Operations in the Dominican Republic, Part I

1917-4 EGAIt is often proclaimed that Christopher Columbus discovered America. He did no such thing.  What he did do is depart Spain with no clear idea about where he was going.  Then he quite miraculously bumped into an island, a large one, located in the present-day Greater Antilles.  At that time, Columbus didn’t know where he was.  He named the island Insula Hispana (Latin) or in Spanish, La Isla Española.  When he returned to Spain, he could not, with any degree of certainty, tell his employers where he’d been.  Clearly, however, Columbus did set into motion the beginning of an almost unbelievable Spanish Empire, both in terms of land and wealth.

The indigenous people of Hispaniola called themselves Arawak/Taino people.  The Arawak originated in Venezuela, traveling to their island paradise around 1200 A.D. Each settlement was a small independent kingdom.  At the peak of this society, there were five separate kingdoms.  There may have been as many as 750,000 people living on Hispaniola.

Typical of Hispanic society, Columbus and all those who came after him enslaved the natives.  It is a sad story, of course and one repeated many times at every location the Spanish conquistadores placed their boots in the Americas.  Also typical of the Spaniards, interest in Hispaniola waned as Spain conquered new regions on the mainland.  In 1665, the French began their colonization of the Island; they called it Santo Domingo.  In 1697, Spain ceded the western third of the island to France.  Santo Domingo quickly came to overshadow the eastern two-thirds in both wealth and population.  Under the French, with a system of enslavement used to grow and harvest sugar cane, Santo Domingo became the richest colony in the West Indies. Slavery kept the cost of production low and maximized profits.  It was also an important port for goods flowing to and from France and Europe.

Still, Santo Domingo was no paradise; tropical diseases created a high death-rate among European colonists.  Added to this were a series of slave uprisings in the late eighteenth century.  During the French Revolution in 1791, a major slave revolt broke out on Saint-Domingue. France abolished slavery in their colonies in 1794 and many of the ex-slave army joined forces with France in its European wars.  In 1795, Spain ceded the eastern two-thirds of Hispaniola to the French.  It became the Dominican Republic and French settlers began to colonize some areas in the Spanish side of the territory.

In 1802, Napoleon reimposed slavery in most of its Caribbean islands, a decision reinforced by French army garrisons.  Yellow fever [1] ended up killing off many of these soldiers. After the French removed its remaining 7,000 troops in 1803, revolutionary leaders declared western Hispaniola the new and independent nation of Haiti.  France continued to rule Santo Domingo but in 1805, Haitian forces under General Henri Christophe attempted conquest of all Hispaniola.  A show of force by the French caused Christophe to withdraw back to Haiti.  In 1808, following Napoleon’s invasion of Spain, the criollos [2] of Santo Domingo revolted against the French and, with the aid of Great Britain, Santo Domingo was returned to Spanish rule.

Concerned about the influence of a society that had successfully fought and won against their enslavers, the United States and European powers refused to recognize Haiti (the second Republic in the Western Hemisphere).  To settle this issue, France demanded a rather substantial payment for compensation to slaveholders who lost their property, the effect of which threw Haiti into debt for many decades.  Haiti became (and remains) one of the poorest countries in the Americas, while the Dominican Republic gradually developed into one of the largest economies of the Central American-Caribbean region.

It was not long before the Dominicans began to regret their return to Spanish authority.  The Spaniards were cruel masters.  In 1821, Santo Domingo joined with other Caribbean and South American territories in declaring independence from Spain.  Initially, the Dominicans expressed a desire to attach their country to the new Republic of Columbia, far to the south.  Instead of that ever happening, independence brought new foreign domination: in 1822, the Haitian government sent troops to conquer its neighbor, which could offer no resistance.  From then until 1844, Haiti ruled Santo Domingo.  During this period, the Haitians made a concerted effort to stifle all Dominican cultural and economic activity.  Santo Domingo was reduced to a nation of economic stagnation and cultural and psychological despair.

In 1844, Dominican nationalists succeeded in throwing off the Haitian yoke of domination.  It was the beginning of the emergence of the modern Dominican Republic.  It was a rough road, however.  Throughout the nineteenth century, the Dominican people experienced a succession of corrupt and arbitrary rulers who maintained themselves in power by playing upon the people’s fears of Haitian domination. The rule of caudillos [3] in Santo Domingo was also not a new story in Hispanic America: caudillos diverted the nation’s meager resources to serve their own personal designs.

Of these, General Ulises Heureaux [4] was among the most destructive. Keeping himself in power by methods that foreshadowed those of modern totalitarian regimes, Heureaux brought modest economic growth and strengthened the armed forces from a centralized government, which is also a consistent element of Hispanic governments.  He also fostered corruption and violence in Dominican politics and vastly increased the national debt by borrowing money from European and American banks —banks that expected their governments to support their claims for repayment and collect debts.

A succession of governments who found themselves in trouble at home made a habit of borrowing money from foreign governments; when the payment on the debts became due (or overdue), corrupt politicians often attempted to play their foreign creditors off against one another as a means of preventing foreign military intervention, which their behaviors in fact invited.

During the 1890s, a group of idealistic young generals and politicians organized to oppose Heureaux’s political machine.  They were led by General Horacio Vasquez.  As a figurehead for their movement, they chose the nation’s wealthiest planter, Juan Isidro Jimenez —a man who some described as completely lacking in character or vision.  After Heureaux’s murder, Vasquez and Jimenez proclaimed a new revolutionary government.  It began a period of political disorder that eventually provoked the United States [5] to intervene in Dominican affairs.

Heureaux’s enemies divided themselves into competing factions —groups loosely associated with Vasquez and Jimenez.  Juan Jimenez soon developed his own taste for power.  The feud led to a series of weak presidents, coup d’état, and counter-coups.  All the while, each successive regime continued to borrow money from foreign banks to purchase arms pay the men who would help them suppress revolution.  The Dominican Republic steadily sank even further into debt and political chaos; foreign creditors began to demand repayment, threatening military intervention if necessary.

Dominican financial delinquency and political upheaval attracted the attention of the United States.  After 1900, concern for the defense of sea approaches to the Panama Canal intensified American interest.  Dominican entanglements with European powers seemed particularly worrisome because, under the guise of upholding the claims of its citizens, a country such as Germany might be compelled to establish a colony and a naval base within striking distance of the Canal.  Combined Anglo-French-German expeditions against Venezuela [6] during the early 1900s caused President Theodore Roosevelt to threaten to send the US fleet to interdict foreign ships. European behavior dismissive of the Monroe Doctrine eventually brought the issue to a head: the United States decided to take strong action [7] to protect the Caribbean.

The Roosevelt Corollary received its first practical application in the Dominican Republic.  At the initiation of the Dominican president, the US and Dominican Republic (DomRep) negotiated a treaty under which American representatives would collect the customs revenues at Dominican ports and divide the proceeds between current government expenses and payments on foreign debt.  In February 1905, the agreement was submitted to both legislative bodies for ratification and, at the same time, the two governments established a modus vivendi, the practical effect of which placed the treaty into immediate operation.

The treaty met significant opposition in the US Senate, resolved in 1907 with DomRep legislature accepting the treaty later that year.  Meanwhile, between 1905-1907 under the modus vivendi, the claims against Dominican creditors were reduced from $30-million to approximately $17-million.  Beyond implementing a customs receivership, the 1907 also treaty provided for the floating of a bond issue of $20-million (at five percent interest) to be devoted exclusively to paying off long-dormant accounts and financing specified public works projects that were designed to reduce domestic discontent.  By 1912, Dominican debt had been reduced to about $14-million.

In 1906, Ramon Caceres was elected president of the DomRep.  He was perhaps the most honest and capable of Dominican leaders during this period.  He fully supported the receivership as the best possible solution to the country’s debt, and he was enthusiastic about using revenues to improve public services and stimulate economic development.  Caceres was assassinated on 19 November 1911 [8] and the internal stability of the DomRep deteriorated —along with its relationship with the United States.  New regimes resorted to their old habit of enriching themselves and borrowing foreign money to suppress revolutions.

In the United States, President Woodrow Wilson sent envoys to the DomRep who were far less capable than those under earlier administration (Roosevelt-Taft).  They began throwing their weight around, making demands to form stable governments.  When this didn’t happen, the United States seized control over all Dominican revenues and began supervising public works projects.  In 1914, with rival politicians fomenting civil war, President Wilson decided that he’d had enough of the squabbling and sent in the U. S. Marines.

The Fifth Marine Regiment (5thMarines) made their presence known aboard ships of the US Navy off-shore.  It was enough to bring about a political truce and an orderly presidential election. Juan Isidro Jimenez assumed the presidency with US guarantees of support against future revolutions.  Of course, the US continued to insist that Jimenez abide by the 1907 Treaty [9].

On 15 April 1916, Jimenez arrested two close associates of the Dominican Minister of War, General Desiderio Arias.  General Arias had been one of the trouble-makers in 1914 and now established himself in the fortress of Santo Domingo, the nation’s capital. Supported by his loyal followers, Arias raised the standard of open revolt.  Opponents of Jimenez flocked to join the revolutionary army.  When Jimenez and Arias failed to make a settlement, the American Minister to Dominica called for Marines to protect the US legation.  Then, on 2 May, the Dominican legislature (under pressure from Arias) voted to impeach President Jimenez.  Jimenez then fled to the countryside to gather an army of his own.  Fighting commenced on 5 May 1916.  US Marines came ashore on that same day.

