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March 11, 2004
Return of the Marines. All-American warriors in Iraq. By W. Thomas Smith Jr.
Beginning this month, leathernecks from the 1st Marine Expeditionary Force will return to Iraq, replacing elements of the Army's
82nd Airborne Division. The return of the Marines is surely bad news for those desperate to undermine the liberation of Iraq.
Not to take anything away from the U.S. Army its soldiers have performed magnificently, and will no doubt continue to do
so but America's enemies have a particular fear of U.S. Marines.
During the first Gulf War in 1991, over 100,000 Iraqi soldiers were deployed along the Iraqi-Kuwaiti coastline in anticipation of a
landing by some 17,000 U.S. Marines. Terrified by what they had been taught about the combat prowess of Marines, the Iraqi
soldiers had nicknamed them "Angels of Death. " The moniker first published by Pulitzer-winner Rick Atkinson in his
best-selling Crusade carried over into the second Gulf war, last year, as the 1st Marine Division swept across the Iraqi plains.
Attacking American forces were unsettling enough, but reports of the sea borne "Angels of Death" being among the lead
elements were paralyzing to many Iraqi combatants. Despite less armor than other American ground forces, the Marines were
among the first to fight their way into Baghdad. And when intelligence indicated that foreign troops were coming to the aid of
Iraqi diehards, Marine Brig. Gen. John Kelly stated, "we want all Jihad fighters to come here. That way we can kill them all before
they get bus tickets to New York City."
Typical Marine bravado, some say. But it works. Best-selling author Tom Clancy once wrote, "Marines are mystical. They have
magic. " It is this same magic, Clancy added, that "may well frighten potential opponents more than the actual violence Marines
can generate in combat." Fear of Marines is not a new phenomenon, nor is it unique to Iraqi soldiers.
Established in 1775, the U.S. Marine Corps came of age in World War I during the 1918 Chateau Thierry campaign near the
French village of Bouresches. There, Marines assaulted a line of German machine-gun nests on an old hunting preserve known
as Belleau Wood. The fighting was terrible. Those Marines who weren't cut down by the enemy guns captured the nests in a
grisly close-quarters slugfest. The shocked Germans nicknamed their foes, teufelhunden (devil dogs). "Marines are considered
a sort of elite Corps designed to go into action outside the United States," read a German intelligence report following the battle.
"They consider their membership in the Marine Corps to be something of an honor. They proudly resent any attempts to place
their regiments on a par with other infantry regiments."
Twenty-four years later as the 1st Marine Division was steaming toward Guadalcanal, a Japanese radio propagandist taunted
that which the Japanese soldiers feared most. "Where are the famous United States Marines hiding?" the announcer asked.
"The Marines are supposed to be the finest soldiers in the world, but no one has seen them yet?"
Over the next three years, Marines would further their reputation at places with names like Tarawa, Saipan, and Iwo Jima. That
reputation carried over into the Korean War. "Panic sweeps my men when they are facing the American Marines," confessed a
captured North Korean major. It was a fear echoed by his Chinese allies. In late 1950, Chinese premier Mao Tse Tung put out a
contract on the 1st Marine Division. The Marine division, according to Mao in written orders to the commander of the Chinese
9th Army Group, "has the highest combat effectiveness in the American armed forces. It seems not enough for our four
divisions to surround and annihilate its two regiments. You should have one or two more divisions as a reserve force." Though
costly for both sides, the subsequent Chinese trap failed to destroy the 1st Marine Division. U.S. Army Maj. Gen. Frank Lowe
later admitted, "The safest place in Korea was right behind a platoon of Marines. Lord, how they could fight!"
Over a decade later, Marines were the first major ground combat force in Vietnam. Army Gen. William C. Westmoreland, who
commanded all American military forces in that country, conservatively stated he "admired the ιlan of Marines." But despite the
admiration, some Army leaders found their equally proficient units wanting for similar respect.
In 1982, during the invasion of Grenada, Army General John Vessey, then chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, telephoned one
of his officers and demanded to know why there were "two companies of Marines running all over the island and thousands of
Army troops doing nothing. What the hell is going on?"
The reputation of Marines stems from a variety of factors: The Marine Corps is the smallest, most unique branch of the U.S.
armed forces. Though it is organized as a separate armed service, it is officially a Naval infantry/combined-arms force overseen
by the secretary of the Navy. The Corps' philosophical approach to training and combat differs from other branches. Marine
boot camp more of a rite-of-passage than a training program is the longest and toughest recruit indoctrination program of
any of the military services. Men and women train separately. All Marines from private to Commandant are considered to be
first-and-foremost riflemen. And special-operations units in the Marines are not accorded the same respect as they are in other
branches. The Marines view special operations as simply another realm of war fighting. Marines are Marines, and no individual
Marine or Marine unit is considered more elite than the other. Consequently, newly minted Marines believe themselves to be
superior to other soldiers, spawning understandable resentment from other branches. But do Marines actually fight better than
other soldiers? Rivals argue it's not so much their ability to fight though that's never been a question but that Marines are
simply masters in the art of public relations.
