Leadership, Moral Courage, and Duty

Recently, a number of bloggers and pundits have brought into question certain decisions and actions of our senior military leaders.  Bloggers are by now famous for basing their opinions on something other than a complete understanding of how the military works, which is further complicated because some commenters offer their views without knowing all the facts.

For example, while it is true that the President is the Commander-in-Chief of our Armed Forces, the President does not become involved in every situation that challenges our joint/unified commanders.  A drone attack against suspected Taliban targets would not have warranted presidential involvement, but it may take the president’s authorization to bomb targets in Syria.  There are different protocols for a wide range of situations.

Additionally, political biases too often drive a pundit’s opinions.  It is a situation begging for intellectual dishonesty, and it does nothing to enhance the average citizen’s understanding of events in far-off lands.  If we criticize our senior military leaders, we must base our reproach on what transpires rather than what we think might have happened.

Still, there remains a question about the politicization of our Armed Forces, particularly among our flag officers (generals and admirals, one through four-star officers).  Are they knuckling under to the inexperienced (and often, incredibly flawed) dictates of civilian leadership to achieve promotion and plum assignments?   There is some justification for this concern, particularly in the argument that senior officers have acquiesced to demands for social engineering as a priority over the prime directive, which is the combat readiness of our armed forces and their operational efficiency.

There is nothing I can write that would be an improvement over the speech delivered by Douglas MacArthur at the U. S. Military Academy on 12 May 1962.  General MacArthur’s wise counsel follows sixty-one years of active service.  He had been retired only eleven years when he gave his address.  In my view, MacArthur’s remarks offer a clear view of what our senior-most military officers ought to be, how they should govern themselves while wearing the uniform of an active-duty officer, and how they should behave once retired.  But it is also my view that General MacArthur spoke to all military leaders, from the most junior non-commissioned officer to the highest-ranking commissioned officer.  Thus, the following words apply as much to leaders today as they did on the day of General MacArthur’s retirement.

General of the Army Douglas A. MacArthur

Sylvanus Thayer Award Acceptance Speech

12 May 1962

____________

General Westmoreland, General Grove, distinguished guests, and gentlemen of the Corps!

As I was leaving the hotel this morning, a doorman asked me, “Where are you bound for, General?” And when I replied, “West Point,” he remarked, “Beautiful place. Have you ever been there before?”

No human being could fail to be deeply moved by such a tribute as this [Thayer Award].  Coming from a profession I have served so long, and a people I have loved so well, it fills me with an emotion I cannot express.  But this award is not intended primarily to honor a personality, but to symbolize a great moral code — the code of conduct and chivalry of those who guard this beloved land of culture and ancient descent.  That is the animation of this medallion.  For all eyes and for all time, it is an expression of the ethics of the American soldier.  That I should be integrated in this way with so noble an ideal arouses a sense of pride and yet of humility which will be with me always.

Duty, Honor, Country

Those three hallowed words reverently dictate what you ought to be, what you can be, what you will be.  They are your rallying points: to build courage when courage seems to fail; to regain faith when there seems to be little cause for faith; to create hope when hope becomes forlorn.

Unhappily, I possess neither that eloquence of diction, that poetry of imagination, nor that brilliance of metaphor to tell you all that they mean.

The unbelievers will say they are but words, but a slogan, but a flamboyant phrase.  Every pedant, every demagogue, every cynic, every hypocrite, every troublemaker, and I am sorry to say, some others of an entirely different character will try to downgrade them even to the extent of mockery and ridicule.

But these are some of the things they do: They build your basic character.  They mold you for your future roles as the custodians of the nation’s defense.  They make you strong enough to know when you are weak, and brave enough to face yourself when you are afraid.  They teach you to be proud and unbending in honest failure, but humble and gentle in success; not to substitute words for actions, not to seek the path of comfort, but to face the stress and spur of difficulty and challenge; to learn to stand up in the storm but to have compassion on those who fall; to master yourself before you seek to master others; to have a heart that is clean, a goal that is high; to learn to laugh, yet never forget how to weep; to reach into the future yet never neglect the past; to be serious yet never to take yourself too seriously; to be modest so that you will remember the simplicity of true greatness, the open mind of true wisdom, the meekness of true strength.

They give you a temper of the will, a quality of the imagination, a vigor of the emotions, a freshness of the deep springs of life, a temperamental predominance of courage over timidity, of an appetite for adventure over the love of ease.  They create in your heart the sense of wonder, the unfailing hope of what is next, and the joy and inspiration of life.  They teach you in this way to be an officer and a gentleman.

And what sort of soldiers are those you are to lead?  Are they reliable?  Are they brave?  Are they capable of victory?  Their story is known to all of you.  It is the story of the American man-at-arms.  My estimate of him was formed on the battlefield many, many years ago, and has never changed.  I regarded him then as I regard him now — as one of the world’s noblest figures, not only as one of the finest military characters but also as one of the most stainless.  His name and fame are the birthright of every American citizen.  In his youth and strength, his love and loyalty, he gave all that mortality can give.

He needs no eulogy from me or from any other man.  He has written his own history and written it in red on his enemy’s breast.  But when I think of his patience under adversity, of his courage under fire, and of his modesty in victory, I am filled with an emotion of admiration I cannot put into words.  He belongs to history as furnishing one of the greatest examples of successful patriotism.  He belongs to posterity as the instructor of future generations in the principles of liberty and freedom.  He belongs to the present, to us, by his virtues and by his achievements.  In 20 campaigns, on a hundred battlefields, around a thousand campfires, I have witnessed that enduring fortitude, that patriotic self-abnegation, and that invincible determination which have carved his statue in the hearts of his people.  From one end of the world to the other he has drained deep the chalice of courage.

As I listened to those [old] songs, in memory’s eye I could see those staggering columns of the First World War, bending under soggy packs, on many a weary march from dripping dusk to drizzling dawn, slogging ankle-deep through the mire of shell-shocked roads, to form grimly for the attack, blue-lipped, covered with sludge and mud, chilled by the wind and rain, driving home to their objective, and for many, to the judgment seat of God.

I do not know the dignity of their birth, but I do know the glory of their death.  They died unquestioning, uncomplaining, with faith in their hearts, and on their lips the hope that we would go on to victory. Always, for them: Duty, Honor, Country; always their blood and sweat and tears, as we sought the way and the light and the truth.

And 20 years after, on the other side of the globe, again the filth of murky foxholes, the stench of ghostly trenches, the slime of dripping dugouts; those boiling suns of relentless heat, those torrential rains of devastating storms; the loneliness and utter desolation of jungle trails; the bitterness of long separation from those they loved and cherished; the deadly pestilence of tropical disease; the horror of stricken areas of war; their resolute and determined defense, their swift and sure attack, their indomitable purpose, their complete and decisive victory — always victory.  Always through the bloody haze of their last reverberating shot, the vision of gaunt, ghastly men reverently following your password: Duty, Honor, Country.

The code which those words perpetuate embraces the highest moral laws and will stand the test of any ethics or philosophies ever promulgated for the uplift of mankind.  Its requirements are for the things that are right, and its restraints are for the things that are wrong.

The soldier, above all other men, is required to practice the greatest act of religious training — sacrifice.

In battle and in the face of danger and death, he discloses those divine attributes which his Maker gave when he created man in his own image.  No physical courage and no brute instinct can take the place of the Divine help which alone can sustain him.

However horrible the incidents of war may be, the soldier who is called upon to offer and to give his life for his country is the noblest development of mankind.

You now face a new world — a world of change.  The thrust into outer space of the satellite, spheres, and missiles mark the beginning of another epoch in the long story of mankind. In the five or more billions of years, the scientists tell us it has taken to form the earth, in the three or more billion years of development of the human race, there has never been a more abrupt or staggering evolution.  We deal now not with things of this world alone, but with the illimitable distances and as yet unfathomed mysteries of the universe.  We are reaching out for a new and boundless frontier.

We speak in strange terms: of harnessing the cosmic energy; of making winds and tides work for us; of creating unheard synthetic materials to supplement or even replace our old standard basics; to purify seawater for our drink; of mining ocean floors for new fields of wealth and food; of disease preventatives to expand life into the hundreds of years; of controlling the weather for a more equitable distribution of heat and cold, of rain and shine; of space ships to the moon; of the primary target in war, no longer limited to the armed forces of an enemy, but instead to include his civil populations; of ultimate conflict between a united human race and the sinister forces of some other planetary galaxy; of such dreams and fantasies as to make life the most exciting of all time.

And through all this welter of change and development, your mission remains fixed, determined, inviolable: it is to win our wars.

Everything else in your professional career is but corollary to this vital dedication.  All other public purposes, all other public projects, all other public needs, great or small, will find others for their accomplishment.  But you are the ones who are trained to fight.  Yours is the profession of arms, the will to win, the sure knowledge that in war there is no substitute for victory; that if you lose, the nation will be destroyed; that the very obsession of your public service must be: Duty, Honor, Country.

Others will debate the controversial issues, national and international, which divide men’s minds; but serene, calm, aloof, you stand as the Nation’s war guardian, as its lifeguard from the raging tides of international conflict, as its gladiator in the arena of battle.  For a century and a half, you have defended, guarded, and protected its hallowed traditions of liberty and freedom, of right and justice.

Let civilian voices argue the merits or demerits of our processes of government; whether our strength is being sapped by deficit financing, indulged in too long, by federal paternalism grown too mighty, by power groups grown too arrogant, by politics grown too corrupt, by crime grown too rampant, by morals grown too low, by taxes grown too high, by extremists grown too violent; whether our personal liberties are as thorough and complete as they should be.  These great national problems are not for your professional participation or military solution.  Your guidepost stands out like a ten-fold beacon in the night: Duty, Honor, Country.

You are the leaven that binds together the entire fabric of our national system of defense.  From your ranks come the great captains who hold the nation’s destiny in their hands the moment the war tocsin sounds.  The Long Gray Line has never failed us.  Were you to do so, a million ghosts in olive drab, in brown khaki, in blue and gray, would rise from their white crosses thundering those magic words: Duty, Honor, Country.

This does not mean that you are warmongers.

On the contrary, the soldier, above all other people, prays for peace, for he must suffer and bear the deepest wounds and scars of war.

But always in our ears ring the ominous words of Plato, that wisest of all philosophers: “Only the dead have seen the end of war.”

The shadows are lengthening for me.  The twilight is here.  My days of old have vanished, tone and tint.  They have gone glimmering through the dreams of things that were.  Their memory is one of wondrous beauty, watered by tears, and coaxed and caressed by the smiles of yesterday.  I listen vainly, but with thirsty ears, for the witching melody of faint bugles blowing reveille, of far drums beating the long roll.  In my dreams, I hear again the crash of guns, the rattle of musketry, the strange, mournful mutter of the battlefield.

But in the evening of my memory, always I come back to West Point.  Always there echoes and re-echoes: Duty, Honor, Country.

Today marks my final roll call with you, but I want you to know that when I cross the river my last conscious thoughts will be of The Corps, and The Corps, and The Corps.

I bid you farewell.

____________

These words, so eloquently delivered, must serve as our guide in determining the worthiness of our military leaders.  Duty, Honor, Country.  Even though we all recognize that civilian leadership must control the military, there is no obligation for any soldier, sailor, airman, or Marine to obey an illegal order or directive or any inherently inept order that could lead to a battlefield disaster.  No individual can fulfill his duty who does not have unshakeable integrity.  As officers and NCOs, our integrity demands that we place the good of our nation and those entrusted into our care ahead of personal comfort or advancement.  As General MacArthur said in 1951, our integrity will lead us to perform our duty as God gives us the light to see that duty.

There are consequences to performing one’s duty, of course.  One’s superiors may not agree with a leader’s decision — censure is always possible. Still, if we have relied upon our best judgment deciding, that is all anyone can ask of another.  Every leader must prepare to refuse an order, especially an illegal directive, particularly a foolish order.  “No, sir, I will not execute that order.  Here is my resignation.” If we do not have principled senior officers or our flag officers lack the moral courage to resist political pressure opposing a “proper” decision, then there is something substantially wrong with the process we employ in choosing our senior-most officers.  Every American military leader must realize that a bended knee is not one of our time-honored traditions.

First in — Stretched Thin

On 11 September 2001, Al-Qaeda terrorists hijacked four airliners and used them as weapons against New York and Washington, D. C.  The attacks were planned and orchestrated by the mentally deficient Osama Bin-Laden.

In the aftermath of the attacks, the Bush administration announced its war on terrorism.  The Present’s stated goal was bringing Osama Bin-Laden and Al-Qaeda to justice and preventing the emergence of other terrorist networks.  President Bush intended to achieve the goals through economic and military sanctions against states perceived as harboring terrorists and increasing global surveillance on terrorists’ movements.

In the aftermath of the attack, the Inspector-General of the CIA conducted an internal review of the agency’s performance before 9/11.  This report was highly critical of senior CIA officials.  Through the autumn of 2001, the Taliban continued to pressure the Northern Alliance, often with the aid of Osama Bin Laden and his Arab forces.  On 9 September 2001, an assassination attempt by two Arabs posing as journalists mortally wounded Northern Alliance Leader Ahmad Shah Massoud.  This attack was the work of Bin Laden’s Al-Qaeda.  The Northern Alliance responded to Massoud’s killing with an aerial attack on Kabul on 11 September.

We now know that Al-Qaeda coordinated Massoud’s murder with the terror attacks on the United States on 11 September.  Since Massoud was an American ally, the US planned to punish Al-Qaeda and Bin Laden as part of its first phase of what became known as the Global War on Terror.

The War in Afghanistan began on 7 October 2001 with allied airstrikes on Taliban and al Qaida targets.  On the ground, American, British, and other Allied special forces troops worked with the Northern Alliance to begin a military offensive to overthrow the Taliban.  This alliance between the Northern Alliance and the Allies led to coordination between Allied air attacks and ground attacks by the Northern Alliance.  These attacks led to the fall of Kabul on 13 November 2001, as the Taliban retreated from most of northern Afghanistan.

But the first troops in Afghanistan after 9/11 weren’t military.  They were CIA officers carrying boxes of cash to recruit Afghan warlords.  It was after that when special operations forces showed up, and after that, an allied bombing campaign.  In 2001, the coalition victory came quickly.  CIA officers took the lead in locating Osama Bin-Laden in the Tora Bora complex but worked with special operators and local Afghan militias.  Bin-Laden’s escape and disappearance into the woodwork meant that the Al-Qaeda organization could not wage further attacks against the United States.

During these early days, CIA (forward) was exceptional and well-suited for the challenge.  Afghanistan in 2001 wasn’t the CIA’s first turn at bat.  Covert operations in Afghanistan began in 1979.  Some contend (and I am one of them) that the CIA’s operation Cyclone set into motion what later transpired: the creation of Al-Qaeda and the attack upon the United States in 2001.

In one of history’s tragic ironies, the covert operation succeeded, turning Afghanistan into a quagmire for the Soviets and eventually leading to their defeat and withdrawal — but elements of the mujahideen and their supporters eventually morphed into Al-Qaeda, a carefully conceived organization with two purposes: to rid the Saudis of potentially harmful radical components they created through Wahhabism, and the pursuit of global jihad without drawing attention to themselves as its creator and primary source of funding.  Despite the thousands of disaffected morons seeking paradise through jihad, neither Al-Qaeda nor the Taliban (both adherents of Wahhabism) could stand up to the might of the US and Coalition military forces.  So, they withdrew (at first into small enclaves, and later en mass) to Pakistan, a Saudi partner in global jihad movements).

In the twenty years since 9/11, the CIA’s involvement in counterterrorism has expanded to the point where it is nearly impossible to differentiate between the work of intelligence gathering and suppression.  One example is that both the CIA and military engage in drone operations, often independently but occasionally as a cooperative effort.  A second example is that while the CIA supervised the operation to locate and kill Osama Bin-Laden, Navy Seals carried out the mission.  Today, both US special operations forces and CIA para-military groups engage in covert activities.

