Marine Corps History

Issues of Marine Corps History can be found on the History Division 

website at https://www.history.usmc.mil under Publications.
e History Division is moving!

History Division will be moving to the Simmons Marine Corps 

History Center, part of the Marine Corps University. e new 

state-of-the-art wing will bring together all of the Marine Corps 

University schools into one unit. e structure will oer many 

new features and amenities for the student body, faculty, and 

sta at Marine Corps Base Quantico.

e Greene Papers:

General Wallace M. Greene Jr.

and the Escalation of the Vietnam War,

January 1964–March 1965

Nicholas J. Schlosser, 2015. Cloth. 418 pp.

The Greene Papers: General Wallace M. Greene Jr. and the Escalation of the Vietnam War, January 1964–March 1965 contains 

more than 100 documents from the personal papers of the 23d 

Commandant of the Marine Corps and is the rst edited volume 

of personal papers to be published by the Marine Corps History Division as a monograph. Produced by a member of the 

Joint Chiefs of Sta, General Greene’s notes provide a rsthand 

account from one of the main participants in the decisionmaking process that led to the commitment of a large-scale 

American expeditionary force in Southeast Asia.

is volume begins in January 1964 and ends just before 

the landing of the 9th Marine Expeditionary Brigade at Da 

Nang on 8 March 1965, a pivotal moment that marked the 

ocial transition from the United States’ advisory mission to a more active combat mission. In doing so, it traces 

Greene’s growing frustration with Secretary of Defense Robert 

S. McNamara’s and President Lyndon B. Johnson’s equivocation and uncertainty about Southeast Asia. Along with a series of commemorative pamphlets, this book 

is part of the Marine Corps History Division’s eort to mark the ieth anniversary of the Vietnam War.

Reviewed by e Federalist

“. . . his summaries allow us greater insights into the prewar processes of decision making and the military’s 

role in those deliberations—a narrative that will inspire lessons to build upon.”

–Benjamin Guterman
PRESIDENT

of Marine Corps University

Brigadier General Thomas A. Gorry

...

DIRECTOR

of History Division

Dr. Charles P. Neimeyer

DEPUTY DIRECTOR

Paul J. Weber

ADMINISTRATIVE ASSISTANT

Cassandra Bennett

...

HISTORIES BRANCH

Douglas Nash; Paul W. Westermeyer; 

Dr. Brianne Robertson 

...

HISTORICAL INQUIRIES AND

RESEARCH BRANCH

Annette D. Amerman (Branch Head); Beth 

L. Crumley; Kara R. Newcomer

...

ORAL HISTORY

and VIDEO SECTION

Dr. Fred Allison and Dr. Tom Baughn

...

EDITING AND DESIGN BRANCH

Angela J. Anderson (Branch Head); Jennifer Clampet; W. Stephen Hill; Dr. Alexandra Kendall; Robert A. Kocher; Gregory 

A. Macheak; Christiana Sanders

...

MARINE CORPS

HISTORY DIVISION

3078 Upshur Avenue

Quantico, Virginia 22134

Telephone (703) 432-4877

http://www.history.usmc.mil

history.division@usmc.mil

...

COMMANDANT OF THE

MARINE CORPS

Department of the Navy

Headquarters United States

Marine Corps

3000 Marine Corps Pentagon 

Room 2B253

Washington, DC 20530-3000

OFFICIAL BUSINESS 

PCN 10600011300

ISSN 2381-375X

Director’s Foreword

Charles P. Neimeyer, PhD

Winning Hearts and Minds:

e Marine Corps, the Press,

and the Spanish-American War

Susan K. Brubaker

e U.S. Marines in World War I

Part II: e U.S. Marine Corps Reserve Comes to the Fore—

the Marine Corps Reserve Flying Corps

Colonel Walter G. Ford, USMC (Ret)

Rebellion, Repression, and Reform:

U.S. Marines in the Dominican Republic

Breanne Robertson, PhD

e Marine Air-Ground Task Force

in Nicaragua, 1927–33:

A Campaign against Sandino’s Counterinsurgency

Lieutenant Colonel Micheal D. Russ, USMC

Development of Medical Doctrine for Amphibious

Warfare by the U.S. Navy and Marine Corps, 1930–35

Part II

Captain Steven L. Oreck, USN (Ret)

Research Note:

“e Marine Corps’ Mission in National Defense, and Its

Organization for a Major Emergency” 

Memorandum by Colonel omas Holcomb, USMC (1932)

Edited and with an introduction by David J. Ulbrich

Urgency Has Been the Order of the Day:

e Role of the G-1 in Operation Chromite

Edward J. Erickson and Meghan V. Ederle

Review Essay

Soviet Leaders and Intelligence: Assessing the American Adversary 

during the Cold War

e Regional Cold Wars in Europe, East Asia, and the Middle East:

Crucial Periods and Turning Points

Reviewed by Keith D. Dickson

Book Reviews

Cold War on the Airwaves: e Radio Propaganda War

against East Germany

Reviewed by omas I. Faith

Power and Restraint: e Rise of the United States, 1898–1941

Reviewed by Mark R. Folse

Mission Revolution: e U.S. Military and Stability Operations

Reviewed by Lieutenant Colonel Brent C. Bankus, USA (Ret)

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5

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100

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114

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118

 Volume 2, Number 1 Summer 2016

Cover Art: On 19 June 1930, Capt Byron 

F. Johnson, USMC, encountered a large 

hostile group of bandits under Sandino 

on Saraguasa Mountain. He attacked 

with bombs and machine gun fire, and 

although his airplane was severely damaged by bullets, he continued the attack 

until his ammunition was exhausted. For 

this, Johnson was awarded the Navy Distinguished Flying Cross.

Illustration by John J. Capolino,

National Museum of the Marine Corps
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Annihilation Beach: A Story about the Horric Marine Battle

for Tarawa, Day One

Reviewed by Chris Blaker

e Battle of Leyte Gulf: e Last Fleet Action

Reviewed by G. K. Cunningham, PhD

Tanks in Hell: A Marine Corps Tank Company on Tarawa

Reviewed by Paul W. Westermeyer

Uphill Battle: Reections on Viet Nam Counterinsurgency

Reviewed by Marilyn B. Young

Where Youth and Laughter Go: With “e Cutting Edge” 

in Afghanistan

Reviewed by Colonel J. Matthew Lissner, USA

Obituary

Lieutenant General William H. Fitch, USMC (Ret)

by Fred H. Allison, PhD

Coming Soon. . .

Next in the Marines in the Vietnam War Commemorative Series

Hill of Angels

U.S. Marines and the Battle for Con ien 

1967 to 1968

Colonel Joseph C. Long, USMCR (Ret)

Hill of Angels, examines Marine Corps and North Vietnamese actions throughout the region that became known as “Leatherneck 

Square.” More than a dozen Marine operations occured during 

the Battle of Con ien. is account covers those from mid–

1967 to early 1968.

Did you know . . .

All History Division publications—books and this magazine—can be sent free of charge. Shop our full 

catalog of titles at https://www.history.usmc.mil and click on the publications button. Email your requests to history.division@usmc.mil.
Due to a water pipe failure this past January that caused a signicant amount of 

damage to the still unoccupied Brigadier General Edwin H. Simmons Marine 

Corps History Center, History Division has been 

unavoidably delayed moving into our new facility. 

Fortunately, our irreplaceable archival and historical 

reference materials were protected and had not been 

moved into the building. e new relocation date is 

now sometime in fall 2016. 

is edition of Marine Corps History is again full 

of interesting material on the history of our Corps. 

As we prepare to recognize the centennial anniversary of Marines in World War I, I hope our readers 

notice a partial shi in historical focus toward activities of the Corps that took place at the beginning of 

the twentieth century. Our rst article, by Susan K. 

Brubaker, a former Shaw Fellow at History Division, 

provides an excellent launching point for a series of 

articles surrounding the Marine Corps following its 

service during the Spanish-American War. Following 

the Spanish-American War story, former Leatherneck

editor, Colonel Walter G. Ford, USMC (Ret), continues his story on the Marine Corps Reserve during 

World War I; the topic is pathbreaking, and I hope 

he continues to keep up his superb scholarship on 

this particular subject. Colonel Ford’s article is followed by one of History Division’s newest hires, Dr. 

Breanne Robertson, who is rapidly becoming the departmental expert on Marines in the Caribbean. She 

wrote an outstanding piece on a little-known counterinsurgency operation conducted by U.S. Marines 

in the Dominican Republic during and aer World 

War I. Dr. Robertson hopes to expand her work into 

a full-length HD monograph in a year or so. 

Lieutenant Colonel Micheal D. Russ, USMC, has 

Dr. Charles P. Neimeyer

Director, History Division

Marine Corps University

Dr. Charles P. Neimeyer: the director is responsible for the collection, production, publication, 

and dissemination of Marine Corps history and 

manages the functioning of a wide variety of Marine Corps historical programs. 

FOREWORD

Art Collection, National Museum of the Marine Corps

DH-9A by LtCol John J. Capolino, USMCR. Pastel on illustration board, ca. 1930s.

DIRECTOR’S

3
4 MCH Vol. 2, No. 1

written a very timely article on the development of 

one of the earliest examples of the Marine air-ground 

task force (MAGTF) in Nicaragua (1927–33). e 

deployment of Marines to Nicaragua was the largest Corps-wide operation to take place between the 

world wars with approximately 5,000 Marines being 

assigned to peacekeeping operations in Nicaragua in 

1927 alone. It was here that the Marine Corps rst 

experimented with MAGTF operations. e incorporation of organic tactical aviation revolutionized 

U.S. Marine Corps operations, and the valuable lessons learned were put to good use in the Pacic during World War II. In part two of his article on the 

development of medical doctrine during the interwar period, former Captain Steven L. Oreck, USN, 

continues to explore this little known but extremely 

important aspect of the Navy-Marine Corps team. 

We have nothing like his work in any of our History Division les, and Captain Oreck’s contribution 

is very much appreciated. Historian David Ulbrich 

then provides us with an excellent research note on 

the envisioned future role and mission of the Marine 

Corps by future Commandant of the Marine Corps, 

Colonel omas Holcomb. Finally, Edward J. Erickson and Meghan Ederle wrote a very interesting 

piece on Operation Chromite, the battle for Inchon 

during the Korean War. As the authors noted, the 

manpower diculty the Corps found itself in during the early months of the conict was more serious 

than many have previously supposed. 

As usual, the magazine contains a number of 

excellent book reviews on the latest scholarship in 

military history. As director, I continue to be proud 

of what we have been able to accomplish with our 

new magazine and hope to build upon our record of 

excellence into the future. s1775s
Susan K. Brubaker

“. . . the United States does not need a Marine 

Corps . . . the United States wants a Marine Corps.”1

— Lieutenant General Victor H. Krulak, USMC 

The nineteenth century surged to a close on 

a wave of technological advances. “When 

we take into account the marvelous products of inventive genius with which the 

present century abounds . . . we can hardly nd it 

rational to doubt the possibility of anything,” proclaims a 1 April 1898 Atlanta Constitution article 

discussing the possibility of a transatlantic telephone 

cable. e article asserts that “[s]cience within the 

century now drawing to a close has converted the 

world into one vast neighborhood.”2

 Nowhere was 

this more apparent than in the press. e late nineteenth century saw the rise of popular newswire 

services, such as the Associated Press (AP), Reuters, 

and Agence France-Presse, and the advent of a “journalism of information,” which focuses on facts and a 

reporting style that “engages to convince readers of 

the authenticity of such ‘facts’.”3 With the expansion 

of the telegraph system, the relative ease and speed 

of steamship travel, and the laying of underwater 

cables, news was no longer local but global.4

ese technological advances along with the rise 

of the global press proved to be fortuitous developments for the Marine Corps. While most historians 

agree that the seeds of the Corps’ modern expeditionary mission were planted during the Spanish-American War, few have analyzed how press coverage of 

Marine exploits during the war pulled the Corps out 

of the shadow of the U.S. Navy and established it as 

an independent player on the world military stage. 

An examination of press coverage of three events 

around the turn of the century—the attempt to disband the Corps in 1894, Marine actions in the war 

with Spain in 1898, and President eodore Roosevelt’s Executive Order 969 that removed Marines 

from ships in 1908—shows a marked change in attitude about the Marine Corps. Press coverage of 

the Marine Corps during the war helped America 

develop an appreciation for the Corps, and aided in 

its evolution into an independently recognized and 

respected institution.

To understand the Marine Corps’ precarious position in the late nineteenth century, it is necessary 

rst to examine the dynamic changes taking place 

within the Navy at the time. With an unprecedented 

increase in funding, the Navy began rapidly replacing aged wooden ships with modern battleships, 

cruisers, torpedo boats, and other steam-powered 

vessels. Having a modern, untried eet encouraged 

the Navy to reexamine the business of war.5 Toward 

that end, in October 1884, the secretary of the Navy 

established the Naval War College in Newport, 

Winning Hearts

and Minds

THE MARINE CORPS, THE PRESS, 

AND THE SPANISH-AMERICAN WAR

1 LtGen Victor H. Krulak, USMC (Ret), First to Fight: An Inside View of the United States Marine Corps (Annapolis: U.S. Naval Institute Press, 1984), 

xv. Emphasis in original.

2 “A Trans-Marine Telephone,” Atlanta Constitution, 1 April 1898, 6. 3 Oliver Boyd-Barrett and Terhi Rantanen, ed., “Part II: News Agencies in the Furnace of Political Transition: Introduction,” in The Globalization of 

News (Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage Publications, 1998), 104–5; and Oliver Boyd-Barrett, “‘Global’ News Agencies,” in ibid., 19–20. 4 For a listing of advances in the press, see K. M. Shrivastava, “Chronology,” in News Agencies from Pigeon to Internet (Elgin, IL: New Dawn Press, 

2007), 285–90. For detailed discussions on the development of a global news network and its evolution, see Boyd-Barrett and Rantanen, The 

Globalization of News. 5 Cdr Caspar F. Goodrich, USN, “Naval Education,” Journal of Social Science 33 (November 1895): 29.

5
6 MCH Vol. 2, No. 1

Rhode Island, and soon a crop of energetic young 

ocers were envisioning a brilliant future for the 

Navy—a vision that saw no place for the traditional 

role of Marines on board ships.6 

In contrast, the Marine Corps was desperately trying to survive. As historian Robert D. Heinl Jr. notes, 

the Marine Corps has always had “one foot in the 

sea, one foot on land, and its head perpetually under the sword of Damocles.”7 is was particularly 

true in the closing years of the nineteenth century. 

e Corps’ performance during the American Civil 

War had been lackluster. In 1864 and again in 1867, 

the Marine Corps faced abolishment or absorption 

into the Army. Both times, Navy leaders stepped 

in to save the Marine Corps. However, as the Navy 

transitioned to modern ships and ship-to-ship ghting became obsolete, Navy ocials no longer saw a 

need for the traditional policing and boarding party duties the Marines had always performed. With 

increasingly specialized and skilled personnel on 

board its ships, the Navy found the likelihood of mutiny and general disgruntlement greatly diminished. 

Consequently, when the Corps’ existence was challenged again in 1894, the previously stalwart support 

of Navy leadership waivered.8

On 5 February 1894, a bill to reorganize and increase the eciency of the personnel of the Navy 

and Marine Corps was referred to a joint congressional subcommittee on naval aairs.9 ough the 

bill called for the eventual dissolution of the Marine 

Corps and its partial absorption by the Army, the 

American press paid little attention to the possible 

disbanding of the Corps. On 6 February, the Washington Post reported on page six a list of proposed 

changes to the rank structure, organization, and size 

of specic corps within the Navy. Midway down the 

column, the Post mentioned that the rank of colonel 

commandant would be terminated aer the incumbent ocer vacated the position and no further o-

cer commissions or enlistments into the ranks of the 

Marine Corps would occur.10 e New York Times, 

like the Post, listed the Corps’ fate in the middle of a 

summary of the bill that also appeared on page six. 

e Navy’s loss of the rank of commodore and placement of limits on its list of active ocers overshadowed the demise of the Corps.11 e Sun (Baltimore) 

ran an article on page two highlighting what “ocers 

found objectionable” in the bill. e article included 

the planned dissolution by attrition of the Marine 

Corps but gave little emphasis to the issue.12 

In a follow-up Post article, published 10 days later 

and appearing on page seven, the rst hint of pushback against the Corps’ proposed demise surfaced. 

Senator Eugene Hale, the bill’s sponsor, noted that 

the proposed reorganization was “to avoid doing any 

injustice to any individual or corps . . . and to remove, 

as far as possible, all causes of contention among the 

several corps.”13 e New York Times reported on 

6

 “History,” U.S. Naval War College, https://www.usnwc.edu/About/History.aspx.

7 Robert. D. Heinl Jr., “The Cat with More than Nine Lives,” in Crucibles: Selected Readings in U.S. Marine Corps History, ed. Robert S. Burrell (Bel 

Air, MD: Academx Publishing Services, 2004), 22.

8 Ibid., 22–33.

9 Bill To Reorganize and Increase the Efficiency of the Personnel of the Navy, S. 1564, 53d Cong., 2d Sess. (1894). 

10 “Marines and the Navy: An Officer of that Corps Defends Its Usefulness on Shipboard,” Washington Post, 15 April 1894, 6. 11 “Proposed Change in the Navy: Senator Hale’s Scheme to Reorganize Completely Its Personnel,” New York Times, 6 February 1894, 6. 12 “Naval Reorganization Plan: Features of the Bill which Officers Find Objectionable,” Sun (Baltimore), 7 February 1894, 2. 13 “Navy Reorganization: A Statement Explanatory of the Bill Introduced by Mr. Hale,” Washington Post, 16 February 1894, 7.

Photo courtesy of the Washington Post

An article from 6 February 1894 reports on the proposed reorganization of the U.S. Navy, which lists the 

abolition of the U.S. Marine Corps as a minor part of 

planned changes.
Summer 2016 7

page four that “excitement and protest have been 

stirred up by the bill” and that it “antagonizes the 

sta corps and the Marine Corps by cutting down 

the former and abolishing the later.”14 e press was 

duly, if somewhat unenthusiastically, taking note of 

events taking place behind the scenes. In mid-April 

1894, the Marine Corps’ rst public statement ran 

in the papers, at which time the Post, on page 14, 

quoted a “prominent marine ocer” as stating that 

the bill’s framers had forgotten that Marines were 

“the ghting men on board ships to-day” and that 

“in time of action it is the marine who can be called 

upon for everything.”15

Press coverage, though not blatantly supportive of 

the Marine Corps, still had a powerful impact on the 

future of the Corps. On 31 July 1894, Secretary of 

the Navy Hilary A. Herbert issued Navy Department 

Special Circular No. 16 to all U.S. naval commanders. 

Herbert stated he had received a petition from petty 

ocers and men of a Navy vessel requesting Marines 

be removed from their ship. “is petition,” he stated, “contains an argument and is fortied by extracts 

from newspapers and periodicals, the circulation of 

which among the sailors is calculated to breed discord 

between them and the marines and their ocers.” 

Herbert believed the inammatory material was being handed around “at the instigation, or at least with 

the knowledge and approbation, of certain commissioned ocers of the Navy.” As required, Herbert 

forwarded the petition to Congress but clearly was 

not pleased. In a rm rebuke to his troublemaking 

junior ocers, he stated that the Navy Department, 

“aer maturely considering the subject” and “in view 

of the honorable record made by the United States 

Marine Corps,” was convinced Marines had a place 

on board Navy ships.16 e press picked up the circular’s theme. On 2 August, the Sun included a lengthy 

article on page two under the headline, “Defends the 

Marines.” e article related the contents of Herbert’s 

circular and voiced the criticism, “For a number of 

years, and especially since the completion of the rst 

ships of the new navy, there has been an attempt 

made to prejudice the service against the marines.” 

e article put the blame for the petition rmly on 

the shoulders of Navy ocers, and quoted Herbert 

as stating, “e government has not anywhere in its 

service a more faithful or ecient body of men than 

the United States Marine Corps.”17 Lacking a consensus, Congress eventually tabled the matter, and the 

Marine Corps survived the attempt to have it evicted 

from warships. Unfortunately, Congress failed to address the core question of the Marines’ role in the 

modern eet, but the growing inuence of the press, 

even a relatively disinterested press, was nonetheless 

becoming evident. 

Press coverage of a relatively insignicant incident 

on 14 July 1894 illustrates the growing reach of the 

American media. While Congress and the Department of the Navy were still debating the fate of the 

Corps, the U.S. military was called to arms in Sacramento, California, which was in the throes of a 

railroad strike. e Army attempted to clear striking 

rail workers from the tracks to allow a train to pass. 

e situation deteriorated and shots were red. e 

commander of the Marines at the nearby depot sent 

troops to help clear the streets. Marching with xed 

bayonets, the Marines swept protestors before them 

as the Army cavalry rushed the crowd, a U.S. marshal leading the charge. Martial law was declared, 

and a restive calm returned to the city. News of the 

incident appeared in diverse publications, including 

the Los Angeles Times and the Chicago Daily Tribune,

on the same day thanks to the AP.18 News of conicts 

14 “The Personnel of the Navy,” New York Times, 19 February 1894, 4. 15 “Marines and the Navy,” 14.

16 H. A. Herbert, Special Circular No. 16 (Washington, DC: Department of the Navy, 31 July 1894). 17 “Defends the Marines: Secretary Herbert Convinced of the Corps’ Usefulness,” Sun (Baltimore), 2 August 1894, 2. 18 “To the Wall: The Strikers Are in a Bad Way,” Los Angeles Times, 14 July 1894, 1; “Under Martial Law: Sacramento, Cal., Is Now Ruled by the 

Military,” Chicago Daily Tribune, 14 July 1894, 3; and “AP’s History,” Associated Press, http://www.ap.org/company/history/ap-history.

Congressional Record of Special Circular No. 16, 

53 Cong. (9 August 1894)

Secretary of the Navy H. A. Herbert suspected that junior 

officers were behind petitions demanding the removal 

of Marines from Navy ships. Herbert’s circular warned 

that any naval officers found to be involved “would be 

visited unhesitatingly with the severe condemnation of 

the Department [of the Navy].” 
8 MCH Vol. 2, No. 1

at home and abroad was common in the years leading up to the Spanish-American War, and the Marine Corps was consistently reported in the midst of 

them. More frequently, Marines would also nd an 

intrepid reporter nearby, feeding stories of danger 

and heroism to an eager public.

By the end of 1895, America was focused on a 

probable war with Spain. In Political Science Quarterly, an article on political events for the year noted 

that “the only topic of importance” was the United 

States’ attitude toward Spain regarding Cuban insurgents. “Many manifestations of sympathy with 

the insurgents,” the journal warned, “have appeared 

in all parts of the United States, and the so-called 

‘Jingo’ press has advocated governmental action in 

their support.”19 In a 3 September 1895 speech to the 

Social Science Association, Commander Caspar F. 

Goodrich said that the Navy deprecated war but was 

“full of energetic ocers who would quickly prot by 

any oered chance to distinguish themselves through 

valorous acts of seamanship and tactics. . . . It is our 

business and our duty to our country and our ag, 

to contrive and to study, that we may be ready when 

the call sounds.”20 e Navy had a modern eet that 

had never been tried in war, and its leadership was 

focused on a perceived “inevitable” war with Spain. 

No nation, according to Admiral Stephen B. Luce, 

could avoid war forever.21 e sinking of the USS 

Maine (ACR 1) by a mysterious explosion in Cuba’s 

Havana Harbor on 15 February 1898 spurred U.S. 

media headlines decrying treachery.22 Newspapers 

dispatched correspondents.

19 William A. Dunning, “Record of Political Events,” Political Science Quarterly X, no. 4 (December 1895): 8. 20 Goodrich, “Naval Education.”

21 Adm S. B. Luce, USN, “Naval Warfare under Modern Conditions,” North American Review 126 (January 1896): 70–77. 22 “1898: The Maine Explodes,” This Day in History, History.com, http://www.history.com/this-day-in-history/the-maine-explodes.

Library of Congress, Chronicling America: Historic American Newspapers

The sinking of the USS Maine (ACR 1) in Havana Harbor, Cuba, was the catalyst for the Spanish-American War and 

also caused American news correspondents to scurry to Cuba. 
Summer 2016 9

ticle clearly identies Anthony as a Marine but states 

that he spent 10 years in the Army before enlisting 

in the Navy, “and there he has since remained.”27 Before the Spanish-American War, this treatment of 

Marines as a mere corps in the Navy was common 

in the press and led to a somewhat muddled identity 

among the populace. 

As the nation mobilized troops and massed an 

army of invasion in Tampa, Florida, press coverage of the war began to change. Many newspapers 

had correspondents in Cuba, but not all did. ose 

without access to overseas correspondents relied on 

traditional stateside sources. e “old-fashioned” articles speculated on events and couched their stories 

in terms of the broader concerns of their sources. 

Newspapers with deployed correspondents or access 

to AP reports lled their pages with eyewitness accounts, which relied on technology to get the story 

home to the states. As a result, newspapers became 

increasingly interested in the military’s control over 

the ow of information. Newspaper articles decried 

the lack of information available about ship and 

troop movements, both in the United States and 

Spain.28 Members of the press speculated that, despite being a signatory of an international convention against “interference with cables,” the United 

States had cut the telegraph cable from Key West, 

Florida, to Cuba.29 ese were not baseless concerns or complaints. In fact, as soon as it arrived in 

Cuba, the U.S. Navy asked for volunteers to cut the 

cables in Havana Harbor. ough members of the 

press chafed at the military’s limitations on the ow 

of information, they still reported the cutting of the 

Havana-Santiago cable in heroic terms.30 e eyewitness accounts of events abroad changed the nature of 

newspaper articles. 

Diering coverage of the landing of Marines at 

In the following days, U.S. newspapers speculated on Spain’s treacherous role in the disaster and 

demanded retribution. e U.S. military prepared 

for war, and the press covered every detail. Articles 

from across the country described men ocking to 

enlist, and many articles advised interested enlistees where recruiting stations could be found.23 e 

East Coast Navy yards experienced an inux of men 

ready to join. One recruitment story at the time illustrated the dierence in relative status between the 

Navy and the Marine Corps. Charles B. Hobbs, who 

arrived at the Philadelphia Navy Yard in late April 

1898, wanted to enlist in the Navy. Because he and 

a friend were neither seamen nor machinists, the 

Navy turned both away. e men then decided to 

“tackle the Marine Corps.” Aer enlisting and being sworn in, Hobbs and a fellow recruit donned 

their uniforms and headed into town. e local boys 

greeted the Marine recruits with shouts of “Halleuah” and “Amen, brother.” e Marines soon realized they were being mistaken for members of the 

Salvation Army.24 Despite articles that detailed Marines at the Charlestown Navy Yard in Boston, Massachusetts, preparing to “maintain the record of the 

Corps,” the public and press seemed to have a vague 

understanding of the Marine Corps’ relationship to 

the Navy.25 Articles about “Brave Bill Anthony” the 

“Hero of the Maine” exemplied the apparent confusion. Private William “Bill” Anthony was a Marine 

orderly on the Maine when it exploded in Havana 

Harbor. Meeting Captain Charles D. Sigsbee in the 

smoke-lled corridor outside of his quarters, Anthony calmly stated, “Excuse me, sir, but I have to 

inform you that the ship is blown up and sinking.”26

Almost identical versions of Anthony’s heroism appeared in newspapers in Holbrook, Arizona; Shiner, 

Texas; and Chicago, Illinois, among others. Each ar23 “Marine Barracks Crowded,” Washington Post, 2 April 1898, 6; “Naval Recruits Go to Norfolk,” Atlanta Constitution, 7 April 1898, 5; “Every Man 

Volunteered,” Boston Daily Globe, 8 April 1898, 5; and “Where to Enlist for Service,” Boston Daily Globe, 23 April 1898, 4. 24 Charles B. Hobbs biographical file, “Daily log, April 1898 to May 1900,” Historical Inquiries and Research Branch (HIRB), Marine Corps History 

Division (MCHD), Quantico, VA.

25 “Given Extra Drill: Marines at Navy Yard Preparing to Maintain the Record of the Corps,” Boston Daily Globe, 31 March 1898, 4. 26 “‘Bill’ Anthony: The Hero of the Maine Disaster,” Chicago Tribune, 21 February 1898, 2. 27 “Hero of the Maine,” Argus (Holbrook, AZ), 7 May 1898, 8; “Hero of the Maine Disaster,” Shiner Gazette (Shiner, TX), 2 March 1898, 3; and “Hero 

of the Maine,” Chicago Eagle, 16 April 1898, 8. 28 “Mission Is Unknown,” Washington Post, 25 April 1898, 3; “Cruisers Go to Sea Suddenly,” Atlanta Constitution, 24 April 1898, sec. PART 1, 4; 

and “Hot Criticism in the Press,” Chicago Daily Tribune, 4 May 1898, 2. 29 “The Key West Cable,” New York Times, 26 April 1898, 7. 30 “Cable Cutters Given Hot Reception by Spanish Soldiers at Cienfuegos,” Atlanta Constitution, 15 May 1898, sec. PART 1, 3; “Fight at Cienfuegos,” Chicago Daily Tribune, 15 May 1898, 1; and “Fight at Cienfuegos,” New York Times, 15 May 1898, 1.
10 MCH Vol. 2, No. 1

Guantánamo Bay, Cuba, in June 1898 is an example 

of this change. A front-page article in the Boston 

Daily Globe on 12 June declared: “Navy Wins: Guantanamo Seized by Uncle Sam’s Sea Soldiers.” e article’s subhead admonished the Army to hurry as the 

“Sailors Have Taken the Bloom O the Peach.” Similar to coverage of the 1894 bill to disband the Marine 

Corps, the article only mentions Marines in passing and depicts the “race for glory” as one between 

the Army and the Navy.31 In contrast, the Chicago 

Daily Tribune ran an article the same day that gives 

an eyewitness account of the action and includes a 

sketch of Guantánamo Bay, complete with a waving 

U.S. ag. e correspondent describes Lieutenant 

Colonel Robert W. Huntington as “a handsome and 

soldierly man, with prominent, clear cut features” 

who was “considered one of the best ocers in the 

service.” e article also notes that “Color Sergeant 

Silvey and Private Bill Anthony, late of the Maine, 

are warm friends, having been messmates for een 

years.”32 e personal details and the sketch of the 

bay created a memorable account of events and personalized the war for readers back home. And that 

article was just a foreshadowing of the personalized 

articles on the Marines that would come out of the 

war.

As the war began with only the Navy and Marine Corps participating, vivid and detailed stories 

of the ghting lled the newspapers. An AP article 

in the Wheeling Daily Intelligencer described how a 

battalion of Marines landed from the transport ship 

USS Panther (AD 6) under the command of Lieutenant Colonel Huntington and had “been engaged in 

beating o a bush attack by Spanish guerrillas and 

regulars since 3 o’clock Saturday aernoon.” e reporter relates the tragic death of Army surgeon John 

B. Gibbs in a way that makes readers feel they are 

personally witnessing the scene: “He was shot in 

the head in front of his own tent, the farthest point 

of the attack. He fell into the arms of Private Sullivan and both dropped. A second bullet threw dust 

in their faces. Surgeon Gibbs lived ten minutes, but 

did not regain consciousness.”33 e dierence between the vivid eyewitness accounts in the Tribune

and Intelligencer and the traditional style used in the 

Globe article is apparent, illustrating the power the 

war correspondent had to personalize the war for 

the stateside reader. e old style of citing an unnamed special correspondent to give a partisan view 

of events became overshadowed by the gripping personal drama depicted in the stories of the embedded 

reporter. In addition, on-scene reporters understood 

31 “Navy Wins: Guantanamo Seized by Uncle Sam’s Sea Soldiers,” Boston Daily Globe, 12 June 1898, 1. 32 “Bay of Guantanamo and Caimanera,” Chicago Daily Tribune, 12 June 1898, 3. 33 “Spanish Attack,” Wheeling Daily Intelligencer, 13 June 1898, 1.

Library of Congress, Chronicling America: 

Historic American Newspapers

On 16 June 1898, the Salt Lake Herald ran a front-page 

illustration of Marines landing at Guantánamo Bay, 

Cuba. “Drawn from sketches supplied to the New York 

press from Cuban sources, supplemented by cable descriptions,” the illustration is an example of how modern technology and a network of sources brought the 

war home to everyday Americans. 
Summer 2016 11

the distinction between the Marine Corps and the 

Navy, and carefully reported who took part in what 

action, unlike the Boston Daily Globe’s special correspondent who framed his story in vague terms of 

the “glory” of one Service over another.

Reporters such as Stephen Crane, Silvester Scovel, 

Charles rall, Alex Kenealy, and Hayden Jones took 

great personal risk to get their information, and were 

oen given credit for their stories by name, which 

was unusual at that time. rall and Jones were even 

arrested, jailed in Cuba, and held for two weeks 

before U.S. troops arrived and ransomed them.34

Crane, who was part of “the rst American Newspaper to open a headquarters on Cuban Soil,” was a 

special correspondent for the New York World.

35 He 

covered every moment of the Cuban campaign, often following troops into combat, and even served 

as an aide for Captain George F. Elliott during the 

battle for Cuzco well. e Marine Corps especially 

beneted from Crane’s reporting. Crane was with 

the Marines for the landing at Guantánamo Bay, 

their three days of continuous ghting, and the taking of the freshwater well at Cuzco, which nally secured the bay as a safe harbor for the Navy.36 Some of 

Crane’s most vivid stories were depictions of messages being signaled, or wigwagged, from shore to ship. 

Crane—whose stories oen referenced the courage a 

signalman needed to expose himself to the enemy in 

order to relay his message—had great admiration for 

the signalmen. One of Crane’s stories tells of Huntington coming to the signalmen one night to send 

a message. “So the colonel and the private stood side 

to side and took the heavy re without either moving a muscle,” Crane wrote. According to Crane, one 

ocer was so concerned for Huntington’s safety that 

he asked the colonel to step down. “ ‘Why, I guess, 

not,’ said the grey old veteran in his slow, sad, always 

gentle way. ‘I am in no more danger than the man’, ”

Crane wrote.37 Crane’s vibrant and intimate details 

revealed the character of the men he wrote about and 

personalized the war for readers back in the states. 

Perhaps the most inuential story Crane wrote 

was that of Sergeant John H. Quick during the battle for control of the well at Cuzco. e crew of the 

USS Dolphin (PG 24), which was providing gunre 

support, was unaware that a Marine company had 

moved to ank the enemy. When the ship’s guns 

unwittingly red on the Marines’ position, Captain 

Elliott, the ranking Marine present, called for a signalman. Crane related the events that followed:

Sergeant Quick arose and announced that he 

was a signalman. He produced from somewhere a blue polka-dot neckerchief as large as 

a quilt. He tied it on a long, crooked stick. en 

he went to the top of the ridge and, turning his 

back to the Spanish re, began to signal to the 

Dolphin. . . . To deliberately stand up and turn 

your back to a battle and hear immediate evidences of the boundless enthusiasm with which 

34 “Held by the Enemy,” Boston Daily Globe, 29 May 1898, 6. 35 R. W. Stallman and E. R. Hagemann, ed., The War Dispatches of Stephen Crane (New York: New York University Press, 1964), 136–37. 36 The 1st Marine Battalion (Rein) Muster Roll, Spanish-American War of 1898, Guantanamo, Cuba, 26, Robert M. Pendleton, ed., Wars: SpanishAmerican (folder 2 of 5), HIRB, MCHD, Quantico, VA.

37 Stallman and Hagemann, War Dispatches of Stephen Crane, 151.

Special Collections Research Center, Syracuse University Libraries

While embedded with the Marines at Guantanamo Bay, 

American writer Stephen Crane wrote accounts of the 

heroic actions he witnessed. 
12 MCH Vol. 2, No. 1

a large company of the enemy shoot at you 

from an adjacent thicket is, to my mind at least, 

a very great feat. . . . I saw Quick betray only one 

sign of emotion. As he swung his clumsy ag 

to and fro, an end of it once caught on a cactus 

pillar, and he looked sharply over his shoulder 

to see what had it. He gave the ag an impatient 

jerk. He looked annoyed.38 

For his actions, Quick received the Medal of Honor. Aer the initial run, Crane’s story was reprinted 

in McClure’s Magazine and in a book of war stories 

Crane published aer the war.39 

While Crane was perhaps the most famous war 

correspondent at the time, he was not the only correspondent. First-person accounts of the war by AP 

reporters, for example, lled the pages of newspapers in such places as Los Angeles, California; Anaconda, Montana; Sacramento, California; Wheeling, 

West Virginia; and Willmar, Minnesota, and helped 

put a personal face on the war.40 War reporting had 

become big business. 

In fact, aer the war, McClure’s Magazine printed 

a ve-page article titled “How the News of the War 

is Reported,” that discussed the high cost newspapers had incurred to get the story, including paying 

correspondents and insuring and supplying dispatch 

boats to ferry stories to Key West, Florida. According to the article, aer the sinking of the Maine,“half 

a hundred great newspapers began to ll with news 

and pictures.” Reporters had nearly unlimited access. Many U.S. Navy warships, including Admiral 

William T. Sampson’s agship the USS New York

(ACR 2), had correspondents on board. Onshore 

correspondents like Crane used complex systems 

to meet dispatch ships and transmit news.41 is 

well-funded and well-organized system allowed for 

more intimate coverage of the war than the public 

had experienced during previous conicts. While it 

is impossible to specically gauge whether Crane’s 

vivid stories of Marines in Guantánamo inuenced 

Americans’ attitudes toward the Corps, the SpanishAmerican War undoubtedly brought the Marine 

Corps into the national spotlight. 

at spotlight did not fade with the war. Soon, 

Marines were on the ground in the Philippines, China, and Guam, and stories of their exploits appeared 

regularly in U.S. newspapers.42 But despite the coverage, trouble was stirring once again for the Corps. 

Even as Congress voted to improve pay for Marines 

and to increase their numbers, a new attempt to disband the Corps was brewing. is time, however, 

when the news hit the papers, the press was anything 

but disinterested. 

On 10 December 1906, Chief of the Bureau of 

Navigation Rear Admiral George A. Converse testi-

ed before the House Committee on Naval Aairs 

that the Marine Corps belonged onshore—emphasizing that the Corps was an expeditionary force not 

a police force.43 Four months later, aer much debate, 

Navy Secretary Victor H. Metcalf tabled the matter, 

stating that the issue of Marines serving on ships 

had already been decided. Unfortunately for the Marine Corps, the debate did not end there. President 

eodore Roosevelt agreed with Admiral Converse 

that the Marine Corps should be an overseas expeditionary force and a domestic garrison. Roosevelt, 

a close friend of Army General Leonard Wood, also 

believed the Corps could better perform those duties 

as part of the Army.44 On 12 November 1908, Roosevelt issued Executive Order 969, which dened the 

duties of the United States Marine Corps.45 Metcalf 

38 Ibid., 153–54.

39 Stephen Crane, “Marines Signaling Under Fire at Guantanamo,” McClure’s Magazine, February 1899; Stephen Crane, “Marines Signalling [sic] 

Under Fire at Guantanamo,” in Wounds in the Rain: War Stories (New York: Frederick A. Stokes Co., 1900), 178–89. 40 For examples, see “Forty-Eight Hours of Fighting,” Herald (Los Angeles), 15 June 1898, 1; “The Invasion of Cuba Has Begun,” Anaconda Standard (Montana), 31 May 1898, morning edition, 1; “Spanish Attack,” Wheeling Daily Intelligencer (West Virginia), 13 June 1898, 1; and “Fight 

Continues,” Willmar Tribune (Minnesota), 14 June 1898, 5. 41 Ray Stannard Baker, “How the News of the War Is Reported,” McClure’s Magazine, September 1898, 491–95. 42 “Marines for Cavite,” New York Times, 14 March 1899, 1; “Marines Ordered to Philippines,” Atlanta Constitution, 29 July 1899, 2; “We Landed 

Marines in China,” New York Times, 27 November 1898, 1; “American Marines in China,” Sun, 28 November 1898, 6; “Marine Guards Got Guam,” 

New York Times, 4 January 1899, 5; and “Guam’s Naval Station,” Sun, 12 January 1899, 6. 43 Bureau of Navigation—Statement of Rear-Admiral George A. Converse Before the House Committee on Naval Affairs, 59th Cong., 2d sess. 28 

(10 December 1906).

44 Heinl, “The Cat with More than Nine Lives,” 30–31.

45 Status of the U.S. Marine Corps: Hearings Before the House Subcommittee on Naval Academy and Marine Corps, Committee on Naval Affairs 

(HRG-1909-NAH-0003), 60th Cong., 2d Sess. (1909), 395–96.
Summer 2016 13

resigned due to ill health, and on 18 November, Truman H. Newberry, acting Navy secretary, on mandate from Roosevelt, ordered Marine detachments 

o Navy warships.46 

e executive order evoked an immediate response in the newspapers. e New York Times ran a 

front-page article stating that the president “promulgated the order on the recommendation of a number of line ocers of the navy” and that the order 

resulted in “deep and grievous grumbling within the 

Marine Corps.”47 A similar page-one article in the 

Sun (Baltimore) stated, “As a result of the eorts of 

navy ocers to relegate the Marine Corps, the President today issued an executive order removing the 

marine detachments from all men-of-war.”48 News 

articles celebrating the Corps’ proud history began 

appearing in newspapers across the country. e 

Boston Daily Globe published a poem titled “Semper 

Fidelis” that opens with a lament about the Marine 

Corps being pushed out to “temper the spleen of 

the sailor man.” It lists past glories of the Corps and 

acknowledges that in peacetime the country could 

survive without the Marines, but warns of a time 

when America would “want the brawn of the ‘Leathernecks’ ” but “the want may be in vain.”49 An article 

in the Youth’s Companion explains the presidential 

order, gives a brief history of the Corps, and concludes that Marines “performed deeds which have 

made them respected by the other branches of the 

service, and loved by all the people.”50 Whether the 

other Services respected the Marines was debatable; 

however, no reason existed to doubt the aection the 

American people now felt for the Marine Corps.

Unlike previous attempts, the president’s order 

did not specically threaten to abolish the Marine 

Corps—it merely delineated the Corps’ duties and 

serving on ships was no longer among those duties.51

e public was outraged. One day aer the executive order was signed, an article in the Chicago Daily 

Tribune speculated that, since the president was “depriving” the Marines of sea duty, the Army would 

eventually absorb the Corps.52 By December 1908, 

a move was afoot in Congress to counter the order. 

On 12 December, the Sun reported that some congressmen wanted to overturn the president’s order; 

a “prominent member of the House” warned that “if 

the Naval Committee did not take some step to defend the Marine Corps, a provision would be oered 

on the oor of the House expressing disapproval of 

the President’s policy.”53 e Senate also took action. 

On 17 December, it passed a resolution questioning 

the president’s authority to remove Marines from 

ships and referred the matter to the Senate Com46 Heinl, “The Cat with More than Nine Lives,” 29–33; and, Status of the U.S. Marine Corps, 396–98. 47 “No Marines on Ships: Sailor-Soldiers by New Order to Be Kept Ashore,” New York Times, 13 November 1908, 1. 48 Theodore Roosevelt, “Blow to Marine Corps: President Orders Marines Taken Off Men-of-War,” Sun (special dispatch), 13 November 1908, 1. 49 “Semper Fidelis,” Boston Daily Globe, 21 November 1908, 6. 50 “The Marines,” Youth’s Companion 82, no. 50 (10 December 1908): 626. 51 Status of the U.S. Marine Corps, 395–96. 52 “Marines Shifted to Duty on Land: President’s Order Believed to Mean Revolution for the Whole Corps,” Chicago Daily Tribune, 13 November 

1908, 4.

53 “Stand by Marine Corps,” Sun, 12 December 1908, 5.

National Portrait Gallery, NPG.68.28

President Theodore Roosevelt’s Executive Order 969 

regarding the duties of Marines caused a firestorm in 

the press and launched congressional investigations 

into the status of the Marine Corps and the power of 

the president. 
14 MCH Vol. 2, No. 1

mittee on Military Aairs.54 e House acted rst. 

On 7 January 1909, the House Subcommittee on Naval Academy and Marine Corps began questioning 

Navy ocers to “elicit information as to the present 

and prospective status of the Marine Corps.”55 

A parade of Navy ocers testied. e majority 

of those ocers stated they favored the removal of 

Marines from ships but preferred to retain the Marines rather than lose them to the Army. Meanwhile, 

newspapers churned out stories. e Washington Post

editorialized that Marines were removed from Navy 

ships because they “irritated” sailors. “To set against 

the splendid service of marines aboard ship . . . the 

mere fact that they irritate the sailor, which has not 

been proved,” the editor argued, was no reason to deny 

Marines their traditional role.56 Articles in support of 

Marines appeared in the Atlanta Constitution, Boston 

Daily Globe, New York Times, Christian Science Monitor, and Outlook weekly magazine, among others.57 

e prevalent news coverage of the Marine Corps 

was even introduced into the Congressional Record. 

Testimony revealed that Commander William Fullam was behind the 1894 movement to remove Marines from Navy ships and that he had written the 

letter to Secretary Herbert in 1906 that instigated the 

situation Congress was currently investigating. Fullam was ordered to appear before the committee.58

When he nally took the stand, Fullam engaged in 

combative exchanges with the board. Confronted 

with testimony from the head of the Navy’s Bureau 

of Navigation that “bluejackets” (sailors) had never 

complained about Marines being on ships, Fullam 

contended that the Marines were untouchable and 

that complaining was pointless because the Corps’ 

“inuence” was too strong to ght. Queried for details, Fullam replied that sailors saw statements “all 

through the newspapers” that Marines must be kept 

on board ships to control them. He introduced arPhoto courtesy of the Washington Post

A full-page article in the 29 November 1908 Washington Post was just one of several that appeared in newspapers 

across the United States in response to Executive Order 969. Unlike in 1894, the press extensively covered this 

threat to the Marine Corps.

54 Committee on Military Affairs, 60th Cong., 2d sess., S. Res. 235 (17 December 1908).

55 Status of the U.S. Marine Corps, 395. 56 H. B., “Duties of Marines: Difficult and Expensive to Replace Them with Bluejackets,” Washington Post, 9 January 1909, 6. 57 “Fight for the Marines,” Atlanta Constitution, 7 January 1909, 2; “Marines Back on Ships,” Boston Daily Globe, 8 January 1909, 5; “May Put Back 

the Marines,” New York Times, 8 January 1909, 2; “Marines Are Fighting Order of Roosevelt,” Atlanta Constitution, 14 January 1909; 9; “Vote Marines Back on Ships,” Christian Science Monitor, 15 January 1909, 1; and “The Marines and the President’s Order,” Outlook, 23 January 1909, 132. 58 Status of the U.S. Marine Corps, 522.
Summer 2016 15

ticles from the Greenville News (North Carolina), a 

Dallas, Texas, paper, and the New Orleans Picayune 

to support his point. “e mere fact that such things 

are published abroad, broadcast over this country,” 

Fullam argued, “is reason enough for withdrawing 

the cause of it.”59 Building on those statements, he 

reasoned that this public attitude inuenced junior 

ocers, who, as a result, learned not to trust their 

men. In short, Fullam maintained that the superiority of the Marines, as perpetuated by the press, kept 

the Navy from reaching its full potential. Additionally, he claimed that press coverage “seriously injures 

the reputation of the blue jacket among the people at 

large, and aects the recruiting, and aects respect 

for his [the sailor’s] uniform.” Fullam also added that 

having Marines on ships “creates a privileged military class, subordinating the blue jacket to a man 

who is in no respect his [the sailor’s] superior and is, 

in many respects his inferior.”60

Predictably, the Commandant of the Marine 

Corps, then Brigadier General George F. Elliott (and 

coincidentally the ocer in Crane’s wig-wag ag account at Cuzco well), took oense and interrupted 

the proceedings. Fullam refused to back down, asserting that Marines were “looked up to as the élite 

corps aboard ship . . . that they have insisted on 

their being the élite corps.”61 Fullam’s hostile attitude brought a series of rebuttals from the Marine 

Corps and from the congressmen present. e board 

dismissed Fullam’s arguments as unfounded. e 

subcommittee determined that the president had 

insucient reasons for removing the Marines, and 

also found that the cost of removal would be more 

than if Marines simply returned to shipboard duty. 

Congress then made the Naval Appropriations Act 

of 1910 contingent upon Marines serving on board 

Navy ships.62 

Heinl argues in his article “e Cat with More 

than Nine Lives” that practicality saved the Corps 

in the days between the Civil War and World War 

I. While true, practicality was not the Corps’ only 

saving grace. In “Evolution of the U.S. Marine Corps 

as a Military Elite,” Dennis Showalter writes, “e 

change of the Marine Corps’ status is inseparable 

from the emergence of the modern war correspondent.”63 Undeniably, the growing power of the press 

played a part in maintaining the status of the Corps. 

In fact, most historians of the Spanish-American 

War mention the inuence of the press in some way. 

Piero Gleijeses focuses on the power of the press 

in his 2003 article, “1898: e Opposition to the 

Spanish-American War.”64 John A. Corry contends 

in 1898: Prelude to a Century that yellow journalism 

and the “heat of public opinion” forced America into 

war with Spain. In support, he quotes a Maine conLibrary of Congress, LC-DIG-ggbain-19371

RAdm William F. Fullam was behind the 1894 and 1909 

attempts to remove Marines from U.S. Navy ships. Fullam believed that Marines should be an expeditionary 

force—a position the Marine Corps later embraced. 

59 Ibid., 550, 541–42.

60 Ibid., 547.

61 Ibid., 548.

62 Naval Service Appropriations Act of 1910, Pub. L. No. 60-308, 35 Stat. 753 (1909), 773–74.

63 Dennis E. Showalter, “Evolution of the U.S. Marine Corps as a Military Elite,” in Crucibles, 6. 64 Piero Gleijeses, “1898: The Opposition to the Spanish-American War,” Journal of Latin American Studies 35, no. 4 (1 November 2003): 681–719.
16 MCH Vol. 2, No. 1

gressman as saying, “Every Congressman had two 

or three newspapers in his district . . . shouting for 

blood.”65 If the press had the power to nudge a nation toward war, it certainly had the power to save 

a long-standing branch of the armed forces. While 

no evidence conclusively shows that newspapers and 

public sentiment swayed Congress to save the Marine Corps in 1909, it is clear that the attitudes of 

the press and the public toward the Corps distinctly changed between 1894 and 1909. e press, like 

65 John A. Corry, 1898: Prelude to a Century (New York: Fordham University Press, 1998), 103. 66 Heinl, “The Cat with More than Nine Lives,” 40.

the country, was just nding its footing and exing 

its muscles at the turn of the century. Newspapers 

and, by extension, the American people began looking at the Marine Corps with new interest and affection. Heinl writes that the modern Marine Corps 

has become a “unique, vital, and colorful part of the 

American scene.”66 If that statement is accurate, that 

process began in Cuba with men like Sergeant Quick 

and his wig-wag ag and Stephen Crane and his pen.

s1775s
Colonel Walter G. Ford, USMC (Ret)

Over the course of several parts, we are 

discovering the story of the Marine 

Corps Reserve from its evolution out 

of the state and naval militias into a national defense force, particularly its contribution to 

Marine Corps eorts in the First World War. A discussion of the Reserve’s part in this history would 

be incomplete without an analysis of aviation and its 

role in the Great War.*

e Early Days

e Marine Corps Reserve Flying Corps (MCRFC) 

did not get o the ground rapidly aer Congress 

authorized the Naval Appropriations Act of August 

1916. At that time, aviation in the Marine Corps 

was still in its infancy, and the early leaders in Marine Corps aviation were ghting hard to gain men, 

equipment, and ying elds, working closely with 

the U.S. Navy. Oversight of Marine aviation came 

through a section at Headquarters Marine Corps, 

and little is known of the organization and administration of the budding MCRFC.1

In its youth at the beginning of World War I 

(WWI), Marine aviation can be traced back to the 

rst Marine naval aviator, First Lieutenant Alfred A. 

