield tactics frequently fall within the purview of Marine noncommissioned officers (NCOs). 

The structure of the Marine Corps (1775-present) has been an evolutionary process.   At its beginning, Congress authorized the recruitment of two Marines battalions and directed that their officers organize them for service aboard ships of war as riflemen.  Historically, the size of the Marine Corps has expanded and contracted to meet the nation’s demands in times of peace and war.  In the Revolutionary War period, for example, the size of shipboard detachments depended on the ship’s size to which assigned. The size of the Marine Corps depended on the missions assigned to it by Congress.  Following the Revolutionary War, the new U.S. Congress determined that it could no longer afford to maintain a naval force, so both the Navy and Marine Corps disbanded between 1783-1798.  The Navy and Marine Corps have continuously served the American people since 1798; their size in ships and manpower ceilings is always a matter for the Congress to decide.

Sea Change

1898

Victory over Spain in 1898 was a pivotal event because it propelled a somewhat backwater United States onto the world stage and had a sudden and significant influence on the growth of the US Navy and Marine Corps.  With victory over Spain came vast territorial acquisitions that included the Philippine Islands, Guam, Samoa, Cuba, and Puerto Rico.  These were in addition to already existing US interests in Central America (Nicaragua and the Isthmus of Panama).  Territorial acquisition meant that the United States would have to defend these faraway places, and the only service that could do that was the US Navy — challenges never imagined before 1898.

Realizing that the post-Civil War Navy was initially out of its depth in this new world order, the Secretary of the Navy (SECNAV) established the General Board of the Navy in 1900.  The Board’s membership included the Navy’s most senior officers, men who were at the end of their careers upon whom he could rely on offering deliberate and objective analyses of world events and offering recommendations on a wide range of issues — from ship design to naval strategy and contingency planning and training.  The General Board undertook the development of war plans for responding to anticipated threats against the US East Coast, the Antilles, and, eventually, the Panama Canal.

Initially, the General Board of the Navy viewed Great Britain as a “most likely” threat to American interests and sovereignty.[1]  With greater allied cooperation with the United Kingdom, however, the General Board turned its attention toward Imperial Germany,[2] especially after Spain sold its Central Pacific territories to Imperial Germany and German military construction projects  in the Pacific and coastal China.  Japan’s victory over Imperial Russia in 1905 forced the US to consider conflict with the Japanese, as well.[3]

In late 1901, the Navy General Board demanded that (then) Major General Commandant Charles Heywood develop a four-company infantry battalion for expeditionary and advanced base defense training.  The Navy Board envisioned a Marine battalion that could rapidly deploy (ship to shore) in defense of American territories as part of the Asiatic Fleet and do so without awaiting the arrival of US Army units from the United States.  The writings of Captain Dion Williams,  (then assigned to the Office of Naval Intelligence), emphasized the importance of the Navy’s ability to refuel its ships from Pacific coaling stations.  Since it was incumbent upon the Navy to defend those advanced bases, the Navy turned to the Marine Corps for this purpose.

One achieves an understanding of warfare by reading history and then thinking about an event’s causes, its actors, what they did, why they did it, the mistakes they made, and the consequences of conflict.  Learning how to prepare for war is a bit more complicated — often involving many years of trial and error.  In 1907, a battalion under Major Eli K. Cole[4] participated in a training exercise in Subic Bay, the Philippine Islands.  It took his Marines ten weeks to set emplace 44 heavy shore battery guns.  The lesson the Marine Corps learned from this exercise pointed to the wisdom of pre-staging men and material as “rapid response” elements of the naval expeditionary forces.  Cole’s exercise prompted the Navy Board to recommend establishment of permanent advanced bases within the Navy’s defensive sphere.

In 1913, Major General Commandant William P. Biddle ordered a Marine Corps Advanced Base Force.  He named it the 1st Advanced Force Brigade.[5]  Biddle further re-designated the Brigade’s two regiments as the Fixed Defense Regiment (under the command of Lieutenant Colonel Charles G. Long)[6] and the Mobile Defense Regiment (under Colonel George Barnett).[7]

World events temporarily interfered with the Corps’ effort to improve the Advanced Base Force concept.  In 1914, the President dispatched a Marine expeditionary force to Vera Cruz, Mexico.  The Marines used this event to test and validate previously developed theories;[8] these, in turn, providing essential lessons for ongoing developments in Marine Corps force structure.