What is the point?

All government agencies suffer the slings and arrows of their civilian/political masters.  The pendulum swings, and with each amplitude comes the waste of billions of dollars in revenues.  The executive’s decision to bring thousands of unvetted Moslems to America’s communities, for example, may score points among the least intelligent of us all.  Still, it results in new demands to expand domestic counter-terror capabilities.  Previously, the Federal Bureau of Investigation has demonstrated incapable — handicapped by federal restrictions on monitoring mosques and its fascination with Bible-carrying Christians.  By law, neither the CIA nor the military can operate inside the United States.

So, while the fusing of intelligence gathering capabilities with military operations does have its benefits, there are also significant risks.  CIA paramilitary operations mean that it is spending less time on data collection and analysis.  We are, in 2021, returning to a period before 2001, which, as before, is a stupidity that could lead us once more to dire consequences.  As recently stated by Dr. Zegart at the Hoover Institution, the CIA’s mission is to prevent strategic surprise, not playing cowboys and Indians on the Afghan plain.

We live in an increasingly dangerous world.  Artificial intelligence is good and well worth the money we’re spending on it, but it isn’t good enough.  We need human intelligence to give us due and timely notice of approaching danger.  This is what we need the CIA to do.  America’s defense requires a coordinated effort, not a disjointed one, and not one that has overlapping responsibilities to the point where no one is quite sure who’s in charge of what.  The tremendous expense of an effective intelligence effort must cause us to realize that there is a difference between battlefield intelligence and strategic intelligence, and we must endeavor not to make it more complicated than it already is.  We do have our national defense interests at stake, don’t we?

Ah yes  — Our national interests. 

To drive home the previous point(s), according to the Afghanistan Study Group (Final Report) in February 2021, it is the United States’ foremost interest to contain the activities of terrorist groups that remain active in Afghanistan that could threaten the US homeland — principally, Al-Qaeda and the Islamic State Khorasan Province (ISKP).  According to this report, “Our ongoing military presence in Afghanistan, working alongside Afghan security forces, has disrupted these groups and prevented them from attacking our homeland.  A complete withdrawal of our troops would allow the threat to reemerge.  In the long term, the United States must either maintain a counterterrorism force in Afghanistan or have assurances that other verifiable mechanisms are in place to ensure that these groups cannot reconstitute.” Except that seven months later, there is no US military presence in Afghanistan; there are no Afghan security forces and no way to prevent their reemergence.  All that is left for us now is to know, in advance, what we can expect from these radical morons who seek to kills us.  This is what the CIA must now concentrate on; if they are not focused on that, then we should anticipate a very troubling future.

Snakes in the Grass

America’s real domestic terrorists

I suspect that few today even know who Mark Fidel Kools is — which is, perhaps, perfectly understandable.  Mr. Kools is the illegitimate son of John Kools.  John was a gangster who operated in the Watts section of Los Angeles, California, and, as a consequence of his domestic terrorism as a gangster, was sent to prison.  The State of California released John from prison in 1974 — but not before falling in with another gang, which we today call the Moslem Brotherhood — an organization funded by the Saudi Kingdom as part of their Wahhabist invasion of western civilization.  John Kools, having converted to Islam (at the taxpayer’s expense), changed his name to Akbar.

At the time of John’s release from prison, Mark was three years old.  By then, his mother had also converted to Islam and married William Bilal, also a convert to Islam.  Mrs. Bilal is known today as Quran Bilal.  With apparent pride in her former lover’s accomplishments, Mrs. Bilal changed Mark’s name to Hasan Karim Akbar.

In 1988, Hasan began attending the University of California (Davis); he graduated nine years later with bachelor’s degrees in Aeronautical and Mechanical Engineering.  During his somewhat elongated college experience, Hasan participated in the Army Reserve Officer’ Training Corps (ROTC), but he was not offered a commission upon his graduation in 1997.  Deeply in debt, Hasan subsequently enlisted in the US Army.

Hasan Akbar, photo by Gary Broome

A few years later, Hasan served as a sergeant with the 326th Engineer Battalion, 101st Airborne.  In 2003, the Army staged elements of the division at Camp Pennsylvania in Kuwait.  In the early morning hours of 23 March 2003, Akbar cut off the generator that powered the lights inside the encampment.  He then tossed four fragmentation grenades into three tents where other soldiers were sleeping, causing numerous injuries.  In the resulting chaos, Akbar used his service rifle to kill Army Captain Christopher S. Seifert, an intelligence officer whom Akbar shot in the back.  Air Force Major Gregory L. Stone was killed from one of the four hand grenades.

An Army court-martial convicted Akbar of murder and sentenced him to death.  Having exhausted all of his appeals, he remains on death row at the disciplinary barracks at Fort Leavenworth, Kansas.  All that remains, in this case, is presidential authority to carry out the execution.

Nidal Hasan US Army Photo

Also awaiting execution at Fort Leavenworth, Kansas, is former Army major Nidal Hasan.  We all know what he did at Fort Hood, Texas.  While awaiting his execution, Hassan petitioned the Islamic State of Iraq and the Levant for citizenship.  Whether he remains in close contact with former sergeant Akbar is unknown, but it is plausible that they offer one another comfort and encouragement since they are both confined on death row.

Carrying forward in my snake hunt, I similarly expect that few people today know who Ali Abdul Saoud Mohamed is.  Mr. Mohamed has a long and interesting history working against the interests of the United States of America and its people.  He was born in Egypt in 1952.  For some period of time until 1984, Ali Mohamed served in the Egyptian army as an intelligence officer, reaching the rank of colonel.  From around 1979 through 1984, he was instrumental in training anti-Soviet fighters en route to Afghanistan.

Afterward, back in Egypt, Mr. Mohamed went to the US Embassy in Cairo, asked to speak to the CIA Station Chief.  During this meeting, Mohamed volunteered his services as an informant against the emerging Al-Qaeda organization.  Apparently, the CIA was unaware of Mohamed’s former association with the Egyptian Army or his involvement with Al-Qaeda in Afghanistan.  Despite the CIA’s suspicions that he might be an Islamist agent, they appointed him as a junior CIA intelligence officer and tasked him with collecting information about the Islamist movements.  One of his first tasks was to infiltrate a mosque with known ties to Hezbollah.  Mohamed affiliated with the mosque but soon informed the Imam that he was working for the United States as a spy.  He may have suggested that this situation would be an excellent opportunity to feed the Americans misinformation about Islamist movements.

As it turned out, Mohamed was not the only informant in that particular mosque.  There was another who informed the CIA that Mohamed was a double agent.  The CIA subsequently dismissed Mohamed and took measures to bar him from entering the United States.  However, Mohamed somehow evaded the ban and once more went to the United States.  He married an American woman, became a US citizen, and joined the U. S. Army.

After Mohamed’s initial training, he found his way into the US Special Forces.  In that organization, his leaders encouraged him to pursue advanced degrees in Islamic Studies.  They wanted Mohamed to become an instructor so that he could teach courses involving the Middle East.  They thought he was a pretty sharp tack, not knowing he was a former Egyptian army colonel.  Mohamed was a “self-starter,” they said.

Ali Mohamed Photo Source Unknown

Throughout his service in the US Army, Mohamed collected information from the Army.  He made copies of technical manuals, doctrinal publications, and training manuals to inform Al-Qaeda better how to defeat the American armed forces.  He provided information about weapons, tactical formations, and Special Forces operations.

In 1988, Mohamed took a 30-day leave from the Army and returned to the middle east.  He informed his superiors that he wanted to fight in Afghanistan.  When he returned, he bragged about killing Soviets, and to back up his claim, he showed people his “war relics.”  Alarm bells sounded in the head of his immediate commanding officer, Lieutenant Colonel Robert Anderson, who initiated action to have Mohamed investigated by Army Intelligence.  Anderson’s reports went unanswered; no investigation was ever conducted (that we know about) — which led Anderson to wonder if Mohamed was part of the US clandestine services. 

Mohamed left the US Army in 1989, finding work with a defense contractor providing security at a factory that produced Trident Missile systems.  When he wasn’t doing that, he began training Middle Eastern refugees and American-born Islamists in such areas as demolitions, including those who were later associated with the bombing of the World Trade Center in 1993, Mahmud Abouhalima and Ramzi Yousef.

In the early 1990s, Mohamed returned to Afghanistan.  He trained Al-Qaeda volunteers in unconventional warfare techniques, including kidnapping, assassination, and aircraft hijacking, which he had learned during Special Forces training.  According to some, Mohamed even trained a wealthy Saudi fighter named Osama bin-Laden and later helped bin-Laden plan the US Embassy bombings in Kenya and Tanzania.  Mohamed became the “go-to” guy when bin-Laden or Ayman al-Zawahiri needed to know or understand something about the US Army.  In 1993, Mohamed toured California with Zawahiri, who posed as a Kuwait Red Crescent Society representative.  Together, the two men hoped to raise money from Islamic-American charities to fund Jihadi movements (otherwise known as global terrorism).

In May 1993, Mohamed became an FBI informant in San Jose, California.  In exchange for worthless information, Mohamed provided Al-Qaeda and Egyptian Islamic Jihad with valuable American intelligence.  It was also in 1993 that Mohamed was nearly arrested in Canada while meeting with a representative of Osama bin-Laden.  He escaped arrest by telling Canadian authorities that he was an FBI informant, and they promptly released him.

After the 1998 bombings, FBI agents searched Mohamed’s apartment and discovered his complicity in terrorist activities.  Such evidence included plans and scripts of Al-Qaeda training, plans to meet with Osama bin-Laden, and so forth.  On the day Mohamed was scheduled to give testimony in another case, FBI agents arrested him.

Federal authorities charged Mohamed with several offenses, including five counts of conspiracy to kill US nationals, conspiracy to kidnap, murder, and maim others outside of the United States, conspiracy to kill government employees, conspiracy to destroy US buildings and property, and conspiracy to destroy or disrupt utilities vital to the security of the United States.  Mohamed faced the death penalty, but he made a deal with the federal prosecutor.  He would plead guilty in exchange for life in prison.  To date, Ali Mohamed has not appeared in court.  He remains in federal custody at an undisclosed location.

These are the snakes among us.  How many of these snakes exist is — unknown.  What the US government is doing about the snakes inside America is equally obscure.  It would be comforting to have some indication that the United States is on top of the problem rather than unwittingly playing a role in global terrorism.  Still, I cannot comment about that possibility, either.  However, here’s what we know: all three men are US citizens, all three are Moslems, all three murdered American citizens, and all three remain alive at the taxpayer’s expense.  Pest control specialists say that if you see one cockroach, there are 50 more that you don’t see.  I wonder if the same ratio applies to venomous snakes.

In a televised interview, Ali Mohamed explained his rationale for becoming a terrorist: “Islam without political dominance cannot survive.”  If this isn’t good advice, then I’ve never heard it.

Sources:

  1. Atwan, A. B.  The Secret History of Al-Qaeda.  UC Berkley, 2006.
  2. Bergen, P.  Holy War, Inc.: Inside the Secret World of Osama bin Laden.  Free Press, 2001.
  3. Esposito, J. L.  Unholy War: Terror in the Name of Islam.  Oxford University, 2002.
  4. Mura, A.  The Symbolic Scenarios of Islamism: A study in Islamic political thought.  Routledge Publishing, 2015.

India Three Four in Panama

Some Background

In the eighty or so years following independence from Spain, Panama was a province of Gran Colombia, a free association begun in 1821.  From that point onward, the people living in Panama made several dozen attempts to withdraw from their Colombian alliance, including the so-called Thousand Days War (1899-1902).  For the Panamanians, it was a struggle for land rights more than an issue of sovereignty.  Observing these machinations and with a growing interest in constructing a canal across the Isthmus, the United States under President Theodore Roosevelt began to engineer the separation of Panama from Colombia.

In November 1903, Panama declared its independence from Colombia.  To constrain Colombia from sending naval and ground forces to Panama, the United States re-introduced a Marine Corps presence in Panama under future commandant, Major John A. Lejeune.  Of course, this was not the Marines’ first deployment to Panama.  In 1856, Marines went to Panama to guarantee the security of American fortune hunters while en route to California via the Isthmus.

Given Roosevelt’s interest in constructing a canal, Major Lejeune realized that a Marine presence in Panama would continue.  So, with that foresight, Lejeune established a permanent barracks there in 1904.  Between 1904 and 1911, the principal mission of the Marine Corps was to safeguard the canal while under construction (and its workers/executive managers).  Marines established a permanent barracks at the US Navy’s submarine base at Coco Solo in 1923 — known simply as Marine Barracks (MB), Panama.  From that year forward, the size of the barracks expanded and contracted according to the needs of the Navy. 

In February 1945, the MB had 36 officers, three warrant officers, and 1,571 enlisted men at its peak strength.  The Marines also experienced several “re-designations” and relocations.  In 1943, Headquarters Marine Corps (HQMC)  consolidated all Marines serving in Panama under the Marine Barracks, Fifteenth Naval District, Rodman, Canal Zone.  In 1987, HQMC renamed the barracks as Marine Corps Security Force Company (MCSFC), Panama.

Responsibility for the Canal Zone (CZ) security fell to the U. S. Army under the Commanding General, U. S. Army South (CG USASouth), headquartered in San Antonio, Texas.  USASouth became a subordinate command of the United States Southern Command (USSOUTHCOM), headquartered in Miami, Florida, as one of eleven unified combatant commands.  The mission assigned to the Marine Security Forces was in providing security for U. S. Navy installations in Panama.

Panama — US Relations

The agreement between Panama and the United States vis-à-vis the canal was that the United States would lease a twelve-mile swath of land across the Isthmus for 100 years, construct the channel, and control it as sovereign US territory during the period of the lease.  Over time, with technological advances in ship sizes, the canal proved no longer adequate for the largest naval and maritime vessels.  Within this period, relations between the US and Panama were not always amiable.  Marine battalion landing teams infrequently went to Panama as a show of force and a demonstration that the United States intended to exercise its control over canal zone operations, particularly during periods of political and civil unrest.[1]

By agreement between Panama and the US in 1977, complete control of the Panama Canal would shift to the Panamanians in 2000.  In 1981, however, General Omar Torrijos, then serving as “Maximum Leader of the Panamanian Revolution,” the man who negotiated this treaty, died in a plane crash — which opened the door for General Manuel Antonio Noriega to succeed him as a revolutionary leader and de facto head of state in Panama.  During Noriega’s tenure, five men served as puppet heads of state to give Noriega’s dictatorship international credibility.

General Noriega consolidated his power in Panama by seizing control of the armed forces, renaming them as Panamanian Defense Forces.  By 1988, Noriega controlled the national police, the army and paramilitary organizations, the air forces, and the small naval force — in total (on paper), around 15,000 men.  In terms of combat troops, Noriega could field roughly 3,500 men organized as two light battalions in each of Panama’s thirteen military zones, ten independent companies, a cavalry squadron, and a handful of “special operations” forces.  Noriega’s air force consisted of 50 aircraft, and his navy operated twelve small vessels.  He also controlled 14 battalions of civilian laborers, the so-called Dignity Battalions, which consisted of unemployed workers shepherded by low-ranking officers and NCOs.

Manuel Noriega was a caudillo in the finest tradition of post-Spanish petty dictators.  He was arrogant, corrupt, dangerous, and stupid.  His arrogance led him to misjudge the United States’ continuing interest in the Canal Zone (CZ).  While the United States turned a blind eye to Noriega’s involvement in narcotics, Noriega’s time was fast running out.  In January 1988, two federal grand juries in Florida indicted Noriega on racketeering and drug trafficking charges.  Subsequently, puppet-President Eric Arturo Delvalle attempted to depose Noriega, but Noriega engineered Delvalle’s dismissal.  Civil disorder one more returned to Panama, with threats made to the lives and safety of American personnel and military installations.