President Harry Truman once stated that Marines "have a propaganda machine that is almost equal to Stalin's." Fact is, while
other armed services have lured recruits with promises of money for college, "a great way of life," or "being all you can be;" the
Marines have asked only "for a few good men [and today, women]" with the mettle to join their ranks.
Not surprisingly, there have been numerous unsuccessful efforts primarily on the part of some Army and Navy officers to
have the Corps either disbanded or absorbed into the Army or Navy. Most of those efforts took place in the first half of the 20th
Century. But even after the Marines' stellar performance in World War II, Army General Frank Armstrong proposed bringing
them into the Army fold and condescendingly referring to the Corps as "a small bitched-up army talking Navy lingo."
As late as 1997, Assistant Secretary of the Army Sara Lister took aim at the Marines. "I think the Army is much more connected
to society than the Marines are." Lister said before an audience at Harvard University. "Marines are extremists. Wherever you
have extremists, you've got some risks of total disconnection with society. And that's a little dangerous." Of course, the
Commandant of the Marine Corps demanded an apology. Lister was fired. And Marines secretly said among themselves, "Yes
we are extremists. We are dangerous. That's why we win wars and are feared throughout the world."
Despite its detractors, the Marines have become a wholly American institution like baseball players, cowboys, and
astronauts in the eyes of most Americans. Marines indeed may be extreme, but America loves them, extremism and all. And
fortunately for America, her enemies in the war against terror will continue to shudder up on hearing, "the Marines have landed."
Our Wounded Warriors NY Times By BOB HERBERT March 12, 2004
Hector Delgado joined the Marines in the spring of 1999. He was at loose ends in his hometown of Selden, N.Y., and hoped the Marines would give his life some "structure and discipline."
"Did it work?" I asked.
Corporal Delgado shifted his upper body in his wheelchair and laughed. "Oh, absolutely," he said. "One hundred percent."
His enlistment was supposed to have been up last March, and his plans were to pursue a career in law enforcement. He'd taken and passed the test for the New York City Police Department and was due to enter the police academy last summer.
But the U.S. went to war with Iraq, and Corporal Delgado's enlistment was extended. "They were pretty much preventing people from getting out," he said. "I was disappointed at first. But I had to sit down and really think about who I was, which was a marine, you know? This was my job."
Corporal Delgado was in the first wave of troops sent to Iraq and was severely injured in April 2003. He was with a convoy of vehicles, including fuel tankers, that had stopped outside Nasiriya. "All the fuel tankers were staged next to each other," he said. "Everyone was trying to sit in between them to get out of the sun because it was like 105 degrees that day.
"There was a lot of heavy equipment around, shaking the ground. And a tanker trailer really isn't all that sturdy in the sand. I had my friend Corporal Gonzalez sitting to my left, and all of a sudden I just started hearing metal crinkling and everybody yelling: `Get up! Get up!' "
Somehow the supports holding up the tanker that had been shielding Corporal Delgado and others from the fierce desert sun gave way.
"It landed on top of me," Corporal Delgado said. "On top of my waist."
He was pinned to the ground, facedown, for 25 minutes, remaining conscious the entire time. His pelvis was crushed. His right hip was broken and dislocated. Bones in his left leg and left foot were shattered. His abdominal muscles were crushed, and he suffered nerve damage in both legs.
In one of the great understatements of the 21st century, Corporal Delgado, who is 24, said, "It was very painful."
The rescue effort was excruciating. "They came with a forklift to try to lift it up," he said. "But the forklift couldn't do it. So they came over with a crane, and they hooked it up and the crane wasn't working. So they had to take the crane back and get another crane. As soon as they got it up, they pulled me out, and I was in so much pain they just threw me on the stretcher and put me in the medical Hummer and brought me to the medical tent.
"I looked up and saw both my feet were flopped over to the left, and I didn't want to look up again."
Corporal Delgado would learn later that his close friend, Cpl. Armando Gonzalez, who was right beside him when the tanker fell, was killed instantly. (Corporal Gonzalez, of Hialeah, Fla., was 25. He had married just six months prior to the accident, and last September his wife gave birth to a son.)
The troops who are selflessly sacrificing their bodies and their dreams in Iraq (as troops always do in war), are not getting a lot of attention here at home. Most of us are busy with other things presidential politics, Martha Stewart's rise and fall, the use of steroids in baseball.
