Things are a bit different in the Marine Corps. In this organization a man doesn't absolutely have to wait for his number to come around. If he distinguishes himself above his fellows, he may be promoted without much regard for age or length of service. He goes up as he is able to, by his active ability and his readiness to work hard and effectively for Uncle Sam. There are advocates, of course, of both systems. There are merits which both systems can justly claim. But it goes without saying that this possibility of promotion keeps everybody in the Marine Corps on the jump.
Even the enlisted men who are too old to get commissions have something to work for. Not very long since Congress authorized the appointment of "warrant officers" in the Marine Corps. The Navy had this grade for many years. It is new in the Marine Corps, and is an added incentive to hard work.
Another incentive—and perhaps the strongest one—that draws young fellows of the up-and-doing sort into the Marine Corps is that of active service. The Marines boast that they are always on the job; that no matter how peaceful the time, the Marines are sure to see "something stirring" right along. It is a saying—and a true one—in the Marine Corps that every marine who has served the ordinary enlistment in the corps since the Spanish-American war has smelt powder. Ever since the fuss with Spain the marines have been covering themselves with glory. In that little war of 1898 the Marines were the first to land in Cuba. They held Guantanamo for three months. In 1890 they saw service in the Philippines; the next year in China. In 1902 the Marines took part in the fighting against Aguinaldo, the wily Filipino leader. In 1903 they put down the rebellion in Panama, captured Colon and opened up the Panama railroad. In 1906 they helped quiet the uprising of that summer in Cuba. They were in Nicaragua in 1909. From 1911 to 1913 they did more duty in Cuba, with a whirl in Nicaragua again in 1912. They helped hold Vera Cruz for three months in 1914. Next year they went to Haiti, where they have been moderately busy from time to time since. Santo Domingo saw them in 1916.
AN UNAPPROACHABLE RECORD.
Neither the army nor the navy can claim anything to beat it—you couldn't tell a marine that the rival branches of the service can claim anything to equal it. And as for the modern implements of warfare—the European armies have no advantage over the marines for testing out new devices. They had armored cars, for instance, as far back as 1906; they began to use motor trucks for military purposes as early as 1909. Every marine expedition is equipped with its quota of armored trucks. They would as soon think of voyaging over the seas to put down an incipient revolution without their armored cars and motor trucks as they would of going to meet the enemy without their rifle.
There used to be an old joke about "Horse Marines." A sailorman on a horse is an incongruous thing—a sight to make you hold your sides. But the marines are not plain sailormen. They are "soldier and sailor, too," and as soldiers they have turned the joke on the old saw about "horse marines." There are "horse marines" these days, and mighty good cavalry they make.
The marine can ride with the best of the cavalrymen. And in the fracas in Domingo there were two cavalry companies of marines organized.
THE MANY-SIDED MARINE.
It takes a bit longer to make an efficient marine than to make an infantryman. This because the marine is a man of many specialties. He is, of course, in season and out of season, an international policeman. That's his job in time of peace. But when he fares abroad to fight his country's battles he may be called upon to do almost any kind of work. He may be an artilleryman; a signalman; an airman. He may be, and usually is, anything that his country needs at that particular time. And he is trained to meet the emergency.
The new recruit, in ordinary times, is sent for his first instruction to Port Royal, down in Georgia. There he has nothing to do but drill, drill, drill, until he can do the infantry evolutions in his sleep. He learns to drill, he learns to keep clean—the Marines are something of a dandy corps—and he learns to take care of himself no matter what happens. He is taught to be a soldier and a man. He learns to walk straight, shoot straight, think straight. And then he goes for a spell to sea—for after all, he needs sea legs as well as land legs.