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.

D+20

July 5, 1944

The advance was set to continue by 1200. Events of the previous day had disorganized the lines. The 23rd and 24th Marines were ordered to make any necessary adjustments through local attacks, and be ready for the jump off. The 23rd completed its maneuvering by 1155, by which point the attack had been officially delayed until 1300. Generally, the attack of July 5 would be regarded as a success. Much ground was gained, the schedule was, for the most part, adhered to, and casualties overall were quite light. But every move brought casualties, and on July 5, 1944, the 24th Marines would bleed.

These occasional days of rest we received had their obvious advantages, but there was the accompanying disadvantage of the never ceasing movement of the 4th Marine Division. Thus when we returned to replace someone on the line, the lines had moved well ahead, and it necessitated a hike, Marine divisions not being motorized.... We trudged along a circuitous route to relieve the 23d Marines for an attack scheduled for 1300.

A normal artillery preparation preceded it, followed by the morale-lifting rockets, but neither they nor mortar fire could eliminate many cave-dwelling Japs. And again the cost was heavy.

- Captain Frederic Stott, "Saipan Under Fire."


Company “A” was preparing to move forward again by annihilating the enemy. Phil was firing his mortars in preparation. Suddenly a group of wounded native civilians (Chamorras) came out of some caves forward of our lines. As always, Phil and Sgt. Ervin, his Section Sgt., asked if they could take a patrol forward and help the natives back to our lines. He soon returned with many wounded women and children. There were many more in the caves, which the Jap soldiers wouldn’t let surrender. Phil returned to the caves with his patrol.

- Captain Irving Schechter, letter to Margretta Wood


Using civilian men, women, and children as decoys, the Jap soldiers managed to entice a volunteer patrol forward into the open to collect additional civilian prisoners.

- Captain Frederic Stott, "Saipan Under Fire"


When Phil was about 30 yards away, the Japs opened fire. He was hit. Sgt. Ervin and a Corpsman ran over to him, and they were hit. First Sgt. [Arnold R.] Richardson tried to cover them with fire, and he was hit. All but two members of the patrol were casualties. Five died almost instantly. Phil, always first in combat, first in leadership, was also the first to die. Sgt. Ervin died alongside of him, as did First Sgt. Richardson.

- Captain Irving Schechter, letter to Margretta Wood


It was Sgt. Ervin who, when Phil lay fatally wounded in an exposed position, called out “Don’t worry, Phil, I’m coming for you!” And Ervin went down to be killed at Phil’s side by the same Jap gun.

- Captain Frederic Stott, letter to Margretta Wood


They dropped all twelve.

- George Smith


Before he died, Mrs. Wood, he said, “Say hello to my mother and Aunt for me.” I do wish that you would convey his last words to his Aunt.

- Captain Irving Schechter, letter to Margretta Wood

The much-loved Lt. Phil Wood died there, and beside him lay the body of his Sgt. Ervin, shot down making a vain attempt at rescue.

- Captain Frederic Stott, 1/24, "Saipan Under Fire"

The division combat efficiency was about 75 percent, with troops approaching physical exhaustion.

- 4th Marine Division Report



This final day of our third week was also the first on which we established a clear lead in the "race" for Marpi Point. By nightfall we had a gap of a quarter of a mile between ourselves and the Army units to our left rear. This lead we widened steadily until the island's northern tip was reached, while reserve units were thrown into the spreading gap.

The first nocturnal activity in ten days took place that night a couple of hours after sundown. but the fire projected by all our normal small arms, supplemented by 37mm guns which were now coming up on the line as a nightly routine, took a toll of the attackers while still hundreds of yards away, and disuaded any further attempts at large scale infiltration. As with all night actions, mortar illumination shells and those from the ships off shore proved invaluable. Fear and dislike of the dark is natural, but at any critical moment we possessed the the requisite illumination to turn night into day. It must have been a deterrent and harmful to Jap morale on the attack, when any concentrated movement brought a deluge of brilliant light and a storm of bullets. It certainly was heartening to us.

