Eyewitness: In the City of Verdun on Day 1

A French Family Evacuating Verdun

On the morning of the 21st of February [1916], it was very quiet. Then at 7:15 am, the hissing sound of shell broke the silence of the dawn.  We heard one explosion, then ten, then a thousand. Shells were falling evey 3 seconds.

My regiment had to help evacuate the the last civilians from Verdun, as quickly as possibe. The constant explosions ran through the deserted streets. Until 4pm, shells rained down on the front line.  The nightmare had only just begun.

From a French Soldier

Fighting Different Wars: Experience, Memory, and the First World War in Britain

British Women Packing Helmets for the Tommies

Tomlinson Prize Winner for  2005

By Janet S. K. Watson

Cambridge University Press, 2004

Lisa M. Budreau, Reviewer

Review Originally Presented in the Journal of Military History, April 2005

Another book on Britain and Great War memory? No, not quite. This revisionist work represents the latest in the Studies in the Social and Cultural History of Modern Warfare series under the editorial leadership of memory historian Jay Winter. In her somewhat provocative study, Janet Watson uses an exhaustive supply of published and unpublished texts (diaries, letters, poetry, public and private narratives) to challenge numerous claims concerning the war experience. Most significantly, she suggests that the disillusionment connected with the First World War was a postwar phenomenon, one gradually produced through the publication and popularity of memoirs and novels after the Armistice. "The war itself was overwhelmingly popular, and the nation came together to a remarkable degree (End Page 584) despite critical differences that reflected the nature of divisions in English society," she suggests (p. 2).

This controversial stance is supported by an innovative two-part approach in which the author considers her evidence of wartime accounts as a lived experience separately in the first section, then examines retrospective accounts and postwar writings in the second half. Though primarily a study of gender and class dynamics, the analysis is comparative in several key ways. Watson looks at both women and men side by side, with special attention paid to families where both brothers and sisters were active in the war effort. Then, she examines two groups who brought different attitudes to wartime efforts: those who viewed participation as work and those who saw it as service.

People brought a wide variety of attitudes to their efforts during wartime as the meaning of patriotism was constantly redefined. For example, professional soldiers and trained nurses, while patriotic, saw their efforts as work with a view toward career advancement. Munitions workers, by contrast, saw an opportunity for better wages and working conditions. For some, theirs was a job that had to be done while others believed king, honor, and glory were their supreme duty. Perceptions of class position played a crucial role in the way different types of war work were viewed, according to Watson. These views, in turn, were grounded in convictions about the preservation of social order in Britain's wartime class society. Interestingly, Watson concludes that people who had seen their wartime participation in terms of service were most likely to remember it as a story of disillusionment. [Editor's underline]

Some aspects of Watson's argument are bound to provoke. She states, for example, "Without diminishing the terrors of trench bombardment or the total horrifics of mass advance into direct machine gun fire (though this was not, fortunately, a frequent occurrence), we must acknowledge and give credence to other portrayals of the war experience which are not uniformly negative" (p. 50). Granted, most conventional histories begin with idealistic volunteers and end with shattered veterans and names on memorials. But what about perspectives during the war? The author asks us to consider where the shift occurred from valuable contribution of soldiers during the war years toward the attitude of useless sacrifice?

Click HERE to Order

Without minimizing the considerable effort that has gone into this study, perhaps the book's greatest contribution to First World War scholarship is its ability to bring such questions of memory to the forefront of traditional military history inquiry. All credit to a work that is freshly researched and can genuinely be said to contribute so significantly to the field. Similarly, I applaud the Journal for its range and diversity by eliciting this new and distinctive historiographical genre for review.

Lisa M. Budreau

Most Expensive World War One Items Ever on the Antiques Roadshow — Video

First World War Epitaphs That Have Endured

 

By James Patton

John Maxwell Edmonds

John Maxwell Edmonds (1875–1958) was a classical scholar and lecturer at Cambridge. The son of an Anglican clergyman whose wife was the daughter of a wealthy cloth merchant, he was educated at Oundle School (which was founded in 1556) and Jesus College, Cambridge, finishing with a first in 1898. He then taught at Repton and King’s School, Canterbury, the latter of which is the oldest school in the UK, before returning to Cambridge as a Lecturer in Classics. When not working with students he wrote poetry and translated Greek elegiacs into English, some of which are still available. During the war, both he and his wife Ethel worked in the War Office’s code breaking bureau, called M.I.1 (b).