Cunningham. He appeared on the rolls of the Naval 

Aviation School, U.S. Naval Academy, Annapolis, 

Maryland, as the “Only Marine Ocer Present” in 

May 1912.2

 By August 1912, he was the rst quali-

e U.S. Marines

in World War I

PART II: THE U.S. MARINE CORPS RESERVE COMES

TO THE FORE—THE MARINE CORPS RESERVE FLYING CORPS

ed Marine naval aviator.3 Cunningham became 

known as the “Father of Marine Corps Aviation,” but 

not simply because he was the rst aviator.4

 He was 

a driving force in all early Marine aviation activities 

and particularly in readying the MCRFC for duty in 

the war. 

Bringing on the Marine Corps

Reserve Flying Corps for War

When the United States entered WWI, the Marine 

Corps had six Marine ocers classied as naval 

aviators; although none were identied as reservists.5

 But the surge was on, and a large segment of 

the buildup in aviation manpower came via Marine 

Corps recruiting eorts, selecting highly qualied 

Marine enlisted men for aviation training and the 

Navy Reserve ying programs.

Quick to get into the action, the rst Marine 

17

* This article, one in a series devoted to U.S. Marines in the First World War, is published for the education and training of Marines by the History 

Division, Marine Corps University, Quantico, VA, as part of the Marine Corps’ observance of the centennial anniversary of that war. Editorial costs 

have been defrayed in part by contributions from members of the Marine Corps Heritage Foundation.

1 Reserve Officers of Public Affairs Unit 4-1, The Marine Corps Reserve: A History (Washington, DC: U.S. Government Printing Office, 1966), 11. 2 U.S. Naval Academy, Muster Roll (MRoll), May 1912, Roll 0086, Ancestry.com.

3 Edwin Howard Simmons, The United States Marines: A History, Third Edition (Annapolis, MD: Naval Institute Press, 1998), 87. 4 Alan R. Millett, Semper Fidelis: The History of the United States Marine Corps (New York: Free Press, 1982), 321. 5 Robert Sherrod, “Marine Corps Aviation—The Early Days: Part I,” Marine Corps Gazette 36, no. 5 (May 1952): 55.

Courtesy of Leatherneck magazine

The DH-4 and the Marines in World War I, a watercolor 

by aviation artist Jason Breidenbach, shows the aircraft 

that Marines successfully flew in WWI. 
18 MCH Vol. 2, No. 1

Corps Reserve ocer reported for aviation duty less 

than a month aer war was declared. Reserve Marine Second Lieutenant Edmund G. Chamberlain 

was listed as “on aviation duty” on the muster roll 

of the Aeronautic Company, Advanced Base Force, 

Philadelphia Navy Yard, Pennsylvania, from Houston, Texas, on 2 May 1917. Chamberlain earned his 

wings as Naval Aviator No. 96 1⁄2 and remained in 

Marine Corps aviation during the war, but not as a 

reservist.6

 He integrated into the Marine Corps on 

6 September 1917, prior to earning his naval aviator designation. Chamberlain was followed by Second Lieutenant Marcus A. Jordan from Washington, 

DC, who was listed as “on aviation duty” on 18 May 

1917.7

 By early July 1917, Jordan was posted on the 

muster roll of the 7th Company, 5th Regiment, at the 

Philadelphia Navy Yard and dropped from aviation 

duty, but remained in the Marine Corps Reserve.8

Jordan never lost his love of aviation, and it eventually cost him his life. He deployed to France with 

his regiment and, on 16 October 1917, worked his 

way back into aviation through attachment to the 

Aviation Section, Signal Corps, U.S. Army, where 

he was ordered to the Aviation Training School in 

Foggia, Italy, for “instructions in ying.” Jordan took 

his rst training ight on 28 October 1917.9

 Advancing rapidly, he took his last training ight on 6 

November and became an “Instructor of Cadets in 

Machine Gunnery.”10 While attached to the 8th Aviation Instruction Center in Foggia and still a second 

lieutenant in the Marine Corps Reserve, but not a 

designated naval aviator, he was killed on 27 March 

1918 in a crash during a training ight near Foggia.11

To more eectively build and prepare a Marine 

Corps aviation organization for war, just three weeks 

aer the U.S. declaration of war in April 1917, the 

relatively small Marine Aviation Section, U.S. Navy 

Air Station, Pensacola, Florida, was divided with 

some of the Marines forming the Marine Aeronautic 

Company, Advanced Base Force, Philadelphia Navy 

Yard, under the command of Cunningham. At Pensacola, the training had been focused on seaplanes. 

e new aviation unit at Philadelphia was to be a 

combination land and water unit with training in 

seaplanes, land aircra, and observation balloons.12

On 12 October 1917, to rene aviation organization and focus ight skills, aircra types, and missions, the Marine Aeronautic Company was split 

into two units: 1st Marine Aeronautic Company and 

1st Aviation Squadron.13

e 1st Marine Aeronautic Company, with 10 o-

cers, only one who—Captain Francis T. Evans—was 

designated a naval aviator, and 96 enlisted men, emphasized seaplane operations and relocated to Naval 

Coastal Air Station Cape May, New Jersey. Among 

those ocers arriving at Cape May on 14 October 

Courtesy of Leatherneck magazine

Lt Edmund G. Chamberlain as a Marine first lieutenant 

aviator during WWI. 

6 Roy A. Grossnick, United States Naval Aviation, 1910–1995 (Washington, DC: Naval Historical Center, 1997), 404. 7 Aeronautic Company, Advanced Base Force, Navy Yard, Philadelphia, MRoll, May 1917, Roll 0122, Ancestry.com. 

8 The 7th Company, 5th Regiment, MRoll, July 1917, Roll 0122, Ancestry.com.

9 The 7th Company, 5th Regiment, MRoll, October 1917, Roll 0130, Ancestry.com.

10 The 7th Company, 5th Regiment, MRoll, November 1917, Roll 0128, Ancestry.com.

11 The 7th Company, 5th Regiment, MRoll, March 1918, Roll 0136, Ancestry.com.

12 Maj Edwin N. McClellan, The United States Marine Corps in the World War, facsimile reprint (Washington, DC: Historical Branch, G-3 Division, HQMC, 1968), 71.

13 Ibid.
Summer 2016 19

1917 were two MCRFC ocers who were not yet 

designated naval aviators: Second Lieutenants Alan 

H. Boynton and Amor L. Smith. Also on the initial muster roll of the 1st Marine Aeronautic Company was one Fleet Marine Corps Reserve sergeant 

and two privates in the National Naval Volunteers 

(NNV).14

Although deeply involved in training its potential Reserve pilots, the company immediately became operational, ying sea patrols from Cape May 

with its two Curtiss R-6 seaplanes.15 It became the 

rst Marine Corps aviation unit to deploy in an operational mode for the war when, in January 1918, 

it arrived at Naval Base 13, Ponta Delgada, Azores, 

equipped and ready for sea patrols.16

e other unit formed from the Marine Aeronautic Company was 1st Aviation Squadron, commanded by Cunningham. e new unit, with 24 ocers, 

including one Marine gunner, and 197 enlisted men, 

was moved a little later in October 1917 to an Army 

ying eld, Hazelhurst Field, Mineola, Long Island, 

New York. Cunningham and the second senior of-

cer, Captain Roy S. Geiger, spent a great deal of that 

month away from the unit, leaving Captain William 

M. McIlvain as the senior ocer present in the new 

command. While none of the ocers were noted as 

members of the Marine Corps Reserve on the muster roll, three sergeants and ve privates were, along 

with three NNV.17 Of the initial 24 ocers, only 3 

were designated naval aviators: Cunningham, McIlvain, and Geiger.18

e Army’s Hazelhurst Field focused on training pilots for landplane ying.19 e Marines of 1st 

Aviation Squadron remembered Hazelhurst Field 

because of the intense cold and poor ying conditions.20 But the icy weather was not long endured as 

the Marine Corps’ search for an aviation training site 

in a more favorable climate paid o. On New Year’s 

Day 1918, the 1st Aviation Squadron, including 14 

Reserve second lieutenants not yet designated Marine aviators,21 le Mineola for the more aviationfriendly weather of the Army’s Gerstner Field in 

Lake Charles, Louisiana.22

Training and Qualifying

Marine Corps Reserve Aviators

With Marine aviation training for landplanes now 

at Gerstner Field and seaplane operations at Cape 

May, another Marine aviation training site was being 

pursued by Geiger, who, with a small detachment 

including three MCRFC second lieutenants not yet 

designated naval aviators, moved south to Naval Air 

Station (NAS) Coconut Grove, Florida, in February 1918.23 Marine aviators, trained at this naval air 

station, earned their naval aviator designation ying seaplanes, but Geiger saw the need to get all the 

Official U.S. Marine Corps photo 532357

Marines in the newly formed 1st Aviation Squadron at 

the Philadelphia Navy Yard, prior to departing for Mineola, Long Island, NY, in October 1917. From the left: Sgt 

Ralph D. Henry, USMCR, clerk to the commanding officer; Capt Walter E. McCaughtry; 2dLt Walter H. Batts, 

USMCR; Capt Alfred A. Cunningham; 1stLt Edmund G. 

Chamberlain; and an unidentified Marine.

14 Marine Aeronautic Company, Naval Coastal Air Station, Cape May, MRoll, October 1917, Roll 0130, Ancestry.com; and, names on the above 

muster roll were compared with the designated naval aviators in Roxanne M. Kaufmann, 1912–2012: 100 Years of Marine Corps Aviation: An 

Illustrated History (Quantico, VA: Headquarters Marine Corps, 2011), 314. 15 George B. Clark, “First Marine Aviation Force, 1917–18,” Marine Corps Gazette 97, no. 5 (May 2013): 60. 16 McClellan, United States Marine Corps in the World War, 36. 17 First Aviation Squadron, MRoll, October 1917, Roll 0130, Ancestry.com.

18 Comparing the names on the October MRoll with the designated naval aviators listed by Kaufmann, 100 Years of Marine Corps Aviation, 314. 19 McClellan, United States Marine Corps in the World War, 71. 20 Robert Sherrod, “Marine Corps Aviation—The Early Days: Part I,” Marine Corps Gazette 97, no. 4 (April 2013): 56. 21 First Aviation Squadron, MRoll, January 1918, Roll 0131, Ancestry.com; and Kaufmann, 100 Years of Marine Corps Aviation, 314. 22 Sherrod, “Marine Corps Aviation,” 55.

23 Aeronautic Detachment, MRoll, February 1917, Roll 0133, Ancestry.com; LtCol Edward C. Johnson, USMC, Marine Corps Aviation: The Early 

Years, 1912–1940, ed. Graham A. Cosmas (Washington, DC: History and Museums Division, 1977, reprinted 1991), 17.
20 MCH Vol. 2, No. 1

Corps’ early pilots, including the Marine reservists, 

to add the land dimension to their qualications. 

He arranged for the Marines to use the old Curtiss 

Flying School strip near the Everglades. On 1 April 

1918, the nomadic 1st Aviation Squadron arrived 

at its new home, the newly renamed Marine Flying 

Field Miami, Florida. With this move, Geiger and 

McIlvain’s units were combined and the 1st Marine 

Aviation Force (FMAF) was established.24 e training of pilots greatly expanded as the Navy permitted 

large-scale movement from its aviation units to the 

new Marine unit.25

ree of the Marine Reserve ocers, who had 

been with the 1st Aviation Squadron from Philadelphia to Mineola and at the Marine Flying Field Miami with the recently activated FMAF, serve as good 

examples of the diering routes taken to become naval aviators in the MCRFC: William H. Derbyshire, 

Jesse A. Nelson, and Fred S. Robillard. 

Second Lieutenant Derbyshire, Naval Aviator No. 

533, was the rst MCRFC ocer to be designated a 

naval aviator.26 He did not enter via the U.S. Naval 

Reserve Flying Corps (USNRFC), as did most of the 

early Marine Reserve aviators, and was not former 

enlisted. He enrolled as a second lieutenant in the 

MCRFC at Marine Barracks Philadelphia on 26 September 1917 aer graduating from Harvard and was 

assigned to 1st Aviation Squadron in Philadelphia.27

Second Lieutenants Boynton and Smith preceded Derbyshire’s enrollment in the MCRFC in September 1917 but were not designated naval aviators 

by the time Derbyshire qualied.28 Boynton, Naval 

Aviator No. 856, may well have been delayed in being designated a naval aviator because of the operational tempo of his unit, the 1st Marine Aeronautic 

Company, which began sea patrols o the East Coast 

followed quickly by deployment to the Azores. e 

reason for Smith’s precedence as Naval Aviator No. 

2761 is less evident because he transferred from 

1st Marine Aeronautic Company, Naval Coastal 

Air Station Cape May, on 5 November 1917 to join 

Marine Aviation Section, NAS Pensacola, where he 

remained until 12 January 1918 when he was transferred to Marine Barracks New York, and discharged 

in January 1918.29 He then joined the U.S. Army, 

commissioned a second lieutenant, and honorably 

discharged aer the Armistice.30

Derbyshire trained at the Army ying eld, Mineola, for landplane duty and qualied as a Reserve 

military aviator on 24 November 1917 and then 

moved with Geiger’s Aeronautic Detachment from 

Philadelphia to NAS Coconut Grove, where he was 

designated a naval aviator on 28 February 1918. He 

was injured in an aircra accident in Miami on 12 

March 1918 and remained on sick leave until September of that year. As a result of the accident, his 

designation as a naval aviator was revoked on 17 

September 1918, and he was detached from aviation.31

Nelson’s Marine Corps service and ultimate quali-

cation as a Marine Corps Reserve aviator began 

when he originally enlisted as a private on 27 June 

1913. He reenlisted and, because of special skills, was 

appointed sergeant and assigned to the Aeronautic 

Company, Advanced Base Force, Philadelphia, in 

August 1917.32 Continuing to excel, Nelson was appointed Marine gunner in October 1917 while at 

Mineola and then commissioned a second lieutenant in the MCRFC on 21 December 1917. He relocated with the squadron to Gerstner Field in January 

1918 and attained designation as Naval Aviator No. 

589 while with the FMAF at Marine Flying Field Miami on 17 April 1918. He sailed for France with the 

FMAF in July 1918 and ew with the FMAF as part 

of the Day Wing, Northern Bombing Group, at La 

Fresne, France, until the end of the war. Nelson was 

24 Ibid., 15.

25 Sherrod, “Marine Corps Aviation,” 56–57.

26 Kaufmann, 100 Years of Marine Corps Aviation, 314, provides the naval aviator precedence number and Arthur, Contact! includes short biographical notes with sources of entry and service on each of the first 2,000 naval aviators.

27 Frederick S. Mead, ed., Harvard’s Military Record in the World War (Boston, MA: Harvard Alumni Association, 1921), 262. 28 Aeronautic Company, Advanced Base Force, MRoll, September 1917, Ancestry.com; and Kaufmann, 100 Years of Marine Corps Aviation, 314. 29 Arthur, Contact!, 515; 1st Marine Aeronautic Company, MRoll, November 1917, Roll 0128, Ancestry.com; and Marine Aviation Section, NAS 

Pensacola, MRoll, January 1918, Roll 0131, Ancestry.com.

30 New York, Abstracts of World War I Military Service, 1917–1919, Boxes 717 and 741, Ancestry.com.

31 Arthur, Contact!, 167. 32 Aeronautic Company, MRoll, October 1917, Roll 0125, Ancestry.com.
Summer 2016 21

e First 20 Marine Corps Reserve Naval Aviators

Naval aviator precedence numbers were used to identify the rst Marine Corps Reserve Flying 

Corps (MCRFC) aviators. e rst 20 Marine Corps Reserve naval aviators are listed below by 

name, naval aviator precedence number, and date of designation. All Marine Corps aviators listed 

here came via the U.S. Naval Reserve Flying Corps (USNRFC). Only 1 of these 20, Herman A. Peterson, 

entered the USNRFC via the National Naval Volunteers. Peterson enrolled in the New York Naval Militia 

on 2 March 1917 and was mustered into federal service at Bay Shore, New York, on 7 April 1917 and ordered to Key West, Florida. He was assigned to 1st Marine Aviation Force (FMAF) at Marine Flying Field 

Miami, Florida, while still a lieutenant junior grade in the USNRFC. Peterson accepted an appointment 

as a rst lieutenant in the MCRFC on 16 August 1918 while deployed with the FMAF in France.

Fractions in a naval aviator precedence number are the result of more than one aviator designated 

with that number. If the aviator originally enrolled as a Marine Corps Reserve ocer but disenrolled 

from the Reserve and enrolled in the Marine Corps prior to being designated a naval aviator (e.g., Edmund G. Chamberlain), that Marine aviator is not listed.*

Name Naval aviator number Date designated

Bradford, Doyle** 111 1⁄2 5 November 1917

Webster, Clifford L. 112 1⁄2 5 November 1917

Wright, Arthur H. 148 6 December 1917

Peterson, Herman A. 163 1⁄2 2 November 1917

Laughlin, George McC. III 165 12 December 1917

Ames, Charles B. 193 21 December 1917

Weaver, John H. 251 21 January 1918

Prichard, Alvin L. 279 21 January 1918

Willman, George C. 299 22 January 1918

Elvidge, Herbert D. 424 12 May 1918

Pratt, Hazen C. 426 8 March 1918

Clark, Sidney E. 442 8 March 1918

Schley, Fredrick C.*** 443 8 March 1918

Needham, Charles A. 444 14 March 1918

Bates, John B. 449 25 March 1918

Talbot, Ralph 456 10 April 1918

Comstock, Thomas C. 473 26 March 1918

Clarkson, Francis O. 474 28 March 1918

Williamson, Guy M. 477 25 March 1918

Alder, Grover C. 479 25 March 1918

* The naval aviator precedence numbers and dates are from Kaufmann, 100 Years of Marine Corps Aviation, 314. Confirmation of the 

source of enrollment and status as a member of the Marine Corps Reserve, Class 5, is from “U.S. Marine Corps Muster Rolls, 1893–1958,” 

microfilm T977, 460 rolls, ARC ID: 922159, record group 127, Ancestry.com; and Reginald Wright Arthur, Contact! Careers of U.S. Naval 

Aviators Assigned Numbers 1 to 2000, Vol. 1 (Washington, DC: Naval Aviator Register, 1967).

** Civilian flight instructor with the U.S. Army prior to enrolling in USNRFC.

*** The spelling of his first name on muster rolls varies: Frederick, Frederic, and Fredrick. The muster roll of 4th Squadron, 1st Marine 

Aviation Force, Marine Flying Field Miami lists him as “disenrolled” on 17 August 1917.
22 MCH Vol. 2, No. 1

among the few Reserve aviators who commissioned 

in the Marine Corps. He retired from the Corps because of disability in December 1935.33

Robillard took a dierent route and served as another example of the MCRFC and its contributions 

to success in the Great War. He enrolled as a sergeant 

in the Marine Corps Reserve, Class 4c, on 30 June 

1917 in Chicago. Initially sent to the Aeronautic 

Company, Advanced Base Force, Philadelphia, Robillard was on the roster when the company split, 

and he became an enlisted mechanic in 1st Aviation 

Squadron.34 He trailed along with the squadron to 

Mineola where he was appointed a second lieutenant, MCRFC, Class 5, then on to Gerstner Field with 

the 1st Aviation Squadron in early January 1918.35

Robillard then accompanied the squadron to join 

the FMAF at Marine Flying Field Miami, designated 

Naval Aviator No. 602 on 17 April 1918, and became 

a pilot in Squadron B, FMAF. He sailed with the 

FMAF to be initially assigned to Field “D” near Calais, France, for duty with the Day Wing, Northern 

Bombing Group, where he earned the Navy Cross 

for his actions alongside other Allied armies during 

operations along the Belgian front from September 

1918 to the end of the war. He was released from active duty in 1919, but reentered the Marine Corps 

in 1921, and went on to a very distinguished career, 

retiring as a major general on 1 October 1952.36

e Marine Corps Reserve ocer with the lowest precedence as a naval aviator, Herman A. Peterson, Naval Aviator No. 163 1⁄2, entered the MCRFC 

through the U.S. Naval Reserve Force. Peterson 

had been a member of the New York Naval Militia, 

mustered into federal service with his Navy unit as a 

National Naval Volunteer on 7 April 1917 and designated a naval aviator on 2 November 1917.37 He is 

on the June 1918 FMAF muster roll; however, Peterson was still a lieutenant (junior grade).38 He was 

not discharged from the Navy Reserve to accept his 

appointment as a rst lieutenant in the MCRFC until 

16 August 1918 while in France.39 Peterson earned 

the Navy Cross “for distinguished and heroic service . . . while serving with the First Marine Aviation Force, attached to the Northern Bomb Group 

(USN), in active operation co-operating with the 

Allied Armies on the Belgian Front during September, October and November, 1918, bombing enemy 

Official U.S. Marine Corps photo

Fred S. Robillard was enrolled as a sergeant in the Marine Corps Reserve in June 1917 due to his special skills 

as a mechanic. Commissioned in the USMCR on 17 December 1917, he later earned a Navy Cross in France. 

33 Arthur, Contact!, 183. 34 First Aviation Squadron, MRoll, October 1917, Roll 0130, Ancestry.com.

35 First Aviation Squadron, MRoll, December 1917, Roll 0129, Ancestry.com; and 1st Aviation Squadron, MRoll, January 1918, Roll 0131, Ancestry.com.

36 Arthur, Contact!, 187–88. 37 Ibid., 77. Peterson and George McC. Laughlin, Naval Aviator No.165, are noted on page 16 of Reserve Officers Public Affairs Unit 4-1, The 

Marine Corps Reserve, as former members of the National Naval Volunteers. Contact!, notes Laughlin left Yale University after two years and enrolled as a sailor on 17 April 1917, was designated Naval Aviator No. 165, and was appointed an ensign in the Naval Reserve Flying Corps on the 

same day, 12 December 1917. He transferred to the MCRFC, already a qualified pilot, on 26 May 1918. According to U.S. Naval Aviation, vol. 2, 

Laughlin’s service listed at the time of designation as a naval aviator was National Naval Volunteer. Laughlin also earned a Navy Cross in France.

38 FMAF, MRoll, June 1917, Roll 0141, Ancestry.com.

39 Arthur, Contact!, 77.
Summer 2016 23

Captain omas R. Shearer: 

Texas Naval Militia Member, National Naval

Volunteer, and Marine Corps Reserve Aviator

Captain omas R. “Bull” Shearer was among 

the Marine Corps Reserve’s aviators who did 

not deploy to Europe during WWI but gained 

command stateside. Shearer began his journey to become a Reserve aviator via Company A, Texas National Naval Militia, Marine Corps Branch, in April 

1917.1

 Shearer is possibly the sole Marine aviator to 

gain wartime command with a career beginning in 

the Marine element of a state naval militia.

According to e Recruiters’ Bulletin of March 

1917, Shearer “of Houston, Texas . . . organized 

and mustered into the state Service the rst Marine 

Company in the Texas Naval Militia.” e 51-man 

company asked to be called “e McLemore Marines” in honor of Colonel Albert S. McLemore, 

the assistant adjutant and inspector of the Marine 

Corps, who headed Marine Corps recruiting.2

e Marine company was organized on 10 February 1917 with Shearer as its captain. On 6 April 1917, 

less than two months aer the unit was created, the company was ordered to federal service, the day the 

United States declared war against Germany. 3 e same day, motivated Texans and their enthusiastic 

commander reported to the local rendezvous site in Houston. From there, the company members traveled to the federal rendezvous site in New Orleans, Louisiana, arriving on 12 April. ere they were 

enrolled into the National Naval Volunteers (NNV).4

By late May, Shearer and his unit were stationed at Marine Barracks NAS Pensacola, Florida. In January 1918, while still a member of the NNV, Shearer was transferred to command the Marine Aviation 

Section at NAS Pensacola and began ight training to become a qualied seaplane pilot. 5 On 4 April 

1918, he was designated Naval Aviator No. 559. Just one month later, as the commander, Shearer suspended himself from duty for ve days for “ying in the fog.”6

On 1 July 1918, he transferred from the NNV, Marine Corps Branch, to the Marine Corps Reserve at 

the rank of captain. At that point, he became commander of the Marine Aviation Section, NAS Miami, 

and on 15 July 1918, he was placed in charge of all aerial patrols ying from the NAS. His unit ew the 

dicult air patrols in the Florida Straits until just aer the Armistice.7

1 Company A, Texas National Naval Militia, Marine Corps Branch, MRoll, 12–30 April 1917, Roll 0121. Ancestry.com.

2 “Texas Marine Militia Company,” The Recruiters’ Bulletin, 3, no. 5 (March 1917): 29. 3 Arthur, Contact!, 175. 4 Company A, Texas National Naval Militia, Marine Corps Branch, MRoll.

5 Company A, NNV, Marine Barracks, Aeronautical Station, Pensacola, MRoll, 1–31 May 1917 and Marine Aviation Section, U.S. Naval Air 

Station, Pensacola, MRoll, 1–31 January 1918, Roll 0122, Ancestry.com.

6 Arthur, Contact!, 175; and, Marine Aviation Section, U.S. Naval Air Station, Pensacola, MRoll, 1–31 May 1918, Roll 0139, Ancestry.com. 7 Marine Aviation Section, U.S. Naval Air Station, Miami, MRoll, 1–31 July 1918, Roll 0143 and Marine Aviation Section, U.S. Naval Air Station, Miami, MRoll, 1–30 November 1918, Roll 0154, Ancestry.com.

Official U.S. Marine Corps photo
24 MCH Vol. 2, No. 1

bases, aerodromes, submarine bases, ammunition 

dumps, railroad junctions, etc.”40

e Marine Corps ew into a bit of friction with 

the Navy based on its rejection of a signicant number, 17, of the USNRFC pilots who came to the 

FMAF from the Navy in late May and early June 

1918.41 Cunningham was caught in the middle. Although listed on the FMAF muster roll in June 1918, 

Cunningham, now a captain, remained on temporary duty at Headquarters Marine Corps, leaving 

Geiger at Marine Flying Field Miami to evaluate the 

mix of ocer and enlisted pilots arriving from the 

Navy in June.42 e course of instruction at Marine 

Flying Field Miami was very challenging. It included 

basic or preliminary ying; then advanced acrobatic 

and formation ying; and bombing, gunnery, and 

reconnaissance ights. e reconnaissance training 

included aerial photography.43

Despite being in Washington, DC, Cunningham, 

working for the Major General Commandant, continued his pursuit of additional aviation resources—

people, aircra, more airelds, etc.—while Geiger 

screened and trained would-be Marine aviators in 

Florida. On 11 June 1918, Cunningham wrote Geiger at Marine Flying Field Miami, “Note that the 

Board [run by Geiger] has turned down seventeen of 

the Navy pilots, and believe that they do not realize 

the conditions. As you know one-half of the pilots 

are nothing but machine gunners. e Navy have 

[sic] fallen down on us in the matter of giving more 

pilots.”44 At that time, early June 1918, the Reserves 

listed on the FMAF muster roll included 12 rst 

lieutenants, 51 second lieutenants, 2 sergeants, 37 

privates, 7 NNV and the muster roll listed as Navy, 

2 assistant surgeons, 1 lieutenant (junior grade), 33 

ensigns, and 1 seaman second class and 10 pharmacist mates.45

Training for aviators also was coordinated by 

Correspondence in June 1918 between Captain Alfred Cunningham, who headed the Marine aviation 

oce at Headquarters Marine Corps, and his replacement, First Lieutenant Harvey B. Mims, narrates 

the tale of how Shearer came to command a key Marine seaplane operational unit. Mims, Naval Aviator 

No. 576, did not know Shearer and was concerned about his qualications. Shearer requested a transfer 

to Miami for a training course, followed by assignment to foreign duty. All the Marine aviators in Pensacola and Miami, including Shearer, were aware the FMAF was preparing for deployment to France and 

wanted to get into the ght. 

Both Captain Roy Geiger, at FMAF, and Colonel Charles G. Long, in Major General Commandant 

George Barnett’s oce, informed Mims to make the transfer because the Navy was transitioning Pensacola into an advanced training site, and NAS Miami was becoming the primary seaplane training station. 

Long thought it “absolutely essential that we continue training in water machines in order that we may 

be able at any time, to coordinate and cooperate with the advanced base force, in case of their needing 

a water company at any time.”8

 Positioning the highly regarded Shearer—who was known for getting 

things done—at NAS Miami would earn current and future benets for the Marine Corps.

Shearer remained in the Marine Corps aer the war, integrating into the regular Marine Corps in September 1919. He died on 21 April 1937 while on active duty serving as the operations and training ocer 

at Headquarters Squadron, 1M, Aircra One, Fleet Marine Force, Marine Barracks Quantico, Virginia.9

8 Letters of 26 and 29 June 1918 from 1stLt Harvey B. Mims to Capt Alfred A. Cunningham, Alfred A. Cunningham Personal Papers, Marine 

Corps Archives and Special Collections, MCU, Quantico, VA.

9 Squadron A, Marine Aviation Force, MRoll, 1–30 September 1919, Roll 0179; and Headquarters Squadron 1M, Aircraft One, Fleet Marine 

Force, MB, Quantico, VA, MRoll, 1–30 April 1937, Roll 0401, Ancestry.com.

40 C. Douglas Sterner, “Navy Recipients of the Navy Cross,” Home of Heroes, http://www.homeofheroes.com/valor/02_awards/index_nx/indexNXp.html.

41 Sherrod, “Marine Corps Aviation,” 57.

42 FMAF, MRoll, June 1918, Roll 0141, Ancestry.com.

43 McClellan, United States Marine Corps in the World War, 76. 44 Alfred A. Cunningham Personal Papers, Marine Corps Archives and Special Collections, MCU, Quantico, VA.

45 FMAF, MRoll, June 1917.
Summer 2016 25

the Navy at the Massachusetts Institute of 

Technology (MIT), Boston, Massachusetts. 

Enlisted Marines selected as promising yers were appointed temporary gunnery sergeants and ordered to a 10-week ground 

training course at MIT. Aer ground school 

graduation, they did their actual ying at 

Marine Flying Field Miami and, upon qualifying, commissioned second lieutenants 

in the MCRFC. e rst class for enlisted 

Marines did not enter this program until 

10 July 1918, so it did not have a signicant 

impact on the number of qualied MCRFC 

pilots ghting in France.46

However, the MIT program did provide 

pilots for the FMAF in France. One of the 

USNRFC ocers who entered through the 

MIT program and later transferred to the 

MCRFC to serve with distinction in Europe 

was Ralph Talbot. In June 1917, Talbot le 

Yale University to join the DuPont Aviation School 

in Wilmington, Delaware. e war was on and he 

wanted to contribute. He enrolled as a seaman second class on 25 October 1917, completed the MIT 

ground training course, and was ordered to NAS 

Key West, Florida. ere he was commissioned an 

ensign in the USNRFC on 8 April 1918 and then 

later designated Naval Aviator No. 456. Talbot took 

advantage of the Navy’s willingness to let its pilots 

transfer to the MCRFC at Marine Flying Field Miami and was commissioned a second lieutenant on 

26 May 1918. In mid-July, Talbot deployed overseas 

with the FMAF and earned a unique place in Marine 

Corps history.47

Marine Corps Reserve Aviators

Deploy to the Azores

e Germans had operated submarines in the Atlantic Ocean during the early years of the war, wreaking 

havoc on shipping, and there was concern that they 

might try to establish an advance base in Portugal’s 

Azores archipelago. e British had been watching 

the area and the U.S. Navy had used Ponta Delgada, 

São Miguel Island, Azores, for ship repairs. e U.S. 

Navy collier, USS Orion (AC 11) was in Ponta Delgada undergoing repairs when, early on the morning of 4 July 1917, German submarine U-155 began 

shelling the town. Orion returned re, although 

her stern was out of the water, driving o the submarine.48 is helped make the decision to get Portuguese consent to establish a shore installation at 

Ponta Delgada.49

On 7 December 1917, the 1st Marine Aeronautic 

Company—with its experience ying sea patrols from 

Cape May—was selected to deploy to the Azores and 

establish shore installation (Naval Base 13) at Ponta 

Delgada, and the company began ying antisubmarine patrols. e company arrived with 10 Curtiss R-6, 

2 Curtiss N-9 seaplanes, and 6 Curtiss HS-L ying 

boats on 22 January 1918.50 Among the Marines arriving at Naval Base 13 in January were one MCRFC of-

cer, Second Lieutenant Boynton, two Marine Corps 

Reserve privates, and four NNV privates. 51

In the Azores, the Aeronautic Company Marines 

Official U.S. Marine Corps photo 529928

A 1st Marine Aeronautic Company, 1st Marine Aviation Force Curtiss R-6 seaplane undergoes repairs at Naval Base 13, Ponta Delgada, Azores, in the fall of 1918. Extra wing crates and repair tents 

are in the background. 

46 Johnson, Marine Corps Aviation, 20. 47 Arthur, Contact!, 148–49. 48 Josephus Daniels, Our Navy at War (New York: George H. Doran Co., 1922), 276–77. 49 LtCol C. H. Metcalf, USMC, “Flying Marines,” Leatherneck, May 1939, 14. 50 McClellan, United States Marine Corps in the World War, 71, provides details on the number and type of aircraft and indicates the unit arrived 

on 21 January; however, 1st Marine Aeronautic Company, MRoll, January 1918, Roll 0132, Ancestry.com, indicates arrival on 22 January 1918. 

51 First Marine Aeronautic Company, MRoll, January 1918.
26 MCH Vol. 2, No. 1

ew daily patrols out to a radius of 70 miles o the island, most oen monotonous with little, if any, contact.52 e Marines were ordered back to the United 

States on 24 January1919, arriving at Marine Flying Field Miami on 15 March 1919.53 e company 

strength for March (7 ocers and 60 enlisted men) 

included 2 Marine Corps Reserve ocers (Class 5 

and Class 1) and 3 Marine Corps Reserve enlisted.54

Also deployed to Naval Base 13 in January 1918 

was a Marine 7-inch naval gun unit, commanded 

by Captain Maurice G. Holmes.55 e unit, Foreign 

Expeditionary Detachment, Naval Base 13, and its 

51-Marine detachment included six members of the 

Marine Corps Reserve, Class 4.56 Holmes commanded the detachment through the Armistice, departing 

on 22 November 1918.57 e guns were later turned 

over to the Portuguese rather than transported back 

to the United States.58

Marine Reserve Aviators

in the War in Europe

Involvement of Marine Corps aviation in WWI 

came about through the initiatives of Cunningham, 

although it was supported by the Major General 

Commandant, other ocers at Headquarters Marine 

Corps, and U.S. Navy leadership. e German submarine menace had to be curtailed; and bombing of 

Art Collection, National Museum of the Marine Corps

Bombing Mission in DeHavilland 9’S by John T. McCoy. Watercolor on paper. 

52 Johnson, Marine Corps Aviation, 13. 53 McClellan, United States Marine Corps in the World War, 71. 54 First Marine Aeronautic Company, MRoll, March 1919, Roll 0165, Ancestry.com.

55 Clark, “First Marine Aviation Force, 1917–18,” 60–61.

56 Foreign Expeditionary Detachment, Naval Base 13, MRoll, January 1918, Roll 0132, Ancestry.com.

57 Foreign Expeditionary Detachment, Naval Base 13, MRoll, November 1918, Roll 0154, Ancestry.com.

58 Clark, “First Marine Aviation Force, 1917–18,” 61.
Summer 2016 27

the Belgian submarine shelters (or pens) in Zeebrugge, Ostend, and Bruges was a mission taken on by 

the U.S. Navy. e Navy dispatched a limited force to 

France in June 1917 to initiate the bombing but did 

not have enough air assets. Cunningham, during a 

visit to the front in late 1917, saw an opportunity for 

Marine aviation to get into the action by assisting the 

Navy. Cunningham asked for and received a Marine 

force of a headquarters and four squadrons in early 

1918 and now, with the United States about a year 

into the war, Marine aviation had a combat assignment.59 e Marine Corps needed pilots to support 

the Navy’s mission, so the Navy permitted its pilots 

to transfer to the MCRFC in May and June 1918.

e FMAF—with its headquarters and Squadrons 

A, B, and C that arrived in Brest, France, on board 

the USS De Kalb (ID 3010) on 30 July 1918 to join 

the Day Wing, Northern Bombing Group—demonstrated the signicance of the almost two-year-old 

Marine Corps Reserve.60 e FMAF included 272 

members of the Marine Corps Reserve and six NNV 

out of a total of 787 men—35.3 percent were Marine 

Corps Reserve and NNV. e representation of the 

Marine Corps Reserve was dramatic among the of-

cers: 12 of the 17 rst lieutenants, or 71 percent; 71 

of 77 second lieutenants, or 92 percent; and 11 of 11 

Marine gunners, 100 percent.61

With Cunningham commanding FMAF, the ying squadrons were commanded by Captain Geiger, 

Squadron A; Captain McIlvain, Squadron B; and 

Captain Douglas B. Roben, Squadron C.62 ese 

squadron commanders, plus the future commander 

of Squadron D, First Lieutenant Russell A. Presley, 

arrived in France as an advance party, coordinating 

with the Navy’s Northern Bombing Group, around 

mid-June 1918.63 Squadron D did not join the Day 

Wing until aer landing in France on 5 October 

1918. is squadron added 222 Marines and Navy 

men to the Day Wing, of which 102 were Marine 

Corps Reserves—34 of 39 ocers were reservists.64

When the FMAF became the Marine Day Wing of 

the U.S. Navy Northern Bombing Group, the four 

Marine squadrons were redesignated the 7th, 8th, 

9th, and 10th Squadrons, respectively.65

With a shortage of aircra, Cunningham turned 

to the British Royal Air Force (RAF), with its numerous available aircra and lack of fully trained pilots, 

for his FMAF pilots to gain ight time. Marine pilots and observers were assigned to RAF Squadrons 

217 and 218 to y combat missions over the German 

lines.66 One of these pilots, MCRFC Second Lieutenant Chapin C. Barr, ying with Squadron 218, died 

Official U.S. Marine Corps photo 530634

The first Marine aircraft destroyed in air battle in WWI 

also resulted in the pilot, 2dLt Harvey C. Norman, 

MCRFC, and observer, 2dLt Caleb B. Taylor, MCRFC, 

above, Squadron C, FMAF, being killed in action. Their 

aircraft was attacked by seven enemy aircraft on 22 

October 1918 over the Bruges-Ghent Canal, Belgium. 

59 Sherrod, “Marine Corps Aviation,” 58–59.

60 McClellan, United States Marine Corps in the World War, 34. 61 FMAF MRoll, July 1918, Roll 0145, Ancestry.com.

62 Sherrod, “Marine Corps Aviation,” 59.

63 Johnson, Marine Corps Aviation, 19. 64 Squadron D, MRoll, October 1918, Roll 0153, Ancestry.com.

65 MSgt Roger M. Emmons, USMC (Ret), “Marine Combat Squadrons in World War I,” Marine Corps Gazette 62, no. 11 (November 1978): 79. 66 Johnson, Marine Corps Aviation, 21.
28 MCH Vol. 2, No. 1

on 29 September 1918 of wounds received in a combat raid over enemy territory.67 Barr was awarded 

the Navy Cross for his actions in combat and was 

the rst Marine aviator to die as a result of enemy 

action.68 Also, while ying with Squadron 218, Marine pilots participated in the rst aerial resupply 

on 2 and 3 October when food was dropped to a 

surrounded French unit.69 One of the three Marine 

pilots participating in that food drop was MCRFC 

Second Lieutenant Frank Nelms Jr., who earned a 

Navy Distinguished Service Medal for his actions.70

e rst all-Marine air combat operation was a 

raid carried out on the morning of 14 October by 

Squadron C (9th) from La Fresne ying eld. e 

Marines attacked the German-held railway junction 

and yards at ielt, Belgium, with a composite ight 

of ve DH-4s and three DH-9As, led by Captain 

Robert S. Lytle.71 In those eight squadron aircrews, 

ve pilots were Marine Corps reservists and one, Ensign Elmer B. Taylor, was a member of the USNRFC 

assigned to the squadron. ree of the eight observers/gunners in the aircra rear seats were Marine 

Corps reservists.72

On the return ight, the Marine aircra were inArt Collection, National Museum of the Marine Corps

Raid on Thielt by James Butcher. The first all-Marine aviation raid was on Thielt, Belgium, on 14 October 1918 by 

9th Squadron, 1st Marine Aviation Force. 2dLt Ralph Talbot, MCRFC, and Cpl Robert G. Robinson were awarded 

the Medal of Honor for their heroic actions in the raid. 

67 Squadron B, MRoll, September 1918, Roll 0150, Ancestry.com.

68 Arthur, Contact!, 236; and James R. Nilo, “Marines Aloft in World War I,” Leatherneck, July 1998, 34. 69 Johnson, Marine Corps Aviation, 21. 70 Arthur, Contact!, 229; and, Marine Corps Heroes, vol. I, 1861–1942, compiled by C. Douglas Sterner. Copies held by HIRB, MCHD, Quantico, 

VA, and the author courtesy of Mr. Sterner.

71 Clark, “First Marine Aviation Force, 1917–18,” 58.

72 George B. Clark, in ibid., named the pilots and observers; and Squadron C, MRoll, October 1918, and Squadron A MRoll, October 1918, Roll 

0153, Ancestry.com, confirmed the mission assignment and Reserve status. 
Summer 2016 29

tercepted by enemy aircra; and a group of German 

Fokker ghter planes attacked Second Lieutenant 

Talbot and his observer, Corporal Robert G. Robinson, whose aircra had separated from the ight due 

to engine trouble. Robinson, ring the rear-mounted machine gun, shot down one of the attacking 

aircra, but in another onslaught, his le elbow was 

shattered. He continued ring until again wounded, 

this time in the abdomen and thigh, when he collapsed. Talbot attacked the Fokker with his front 

guns, shooting down one additional aircra then 

with continuing engine problems, he dropped low, 

crossed the German lines, and landed at a Belgian 

aireld to obtain aid for Robinson.73 Aer dropping 

o Robinson, Talbot again lied into the air, despite 

engine issues, returning to La Fresne ying eld.74

Both Talbot and Robinson were awarded the 

Medal of Honor for “extraordinary heroism” for 

earlier operations and this raid, thus, earning the 

rst two Medals of Honor awarded to members of 

Marine Corps aviation units, although Talbot’s was 

presented posthumously.75 Talbot was killed on 25 

October 1918 when he crashed into a bomb dump 

at La Fresne during a maintenance test ight. He did 

not make it into the air, ripping o his landing gear as 

he tried to pass over the bomb dump embankment. 

He died in his burning aircra.76 First Sergeant John 

K. McGraw, Fleet Marine Corps Reserve, Class B, 

earned the Navy Cross that day for “extraordinary 

heroism,” when he prevented a massive explosion 

of the bomb dump.77 When Talbot crashed, McGraw led the nearest men in moving burning bomb 

crates, rolling the bombs in mud, and extinguishing 

the re.78 Talbot’s observer/gunner, Reserve Second 

Lieutenant Colgate W. Darden Jr., Class 5, ying in 

the rear seat was thrown clear of the aircra and survived the accident. Darden later became a member 

of the General Assembly of the Commonwealth of 

Virginia, member of the U.S. House of Representatives from Virginia, governor of Virginia, and president of the University of Virginia.79

In addition to the Marine aviators of FMAF in 

France, six Marine ocers were detached and assigned to the Army Air Service, American Expeditionary Forces.80 At least one of the six, Second 

Lieutenant Marcus A. Jordan, was a member of the 

Marine Corps Reserve.81 Another enrollee in the 

MCRFC in 1917 already had combat experience in 

France. Russell F. Stearns had been a pilot, with the 

rank of corporal, in the Lafayette Flying Corps prior 

to America entering the war. Stearns had gone to 

Ralph Talbot Personal Papers, Marine Corps Archives and Special 

Collections, Marine Corps University

2dLt Ralph Talbot entered the USMCR via the Naval Reserve Force, with ground training at MIT. 

73 Clark, “First Marine Aviation Force, 1917–18,” 59.

74 Emmons, “Marine Combat Squadrons in World War I,” 81.

75 R. J. (Bob) Proft, ed., United States of America’s Congressional Medal of Honor Recipients and the Official Citations, 2d ed. (Columbia Heights, 

MN: Highland House II, 1998), 584, 589. 

76 Roger M. Emmons, “Giants of the Corps: Ralph Talbot,” Marine Corps Gazette 61, no. 5 (May 1978): 31. 77 Squadron C, FMAF, MRoll, October 1918.

78 Douglas Sterner, ed., Marine Corps Heroes: vol. 2, Navy Cross 1915-WWII (Scotts Valley, CA: CreateSpace, 2015), 62. 79 1st Squadron, FMAF, MRoll, October 1918, Roll 0153, Ancestry.com; “Former Marines Now in Congress,” Marine Corps Gazette 19, no. 1 (February 1935): 14; and Sherrod, “Marine Corps Aviation,” 61.

80 McClellan, United States Marine Corps in the World War, 75. 81 The 7th Company, 5th Regiment, MRoll, March 1918.
30 MCH Vol. 2, No. 1

France to serve in the American Ambulance Field 

Service in 1916, then enlisted in the Lafayette Flying Corps on 12 April 1917. He qualied as a pilot 

and was assigned to Escadrille Spad 150, piloting the 

French Spad biplane in combat during 27 December 

1917–24 February 1918. He returned to the states on 

leave in February and, while home, applied for a discharge from the Lafayette Flying Corps and joined 

the Marine Corps Reserve. Unfortunately, general 

health issues followed him from France, and he did 

not qualify as a naval aviator and was disenrolled 

from the MCRFC on 30 July 1918.82

Examining the Marine Corps muster rolls of the 

FMAF, Naval Air Forces, France, American Expeditionary Forces, at the time of the Armistice in November 1918, reveals that 111 of 132 ocers, or 84.1 

percent were Marine Corps reservists; 15 of 15, or 

100 percent of the warrant ocers were reservists; 

and 228 of 783, or 29.2 percent of the enlisted men 

were Marine Corps reservists.83

e Day Wing, Northern Bombing Group, received orders to return to the United States and embarked at Saint-Nazaire, France, on 16 December 

1918, arriving at Newport News, Virginia, ve days 

later.84 Delivering supplies and the bombing raids by 

these early Marine aviators became routine missions 

in later wars and insurgencies. In its short time in 

existence, the MCRFC made its mark and helped 

ensure Marine Corps aviation continued to ourish. 

s1775s

82 James Norman Hall and Charles Bernard Nordhoff, ed., The Lafayette Flying Corps, vol. 1 (Boston, MA: Riverside Press Cambridge, 1920), 442; 

and 4th Squadron, FMAF, MRoll, July 1918, Roll 0143, Ancestry.com.

83 General Recapitulation, Marine Corps, MRoll, November 1918, Roll 0156, Ancestry.com.

84 McClellan, United States Marine Corps in the World War, 75.

Ralph Talbot, Personal Papers, Marine Corps Archives and Special Collections, Marine Corps University

The port of Saint-Nazaire, France, December 1918. 
Rebellion, Repression,

and Reform

U.S. MARINES IN THE DOMINICAN REPUBLIC

Breanne Robertson, PhD 

I

n the contest for American votes, a candidate’s 

bluster on the campaign trail can have unintended, yet far-reaching consequences. Franklin D. Roosevelt learned this lesson the hard 

way during the 1920 presidential campaign, when 

his remarks about the “little republics” of Central 

America and the Caribbean raised public furor over 

the U.S. intervention and Marine Corps misconduct 

in Santo Domingo (now Dominican Republic) and 

Haiti. Touting his experience as assistant secretary 

of the Navy, the Democratic vice presidential nominee boasted before a group of Montana voters: “You 

know I have had something to do with the running of 

a couple of little republics. e facts are that I wrote 

Haiti’s Constitution myself, and, if I do say it, I think 

it’s a pretty good Constitution.”1

 Roosevelt further 

fanned the ames of opposition when he insinuated 

that President Woodrow Wilson’s administration 

could compel several Latin American republics to 

support U.S. initiatives in the newly formed League 

of Nations. “We are in the very true sense the big 

brother of these little republics,” he explained. “Does 

anyone suppose that the vote of Cuba, Haiti, San 

Domingo [sic], Nicaragua and of the other Central 

American states would be cast dierently from the 

vote of the United States?”2

Popular outcry was both swi and strong. Roosevelt’s comments elicited caustic responses from both 

liberal advocates for national self-determination and 

conservative opponents of Wilsonian internationalism. Senator Warren G. Harding, the Republican 

nominee for president, capitalized on the growing 

furor by staking his own foreign policy in Dominican soil. Speaking before an Indiana delegation of 

voters in late August 1920, Harding condemned current U.S. military actions in the Caribbean as “unwarranted interference” that had not only “made 

enemies of those who should be our friends, but 

have rightfully discredited our country as a trusted 

neighbor.” If elected president, he promised “not [to] 

empower an assistant secretary of the navy to dra 

a constitution for helpless neighbors in the West 

Indies and jam it down their throats at the point of 

bayonets borne by the United States marines.”3

In denouncing the Wilson administration’s Caribbean policy and the activities of Roosevelt, in particular, Harding eectively pledged to bring an end to 

the military occupation in the Dominican Republic.4

It would take nearly four years to fulll this promise. Harding’s victory in the general election signaled 

the nal phase of the American intervention, which 

involved intense public scrutiny, dicult treaty ne1 Although Roosevelt’s reputation in U.S.-Latin American affairs today rests largely with the Good Neighbor Policy, a foreign policy initiative that 

pledged nonintervention and equitable trade agreements in the 1930s and 1940s, the future president did not always espouse such progressive thinking with regard to hemispheric relations. According to biographer Frank Freidel, Roosevelt had nothing to do with the drafting of the 

Haitian Constitution. See Graham Cross, The Diplomatic Education of Franklin D. Roosevelt, 1882–1933 (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2012), 

104; and Frank Freidel, Franklin D. Roosevelt: The Apprenticeship (Boston, MA: Little, Brown and Co., 1952). 2 Franklin D. Roosevelt, campaign speech dated 18 August 1920, quoted in Cross, The Diplomatic Education of Franklin D. Roosevelt, 104. 3 Warren G. Harding, “A Speech by Senator Warren G. Harding to Delegation of Indiana Citizens, Marion, Ohio, 28 August 1920,” in Speeches of 

Senator Warren G. Harding of Ohio, Republican Candidate for President (New York: Republican National Committee, 1920), 91. 4 Contemporary audiences understood that the assistant secretary of the Navy referred to in Harding’s speech was Franklin D. Roosevelt, the 

Democratic vice presidential nominee.