- Captain Frederic Stott, 1/24, "Saipan Under Fire"

ABLE COMPANY CASUALTIES, JULY 5, 1944Killed:
1st Lieutenant Philip Emerson "Eagle" Wood, Jr. New York, NY. Age 23. Gunshot wound, abdomen.
Technical Sergeant Arnold Ross Richardson. Salem, MA. Age 24. Gunshot wounds, chest.
Sergeant Arthur B. "Mumu" Ervin, Jr. McCurtain, OK. Age 22. Remains not recovered.
PFC Frank Roscoe Hester. Sallis, Mississippi. Age 19. Gunshot wound, back.
PFC Lawrence Elmer Knight. Parkin, AR. Age 21. Gunshot wound, head.
PFC Davis Vernon Kruse. Waterloo, IA. Age 25. Gunshot wound, head.

Wounded:
Platoon Sergeant Parker S. McBride (not evacuated)
Sergeant Maynard S. Worthington
PFC George D. Burch
PFC Robert L. Conway
PFC Lawrence Felix Pantlin
PFC John G. Rayley, Jr.
PFC Robert L. Williams (not evacuated)
PFC Douglas B. Footit
Private James C. Fields (not evacuated)

Sick:
Private Gustave J. Pappas

Total: 16

Sergeant Arthur B. Ervin

One simply did not mess with Arthur Ervin.

Arthur Ervin, Junior was born April 16, 1922, in the small town of McCurtain, Oklahoma. His father died when his namesake was only six months old, leaving Arthur Junior and his brother Harley in the care of their mother.

Ervin was something of an enigmatic oddity in Company A. He traveled to Detroit, Texas and joined the Marine Corps on June 4, 1940, barely 18 years old. After completing basic training at the Recruit Depot in San Diego, Private Ervin found himself stationed in the subtropical paradise of Pearl Harbor. He served with Company B at the Marine Barracks, Pearl Harbor Navy Yard, through the end of the year.

Post-war court documents indicate that Ervin was present at Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941. What role he might have played on the nation's most infamous day is unclear, but it seems to have cemented a burning resolve in the young man. Arthur Ervin's name appears on the muster rolls of the 2nd Raider Battalion, an "elite-within-the-elite" unit that appeared in early 1942 and was based on FDR's observations of British commando teams. Arthur Ervin served in Company C of this strictly volunteer, extremely tough and admittedly ruthless battalion. The same court documents point to service on Guadalcanal, which would almost certainly make him a veteran of Carlson's famous "Long March" - a 31-day fighting expedition behind enemy lines. The Raiders, completely cut off from outside reinforcements or supplies, harassed the Japanese army with a series of hit-and-run attacks that cost the Imperial Amy over 480 casualties, with the raiders losing just 16 dead.

Again, Ervin's record becomes blurry. After the Long Patrol (or possibly during it), he contracted elephantitis, a dramatic disease that apparently did little to curb his spirit. Indeed, while home on sick leave, he married Odena Gladys Good, whom he affectionately called "Neg."

With new developments in Marine Corps tactics, the Raider battalions were being phased out and reorganized. Ervin, returning from sick leave, somehow managed to end up in the 24th Marines, then training at Camp Pendleton, California. The 24th would benefit greatly from Ervin's combat experience, though his first mention by his platoon leader was somewhat less than complimentary:

And there won’t be enough furloughs to go around to let all the men get home again before we shove off – one squad leader has an incurable Samoan disease, a section leader is having his tonsils out, one man has chronic appendicitis, and another has bad flat feet and can’t march, another has a trick knee that was ruined on maneuvers.

- Phil Wood, letter dated November 2, 1943

[The "incurable Samoan disease" was Ervin's elephantitis - which lead to the nickname "Moo Moo," after the native term for the ailment - mumu.]

The next mention of Ervin, and indeed all further evidence, shows the true story of an exceptionally brave and selfless man.

