After November 10, 1775, when the Continental Congress adopted a resolution creating two battalions* of Marines, it all started at Philadelphia's Tun Tavern, the designated recruitment center for the nation's newest military service. Robert Mullen, owner of the tavern and a captain in the fledgling Marine Corps, together with Samuel Nicholas, Maine Commandant, went to work to attract and sign up young recruits who, in the words of the Congressional Resolution, would be "...good seamen or so acquainted with maritime affairs as to be able to serve with advantage by sea when required; that they be enlisted and commissioned to serve for and during the present war between Great Britain and the colonies."
*A military unit that includes a headquarters and at least two or more companies or units.
The recruitment campaign was successful and the following February the first naval expedition sailed with 268 Marines to engage in naval expeditions. Once the war was over most of the Marines returned home but after both French and Barbary Coast pirates started attacking American commercial ships, Congress moved swiftly to establish a Marine Corps that would be an independent service but attached to the Navy. Major William Ward Burrows became commandant of the new corps with a mission that included serving at sea for amphibious (organized to invade or operate on both land and sea) purposes, to serve at forts and garrisons, and also carry out "any other duty on shore as the President, at his discretion shall direct."
Over the years this original mission has remained practically unchanged. However, today, although the Department of Defense includes the Departments of the Air Force, Army, and Navy, there are four distinct military services within the Department of Defense. The Marine Corps and the Naval Establishment comprise the Department of the Navy. The Marine Corps Commandant reports directly to the Secretary of the Navy and is also a member of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. Although the smallest of the four services, the Marines have a unique 'esprit de corp' and a commendable history.
A PROUD TRADITION
Following its reestablishment in 1798, Marines were serving under Commodore Stephen Decatur in the bombardment of Tripoli. Then a detachment of Marines marched 600 miles across the North African desert to capture the city of Derne and make history for the young nation. They pulled down Tripoli's flag and ran up the Stars and Stripes, the first time this flag had been raised over a fort in Europe or Africa. Marines were active in most of the engagements of the War of 1812 and again in the war with Mexico. This time they particularly distinguished themselves by capturing Vera Cruz and Mexico City. There they led the way to Mexico's national palace, the "halls of Montezuma." This served as the inspiration for the Marine's hymn, "From the Halls of Montezuma to the Shores of Tripoli." Subsequently the Marines have been active in all the conflicts in which the United States was engaged.
During the 1920s there was a rash of mail robberies in the United States. Marines were dispatched to watch over the U.S. Mail. A year before the country entered World War II, marines were serving in China, the Philippines, the Hawaiian Islands, Guam, the Panama Canal Zone, and at Guantanamo Bay, Cuba. Several thousand other marines were mounting guard at munition plants, ammunition depots, navy yards, and some 4,000 were on board navy ships. Although the Corps was involved in numerous invasions during World War II, it is best remembered for its role in the capture of Iwo Jima and the stirring picture of the three marines planting the American flag atop Mt. Suribachi.
On October 23, 1983, the Marine Corps experienced what was probably its greatest tragedy. Serving in Lebanon to help keep peace in that wartorn country, marines were living in their headquarters building in the city of Beirut. Early that morning a sentry guarding the building was unable to stop a terrorist who drove a truck past him into the yard. Within seconds the driver detonated some 12,000 pounds of explosives that immediately destroyed the high rise and killed 237 sleeping marines. Within a few months orders came to withdraw all marines from Beirut, and doubtless many of those leaving reflected on the fruitless and tragic cost of this mission-a mission like every other assignment that had to be carried out.
WHAT ARE MARINES?
The dictionary says that "marines are soldiers trained for service on land and sea."
The Marine Corps says that it is widely known as "a well-disciplined, no-nonsense organization."
The U.S. Government Manual in describing the Marine Corps says that its primary mission is to "provide fleet marine forces of combined arms, together with supporting air components, for service with the fleet in the seizure or defense of advanced naval bases and for the conduct of such land operations as may be essential to the prosecution of a naval campaign." The manual then describes the other marine responsibility: "to provide detachments and organizations for service on armed vessels of the navy and security detachments aboard naval stations, bases, and other governmental installations."
The average American would perhaps describe marines as tough and fearless soldiers who, when necessary, can be cold-blooded killers. Undoubtedly, everyone would agree that marines have a reputation for being among the best trained and disciplined members of the armed services.