In a role reversal, Edmonds also translated into a Greek elegiac his fellow Cambridge Don and well-known poet A. E. Housman's (1859-1936) “Epitaph on an Army of Mercenaries,” which was "a tribute to the original British Expeditionary Force." The use of the term mercenary was taken from a derogatory comment made by the Kaiser. The poem was published in the Times on 31 October 1917, the third anniversary of the First Battle of Ypres. Edmond’s classical Greek version was published in the Classical Review 31 later that year. Here is the English text: 

Previously, in 1916, Edmonds had contributed his “Twelve Epitaphs, to be appropriate for use in a British Graveyard in France.” In 1919 the Imperial War Graves Commission included these on their approved list for their grave markers. Four of them had been published by the Times on 6 February 1918, page 7, headed "Four Epitaphs" composed for graves and memorials to those fallen in battle—each covering different situations of death. Here are the most well known:

And

These epitaphs were often quoted by the Times in the death notices of the fallen and also appear on municipal and institutional war memorials in the U.K.

Edmond's family later said that he was inspired by an ancient Greek elegiac of Simonides of Ceos (556–468 BCE) honoring the heroic last stand by Leonidas (540–480 BCE) and his Spartans at Thermopylae in 480 BCE. They also claim that Edmond’s permission was never sought to use his works (he didn’t die until 1958).

Fast forward about 25 years to a landing in the Naga Hills, Assam, India. The Battle of Kohima here took place from 4 April to 22 June 1944. Featuring colorfully labelled engagements such as the Battle of the Admin Box and the Battle of the Tennis Court, the 2nd British and 7th Indian Divisions turned back the spearhead of the Japanese XV Army, ending Japan’s last offensive of the war. Kohima was one of the bloodiest and most grueling battles fought by Commonwealth forces in the Second World War. 

There rises today, smack in the middle of that hard-fought-over Tennis Court, a stone monolith on which are inscribed Edmond’s famous couplet, known henceforth as the Kohima Epitaph:

The source of the textual changes, "your tomorrow" for "these tomorrows" and "our" for "their," was Maj. John Etty-Leal, the Indian Army staff officer responsible for erecting the original monument, who simply misremembered the words.  

Went the Day Well? was the title of a popular 1942 British movie based on a story by Graham Greene. As a text, it has also been set to music. You can listen HERE.  

Sources include the Commonwealth War Graves Commission, The Burma Star Association  and The War Room, a blog by Maj. (ret.) Robert Lyman Ph.D., MBE, F R. Hist. S., author of popular press WWII books.

 

The Marines Were There on the Last Night of the War

On 10–11 November 1918, under a heavy artillery barrage, United States Marines of the AEF's 2nd Division crossed the River Meuse on pontoon bridges constructed by the division's 2nd (Army) Engineers.  The attack successfully established a bridgehead looking toward the further advance of the U.S. First Army on the east bank of the river.  The announcement of an armistice commencing at 1100 hours brought a quick end to fighting on both sides on the morning of 11 November. The Marine's effort was immortalized by the painting below. (Click to enlarge)

The Last Night of the War
By Frederick C. Yohn, 1920

Mark Mortensen

At the end of October 1918, the 2nd Division, commanded by Major General John A. Lejeune, USMC, was placed under the command of Major General Charles Summerall commanding the First Army’s V Corps. To set the tone for the November attacks,  which would be the final offensive mounted by the AEF. Summerall visited with the Marines in each battalion giving them a stern, rather arrogant speech. He demanded they keep moving forward at a fast pace, not sparing time to take prisoners or aid wounded Marines. Most of the, now highly experienced, combat infantry Marines did not appreciate the tone of the lecture or its content. 

George Hamilton, USMC

Major George Hamilton of the division's 5th Marine Regiment was respected by Marine officers above him. Those under his command had full confidence in him and would die for him. As a company commander he was recommended for the Medal of Honor for heroism at Belleau Wood on 6 June, the first day of the counteroffensive. [Article] In October, commanding 1/5,at Blanc Mont, his battalion was reduced to 168 Marines in “The Box,” but he stood his ground and led his “boys” to victory. [Article] Hamilton was an expert rifleman, and unlike most senior officers he carried his rifle with him to participate.

With no fires allowed, the cold damp November weather was taking a toll on the physical condition of the Marines. Many were ill and contagious from the flu (both Spanish and common), while others suffered from bronchitis, diarrhea, and blisters. The ranks were severely diminished and replacements were not available. 

There Must Have Been a Good Reason for It, but This Map Is Unconventionally Upside Down with North at the Bottom.  The Site of the Crossing Is Shown Lower Right (Northwest) Corner

The Marines had been living on the edge of combat death for months. On 10 November 1918, rumors of a possible end to the war gained momentum, with the belief that the 11th would be the final day. It would be nice to wait out the final hours, but Major Hamilton remained in attack mode simply accepting that orders were orders. The general plan of attack was simply to cross the Meuse River, attack the Germans on the other side and keep moving east at a quick pace. The 2nd Division's Army Engineers were busy making portable wooden pontoon bridges. Major Hamilton would be responsible for overseeing the southern Meuse River crossing consisting of three battalions, 1/5, 2/5, and the U.S. Army 89th. Hamilton’s friend, Marine Major George Shuler, would oversee the northern crossing of 1/6, 2/6, 3/6, and 3/5.  