Corporal Ervin – my ex-machine gun squad leader – up for the Navy Cross – is back from the hospital, and I nabbed him for my mortar section leader. A Hell of a good man – we work well together. And he’s squaring the section away in fine shape.

- Phil Wood letter, dated 31 March 1944

What had happened in the interval? The battle for Namur.

Corporal Ervin began to make a name for himself even before stepping off the assault boats in the early afternoon of February 1, 1944.

[P]rior to going to our boat stations we loaded up with a mouth full [of chewing tobacco]. You will understand why I told you this a little later. And as I had stated previously in combat each gun squad was assigned to a rifle platoon, my squad, along with Ervin, went in with the 1st platoon and without Phil. On the way in we passed off the starboard quarter of the new USS Washington just as she fired a full broadside. The wave she created hit us broadside and almost turned us over. Not only did we get wet, but some of us got a mouth full of water and of course the tobacco as well. For some unknown reason I decided to go with gum instead of the tobacco, Ervin stayed with the tobacco. As Phil stated, during the landing there was a tremendous explosion. But our boat was on the beach and the ramp going down when it went off. Beside being hit with concrete and steel from above a dense cloud of dust, cordite and body parts filled the boat. As I was to realize later I must have swallowed my gum at this time, Ervin did not. Some time later as we were moving up going from hole to hole for cover, Ervin being the Warrior he was decided to go straight up the road. In doing so he passed a hole with a live Jap and the Jap squeezed one off just as Ervin was even with him and the bullet traveled up his left side from his hip to his ear, not breaking the skin but leaving a burn mark here and there. Of course he killed the Jap but even as we ran to him and it was apparent he wasn't hurt hardly at all he just stood there, frozen, with this weird look on his face. Now this was one brave cat we are talking about, but there we stood in the middle of the road, four of us trying to figure out what the hell is wrong with him. Perhaps you guessed, he had swallowed his tobacco and was getting ready to throw up. And it was just about then that I discovered I didn't have gum in my mouth and realized I must have swallowed it when the block house blew.

- George Smith, personal recollection

As the other platoons of A Company landed and began their advance up the coast of the island, Ervin was a conspicuous figure.

I noticed Corporal Ervin – then my machine gun squad leader – now my mortar section leader, up ahead, waving us on. As long as he was in the action, he stayed at least 50 yards ahead of anybody else in the Company – I took a couple of the others and went up to help him. He had stumbled on a dugout containing 6 or 7 Japs, had fired at them standing on the edge – then thrown a grenade or two and come back for more....

Over our heads all Hell broke loose. My machine guns behind me started a duel with those in the blockhouse – pound after pound of lead went over, then a Jap knee mortar started pounding away, probing for our trench, but luckily never got it. During a lull in the fire fighting my runner crawled up to me, and Cpl. Ervin slipped out of the trench and went forward again. He came on a Jap machine gun nest beside the blockhouse, killed two of the men manning it, but was driven off when an officer knocked off his helmet with a round from his pistol. Ervin’s face was sprayed with bits of lead – he backed off, came back, and told us the situation – what was up there – where they were – I hopped out and went back to assign the target to my mortars – when I got there I found that a couple of the men had been wounded by the Jap knee mortars – but by the time we had set up, the forward elements of the company had moved up too close to the position to let us fire safely....

- Phil Wood letter, dated 2 April 1944

What happened next would be described in the terse wording of a Navy Cross citation.

Citation:
The President of the United States takes pleasure in presenting the Navy Cross to Arthur B. Ervin (285038), Corporal, U.S. Marine Corps, for extraordinary heroism and devotion to duty while serving with Company A, First Battalion, Twenty- Fourth Marines, FOURTH Marine Division, in action against enemy Japanese forces during the invasion of Namur Island, Kwajalein Atoll, on 1 February 1944. Advancing with his company around the eastern perimeter of the Island, corporal Ervin skillfully located and led the attack upon each hostile strong point in this zone of action. Although wounded in a single-handed assault upon an enemy heavy machine-gun nest, he returned to initiate a raid into an occupied blockhouse and, after climbing to a dangerously exposed position on its top, immediately poured rifle fire into a near-by Japanese trench fortification and exhorted his comrades to press home their attack. When painfully wounded for the second time, he gallantly refused to let anyone endanger himself by coming forward to help and, after pulling himself to safety and having his wounds dressed, retired only on the orders of his Commanding Officer. His determined fighting spirit and inspiring performance of duty throughout these bitter engagements reflect the highest credit upon Corporal Ervin and the United States Naval Service.