Whatever your own feeling may be about the Marine Corps, the following letter that appeared in the New York Times on April 2, 1982, might give you a different idea of what it is to be a marine, especially on a dangerous assignment, such as Beirut, Lebanon. (Hopefully, this Marine was not among those killed by the terrorist in 1983) It was written by Jeremiah Mahoney, an ex-marine himself, and reports what he has heard from his son.
MY SON, THE MARINE* - by Jeremiah Mahoney
Carmel, N.Y. My son, a marine in Lebanon, has written home frequently since his departure on the U.S.S. Guadal-canal, from Morehead City, N.C., in late January. The Atlantic crossing on the Guadalcanal, a modest version of an aircraft carrier, was without incident in spite of several severe storms, which the massive, lumbering ship took in stride. He pays tribute to the skill and dedication of the men who man the ship and contrasts the ability of the Guadalcanal to weather high seas to that of the troop ships I was aboard during World War II in the Pacific.
His ship is the lead ship, one of several carrying marines and equipment to Lebanon; to the port and starboard, escort ships, destroyers, cruisers. He does not disguise his pride in this display of American defense forces, and it seems his enthusiasm for the Marine Corps has not diminished as he enters his third year of service.
The showers are warm, most of the time, and his allotted berthing area is far more spacious than he had anticipated. He and several fellow marines are able to carry forth their weightlifting program, a constant for marines who wish to maintain their post-office-poster image.
When the weather is fair, the winds stable, men from the marine helicopter squadron practice takeoffs and landings on the deck, a feat my son applauds. To take off and land an unpredictable machine on a rolling shifting deck is a small miracle.
While aboard he reads books. One day he learns thirty Arabic words, practical vernacular, from a marine who had spent his boyhood in Lebanon; another day, there is a class on "rules of engagement" in which the peace-keeping role of the battalion is stressed. If attacked, the response will be minimal: bullet for bullet, rocket for rocket. There are many questions, much discussion, but it is made clear, as the Commander in Chief has stated: marines will defend themselves. One cynic sums up the session by asking: Does the policy go for rocks, too?
On Feb. 24, my son's battalion, the 22nd Marine Amphibious Unit, lands in Beirut. He reports home that he is living in a tent on a marble terrace, part of a fire-gutted air terminal. I wonder how tents are anchored on marble. The building behind his is pockmarked with small-arms fire, but his tent is comfortable, adequate. I suspect he enjoys being in the field; he states there is a possibility he will make a career of "the green machine."
He goes on several reconnaissance missions, has escorted visiting United States dignitaries into the city. By day, it is a busy metropolis: although some sections have been reduced to rubble, other sections look like a set for a James Bond movie: fashionable bars and restaurants, high-powered cars, well-dressed strollers. The traffic convinces him that the New York traffic is comparable "to a stroll down a country lane." The narrow streets are barely wide enough for one vehicle. By night, the sky is violated by rocket and tracer fire.
He is aware of the beauty of the dark, wide-eyed women. I am happy that the long sea voyage and his marine discipline have not diminished his esthetic sensibility.
The Lebanese seem to respect the marines but are reserved in their dealings with them. Most of the Lebanese smile, nod, move on. But some seem to resent the American presence. My son states: "Understandable. Must be tough having an international police force in your home town." The children make the strongest and best impression; the children laugh constantly, crowd around the jeeps, and scream, "Hello, Americans!"
During the blizzard that struck central and northern Lebanon, the command is inundated with volunteers. The amphibious vehicles used in the rescue operations are loaded to capacity as they leave camp. My son is not certain about the motives of the volunteers: the charitable impulse, or a marine's desire to be where the action is? He hears of the blizzard that hits New York, advises his father to pace his shoveling, warns, "Even ex-marines can have heart attacks."
One day, the marines put on a weapons and equipment demonstration for British troops. Son says, British seem "well-squared away, disciplined." Talks to British troops about weapons, training, marine boot camp problems in England and America, rock music. Says it was a "good experience."
I am proud of my son. Proud that he has chosen to serve our nation. Proud of all the marines of Lebanon who are attempting to bring peace to that tragic nation. I believe all Americans should appreciate and remember what our servicemen and women contribute to the security of our nation. They deserve our respect and our support.
(Copyright 1983 by the New York Times Company. Reprinted by permission)