Marine in DomRep 001
Marines come ashore at Santo Domingo, 1916 Photo from National Archives

The landing force consisted of two rifle companies (about 150 Marines) from USS Prairie: The 6th Company, under Captain Frederic M. Wise, and the 9th Company, equipped with field artillery, under Captain Eugene Fortson.  Captain Wise, as senior officer present, exercised overall command of the contingent, which was designated a provisional battalion.  Captain Wise was a strict disciplinarian, a no-nonsense officer with a volatile temper.  His orders were to occupy the US legation and consulate, as well as the strategically placed Fort San Geronimo.  Wise was also ordered to assist President Jimenez against Arias’s rebel forces.

In fact, Captain Wise and his Marines found themselves in the middle of a miniaturized civil war.  Some 250 troops loyal to Arias were reinforced by hundreds of civilian irregulars to whom Arias had distributed rifles and ammunition from government arsenals. Arias controlled Santo Domingo City. No sooner had the Marines entered the city, Arias blockaded the principal avenues to deny the Marines access to resupply.  Captain Wise was not a happy man.

Forces loyal to President Jimenez numbered around 800.  They had initiated assaults upon the city from the north and west.  By the time Wise arrived ashore, Jimenez’ attack had already failed; his men running low on ammunition.  Captain Wise acted with a combination of courage and discretion.  Knowing that his 150 Marines could not defeat a thousand Dominicans, Wise put up a brave front.  While his men occupied their objectives, Wise went directly to Arias and demanded safe passage for foreign nationals out of the city, and the right to resupply his Marines.  Arias agreed to both points.  All foreign nationals were evacuated to the USS Prairie; hired civilians hauled supplies from dockside to the Marine positions.

WISE F M 001
Lieutenant Colonel Frederic M. Wise, USMC Photo from public domain

Captain Wise then established contact with General Perez, commanding the president’s forces.  Perez asked for 100 rifles and ammunition (Wise refused), and for artillery support for an attack scheduled for the next day, which Wise agreed to furnish. During the night of 5-6 May, Wise deployed his artillery and infantry to support a government advance.

Without consulting with any of his subordinates, President Jimenez resigned the presidency on 6 May, citing as his reason for doing so a refusal to turn American guns on his own people.  Perez was forced to abandon his assault and the Dominican Republic was suddenly without a national leader.  The Congress created a provisional council of ministers to carry out executive functions.

Unsure of what might happen next, Captain Wise requested additional forces from the USS Prairie; 130 sailors were sent ashore to reinforce him.  In conjunction with the US minister and naval commander, Wise arranged a truce between the warring factions.  Arias dismantled many of his fortifications and disbanded the civilian irregulars; most government troops withdrew to Fort San Geronimo just outside of Santo Domingo City.  Wise and his Marines held their original positions and awaited further instructions and reinforcement.

Commanding the Cruiser Squadron, Atlantic Fleet aboard USS Dolphin, Rear Admiral William Caperton [10] arrived offshore on 12 May 1916 and assumed overall command of the operation.  Marines from the 4th and 5th Companies (from Haiti) and a detachment from the 24th Company (from Guantanamo) came ashore on 13 May.  With 400 Marines ashore, Admiral Caperton met with Arias on 14 May and demanded that he disband his army and surrender his arms by 0600 on 15 May —or face a full-scale American assault.  General Arias refused Caperton’s demand but did agree to vacate the capital.  Marines entering the rebel-held area of the city on 15 May encountered no significant resistance.  The salts who had participated in the conflict at Vera Cruz were relieved; not one of them wanted another taste of urban warfare.

Marine strength continued to increase.  USS Panther arrived on 23 May with Colonel Theodore P. Kane commanding the 2nd Regiment of Marines and three additional rifle companies.  Kane assumed command of the land forces, setting up his headquarters in the American Consulate.  He stationed his Marines at key locations throughout Santo Domingo: on the east bank of the Ozama River, the northwestern approaches to the city, and at the Guardia Republicana barracks.  Additional Marines bivouacked at Fort Ozama.  Marines remaining afloat served as a reserve force off the north coast.  USS Sacramento, with two Marine companies, awaited orders off Puerto PlataUSS Panther and USS Lamson with two companies patrolled offshore near Monte Cristi.  By 28 May, Colonel Kane commanded eleven companies, drawn mostly from the 1st and 2nd Regiments in Haiti.  On deck in Santo Domingo were about 750 Marines.  Colonel Kane determined that he required a still larger force if he was to seize the entire country.

Meanwhile, the unresolved revolution had caused the collapse of the Dominican Republic’s civil government in many interior towns.  Some of these were left unprotected when civilian police detachments departed to fight for Jimenez.  Senior US commanders believed that the next step would have to be an occupation of the entire country.  Of concern, General Arias was at large with at least several hundred men.  No matter where Arias was located, his personality became a rallying point for bandits, local caudillos, and malcontents.  There were only about 300 remaining Dominican army troops, men who seemed somewhat unenthused about the possibility of engaging Arias further.

Continued next week

Sources:

  1. Wiarda, H. J. and Michael J. Kryzanek. The Dominican Republic: A Caribbean Crucible.  Boulder: Westview Press, 1982
  2. Diamond, J. Collapse: How Societies Choose to Fail or Succeed. Penguin Books, 2005
  3. Fuller, S. M., and Graham A. Cosmas. Marines in the Dominican Republic, 1916-1924.  History and Museums Division, U. S. Marine Corps, 1974

Endnotes:

[1] Yellow fever is a viral disease causing fever, chills, nausea, muscle pain, and severe headache. Liver damage can occur, causing a yellowing of the skin, hence its name.

[2] Criollo (French: Creole) persons are Latin Americans who are full or near full Spanish descent, which distinguishes them from multi-national Latinos and Latin-Americans of the post-colonial period European group.  They were at the top of a long list of social classes in Hispanic societies.

[3] Spanish word for military dictator.

[4] Heureaux ruled from 1882 to 1899 when he was assassinated.  Called Lilís, he was the son of Haitian mulatto parents.  He served as the 22nd, 26th, and 27th president of the Dominican Republic; when he wasn’t president, he control those who were.

[5] Perceiving it’s potential economic and strategic value, President Ulysses S. Grant made an attempt to annex the island republic in the 1870s.  He was unable to gain the support of the Congress, however.

[6] European navies in fact bombarded Venezuelan coastal towns.

[7] In December 1904, President Roosevelt issued the Roosevelt Corollary to the Monroe Doctrine. The corollary reaffirmed US opposition to European military intervention in any Western Hemisphere country, for any reason, but also assumed responsibility for enforcing international good-behavior of the Latin American nations.  If Latin-American countries would not police themselves, the United States would do it for them.  This was the genesis of the so-called Banana Wars.

[8] Political assassination became a frequent strategy within Latin American countries; being fast, cheap, and permanent, no place on earth has had a greater number of such incidents.

[9] In 1915, US Marines occupied the Dominican Republic’s neighbor, Haiti, in an effort to establish stable government.  Wilson’s stated policy was to “teach the Latin Americans to elect good men.”

[10] Rear Admiral William Banks Caperton, USN (1855-1941) graduated from the USNA in 1875.  He commanded naval force interventions in Haiti (1916), Dominican Republic (1916), and served as Commander, Pacific Fleet (1916-1919).  He participated in the Spanish-American War, and World War I.  He was a recipient of the Navy Distinguished Service Medal.

Marines in Panama, 1903-04 (Part II)

But what most people do not know

BGen G F Elliott 1904
BrigGen George F. Elliott USMC

On 18 December 1903, Secretary of the Navy William Moody directed the Commandant of the Marine Corps, Brigadier General George F. Elliott [1], to personally report to the President of the United States.  His orders from President Roosevelt were to proceed in person, taking passage aboard USS Dixie, from League Island to Colón, Panama.  Take command of the entire force of United States Marines and seamen that is or may be landed for service in the State of Panama.

The president’s order was significant because no Commandant had been ordered into the field since Colonel Commandant Archibald Henderson was sent to Florida to deal with the Indians in 1836.  No Commandant has been ordered to the field since.

General Elliott was ordered to Panama because of Roosevelt’s reliance on the US Navy and Marine Corps in numerous diplomatic crises during his administration [2].  Faced with the possibility of conflict in Panama in late 1903, Roosevelt instinctively reached out for sea power.  This time, however, he needed the land element of the Navy-Marine Corps team. When, on 3 November, Panamanian revolutionaries declared their country’s independence, Colombia threatened the use of force to recover its lost province.  General Elliott’s presidential mission was one of the most strategically audacious gambits of the early 20th century because when he sailed south to assume command of the rapidly growing force of U.S. Marines on the isthmus, he carried with him plans for the invasion of Colombia and the occupation of one of its major cities.

Based on Colombia’s behavior in early to mid-1903, President Roosevelt anticipated that Colombia would likely attempt to retake its lost province. In mid-November, Washington began forwarding intelligence reports to US military and naval commanders concerning Colombian troop movements —reports that estimated that up to 15,000 soldiers were on the move toward Panama.

Rear Admiral Henry Glass (Commander, Pacific Squadron) at Panama City and Rear Admiral Joseph Coghlan (Commander, Caribbean Squadron) at Colón believed that Panamanian weather would be their allies.  Both officers remained confident of the fighting spirit and strength of the U. S. Marines in Panama.  Both admirals reported to Washington that there was no chance that a Colombian force would advance upon them until after the dry season. Admiral Glass must have developed a case of indigestion a few days later after learning that a Colombian expedition of 1,100 men had already tested an overland route into Panama.

President Roosevelt had himself received that same report from a separate source in Colombia.  The President was told that the Colombians intended to establish a forward base at the mouth of the Atrato River, near the Panamanian border.  Moreover, American diplomats were reporting deep-seeded anger toward Americans in the capital city, Bogota.