From his vantage point nearby, Phil Wood described the scene:

We used bazookas on the blockhouse, and finally it was silenced; [1st Lt.] Harry [Reynolds], then Cpl. Ervin ran across the open and threw hand grenades into the firing ports – I picked up Ervin’s helmet to toss it to him, but it was knocked out of my hand by a sniper’s bullet. Ervin hopped up on top of the blockhouse, and stood there silhouetted against the sky – legs spread apart, hatless, with blood on his face and his coat flung open, firing his rifle from the hip into the dugout that lay in front of Sgt. [Frank A.] Tucker and myself – he killed some, but fire kept coming at him from the dugout, so he jumped down, ran to it, and was hit just as he got in front of me. Harry and I yelled to him – he said he didn’t want any help, and pulled himself out with his right arm – he was hit in the side – and Harry had to order him back to the hospital. Ervin claimed that he could still throw grenades with his one arm.

- Phil Wood letter, dated 2 April 1944

Corporal Ervin returned to Pearl Harbor, this time in the care of Naval medical personnel. His wound was serious, though luckily did not prove life-threatening. By mid April, he was back where he wanted to be - with his fellow Marines.

In a stirring ceremony in late April, 1944, Corporal Ervin was awarded the Navy Cross by none other than Admiral Nimitz.

Ervin told me after it was over that he almost burst into tears when they told him he was getting the Navy Cross – he meant it, and for a tough, hard-bitten little guy like that to feel that way.

- Phil Wood letter, dated 28 April 1944

Phil Wood was not the only one writing home:

April 29 1944
Hello Bud
I'm sorrow that I have not written to you long before this - Received your letter last nite (somewhat delayed) So will ans. right back. How are things going with you these days - Kay, holding you down - me - I couldn't be better as you probably know by this time I'm back to duty with my old company, certainly glad to get back with the guys again my side is O.K. now and I can do allmost everything I did before, It never bothers me in the least, Guess you know that it was close, Lavada wrote me a letter just before she went to Seattle, and I'm looking for the Chief out this way any day now, By just reading your letter over I can't tell wheather or not you like the idea of waiting so long, you got a break in a way, I got a letter from Mom every 4 or 5 days Speaking of Mother Bud I did change my insurance if anyone gets it Mom will get it all, I didn't change it because of what you said in your letter, I had allready for a couple reasons of my own, one I don't want 'Neg' ever to feel obligated to me, but I know that neither you or Kay would and never did lie to me So I want to ask you something but before I ask you I want to tell you how I feel about 'Neg.' Bud she is the only one for me but things are all the way oka not at all, know what I mean? Write me and tell me if things are not that way. I don't want to plan on something and things go haywire, Let me know, Bud I have some good news for you, Do you know what the "Navy Cross" is? I was awarded the "Navy Cross" by Admiral Nimitz last Wed. I am dam proud of it and Sending it home to Mother Wish you could have been here Bud to see me get it Wonder what H.L. will think? Kay I'll send you that hula skirt this time if I can find a good one, Gotta close now will be waiting for your ans. Love to you both
Your brother
Cpl. Arthur B. Ervin

Shortly thereafter, Arthur Ervin was promoted to Sergeant. A man named Henderson was bumped up to Corporal, possibly to take the vacant squad leader position, but either way, a celebration was in order.