The Culture War

As relations between the US and Panama deteriorated, the Joint Chiefs of Staff (JCS) issued a warning order to various military commands ordinarily responsible for the security of the canal zone.  Marines at Camp Lejeune, North Carolina, began updating their contingency plans for Panama.  With only one MCSFC in Panama, a platoon from the Marine Corps Security Force Battalion (at Norfolk, Virginia), known as a Fleet Anti-terrorist Security Team (FAST), was quickly dispatched to reinforce the Marines of MCSFC Panama. 

Of course, the FAST platoon was an inadequate measure, but the National Military Command Authority (NMCA) or JCS had yet to decide what to do about Noriega.  With so few men to provide security to naval installations, Major E. A. Keith, CO MCSFC Panama, had to prioritize his security concerns.  With the concurrence of the Commander, US Naval Forces (South), Keith identified the fuel storage facility, known as the Arraijan Tank Farm (ATF), as his first security concern. 

The ATF is located within two square kilometers of rolling grassland, surrounded by dense jungle,[2] which provided excellent avenues of approach should Noriega’s PDF attempt to seize the ATF or threaten the adjacent Howard Air Force Base.[3]  Major Keith did not have a sufficient number of men to maintain a formal defense perimeter around the ATF, so his only recourse was to employ irregular area security patrols.

Patrol leaders almost immediately reported the presence of PDF forces dressed in black field uniforms using night vision goggles (NVGs) and evidence of recently prepared foxholes in the jungle areas surrounding the ATF.  When Marines reported this intelligence up the chain of command, US Army South dismissed it out-of-hand, claiming that US troops prepared the fighting holes during recent training exercises.  US Army South also emphatically denied that Noriega’s PDF had any NGVs.  Subsequently, however, Navy intelligence officers learned that the Army had not conducted any training exercises adjacent to the ATF for several years; moreover, that the Army had (in fact) transferred NGVs to the PDF.

Despite the Army’s lack of interest in further reinforcing the MCSFC, the navy requested that the Marine Corps ready a combat brigade for possible deployment to the Canal Zone.  Accordingly, the 6th Marine Brigade (6thMEB) was issued a warning order.  In developing his operation plan, the Brigade Commander suggested an “all or nothing” approach.  Either the Brigade deployed as a fully functional combat brigade (two battalion landing teams, two combat aircraft squadrons) or not at all.

Even as the JCS fretted about a proper response to deteriorating conditions in Panama, 6thMEB received a “stand up” order on 31 March 1988.  While this was going on, the Commanding General, Fleet Marine Force, Atlantic (CG FMFLant) ordered an advance combat element to proceed to Panama to reinforce the MCSFC.  The Marines viewed this advanced element as a nucleus for a Marine Air-Ground Task Force (MAGTF) around which a brigade might later form, although one without any air support.

Why was there no aviation support for the Marines?  Given the amount of Army and Air Force assets stationed at Howard Air Force Base, COMUSSOUTHCOM did not see a need for additional Marine Corps combat aircraft.  SOUTHCOM didn’t see a need for any Marines at all, but at that stage, the employment of Marines wasn’t up to SOUTHCOM if their mission was to reinforce security for naval installations.

The unit assigned as the brigade’s advance element was Company I, 3rd Battalion, 4th Marines (India 3/4), under the command of Captain Joseph P. Valore.  Upon arrival in Panama on 6 April, Valore reported to Rear Admiral Jerry G. Gnecknow, Commander, Naval Forces, Southern Command.  Colonel William J. Conley, who served as brigade chief of staff, accompanied Captain Valore to Panama.  As part of the advance team, Conley’s mission was to arrange logistical support for the brigade, should it actually deploy.  Admiral Gnecknow assigned Colonel Conley as Senior Marine Officer, Naval Forces, Panama, when the brigade’s deployment did not appear likely.

The selection of India 3/4 (Reinforced) to serve as the brigade’s advance element was that the brigade earmarked its parent battalion as one of the brigade’s battalion landing teams and because the company, who at the time was the 2nd Marine Divisions air alert/rapid response team, had completed extensive pre-deployment training.  The 3rd Battalion, 4th Marines reinforced India Company with an 81mm mortar section, a Sensor Control and Management Platoon (SCAMP), a counterintelligence team, and a squad of combat engineers.  Colonel Conley assigned responsibility for securing the ATF  to Captain Valore, who embraced Major Keith’s aggressive patrolling strategy.  Suddenly, on 9 April, operational control of India Company passed from Admiral Gnecknow to the Commander, Joint Task Force (JTF), Panama — who also served as Commander, U. S. Army South.

At the time of his deployment, Captain Valore felt obligated to address two issues affecting his company’s performance in Panama.  The first was a standing policy decision that precluded armed Marines from chambering a round in their weapons until fired upon, and the second involved rules of engagement.  Captain Valore correctly believed that sending Marines into harm’s way with unchambered weapons was foolish; indeed, it is.  He raised this issue with Colonel Conley, who agreed with Valore and authorized the Marines to patrol with chambered weapons.  As to the rules of engagement, Conley allowed Valore’s Marines to “return fire if fired upon.”

What made these two issues “hot button” topics was the 1983 Beirut bombing incident.  Because of the restricted weapons policy, Marine sentries were unable to stop the bomb-laden truck that drove through the security perimeter and kill 241 American servicemen.  As to the rules of engagement, no one fired on the Marines standing guard that day — the terrorist simply drove through the perimeter at a high rate of speed.  Thus, Conley’s cautionary instruction, to “return fire if fired upon,” was woefully inadequate.  There are occasions when initiating hostile action is unquestionably appropriate.

But COMJTFPANAMA/COMUSARMYSOUTH had a different perspective.  He did not want Marines firing on Panamanians.  The mission, he argued, was to safeguard American interests in Panama, not make the deteriorating political condition worse.  In his view, the Marines — by their very presence — were making matters worse by their aggressive behavior.  At this point, one may wonder, what would be the purpose of arming military personnel to guard US installations if the men charged with executing that mission weren’t taking their responsibilities seriously?

This particular kerfuffle leads one to consider the cultural differences between the U. S. Army and the United States Marines.  There is a unique and very distinctive Marine Corps culture that sets the Marines apart from every other branch of service.  First, Marines never lose sight of their primary mission: winning battles.  Locating, closing with, and destroying the enemy is at the forefront of every Marine Corps mission.  It is the only reason Marines exist.  Second, a bended knee and/or erring on the side of caution in a kinder-gentler world is not a Marine Corps tradition.  Marines are warriors — it is their ethos.  There is something very different going on inside the heads of (too many) senior army officers.

So, while senior Army officers berated the Marines for doing what they’re best at, senior Marine Corps officers remained adamant: they would not employ a lethal combat company and then tie its hands by ridiculously simple-minded restrictions. 

Moreover, in 1988, a bolstered Marine presence in Panama resulted from the PDF’s aggressiveness, not the cause of it.  It may be true that army personnel in Panama were serving a fantasy tour, accompanied by their families, enjoying an exotic and leisurely lifestyle, but that wasn’t what India Company was doing in Panama.  India Company arrived in Panama in combat mode.

A test of each of the preceding presumptions transpired during the night of 10-11 April.  Soon after the arrival of India Company, unknown intruders began probing Marine positions at the ATF.  Early in the morning of 11 April, a Marine patrol operating in the northeast sector contacted an unknown number of intruders.  The patrol leader, Corporal Ricardo Villahermosa, determined to apprehend these unknown trespassers.  To accomplish that, Villahermosa split his force, intending to envelop them.  The jungle was pitch black, and the only sound was an occasional snap of vegetation, which suggested human movement.  A short time later, a flare accidentally “popped,” emulating the sound of the discharge of a weapon, and then ignited.  Marines from the split force opened fire, and Corporal Villahermosa was mortally wounded.  It was a frightful accident — but one that prompted a renewal of the ‘weapons ready’ debate.

Major General Bernard Loeffke,[4] U. S. Army, CG USASouth, also serving as JTF commander, critically challenged the Marines at a meeting on 12 April.  Major Alfred F. Clarkson, the operations officer of the MEB’s advance element, rigorously defended the “weapons ready” policy, informing General Loeffke in no uncertain terms that the Marine chain of command would not deny the use of weapons to their troops.  Doing otherwise, he said, was morally indefensible.  Colonel Conley concurred and made certain that Loeffke’s concerns did not impede Marine combat operations.

Shortly after nightfall on 12 April, remote battlefield sensors alerted Valore’s Marines that approximately 40 unknown persons were approaching the ATF perimeter.  SCAMP Marines confirmed the presence of these unknown persons, and a USAF AC-130 gunship provided the third verification.  Captain Valore immediately consolidated his force in the center of the ATF.  Soon after that, Marines received and returned fire into the line of tracers aimed at them from this unknown force.

To the west of the company, a SCAMP detachment reported another probe.  The detachment NCOIC, Sergeant Michael A. Cooper, requested illumination, revealing well-armed hostiles were moving toward his position.  Captain Valore approved Cooper’s request for a mortar fire mission, and sixteen HE rounds were dropped on the approaching hostile force.  Valore also authorized Cooper to return fire.  As Cooper engaged the hostiles, an additional force assaulted Valore’s company.  The Marines returned fire with an M19 chain gun that spits out 220 rounds of 40mm grenades, and the enemy withdrew.

At around 2200, General Loeffke arrived at Valore’s position in civilian attire, demanding to know what had transpired.  After Captain Valore briefed Loeffke, the general ordered him to cease fire and not re-engage unless first fired upon.  Loeffke also ordered the Marines to remain in place and allow the intruders to withdraw from the area.  Loeffke assured Valore that he had contacted the PDF command structure, who assured him that there were no Panamanian forces in the area.

In compliance with Loeffke’s order, Valore moved the SCAMP detachment back from the perimeter.  Through the use of NVGs, Valore witnessed several intruders administering first aid and evacuating casualties from the jungle.  Marines from the MCSFC, who had established a roadblock on the Pan American highway and observed the PDFs evacuation of dead and wounded, confirmed Captain Valore’s after-action report.

In the aftermath of this incident, Valore and his Marines were set upon by a bevy of Naval Investigative Service (NIS) and Army Intelligence Service (AIS) agents.  The repetitious questioning lasted several days.  Additionally, Loeffke ordered Valore and his Marines to submit to urinalysis testing — all of which were negative.

More than anything else, Major General Loeffke and his JTF Staff wanted to discredit Captain Valore, India Company Marines, and the U. S. Marine Corps.  Loeffke publicly stated that the Marines had fired at ghosts and shadows.  General Noriega and the anti-American Panamanian press exploited this opportunity and began planting stories about drug abuse among the Marines.  For their part, the Marine hierarchy closed ranks around Captain Valore and his Marines.  Colonel Conley rejected Loeffke’s and Noriega’s nonsense and may have even confided some concern about Loeffke’s loyalty to his superiors.

Undeterred, Loeffke replaced India 3/4 at the ATF with an Army battalion[5].  On 14 April 1988, Army sentries guarding the ammunition supply point came under fire from an unknown size of PDF forces.  The same night, an Army patrol of the 7th Special Forces Group operating west of Howard AFB came under fire.  It, therefore, became apparent to everyone (except General Loeffke) that the Marines did not imagine the PDF assault at the ATF.  In retrospect, the Marines developed the appropriate response to PDF aggression, and Loeffke’s general incompetence as a field commander countermanded it.[6]

Over the next several months, the PDF continued to initiate aggressive actions against US forces in Panama, but nothing on the scale of the firefight in April 1988, which suggested that Captain Valore’s response had the desired effect on PDF activities.  Between April and December 1988, the US decided on diplomatic maneuvers rather than military. 

This period of calm allowed the Marines to undergo additional jungle training and exercise command and control systems, particularly between the Army and Marines.  COMUSSOUTHCOM formally appointed Colonel Conley as commander overall Marine forces in Panama and Army units temporarily attached to the Marines for training.  Under Conley’s direction, Marine intelligence assets began to revise contingency plans based on needed updates to the “enemy situation” in Panama.

In mid-May 1988, India 3/4 went back on the line for another two weeks.  In addition to regular patrolling (day and night), the Marines improved their hardened observation and listening posts surrounding the tank farm and ammo depot and rehearsed rapid reaction operations.  Operations Purple Storm and Purple Blitz were joint-service exercises designed to improve command and control procedures between Marine and Army units and combat casualty evacuations.  Army and Air Force dog teams joined the Marines during their security patrols.  Army specialists installed a loudspeaker system designed to inform intruders that they were on US government property.  Air Force C-130 gunships flew nightly missions in support of the Marines.

Lima Company 3/4 relieved India 3/4 in June 1988.

Sources:

  1. Crandall, R.  Gunboat Democracy: US interventions in the Dominican Republic, Granada, and Panama.  Rowman & Littlefield Publications, 2006.
  2. Donnelly, T.  Operation Just Cause: The storming of Panama.  Lexington Books, 1991.
  3. Reynolds, N. E.  Just Cause: Marine Operations in Panama 1988-1990.  History and Museums Division, Headquarters, U. S. Marine Corps, 1996.
  4. Yates, L. A.  The US Military Intervention in Panama: Origins, Planning, and Crisis Management, June 1987-December 1989.  Army Center of Military History, 2008.

Endnotes:

[1] On 9 January 1964, grievances between native Panamanians and the “Zonians” (Americans living within the US-controlled Canal Zone) boiled over into a series of anti-American riots that resulted in an evacuation of the US Embassy in Panama City, assaults on US citizens — including the lynching of several US Army personnel — widespread looting and substantial damage to US-owned property.  The United States responded to this unrest by dispatching the 2nd Battalion, 8th Marines (BLT 2/8) to Panama to protect American lives and property.  At the time, I had the privilege of serving as a rifleman in Company E (Captain William R. Wildpret, commanding).  Echo Company was assigned responsibility for the security of the naval base at Coco Solo.

[2] The density of the jungle limited Marine patrols to about 500 yards over two hours.

[3] At this time, security for Howard Air Force Base was not a Marine Corps responsibility.

[4] USMA graduate in 1957, Loeffke has a degree in engineering, an MA in Russian language and Soviet Era studies, and a PhD in international relations.  He is a combat decorated officer, served as the Army Attaché with the US Embassy in Moscow, served on the White House staff, served as the Defense Attaché with the US Embassy in China, befriended Chinese general Xu Xin, is fluent in Chinese, and is a self-professed expert on Sino-American affairs.  After leaving the Army in 1992, Loeffke earned a medical degree and served as a physician in Bosnia, Haiti, Kenya, Iraq, Niger, and Darfur.  According to Loeffke, China is not the United States’ enemy.  While instructing at the USMA, Loeffke urged his students to increase their understanding of the Chinese and Russians as they are just like us.

[5] It normally takes an army regiment to replace a Marine rifle company.

[6] Documents uncovered after the December 1989 invasion of Panama confirmed the PDF assault on the Marines at the ATF.  Analysts subsequently concluded that the ATF was not the focus of the PDF, but rather the Marines themselves, as perpetrated by Noriega’s 7th Rifle Company, also known as Macho de Monte, one of Noriega’s few elite units, possibly reinforced by a few members of the Special Anti-terrorist Security Unit, and that they were likely augmented by several Cuban military advisors.


Citizen Soldier and the American Militia

Background

Lucius Quintus Cincinnatus

The story of Lucius Quintus Cincinnatus, as with most of what we know about the ancient world, is wrapped in both fact and myth.  Historians believe this because ancient record-keepers were more storytellers than historians. It is also likely that what they didn’t know as an absolute fact, they made up.  That’s what storytellers do — and it usually does make for a good story. 

In any case, according to the story, Cincinnatus saved Rome on two occasions.  In 458 BC and 439 BC, the Senate of Rome summoned Cincinnatus, a modest farmer, and gave him dictatorial powers to raise an army to defend Rome — which he accomplished.  Then, when the fighting was over, Cincinnatus promptly relinquished his power and returned to his beets.