The new government of Panama was still in the process of organization.  It did not have a force able to defend against a significant assault by Colombian forces —and it was clear to all concerned that Colombia intended to reclaim its province.  It was up to the Americans to defend Panama, which meant that it was up to the Marines.

As reports of a likely invasion started flowing in to his headquarters, Admiral Glass wired Washington for instructions on the extent of his authority to defend the new republic.  On 10 December, Secretary Moody drafted a reply that would order Glass to establish camps of fully equipped Marine battalions at inland points to forcibly prevent hostile entry by land into the State of Panama.  The draft also directed that he maintain good communication between these camps and Navy vessels, cut trails, buy or hire pack animals as necessary to support overland expeditions.  Moody’s order was never sent, however.  When Moody presented his draft to the President, Roosevelt ordered him to hold off until the matter could be considered in greater depth.

The next day the Secretary of the Navy, presumably acting on Roosevelt’s further consideration, transmitted an order that marked a dramatic shift in the rules of engagement for U.S. forces in Panama: “Establish strong posts, men and Marines with artillery in the direction of the Yavisa or other better positions for observation only and rapid transmission of information but do not forcibly interfere with Colombian forces advancing by land.”

Moody changed the rules of engagement further a week later. He directed Glass to assume an almost completely defensive role.  In doing so, he retreated from previous instructions from Washington, which ordered Glass to defend all territory within 50 miles of the Panama Railroad, which carried a vast amount of commercial goods across the narrow isthmus and thus represented the most commercially and strategically important Panamanian national asset. According to this clarification, telegrammed in cipher, Moody’s instructions to Glass on 11 December were to maintain posts in the vicinity of Yavisa for observation only.  Do not have post beyond support from ships or launches.  Withdraw your posts if liable to be attacked.  It is the intention of the Government to continue active defense against hostile operations to the vicinity of the railroad line on the Isthmus and for its protection. Disregard all previous instructions that may appear to conflict with these.

Roosevelt’s earlier threats may have been bluster, but it is also possible that Colombia’s military expedition caused Roosevelt to reconsider America’s long-term interests in the region.  There’s also a third possibility: Roosevelt decided to shift his strategy for dealing with Colombia.  His new strategy?  A Marine assault in Colombia.

General Elliott assumed his duties as the tenth Commandant of the Marine Corps on 3 October 1903 —one month before the revolution in Panama.  Elliott was the only Marine Corps Commandant educated at the US Military Academy at West Point.  Elliott made the unusual decision to accept a commission in the Marines late in 1870.  Subsequently, his exemplary performance of duty in Cuba during the Spanish-American War and in the Philippines during the insurgency against the American occupation resulted in his rapid promotion.  Then, in mid-December 1903, the president called upon his knowledge of tropical warfare in dispatching him to Panama.  After meeting with Secretary Moody on 18th December, General Elliott proceeded to assemble his force.  Elliott made it clear to his officers that the men needed to be prepared for service in “heavy marching order” as well as for rapid movement and sustained combat.

On 11 December, the auxiliary cruiser USS Prairie departed Guantanamo Bay, Cuba, with a battalion of Marines under the command of Major Louis C. Lucas.  Arriving at Colón on the 13th, Lucas took his battalion into camp at Bas Obispo.  At League Island, the auxiliary cruiser USS Dixie, recently returned from delivering Major John A. Lejeune’s nearly 400 Marines to Panama, embarked Elliott’s two additional Marine battalions, the first under the command of Major James E. Mahoney, the second led by Major Eli K. Cole.  With a combined force of 635 Marines and his staff of seven officers and 11 enlisted men, Elliott departed Philadelphia on 28 December and arrived at Colón on 3 January 1904.  The Provisional Marine Brigade was formed.

General Elliott’s priorities included establishing his Marines in the field and realigning the command structure to match the size of his force. Elliott ordered Major Cole’s battalion to proceed to Empire, a town along the railroad approximately 30 miles from Colón; there they would take quarters alongside Lejeune’s battalion.  It had come ashore on 4 November to coerce a Colombian battalion into leaving the newly declared republic.  Lejeune’s men then spent the intervening month providing light security and communications relay before receiving orders to move into base camp at Empire.  Major Lejeune’s professionalism and attention to detail (as well as the welfare of his Marines) led him to order an extensive reworking of the existing facilities of the former French Canal Company’s buildings at Empire.  New freshwater and sewage systems were installed, jungle growth cleared, and the houses for the Marines cleaned and disinfected with healthy doses of carbolic acid.  Only then did Lejeune allow his Marines to move into the quarters they would occupy for most of the next year.  Lejeune’s and Cole’s battalions were designated 1st and 2nd Battalions, respectively, 1st Marine Regiment, Colonel W. P. Biddle, Commanding.

LWT Waller 001
Colonel L. W. T. Waller USMC

Major James Mahoney’s battalion proceeded to Bas Obispo, where it quartered alongside Major Lucas’ Marines.  These two units comprised the 2nd Marine Regiment, Colonel L. W. T. Waller [3], Commanding.  Both regiments, together counting approximately 1,100 men, formed the Marines’ 1st Provisional Brigade, Panama, Brigadier General George F. Elliott, Commanding.

General Elliott’s priorities also included reporting to the senior Navy officers in country to present his orders.  He first called on Admiral Coghlan at Colón.  Shortly thereafter he rode a train across the isthmus to meet with Admiral Glass.  To each he presented a letter from the Secretary of the Navy, part of which read: “The Department forwards herewith, in the charge of Brigadier General Elliott, USMC a plan for the occupation of Cartagena, Colombia.  As will be seen, the plan contemplates occupation against a naval enemy, but the information it contains, and the strategy involved may be readily applied to the present situation.”

The plan General Elliott presented was almost certainly a regional modification to several operational plans formulated during the late 1890s.  The plan was a bold military and diplomatic strategy that reflected well on the sophistication of American military planning that had been noticeably lacking throughout most of the nineteenth century.  After nearly five years of frustrating American involvement against jungle-based Filipino insurrectionists, and two months of armed reconnaissance in Panama, Roosevelt recognized the utter futility of defending Panama’s numerous bays, ill-defined borders, and porous mountain passes.  He therefore chose to forgo a defensive strategy in favor of offensive action on a battlefield of his own choosing.

Rather than defend Panama in the event of a Colombian attempt to regain its lost province, the president instead planned to embark his Marine Brigade on waiting ships for an amphibious assault on the Colombian port city of Cartagena —the country’s chief source of tariff revenues.  The naval force would then capture the port and its defense installations before subduing the city itself.  The plan, if successfully executed, would have placed Roosevelt in position to dictate the terms of a subsequent peace settlement with the Colombian government.

In the meantime, General Elliott instituted a training program to maintain his Marines at a high level of combat readiness. Simultaneously, he dispatched his forces on quick “out-‘n-back” expeditions that fulfilled the dual purposes of maintaining security while building the Marine’s understanding of the surrounding countryside.

On 21 January, General Elliott reported that he had constructed rifle ranges in the two camps and directed the regiments to practice their marksmanship with rifles and automatic weapons.  The Marines also practiced assault tactics, entrenching procedures, and the construction of obstacles to slow and confuse a counter-attacking enemy force.  In short, General Elliott knew that these were the skills his Marines would need to capture and defend Cartagena.  Marine commanders dispatched reconnaissance parties throughout the small country to map roads and trails. This effort resulted in the first comprehensive survey of the isthmus of Panama.  The Leathernecks’ morale and discipline, meanwhile, remained high—with a few minor exceptions, of course.

Word soon came to the Marines —a rumor— that a group of Colombian insurgents planned to poison their water supply.  General Elliott acted immediately: he ordered that any individual attempting to tamper with the water supply would be shot on sight.  Admiral Glass quickly reminded the General that “a state of war does not exist on the Isthmus of Panama,” and perhaps Elliott should simply take additional precautions to guard his water barrels. General Elliott no doubt appreciated the Admiral’s advice, but he let his order stand.

Meanwhile, Secretary Moody wrote to update Elliott on the situation at hand.  After expressing his pleasure with the professionalism displayed by the Commandant and his staff throughout their deployment to Panama, the Navy secretary informed him that “If Colombia actually begins hostilities against us, a Brigade of the Army will proceed to the Isthmus.” This force, Moody cryptically explained, would allow Elliott to disengage his force in Panama and turn his attention to another duty that would “be important.”

If Colombia decided to accept the new status quo in Panama, the secretary suggested Elliott’s force might take part “in some operations connected with the winter maneuvers.” Moody also enjoined Elliott to communicate frequently with Washington and made clear who the intended recipient of the communiqués would be:  Let the Department know through the proper channels of your daily operations. Remember the Department is always annoyed by long silence, and please also remember that the Army, which has only a couple of officers down there, is furnishing the President every day with pages of cipher cable, much of which, though dealing with small matters, is of considerable interest.  Let your scouting be thorough and extending a long distance and give us daily accounts of it.

On 12 January 1904, following a cabinet meeting, Secretary of War Elihu Root issued a statement denying any plan on the part of the United States to dispatch troops to Panama to fight Colombian forces. This appears to have been classic disinformation.  While Army troops would be dispatched to Panama in the event of a Colombian invasion of the new republic, the real strategic response would come from the Marines on the ground in Panama.  But they were not intended to battle Colombians in Panama; they would fight Colombians —in Colombia.

By the end of January 1904, General Elliott’s brigade of Marines, backed by ships of the Pacific and Caribbean squadrons, were ready to assault Cartagena to ensure the continued independence of Panama.  The invasion, of course, never took place.  Colombia protested, probed, and negotiated, but never made a serious attempt to reoccupy its former province and, hence, never triggered Roosevelt’s audacious plan.

