John A. Lejeune |
Leadership is the sum of those qualities of intellect, human understanding, and moral character that enables a person to inspire and control a group of people successfully.
By Robert B. Asprey
The bombardment began at 0100, 12 September 1918. For nine days soldiers and Marines of the 2nd Division of American regulars had hidden in French woods to shiver in icy rain and curse the mud and slime and stench of war on the Western Front.
Now their hour was at hand. As thousands of cannon threw lethal surprise at the entrenched enemy, the American units formed into long columns and with 12 other divisions—some 300,000 men—began the march forward into the black night. On a hill above, a bulky figure watched the exploding shells, heard the muted movements of the troops, and now and again listened to a hovering staff officer. This man was Major General John A. Lejeune, USMC. He commanded the 2nd Division.
To Lejeune and to his staff the strain of the moment was immense. This would be the first time he led his division into battle, the first time an American Marine commanded a division in combat, and the first time an American army fought in Europe under an American commander-in-chief. To history the battle would be known as the St. Mihiel Offensive. On this night, though, Lejeune and his officers knew only that the 2nd Division was spearheading an attack against a massif the Germans had been fortifying for four years.
Whatever his thoughts, Lejeune looked calm. A man of medium height, he stood with wide shoulders braced against the wind. Now and again he slapped massive hands together against the cold. Occasionally the shaded light of a messenger's lamp emphasized the long prominent ears that flanked a large head, or gleamed on a spot of jet-black hair that fell in wide bangs over his forehead. Soft but alert brown eyes relieved some of the fatigue suggested by a seamed face. When he spoke, a soft deliberate voice that left little doubt of its southern origin fell easily on the listening group.
Despite the moment, General Lejeune had some reasons to be confident—or as confident as a man can be when so much is at stake on the poker table of war. The 2nd Division was a hot outfit. By the time he took command, it had fought at Belleau Wood and Soissons; its ranks had been twice decimated and twice refilled; its deeds were famous throughout France; and its fighting qualities were recorded in stunned words in more than one German diary.
All well and good, but when Lejeune took over in late July he had to fit 8,000 replacements into the business of war and had to reshape and train and inspire the division for the rugged fighting ahead. In 28 years of soldiering halfway around the globe, the 51-year-old commander had faced some difficult tasks. That this was the most difficult, he knew only too well. Using the lessons of the past, he had accomplished a great deal in six weeks. Six weeks was a short time to impose one man's will on the minds and souls of 28,000 men. Well, in a few hours he would know if he had succeeded. Until then, there was little to do but stand quietly by.
John A. Lejeune came from a good Louisiana family whose fortunes were shattered by the Civil War, in which his father had fought on the Confederate side. Although he grew up amid the fires of reconstruction, his mother's teachings of tolerance and humanity and his father's prideful conduct in the worst years prevented the fires from burning scars on the young mind. Instead, from family and home and land he gained a pride of heritage he was never to lose. And later, when he used words like honor and duty and courage and love of country, people suddenly found themselves listening and believing in them, perhaps for the first time in their lives.
Prewar Marine Recruiting Poster |
The Army almost got him, but in 1884 when his senator ran out of West Point appointments, young Lejeune went to the Naval Academy. By 1890 the newly commissioned ensign had served as captain's clerk, had been cited for bravery during a disastrous hurricane at Samoa, had participated in a Hawaiian revolution, and, from working with Marine detachments aboard ship, had fallen completely and hopelessly in love with the Marine Corps. At this point, the Navy summarily placed him in the Engineer Corps. Not wanting any part of the Engineer Corps, the 23-year-old officer shyly but persistently approached various seniors until he had exhausted without success the Annapolis chain of command. He now displayed a polite tenacity, a personal flag that was to fly over his entire career. In this case, he went to Washington, called on Senator Chandler, and asked for his aid. In short order, Ensign Lejeune was talking to the Secretary of the Navy, who, favorably impressed, rang a ranking officer and concluded the proceedings with, "Commodore, I want this young man assigned to the Marine Corps."
The Lean Years
Lejeune found himself in a 2,000-man Marine Corps, "all field officers and a large proportion of the captains being over fifty years of age." At Norfolk the Marine Barracks consisted of "a wretched wooden building containing, in addition to the mess hall, kitchen, etc., one big squad room in which all the men slept in two-storied iron bunks. Sacks stuffed with straw constituted all that the government furnished in the way of bedding, and barracks chairs were about the only articles of furniture. The ration cost only 14 cents a day." The one sergeant-major in the Corps drew $25 a month, privates $13, and the ranks were filled with foreigners, some of whom could scarcely speak English.