If the story is true, then the account of Cincinnatus could provide us with the earliest example of a citizen-soldier (also known as militia).  A militia is a military force raised from the civilian population during an emergency to serve in defense of the state (or community) or enforce the laws thereof.

Four hundred years later, during the Gallic Wars (a series of conflicts between 58-50 BC), Julius Caesar invaded Britannia because the Celts aided and assisted the enemies of Rome.[1]  Once Caesar had completed his punitive campaign, he returned to the continent — mission accomplished.

Rome’s formal occupation of Britain occurred between 43-410 AD.[2]  Roman government in Britain started well enough, but bribery, fraud, and treasonous behavior soon followed — presumably because corruption was part of Rome’s political landscape.  Apparently, this is something the United States inherited from the ancients, as well.  But life in Roman-Britain was further complicated by a more-or-less constant stream of invasions and assaults on Roman settlements by those who objected to Rome’s presence: the Picts, Irish/Scots, and later, the Anglo-Saxon hordes.  By the beginning of the fifth century, Rome’s military resources were stretched to the limit. A more pressing need for military manpower at home forced the Romans to withdraw their legions.[3]

During Britain’s Anglo-Saxon period (410-660), also known as the Migration Period, massive numbers of Germanic people escaped the chaos of their homeland and made their way to the Albion shore.  Upon arrival, they quickly learned that they were no safer in Britain because of the constant presence of marauders from northern Europe.  At best, these invaders helped create a sense of insecurity among the British people — at worst, the seeds of national paranoia.  Of course, when people are trying to kill you, then you aren’t paranoid.

During this period of great peril, Anglo-Saxons established a tradition called “the common burden.”  It was an obligation of community service toward the collective defense of towns and villages, and it was particularly noteworthy in the ancient settlements of Kent, Mercia, and Wessex.  It would be safe to say that thousands of able-bodied men were called upon to defend their boroughs from evil-doers over several hundred years.  By the 10th century, the common burden tradition had evolved, and it became the duty of landowners to assume the responsibility for organizing and maintaining armed militias.

Following the Norman invasion of England in 1066, William I saw the wisdom and prudence of local militias, and he incorporated the Anglo-Saxon tradition of the common burden.  William’s grandson, Henry I of England, mandated the following: “He will possess these arms and will bear allegiance to the Lord King Henry, namely the son of Empress Maud, and he will bear these arms in His service according to His order and in allegiance to the Lord King and his realm.” — The Assize of Arms, 1181.[4]

The Common Burden

The Assize of Arms established armed militias (on-call) by dividing the free populations into socio-economic categories.  Those who were wealthiest had the greater obligation to acquire and maintain various prescribed weapons.  In 1285, the Statute of Winchester expanded the Assize to include every able-bodied male person regardless of their status (free men or those bonded to the land), who were between 15 and 60.  Local gentry made the decision which of them served and under what circumstances.  The Statute stated, “Every man shall have in his house arms for keeping peace according to the ancient Assize.”[5]  When called upon, the duty of these men might include expeditions away from their shire, local guard duty, local defense, and occasionally escort duties.  Feudal military service ended during the reign of Edward III (1327-1377) — replaced by indentured service.[6]

Indentured soldiers incurred an obligation to serve their lord for a specified length of time.  It was the beginning of the profession of arms.  When the lord no longer needed professional soldiers or could no longer afford them, he might sell the contract to another, or the lord might have permitted the soldier to serve another as a mercenary.  In this way, soldiers began migrating from one conflict to another — mainly because the profession of arms is all they knew how to do.

A problem arose when there were no conflicts.  In these instances, it was common to find that soldiers turned to outlawry — marauders who preyed on defenseless hamlets, villages, or towns.  Circumstances like these caused town officials to return to the idea of local militias, and once more, locals served “on-call” of their community’s needs.

In 1581, British law stipulated, “If any [highborn] man being a Queen’s subject, and not having a reasonable cause or impediment, and being within the age of sixty years (except spiritual men, justices of the bench, or other justices of Assize, or barons of the Exchequer) have not a longbow and arrows ready in his house, or have not for every man child in his house between seven years and seventeen of age, a bow and two shafts, and every such being above seventeen years a bow and four shafts, or have not brought them up in shooting, if any man under the age of four and twenty years have not shot at standing targets (being above that age) have shot at any marks under eleven score yards with any pick shaft or flight,” shall be punished.

Colonial Militias

Translated, the Latin term Posse Comitatus means “force of the county.”  It refers to a citizens group assembled by officials to deal with an emergency.  The term also applied to any force or band called forth to confront hostiles. 

By the time the English fixed their sights on North America, France and Spain already claimed much of it, and neither kingdom was well-disposed to share it with Englishmen.  There was no regular English soldiery in the early formation of British colonies, so to protect themselves from assaults by Spanish coastal raiders and from hostile Indians sicced upon them by French colonial officials, English settlers created local militias modeled on those of the mother country.  These early American militias were crucial to the survival of the British colonies.

Colonial Militia

Naturally, the Englishmen who migrated to North America took with them their long-held British values and traditions.  Among these traditions was a general loathing for standing armies and the profession of arms.[7]  The reason for their profound contempt for the military was simple enough: British soldiers were instruments of government tyranny.  Even after more than 100 years, British-American colonists viewed the Redcoat as a clear and present danger to colonial autonomy and liberty.

Beyond the preceding, British-American settlements were bastions of Puritan values.  Outside instruments of a tyrannical parliament and king, American settlers were deeply offended by the uncouth Redcoat.  He was profane, bawdy, and addicted to Satan’s beverages.  Besides, the professional soldier was an outsider.  Militia, on the other hand, was part of the community.  They were family by blood or marriage, they were neighbors, and they were people who everyone could count on when needed — and so it was understandable that organized militia also viewed the Redcoats with suspicion.

The issue of suspicion and contempt was a two-way street because British regulars also had little regard for local militias.  In the view of professional soldiers, militias were undisciplined and unreliable mobs who tended to bolt once the sound of that first shot reverberated through their ranks.  This claim was, of course, valid.  Colonial militia were not soldiers; they were farmers.  They were undisciplined because they followed their own hook.  They decided for themselves whether they liked the odds on the battlefield.  More often than not, they made these decisions at the spur of the moment, prompted by others with similar fears, and usually, at the worst possible time.

The American militia was not an ideal defense mechanism, although some militias were more reliable than others.  Some militia refused to fight outside their county/colony — but there were also great successes, such as demonstrated at the Battle of Louisbourg in Nova Scotia.  But the militia was generally useful to colonial governments because once they activated the militia, officials could reposition the Redcoats elsewhere — where the need was greater.

Each British colony had a unique system for creating and maintaining its militia force.  In most cases, regulations specified “able-bodied white males between the ages of 18 to 45.”  Militias were formed under the auspices of the colonial charter, which required militia members to furnish their own armaments.

The first colonial militia was formed in Massachusetts in 1636.  Historians tell us that the early organization of the Massachusetts militia explains how the New England militias became part of the political framework.  More than one hundred years later, New England militia, having been thoroughly infiltrated by the Sons of Liberty, became the fuse that lit the American Revolution.[8]

From Colonial to American Militia

American militia became the foundation of the Continental Army and played an important role in General Washington’s strategies throughout the war of independence.  Militia carried out the siege of Boston, which gave Washington the time to organize his army and decide how best to prosecute the war.  It was the militia that later became part of Washington’s sophisticated spy network.

On April 19, 1775, American rebels and British regulars traded volleys at Concord Bridge. (North Wind Picture Archives/Alamy Stock Photo)

After the war, the colonist’s distrust of standing armies carried over to the new United States, and Congress disbanded the Army, Navy, and Marine Corps.  A small American Legion was restored, but the only seaborne force remaining was the Revenue Cutter Service.  Issues involving a state militia (and who should control it/pay for it) became hotly debated.

Despite the traditional distrust of standing armies, President Washington realized that the United States could not remain sovereign if it did not have the capacity of protecting its communities, ports, coastal regions, or its commerce — and so began the process of reconstituting the armed forces.  The timing of Washington’s initiatives could not have been better; the Quasi-War (with France) and the War of 1812 (in which the American militia played an important role) were just around the corner.

The militia is a long-held American tradition — part of our British heritage — and, one might argue, one that has maintained faith with its original purpose.  If modern Americans understood this history, they would realize that the strength of a community is that everyone belongs to it; everyone carries the burden of community obligation.  Community watch programs are one manifestation of this.  Community militias do not force membership — they are volunteer organizations.  Such militias offer no monetary benefit; there is only a sense of accomplishment by serving the community’s interests.  What are those interests?  Common cause, mutual security, and survival.

In early America, militia organizations combined military defense with community policing.  Militiamen served because their community needed them.  But as we all know, time changes all things.  In the past, American militia played a key role in the common burden even if it was not always professionally competent or efficient — but this is because they weren’t regular soldiers.  They were homeboys who did the best they could with what they had and, much like another militia unit that we’ve all learned to respect — the Texas Rangers — militiamen were often shoddy looking characters, undisciplined, and would only follow the orders of the officers they themselves respected and elected.  American militiaman decided whether and when to fight — and they chose when they’d had enough of it.

13th NY State Militia 1861

The American Civil War was a crossover period.  There were militia organizations back then, but they became fewer once the regular army assumed responsibility for protecting settlers from Indian hostilities.   They also became fewer in number when the law took hold.  County sheriffs could hire deputies and raise (volunteer) posses.  The United States had an army in 1861, but it wasn’t large enough to complete the task of preserving the Union.  It fell upon the states to raise a force of volunteers to augment the regular armies on both sides of the issue.  The people who volunteered to serve their state were the same kinds of people from an earlier period, albeit identifying more with their respective states than with their counties.  Even so, recruitment for state regiments came from one or more counties.  There were exceptions, of course.  The Kansas Red Legs and Missouri Bushwhackers are two — but it is difficult to say whether these were truly area militias or simply armed thugs with a mean streak.

Today there are state guard units and national guard organizations.  As one example, the Military Department of Texas includes the Texas State Guard and the Texas National Guard.  Together, these two organizations are regarded as the Texas State Militia.  The commander-in-chief of all state military forces is the governor, directed by the Adjutant General of Texas.  The governor of Texas commands the Texas Department of Public Safety similarly, including the Texas Rangers and other state troopers.  Unrelated to state government, there are also numerous volunteer militia groups throughout the United States.

Good vs. Bad, Right vs. Left

Texas State Militia on the border

Lately, almost every discussion about the Second Amendment to the Constitution of the United States — the right to bear arms, has become a political narrative.  There is nothing ambiguous about the Second Amendment, which states, “A well-regulated Militia, being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the people to keep and bear arms, shall not be infringed.”  Nevertheless, some continue to argue against this Constitutional right and regularly seek ways to limit or deny that right to citizens of the United States.  Nearly every state addresses “the right of the people to keep and bear arms,” which is every state’s right under our system of constitutional federalism.  Still, the debate continues.   Pro-gun groups (including almost every private militia group) insist that the Second Amendment means what it says.   Anti-gun groups insist that guns in the hands of private citizens pose a danger to public safety.  Still, to make that argument, they must also ignore the history of the American militia.  Criminals in Chicago have managed to elevate their city to a murder capital in the United States; yet, not one of these murdering thugs has ever belonged to a militia organization.

By claiming that anyone who supports the Second Amendment is a racist or a domestic terrorist, anti-gun arguments have become particularly nasty.  In response, pro-gun enthusiasts echo the Gonzalez Flag of 1835: Come and take it.

Today, in making word associations between “militia” and “white supremacy” and “Bible-thumping Christians,” anti-gun criminals (those acting in contravention of the law) have increased the intensity of the debate, even claiming that gun-carrying citizens are un-American.  It is an interesting argument given the entire history of militias and the people’s right and responsibility to bear arms dating back to 500 AD.

The English Bill of Rights of 1689 allowed citizens to “have Arms for their Defence suitable to their Conditions and as allowed by the Law.”  In modern arguments, particularly among those with a pro-gun point of view, and given Sir William Blackstone’s ageless opinion,[9] we may argue that U.S. gun rights indeed are a primary example of American exceptionalism.  Moreover, gun-rights advocates strenuously argue that the Second Amendment is an American’s only protection from federal totalitarianism.[10]  When one considers the numerous instances where the federal government has violated the constitutional rights of the American people, it is impossible to find fault with that reasoning.

Among those who argue that militias of an earlier time were ‘white supremacists,’ it is only accurate in the sense that many American communities (north, south, southwest, midwest, and northwest) were mired in the filth of Democratic Party politics and remained in that morass through the early 1970s.  In the post-Civil War period, when radical Republicans placed the Freedman’s Bureau in charge of state governments, racial hatred increased — which serves as another example that too much government benefits no one.

Modern militias see themselves as a check against the totalitarian government — and while this would not have been possible in 1776, it certainly was the case a few years later during Shay’s Rebellion (Massachusetts) and the Whiskey Rebellion (western Pennsylvania).  Oddly, some militias supported the rebellion, and other militias joining President Washington’s ranks.  But returning to today, modern militias (generally) are not part of state mechanisms; they are privately organized, loosely connected groups of men and women who, for some reason, scare the hell out of the Democratic/Progressive Party apparatus.

Less than a year ago, federal authorities charged thirteen so-called Wolverine Watchmen (a Michigan-based militia) with terrorism, conspiracy, and weapons charges.  Six men faced additional charges, which included conspiracy to commit the kidnapping of Governor Gretchen Whitmer.  Lately, however, there is information that the entire episode was an FBI entrapment operation.  Among those who have no trust or confidence in the federal government, they will argue that this isn’t the first time the FBI has created a crime in order to make an arrest.  The ploy, so the argument goes, is first to outline a criminal act, plan it, participate in it, arrest the “perpetrators,” lay on them every possible criminal charge, and then let the event play out for years until no one even remembers what happened.  Meanwhile, if none of these fellows are convicted, the federal government has destroyed them financially.  There must be a lesson in all this, somewhere.

We should know that there are “bad actors” everywhere in our society, but if we hope to restore civil society, then we have to let the facts lead us to proper conclusions.  There may be some off-center militias in America today, but they are few in number, and we serve no good purpose by applying a too-broad brush stroke to militias that see themselves as serving their communities.

Sources:

  1. AL Schuler, A.  Sir William Blackstone and the Shaping of American Law.  New Law Journal, 1994.
  2. Beckett, I. F. W.  Britain’s Part-Time Soldiers: The Amateur Military Tradition, 1558-1945.  Barnsley: Pen & Sword Publishing, 2011.
  3. Barnett, R. E., and Heather Gerken.  Article I, Section 8: Federalism and the Overall Scope of Federal Power.  National Constitution Center online.
  4. Chermak, S. M.  Searching for a Demon: The Media Construction of the Militia Movement.  Dartmouth, 2002.
  5. Tucker, S. G.  Blackstone’s Commentaries: With Notes of Reference to the Constitution and Laws of the Federal Government of the United States and of the Commonwealth of Virginia, Volumes 5.  Philadelphia, 1803; Reprint 1969.
  6. United States Constitution, Amendment II, 1792.

Endnotes:

[1] Britannia is a personification of the ancient Roman Province, of the isles Britain and the British people; she is a helmeted female warrior, armed with a trident and a shield.  In earlier times, the Roman name for Britain was Albion.

[2] Occupation rather than conquest because it is doubtful that any historian can make the argument that the Romans ever conquered the British people. 

[3] By this time, of course, there was already a substantial Roman civilian presence in Britain.  It was a Roman custom to award large land grants to legionnaires once they had served 25-30 years under Rome’s standard.  These people and their descendants, became British farmers, blacksmiths, shopkeepers, and teamsters.

[4] Henry II of England, (also Henry Plantagenet) (1133-1189) (Reign 1150-1189) laid the foundation of English Common Law and influenced the development of societies in Brittany, Wales, and Scotland.  Henry’s creation of armed militia to serve on call of the lord king was a reaction no to the so-called Great Revolt (1173-75). 