31
32 MCH Vol. 2, No. 1

gotiations, and sweeping internal reforms. In view 

of this contentious resolution, the original rationale 

and aims of the U.S. intervention remain essential 

to understanding how the military occupation in 

the Dominican Republic evolved from a celebrated 

campaign, demonstrating the tactical eciency of 

the U.S. Marine Corps and producing three Medal 

of Honor recipients, to a misguided counterinsurgency operation and military regime embodying 

imperialist overreach in U.S. foreign aairs. To be 

sure, the 1920 presidential election reected a pronounced shi in American public opinion since the 

rst Marines landed in the Dominican Republic four 

years earlier. e campaign also demonstrated shi-

ing political terrain—both internationally and locally within the Dominican Republic—that gave rise 

to increasingly harsh Marine Corps enforcement of 

U.S. authority against nationalist resistance. Tracking the diplomatic motivation, military invasion, and 

counterinsurgency eorts of Marines in the Dominican Republic elucidates the changing circumstances 

that not only shaped public perception of the Marine 

Corps throughout the occupation but also compelled 

reform measures in both training and operations to 

facilitate a peaceful and eective withdrawal.

Protecting “America’s Lake”

In the years leading up to World War I, the nancial insolvency and political disorder in Central 

America and the Caribbean appeared dangerous to 

U.S. national security. Although the United States 

had been active in Caribbean aairs throughout the 

nineteenth century, the emergence of navalism, a 

policy which emphasized territorial and naval expansion as being indispensable to national defense, 

spurred U.S. ocials to direct substantial attention 

and resources to the region in the rst decades of the 

twentieth century.5

 As naval historian Alfred ayer 

Mahan argued in his seminal book e Inuence of 

Sea Power upon History: 1660–1783 (1890), success 

in naval warfare required a large eet of warships 

ready for rapid deployment in ghting decisive battles. e completion of the Panama Canal in 1914 

endowed the U.S. Navy with a strategic advantage 

over other naval eets, since the United States could 

quickly transfer ships between the Pacic and Atlantic Oceans and between the West and East Coasts. 

e desire to protect the isthmian canal, as well as 

the sea-lanes around it, renewed U.S. interest in 

the Monroe Doctrine and occasioned frequent and 

more intensive military interventions in the name of 

national defense.

e Venezuelan Claims Crisis of 1902–3 distilled 

American fears about European intervention in the 

Western Hemisphere. Over the previous century, European investors had made substantial loans to various Latin American republics. Although the national 

governments receiving these loans were notoriously 

unstable and oen borrowed funds for the explicit 

purpose of defeating revolution, common practice 

dictated that each regime must honor the debts of its 

predecessors. Venezuelan President Cipriano Castro, however, refused to make payments following a 

civil war. In retaliation, Germany, Great Britain, and 

Italy initiated a punitive blockade at Caracas, shelled 

a coastal fort, and threatened seizure of Venezuelan 

customs houses. Alarmed by European aggression 

near the Canal Zone, President eodore Roosevelt 

sent about 50 ships—a large portion of the U.S. Navy 

at that time—to perform “training maneuvers” in 

the southern Caribbean. is transparent show of 

strength reinforced U.S. demands that the dispute be 

settled through international arbitration. Although 

e Hague would later rule in favor of the European 

powers, Roosevelt made clear U.S. intolerance for 

foreign interference in the American republics.6

e threat of a similar crisis in the Dominican Republic prompted Roosevelt to formalize U.S. foreign 

policy in hemispheric aairs.7

 On 6 December 1904, 

the president unveiled a policy that has since become 

5 The U.S government had long expressed interest in the Dominican Republic. President Ulysses S. Grant entertained the prospect of annexing the island nation, but the U.S. Senate defeated the measure in 1871. Subsequent American victory in the Spanish-American War (1898) 

furnished the United States with territorial possession of Puerto Rico and Cuba, but the U.S. Navy expressed a keen interest in acquiring naval 

bases in Hispaniola as well.

6 Maj Bruce Gudmundsson, USMCR (Ret), “The First of the Banana Wars: U.S. Marines in Nicaragua 1909–12,” in Counterinsurgency in Modern 

Warfare, ed. Daniel Marston and Carter Malkasian (Oxford, UK: Osprey Publishing, 2008), 60. 7 In 1903, the new Dominican government under Gen Carlos F. Morales stopped paying its foreign debt with the aim of negotiating more favorable terms.
Summer 2016 33

known as the “Roosevelt Corollary to the Monroe 

Doctrine.” Arguing that European eorts to enforce 

Latin American debt repayment necessarily violated 

the Monroe Doctrine, he announced that the United 

States would need to ensure the political and nancial stability of its sister republics. e president and 

other American policy makers believed Latin Americans were incapable of preserving law and order 

and that the United States, a more “civilized” power, 

must impose nancial oversight to guarantee timely 

remittance and to protect foreign lives and property.8

With transatlantic tensions hanging in the balance, the Dominican Republic served as a testing 

ground for the rst practical application of the Roosevelt Corollary. As Roosevelt brashly proclaimed, “I 

have about the same desire to annex it as a gorged 

boa constrictor might have to swallow a porcupine 

wrong-end-to.”9

 Nevertheless, the perceived critical 

importance of the island to American national security necessitated U.S. involvement to preserve order 

and reduce foreign debts, both objectives deemed 

essential in preventing European military presence 

in the region. In 1905, the U.S. State Department 

worked out a series of agreements that placed the Dominican customs service under American management. Although the U.S. Senate would delay ratifying 

the treaty until 1907, Roosevelt implemented the customs receivership immediately by executive at.10

e initial results of the U.S.-imposed customs receivership in the Dominican Republic were encouraging. Financial experts arranged for new loans with 

American lenders for debt consolidation and a lower 

interest rate, and U.S. ocials took charge of customs revenues, collecting duties at Dominican ports 

and dividing the proceeds between foreign bondholders and the incumbent regime. Furthermore, 

the popularity and stability of the new Dominican 

president, Ramón Cáceres, permitted the administration to direct attention toward modernization 

and economic development in the country, which 

State Department ocials attributed to the bene-

cial inuence of U.S. oversight. Consequently, the 

Dominican customs receivership served as the cornerstone of President William H. Ta’s foreign relations policy. Known popularly as “dollar diplomacy,” 

Ta emphasized economic inuence as a paramount 

consideration in diplomatic aairs and pledged to 

use bankers rather than battleships to inuence international stability.11 Nevertheless, when such efforts failed to secure desired results, both Ta and 

his successor, President Woodrow Wilson, resorted 

to threats of military force, or as historian Max Boot 

has described it, “the brass knuckles hidden beneath 

the velvet glove.”12

Disorder and Diplomacy,

1911–16

e assassination of President Cáceres in November 1911 shattered the relative peace and economic 

prosperity of the Dominican Republic and ushered 

in a new era of transitory regimes and revolutionary violence. e near-constant disorder reected 

a longstanding political feud between horacistas, 

followers of General Horacio Vásquez, and jimenistas, partisans of Juan Isidro Jiménez, as well as the 

growing strength of such regional leaders as General 

Desiderio Arias of Santiago. Without a dependable 

army or police force to buttress the central government, Dominican presidents remained chronically 

vulnerable to coups and civil wars.

Between 1911 and 1916, U.S. ocials intervened 

in Dominican aairs with increasing frequency to 

compel reform measures that would ostensibly establish a stable, freely elected, and pro-American 

government. Employing both diplomatic pressure 

and military might, the United States regularly sent 

warships to observe or make shows of force against 

the Dominican government, to threaten revolutionaries, or to protect the lives and property of Ameri8 Theodore Roosevelt, “The Roosevelt Corollary to the Monroe Doctrine,” in Robert H. Holden and Eric Zolovs, ed., Latin America and the United 

States: A Documentary History (Cary, NY: Oxford University Press, 2000), 100–2. 9 Theodore Roosevelt, “The Dominican Republic Challenge,” in Holden and Zolovs, Latin America and the United States, 103–4. 10 Max Boot, The Savage Wars of Peace: Small Wars and the Rise of American Power (New York: Basic Books, 2003), 137. Following ratification of 

the agreement by the U.S. Senate, President Roosevelt issued a proclamation enacting the Convention between the United States of America 

and the Dominican Republic Providing for the Assistance of the United States in the Collection and Application of the Customs Revenues of the 

Dominican Republic on 25 July 1907.

11 Emily S. Rosenberg, “The Invisible Protectorate: The United States, Liberia, and the Evolution of Neocolonialism, 1909–40,” Diplomatic History

9, no. 3 (July 1985): 193.

12 Boot, The Savage Wars of Peace, 129.
34 MCH Vol. 2, No. 1

can citizens. Despite such heavy-handed tactics on 

the part of the United States, domestic political turmoil persisted in the Dominican Republic, resulting 

in eight separate administrations in Santo Domingo 

in less than ve years. Rebellion ourished especially in the interior valleys, north coast, and rugged frontiers where local dictators, or caudillos, 

held sway. e warring political factions quickly 

exhausted the national treasury, and the country assumed additional debt trying to suppress rebellion, 

circumstances the United States considered in direct 

violation of its 1907 treaty with the republic. Moreover, this relapse into political volatility and nancial 

insolvency inamed U.S. fears of European intervention. German designs on the Americas, in particular, 

seemed to pose a very real threat. e German Navy, 

under the command of Admiral Alfred von Tirpitz, 

schemed to acquire land and establish military bases 

in the Caribbean, Central America, and Mexico in 

an eort to disrupt American use of the Panama Canal and potentially stage a direct strike against the 

United States. Furthermore, German inuence and 

manipulation of revolutionary unrest, especially in 

Mexico, aimed to divert U.S. attention and resources 

in a protracted and costly conict far from Europe.13

ese eorts culminated in the infamous Zimmerman Telegram, which outlined a plot to produce 

a German-Mexican-Japanese alliance and helped 

draw the United States into World War I. 

e State Department, which had become increasingly hostile in its interactions with the Dominican 

government, began to consider seriously the possibility of full-scale military intervention and the imposition of U.S. demands—a solution it had already 

implemented in Haiti starting in the summer of 1915. 

In November, William W. Russell, the newly appointed American minister and longtime advocate of 

intervention, arrived in Santo Domingo with an ultimatum. Under the terms of this agreement, the Dominican Republic would be obligated to accept the 

appointment of U.S. nancial advisers and the formation of U.S.-controlled constabularies. e current 

president, Juan Isidro Jiménez, refused the proposed 

treaty, which would have severely curtailed Dominican sovereignty. Even so, his political enemies pointed to American overtures to damage his prestige and 

bolster support for their revolutionary eorts.

Civil war again erupted in the Dominican Republic following a misguided attempt by Jiménez to 

disenfranchise his political rivals. In April 1916, the 

president ordered the arrest of several insubordinate 

ocers, chief among them his minister of war, General Desiderio Arias. Tall, thin, and of mixed-race 

heritage, Arias was a powerful, charismatic caudillo 

with a large following in the northwestern province 

of Monte Cristi near the Haitian border. He represented the most infertile and impoverished region 

in the country but, unlike other caudillos, banned 

his troops from stealing food from the poor. Rising from humble origins himself, Arias attracted a 

devoted following among darker-skinned peasants, 

soldiers, and the urban poor. By early May, the popular and politically inuential leader had persuaded 

the Dominican congress to begin impeachment proceedings against Jiménez. Arias then seized control 

of the capital and declared open revolt. With this 

action, the United States sent Marines to Santo Domingo to protect the American legation and to assist 

the Jiménez regime.

Armed Intervention

On 2 May 1916, two warships carrying a small force 

of Marines arrived in the Dominican Republic.14 In 

the eyes of Washington politicians, Arias had raised a 

rebellion against a properly elected president. In addition, U.S. policy makers viewed Arias as being proGerman and a conduit of arms to Haitian cacos, or 

guerrilla ghters, then resisting American military 

rule on the other side of the island.15 Humanitarian 

paternalism and racism further informed the State 

13 For more on Germany’s “secret war” in the Americas, see Michael C. Desch, When the Third World Matters: Latin America and United States 

Grand Strategy (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1993); Friedrich E. Schuler, Secret Wars and Secret Policies in the Americas, 1842–

1929 (Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 2010); and David Healy, Drive to Hegemony: The United States in the Caribbean, 1898–

1917 (Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1988), 72–76. 14 The USS Castine (PG 6) brought 300 Marines and 130 sailors to Santo Domingo to guard the American legation. The USS Prairie (AD 5)

transported approximately 150 Marines; the 6th Company, commanded by Capt Frederic M. Wise, was an infantry unit, and the 9th Company, 

under the command of Capt Eugene P. Fortson, was a field artillery unit with four 3-inch guns. Wise had overall command of the force, which 

was designated a provisional battalion.

15 Boot, The Savage Wars of Peace, 168. During October and November 1915, Marines engaged in considerable fighting with cacos in northern 

Haiti, where insurgents were thought to be receiving arms from Arias, then-minister of war, at Santo Domingo.
Summer 2016 35

Department’s decision to intervene militarily in the 

Dominican Republic. Ill-informed on political and 

social conditions in the republic, American ocials 

incorrectly attributed the endemic violence and debt 

to corrupt local leadership.16 e State Department 

thus aimed to stabilize events in the Dominican Republic by preserving the incumbent administration 

against attempts to usurp power by force.

e United States concluded that Jiménez could 

not dislodge Arias from the capital without American assistance. e rebel leader had marshaled hundreds of civilian irregulars, armed with ries from 

government arsenals and around 250 Dominican 

soldiers who had defected to his side. Captain Frederic M. Wise, who commanded the provisional battalion of Marines in Santo Domingo, described the 

situation, “every male in town even boys were armed 

easily making over a thousand ries, with ve (5) 

gatlings, unlimited ammunition . . . plenty of [artillery]” and “gunners who knew how to use it.”17 Jiménez’s small army, by contrast, numbered around 

800 soldiers and had very little ammunition, fewer 

than 20 rounds per person. Minister Russell pressured Jiménez to request a landing of U.S. Marines. 

Exiled from the capital, the president rst accepted 

but later rejected American assistance, explaining 

that his authority would diminish if “regained with 

foreign bullets.”18 As an alternative to U.S. armed intervention, Jiménez asked Russell and Wise to meet 

with Arias and negotiate a peaceful surrender. e 

Americans agreed on the condition that, if Arias 

refused, Jiménez would consent to a combined assault with Dominican and U.S. forces to regain the 

capital. 

Arias and his followers rejected the deposed president’s détente. Wise returned to camp and began 

making preparations to disarm the rebels by force, 

but Jiménez balked at the attack. “I can never consent 

to attacking my own people,” he declared.19 Wise, incensed by this response, told the Dominican president that American prestige was on the line and that 

if he did not want U.S. military aid he should resign 

his oce. Aer some vacillation, Jiménez agreed. A 

secretary drew up the paperwork, and the president 

resigned on the spot. 

Now in the position of trying to uphold an administration that had ceased to exist, the United States 

was nevertheless determined to quash the revolution and reinstate a constitutional government. On 

13 May, Rear Admiral William B. Caperton, commander of the U.S. Navy’s Cruiser Squadron, Atlantic Fleet, issued an ultimatum signed by himself and 

Russell demanding that Arias disband the rebel army 

by 0600 on 15 May or face a full-scale American attack. As the U.S. ocers awaited an answer, Arias 

deantly hoisted Dominican ags rather than white 

ags as anticipated for surrender. Captain Wise and 

Major Newt H. Hall, commander of the 4th and 5th 

Companies recently arrived from Haiti and a detachment of the 24th Company from Guantánamo Bay, 

made plans for the forcible disarmament of the revolutionaries, while U.S. warships proceeded to San 

Pedro de Macorís, Sánchez, Puerto Plata, and other 

important Dominican ports.20 On the appointed 

date, the Marines marched on the rebel-held capital 

city. Anticipating armed resistance on every block, 

they instead discovered that Arias had evaded military confrontation by evacuating his troops under 

the cover of night.

e Marine Corps took control of Santo Domingo and made the city its base of operations ashore.21

Outside the capital, authority remained in the hands 

16 Referring to all of Latin America, President Wilson once confided to a visiting British statesman: “I am going to teach the South American republics to elect good men!” See Burton J. Hendrick, Life and Letters of Walter H. Page (Garden City, NY: Doubleday, Page and Co., 1922), I: 204. 17 Frederic M. Wise to George Barnett, 24 May 1916, Dominican Republic Subject Files, Historical Inquiries and Reference Branch (HIRB), Marine 

Corps History Division (MCHD), Quantico, VA; and Frederic M. Wise and Meigs O. Frost, A Marine Tells It to You (New York: J. H. Sears & Company, Inc., 1929), 141.

18 Max Henriquez Ureña, Los Yanquis en Santo Domingo: La Verdad de los Hechos Comprobada por Datos y Documentos Oficiales (Madrid: M. 

Aguilar, 1931), 87–88.

19 Wise and Frost, A Marine Tells It to You, 143. 20 Keith B. Bickle, Mars Learning: The Marine Corps’ Development of Small Wars Doctrine, 1915–1940 (Boulder, CO: Westview Press, 2002), 108. 

On 12 May, the USS Dolphin (PG 24) and the USS Culgoa (AF 3) arrived with RAdm Caperton, Maj Newt Hall, and the 4th and 5th Companies on 

board. The USS Hector (AR 7) brought the 24th Company to the Dominican Republic the following day. 21 Col Theodore P. Kane arrived in Santo Domingo on board the USS Panther (1889) with the headquarters of the 2d Regiment and three infantry 

companies on 23 May. He took command of all Marines on shore in the Dominican Republic and set up a temporary headquarters in the U.S. 

consulate building. The USS Sacramento (PG 19) awaited orders off shore near Puerto Plata while the Panther and USS Lamson (DD 18) patrolled 

the waters near Monte Cristi. By the end of the month, Marine strength in the country totaled 11 companies, drawn mostly from the 1st and 2d 

Regiments.
36 MCH Vol. 2, No. 1

of local governors and military chieains who operated independently of the central government. In 

addition, Arias claimed to still hold the legitimate 

power of congress. Having reestablished headquarters at Santiago, he refuted the partisan revolutionary title assigned to him by Jiménez and the United 

States. His ag belonged to the Dominican people, 

he proclaimed.22 Russell refused to recognize Arias 

as the rightful executive chief and instead elevated 

Jiménez’s remaining four cabinet members to the 

status of an interim “Council of Ministers” to carry 

on the business of state. Worried that Arias or one 

of his followers would be elected to the presidency 

if the Dominican congress were allowed a vote, Russell worked closely with Caperton to block congressional action while seeking a suitable alternative.23

While this strategy had worked in Haiti, Dominican 

politicians refused to give advance assurances of 

U.S. cooperation. “I have never seen such hatred displayed by one people for another as I notice and feel 

here,” Caperton confessed. “We positively have not 

a friend in the land.”24 Encountering near-universal 

hostility to U.S. governance, the commander feared 

a national uprising and called for reinforcements to 

secure the country’s main coastal towns and disperse 

Arias’s army in the Cibao Valley.25

Dominican Republic Papers, HIRB, MCHD

Map of Dominican Republic, November 1916.

22 Bruce J. Calder, The Impact of Intervention: The Dominican Republic during the U.S. Occupation of 1916–1924 (Austin: University of Texas 

Press, 1984), 8.

23 Healy, Drive to Hegemony, 196–97. 24 William S. Caperton to William S. Benson, 15 June 1916, William S. Caperton Papers, Library of Congress, Washington, DC.

25 On 4 June, RAdm Caperton requested the U.S. Navy to send more Marines, and MajGen Commandant George Barnett ordered the entire 4th 

Regiment to proceed from San Diego, CA, to the Dominican Republic. The USS Hancock (AP 3) delivered the 4th Regiment to Monte Cristi on 

21 June. With 828 men, this was the largest reinforcement to date.
Summer 2016 37

e March on Santiago

Arias had retreated 85 miles inland to Santiago de 

los Caballeros (Santiago), located in the northern 

agricultural valley of Cibao, where the distance to 

the sea precluded bombardment by a man-of-war 

or amphibious landing force.26 RAdm Caperton ordered Colonel Joseph H. Pendleton, the commanding ocer of the 4th Regiment aectionately known 

as “Uncle Joe,” to proceed against Arias’s stronghold 

in the northern interior. Pendleton devised a plan in 

which two columns of Marines would converge on 

Santiago from ports on the northern coast, since the 

country contained no roads that could accommodate large attack forces moving from the south. One 

column, commanded by Captain Eugene P. Fortson 

and subsequently Major Hiram I. Bearss, would follow a railroad inland from Puerto Plata, while the 

other, led by Pendleton, would march by road from 

Monte Cristi. e two forces would convene in Navarette, a village located 18 miles south of Santiago, 

for a full-scale drive on the objective. 

Before the operation began, Pendleton dened the 

Marines’ mission in the Dominican Republic and established guidelines for appropriate troop conduct. 

“[O]ur work in this country is not one of invasion,” 

he announced to his men. Clarifying that their aim 

was to restore order, protect life and property, and 

support the constitutional government, he exhorted 

his fellow ocers and enlisted men to “realize that 

we are not in an enemy’s country, though many of 

the inhabitants may be inimical to us.” Pendleton instructed his audience to treat the Dominican people 

with courtesy and dignity so as “to inspire condence 

among the people in the honesty of our intentions” 

and to avoid generating antagonism and perceptions 

of an armed invasion.27

In the early morning hours of 26 June 1916, Pendleton’s column embarked on its 75-mile journey inland. e Monte Cristi force, consisting of the 4th 

Regiment and some artillery, had a greater distance 

to travel and would operate as a “ying column” 

without communications or supplies once it passed 

the midpoint of its assigned route. Consequently, a 

two-mile-long supply train of trucks, automobiles, 

mule carts, pack mules, and a caterpillar tractor followed in the wake of the main column. As Sergeant 

Major omas F. Carney recalled, “no stranger array ever moved at the command of one man.”28 e 

column proceeded slowly along the main road. e 

Dominican insurgents had sabotaged bridges and 

railroad tracks on their retreat to impede the Americans’ progress toward Santiago. e column’s extensive supply included construction materials, so the 

Marines made repairs as necessary. At one ravine, 

the Dominicans had destroyed a 300-foot bridge, so 

the Marines crossed the ravine using an improvised 

trestle. Although constructed in just three hours, the 

makeshi bridge permitted the column to transport 

heavy guns and trucks across the ravine “in perfect 

safety.”29 e resourceful troops nevertheless conDominican Republic photo, HIRB, MCHD

Col Joseph Pendleton seated at his desk in Santiago, 

Dominican Republic, 1916.

26 Thomas P. Carney, “Adventures of ‘San Diego’s Own’ Fighting through Santo Domingo” (unpublished manuscript, Gordon L. Pruner Papers, 

Collection 463, Alfred M. Gray Marine Corps Research Center [GRC], Marine Corps University [MCU], Quantico, VA).

27 Joseph H. Pendleton, “Instructions to All Officers of the Forces,” 24 June 1916, Joseph H. Pendleton Papers, Collection 402, GRC, MCU, Quantico, VA.

28 The main column consisted of 34 officers and 803 enlisted men. Carney, “Adventures.”

29 Ibid.
38 MCH Vol. 2, No. 1

fronted an array of obstacles as they trudged across 

the rough terrain. Forcing the Marines to walk secured tactical advantages for the insurgents by delaying the troops’ advance and leaving them vulnerable 

to Dominican attack.

e northern resistance began at Las Trencheras, 

a defensive outcropping where insurgents had built a 

defensive network of trenches. e widely known site 

had long been held by revolutionary armies; because 

government troops had never successfully captured 

the ridge, Dominicans considered it impenetrable.30

As Pendleton’s column approached, Marine ocers 

watched the armed insurgents’ movements through 

their eld glasses and judged artillery to be the best 

means to counterattack the entrenched position. e 

next morning, Captain Chandler Campbell’s 13th 

and 29th Companies hauled the battery into position on a ridge overlooking the road. e artillery 

red 40 rounds while Captain Arthur T. Marix’s 1st 

Battalion, supported by Major Melville J. Shaw’s 2d 

Battalion, advanced slowly through the jungle foliage. e insurgents, impervious to the artillery barrage, concentrated heavy re on the closing ranks.31

Sergeant Major Carney reported that “the whole 

hillside was enshrouded in a pall of smoke through 

which the ashes of ries constantly stabbed like 

light[n]ing through a cloud.”32 Suddenly, he perceived through the smoke a long line of bayonets 

gleaming in the morning sun. Pendleton’s chief of 

sta, Major Robert H. Dunlap, sounded his whistle, and with a wild cheer the Marine infantry units 

charged up the slope. e supporting artillery and 

machine gun platoon continued to suppress enemy 

re, allowing the Marines to perform quick rushes 

and rout the insurgents from the trenches. Within 45 

minutes, they had seized the dominating ridge and 

driven the rebels into retreat.33

On 3 July 1916, Pendleton’s column again encountered resistance at Guayacanas, where 80 Dominicans had dug defensive trenches and constructed 

a roadblock of felled trees. Camouaged by the removal of excavated earth, the enemy’s position was 

Dominican Republic photo 521541, HIRB, MCHD

13th Company, 4th Regiment, traveling with Pendleton’s column on the road from Monte Cristi to Santiago, 26 

June–6 July 1916.

30 Alan McPherson, The Invaded: How Latin Americans and Their Allies Fought and Ended U.S. Occupation (Cary, NC: Oxford University Press, 

2014), 41.

31 Ivan Musicant, Banana Wars: A History of United States Military Intervention in Latin America from the Spanish-American War to the Invasion of 

Panama (London: Macmillan, 1990), 255. Equipped only with shrapnel charges, the artillery dispensed no high-explosive rounds in the caissons 

and so caused little physical destruction to the battlefield.

32 Carney, “Adventures.”

33 Ibid. The Marines could not pursue the insurgents due to the mountainous and overgrown terrain.
Summer 2016 39

so well concealed that the Marines had diculty 

locating it; however, Marine patrols had earlier captured a prisoner who provided accurate information about terrain and size of the Dominican force. 

Artillery proved ineective, because Marine gunners could not nd an adequate position to stage 

their weapons. In addition, the ground in front of 

the defensive line had been cleared of all vegetation, 

providing the enemy an unobstructed line of re.34

Without any tactical alternative, Marines of the machine-gun platoon carried their Benet-Mercier light 

machine guns within a few hundred yards of the 

trenches and opened re. e insurgents countered 

the automatic weapons with single-shot rie re, yet 

the assault was so intense that several men were shot 

and killed at their guns within minutes.35 Pendleton, disregarding the advice of his chief of sta to 

remain with the artillery, advanced to the ring line. 

He calmly surveyed the enemy’s position and issued 

instructions for an enveloping movement. Although 

a direct frontal attack would almost certainly fail, he 

correctly predicted that small parties from the 1st 

and 2d Battalions could approach through the jungle 

on the right and le sides and thereby secure a protected position from which to enlade the enemy. 

Amidst the din of automatic weapons, the Marines 

charged from their anked positions. In the center of 

the Marine advance, where action was thickest, First 

Sergeant Roswell Winans was working a jam-prone 

M1895 Colt-Browning machine gun from an exposed position. “ey seemed to be just missing me,” 

he recalled. “I don’t know how the other men felt, but 

I expected to be shot any minute and just wanted to 

do as much damage as possible to the enemy before 

cashing in.”36 When the last round jammed in his 

weapon, Winans calmly inspected the gun, returned 

Dominican Republic photo 521542, HIRB, MCHD

Three-inch field piece in full recoil at Santiago, 1916.

34 Musicant, Banana Wars, 258. 35 Carney, “Adventures.”

36 “Two Marines Win Medal of Honor,” New York Times, 18 March 1917.
40 MCH Vol. 2, No. 1

it to working order, and resumed ring for the remainder of the engagement.37 Meanwhile, Corporal 

Joseph A. Glowin set up his Benet-Mercier behind a 

fallen log and began ring on the enemy. Although 

he was wounded twice, he continued his assault until 

other Marines forcibly dragged him from the front 

line to safety. For these exploits, Winans and Glowin 

became the rst men in the 4th Regiment to receive 

Medals of Honor.

Having successfully forced the entrenched snipers to retreat, the Marines loaded their wounded 

into the wagon train and resumed the drive toward 

Navarette, where the column joined the smaller 

Puerto Plata contingent, consisting of the 4th and 

9th Companies as well as Marine detachments from 

the battleships USS Rhode Island (BB 17) and USS 

New Jersey (BB 16).

38 Under Pendleton’s orders, the 

force had proceeded from Puerto Plata, a town about 

80 miles east of Monte Cristi on the north coast. 

Although the Marines had traversed a shorter distance than Pendleton’s crew, the column followed a 

destroyed railroad course that was inaccessible to a 

supply train. Tasked with securing and reopening 

the railroad, thereby reconnecting Santiago with 

the port city and establishing a line of supply for the 

combined attack force, the Marines traveled as far as 

they could in a train of four boxcars pulled by a dilapidated locomotive, which pushed a atcar carrying a three-inch artillery piece.39 On 29 June, Bearss’s 

contingent encountered a Dominican force at La 

Cumbre, a critical position near Alta Mira where the 

railroad track passed through a 300-yard tunnel. e 

4th Company scaled a nearby mountain trail and signaled the enemy presence approximately 3,000 yards 

away. Captain Fortson unloaded his 3-inch gun and 

began shelling a shack overlooking the rebel lines. 

On the ground, a combination of frontal and ank 

attacks forced the insurgents to retreat. When the 

Dominicans quit their position and ran for the tunnel, Bearss gave chase with a detachment of 60 men. 

e major, furiously pumping a handcar, rushed into 

the dark tunnel entrance despite the possibility of 

ambush or worse. Bearss and his men emerged safely 

from the railroad corridor to watch the rebels hasten 

toward Santiago.40

e reunion of the columns at Navarette set up the 

Marines for the nal stage of the campaign: the capture of Santiago. Before the troops even made camp 

at the rendezvous point, a delegation approached 

and requested an audience with the American commander to negotiate peace terms. Pendleton, seated 

on an upturned bucket, met with the Dominicans 

in the shade of a mango tree.41 With the insurgents 

decimated and demoralized following three decisive 

but lopsided battles, they assured Pendleton that the 

revolutionaries’ desire for war was gone. e peace 

commission negotiated terms for surrender, including a pardon for their leader, Arias. e agreement 

took eect on 5 July 1916, and the 4th Regiment 

peacefully entered the city of Santiago the following 

day. 

With 2,000 troops in the eld, Caperton had reasonably rm control of the nation. is military success did not resolve the State Department’s desire for 

a pro-American successor regime, however. Russell 

used nancial leverage and threatened further military action to dissuade the Dominican congress from 

electing anyone unwilling to support U.S. demands. 

On 25 July, the Dominicans thwarted Russell’s coercive maneuvers and elected Dr. Francisco Henríquez 

y Carvajal as provisional president. When Henríquez arrived in the capital, the American minister 

refused to recognize the election as valid until he 

submitted to U.S. conditions. Henríquez defended 

the Dominican right to manage its own aairs, so 

Russell impounded all government funds. e ensuing political stalemate lasted until November, when 

the State Department declared the establishment of 

a military government in the Dominican Republic.42

Over the next eight years, the Marine Corps acted 

as an army of occupation supporting a variable and 

sometimes oppressive American regime.

37 Carney, “Adventures.”

38 The detachments from the USS Rhode Island and USS New Jersey originally consisted of five officers and 128 enlisted men. Charles B. Hatch 

to George Barnett, 29 May 1916, Dominican Republic Subject Files, HIRB, MCHD, Quantico, VA.

39 After a skirmish at Llanos Perez, the column halted at Lajas, where Bearss arrived with a detachment from the USS New Jersey. The major assumed command, and the troops continued on foot.

40 Hiram I. Bearss to Joseph H. Pendleton, 13 July 1916, Dominican Republic Subject Files, HIRB, MCHD, Quantico, VA.

41 Carney, “Adventures.”

42 The United States justified military intervention in the Dominican Republic based on a perceived breach in the 1907 customs receivership 

treaty. 
Summer 2016 41

First Sergeant Roswell Winans

and Corporal Joseph A. Glowin 

Medal of Honor Citation

The Navy Department has received the report of a board of investigation convened by order of the 

commanding officer of the United States naval force operating ashore in Santo Domingo from 

which it appears that on July 3, 1916, the Twenty-eighth Company of Marines was engaged with 

the Dominican armed forces at the battle of Gayacanes [sic]. During a running fight of 1,200 yards, our 

forces reached the enemy entrenchments and Corpl. Joseph A. Glowin, United States Marine Corps, 

placed the machine gun, of which he had charge, behind a large log across the road and immediately 

opened fire on the trenches. He was struck once but continued firing his gun, but a moment later he was 

again struck and had to be dragged out of the position into cover. Sergt. Roswell Winans, United States 

Marine Corps, then arrived with a Colt’s gun which he placed in a most exposed position, coolly opened 

fire on the trenches and when the gun jammed, stood up and repaired it under fire. All the time Glowin 

and Winans were handling their guns they were exposed to a very heavy fire which was striking into 

the logs and around the men, seven men being wounded and one killed within 20 feet. Sergt. Winans 

continued firing his gun until the enemy had abandoned the trenches.

In accordance with the recommendation of the commanding officer of the expeditionary forces operating in Haiti, approved by the flag officer, the department has awarded a medal of honor and a gratuity of one hundred dollars ($100) to First Sergt. Roswell Winans, United States Marine Corps, and 

to Corpl. Joseph A. Glowin, United States Marine Corps, for extraordinary heroism in the line of their 

profession and for their eminent and conspicuous courage in the presence of the enemy at the action at 

Guayacanes [sic], Dominican Republic, July 3, 1916.1

1 William S. Benson, General Order No. 244, 2 November 1916, Department of the Navy, Washington, DC.

Dominican Republic photo, HIRB, MCHD

1stSgt Roswell Winans

Dominican Republic photo, HIRB, MCHD

Cpl Joseph A. Glowin
42 MCH Vol. 2, No. 1

e Army of Occupation,

1917–20 

In the United States, press coverage of events in the 

Dominican Republic touted American military operations for restoring peace on the troubled island. 

Despite the challenges of unmapped terrain, and 

sabotaged roads and railroads, the Marines had 

demonstrated tactical skill and professional discipline. On 5 November 1916, the Washington Post

announced that First Sergeant Winans and Corporal Glowin had been awarded the Medal of Honor 

for “extraordinary valor” shown during the battle at 

Guayacanas.43 Furthermore, the eciency and exibility with which the force had subdued the Dominican Republic helped to demonstrate the usefulness 

of the Marine Corps as an elite ghting force ready 

for deployment on behalf of American foreign affairs. Walker W. Vick, the former receiver general 

for Dominican customs, told the New York Times 

that he regretted only that the United States had not 

intervened sooner.44 is high regard represented a 

welcome change for the Marine Corps, whose very 

existence had come under attack in the U.S. Congress less than a decade before. 

In the Dominican Republic, by contrast, public 

opinion of the Marine Corps deteriorated rapidly. 

e Marines’ mission, so clearly dened by Pendleton during the initial campaign, grew murky aer 

the capture of Santiago and declaration of military 

government. Whereas U.S. Marines and sailors initially had performed brief land excursions to quell 

the revolution, their operations in the Dominican 

Republic evolved to encompass long-term occupation and the management of internal political aairs. 

Consequently, the rules of engagement changed as 

well. e initial battles in the Dominican Republic had established a tactical pattern of attack-andresponse that would continue to characterize much 

of the ghting in the coming years; however, several factors distinguished the drive against Santiago 

and later counterinsurgency eorts. First, the campaign had primarily involved conventional warfare. 

Although the Marines encountered repeated assaults 

from Dominicans in entrenched positions, American commanders employed established battle tactics, 

such as advance reconnaissance, supporting artillery 

re, frontal and ank advances, and quick rushes to 

rout the enemy’s defensive line. e establishment 

of an American military government in November 

1916 eectively converted the Marine Corps to an 

occupying police force, directed toward the enforcement of ocial decrees.45 Tasked with maintaining 

order, the troops engaged in counterinsurgency 

operations for which they were neither prepared 

nor trained to handle. Second, frequent personnel 

changes at all command levels, particularly aer U.S. 

entry in World War I, exacerbated the situation by 

introducing variable methods, interpretations, and 

codes of conduct. Finally, the long duration and lack 

of measurable progress in pacifying an increasingly 

hostile population resulted, for many Marines, in a 

breakdown in the distinctions separating civilians 

from enemy insurgents.

Many Dominicans opposed the American occupation from the start. On the same day that Capt 

Harry S. Knapp, USN, declared the U.S. military 

government, First Lieutenant Ernest C. Williams 

led an assault on the fortaleza at San Francisco de 

Macorís where Juan Perez, a local governor and supporter of Arias, and his followers had taken a stand 

and refused to surrender their weapons. As district 

commander, Williams initially dispatched a message 

to the governor demanding that he abandon the fort 

and release his prisoners, but the Dominican allegedly scrawled “Come and get me!” across the ultimatum in reply. In plotting a course of action, Williams 

conferred with other Marines who argued that the 

fort would require at least an infantry battalion and 

artillery battery to take. e district commander, 

however, determined an alternate course of action. 

Early the following evening, he led a detachment of 

43 “Marines Are Rewarded: ‘Noncoms’ Win Medals and Cash for Valor in Fighting Dominicans,” Washington Post, 5 November 1916. 44 “Sees Us at Fault in Santo Domingo,” New York Times, 10 June 1916, 1. 45 Richard Millett and G. Dale Gaddy, “Administering the Protectorates: The U.S. Occupation of Haiti and the Dominican Republic,” in U.S. Marines and Irregular Warfare, 1898–2007: Anthology and Selected Bibliography, ed. Col Stephen S. Evans (Quantico, VA: MCU Press, 2008), 108. 

Operating without clear guidelines from Washington, Capt Harry S. Knapp, USN, repeatedly expanded administrative authority into new areas 

and undertook an ambitious public works program to “remake Dominican society.” His earliest legislative action included a ban on firearms and 

the censorship of press, mail, and telegraph messages, which he believed could be used to incite insurrection. Oppressive conditions worsened 

after Knapp’s departure from office in mid-1918, when subsequent military governors tightened existing regulations and pursued additional, 

nonessential reforms, such as a proposal to change the nation’s name to Hispaniola and the elimination of cockfighting and prostitution.
Summer 2016 43

12 Marines from the 31st and 47th Companies in a 

surprise attack on the fort. Williams and his crew 

rushed the gate, and a brief but intense battle ensued. 

Within minutes, the detachment of 13 Marines, 8 

of them wounded, had gained control of the fort as 

well as 100 prisoners conned therein.46 Williams received a Medal of Honor for his actions.

Williams’s successful operation proved the exception rather than the rule in the Dominican 

campaign. Under the military government, Marine 

ocers acted as district commanders to make sure 

that martial law was obeyed. Initially, they focused 

on establishing garrisons in major cities, disarming 

the civilian population, and defeating known insurgent leaders, whose capture American commanders 

believed would curtail rebellion; however, the con-

scation of weapons and ammunition proved to be 

a poor measure of Marine eectiveness in stemming 

the insurgency in a society that placed a high social 

value on gun ownership.47 Neither ocers nor enlisted Marines understood Dominican culture. Few 

could speak Spanish, and most held then-prevailing 

racist views that upheld whiteness as the epitome 

of cultural and intellectual achievement. With a 

First Lieutenant Ernest C. Williams

Medal of Honor Citation

The department takes pleasure in announcing to the service the award of a medal of honor to First 

Lieut. Ernest C. Williams, U.S.M.C. for extraordinary heroism in the line of his profession in the 

face of the enemy at San Francisco de Macoris, Dominican Republic, November 29, 1916. 

e reports in the department show that on November 29, 1916, First Lieut. Ernest C. Williams with 

12 men charged a fort (Fortaleza) at San Francisco de Macoris in the face of a re from about 40 ries, 

hurled himself against the doors just as they were being closed, was the rst inside, and, without the loss 

of a single man, but with 8 of his original detachment of 12 men wounded, succeeded in the capture of 

the fort.1

1 Josephus Daniels, General Order No. 289, 27 April 1917, Department of the Navy, Washington, DC.

Dominican Republic photo, HIRB, MCHD

1stLt Ernest C. Williams

Dominican Republic photo 521790, HIRB, MCHD

Fortaleza at San Francisco de Macorís, Dominican Republic, captured at 2100 hours on 29 November 1916.

46 Bob Considine, “The Marines Have Landed,” Washington Post, 5 October 1958. Perez retreated, stealing a train for his getaway. Rapidly converging detachments of the 4th Regiment intercepted and captured him, and Perez was sentenced by a U.S. military court.

47 Bickle, Mars Learning, 124–25. By October 1917, the military government had amassed nearly 30,000 pistols, 10,000 rifles, 2,000 shotguns, 

200,000 cartridges, and thousands of machetes and knives.
44 MCH Vol. 2, No. 1

patronizing sense of superiority, many Marines approached their service in the Dominican Republic, 

a country whose populations Knapp characterized 

as being “almost all touched with the tarbrush,” as 

an extended colonialist endeavor to “civilize” the 

natives.48 Marines habitually employed derogatory 

slang, referring to Dominicans as “spigs” and “niggers” both in their everyday speech and in their letters and publications.49

In April 1917, the military government established 

a local constabulary to assist with the counterinsurgency campaign. e Guardia Nacional Dominicana struggled due to lack of funds and a shortage 

of competent ocers and recruits. As with cabinet 

positions in the military government, no members 

of the Dominican elite would submit to a commissioned post in the Guardia Nacional. Consequently, 

many recruits came from the lower classes. e brigade commander looked to Marines to organize and 

ocer the Guardia until such time as Dominicans 

could be trained and found competent to fulll leadership positions, but only 1 of the rst 13 American 

ocers was a commissioned Marine ocer. Unlike 

in Haiti, American ocers in the Guardia did not 

draw double pay, making it dicult to attract even 

noncommissioned ocers to the organization. Both 

neglected by the military government and despised 

by Dominican residents, who considered Guardia 

members traitors to the nationalist cause, the constabulary force was neither large enough nor well 

enough trained to eectively assist the Marines in 

policing the country.50

Dominican Republic photo 5012, HIRB, MCHD

U.S. Marines searching Dominican homes for weapons.

48 Bruce J. Calder, “Caudillos and Gavilleros versus the United States Marines: Guerrilla Insurgency during the Dominican Intervention, 1916–

1924,” Hispanic American Historical Review 8, no. 4 (November 1978): 664. 49 See, for example, Santo Domingo Leatherneck 1, no. 1 (1919): 12, 19, 26. 50 The situation improved only slightly when U.S. entry into World War I necessitated the rapid expansion of this force. As late as 1920, more than 

half of the Guardia Nacional Dominicana officers were Marine officers and noncommissioned officers who had accepted Dominican commissions once dual pay had been instituted.
Summer 2016 45

Early in the campaign, Marine operational reports indicated that captains or lieutenants usually 

led combat patrols of 40–50 men in response to collected intelligence. Aer the rst year, operations 

transitioned to smaller patrols spread thinly across 

the countryside. In many areas, the rainforest underbrush was so thick that Marine patrols limited 

their searches to established trails. Commanded by 

noncommissioned ocers, these detachments consisted of 10–15 Marines marching single le along 

narrow footpaths, which baited the guerrilla ghters 

into battle. Marines sometimes avoided ambush by 

conducting reconnaissance by re. When approaching terrain ideal for an attack, the patrol point guard 

would shoot into the jungle, tricking guerrillas into 

returning re and giving away their position before 

the Marines had fully entered the trap.51 is practice was not without its dangers, however. In August 

1918, insurgents ambushed a patrol of four Marines 

as they were rounding the turn of a trail and crossing 

a stream. Only Private omas J. Rushforth survived 

the attack. Bleeding from more than six wounds, 

including a severed right hand by a machete blow, 

Rushforth managed to mount a horse and escape 

amid enemy gunre. Despite being gravely wounded, the Marine returned to camp, reported the skirmish, and asked to lead a rescue party back to the 

scene of the attack.52

As the occupation dragged on, the military forces 

grew increasingly edgy and frustrated. e expansion of the Marine Corps into Europe during World 

War I siphoned many of the best ocers from the 

Dominican Republic photo, HIRB, MCHD

Equipment inspection, Guardia Nacional Dominicana.

51 Bickle, Mars Learning, 121. 52 “The Sole Survivor,” Log of the U.S. Marines, Dominican Republic Articles and Newspaper Clippings, HIRB, MCHD, Quantico, VA. Rushforth 

received ample praise from his superiors, including the secretary of the Navy; however, he was not eligible for a Medal of Honor because there 

were no witnesses to confirm his actions.
46 MCH Vol. 2, No. 1

Caribbean, and those remaining or newly deployed 

to the Dominican Republic were inadequately 

trained and ill-prepared for the dicult task of carrying out counterinsurgency operations. In addition, many Marines resented what they perceived 

as a slight in their service record and a hindrance 

to their potential for career advancement.53 e 

enemy remained elusive, and Marines began to regard all Dominicans with suspicion. roughout 

the occupation, Marine leaders asserted that their 

primary goal was to protect a law-abiding majority against a minority of insurgents. Marines deliberately labeled opponents “bandits” to emphasize 

this distinction and to uphold the righteous aims of 

American eorts; but, when women and children 

began accompanying guerrilla bands in 1918, the 

American troops found it extremely challenging to 

distinguish guerrillas from refugees and other ordinary inhabitants in rural precincts.54 Many Marines 

turned against the population they were assigned to 

protect, meting out gratuitous punishment regardless of an individual’s guerrilla involvement. Complaints against Marine conduct surged as it became 

common for patrols to burn rural homesteads and 

personal possessions. If the inhabitants ed, Marines oen red at them. e rationale for this practice, as Captain William C. Harlee explained, was 

the incorrect assumption that “People who are not 

bandits do not ee the approach of Marines.”55 Not 

surprisingly, such brutal treatment created more 

Dominican Republic photo H-1969-94, HIRB, MCHD

Dominican guide leading Marines on patrol, ca. 1919.

53 Millett and Gaddy, “Administering the Protectorates,” 109. 

54 Graham A. Cosmas, “Cacos and Caudillos: Marines and Counterinsurgency in Hispaniola, 1915–1924,” in U.S. Marines and Irregular Warfare, 

137; and Calder, “Caudillos and Gavilleros,” 667. 55 William C. Harlee, Eastern District Commander, to Commanding General, 25 January 1922, quoted in Calder, “Caudillos and Gavilleros,” 667. 

Marine command tried to curtail both of these measures, since senior officers hoped that remote homesteads would serve as gathering places 

where patrols might easily locate guerrilla fighters in the future. Headquarters also admonished Marine patrols to exercise caution when firing 

on fleeing civilians, especially women and children.
Summer 2016 47

insurgents and guerrilla supporters among previously uninvolved Dominicans. As one prominent 

Dominican explained, “When someone . . . was 

killed, his brothers joined the gavilleros [bandits], 

to get revenge on the Marines . . . Some joined the 

ranks inspired by patriotism, but most of them 

joined the ranks inspired by hate, fear or revenge.”56

Popular Protest

in the United States 

U.S. entry into World War I had pushed Marine 

actions in the Caribbean into the background, but 

with the declaration of Armistice in 1918, Germany 

no longer represented an imminent threat to U.S. 

national security. Accusations of Marine atrocities, which peaked during this period, further discredited the American occupation. While most of 

the Marines and Guardia conducted themselves in 

a creditable manner, reports of abuse and cruelty 

reached the United States and shocked public opinion. Peasants charged the occupying forces with 

committing atrocities, such as rape, torture, imprisonment, and even death. Among the most egregious 

culprits of Marine misconduct was Captain Charles 

F. Merkel, who in 1918 faced a military tribunal for 

allegedly beating and disguring one Dominican 

prisoner and ordering four others shot during patrol operations near Hato Mayor. Reported to the authorities by his own men, Merkel committed suicide 

while awaiting trial in Marine custody.57 Organized 

opposition to the American occupation grew rapidly 

in response. Government representatives from Brazil, Uruguay, Colombia, and Spain condemned the 

intervention and advised the United States to end 

the occupation, while Latin American newspapers 

launched a determined campaign against the U.S. 

intervention in the Dominican Republic.58 In the 

United States, articles on the occupation appeared 

regularly in e Nation, Journal of International Relations, and Reforma Social, a New York-based publication distributed throughout Latin America. is 

groundswell of anti-imperialist agitation erupted in 

popular backlash against American foreign policy 

during the 1920 presidential campaign.

By highlighting the role of the Marine Corps in 

enforcing U.S. occupation in Hispaniola, Senator 

Warren G. Harding followed the lead of outspoken 

editorials in e Nation. As early as 1917, the leist 

weekly magazine had pronounced the United States 

guilty of “[i]mperialism of the rankest kind” for imposing foreign rule in the West Indies by force of 

arms.59 e periodical devoted increasing attention 

to the topic aer World War I, when critical essays 

by Oswald Garrison Villard, founder of the Anti-Imperialist League and editor of e Nation from 1918 

to 1932; James Weldon Johnson, president of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored 

People; and foreign aairs journalists Lewis S. Gannett and Kincheloe Robbins censured the U.S. miliCourtesy of Leatherneck, 1919

Cartoon of a gavillero, or bandit, by Mattingly.

56 Julio Peynado to Horace G. Knowles, 22 April 1922, quoted in Calder, “Caudillos and Gavilleros,” 669. 57 Mark Folse produced a detailed study of Capt Merkel’s activities in the Dominican Republic and Marine Corps response. See Mark Folse, “The 

Tiger of Seibo: Charles F. Merkel, George C. Thorpe, and the Dark Side of Marine Corps History,” Marine Corps History 1, no. 2 (2016): 4–18. 58 See, for example, “Asks U.S. to Quit Santo Domingo,” Washington Post, 11 September 1919. From his position of exile in Cuba, Dominican 

President Henríquez urged Dominicans to form patriotic juntas and solicited contributions to support the resistance campaign in Havana, where 

Dominican nationalists disseminated a steady stream of information to sympathetic journalists, press associations, and governments in Latin 

America and Europe. In the United States, the Haiti-Santo Domingo Independence Society gained support of prominent progressives, including 

Eugene O’Neill, H. L. Mencken, and Samuel Gompers.