SgtMaj Dan Daly USMC

During World War I, the 4th Marine Brigade operated as one of two brigades within the US Second Infantry Division.  The 4th Marine Brigade consisted of the 5th Marine Regiment, 6th Marine Regiment, and the 6th Machine-gun Battalion.  A fully deployed combat brigade was a significant increase in overall Marine Corps strength, but the American Expeditionary Force in Europe was not the only iron in the fire.  HQMC formed an additional expeditionary brigade for service in the Caribbean and Central America during the so-called banana wars.  In 1919-1920, post war reductions in funding forced the Marine Corps to disband several infantry regiments/separate battalions.

In 1921, Major General Commandant John A. Lejeune continued the work undertaken in previous decades — work that actually continues today.  Each achievement, methodological or technological, becomes the foundation upon which new ideas emerge — and so it goes.   In 1933, creating and perfecting the Advanced Base Force led to the creation of the Fleet Marine Forces (Atlantic and Pacific) — which became an integral part of the United States Atlantic and Pacific Fleets.

The primary mission of the Fleet Marine Force (FMF) was the seizure and temporary defense of advanced bases, in concert with US fleet operations.  In the 1920s and 1930s, the United States participated in a series of naval conferences designed to reduce the likelihood of war by limiting armaments (i.e., the size of national navies).  It was, at best, a romantic assumption.  The US Congress began thinking defensively, prompting a significant reduction in the size of the military services.  Defense is not how the Marine Corps wins battles; senior Marine officers remained focused on offensive operations and defensive thinking had no appreciable impact on the readiness planning of the Fleet Marine Force.

 The vast range of US territories and the requirement to defend them continued as a vital interest to the Navy and as a primary responsibility of the Marine Corps.  A formal review of responsibilities assigned to the Army and Navy, designed to avoid duplication of effort, determined that the Army should confine itself to continental land operations. The Navy should focus its attention on the security of overseas territories and possessions.

By 1937, the Navy began to consider creating Marine Corps security detachments, particularly at vulnerable locations in the Pacific, in conjunction with Plan Orange.  Initially, the Navy Board envisioned security detachments as battalion-sized organizations.  In 1938, the Navy Board recommended the placement of defense battalions at Midway, Wake, and Johnston Islands —in sufficient strength and size to repel minor naval raids.

Defense battalions were coastal artillery units armed with 5-inch guns (6), anti-aircraft guns (12), machine guns (48 .30 caliber) (48 .50 caliber), searchlights (6), and sound locators (6).  The Battalion’s usual complement involved 28 officers and 482 enlisted men, but a battalion’s size depended on the specific size of the area the battalion was charged to defend.  Once ashore, owing to the size of naval guns, the Battalion would become “immobile.”  In effect, once defense battalions assumed their positions, there would be no retreat.[9]

Initially, the Marine Corps envisioned four defense battalions; their importance (in relation to the Marine Corps as a whole) was significant.  Of the Corps’ total strength (27,000 officers and enlisted men), 9,000 Marines would serve as part of the Fleet Marine Force, and 2,844 of those would serve in defense battalions.

Defense battalions began to form in late 1939.  By 7 December 1941, there were seven active battalions: the 1st, 2nd, 6th, and 7th formed at Marine Corps Base, San Diego, California; the 3rd, 4th, and 5th formed at Parris Island, South Carolina.  The 5th Defense Battalion was the first such battalion to deploy to a potentially hostile shore.

Under the command of Colonel Lloyd L. Leech, the 5th Defense Battalion deployed to Iceland in June 1941 as part of the 1st Marine Brigade (Provisional).  In addition to the 5th Defense Battalion, the Brigade included the 6th Marines, 2nd Battalion, 10th Marines, and various other supporting units to reinforce British forces charged with blocking any German attempt to seize Iceland.  To facilitate training and instruction for the American Marines, the brigade commander assented to the 5th Defense Battalion’s incorporation into the British air defense system.

Over time, it became increasingly unlikely that Germany would seize Iceland.  However, while the Pacific command urgently needed the 1st Brigade, its eventual reassignment was contingent upon the arrival in Iceland US Army units to replace the Marines.  Before Pearl Harbor, statutory provisions precluded the assignment of non-volunteer troops to overseas locations.  Army conscripts could not serve in Iceland until a state of war existed between the United States and its adversaries.  The Brigade was finally relieved by Army units in March 1942.