A treaty between Panama and the United States, the Isthmian Canal Convention, was ratified by the U.S. Senate on 23 February 1904 and signed by President Roosevelt two days later.  According to its terms, the United States guaranteed the independence of the Republic of Panama.

General Rafael Reyes-Prieto, commander-in-chief of the Colombian Army and presumptive political heir to the country’s presidency, had traveled to Panama shortly after the revolution in an attempt to lure the nascent republic back into the Colombian fold, but on realizing he would be unsuccessful, he continued on to the United States.  There, he was treated with every courtesy, but when the question of Panama’s independence was raised, it was understood, in the words of a contemporary observer, “that what has been done could not be undone.”  Reyes came to understand that American public opinion was behind Roosevelt’s policy of upholding the revolution in Panama.

Rafael Reyes 001
Rafael Reyes Prieto

Finally, Reyes held out hope that the $10 million promised to Colombia under the rejected Hay-Herrán Treaty might still find its way into the country’s treasury.  And by the end of January 1904, rumors that Colombia would “sooner or later receive a certain financial consolation for her loss of territory provided she abstains from violent proceedings” were circulating throughout Washington. That’s what happened. By the middle of March, Colombian troops operating along the Panamanian frontier were withdrawn and the government declared that it did not intend to invade its former territory.  In 1921, the U.S. Senate ratified the Thomson-Urrutia Treaty that provided Colombia $25 million for the loss of Panama.

A large portion of the 2d Marine Regiment was withdrawn from Panama on 14 February 1904 and redeployed to Guantanamo Bay to take part, as Secretary Moody had previously suggested, in annual winter maneuvers.  General Elliott and his staff departed two days later, leaving Colonel Waller in command of the 800 remaining Marines.  That arrangement lasted until 7 March, when Waller took a battalion back to League Island, leaving Major Lejeune behind with his original battalion of 400 men to provide security and reconnaissance on the isthmus.  Lejeune’s command remained for another nine months.  But U.S. Marines would remain a presence in Panama until 1912, when Captain John F. Hughes finally departed with his force of 389 men —except that I was there with BLT 2/8 in 1964 and again as part of an advance party in 1990.

Sources:

  1. Wicks, D. H. “Dress Rehearsal: United States Intervention on the Isthmus of Panama, 1886.  Pacific Historical Review, 1990
  2. Collin, R. H. Theodore Roosevelt’s Caribbean: The Panama Canal, the Monroe Doctrine, and the Latin American Context (1990)
  3. Graham, T. The Interests of Civilization: Reaction in the United States Against the Seizure of the Panama Canal Zone, 1903-1904.  Lund Studies in International Relations, 1985.
  4. Nikol, J. and Francis X. Holbrook, “Naval Operations in the Panama Revolution, 1903.” American Neptune, 1977.
  5. Turk, R. “The United States Navy and the Taking of Panama, 1901-1903.”  Military Affairs, 1974.

Endnotes:

[1] George Frank Elliott (30 Nov 1846-4 Nov 1931) was promoted to Colonel in March 1903, and advanced to Brigadier General on 3 October 1903 when he assumed the post of Commandant of the Marine Corps.

[2] See also: Handsome Jack.

[3] See also: He Served on Samar; Major Waller’s CourtSergeant Major Quick.

Marines in Panama, 1903-04 (Part I)

Roosevelt TR 001
President Theodore Roosevelt

Arguably, the most important action President Theodore Roosevelt ever took in foreign affairs related to the construction of the Panama Canal.  It was controversial abroad —it was controversial at home.  Those who opposed the canal claimed that Roosevelt’s actions were unconstitutional.  If true, then so too were Thomas Jefferson’s actions when he acquired the Louisiana Territory.  At different times, the congressional do-nothings accused Roosevelt of usurping their authority. They must not have known Roosevelt very well; he was a man of action.

Some background

A canal across the isthmus of Panama was first discussed in 1534, when Charles V, Holy Roman Emperor and King of Spain ordered a survey for a route through the Americas that would shorten the voyage for ships traveling between Spain and Peru.  In 1668, the British physician and philosopher Sir Thomas Browne speculated that such an undertaking would be a good idea; after all, it only involved “but a few miles” across the isthmus.  A little more than 100-years later, Thomas Jefferson (then US minister to France), suggested to the Spanish that they proceed with their project; after all, it would be far less treacherous than sailing ships around the tip of South America. Besides, he added, the tropical ocean currents would naturally widen the canal thereafter and it would be easy to maintain it.

By the late eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, numerous canals were constructed in other countries.  Engineers were learning how to do this.  The success of the Erie Canal in the 1820s was inspiring, and the collapse of the Spanish Empire in the New World led to a surge of American interests in building an inner-oceanic canal.

Of course, in the first eighty-years following independence from Spain, Panama was a department (province) of Colombia.  Panama voluntarily joined Colombia in 1821.  It was not a happy marriage, however, and the Panamanians made several attempts to secede, notably in 1831 and again during the Thousand Days War of 1899-1902.  Among the indigenous people, the struggle was one for land rights [1] under the leadership of Victoriano Lorenzo [2].

Panama outline mapEarlier, in 1826, American officials attempted to open negotiations with Gran Colombia (present-day Colombia, Venezuela, Ecuador, and Panama) to gain a concession for the construction of a canal.  Fearing domination by an American presence, Gran Colombian president Simón Bolívar and officials of New Granada politely declined American offers.

The British also opened discussions about constructing an Atlantic-Pacific canal in 1843  but in the absence of any Colombian interest, no plan was ever formulated.  Moreover, negotiations to construct a isthmus-wide railroad were similarly ignored.   However, in 1846, New Granada officials and the United States negotiated the so-called Mallarino-Bidlack Treaty. The treaty granted the United States transit rights through Panama, and, while acknowledging the right of the United States to protect these transit rights, also pledged America’s neutrality in matters pertaining to the internal affairs of New Granada.

With the discovery of gold in California in 1848, renewed interest in a sea-to-sea canal was undertaken by William H. Aspinwall, an American shipping magnate. His efforts resulted in a steamship route from New York City to Panama, and from Panama to San Francisco, with an overland portage through Panama.  It was one of the fastest routes between San Francisco and the East Coast of the US —about 40 or so days in total.  Nearly all of the gold taken from California was shipped through this routing.  The ever-competitive Cornelius Vanderbilt similarly established steamship routes to Nicaragua [3] and an overland route to the Pacific.

Between 1850-55, the United States constructed a railroad in Panama; it became a vital link in trade (and later, the route for the Panama Canal).  Late in 1855, the engineer William Kennish published a report entitled The Practicality and Importance of a Ship Canal to Connect the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans.  Twenty-two years later, two French engineers surveyed the route and submitted a French proposal for a canal through Panama.

In March 1885, Colombia reduced its military presence in Panama in order to address rebellions in other areas.  With a reduced military footprint, Panamanian rebels began an insurgency.  The US Navy was dispatched to protect US personnel and property.  Establishing a base of operations at the city of Colón, the American Navy was soon challenged by the Chilean Navy, who at the time had the strongest naval force in the Americas.  The Chilean cruiser Esmeralda was dispatched to seize and control Panama City.  Esmeralda was instructed to “stop by any means possible the eventual annexation of Panama by the United States.”  Note: I’m not quite sure how Chile intended to accomplish this with their ships on the Pacific Coast, and most of the US Navy on the Caribbean side of Panama.

Meanwhile, undaunted, the French proceeded with their Panama Canal operations between 1881-94.  Ferdinand de Lesseps [4] was able to raise considerable funds for this undertaking, mostly from revenues generated by the Suez Canal, but in practical terms, the undertaking in Panama was far more complex than the Suez project due to the terrain and tropical climate.  As time progressed, the French discovered that they were completely unprepared for such an undertaking in Panama.  There were no similarities between the Suez Canal and one like it in Panama.  Tropical Panama was a nest of poisonous snakes, spiders, and insects.  The rainy season transformed the Chagres River into a raging torrent exceeding ten feet above normal in depth.  Moreover, Panama was a land of malaria and other diseases.  By 1884, the death rate among French workers averaged 200-men per month.  Labor recruiters in France downplayed these conditions by not mentioning them.

Bunau-Varilla 001
Phillipe Bunau-Varilla

Eventually, French money ran out.  By 1889, the French had expended $287-million; twenty-two thousand men died from diseases and accidents, and more than 800,000 investors lost their money, which must have been devastating.  Work was suspended on 15 May 1889; the scandal became known as the Panama Affair, and those deemed responsible were hauled into French courts —including Gustave Eiffel [5].  Despite this setback, another company was formed in 1894, but its efforts were mostly confined to managing the Panama Railroad, maintaining costly French equipment, and the sale of idle assets.  By then, the French were hoping to recoup $109-million. Eventually, its manager, Phillipe Bunau-Varilla [6] became convinced that canal efforts should pursue a lock-and-lake project rather than a sea-level canal modeled after the Suez project.

In 1898 Manuel Antonio Sanclemente was elected President of Colombia; José Manuel Marroquin-Ricaurte became his Vice President.  On 31 July 1900, Marroquin executed a coup d’état by imprisoning Sanclemente at a location a few miles outside of Bogota. Due to the mysterious disappearance of the President, Marroquin declared himself the sole power in Colombia.  In plain language, he became a dictator.  The absence of Sanclamente from the capital became permanent upon his death in prison in the year 1902.

The (centralist) Colombian constitution of 1886 denied to Panama the right of self-government; all power was vested within the Colombian regime.  When Panamanians declared their independence on 3 November 1903, there was no Colombian Congress.  As we will see, Marroquin’s coup d’état did not work out to the overall best interests of the Colombian people.