59 “Editorial,” The Nation, 1917, 153.
48 MCH Vol. 2, No. 1

tary government in Santo Domingo for its oppressive 

treatment of local residents. Harding thus evoked 

a spate of evidence when, quoting nearly verbatim 

from e Nation, he called his opponent’s utterances 

“the rst ocial admission of the rape of Haiti and 

Santo Domingo by the present Administration.”60

e provost counts and censorship of the press 

prompted the strongest outcry among citizens of 

the United States and the other American republics. 

In July 1920, Otto Schoenrich, a North American 

writer, reported that the provosts courts, “with their 

arbitrary and overbearing methods, their refusal to 

permit accused persons to be defended by counsel, 

and their foreign judges, foreign language and foreign procedure, are galling to the Dominicans, who 

regard them with aversion and terror.”61 roughout 

the occupation, all insurgent-related crimes funneled through the military courts, where the Marine 

Corps exercised wide powers of arrest as provost 

marshals. Many captains and lieutenants serving in 

this capacity did not speak Spanish and had received 

no special training, yet still wielded the authority to 

detain and sentence suspected enemies. Prisoners 

were occasionally shot without trial or killed while 

trying to escape, prompting military authorities in 

Santo Domingo to admonish Marines in the eld 

to secure prisoners more carefully so as not to raise 

suspicion of judicial misconduct.62 Even with eorts 

to ensure due process, military records indicate that 

court ocials did little to hide their derision for Dominican defendants and complainants, favoring instead the word of their American compatriots as a 

matter of course.63

e case of Captain Charles R. Buckalew spurred 

intense criticism of the military courts in the Dominican press, inciting outrage and leading some social 

clubs to close in response to rising U.S.-Dominican 

tensions. In 1920, Dominican lawyer Pelegrín Castillo accused constabulary Captain Buckalew of 

murdering four Dominican prisoners and committing other atrocities, such as crushing the testicles 

of a suspected guerilla with a stone. When all of the 

prosecution’s witnesses suddenly “voluntarily recanted and acknowledged that they falsely testied,” the 

provost court ruled that these circumstances made it 

“impossible to establish the truth of the accusations 

made against Charles R. Buckalew” and dismissed 

the charges due to unreliable evidence.64 For his 

part Castillo faced a military tribunal for apparently 

making false accusations. e provost court eventually exonerated him, and mounting evidence against 

Buckalew compelled the military court to bring the 

Marine ocer to trial. Despite strong indications of 

guilt—including a partial confession—American of-

cials again acquitted the Marine captain on technical grounds. Furthermore, as historian Bruce Calder 

has observed, the defendant’s statement largely corroborated Castillo’s earlier charges, suggesting that 

the witnesses may have recanted their testimonies 

under duress.65

Press censorship also emerged as a ashpoint of 

controversy in the summer of 1920, when the trial 

of Dominican poet Fabio Fiallo incited indignation 

and criticism throughout Latin America and the 

United States. Under American occupation, Dominican newspapers could not legally publish commentary on military government actions nor could they 

print evocative concepts, such as “national,” “freedom of thought,” “freedom of speech,” or “General” 

as a title for Dominican leaders.66 Infractions landed 

oenders in the American provost courts, which 

had a reputation among Dominicans of being unjust 

60 “Constitution or League—Harding,” New York Times, 18 September 1920. In the same speech, Harding again implicated the Marine Corps: “. . . 

many of our gallant men have sacrificed their lives for the benefit of an executive department in order to establish laws drafted by an Assistant Secretary of the Navy to secure a vote in the League, and to continue at the point of the bayonet, a military domination.”

61 Otto Schoenrich, “The Present American Intervention in Santo Domingo and Haiti,” Journal of International Relations 11, no. 1 (July 1920): 51. 62 Calder, “Caudillos and Gavilleros,” 668–69. 63 Calder, The Impact of Intervention, 128–29. 64 Capt Buckalew also faced separate allegations of torture, which were later proven false but stoked Dominican opposition and outrage toward 

American forces. According to Leocadio Báez, a Dominican peasant from Salcedo, occupation forces kidnapped him when he was only 16 years 

old and forced him to act as a guide against Dominican insurgents. When the Americans suspected the teenager of knowing the location of an 

arms cache, Buckalew allegedly ordered a combined U.S. and Dominican contingent to torture him as well as 16 other victims. Báez, the sole 

survivor, suffered severe burns from a red-hot machete and could no longer walk. During the Marine investigation, Báez confessed under oath 

that his torturer was Ramón Ulises Escobosa, a Dominican who had not taken orders from U.S. officers and who did not deny the accusations. 

The military occupation exonerated the accused Marine officer, but popular opinion was not swayed. For decades thereafter, Dominicans considered Báez a cause célebre of Marine abuse. See McPherson, The Invaded, 96, 136–37. 65 Calder, “Caudillos and Gavilleros,” 667. 66 Dana G. Munro, Intervention and Dollar Diplomacy in the Caribbean, 1900–1921 (New Jersey: Princeton University Press, 1964), 321.
Summer 2016 49

and cruel. In July 1920, Dominican newspapers published several stridently hostile articles and speeches 

that leaders had delivered during a “patriotic week,” 

an event held to raise funds for their oppositional 

movement. Several individuals, including Fiallo, 

landed in jail and were convicted by a military commission. eir sentences initially remained a secret, 

and rumors swirled that they had been condemned 

to death. e story spread throughout Latin America, and news of the injustice reached Washington 

by way of Mexico City and Uruguay. Although the 

verdict had been exaggerated, Fiallo’s sentence remained extreme. e poet not only began serving 

a three-year term of imprisonment with hard labor, 

but also was levied a $5,000 ne. e State Department endeavored to arrange Fiallo’s release, but he 

remained imprisoned for several weeks and was 

subsequently freed under the condition of military 

surveillance.67

e following month, Harding’s vehement campaign rhetoric thrust Dominican allegations of Marine brutality and oppressive military governance 

into the political limelight. He intended the charges 

to reect poorly on the Wilson administration, especially Franklin D. Roosevelt and his superior, 

Secretary of the Navy Josephus Daniels. e strategy worked. Almost immediately newspapers and 

publications that had previously supported the occupation or failed to report on it assumed a more 

critical stance. en, in the closing weeks of the national election, a private letter written by Brigadier 

General George Barnett, Commandant of the Marine Corps, leaked to the press. e missive, directed 

to the commander of Marine forces in Haiti, seemed 

to corroborate the worst charges of troop misconduct. Referring to the proceedings of a recent courtmartial, Barnett expressed shock and dismay over 

what he believed to be the “indiscriminate killing of 

natives” in Hispaniola.68 Journalists clamored for an 

ocial investigation and immediate withdrawal of 

U.S. troops. Daniels responded to the negative publicity by ordering an internal investigation, but the 

ndings failed to quell public protest. Even the New 

York Times, which a few months earlier had printed 

a front-page editorial against Harding’s nomination, 

issued regular updates on the Republican candidate’s charges, Roosevelt’s campaign rebuttals, and 

the Wilson administration’s formal inquiry into the 

matter.69 Harding won the presidential election in a 

landslide victory.70

Receiving nearly twice the popular vote as the 

Democratic ticket, he appealed to war-weary Americans who craved a “return to normalcy” or reorientation toward peace and domestic prosperity in the 

aermath of the Great War. Exposing the failures 

and vulnerabilities of military occupation, the election marked a turning point in U.S. military action 

in Hispaniola. e persistence of armed rebellion 

four years aer the initial intervention and reports 

Dominican Republic photo, HIRB, MCHD

Raising the Dominican flag at Fort Ozama, Santo Domingo, on the occasion of Dominican President Horacio Vásquez’s inauguration, July 1924.

67 The Nation, October 1920. 68 Ibid.

69 Amid the growing furor, Roosevelt reevaluated his position with regard to other nations in the Western Hemisphere, but the damage had 

already been done. See Cross, The Diplomatic Education of Franklin D. Roosevelt, 85–107. 70 Democrat James M. Cox failed to earn a single electoral college vote in any of the 18 Western states and only secured 127 to Harding’s 404 

in total. In the popular vote, Harding’s 16,181,750 votes dominated Cox’s 8,141,750.
50 MCH Vol. 2, No. 1

of oppressive American governance spurred opposition to the military occupation, while charges of Marine atrocities further hardened popular opinion and 

damaged the reputation of the U.S. Marine Corps. 

e impact was far greater in the Dominican Republic than in Haiti, where U.S. troops would remain 

until 1932. Eorts toward U.S. withdrawal from the 

Dominican Republic began immediately; the outgoing Wilson administration submitted a proposal for 

U.S. departure before the end of the year. Although 

the initial plan was unsuccessful, Harding’s administration resumed negotiations with Dominican 

leaders the following spring and enacted a complete 

transfer of power by September 1924.

Withdrawal

Harding’s secretary of state, Charles Evans Hughes, 

entered into protracted negotiations with Dominican representatives over the terms of U.S. withdrawal. e State Department encountered resistance 

from both the Dominicans and from the military 

government until Brigadier General Henry Harry 

Lee, a veteran with 24 years of service in the Marine Corps, replaced the much-maligned Navy Rear 

Admiral omas Snowden and his successor Rear 

Admiral Samuel S. Robison as military governor.71

Acting as brigade commander as well as military 

governor, Lee oversaw the military provisions of 

Dominican Republic photo 530542, HIRB, MCHD

Acting military governor, BGen Harry Lee, USMC (first row, far right), with military staff.

71 Following the conclusion of the European conflict, the State Department endeavored to alleviate conditions in the Dominican Republic. 

Early in 1919, the agency had proposed transitioning from a purely military administration to a provisional government with increased civilian 

participation; however, this idea proved impracticable from a legal standpoint and encountered resistance from the Navy Department. Hostility 

to U.S. occupation increased noticeably after RAdm Thomas Snowden succeeded Capt Harry S. Knapp as military governor in February 1919. 

Whereas Knapp had made good service of prominent Dominicans willing to cooperate with the military government toward an eventual plan 

for withdrawal, Snowden showed little interest in maintaining contact with the local community. He further alienated potential allies in his public 

pronouncements that the occupation would need to continue for many more years. See Millett and Gaddy, “Administering the Protectorates,” 

101–16.
Summer 2016 51

withdrawal. He formulated a plan that would lay 

the groundwork for a peaceful transition of power. 

He reduced and concentrated the 2d Brigade garrisons of the northern and southern districts to the 

capital and other principal cities. He also dedicated 

signicant resources toward improving the Guardia 

Nacional Dominicana as the primary peacekeeper in 

anticipation of U.S. withdrawal.

e centerpiece of his plan was the reorganization 

of policia training to reform the Guardia Nacional. 

Lee aimed to replace the remaining 44 American 

ocers, suciently train an enlisted force of 1,200, 

and assign Dominican forces to all Marine outposts by the close of 1922. To this end, he planned 

to bring in 24 Dominican ocers and all enlisted 

men for formal training at Haina, a new ocer candidate school established in 1921. Buenaventura 

Cabral, a regional governor, assumed command of 

the constabulary, although Marine ocers remained 

charged with the accelerated training program. 

Americans selected Dominican recruits carefully, 

preferring to train Guardia members who had previously suered at the hands of insurgents. Under 

the new system, all ocers and enlisted men would 

complete six months of training at Haina and an additional six months of supervised eldwork before 

advancing from probationary status. With instruction in counterinsurgency tactics, the Dominican 

constabulary organized elite antiguerrilla outts and 

began conducting successful patrols. In time, these 

paramilitary auxiliaries, renamed the Policía Nacional Dominicana, would take over Marine outposts, 

thereby allowing the American troops to garrison in 

principal cities.72

Lee announced a more benevolent policy toward the Dominican civilian population as well. He 

curbed the excesses of the provost courts, investigated charges of Marine misconduct, and ordered 

culprits to trial. He made the guards subject to civilian law. He also began an intensive indoctrination 

program for the troops. His primary purpose was to 

convince the Marines that the Dominicans were not 

the enemy and that their mission was to make the 

U.S. withdrawal a success:

e Forces of the United States did not enter 

this Republic to make war on the Dominican 

people. Far from it! . . . e object of the United 

States as explained in the beginning has never 

changed. It has been throughout the occupation 

to this time of returning the government to the 

Dominican people an unselsh object, looking only toward the betterment of the Dominican people and at great expense to the United 

States. . . . Now ask yourself if your conduct in 

72 The Marines remained on call to reinforce the policía if serious outbreaks of violence occurred.

Smedley D. Butler Papers, Alfred M. Gray Marine Corps Research Center, Marine Corps University

Baseball in the Dominican Republic.
52 MCH Vol. 2, No. 1

your attitude toward the Dominican people is 

as worthy as that of your country, and bear in 

mind that your conduct represents the United 

States in the eyes of the Dominican people.73

Lee ensured that subordinate commanders followed his rigorous training plan. Weekly reports 

from these years include program summaries and 

preliminary self-assessments for the indoctrination 

of enlisted Marines. Film screenings and sports, 

especially baseball, eased troop boredom and contributed to more harmonious Marine-civilian cooperation.74 Such measures not only worked to contain 

the civilian population’s disaection but also helped 

to soothe the many grievances Dominicans had harbored against the occupying forces since their arrival 

in 1916. 

In the United States, formal investigations launched 

in response to public outcry, one by a naval court of 

inquiry and one by a special committee of the U.S. 

Senate, could not substantiate charges of abuse. e 

public testimony of Dominicans before the Select 

Committee on Haiti and Santo Domingo between 

1921 and 1922 gave vivid detail to a litany of stories 

involving Marine misconduct. Public scrutiny as a result of the senatorial hearings did result in some immediate modications to occupation policy. e 15th 

Regiment, for instance, ceased its practice of patrolling 

under junior ocers. Until the end of the occupation, 

Marine ocers sent the entire regiment into the eld. 

e new eld organization, unlike previous patrols, 

operated under the command of senior ocers and 

carried previously dened objectives to be achieved. 

Although the senatorial committee ultimately concluded that the initial military intervention had been 

justied, it declared that the American administration 

had been ineective. Professor Carl Kelsey, whom the 

American Academy of Political and Social Science 

sent to Hispaniola to conduct an independent study 

of the occupation, concurred: “e Marine Corps is 

intended to be a ghting body and we should not ask 

it to assume all sorts of civil and political responsibilities unless we develop within it a group of especially 

trained men.”75

e guerrilla conict ended in the spring of 1922, 

aer the United States and Dominican Republic 

signed an agreement terminating the military occupation. is denite plan for withdrawal no doubt 

hastened the drawdown. Equally important was 

the internal evaluation of the operational eectiveness and subsequent recalibration of Marine policy 

and tactical procedure. One notable example of this 

shi is the analytical writing of Lieutenant Colonel 

Charles J. Miller, chief of sta of the 2d Brigade during the nal years of occupation, who identied ve 

separate groups within the Dominican resistance: 

professional highwaymen or gavilleros; discontented 

politicians who used crime to advance their personal 

ambitions; unemployed laborers driven by poverty; 

peasants recruited under duress; and ordinary criminals. e self-reective impulse aer 1920 generated invaluable insights into the personal motivations 

of guerrilla ghters, which in turn inspired novel 

responses and solutions on the part of the military 

government. Most of the insurgents Miller had identied, for example, surrendered to American forces 

in exchange for near-total amnesty. 

e knowledge and experience gained in the 

Dominican Republic further permitted the Marine 

Corps to implement improved air-ground counterinsurgency operations in Haiti (1915–34) and Nicaragua (1926–32). Because of the novelty of aviation, 

airplanes in the Dominican Republic primarily performed logistical duties, such as mail delivery, aerial 

photographic surveying and mapping, and shuttling 

ocers between Marine outposts and the capital; 

however, commanders began to perceive the utility 

of aviation for air-ground combat maneuvers.76 Aircra initially supported ground operations by providing aerial reconnaissance, but communication 

methods hindered coordination.77 Even so, Colonel 

73 Harry Lee, “Indoctrination in Proper Attitude of Forces of Occupation toward Dominican Government and People,” in Rufus H. Lane, Santo 

Domingo (n.p.: 1922), 6–7. 74 Harry Lee to John A. Lejeune, Special Reports, 1923–1924, U.S. Marine Corps 2d Brigade Diary, Dominican Republic Subject Files, HIRB, 

MCHD, Quantico, VA.

75 Carl Kelsey, The American Intervention in Haiti and the Dominican Republic (Philadelphia, PA: American Academy of Political and Social Science, 1922), 198. 76 Commanded by Capt Walter E. McCaughtry, the 1st Air Squadron began operations from an airstrip carved out of the jungle near Consuelo, 

a town 12 miles from San Pedro de Macorís. The squadron had 35 trained pilots and mechanics. In 1920, the air unit moved to an improvised 

airfield near Santo Domingo. 

77 Since radios were too large to fit in the cockpit, field units had to recover written messages dropped from the air.
Summer 2016 53

James C. Breckinridge, commander of the 15th Regiment, reported that the airplanes had been equipped 

with machine guns and would “play a conspicuous 

part in the hunting out of the bandits lurking in the 

jungles.”78 Experimenting with aerial attacks against 

Dominican insurgents in the San Pedro de Macorís 

district, ground patrols discovered it was far more 

benecial to signal insurgent locations to pilots, who 

would then attack guerrilla forces directly.79

In the process of developing counterinsurgency 

tactics in the Dominican Republic, the Marine Corps 

also committed—and learned from—its mistakes. 

When it became evident in 1921 that the United 

States planned to dismantle the military government, 

the administration authorized one nal campaign to 

eliminate guerrilla insurgency in the Eastern District. 

Over the course of ve months, the 15th Regiment 

skillfully executed nine cordon operations. Assisted 

by biplanes spotting suspicious activity from the air, 

the Marines would patrol in gradually constricting 

circles to seal o and screen entire village populations for insurgents. Every male Dominican between 

the ages of 10 and 60 would be arrested, taken into a 

oodlit detention center, and identied by witnesses 

concealed behind canvas screens. Although some 

600 “bandits” had been captured in the sweeps, the 

Marine commander abruptly dropped the method 

due to widespread complaints.80

Gen Christian F. Schilt, USMC, Dominican Republic photo, HIRB, MCHD

De Havilland DH-4B, one of five stationed at Santo Domingo with a Lewis .30-caliber machine gun on the scarf 

mount, 1919.

78 “Marines Use Airplanes to Fight Bandits,” Recruiters’ Bulletin, May 1919, Dominican Republic Articles and Newspaper Clippings, HIRB, MCHD, 

Quantico, VA.

79 Langley, Banana Wars, 154. 80 Ibid. 
54 MCH Vol. 2, No. 1

Conclusion

In the immediate aermath of World War I, American society had shied its moral orientation to a 

more negative opinion of imperialism, patently rejecting military invention as a justiable course of 

diplomatic action. As the most visible imprint of U.S. 

presence in the island republics, the Marine Corps 

came under intense scrutiny for its apparent lack of 

discipline and forthright leadership. In the end, the 

stalemate of guerrilla warfare, oppressive policies of 

press censorship, and sensational reports surrounding Marine abuses overshadowed its eciency and 

success in the early phase of the intervention and 

produced conditions in which military occupation 

was no longer tenable.

e process of reecting on Marine experiences 

in the Dominican Republic to precipitate U.S. withdrawal laid the groundwork for the development of 

small wars doctrine. Before the Marine Corps departed Santo Domingo, Major Samuel M. Harrington 

had published “e Strategy and Tactics of the Small 

Wars,” an operational prescription for six steps in conducting a small war.81 is and other doctrinal writings beneted from the collection and evaluation of 

tactical and strategic data from the occupation in the 

immediate post-Dominican years. Mandatory lectures at both the eld and company ocers’ schools 

included some of the rst attempts to incorporate 

small wars lessons into the curriculum at the new 

Marine Corps Schools at Quantico. Although small 

wars training did not expand beyond these tentative 

steps until the Nicaraguan intervention, the lessons 

of the Dominican experience—both successes and 

failures—contributed signicantly to the formation 

of the Small Wars Manual more than a decade later. 

Today, as irregular warfare increasingly becomes the 

standard pattern of engagement, the military insights 

gained through these early counterinsurgency operations serve as a stark reminder of the need for constant 

evaluation and adaption in tactical procedure and of 

the lessons that can be gleaned thereof. s1775s

81 Maj Samuel M. Harrington, “The Strategy and Tactics of the Small Wars,” Marine Corps Gazette 6, no. 4 (December 1921): 474–91; and 7, no. 

1 (March 1922): 84–93.
Lieutenant Colonel Micheal D. Russ, USMC

United States Marines’ actions during 

the Nicaraguan Campaign (1927–33) 

underscored the signicance for ghting as a Marine air-ground task force 

(MAGTF) in future wars. Marines were deployed 

and tasked to protect national interests abroad on 

more than 20 occasions before the Nicaraguan Campaign, and once more, Marines and sailors would be 

called upon to stabilize Nicaragua and protect U.S. 

business interests in the Central American region.1

By training and employing the Guardia Nacional, 

deliberately incorporating and integrating Marine 

aviation, and utilizing the synergistic eects of the 

MAGTF concept (in a modern sense), Marines effectively countered General Augusto Sandino’s 

insurgency and delayed a Nicaraguan civil war. Marine operations within an integrated combined-arms 

team ultimately proved the worth of the MAGTF 

concept and laid the foundation for future conicts. 

e annexation of California and subsequent discovery of gold prompted the United States to create a transisthmus supply line linking the American 

Pacic Coast regions and Southeast Asia to Atlantic 

Ocean areas. Transit across the Central American 

e Marine Air-Ground

Task Force in Nicaragua,

1927–33

A CAMPAIGN AGAINST SANDINO’S COUNTERINSURGENCY

isthmus was a faster route to the West and lessened 

the dangers posed by moving supplies across the 

continental United States or around the Cape Horn 

of South America.2

 However, increasing instability in 

Central America and the potential for a “European 

intervention” on the isthmus threatened American 

nancial and subsequent political interests in the 

future construction of a transisthmus canal system.3

e security of the American population and growing U.S. nancial investments, particularly in Nicaragua, seemed to rest upon “stability throughout the 

[Central American] isthmus.”4

Historically, Nicaragua suered “under the lash of 

rebellion” due to ongoing clashes between conservative and liberal parties and localismo: a “erce civic 

pride, which magnied economic jealousy and enabled petty leaders to raise armies [and] overthrow 

the national government.”5

 e inability to align 

politics in Nicaragua aer the disestablishment of 

the Federal Republic of Central American in 1839 

served as the greatest destabilizing factor for Nicaragua far into the 1920s.6

 However, the combination 

of these two phenomena was only increased by the 

continual battle for economic power within Nicaragua as each new leader struggled to maintain peace 

in the country. Over time, diplomatic and economic 

1 Richard F. Grimmett, Instances of Use of United States Armed Forces Abroad, 1798–2009 (Washington, DC: Congressional Research Service, 

January 2010), 2–10.

2 Bernard C. Nalty, The United States Marines in Nicaragua (Washington, DC: Historical Branch, G-3 Division, Headquarters Marine Corps, 1968), 

1–4.

3 Ibid., 4, 34.

4 Lester D. Langley, The Banana Wars: An Inner History of American Empire, 1900–1934 (Lexington: University Press of Kentucky, 1983), 53. 5 Nalty, United State Marines in Nicaragua, 1; and Neill W. Macaulay, “Sandino and the Marines: Guerrilla Warfare in Nicaragua, 1927–1933” 

(dissertation, University of Texas, 1965), 1. 

6 Federal Republic of Central America consisted of present-day states of Nicaragua, Guatemala, Honduras, El Salvador, and Costa Rica. See 

Nalty, United States Marines in Nicaragua, 1.

55
56 MCH Vol. 2, No. 1

eorts of the United States produced only minimal 

stabilizing gains in Nicaragua, ultimately resulting in 

the U.S. administration’s decision to declare “the supremacy of the power of the United States in Central 

America.”7

U.S. interventions in the Central American region 

had produced little stability in Nicaragua by the end 

of 1926. President eodore Roosevelt negotiated a 

peace treaty among the Central American nations in 

1907, preventing the unication of Central America 

under a liberal Nicaraguan inuence. President William H. Ta, Roosevelt’s successor, implemented 

the Dollar Diplomacy that, one year later, extended 

U.S. commercial and nancial interests to foreign 

Map adapted by W. Stephen Hill

7 Bryce Wood, The Making of the Good Neighbor Policy (New York: Columbia University Press, 1961), 15; and Macaulay, “Sandino and the Marines,” 10.
Summer 2016 57

e Nicaraguan Campaign (1927–33) utilized 

diplomatic and military powers to disarm Nicaraguan factions, maintain regional security, and increase the legitimacy of Nicaragua, while protecting 

U.S. business and economic interests. Henry L. Stimson, emissary of the United States, worked with the 

Nicaraguan government to broker the disarmament 

of Nicaraguan factions. Alongside disarmament efforts, the 2d Brigade, led by Brigadier General Logan 

Feland, formed the basis of a MAGTF in the early 

part of 1928, which included six scout bomber aircra that supported his infantry and logistics units. 

General Feland’s intent was not to campaign in Nicaragua but to pursue Sandino oensively using 

combined air and ground forces to force Sandino to 

ee the country.10 As Sandino’s forces resisted, U.S. 

Marines and sailors began occupying and patrolling 

the land and sky in the west and central regions of 

Nicaragua to bring order to the countryside and disrupt the operations of Sandino’s forces. Concomitant 

with oensive combat operations, Marines also set 

out to rebuild and legitimize an indigenous guard 

force capable of assuming national security responsibilities in the future.11 By the end of the campaign 

in January 1933, the Marines and sailors had not 

only disrupted Sandino’s rebels and reinvigorated a 

competent national guard, but also increased combat capability as “Marine aviators and infantrymen” 

began functioning as an air-ground team.12

Major Ross E. Rowell possessed extensive experience in Marine aviation and commanded the rst 

squadron of de Havilland DH-4 aircra that supported 2d Brigade. He, along with other Marine 

aviators, like Alfred A. Cunningham, believed that 

Marine aviation’s primary role was supporting the 

Marines on the ground. e character of aviation operations supporting the Marine maneuver elements 

aligned around “the functions of observation aviation, of ground attack aviation and another which 

may be referred to as air transport service.”13 Major 

Rowell worked with ground commanders and the 

governments, including Nicaragua, and supported 

increased international domestic growth. By 1909, 

the mishandling of Nicaraguan governmental affairs and economy by liberal President José Santos 

Zeyala spawned a civil war that lasted throughout 

much of the next 16–17 years. Increasing political 

and domestic instability amplied the rising threat 

to American political and economic interests, unfortunately, climaxing with the death of an American 

citizen in December 1926.8

 e “total disregard for 

American lives and property” le President Calvin 

Coolidge no choice but to “do everything in his power to protect American interests in Nicaragua,” and 

send in the Marines.9

8 Nalty, United States Marines in Nicaragua, 3–5. 9 Ibid., 13–14.

10 Maj Taylor White, “U.S. Marine Corps Operations in Nicaragua from 1927 to 1933” (dissertation, Marine Corps University, Command and Staff 

College, 2011), 7.

11 Ibid., 14–16.

12 Ibid., 34.

13 Ross E. Rowell, “Annual Report of Aircraft Squadrons, Second Brigade, U.S. Marine Corps, July 1, 1927 to June 20, 1928,” Marine Corps Gazette

13, no. 4 (December 1928): 248.

Official U.S. Marine Corps photo

BGen Logan Feland 
58 MCH Vol. 2, No. 1

day close air support). Additionally, Marines provided security for the 1928 Nicaraguan elections and 

oversaw the training and integration of an indigenous guard force, the Guardia Nacional.

brigade commander to conduct observation of the 

enemy, close air support, and air transport of Marines and logistics in support of operations on the 

ground. Major Rowell commented in his report that 

the “trust and consideration enjoyed at the hands of 

the Brigade and Area Commanders has resulted in a 

splendid esprit among the ocers and men of the air 

units.” is esprit de corps carried forward not only 

shattered the cohesiveness and morale of Sandino’s 

insurgency, but also laid the foundation for further 

combined-arms integration.14

Deliberate campaigning executed by Marines and 

sailors occurred generally from January 1927 until 

the spring of 1929. During these two years, the 2d 

Brigade “launched three major oensives against the 

Sandinistas” to purge the rebel forces from Nicaragua.15 From July 1927 to the end of 1928, Marines 

and sailors on the ground and from the air conducted western and eastern oensives, forcing Sandino’s 

rebels on the defensive. Marine aviation supported 

both oensives by delivering supplies and messages 

to and from the eld, providing aerial reconnaissance, and attacking hostile ground forces (modern 

Official U.S. Marine Corps photo

Transport plane flying over the Nicaraguan coast. 

Official U.S. Marine Corps photo

Maj Ross E. Rowell was a strong believer in the value of 

aircraft support for ground troops. 

14 Ibid., 252–56. 

15 Brent Leigh Gravatt, “The Marines and the Guardia Nacional de Nicaragua: 1927–1932” (dissertation, Duke University, 1973), 79.
Summer 2016 59

Brigadier General Feland phased ashore more 

than 2,000 Marines and sailors in the initial stage and 

“launched a desultory campaign into Nueva Segovia 

to disperse Sandino’s ever-growing band” of rebels 

to stop the bleeding.16 e brigade’s oensives during the summer of 1927 and into the spring of 1929 

concentrated the bulk of the force to defeat Sandino 

forces in the Nuevo Segovia and Jinotega regions 

and along the Coco River from the east. By the summer of 1928, more than 5,000 Marines and sailors 

secured population centers and established combat 

outposts in the northwest and north-central regions 

of Nicaragua, namely Quilalí, Ocotal, El Chipote, 

and Poteca.17 Marines and sailors, once established, 

conducted security patrols to keep Sandino’s rebels 

from interfering with overlapping eorts to integrate 

Guardia Nacional troops and ensure security for the 

impending governmental elections in 1928.18

U.S. Marines and the

Guardia Nacional

e Guardia Nacional was ocially reconstituted at 

the request of Nicaraguan President Adolfo Diaz in 

May 1927. e Guardia’s rst director, Lieutenant 

Colonel Robert Y. Rhea, focused throughout much 

of 1927 and 1928 on recruiting, training, and retaining an all-volunteer, nonpartisan force led by Marine commissioned and noncommissioned ocers. 

By the start of 1929, the Guardia Nacional began 

assuming responsibilities for much of the patrolling in the sectors of Nicaragua and was integrated 

into oensive operations. ree years later, the men 

of the Guardia Nacional manned the majority of the 

combat outposts and operated with Marine forces, 

serving primarily as the ready reserve with minimal 

assistance from Marine mentors.19

In 1927, the Guardia Nacional was envisioned 

to be a nonpartisan force, loyal to the Nicaraguan 

leadership and capable of defending the government 

against further rebellion. e responsibility for organizing, training, and employing the Guardia Nacional was initially tasked to the Marine Corps, and the 

Marines and sailors selected to carry out this mission did so until the end of the campaign in 1933. 

Organizationally, the general headquarters of the 

Guardia Nacional reported directly to the president of Nicaragua and was commanded initially by 

Lieutenant Colonel Rhea in May 1927, succeeded in 

August of that same year by Brigadier General Elias 

R. Beadle.20 e Guardia Nacional was structured 

into four regional combat divisions and contained 

Official U.S. Marine Corps photo

Purported picture of Augusto Sandino. 

16 Langley, Banana Wars, 195; and Counterinsurgency, FM 3-24/MCWP 3-33.5 (Washington, DC: Department of the Army, January 2006), 5-4. 17 LtCol Charles Neimeyer, USMC (Ret), “Combat in Nicaragua,” Marine Corps Gazette 92, no. 4 (April 2008): 74. The 11th Marine Regiment arrived in January 1928.

18 Gravatt, “The Marines and the Guardia Nacional de Nicaragua,” 79–81. 19 Ibid., 86–101.

20 Dana Gardner Munro, The United States and the Caribbean Republics: 1921–1933 (New Jersey: Princeton University Press, 1974), 227.
60 MCH Vol. 2, No. 1

separate companies that supported the headquarters, recruiting, and replacement functions.21 e responsibility for the training and employment of the 

Guardia Nacional, however, fell primarily on junior 

Marine and Navy commissioned and noncommissioned ocers selected and assigned to lead this allvolunteer force.

Training the Guardia Nacional was not as organized or developed as the structuring of the force 

seemed to be. First, Marine and Navy commissioned 

and noncommissioned ocers lacked formal training in the “social, cultural, and value systems of the 

native Nicaraguan.”22 e lack of cultural training 

was problematic throughout the campaign because 

some Nicaraguans did not respond favorably to an 

American-style of discipline—one that collided with 

Nicaraguan sensitivities and resulted in several mutinies.23 Second, Guardia Nacional basic and combat 

skill training lacked standardization, and its execution was primarily delegated to the local area commanders. Guardia Nacional enlistees, usually spending about a month in basic training, were sent to eld 

units where they learned basic academic and soldiery 

skills “on the job.” As Brent Gravatt noted, “. . . if the 

recruit lived long enough . . . he became a competent 

soldier by practice.”24 ird, formal military training for junior and senior native ocers emerged too 

late in the campaign. e Guardia Nacional lacked 

the requisite amount of combat-experienced ocers 

to lead the force by the departure of the Marines in 

1933.25

Despite perceived shortcomings in organization 

and training, the Guardia Nacional developed into a 

competent ghting force by the end of the campaign 

in 1933 due to the eorts of Marines and sailors. For 

the rst couple of years of the campaign, the Guardia 

Nacional was employed to man outposts and conduct patrols and limited oensive operations under 

Official U.S. Marine Corps photo

Marines shown with Guardia Nacional troops. 

21 Gravatt, “The Marines and the Guardia Nacional de Nicaragua,” 60–63. The Guardia Nacional de Nicaragua soldiers volunteered for three-year 

enlistments. During the period from October 1927 to September 1932, the Guardia Nacional enlisted on average about 1,000 Nicaraguans 

per year as the enlisted force level rose from 1,633 enlisted men to almost 2,300 near the end of the campaign. See table 12 in Gravatt, 109.

22 Ibid., 106.

23 Ibid., 107.

24 Ibid., 111–12.

25 Maj Julian C. Smith et al., A Review of the Organization and Operations of the Guardia National de Nicaragua (Washington, DC: Headquarters 

Marine Corps, 1933), 103–6.
Summer 2016 61

egy to establish an active defense concentrated the 

preponderance of the Guardia Nacional forces in 

the heart of insurgent country and incorporated offensive search-and-destroy missions that minimized 

the threats posed by Sandino’s rebels (akin to modern day operations conducted by U.S. forces in Afghanistan and Iraq).28 at same summer in 1929, 

Sandino departed Nicaragua for Mexico to request 

assistance for the insurgency. Unfortunately, when 

Sandino returned one year later, rebel forces faced a 

competent and experienced Guardia Nacional force 

that ably disrupted his operations during the next 

stage of the campaign.29

e 2d Brigade force retrogrades and the transfer 

of authority of Nicaraguan regions to the Guardia 

Nacional in 1929 marked the overlap of the “Middle Stage: Inpatient Care—Recovery” and the “Last 

Stage: Outpatient Care—Movement to Self-Su-

ciency.”30 e integration of Guardia Nacional forces 

the supervision of and alongside Marines and sailors. From 1929 to 1932, the Guardia Nacional troop 

counts and combat eectiveness increased, enabling 

them to accept all patrol duties and locally lead in 

many campaign operations that followed.26 e organization, training, and employment of the Guardia Nacional by the Marines and sailors during the 

course of the campaign provided Nicaragua with a 

legitimate, competent guard force able to fully support its developing government.

e responsibility of “Middle Stage: Inpatient 

Care—Recovery” rested on the shoulders of the 

newly elected government and the Guardia Nacional around the spring of 1929.27 Operationally, the 

Guardia Nacional, comprised of about 2,000 soldiers, 

integrated into the northern and western regions of 

Nicaragua and became the main force to occupy 

combat outposts and conduct security patrols alongside and in place of Marines and sailors. e stratOfficial U.S. Marine Corps photo

Group shot of a Marine leader in front of two rows of Guardia Nacional troops. 

26 Gravatt, Marines and the Guardia Nacional de Nicaragua, 83–92. 27 Counterinsurgency, 5-5. 28 Gravatt, “The Marines and the Guardia Nacional de Nicaragua,” 83. 29 Ibid., 91–92.

30 Counterinsurgency, 5-5, 5-6. 
62 MCH Vol. 2, No. 1

liaison (communications relay) and visual reconnaissance (intelligence, surveillance, and reconnaissance) missions consumed the majority of the sorties 

own during the campaign. Ground commanders 

were enabled by Marine aviation to communicate 

with combat outposts and patrols that “penetrated 

far into the heavily forested mountains and remote 

jungles of [Nicaragua].”36 Infantry liaison missions 

essentially linked eld commanders with the outlying patrols, providing the means for passing patrol 

reports and communicating routine and emergency 

support requests. Visual reconnaissance ights, usually conducted in conjunction with infantry liaison, 

augmented ground intelligence mechanisms and 

assisted in providing the eld commanders with information beyond what was discernable from the 

ground. e two combined missions dramatically increased the eld commander’s situational awareness 

beyond what he could see and his ability to command 

and control subordinate elements from a distance.37

Aerial observation (modern day forms of close 

air support and armed reconnaissance) combined 

the “use of aircra in organized warfare” to attack 

hostile ground forces and augment ground maneuver and surface res (modern day combined-arms 

operations).38 Marine aviators routinely conducted 

ground attack in advance of deliberate operations 

(the deep ght) or when Sandino’s forces presented 

themselves as targets of opportunities, attacking insurgent strongholds and maneuver columns inicting many casualties and “severely [punishing]” large 

enemy forces in places such as El Chipote and Murra.39 Marine aviators also attacked targets in close 

proximity and direct support of security patrols and 

combat outposts ably defeating and dispersing Sandino’s forces—notably, at Ocotal in 1927 and Sapotillal Ridge in 1928.40 Aerial observation and res, 

augmenting ground maneuvers, and surface based 

into the operations of the campaign subsequently allowed the number of Marines and sailors required in 

Nicaragua to be decreased. Specically, from February to December 1929, the 2d Brigade’s total strength 

was reduced by almost two-thirds.31 e Guardia 

Nacional, by the summer of 1930, conducted the 

majority of security and stability operations as Marines and sailors provided transition assistance and 

served as the “ready reserve” force.32

By the end of 1932, the Guardia Nacional assumed 

all responsibilities for maintaining security and 

stability in Nicaragua, and on 2 January 1933, the 

Nicaraguan Campaign ended as the last of the Marines and sailors departed Nicaragua for the United 

States.33 Military operations subsequently waned in 

attractiveness leading up to the 1932 elections that 

brought conservative party leader, Juan B. Sacasa, 

back to the head of government as the Nicaraguan 

Campaign ended.34

Testing the MAGTF:

Combined-Arms Operations

and the Single Battle

Up to this point in history, the Marine Corps had not 

been able to leverage the full energy of the MAGTF 

as Marine aviation had been in its infancy. e series 

of operations that consumed the preponderance of 

the Nicaraguan Campaign demonstrated the eectiveness of the “air-ground team,” linking aviation 

operations to the ground scheme of maneuver and 

coupled with supporting logistical sustainment. e 

Marine air squadron, commanded by Major Rowell, 

combined aerial observation, ground attack, and air 

transport aviation operations to increase the combat 

power of the Marine ground elements in squashing 

Sandino’s insurgency.35

Supporting the ground commander with infantry 

31 Gravatt, “The Marines and the Guardia Nacional de Nicaragua,” 86. 32 Ibid., 91.

33 Nalty, United States Marines in Nicaragua, 34. 34 Ibid.

35 Rowell, “Annual Report of Aircraft Squadrons,” 248.

36 Ibid., 249.

37 Ibid., 249–50.

38 Ibid., 252.

39 Lt Col Edward C. Johnson, Marine Corps Aviation: The Early Years, 1912–1940 (Washington, DC: History and Museums Division, Headquarters 

Marine Corps, 1977), 57.

40 Capt G. D. Hatfield, “Attack on Ocotal,” The Sandino Rebellion, Patrol and Combat Reports, July 1927, 3, http://www.sandinorebellion.com/pcdocs/1927/PC270716-Hatfield.html. “The air attack was the deciding factor in our favor, for almost immediately the firing slackened and troops 

began to withdraw.” See Rowell, “Annual Report of Aircraft Squadrons,” 254–55.
Summer 2016 63

nel and supplies to combat outposts, Marine aviation delivered “2,000 pounds of cargo or eight fully 

equipped Marines per ight” in about “one hour and 

40 minutes.”43 By the end of the campaign, Marine 

aviation had made contact with the enemy 300 times 

and transported 20,749 passengers and 6.5 million 

pounds of cargo in 31,296 sorties in support of the 

2d Brigade and Guardia Nacional operations on the 

ground.44

e eective use of aerial observation, ground 

attack, and air transport operations reinforced the 

2d Brigade’s capabilities to rapidly locate and strike 

Sandino’s forces with a relative combat power advantage at the times and places of the Marines’ choosing. 

e combined eects of aviation and ground combat 

forces not only successfully outpaced Sandino’s insurgency and proved the worth of functioning as a 

capable air-ground team, but the synergy gained in 

this new concept, the MAGTF, proved its worth for 

future Marine Corps’ operating concepts. 

e 2d Brigade executed a successful campaign in 

Nicaragua by not only employing the Guardia Nacional and conducting oensive operations to frustrate Sandino’s rebellion but also by incorporating 

its new air-ground team in combat operations. e 

operations of the six-year campaign ably displaced 

res minimized Sandino’s ability to mass and organize his forces and provided the ground combat 

elements with a distinct combat advantage on the 

battleeld.

Transporting supplies and personnel using Marine aviation “broadened and increased” the 2d Brigade’s operating zone and eciency. According to 

Major Rowell, “there is not a military situation on 

record where the air transport service has had such 

a valuable and important part.”41 e introduction 

and use of the Atlantic-Fokker C-2 transport aircra 

gave the 2d Brigade a distinct logistical advantage 

over Sandino’s rebels in many aspects:

Entire garrisons in the most remote localities 

[depended] wholly on the transports for supply, 

an entire regimental headquarters was transported to the front, minor troop movements 

[were] eected, the sick and wounded [were] 

evacuated, casual ocer and enlisted [were] 

carried, the mail [was] delivered and emergency articles and materials of every conceivable 

nature [were] delivered with the greatest speed 

and safety.42

Additionally, in contrast with mule trains that 

spent 10 days to three months delivering personOfficial U.S. Marine Corps photo

Marines load an Atlantic-Fokker C-2 transport plane with supplies for Marine ground troops. The tractor and 

trailer were used to carry equipment and supplies overland.

41 Rowell, “Annual Report of Aircraft Squadrons,” 252.

42 Ibid.

43 Johnson, Marine Corps Aviation, 57. 44 Headquarters, United States Marine Corps, “Nicaraguan Aviation Report: Brief History of the Aircraft Squadrons, 2d Brigade, Marines Nicaragua” (1 March 1927–10 December 1932).
64 MCH Vol. 2, No. 1

erations with the ground scheme of maneuver proved 

that, by integrating ground and air operations, Marines were more eective in locating, disrupting, and 

defeating Sandino’s rebels—more eective than the 

conduct of each element operating separately.47 All 

in all, the functions of Marine aviation in Nicaragua 

were of primary importance to operations where delivering reinforcing troops, supplies, and res more 

quickly than could be accomplished in movements 

over the land, proving the worth of not only Marine 

aviation but the relevance and power of the MAGTF 

in combat. 

ough the campaign conducted in Nicaragua 

from 1927 to 1933 failed to bring lasting peace to 

Nicaragua, the Marines and sailors successfully prevented a civil war and provided a stable environment 

by which the Nicaraguan government grew its military and economy. For the Marine Corps, the campaign proved that “Marine aviators and infantrymen 

[could function] smoothly as a unied team.”48 us, 

the MAGTF was conceived and the resulting synergistic mechanisms of the new air-ground team provided the basis for how the MAGTF would ght in 

future wars. s1775s

Sandino’s rebels from the populated areas of Nicaragua “to achieve [a] stable and secure environment 

needed for eective governance, essential services, 

and economic development.”45 Historic parallels are 

easily made between the Nicaraguan Campaign and 

the campaigns conducted in Iraq and Afghanistan. 

e lessons herein derived are enduring and necessary for similar types of campaigns to be fought in 

the future. First, the “foreign face,” American in this 

case, oen present initially in an occupation can socially impair the views of the indigenous populace.46

Nicaraguan ocials, as well as their U.S. counterparts, were eager to establish a nonpartisan, indigenous national guard force capable of providing local 

and regional security during government development. Rapidly placing national and regional matters 

back into the hands of the Nicaraguans was integral 

to not only assisting the United States in drawing 

down its forces in Nicaragua, but also to legitimizing 

Nicaraguan sovereignty.

Second, Marine aviation was indispensable, expanded ground-based operations, and formed a 

premier ght force—the MAGTF. Combining aerial 

reconnaissance, ground attack, and air transport op45 Counterinsurgency, 5-3. 46 Smith, A Review of the Organization and Operations of the Guardia National de Nicaragua, 50. 47 Rowell, “Annual Report of Aircraft Squadrons,” 248.

48 Nalty, United States Marines in Nicaragua, 34.
valuable bone to be fought over, especially in this scally constrained environment.1

 e absorption of 

the Marine Corps into the Army in the name of scal austerity was a real possibility.

At the same time there were challenges for the 

Marines, doors of opportunity opened. e bulk of 

the Marine constabulary missions in the Caribbean, 

Central America, and China were terminated or 

downsized during this time. is freed up funds, but 

more important, it freed up personnel to be assigned 

to the dedicated amphibious forces that would be 

created. Reduced constabulary obligations also allowed the Marines to assign personnel to boards to 

work full time on all of the issues, beginning with 

doctrine, which needed to be developed to make 

the amphibious force a functioning reality. e election of Franklin D. Roosevelt as president in 1932 

was also an opportunity for the Marines. Roosevelt’s 

Good Neighbor Policy with respect to Latin America accelerated the removal of Marines from the Caribbean and Central America. e scal policies of 

the Roosevelt administration and the New Deal resulted in more military spending as part of the overall economic recovery plan. Additionally, Roosevelt 

had been assistant secretary of the Navy and was a 

staunch supporter of the Navy and Marine Corps, an 

anity that Marines used to their advantage.2

e international environment began to change as 

well, and in the early 1930s as the world began to take 

on a less benign appearance, the military in general 

and the Marines in particular would be perceived by 

the public and Congress as more important and less 

Captain Steven L. Oreck, USN (Ret)

The development of medical doctrine 

evolved during a time of great change for 

the U.S. Navy and Marine Corps. is 

second article covers the discussion from 

1930 to 1935 and continues the story regarding the 

analysis of medical doctrine within the larger scope 

of the evolution of amphibious warfare doctrine. 

Beginning in the early twentieth century (1920s), 

individuals within the Navy and Marine Corps coalesced around the issues of medical doctrine development and how best to organize it for the Marine 

Corps. ough there was debate and the writing of 

papers regarding medicine, it was not until 1927 that 

the Navy published Medical Tactics in Naval Warfare that jump-started the process of how to provide 

medical support for amphibious operations.

1930–35

e rst half of the 1930s represented a time of challenge and opportunity for the Marine Corps. e biggest obstacle for the Marines, along with every other 

institution in America, was how to survive the Great 

Depression. Under the Herbert C. Hoover administration, which had a scal policy of attempting to 

maintain a balanced budget in the face of decreasing 

tax revenues, Congress signicantly reduced funding for and the authorized strength of the Corps. Additionally the number of Marines that could actually 

be funded was less than even the reduced numbers 

theoretically authorized. Although the U.S. Army 

was not interested in the issue of amphibious assault, 

the mission of overseas expeditionary action was a 

Development of Medical Doctrine

for Amphibious Warfare by the

U.S. Navy and Marine Corps, 1930–35

1 Allan R. Millett, Semper Fidelis: The History of the United States Marine Corps (New York: Free Press, 1980), 329–30. 2 President Roosevelt’s son, James, had a great desire to be a Marine officer, and the Marines gave him a direct commission in the Marine Corps 

Reserve as a lieutenant colonel in 1936—an unprecedented move. James Roosevelt served on active duty in World War II, initially with Edson’s 

Raiders (1st Marine Raider Battalion) with distinction.

PART II

65
66 MCH Vol. 2, No. 1

have Navy as well as Marine representatives as it proceeded to develop this doctrine.5

 In October 1931, 

the Commandant replied, authorizing the formation 

of a Marine Corps board to develop a landing manual 

and permitting the assignment of Marine ocers full 

time to this board and approving at least one Navy 

member to the board. e Marines hoped that the 

assignment of a Navy member to the board would 

provide insight into Navy thinking on such subjects 

as boat manning, gunre support, and aviation. e 

correspondence, creating and modifying the board, 

made no mention of any input or discussion of medical issues associated with this new doctrine.6

 e 

Marines initially established the board in June 1931, 

and it consisted of Majors Charles D. Barrett, Lyle H. 

Miller, and Pedro A. del Valle, all who would later 

serve in WWII. In the fall, Lieutenant Walter C. Ansell, USN, was added to the board.7

 Lieutenant Ansell’s area of expertise was naval gunre.

is group of ocers, and by extension all of the 

subgroups that worked on this manual whether of-

cially assigned or (as in the case of the medical 

ocers) on their own, did not receive much in the 

way of direction from above. Major Pedro del Valle 

later explained that the members of the board had 

received little guidance, doctrine, or information on 

what to do and used studies of the British operation 

at Gallipoli, Turkey, and those studies were examples 

of what not to do.8

 At one time or another, many of-

cers were involved in shaping this document, and 

in January 1934, there was an extensive conference 

with approximately 60 ocers attending to discuss 

progress on the manual and to make sure the document was understandable by both the Navy and the 

Marine Corps. Approximately six naval ocers were 

present; however, there were no medical ocers 

present and no discussion in the minutes of any issues relating to medical aspects of amphibious landings.9

 Given the very specic purposes for which this 

superuous than in the past. Open Japanese aggression in China, beginning with the invasion of Manchuria in 1931, and the increasingly hostile posture 

of Japan vis-à-vis the other powers with concessions 

and interests in China eventually resulted in “accidents,” such as the attack on the USS Panay (PR 5). 

ese incidents ratcheted up tensions in the Pacic. 

Japanese departure from the League of Nations only 

supported those who felt that, sooner or later, the 

United States and Japan were going to come to violence to settle issues of Pacic and Asian spheres of 

inuence. While Italy’s invasion of Ethiopia, which 

included the use of poison gas, was disturbing—and 

even though thoughtful individuals had concerns 

about the ascension of Adolf Hitler and the Nazis 

to power in Germany—the Navy and Marine Corps 

were much more focused on the Pacic.