Of the remaining defense battalions, all but one (2nd) deployed to the Pacific before Pearl Harbor.  The 2nd Defense Battalion, under Lieutenant Colonel Raymond E. Knapp, joined the 2nd Marine Brigade in Samoa in January 1942.  Already serving in Samoa was the 7th Defense Battalion, under Lieutenant Colonel Lester A. Dessez.[10]  The 7th Defense Battalion was the first FMF unit to operate in the South Pacific theater of operations.

The 3rd Defense Battalion formed in late 1939.  After initial training, the Battalion embarked for Pearl Harbor in April 1940.  In September, the Commanding General, Fleet Marine Force, Pacific ordered elements of the Battalion to Midway Island.  The entire Battalion reformed at Midway in February 1941.  In September 1941, the 6th Defense Battalion replaced the 3rd Battalion at Midway, which then returned to Hawaii and participated in defense of Pearl Harbor. Also, in Hawaii on 7 December 1941, was the 1st Defense Battalion, Lieutenant Colonel Bert A. Bone, and the 4th Defense Battalion, under Colonel Harold S. Fassett. 

The preceding may seem like an orderly process, but it was far from that.  Moving large numbers of Marines and their heavy (and expensive) equipment is never easy, rarely tidy, and always compounded by higher headquarters.  For instance, in 1939, the 1st Defense Battalion formed by renaming the 2nd Battalion, 15th Marines, and then reorganizing it, re-equipping it, and re-positioning it to serve in its new role.  In February 1941, the 1st Defense Battalion arrived at Pearl Harbor from San Diego.  No sooner had the Battalion arrived when higher authority split it apart into subunits and redistributed them throughout the Central Pacific.  FMF Pacific (also, FMFPac) dispatched Detachment A, 1st Defense Battalion to Palmyra Island (arriving 10 March).  A month later, HQMC renamed the unit “Marine Detachment, 1st Marine Defense Battalion, Palmyra Island.” Additional subunits became Marine Detachments at Johnston (mid-July) and Wake (late-July).  Thus, on 7 December 1941, the 1st Defense Battalion had subunits on three atolls with their headquarters element remaining at Pearl Harbor.

By early December, Marine defense battalions defended Midway, Johnston, Palmyra, Samoa, and Wake.  The global war plan, then in effect, renamed “Rainbow Five,” called for the development of air bases at all these sites.  After 7 December, the United States had to concede Guam (and its small naval facility) to the Japanese owing to its position in the center of the Japanese-held Marianas Island group.  The Navy’s intention behind creating these small forward bases was two-fold.  Samoa would help protect communication routes in the Southwest Pacific; Midway, Johnston, Palmyra, and Wake were offered for the protection of Oahu installations.  None of the forward bases provided much protection, however.

At Pearl Harbor

Japan’s attack on Pearl Harbor started at 0755 on 7 December 1941.  The assault lasted two hours.  The defense battalions offered limited (and generally ineffective) opposition to Japanese forces.  This generally poor performance was not the fault of the defense battalions, however.  Japan’s attack was a surprise event well-timed for Sunday morning.  Accordingly, all US responses were haphazard. 

Before the Japanese attack, the United States was already preparing for hostilities — albeit with only limited intelligence information.  Hawaii-based commanders heard nothing from Washington beyond cautionary advice.  Reacting with caution, senior commanders ordered all munitions secured at widely dispersed locations.  Motor vehicles were carefully stored in are motor pools, berthed ships and parked aircraft were lined up neatly for ease of monitoring security — in case Japanese agents attempted to sabotage American military equipment.  When the Japanese attacked, air defense positions had no ammunition with which to shoot down enemy planes.  Within a few moments of the attack, air and ground commanders ordered munitions, but there  were no vehicles available to transport it.  By the time ammunition did arrive, the Japanese attack was over.

Within six minutes of the beginning of the Japanese attack, Marines from the defense battalion had machine guns set up and engaged the enemy.  These were the only weapons used in the defense of Pearl Harbor.  It was a bit too little. 

Within mere hours after Japan’s attack, Navy and Marine commanders took steps to reinforce outlying island garrisons, rushing substantial numbers of Marines to Midway, Johnston, and Palmyra.  These Marines and their equipment came from the 1st, 3rd, and 4th Defense Battalions. Midway’s assets included 17 Scout/Bombers, ferried to the island commander via the aircraft carrier USS Lexington.  Once the ship returned to Pearl Harbor, additional flights were direct over-ocean movements.  The distance from Pearl Harbor to Midway was 1,137 miles.

Guam

The situation on Guam was bleak.  Lieutenant Colonel William K. McNulty’s 122 Marines (and 15 additional Marines serving on detached duty with the Guamanian Police Force) were overwhelmed by Japanese forces.