Ervin made Sergeant last week, and Henderson, one of my Squad leaders, made Corporal at the same time – they had been waiting for it for a long time, so I gave the Section a beer party to celebrate. Rounded up ten cases of it – hard to get, as they are limited to two bottles a night at the slop chute – even had to steal two of the cases – got grills and hamburgers to cook out there – had it all taken out to a little spot in the boondocks – ice, cigars, pogie-bait and fruit – then broke them out in marching formation at 4 PM. They didn’t know anything about it, and grumbled about it, thinking they were going on a special working party – when we got there and they saw the spread, a great shout went up, and they fell on the food and beer. It was a great success, since everyone got potted – we even had to carry two of them home when it broke up about midnight. We talked and chatted and sang old songs around the fire – and one Squad put on an impromptu floor show, which, as I remember it, was very funny.

- Phil Wood letter, May 6 1944.

Sergeant Ervin, now Section Sergeant of the weapons platoon, grew closer to Lt. Wood, and the two of them worked astonishingly well together. After the F-series reorganization, Ervin apparently followed Phil and the mortar section to the company headquarters.

The two fought side by side on Saipan until July 5, 1944, when they volunteered to lead a patrol to rescue civilians caught between the lines.

Ervin was pretty much an individualist, not given to affection, and on first impression, not a top notch NCO. But the mutual admiration and respect which grew between the two was obvious, and they were a strongly attached pair who worked together as well as any and better than most. It was Sgt. Ervin who, when Phil lay fatally wounded in an exposed position, called out “Don’t worry, Phil, I’m coming for you!” And Ervin went down to be killed at Phil’s side by the same Jap gun.

- Lt. Frederic Stott, in a letter to Anna Margretta Wood, October 7, 1944.

The remains of Sergeant Arthur Ervin, Navy Cross, Bronze Star, and Purple Heart with Gold Star, were never recovered. Despite Captain Schechter's assurances that Ervin had been buried in the 4th Marine Division cemetery, official burial documents indicate differently; the stark sentence "Disposition: Unrecoverable" is sadly confirmed by his placement on the Tablets of the Missing at the Punchbowl Cemetery in Hawaii.

George Smith concluded his memory of Corporal Ervin's experience with the tobacco with a touching moment:

When we talked about this later, and never ever when somebody else was around, Ervin would actually laugh out loud and that would be the only time. In all the time we were together I never knew him to hardly smile, let alone laugh.

Organization

Continuing our trend of general information entries (can one previous entry be considered a "trend?" Perhaps not, but regardless...), today will feature a discussion on the organization of a Marine Corps unit, from the Divisional level on down.

The Division

Of course, our case study will be the 4th Marine Division. Much of this information is coming from Mark Flowers' excellent site, World War Two Gyrene.

The basic Divisional structure of the Marine Corps has remained the same from its inception in March, 1941. Prior to this, the Marines had been organized into units the size of brigades or smaller, but as the 1920s progressed and the lessons of the First World War were digested (and projected over the Pacific with a cautious eye on Japan), it was decided that the brigade level was simply too small a unit to conduct independent operations. The Fleet Marine Force, created in 1933 by Secretary of the Navy Claude Swanson, provided the building blocks for the 1st and 2nd Marine Divisions. Under this new structure, two new brigades were created; one posted to the East Coast and one to the West.

Each Division was composed of three infantry regiments, with one artillery regiment and one tank battalion providing fire support. Further components included headquarters, motor transport, service, pioneer, and medical units, which ensured that each Division was fully capable of operating as a separate entity.

(A quick note on medical support: during World War 2, the USMC did not have its own medical branch. The wounded Marine counted on the aid of a Navy Corpsman who would be attached to his unit, which is why Ryan Philippe's character in "Flags Of Our Fathers" wears Navy dress whites instead of a Marine uniform. On the battlefield, any exchange of fire would usually be followed by cries for "Sailor!" as Japanese soldiers were fond of calling "Corpsman!" in an attempt to lure a luckless American into exposing himself.)