During the rst half of the 1930s, the Marines’ 

commitment to becoming the amphibious warfare 

specialists intensied. During the late 1920s, the 

Joint Board had formally given the mission to the 

Marines. Colonel Ellis B. Miller had begun in the late 

1920s to reorient the Marine Corps’ schools toward 

landing operations.3

 Not only had the intellectual reorientation continued and expanded, but the physical structure of the Marines also changed to provide 

a permanent and signicant amphibious force. e 

Marines and Navy reinstituted landing exercises, and 

these became a signicant annual event. As funding 

became available, and in spite of the looser purse 

under the Roosevelt administration, funding was by 

no means generous at this time, the Marines strove 

to obtain the tools needed to equip the amphibious 

force to carry out the newly developed doctrines.

In 1931, the commander of the Marine Corps 

Schools at Quantico and the Commandant of the 

Marine Corps discussed the need for developing 

doctrine for landing operations.4

 Subsequent correspondence elucidated the requirement that the board 

3 Leo J. Daugherty III, Pioneers of Amphibious Warfare, 1898–1945: Profiles of Fourteen American Military Strategists (Jefferson, NC: McFarland 

& Co., 2009), 225.

4 Charles F. B. Price to Board of Officers for the Development of the Text on Landing Operations, 17 April 1931, Historical Amphibious File, Gen 

Alfred M. Gray Research Center (GRC), Marine Corps University (MCU), Quantico, VA.

5 BGen R. C. Berkeley, memorandum, 3 June 1931, Historical Amphibious File, GRC, MCU, Quantico, VA.

6 “Text for Landing Operations,” 20 October 1931, Historical Amphibious File, GRC, MCU, Quantico, VA.

7 Tom Fitzpatrick, A Character that Inspired: Major General Charles D. Barrett, USMC, Amphibious Pioneer (self-published, 2003), 320. 8 Daugherty, Pioneers of Amphibious Warfare, 279. 9 “Proceedings for Conference held at the Marine Corps Schools, Quantico, VA., on Tuesday, January 7, 1934, for the purpose of discussing, approving or commenting on the various headings and sub-headings of the tentative Landing Operations Manual, prepared by the Marine Corps 

Schools, and what it should include,” 7 January 1934, Historical Amphibious File, GRC, MCU, Quantico, VA.
Summer 2016 67

and provisions for evacuation of severely injured and 

convalescence for those capable of return to duty.11

Planners based casualty estimates on the Gallipoli 

experience calculated by planners to be 15 percent of 

the force landed on the rst day, 10 percent of the 

total force landed over the rst three days, and four 

wounded in action for every one individual killed in 

action. No estimates were made to account for disease and nonbattle injuries among personnel of the 

landing force.12 e need for an ambulance service, 

collecting stations for the wounded, and eventual onshore hospital facilities were mentioned but not fully 

dened. Compared to the detail in most of the other aspects of an amphibious landing covered in this 

manual, coverage of the medical issues is both scant 

and incomplete. e medical paragraphs appear to 

have been cobbled together from other publications 

or informal conversations rather than as the result of 

detailed study and discussion by experts.

At the same time, the Marines at Quantico were 

beginning to put together a theoretical basis for an 

amphibious landing force; the Marines were also 

formally redening themselves. On 17 August 1933, 

the Commandant of the Marine Corps (CMC) wrote 

to the chief of naval operations (CNO) requesting 

that the name of the Marine expeditionary force 

be changed to the Fleet Marine Force.13 e CNO 

concurred, and on 8 December 1933, Navy General Order 241 created the FMF.14 By emphasizing its 

connection to the eet, and with the further emphasis on seizing bases for the eet, the Marine Corps 

had helped to ensure Navy support in any future 

battles against being incorporated into the Army.

While all of these changes, both doctrinal and organizational, were occurring in the Corps, parallel 

changes were occurring in Navy medical support to 

the Marines. ese medical changes were truly parallel. ere is no evidence that there was ever any 

attempt by higher authorities in the Marines or the 

Navy to create a formal board to evaluate the medical needs of amphibious operations. An ocial plan 

of coordination was not created to ensure that mediconference was held, the lack of discussion of any aspect of medical services for an amphibious landing 

is dicult to understand, although not surprising.

In response to a query in the 1970s from a Marine 

Corps archivist, Rear Admiral Ansel, who as a lieutenant had been the sole Navy representative on the 

original board stated that

I can recall no talk about casualties and their 

handling at Quantico; no one was responsible 

for this subject—which now seems incomprehensible. We were all on the oensive. e talk 

we [he and General del Valle] recalled included 

that returning boats (from the assault) were 

to be available for casualty return, and at the 

mother ship the boats with the casualties were 

to be hoisted with the wounded in them.10

e ocers who made up the original board, and 

those who worked with them and/or attended the 

conference in 1934, all had the benet of numerous 

detailed and critical analyses of the Gallipoli operation to study. ese analyses showed that the medical 

component of the operation was a complete disaster, 

especially during the assault phase and for some time 

thereaer. In an impressive (or perhaps depressive) 

example of groupthink, all of the Navy and Marine 

line ocers were willing to accept that the spectrum 

of medical care, including supply, evacuation, and 

treatment, would “just happen” without some sort of 

integrated doctrinal and planning process.

e Marines published the initial tentative manual 

in 1934 for internal use at the Marine Corps Schools. 

A year later, the Marines republished the manual for 

Corps-wide use. Chapter IX of the Manual for Landing Operations dealt with logistic and support issues 

and contained a few brief paragraphs concerning 

medical issues. Paragraph 53 described needs for 

medical planning, which included normal Fleet Marine Force (FMF) medical units and eet units and 

additional hospital ships; conversion of transports 

for movement of the wounded, personnel, and equipment for ambulance boats and shore (beach) parties; 

10 RAdm Walter Ansel, USN (Ret), “Letter to John B. McClurkin, librarian Marine Corps Archives, Quantico: casualty handling during development 

of landing force manual tentative,” 21 March 1971, Historical Amphibious File, GRC, MCU, Quantico, VA.

11 “Tentative Manual for Landing Operations (1935),” 1934, Historical Amphibious File, GRC, MCU, Quantico, VA, 295.

12 Ibid., 296.

13 Acting MGen J. T. Russell to Chief of Naval Operations, 17 August 1933, Joel T. Boone Papers, Library of Congress, Washington, DC.

14 Jeter A. Isley and Philip A. Crowl, U.S. Marines and Amphibious War: Its Theory and Its Practice in the Pacific (Princeton: Princeton University 

Press, 1951), 34.
68 MCH Vol. 2, No. 1

cal input was available to the Marines landing manual group when needed or that the medical thinkers 

were kept abreast of the evolution of Marine doctrine. It is clear that medical ocers involved with 

the Corps kept themselves informed about what 

was going on, recognized some of the problems that 

needed to be solved, and worked to devise solutions.

In August 1931, as the Marines were developing the tentative landing manual, Navy Captain R. 

Hayden, of the Medical Corps and post surgeon 

at Quantico, wrote two letters to the commanding 

general of the Quantico base.15 In these letters, Captain Hayden evaluated the plan of medical support 

for the expeditionary brigade. In essence, he found 

that the plan of support was inadequate in concept, 

personnel, and equipment. He made several recommendations, among them increasing the number of 

personnel, modularizing the attached base hospital 

set so that it could be split into two independent 

units, and upgrading the equipment.16 is was to 

be the rst of a series of recommendations made 

by a succession of medical ocers for changing the 

medical support structure to better serve the needs 

of an evolving Marine Corps. Captain Hayden made 

an important point that his proposals would need 

to be modied in case the brigade was engaged in 

major combat. is was distinctly dierent than the 

requirements for the low-level combat that had been 

typical for the Marines since the end of WWI.

e medical personnel supporting the Marines, 

and much of the medically related supplies and 

equipment to support the Marines, came from the 

Navy, therefore there was a system of dual control 

of medical personnel and assets. Once the Navy 

agreed to supply personnel or materiel to the Marines, the Corps could distribute them as it saw t; 

however, the Navy, through the Bureau of Medicine 

and Surgery (BUMED), made the decisions about 

lling the requests for personnel and materiel. is 

system, which persists to the present day, has always 

had a certain degree of friction in it, and this friction increases especially during peacetime and resources are constrained. is explains the prompt 

September 1931 response to the recommendations 

of Captain Hayden from BUMED. Navy Captain 

Irving W. Chambers, who was both knowledgeable 

about and sympathetic to Marine Corps medical 

needs, sent back the following reply from BUMED 

to Captain Hayden: “e nancial end of the Bureau 

cannot stand the purchase of such a large amount of 

equipment, chests, etc., for peace time as proposed 

in the tables you submitted.”17 is issue of peacetime funding of medical supplies and equipment for 

potential wartime use reoccurred oen.

e scal constraints placed on BUMED did 

not mean that the Navy Medical Department was 

unaware that the organization of support for Marine expeditionary forces was inadequate, which 

had been an issue since the 1920s. It should be emphasized that Captain Chambers did not think the 

changes requested by Captain Hayden were excessive or inappropriate—BUMED just did not have the 

nancial resources to buy expensive medical equipment. e surgeon general of the Navy was directly 

involved and, on 28 September 1931, Rear Admiral 

Charles E. Riggs, surgeon general of the Navy, wrote 

to the Major General Commandant “. . . it will be 

readily seen that the medical facilities provided in 

the Marine Corps peace strength organization tables 

for reinforced Infantry Brigade appears to be entirely inadequate.”18 e frustration behind the correspondence in the fall of 1931 between BUMED 

and the Marines is evident; there was a problem and 

it was not trivial. Both the medical sta attached to 

the Marines and the sta at BUMED, including the 

surgeon general, agreed that stang and equipment 

for Marine medical support were inadequate. ere 

was agreement that the proposed changes were reasonable and appropriate. Unfortunately, resource 

constraints imposed by Congress did not allow the 

deciencies to be corrected.

Over and over again, a singular fact about medical 

15 Currently, and for more than 30 years, there has been the position of medical officer of the Marine Corps. This doctor is on the staff of the 

Commandant, and one of his duties is to pass to the Commandant changes in medical force structure with his recommendations. In the 1930s, 

no such position existed, and at least in 1931, the post surgeon at Quantico was functionally the most senior doctor serving with the Marines 

and had a responsibility for forwarding such doctrinal and structural items.

16 Capt R. Hayden, (MC) USN, to Medical Department, 20 August 1931, Record Group (RG) 52, National Archives, Washington, DC; and Capt R. 

Hayden (MC) USN, “Letter: Tables of personnel and material allowances, medical department, to accompany U.S. Marine Corps expeditionary 

forces,” 21 August 1931, RG 52, National Archives, Washington, DC.

17 Capt William Chambers, (MC) USN, to Capt R. Hayden, 28 September 1931, RG 52, National Archives, Washington, DC.

18 RAdm C. E. Riggs, (MC) USN, to MajGen Commandant, 28 September 1931, RG 52, National Archives, Washington, DC.
Summer 2016 69

support for combat operations was made clear, and 

while it was the Marines in particular examined in 

detail, it also applied to combat medical support for 

the Navy itself. To have adequate materiel on hand to 

support combat is expensive in peacetime. Drugs and 

other supplies reach the end of their useful life and 

equipment may become obsolete before it is ever used. 

All medical personnel, ocer and enlisted, are highly 

trained and valuable assets and expensive to support. 

Even if they are working in a normal medical capacity 

most of the time, the time needed to train for and to 

learn how to function in the eld environment, which 

is time away from normal medical duties, represents 

a signicant expense. Adequate training and materiel is absolutely essential to provide ecient, or even 

adequate, medical care from the rst day of combat. 

While medical personnel and equipment and supplies can be expanded as a force expands, providing 

for day one wartime needs in the face of competing 

peacetime priorities is a signicant problem.19

Although Captain Chambers may have been the 

messenger bearing the bad news, he was well aware of 

the problems caused by these gaps. In 1932, he submitted a secret report to the director of the War Plans Division in the Oce of the Chief of Naval Operations. 

e Orange War Plan needs of Marine forces were analyzed by Captain Chambers, as well as the necessary 

hospital ships and transports (class A and B ships).20

He noted the signicant number of vessels required, as 

well as an overage for up to 15 percent more casualties 

in case estimates were low, and also the possibility of 

losing some of the ships.21 To keep facilities available 

for the Marines in the land-based forward expeditionary hospital, Captain Chambers recommended that 

hospital ships be used to care for most Navy casualties.

In early 1933, Captain Chambers prepared a report that was sent to the senior echelons of BUMED 

concerning the medical organizations for the Marine 

Corps. In addition to suggestions for reorganization 

of the medical battalion, Chambers’ suggestions also 

included increasing the number of personnel in the 

battalion and adding a supplementary 50-bed hospital if needed in combat against an “organized” enemy.22 He described the current plan as inadequate 

even in peacetime. is report, and his letter concerning hospital ship requirements for a war with 

Japan, made it clear that his response to Captain 

Hayden was not his personal view but rather an of-

cial response of BUMED.

Captain Chambers was not considering his suggested changes in a vacuum. In April and May of 

1933, Captain Hayden responded to Chamber’s recommendations. Hayden agreed with most of the 

recommendations and specically commented that 

they were adequate for peacetime activities but only 

if the Marines provided personnel to support the 

medical unit and perform nonmedical duties. He 

also suggested that the collecting companies be enlarged, and wanted to be clear that his approval and 

suggestions were provisional and subject to change 

upon further analysis and the result of eld exercises.23 As an example of how valuable exercise experience was in the development of doctrine, Captain 

Hayden urged that the medical elements of the brigade and their equipment be divided among two or 

more ships, citing the experience of a 1932 exercise 

o Hawaii, where the ship carrying all of the Army 

medical personnel and their equipment was ruled to 

have been torpedoed and sunk.24

e senior medical ocer for the Marine forces 

19 While doctors (and other medical professionals) can be added to the force when war starts, they need basic military training and then specific 

field training to be effective in the Marine Corps (or even afloat/Navy) environment. Enlisted (corpsman) training, both basic and field, is also 

time consuming. Providing adequately trained medical personnel for an expanding force will trend behind overall expansion.

20 Orange War Plans refers to a series of Joint Army-Navy plans for dealing with a potential war with Japan.

21 Capt William Chambers, (MC) USN, memorandum, 28 May 1932, RG 52, National Archives, Washington, DC.

22 Capt William Chambers, (MC) USN, to BUMED, 28 September 1931, RG 52, National Archives, Washington, DC.

23 Collecting companies were part of the medical battalion and were the intermediate step between the aid stations and the hospital company. 

Here casualties were further sorted, received additional medical treatment as needed (but not surgery), and then triaged for further treatment at 

the hospital company, temporary holding, or return to duty. See Cdr W. L. Mann, (MC) USN, Medical Tactics in Naval Warfare. 24 Capt R. Hayden (MC) to Commandant, USMC, 13 April 1933, RG 52, National Archives, Washington, DC; and Capt R. Hayden (MC) to Commandant, USMC, 10 May 1933, RG 52, National Archives, Washington, DC. The request for Marines to be not just collocated with a medical unit 

but to be assigned and under the command and control of the medical unit is an important issue. The number of enlisted personnel assigned to 

a medical unit is based on the medical tasks the unit is designed to perform. If medical personnel (corpsmen) have to be used for nonmedical 

tasks, such as ambulance drivers or sentries, this reduces the ability of the unit to perform its designed function. A separate Marine unit attached 

to a medical unit (e.g., a service company) results in a divided command where the commander of the service unit makes the decision on what 

tasks his Marines will or will not perform and when, rather than the commander of the medical unit; the effectiveness then depends upon individual cooperation that may not be present.
70 MCH Vol. 2, No. 1

participating in the 1932 exercise in Hawaii was 

Navy Lieutenant Commander Walter A. Vogelsang. 

He had prepared two alternative plans as annexes 

to the eld order, which dealt with both the simulated combat aspects of the exercise and the need to 

provide actual medical care to anyone who became 

sick or injured. He created a detailed plan of casualty 

ow, using maps of the exercise area to locate and 

identify collection points, beach evacuation stations, 

and ambulance routes. A eld hospital was scheduled to be landed and set up, supplies to be on hand 

were dened, and a medical chain of command with 

specic responsibilities was established. In addition 

to planning for the possibility of real casualties, appropriate preventive measures (e.g., sanitation requirements and immunizations) were dened.25

is medical annex was remarkably similar to one 

that would be produced today for a similar exercise 

and demonstrates the expertise of Lieutenant Commander Vogelsang, as there was no le of annexes 

from past exercises or some standard dened format 

for such annexes available for reference.

With the creation of the FMF, the Navy created 

the post of FMF medical ocer. As a specialty of-

cer on the sta of the commanding general, the 

force medical ocer had responsibility for the dayto-day health of the force, via the subordinate regimental and battalion physicians, but also for medical 

planning that included determining the stang and 

equipping of the medical units attached to the FMF. 

e rst FMF medical ocer was Navy Lieutenant 

Commander W. J. C. Agnew. Lieutenant Commander Agnew had previously served with the Marines 

as a regimental surgeon. He wasted no time moving 

forward and, in December 1933, sent two letters up 

the chain of command to the commanding general, 

FMF, with recommendations for organizing the various medical units or detachments that would serve 

with the FMF. In particular, he recommended two 

doctors and 16 corpsmen for an infantry battalion, 

with half of the corpsmen to be at the battalion aid 

station (BAS) and the others with the companies. 

One of the doctors could be “temporary,” but the 

senior of the two was to be permanent. Noninfantry units or “special troops” were to be assigned one 

doctor and eight corpsmen. ese recommendations were worked out in conjunction with the post 

surgeon, Navy Captain A. H. Allen, and the post 

sanitary ocer, Navy Lieutenant (junior grade) R. E. 

Fielding.26

Lieutenant Commander Agnew continued to 

work on a functional design of the medical support 

for the FMF, and the next target was the eld hospital. In December 1933, Lieutenant Commander 

Agnew sent a memo to Major Harry K. Pickett, 

located at Headquarters Marine Corps (HQMC), 

about logistic and support issues. e recommendation was to increase personnel and equipment so 

that the eld hospital could be modularized and dispersed as three smaller but freestanding units if necessary.27 Major Pickett passed these and subsequent 

suggestions up the chain as well as recommending 

that Lieutenant Commander Agnew and others review the experience of the 3d Marine Regiment in 

China to devise the new system. Eventually, Pickett 

received the following direction on how to proceed 

from Major Leander A. Clapp: “Have interviewed 

[Brigadier] General [C. H.] Lyman [commanding 

general, FMF] on the matter and he doesn’t mind as 

to how you arrange it, but wants to assure the exibility as outlined in Agnew’s report . . . I frankly admit my knowledge is limited on the matter.”28

e response of Brigadier General Lyman, with 

Major Clapp’s additional comments, typies the 

Marine response to issues of medical support. e 

Navy provided medical personnel and supplies to 

25 LCdr W. A. Vogelsang, (MC) USN, “First Marine Division/Blue Expeditionary Force, Annex No. 3 to Administrative Order No. 1: Plan of Sanitation and Medical Plan-General (Constructive),” 26 December 1931, Historical Amphibious File, GRC, MCU, Quantico, VA; and LCdr W. A. Vogelsang, (MC) USN, “First Marine Division/Blue Expeditionary Force, Annex No. 1 to Administrative Orders No. 2: Plan of Evacuation, Hospitalization 

and Medical Supply,” 16 January 1932, Historical Amphibious File, GRC, MCU, Quantico, VA..

26 LCdr W. J. C. Agnew, (MC) USN, to Maj Harry K. Pickett, USMC, 28 December 1933, RG 127, National Archives, Washington, DC; and LCdr 

W. J. C. Agnew, (MC) USN, to Commanding General, FMF, 18 December 1933, RG 52, National Archives, Washington, DC. Current staffing of a 

Marine infantry battalion (deployed) is two medical officers and approximately 60 enlisted corpsmen. Approximately 20–25 corpsmen would be 

assigned to the BAS, and the others assigned as platoon/company corpsmen. When not deployed, a battalion usually has only one doctor, the 

second being assigned prior to deployment. 

27 LCdr W. J. C. Agnew, (MC) USN, to Maj Harry K. Pickett, 6 February 1934, 5 March 1934, RG 127, National Archives, Washington, DC.

28 Maj H. K. Pickett, USMC, to Maj Leander Clapp, 26 February 1934, RG 127, National Archives, Washington, DC; and Maj Leander A. Clapp, 

USMC, to Maj H. K. Pickett, 7 March 1934, RG 127, National Archives, Washington, DC.
Summer 2016 71

the Marine Corps. Most Marines, like Major Clapp, 

felt out of their depth when dealing with matters of 

medical support. As a result, the Marines were more 

than happy to leave the details of making medical support happen up to the Navy, as long as the 

plans made some logical sense and did not impose 

what the Marines considered unrealistic demands 

in terms of shipping space or Marine assets, such 

as personnel or equipment. As long as the Marine 

commanders had condence in their assigned medical ocers, the doctors had the green light to create solutions to the problems with little interference. 

Only when plans seemed to make no sense or when 

support failed did line ocers tend to get directly involved. is attitude was both a blessing and a curse. 

It gave the medical ocers independence to devise 

solutions, yet denied them signicant institutional 

support. e solution to the curse was to network 

with like-minded medical ocers who faced similar 

problems.

Even today, in a much larger U.S. Navy and Marine 

Corps, the number of medical ocers assigned to 

the Marines is not signicant. ose medical ocers 

with multiple Marine tours comprise an even smaller 

group. In the naval establishment of the 1930s, most 

medical ocers who had multiple or senior assignments with the Marines knew each other by reputation at least. Given the limited geography of where 

medical ocers assigned to the Marines were stationed, the opportunity for informal get-togethers at 

the ocers’ club or elsewhere was important. Medical 

ocers on a base, such as Quantico, even if not working in the same building, had many opportunities 

for informal networking. Almost all of those ocers 

involved in this network had multiple tours with the 

Marines as well as operational experience. is combination gave them both an appreciation for the medical problems (combat and noncombat) of deployed 

Marines, as well as insight into the tactical realities 

that planners had to take into account.

An example of this sort of networking is the response to a letter sent by Major Pickett to then 

Commander Vogelsang. Vogelsang, who was then 

assigned to duty at Naval Hospital San Diego and the 

USS Maryland (BB 46), was asked his opinion about 

the proposals put forward by Lieutenant Commander Agnew for the hospital support of the FMF eld 

hospital units. Commander Vogelsang emphasized 

the need to keep the larger unit on the table of organization (T/O) as it would be needed in a wartime 

situation, although not necessarily for peacetime operations, which included operations like Nicaragua 

and China. In his letter, Vogelsang cited the example of the medical disaster at Gallipoli—which was 

partly due to having inadequate facilities for medical 

care—and the lack of adequate facilities would have 

resulted in a failure to provide adequate care even 

had there been proper planning in other respects 

and excellent Army-Navy cooperation.29

In June 1934, Navy Captain William L. Mann Jr. 

was once again at Quantico, now as the post surgeon. From this date until the entry of the United 

States into WWII, he was intimately involved with 

the Marines and the continuing evolution of medical doctrine for amphibious warfare. It did not take 

Mann long to roll up his sleeves and get to work. 

In August 1934, he sent a lengthy memo to Brigadier General Lyman. Captain Mann drove home the 

point that medical care for an amphibious assault 

was quite dierent from that for a land campaign, 

as a result, required specialized doctrine, personnel, 

and equipment. Simply copying the Army’s methods 

would not do.

One of the essential dierences in care between the 

Army and Marines involved the treatment of wounded in the assault phase. Shore-to-ship movement 

could be problematic, and therefore, it was essential 

that some medical capability go ashore early. Captain 

Mann claried both the problem and its potential solution: “e history of amphibious warfare . . . shows 

conclusively that the medical assistance of forces 

aoat available to the shore units is frequently UNRELIABLE and UNDEPENDABLE.”30 To establish 

medical care ashore, Mann urged that all equipment 

packs for the BAS be no more than 40–50 pounds so 

that they would be man-portable. Like most of his 

fellow Marine-oriented medical ocers, Mann invoked military history, most specically Gallipoli but 

also the experience of the Spanish-American War, to 

buttress his arguments.

Captain Mann followed up on this issue of equipment. In December 1934, he wrote to HQMC con29 Cdr Walter A. Vogelsang, (MC) USN, to Maj H. K. Pickett, 22 May 1934, RG 127, National Archives, Washington, DC.

30 Capt W. L. Mann, (MC) USN, to BGen C. H. Lyman, 15 August 1934, RG 52, National Archives, Washington, DC.
72 MCH Vol. 2, No. 1

cerning the proposed equipment sets for the FMF 

that had been recommended by Lieutenant Commander Agnew. e paperwork for these changes 

had been on Captain Mann’s desk when he arrived 

to take over as post surgeon. He noted that many 

items issued to FMF units at present were based on 

the 1927 equipment tables.31

In January 1935, the Navy and Marine Corps began to test the new doctrine they were creating. e 

rst eet landing exercise (FLEX 1) was held from 15 

January to 15 March 1935, around Culebra, Puerto 

Rico.32 Initially held once a year during the winter, 

FLEXs were held in the Caribbean and on the West 

Coast to create an opportunity to train sailors and 

Marines, to identify problems, and hopefully to test 

proposed solutions the following year.33 e vital role 

the FLEXs were to play in the renement of doctrine, 

tactics, and equipment for all aspects of amphibious 

warfare, including medical, cannot be exaggerated. 

As one of the senior Marine commanders of WWII, 

General Holland M. Smith would later state in his 

postwar history of the development of amphibious 

warfare that “provisions for realistic, full scale joint 

training, which with experience is the only method 

for achieving that full measure of coordination necessary to success.”34 Due to constraints in ship availability, limiting the size of the assault forces and 

constraining personnel availability, equipment, and 

budgets, many aspects of FLEX 1 had to be simulated using constructive forces.35

e widespread use of constructive forces goes 

against General Smith’s dictum for realistic full-scale 

training and violates the military aphorism of “train 

like you ght.” In spite of the many limitations built 

into FLEX 1 before the exercise began, it did provide 

valuable experience and showed a commitment to 

make the amphibious-oriented Marine Corps a reality. By 1935, the Marines and the medical ocers 

who were working to solve their piece of the puzzle 

had the opportunity to thoroughly analyze both Gallipoli and the German assault on the Baltic Islands 

and hopefully could test, evaluate, and rene the 

cycle, avoiding most of the mistakes in those campaigns.

In March 1935, the medical ocers involved in 

FLEX 1 submitted a condential, classied report 

on the medical aspects of the exercise. e involved 

physicians included the battalion surgeons of the 1st 

and 2d Battalions of the 5th Marines, the regimental 

surgeon of the 5th Marines, and the force surgeon. 

e report contained a summary of actual medical 

care delivered during the exercise; both preventive 

measures and treatment of sick or injured were considered adequate. However, the rest of the report 

was much less positive. One major problem was the 

personnel issue. ere were inadequate numbers of 

personnel overall, and many individuals were transferred to the units shortly before the exercise, which 

prevented adequate training and integration, and 

then many were transferred out immediately following the exercise, which wasted the training eort. 

During the exercise, there was a lack of realistic casualty drills, limiting the training of the corpsmen 

and the ability to test the systems established for 

casualty care and transportation. Finally, there were 

signicant problems with the equipment. e packs 

were too bulky to be manhandled (as noted earlier 

by Captain Mann), and the kits carried by the corpsmen were awkward and did not contain the right 

mix of supplies and equipment.36 ese complaints 

were uniform across all levels of the medical department participating in the exercise.

Given that FLEX 1 was the rst major landing exercise in 10 years, and the landing manual was still 

a work in progress, the Marines were not going to 

release it Corps wide until later in 1935. Some of the 

issues raised in the special reports should have been, 

at least in theory, relatively easy to x. Given the 

31 Capt W. L. Mann, (MC) USN, to Headquarters Marine Corps, 8 December 1934, RG 127, National Archives, Washington, DC.

32 Millett, Semper Fidelis, 337. 33 Isley and Crowl, U.S. Marines and Amphibious War, 46. 34 Gen Holland M. Smith, USMC (Ret), The Development of Amphibious Tactics in the U.S. Navy (Washington, DC: Headquarters Marine Corps, 

History and Museums Division,1992), 6.

35 Constructive forces is the term used at the time to describe the use of a portion of a unit to represent the entire unit. This allowed an exercise 

to work with smaller numbers of personnel and still preserve some elements of realism, as opposed to simulated units where no personnel 

are used. Constructive forces represent a compromise and do not provide the experience for participants or the data for analysis that using a 

complete unit does.

36 “Special Reports submitted by Fleet Marine Force on U.S. Fleet Landing Exercise No. 1 Culebra, P. R., February 1935 {Confidential},” March 

1935, RG 127, National Archives, Washington, DC.
Summer 2016 73

overall Navy shortage of enlisted medical personnel, 

lling the T/O of the units may not have been possible, but the manning could have been improved by 

assigning more personnel on a temporary basis or 

with some shuing of priorities. Also, if it was necessary to use personnel assigned on temporary duty, 

having them arrive in time for adequate pre-exercise 

training and integration should have been arranged. 

Medical personnel without proper eld training 

not only limit the ability of the exercise to test doctrine and methods but can also become a hindrance. 

Given the importance of realistic medical drills in 

casualty movement and treatment, incorporating 

medical planners in the creation of the schedule for 

the next FLEX could be done easily.

Regarding equipment, the problems were at least 

partially identied. Redoing the packing of equipment sets into man-portable units required planning 

and eort but other than containers required no new 

purchases. Captain Mann and others had commented that the medical equipment needed to be organized so that the packs could be carried by one or 

two men.37 Overly heavy or bulky ones were dicult 

if not impossible to transport in an assault. Creating 

new kits to be carried by the corpsmen would also be 

a relatively easy x. 

However, to solve the equipment issue now that it 

had been identied, somebody had to take ownership of the problem. Given the dual nature necessary to control the medical personnel and material 

assets in support of the Marines discussed previously, equipment issues became orphans. e Marine 

Corps Equipment Board, created in 1935 by Marine 

Corps Order 87, had the special task of evaluating 

new and current equipment with regard to its suitability for use in amphibious landings. Similar to 

the board established to create the tentative landing 

manual, no Navy medical sta was represented here 

either, at least initially.38

A good start had been made by the Marines and 

their Navy doctors in developing the theory for amphibious warfare, and they were beginning to test 

it. General Smith summed up the state of the art in 

1935, “Between 1920 and 1935 a landing operations 

doctrine was developed and an organization established with which to test it.”39 e foundation for a 

network of Navy medical ocers committed to developing medical doctrine and tactics for amphibious 

warfare had been established. e names of Mann, 

Vogelsang, and Chambers led the eld in 1935, with 

the mantle of primus inter pares (rst among equals)

falling on the shoulders of Captain W. L. Mann. Some 

of the doctors active through the early 1930s moved 

on to other duties, and new men replaced them, but it 

always remained a fairly small group known to each 

other professionally if not personally.

e FMF moved from Quantico to San Diego, 

California. is represented the prevailing view, 

especially in the Navy and Marine Corps, that the 

Pacic was expected to be the center of any future 

conict. e focus was clearly on the Orange War 

Plans and the Empire of Japan.

In 1930, the international scene was dominated 

by the Great Depression, and war was not seen to 

be something to be overly concerned about. By the 

middle of the decade, Fascist Italy was using naked 

military force, including gas warfare, to expand its 

empire, and Nazi Germany had made clear its intentions to rearm. e Versailles Treaty (1919) and the 

system of international relations based upon it lay in 

the dust. If there were issues, Hitler and Italy’s Benito 

Mussolini were Europe’s problems, and the United 

States was rmly against becoming involved yet 

again in the diculties of Europe. However, in the 

Pacic and in Asia, Japan was on the march. Japan 

had not only absorbed Manchuria (now Manchukuo) but was directly penetrating into China. Unlike 

Germany and Italy, Japan could not be written o as 

someone else’s problem. As you will continue to read 

in the third and nal part of this series, there was yet 

much work to do, and the time in which to perform 

the work was shorter than anyone realized. s1775s

37 All boats used for landings at this time required the men to climb over the sides to debark on the beach. Anything that could not be handled 

by one or two men would not be usable during an assault phase but would have to wait until larger craft or barges could approach the beach.

38 Fitzpatrick, A Character that Inspired, 334. 39 Smith, The Development of Amphibious Tactics, 18.
Edited and with an introduction by David J. Ulbrich*

Before reading the text and editorial annotations on the memorandum and its enclosure, the author—omas Holcomb—must 

be placed in his proper context.1

Aer receiving his commission in 1900, Holcomb served in several assignments with the North 

Atlantic Fleet, in the Philippines, and in China, 

where he eventually commanded the Marine Detachment, American Legation of Peiping (Beijing) 

China (1927–30). Holcomb gained notoriety on 

Marine Corps rie teams, leading them to several 

championships between 1901 and 1911. He is thus 

responsible for helping create the self-identication 

of every Marine as a rieman. Holcomb held several 

other important sta positions, including membership with then-Major Earl Ellis on an ad hoc war 

plans committee that advised then-Colonel John A. 

Lejeune in 1915–16, and on the sta of the Division 

of Operations and Training in 1925–27.

Next, the newly promoted Major Holcomb assumed command of the 2d Battalion, 6th Marine 

Regiment (6th Marines), in August 1917 until August 

1918. He saw combat in France with the American 

Expeditionary Forces (AEF) in the First World War, 

where he led this unit across the wheat eld in the 

Battle of Belleau Wood. Following his appointment 

to lieutenant colonel, Holcomb served as second in 

Research Note:

“THE MARINE CORPS’ MISSION IN NATIONAL DEFENSE, AND 

ITS ORGANIZATION FOR A MAJOR EMERGENCY” 

Memorandum by Colonel omas Holcomb, USMC (1932)

command of 6th Marines, taking part in the Aisne 

Defensive (Château ierry), the Aisne-Marne Offensive (Soissons), the Marbache Sector, the SaintMihiel Oensive, the Meuse-Argonne (Champagne) 

Oensive, the Meuse-Argonne (Argonne Forest) Offensive, and the march to the Rhine in Germany following the Armistice.

In recognition of his distinguished service in 

France, Holcomb was awarded the Navy Cross, the 

Silver Star with three oak leaf clusters, the Meritorious Service Citation by the commander in chief, 

AEF, and the Purple Heart. He was also cited three 

times in general orders of the 2d Division, AEF. e 

French government conferred on him the Legion of 

Honor and three times awarded him the Croix de 

Guerre with palm. Holcomb thus ranks as one of the 

most decorated Marines to serve in France in the 

First World War.

Apart from his line and sta successes, Holcomb 

also excelled at every level of professional military 

education (PME), including what is today the U.S. 

Army’s Command and General Sta College (CGSC) 

at Fort Leavenworth, Kansas, where he graduated in 

the top 25 percent (39th in a class of 256 students) 

in 1925. is educational experience helped Holcomb better understand operational art and military theories, which he had already seen in practice. 

Holcomb counted among his classmates the likes 

of Courtney H. Hodges, Clarence R. Huebner, and 

* David J. Ulbrich is currently assistant professor of history at Rogers State University in Claremore, OK. He is author of Preparing for Victory: 

Thomas Holcomb and the Making of the Modern Marine Corps, 1936–1943 (2011). This book won the 2012 General Wallace M. Greene Jr. 

Award from the Marine Corps Heritage Foundation. More recently, Ulbrich coauthored Ways of War: American Military History from the Colonial 

Era to the Twenty-First Century (2014), which has since been adopted as required reading for all cadets at the U.S. Air Force Academy. Ulbrich 

wishes to thank the editorial staff at Marine Corps University Press and the office staff in the History and Political Science Department at Rogers 

State University for assistance in laying out and transcribing Holcomb’s original memorandum and enclosure.

1 This biographical sketch draws heavily on David J. Ulbrich, Preparing for Victory: Thomas Holcomb and the Making of the Modern Marine 

Corps, 1936–1943 (Annapolis: Naval Institute Press, 2011), 1–38; John W. Gordon, “General Thomas Holcomb and the Golden Age of Amphibious Warfare,” Delaware History 21 (September 1985), 256–70; and Gordon’s expanded version, “Thomas Holcomb, 1936–1943,” in Commandants of the United States Marine Corps, ed. Allan R. Millett and Jack Shulimson (Annapolis: Naval Institute Press, 2004), 253–81.

74
Summer 2016 75

Jacob L. Devers, all of whom commanded divisions 

or larger in the Second World War. Holcomb then 

distinguished himself at the U.S. Naval War College 

and then Army War College (AWC) in 1930–32. His 

time at these top-tier PME institutions allowed him 

to broaden his understanding of war making at the 

strategic and grand strategic levels, as well as formulate the Marine Corps’ roles and missions in future 

conicts. Among his classmates at AWC were prominent Corps and Army commanders of the Second 

World War: George S. Patton, Leonard T. Gerow, and 

Alexander M. Patch. 

Following promotion to brigadier general in early 

1935, Holcomb assumed the role as commandant 

of the Marine Corps Schools at Quantico, Virginia, 

until November 1936. is brought his educational experience full circle. Whereas he gained a solid 

foundation in the principles of warfare at CGSC and 

the war colleges earlier in his career, Holcomb could 

now direct the teaching of young Marine ocers regarding those principles. He directed the compilation of two of the Corps’ three seminal publications: 

the Tentative Manual for Defense of Advanced Bases and the 1935 edition of the Small Wars Manual. 

ese two manuals, along with the Tentative Manual 

for Landing Operations of 1934, constitute the basis 

for the development of amphibious doctrine, the 

blueprint for the island-hopping campaign in the 

Pacic. Holcomb’s eorts in PME le long-term and 

indelible marks on the Corps’ doctrinal, operational, 

procurement, and force structure evolution for the 

decades aer the Second World War and even today in the form of Expeditionary Force 21. is latter 

document builds on the proven concepts of Operational Maneuver from the Sea, Ship-to-Objective Maneuver, and Seabasing.

2

 e annotated footnotes in 

the memorandum and the enclosure esh out these 

connections between Holcomb’s ideas in 1932 and 

more recent developments in amphibious doctrine, 

force structure, and equipment procurement.

On 1 December 1936, Brigadier General omas 

Holcomb received his second star and appointment 

as the 17th Commandant of the Marine Corps. He 

was promoted over several more senior general of-

cers because he possessed the right education, 

experience, intellect, temperament, and leadership 

necessary to serve as Commandant. His appointment is a testimony to the respect Holcomb engendered in those senior generals who accepted his 

promotion and dutifully served under him. During 

the Great Depression years, Holcomb expertly guided the Corps’ preparations for war and provided his 

“Leathernecks” with astute direction as they participated in the rst 24 months of conict. en, during 

the rst two years of the Second World War, Holcomb was promoted to lieutenant general, and he directed the dramatic expansion of the Marine Corps 

from approximately 65,000 Marines in December 

1941 to 385,000 Marines in December 1943 when he 

retired. Holcomb guaranteed that no decline in Marine esprit or Marine culture occurred, despite such 

a dramatic mobilization. He set the Marine Corps on 

a path to ght eectively in the Pacic war. He also 

contributed still further to force structure by helping to formulate policies that led to the Marine airground task force (MAGTF) decades later. Holcomb 

measured up well in intellect, achievement, and abil2 Operational Maneuver from the Sea (Quantico, VA: Marine Corps Combat Development Command [MCCDC], 1996); Ship-to-Objective Maneuver (Quantico, VA: MCCDC, 1997); and Seabasing (Quantico, VA: MCCDC, 1997).

Thomas Holcomb Personal Papers, Box 41, Archives and Special 

Collections Branch, History Division, Marine Corps University

Col Holcomb, possibly taken while a student at the U.S. 

Naval or Army War Colleges, ca. 1931.
76 MCH Vol. 2, No. 1

ity when compared with such great American military managers of the Second World War as Dwight 

D. Eisenhower, Chester W. Nimitz, and George C. 

Marshall Jr. Like these unassuming yet ecient of-

cers, he excelled in all areas of service—line, sta, 

command, and PME.

Within the larger context, this research note focuses on PME and especially on then-Colonel Holcomb’s yearlong stint as a student at AWC from the 

summer of 1931 to the summer of 1932.3 In addition 

to his studies, he also wrote and submitted an important memorandum on 20 January 1932 titled “e 

Marine Corps’ Mission in National Defense, and Its 

Organization for a Major Emergency.” e memorandum in its original format was 4 pages long, followed by a 13-page enclosure titled “A Discussion 

of the Marine Corps’ Mission in National Defense 

and Its Organization for a Major Emergency.” In the 

latter document, Holcomb pulls together several 

contemporary publications and reports as he eshes 

out many of the items in the shorter memorandum. 

Although neither the memorandum nor the enclosure are completely original, omas Holcomb synthesized many existing ideas about force structure, 

amphibious doctrine, equipment procurement, and 

the future of the Marine Corps. He thus created a 

coherent vision for the Marine Corps as an operational force, serving the United States’ ever-changing 

strategic needs. 

Taken together, the memorandum and its enclosure reveal not only how well read but also how truly 

prescient Holcomb was in early 1932. Such ideas as 

centralized amphibious command authority, logistical considerations, specialized weapons systems, 

and triangular amphibious assault and base defense 

force structures can be seen in their infancy forms. 

Most of these came to fruition in the Marine Corps 

during the Second World War or later in the Cold 

War. It is clear that Holcomb had his ngers on the 

pulse of the Marine Corps organization as well as on 

the pulse of American strategic priorities in which 

the Corps might fulll missions. He also possessed 

the right habits of mind to leverage past lessons 

to better prepare the Marine Corps for the future. 

Holcomb recognized, for instance, that the “small 

war” (counterinsurgency) mission in the Caribbean 

slowly declined as a priority for the Corps, while the 

dual mission of amphibious assault and base defense 

grew increasingly important in the 1930s. s1775s

3 For an overview, see Harry P. Ball, Of Responsible Command: A History of the U.S. Army War College (Carlisle Barracks, PA: Alumni Association 

of the Army War College, 1994), 212–25. For more analyses of the different branches’ PME systems and planning processes, see Michael R. 

Matheny, Carrying the War to the Enemy: American Operational Art to 1945 (Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 2011); and Jörg Muth, Command Culture: Officer Education in the U.S. Army and the German Armed Forces 1901–1940, and the Consequences for World War II (Denton: 

University of North Texas Press, 2011). Muth’s book is currently on the Commandant’s professional reading list.

Thomas Holcomb Personal Papers, Box 41, Archives and Special, 

Collections Branch, History Division, Marine Corps University

Marine Corps rifle team in Peking, China, in 1910 with 

Capt Holcomb seated on the right.
Summer 2016 77

The Army War College, 

Washington, D.C.,

January 30, 1932.

Memorandum for the Assistant Commandant:

Subject: The Marine Corps’ Mission in national defense, and its 

 organization for a major emergency.1

I. The study presented.

 Study the mission of the Marine Corps in national defense; 

then; utilizing the results of this study, what should be the most 

suitable organization for a major emergency?

II. Facts bearing upon the study.

 1. The mission of the Marine Corps in national defense is: 

 To furnish detachments for combat vessels; to protect 

naval shore establishments; to furnish expeditionary forces for the 

seizure of naval advanced bases, for the defense of such bases, and 

for other minor operations; in order to support the Navy in the accomplishment of its mission.2

2. Arising out of this mission, the following tasks must be 

performed:

a. Provision of a military headquarters for the control 

of the Corps.

 b. Supply.

 c. Procurement of personnel.

 d. Training of personnel.

e. Provision of organizations to protect naval shore 

establishments.

 f. Provision of detachments for service on board naval 

vessels.

 g. Provision of expeditionary forces for

1 Memorandum by Col Thomas Holcomb, USMC, to the Assistant Commandant, Army War College, “The Marine Corps’ Mission in National 

Defense, and Its Organization for a Major Emergency,” 30 January 1932, File Number 387-30, Army War College, Army Heritage and Education 

Command, 1–4. 

2 See Joint Army-Navy Basic War Plan Orange, 6 October 1920, quoted in Frank J. Infusino, “U.S. Marines and War Planning, 1940–1941” 

(master’s thesis, San Diego State University, CA, 1974), 145. During the 1920s, MajGen Commandant John A. Lejeune made development of 

amphibious capabilities one of the Corps’ major priorities. Commentary on the Marine Corps’ mission can be traced to Earl H. Ellis. Ellis wrote 

in Advanced Based Operations, Fleet Marine Force Reference Publication 12-46 (Washington, DC: Headquarters Marine Corps, 1921), http://

www.ibiblio.org/hyperwar/USMC/ref/AdvBaseOps/; and Earl H. Ellis, Navy Bases: Their Location, Resources, and Security (Washington, DC: 

Headquarters Marine Corps, 1913). In addition to Lejeune, Holcomb, and Ellis, several other Marine officers influenced the development of the 

Corps’ amphibious capabilities during the 1920s and early 1930s, including Holland M. Smith, Robert H. Dunlap, James C. Breckinridge, John 

H. Russell Jr., and Ben H. Fuller. See relevant chapters in Allan R. Millett and Jack Shulimson, ed., Commandants of the Marine Corps (Annapolis: 

Naval Institute Press, 2004); Leo J. Daugherty III, Pioneers of Amphibious Warfare, 1898–1945: Profiles of Fourteen American Military Strategists 

(Jefferson, NC: McFarland, 2009); and Dirk A. Ballendorf and Merrill L. Bartlett, Pete Ellis: Amphibious Warfare Prophet, 1880–1923 (Annapolis: 

Naval Institute Press, 1996). 
78 MCH Vol. 2, No. 1

(1) the seizure of naval advanced bases.3

(2) the defense of naval advanced bases.4

(3) other minor operations.5

3. Military headquarters for the control of the Corps exists 

in the office of the Major General Commandant, who is responsible to 

the Secretary of the Navy, in general for the efficiency of the Corps. 

The Major General Commandant is assisted by an adequate staff. Marine Corps headquarters, as organized, will, with an increase of 

personnel which is available, function adequately in war.

4. Supply is charged to the Quartermaster, Marine Corps. The 

organization of his department is sufficiently elastic so that it may 

be expanded to take care of supply needs in a major emergency.

5. Procurement of Personnel.

a. Commissioned. War time needs will be satisfied by 

the promotion of regular officers, calling to active duty of reserve 

and selected retired officers, appointment as second lieutenants of 

graduates of the Naval Academy and military schools and colleges, 

and enlisted men.

b. Enlisted. Increase of enlisted strength in war will 

be accomplished by recruiting, through expansion of existing recruiting service, and from the selective service system when effective, and by calling to duty of reserves. 

6. Training of personnel.

 a. Commissioned. Existing officers’ schools will be discontinued, and schools for officer candidates organized. 

 b. Enlisted.

3

 This mission culminated in the Tentative Manual for Landing Operations, which was compiled in 1934 at the Marine Corps Schools (MCS) in Quantico. Faculty and students took the previous year away from normal classroom study to research and compile this document. This landing manual 

eventually formed the major foundation for the Navy’s Landing Operations Doctrine, FTP-167 (1938) and the Army’s Landing Operations on Hostile 

Shores, FM 31-5 (1941). See LtCol Kenneth J. Clifford, USMCR, Purpose and Progress: A Developmental History of the United States Marine Corps, 

1900–1970 (Washington, DC: History and Museums Division, Headquarters Marine Corps, 1973); Gunther E. Rothenberg, “From Gallipoli to Guadalcanal,” in Assault from the Sea: Essays on the History of Amphibious Warfare, ed. LtCol Merrill L. Bartlett (Annapolis: Naval Institute Press, 1983), 

177–82; Allan R. Millett, “Assault from the Sea: The Development of Amphibious Warfare Between the Wars—The American, British, and Japanese 

Experiences,” in Military Innovation in the Interwar Period (Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press, 1998), 71–78; and David J. Ulbrich, “The U.S. 

Marine Corps, Amphibious Capabilities, and Preparations for War with Japan,” Marine Corps University Journal 6, no. 1 (Spring 2015): 82–84. 4 Doctrine for this mission can be seen in the Tentative Manual for Defense of Advanced Bases, which was compiled and published in 1936 by 

MCS. Then-BGen Thomas Holcomb served as commandant of the MCS during this process. Based on his pattern of observing in the back of 

classrooms or during exercises, it is plausible to expect that he also read through drafts of the manual. See also David J. Ulbrich, “Clarifying the 

Origins and Strategic Mission of the U.S. Marine Corps Defense Battalion, 1898–1941,” War and Society 17, no. 2 (1999): 81–109; and David J. 

Ulbrich, “Document of Note: The Long-Lost Tentative Manual for the Defense of Advanced Bases (1936),” Journal of Military History 71, no. 3 

(July 2007): 889–901.

5 Holcomb repeatedly uses the term minor operations as a euphemism for so-called “expeditionary wars” or “small wars” in the context of when 

Holcomb wrote his memorandum. These included Marine occupation duties in the Caribbean. Holcomb definitely downplayed the mission of 

so many thousands of Marines on occupation duties in the Caribbean from 1900 to the early 1930s. The Marines, especially officers, formed a 

clique in the Marine Corps. Because Holcomb never served in the “small wars” in the Caribbean, he could not claim membership in that clique. 

Instead, he clearly sided with the ascendant amphibious warfare clique. He believed that, with the return home of the Marines from the Caribbean in the 1930s, the Corps had to redirect its energies toward amphibious warfare and the future to fit into nation’s strategic needs, if not for 

institutional survival. See Donald F. Bittner, “Taking the Right Fork in the Road: The Transition of the U.S. Marine Corps from an ‘Expeditionary’ to 

an ‘Amphibious’ Corps, 1918–1941,” in Battles Near and Far: A Century of Operational Deployment, ed. Peter Dennis and Jeffrey Grey (Canberra, 

Australia: 2004 Chief of Army Military History Conference, Army History Unit, 2005), 116–40.
Summer 2016 79

(1) Recruits will be trained at the two existing 

recruit depots, and at an additional one to be established.

(2) Branch training in infantry, artillery, signals, tanks, and engineers will be carried out in training centers 

in existence at Quantico and San Diego, and at an additional establishment to be organized. Aviation training will be carried out at 

existing Marine Corps and Navy activities.

(3) Organization training will be carried out in 

all organizations wherever stationed.

 7. Organizations to guard naval shore establishments.

Existing organizations will be increased by assignment of 

reserves, and recruits upon graduation from depots. New detachments 

will be organized for new establishments.

8. Detachments for service on naval vessels. Existing detachments will be maintained by assignment of graduated of sea schools 

at Portsmouth, Va., and San Diego. Detachments for new vessels commissioned will be furnished from the same source. Marine detachments 

are available for any landing operation for which their strength 

qualified them.

9. Expeditionary forces.

 a. Ship-to-shore operations for the seizures of advanced 

bases, or for denying such bases to the enemy.