[5] A court that convened at various intervals in each county of England and Wales to administer civil and criminal law.  These courts existed until 1972 when the civil jurisdiction of Assizes was transferred to the High Court, and criminal jurisdiction was assigned to the Crown Court.

[6] Military indenture was a legal contract between a soldier and the man he served.  The contract was written out twice on one sheet of paper and then cut into two in such a way that the jagged edges would fit together (hence the name indenture).  The soldier retained one part, his captain the other.  Any subsequent dispute would require that both parties fit the copies together to resolve the problem.

[7] Later reflected in the US Constitution: Article I, Section 8, Clause 12: [The Congress shall have the power …] “To raise and support armies, but no Appropriation of Money to that Use shall be for a longer term than two years.”

[8] Initially formed as a secret society/separatist group to advance the rights of citizens and oppose the arbitrary imposition of taxes.  The group disbanded after repeal of the Stamp Act, but the name was  taken up by other local groups prior to the outbreak of hostilities between the British government and the colonies.  Some might argue that secret societies and clandestine raids is a mark of cowards, bolstered by the fact that during the so-called Tea Party, they dressed themselves as Indians. 

[9] “This may be the true palladium of liberty … The right of self-defence is the first law of nature.  In most governments it has been the study of rulers to confine this right within the narrowest limits possible.  Whenever standing armies are kept up, and the right of the people to keep and bear arms is, under any colour or pretext whatsoever, prohibited, liberty, if not already annihilated, is on the brink of destruction.”  Sir William Blackstone, 1803.

[10] In an article by R. E. Barnett, Georgetown University Law Center and Heather Gerken, Professor of Law at Yale, the authors provided an overview of Article 1, Section 8: Federalism and the Overall Scope of Federal Power.  Historically, federal-state relations have always contested, with federalism undergoing four distinct phases: Enumerated Powers Federalism (1787), Fundamental Rights Federalism (1865), New Deal Federalism (1933), and State Sovereignty Federalism (1986-).  The authors credit the Rehnquist Court with the revival of Enumerated Powers Federalism, and the Roberts Court, which continues the work of Rehnquist favoring state sovereignty over federal authoritarianism. 


Digging Graves

Background

Kǒng Fūzǐ, otherwise known in the western world as Confucius (551-479 BC), was a paragon of Chinese philosophers and sages and, perhaps, one of the most influential individuals in all human history.  His teachings emphasized personal morality, justice, kindness, and sincerity — but his school of thought was only one of a hundred philosophical and legalistic academies during China’s Qin dynasty.  He once warned, “Before you embark on a journey of revenge, dig two graves.”

Charlie Wilson

Operation Cyclone was the brainchild of Texas Congressman Charles Nesbit Wilson (also known as Charlie Wilson).[1]  It was the codename for a Central Intelligence Agency program to arm and finance the Afghan mujahideen (1979-1989) during the Soviet intervention in Afghanistan.  It was one of the most protracted and most expensive covert CIA operations ever undertaken.

Wilson’s idea was to funnel black money through the CIA to financially support radical Islamists who more or less worked under the control of Pakistani military dictator Muhammad Zia-ul-Haq (1977-1988).  We don’t know how much of this money Zia diverted to his atomic weapons project, but it may have been substantial.  Between 1980-1986, the CIA sent between $20-40 million to Afghanistan annually; in 1987, this amount increased to $640 million annually.  CIA funding continued after the Soviet Union departed Afghanistan in 1989 to support the Afghan Civil War (1989-1992).  Before Zia’s death, he successfully wooed both the United States and China into a ménage à trois — which was “just fine” with Charlie Wilson, a Democrat, who leaned in that direction anyway.

The CIA’s arms deal included the state-of-the-art Stinger surface-to-air shoulder-fired anti-aircraft weapon that cost around $38,000 each.  We sent thousands of these to Afghanistan to help the Islamists rid themselves of the Soviet MI-24 (Hind) helicopter.  Once CIA operatives instructed the Islamists how to employ these weapons, no Russian helicopter was safe.  How many of these Stinger missiles remained in Afghanistan after the CIA withdrew its support is unknown.  Still, at some point, the supplies diminished — driving Islamists to employ a much cheaper and easier to obtain weapon: the Rocket Propelled Grenade (RPG).

The RPG fires a shaped charge explosive warhead.  There are various warheads, but the most common is the high explosive (HE) round and high explosive anti-tank (HEAT) round.  Either of these is devastating to helicopters.

As it turned out, the Americans instructing mujahideen on fighting a sophisticated enemy combat force did an extraordinary job.  Radical Islamists later turned these skills toward the Americans once the United States decided to replace the Russian invaders in 2003.  Americans in Afghanistan have been digging graves ever since.

Extortion One Seven

CH-47D by LCPL D. NICHOLS/USMC

Members of the U. S. Navy’s Seal Team Six assaulted a Pakistani compound on 2 May 2011, killing the founder and leader of al-Qaeda, Osama bin Laden.  It was a CIA-led operation with the Joint Special Operations Command (JSOC) codenamed Operation Neptune Spear.  Operating alongside the Navy’s special warfare group was an element of the 160th Special Operations Aviation Regiment (Airborne) (Night Stalkers).  This operation ended a nearly ten-year search for bin Laden, the alleged mastermind of the 9/11 attack upon the United States.

One month earlier, the US Tenth Mountain Division turned control of Combat Outpost Tangi over to Afghan government forces.  It was an interesting “turnover” since the Afghan Defense Force (ADF) never actually occupied the base, so Taliban forces took the initiative to seize it for their use.  There could be a connection here, but I hesitate to judge.  In any event, US forces continued to operate in the Tangi area.  By 2011, the number of Taliban in Tangi was significant.  On 8 June, Taliban ground forces engaged a US Army CH-47 Chinook helicopter from five or six different locations with 14 separate RPG attacks forcing the overwhelmed helicopter to abandon its mission.

At about this same time, US intelligence determined that senior Taliban leader Qari Tahir might have operated from within the Tangi Valley.  Thus, the International Security Force (ISF) command group ordered American/Coalition forces working within Wardak Province to locate Tahir and capture or kill him.

Beginning around 22:30 hours (local time) on 5 August, a platoon of 47 Army Rangers departed their forward operating base in Logar Province aboard two CH-47D aircraft.  After a thirty-minute flight, the two helicopters landed near a compound believed to be the location of Tahir.  After disembarking the Rangers, the helicopters departed the area.  It was a high-risk operation.  Two AH-64 Apache gunships and an AC-130 gunship remained on station to provide intelligence, surveillance, and aerial reconnaissance of the area.  Seventeen SEALS served as a reserve force.

As the Rangers approached the designated compound, ISR aircraft observed numerous individuals leaving the compound, but the Rangers did not engage these people.  Apache aircraft did engage a different group of around eight insurgents, reporting six of these insurgents killed in action.  Meanwhile, ISR assets continued to observe the disengaged group, estimating between 9-11 fighters.  The on-site commander believed that these individuals might include Tahir.  At 0100, the task force commander directed the SEALS to engage these suspected insurgents.  The Aviation Brigade Commander took nearly an hour to approve a new landing zone for the SEAL infiltration.  At 02:00, the task force commander decided to increase the size of the SEAL Team from 17 to 33 warriors and then, to reduce transportation time, command authority loaded SEAL reinforcements into a single CH-47D; another aircraft served as a decoy that would land at a separate landing site.

While this part of the operation was unfolding, the Taliban force split into two sections.  At around 02:15, one team of three insurgents went to a stand of trees; the other group entered a building located 1.2 miles from the original compound.  Since the Apache helicopters were involved in tracking these two groups of insurgents, they could not offer security or fire support to either of the two in-bound CH-47Ds.

Six minutes out, the decoy CH-47D split off and returned to base.  The remaining helicopter, callsign Extortion One Seven, proceeded to the earlier landing zone.  One minute out, Extortion One Seven descended to an altitude of 100 feet and reduced its airspeed to around 58 knots.  A third group of Taliban previously undetected by the Americans fired 2-3 RPGs from a two-story building.  The second round fired struck Extortion One Seven’s aft rotor assembly.  Within five seconds, the CH-47D crashed and exploded, killing everyone on board.  It took the Apache aircraft another thirty seconds to report the 47’s destruction.

The official determination in the after-action report was “wrong place/wrong time.”  Such things do happen in war.  People die.  Suddenly.  But former Navy JAG Officer, Lieutenant Commander Don Brown,[2] disagrees.  He claims the US military intentionally concealed what happened to Extortion One Seven, much in the way the Army lied about the circumstances of Patrick Tillman’s death in 2004.

After reviewing all the evidence available to him (unclassified material), Brown concluded that military command sacrificed the SEAL Team through gross negligence during mission planning and covering up what happened.  As Brown understood the facts, seven ADF personnel slipped aboard Extortion One Seven without authority (a significant security breach), men who had no role in the operation.  Moreover, the rules of engagement (ROE) precluded pre-landing suppression fire within the CH-47D’s designated landing zone.  Brown argued that a pre-landing suppression fire would have saved Extortion One Seven from destruction.

On the issue of the seven ADF personnel, Brown contends that the remains of these men were flown to the United States and cremated, as reported in the Washington Times, leading Brown to conclude, “Something went terribly wrong inside that helicopter, and whatever went wrong was most likely beyond the pilot’s control.”  Brown also raises the question about a so-called helicopter black box, which the Army contends does not exist in that model aircraft.  But Commander Brown was adamant, asking why the Brigade commander sent Rangers back to the crash site looking for something that doesn’t exist.

Brown additionally claimed that the AC-130 gunship circling above the LZ spotted suspected Taliban insurgents moving on the ground toward Extortion One Seven’s designated landing site and requested permission to engage those insurgents.  According to Brown’s investigation, the task force commander denied the gunship permission to engage.  US Air Force Captain Joni Marquez, assigned to the AC-130 gunship at the time as firing officer, confirmed Brown’s assertions, and agreed with his conclusion that denying the gunship permission to engage sealed the fate of the CH-47D.

Conclusion

The cost in American lives from the US teaching a potential enemy how to kill our sons and daughters has been too high.  It is incomprehensible that any official of the US government would plant the seeds for a lethal future conflict for no other reason than to engage in an illicit relationship with a socialite.  Worse, Wilson soon had the full cooperation of the White House, CIA, and House of Representatives.

How many graves have we dug so far in the war on terror — graves that a US Congressman helped to dig?

Sources:

  1. Bergen, P.  Manhunt: The Ten Year Search for Bin Laden.  Crown Publishing, 2012.
  2. Bowden, M.  The Finish: The Killing of Osama Bin Laden.  Atlantic Monthly Press, 2012.
  3. Carter, S.  “Retired Air Force Captain says Pentagon covered up the real cause of deadly chopper crash.”  On-air broadcast, 18 April 2017.
  4. Herring, J. K.  Diplomacy and Diamonds: My Wars from the Ballroom to the Battlefield.  Center Street Publications, 2011.

Footnotes:

[1] Wilson’s motivation for starting the so-called Charlie Wilson War was his infatuation with Joanne Herring, a quite-wealthy anti-Communist crusader.  Herring, appalled by the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan in 1979, employed her feminine wiles in convincing Wilson to take up her cause of revenge against the Soviet Union.  Joanne Herring is also believed to have had an intimate relationship with Muhammad Zia-ul-Haq while serving as “Honorary Consul” at the Pakistani Consulate in Houston, Texas.  Osama bin-Laden may have been the founder and leader of al-Qaeda, but it may have been Joanne Herring who started it.  Treason, anyone?  Anyone?

[2] Brown served as legal counsel to Army Lieutenant Clint Lorance, who was charged and convicted for war crimes.  Brown’s subsequent book Travesty of Justice: The Shocking Persecution of Lt. Clint Lorance was a major factor in Lorance’s pardon by President Donald J. Trump in 2019. 


The England Raid

Overview

Within American naval history, John Paul Jones is one of the more revered Revolutionary War heroes.  How esteemed is John Paul Jones in Navy society?  Such that his remains are today enshrined at the United States Naval Academy, Annapolis, Maryland.

Today, it is possible to observe not one but two John Paul Jones.  The first Jones is the man who saw in himself a hero and a gentleman, one who, despite his low birth, glorified in his ability to rise to high social rank.  While there is little doubt that Jones’s accomplishments in service to the American Revolution were impressive, there was another Jones: arrogant, quarrelsome, immature, rash, and dishonest.  As one example, John Paul Jones designed a fake coat of arms to push forward his agenda.  He did this by combining the coat of arms of Paul with those of Jones — neither of which he could rightly claim.  His crass behavior sullied his reputation.  He was not someone to invite to a dinner party; he was inconsiderate, tiresome, and he would likely steal the silverware.

There are two groups of John Paul Jones “experts.” The first consists of those who rely too heavily upon the personal (and deeply exaggerated) stories told by John Paul Jones himself; the second group involves those who believe that the life and times of Captain Jones deserve deeper reflection.  As an example, early historians declare John Paul Jones as the father of the American Navy.  This claim is altogether untrue — but even worse, it is a claim so often repeated that it serves as an insult to those other early gentlemen who served with equal distinction.[1]

This so-called standard-bearer of the Continental Navy was named John Paul at birth. John had family living in the American colonies.  His brother William Paul settled near present-day Fredericksburg, Virginia.  When John was thirteen years old, his father apprenticed him to a sea captain named Benson, master of the commercial ship Friendship, which took John Paul to the Americas as part of a circuitous trade route.

Commercial shipping in those days was profitable for ship’s officers and crew because, in addition to the standard pay rate, ship’s owners often paid bonuses as a percentage of the cargo’s profits.  Between 1760 and 1768, John Paul served on several commercial ships.  In 1764, he served as Third Mate aboard King George.  In 1766, while serving aboard Two Friends, Paul advanced to First Mate.  In 1768, he abandoned that profitable position and returned to Scotland to seek a new appointment.  Later that year, while serving aboard the brig John at sea, the ship’s captain died from Yellow Fever.  Paul successfully navigated the ship back to port.  The ship’s owners were so pleased that they rewarded John by giving him command of the vessel and a guaranteed percentage of its profits.  He made two successful journeys to the West Indies in that capacity.

During the third voyage in 1770, one of the ship’s crew initiated a mutiny over crew wages.  Jones, then 23-years old, had the crewman flogged.  The flogging was severe, but what killed the man was Yellow Fever.  As it happened, the crewman was the son of a wealthy Scottish family.  Upon return to port, authorities arrested Paul, and he spent some time in prison until granted bail.  Although the crewman died of disease, the flogging incident damaged Paul’s reputation.  The incident prompted John Paul to change his name to John Paul Jones.

A second incident occurred while in command of the commercial ship Betsy when a crewman initiated a mutiny over crew wages.  Jones killed this crewman, whose name was Blackton, by running him through with a sword.  Jones later claimed the killing was in self-defense, but at the time, Jones refused to submit to the authority of an Admiral’s court.  Jones instead went to Virginia to help manage the affairs of his brother William, who had died intestate.

John Paul Jones

With the supporting endorsement of Richard Henry Lee, a Virginia statesman and signer of the Declaration of Independence, Jones successfully applied for a commission in the Continental Navy.  Congress offered a lieutenant’s commission to Jones in December 1775; his first assignment was the 24-gun frigate, USS Alfred.  After Alfred’s raid in Nassau, the Congresses Naval Committee appointed Jones to command the sloop USS Providence.  By the end of 1776, after seizing sixteen British vessels, Jones earned the reputation of a daring and resourceful officer.

USS Ranger was a 116-foot long sloop of war weighing around 314 tons.  The Continental Navy first commissioned this ship in 1777 and appointed John Paul Jones to command her.  On the ship’s first voyage across the Atlantic Ocean as a packet carrier, carrying messages to Benjamin Franklin in Paris, Jones captured two British vessels and sold them in France.  Arriving in France, Ranger was the first American navy ship to receive a salute from a foreign navy vessel.