As the Marines gained experience in 1942 and 1943, the divisional structure changed. When the 4th Marine Division was activated on 16th August, 1943, they became part of the third structure, T/O E-100.

(Complete organizational table USMC Operations in WWII, Vol. 2: Isolation of Rabaul)

The 4th Marine Division was composed of the following elements:

23rd Marines (Infantry)
24th Marines (Infantry)
25th Marines (Infantry)

14th Marines (Artillery)

20th Marines (Engineers - from June 1943 to August 1944)

Headquarters Battalion
4th Tank Battalion
4th Engineer Battalion
4th Pioneer Battalion
4th Service Battalion
4th Medical Battalion
4th Motor Transport Battalion

In May, 1944, as the Division rested after the campaign for the Marshall Islands, they were again reorganized and expanded, this time into the F-100 series.

(Complete organizational table USMC Operations in WWII, Vol. 4: Western Pacific Operations)

The 4th Marine Division remained in this configuration through Saipan, Tinian, and Iwo Jima. Other Marine divisions would be reorganized into a further G-series, but fortunately the 4th was out of combat by that time.

Happy Marines aboard CVE Attu, bound for the States at last.

The 4th Marine Division was under the command of Major General Harry Schmidt.


The Regiment
The 24th Marines, as a typical Marine Infantry regiment, was composed of three separate Battalions and Headquarters staff. Their commanding officer was Colonel Franklin A. "Rusty" Hart, until his promotion to Brigadier General (thus becoming the Assistant Division Commander).

Colonel Hart was succeeded by Colonel Walter Jordan, who commanded the regiment at Iwo Jima.

The Battalion
A Marine Corps Battalion was composed of three rifle companies, one Weapons company, and a Headquarters/Staff section. It fell under the command of Lieutenant Colonel. First Battalion, 24th Marines went through several commanders during the War.

- Lt. Colonel Aquilla "Red" Dyess, the Medal of Honor recipient noted below, was killed February 2, 1944.

- Lt. Colonel Maynard "Heinie" Schultz died of wounds received on June 15, 1944 as the Battalion landed on Saipan. Captain Schechter of A Company recalled:

Sometime that first afternoon I received word that we had once again lost a battalion commander. His name was Lieutenant Colonel Nayard Schultz [sic], but we called him Heinie. He was a big guy, from Detroit, I believe. He took a piece of shrapnel in his head. It was a small sliver so it had to hit him in just the right spot to kill him.

Captain Irving Schechter, 1982, quoted in Henry Berry's "Semper Fi, Mac."

- Major Robert Fricke, the Battalion Executive Officer, served as Battalion Commander for a brief two days (June 16-18).

- Lt. Colonel Austin Brunelli, the Regimental Executive Officer, replaced Fricke (reason unknown) and served until July 4, 1944, when he ceded command and returned to his position as XO.

- Lt. Colonel Otto Lessing, previously commanding 3rd Battalion, moved to 1st Battalion on July 4. Lessing was a Marine's officer, and had the safety and best interests of his men at heart, as he demonstrated at his own expense on Tinian. Again, Captain Schechter's account:

Lessing was not only a top officer but he also had an interesting background.

His parents had separated when he was a kid. His mother was an American and his father was a German and an ardent Nazi. As a matter of fact, the senior Lessing was one of Hitler's top censors in Berlin. Maybe this was why Otto tried to be such an outstanding Marine.

At any rate, we had been on the go for seven days, always facing some resistance. We hadn't had any food other than our regular combat rations. I should also point out that we had run into some heavy rain. In short, things were pretty miserable.

Then I received a call from headquarters. I don't want to mention any names, but it was from a pretty high source who claimed he was interested in finding out how my men were.

"Just about done," I told him. "Perhaps it's time to pull them out."

"Oh, we're all shot," he answered. "Why, I have a slight touch of dysentery myself."

Oh, my God, I thought, he's back there on the beach with hot rations, coffee, the whole works and he has a slight case of the runs. Tough.

"Schechter," the ranking officer continued, "I have a bet with someone over in the 2nd Division that we will take Tinian before they do."