The following considerations determine the organization of a 

division for this purpose:6

 (1) General. Objectives are usually limited, and 

deep penetration from the beach not usually contemplated.7 Organization and equipment must be suitable for transportation over long 

distances on ships, and for transporting in existing ships’ boats 

to the beach. Supply is simplified by the fact that movement to a 

great distance from the beach is not contemplated. This makes it 

6 Holcomb made one of his most prescient predictions in this section on the Marine Corps division. He noted the need for combat arms operations that included infantry, artillery, aviation, and logistical elements. Later, when Holcomb was Commandant, he helped establish the Marine 

division as just such an independent fighting force. In October 1942, then-Commandant Holcomb supported revisions in the amphibious 

command structure that allowed a division’s commanding general more autonomy of action, relative to the naval commander. See Ulbrich,

Preparing for Victory, 142–53, 188–89. Returning to his 1932 memorandum, Holcomb’s draft table of organization for a division also resembled a 

force structure that would become the Marine air-ground task force (MAGTF), which is most often credited as originating in the early 1960s. See 

Marine Corps Order 3120.3 (December 1963); The Marine Corps in the National Defense, MCDP 1-0 (Washington, DC: Headquarters Marine 

Corps, 2001); and Aaron B. O’Connell, Underdogs: The Making of the Modern Marine Corps (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2012), 

241–48, 254. Nevertheless, although Holcomb did not know what exactly such an amphibious force-in-readiness would look like nor what its 

name would be back in 1932, his memorandum clearly pointed to the force structure and operational mission developed decades later in the 

Pacific war, the Cold War, and the wide-ranging operations of the twenty-first century. For one example of ongoing debate about the efficacy 

of the MAGTF, see Michael R. Kennedy, “MAGTF Area of Operations: Turf War or Doctrinal Necessity,” Joint Force Quarterly 32 (Autumn 2002): 

93–97.

7 This notion of establishing a beachhead and conducting limited inland operations remained the Marines’ expectation until the first amphibious operation on Guadalcanal of the Pacific war. The eventual wartime reality of limited American military manpower and almost limitless operational objectives required the Marine Corps units to assault the beaches, expand inland, and then conduct intensive land operations. See 

Ulbrich, Preparing for Victory, 33–34; “The Idea of a Fleet Marine Force,” Marine Corps Gazette 23, no. 2 (June 1939): 61; and Edward S. Miller, 

War Plan Orange: The U.S. Strategy to Defeat Japan, 1897–1945 (Annapolis: Naval Institute Press, 1991), 227. 
80 MCH Vol. 2, No. 1

possible to maintain a large proportion of artillery and automatic 

weapons. The landing force, after attaining its objective must be 

prepared for a stubborn defense, with little ground for maneuver. 

This requires a heavy proportion of artillery and automatic weapons. The division must have much greater mobility than that of the 

army infantry division as now organized, and must be capable of subdivision into task groups.

(2) Infantry.

(a) The infantry platoon of four squads is 

best suited to landing operations, because it makes possible the 

transportation of an entire platoon in one boat, thus avoiding sending in a boatload without an officer.

(b) A battalion invariable requires a platoon 

of the howitzer company. Therefore proper organization places a howitzer platoon organically in the battalion, preferably as a platoon 

in the machine fun company. A machine gun company with eight guns 

to the battalion of the size contemplated, and one automatic rifle 

and one grenade discharger per squad, gives a proper proportion of 

automatic weapons.

(c) The triangular formation in all organization in that division, which increases maneuverability, is superior 

to the square formation. This indicates that the division should 

contain three infantry regiments of three battalions, of three rifle 

and one machine gun and howitzer company each, each rifle company of 

three platoons.8

(3) Artillery. The 75 mm gun is unsuited to ship-toshore operations because of difficulty of transport. The 75 mm pack 

howitzer is so suited. A regiment of infantry of the size contemplated requires the support of a battalion of artillery of twelve 

guns.9

(4) Aviation. Air support of the landing, (reconnaissance, spotting gunfire, attack and bombardment missions, and screening), will be furnished by naval aviation from supporting ships and 

carriers. Two observation squadrons of the Marine Corps are available on the carriers. The division should be strong in pursuit and 

observation aviation, to be used after initial objectives have been 

reached and landing fields prepared. 

8 The idea of a “triangular” division floated around Army officer circles in the interwar years. Although no evidence exists, it is reasonable to 

believe Holcomb listened and participated in these debates. He certainly did possess experience as a brigade staff officer in the First World 

War, and thus he worked within the large “square” division. The contemporary criticisms of this wartime division argument that the 28,000-man 

strong unit was too large for agile maneuver on the battlefield. Both the Army and Marine Corps eventually accepted and adopted the triangular division with approximately 16,000 men. See John B. Wilson, Maneuver and Firepower: The Evolution of Divisions and Separate Brigades 

(Washington, DC: U.S. Army Center of Military History, 1998), 52–56, 86–95, 125–33; and Ulbrich, Preparing for Victory, 34. 9 Holcomb correctly recognized the value in beach and inland operations of the lightweight yet potent 75mm pack howitzer. He doubtlessly 

recalled from personal experience in the First World War how such mobile artillery proved to be essential in ground operations, let alone amphibious operations. Contemporary Marines agreed with him as seen in Maj Harry K. Pickett, “The 75mm Pack Howitzer,” Marine Corps Gazette 

15 (November 1931); and Maj Curtis W. LeGette, “Pack Howitzer Battery in Landing Attack,” Marine Corps Gazette 19 (May 1936).
Summer 2016 81

(5) The proportion of engineers, signal, medical, and special troops generally, should be approximately in the same proportion 

as in the infantry division. While tanks will rarely be used in landing 

operations, a company should be included in the division, and left at 

home if their use is unnecessary for the operation contemplated.10

 (6) Equipment.

 (a) Animals are unsuitable, and motor traction 

should be used.

 (b) Heavy or bulky vehicles, such as escort wagons, water carts, rolling kitchens and trucks generally, because of 

the difficulty of landing them in boats, should not be used.

 (c) The Cole cart, (a light, two-wheeled cart 

with steel frame and side car wheels) is suitable for the movement 

of ammunition, water, rations, machine guns, howitzer weapons, signal equipment, and all light equipment.

 (d) Light tractors and trailers should be used 

for combat, field, and division trains.

 (e) All equipment must be of weight and size suitable for transport in boats, man handling for short distances, movement in Cole carts, and for packing on mules when locally available.

b. Forces for the defense of a base.

After the capture of a base by the division described 

above, additional armament and personnel must be provided for its 

defense. The division is suitably organized and equipped to oppose 

landing operations by the enemy, but must be prepared to drive off 

raiding cruisers, destroyers, and aviation. For this, 155 mm guns, 

and antiaircraft guns and machine guns, with searchlight and sound 

locators are necessary.

c. Forces for other minor operations. Can be performed 

by the division as organized for landing operations, or a task group 

therefrom.

III. Action recommended.

1. That the existing organization of Marine Corps headquarters, and its system of supply, procurement of personnel, training, 

protecting naval shore establishments, and for providing detachments 

for naval vessels, undergo no organic change, but that each activity 

be expanded by increase of personnel, as necessary. That every effort be made to maintain a reserve of 13,000 to 15,000, principally 

in the “assigned” class.

10 Holcomb clearly grasped the need for logistical support forces and for combat engineering capabilities for breaching obstacles. However, 

despite his otherwise accurate predictions of future force structures, missions, and equipment procurement, he did not anticipate how integral 

tanks would be for the amphibious assault operations in the Pacific war, as well as for the defense of consolidated territory against Japanese 

counterattacks. See Kenneth W. Estes, Marines Under Armor: The Marine Corps and the Armored Fighting Vehicle, 1915–2000 (Annapolis: 

Naval Institute Press, 2000), 8–9, 27–104; and Maj Joseph DiDomenico, “The Progression of Tank Doctrine in the Pacific Theater of Operations, 

1943–1945” (unpublished paper, Norwich University, VT, 2015). 
82 MCH Vol. 2, No. 1

2. That the division for ship-to-shore operations be organized as follows:

 One infantry brigade of three regiments, each of three 

battalions, of three rifle and one machine gun and howitzer companies. Aggregate strength of battalion- 662, of regiment, 2272, of 

the brigade, 6904. One artillery regiment, oft three battalions of 

three batteries each; aggregate strength, 1611; guns, 36. Aviation 

group of one observation and one pursuit squadron, each of twenty 

five planes; aggregate strength, 735. One engineer battalion of three 

companies; aggregate strength, 397. Medical regiment, 483. Division 

headquarters and headquarters company, service company, military police company, tank company and train; aggregate strength, 955. Total 

strength of division, 11,085.

3. That this division be reinforced by a base defense force, 

when needed, organized as follows:

A headquarters, aggregate 58.

A 155 mm gun regiment, aggregate 741, consisting of a 

headquarters, headquarters and service batteries, and three battalions of two batteries each, in all 24 guns. 

An antiaircraft regiment, aggregate strength 861, with 

a headquarters, headquarters and service batteries; a gun battalion 

of one searchlight and three gun batteries (in all 12-3” antiaircraft guns), with sound locators; a machine gun battalion, with one 

searchlight and two machine gun batteries, and sound locators, in 

all 48 fifty caliber antiaircraft machine guns.11

4. That for other minor operations, the division, or a task 

group therefrom be used.

 /signed/ 

T. HOLCOMB,

Colonel, U.S.M.C.

1 Inclosure[sic]: 

Discussion of the Marine Corps’ Mission in National Defense, and its 

Organization for a National Emergency.

11 Holcomb once again anticipated the need for a specialized unit to defend bases against counterattacks. This unit did have an earlier antecedent in the Marine Corps Advanced Base Force from 1900 to 1922. See Graham Cosmas and Jack Shulimson, “Continuity and Consensus: The 

Evolution of the Marine Advance Force, 1900–1922,” in Proceedings of the Citadel Conference on War and Diplomacy, ed. David H. White and 

John W. Gordon (Charleston, SC: Citadel Press, 1977), 31–35. Holcomb eventually saw the formation of an updated version this unit—called the 

defense battalion—in 1939. The defense battalion did not, however, receive the allotment of 1,600 Marines outlined in Holcomb’s memorandum. 

Instead, the unit included approximately 1,000 Marines. Nevertheless, its armament of artillery and machine guns roughly equaled a light cruiser 

in the U.S. Navy. These units would prove their mettle at Wake Island in 1941 and on Guadalcanal in 1942. See Report of the Board to Investigate 

and Report upon the Need, for Purposes of National Defense, for the Establishment of Additional Submarine, Destroyers, Mine, and Naval Air 

Bases on the Coasts of the United States, its Territories and Possessions (or Hepburn Board Report), 1 December 1938, Strategic Plans Division 

War Plans Division, Series III, Misc. Subject File, Box 50, RG 38, National Archives at College Park, 1–6, 62–70, 87–89; Miller, War Plan Orange; 

Gregory J. W. Urwin, Facing Fearful Odds: The Siege of Wake Island (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 1997); Ulbrich, “Clarifying the Origins 

and Strategic Mission,” 81–107, 90–91; and Maj Charles D. Melson, Condition Red: Marine Defense Battalions in World War II (Washington, DC: 

Marine Corps Historical Center, 1996).
Summer 2016 83

A DISCUSSION OF THE MARINE CORPS’ MISSION IN

NATIONAL DEFENSE AND ITS ORGANIZATION FOR A 

MAJOR EMERGENCY.12

1. The mission of the Marine Corps in a major emergency was 

fore-shadowed in the act of the Continental Congress of 10 November, 

1775, providing for the raising of two battalions of Marines, which 

directed that “particular care be taken, that no persons to be appointed to office, or enlisted into said Battalions, but such as are 

good seaman, or so acquainted with maritime affairs as to be able to 

serve to advantages sea when required.13 This provision also contemplated that the Marine Corps should have that service and that close 

association with the rest of the Navy which acts to qualify them for 

the accomplishment of that mission.

2. U.S. Naval General Policy with regard to the Marine Corps is: 

“To maintain a Marine Corps of such strength that it will be able 

adequately to support the Navy by furnishing detachments to vessels 

of the Fleet in full commission, guards for shore stations, garrisons for outlying possessions, and by the maintenance in readiness 

of expeditionary forces.”14 

3. The following extract from a letter to the General Board U.S. 

Navy, dated May 9, 1922, and appearing in the printed hearings of 

the Committee on Military Affairs, held January 19 to March 9, 1926, 

is quoted:

“The General Board concurs in the opinion of the General Staff 

that the Marine Corps should not develop into a complete Army under 

the Navy Department, but there is no tendency on the part of the Marine Corps, both in peace and war, are definite and are distinct from 

the missions of the Army. In peace the Navy, including the Marine 

Corps, has been frequently utilized by the State Department as the 

instrument for carrying out the foreign policies of the government. 

On occasions too numerous to mention, naval landing forces have temporarily occupied foreign territory for the preservation and maintenance of order and for protection of the interests of the United 

States and even of the interests of other nations without creating 

international difficulties. Such operations by the Marine Corps acting as a part of the Navy and of the landing force of the ship or 

ships are regarded with less suspicion by foreign powers as to ultimate intentions. There is also room for constitutional interpretation that the President’s Executive powers abroad reach further with 

the Navy and with the Marines as a part of the former than with the 

Army. Certainly the practice of over a century confirms this view.

12 Col Thomas Holcomb, USMC, Enclosure “A Discussion of the Marine Corps’ Mission in National Defense, and Its Organization for a Major 

Emergency,” 30 January 1932, File 387-30, Army War College, Army Heritage Center Foundation, 1–13. 

13 Historical sketch of the United States Marine Corps, Marine Corps Historical Section, 20 May 1931.

14 “U.S. Naval Policy,” approved by Secretary of the Navy, 1 June 1931.
84 MCH Vol. 2, No. 1

“In war the major mission of the Marine Corps is equally definite. The successful carrying out of the tasks assigned to the Navy 

on the outbreak of a war requires that the fleet be accompanied by an 

expeditionary force for minor shore operations, such as the seizure 

and defense of temporary naval bases and the clearing away of enemy 

forces from their temporary bases within the theatre of operations. 

In as much as successful conduct of these operations by the landing forces requires sea experience, it is sound military practice to 

make them the war mission of the Marine Corps, especially in time of 

peace is thoroughly indoctrinated with its policy and cognizant of 

its plans and methods. Friction, too, will be eliminated, as the Navy 

and Marine Corps have by long experience become accustomed to joint 

operations ashore and afloat, and unity of command is automatic.15

“The Navy having gained control of the sea, and thereby having opened the sea lanes for safe passage by the Army to the enemy 

coasts, the Marine Corps Expeditionary force, if not further required by the fleet or navy, will be available for service with the 

Army, as now duly provided by law.”

This explanation of these functions of the Marine Corps, 

seem now thoroughly understood, and do not present any controversial 

aspects.

4. Major General Ben E. Fuller, the present commandant of the 

Marine Corps, has described its mission in the following 

terms: “Headquarters, the Marine Corps Schools, and the 

other appropriate agencies of the Corps, should be continuously planning to have the Corps fully prepared for 

any future major war, in which the general function of the 

Corps would be, as an adjunct of the Navy, to provide and 

maintain forces for land operations in support of the fleet 

for the initial seizures and defense of advanced bases and 

for such limited auxiliary land operations as are essential to the prosecution of the naval campaign.”16

5. Major General Lejeune, a former commandant of the Marine 

Corps, has stated that the Corps mission is:

“To support the United States Fleet and to aid the Navy 

in carrying out that part of the policy of the government 

which has been or may be assigned to it.”17

6. “Our fortified naval bases beyond American shores are insignificant in number. We cannot maintain our fleet distant from our shores, in readiness to give battle, except 

15 The paragraphs in this section are as relevant in the twenty-first century as they were in the Cold War, the Second World War, or in 1932 when 

Holcomb researched this memorandum and enclosed discussion. For example, see Expeditionary Force 21 (Washington, DC: Headquarters Marine Corps, 2014), http:// www.mccdc.marines.mil/Portals/172/Docs/MCCDC/EF21/EF21_USMC_Capstone _Concept.pdf. The December 2012 

issue of Marine Corps Gazette contains several articles on the current state and future prospects for the Corps’ amphibious missions. See also 

Raymond G. O’Connor, “Naval Strategy in the Twentieth Century,” Naval War College Review 21 (February 1961): 4–12; and Maj Trevor Howell, 

USMCR, “Traditional Amphibious Warfare: Wrong for Decades, Wrong for the Future,” Marine Corps Gazette 98, no. 9 (September 2014): 18–22. 16 MajGen Ben H. Fuller, Commandant, U.S. Marine Corps, “The Mission of the Marine Corps,” Marine Corps Gazette (November 1930): 8. 17 MajGen John A. Lejeune, “The United States Marine Corps,” Marine Corps Gazette (December 1923): 249.
Summer 2016 85

through the efficient operation of advanced base forces. 

There lies the true mission of the Marine Corps. Their sea 

services in first line ships with the sea habit there acquired, is essential for the fulfillment of this object.”18

7. The Navy Regulations have the following to say on the subject: The following duties may be performed by the Marine 

Corps, when so directed by the Secretary of the Navy:

a. To furnish organizations for duty afloat on board 

armed transports for service either with fleets, 

squadrons or divisions, or on detached service.

b. To garrison the different Navy Yards and Naval Stations, both within and beyond the continental limits 

of the Unites States.

c. To furnish the first line of mobile defenses of Naval Bases and Naval Stations beyond the continental 

limits of the United States.

d. To man such naval defenses and aid in manning, if 

necessary such other defense as may be erected for 

the defense of naval bases and naval stations beyond 

the continental limits of the United States.

e. “To furnish such garrisons and Expeditionary Forces 

for duties beyond the seas as may be necessary in 

time of peace.”19 

8. It then appears that the Marine Corps is an auxiliary 

part of the Navy, maintained for the purpose of assisting the 

Navy to carry out its mission in nation defense. The Navy 

requires for the accomplishment of its mission, a highly mobile, military force of all arms, possessed offensive and defensive operations in amphibious warfare and in land warfare; 

and such a force it is the function of the Marine Corps to 

furnish.20

9. The Mission of the Marine Corps in National defense 

therefore is:

To furnish detachments for combat vessels; to protect 

naval shore establishments; to furnish expeditionary forces 

for the seizure of naval advanced bases, for the defense of 

such bases, and for other minor operations; in order to support the Navy in the accomplishment of its mission.

18 BGen George H. Richards, “The Marine Corps and the General Board of the Navy,” Marine Corps Gazette (August 1931): 35. 19 U.S. Navy Regulations, Article 552 (7), 1920.

20 The Marine Corps’ subordinate role within the Navy’s institutional structure was paralleled by a similar subordinate role in naval and grand 

strategy. The Navy and the national military leadership set the strategic objectives, and then the Marines worked to identify the proper force 

structure, equipment, and operational and tactical doctrine to achieve those strategic objectives. See Ulbrich, “U.S. Marine Corps, Amphibious 

Capabilities,” 75, 85–88, 97–100; Millett, Semper Fidelis, 319, 330–37; Jeter A. Isley and Philip A. Crowl, The U.S. Marines and Amphibious War: 

Its Theory and Its Practice in the Pacific (New Jersey: Princeton University Press, 1951), 74–75; and D. Clayton James, “American and Japanese 

Strategies in the Pacific War,” in Makers of Modern Strategy from Machiavelli to the Nuclear Age, ed. Peter Paret (New Jersey: Princeton University 

Press, 1986). 
86 MCH Vol. 2, No. 1

10. Out of this mission arise the following tasks, which 

the Marine Corps must be organized to accomplish:

a. Provision of a military headquarters for the control 

of the Corps.

b. Supply

C. Procurement of personnel

d. Training of personnel

e. Provision of organizations for guarding naval shore 

establishments.

f. Provision of detachments for service on vessels of 

the Fleet.

g. Provision of expeditionary forces for service with 

the Fleet for:

(1) The seizure of advanced bases.

(2) Defense of advanced bases.

(3) Minor Operations in support of the Fleet.

These tasks will be discussed in the following pages.

11. Discussion of the tasks involved.

a. Headquarters for the control of the Corps.

Such a head is found in the Major General Commandant of the Marine Corps, whose prescribed duties are: 

responsibility to the Secretary of the Navy for the efficiency of the Corps; immediate command of the officers 

of the staff of the Corps; issuance of orders for the 

movement of officers and troops; orders for their instruction and guidance; supervision and control over 

the recruiting service; supervision of all expenditures 

and supplies; the submission of estimates for the budget; distribution of the personnel; establishment and 

supervision of schools for officers and enlisted men; 

inspection of Marine Corps activities; organization and 

administration of the Marine Corps Reserve. The major 

General Commandant is therefore responsible to the secretary of the Navy for obtaining, training, organizing 

and equipping the personnel necessary to carry out the 

Marine Corps mission.

He is assisted by a staff as follows:

Assistant to the M.G.C. [Major General Commandant] who, under the direction of his chief, coordinates the staff at Marine Corps Headquarters.

The Adjutant and Inspector, who is the custodian of records and who 

carries out administrative inspections.

The Quartermaster, responsible for supplies of all kinds, including 
Summer 2016 87

clothing, equipment, shelter, provisions, transportation, services, 

labor.

The Paymaster, responsible for all matters relating to pay of personnel.

An officer in charge of recruiting.

An officer in Charge of reserves.

A personnel section charged with the distribution of personnel, under established policies.

The Division of Operations and Training, which is responsible for 

making studies and recommendations in regard to all matters of policy or exceptions to policy, operations, and training, and for the 

preparation of Marine Corps war plans.21

The administration of Marine Corps personnel on the west coast 

of the United States is decentralized to the Commanding General, Department of the Pacific, who performs his duties under instructions 

from and under the supervision of the Major General Commandment.

There appears to be no reason for any organic change in the 

organization of Marine Corps Headquarters in a major emergency. 

This organization is the result of many years’ experience and operates with reasonable smoothness. It stood the test of the World War 

satisfactorily, so far as organization is concerned. It is capable 

of being readily expanded to take care of the increased activities 

incident to war. While general staff supervision is lacking, it is 

perhaps less necessary in the Marine Corps than in the Army (in the 

case of C-4, for the reason that all matters of supply are concentrated in one staff department); the Major General Commandment has 

at his disposal a group of officers in the Division of Operations and 

Training who perform certain General Staff functions; and lastly because Marine Corps organization should parallel, as closely as may 

be, naval organization.22

b. Supply. As states above, all matters of supply are in the 

hands of the Quartermaster, who procures, stores, and distributes supplies of all sorts, and provides shelter, services, 

and transportation. Under the detail system with its constant 

turn-over, there is a sufficient number of officers available 

for filling all key positions in the service of supply. The 

system worked moderately well in the World War, and experi21 The establishment of war planning functions at Headquarters resulted from First World War-era experiences, when only an ad hoc war plans 

committee existed (Holcomb, Ralph S. Keyser, and Ellis). With so many possible foes in different theaters, it made sense to formalize an official War Plans Committee in the Division of Operations and Training. In the mid-1920s, Holcomb also had directed this division, so he had 

knowledge of the planning process. See Ulbrich, Preparing for Victory, 14–16. For the larger context, see Steven T. Ross, American War Plans, 

1890–1939 (Portland, OR: Frank Cass, 2002), 49, 80; Harry G. Gole, The Road to Rainbow: Army Planning for Global War, 1934–1940 (Lawrence: 

University Press of Kansas, 2003), 11–15, 35; and Miller, War Plan Orange, 36, 77–82, 202–203, 226. 22 In 1932, Holcomb may have embraced the Headquarters Marine Corps structure and organization put into practice by Commandant John 

Lejeune in the 1920s. However, during the Second World War—a true national emergency—then-Commandant Holcomb found that the existing 

Headquarters could not adapt quickly enough to the massive expansion of personnel: 65,000 Marines in December 1941 to 385,000 in two 

years hence. Consequently, in 1943, Holcomb initiated a major reform that added efficiency and reduced redundancy. See Ulbrich, Preparing 

for Victory, 154–59.
88 MCH Vol. 2, No. 1

ence gained then will be taken advantage of in the next war. 

No change in organization is necessary, or desirable.

c. Procurement of personnel.

(1)Officers. In time of peace, officers have been procured 

from three sources:

a. Graduates of the U.S. Naval Academy.

b. Promotion of meritorious enlisted men.23

c. Appointments of graduates of military schools and 

colleges.

In the past few years officers have been obtained from the first 

two sources only, these being sufficient to satisfy peace-time needs. 

The assignment of graduates of the Naval Academy has an important 

bearing on the efficient on the Corps. In addition to the fact that 

these officers are the result of a four years process of elimination, 

they are of particular value in assuring close association with the 

line of the Navy through their Naval Academy contacts.

In a major emergency, the expansion of the commissioned personnel will be accomplished by the promotion of regular officers in the 

active list; calling to duty of reserve officers and certain retired 

officer; promotion of noncommissioned officers from lists prepared in 

time of peace; and the appointment of graduates of military schools 

and colleges.

Based on experience in the World War, it is believed that, by 

the time selective service shall have become effective, there will 

have enlisted an abundance of material for promotion to commissioned 

ranks; and that vacancies occurring in forces in the field can be 

filled by the promotion of enlisted men. Such promotions should be in 

the hands of the commanders of the field forces, under such restrictions as a detailed study may indicate as desirable.

(2)Enlisted men. In time of peace enlisted personnel is obtained by the recruiting service. This service is controlled by the 

Major General Commandant, through an officer in charge of recruiting. It is organized into four recruiting divisions, covering the 

territory of continental United States, the divisions being divided 

into districts, the latter having in each case a prescribed number 

of stations.

The Marine Corps will, in a major emergency, obtain its personnel through the selective service system when operative. Prior to 

such time, and adequate expansion of the recruiting service should 

be able to enlist 1500 men per day. The present appropriated strength 

of the Corps is 16,000, the authorized strength 27,400. It is as23 Holcomb benefitted from this policy of promotions based on merit and skill rather than seniority as had been so often the policy for many 

years in the Corps. In December 1936, at the more junior brigadier general rank, Holcomb passed over eight more senior general officers to be 

appointed Major General Commandant. He possessed the proper talents, intellect, and temperament. See Ulbrich, Preparing for Victory, 38–42; 

and Gordon, “General Holcomb,” 260–61, 269.
Summer 2016 89

sumed that the President would, when war became imminent authorize 

recruiting to that figure.

(3) The Reserve. The reserve consists of the Fleet Marine 

Corps Reserve and the Volunteer Marine Corps Reserve. The former has 

at present 241 commissioned officers, 6 warrant officers, and 6,677 

enlisted men, including 391 men transferred after 16 or 20 years of 

service, and expensive and therefore undesirable element; and 2,805 

“assigned men”, who enlisted for four years’ service in the reserve 

upon the expiration of their regular enlistment, and who receive 

twenty five dollars pay per annum, during their reserve enlistment; 

and 3,481 others. The “assigned” men are, in the opinion of the 

writer, the most useful type of reservists, with their background 

of at least four years’ regular service; however it has proved difficult to obtain funds to enlarge this class, although experience 

has proven that from 75% to 90% of all men discharged upon expiration of enlistment and not reenlisting, are willing to enter the 

assigned class. If funds were available, a most useful reserve of 

ten to twelve thousand men could be built up and maintained by this 

method, and effort should be made to obtain such funds.

The volunteer Marine Corps Reserved consists of 256 officers, 

warrant officers, and 2,748 enlisted. This reserve is organized into 

regiments and separate companies, and receives approximately two 

weeks training in camp per year. There is no armory drill pay, but 

a considerable amount of instruction is carried out in armories, 

without pay.

d. Training of personnel.

(1) Recruit training. This is carried out, in time of peace, 

at two recruit depots, one at Parris Island, S.C., and one at the 

Marine Corps Base, San Diego, Calif. All first enlistment recruits 

and men reenlisted from the Army and from the Navy are sent to one 

of these depots, direct from the recruiting district. There a wellorganized staff puts them through a standardized course of instruction, covering a period of eight weeks. The course covers individual 

basic training, close and extended order drill, guard duty, marksmanship, customs of the service, etc. Upon the completion of this 

course the recruit is considered available for general duty, except 

sea service. Men selected for the latter duty, are, upon the termination of their eight weeks’ course at the recruit depot, transferred 

to one of the sea schools, which are located at Marine Barracks, 

Portsmouth, Va., and Marine Corps Base, San Diego, Calif. There they 

receive the technical training and instruction to fit them for taking 

their places in a Marine detachment on board ship. 

This system assures standardized individual basic training, 

and affords opportunity to improve training methods through the control over the two depots exercised by Marine Corps Headquarters, and 

assures the maintenance of a standard of efficiency in this training. 
90 MCH Vol. 2, No. 1

In marksmanship it has proved especially valuable. Assuring, as it 

does, the provision of instructor whose efficiency is above average, 

it starts the recruit off with a thorough understanding of the fundamental and prevents his being handicapped by faulty habits, which 

if acquired at the beginning of his service, are difficult, if not 

impossible, to eradicate.24

The recruit training system in use should be continued on 

the approach of and during a national emergency, the personnel of 

the depots being appropriately expanded, and one new depot being 

established. It should be possible to reduce the period of recruit 

training to six weeks.

(2) Branch training. Personnel must be trained as Infantry, 

Artillery, Aviation, Engineers and Signal Troops, in order to provide a force of all arms for service with the fleet.

(a) Infantry. Training in Infantry weapons is given at 

the Infantry Weapon Schools at Quantico and San Diego. Centers for 

this training should, when training for war, be organized at such 

other training centers as may be necessary.

(b) Artillery. Training with the 75 mm gun, the pack 

howitzer, and the 155 mm gun, is given in the 10th Regiment at Quantico, and in the Artillery battery at San Diego.

(c) Engineers. This training is given at Quantico and 

San Diego.

(d) Signals. This training is given in the signal school 

at Quantico, and at San Diego.

(e) Infantry, Artillery, Engineer and Signal training 

centers would be organized, in the event of war, at other training 

centers in addition to Quantico and San Diego.

(f) Aviation. Marine Corps Aviation forms a part of naval aviation. Officer candidates, after going through the elimination 

flight course take the course at Pensacola where they may qualify as 

naval aviators. A limited number of aviators. A limited number of 

aviators also take the courses at the various Army Aviation School. 

Training is continued in the various organizations. At Quantico the 

Aircraft Squadrons, East Coast Expeditionary Force are stationed, 

consisting of one fighting squadron, two observation squadrons, and one 

utility squadron, in addition to appropriate auxiliary organizations.

A detachment from this organization is now serving in Nicaragua. The 

Aircraft Squadrons, West Coast Expeditionary Force, are stationed at 

the Naval Air Station, San Diego, Calif., and consist of one fighting, 

one observation and one utility squadron, and necessary auxiliaries. 

24 Throughout his career, Holcomb placed a premium on marksmanship. From 1901 to 1911, he served on or commanded the Marine Corps 

Rifle Team, winning several championships. During the First World War, Holcomb also saw the value of marksmanship skills at the Battle of Belleau Wood and others engagements. He thus personally helped to establish the tradition that every Marine is a rifleman. See Ulbrich, Preparing 

for Victory, 13; and, for context, see Maj Robert E. Barde, The History of Marine Corps Marksmanship (Washington, DC: Marksmanship Branch, 

G-3 Division, Headquarters Marine Corps, 1961), 1–3, 8–17.
Summer 2016 91

One observation squadron is on duty with the First Marine Brigade, 

Haiti. Two squadrons are serving on the carriers with the fleet. As 

many reserve pilots as funds permit are trained annually.

In a major emergency, existing facilities, suitably expanded, will take care of aviation trading.

(3) Officers. The officers’ school system consists of a basic 

course of nine months which all officers take upon entry into the 

service; a company officers’ course, a field officers’ course, and the 

Navy War College. In addition, a limited number of officers attend 

the company and field officers’ courses at Fort Benning, the battery 

and field officers’ courses at Fort Sill, the Cavalry, Coast Artillery, Chemical Warfare Service, Motor Transport, and Air Service 

Tactical schools, the Command and General Staff School, the Army 

War College, and the Ecole de Guerre; and officers are studying the 

language in China, Japan and Spain. In a major emergency the Marine 

Corps school would cease to function, and officer candidate school 

would be organized.25

e. Provision of organizations for guarding naval shore establishments.

Practically all naval shore establishments have garrisons of 

the Marine Corps for their protection. There are at this time fifty 

such garrisons in the United States, guarding navy yards and stations, radio stations, aviation stations, ammunition depots and 

naval hospitals. The mission of such detachments is to protect the 

activity of which it is a part, which it accomplishes by establishing a guard system to control the entrance and exit of persons and 

things at the various gates, and to prevent ingress and egress elsewhere, to protect certain buildings and activities, to furnish a fire 

fighting unit, and in war to prevent sabotage.

The Marine Corps also furnishes garrisons to protect naval activities beyond the seas, such as, the naval stations at Cavite, 

Guantanamo Bay, Olongapo [Philippines], Pearl Harbor, Coco Solo 

[Panama Canal Zone] and Guam.26

In time of peace the strength of these organizations in the United 

States is held to the minimum necessary to do the guard duty, with 

a small overhead.

In a major emergency the strength and number of these detachments must undergo a considerable increase. Thus type of service is 

useful in time of peace, as it accustoms the personnel to Navy meth25 Holcomb definitely benefitted from the PME system that allowed him to better understand the higher levels of war and the other branches 

of the armed forces, which explains why he supported expansion of training and educational opportunities for Marines. See Donald F. Bittner, 

“Foreign Military Officer Training in Reverse: U.S. Marine Corps Officers in the French Professional Military Education System in the Interwar 

Years,” Journal of Military History 57, no. 3 (July 1993): 481–510. 26 Looking back and with benefit of hindsight, Holcomb was correct in naming these and other advance bases on Wake and Midway, see 

memorandum by Commander-in-Chief, U.S. Pacific Fleet, to Chief of Naval Operations, 2 December 1941, appended in Ulbrich, “Clarifying the 

Origins,” 107–9. 
92 MCH Vol. 2, No. 1

ods and the Navy point of view, and affords opportunity for close 

association with officers of the Navy, which is necessary if proper 

cooperation s to be secured in war.

f. Provision of organizations for service on naval vessels. 

All battleships, the 3” gun cruisers, airplane carriers, and 

the vessels of the Special Service Squadron carry, as an integral 

part of the ship’s company, a marine detachment, varying in size 

from a lieutenant and forty men, to a captain, a lieutenant and one 

hundred twenty six men. There are at present thirty four such detachments, with a total strength of about two thousand officers and 

men.

Field officers serve on the staff of division, squadron and 

force commanders.

Each marine detachment on board ship is organized as a company, 

and constitutes one division of the ship’s company of which it is an 

integral part; it is one company of the ship’s landing force. Likewise the detachments of a division, squadron or force marine officers 

for land operations. The detachment performs all guard duty; man’s 

part of the battery, fire control and communications, and enters in 

general into the life and activities of the ship.

This duty, which has been performed ever since the organization 

of the Corps, has contributed more than anything else to give to the 

Corps its individual character. It is on board ship and on expeditions that officers and men learn the sea habit, the Navy point of 

view and language, and where they learn how to work with the Navy. 

And it is these things that give to unity of command, which is provided by law, its real value. For unity of command alone does not assure cooperation where differences of viewpoint, habit, method, and 

even technical language, are all tending toward misunderstanding, 

jealousy, and hence dispersion of effort. And this ability to work 

together cannot be learned at schools or overnight; it comes from 

the combined experience of the whole personnel, and constitutes the 

tradition of the Corps, to be handed on to generations of recruits, 

both commissioned and enlisted.27

“The marines derive most valuable training from their 

service on board men-of-war, which greatly increases their efficiency for operations in connection with the fleet, in which 

large numbers will be employed in the future. By their sea duty 

they acquire the sea habit, and learn to maintain themselves 

in the narrow confines of ship life. They acquire knowledge of 

27 Holcomb recognized here that cross-training and cross-fertilization of Marine and Navy personnel was essential to effective operations. In 

reality, however, as seen in the Navy-Marine relations on Guadalcanal and elsewhere, the two Services did not always cooperate effectively. Still 

more problems could be seen when Army units were added to the mix. The need for multiple branches working in concert can be seen a few 

years later in 1938 in the Joint Army and Navy Basic War Plan Orange, Joint Board No. 325, Serial 618, Microfilm 1421, Reel 10, National Archives, 

College Park. More recently, such cross-training and cross-fertilization of doctrine in the U.S. Marine Corps, Air Force, Army, and Navy personnel 

is known as “joint” training and operations is epitomized by Amphibious Operations, Joint Publication 3-02 (Washington, DC: Joint Chiefs of 

Staff, 2014), http://www.dtic.mil/doctrine/new_pubs/jp3_02.pdf.
Summer 2016 93

naval ideas and principles, which promote harmonious action on 

occasions of stress, and they establish personal acquaintances 

and relations with the officers and men of the Navy which further tend to promote cooperation at times when acting in conjunction with the Navy. On the whole, this service of marines 

on board ships is of the greatest value to the naval service, 

and it stamps upon the Marine Corps its character as a seagoing organization.”28

g. Provision if expeditionary forces for service with the fleet, 

to: seize advanced bases, defend advanced bases, and carry out other 

minor missions in support of the fleet.

(1) During the days of sail, a fleet could keep the sea 

almost indefinitely, subject in general only to the necessity 

of replenishing provisions. With the coming of steam, such 

freedom of action disappeared. The necessity for fuel alone 

limits naval operations to a definitely known distance from a 

base. While the adoption of oil as a fuel has materially increased the steaming radius of naval vessels, such radius of 

action is still relatively small, and the naval operations to 

be expected in a maritime war cannot be carried out entirely 

from bases in the continental United States. Red has by one 

means or another provided herself with a chain of bases which 

will permit her to operate with her fleet in any sea theatre, 

as long as she holds these bases. But the United States, whose 

only overseas bases are at Panama, Hawaii, and Manila will be 

unable to maintain her position in the Orient, if challenged 

by a sea power, without the seizure and defense of a number 

of advanced bases in the Pacific.29

Fuel is not the only consideration which demands a naval base in 

the theatre of operations. Provisions and ammunition, both carried 

on board ship and in the train, but in limited quantities, bust be 

replenished; repairs must be carried out, casualties replaced, and 

crews, particularly of such types as destroyers and submarines, must 

be rested. These things must be done in the security of a base; and 

in our case the base must be seized, organized and defended after the 

outbreak of war. While to a certain extent fuel, ammunition and provisions can be carried in the train, this method cannot replace overseas 

bases, because of the enormous number of ships that would be needed 

for an operation in a distant theatre, which in turn would handicap 

the movements of the fleet and require the expenditures of great effort in its defense. While some supplies may be obtained from neutral 

sources, dependence on such a source is manifestly impossible.

28 BGen Rufus H. Lane, “The Mission and Doctrine of the Marine Corps,” Marine Corps Gazette (March 1925): 3. 29 This section expanded on his memorandum because Holcomb combined an understanding of the United States’ strategy and logistical needs 

in the Pacific with the need for an effective logistical system. The next section lays the foundation for Holcomb to advocate for base defense 

units—later called defense battalions—to protect the nation’s far–flung island bases in the Pacific. See relevant chapters in Thomas M. Kane, Military Logistics and Strategic Performance (Portland, OR: Frank Cass, 2001); and Sam J. Tangredi, Anti-Access Warfare: Countering A2/D2 Strategies (Annapolis: Naval Institute Press, 2013). 
94 MCH Vol. 2, No. 1

Landing operations are required, not only for the seizure of 

navel advanced bases, but also for the purpose of denying such a 

base to the enemy. The increasing importance of aircraft in naval 

warfare, and the limitation imposed by international agreements on 

aircraft carriers, indicates the desirability of employing shore 

based aircraft against naval vessels. This will make it necessary at 

times to seize land areas within a naval theatre as a base for our 

aircraft, or to deny the enemy such a base.

(2)By their mobility, by their training for amphibious operations, by their knowledge of the sea, and by the fact of unity 

of command, the Marine Corps is fitted to perform the naval task 

of seizing and defending advanced bases.

It has attained a high degree of mobility. Repeatedly it has had 

the experience of starting on expeditions in the shortest possible 

time, and has developed the technique of rapidity of movement. Such 

mobility is characteristic of the Navy, of which the Marine Corps 

is a part, and is a very essential quality for success in naval 

warfare. Their knowledge of the sea, their ability to live on board 

ship and at the same time maintain their health and efficiency, their 

experience of operating with naval personnel, all qualify them for 

this duty. The close coordination necessary in landing operations 

if they are to succeed, the frequent failure of combined operations 

in the past, all point to the importance of unity of command, which 

is automatic in operations in which the Marine Corps is employed.30

(3) Ship-to-shore operations.

(a) General. The seizure, from the sea, of a defended base, 

is probably the most difficult military operation, largely 

because of the inherent difficulties of moving men and impedimenta from ship to shore, in the face of even weak opposition. While in some ways resembling the passage of a river 

line, it differs from the latter in many respects, one being the difficulty of obtaining artillery support. It may be 

likened to an attack in land warfare, in which the attacking 

troops move in trucks to the enemy front line and there debus.

(b) Transports. While it is desirable that the transports 

for troops intended for ship-to-shore operations be especially designed and equipped, it is believed that considerations 

of economy will make it impossible to build any considerable number for this purpose, and that use will be made of 

available commercial shipping. So far as their defensive 

characteristics are concerned, these ships must be prepared 

for attack from the air and from submarines. They should be 

provided with an anti-aircraft battery, but must depend, for 

30 Holcomb convincingly articulated operational and tactical niches for the Marine Corps in the U.S. Navy’s strategic plans.
Summer 2016 95

protection against torpedo attack on their speed and on such 

protection as may be available from anti-submarine vessels. 

They should be capable of a sustained speed of not less than 

fifteen knots, and of full speed not less than twenty knots, 

which will give reasonable protection from submarines when 

free to maneuver.

(c) Considerations affecting the organization and equipment 

of a division for ship-to-shore operations.

Ship to shore operations for the seizure of a base or denial of a 

base to the enemy, have limited objectives and do not, as a rule, 

contemplate movement to any great distance from the beach.

All equipment must be capable of being transported to the beach 

in the type of boat habitually found in the fleet---the motor sailor. 

While this boat is not by any means ideal, and while special types 

which would lessen the difficulties of landing operations could be 

designed, it is believed that such special boats will not be built 

in time of peace, and will not be available at the outbreak of war; 

and that therefore motor sailors will be used.31

All equipment must be capable of being man-handled at least for 

short distances, moved on hand carts, or packed on mules if locally 

available. Rolling kitchens, water carts, tank trucks, have no place 

in the equipment of the organization under discussion.

The division must have a much greater mobility than the present 

Infantry Division, J.S.A. [Joint Security Area], and must be capable 

of being broken up into task groups.

Animals should not be used in a landing force, being too difficult to 

handle in landing operations, and requiring too much cargo space for 

both animals and their forage. Motor traction and manpower must be 

depended on. Trucks should not be used, light tractors and trailers 

are recommended. The Cole (hand) cart will meet requirements of machine gun and howitzer transportation, ammunition, water and rations. 

The fact that objectives are limited and deep penetration from 

the beach is not as a rule contemplated, simplifies supply in general. This makes it possible to maintain a relatively large proportion 

of artillery and automatic weapons. The fact that the organization, 

after reaching its limited objective must be prepared for a stubborn 

defense, with little room for maneuver, points to the desirability 

of having such a large proportion of these weapons.

The United States Army is organized on the triangular system in 

the company, battalion and regiment; in the brigade and division, on 

31 Holcomb acknowledged that no mission-specific amphibious assault vehicle existed in 1932. He also pointed to the future development of 

such specialized craft. As it worked out in the late 1930s, the Marine Corps used amphibious assault craft adapted from two civilian designs—the 

“Alligator” amphibian and the “Higgins” boats—with very positive results. See Victor H. Krulak, First to Fight: An Inside View of the U.S. Marine 

Corps (Annapolis: Naval Institute Press, 1984), 88–92, 100–2; Timothy Moy, War Machines: Transforming Technologies in the U.S. Military, 1920–

1940 (College Station: Texas A&M University Press, 2001), 117–18, 150–57; and Jerry E. Strahan, Andrew Jackson Higgins and the Boats that Won 

World War II (Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University Press, 1994), 24–39. 
96 MCH Vol. 2, No. 1

the square system. The square organization of the two latter echelons gives greater driving power because it lends itself to relief 

and passage of lines by regiments and brigades. It was effective in 

the World War, where divisions and brigades, due to the absence of 

flanks, were compelled to penetrate, and where the long durations of 

battles, due largely to this absence of flanks, required reliefs and 

passage of lines. The triangular system lends itself to maneuver, 

and the arguments which indicate it as suitable in the lower echelons, are equally applicable, at least in landing operations, to 

the division. While it is true that Marine Corps organizations may 

in the future, as in the past, be detached from service with the Army 

when no longer needed by the Navy, it is believed that this consideration should not be given great weight in determining organization; 

but that the Marine Corps division should be organized specifically 

for landing operations.32

The Army Infantry platoon with its two sections of three squads 

each, is organized with a view to employment initially in two echelons. Because of the great difficulty and great importance of control, in ship-to-shore operations, this platoon is too large. The 

four squad platoon in use in the Marine Corps can be transported in 

one boat, and insures that there shall be an officer in each boat, 

which is most important.

Inasmuch as in both offensive and defensive situations, the 

platoons of the howitzer company habitually serve, one with each 

battalion, and since the howitzer weapons are usually located in the 

same general area as the machine guns, and are similarly transported, the Marine Corps organization which does away with the howitzer 

company and places a howitzer platoon in each machine gun company, 

is believed to be sound. It is desirable that the howitzer personnel 

should be trained and administered by the battalion commander under 

whom they serve in battle. 

The 75 mm. field gun is not suited for landing operations because 

of difficulties of transport. The same objection applies to the Navy 3 

inch landing gun, which is heavier and ballistically inferior to the 

former. The 75 mm. pack howitzer, however, meets all the objections to 

the gun, and appears to be ideally suited for this type of operation. 

Aviation is the vital to success in ship-to-shore operations, 

for reconnaissance,

Spotting, supporting gunfire,

attacking enemy ground troops,33 

attacking enemy aviation,

laying smoke screens.

32 Holcomb expanded here on his memorandum regarding the desirability of the “triangular” division with its three regiments over the “square” 

division with its two brigades subdivided into two regiments. He also recognized the need for a Marine division to be more heavily armed in 

artillery and automatic weapons than a typical Army division. 

33 Precursor to close air support (CAS).
Summer 2016 97

These missions must be carried out, during the landing operations, by naval aviation, as the organic aviation of the division 

will not normally be able to function until the operation has progressed to the point where the crated planes can be taken a shore, 

set-up, and landing field prepared. Prior to this time, there are 

available, for spotting gunfire, the observation planes of the firing 

ships. Reconnaissance, attacking enemy troops and aviation must be 

carried out by carriers will be available to assist in this work. 

Observation and pursuit aviation are required in the division. 

The former type may carry out attack and light bombardment missions. 

Engineers are required in the approximate proportion founding the 

Infantry Division. They will be required to organize the position 

for defense, construct obstacles both on shore and in the water, 

construct and repair roads, construct wharves, and in general perform the duties of division engineers.

Division signal troops must be prepared to maintain communication from the division command post forward by telephone, radio, 

and visual, with airplanes by panels and radio, and with supporting 

ships and the next higher commander by radio. They must be familiar 

with naval communication procedure.

The medical regiment will be responsible for the collection, 

transportation and hospitalization of the sick and wounded. Causalities will be evacuated to hospital ships when possible. 

Special troops.

In addition to signal already discussed, headquarters, service 

and military police companies are required. The necessity for tanks 

in the operations under discussion is problematical, and can only 

be determined after a study of the particular operation. A company 

of light tanks should be organized, and omitted when not required.

(d) From the above considerations, the following division organization appears to meet the requirements:

One infantry Brigade, of three regiments, each of three 

battalions, of three rifle and one machine gun and howitzer company.

Aggregated strength of battalion – 662

“ “ “ regiment – 2272

“ “ “ Brigade – 6904 

One artillery regiment, of three battalions, of three 

batteries each Aggregate strength of artillery regiment 

– 1611; 56 guns.

Aviation group of observation and one pursuit squadron, 

each of twenty five planes.
98 MCH Vol. 2, No. 1

Total personnel – 735.

Engineer battalion – 397.

Medical Regiment – 483.

Division Service Company – 135.

Signal Company – 124.

Military Police Company – 76.

Division Headquarters and headquarters Company – 280.

Division Train – 234.

Flank Company – 106 (15 light tanks).

Total for Division – 11,085. 

(e) Defense of a Base.

A force defending a naval advanced base must be prepared 

to resist enemy landing operations and raids by cruisers, 

destroyers and aviation. For defense against landing operations the division as above organized, or a smaller task group 

there from when the whole division is not required, should be 

used. For defense against raids by light naval vessels---for 

capital ships are not likely to be risked on such missions-

--heavier artillery is needed. For defense against air the 

organic aviation is available. But antiaircraft artillery 

and machine guns, with searchlights and sound locators are 

needed. It is therefore apparent that a base defense force, 

organized as an artillery brigade, landed after the offensive 

operations for the seizure of the base are concluded of the 

base could then be determined. The heavy casualties to be 

expected where serious resistance to landing operations is 

offered, would probably materially reduce its strength.

(f) The suggested organization of the base defense is as follows:

A headquarters, 58 aggregate.

A 155 mm. gun regiment, aggregate 741, consisting of 

a headquarters, headquarters and service company, and 

three battalions of two batteries each, in all 24 guns.

An antiaircraft regiment, aggregate 861, with one 

searchlight and three gun batteries (12-3” antiaircraft 

guns) with sound locators; a machine gun battalion, 

with one searchlight battery and two machine gun batteries, each with 24, 50 caliber antiaircraft machine 

guns, and sound locators.

(g) Other minor operations.

Such operations consist of occupying certain small countries, as has been done by the Marine Corps in time of peace, 
Summer 2016 99

in Haiti, Santo Domingo and Nicaragua; and of the protection 

of national interests abroad, as in the case of the legation 

guard at Peiping, and the Fourth Regiment at Shanghai. For 

such operations the division as recommended or a task group 

therefrom is suitable.34

(h) Replacements for the division and base defense force 

should be trained at the training centers in the United 

States, by branch, and forwarded on requisition from the commander-in-chief, when transportation is available. 

(signed) T. Holcomb

 Col. U.S.M.C.