Johnston Island

Johnston Island, a spec of sand in the middle of the ocean, was too small and too close to the Hawaiian Islands to risk a land assault, but it was a tempting target.  Major Francis B. Loomis, serving as the 1st Defense Battalion executive officer, was present at Johnston Island when the Japanese made their move against Pearl Harbor.  As the senior officer present, Loomis assumed overall command of American military assets.

The first contact the Johnson Island Marines had with the Japanese occurred on 12 December when a submarine surfaced  8,000 yards off Sand Island and began firing green star clusters, which exploded high overhead.  Marines returned fire with a 5-inch gun, and the submarine withdrew.  Three days later, two Japanese ships opened fire and damaged several buildings and an oil storage facility.  Again, the Marines answered with a 5-inch gun, and the enemy ships withdrew before suffering any damage.  On the nights of 18, 21, and 22 December, enemy submarines returned to deliver harassing fire.  By the end of the month, reinforcements arrived from Hawaii, adding another 5-inch battery, another 3-inch battery, and 16 more machine guns —but the Marines heard no more from the Japanese for the duration of the war.

Palmyra Island

Palmyra Island experienced a single Japanese attack on 24 December.  A Japanese submarine surfaced 3,000 yards offshore and fired its deck guns at a dredge in the lagoon.  The 5-inch battery drove the submarine away.  Lieutenant Colonel Bone, commanding the 1st Defense Battalion, arrived with reinforcements at the end of December.  The Palmyra garrison became 1st Defensive Battalion in March.  Spreading Marines all over the Central Pacific had the effect of diminishing unit cohesiveness within the defense battalions.  To solve this problem, local commands absorbed the various “detachments” into their organizations.

Wake Island

By mid-December world attention was focused on events unfolding at Wake Island.  The unfolding battle electrified everyone.  On 7 December 1941, the Wake Island detachment totaled barely 400 officers and men, including 9 officers and 200 enlisted men who had only joined the detachment in the previous month.  The detachment commander was Major James P. S. Devereux.  The Island’s air support squadron included 12 F4F-3 Wildcats of Major Paul A. Putnam’s VMF-211 detachment, which arrived on 4 December.[11]  Putnam reported to Devereux, who reported to the Island Commander, Commander Winfield S. Cunningham, USN.

There were no optimists among the Marines of Wake Island.  Devereux’s detachment was understrength; one battery of 3-inch guns was completely unmanned.  Two other batteries could field only three of four guns (each), and Echo Battery had no height-finding equipment.  Ground and anti-air crew-served weapons were only half manned.  The detachment had no radar and no sound-locator equipment.  By the time Wake Marines learned of the Japanese attack at Pearl Harbor, VMF-211’s dawn patrol was already aloft.  Putnam dispersed his remaining aircraft, and the detachment’s Marines manned their posts.

Shortly before noon on 8 December (Wake Island was in a different date-time-zone from Hawaii), 36 Japanese bombers attacked Wake Island, their bomb load mostly hitting the airstrip where seven of the eight parked Wildcats were destroyed, exploding aviation gas storage tanks, and killing 23 of the 55 enlisted aviation ground crewmen.  The bombers returned each day for the next six days, always at the same time of day.  Each day, the Japanese inflicted more damage and took more lives.  At 0300 on 11 December, a Japanese assault force appeared offshore.  Warships moved in after dawn to begin raking fire prelude to troop landings.  By 0615, the Marines had severely damaged the cruiser Yubari and sunk the destroyer Havate.  Additionally, Marines damaged a light cruiser, two destroyers, and a troop transport.  The Japanese withdrew to Kwajalein Island.

In the following week, Marines lost an additional three aircraft to Japanese bombers, half their trucks, and engineering equipment, most of their diesel fuel and dynamite, and the motor pool, warehouse, machine shop, and the blacksmith shop was wholly destroyed.  The Japanese destroyed the last two Wildcats on 22 December during aerial combat.  By this time, the Marines at Wake Island were running a pool on their expected shelf-life.

At dawn on 23 December, another Japanese assault force appeared offshore.  One-thousand Imperial Japanese Army and 500 Imperial Japanese Navy prepared to land on Wake Island.  Marines engaged the first wave of Japanese at 0245, but none of the 5-inch guns were able to take destroyers/transports under fire.  The 3-inch guns inflicted some damage, but not enough to hinder the landing.  Lacking any infantry support, overwhelming Japanese forces pushed the Marines back to secondary defensive positions.  Gun crews, in defending themselves, had to forsake the big guns.  By 0500, the Marines realized that the dance was about over.  At dawn, enemy carrier-based fighters and bombers arrived overhead.  Devereux advised Cunningham that he could no longer maintain organized resistance.  With Cunningham’s concurrence, Devereux surrendered his force to the Japanese landing force commander.