In 1777, however, the French monarch had not decided to support the rebellious Americans.  The United States Minister to France, Benjamin Franklin, may have hedged his bet on the outcome of the American independence movement by establishing regular communications with British Prime Minister Frederick (Lord) North — or he may have initiated correspondence with North for no other purpose than to increase pressure on the French to support American independence.  If it was the second reason, it worked.  French statesman Charles Gravier, Count Vergennes, concerned that the American rebels and the British might solve their differences, urged King Louis XVI to support the American independence cause.  When the French government communicated its intent to help the Americans, Benjamin Franklin assumed (as an extension of his position as America’s foreign minister to France) the role of advanced base force commander.

Jones arrived in France believing that he would command L’Indien, an American ship under construction in Amsterdam.[2]  Jones made several efforts to press Franklin on this matter, but he was always put off and instructed to bide his time; he would receive his orders in due course.

On 16th January 1778, Benjamin Franklin summoned Jones to Paris.  Among Jones’s instructions, Franklin ordered him to equip his ship (Ranger) and prepare for operations against the British mainland.  As opportunity presented itself, Jones would assault British shipping and coastal settlements as a means of creating havoc among “enemies of the United States,” by sea or otherwise, consistent with the laws of war.

Franklin further directed Jones that since France was still a neutral power, he must avoid returning to France upon completion of his mission.  Franklin knew that the United States and France had reached an alliance agreement, but ratification of the accord was still pending.  Franklin and Silas Deane then sternly admonished Jones to give no offense to the subjects of France or any other neutral power lest he destroys any pendant diplomatic framework.

John Paul Jones, having accepted the views of Robert Morris, believed that effective use of the American navy entailed sending ships against an unsuspecting British enemy, to surprise them, to divert the enemy’s attention away from America’s seacoast, and force them to defend their coastal ports and settlements.  This, too, appears to have been the brainchild of Benjamin Franklin and Silas Deane in Paris.

It was several more weeks before Ranger was ready to sail.  The ship, although only recently commissioned, required new sails.  Shipwrights mounted Swivel guns in the fighting tops, altered bow ports to allow firing over the bow, and reprovisioning.

But Captain Jones did not command a happy ship. Ranger‘s officers were tired of Jones’s dalliances in Nantes and Loire, and they had no confidence in their captain’s “crazy schemes.”  Jones’s officers believed that his poorly contrived ideas would only bring them into mortal danger without the benefit of any subsequent prize money.  While still in Portsmouth, as part of his recruiting campaign, Jones promised his officers that they would make a fortune from seizing ships and selling them.  Still, so far in the Atlantic assignment, the crew had not received a single farthing after taking two enemy ships.[3]

Matthew Parke (1775)

There was another problem, as well.  The Naval officers serving aboard USS Ranger thoroughly detested the Marine commanding officer, Captain Matthew Parke.  Captain Parke intended to enforce the observance of proper decorum among the ship’s company.  He insisted, for example, on being addressed by his rank. Ship’s officers complained, “Since no captain of Marines is allowed to any ship or vessel under twenty guns, we take it as hardship peculiar to us, that a person in his capacity should remain in the ship to take the fourth part of the three twentieths which are the shares belonging solely to us (as lieutenants and master of the ship) of any prize money to be divided for her Officers and men.” The navy officers wanted to dispose of Parke and so requested that Captain Jones do so.

Captain Parke, fully aware of this animosity, submitted his resignation to Captain Jones, who, although disgusted with his lieutenants, accepted Parke’s resignation “with regret.” When Ranger arrived in Brest, Jones discharged Parke and replaced him with an army lieutenant named Jean Meijer.

When asked to explain his operational plan to Lieutenant Général le Comte d’Orviliers (Commander of the French Fleet at Brest), Jones proposed to descend upon some part of England, destroy merchant shipping, and kidnap a member of the nobility as a means of guaranteeing the lives (or possible exchange) of imprisoned Americans in England.[4]  Shortly afterward, Jones received orders to move Ranger to the Bay of Brest where the crew might enjoy liberty ashore and partake of French allurements.  Several of the crew, including Marines, took this opportunity to abandon naval service.

As Ranger made final preparations for sea, Marine Second Lieutenant Samuel Wallingford drilled the Ranger’s Marines in small arms proficiency.  The ship sailed on 8 April 1778.  On the 10th, Jones captured a brigantine carrying flaxseed, seized the cargo, and sank the vessel.   On the 17th, he seized a merchantman.  He detailed a prize crew to return the cargo ship to Brest.  A British revenue vessel challenged Ranger the next day but quickly withdrew when Jones went to battle stations.  Ranger’s surgeon later criticized Jones for not employing his Marines to fire into the cutter, as in his opinion, Jones could have quickly taken the enemy vessel.

On 19 April, Captain Jones seized a schooner and a sloop near the entrance of Firth of Clyde.  When Jones decided to sink both ships, his officers threw a tantrum.  The next day, while operating offshore from Carrickfergus, Jones learned from a fishing vessel that HMS Drake, a 20-gun sloop, was anchored nearby.  Jones decided to target Drake for a cutting out — but his officers refused.  They consented, instead, to surprise the British ship by entering the lough and anchoring to her windward side, which would expose the ship to Jones’ musketry.  Owing to poor weather, Jones decided to abandon his Plan B.

Operation Whitehaven

Whitehaven, England — on the northwest coast — was a small, insignificant port town.  A man like Stephen Decatur Sr. would never think of attacking Whitehaven.  On the other hand, Jones knew the British Isles like the back of his hand, and Whitehaven was the place from which he first began his maritime career.

By 22nd April, with the understanding that several commercial ships were at anchor at Whitehaven, Captain Jones prepared to execute a raid.  His officers, however, saw no point in the attack because it promised neither prize money nor naval advantage.  Navy lieutenants Thomas Simpson and Elijah Hall fomented rebellion among the crew.  Jones later observed that these men were inferior officers, for rather than building morale, they excited the men toward disobedience to orders.  Simpson and Hall managed to convince the crew that Ranger was a voting precinct, with the right to judge for themselves whether the captain’s plan was a good one.  Jones contributed to these officer’s further insubordination by failing to press the matter.

The raid on Whitehaven may have been audacious, but it was poorly executed and its result embarrassing.  As Ranger approached Solway Firth, the wind died away, and the ship was left to languish in swells.  At midnight, still, several miles away from Whitehaven, Jones ordered two boats lowered.  He would command one, with Lieutenant Meijer serving as his assistant; Second Lieutenant Wallingford would command the other boat, with Midshipman Benjamin Hill as his second.  In total, thirty men manned the boats.  It took several hours for both boats to arrive at the outer pier.

By then, dawn was just breaking. Without any noticeable concern about his discovery, Jones sent Wallingford’s boat to the northern end of the harbor with orders to set fire to the estimated 150 merchant ships at anchor.  Jones and his men scaled the port’s southern battery walls, spiked the guns, and apprehended four sentinels found asleep on post.  When Jones returned to his boat, he expected to see dozens of ships on fire — there were none.  Wallingford explained that he had lost his “fire” to light the ships.  Jones managed to set one ship on fire before realizing that the town was now up and about, and, as a deserter alerted the town that a raid was in progress, defenders began assembling along the water’s edge.

Captain Jones decided it was time to withdraw his raiders.  As the American navy rowed back to Ranger, the townspeople fired cannon at them and an occasional pistol, causing no damage to the raiding party.  Jones and his weary men arrived back aboard the ship at around 0700.[5]

The second stage of Jones’s plan was to sail across to St. Mary’s Isle, where he hoped to kidnap the Earl of Selkirk and carry him to France as a hostage for the better treatment of American prisoners.  The landing party included Jones, Wallingford, Ship’s Master David Cullam, and a dozen Marines and sailors.  After assigning one man to guard the boat, Jones led his party toward the Selkirk manor. 

Jones led his party ashore with Wallingford, Ship’s Master David Cullam, and a dozen sailors and Marines.  After posting a sentry to guard the boat, Jones led his party toward the Selkirk manor.  En route, Jones learned from the gardener that the Earl was away from home.  His mission a failure, Jones turned about intending to return to the ship.  Master Cullam objected, however, arguing that he and his crew should be allowed to loot the house.  Jones acquiesced, insofar as the sailors would be allowed to steal the silver, but nothing more.

Lady Selkirk handed over her silver upon Cullam’s demand.  In her later testimony, Lady Selkirk described Master Cullam as a disagreeable-looking man with the look of a blackguard.  On the other hand, she was quite impressed with Marine lieutenant Wallingford.  She characterized him as “…a civil young man, in a green uniform, an anchor on his buttons, which were white,” and “he seemed naturally well-bred and not to like his employment.” After filling several sacks of silver, Cullam and Wallingford accepted Lady Selkirk’s offer of a glass of wine, and they returned to the ship.

Conclusion

The Whitehaven raid was barely a footnote in history; the value of damage to enemy ships, cannon, and Lady Selkirk’s stolen silver was minuscule.  The operation did qualify as an early land action involving Continental Marines, but it was nothing worth remembering.

Conversely, the effects of Jones’s raid were tremendous.  The London Chronicle reported the raid stating, “A number of expresses have been dispatched to all capital seaports in the kingdom where any depredations are likely to be made; all strangers in this town are, but an order of the magistrates, to be secured and examined; similar notices have been forwarded through the country and, in short, every caution taken that the present alarming affair could suggest.”

Jones’s Whitehaven raid so aroused England that the Admiralty was forced to recall ships operating off the American seacoast to patrol the United Kingdom’s lengthy coastline — as Benjamin Franklin and Silas Deane knew it would.

Sources:

  1. Feld, J.  John Paul Jones’s Locker: The Mutinous Men of the Continental Ship Ranger and the Confinement of Lieutenant Thomas Simpson.  Washington: Naval History and Heritage Command, 2017.
  2. Hill, F. S.  Twenty-six Historic Ships: The story of certain famous vessels of war and of their successors in the navies of the United States and of the Confederate States of America from 1775-1902.  New York: Putnam, 1903.
  3. Smith, C. R.  Marines in the Revolution: A History of the Continental Marines in the American Revolution, 1775-1783.  Washington: Headquarters, U. S. Marine Corps, 1975.
  4. Griffiths, J.  The 1778 Whitehaven Raid.  United Kingdom History (online), 2015.
  5. U. S. Continental Congress, Journals of the Continental Congress, 1774-1789.  W. C. Ford & Gaillard Hunt, eds.  Library of Congress, 1904-37.

Endnotes:

[1] Esek Hopkins, John Burroughs Hopkins, Abraham Whipple, Stephen Decatur, Sr., and Nicholas Biddle. 

[2] Indien, later commissioned South Carolina was captured by the British in 1782.

[3] A farthing was valued at one-quarter of a penny. 

[4] The poor treatment of Americans under lock and key in England was well known to American sailors.  Jones apparently hoped to change Britain’s neglect of humanitarian treatment of its prisoners.

[5] As a demonstration of varying perspectives about the same event, British historians claim that on their way to the port, Jones’s men became distracted by the strong allure of the nearby public house.  It was here that this half of the crew became intoxicated and were unable to complete their mission.  American historians of the same period argue that heavy rain and gales stopped the operation in its tracks.  The weather conditions were so bad that none of the men were able to strike a light to set the ships on fire.


Chaplain

Background

In the days of the Merovingian dynasty (c. 450 – 751 AD), when Latin was still the language of the high-born, some people were called cappellani.  In the fourth century, the word referred to priests who dedicated themselves to preserving the religious relics of St. Martin of Tours.  St. Martin (b. 316 – d. 397 AD) was the patron saint of France, the father of the monastic life in Gaul, and the first “great leader” of Western Monasticism.  One of these relics was St. Martin’s half-cape (cappella).  St. Martin’s Cappella gave its name to the tent, later chapel, where the Cappella was preserved — over time, adding religious relics to the collection.  During the Carolingian dynasty (751 – 880 AD), and in particular, during the reign of Charlemagne, the priests who guarded St. Martin’s relics were called, in Old French, Chapelain.

In those days, Chaplains were appointed by the King, later Holy Roman Emperor.  They lived in the palace, and in addition to guarding the sacred relics, performed mass for the monarch on feast days, worked with the royal notaries[1] , and prepared any documents the emperor required of them.  In these duties, Chaplains gradually evolved into ecclesiastical and secular advisors to the king/emperor.  It became a tradition throughout western Christendom for monarchs to appoint their own chaplains.  Many of these chaplains became bishops.  This tradition continues today, as evidenced by the fact that the British Crown appoints members of the Royal College of Chaplains, although they no longer serve as the official keepers of records.

In modern usage, the term chaplain no longer addresses itself to any particular church or denomination.  Clergy and ministers appointed to various institutions (cemeteries, prisons, legislatures, hospitals, colleges, embassies, legations, and within the armed forces) are called chaplains.

Chaplains serve in the armed forces of most countries, usually as commissioned officers.  They are non-combatants and, as such, are not required to bear arms.  They may bear arms, if they choose, in defense of themselves and the sick or wounded.[2]  In the United States, Roman Catholic, Protestant, Jewish, and Moslem chaplains serve as chaplains in the Army, Navy, and Air Force.  Navy Chaplains provide the ecclesiastical needs of the Marine Corps.

U. S. Armed Forces chaplains provide religious services and advise their commander and fellow staff officers on religion, morality, and ethics.  They offer counseling services to service members and their families, operate pre-marriage counseling programs, make regular visitations to the sick and wounded, and provide opportunities for prayer services and last rites.  The Army, Navy, and Air Force Chief of Chaplains provide similar advice to the U. S. Secretary of Defense.

All military chaplains must be ordained and endorsed by a recognized religious organization.  A military chaplain’s rank is determined by years of service and criteria established by the military organization in which commissioned.  Chaplains are recognized in uniform by rank and religious affiliation.  The symbol for Christian Chaplains is the Roman Cross; a symbol of the Ten Commandments identifies Jewish Chaplains.  Moslem Chaplains wear a crescent as their religious symbol.

On 29 July 1775, the Continental Congress established the military chaplaincy, but chaplains did not wear a symbol of their faith until 1880.  In 1835, Army regulations required chaplains to wear black uniform coats without shoulder boards or symbols of rank.  The first symbol for chaplain was a shepherd’s crook or staff, approved in 1880;  the Latin Cross replaced the shepherd crook was adopted in 1898.  The first Jewish Chaplain was appointed during the American Civil War, but it wasn’t until World War I that Jewish Chaplains had their own religious symbol.

Navy Chaplains

On 28 November 1775, the Continental Navy published its regulations provided that, “The Commanders of the ships of the Thirteen United Colonies are to take care that divine service be performed twice a day on board, and a sermon preached on Sundays unless bad weather or other extraordinary accidents prevent.”  The Navy recognized the need for chaplains but did not foresee a requirement for uniformed attire or insignia of rank or religious affiliation until 1847.  At that time, the prescribed uniform was a black coat with a black collar and cuffs with no insignia.  In 1864, the Navy Department authorized Navy Chaplains to wear the standard uniform of commissioned officers and the symbol of the Latin Cross.  Essentially, Navy chaplains served “as officers without rank.”

In 1905, Navy Uniform Regulations provided that Chaplains would have ranks equivalent to line officers; they were to wear the standard navy officer’s uniform with the service braid in lustrous black (not gold as with line officers).  The Navy later modified this requirement in 1918 to include both the officer rank insignia and a gold cross.

Naval Staff Corps regulations discontinued the black braid and replaced it with the same gold braid worn by other officers – along with the Latin Cross.

In modern times, the Navy accepts clergy from religious denominations and faith groups, but an applicant’s request is contingent upon a favorable recommendation by their religious governing authority.  An applicant must meet the Navy’s requirements, including appropriate age and physical fitness.  Even after acceptance, the endorsing religious authority can revoke their endorsement at any time, the effect of which leads to the separation of the chaplain from naval service.