34 Again, as in his memorandum, Col Holcomb relegated “minor operations” (i.e., “small wars”) to a lower priority than the amphibious assault 

and base defense units in the Corps. Nevertheless, it is worth noting that, later in 1935, then-BGen Holcomb supervised the compiling of the 

first edition of the Small Wars Manual during his stint as the commandant of the MCS. Although mostly forgotten in the 1940s and 1950s, this 

seminal document would be dusted off and utilized by the Marine Corps in Vietnam. More recently, the Small Wars Manual was a significant 

foundation for the recent Counterinsurgency, FM 3-34/MCWP 3-33.5 (Washington, DC: Headquarters Department of the Army and Headquarters Marine Corps, 2006), http://usacac.army.mil/cac2/Repository/Materials/COIN-FM3-24.pdf. Under the auspices of the U.S. Army Combined 

Arms Center at Fort Leavenworth, the Army’s LtGen David H. Petraeus and the Marine Corps’ LtGen James F. Amos supervised the research 

and compilation of the 2006 manual. For a unique institutional study of the Corps during the early twentieth century, see Keith B. Bickel, Mars 

Learning: The Marine Corps Development of Small Wars Doctrine, 1915–1940 (Boulder, CO: Westview Press, 2001). Numerous books, articles, 

and studies devoted to counterinsurgency (COIN) have appeared since 2001.
Edward J. Erickson and Meghan V. Ederle*

I

n high-intensity combat, in such conicts 

as World War II, Korea, and Vietnam, commanders maintained unit strength by balancing casualties with incoming replacements and 

transferring personnel within units. Personnel management is a vital warghting function when combat 

units are activated or when they are drawn down by 

attrition or transfer to other units. e military sta 

section responsible for this function is known as the 

G-1, which is responsible for unit strength, personnel matters, and administration.2

 In contemporary 

operations, which are characterized by low-intensity 

combat with far fewer casualties and almost immediate individual replacements, this critical warghting 

function is seldom seen or exercised. In turn, G-1s 

today are oen le out of tactical training exercises 

and professional military education curriculums 

as more compelling sta skills, such as operations, 

planning, and logistics, take real-world priority. As 

a counterpoint, this article presents the role of the 

G-1 as an operationally critical warghting component of U.S. Army General Douglas MacArthur’s 

plan for a joint amphibious invasion at Inchon (Operation Chromite) during the Korean War. In fact, 

without the G-1s, the activation of the amphibious 

headquarters and the reconstitution of Marine and 

Army divisions, which provided MacArthur with 

the necessary force, Operation Chromite could not 

have been executed.

Urgency Has Been the

Order of the Day1

THE ROLE OF THE G-1 IN OPERATION CHROMITE

e G-1 in War

e principal duty of the G-1 in combat is to maintain the personnel strength of the force. For individual Services, G-1s manage the assignment of 

appropriately trained personnel, their replacements 

when wounded or killed, and such administrative 

matters as promotions, awards, and pay. In addition 

to these functions, G-1s manage unit activations and 

deactivations as well as play a key role in the reconstitution of understrength units, which have been 

attrited in combat. At lower echelons, S-1s perform 

the same functions at brigade, regiment, and battalion levels. Today, at the higher combatant command 

levels, J-1s monitor the overall manpower situation 

and seek to maintain subordinate unit strength. In 

the Korean War, joint headquarters (as we know the 

term today) at theater level did not exist, and MacArthur’s general headquarters had a G-1, rather 

than a J-1, as did his subordinate eld army, army 

corps, and divisions.

Historically, there are a number of examples of 

the success of American combat operations hinging on the sta work of G-1s. In World War I, excessive casualties caused personnel shortages, which 

forced the American Expeditionary Forces to inactivate entire infantry divisions to provide infantry 

replacements for divisions at the front and labor 

troops for the lines of communications. In the fall of 

1944, mistakes in Army force structure and replacement planning created a critical infantry shortage 

* Dr. Edward J. Erickson is a retired U.S. Army officer and professor of military history at the Marine Corps University, Command and Staff College at Quantico, VA. Maj Meghan V. Ederle (AGC, USA) is a graduate of the Command and Staff College and is currently serving as the S-1, 

1st Brigade, 82d Airborne Division, at Fort Bragg, NC. The authors wish to thank Drs. Doug McKenna and Craig Swanson of the Marine Corps 

Command and Staff College for their review and advice.

1 Lynn Montross and Capt Nicholas M. Canzona, U.S. Marine Corps Operations in Korea, 1950–1953: The Inchon-Seoul Operation, vol. 2 (Washington, DC: Historical Branch, G-3, Headquarters Marine Corps, 1955), 330.

2 The section is also responsible for such administrative matters as individual and unit awards, postal service, performance and fitness reporting, 

exchange services, and paymaster and financial services.

100
Summer 2016 101

in General Dwight D. Eisenhower’s armies as the 

Germans shredded his infantry strength. Army G-1s 

inactivated antiaircra and antitank battalions and 

hunted down excess personnel in the U.S. Army Air 

Forces and in the U.S. Army Communications Zone, 

sending the men to ll infantry slots at the front. Another innovative solution (in spite of the misgivings 

of most Army ocers) involved integrating infantry 

platoons composed of blacks into all-white infantry 

battalions.3

 ese measures enabled Army G-1s to 

avert the worst of the infantry crisis and to maintain unit strength until the stateside training base 

increased the number of men training as infantry. 

In the early days of the Korean War, MacArthur’s 

G-1s served an equally critical role when his Army of 

occupation in Japan was unexpectedly tasked to go 

to war. Army G-1s stripped men from units remaining behind in Japan and cross-leveled skill sets to ll 

empty slots on the manning rosters of units deploying to Korea. ey administratively processed the 

personnel of departing regiments and battalions for 

immediate service in the combat zone. eir eorts 

were critical in deploying the handful of American 

units, which slowed the North Korean Army (or Korean People’s Army, NKPA) enough for MacArthur 

to establish a defensive perimeter at Pusan. Arguably, 

however, in the early days of the war the most critical role played by Army G-1s was the activation of 

the X Corps headquarters and the reconstitution of 

the 7th Infantry Division. Equally urgent eorts by 

U.S. Marine Corps G-1s ensured the availability of a 

provisional Marine brigade and an ad hoc amphibious planning sta. Later, Marine G-1s found and 

mobilized the manpower needed to reconstitute the 

1st Marine Division. Having these amphibious assets 

in hand on 15 September 1950 enabled MacArthur 

to conduct the successful amphibious landing at Inchon, by which he seized the initiative, which led to 

the nearly complete destruction of the North Korean 

eld armies.

An Operational Plan

without Resources

War broke out in Korea on 25 June 1950 when the 

NKPA attacked south across the 38th parallel. By 1 

August, the battered American and South Korean 

armies had been pushed into the Pusan Perimeter, 

facing defeat and withdrawal. MacArthur, serving 

as commander in chief Far East (CINCFE), oversaw 

this disaster from his headquarters in Japan. Against 

conventional operational logic, MacArthur decided 

to take the oensive by an enveloping maneuver 

from the sea and cut the North Korean lines of communications through a surprise amphibious landing 

at Inchon. From there, his forces would seize Seoul 

and cut o the enemy besieging the Pusan Perimeter. By 20 July, he was rm on his concept and three 

days later circulated his framework plan to selected 

members of his Far East Command (FECOM) sta. 

On the same day (23 July), MacArthur also informed 

the Joint Chiefs of Sta (JCS) that he intended to 

conduct a large-scale amphibious operation in midSeptember. Although MacArthur had wide experience in amphibious operations during World War 

II, FECOM had no amphibious stas and no major 

amphibious maneuver units available to support 

MacArthur’s plans. 

Without waiting for formal approval from his 

superiors, MacArthur instructed his chief of sta, 

Major General Edward M. Almond, to construct a 

Official U.S. Marine Corps photo

Although these Marines, arriving in Pusan in the fall of 

1950, are fresh looking and well-equipped, the anxiety 

of what they are about to face is apparent in their faces. 

From the ship, they went to the divisional replacement 

company as “casuals,” and the 1st Marine Division G-1 

section assigned them to understrength units. 

3 “African American Volunteer Infantry Replacements,” U.S. Army Center of Military History, http://www.history.army.mil/html/topics/afam

/aa-volinfreps.html.
102 MCH Vol. 2, No. 1

plan for a landing on the east or west coast of Korea. 

Despite the misgivings of his own sta and the JCS, 

MacArthur selected a landing site at Inchon, thereby 

initiating Operation Plan 100-B, which was soon 

given the codename Chromite. Conceptually, a U.S. 

Marine Corps landing force would seize the urban 

area of Inchon and advance rapidly to seize Kimpo 

Air Base. e Army would “land behind the Marines 

and advance on their right ank to seize the commanding ground south of Seoul.”4

 ese two forces 

would “form the strategic anvil as Eighth Army forces advanced from the Pusan Perimeter in the role of 

the hammer.”5

 Although Almond was not ocially 

assigned as the amphibious maneuver commander 

until 26 August, he directed the planning eort from 

inception through execution. Under Almond’s supervision, the FECOM G-3 formed a Joint Strategic Plans and Operations Group (JSPOG) to write 

a plan conforming to MacArthur’s ideas about the 

design of the campaign.

e immediate dilemma facing MacArthur was 

that the amphibious force itself simply did not exist. Demobilization and scal austerity had drawn 

the World War II Army and Marine Corps down to 

680,000 soldiers and 74,000 Marines. Moreover, the 

totals belied limited capability and capacity, and rising Cold War tensions in Europe created a competing theater for scarce American military resources. 

At the end of June 1950, FECOM was manned at 

49 percent of its authorized combat strength and 

26 percent of its service support strength. All units 

were poorly resourced, equipped, and manned. 

Each of MacArthur’s four divisions was short of its 

authorized war strength by nearly 7,000 men. For 

example, “On the whole none of the four divisions 

was capable of laying down more than 62 percent 

of its normal repower.”6

 FECOM had received no 

new equipment since World War II and little training was conducted to achieve combat eective units 

at battalion level or higher. eir occupation duties 

in Japan le troops untrained and ill-prepared for 

combat operations. 

On the peninsula by mid-July 1950, MacArthur’s 

Eighth U.S. Army (EUSA) comprised three of his 

four infantry divisions from occupation duty in Japan (24th and 25th Infantry Divisions and the 1st 

Cavalry Division). A fourth infantry division, the 

7th Infantry Division, remained in Japan and was 

used as a replacement pool, reducing it to cadre status. As reinforcements, the 2d and 3d Infantry Divisions were programmed for deployment from the 

continental United States. Additionally, MacArthur 

had a provisional Marine brigade, which was built 

around the Marine’s 5th Regimental Combat Team, 

ghting in the Pusan Perimeter.

e successful development and eventual manning for the proposed amphibious force can be tied, 

in part, to Almond’s rst duties on assignment to 

Japan in May 1946—he was assigned as the G-1 in 

charge of personnel matters for MacArthur’s headquarters in Tokyo. ough Almond had not worked 

with MacArthur previously, he quickly earned his 

place within MacArthur’s inner circle aer being promoted to deputy chief of sta of FECOM. In February 

1949, Almond replaced Major General Paul J. Mueller as MacArthur’s chief of sta. While MacArthur 

did not make his amphibious attack plan known to 

his chief of sta until a few days later, Almond was 

alongside his commander in Seoul at the very inception of the eventual assault plan. Both men saw the 

destruction of the capital city and the inept state of 

the Republic of Korea (ROK) Army. ey shared in 

the understanding that swi and bold U.S. action 

would be required to regain control of South Korea. 

Activating the Amphibious

Force Headquarters

On 7 August 1950, the JSPOG met to discuss the need 

for a headquarters organization capable of conducting the Inchon assault plan. e JSPOG identied a 

major gap in the planning capability within current 

structures and recommended two possible courses 

of action to ll the gap: either obtain approval and 

organization through U.S. Navy Admiral Arthur W. 

Radford, commander Fleet Marine Forces Pacic, or 

establish a provisional headquarters. In keeping with 

his personality and against the advice of his G-3 and 

deputy chief of sta, MacArthur selected the latter 

course of action. As such, “MacArthur wanted the 

detailed CHROMITE planning accomplished un4 Montross and Canzona, U.S. Marine Corps Operations in Korea, 58. 5 Ibid. 

6 Clay Blair, The Forgotten War: America in Korea, 1950–1953 (New York: Times Books, 1987), 44. 
Summer 2016 103

der his own close and constant supervision, and not 

by a group less subject to his direct view than his 

own GHQ [general headquarters] sta.”7 A Special 

Planning Sta (SPC) was formally organized on 15 

August, exactly one month before the eventual operation. e SPC was so named to maintain anonymity 

and concealment to work under great secrecy. 

e planning sta was comprised of hand-selected 

ocers, primarily from the existing FECOM sta. 

Again, MacArthur and Almond looked to men of 

steadfast loyalty, who could be counted on to implement MacArthur’s unpopular plan. On 5 August, 

Major General Clark L. Runer was appointed as 

the chief of sta of a provisional unit headquarters 

Chart created by W. Stephen Hill

7 James F. Schnabel, “Policy and Direction: The First Year,” in United States Army in the Korean War, CMH Pub 20-2-1 (Washington, DC: U.S. Army 

Center of Military History, 1992), 154.
104 MCH Vol. 2, No. 1

known at the time as X Force, but which would become an Army corps headquarters.8

 Runer had only 

arrived from the United States two days earlier, but 

was known as a sta genius, gaining MacArthur’s 

trust while serving with him in World War II. However, neither Almond nor Runer had personal experience in amphibious operations. In turn, Marine 

Colonel Edward A. Forney was appointed as the 

deputy chief of sta, bringing much needed amphibious operational expertise to the team. Forney was 

already in Japan to train Army regiments in amphibious operations, serving as the commander of Mobile 

Training Team Able, and was well known throughout 

FECOM.9

 Importantly, Forney brought with him 10 

Marine and 2 Navy ocers from the mobile training 

team who were specialists in amphibious operations. 

ese ocers immediately augmented the SPC and 

ve were later assigned as assistant G-2s, G-3s, and 

G-4s on the X Corps sta, while four others were assigned as assistants in the X Corps Fire Support Coordination Center.10

Colonel Richard H. Harrison lled the soon-tobe-critical role of G-1 personnel chief. Without formally assigned tables of organization and equipment, 

the G-1 had to rely on existing tables for similar units 

to develop a corps structure capable of functioning 

as a “separate corps along the lines of a eld Army 

headquarters.”11 G-3 operations responsibilities were 

assigned to Lieutenant Colonel John H. Chiles, a favored ocer of both MacArthur and Almond, at the 

time serving as Almond’s secretary of the general sta. 

Chiles had previously served as a commander under 

Almond in the 2d Infantry Division. Colonel Aubrey 

D. Smith, who had commanded under MacArthur 

in World War II, served as the G-4 logistics chief and 

Lieutenant Colonel William W. Quinn as the G-2 intelligence chief. While Army ocers lled these primary 

sta slots, Forney’s Marine Corps ocers provided 

the professional depth and expertise necessary for the 

conduct of amphibious operations. 

ese men worked around the clock on detailed 

planning for the landing at Inchon, working in secret 

at an old bomb shelter in a downtown Tokyo motor 

pool. is cell of planners would become the core of 

the soon-to-be-activated operational headquarters 

of the X Corps. e pressure and importance of the 

situation at hand was captured in the X Corps War 

Diary, and it marked one of the most successful races 

against time in military history. e target date for 

invasion was 15 September—just one month away. 

Because of the unique tidal conditions in Inchon Bay, 

failure to meet that deadline meant almost a month’s 

delay before another landing attempt could be made.

e sta ’s feverish and detailed work led to the 

recognition that X Force would be a unit of great size, 

leading Almond to recommend the activation of an 

Army corps headquarters. In a personal conversation 

with MacArthur about this subject, Almond casually mentioned that X Force might become X Corps 

(Tenth Corps), an inactivated unit, which had fought 

under MacArthur in the Philippines. On 12 August, 

MacArthur approved and issued CINCFE Operation 

Plan 100-B, specically naming the Inchon-Seoul 

area as the target of an amphibious invasion force. 

With MacArthur’s eyes set on the Inchon landing, his 

G-1 now set out to nd a way to activate the X Corps, 

a unit composed of both soldiers and Marines. e X 

Corps would be a mission-oriented unit, newly activated, without standard alignment within existing 

hierarchy and reporting directly to MacArthur for 

mission orders: “To insure independence of action, 

regardless of circumstances, MacArthur arranged 

for X Corps to serve directly under his own Far East 

Command. [e] Corps not only enjoyed separate 

status but it was lavished with extra components, being reinforced from normal corps size to the strength 

of a virtual eld Army.”12

On 30 August 1950, aer approval from the Department of the Army, MacArthur formally reactivated the X Corps headquarters, with Almond in 

command of both Army and Marine Corps divisions. In practice, however, Almond’s ad hoc and 

hastily thrown together corps headquarters proved 

to be a “half-baked aair.”13

8 Headquarters X Corps War Diary Summary for Operation Chromite: 15 August to 30 September 1950 (Fort Leavenworth, KS: Headquarters, 

United States X Corps, Combined Arms Research Library, 1950), 1.

9 Montross and Canzona, U.S. Marine Corps Operations in Korea, 4–7. 10 Ibid., 57–59.

11 Schnabel, “Policy and Direction,” 158.

12 Shelby L. Stanton, America’s Tenth Legion: X Corps in Korea, 1950 (Novata, CA: Presidio Press, 1989), 42. 13 Richard W. Stewart, Staff Operations, The X Corps in Korea, December 1950 (Fort Leavenworth, KS: Combat Studies Institute, 1991), 1.
Summer 2016 105

Reconstituting the

Amphibious Landing Force

In early July 1950, MacArthur sent a request to the 

JCS asking that a Marine regimental combat team 

and associated air units be dispatched to the Far 

East. MacArthur’s earliest vision for the landing 

force called for the 5th Marine Regiment (1st Marine 

Division) and the 2d Infantry Division to execute an 

amphibious assault that would “land behind North 

Korean lines in conjunction with a general oensive 

by Eighth Army from the south.”14 e eventual X 

Corps, however, would be a larger force comprised 

of 1st Marine Division and 7th Infantry Division as 

the assault force and 3d Infantry Division in reserve, 

along with varied supporting elements and the I 

ROK Corps under operational control.

At the time, within the Marine Corps, the ongoing 

ght for relevance and existence contributed its own 

urgency to the mission. Consolidation of the U.S. 

armed forces was a highly debated political topic, 

and some military and political leaders were pushing 

strongly for dissolution of the Corps. e Commandant of the Marine Corps, General Clion B. Cates, 

was more than willing to prove the legitimacy of the 

Corps through the rapid and successful deployment 

of a large-scale amphibious assault force. Much like 

MacArthur, Cates did not wait for approval from the 

JCS in his orders to prepare the active Marine Corps 

and its organized and individual reserves for duty in 

the combat zone. 

e stateside 1st Marine Division, like the rest 

of the military, was reduced to peacetime strength, 

less than two-thirds of its combat capable strength, 

following World War II. Moreover, since the North 

Korean invasion, the division had been stripped of 

both personnel and equipment to eld a provisional 

brigade for the Korean ght. However, Commander 

of Fleet Marine Forces Pacic Lieutenant General 

Lemuel C. Shepherd Jr. assured Almond that the unit 

could be quickly reconstituted, deployed, and prepared for the amphibious assault by mid-September. 

Based on this assurance, MacArthur made a third 

formal request on 19 July to the Joint Chiefs for a 

full strength Marine division and its associated air 

wing.15e need for Marines was so great that President Harry S. Truman approved a request by Cates 

on the same day to activate the entire ground element of the Marine Corps Organized Reserve and 

attached Navy medical units.16is was possible only 

because Cates and his personnel ocers had already 

given warning orders and worked out many of the 

details for a mass call-up. Cates then further directed 

that the “1st Marine Division be brought to full war 

strength within three weeks. is was a task that required approximately the same number of marines 

as existed in the entire Fleet Marine Force.”17

Major General Oliver P. Smith took command of 

the 1st Marine Division on 26 July, and within two 

weeks, he saw his outt grow from a bare framework 

of 7,000 Marines to a full, war-strength division 

of 17,162 men. Highlighting the sense of urgency, 

13,703 of those Marines joined the division in the 

rst week of its mobilization. Both Regular and 

Reserve troops provided augmentation from units 

scattered about the globe. e 1st Marine Division’s 

initial planning group was aboard the USS Mount 

McKinley (AGC 7) (an amphibious command ship), 

then docked in Tokyo harbor, when it received its 

preliminary brieng for Operation Chromite on 19 

August. is le only 20 days of planning time prior 

to scheduled deployment of attack forces on 9 September, making it “probably the shortest period ever 

allotted to a major amphibious assault.”18 e division G-1, Marine Colonel Harvey S. Walseth, and 

two assistants ew to Japan to join the initial planning group and began the arduous task of preparing 

the personnel annex to the plan.19

Once activated, most 1st Marine Division subordinate units consolidated at Marine Corps Base 

Camp Pendleton, California, for rapid training, organization, and equipping prior to setting sail for 

Japan in the rst days of September 1950. Personnel 

and equipment were gathered from bases through14 Ibid., 32.

15 Montross and Canzona, U.S. Marine Corps Operations in Korea, 20. 16 Ibid., 22

17 Danny J. Crawford et al., The 1st Marine Division and It’s Regiments (Washington, DC: History and Museums Division, U.S. Marine Corps, 1999), 3. 18 Ibid., 55.

19 LtCol Michael Bonura, USA, Maj Michael Padilla, USAF, and Maj Kwan Seop Lee, ROKA, “The Importance of Professionalism: An Analysis of the 

1st Marine Division Planning Process for the Amphibious Assault on Inchon,” Marine Corps History 1, no. 2 (Winter 2015): 16.
106 MCH Vol. 2, No. 1

out the United States. e rst regiment of the division, 1st Marines, was reactivated on 4 August 

by the redesignation of the 2d Marines, 2d Marine 

Division. is occurred barely 10 months aer inactivation intended to reduce the size of the Corps 

following World War II. More than 9,000 Marines 

transferred from Marine Corps Base Camp Lejeune, 

North Carolina, to Camp Pendleton. e 3d Battalion, 1st Marines, reconstitution paints a picture 

indicative of the accelerated buildup: “In about 10 

days, the two-element, half-strength battalion expanded into a three-element, full-strength battalion. 

e two rie companies in the battalion each numbering about 100 men were doubled in size with a 

third rie platoon added . . . A heavy machine gun 

platoon was created and third sections were added to 

the antitank assault and 81mm mortar platoons . . . 

e pressure of the unknown D-Day gave almost no 

time for unit shake-down and training.”20

To make matters worse, the 1st Battalion, 6th Marines, which became the 3d Battalion, 1st Marines, 

had only recently returned from a six-month deployment to the Mediterranean.21 e unit’s Marines 

traveled directly to Camp Pendleton by troop train 

for the hurried reorganization. e second regiment, 

7th Marines, was reactivated on 17 August and sailed 

for Japan just two weeks later. Its reconstitution was 

more complex. e 6th Marines had already lost two 

battalions to the reactivated 1st Marines but nevertheless assembled to form the core of the newly 

minted 7th Marines. e 3d Battalion, 6th Marines, 

deployed at sea and dispersed across the Mediterranean, would become the 3d Battalion, 7th Marines. 

e unit joined the regiment in Japan, and by the 

time the tour was complete “these military tourists would have traveled entirely around the world 

by various forms of land, water, and air transportation.”22 Additional personnel for that unit, including the reconstructed third rie company, would 

come from Camp Pendleton and join the regiment 

in Japan. To bring the unit to full war strength, the 

7th Marine Regiment lled nearly 50 percent of its 

personnel requirement with activated reservists, the 

largest proportion of any unit in the division. e 1st 

Battalion, 7th Marines, was derived from the reorganization of the Sixth Fleet Landing Force, which arrived at Pusan on 9 September and was then formally 

redesignated. Making things all the more dicult, 

the Commandant of the Marine Corps directed that 

all sergeants and below whose enlistments expired 

before 28 February 1951 were to be le behind.23

Already engaged in battle in Korea, the provisional Marine brigade, composed of the 5th Marine 

Regiment and the 1st Battalion, 11th Marines (artillery), was pulled from direct combat action on 

Official U.S. Marine Corps photo

Col Harvey S. Walseth served as the 1st Marine Division G-1 at Inchon. He was a Naval Academy graduate 

(class of 1935) and commanded the 1st Tank Battalion 

on Guadalcanal. He was awarded a Purple Heart for actions at the Chosin Reservoir and received the Legion 

of Merit for his brilliant leadership of the 1st Marine Division’s G-1 section in the Korean War. Col Walseth retired at Camp Pendleton, CA, after 25 years of service, 

and lived to the age of 101. 

20 BGen Edwin H. Simmons (Ret), “Over the Seawall: U.S. Marines at Inchon,” in U.S. Marines in the Korean War, ed. Charles R. Smith (Washington, 

DC: History Division, 2007), 81–82.

21 A Report of the Activities of the Fleet Marine Force Pacific from 25 June 1950 to the Amphibious Assault at Inchon, HQS, FMF Pacific, 6 December 1950, RG 127 (1120), V-2, National Archives and Records Administration (NARA), College Park, MD.

22 Montross and Canzona, U.S. Marine Corps Operations in Korea, 53. 23 A Report of the Activities of the Fleet Marine Force Pacific from 25 June 1950 to the Amphibious Assault at Inchon, II-5.
Summer 2016 107

5 September and moved to Pusan for reconsolidation with the division. In defending the perimeter, 

the regiment was ghting at its peacetime strength 

of only two rie companies per battalion. e third 

rie company arrived just days before the regiment 

sailed for Inchon on 10 September. e brigade 

headquarters formally inactivated on 13 September, 

and unfortunately, the G-1 aer action report details 

the period 7 July–6 September 1950, but does not 

cover the activities of the brigade in Pusan.24

e remainder of the 1st Marine Division converged on Kobe, Japan, and the scene there was unlike any previous operation. Units began arriving 

from the United States on 28 August and were required to be ready to sail for Inchon by 11 September. “ey and their gear would have to be unloaded, 

the equipment stacked, inventoried and loaded 

again, about thirty thousand tons of it, all in less 

than two weeks. It was unheard of. But then so was 

almost everything about this landing plan.”25ere is 

no indication that the G-1 section of the 1st Provisional Marine Brigade in Pusan had any opportunity 

to transfer its plans, standard operating procedures 

(SOPs), or “lessons learned” to its 1st Marine Division G-1 counterpart in Kobe.26

G-1 planning in Japan began on 19 August with 

the arrival (by air) of Colonel Walseth, an assistant 

G-1, and a clerk-typist.27 In addition to managing 

these complex manning and personnel operations, 

the planners of the undermanned 1st Marine Division G-1 section produced the complete personnel 

annex to the operations plan, SOPs for personnel 

actions in combat, and the production and distribution of unit and personnel orders. A recent analysis 

noted that “for the entirety of the planning process, 

the G-1 section performed tasks usually executed by 

the division adjutant because the adjutant section 

did not embark on the McKinley until 11 September 

1950.” Two signicant problems arose immediately 

for Walseth when orders came down to exclude all 

17-year-old Marines from entering combat as well as 

“sole surviving sons.”28By the day of the embarkation 

for Inchon, the G-1 transferred 465 17-year-old Marines as well as several “sole surviving sons” to the 

1st Armored Amphibian Tractor Battalion, which 

remained in Japan.29

Upon the arrival of the main elements of the division by sea, the chief of sta issued Division General 

Order Number 14, which established a provisional 

division administrative center, staed by 27 o-

cers and 109 enlisted men, detailed from battalions 

across the division.30 e center assumed custody 

of all service records, pay records, health records, 

and the les of the divisional headquarters and all 

subordinate units. e center deployed into Korea through Inchon and established itself in Kimpo 

and later in Seoul as the administrative hub of the 

division. Additionally it was responsible for “the assembling, logging, and mailing of the division sta ’s 

top-secret and secret operation and administrative 

orders” as well as Fleet Post Oce (FPO) mail, the 

exchange, civil aairs, and prisoner of war (POW) 

accounting.31

Reconstituting the

Follow-on Force

In July, MacArthur ordered the 24th Infantry, 25th 

Infantry, and 1st Cavalry Divisions to Korea, leaving only the cannibalized 7th Infantry Division in 

Japan. He also received, from elsewhere across the 

Army, the infantry and artillery battalions necessary 

to bring the EUSA up to battle strength. e EUSA 

resources were quickly and seriously depleted from 

early battles on the Korean Peninsula. e 24th Infantry Division was defeated in battles along the Kum 

River early in July. Elements of the 25th Infantry and 

1st Cavalry Divisions were also overwhelmed and 

severely weakened in engagements with the NKPA. 

Even with reinforcements from Okinawa, these units 

were quickly depleted by the continuous onslaught. 

e FECOM resources were running out, creating 

24 Annex Able, Report of the Brigade G-1 Section, to Special Action Report, 1st Provisional Marine Brigade, FMF (Rein), RG 127, File 88, 1–4.

25 Walton Sheldon, Hell or High Water: MacArthur’s Landing at Inchon (New York: Ballantine Books, 1968), 122. 26 Appendix 1-9 to Annex Able, Report of the Brigade G-1 Section and Annex Able, 1-4, NARA, RG 127, File 88.

27 Annex Able, 1st Marine Division Special Action Report, 29 November 1950, RG 127, File 53, 2, NARA.

28 Ibid., 4.

29 Ibid., 5.

30 Division General Order Number 14, 9 September 1950, Appendix 1, Annex Able, 1st Marine Division Special Action Report, 29 November 

1950, RG 127, File 53, NARA.

31 Bonura et al., “The Importance of Professionalism.” 
108 MCH Vol. 2, No. 1

even greater urgency in the execution of an amphibious landing to turn the tide of the war.

e 2d Infantry Division deployed from the United States to the Far East and was originally slated to 

be part of the Inchon assault force. However, with 

the collapsing perimeter at Pusan, MacArthur was 

forced to push the 2d Infantry Division into the 

front lines, replacing the unit for the landing operation with the 7th Infantry Division, still in Japan and 

manned at less than half strength.32 More than 1,600 

personnel had been transferred from the 7th Infantry 

Division to augment the remainder of EUSA units 

deploying to the peninsula. However, the continuing 

need for combat replacements continued to drain 

the division of able-bodied, combat-capable troops. 

By the end of July, the division was short more than 

9,000 men, a large proportion of who were critical 

specialists and noncommissioned ocer weapons 

leaders. On 26 July, MacArthur relieved the 7th Infantry Division, commanded by Major General David G. Barr, of its occupation duties in Japan. On 4 

Official U.S. Marine Corps photo

Unlike the well-stocked post exchanges (PXs) in combat zones today, the PXs in Korea in 1950 were austere 

to say the least. The 1st Marine Division G-1 section 

managed the allocation of daily PX “comfort rations” 

(i.e., candy, tobacco, and sundries) as well as the establishment of expedient PXs in the field, such as the one 

shown here. 

August, MacArthur further ordered Barr to bring his 

unit to full strength by 15 September and prepare to 

move to Korea. All replacement troops arriving in 

the Far East, including those slated for other EUSA 

units in active combat, were channeled into general 

headquarters reserve, eventually to ll the 7th Infantry Division in preparation for the amphibious assault, now the FECOM G-1’s top personnel priority. 

Experienced noncommissioned ocers were pulled 

from military schools in the United States to ll eld 

leadership positions and assist in training within the 

quickly expanding division. 

With the primary Army assault force still severely 

understrengthed, MacArthur resorted to an expedient, unorthodox, and unprecedented measure, 

namely authorizing incorporation of more than 8,000 

South Korean troops into the 7th Infantry Division. 

is was the inception of Korean Augmentation to 

the U.S. Army (KATUSA) program, which still exists 

today. Soon formalized through agreement between 

the ROK and U.S. Army, the KATUSA program integrated “South Korean soldiers into U.S. units, with 

the ROK Army retaining responsibility for their administration, pay, and discipline.”33 e KATUSA 

troops were not organized, trained, or even necessarily experienced military service members; most were 

newly conscripted Korean civilians. e ROK Army 

had been so decimated in the rst days of the war 

that in order to ll American augmentation quotas in 

short time, it resorted to enlisting men o the streets 

of Korean cities. ese recruits were sent directly to 

American units. ey were not uniformed or prepared for service, but in the last week of August, 

8,637 KATUSA recruits arrived at the 7th Infantry 

Division assembly area in Japan. e recruits were 

assigned primarily to infantry battalions. Preparing 

them for the discipline of combat service and military life was a task of great complexity in itself. 

One account of the state of KATUSA recruits, 

upon arrival in Japan, asserted “their clothing on arrival ranged from business suits to shirts and shorts, 

or shorts only. e majority wore sandals or cloth 

shoes. ey were civilians—stunned, confused, and 

exhausted. Only a few could speak English. Approximately 100 of the South Korean recruits were 

32 William J. Webb, The Korean War: The Outbreak, CMH Pub 19-6 (Washington, DC: U.S. Army Center of Military History, 2006), 6. 33 Terrence J. Gough, U.S. Army Mobilization and Logistics in the Korean War: A Research Approach, CMH Pub 70-19 (Washington, DC: U.S. Army 

Center of Military History, 1987), 47.
Summer 2016 109

assigned to each rie company and artillery battery; the buddy system was used for training and 

control.”34Another account added that “the Koreans 

we received looked as though they had been herded 

together to get them o the streets of Pusan. ey 

spent their rst week in Japan in quarantine, since 

they had to be deloused and cleaned. en we had 

to equip them completely . . . ey could not speak 

English and we had few interpreters . . . We had a 

long way to go in two weeks.”35

To establish combat readiness in these new 

KATUSA troops, EUSA established four training centers, but with the constrained schedule 

for the Inchon landing, many new Korean troops 

were sent directly into combat with U.S. units, 

receiving no training. Knowledge of the English 

language was not a prerequisite and in fact was 

practically nonexistent among KATUSA soldiers. 

With translators in short supply, training and integrating KATUSA troops was frustrating at best. 

Administrative issues abounded in many unexpected areas. Standard uniforms were hard to fit 

to the Korean men because most were more diminutive in size than average American troops. 

Feeding Koreans posed a significant change from 

the customary diet of primarily rice. The U.S. rations were higher in calories but lower in bulk, 

and this led to nearly constant complaints of hunger on the part of the KATUSA troops. In terms 

of technical training, it was nearly impossible to 

adequately train these new recruits in the proper 

use of weaponry, vehicles, and equipment. 

Korean men also were attached to the 1st Marine Division with 2,786 assigned on 15 September, 

a number which grew to 4,516 by 7 October.36 e 

Army and the Marines used these men in artillery and 

service units. Language barriers still existed, but these 

units were more adaptable to visual means of communication. Moreover, the Korean soldiers were highly 

skilled at distinguishing between North and South 

Koreans, a skill that was particularly helpful to U.S. 

units during the assault at Inchon and recapture of 

Seoul. Perhaps equally important, particularly during 

the Inchon invasion and recapture of Seoul, KATUSA 

troops were very valuable in handling of refugees, allowing U.S. units to focus on the combat mission. 

Conclusion

On 15 September 1950, the 3d Battalion, 5th Marines, 

landed at Green Beach on the tiny island of WolmiDo. With the second tide, additional elements of the 

5th Marines landed at Red Beach, south of the city of 

Inchon, while the 1st Marines landed at Blue Beach. 

ree days later, the 1st Marine Division captured 

Kimpo Air Base, and the rst elements of the 7th Infantry Division landed at Inchon with the mission of 

protecting the X Corps’ right ank. By 22 September, 

more than 53,000 personnel had landed or unloaded 

at Inchon. Operation Chromite was a stunning surprise and led to a spectacular victory, which restored 

the territorial integrity of the Republic of Korea. Although the war would drag on for several more years 

and end inconclusively, Operation Chromite ranks 

as a brilliant example of “Operational Art.”

ere is no question that, without the eorts of 

Army and Marine Corps G-1s, Operation Chromite could not have been launched or successfully 

executed. A self-generating sense of urgency led to 

the formation of a de facto Army corps headquarters, 

which was then activated as the X Corps. Most of this 

was done with men from within the FECOM headquarters itself but the integration of Colonel Forney’s 

Marines and Navy ocers was a critical factor in the 

success of the operation. Incredible eorts by Marine Corps G-1s enabled the reconstitution and deployment into combat of a Marine infantry division 

in less than 45 days. Equally remarkable eorts by 

Army G-1s led to the reconstitution of a combined 

American-South Korean infantry division in time 

for deployment as the follow-on force. ese unique 

achievements by what we might term today “human resource managers” were, in fact, a tribute to 

the professionalism and determination of the G-1s 

in the face of almost impossible circumstances. Of-

cers currently serving might look at these harshly 

compressed timelines and ask whether, given similar 

contingent circumstances, the joint force is capable 

of such urgent action today. s1775s

34 Roy E. Appleman, “South to the Naktong, North to Yalu,” in United States Army in the Korean War, CMH Pub 20-2-1 (Washington, DC: U.S. Army 

Center of Military History, 1961), 492.

35 Stanton, America’s Tenth Legion, 53. 36 Annex Able, 1st Marine Division Special Action Report, 5.
Reviewed by Keith D. Dickson

Soviet Leaders and Intelligence: Assessing the American Adversary during the Cold War. By Raymond L. 

Gartho. (Washington, DC: Georgetown University 

Press, 2015. Pp. 160. $49.95 cloth; $26.95 paperback 

and e-book.)

e Regional Cold Wars in Europe, East Asia, and 

the Middle East: Crucial Periods and Turning Points. 

Edited by Lorenz M. Lüthi. (Stanford, CA: Stanford 

University Press, 2015. Pp. 416. $65.00 cloth.)

Raymond Gartho is a towering gure in 

Cold War studies. He is the author of a 

number of standard works on the Cold 

War, including Détente and Confrontation: American-Soviet Relations from Nixon to Reagan (1994). In Soviet Leaders and Intelligence: Assessing the American Adversary during the Cold War, he 

has made another signal contribution to our understanding of this eventful period in world history. In 

a short, but powerful introduction, he provides an 

overview of the origins of the Cold War as well as 

an essential correction to revisionist historians who 

have been all too eager to provide a simplistic onedimensional portrayal of events.

Gartho provides invaluable insight into the bipolar world of the Cold War by examining Soviet 

intelligence assessments of its declared main adversary—the United States—from the onset of the Cold 

War under Joseph Stalin to its conclusion under 

Mikhail Gorbachev. 

Using Soviet archive material supported by interviews with key former Soviet intelligence and political gures, Gartho oers an exploration of the 

inner workings of the Soviet leadership structure, 

demonstrating what role, if any, Soviet intelligence 

estimates of the United States had on the decision 

making of Soviet leaders. What emerges is that Soviet leaders in general were more inuenced by their 

own perceptions and instincts, based on MarxistLeninist precepts, than by intelligence products. 

Stalin’s complete ignorance of the West in general and the United States in particular, combined 

with his doctrinaire attachment to Communist Party ideology, blinded him to the value of intelligence 

information provided to him. Nikita Khrushchev 

moved away from the idea of inevitable war between 

REVIEW ESSAY

Soviet Leaders and Intelligence

e Regional Cold Wars in Europe, 

East Asia, and the Middle East

Keith D. Dickson is a professor of military studies 

and the curriculum chair for theory and history at 

the Joint and Advanced Warfighting School, Joint 

Forces Staff College, National Defense University. 

He is the author of Sustaining Southern Identity: 

Douglas Southall Freeman and Memory in the 

Modern South (2011).

110
Summer 2016 111

capitalism and socialism, but never abandoned the 

xation that the United States was a deadly enemy 

threatening the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics 

(USSR), despite intelligence information indicating 

otherwise (p. 25). In fact, Gartho points out that 

intelligence information had nothing to do with 

Khrushchev’s stridently aggressive policies (p. 21). 

Leonid Brezhnev confronted the emergence of a 

dangerous Sino-Soviet conict and the challenge to 

Soviet hegemony in Eastern Europe with the Prague 

Spring of 1968. While the USSR and United States 

were still adversaries, there existed areas of common 

concern that would contribute to an avoidance of a 

general war between the two superpowers. Détente 

with the United States had emerged, but the relationship was tinged by the Committee for State Security’s (KGB) slanted assessments that were more 

symmetrical with the Communist Party line than 

an accurate reection of U.S. intentions. e 1972 

Brezhnev-Nixon summit and agreement on nuclear 

arms was portrayed as a moral-political victory for 

the USSR that advanced Soviet power and prestige.

Events moved swily between 1975 and 1983, in 

which détente was replaced with a revitalized Cold 

War stando. Brezhnev’s physical decline and his 

aging Politburo (policy making bureau of the Communist Party) made a series of catastrophic decisions 

in an attempt to advance Soviet interests. Gartho 

notes that the Soviet leadership at this time used intelligence assessments that reinforced the leadership’s 

own opinions and perceptions, but ignored assessments that oered alternative views. e leadership 

viewed the deployment of Pershing II ballistic missiles in Europe as evidence of the United States pursuing imperialist objectives and preparing for general 

nuclear war. e Politburo’s most fateful decision, the 

military intervention in Afghanistan, was made with 

no intelligence input. Although Soviet intelligence 

ocers, in fact, were strongly opposed to involvement in Afghanistan, the decision was driven largely 

by “enduring images” held by the leadership (p. 60).

Gartho ’s examination of the Soviet assessment 

of the Strategic Defense Initiative (SDI) in 1983 is 

one of the most valuable contributions in this book. 

He outlines how Soviet intelligence struggled to gain 

sucient information to assess whether SDI was disinformation—a blu intended to burden the Soviet 

defense economy—or valid reality and a threat to the 

existing nuclear balance of power (p. 65). e Ronald W. Reagan rollback of Communism and the rise 

of Gorbachev coincided to reshape relations aer 

1986. e decline in the Soviet leader’s belief in the 

ideological formulas that had driven so much of Soviet decision making in the past allowed Reagan and 

Gorbachev to move toward their mutual interest in 

reducing arms. Gorbachev’s apparent openness re-

ected a changed understanding of the world, based 

on contact with and some familiarity of the West; his 

willingness “to embrace new thinking openly and 

use it as a basis for state policy” was truly revolutionary (p. 77). is openness resulted in a number of 

new Soviet intelligence estimates and an entirely new 

set of collection priorities based less on identifying 

trigger points for global nuclear war and more on 

enhancing mutual security (p. 78). Nevertheless, like 

other Soviet leaders before him, Gorbachev relied on 

his own perceptions and understandings rather than 

intelligence provided to him; consequently, the intelligence assessments had no inuence on his thinking 

or the development of policy (pp. 82–83). e dissolution of the Soviet Union’s power in the waning 

years of the Cold War brought a return of the oldline intelligence assessments, portraying the United 

States as fostering CIA conspiracies and subversion 

within the USSR as part of its overall plan for imperialist conquest.

In the end, as George F. Kennan had predicted, 

the internal contradictions of the Soviet system itself provided the seeds for its own destruction. Soviet intelligence, for all of its vaunted capabilities and 

power, Gartho concludes, “did not play the primary 

role in shaping basic Soviet perceptions of the United States” (p. 99). Instead, Soviet espionage successes, and there were many, played a more ironic role. 

Rather than posing a direct threat to American or 

allied security, the access to certain secrets actually 

served as a condence building measure, supporting 

a more stable relationship. 

For every student of the Cold War, this small volume 

should be referred to frequently when reading any history of the Cold War. It is an indispensable resource 

when attempting to understand the background of 

Soviet actions and motivations. Teachers and scholars 

alike will benet immeasurably, as it is useful both in 

the classroom and as an essential reference.

A dierent, and far more expansive approach 
112 MCH Vol. 2, No. 1

to the Cold War is oered by Lorenz M. Lüthi and 

his contributors. As the title suggests, e Regional 

Cold Wars in Europe, East Asia, and the Middle East

steps away from the view of the Cold War solely as 

geostrategy, an ideological struggle characterized by 

the balance of power, proxy wars, and the search for 

security between the superpowers. Lüthi, in his introduction to this collection of essays, establishes an 

intriguing framework for examining the Cold War. 

He draws a dierence between the systemic (or vertical) Cold War of the United States and the USSR 

and the subsystemic (or horizontal) Cold War that 

linked regional actors together in the seams that 

existed in the bipolar strategic environment. ese 

seams allowed the subsystemic regional actors much 

more freedom of action and provided more indirect 

inuence on events than previously recognized or 

appreciated. e editor has divided the Cold War 

into four time periods, each one serving as the focal 

point for a series of regionally based essays. e rst 

period is (1953–56) establishes neutrality and nonalignment of states. e second period (1965–69) is 

characterized by a global perspective, détente, and 

the rise of the People’s Republic of China as a major 

inuence in promoting its own brand of revolution. 

e third period (1978–83) covers the second Cold 

War, the revival of tensions between the United States 

and the USSR, and the reaction and shaping of a new 

international order as the superpowers increasingly 

lost authority and control over regional events, as 

indicated by the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan and 

the Iranian revolution—both in 1979. e fourth period (1983–90) is characterized by the unravelling of 

the systemic Cold War structure, but leaves much of 

the subsystemic structure in place that arguably has 

served as the threshold of the security dilemmas of 

the twenty-rst century.

Robert J. McMahon’s introductory essay explains 

that the thrust of this collection is to highlight the 

insights of the contributors, who maintain that although the superpowers limited the initiative of 

smaller powers, nonetheless these smaller state actors played a highly signicant, and at times, pivotal 

role in shaping the contours of the Cold War. 

Lorenz Lüthi begins the rst collection of essays 

with an outline of how the boundaries of European 

state autonomy for both east and west became established, as the United States and the Soviet Union 

drew acceptable boundaries of action for its associated states. Jovan Čavoški in his essay observes that 

the Cold War system allowed smaller powers, such 

as Egypt, Yugoslavia, and India, to operate with great 

adroitness between the emerging superpower blocs 

and points to China developing at this time as an 

emerging alternative to the superpowers themselves.

e second collection includes an essay by Andrew 

Preston, who argues that the last half of the 1960s represented a critical reshaping of the Cold War, becoming a “more complex, more diverse, and much more 

of a global phenomenon” (p. 111). Geoeconomic 

trends were overshadowing the geopolitical trends 

that characterized the rst period. e subsystemic 

horizontal structures were becoming more dominant 

over the superpower vertical relations with aligned 

states. Driven by larger and more complex socioeconomic forces, political economy replaced geopolitics. 

Guy Laron in his essay notes that Sino-Soviet tensions, overlaid by internal tensions in the Arab world 

between radical and conservative leaders, characterized the second period. His examination of the inuence of both East Germany and West Germany on 

the Arab-Israeli conict indicates how the regional 

subsystemic Cold Wars created interconnections 

between the Middle East, Europe, and Asia as these 

smaller states manipulated centers of political power 

to their interest and advantage. 

William R. Keyla’s essay examines the third period, the return of the second Cold War in Europe. 

Keyla argues that this new tension was fueled by escalating anxiety exhibited by both the United States 

and the Soviet Union. For the United States, policy 

makers were becoming more concerned about an 

increased Soviet threat and that the United States 

was in danger of falling behind the USSR. e Soviets perceived the United States as pursuing an aggressive policy aimed at waging successful nuclear 

war against the Soviet Union. is led the Soviets to 

identify clear indications and warning triggers that 

indicated an imminent attack. e ensuing prospect 

of a new arms race with the United States and the 

growing economic crisis within the Soviet Union 

created unseen tensions, leaving the USSR challenged on all sides as subsystemic Cold Wars in Asia 

and the Middle East pressured the Soviet system. 

Another essay by Lüthi points to strategic shis in 

Asia and the interaction between foreign policies of 
Summer 2016 113

the numerous subsystemic actors that inuenced the 

United States, the People’s Republic of China (PRC), 

and the USSR. e combination of the withdrawal 

from the costly war in Vietnam and the end of Communist-led liberation movements in Africa and Asia 

led to a rapprochement and eventual establishment 

of diplomatic relations between the United States 

and the PRC, which Lüthi insightfully notes, marked 

the end of the subsystemic Cold War in Asia. He 

concludes that the United States, the USSR, and 

the PRC all overestimated the geostrategic eects 

of their adversaries’ policies and actions during this 

period, causing all three to make a number of poor 

decisions that had long-term eects on the direction 

of the Cold War. 

e nal period of the Cold War, as J. Simon 

Rofe indicates, was marked by the dissolving links 

between the systemic and subsystemic levels. Complex relationships, unknown and unappreciated at 

the time, helped to bring about an unexpectedly 

peaceful end to the Cold War. Rofe observes that 

“the Cold War, for all its costs and consequences, is 

over—although it remains a reliable source of reference” (p. 271). Sergey Radchenko’s essay follows 

Gorbachev’s dilemma of attempting to reform the 

Soviet system without dismantling it altogether. He 

traces Gorbachev’s focus on European integration 

as the solution without taking Asia into account 

as well. His success with European leaders was not 

replicated in Asia. Gorbachev’s lack of a comprehensive strategic outlook doomed the USSR. Constantine Pleshakov continues this theme, stressing 

in his essay that Gorbachev was not the conscious 

agent of change that ended the Cold War; rather, he 

was simply an observer of what was emerging as a 

revolutionary crisis in Eastern Europe that he had 

no power to control. e subsystemic actors initiated a revolution from below, a process that had 

long been brewing and from the perspective of history, appeared to be inevitable. Pleshakov concludes 

his essay with a rueful observation that the states 

of Eastern Europe—during the post-Cold War period—instead of achieving autonomy and independence, have simply changed one hegemon (USSR) 

for another (NATO) and remained a borderland 

subject to the interests of stronger powers.

Lüthi deserves credit for this collection of carefully craed essays. Each one provides an intriguing 

glimpse into the geopolitical trends and linkage of 

global events to provide the reader a cohesive understanding of the Cold War and its inuence on today’s 

strategic environment. Indeed, the notes at the end 

of each essay represent a treasure trove of source material that scholars from many dierent disciplines 

will benet from. 

ere are only two critiques that must be made. 

e rst is a lack of a comprehensive bibliography. 

e eorts of these scholars deserve a collective list 

of the most important sources to assist other scholars following their lead. e second is the lack of attention to the leaders who shaped the Cold War just 

as much as other forces did at the systemic and subsystemic levels. Outside of Gorbachev, there are no 

essays that focus on those leaders. e Cold War is 

marked by some of the most powerful and inuential men in history: Mao, Stalin, Eisenhower, and De 

Gaulle. Unfortunately, they appear as only minimal 

gures. Other signicant individuals—Tito, Deng, 

Nasser, Kennedy, Khrushchev, and Nixon—who all 

played powerful and pivotal roles receive little mention. e Cold War certainly proves that there is 

indeed a place for great men in history; a most welcome addition to this collection would be an essay 

on the roles great leaders played in shaping the Cold 

War. ese two points aside, this is an exceptional 

collection and worth the investment in time for students of strategy, policy, and history. It opens many 

avenues for future study and inquiry, and provides 

critical insights for explaining the current state of affairs in the world. s1775s
BOOK REVIEW

Cold War on the Airwaves:

e Radio Propaganda War

against East Germany

Reviewed by Thomas I. Faith

Historian, U.S. Department of State

Washington, DC

Cold War on the Airwaves: e Radio Propaganda 

War against East Germany. By Nicholas J. Schlosser. 

(Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 2015. Pp. 256. 

$50.00 cloth; $30.00 e-book.)

Cold War on the Airwaves: e Radio Propaganda War against East Germany is a 

well-craed and insightful history of Radio in the American Sector (RIAS), the 

inuential West Berlin broadcasting station. Author 

Nicholas J. Schlosser not only explores RIAS’s relations with East German radio stations and Radio 

Free Berlin but also “examines RIAS’s inuence on 

East German political culture and analyzes how the 

station inuenced the political worldviews and language of the German Democratic Republic’s government as well as its citizens” (p. 2). Cold War on the 

Airwaves weaves together several historical themes, 

but it is best understood in the context of propaganda and public diplomacy during the early Cold War. 