The story of Wilkes Island unfolded differently, however.  At Wilkes, the battle raged so fiercely that at daybreak, Captain Wesley Mc. Platt[12] not only destroyed the Japanese landing party after the initial Japanese assault, but he also reorganized his men and ordered a ruthless counterattack, killing every Japanese soldier he could find, one after another.  Captain Platt was out of contact with Devereux and did not know of the surrender until around 1330 when Platt saw Devereux approaching a Japanese officer.  Platt was not a happy camper, but he obeyed Major Devereux’s order to relinquish his arms to the Japanese.

Midway

Admiral Yamamoto’s plan for seizing Midway Island was typically complex.[13]  He also based his assumptions on faulty intelligence.  He believed that only two aircraft carriers were available to the Pacific Fleet after the Battle of the Coral Sea in May 1942.  After the repair of USS Yorktown, the Navy had three carriers: Enterprise, Hornet, and Yorktown.  He also misread the morale of  the US Armed Forces and the general American population.  Admiral Yamamoto was a crafty fellow, but he did not know that the Americans had broken the naval code.  The key for the Americans was learning that the Japanese designation of Midway Island was JN-25.

Lieutenant Colonel Harold D. Shannon ordered his 6th Defense Battalion to “general quarters” as soon as he learned of the Japanese attack at Wake Island.  It was a sensibly prudent order, but its effect was that it kept his Marines on edge for an extended period.  No action developed that day, but shortly after dark, the Japanese destroyers Akebono and Ushio arrived offshore.  Their mission was to harass the Island’s defenders and determine the placement of Marine shore batteries.  Two Japanese rounds hit the Island’s power plant and disrupted the communications center.[14]  As the two ships set up for their second run into the beach, Shannon ordered his Marines to engage enemy targets at will.  Battery A’s 5-inch guns remained silent due to the break down in communications, but Battery B and Battery D opened up with their 5-inch naval artillery and 3-inch anti-aircraft guns.  The .50 caliber machine-guns fired once the destroyers were within range.  The Japanese ships withdrew shortly afterward.

Reinforcements and resupply soon arrived from Hawaii.  Among the heavy weapons were 7-inch guns removed from World War I ships that had been in storage for many years.  Midway Island was well-armed and adequately manned to repel an enemy assault; the American defenders responded to several Japanese probing raids early in 1942.  Aviation assets at Midway included both Navy and Marine Corps combat aircraft.  The Navy had four PBY squadrons (31 Patrol planes), and six Grumman TBF Avengers from VT-8.  Marine Corps aircraft included Scout/Bomber squadron VMSB-231 (17 SB2U-3 Vindicators), and the remainder of VMF-221 (arriving at Midway from USS Saratoga with 14 F2A-3 Brewster Buffaloes).  Following the Battle of the Coral Sea, the Pacific Fleet quickly replaced lost aircrews with additional Navy and Marine Corps air squadrons.

In May 1942, FMFPac reinforced the 6th Defense Battalion with three additional 3-inch batteries, a 37-mm anti-aircraft battery, a 20-mm anti-aircraft battery, and two rifle companies from the 2nd Raider Battalion with five light tanks in direct support.  FMFPac ordered all Marine aircraft at Midway consolidated under Marine Aircraft Group (MAG)-22.  The MAG received 16 SMD-2 Dauntless Diver Bombers and seven Grumman Wildcat fighters.

As the Battle of Midway Island began on 4 June 1942, it became apparent that the defense of the atoll was of secondary importance to the air engagements at sea, but Midway was the bait that had drawn Yamamoto’s task forces within range of US carrier aircraft.  The Marines ashore were, however, ready for any eventuality.  PBYs from Midway first spotted Japanese naval units at 0900 on 3 June.  Army B-17s launched that afternoon to bomb the Japanese fleet, but none of the bombs hit their targets.  At 0545 on 4 June, Navy PBYs fixed an approaching air assault position consisting of over 100 Japanese torpedo, dive bombers, and escort fighters (numbers estimated).  US aircraft were in the air within ten minutes to intercept them.  Japanese Zeros easily destroyed Marine buffaloes, but not without losing several bombers and fighters of their own.  The survivors arrived over Midway at around 0630.  The Japanese attacked lasted thirty minutes.  Marine anti-air defenses claimed ten kills and seemed anti-climactic, but Japan’s air assault was what the Navy fleet commander wanted.  As these planes returned to their carriers, US aircraft followed them.