At around 1900, the sections for the pontoon bridges were loaded onto wagons and movement began to the river. With darkness, the fog was so dense that it was difficult to see three feet ahead. Second Engineers guided the Marines along the path forward, to assure everyone they were heading in the right direction. The action between both sides had intensified with flares and bombs bursting away, creating an assortment of muted colors in the fog above. When they reached the elevated riverbank, the pontoon sections were hand carried to the river below. Although the Germans could not see the opposite side of the river, they fired random machine guns and artillery into the area. Again, the engineers displayed heroism as they lashed the pontoon sections together and secured the complete bridges on both sides of the river with 30-foot anchor lines. The Marines praised them.  

The two northern bridges were destroyed before a crossing was deployed,  so Major Shuler and his men would have to remain and ride out the night. The news at Hamilton’s southern crossing was not good either. The 89th Division would not be able to meet the timeline to cross. Additionally, the southern bridge that 2/5 was to cross had been identified by the Germans. With the element of surprise lost, artillery destroyed the bridge. The Marines in 2/5 would have to align with 1/5 to cross on the only bridge remaining. The Marines did not like standing and waiting in the middle of a war zone, with even gas explosions, but there was no option. Throughout the mayhem, Marine comrades close by would glance at each other reflecting an air of confidence.   

One of the Bridge Sites in 2012

Finally, around 2230 on the eve of potential Armistice, the Marines in 1/5, focused and mentally prepared, were set to cross with fixed bayonets. As Major Hamilton was navigating onto the bridge to lead his men, he was either bumped or lost his balance, which placed his legs in the frigid water. Other Marines began to cross. Hamilton quickly joined the line and was off and charging forward again with his “boys,” which he often called his Marines. Through the darkness and fog the Marines had to cross in a single line, spacing themselves accordingly. If they bunched too close the bridge would sink about a foot into the water. Still, they had to keep close contact with their partner in front to identify direction. During his speech, Summerall had warned the Marines they would face many German machine guns along the far bank. He was correct, and while crossing some Marines were hit with scattered fire, making a “sock" noise, plunging them into the river. The death toll was climbing. 

Once on the opposite side of the river, members of 1/5 traversed the mud and tall grass to firmer ground. Their battalion of officers and Marines now totaled around 100. The Marines sprang into action with their practiced art of  individual and hand-to-hand combat—kill or be killed being the order of the day. Hamilton, who was extremely athletic, was leading his Marines in this final battle of the war. The rush was intense to silence machine gun nests. 

Major Charles Dunbeck, commanding 2/5, followed over the bridge prior to midnight. He would report to Hamilton. Major Mark Hanna commanding the Army 89th battalion and reporting to Hamilton, finally made it across the river with a few soldiers. However, he was quickly killed, and the lone bridge was destroyed. 

Original Message

At 0910 a.m. on the morning of the 11th, Armistice Day, Hamilton’s commanding officer, Col. Logan Feland, issued the above note to Hamilton: 

All Firing will cease at 11 A.M. today, hold every inch of ground that you have gained, including that gained by patrols. Send in as soon as possible a sketch showing positions of all until 11 AM. 

With all bridges across the Meuse River destroyed, it would take an extended amount of time for a courier to get across the river and locate Major Hamilton, who was continuing his mission east. According to the map above, the Marines advanced over 3,000 yards that morning. The fog would not lift until 1300. Marine Capt. Robert Blake, commanding the 66th Co., was with Hamilton when the courier finally delivered the note confirming the war was over. Capt. Blake, who later retired the Marine Corps as a major general, stated in a memoir that the time the note was received was roughly 1330, two and a half hours after the set Armistice time of 11:00 a.m. Major Hamilton saved the historic note and added his signature for authenticity. (I verify that that is Hamilton’s signature.)  

There is no official record of Marine casualties on the last night and day of the war. It appears that 31 were killed and 148 wounded, however his figure does not include Marines missing in action or those who died of wounds days later. The figures might be much higher. Private Clarence Richmond of 2/5 later wrote: 

Near the small bridge the bank of the river was strewn with our dead. I counted about twenty-five within a distance of a hundred yards. Several shells had hit directly where we had laid along the bank of the river. Nearly all of one platoon of one of the other companies had been either killed or wounded. All the dead still lay where they had fallen. On the other side of the river, the dead were more numerous. Here wad [sic] had suffered our greatest casualties.

Following the Armistice, Major General Lejeune, commanding the 2nd Division, issued the following statement: 

On the night of November 10th heroic deeds were done by heroic men. In the face of heavy artillery and withering machine gunfire, the Second Engineers threw two foot bridges across the Meuse and the First and Second battalions of the of the Fifth Marines crossed resolutely and unflinchingly to the east bank and carried out their mission. In the last battle of the war, as in all others in which this division has participated, it enforced its will on the enemy. 