Schlosser writes that RIAS was created in Berlin 

soon aer the end of World War II and the beginning of the occupation of Germany. RIAS was instigated in spite of the existence of Radio Berlin, the 

Soviet broadcasting service, which operated in that 

sector of partitioned Berlin. U.S. ocials were concerned with the ideological tone of Soviet broadcasts 

and feared that programming agreeable to both sides 

would be impossible. us, in 1946, before the adoption of the deutsche mark or the formal division of 

Germany, the United States and the Soviet Union 

parted ways concerning broadcasting in the soonto-be partitioned Germany.

Schlosser argues that critical decisions about the 

ideological content of 

RIAS broadcasts were 

made at the station’s 

inception. Instead of 

adopting an overt antiCommunist bias, the 

RIAS producers made 

a conscious eort to 

report the news objectively. is broadcasting 

concept was created with 

the German listeners’ 

experiences of being so 

recently bombarded by 

Nazi-sponsored propaganda. As one contemporary 

German said, “We hope that the American Military 

Government will not try to educate the Germans 

about the evils of Communism, inasmuch as Dr. 

[Joseph] Goebbels did a rst-class job in that respect” (p. 40). Events made it dicult to meet this 

high-minded ideal. With the Communist seizure of 

power in Czechoslovakia and the blockade of Berlin 

in 1948, RIAS broadcasters found objectivity impossible to maintain and fell under increasing pressure 

from the Oce of Military Government and the 

United States Information Service to adopt a more 

anti-Communist tone. “While its reporters adhered 

to the principles of accuracy,” Schlosser concludes, 

“news broadcasts were rarely unbiased or neutral. 

RIAS’s reporters frankly admitted their opposition 

to Communism and believed that it was their moral 

and ethical responsibility to focus their reporting on 

the injustices committed by the German Democratic 

Republic government and to promote German reunication” (p. 5).

RIAS focused on listener preferences and public 

engagement far more so than their East German 

114
Summer 2016 115

counterpart did. While the station provided extensive coverage of world events that Radio Berlin 

simply could not match, RIAS also reported on local political and economic news in East Germany. 

For example, “the fate of German soldiers captured 

on the Eastern Front was of paramount concern for 

Germans aer the war,” Schlosser writes, and it was 

a dicult story for East German radio to cover as 

extensively or as candidly as RIAS (p. 39). e majority of RIAS station sta and on-air personalities 

were German, and they enjoyed constant contact 

with East Germans from their station headquarters 

in Berlin in the years before 1961. e RIAS building 

had a visitor’s room where East Germans were interviewed by the sta, and the station received a steady 

stream of correspondence from listeners in the Soviet zone. e ironic result of these activities was that 

East Germans may have considered the American 

sponsored RIAS a more reliable source of local news 

than Radio Berlin.

Schlosser’s narrative centers on RIAS’s role in the 

June 1953 East German uprising, and he delivers a 

measured and well-developed account of the inuence of Western propaganda on the events as they 

unfolded. He argues that, while RIAS broadcasts did 

not incite the unrest, the narrative framework and 

language employed by broadcasters during the event 

“helped transform a general strike in East Berlin into 

a nationwide uprising” (p. 75). e station’s ability to 

exacerbate tensions in the East was recognized aer 

the uprising, and Communist leaders in the German Democratic Republic (GDR) claimed that RIAS 

“had in fact helped launch the uprising through the 

use of coded messages broadcast to agents lurking 

throughout the GDR” (p. 76). RIAS listeners in East 

Germany faced intimidation and reprisals, and the 

station became the target of a Stasi smear campaign. 

e GDR even constructed radio jamming towers in 

an attempt to block RIAS transmissions, and undertook clandestine operations against station personnel. e Berlin Crisis and the construction of the 

wall curtailed personal contacts between RIAS and 

its listeners, but the station continued broadcasting 

eectively until the end of the Cold War.

Cold War on the Airwaves scrupulously resists 

exaggerating the inuence or eectiveness of RIAS 

propaganda, concluding that “RIAS did not cause 

the collapse of the German Democratic Republic; 

nevertheless, it made a signicant contribution to 

disrupting the state’s very attempts to achieve stability and legitimacy” (p. 174). It concentrates on RIAS’s 

relationship with other radio stations and the listening public, and how the station used its broadcasts to 

shape ideas, but Schlosser’s book may whet reader’s 

appetites for information about the history of the 

RIAS organization without sating it. Nonetheless, 

Cold War on the Airwaves is an important book that 

imparts lessons that government institutions should 

heed, particularly in the age of online social media. 

s1775s
BOOK REVIEW

Power and Restraint:

e Rise of the United States, 1898–1941 

Reviewed by Mark R. Folse

Power and Restraint: e Rise of the United States, 

1898–1941. By Jerey W. Meiser. (Washington, DC: 

Georgetown University Press, 2015. Pp. 344. $54.95 

cloth; $34.95 paperback and e-book.)

I

n Power and Restraint, Jerey W. Meiser argues 

that from 1898 to 1941 the United States, a rising power and potential international hegemon, did not expand the way other rising powers like Germany, England, and Japan did at their 

zeniths. Using a domestic structural theory of restraint, Meiser demonstrates that the U.S. domestic 

political institutions and culture kept the nation’s expansionist urges in check with only few exceptions. 

Federal checks and balances, public opinion, and a 

culture rife with anti-imperialist notions created a 

spectrum of restraint that Meiser uses to dene U.S. 

overseas intervention policies and outcomes. He argues further that the character of domestic culture 

and political institutions are key determinants of the 

limits of a rising power’s expansion. 

e heart of Meiser’s work covers three phases of 

U.S. expansion over seven chapters, but he begins 

with a chapter on theory and denitions. He denes 

expansion as “an increase in inuence” of which military and territorial expansions are his main concerns 

(p. xix). Meiser denes the United States from 1898 

to 1941 as a rising power, a nation state that is growing in power among its peers, and a potential hegemon, which has “a signicant eect on the hierarchy 

of power in the international system” (p. 

xviii). He labels American interventions as 

delayed expansion, 

limited expansion, or 

backlash all of which 

describe the reasons 

why and how the domestic structure of 

U.S. restrained political-military expansion. Ultimately, 

he contends that the 

United States did not 

become a revisionist 

state (states that seek to dominate the international 

system) the way many political scientists expect most 

rising powers to become because of its domestic political institutions and strategic culture. 

Chapters 2–4 cover the period of 1898–1912 when 

the United States annexed Hawaii, Puerto Rico, 

Guam, and the Philippines and intervened in Nicaragua and Cuba twice. Oen espoused by historians 

and political scientists as the pinnacle of American 

imperial expansion, these years saw the power of domestic institutions restrain U.S. strategy signicantly 

according to Meiser. He asserts that “anti-imperialist 

norms and checks and balances played the most important roles in causing restraint,” during this period 

(p. xvii). ese norms had to do with Congress and 

American culture. Regarding the Teller Amendment 

that prohibited the annexation of Cuba, for example, 

Meiser contends that “a coalition of racists, bigots, 

humanitarians, and US sugar producers combined 

to oppose annexation of Cuba” (p. 31). By the time 

the Republicans, who tended to favor expansion dur116

Mark R. Folse is a PhD candidate at the University 

of Alabama in Tuscaloosa. He is writing his dissertation on the U.S. Marine Corps and American culture during the World War I era.
Summer 2016 117

ing this period, lost the White House to Woodrow 

Wilson and the Democrats, who tended to loathe 

imperialism, the imperialist drive in America had 

subsided signicantly.

President Wilson’s term (1913–21) marked a second wave of expansionism. Congressional opposition 

was weak during this time but other such factors as 

public opinion, balance of powers, and Wilson’s own 

personal principles restrained U.S. strategy. Meiser 

asserts that Wilson’s intervention in Mexico (1914), 

Haiti (1915), and the Dominican Republic (1916) and 

continued military presence in Nicaragua constituted 

the “most expansionist policies since 1898” (p. 146). 

Specically, Meiser identies Haiti and the Dominican Republic as blatant expansionist interventions 

that went largely unrestrained because of perceived 

threats from German inuence in the Caribbean. 

Meiser sees 1921–33 as a transition period between the Wilsonian era of limited expansion for 

security to the Franklin D. Roosevelt administration 

that completely disavowed interference in foreign affairs. Public opinion turned against costly and long 

interventions in Nicaragua and Hispaniola, especially aer news of abuse of Haitians and Dominicans leaked to the press during the 1920s. Roosevelt’s 

“Good Neighbor Policy” that dominated his rst two 

terms in the White House (1933–41) continued the 

nation’s collective disinterest in foreign interventions. Bere of any real threat to American interests 

and distracted by the Great Depression, Meiser argues simply that “military intervention ceases to be 

an option in American foreign policy aer 1933” (p. 

236). Policy makers believed that by respecting the 

independence of the United States’ neighbors then 

they, in turn, would respect U.S. interests. is approach did not mean that the United States lacked 

opportunities to intervene in foreign countries’ affairs, but in each case the Roosevelt administration, 

with strong support from Congress and the public, 

chose nonintervention. 

Meiser succeeds in identifying a useful and 

thought-provoking theory that explains American 

strategic restraint. But the book is largely derivative 

of secondary sources and makes very little use of primary evidence that would support his claims, especially regarding public opinion and culture. is book 

deserves more analysis than it is aorded here; however, academics and students of U.S. foreign policy 

and history are encouraged to make use of Meiser’s 

work. s1775s
BOOK REVIEW

Mission Revolution:

e U.S. Military and Stability Operations

Reviewed by Lieutenant Colonel Brent C. Bankus, USA 

(Ret)

Mission Revolution: e U.S. Military and Stability 

Operations. By Jennifer Morrison Taw. (New York: 

Columbia University Press, 2015. Pp. 280. $50.00 

cloth; $26.00 paperback; $25.99 e-book.)

I

n her book, Mission Revolution: e U.S. Military and Stability Operations, Jennifer Morrison Taw provides a well-researched and 

well-written piece describing the evolution of 

U.S. military involvement in stability operations. She 

shows why the Department of Defense Directive 

(DODD) 3000.05, released in November 2005, was 

a game changer that put stability operations on par 

with traditional operations. She demonstrates that 

while the United States had been performing stability operations for some time before this, the choice 

reected by the directive to raise them to the same 

level of priority as oense and defense was, as the 

title suggests, a mission revolution for the U.S. military, especially the U.S. Army. 

Taw begins her book with a helpful review of the 

literature on U.S. stability operations. is in-depth 

examination of U.S. stability operations spans the 

Seven Years’ War to today’s operations in Iraq and 

Afghanistan. It demonstrates the critical importance 

of stability operations to larger U.S. military history. 

While proving that these operations matter, the 

author reveals how they are perceived by military and 

civilian decision makers. How military and civilian 

strategists consider stability operations has changed 

as much as the operations themselves. Taw presses 

the question of what the second- and third-level effects will be of the adoption of stability operations as 

a core military responsibility under DODD 3000.05. 

e progress and outcome of the Vietnam War is 

of critical importance 

to understanding stability operations today. 

Before the war, one 

of the main schools 

of thought held that 

military units can and 

do execute all types 

of stability operations 

successfully. During 

the war itself, stability 

operations changed as 

the U.S. State Department and U.S. Agency 

for International Development (USAID) 

launched an enormous civilian mission in Vietnam. 

Over the course of these eorts, notable inroads were 

made to support stability operations. U.S. military 

and civilian leadership coordinated stability operation eorts successfully under the Civil Operations 

and Revolutionary Development Support (CORDS). 

CORDS was the rst of its kind. It widened access to 

clean water, improved sanitation, and provided a degree of normalcy to South Vietnam’s 44 provinces. As 

the population’s perception of improved security began to be realized, productivity improved. So much 

so that, by 1971, South Vietnam began to export part 

of its rice crop, which had not been done before. 

CORDS worked because of two factors. First, the 

United States and its allies in Vietnam provided a 

baseline of security. Army General Creighton W. 

Abrams Jr., commander of all forces in Vietnam 

(1968–72), understood that emphasis needed to be 

placed on population security. He along with Robert 

W. Komer (head of CORDS) instituted policies and 

programs to do just that. Second, civilian organizations like USAID were staed at appropriate levels to 

118
Summer 2016 119

make stability operations successful. For example, by 

1968, there were 2,300 USAID personnel in Vietnam, 

the single largest deployment of USAID sta in history. is aspect of the success of the CORDS program 

supports the author’s contention that if the civilian 

workforce is manned at proper levels then the overall 

stability operation has a better chance of success. 

Despite the success of the CORDS program, the 

larger trauma of the Vietnam War changed the trajectory of how leaders in the Army and other Services conducted stability operations. From the 1970s to 

the 1990s, leaders in the Army and elsewhere vowed 

to never get involved in another counterinsurgency. 

Training focused on conventional operations. At the 

same time the leadership set this trajectory, stability 

operations sprang up during the Iran hostage crisis, 

Beirut, and the invasion in Grenada and Panama, to 

name just a few. In all cases, the U.S. military relied 

on conventionally trained troops, along with Special 

Forces to take on these missions.

e tempo of stability operations skyrocketed 

with the fall of the Soviet Union in 1989 and the outcome of Operation Desert Storm. With the Cold War 

confrontation over, the United States lacked a clearcut adversary. e smashing success of U.S. and allied forces in Operation Desert Storm testied to the 

mighty power of U.S. military forces. In this context, stability operations of all sorts emerged across 

the globe. e international community looked to 

America, the world’s sole superpower, to lead eorts 

to address these many and varied contingencies. 

Taw also highlights the post-Cold War era as a moment of innovation for the Army. In 2003, the Army 

reorganized its units, guided by the capstone doctrine 

Operations, FM 3-0 (2001). e new units moved 

away from divisional teams toward brigade combat 

teams. ese brigades (heavy infantry and Stryker armored vehicle units) could be augmented with special 

troops, additional signal, armor, and engineer components. is enabled the Army to better meet the 

particular challenges of dierent stability operations. 

Planners aimed to augment the eectiveness of 

these brigades with Provisional Reconstruction 

Teams (PRTs). e PRTs, like its CORDS predecessor, would provide a degree of normalcy and essential services to provinces in Afghanistan and Iraq 

torn apart by war. PRTs combined military and civilian personnel with special skill sets. But there were 

not enough of them. Here Taw underscores her claim 

that there has never been enough State Department 

or USAID employees to properly do the job. Lack of 

civilians able to be deployed to contingencies is an 

age-old story. For example, on the eve of the U.S. entry into World War II, the same shortage of civilians 

for deployment to all theaters of war existed. e 

military answered the call by instituting schools of 

military government at several universities, including the University of Virginia and 10 other locations 

for the Army, and Princeton and Columbia Universities for the U.S. Navy.

At the same time that these missions are challenged by civilian stang shortages, they are also 

plagued by debates about whether or not stability 

operations are an appropriate mission for U.S. military forces. Traditionalists believe that the military 

has no part to play in these types of missions. Instead 

the military should “stay in its own lane” and focus 

on large-scale conict. Progressives acknowledge 

that the security landscape has changed enough that 

the U.S. military is obligated to not only ght and 

win the nation’s wars, but be able to answer the call 

on stability operations. 

Overall, Taw’s book is helpful in understanding 

questions related to stability operations. She explains 

what they are, the history of U.S. involvement, and 

the ways that shiing world landscapes have altered 

how the U.S. military participates in them. Further, 

she provides a comprehensive commentary on the 

way in which stability operations have been looked 

at and acted upon by leaders in the military community and the nation’s political leadership. A job well 

done. s1775s
Annihilation Beach:

A Story about the Horric Marine Battle

for Tarawa, Day One

BOOK REVIEW

Reviewed by Chris Blaker

Annihilation Beach: A Story about the Horric Marine Battle for Tarawa, Day One. By James F. Dwyer. 

(CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform, 

2014. Pp. 222. $17.99 paperback.)

The November 1943 Marine landing at 

Tarawa introduced a new era of warfare 

in the Pacic theater of World War II. Described by Colonel Joseph H. Alexander, 

USMC (Ret), in Across the Reef: e Marine Assault 

of Tarawa (1993) as “a tactical watershed,” Tarawa offered the “rst, large scale test of American amphibious doctrine against a strongly fortied beachhead” 

(p. 1). For the Marines and sailors of the 2d Marine 

Division, it was also a particularly bloody aair.

James F. Dwyer’s Annihilation Beach: A Story 

About the Horric Marine Battle for Tarawa, Day 

One oers a historical ction account of the Battle 

of Tarawa, the rst book of a series of three on the 

subject. e author acknowledges that his youthful 

fascination with Tarawa inspired him to write an account of the battle through the eyes of the men who 

fought there. Narrating his story through the experiences of ctional characters and real-life Marines—

such as division operations ocer, Colonel David 

M. Shoup; former Raider commander, Lieutenant 

Colonel Evans F. Carlson; and scout sniper platoon 

leader, First Lieutenant William D. Hawkins—Dwyer presents the battle through varied perspectives. 

120

Chris Blaker interned with the U.S. Marine Corps 

History Division, Quantico, VA, during the summer of 2015 and is currently pursuing a master’s 

degree in American history at Oakland University 

in Rochester, MI, and writing a thesis on Marine 

Corps organization during the Vietnam War.

e author references 

a number of ocial 

military histories and 

combat memoirs from 

Tarawa, which allows 

him to place his ctional narrative atop 

a carefully researched 

battle study. Dwyer’s 

light, conversational 

voice tailors his work 

toward a popular audience, and his expert 

use of an omniscient 

point of view allows 

for seamless transitions between individual Marines 

in battle.

Annihilation Beach features ctional Marines of 

1st Platoon, Echo Company, 2d Battalion, 2d Regiment, 2d Marine Division. e experiences of platoon leader, First Lieutenant Robert D. Hackett, 

drive the story, though chapters focusing on his 

runner, Private First Class Eugene Petraglia, and 

platoon corpsman, Navy Pharmacist’s Mate Second 

Class Tom Fumai, are particularly engaging. Serving alongside these men in the Pacic are a dozen 

other Marines, all of them identied and provided 

with brief background information, though many 

are killed in combat. Dwyer’s inclusion of such a 

large cast of characters in the opening pages of his 

book risks overwhelming the reader, but the author 

makes a careful eort to demonstrate each Marine’s 

signicance to the story. 

An early ashback to the platoon’s experiences on 

the Solomon Islands of Tulagi and Guadalcanal is essential to the development of these characters. On 

Guadalcanal, Lieutenant Hackett and his Marines are 

tested in combat for the rst time, and though the 
Summer 2016 121

posite platoon of Marines from dierent companies 

to push forward to his objective. Private First Class 

Petraglia and Pharmacist’s Mate Second Class Fumai 

meet Colonel Shoup on the beach, where Shoup is 

desperately trying to regain the tactical integrity of 

his units ashore. ese scenes of battle rely almost 

entirely on secondary sources, though Dwyer takes 

certain liberties to include historical accounts of 

both Marines and Japanese soldiers, tting them together with the experiences of his own characters. 

Ultimately, Dwyer accomplishes his goal of oering a ctional account of Tarawa while staying true to 

the battle’s history. is fast-paced, fervent account of 

the rst day of battle demonstrates clearly how much 

the men endured and contributes further to the incredible story of how the Marines overcame overwhelming odds and mounting casualties to achieve 

victory over the Japanese on Tarawa. s1775s

platoon sustains casualties as a result of a Japanese 

ambush, Hackett’s men are given much-needed experience that will later assist them on Tarawa. ough 

roughly a quarter of the book’s length is dedicated 

to Guadalcanal, this digression from the title subject 

pays o; for when the Marines nally land at Tarawa, 

Dwyer is able to focus his narrative on the landing 

itself rather than the development of his characters. 

Additionally, readers will enjoy following the day’s 

events through the eyes of characters they by now 

know quite well.

Dwyer ardently conveys the confusion, helplessness, and sheer terror of the Tarawa landings, where 

the Marines of the 2d Marine Division are separated 

from their units and exposed to tremendous casualties on the beach. Lieutenant Hackett realizes almost 

immediately aer landing that only half his platoon 

is still with him, and he is forced to organize a com-
e Battle of Leyte Gulf:

e Last Fleet Action

BOOK REVIEW

Reviewed by G. K. Cunningham, PhD

e Battle of Leyte Gulf: e Last Fleet Action. By H. 

P. Willmott. (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 

2005. Pp. 424. $30.00 paperback; $29.99 e-book.) 

There may have been great naval engagements before the Battle of Leyte Gulf in 

October 1944, but there may have been 

none more signicant since. H. P. Willmott’s masterful rendering of this battle in, e Battle of 

Leyte Gulf: e Last Fleet Action, accurately captures 

the conclusive nature of this four-day engagement. 

His book was selected for the Society for Military 

History’s Distinguished Book Award in 2006, a year 

aer its initial publication; the award is an appropriate testament to Willmott’s thorough research, insightful interpretation, and accessible presentation.

e Battle of Leyte Gulf was more of a naval campaign than a single battle, taking place over a period 

of four days as a series of connected actions. Willmott strongly suggests that, by the time of this naval 

campaign, control of the western Pacic Ocean had 

largely been decided, making this massive undertaking both unusual in its inception and denitive in 

its outcomes. Following this eet action, Allied naval forces eectively destroyed the Japanese Imperial 

Navy, and thus it became unable to contest the evertightening encirclement of the Japanese home islands. 

e nality of this operation sets it apart as one of 

the greatest naval engagements in history, 

well worth the extensive detailed treatment 

that Willmott provides. 

e author eectively 

addresses the operation 

from both the Japanese 

and United States perspectives, providing a 

balanced, full narrative 

of strategies, deployments, and operational 

developments for both 

sides. Willmott’s inclusion of Japanese sources greatly claries and enhances 

the existing descriptions of this naval action oered in 

Western histories craed and published before 2005. 

Accordingly, this book makes a major contribution to 

understanding the antecedents to the campaign, the 

unfolding of the naval battles themselves, and the interpretation of subsequent developments in the Pacic 

theater of World War II. 

Willmott makes clear from the onset that U.S. 

control of the Pacic Ocean had been determined 

before the Battle of Leyte Gulf was ever contemplated and planned. Chapter by chapter, he painstakingly explains the cultural mindset, strategic thinking, 

and operational planning that animated Japanese actions leading up to the sea campaign itself. Although 

caught somewhat o guard by earlier allied advances 

in eastern Indonesia, Palau, and the Mariana Islands, 

Japanese intelligence had, as early as 10 August 1944, 

correctly determined that the major U.S. oensive of 

this phase of the Pacic war would be made in the 

Philippines. Incursions by Navy Admiral William 

F. Halsey’s ird Fleet carriers amply demonstrated 

Dr. G. K. Cunningham is the associate provost at 

the U.S. Army War College in Carlisle Barracks, PA. 

He teaches courses in campaign analysis and has 

authored works on senior leader intuition, systems 

thinking, and cultural approaches to military theory. His current scholarship examines cultural influences on Japanese naval strategy in World War II.

122
Summer 2016 123

the weaknesses of land-based air forces in the Philippines to counter any Leyte landings. Subsequently, 

Japanese losses in aircra during these raids made 

it imperative that Japanese planning would require 

skillful integration of operations for the remaining 

Japanese naval, land, and air forces, if victory was to 

be obtained. Willmott points out, however, that in 

the latter part of 1944, no amount of cross-domain 

integration could compensate for the essential lack 

of component forces—land, sea, and air—that the 

Japanese had available to them at that time. Regarding the Japanese strategic assessment, he asserts, 

“Many senior planners and eet ocers realized that 

any attempt to fall upon American amphibious, support, and transport formations was likely to end in 

the annihilation of the Japanese forces thus committed to the oensive” (p. 49). 

If such odds were expected and if the outcomes 

were so risk prone as to mean the end of the Japanese Imperial Navy, why did the Japanese persist in 

the Sho Ichi Go plan (their designation for Operation 

Victory One, the plan for the defense of the Philippine Islands)? In an attempt to explain this seemingly inexplicable conundrum, Willmott devotes the 

rst one-third of his book fully to the background, 

planning considerations, and preliminary actions 

leading up to the naval operations of 24 October 

1944. He points to three major delusions pervasive 

in Japanese planning, assumptions that went largely 

unchallenged and that originated in uniquely Japanese cultural patterns of thought. e rst was simple unwillingness to properly account for American 

losses, resulting in false battle damage reports on an 

enormous scale: “Japanese claims were, by the least 

exacting of standards, fantastical” (p. 52). e second was overreliance on surprise, a belief that complexity and dispersion would so confuse American 

naval leaders that they would be unable to react 

coherently. Arguably, such reliance resulted in a 

complicated Japanese order of battle and disunity of 

assigned missions that virtually eliminated any hope 

of actual mutual support or reinforcement among 

the widely scattered Japanese forces. e third was 

a fundamental belief in Bushido as an inspirational 

force. Certainly, even to the Japanese, things looked 

bad. But a determined eort to die in a manner be-

tting Japanese warriors might somehow result in a 

miracle.

e remainder of Willmott’s book is a comprehensive chronicle of the events, decisions, actions, 

and counteractions integral to the Battle of Leyte 

Gulf as a campaign of naval actions. Here Willmott 

excels, mixing a compelling narrative style with precision in applying the right amount of detail when 

contrasting the actions of Japanese Admirals Kurita, Nishimura, and Ozawa to those of U.S. Admirals Halsey, omas C. Kinkaid, and Clion A. F. 

Sprague. He does not encumber the story with excessive details, but uses them to illuminate and clarify the perceptions, decisions, and events that took 

place in the seas surrounding the Philippine Islands, 

23–26 October 1944. at said, Willmott has done 

masterful scholarship; e Battle of Leyte Gulf provides a wealth of maps, charts, appendixes, notes, 

and sources that will prove a veritable gold mine of 

data for subsequent researchers (pp. 257–381). His 

concluding chapter, “To Pause and Consider: Blame, 

Responsibility, and the Verdict of History,” is so penetrating and comprehensive that it can be read with 

value in isolation from the rest of the book.

H. P. Willmott’s exposition of the Battle of Leyte 

Gulf has implications and residual worth well beyond mid-twentieth-century military history. is 

incisive work illustrates how nations go to war and 

how predispositions to think and act in certain ways 

can inuence, if not determine, outcomes of battles 

that reverberate for decades, perhaps even centuries, thereaer. e Battle of Leyte Gulf is not a book 

merely for historians; it is a book for any thoughtful 

person who wants to seriously consider the signi-

cance of history’s dening events and better understand their portents for the present. s1775s
Tanks in Hell:

A Marine Corps Tank Company on Tarawa

BOOK REVIEW

Reviewed by Paul W. Westermeyer

Historian, History Division

Marine Corps University

Tanks in Hell: A Marine Corps Tank Company on 

Tarawa. By Oscar E. Gilbert and Romain V. Cansiere. (Philadelphia, PA: Casemate Publisher, 2015. 

Pp. 264. $34.95 cloth.)

Operation Galvanic, the American amphibious assault on the Gilbert Islands, 

was the rst major oensive the United 

States conducted in the central Pacic 

during World War II. e most signicant portion of 

Galvanic was the landing at Tarawa, on Betio Island, 

which was the rst test of the Marine Corps’ interwar 

contention that it could successfully conduct a major 

amphibious assault against a heavily fortied beach. 

In the end, the Marines successfully stormed Tarawa despite the diculties of crossing the coral reef, 

which surrounded the atoll, and the erce, carefullyprepared Japanese defense. During three days (20–23 

November 1943) of ferocious ghting, the Marines 

suered heavy casualties, and Japanese Imperial Special Naval Landing Force troops defending the island 

were wiped out; of the 4,500 plus defenders, fewer 

than 200 were captured, the rest died on the island.

e Battle of Tarawa has been extensively studied, 

with many scholarly works covering the battle. Oscar Gilbert and Romain Cansiere have approached 

this topic by burrowing down to the company level, 

examining in minute 

detail the activities of 

C Company, I Corps 

Tank Battalion (Medium), its individual 

M4A2 Sherman tanks, 

and the Marines who 

operated them. Arguing that Marine tank 

operations have been 

understudied generally 

and that the tank contribution on Tarawa 

specically has been 

relatively ignored, the 

authors present a holistic unit history.

Oscar Gilbert has written a series of books describing Marine tanks in action, which includes Marine Corps Tank Battles in the Pacic, Marine Corps 

Tank Battles in Korea, Marine Corps Tank Battles in 

Vietnam, and Marine Corps Tank Battles in the Middle East. Romain Cansiere is an amateur historian 

whose enthusiasm and contact with Oscar Gilbert 

was the spark that got this book started. 

In keeping with the holistic approach to the book, 

Gilbert and Cansiere begin with chapters on amphibious doctrine and how Marine Corps tank companies were intended to t into it, discussing the 

early training and formation of the company. en 

they include detailed chapters on the characteristics of the company’s Sherman tanks as well as their 

personal equipment and uniforms. A chapter on the 

Tarawa defenses and background for the assault sets 

up the other chapters, detailing each day, oen hour 

by hour, that the tankers would spend in battle on 

Tarawa. 

C Company, I Corps Tank Battalion (Medium), 

came ashore on Tarawa with 14 Sherman tanks; the 

Paul W. Westermeyer, is the author of U.S. Marines 

in the Gulf War, 1990–1991: Liberating Kuwait 

(2014) and U.S. Marines in Battle: Al-Khafji, 28 January–1 February 1991 (2008). He is the editor of 

Desert Voices: An Oral History Anthology of Marines in the Gulf War, 1990–1991 and the Marines 

in the Vietnam War Commemorative Series.

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Summer 2016 125

rest of the Marine tanks on Tarawa were M3 Stuarts, 

light tanks whose smaller 37mm main gun proved 

ineective at dealing with enemy pillboxes and bunkers. e tanks that came ashore crossed the reef and 

the broad, shallow lagoon, which proved the rst 

challenge for the tankers. 

Gilbert and Cansiere depict this ght, step by 

bloody step, specifying the positions of each tank 

and corroborating oral histories with ocial records 

and photographic evidence. e authors extensively 

footnote the book, and provide an essay in the nal 

appendices, explaining the methodology they used 

to recreate the conict. Four additional appendices 

provide additional exhaustive detail on C Company, 

I Corps Tank Battalion (Medium), and its veterans. 

e book is copiously illustrated with pictures, maps, 

and diagrams that make it very easy to follow the action and picture the sometimes-esoteric details of 

tank operations. e authors have established a close 

personal relationship with the surviving veterans of 

the company, including Edward Bale, the commanding ocer. ey provided numerous oral history accounts of the battle.

is exhaustive look at a single company in a single battle is lled with insight into the day-to-day life 

of Marines, specically tanker Marines, in the Pacic war, but does not make a compelling case that 

the history of Marine armor has been sidelined or 

unfairly ignored in the larger histories of the Pacic 

war. It is a very enjoyable read, the style is plain but 

energetic, and the battle scenes are very clear. As a 

battle study, the work is a great success, providing a 

detailed account of the company’s successes and failures on Tarawa. As a unit history, the work provides 

an excellent mix of personal anecdote and organizational data, but the latter portions may scare o more 

casual readers. e book provides a personal, beachlevel view of the Marine island campaign that highlights the sacrices made by Marines of all stripes 

while winning the war in the Pacic. s1775s
Uphill Battle:

Reections on Viet Nam Counterinsurgency

BOOK REVIEW

Reviewed by Marilyn B. Young

Historian, New York University Department of History

Uphill Battle: Reections on Viet Nam Counterinsurgency. By Frank Scotton. (Lubbock: Texas Tech 

University Press, 2014. Pp. 464. $85.00 cloth; $39.95 

paperback.)

F

rank Scotton arrived in South Vietnam in 

1962, a 20-something ocer in the United 

States Information Agency (USIA), excited 

about his new job, already half in love with 

the country in the abstract way Americans fall in 

love with foreign countries, and ready to do his best 

to prevent the Republic of Vietnam from losing its 

war with the South Vietnamese National Liberation Front (SVNLF). Scotton’s memoir is unusual in 

several ways, including what some might consider a 

minor matter: naming. He insists on calling things 

by their proper, or nonvernacular, names. us, the 

group most journalists and many historians refer to 

as the Viet Cong (Vietnamese Communist) he uses 

only in connection with Americans or Saigon government ocials for whom Viet Cong or VC are the 

common designations. Instead, he writes about the 

SVNLF, and in so doing, he grants the insurgency an 

immediate legitimacy (p. 369, n. 4). He talks about 

Vietnamese Communists as belonging to a “national 

party” whereas most Americans in Vietnam “falsely 

thought of the communists as an intrusion by North 

Viet Nam into South Viet Nam” (p. 88). 

Uphill Battle is full of names—of people, provinces, hamlets and villages, and organizations and 

agencies—helpfully 

listed with short descriptions in the appendix. Scotton describes the people with 

whom he worked, his 

early mistakes and 

gradual sophistication, 

and the contradictory 

policies he and civilian 

ocers like him were 

expected to follow. An 

early solo eld trip to 

a strategic village le 

him “exhilarated: a trip 

with a driver, on our 

own and learning—not entirely comfortable with all 

that was learned, but learning” (p. 12). Among the 

things learned on that trip was that strategic hamlets did not keep the Communists out, being oen 

already dominated by them. Moreover, in hamlet after hamlet, people remembered the Viet Minh’s government as having been fair and just; however, Ngo 

Dinh Diem and his government “were seen by some 

people as illegitimate, not the Viet Cong” (p. 32). e 

author’s conclusion, which he maintains throughout 

the book, was that the real battle should have been 

fought at the hamlet level by highly trained mobile 

units of Vietnamese, advised by equally well-trained 

Americans, whose goal would be to bring legitimate 

government back to hamlets throughout the country 

and to help create a positive view of the government 

in Saigon. Neither Washington nor Saigon proved capable or even very interested in making this eort. It 

was easier to carpet bomb or, as John Vann described 

it to Scotton, to “rampage” through the provinces of 

the Mekong Delta with forces like the U.S. Army’s 9th 

Division, the “Bloody 9th” (p. 240).

Washington thought of counterinsurgency as “the 

Marilyn B. Young received her PhD from Harvard 

University. She teaches history at New York University and is the author or editor of books on United 

States-China relations, women in China, and the 

Vietnam War.

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Summer 2016 127

other war.” But there was only one war, Scotton insists, and it was fundamentally political in nature. 

Travelling in Hau Nghia Province in 1966, Scotton 

discovered that the Communists not only grasped 

this principle but consistently acted on it: “SVNLF 

public presence in the area was impressive, more 

extensive and visible than I had expected. We were 

witnessing political action energized from within 

hamlets and districts by communist cadre, rather 

than the typical and anemic GVN [Government of 

the Republic of Vietnam] directives from ministries and province downward” (p. 170). Instead, the 

Americans, sometimes accompanied by Army of the 

Republic of Vietnam troops, would hold “hamlet 

festivals” and “county fairs.” A hamlet would be cordoned o and IDs checked in hopes of trapping dozing SVNLF members. Oen an American military 

band “played upbeat, happy tunes in the background. 

e rural families were penned and unhappy, but an 

illusion of meaningful counterinsurgent activity was 

established.” Scotton found the entire thing “nauseating,” but he was almost alone among his colleagues 

in holding this view (p. 190).

Attempting to understand why this was the case, 

Scotton concludes that “our general thinking about 

insurgency is hobbled by imperial perspective. Our 

emphasis is on how to organize and apply measures, 

inducements, and tactics to treat symptoms” (p. 325). 

Yet he never rejected the legitimacy of the American 

eort to support a government that was “endeavoring 

to establish an independent identity.” In a sentence 

that can suggest an opposite conclusion, Scotton 

writes that the “Geneva Accords aside” there was 

“nothing inherently wrong in the attempt” (p. 326; 

emphasis in original). Given this forgiving approach 

to the U.S. eort, he should perhaps have been less 

surprised that “one day an American administration 

would adopt a preemptive strike policy and deploy 

an army abroad with even weaker rationale than that 

applied to Viet Nam” (p. 327). s1775s
Where Youth and Laughter Go:

With “e Cutting Edge” in Afghanistan

BOOK REVIEW

Reviewed by Colonel J. Matthew Lissner

Senior Army Reserve Research Advisor

United States Army War College

Where Youth and Laughter Go: With “e Cutting 

Edge” in Afghanistan. By LtCol Seth W. B. Folsom, 

USMC. (Annapolis: Naval Institute Press, 2015. Pp. 

392. $34.95 cloth.)

L

ieutenant Colonel Seth W. B. Folsom takes 

the reader on a rsthand ride deep into the 

grind, humor, and agony of the 3d Battalion, 7th Marines, as they ght through the 

dreaded Sangin District in the Helmand Province, 

Afghanistan. Folsom recounts the journey he and 

his “Cutting Edge” Marines make from training at 

Twentynine Palms, California, and the Mountain 

Warfare Training Center (MWTC) at Bridgeport, 

California, to the countless, frustrating, and oen 

blood-spilled patrols in Sangin.

Folsom provides three denitions at the very 

outset of the book for terms describing the area of 

responsibility (AOR) he and his Marines must operate in: a French, sang; a Persian, sunggeen; and 

an English, sanguine. e French and English de-

nitions focus on blood or bloody while the Persian 

denition belies something heavy, burdensome, or 

cumbersome—all precursors to the long road ahead 

for these young and dedicated Marines and sailors. 

is foreshadowing is further highlighted when 

Folsom’s regimental commander, Colonel Austin E. 

Renforth, xes reality by telling Folsom, “Maybe you 

should focus on trying to bring back as many as possible” instead of bringing all his Marines back in one 

piece (p. 27).

Folsom leads the reader into his world not only as 

the man responsible for the lives of his Marines, sailors, and local innocent civilians but as a ghting Marine himself. Displaying the discipline and 

resolve of an ocer 

and professional, Folsom constantly focuses 

his men on mission 

success, though he begins to doubt that mission even before the 

unit deploys. He describes with emotional 

gravity the burden he 

bears knowing his men 

will be maimed for life 

and some will indeed 

never make the trip back home alive.

e book describes the arduous training that 3d 

Battalion, 7th Marines, endures in preparation for 

the dicult mission of defeating Taliban ghters in 

a remote and hostile land. e unit trained in the 

cold, snow, and high altitude of the MWTC and re-

ned its skills in the hot, dry desert of Twentynine 

Palms. e mission rehearsal exercise, Enhanced 

Mojave Viper, gave Folsom and his leaders the opportunity to master the complex skills needed to 

perform their mission in Afghanistan. Additionally, 

the predeployment site survey (PDSS) team gained 

invaluable experience and insight not only about the 

enemy, local civilians, and the terrain that 3d Battalion, 7th Marines, would be contending with but 

about themselves as leaders, brothers-in-arms, and 

Marines. Folsom and his men quickly determined 

from their PDSS that nothing could truly prepare 

these warriors for the reality they were about to face.

Folsom recounts with vivid memory his experiences participating in shuras with local tribal leaders, Afghan National Security Forces (ANSF), and 

Afghan Uniformed Police (AUP), attempting to 

128
Summer 2016 129

instill responsibility and ownership in establishing 

peace and security within the regional communities. 

He further laments his frustration with the corruption and the lack of mutual trust within these Afghan 

circles of inuence. Intertwined with his frustration, 

Folsom depicts the universal human qualities that 

many Afghans have including love for their children 

and respect for friendship.

In detail that compares to a high-denition, combat video game, Folsom portrays numerous patrols 

he and his men embarked on. ese recaps make the 

reader feel as an actual part of the patrol, walking the 

ground and engaging with the enemy. Description 

of the scenarios and pace of action are engrossing 

and thrilling. From the scenery of remote villages 

and tiny towns to the implied sight and sound of 

gunre, rockets, missiles, and improvised explosive 

devices (IEDs), Folsom captures the action and emotions with stark reality. He also is adept at bringing 

the reader into the combat operations center (COC) 

where battleeld tracking occurs. He artfully captures the tension and stress that he and the other 

members of the COC endured trying to discern 

what was happening in the AOR and making lifeand-death decisions based on that analysis.

e 3d Battalion sustained seven killed in action 

(KIA) and innumerable severed limbs and emotional scars over the course of its deployment to Sangin. Folsom paints the horror and burden he faced 

with every casualty report throughout the book in 

ne detail. During a particular stretch of the unit’s 

deployment, 3d Battalion, 7th Marines, suered an 

average of “one Marine a week to serious injury or 

death” (p. 148). e burden he faced lie not only in 

the loss of his own men but in the death and disgurement of the many children caught up in the destruction of this conict. e stress of this constant 

burden took a continual toll on Folsom and his men 

as they struggled to believe in and continue their 

mission. However, quite possibly the best acclaim the 

book oers is the dedication the Marines displayed 

throughout the entire ordeal. On 8 November 2011, 

Sergeant Kyle Garcia inadvertently triggered an IED, 

leaving him partially conscious and amputated below his le knee. As the men of his squad rushed to 

render him aid, he reached for his own tourniquet 

and yelled for them to stop and sweep their way to 

him without rushing (p. 149). is type of leadership 

and dedication is what bound 3d Battalion, 7th Marines, and carried the Marines and sailors through 

the deployment.

Where Youth and Laughter Go is by no stretch of 

the imagination a laughing matter. Lieutenant Colonel Folsom, commander of 3d Battalion, 7th Marines, describes his unit, men, and mission with the 

knowledge of a seasoned coach and the respect of a 

loving father. He does this with the eye of a leader 

who takes charge and leads by example, walking numerous patrols with his men without special regard 

for himself or the dicult conditions 3d Battalion, 

7th Marines, must live and operate in. His descriptions and recounting of what transpired during the 

deployment is as real as real can get—a worthwhile 

read that brings you into the world of this battalion 

and keeps you there through the epilogue. It leaves 

the reader with the distinct impression, as it did for 

many Afghan children in the Sangin District, “Marines good” (p. 348). s1775s
Fred H. Allison, PhD

L

ieutenant General William 

H. Fitch, former deputy 

chief of sta for aviation 

(DCS-Aviation), at Headquarters Marine Corps, passed away 

on 19 January 2016. Lieutenant 

General Fitch was a consummate 

aviator and visionary leader. His 

ying career started in Vought F4U 

Corsairs and ended ying modern 

tactical jet aircra. He commanded 

Marine All-Weather Attack Squadrons (VMA[AW]) 225 and 533, 

Marine Aircra Group 14, the 32d 

Marine Amphibious Unit, the 9th 

Marine Amphibious Brigade, and 

the 1st Marine Aircra Wing. As 

DCS-Aviation (1982–84), and despite a daunting political climate, he advanced visionary programs that 

resulted in a modern and professional aviation combat force. 

William Fitch was born in 1929 in Chattanooga, 

Tennessee. He graduated from the University of 

Florida in June 1950. Aer completing naval aviation 

cadet training, he obtained his “wings of gold” and 

a Marine Corps second lieutenant commission on 

1 April 1952. His rst piloting assignment was with 

Marine Fighter Squadron 114, ying Vought F4U5N Corsairs aboard the carriers USS Wright (CVL 

49) and Tarawa (CV 40), during which time he made 

100 carrier landings. One landing was on one wheel 

when one of his Corsair’s main landing gears refused 

to lower. Adroitly making an arrested landing, he 

saved the aircra, albeit with unavoidable but minor 

damage. is was the only time he “bent” an aircra 

during a career in which he ew 6,000 hours in tactical aircra and made more than 300 carrier landings. 

He ew more than 120 dierent variants of aircra; 

he attested that the F4U Corsair was the one he was 

“most proud to have own operationally.” 

Lieutenant General William H. Fitch, USMC (Ret)

OBITUARY

Lieutenant General Fitch graduated from Naval Test Pilot School in 

1958 and served the next two years 

as a test pilot in Navy Experimental Squadron 5. During this tour, he 

developed a prototype multiple carriage bomb rack (MCBR). From the 

MCBR came the multiple and triple 

ejector racks that allowed tactical aircra to carry a larger bomb load and 

were widely used in the Vietnam War. 

Fitch obtained a patent in 1964 for 

the MCBR. 

He commanded VMA(AW)-533, a 

Grumman A-6A Intruder all-weather 

attack squadron in Vietnam in 1967. 

During this tour he ew 310 combat 

missions in both the A-6A and Douglas A-4 Skyhawk aircra; 127 of these were over 

North Vietnam. He earned the Silver Star for ying 

a night, single-ship, attack mission deep into North 

Vietnam to attack a Hanoi radio station. 

Lieutenant General Fitch served in a number of 

positions directly involved in aircra development. 

From 1963 to 1966, he was the aide/special assistant 

to the assistant secretary of the Navy for research 

and development; from 1968 to 1970, he served on 

the sta of the Air Weapons Systems Branch, DCSAviation, as weapons coordinator for A-4s, A-6s, and 

McDonnell Douglas AV-8 Harriers; from 1977 to 

1980, then Brigadier General Fitch served at Headquarters as the deputy chief of sta, Research, Development and Studies; and in 1982 he was selected for 

a third star and appointed DCS-Aviation. He retired 

in 1984. 

Lieutenant General Fitch was married to the former Margaret Marie Williams of Bartow, Florida. He 

attested that “the rst and most important thing in 

my life and my career was that I had the good fortune to marry Margaret Marie on August 7, 1955.”

s1775s

LtGen William H. Fitch

130
Summer 2016 131

Marine Corps History Division is actively searching 

for contributors to Marine Corps History (MCH). 

MCH is a scholarly, military history periodical published 

twice a year (summer and winter). Our focus is on all 

aspects of the Corps’ history, culture, and doctrine. Articles should be no less than 4,000 words and footnoted 

according to Chicago Manual of Style. For more information about submitting an article or writing a book review, 

please email history.division@usmc.mil with the subject 

line of “Marine Corps History Submission.”

Submissions

U.S. Marines and 

Irregular Warfare

Training and Education, 2000–2010

Dr. Nicholas J. Schlosser

U.S. Marines and Irregular Warfare

covers a period of considerable intellectual activity for the U.S. Marine 

Corps. e initial ghting during the 

Iraq and Afghanistan Wars convinced 

many Marine leaders that it needed 

to strengthen and enhance how it 

trained and educated Marines in 

counterinsurgency (COIN) operations. is book recounts the work 

of Marines and educators in the eld 

and at home at Marine Corps Base 

Quantico, Virginia, and at Marine 

Corps Air Ground Combat Center, Twentynine Palms, California.

Training and Education, 2000–2010

U.S. Marines and Irregular Warfare

covers a period of considerable intellectual activity for the U.S. Marine 

Corps. e initial ghting during the 

Iraq and Afghanistan Wars convinced 

many Marine leaders that it needed 

to strengthen and enhance how it 

trained and educated Marines in 

-

tions. is book recounts the work 

of Marines and educators in the eld 
132 MCH Vol. 2, No. 1

U.S. Marines in Afghanistan, 2001–2009

Anthology and

Annotated Bibliography

Major David W. Kummer

This anthology and bibliography presents a collection of 37 articles, interviews, and speeches describing many 

aspects of the U.S. Marine Corps participation in Operation Enduring Freedom 

from 2001 to 2009. is History Division 

publication is intended to serve as a general overview and provisional reference 

to inform both Marines and the general 

public until monographs dealing with 

major Marine Corps operations during 

the campaign can be completed. e accompanying annotated bibliography provides a detailed look at selected sources 

that currently exist until new scholarship 

and archival materials become available.

his anthology and bibliography presents a collection of 37 articles, interviews, and speeches describing many 

aspects of the U.S. Marine Corps participation in Operation Enduring Freedom 

from 2001 to 2009. is History Division 

publication is intended to serve as a general overview and provisional reference 

to inform both Marines and the general 

public until monographs dealing with 

major Marine Corps operations during 

the campaign can be completed. e accompanying annotated bibliography provides a detailed look at selected sources 

that currently exist until new scholarship 

and archival materials become available.

terviews, and speeches describing many 

from 2001 to 2009. is History Division 

public until monographs dealing with 

vides a detailed look at selected sources 

that currently exist until new scholarship 

e Path to War

U.S. Marine Corps Operations in Southeast Asia, 1961 to 1965

Colonel George R. Homann Jr. (Ret)

Book one of this commemorative series documents the activities of the U.S. Marine Corps in Southeast Asia from 

January 1961 to March 1965, during which time Marines 

saw increased involvement in the region as they served to 

protect American interests. While individual Marines saw 

duty as early as 1954 with the U.S. Military Assistance 

Advisory Group in Saigon, the rst operational unit of 

300 Marines from Marine Air Base Squadron 16 was deployed to Udorn, ailand, in March 1961 to provide 

aircra maintenance and ight-line support for Air America.

U.S. Marine Corps Operations in Southeast Asia, 1961 to 1965

ook one of this commemorative series documents the activities of the U.S. Marine Corps in Southeast Asia from 

January 1961 to March 1965, during which time Marines 

saw increased involvement in the region as they served to 

protect American interests. While individual Marines saw 

aircra maintenance and ight-line support for Air America.
e History Division is moving!

History Division will be moving to the Simmons Marine Corps 

History Center, part of the Marine Corps University. e new 

state-of-the-art wing will bring together all of the Marine Corps 

University schools into one unit. e structure will oer many 

new features and amenities for the student body, faculty, and 

sta at Marine Corps Base Quantico.

e Greene Papers:

General Wallace M. Greene Jr.

and the Escalation of the Vietnam War,

January 1964–March 1965

Nicholas J. Schlosser, 2015. Cloth. 418 pp.

The Greene Papers: General Wallace M. Greene Jr. and the Escalation of the Vietnam War, January 1964–March 1965 contains 

more than 100 documents from the personal papers of the 23d 

Commandant of the Marine Corps and is the rst edited volume 

of personal papers to be published by the Marine Corps History Division as a monograph. Produced by a member of the 

Joint Chiefs of Sta, General Greene’s notes provide a rsthand 

account from one of the main participants in the decisionmaking process that led to the commitment of a large-scale 

American expeditionary force in Southeast Asia.

is volume begins in January 1964 and ends just before 

the landing of the 9th Marine Expeditionary Brigade at Da 

Nang on 8 March 1965, a pivotal moment that marked the 

ocial transition from the United States’ advisory mission to a more active combat mission. In doing so, it traces 

Greene’s growing frustration with Secretary of Defense Robert 

S. McNamara’s and President Lyndon B. Johnson’s equivocation and uncertainty about Southeast Asia. Along with a series of commemorative pamphlets, this book 

is part of the Marine Corps History Division’s eort to mark the ieth anniversary of the Vietnam War.

Reviewed by e Federalist

“. . . his summaries allow us greater insights into the prewar processes of decision making and the military’s 

role in those deliberations—a narrative that will inspire lessons to build upon.”

–Benjamin Guterman
Marine Corps History

Issues of Marine Corps History can be found on the History Division 

website at https://www.history.usmc.mil under Publications.