More Stories From George

I met George and Doris for lunch yesterday at the Playwright's Tavern. Of course, within ten minutes George was rattling off stories and I was listening intently. I always wish I could recapture the way George tells his stories verbatim, or the mischievous glint in his eye when he recalls a particularly adventurous exploit.

At any rate, here are a few more tales of Able Company.

Linkins and Shorty
Bill Linkins and Elijah Nichol were squad mates - possibly a BAR team - and best friends. Linkins was a strapping young man standing over six feet tall, while "Shorty" Nichol barely made the minimum height requirement (which today is 5'4"). The two would land together, and when a Navy crew operated the landing craft, the Marines would inevitably be dropped in deeper water. On more than one occasion, Linkins would land in water that was chest deep - while Shorty, immediately behind him, would simply disappear, only the very top of his helmet above the water.


Bill Linkins Elijah Nichol, Jr.
KIA Tinian Died 1992



Franey's Nemesis
One of the first steps for any boot passing through Parris Island is a haircut and medical examination, and the administration of shots. Each potential Marine stripped to the waist, was poked and prodded, and had a number painted on their chest with Mercurochrome. They were moved along to a specially designed chair, where they would sit with both arms outstretched and receive two simultaneous injections, one in each arm. George had just been painted and inoculated when there was a minor commotion behind him. JJ Franey, the next boot in line, had bravely sat down in the chair for his shots, and then fainted dead away, collapsing on the floor in a heap. He was propped back in the chair, shots were administered, and the other boots dragged him along to the next ritual of indoctrination, where he quickly recovered. From then on, whenever the platoon was required to get shots, Franey would repeat the performance, always recovering shortly after.


Weapons Platoon Justice
A certain San Diego hotel, one of the favored places for liberty excursions, happened to come under new management late in 1943. The boys in the weapons platoon, being energetic and seeingly all possessed of a devil-may-care attitude, did not endear themselves to the new manager, and after some forgotten episode, one of their number was kicked out and banned from returning. It was felt that this was unfair, that he had been made an example of, and the Marines returned to Pendleton with a bone to pick.

The man was sitting in the barracks bemoaning his luck when someone - George tactfully declined to name names - cooked up a plan to get even. Several of the men had recently taken additional training in demolitions, and some blocks of TNT that had "gone missing" from the training area appeared in the barracks. They now had a golden opportunity to teach their enemy a lesson while applying their training.

On their next liberty, the weapons boys returned to the scene of their defeat. The chosen team sequestered themselves in the bathroom. They first stopped up the toilet with wads of paper, then affixed an eighth of a stick of TNT to the commode, rigging it to explode when the flush chain was pulled. They exited, smirking, found the manager, and complained of a blocked toilet in the men's room. As the manager went to investigate, the entire party exited the hotel posthaste.

The resulting blast was later discovered to have blown the manager clear out the door of the bathroom, which terrified but did not injure him. The platoon was vindicated, the wrong avenged, and a lesson taught - don't mess with the Marines, especially if they have just come back from learning how to blow things up. As George concluded: "We weren't smart in Weapons, but boy we were loyal."


Feuding Corporals
Arthur Ervin was not a man to cross; he joined the 24th in September 1943, in his third year of active duty. He had been stationed at Pearl Harbor, volunteered for the 2nd Marine Raider Battalion (Carlson's Raiders) who were known for their leader's preference for guerilla tactics modeled after the Chinese army. [The famous phrase "Gung Ho" originated with the 2nd Raiders - Carlson picked it up in China; the phrase roughly means "Pull Together."] As a Raider, Ervin was deployed to the defenses of Midway in 1942, and later participated in the Long March on Guadalcanal, where his battalion - totally isolated behind Japanese lines - fought at Asamama, the Lunga River, and Mt. Austen, surviving on minimal rations of rice, bacon, and tea - many of which they took from captured Japanese stores. Ervin had even contracted elephantitis somewhere along the line (he was known as Mumu, after the Samoan term for the disease) and was still on active duty. He was known for being intensely private, close-lipped, and gave off an air of danger, being one of the few combat veterans in the then-young company. Ervin rarely showed any emotion at all; he was recalled as being almost disturbingly cold and to see him smile or express much positive emotion was a notable occasion. He appeared to be a born killer, though one surviving letter home suggests a very strong love for his family, his new wife, and his new comrades - though such was his reticence to grow close to them that it wasn't until 2008 that George Smith realized that Ervin had been married at all.

Kenneth Gann, by contrast, had been with the company for months when Ervin transferred in. Originally assigned to duty as a quartermaster, Gann either requested reassignment or was recommended for other duty - regardless, he was made Line Corporal in mid-September, 1943, and was became the leader of a machine gun squad in the Weapons platoon. He was evidently a capable leader, and pictures show him on liberty smiling with some friends.

Gann and Ervin evidently became fairly close in September, but somewhere along the line, something went very wrong. The cause of the feud was never clear to the enlisted men in the section, but suddenly the two corporals were at each other's throats. Ervin is referred to as a squad leader in the machine gun section as well, so it is possible that there was some question as to seniority, though George suspects that the true cause was more personal. Regardless, the two hated each other with sufficient passion to be remembered sixty years later.

The disagreement lasted for months. Both men were promoted to sergeant after the battle of Namur; each eventually became a section leader (Gann stayed with the guns, Ervin went to the tubes). Ervin was killed on Saipan, but Gann continued leading through Iwo Jima, and may have ended up as a platoon sergeant.


Arthur B. Ervin, Jr. Kenneth S. Gann
both corporals in 1943, while they were still getting on.

Never Had A Chance
Company A, and particuarly the weapons platoon, had a terrible day on June 22, 1944. They were posted on the slopes of Hill 700 on Saipan, isolated, and cut to pieces.

Corporal Norman Reber, age 21, of Pine Grove, PA - machine gunner - was the first to be hit. “Reber got hit right off the bat, up on that hill." remembered George, who was also wounded that day. "He never had a chance.”

Reber's casualty card states that he died of "multiple wounds, head and neck."

Norman Reber, 1943.

Dangers of Gambling
George didn't make a habit of gambling while in the Corps, but some of his friends did. Among these was Thomas McCay, a "real Jersey kid" who specialized in demolitions. While en route to Saipan, McCay decided to try his luck in a craps game and asked George if he had any money. Figuring he wouldn't need any cash on Saipan, George handed over what he had. McCay proceed to throw three consecutive fives ("or nines, I can't remember," said George, "but they're both real hard to hit in craps.") in one of the greatest examples of daring and luck that many present had ever seen. It seemed a little too convenient to a participating sailor, who had just lost some money, and he accused the Marines of using loaded dice. "We were lucky not to get thrown into the sea!" George laughed. After dividing their winnings, the two found that they had a substantial amount of loose change left over. McCay immediately tossed his pile overboard. George, forgetting his rationale of a few minutes before, looked at McCay and asked "why did you DO that?" McCay shrugged and said that they wouldn't need coins, anyway - so George followed suit. The Marines stashed the bills they had won.

Persisting Memories
George still remembers his last vision of Thomas McCay. The company was spending their second night on Saipan, endured a terrific shellacking by enemy artillery, and had lost four killed and 25 wounded. Despite all this terror, George remembers seeing McCay coming back from "blowing something up" in Japanese territory with a buddy; swaggering back into the lines in fine spirits, just like the "typical Jersey guy" that he was.

Two days later, Thomas McCay was shot in the chest while trying to rescue a wounded friend.

Thomas McCay, 1943.