Following the war, artist Frederick C. Yohn was inspired to capture the heroism shown by the Marines on evening leading up to Armistice. He used Major Hamilton as the model Marine for his historic painting titled The Last Night of the War, created in 1920. Hamilton is intentionally featured in the middle of his Marines, in action, across the Meuse River carrying his rifle and holding his helmet. Sadly, Hamilton died two years later in a tragic military training accident at the Gettysburg battlefield. Major Hamilton’s father, Charles, was known as dean of the Congressional press corps. In 1941 he gave a copy of Yohn’s famous painting featuring his son, to his friend, President Franklin Roosevelt. On 6 February 1941, FDR sent a kind thank-you letter to “Charlie,” praising Major Hamilton.

Several years ago, former Defense Secretary William Cohen mentioned in a note to me that Hamilton was “…surely one of America’s finest. The painting of The Last Night of The War is truly powerful. It captures the violence, death and unbounded courage that marked the “war to end all wars.” 

My grandfather, Pvt. Ove Mortensen 66th Co. 1/5 (1890–1980) was alongside Major Hamilton on 10/11November. The memory and heroism of Major George W. Hamilton and his Marines and engineers should never be forgotten.

Mark Mortensen is the biographer of Hamilton. His work, George W. Hamilton, USMC: America's Greatest World War I Hero, can be ordered HERE.

From Your Editor:  This concludes our week-long focus on the U.S. Marines. Please let us know what you thought of this approach and if you have a First World War topic you would like to explore from various different angles. MH

Remembering a Veteran: Beyond the Famous Quote — The Great War Service of First Sgt. Dan Daly, USMC

By Editor Mike Hanlon

Sgt. Major Dan Daly, MoH (2), DSC

Before the Great War

By some cosmic quirk of fate, Dan Daly was born on 11 November 1873, in Brooklyn, New York, to parents John and Ellen Daly. After surviving the most recent of his three wounds in the World War, he would have had multiple causes to celebrate on his 45th birthday in 1918. 

He had a sister named Mary and a brother named David, and the family eventually moved to Glen Cove on Long Island. As a young man, Daly spent his time working as a struggling newsboy in Manhattan before enlisting in the Marines in 1899 at the age of 26. Soon after he finished training, he was shipped to China to serve in Peking during the Boxer Rebellion where he distinguished himself and received  his first Medal of Honor.  In 1915, while deployed to Haiti, now Gunnery Sgt Daly was awarded a second Medal of Honor.  He  is still the only enlisted Marine to be awarded Medals of Honor for two separate actions and a World War was awaiting him and he was already the most decorated Marine in history.

During the Great War

When the big war came, Dan Daly went to France as First Sergeant of the 73rd Machine Gun Company of the 6th Marines. He saw intense action at Belleau Wood, the St. Mihiel Salient, and Blanc Mont Ridge. 

Click on Image to Enlarge

At the National Museum of the Marine Corps

About That Quote at Belleau Wood

All students of the war are  familiar with that quote shown here, attributed to Daly, which has become part of  Marine and American legend.  There's some indication that Dan, himself, later thought that he might have voiced the encouragement in a slightly more moderate tone.  However, as a movie character once put it, "When the legend becomes fact, print the legend." As you can see from the photo above, his legendary quote at Belleau Wood has not only been printed widely, it's been engraved in stone.

Fighting the War

Putting the quote to the side,  Dan Daly fought a World War filled with heroic deeds and personal sacrifice almost beyond belief.  Why this is not better known is something of a mystery. One clue from biographer, Charley Roberts, gives a clue from one of his sources,  “Trying to get biographical data from Daly about Daly is like quizzing the Sphinx. Both are non-committal.” Dan, it seems, was the antithesis of a self-promoter.  If you look online you will find many references to a third Medal of Honor nomination for him, based on his overall performance (not the quote) at Belleau Wood.    The various accounts claim the recommendation was downgraded.  The reasons given for this decision by someone in authority are  that either Daly already had two of the awards (and who needs a third?) or that the Army, which had overall command of the 2nd Division's, or General Pershing himself, just weren't in the mood for handing out Medals of Honor to Marines. As a result, so the various accounts conclude, the recommendation was down-graded to the Distinguished Service Cross and the Navy equivalent, the Navy Cross.

One problem with these contentions is that no one I can find provides a paper trail showing an original recommendation for a Medal of Honor for Daly. I can't find it. With the second Army vs Marines point, there were three individuals with the Marine Brigade who received the award for actions at Belleau Wood, one Marine and two Navy medical men who saw action alongside the Marine. So I don't buy it.

To be clear, though, I'm only skeptical about the explanations why a third Medal of Honor was not issued to Daly. Putting this long-simmering dispute aside for now, let me give you my view after reading and comparing the Medal of Honor citations for all 121 recipients in the First World War (available HERE) and studying Daly's full service in the war.

Dan Daly Should Receive the Medal of Honor for His WWI Service, Posthumously.

