Chapter Thirty

 

Thirty

 

“For over 221 years our Corps has done two things for this great Nation. We make Marines and we win battles.”

General Charles C. Krulak

    Back home, I rested and recovered from the high intensity whirlwind of the previous few months. I caught up with friends from high school, but mostly spent the days safely sitting to allow my foot to heal. Those few weeks were the longest I had been home since graduating from high school over four years earlier. Many of my friends that went to college weren’t returning to live in Stanly County. Low cost Aluminum could be purchased from Russia cheaper than it could be made in the US, and the plant in Badin was cutting back operations. Competition from Mexico and Asia forced the textile mills in Albemarle to shut down. They would no longer provide manufacturing jobs or management and executive positions. The nation’s economy overall had slowed, and the boom years of the 80s had been replaced by a general feeling of pessimism that came with higher interest rates. I was glad to have a job waiting for me in the Corps. Most of the college graduates I knew planned to live in Charlotte or Raleigh, where opportunities were more available and salaries were generally higher. There was a since of times changing, and not for the better. Badin now had many low-income residents who depended on government assistance. There were still jobs in the area, but they didn’t have didn’t have the allure of what was available in the metropolitan areas. 

One notable exception was Chris. He had found a promising job with a local manufacturing company where a relative worked and was excited about the future. We caught up and compared notes and stories of the couple of months since graduation. We both missed Chapel Hill, but it was time to start the next chapter of our lives. One late afternoon, he called, said he had something he wanted to show me and was coming over. Sitting in the swing on the front porch, I watched as a brand-new white Ford Thunderbird slowly and carefully pulled into the driveway, with Chris behind the wheel. As much as he loved that orange Camaro, the Thunderbird was a beauty. We talked for a while before he had to go, and we agreed to get together when I returned for Thanksgiving. He climbed in his new ride and rumbled down the gravel drive to the sound of Mötley Crüe.

My foot healed on schedule, the cast was removed, and I was examined and cleared for duty. There was still the formal matter of being commissioned as an officer, so I coordinated with the NROTC unit for Colonel Walls to preside over the ceremony. I later found out that Walls had been instrumental in the decision to let me continue OCS. If not for him, there’s a very strong chance I would never have become and officer. With my whole family, plus Elizabeth in attendance, Mom pinned the gold bars of a Marine Second Lieutenant on my shoulders. From there I was off to Quantico. Elizabeth still had two years left at Chapel Hill, and I promised I would visit as often as I could. 

“The Basic School” (TBS) occupies a large swath of land directly across I-95 from the main Marine Corps Base at Quantico. TBS is where green Lieutenants become officers capable of leading a platoon of Marines into combat. The school is an intense, 26-week program that provides professional education as well as tactical skills and experience in scenarios typical to battlefield environments where Marines operate around the world. Much of the training is outdoors, with long forced marches and weeks of field duty. Where OCS served as a wickedly efficient screening to ensure candidates were qualified and capable of being officers, the focus of TBS was to train lieutenants how to be an effective leader. It was still physically and academically demanding, but it wasn’t the meat grinder of physical and mental harassment that OCS had been. During TBS, most of the lieutenants lived on a long dormitory style hall. It wasn’t uncommon to be awakened during the night by someone yelling from a nightmare about OCS. Even decades later I still occasionally have one.  

One lasting remnant from OCS that became amplified at TBS was the complete neurosis over being late. If the Company Commander called for a 6 AM formation, his subordinate Platoon Commanders would dictate an arrival of 5:50 to ensure timeliness. Squad Leaders, fearful of missing the Platoon Commander’s deadline, would call for us to show up at 5:40. Fireteam leaders would demand a 5:30 arrival. Sometimes it was much worse, with Lieutenants arriving 45 minutes prior to a scheduled formation in a cascade of punctuality. It was laughable and sometimes frustrating as we stood in the cold while we could have been doing something else, but the emphasis on promptness without excuse was understandable. Marines were simply never late. Real-world missions were timed with precision. Other Marines would be depending on you and being late could cost lives. Trust was so important that once a time was set, months or even years could go by with no further communication. A Marine was expected to show up promptly as agreed with no reminder, preferably a few minutes early. It was a matter of keeping one’s word.