Now I was thunderstruck. How the hell could anyone make a bet like that, playing with other people's lives? But our orders were to keep going and we did.

I won't go into details, but a little later I received orders to go into an area that meant certain disaster. I complained to Colonel Lessing, who sympathized with me, and even tried to get a hold put on the orders but was unsuccessful.

I started to execute these orders, but the first three Marines in line were immediately killed. That was enough for me. I had the three bodies put in ponchos and sent word back that I just didn't have the clout to go any further.

Shortly after this Colonel Lessing showed up. He spotted the ponchos.

"Buck," he said, "what's this?"

"Colonel," I answered, "that's the bodies of the first three men who tried to move into the area I told you about. We just don't have to end up putting what's left of my company into ponchos because someone back on the beach is a nut."

So Colonel Lessing picked up the phone and called back to the beach. He was obviously asked how things were going where we were.

"Not so good," he said. "I'm staring at three Marines who are covered with ponchos because of that stupid order I tried to get changed. I hate waste."

That was it. In the movies Colonel Lessing would be a big hero, as he was to me, but in the real world he was relieved of his command. I don't know if he's still alive, but if he is, I'd like him to know I salute him.

Anyway, things like that happened.

Captain Irving Schechter, 1982, quoted in Henry Berry's "Semper Fi, Mac."

- Major Paul Treitel succeeded Lessing. He was a career Marine and had held a commission before the War. Irving Schechter, by now a Major and the battalion's Operations Officer, remembered Treitel as well:

The battalion's commander was an Annapolis graduate named Major Paul Treitel. He was a career man and naturally resented the fact that he hadn't been made lieutenant colonel, the rank his job called for. Regular officers were always more concerned about their rank than reserve officers. After all, they meant to wear the green uniforms when the rest of us became civilians.

As the horrific casualties on Iwo Jima chewed the regiment to pieces, Major Schechter went back to combat command (of his old Company A, though losses reduced the battalion to two ragged companies instead of the usual four). That was not the only change in command structure on March 8, 1945:

It was then that Lieutenant Colonel Brunelli took over command of our battalion; he had been the regiment's executive officer. I can't remember if Paul Treitel was wounded or just used up. Treitel had been in command for sixteen days and very few battalion commanders lasted through the whole campaign.

Captain Irving Schechter, 1982, quoted in Henry Berry's "Semper Fi, Mac."

- Lt. Colonel Austin Brunelli would win the Navy Cross for his actions as Battalion C/O. He had been recently wounded, and just returned to active duty when he assumed command of the battalion. Brunelli saw out the war with 1st Battalion, and went on to become a Brigadier General.

The Company
Company A was one of twelve in the Regiment, and one of four in 1st Battalion. Companies were named Able, Baker, Charlie, Dog, Fox, Easy, Golf, How, Item, King, Love, and Mike. (I've never seen reference to "Jig" company, and believe this to be a carryover from the days when orders were handwritten - American Civil War regiments, for example, never had a "Company J" due to possible confusion with "Company I"). Each Company was commanded by a Captain.

Company A was commanded by Captain Irving Schechter until his promotion to Major and his reassignment to battalion staff. His successor, "a graduate of the Citadel" lasted only a few days on Iwo Jima. Major Schechter resumed command of his mauled Company on March 8, and remained with them for the remainder of the battle.

Rifle companies were composed of three Rifle Platoons and one Weapons Platoon; the Weapons Company would feature detachments of heavy weapons (the 81mm mortar, 37mm anti-tank gun, .50 cal M2 machine gun, etc).

The Platoon
Each Platoon was commanded by a Lieutenant; each contained a series of Squads. At the Platoon level, the reorganization of the E-series (remember that?) was most noticeable.

We have a new organization – I have six squads now instead of four, and three mortars and three machine guns, and forty men instead of 28.