"How Twenty Marines Took Bouresches" by Schoonover
Dan Daly Was There

Here is the case for this award as I see it after reviewing his citations and  the unit and operational histories of the battles where Daly was involved. Where appropriate, I'm quoting from his Distinguished Service Cross citation.

At Belleau Wood

• During this operation, on 5 June and at the risk of his life, he extinguished a fire in the ammunition dump at Lucy le Bocage. 
• Two days later, while the Belleau Wood sector was under one of its heaviest bombardments, he visited all machine gun crews of his company, then posted over a wide section of the front, encouraging his men. 
• On 10 June, he single-handedly attacked an enemy machine gun emplacement, capturing it by the use of hand grenades and an automatic pistol. 
• On the same date, during an enemy attack on the village of Bouresches, he brought in wounded under heavy fire.  
• Finally on 10 June,  he was wounded in the leg and knocked out of action for two months.

At St. Mihiel

• He returned to his post with the 73rd Machine Gun Company in time for September's St. Mihiel Offensive.  
• No specifics are available for Daly at St. Mihiel, but his of the 73rd Company distinguished itself throughout the action by protecting the left flank of the 2nd Division, which had been left open by the neighboring division. (I imagine the top sergeant would be pretty busy at such a time.)

At Blanc Mont

• On 8 October, 1918 in the critical assault on the German strongpoint of St. Etienne, Daly was wounded in the shoulder, and kept directing the fire of his machine gunners. 
• Wounded a second time in the knee, knocking him out of action.  
• After two months recuperation, Dan Daly again reported back to his unit for service and completed  a tour of occupation duty, before returning home.

Dan Daly — Young Marine, Old Marine

Afterwards

Back home, Daly remained on active duty until September 1919, when he transferred to the Fleet Marine Corps Reserve. He eventually took a job on Wall Street as a bank guard, a position he held for 17 years. Daly officially retired from the Marine Corps on Feb. 6, 1929, and was advanced to the rank of sergeant major.

Having never married, Daly led a quiet retirement. He worked as a night bank guard and enjoyed New York Giants ball games from the bleachers during baseball season. On April 27, 1937, he died of heart disease at his sister's home in the Glendale area of Queens. He is buried at the Cypress Hills National Cemetery, Brooklyn.

PS:  My Unsolicited Advice

Dear Marines,

Send this article to the Commandant, Secretary of the Navy, elected reps,  and folks like that.  Maybe you'll stir things up.  Remember, that's how Sgts. Bill Shemin and Henry Johnson got the justice they deserved a few years ago.  MH

PS:  #2

I am not a Marine myself, I'm an Air Force veteran. However, 3 of my sisters married Marines if that counts for anything.

The Belleau Wood Marine Monument and the Iron Mikes

In a clearing in the heart of Belleau Wood, which is adjacent to America's Aisne-Marne Cemetery, stands this granite and bronze relief  originally titled, according to the Library of Congress, the Belleau Wood Marine Monument. Dedicated on 18 November 1955, this is the only memorial in Europe dedicated solely to the United States Marines. 

The Library of Congress report on the monument gives these specifics:

It is a black granite stele located at the center of a small terrace with a flagpole and plantings. The stele holds a bronze bas relief executed by New York-based sculptor Felix de Weldon [who had earlier designed the giant Marine Corps War Memorial in Arlington, VA]. The bronze depicts a life-sized Marine facing partially away from the viewer and striding up a rock outcropping with rifle and bayonet. He is shirtless and slightly hunched over, emphasizing the prominent musculature of this back.

This Marine figure is commonly called "Iron Mike," but there is some dispute over how "official" that title is.  To confuse matters, there are other Marine "Iron Mikes" and at least one at Normandy honoring America's D-Day paratroopers, where my uncle Tommy Stack fought in battle with the 82nd Airborne.

This Up-Close View Shows the Scale of the Piece
(That's Your Editor Just to the Left)

Below the statue is a commemorative plaque with a large version of the Marine Corps Eagle, Globe, and Anchor insignia. The plaque includes a brief history of the battle with text in both English and French. The base of bon accord granite, the same as used in the base of the Marine Corps War Memorial in Arlington, VA, came from Karlshamn, Sweden. The seven-foot tall Marine with bayonet with the plaque—admired by the senior French present at its dedication as "very powerful and forceful...fully embodying the spirit of the Marines."  

Every Memorial Day the Marine Commandant or his designee lays a wreath at the Monument with a senior French officer.

A Memorial Day Ceremony I Attended
French and U.S. Marines in Formation

Following the war, as noted on the plaque, the French government renamed the forest "Bois de la Brigade de Marine." Officiating at the monument's 1955 dedication ceremony was then Commandant of the Marine Corps, General Lemuel C. Shepherd Jr., who had fought and was wounded at Belleau Wood 37 years earlier. Also in attendance were three other Marine General Officers who had also fought at Belleau Wood, William A. Worton, Gerald C. Thomas, and Alfred H. Noble, as well as the artist Felix de Weldon.