An applicant for service as a chaplain in the Navy must be a US citizen, be at least 21 years old, hold a post-graduate degree which includes 72-hours of study in theology, religious philosophy, ethics, and foundational writing.  Upon acceptance and commission, chaplains attend the Navy Chaplain School at Fort Jackson, South Carolina.  There is also a Chaplain Candidate Program Officer program for seminary students interested in obtaining a commission before completing their graduate studies.

The modern mission for Navy chaplains includes religious ministry, religious facilitation for all religious beliefs, caring for Navy, Marine Corps, and Coast Guard personnel (and their families), advising their commanding officers in spiritual matters, promote ethical and moral behavior, increase combat readiness through ministerial programs, improve morale and retention, and employ modern technology to support their missions.  Assisting Navy chaplains are enlisted religious program specialists.

Several Navy chaplains have distinguished themselves in combat, including Lieutenant Vincent Capodanno (Medal of Honor), Lieutenant Commander Joseph T. O’Callahan (Medal of Honor), Commander George S. Rentz (Navy Cross), Lieutenant Thomas N. Conway (Navy Cross),[3] and Lieutenant (Junior Grade) Aloysius H. Schmitt (Silver Star).  Navy ships were named in honor of O’Callahan, Rentz, and Schmitt.

There has seldom been a Navy chaplain far from the forward edge of the battle area, whether serving aboard ship or in the field with the Marines.  Pictured right, Navy chaplains conduct religious serves on Mount Suribachi, on Iwo Jima, Easter Sunday, 1945.

My personal salute to all military chaplains, particularly those of the U. S. Navy who, at the risk of their own lives, provide injured and dying Marines with comfort in their final moments.  In many cases, the face of a Navy Chaplain or a Navy Corpsman is the last face our mortally wounded Marines see.

Sources:

  1. Burgsma, H. L.  Chaplains with Marines in Vietnam (1962-1971).  Washington: Headquarters, U. S. Marine Corps, 1985.
  2. Drury, C. M.  History of the Chaplain Corps.  Washington: Navy Publications Center, 1994.

[1] In Gaul and early France, the title of Notary was an employee of the Royal Chancelleries, titled “Notaries of the King” and served as scribes in the royal seigniorial and communal courts of justice who maintained records of all official proceedings.

[2] I have only known one chaplain who wore a sidearm in combat – a Presbyterian.

[3] A Catholic Priest, Lieutenant Conway was assigned as the chaplain aboard USS Indianapolis when a Japanese submarine torpedoed the vessel off the Philippine Island of Leyte on 30 July 1945.  More than 800 crewmen were forced into the ocean, some of whom were badly injured, and remained at the mercy of nature for three days.  These men were severely dehydrated and suffered numerous shark attacks.  Only 316 men survived the ordeal.  Conway was recognized for swimming through shark infested waters to administer to suffering crewmen, saving as many as 67 men.  Conway was one of the crew who didn’t survive; he stood by these men when they needed him most.  His award was delayed for 75 years, finally presented to family members on 8 January 2021.

The Playboy Club

The entry to the Playboy Club was not what you might suspect. No sophisticated foyer with muted music and a warm greeting by a Bunny that an aerospace engineer would reject due to her high drag profile. Our entry had curious names, like the Bicycle Seat, the Heart, the Parrot’s Beak, or the Light Bulb. Through those doorways, we entered the Ho Chi Minh Trail area in Laos, adjacent to the North-South Vietnamese demilitarized zone.

The names referred to geographical landmarks easily made out from the air, shaped like the title they carried. We flew the TA-4 aircraft; our mission was high speed, low-level visual reconnaissance. In short, we were after intelligence concerning troop movements, truck parks, supply areas, guns—anything to help take the guesswork out of the command estimate of enemy capabilities.

TF-9J Cougar 001We weren’t always called Playboys. In 1966, we used the call sign Condole and did mostly support work: calling in close air support, adjusting artillery, and coordinating naval gunfire. Some referred to us as “Fast FAC,” or fast moving forward air controllers. We used a trusty old two-seater called the TF-9J Cougar, which proved slow and ill designed for mission requirements. The most frequent gripe was the radio: we had to wire an infantry backpack PRC-25 radio to the glare shield in the back seat, remove the flight helmet, and talk over a hand-held mike.

In 1969, the tandem seat TA-4 Skyhawk replaced the Cougar, and with it came the call sign “Playboy.”

We were a rag tag outfit, much like Pappy Boyington’s Black Sheep in World War II. We became an integral part of the Marine Air Group’s Headquarters and Maintenance Squadron (H&MS), which performed the important job of intermediate maintenance for the fighter and attack squadrons within the Group. In that respect, it was NOT rag tag. When it came to flying, the aircrews came from everywhere. Usually they were shuffling paper in a staff section somewhere within the Air Wing. The nucleus was, of course, a handful of pilots assigned to H&MS.

TA-4 001AThe men who joined the Da Nang Playboy Club were volunteers, and carefully screened by the skipper. The crews were selected based on reputation, experience (one previous combat tour), and demonstrated professionalism. Initially composed of only pilots, four Naval Flight Officers (NFOs) were accepted during 1970. Three of the four were FAA rated pilots, and two of the three were eventually able to use their flying skills during the course of the program. Toward the end of the mission, the process of selecting pilots and aircrew was highly discriminating.

Our working area on the trail covered about 2,700 square miles, and we flew between one hundred and 1,500 feet above ground level as fast as that little bucket of bolts would go. It took quite a few flights before pilots and aircrew developed their 400-knot eyeball, but we did engage our targets, and we did collect valuable intelligence. The key to our mission effectiveness was “trail experience.” Aircrew eventually developed the capability of determining whether a group of bushes had moved from one day to the next, or if a clump of vegetation hadn’t been there the day before. Moving bushes usually received a bomb, or two.

And, we learned to respect the enemy. Under constant surveillance and attack, he moved people, supplies, and constructed vast road networks with only basic equipment. And he did this in a systematic and successful way against the most highly industrialized and technologically sophisticated nation in the world. From that experience came the frustrating question, “How can they do that when we’re working so hard to oppose them?” The answer is both simple and complex; it forms the basis of our question of involvement in the first place.

We considered ourselves an unusual group, yet looking back we were only a cross section from any town in the United States. We had a Baptist preacher, and a hard-drinking, cigar chewing poker player. Some of these men became legends in their own time, now forgotten except among their comrades.

In the 19 months of the Playboy operations, we lost only one aircraft. Rick Lewis won the Silver Star by helping his back-seater during a rescue effort, and calling in air strikes against enemy gun emplacements. Don Schwaby, in another incident, had just entered the operations area when a small arms round hit the nose of his aircraft, went through the instrument panel, and continued into his oxygen mask. The slug came to rest between his lips, against his teeth, and never even broke the skin. Not many guys catch bullets that way.

The only death that resulted from the program was a shock to the squadron. After operating for so long in such a high-threat environment, we all had taken several hits. But we all came back. After all, Rick Lewis was a walking example. Lieutenant Colonel George Ward, groomed to take command of the squadron in only a few weeks, was shot through the head while on a mission. The back-seater flew the plane back to the base. A squadron commander shapes the personality of his unit; we all felt his loss. Reacting to his loss, higher authority imposed an altitude restriction on the squadron —no lower than five grand. But that was too high to do the job, so back down into the grass we flew. Later, as I watched the evacuation of Saigon on television, I thought about George Ward.

The Playboy Program ended during September 1970. I returned to the 2nd Marine Aircraft Wing at Cherry Point, North Carolina in December of that year. For a long time, I felt that I had been involved in the most exciting, professionally demanding, and personally challenging era of my life. And I was content in the knowledge that, as Patton suggested, if my son asked me what I did in Viet Nam, I would NOT have to tell him, I shoveled shit in Louisiana.

P Chapman July 2013In the years that have passed, several Playboys have tried to hold a reunion. It has never been successful. In the past, our duty assignments spread us so far apart, and since then we have all retired from active service. I’m quite certain our after-action reports gather dust in an obscure file drawer somewhere… As a group, we paid some very special dues to our country, to our Corps, and ourselves. Yet, if my son asks me what is or has been especially exciting to me as a Marine, I’ll have to answer, “The job I did today, and the one I get to do tomorrow.”

Semper Fidelis

Major Paul Webb Chapman, USMC (Retired)

Playboy 37

Blackie Cahill’s Fight

Some Background

At dawn on 25 June 1950, the North Korean People’s Army (NKPA) unleashed massive artillery fire into the Republic of (South) Korea (ROK).  On the heels of the barrage, the NKPA invaded the ROK with a force of 135,000 troops organized into eight infantry divisions, 24 artillery regiments, 120 Soviet T-34 tanks, five constabulary brigades, and 180 Soviet aircraft.

Understandably, the South Korean people were terrified, illustrated by a massive surge of refugees heading south from Seoul to safer locations.  However, they wouldn’t find any haven because the NKPA seized the ROK capital in two days and then continued their attack south.  The communists intended to seize the entire Korean peninsula.  Thousands of refugees preceded the NKPA forces — their legs moving as fast as possible to escape the slaughter.  The people were terrified, and by mid-July 1950, the United States and South Korean governments had done nothing to allay those fears.

The U. S. Army occupation forces stationed in Japan did what they could to stop the invasion, but they were young soldiers, untrained, inexperienced, inadequately equipped, poorly led, and sent to confront the NKPA in insufficient strength to stop the onslaught.  Throughout July, US Army forces experienced one defeat after another.  In time, victory over the Americans is what the NKPA commanders came to expect.

Every day, thousands of refugees streamed into the southeastern city of Pusan, seeking protection.  For the most part, the South Korean refugees were simple people.  They didn’t understand any of the reasons for this sudden war.  What they did know was that their lives were in jeopardy.  They had witnessed the NKPA’s ruthlessness; they had seen American Army slaughtered and overwhelmed.  The fear among the refugees was palpable.  One American journalist noted that in Pusan, one could almost smell the fear in the people — their panic worsening with each passing day.

But then, beginning in the late afternoon of 2 August 1950, a remarkable and easily observable transition began taking shape. American ships began arriving in the port city of Pusan.  The word went out.  These ships were carrying United States Marines.  People started crowding around the docks; they wanted to know more.  Unloading operations began as soon as the ships tied up along a pier.

Early the next morning, Marines began to form upon the pier.  They were dressed in combat uniforms, were well-armed, and carried field packs on their backs.  There were close to 5,000 men when assembled—a color guard formed in front of the Brigade.  A large crowd of Korean civilians stood back and observed the goings-on.  The Koreans no doubt wondered if these soldiers would save them; they may have noted that if any of these American Marines were fearful, it didn’t show in their demeanor or expressions.  Word quickly spread throughout the city.  There was still hope.

Although the average age of these young men was only 19½ years, they exuded discipline, confidence, and determination.  There was nothing timid about these youngsters; they understood their mission: find the enemy and kill him.[1]  It didn’t take long for NKPA commanders to realize that the tide was turning against them.

While company and platoon officers and NCOs mustered Marines on the pier, their Commanding General, Brigadier General Edward A. Craig, concluded his meeting with his subordinate commanders and senior staff.  Colonel (select) Raymond L. Murray commanded the 5th Marine Regiment.  Lieutenant Colonel George Newton commanded 1st Battalion; Lieutenant Colonel Harold Roise commanded 2nd Battalion, and Lieutenant Colonel Robert Taplett[2] commanded 3rd Battalion.  Craig issued his “commander’s guidance” (See also: The Fire Brigade), concluding with this strict admonition:

The Pusan perimeter is like a weakened dike; the Army intends to use us to plug the holes as they open.  We’re a brigade —a fire brigade.  It will be costly fighting against a numerically superior enemy.  Marines have never lost a battle; this Brigade will not be the first to establish such a precedent.  Prepare to move.”

Within an hour, the Marines of the 1st Provisional Marine Brigade were en route toward a small town named Chang-won, the designated assembly area for the Eighth US Army reserve.

The Tactical Situation

The Battle of Osan was the first significant US engagement inf the Korean War.  Headquarters, Eighth U.S. Army, ordered Task Force Smith (1st Battalion, 21st Infantry Regiment (reinforced)) (1/21 INF) to set up a blocking position against an overwhelming NKPA force on 5 July.  It was an unreasonable assignment and failed to slow the NKPA assault for more than a couple of hours.  Task Force Smith suffered 180 dead, wounded, scattered, and/or captured.  NKPA soldiers bound some of the American prisoners with their hands behind their backs and then executed them.

As elements of the 24th Infantry Division (24 ID) arrived in Korea from Japan, the NKPA continued to press south, pushing American and South Korean forces back at Pyeongtaek, Cho-nan, and Chochiwon.  At the Battle of Taejon, 24 ID suffered 3,602 dead and wounded.  Nearly 3,000 U.S. soldiers were taken, prisoner.  The NKPA continued their attack.

By the time the Marines arrived on 2 August Eighth Army’s position was unsustainable.  US/ROK forces occupied a tiny section of the Pusan Perimeter’s southeast corner.  General Walton H. Walker, commanding the Eighth Army, had traded space for time.  All that remained in US hands was a small sector 90 miles long and 60 miles wide.  General Douglas MacArthur, Supreme Commander of the Allied Powers (SCAP), ordered soldiers in by the thousands.  Not only did Walker need fighting units, but he also needed replacements for the dead and wounded.  The first to arrive included the 1st Cavalry Division (1 CAV), 2nd Infantry Division (2 ID), and 25th Infantry Division (25 ID).

Walker faced two critical challenges.  First, because replacements were arriving in piecemeal fashion, General Walker could only plug them into units positioned at critical junctions.  They could not attack the enemy; they could only hold these key positions — and even that was dicey.  The second problem was that Walker’s reinforcements, while fresh from stateside or territorial commands, were still only minimally trained.  Most of these men had no previous combat experience.  Walker worried because if the Eighth Army lost the Pusan Perimeter, there would be no way to land further replacements or supplies — and no way to withdraw any survivors.

The Battle for Hill 342[3]

General Walker designated the 25th ID as Task Force Kean, after the division commander, Major General William B. Kean.  Walker assigned Craig’s Brigade to reinforce Task Force Kean.  Kean’s subordinate units included the 24 INF, 27 INF, 35 INF, and the 5th Regimental Combat Team (5 RCT).

On 6th August, Colonel Murray led his 5th Marines toward Chindong-ni.  General Kean intended to replace the 27 INF with the 5th Marines.  Lieutenant Colonel Taplett’s 3/5 (reinforced) moved toward Changwon to replace 2/27 INF on the line two miles outside Chindong-ni, where the road to Mason takes a sharp northward turn into the village of Tosan.[4]

Taplett effected the relief of 2/27 INF within two hours, establishing his command post (CP) on the first step of Hill 255 co-located with Weapons Company, 3/5.[5]  Temporarily under the operational control of HQ 27 INF, Taplett answered to Colonel John H. Michaelis, the army regiment’s commander.  Taplett’s mission was to provide a blocking force; he needed a tight defensive line to do that.

Lieutenant Colonel Taplett ordered Captain Fegan to set in his Company H (How Company) above his CP to have a good field of observation of enemy movements.  Taplett directed First Lieutenant Robert D. Bohn, commanding Company G (George Company), to set in two rifle platoons on Hill 99, situated west of Hill 255, and one platoon on a small knoll at the base of Hill 255.

Lieutenant Bohn directed the 1st Platoon to take the knoll position.  Commanding 1st Platoon was Second Lieutenant John J. H. Cahill, USMC.[6]  Cahill’s platoon was reinforced by a 75mm recoilless rifle platoon.[7]

The six platoons of George and How companies shared a tactical area of responsibility (TAOR) extending some 3,000 yards. Taplett’s only reserve force consisted of the headquarters element.[8]  Shortly after midnight on 7th August, Colonel Michaelis ordered Taplett to dispatch a rifle platoon to reinforce Baker Company, 1/27 INF atop Hill 342.  Taplett contacted Colonel Murray (CO, 5th Marines) to argue that he could ill-afford lose one-sixth of his infantry force.  Murray explained that General Dean had ordered Hill 342 held at all costs, and Taplett must provide the platoon.