Phil Wood letter, February 1943 (New River, NC)

In company formation we were the fourth platoon, the other three being rifle platoons, all with a Lieutenant as a Platoon Leader. Phil was our Platoon Leader, in fact he was the only one we ever had until he was killed. Prior to coming west we had four squads, three with two machines guns each and a mortar squad of two tubes. While at Pendleton they change [sic] the organization and gave us six squads, we added a gun squad with two more guns and a mortar squad with two additional tubes. Unlike the rifle platoons who worked as a unit, weapons were broken down with a gun squad assigned to each rifle platoon, this was each rifle platoon had it's own automatic weapons in a firefight right there rather than having to call them up. The extra two guns stayed with the Lt. and the tubes at the command center. No matter how we were deployed, Phil was our Lieutenant.

George Smith, personal recollection.

There have been many changes made in our outfit – most of them caused, not by casualties, but by Col. Hart’s belief that we have been too long in our present jobs, and need a change – new faces. Also the fact that Headquarters Washington has changed the organizational setup of a company. What used to be a separate heavy weapons company – heavy machine guns – is now a part of our rifle company – to that new platoon is added my section (3 squads) of light machine guns. And my mortar section has been slightly increased – my command now consists of the mortars, and Company Headquarters personnel. Which suits me fine.

Phil Wood letter, March 3, 1944 (Maui)

Apparently, the notion of a dedicated Weapons Platoon was abandoned after the F-1 reorganization; machine gun and mortar crews were split and became separate entities. Machine guns would be under the command of another Lieutenant, while mortars joined Company HQ.

The Squad
The basic tactical unit of the Marine Corps, the squad consisted of a tightly knit group of warriors. The riflemen of A Company would have trained with the D-1 structure, which called for a 13 man unit, commanded by a Sergeant and assisted by a Corporal. The unrated Marines consisted of two scouts, one rifle grenadier, six riflemen, and one automatic rifleman. However, as combat experience made the need for more firepower all the more evident, the squad was restructured. The E-1 squad consisted of 12 Marines; while they lost a man they gained a second automatic rifle. Riflemen in A Company would have followed this configuration while in combat in the Marshall Islands.

Additional command problems led to the F-1 squad, which proved so effective that it is still in use today.


Official USMC Photo, linked from WW2 Gyrene.
A sergeant leads the squad, equipped with the M1 Rifle. Below him are three corporals, each commanding a fire team of three non-rated Marines. The corporals and two of the three Marines would be armed with the M1; one man per fire team would be allocated a BAR.

Squads could also be augmented at the decision of the company commander to include bazookas, flamethrowers, or demolition teams; often the Marines selected to carry the specialized equipment toted it in addition to their own.

Weapon squads differed as their particular armament required specific crews. For machine guns, A Company would have gone into the Marshalls with three light machine guns (the Browning M1919A4); each was led by a corporal and consisted of a gunner, assistant gunner, and three ammunition carriers. As in the rifle squads, the overall command of the section is the responsibility of a sergeant.


Official USMC Photo, linked from WW2 Gyrene.
When the F-1 modifications rolled around, the number of machine gun squads was doubled, an additional two ammo carriers were added per squad, and the machine guns themselves were split off into a separate platoon, commanded by a Lieutenant.

The 60mm M2 mortar, the other main component of the Marine light weapons platoon, underwent a similar change. The E-1 variant of the squad called for three squads, each led by a corporal, and consisting of two gunners and two ammunition bearers. As with the MGs, a sergeant lead the mortar section.


Official USMC Photo, linked from WW2 Gyrene.
With F-1 changes in effect, the mortar section fell under direct command of a Lieutenant (in A Company's case, this was Phil Wood). Each squad received an additional Marine, bringing the section total to 20 Marines.

Squads were often designated as "First, Second, Third" but were colloquially known by the squad leader's name (IE: one would be in "Quinn's Squad" of X Platoon, Company A, 1st Battalion, 24th Marines, 4th Marine Division).


Below the squad level, individual fire teams and gun crews composed the smallest effective fighting units.

Coming soon: weapons.