In his speech, General Shepherd stated:

The bravery and courageous action of the officers and men of the Marine Corps who participated in this battle forms one of the brightest pages of our history. It is these Marines and especially those whose life’s blood rests on this hallowed soil that we honor today. Two years ago, when I visited Belleau Wood, I was distressed to note that no marker existed to tell future generations of French and American visitors the story of this battle. The plaque we are about to unveil was designed and cast by that distinguished sculptor Mr. Felix de Weldon, whose famous portrait in bronze of the Marine Flag Raising at Mount Suribachi on Iwo Jima, in World War II, is recognized as one of the world’s greatest statues.

Other Iron Mikes

Iron Mike is something of a mythic figure for the Corps.  For instance, the service's annual fitness competition is named in his honor. Other statues now called "Iron Mike" came into existence long before the Belleau Wood monument was created.  

The best-known is now represented by two versions of the sculpture, both located in Virginia. Iron Mike is officially titled "Crusading for Right." The statues depict a World War I Marine holding a 1903 Springfield rifle, wearing a pack with a bayonet. They have an interesting origin.  At the end of the war, U.S. Army General John J. Pershing commissioned the French sculptor Charles Raphaël Peyre  to commemorate the service of the U.S. Army’s Doughboys. The sculptor, unaware of the differences between the branches of service, used a Marine private as a model and included the Eagle, Globe and Anchor insignia on the helmet. To make a long story short, the Army and the American Battle Monuments Commission turned down the statue and the Marine Corps grabbed it up (possibly with the help of an American Legion Post). It was installed at Quantico in 1921.

 

Today, the original statue stands at the Marine Corps Base Quantico in front of Butler Hall, home of the Marine Corps Training and Education Command. The reproduction shown above with the name "Iron Mike" on its pedestal stands in front of the National Museum of the Marine Corps in Triangle, Virginia.

A lesser-known Iron Mike was created with the encouragement of Commandant John Lejeune, the local commander, and the support of Marine veterans and installed at Parris Island in 1924. Robert Ingersoll Aitken was an internationally known sculptor located in the city of New York. Aitken, who had been a captain of a machine gun unit in the U.S. Army’s 306th Infantry Regiment, wrote Cole offering a proposed design for a statue depicting a Marine carrying a heavy machine gun. Intrigued, Cole asked for clarification on how Aitken would like the statue exhibited and when it would be completed. Cole forwarded the correspondence to Commandant John A. Lejeune, who immediately asked for advice from the U.S. Commission of Fine Arts, an independent agency of the federal government that reviews and advises on the design and aesthetics of all construction within the nation’s capital.  

After all the approvals, the work was installed in 1924. Somewhere along the line, someone apparently named it Iron Mike, and it stuck. The sculpture bears the inscription:

IN MEMORY OF THE MEN OF PARRIS ISLAND

WHO GAVE THEIR LIVES IN THE WORLD WAR.

ERECTED BY THEIR COMRADES.

The Army's Iron Mike

I hope it doesn't offend any of our Marine Corps readers or contributors, but I feel compelled to include the Army's Iron Mike in this article. This statue is located south of Utah Beach, Normandy, where the 82nd Airborne fought off an attack by German troops driving captured French tanks. It has a twin at Fort Bragg.

La Fière Bridge, Normandy
In Memory of Corporal Thomas Stack,
505th Parachute Infantry

Sources:  ABMC, Smithsonian, Library of Congress, Normandy Tourism, and USMC sources (sometimes contradictory) too numerous to list (or remember).

What Did the Marine Corps Study After the War? — Gallipoli!

British Landing at Gallipoli, August 1915
(How Not to Do It)

The United States Marine Corps provided ground troops for the AEF in the Great War who were essentially used like conventional army infantry. However, in the interwar period, the Corps, now led by the successful 2nd Division commander John Lejeune, realized that with the Pacific Theater in play, the next war would feature more amphibious operations.  For them this meant operating in conjunction—primarily—with the Navy rather than the Army. Lejeune identified the new wartime mission of the Marines as seizing advance bases for the fleet as early as 1920,

Where to look for lessons on what can go wrong and what needs careful attention in amphibious operations? Well, the Great War had two interesting amphibious assaults, Germany's Operation Albion capture of some Baltic Islands in 1917 and the Allied assault on the Gallipoli Peninsula in 1915.  Since seeing what could go wrong is especially fruitful, the failed campaign at Gallipoli—which featured two failed landings—became the choice.

The agency that would form a link in the 1930s between the events and lessons learned at Gallipoli and Marine Corps amphibious doctrine, which as of yet was undeveloped, was the Marine Corps Schools (now Marine Corps University), Quantico, Virginia. The impetus to develop, teach, and give form to Marine Corps amphibious doctrine was twofold: the newly formalized role of the Marine Corps and an awareness of the type of warfare that would arise in the Pacific if the U. S. went to war with Japan. 