From the American perspective in 1900, if there was any lessons to be learned from the Spanish-American War, it was that the United States needed a canal somewhere in the Western Hemisphere.  The question to be answered was “where.”  There were two possibilities: a canal across the isthmus of Panama, or a canal across Nicaragua.

Meanwhile, in order to liquidate French interests in Panama, project manager Phillipe Bunau-Varilla wanted $100-million; eventually, he would end up settling for $40-million.

José Manuel Marroquín
José Manuel Marroquin-Ricaurte

In 1902, the United States Senate voted in favor of the Spooner Act, a commitment to pursue the Panamanian option —provided that the US could obtain the necessary rights from Colombia.  President Marroquin authorized his Ambassador to negotiate a treaty with the United States. Thus, on 22 January 1903, US Secretary of State John Hay and Colombian Charge-de-affairs Dr. Tomás Herrán signed a treaty for the construction of a canal in Panama.  Colombia would gain $10-million and an annual payment, and the United States would achieve a renewable lease in perpetuity for the land proposed for the canal. The US Senate ratified the treaty in March.

President Marroquin wielded absolute power in Colombia.  It was entirely up to him whether to accept the Hay-Herrán accord or reject it.  He decided to reject it —and in order to provide an excuse for doing so, he devised the plan of summoning a special session of Congress —a puppet congress that would do as they were told.

By July 1903, when the course of internal Colombian opposition to the Hay-Herrán Treaty became obvious, a revolutionary junta emerged in Panama. The junta was led by José Augustin Arango, an attorney for the Panama Railroad Company.  He was aided by Manuel Amador Guerrero and Carlos C. Arosemena, all of whom represented prominent Panamanian families.  Arango was the brain of the revolution; Amador was the junta’s visibly active leader.

With financial assistance arranged by Philippe Bunau-Varilla, a French national representing the interests of de Lesseps’s company, native Panamanian leaders conspired to take advantage of the United States’ interest in a new regime on the isthmus.

In August 1903, Theodore Roosevelt became convinced that Colombia was likely to repudiate the agreed-to treaty.  At the President’s direction, Secretary Hay, personally and through his Minister [7] at Bogota, repeatedly warned Colombia that grave consequences might follow a rejection of the treaty.  There were two possibilities: one was that Panama would remain loyal to Colombia.  In this case, Roosevelt was prepared to occupy the isthmus of Panama and dig his canal anyway.  Subsequently, Roosevelt and Hay met with Phillipe Bunau-Varilla, who informed the president of the likelihood of a revolt by Panamanian rebels, whose desire it was to sever their ties to Colombia.  Bunau-Varilla expressed his hope that should such a thing occur, that the United States would support Panama.

This information was confirmed on 16 October by two US Army officers (Captain Humphrey and Lieutenant Murphy), who had recently returned to Washington from Panama.  They informed President Roosevelt that, in their opinion, Panama would most-assuredly revolt against the Colombian government.  The Panamanian people were united in their criticism of the government in Bogota; the people were disgusted by Marroquin’s silence on the pending treaty —but that Panamanians would likely await the results of Colombia’s puppet congress before making their move —sometime around the end of the month.  President Roosevelt then directed the Navy to station warships at several locations in Panama and be ready to respond to any crisis that may arise.

The possibility of ratification did not wholly pass away until the close of the session of the Colombian Congress on the last day of October. To no one’s surprise, Colombia’s legislature unanimously voted to reject the treaty.  Having thus voted, the Congress was immediately dismissed.

Marines in Panama 1903
US Marines guard rail depot, Colon, Panama 1903

Panama declared its independence on 3 November 1903. President Roosevelt enthusiastically recognized the new government on 4 November.  US warships blocked sea lanes against any possible Colombian troop movements on 5 November.  Meanwhile, in Panama, practically everyone on the isthmus, including Colombian troops stationed there, joined the revolution.  Initially, there was no bloodshed.  But on 6th November four hundred new Colombian troops were landed at Colón.  USS Nashville arrived at Colón at about the same time.  When the Colombian commander foolishly threatened the lives of Americans in Colón, Nashville’s commanding officer landed his Marines and sailors to protect them.  Through a mixture of firmness and tact, Commander Hubbard not only prevented any assault on American citizens, but he also persuaded the Colombian military commander to reembark his troops for Cartagena.  On the Pacific coast, a Colombian ship shelled Panama City; one man was killed —the only life lost in the entire revolution.

On 16 December, the Marines from Nashville were relieved by a 400-man Marine Battalion from USS Dixie under the command of Major John A. Lejeune [8], USMC.

No one connected with the American Government had any part in preparing, inciting, or encouraging the revolution, and except for the reports of our military and naval officers, which I forwarded to Congress, no one connected with the Government had any previous knowledge concerning the proposed revolution, except such as was accessible to any person who read the newspapers and kept abreast of current questions and current affairs.  By the unanimous action of its people, and without the firing of a shot, the state of Panama declared themselves an independent republic. The time for hesitation on our part had passed.

 —President Theodore Roosevelt

The rights granted to the United States in the so-called Hay-Bunau-Varilla Treaty were extensive. They included a grant “in perpetuity of the use, occupation, and control” of a sixteen-kilometer-wide strip of territory and extensions of three nautical miles into the sea from each terminal “for the construction, maintenance, operation, sanitation, and protection” of an isthmian canal.

The United States was also entitled to acquire additional areas of land or water necessary for canal operations and held the option of exercising eminent domain in Panama City. Within this territory, Washington gained “all the rights, power, and authority . . . which the United States would possess and exercise if it were the sovereign . . . to the entire exclusion” of Panama.

The Republic of Panama became a de facto protectorate of the United States through two provisions: the United States guaranteed the independence of Panama and received in return the right to intervene in Panama’s domestic affairs.  In exchange for these “rights,” the United States was to pay the sum of $10 million and an annual payment (beginning 9 years after ratification), of $250,000 in gold coin. The United States also purchased the rights and properties of the French canal company for $40 million.  In 1977, President Jimmy Carter agreed to relinquish US control of the Panama Canal Zone effective at midnight on 31 December 1999.  Carter’s action was the end of a process that began at the direction of President Lyndon Johnson in 1967.

Unsurprisingly, Colombia was the harshest critic of United States foreign policy at the time —but President Roosevelt wasn’t quite finished with Colombia just yet …

Continued next week …

Sources:

  1. Wicks, D. H. “Dress Rehearsal: United States Intervention on the Isthmus of Panama, 1886.  Pacific Historical Review, 1990
  2. Collin, R. H. Theodore Roosevelt’s Caribbean: The Panama Canal, the Monroe Doctrine, and the Latin American Context (1990)
  3. Graham, T. The Interests of Civilization: Reaction in the United States Against the Seizure of the Panama Canal Zone, 1903-1904.  Lund Studies in International Relations, 1985.
  4. Nikol, J. and Francis X. Holbrook, “Naval Operations in the Panama Revolution, 1903.” American Neptune, 1977.
  5. Turk, R. “The United States Navy and the Taking of Panama, 1901-1903.”  Military Affairs, 1974.
  6. Hendrix, H. J. Commander, USN.“TR’s Plan to Invade Colombia.”  S. Naval Institute, Proceedings Magazine.

Endnotes:

[1] Hispanic society was nothing if not harsh.  If you weren’t born into wealth (which is to say, entitled to land), then you would never achieve a higher station in life.  It remains that way to this very day.

[2] The political struggle in Panama was one between federalists and centralists following independence from Spain.  Under the centralist regime, Panama was established as the Department of the Isthmus; during federalist regimes, it was the Sovereign State of Panama.

[3] The genesis, perhaps, of America’s problem with Nicaragua.  At this time, the Nicaraguans (wisely) did not trust the motives of the American government.

[4] Vicomte de Lesseps (1805-1894) was a French diplomat, entrepreneur, developer of the Suez Canal, and the Chief Operating Officer for the Panama Canal project.

[5] Alexandre Gustave Eiffel (1832–1923) was a French civil engineer and a graduate École Centrale Paris.  He made his name building various bridges for the French railway network, most famously the Garabit viaduct.  He is best known for the world-famous Eiffel Tower, built for the Universal Exposition in 1889 in Paris and his contribution to the construction of the Statue of Liberty in New York.

[6] Bunau-Varilla (1859-1940) was a French engineer, soldier, diplomat, and entrepreneur.  Through American lawyer William Nelson Cromwell, he became quite influential with Theodore Roosevelt and Secretary of State, John Hay.

[7] American diplomats accredited to foreign governments from the time of Benjamin Franklin through the late-nineteenth century held the rank of Envoy Extraordinary and Minister Plenipotentiary, or in abbreviated terms, “Minister.”  Within the diplomatic corps, the term Ambassador (short for Ambassador Extraordinary and Plenipotentiary) is a diplomatic agent of the first class.  The term Ambassador has become the generic title for the chief of a diplomatic mission.  Before the twentieth century, only major powers sent and received ambassadors.  The term “extraordinary” was originally applied to an envoy sent on a special mission, as opposed to “ordinary,” which meant an envoy in residence.  Today the term Extraordinary is widely used in diplomatic circles.  The term “plenipotentiary” originally meant having the authority to conduct normal diplomatic business, as opposed to the function of negotiating treaties, which required special authority.

[8] John A. Lejeune later served as Commanding General, US 2nd Army Division in World War I and the Thirteenth Commandant of the U. S. Marine Corps.