Still, the old service was not a bad place to learn. Early in his career the shy lieutenant fell under the influence of Sgt Major John Quick, who "perhaps of all the Marines I ever knew approached most nearly the perfect type of non-commissioned officer. . . I never knew him to raise his voice, lose his temper, or use profane language, and yet he exacted and obtained prompt and explicit obedience from all persons subject to his orders."
Later he found his model of a commander in noted Admiral John C. Watson, who deeply impressed him "by his courtesy, his kindness and his simplicity—qualities which I have learned to be the attributes of true greatness."
On the surface, the early years of Lejeune's career differed but slightly from those of his contemporaries. Serving in a variety of posts and stations at home and abroad, he fought in the Spanish-American War, was promoted to captain, then to major and to lieutenant colonel. Underneath the surface, however, a marked difference appeared. Lacking the eccentricities of such fabulous old-timers as Cols Pope and Meade, the flamboyance of "Tony" Waller, or the showmanship of young Smedley Butler, the quiet Louisianan nonetheless made his mark on those with whom he came into contact. Invariably he made this mark because somehow his actions centered not on himself nor on his career, but on the good of the service.
Typical was his behavior as a very young officer aboard USS Cincinnati. At the time, a small Navy group hoped to abolish Marine detachments from service with the fleet—thus eliminating the Marine Corps. After the ship's executive officer refused to assign his detachment to a battery, Lejeune wrote the commanding officer, presented his case and asked for "an increase in duties rather than a decrease." His request granted, he then and there decided that only by constant, outstanding service could the Corps continue to claim its place in the sun. Outstanding service meant "united, industrious, intelligent and conscientious performance of duty" until the efficiency of the Corps and thus its usefulness could not be questioned.
Lejeune on His Way Up the Career Ladder |
Leadership in Panama
Although this became his credo, he never lost sight of the human factor. When he took a battalion to Panama in 1903 the place was a hell-hole of yellow fever, malaria, dysentery, and smallpox—a jungle nightmare of mud giving way to occasional liberties in wretched towns built on booze, prostitutes, and gambling. Working closely with the brilliant Colonel George Gorgas, Lejeune held disease to a minimum (although he himself caught malaria). He established a vigorous, highly competitive athletics program, arranged hunting parties, and otherwise kept his troops busy providing an increase in their own comforts. Yet, when men did return intoxicated from liberty, he turned a blind eye so long as they went quietly to their tents. Lejeune's professional performance, enhanced by genuine humility and a brain like a faultless machine, brought him more and more to the notice of his seniors, a fact shown by his frequent trips to Washington for duty on special boards. His contacts there culminated in 1909 with an appointment to the Army War College, a rare honor and an experience he later judged to be the turning point in his career. His success was noted in a letter from the president of the College to the commandant, Marine Corps:
Lt. Colonel Lejeune has not only shown painstaking industry and steady application but has displayed marked ability and a high order of military intelligence in the work of the College course.... I consider him fit for high command or for duty as Chief of Staff of a department or division in the field and commend him to your consideration.
The Marine Corps owned no division. In fact, its highest field commands consisted of hodge-podge regiments and under-strength brigades scratched up from depots and barracks and mounted out from Philadelphia and New York. While commanding the Marine Barracks, Brooklyn Navy Yard, Lejeune led several of these forces in various Caribbean expeditions. Such was his continued performance of duty that in 1913 he very nearly became commandant. Although Secretary of the Navy Josephus Daniels finally selected Colonel Barnett, the incident began a lifelong friendship between Lejeune and Daniels that would have a lasting effect on the future of the Marine Corps.
Lejeune and Key Staff at Vera Cruz, 1914 Sgt. Major John Quick (MoH), Future Generals Wendell Neville, John Lejeune, and Smedley Butler (MoH [2]) |
Lejeune's importance was now established. There remained a matter of exploiting his potential. After another year of field service, including command of the Marine regiment at Veracruz and promotion to colonel, he was called to Washington as assistant to the commandant. There he played a vital role in the preparation and execution of war plans in the years that saw the Marine Corps begin expansion to 75,000 men in 1918.
Part II will be presented in tomorrow's Roads to the Great War.
Source: Relevance, Spring 2011, by permission, the Marine Corps Gazette. Originally published April 1962.
EXCELLENT!
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