“They looked fine, coming in there ... through those little tired Frenchmen.”
In Charles the Second’s time the English formed the first sea regiment—soldiers equipped as infantry, to serve on the sea in the fleet; to clear with musketry the enemy’s decks and fighting-tops when the ships of the line went into close action; to go ashore and take up positions when the naval forces would seize a base preliminary to land operations of the army.
Here, by the way, comes the quip of old time: “Tell it to the Marines.” They relate of Charles the Second that at Whitehall a certain sea-captain, newly returned from the Western Ocean, told the king of flying fish, a thing never heard in old England. The king and the court were vastly amused. But, the naval fellow persisting, the Merry Monarch beckoned to a lean, dry colonel of the sea regiment, with a seamed mahogany face, and said, in effect: “Colonel, this tarry-breeks here makes sport with us stay-at-homes. He tells us of a miraculous fish that forsakes its element and flies like a bird over the water!” “Sire,” said the colonel of Marines, “he tells a true thing. I myself have often seen those fish in your Majesty’s seas around Barbados—” “Well,” decided Charles, “such evidence cannot be disputed. And hereafter, when we hear a strange thing, we will tell it to the Marines, for the Marines go everywhere and see everything, and if they say it is so, we will believe it!”
The Continental Congress, on 10 November, 1775, authorized a corps of American Marines. This was the first Federal armed force to be raised by the young nation, and it antedated both the Federal army and navy, which had, until that time, been matters of individual commonwealths. And since that date Marines have participated honorably in all American wars, and in some affairs, more or less interesting, where powder was burnt but which do not rate as wars. (Under international law Marines can be landed to protect the lives and property of nationals without a declaration of war.)
Captain Richard Dale’s Marines served with John Paul Jones on the Bonhomme Richard, and it was a grenade thrown from the tops that set off the powder-magazine of H. M. S. Serapis and turned the tide of events in favor of the poor old Richard, in the fight off Flamborough Head. There were United States Marines in Barney’s naval force, formed across the Bladensburg Road when Admiral Cockburn’s people marched to burn Washington; and they stayed there until the line was turned by British regulars and they were all, including Barney, casualties; it was the only material resistance the British met. Marines marched to Mexico City in 1846; the red stripe on the blue trousers of officers and non-commissioned officers commemorates to this day service in that war. They served in the Civil War very widely: Marines died on Henry Hill, at First Manassas, and on the fire-swept beaches in front of Fort Fisher, and on the Mississippi around Vicksburg and Island No. 10. Colonel Huntington’s Marines took Guantanamo, landing from U. S. S. Marblehead in 1898. They marched to Pekin in 1900, and were in the legation guard shut up there during the Boxer trouble. Cuba knows them, and the Philippines. They were ashore at Vera Cruz in 1914; every uneasy and volatile West Indian and Central American republic has become acquainted with them in a professional way, and their appearance at storm centres has always produced, very presently, a sweet tranquillity. The navy takes them there, and sends bluejackets and chow along always. Every capital ship carries a guard of them. Aboard ship, besides forming the nucleus of the ship’s landing-force, they man the secondary batteries, the five-inch guns; furnish guards of honor for the comings and goings of the admiral and distinguished visitors, and so forth; perform all manner of curious and annoying details; and post ship’s sentries whose meticulous ideas about the enforcement of orders lacerate the souls of jolly mariners, seamen, and engineer ratings. Normally, the strength of the corps is twenty per cent of the navy; just now there are about 19,000. They constitute an organization within an organization, with their own commandant, who functions under the secretary of the navy. The rank and file are good enough Latinists to know what “Semper Fidelis”—which is their word—means; and any private will assure you that the Marines are a corps d’élite.
In 1917, when trained soldiers in the United States were at a premium, the navy offered a brigade of Marines for service in France; it was regarded desirable for Marine officers to have experience in large operations with the army; for it is certain that close co-operation between the army and the navy is a necessary thing in these days of far-flung battle lines. The British distress at Gallipoli is a crying witness to this principle. In a navy transport, therefore, U. S. S. Henderson, the 5th Regiment of Marines embarked for France in June, 1917, with the first armed American forces. The 6th Marines followed. The two regiments constituted the 4th Brigade, and served in the 2d Division, U. S. Regular, until the division came home, in August, 1919. About 30,000 Marines were sent to France; some 14,000 of these went as replacements to maintain the two regiments of the 4th Brigade. A brigade musters some 7,500 officers and men; this brigade took part in some very interesting events.
Hereafter I have written of the Marines in the war with Germany; how they went up, and what they did there, and how some of them came out again. Being a Marine, I have tried to set forth simple tales without comment. It is unnecessary to write what I think of my own people, nor would it be, perhaps, in the best taste.
And I have written of Marines in this war because they are the folks I know about myself. Those battle-fields were very large, and a man seldom saw much or very far beyond his own unit, if he had a job in hand. As a company officer, I always had a job. There is no intent to overlook those very gallant gentlemen, our friends, the army. Their story is ours, too.
John W. Thomason, Jr.