Marines in Nicaragua, Part VIII

Eye of the Tiger

Puller 1930Lieutenant Puller’s patrol came under fire again on 6 June while moving toward the village of Los Cedros.  This time, bandits occupied the top of a hill some 175 yards above the trail.  Puller and his men immediately returned fire, but with barely a pause, Puller charged the hill rallying his men to join him in the assault.  The bandits maintained steady fire as the patrol advanced and began tossing down dynamite bombs[1].  Lee distinguished himself by his physical prowess and courage; he and a private dodged dynamite explosions while making a beeline for the top of the hill.  Most of the bandits began their withdrawal, but the leader who remained was shortly shot and killed by Lee.  Discovering seven bodies in the camp, Puller concluded that rather than a formal ambush site, the bandits were in camp and surprised by the arrival of Puller’s patrol. Puller was also able to obtain valuable intelligence about the insurgency —letters from Altamirano outlining his strategy in opposing the Guardia.  It was a fruitful patrol.

On 21 June, Puller’s unit joined another patrol led by Major Webb.  Webb intended to investigate a bandit camp reportedly bombed by Marine aircraft.  The counter-insurgency group arrived at the scene on the following afternoon, where they discovered one dead rebel.  The next morning, hoping to cover more territory, Webb divided his force.  In two days, however, Webb withdrew his patrol due to casualties from fever, foot soreness, and because he was short on rations.

After joining up with Lieutenant M. K. Chenoweth’s 30-man patrol, Puller and Lee left Jinotega for Santa Fe.  There, Puller picked up an additional fifteen guardias.  After five days in the field, Puller moved his men to Yali, where he could check-in with the area commander via telegraph.  Colonel Wynn informed Puller that Marine aircraft had been looking for him for two days to inform him that he was being assigned an expanded patrol area.  Puller’s enlarged group operated for nearly two additional weeks.  Puller adopted a new strategy: he divided his expanded patrol into two groups, one following another at some distance hoping to surprise more bandits.  The patrol ended on 12 July having killed only two bandits —the only bad-guys discovered for the entire month.

Marine TransportIn his after-action report, Lieutenant Puller opined that the Guardia encountered so few contacts because their rate of march was far too slow.  This was due to the fact that most patrols took with them mule-trains, which confined Guardia patrols to well-established trails.  In contrast, Company M officers and troops walked and carried their rations and supplies in backpacks.  In Puller’s view, spare uniforms and rain-gear amounted to excessive baggage.

“After becoming hardened, a foot patrol can average 25-miles per day, whereas a patrol with a baggage train can only achieve 18 miles, and this containing them to fixed trails.  On one day, Company M marched 36-miles without undue hardship to either the officers or the Guardia.  When I say a foot-patrol can average 25-miles per day, I mean for a period of 30 days with a lay-over of not more than one day each week.  Company M has only had one day lay-over in the past 31 days, and no officer or Guardia was mounted; on the afternoon of the 31st day, we marched 21 miles in only four hours and thirty minutes.”

Puller also favored the BAR[2] over the Thompson because the BAR had a longer effective range of fire.  Moreover, he believed that some patrol members should wear civilian clothing in order to facilitate combat reconnaissance.  Furthermore, jungle vegetation rendered binoculars worthless —so why carry the extra weight?  Eventually, senior Guardia offers embraced Puller’s suggestions: Colonel Wynn noted, “The only successful offensive operations have been by small, mobile patrols capable of living off the countryside and following the bandits wherever they have been able to go[3].”

Colonel Wynn concluded that Lieutenant Puller was perfectly suited for independent style warfare.  “He was probably the bravest man I ever knew.  His was cool courage.  About the only way to contact the enemy [in Nicaragua] was to let them ambush him [Puller].  He would go anywhere without support, knowing that if he got into a jam he had to get himself and his men out.  He not only never hesitated, he invited that kind of work.”

On 21 July, acting on information that a wounded bandit chief and a few men were hiding in the mountains a few miles north of San Antonio, Puller’s patrol climbed toward its summit through dense jungle vegetation and suddenly stumbled into the bandit camp.  Alerted by the sound of men moving through the brush, the bandits rushed forward shooting.  When Puller’s men returned fire, the bandits withdrew.  The contact lasted only about five minutes with Puller’s patrol firing less than two-hundred rounds —resulting in no casualties on either side. Nevertheless, the patrol recovered six rifles, a horse, a mule, rations, and equipment.  At the end of the engagement, Puller continued north toward Mount Guapinol.  In this phase, only one bandit was spotted and killed; before he died, the man informed Puller that El Tigre was quite effective keeping the Sandinistas on the run.

Nicaragua jungleIn early August, Puller was sent to track down a bandit group operating south of Jinotega.  Puller kept his patrol on the move for five days, slowly circling their way north to Corinto Finca.  There, Puller received orders to proceed to Rio Tuma.  On the evening of the 15th an informant told them that eighty mounted men had crossed the river two days prior, heading north.

In spite of their considerable head-start, or perhaps because of it, the bandit group went into camp on 17 August to rest their animals.  On the next day, the bandits ambushed a Guardia patrol, and then ran into another while making their escape.  Luck was not with this group because a Marine air patrol located the group and bombed them.  Puller, meanwhile, maintained his hard pace along the hilly jungle paths.  Rain and mud were a nuisance, but these conditions did not stop Puller’s company.  Then, late in the afternoon of 19 August, Puller closed with the bandit group.

(To be continued)

Notes:

[1] These were crudely made grenades made from a cowhide sack filled with stones or scrap metal, with a stick of dynamite in the center.

[2] Browning Automatic Rifle.

[3] Despite the Brigade Commander’s guidance to “employ heavily armed patrols, moving secretly at night, and resorting to ambushes in order to obtain surprise against outlaws during the daytime,” Marine and Guardia units operated almost exclusively during the day and camped at night.  Nearly all contacts occurred during daylight hours; rebels almost always initiated their attacks at night.  It was a workable solution in Nicaragua, but at no time did the Nicaragua military effort experience the knockout blows it had inflicted upon Haitian bandits.

Marines in Nicaragua, Part VII

The story of the Tiger continues …

While the Nicaraguan rebels remained elusive, Guardia Nacional was still in its development stage.  Only two of the Guardia were killed between October 1928 through the end of September 1929, but in that same period, 47 died from causes other than combat, and 480 deserted.  Under such circumstances as these, it was nigh impossible to withdraw American Marines from Nicaragua.

Puller 1929When Lieutenant Puller wasn’t leading combat patrols, he fulfilled the duties of battalion quartermaster.  This was not his favorite assignment, but he did learn to appreciate the importance of logistical support to forward units —a lesson he carried with him into future conflicts.  (Shown right, Puller with Company M, Guardia Nacional).

In January 1930, Puller led three patrols … one of these sent in response to a report of Padron’s location.  It turned out to be a false rumor, however, and all Puller ended up with was a bull loaded down with bags of salt, covered over with a Marine Corps-issue poncho.  Marines found it frustrating to go into the field for days at a time and come up empty-handed; during all of 1929, the Guardia had only engaged 26 battles —and most of these were minor incidents.

In February 1930, Puller’s commander ordered him to conduct a sweep of the territory north of Jinotega, with specific instructions to check for bandit camps on Mount Kilande.  On 16th February Puller’s patrol moved out from the village of San Antonio at 0800; he organized his force into three sections (point, main body, and rear guard) with an officer commanding each of these.  Puller stationed himself on point with eight other men.

Thirty well-concealed bandits waited for the Guardia patrol some three miles outside the village; the initial fire came from a Lewis gun[1], and as it opened up, patrol members hit the deck and returned fire with Browning Automatic Rifles (BARs).  The Lewis gun soon went silent, but rifle bullets continued to pepper the column; pissed, Puller suddenly stood up in the hail of bullets and ordered a charge toward the bandit’s positions.  Surprised by such aggressive behavior, the bandits executed a speedy withdrawal.  Puller’s patrol pursued the bandits, but he was unable to regain contact.  The entire episode lasted barely twelve minutes … which is a bit longer than average for most fire fights.

The next day, Puller determined that the route to Mt. Kilande would take him through heavy foliage without the benefit of a foot path.  He would need time to cut one, so after making a foray across the Coco River, and being aware that several of his men had worn out their shoes, Puller determined to head back to his base.  On the return march, the patrol discovered the disinterred remains of a member of the Guardia killed earlier; bandits had mutilated the corpse and hung it from a tree.  Thereafter, Guardia members had no great respect for Nicaraguan bandits.

Returning to camp, Puller reflected on the firefight and concluded that his Nicaraguan Guardia contingent were seriously lacking in marksmanship skills —a deficiency he was committed to correct.

Morale was not high among the Nicaraguan Guardia; over the next several months, Marines experienced increased violence directed toward them by their Nicaraguan subordinates; several Marines were assassinated.

After the arrival of the new Battalion Commander (Colonel C. A. Wynn) and Executive Officer (Major James W. Webb) in May 1930, Lieutenant Puller received his first combat command.  He was to take over the Guardia’s newly created and only dedicated field force, designated Company M (for Mobile).  Colonel Wynn did not realize it at the time, but by assigning Puller to command this company, he had helped to create a Marine Corps combat legend.  Initially, however, the company’s complement consisted of only two officers and 36 men; it would take some time to get the company up to strength.

Puller-Lee 001Puller’s assistant (Company XO) was an athletic Marine by the name of Gunnery Sergeant William A. Lee (serving temporarily as a Guardia second lieutenant).  (Shown right, Lieutenant Puller (with pipe) is standing center left, Lee is standing center right).  Having enlisted in the Marine Corps in 1918, Lee (like Puller) missed participating in the Great War.  In 1930, Lee was 30-years old.  Before joining the Corps, he had learned field craft from Cherokee Indians in North Carolina.  His skill-set included the ability to track man or beast through dense jungle, and maintain a fast route of march with a heavy load on his back.  In a short time, Nicaraguan bandits would learn to fear Lee as much as they feared El Tigre.