The Battle of Midway’s significance was that it signaled the end of the United States’ defensive war and the beginning of America’s offensive.  In these early days of a long war, the Defense Battalions’ Marines had played their role and contributed to the war effort.  With the arrival of additional Marines, most of whom had enlisted after the attack on Pearl Harbor, many found their way into the Defense Battalions.  By the end of 1942, the Marine Corps had 14 defense battalions.  Two years later, there were twenty such battalions.

Guadalcanal and beyond

The assault of Guadalcanal was the first American land offensive in the Pacific war.  The 3rd Defense Battalion provided support to the 1st Marine Division’s landing.  The landing force commander split the Battalion to support simultaneous operations at Guadalcanal and Tulagi.  The Battalion’s machine-gun sections and 90-mm anti-aircraft guns[15] went ashore in the first assault waves.  Similarly, the 9th Defense Battalion supported the assault on the Munda Peninsula in July 1943.  By this time, defense battalions employed 155-mm and 40-mm guns.  On Vella Lavella, the 4th Defense Battalion’s 90-mm gun was the Japanese pilot’s worst nightmare.  Both the 9th and 14th Defense Battalion went ashore with the landing forces at Guam in 1944.  When Japanese aircraft were no longer capable of threatening Marine occupied terrain, senior officers decided that the battalions had served their purpose.  HQMC disbanded most defense battalions after the war —but one (sort of) remains today.  One Marine responsibility at Guantanamo Bay, Cuba, is to defend the naval base.  This mission is similar to that of the World War II-era defense battalion.

Sources:

  1. Cole, E. K.  Advanced Base Force Training.  Philadelphia: 1915.
  2. Davis, H. C.  Advanced Place Training.  Annapolis: Naval Institute Press, 1911.
  3. Jackson, R. H.  History of the Advanced Base.  Records of the General Board of the Navy, 1913.
  4. Jackson, R. H.  The Naval Advanced Base. Records of the General Board of the Navy, 1915.
  5. McBride, W. M.  Technological Change and the United States Navy, 1865-1945.  Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 2001.
  6. Millett, A. R.  Semper Fidelis: The History of the United States Marine Corps.  New York: The Free Press, 1991.
  7. Simmons, E. H.  The United States Marines: A History.  Annapolis: Naval Institute Press, 1974.

Endnotes:

[1] Incorporated as War Plan Red.

[2] Incorporated as War Plan Black.

[3] Incorporated as War Plan Orange.

[4] Eli Kelley Cole (1867-1929) graduated from the US Naval Academy in 1888, served as a naval officer for two years, and transferred to the US Marine Corps in 1890.  In 1915, Cole, Williams, Earl H. Ellis, John H. Russell, and Robert H. Dunlap were the Marine Corps’ deepest thinkers.  While commanding the 1st Provisional Brigade in Haiti, he received the Navy Cross Medal.  He later commanded the US Army’s 41st Infantry Division during World War I, and served as the first Assistant Commandant of the Marine Corps.  He passed away while still serving on active duty.

[5] The forebear of the 1st Marine Division.

[6] Designated 2nd Regiment, Advance Base Brigade on 18 February 1914 (today, 1st Marines).

[7] Designated 1st Regiment, Advance Base Brigade on 18 February 1914 (today, 2nd Marines).

[8] Fleet exercises were important rehearsals in the development of amphibious warfare and the establishment of advanced base defenses, including the art and science of loading/un-loading ships, transfer of equipment from ship to shore, employment of shore artillery, signal science, combat engineering, harbor construction/defense, and the employment of automatic weapons.

[9] See also, Wake Island (in three parts).

[10] Colonel Dessez’ also formed and trained the 1st Samoan Battalion (infantry) (territorial reserve).

[11] One of Putnam’s flight officers was Captain Frank C. Tharin, a graduate of the US Naval Academy (1934).  While serving on Wake Island, Tharin distinguished himself through his courage and aeronautical skill against overwhelming Japanese air forces.  He was a recipient of the Distinguished Flying Cross, Silver Star Medal, and two Air Medals.  Tharin spend the war in a Japanese POW camp.  I worked for LtGen Tharin in 1968 at a time when Tharin served as the Operations Deputy to the Commandant of the Marine Corps.  General Tharin passed away in 1990.