It is ironic that the Gallipoli Campaign, considered by so many to have been a costly political, strategic, and operational debacle, should serve as a case study for Marine officers at Quantico, yet the 20th century had little else to offer. In World War I, American troops, including Marines, had debarked at friendly ports and traveled to the front by rail and road with relative ease. Marines serving on expeditionary duty had landed in Nicaragua, Mexico, and Haiti, but large-scale, opposed landings were, by American experience, in the realm of the unknown. 

Colonel E. B. Miller, Assistant Commandant of the Marine Corps Schools wrote in September of 1932 regarding the Marine Corps' need to get on with the process of preparing for amphibious operations, "WE MUST KNOW; THE NAVY MUST KNOW; and THE NAVY MUST KNOW THAT THE MARINE CORPS KNOWS."  

By 1933 the Marine Corps had in hand the Joint Overseas Expedition Manual, 1933, a 43-page publication from the Joint Army-Navy Board. The manual's purpose was "to present a set of  general principles for the planning and conduct of joint overseas expeditions in order to ensure the most effective cooperation and coordination between Army and Navy forces..." Although the pamphlet dealt with  joint operations and was not oriented toward the offensive phase of amphibious operations, it did  provide general guidelines for the division of  responsibility between the Navy and landing forces, it  identified areas which required close coordination and  the preparation of service and joint plans, and it provided a base of common terminology. 

Interwar Training on the New Methods

The pamphlet also illustrated the novelty of amphibious operations, and the inexperience of U.S. naval and ground forces in their conduct. The portion devoted to training would hardly have inspired confidence in the readiness of America's armed forces to face the threat of the Japanese, as it read: 

Joint Training: The difficulties of landing on a hostile shore from small boats, heavily encumbered troops, most of whom have had little or no experience with the sea, and the unfamiliarity of the Navy with attack of land objectives, and with firing over friendly troops, make it necessary that as much preliminary joint training be carried out as time  permits.

What followed was a wholehearted study effort by the Marine Corps schools. Work was divided among multiple committees covering such topics as, Naval Gun Fire, Intelligence, Supply, Navigation, Signals, and Support Bases for maintaining and loading ships and dealing with the wounded. Of course, central to all the research were the details of what actually happened at Cape Helles and Anzac on 25 April 1915 and Suvla Bay the following August. 

Briefing for the Invasion of Tarawa, 1943
First Big Test of the New Doctrine

Lieutenant Colonel E. W. Sturdevant, who had been tasked to prepare and conduct the Gallipoli Course, delivered lectures on the events leading up to the campaign, General Hamilton's plans of attack in April and August of 1915, the Turkish plan of defense, and a final lecture on command and leadership at Gallipoli. At the request of officers who had attended the previous year's Gallipoli Course, an additional presentation on air operations was added in 1933. Navy officers gave classes on naval activities and medical care.

Sturdevant was indeed strong in his criticism of the command and leadership problems found at Gallipoli, and he presented this somewhat dramatic expression of his views: 

Did we still believe in magic and witchcraft, it would be easy to think that some evil genius had thrown a spell over Hamilton's force, so that whenever the enemy made a misstep, a British officer counter balanced it with a worse one; whenever the door to victory was open, a strange paralysis seized upon the wills of the British leaders and prevented them from marching through. 

Marine Generals of the Pacific Theater 
Roy Geiger, Holland Smith,  Julian Smith
They Would Apply the Lessons from Quantico 

 

A Personal Postscript

Try as I might, I've not been able to discover which of the study committees addressed the matter of post-landing tactics once the Marines needed to secure their objective. I can, however, infer what might have been the results of such study from conversations with my late brother-in-law, Master Gunnery Sergeant Voyon Kachadorian of the 14th Marines (an artillery unit). Looking back at what he had observed at Saipan, Tinian, and Iwo Jima, Voyon described the strategy as "getting across the f@#$!& island as fast as possible and then going back and cleaning up the f@#$!& mess."

Just a guess here, but I think the Marines might have paid special attention to the August 1915 landings at Suvla Bay, when the British commanders let their troops sit on the beaches, while Mustfa Kemal had his troops seized the previously unoccupied high ground.   

An army officer who was also studying Gallipoli in the interwar period, named George Patton, described that operation, echoing Colonel Sturdevant:

Compared to Suvla Bay, the first battle of Bull Run was a masterpiece of effective leadership. The chapter of accidents, or better, of inexcusable failures, which marked the British landing and subsequent attack at Suvla Bay, is one of the most depressing and yet  instructive in military history. 

Sources: Our Over the Top issues of June 2009 and September 2011; particularly helpful was the article "Marine Corps Amphibious Doctrine—The Gallipoli Connection," by Major Karen L. Corbett, USMC, from which I've quoted extensively.