Puller wasted no time initiating aggressive patrols; his initial patrol encompassed a five-day sweep in an easterly-northeast direction.  Each night the Marines/Guardia set up camp inside a local village.  On the evening of 4 June, Puller and his men were preparing rations for their elongated patrol into the uninhabited area of Mount Kilande when they heard several shots from north of the village.  Puller sent 13 men to investigate and within short order, a firefight ensued, which lasted less than a full minute; one bandit was killed.  Puller and Lee became curious about the dead man’ weapons: he was armed a relatively new Springfield rifle, a Colt revolver, and he had plenty of ammunition for both.

(To be continued next week)

Notes:

[1] The Lewis Gun was a World War I-era light machine gun of US design, perfected and mass produced in the United Kingdom.  Its inventor was Colonel Isaac Newton Lewis, US Army in 1911.  When the US military failed to adopt his machine gun, Lewis resigned his commission and moved to Belgium, where he established the Armes Automatique Lewis Company.

Marines in Nicaragua, Part VI

(El Tigre goes to War—Again)

Over a period of nearly four decades active service, Lewis B. Puller became a legend in the U. S. Marine Corps.  His comparatively short stature and barrel chest resulted in him gaining the nom de guerre “Chesty.”  Over the span of his long career, Chesty Puller became one of the most highly decorated officers in the United States.  He was awarded five (5) Navy Cross medals and the Army’s equivalent, the Distinguished Service Cross.

Puller 1924Not long after the much-publicized Battle of Belleau Wood in July 1918, a young Lewy Puller enlisted in the Marines Corps, attending boot camp at Parris Island, South Carolina.  The war was still on, and the Marine Corps was expanding.  After graduating from boot camp, Puller attended NCO School, and after that, Officer’s Candidate School at Quantico, Virginia.  World War I ended quite suddenly on 11 November 1918 and within a short time the Marines determined that they didn’t need as many officers as originally thought.  A very disappointed Second Lieutenant Puller had two options: he could accept his discharge from the Marine Corps Reserve and go home, or he could reenlist in the Marines and serve as an enlisted man.

It was thus that Corporal Puller began his long career as a battle-tested Marine and a combat leader.  Puller would spend nearly ten years in the Marines before finally arriving in Nicaragua.  Included in that time was service in Haiti as a lieutenant of the Gendarmerie d’Haiti[1].  While in Haiti, Puller participated in 40 combat engagements against the Caco rebels.  By the time he arrived in Nicaragua as a Marine Corps Second Lieutenant, Puller had already become a hardened combat veteran and had earned for himself the reputation of a man consistently demonstrated courage and coolness under fire.

Puller arrived in Nicaragua in early December 1928; he was surprised (perhaps disappointed would be a more appropriate word) to learn that he would be assigned the Personnel Officer at Guardia headquarters.  It wasn’t his first staff assignment, of course, as Puller previously served as Adjutant in Haiti and at the Norfolk Naval Base —what he wanted, however, was a combat assignment.

Nevertheless, Guardia headquarters needed a good personnel officer because in one six-month period in 1928, the Marine Corps transferred out 31 NCOs judged to be unsuitable for “detached” duties.  Personnel turbulence detracts from unit efficiency and esprit-de-corps, and so too did the bureaucratic practices of the Guardia Nacional: all post-operational combat reports had to be filed in quadruplicate.  To Puller, it seemed as if the Marines were obsessed with paperwork —a notion he would carry with him into the future— but archived records did allow the Marine Corps to develop their Small Wars Manual in years to come.  Whatever Puller thought about his staff assignment, he performed his duties to the best of his ability and was rated very high by the Director (jefe) of the Guardia Nacional.

Within only a few months, Puller took command of the Guardia garrison at Corinto, the major seaport on the West Coast of Nicaragua.  Policing a large town was no simple task, especially considering that the civil populace was engaged in civil war.  Puller did well enough to earn his promotion to Marine Corps First Lieutenant in May 1929; he was advanced in rank to Guardia Captain almost at the same time.  As a captain, he was too senior to command such a small garrison force as that at Corinto, so Puller was ordered back to Managua to command the Guard Force at the national penitentiary.  He served in this post for about one-week before receiving another set of orders, this time assigning him to the First Battalion at Jinotega.

Altamirano 001Ultimately, Puller’s responsibility would include both Jinotega and Matagalpa … the latter being a small city at the juncture of two rivers.  The principal economic activities in this region included cattle raising and coffee growing.  Nicaraguan ranches were called fincas.  Marine aviators maintained an airstrip four-miles to the north.  To the west was the Northern Area, which included Nueva Segovia and Esteli.  It was the principal operating area of Augusto César Sandino and his compadres … which included Pedro Altamirano (called Pedrón) (shown left) —one of the most powerful and ruthless Sandinista generals.  Even in Nicaragua, where the execution of opponents was ritualized, the behavior of Pedrón was considered particularly despicable.  He had sufficient guile to avoid battle when he did not have the upper hand, was an expert in using Nicaragua’s jungle to his own advantage, and whenever he did decide to fight, he was a brutal adversary.

Puller’s first operation (July) involved a force of four patrols (5 officers, 80 troops).  Moving northward on a parallel course, the patrols swept the area for bandits.  They saw no significant action in the eleven days in the field, their only success being a bandit storehouse, which they set afire.  The following month, sixty bandits launched a night raid on the town of Jicaro; there were several waves, but each one was met with devastating automatic weapons fire.  When the bandits finally withdrew, the Guardia pursued them for several hours, but no trace of the enemy or their casualties were found.

(To be continued next week)

Notes:

[1] Marine Corps NCOs received officer’s commissions in the Gendarmerie d’Haiti, enabling these Marines to assume command of Haitian platoons and companies.  Marine officers (Captains and Majors) served in a similar capacity, receiving appointments to senior officer Gendarmerie positions

Marines in Nicaragua, Part V

La Guardia Nacional de Nicaragua was the official police force and national guard of the Republic of Nicaragua.  It was an organization entirely distinct from the Marine Brigade, even though Marine Corps officers and NCOs served as Guardia officers.  One division of the Guardia (a company strength unit) was assigned to each of Nicaragua’s political departments.  Two or more towns might be administered as sub-divisions (perhaps a platoon), and each village of any import would have a post, manned by a squad detachment.

Creation of the Guardia was an ambitious undertaking —particularly since the work had to be completed in advance of the 1928 elections.  Colonel Robert Y. Rhea (shown left) and his successor, Colonel Elias Root Beadle worked tirelessly to ensure that the Guardia would be able to assume its responsibilities for maintaining law and order.

While the Guardia was being formed, an uneasy peace settled over Nicaragua.  The liberal army disintegrated into small difficult to locate bands of thugs.  Even Marine Corps observation aircraft had its limitations in locating and fixing the position of rebel bands.  It was also convenient for these small groups to slip over the Honduran border.

Along the northern border lie the departments of Neuva Segovia, Esteli, Jinotega, and Cabo Gracias a Dios on the Caribbean coast.  These were sparsely populated areas of coffee plantations, a few mines, and family-sized farms.  In peaceable times (if any could remember any of those), these remote areas were roughly equivalent to wild-west America, but during revolutionary times it became a sanctuary for the worst of Nicaragua’s bandits.  Some of these cut-throats had been incorporated into General Jose Maria Moncada’s Liberal Army.  None of these people were likely to surrender their weapons —it was their only source of income.

One of these bandit leaders was a man named Francisco Sequeira—known among his own kind as General Cabulla.  Sequeira was involved in the murders of Captain Richard B. Buchanan and Private Marvin A. Jackson[1].  General Cabulla made the greatest mistake of his life when he pulled a revolver on Captain William P. Richards, one of the most formidable shots in the Marine Corps.  Cabulla’s next job, as it turned out, a permanent assignment, was pushing up daisy’s.

Nevertheless, as one of this filth was killed, another took his place.  Another scoundrel was Pedro Salgado, whose power base was a small village called Somoto in Neuva Segovia.  Salgado was an illiterate Indian and somewhat typical of the jungle bandits: fat, barefoot, and nearly fifty years of age.  Yet another was a one-time coffee plantation laborer called Centeno … now elevated to the position of a village chieftain-bandit who never wandered far from his home.  And then we had Jose Diaz, was a veritable intellectual in a field of illiterate swine, a man who was cruel beyond our darkest imaginations.  These men were thoroughly bad actors, but none could compare to the most fearsome of all: Augusto Cesar Sandino (shown right).

As Brigadier General Logan Feland (shown below) embarked upon an aggressive campaign to run Sandino into the ground, the US State Department pressed forward with its program of reconstituting a new national guard.

At the top of General Feland’s list of places to pacify was the very place to which Sandino had retreated: the inaccessible mountain region of Nuevo Segovia.  The principal city of this area was called Ocotal, and the local government jefe[2], a man known as Arnoldo Ramirez, stated that he would not enter that town unless or until he was provided escort by U. S. Marines.  Feland dispatched a 50-man patrol under the command of Major Harold Pierce.  Pierce was ordered to escort Ramirez into Ocotal, peaceably disarm everyone, and secure information that will facilitate the coming supervision of elections.  Major Pierce was to conciliate with firmness, tranquilize without force of arms, avoid combat if possible, and conduct himself with dignity.

“General” Sandino issued the first of his many manifestos from San Albino.  He declared that the American Marines had not come to provide stability to the people, but rather to murder them in their own lands.  What Sandino wanted most was a fight with American Marines —and who are the Marines to deny anyone this opportunity?