Weapons and tactics training in the field training were balanced with formal classroom instruction on topics ranging from land navigation to military law. We studied battles from the dawn of recorded history to the conflict in Vietnam. Each Lieutenant was issued a stack of books that would be read and examined during the course. The wisdom contained still earns many of them a place on my bookshelf today. Among my favorites were, “A Message to Garcia”, by Elbert Hubbard,  “On War” by Prussian General Karl Von Klauswitz, “The Art of War” by Sun Tzu.

The crown jewel on the list was the holy scripture of the Corps, the slim pocket booked designated as “Fleet Marine Force Manual 1 (FMFM1) “Warfighting”, by legendary Vietnam Veteran and current Marine Corps Commandant General Al Gray. Gray had served multiple tours in Vietnam, starting with the 3^rd Marine Division in 1965. Ten years later, he would be the commanding officer in charge of the final American evacuation from Saigon as the North Vietnamese stormed the country. In a vivid scene of desperation that was replayed on the nightly news, terrified Vietnamese embassy staff had clung to the final Marine helicopter to depart the embassy. When the NVA arrived, many of them were slaughtered. In a culture of courage and honor, General Gray was the consummate leader, a warrior king who had earned his way up from lowly private to the highest rank in the Corps. During his long career, he had earned the Silver Star, 2 instances of the Legion of Merit, 4 Bronze Stars, and was awarded 4 purple hearts for injuries sustained in combat. He was universally respected, and his impact and improvement to the defense of our nation is felt to this day.

We learned exactly how to correctly wear every uniform item and insignia with precision, using small transparent rulers to determine the exact placement according to the manual. We also placed orders for the signature historical weapon of Marine Officers, the Mameluke Sword. Swords had long ago given way to pistols, shotguns, and carbine rifles as the close fighting weapon of choice, but they remained an important reminder of the early days of the Corps and were worn for special occasions with the iconic Dress Blue uniform.

The Mameluke Sword’s association with Corps dated to the time of the First Barbary war. In 1805, President Thomas Jefferson had grown increasingly frustrated with pirate attacks against US ships operating off the coast of North Africa. Evidence indicated that many of the attacks originated in Tripoli, then a rebellious province of the sprawling Ottoman Empire. Americans had been captured and were being held as hostages by the local prince.  Jefferson personally travelled to London to negotiate with Tripoli’s ambassador for the release of American hostages and an end to the attacks. He asked the ambassador what grounds the Libyans had to attack the ships of a nation that had done them no injury. The response was simple and clear.

 It was written in their Koran, (that all nations which had not acknowledged the Prophet were sinners, whom it was the right and duty of the faithful to plunder and enslave; and that every mussulman (Muslim) who was slain in this warfare was sure to go to paradise. 

An ally had been found in the rightful heir to the province, Hamet Karamanli. Hamat’s brother Yusuf had forcefully removed Hamet from the throne, and Hamet had promised the Americans that he would help them in their fight against Yusef by providing men and material, and when he was reinstated, he would assist them in their struggle against piracy.

As part of the campaign against Tripoli, First Lieutenant Presley O’Bannon was directed to lead a force to capture the city of Derna in Libya. Accompanied by Hamet, O’Bannon’s expeditionary force was made up of eight Marines and several hundred mercenaries. They set out from my father’s birthplace of Alexandria, Egypt for Derna, which was on the route to the provincial capital of Tripoli. The force of warriors emerged from the North African desert after a 500-mile forced march, attacked the city’s defenders, and secured the city as ordered. For the first time in history, American troops had fought on foreign soil, and the American flag was raised above territory secured in battle. American hostages were returned, and a treaty was negotiated ending the war. As a token of his appreciation and respect, Prince Hamet presented O’Bannon with a distinctive sword. Marine Corps Commandant Archibald Henderson directed that the sword be worn by Marine Officers, and it became a permanent part of an officer’s wardrobe. The war was commemorated in the second line of the Marines Hymn.

 

From the Halls of Montezuma
To the shores of Tripoli;
We fight our country's battles
In the air, on land, and sea;
First to fight for right and freedom
And to keep our honor clean;
We are proud to claim the title
Of United States Marine.

 

In a disturbing footnote to the events, the US State Department’s lead emissary Tobias Lear, in negotiating an end to the war with Yusef, reneged on the deal with Hamet. Yusef was allowed to remain on the throne. (3)