[12] Wesley McCoy Platt survived the war as a POW.  The United States subsequently awarded him the Silver Star Medal, Legion of Merit, and Purple Heart Medal.  During the Korean War, Colonel Platt died of wounds while serving on the staff of Major General Oliver P. Smith, USMC, who commanded the 1st Marine Division at the Chosin Reservoir.

[13] Warfare is by its nature complex; overly complicated war plans simply increase the likelihood of failure at critical moments of the battle.  

[14] First Lieutenant George H. Cannon, a communications officer, received severe wounds from Japanese guns but he refused evacuation until the communications center was once more up and running.  Cannon died shortly afterwards. He received the Medal of Honor posthumously, the first Marine to receive the nation’s highest medal during World War II.

[15] The round of the 90-mm gun weighed 23 pounds.  It had a maximum range of 39,500 feet.


One Face of War

Private First Class John Wilson Hoffman, USMC

Lott, Texas is a small town in Falls County.  The settlement began in 1889 with the construction of the San Antonio & Aransas Pass Railroad.  The town was named after Uriah Lott, who at the time was president of the railroad company.  In 1889, the settlement involved a total of around two-hundred folks.  They were church-going people, as evidenced by the fact that Lott, Texas had three churches in 1892.  There were also two cotton gins, and two gristmills.  In 1892, there were 350 people living in Lott and by then the town had a weekly newspaper.  In eight more years, the town had grown to 1,200 citizens.  Besides those working for the railroad, there were local farmers who raised corn and cotton.

But Lott was typical of small Texas towns.  Economic conditions were meager, and folks scratched out their existence through hard work barely rewarded.  And, as with most other Texas communities, the Great Depression took its toll and people began to move away.  In 1930, only 650 people were recorded living there in the national census.  Roosevelt’s Public Works Administration helped, of course.  Government subsidies encouraged diversification from farming into stock raising and truck farming.  Even now, though, economic opportunities are limited, and the town relies heavily on the speed trap along State Highway 44/US Highway 77.  In 2010, 759 people lived in Lott, Texas.

One of its citizens, born and raised for a time in Lott, was John Wilson Hoffman.  One of four children, John was born in 1922.  His parents, John Wilson Hoffman, Sr., and Sadie Hoffman, moved their family to Houston in 1929.  John graduated from Stephen F. Austin High School in the class of 1940 and the 18-year old went to work for Lindle Air Products Company as a shipping clerk.  In August 1942, John was 20-years-old, the nation was at war, and the young patriot John Wilson Hoffman, Jr. joined the United States Marine Corps.

J. W. Hoffman

After recruit training, the Marines assigned Hoffman to the 18th Marine Regiment — combat engineers with the 2nd Marine Division.  The regiment was not slated to participate in the Battle of Guadalcanal, but the 6th Marine Regiment was organizing and needed men to fill their ranks.  In mid-December 1942, John Hoffman was one of several dozen engineers transferred to the 6th Marines and Hoffman ended up in Lima Company, 3/6.  The regiment shipped out to New Zealand for pre-combat training.

The ladies of New Zealand are lovely to look at, and young Marines are easy to fall in love — as did John W. Hoffman, and he was so much in love with his New Zealand lassie that he didn’t want to leave her.  When 3/6 sailed for the Solomon Islands, John was not among them.  In fact, no one saw Hoffman again until 7 January 1943, when he surrendered to New Zealand police in Wellington.

When 3/6 returned from Guadalcanal in late February 1943, Hoffman was waiting for them at Camp Russell.  Hoffman received a court-martial for missing his movement.  During war, this is a serious offense — but it could have been worse.  Had his superiors charged him with desertion in time of war, he may have faced a death penalty.  Hoffman was found guilty of “missing movement,” and sentenced to ninety days in the brig.  He was also fined $15.00 per month for three months.  It doesn’t seem like much of a fine, but Hoffman was only making $50/month in 1943.

After three months of confinement in a Marine Corps brig, Hoffman was a changed man.  Upon release, he returned to his unit, stayed out of trouble, and applied himself to combat training.  His transformation from a love-starved puppy to a fighting grunt was so impressive that his company commander promoted him to Private First Class (PFC).

John Hoffman had become a “squared away” Marine.  When Lima Company mustered for their next combat assignment, John Hoffman was present and accounted for.  What no one in Lima Company knew was that their next assignment would take them to a tiny atoll in the middle of a very large ocean.  The atoll had a name — Tarawa.  The island was Betio.