Located at the center of Nueva Segovia, Ocotal presented extreme danger to the Marines; it didn’t take long for them to observe strange behavior among the local people —a comportment so odd that the Marines began to suspect they were surrounded by the enemy (called Sandinistas).  Captain Gilbert Hatfield, commanding Marines inside the town, suspected the village priest of providing intelligence to General Sandino.  Hatfield stationed his 39 Marines inside the town hall, while Captain Grover Darnell commanded an additional 48 Guardia Nacional of the 1st Company, stationed across the plaza.

The fact was, the Marines were surrounded: Sandino had placed 60 of his insurgents throughout the town.  They were armed with rifles, machineguns, and dynamite stolen from a nearby mine.  Sandino ordered these men to infiltrate the town and, working with collaborators, attack the buildings where the Marines and La Guardia were posted.

Octotal GarrisonAt 0100 hours on 16 July 1927, an alert Marine sentry noticed movement on the main street leading into the town plaza.  His challenge was met with rifle fire.  The jig being up, Sandino’s men charged into battle shouting such nonsense as “death to Yanquis.”  Accurate Marine fire took its toll; one well-aimed shot ended the life of Sandinista lieutenant Rufio Marin.  His death brought a temporary halt to the rebel onslaught, but having re-grouped, enemy fire continued into the next afternoon.  (Shown left, US Marine garrison at Octal displays captured Sandinista flag).

Just after 14:30 the following afternoon, Major Rose Rowell led an air assault over the city.  Captain Hatfield placed panels to communicate with the Marine aviators as to the location of the guerillas.  Diving from 1,500 feet, Marine airmen leveled off around 300 feet to deliver their bombs; once the plane had dropped its munitions, machine gunners delivered suppressive fire against the insurgents.  The delivery of high explosives caused the rebels to scatter and subsequent sounds of nearby aircraft caused a lot of twitching among the Sandinistas.  Out of ammunition, Major Rose returned to Managua and filed this report: “Since the enemy had not been subjected to any form of bombing attacks, they had no fear of us; we were able to inflict damage that was out of proportion to what they might have suffered had they bothered to take cover.”

Despite the success of the Marine defense, Sandino knew his terrain and made good use of the inaccessibility of the surrounding mountains and the long, unguarded border with Honduras.  There were no roads, and no navigable streams.  Moreover, Sandino correctly assumed that Marine reinforcements were five days away.  The Marines managed to retain Ocotal, but Sandino knew he was in a strong position.

Rear Admiral Latimer, who wanted a more aggressive land campaign, ordered Feland to clean out Nueva Segovia and force Sandino into a retreat into Honduras.  On 15 July 1927, Major Oliver Floyd led a Marine company, reinforced by La Guardia troops, totaling 225 men, into the Nicaraguan jungle.  Described as a patrol in force, the Marines left their base at Esteli and headed toward an abandoned mine at San Albino.  Sandino could not have been happier to learn of this.

USMC PatrolFloyd’s task was challenging, for beyond the tactical concours was the logistical problems of securing sufficient pack animals, bull carts, and supplies to sustain his men over a long period of time.  As Floyd went about solving these problems, Sandino’s elaborate spy network kept him appraised of the Marine’s progress; this knowledge gave the rebel general sufficient time to prepare well-laid ambuscades.  If the Marines wanted to reach him, Sandino reasoned, they would have to go through hell before arriving at San Albino.

After reinforcing the Marines at Ocotal, Floyd’s company was now fifty men short of its desirable strength.  He had already violated one important tenet of war: he’d divided his forces.  The native population, caught between these two opposing forces, fled into the jungle to save themselves.  The first ambush occurred at San Fernando where a band of forty Sandinistas opened fire on the Marines as they approached the town.  In a furious fight, the Marines fought their way through the town and forced the rebels into a head-long retreat.  The battle that Sandino wanted ended with one wounded Marine and seventeen dead rebels.

On 12 August 1927, Major Floyd ordered First Lieutenant George J. O’Shea to lead a 21-man patrol into Jicaro and along the trail to a place called Quilali.  During the afternoon of 17 August, while still about five miles from their objective, Marines spotted a rifleman moving along the trail.  Additional guerrillas were flushed from a house some 300 meters distant.  As it was getting late in the day, O’Shea decided to bivouac two miles outside Quilali.  Early the next morning, several rebels were spotted prowling the Marine perimeter; an alert sentry drove them off.  O’Shea led his Marines into the town, but his approach was cautious.  Just inside the town, Marines espied four natives, each carrying a rifle, and each leading a pack mule.  The Marines fired at the natives, who immediately cut loose their packs and fled with their mules into the surrounding wood.  The abandon packs revealed supplies being sent to Sandino.  A search of now-deserted houses disclosed copies of Sandino’s latest manifesto.

Lieutenant O’Shea’s patrol returned to Jicaro on 3 September.  All along the route, farm houses lay empty and there were no men to be found in the entire region.  This suggested to the Marines that rebels were massing in the region of Quilali … O’Shea was personally convinced that Sandino might be found within a jungle fortress.

As previously alluded to, Sandino was not a stupid man.  He had instituted a rather elaborate intelligence gathering network, and a counter-intelligence arrangement as well.  When 2nd Brigade intelligence officers began to receive reports of a rebel redoubt somewhere in Nueva Segovia, one that served as Sandino’s main base of operations, Feland ordered Colonel Louis M. Gulick (Commanding Officer, 5th Marines) to intensify his combat patrols in this region.  Regimental planners began to refer to this area as El Chipote, a fortress that became a Marine fixation.

El Chipote didn’t exist; it was a ruse by Sandino to attract the Marines into the deep jungle, where Sandino and his followers could deal with them.  Consequently, Marine combat patrols, who were seemingly “going through the motions,” suddenly began to experience a surge in enemy ambushes.  Marine casualties began to mount.

On 18 September, 200 Sandinistas gathered at the outskirts of Telpaneca.  Stationed inside the town were 20 Marines and 25 members of La Guardia Nacional, First Lieutenant Herbert S. Keimling, commanding.  At 0100 on 19 September, the Sandinistas tossed dynamite toward the rear of the Marine quarters; Marines were scrambling into their uniforms when the rebels opened fire.  Two groups of rebels assaulted the Marines, but they were repulsed.  Marines and national guard held firm despite their initial surprise.  A dense fog began to lift around 0230, and the enemy began their withdrawal soon after.  By dawn, all was quiet.  Friendly casualties were two Marines killed, and one guard seriously wounded.  Lieutenant Keimling estimated 25 rebels were killed and twice that number wounded in the fight.

Failure to pacify the interior was not only vexing to the Marines, it also served to illustrate what the future would look like to members of La Guardia once the United States withdrew their Marines.

With the arrival of the 11th Marines in January 1928, Marine manpower increased by 5,000 troops; it was the largest deployment of Marines since World War I.  This additional strength enabled the Marines to initiate offensive operations against Sandino, the effect of which provided better security for election workers.  General Feland ordered the Colonel Robert Dunlap, commanding the 11th Marines, to push into the heart of Nuevo Segovia.  He was ordered to pacify this region before the national elections.

More than 900 American servicemen participated in monitoring the Nicaraguan elections of 1928 with troops provided by the Army, Navy, and Marine Corps.  An American military officer was appointed overall responsibility for each of Nicaragua’s thirteen election regions; there were nearly 450 polling stations to guard, not only from the standpoint of security, but also to prevent fraudulent voting[3].  Voting officials required everyone who cast a vote to dip their fingers into a bottle of red ink.  In this way, US officials could certify fair and honest elections.  More than 133,000 citizens cast their votes, an increase of 30,000 from the elections of 1924.  The winner was liberal candidate Jose Maria Moncada.

Depending upon who you read or what you are prepared to believe, an enlarged Marine presence began to pay off by the Spring of 1929.  The fact is, Augusto Sandino remained elusive and the Marines were never able to completely pacify Nicaragua’s interior.  Nevertheless, guerrilla activity did fall off and it was now possible for the United States to declare victory and begin withdrawing from Nicaraguan towns.  The Marines were replaced by a reinvigorated national guard, but this transition was no cake-walk[4].

In the summer of 1929, Colonel Calvin B. Matthews arrived to assume command of the National Guard.  By this time, the Guard consisted of 267 officers and 2,240 enlisted men.  One year later, the Marine led guard forces were aggressively patrolling the country’s interior —the purpose of which to keep the insurgents off-balance.  Marine Corps guard commanders included such men as Captain Evans Carlson[5], and First Lieutenants Lewis B. Puller[6] and Edward A. Craig[7].

(Next Week: El Tigre goes to Nicaragua)

Notes:

[1] Both Marine were posthumously awarded the Navy Cross.

[2] Meaning local chief.

[3] Voting fraud, similar to what is going on inside the Democratic Party today.

[4] Between 1927 and mid-1932, there were no fewer than ten La Guardia mutinies.  Five US Marines, serving as guard officers, were assassinated.

[5] Achieved World War II fame while commanding Carlson’s Raiders.

[6] Respectfully referred to as Chesty Puller, Lewis B. Puller served with distinction in Haiti, Nicaragua, during World War II while commanding the 1st and 7th Marine Regiment, and while commanding the 1st Marines during the Korean War at a place called the Chosin Reservoir.  He was awarded five Navy Cross medals.  Because of the ferocity of his attacks against guerrilla forces in Nicaragua, Puller’s guardsmen called him El Tigre.

[7] Edward A. Craig commanded the 1st Marine Brigade at the Pusan Perimeter, South Korea, 1950.