I was put in touch with Corporal Delgado (and several other marines who were badly wounded in Iraq) by John Melia, founder of the Wounded Warrior Project (a division of the United Spinal Association), which tries to assist the young men and women who are hurt in the wars they fight for us.
"They come back," he said, "and in many cases they're not the same kids that they were when they left us."
Thousands of U.S. troops have been wounded and injured in Iraq. They have been paralyzed, lost limbs, suffered blindness, been horribly burned and so on. They are heroes, without question, but their stories have largely gone untold.
If Corporal Delgado is harboring any bitterness, I couldn't detect it. There were times, he said, when he wished he had died beneath the trailer. But he fought his way through the mental distress, just as he is fighting through the physical pain, and his goal is to one day walk again. He'll be discharged from the Marines soon and hopes to find work helping other disabled veterans.
"That's one way I could repay all the people who are helping me now," he said.
A MIRACLE MARINE BY JENNIFER C. SMITH NEWSDAY 6/28/03
"Marines: The Few The Proud" Motorcycle Club revs up Central Park
By Cpl. Clinton Firstbrook, Marine Corps Public Affairs New York City 5/29/04
Over the endless procession of traffic and chatter during the 17th Annual Fleet Week, the distinct sound of revving engines
roared through New York City heading for Marine Day in Central Park, where they proudly displayed the colors of the "Marines
The Few The Proud" motorcycle club.
Among martial arts, dog handling, and other Marine Corps demonstrations, seven Vietnam veterans dressed in camouflaged
utilities set their motorcycles on display and talked to attendees about their organization and prior service.
"I thought all of the motorcycles really added to the event and were a great display," said Raychel Maguire, Marine Day
attendee. "You could see how proud they are of their service in the Marine Corps. They were all extremely friendly and more
than happy to answer any of our questions. They even let my friends and I pose for a picture on one of their motorcycles."
Throughout the year this 15-member group travels along the east coast performing at parades and ceremonies paying tribute to
those who have and are currently serving their country.
"For a Marine to participate in an event like this one with the new recruits ... you see that the Marine Corps is in good hands,"
said Stew Rubin, "Marines: The Few The Proud" vice president. "They're upholding the very same Corps values when we were
in the Corps. This is where we belong."
Formed by three members in June 2003, this club quickly distinguished themselves from other motorcycle groups by not
charging an enrollment fee. Their only requirements to become a member are that interested parties are affiliated with the Marine
Corps League or an active duty service member who is authorized to wear the Fleet Marine Force ribbon and that you uphold
the traditions of the United States Marine Corps.
"We don't collect dues each month like other clubs," said Bob Heise, "Marines: The Few The Proud" sergeant at arms. "If
you've earned the eagle, globe and anchor, we don't prospect you. If you've earned the right to wear that emblem, you've earned
the right to be one of us."
But upholding the Corps' traditions involves more than just being courteous. Members must also keep themselves squared away
and inspection ready.
"We're not bikers," Rubin said. "We don't want to look like bikers. We keep our hair short and our boots and bikes spit shined.
We want to represent the Marine Corps how it should be. That's what we're about. We enjoy riding, but foremost we're Marines
and we will always be Marines."
At least every other week you can catch these motorcyclists out on the road. The following morning after Marine Day in Central
Park some of the members also rode down with Vietnam veteran motorcyclists to Washington D.C., for Rolling Thunder and to
the Massapequa Memorial Day Parade in Long Island, NY.
"If we're not attending an event of our own, we're out doing somebody else's," said Heise. "One event that we're all going out on
next month is a benefit run for a Marine who was injured in Iraq. Marines helping Marines; that's what we're all about."
"I hadn't ridden a motorcycle in 30 years," said John Lee, motorcycle member. "When I went out and bought another bike I
wanted to ride it with Marines. The camaraderie we have is the best part about being in the club. We all share the same bond
because we are all brothers."
While members are proud of their accomplishments there is one goal they have yet to reach.
"Our dream is to one day have a "Marines: The Few The Proud" chapter in every state and at every base," said Rubin. "That
would be incredible."
The below pictures appeared along with the above article in the Marine Corps News.
Members of "Marines The Few The Proud" stand in front of their motorcycles holding their colors at
Marine Day in Central Park during the 17th Annual Fleet Week.
Members of "Marines The Few The Proud" sit on their motorcycles posing for a photograph before heading back home.
Marine Day in Central Park attendees pose for a photo with president of "Marines
The Few The Proud" Mike Devine on his motorcycle.
President of "Marines The Few The Proud" Mike Devine takes a photo for Marine Day in
Central Park attendees while they pose on his motorcycle.
"Bob Heise, Marines The Few The Proud" Sergeant at Arms, talks with a Marine about
his motorcycle during Marine Day in Central Park.