 

 

The Leatherneck Who Brought the War Back Home to Broadway and Hollywood

Capt. Laurence Stallings, USMC

Laurence Tucker Stallings, Jr., was born 25 November 1894, in Macon, Georgia. In 1916 he graduated from Wake Forest College where he had edited the campus literary magazine. His first job as a reporter on the Atlanta Constitution began in 1915 before he received his diploma.

In 1917, he joined the United States Marine Reserve. On 24 April 1918, he left Philadelphia aboard the USS Henderson for overseas duty in France. Stallings served in France as a platoon commander with the 3rd Battalion, 5th Marines, during the fighting around Chateau-Thierry. On 26 June 1918 at the Battle of Belleau Wood, Stallings was shot in the right leg and its knee cap blown off while leading a successful assault on an enemy machine gun post. He was promoted to captain, awarded the Silver Star and the Croix de Guerre by the French government. He  talked the military doctors out of amputating his leg

Once home, he married his college sweetheart. Helen Poteat was the daughter of the Wake Forest president, William Louis Poteat. The wedding was on 6 March 1919, at the campus in Winston-Salem. After the wedding, the couple moved to Washington, DC, where Stallings joined the Washington Times as a reporter while earning his M.A. from Georgetown's School of Foreign Service.  

Stallings had never fully recovered from his combat injuries, and in 1922 a fall on ice led to the amputation of his right leg. About this time he began writing a semi-autobiographical novel about his war experiences.

On Broadway

Original Playbill

By 1924, Stallings was writing book reviews three days a week for the New York World. He was tapped by executive editor Herbert Bayard Swope to be on the “Op. Ed” page with notable journalists Franklin P. Adams, Heywood Broun, Frank Sullivan, and Alexander Woollcott. He shared an office with Maxwell Anderson, at the time a fellow editorial writer. They collaborated on their first play, What Price Glory? for the powerful Broadway producer Arthur Hopkins. With What Price Glory? Stallings was able to share his real-life experiences about the trauma, humor and heartbreak of Marines in combat. It was a hit at the Plymouth Theater, 236 West 45th Street, and ran for more than a year. Two movie versions of the play were eventually produced.

But he was not finished with the Great War. His novel, Plumes, was a contender for the 1925 Pulitzer Prize. As our reviewer Bryan Alexander described it:  "The plot follows the life of Richard Plume, a college student who signs up to fight Germans. We're actually first introduced to his ancestors, a long line of Plumes who fought and suffered for every American war back to the revolution. In that tradition Richard finds some success in France but is then badly wounded and invalided home. This shatters his life, altering his hopes and career, while traumatizing his wife. Plumes concerns his struggles to survive and rebuild."

His novel was adapted for the silent movie epic The Big Parade that same year. Directed by maverick filmmaker King Vidor, The Big Parade played to sell-out crowds across the nation and became the biggest grossing silent film of all time.

Film Versions of Stallings's Early Works

Stallings and Anderson went on to co-write two more plays—The First Flight and The Buccaneer, both of which premiered in 1925—before going their separate ways. Stallings continued to work in theater. He wrote the book and lyrics for the musical Deep River, which ran briefly in October of 1926. He co-wrote the book for the 1928 musical Rainbow with Oscar Hammerstein, adapted Ernest Hemingway’s A Farewell to Arms for the stage in 1930, co-wrote the book for the 1937 musical Virginia, and he wrote a WWII play, The Streets Are Guarded, which premiered in 1944. Meanwhile in 1933 he produced the first of his two very popular World War One historical works, The First World War: A Photographic History. Stallings—through his selection of photos—was quite candid about the brutality of war and was identified as "anti-war" by reviewers.

Hollywood Calls

Some of the Best Known-Films with Screenplays
by Laurence Stallings

In the late 1930s,  Stallings gave up his extensive library and home in North Carolina and moved to Santa Barbara, California, and never returned to the South. In Hollywood he most notably served as a key influence for several of John Ford’s greatest films, having wrote or co-wrote 3 Godfathers, She Wore a Yellow Ribbon, and The Sun Shines Bright. He is also credited for contributing to the screenwriting of Vidor’s Northwest Passage, as well as Leslie Fenton’s The Man from Dakota and On Our Merry Way.

When the U.S. entered World War II, Stallings went back on active duty with the Marines in 1942. He eventually served as an intelligence officer at the Pentagon and attained the rank of lieutenant colonel.

Lest We Forget: The WWI Titles
(All are hard to find, but worth the trouble)

He later lived in Pacific Palisades and continued working in the film industry as his health deteriorated. Doctors had to remove his left leg in 1963, the same year he published a stirring account of World War I, Doughboys: The Story of the AEF 1917-1918. Stallings died of a heart attack on 28 February 1968, at his home. He received a military burial with a Marine Corps honor guard. Stallings is interred outside San Diego in Ft. Rosecrans National Cemetery.

Sources:  The Algonquinrountable.org; Georgetown University Walsh School of Foreign Service; Review of Plumes by Bryan Alexander HERE; Wake Forest University Library; Rootsweb