Far above the station of mere privates, America’s war planners had been looking for an air base capable of supporting operations across the mid-Pacific — to the Philippines in the South, and to Japan in the North.  The need for advanced bases led these war planners to focus their attention on the Mariana Islands, which at the time were heavily defended by the Imperial Japanese Army and Navy.  Before the US could seize the Marianas group, they would have to control the Marshall Islands, but the Marshalls were cut off from direct communications with Hawaii by a Japanese garrison  on the small island of Betio, on the western side of the Tarawa Atoll in the Gilbert Islands.  Before the Americans could concentrate on the Mariana Islands, they would have to neutralize the Japanese on Betio.

Betio Island is Tarawa’s largest.  It is located about 2,400 miles southwest of Pearl Harbor.  Despite its size on the atoll, it is infinitesimally small.  It is a flat island, two miles long, triangle shaped, and at its widest point, only 800 yards from shore to shore.

If Evans Carlson’s diversionary raid at Makin Island accomplished anything at all, besides getting good Marines killed, it was that it sent a signal to the Imperial Japanese that their Island defenses were vulnerable to American attack — and that the Americans viewed the Gilbert Islands as an important objective. 

Thus warned, the Japanese reinforced Betio with its 6th Special Landing Force (Japanese Marines).  In total, the Japanese island commander, Rear Admiral Tomonari Saichiro, commanded 5,000 defenders.  An experienced engineer, Saichiro directed the construction of the Betio defenses.  Saichiro’s plan was to stop the Americans before they reached the island’s shore; and if that failed, then to make the American’s pay dearly for their audacity.  The Evans Carlson gave the Japanese a year to perfect Betio Island’s defenses.

The Gilbert Islands campaign was the largest invasion force yet assembled for a single operation in the Pacific.  There were seventeen aircraft carriers, twelve battleships, twelve cruisers, sixty-six destroyers, and thirty-six troop transports.  Aboard the transports were the 2nd Marine Division and the US 27th Infantry Division — totaling 35,000 troops.  The Marines began their assault at 0900 on 20 November 1943.  The 6th Marines, under the command of Colonel Maurice G. Holmes, would dedicate the 1st Battalion (William K. Jones, commanding) and 3rd Battalion (Kenneth F. McLeod, commanding) in the third and fourth wave assaults at Green Beach.[1]

It was at Green Beach, during the fourth wave attack, that Private First Class John Wilson Hoffman, Jr., met his end.  As Lima Company moved up to relieve elements of the 1st Battalion, an enemy bullet found Hoffman and instantly killed him.  The Marines of Lima Company gently laid his body to rest along with thirty other members of his company.  They did their best to mark the grave site as lethal battle raged around them and the Marines continued to move forward under heavy Japanese resistance.  It was a horrific battle.  The movement of tanks, artillery, and troops soon obliterated the grave marker.

As with so many other Marines who died at Betio over a period of 72-hours — 1,009 killed, 2,101 wounded — the Marine Corps eventually notified Hoffman’s parents that their son’s remains were unrecoverable.  History Flight[2] recovered John Hoffman’s body, where it had lain undisturbed on Betio Island for 76 years.  John Hoffman finally came back home to Texas in the spring of 2020.  There was no one left alive in John’s family who remembered him.

Some gave all.

Sources:

  1. Alexander, J. H.  Utmost Savagery: The Three Days of Tarawa.  Annapolis: Naval Institute Press, 1995.
  2. Graham, M. B.  Mantle of Heroism: Tarawa and the Struggle for the Gilberts.  Presidio Press, 1998.
  3. Hammel, E. & J. E. Lane.  Bloody Tarawa.  Zenith Press, 1998.
  4. Smith, H. M.  Coral and Brass.  New York: Scribeners & Sons, 1949.

Endnotes:

[1] The 2nd Battalion (Raymond G. Murray, commanding) was assigned to assault and occupy the outer islands of Tarawa.  Murray later commanded the 5th Marines during the Battle of the Pusan Perimeter during the Korean War and in that capacity, participated in the Battle of the Chosin Reservoir.  Both Jones and Murray achieved flag rank with Jones retiring as a lieutenant general and Murray as a major general.

[2] History Flight is a privately operated non-profit organization dedicated to researching, recovering, and repatriating the remains of American servicemen from World War II through the Vietnam War period.  Since 2003, History Flight has recovered 130 missing servicemen in both the ETO and PTO.  John Hoffman’s remains were one of these.