Taplett assigned the mission to First Lieutenant Bohn; Bohn tasked Blackie Cahill.

Hill 342 was a massive molar-shaped structure rising steeply from the MSR west of Chindong-ni, extending northward 2,000 yards to another hill mass that was nearly 2,000 feet in elevation.  Elements of the NKPA 6th Infantry Division occupied the second hill mass.  The terrain was steep, the footing unsure, and the hillside inundated with shrub vegetation.  Before leaving 3/5’s perimeter, Taplett ordered Cahill reinforced with a machinegun squad and a radio operator.  None of Cahill’s men had more than a couple of hours of rest before embarking on this relief mission.

There was one minor glitch: Cahill reached Colonel Michaelis’ CP near a bridge south of Hill 99 at around 03:00.  Michaelis being absent, the regimental operations officer directed Cahill to proceed 700 yards further down the MSR and reported to the CO 2nd Battalion, 5 RCT (2/5 RCT), whose CP was located just north of the MSR at the tip of Hill 342’s eastern-most base. The Army operations officer informed Cahill that he wasn’t reinforcing Company B; he was replacing it.  27 INF needed this rifle company as part of General Kean’s reserve force.  5 RCT could not relieve Company B because 5 RCT was scheduled to begin an offensive within a few hours.

2ndLt Cahill no doubt wondered how a rifle platoon could realistically replace an infantry company, but Cahill was a combat veteran, and he made no bones about it.  After a quick briefing by an operations officer at 2/5 RCT’s CP, a guide led Cahill and his platoon northward, skirting the western base of Hill 352.  A few hundred yards along, the army guide discovered that he had lost his way in the darkness.  A few enemy artillery shells landed nearby, but there were no casualties.  When Cahill’s column reached the end of the valley, rifle fire erupted, wounding two Marines.  The army guide advised Cahill that he should not begin his climb until dawn because of the slippery footing and the nervous condition of Baker Company’s soldiers.  At 0500, Cahill’s Marines had marched 3 miles from Hill 99.

At dawn, Cahill realized that the earlier rifle fire had come from soldiers of 2/5 RCT, spooked by the Marine’s movements in the pitch-black early morning hours.  Cahill took the lead in the climb.  At first, the Marines made good progress, but the heat soon became a war-stopper.  The temperature was around 112 degrees.  Cahill’s Marines began gasping for air, sweating profusely, and stumbling on the steep, slippery pathways.  For every five steps upward, they slipped back three.  Water discipline collapsed, and canteens soon emptied.  It wasn’t long before Cahill’s Marines began collapsing from heat exhaustion, and some of these young men lost consciousness — they were on the verge of having a heat stroke.  Cahill’s platoon became a ragged file, but as Cahill’s NCOs urged the men forward, Cahill increased his pace and proceeded to the crest of the hill.

Cahill finally reached Hill 342’s summit at around 08:30, where he met the Army company commander.  The captain began briefing Cahill on his company’s defensive positions.  Baker Company, he explained, had been under continuous enemy fire within their triangle-shaped perimeter.  All three of the Company’s platoons were shattered.  Just as Cahill’s platoon began straggling into the army perimeter, NKPA forces opened fire from well-concealed positions from an adjacent hill.  Cahill’s NCOs quickly set the Marines into firing positions.  So far, Cahill had lost one man killed, six others wounded.  Considering both combat and heat casualties, Cahill’s 52-man platoon at the base of Hill 342 had only 37 effectives at its summit.  NKPA intensive fire had a demoralizing effect on the soldiers, and it was all the unit’s officers could do to keep them in their defensive positions.  In a brilliant move, Cahill suggested to the Army commander that he set Marines into positions among the soldiers.  Cahill understood service rivalry; knowing that the soldiers and Marines were eyeing one another, service pride kicked in, and the troops on the line, both Army and Marine, settled down to the business at hand.  Cahill lost two additional Marines to enemy fire as his NCOs were setting them into position.

Improvise — Adapt — Overcome

At noon, several companies of NKPA troops assaulted the summit of Hill 342 supported by intense machine gunfire.  Despite the onslaught, Marines and soldiers delivered well-aimed return fire.  However, the situation was desperate, and Baker Company was ordered by 5 RCT to remain in-place until a larger force of Marines could relieve them.  2ndLt Cahill used his radio to call in Army artillery support to silence enemy mortars.  As the artillery unit registered its fires, Cahill looked for and spotted an enemy, forward observer.  Yet, despite the artillery battery’s accurate barrage, NKPA mortars continued to rain down on the soldiers and Marines.  Then, with water and ammunition becoming in short supply, Cahill radioed in for an airdrop.  Within a short time, a USAF R4D flew over Hill 342 and dropped badly needed ammunition and water —  the resupply landed amid the enemy positions.

Cahill was back on the radio in short order.  1stMarBde handed the resupply mission to Marine Observation Squadron (VMO)-6, whose OY-2 aircraft dropped ammunition and water inside the Baker Company perimeter.  But, as the water cans hit the earth, most exploded, and the Marines and soldiers had to make do with only a few mouthfuls of water each.  Cahill’s Sergeant Macy volunteered to lead a patrol in search of water.  With permission granted, Macy and a few volunteers descended the southeastern slope under enemy fire, lugging 5-gallon cans along with them.  Meanwhile, the NKPA was working to surround and cut off Hill 342

While Cahill was making his way toward Hill 342, the rest of Taplett’s 3/5 (set in along the base of Hill 255) came under enemy mortar fire beginning at around 02:30 on 7 August.   Taplett was anxious about the situation with Cahill, but there was nothing he could do about it until sun up.

At around 02:00, Lieutenant Colonel Roise’s 2/5 began moving by truck to its terminus at the base of Hill 255.  NKPA delivered devastating mortar fire.  Roise was fortunate to lose only one Marine killed and eleven wounded — including Captain George E. Kittredge, the CO of Easy Company, 2/5.  Once 2/5 arrived in the vicinity of Hill 255, operational control of 2/5 and 3/5 reverted to Colonel Murray.  Murray ordered Roise to occupy Hill 99.  After repositioning 1/5, George Company 3/5 rejoined Taplett’s main body.

General Keane planned for 5 RCT to begin its assault at 0500, but the advance was stopped cold in the first hour.  The NKPA were not particularly impressed with Kean’s assault; they launched an attack of their own.  Cahill’s fight on Hill 342 constrained the entire 2nd Battalion, 5 RCT, in its attempt to hold open the Chinju Road.  Attaching Cahill’s platoon to Baker Company — and leaving the army company in place — was helping to do that, but the 5 RCT’s second battalion was temporarily lost to the regiment.

General Keane was desperate.  He ordered Murray to provide a battalion to relieve 2/5 RCT, and the mission assigned to 1/5.  Colonel Roise’s mission was to relieve the army battalion and clear the area of enemy forces.  Keane then ordered Craig to assume command of all forward units in the Chindong-ni area.[9]

When 2/5 reached the base of Hill 342, Colonel Roise ordered Dog Company to ascend the north fork toward Hill 342’s eastern spur and seize both the spur and the great hill.  First Lieutenant William E. Sweeney, newly appointed commander of Easy Company, was ordered to pass behind Sangnyong-ni and seize the western spur.  It was a wide dispersal of a light battalion, but Murray needed Roise to protect the valley between the two spurs and this was the only way he could do it.  The CO of D Company was Captain John Finn.  As the company ascended Hill 342, the Marines, having spent a sleepless night, began to experience the effects of rapidly increasing heat.  Thirty minutes into the climb, Finn’s Marines encountered rifle and machine gun fire.  Roise’s Operations Officer, Major Morgan J. McNeely, had previously told Finn that he would encounter no organized enemy resistance.  The constant chatter of Chinese-made burp guns proved McNeely wrong.

Finn called together his platoon commanders, assigning each a route to ascend Hill 342.   2nd Platoon, under Second Lieutenant Wallace J. Reid, was ordered to push through Taepyong-ni and begin his climb at its juncture with the spur.  Second Lieutenant Edward T. Emmelman would lead his 3rd Platoon to the top of the spur from the left.  Second Lieutenant Arthur A. Oakley, commanding 1st Platoon, would hold the right flank and ascend the southern slope of Hill 342.  Enemy opposition was scattered, but before Dog Company reached the crest of the spur, five Marines had received gunshot wounds.  As with Cahill’s Marines, Captain Finn’s men were suffering the effects of heat exhaustion in the triple-digit heat.

Captain Finn ordered his executive officer (XO), First Lieutenant Robert T. Hannifin, to establish the company headquarters and mortar section on the high ground directly above Taepyong-ni.  At dusk, Dog Company was still several hundred yards from the summit of Hill 342.  Finn radioed Roise for permission to rest his men for the night.  While Finn was communicating with Roise, 2ndLt Oakley climbed to the summit and contacted Cahill and the Baker Company commander — both of whom accompanied Oakley to Finn’s position.  The Army CO advised Finn to remain in place until early the next morning and Roise agreed.

During the early morning hours of 8 August, NKPA troops covertly approached the perimeter of Hill 342.  At first light, the enemy assaulted the crest of the hill.  The fight turned into a gruesome hand-to-hand struggle.  Soldiers and Marines repelled the attack, but not without taking serious casualties.  One Marine died from gunshot and bayonet wounds.  Captain Finn’s three platoons assaulted the hill, brushing aside enemy resistance and joining what was left of Baker Company and Cahill’s platoon.  While effecting the relief, NKPA rifle and automatic weapons punished the perimeter with intensive fire.

Once Dog Company was in possession of the summit perimeter, Baker Company and Cahill’s Marines descended the hill.  Cahill had lost one-third of his men.  Captain Finn fared no better.  NKPA fire killed several of his men while setting in their defenses, including 2ndLt Oakley and 2ndLt. Reid.  2ndLt Emmelman received a serious head wound.  As Captain Finn moved forward to recover Reid’s body, he too was struck in the shoulder and head.

First Lieutenant Hannifin, assigned to direct the company headquarters and mortar platoon, moved forward to join the rest of Company D at the summit.  Just below the summit, he encountered the First Sergeant, who was helping to evacuate Captain Finn.  Hannifin learned that he was now the CO of Dog Company.  He was also the only officer remaining alive in the company.  In the absence of officers commanding platoons, the NCOs stepped up.

1stLt Hannifin reached the summit of Hill 342 with just enough time to organize the defenses and set in his mortars before the NKPA initiated a second attack.  The Marines beat back the assault, killing dozens of the attackers, but the company had lost and additional six killed and 25 wounded.  While speaking with Roise on the field radio, Hannifin collapsed due to heat exhaustion.  Master Sergeant Harold Reeves assumed command of Dog Company.  Second Lieutenant Leroy K. Wirth, a forward observer from 1/11 assumed responsibility for all supporting arms, including aircraft from MAG-33 circling overhead.  Both Reeves and Wirth exposed themselves to enemy fire by ranging forward to call in airstrikes and reassess their tactical situation.

Easy Company 2/5 moved forward along the western spur of Hill 342 and dug in.  Colonel Roise dispatched Captain Andrew M. Zimmer, who was serving as 2/5’s assistant operations officer, to take command of Dog Company.  NKPA forces continued to harass Zimmer’s Marines at the summit, but because the enemy had taken a massive number of casualties in the fight, they gave the Marines of Dog Company a wide birth.

Major Walter Gall, commanding Weapons Company 2/5, dispatched a combat patrol to eliminate NKPA machine guns in Tokkong-ni.  Unable to dislodge the communists, the patrol returned to Gall and briefed him on the enemy situation.  With this information, 1stLt Ira T. Carr unleashed his 81mm mortar section and all enemy activity in Tokkong-ni ended.

On the afternoon of 9 August, an Army unit relieved Dog Company at the summit and 2/24 INF relieved Roise’s 2/5 of its responsibility for Hill 342.  Documents later retrieved from enemy dead revealed that the NKPA forces engaged with soldiers and Marines at the summit were members of the 13th and 15th Regiments of the NKPA 6th Infantry Division.  Cahill reported a conservative estimate of 150 dead communists in the hill fight, in total around 400 enemy KIA, but the actual number is unknown.  What is known is that between 500 to 600 communist troops challenged the Marines and soldiers to the right to possess Hill 342 — and lost.

For his effort atop Hill 342, then Second Lieutenant Blackie Cahill received the Silver Star medal and a Purple Heart.  The courageous Marine officer would later receive three additional Purple Heart medals and the Bronze Star.

Sources:

  1. Appleman, R. E.  South to the Naktong, North to the Yalu.  Washington: Department of the Army, 1998.
  2. Catchpole, B.  The Korean War.  London: Robinson Publishing, 2001.
  3. Geer, A.  The New Breed: The Story of the U.S. Marines in Korea. New York: Harper & Bros., 1952.
  4. Hastings, M.  The Korean War.  New York: Simon & Schuster, 1988.
  5. Varhola, M. J.  Fire and Ice: The Korean War, 1950-1953.  Mason City: Da Capo Press, 2000.

Endnotes:

[1] Sixty-five percent of the Brigade’s officers and NCOs were combat veterans from World War II.

[2] Bob Taplett (1918-2004) served with distinction as a Marine officer for twenty years, serving in World War II and the Korean War.  He was awarded the Navy Cross and two awards of the Silver Star medal in recognition of his courage under fire.  Retiring in 1960, Taplett authored an autobiography titled Darkhorse Six, which was published in 2003.

[3] Hill 342 stood 342 meters above sea level (1,122 feet), a substantial climb in full combat gear in 112° temperatures.

[4] General Kean’s plan was to withdraw 27 INF to serve in division reserve, replacing it with 5th Marines.  The Army’s 5 RCT would serve on the Marine’s right flank.

[5] The 5th Marines, hastily formed for combat duty at Camp Pendleton, departed California on 7 July.  The regiment was understrength.  Typically, a Marine infantry battalion consists of an H&S Company, Weapons Company, and three rifle companies.  This is the standard configuration for a maneuver unit.  In July 1950, Murray’s battalions consisted of an H&S Company, Weapons Company, and two rifle companies.  These personnel shortages were the result of President Truman’s scheme to gut the U.S. military following World War II.

[6] Second Lieutenant John J. H. (“Blackie”) Cahill (1924-2005) served in the U. S. Marine Corps (1939-1974).  There is not much that we know about Cahill, beyond the fact that he likely served aboard ship during the New Guinea campaign, later participated in the island campaigns of the Gilbert Islands, at Cape Gloucester, Peleliu, and Okinawa as an enlisted Marine.  He may have left active service at the end of World War II to attend college.  In 1950, Cahill was a 2nd Lieutenant with Company G, 3rd Battalion, 5th Marines during the battle for Pusan.  He later served with the 5th Marines at the Chosin Reservoir.  He later served three tours of duty in Vietnam, notably at the Battle of Khe Sanh when he commanded 1st Battalion, 9th Marines.  Cahill’s twin brother Vincent also served in World War II in the Army Air Corps.  Colonel Vincent S. Cahill retired from the U.S. Air Force in 1976.

[7] The 75mm Recoilless Rifle was a tripod-mounted weapon weighing 114.5 pounds.  It fired HE, HEAT, and WP rounds, had a range of 7,000 yards, and was effective against T-34 tanks within 400 yards.  A RR platoon consisted of four rifles/14 Marines.

[8] Every Marine, regardless of MOS, is a qualified infantry rifleman.

[9] General Craig was underwhelmed with 5 RCT’s performance; there was, in his opinion, no good reason for the army regiment’s lack of advance — except that the forward area was confused.  In the one-lane dirt roads, military traffic had jammed the MSR and none of the US forces could advance or withdraw.  Craig realized that the slowness of the 5 RCT’s advance had opened the door to the NKPA, which had launched its own attack.