Belleau Wood-a Marine's perspective

Belleau Wood from a young Marine's perspective by Mark BBski

It was the day after the Zimmermann discovery, my heart ablaze with hate for the Germans, that I joined the Corps to protect these United States, even though I had lied and said I was 18. I was only 16, but appeared older, because I stood 5'11". God forgive me, but I couldn't stay home while half my relatives were going to join up and leave. How dare the Germans promise to return 5 states to the Mexicans, when all those brave men fought to stop Santa Anna, all those years ago! My father volunteered to go to the Phillipines to stop the insurrection in 1901, while serving as a Gunnery Sargent during the Spanish-American War. He was the one that warned them that the .38 Long Colt needed to be aimed at the islanders heads to stop them. It took the Brass Hats in the Corps 5 years before they would admit they were wrong. The Corps refused to buy any more Colts until something was done. Thank God for John Browning. His invention of the .45 ACP was a Jim dandy. Our officers really loved them, easy to load and never a jam. His serving the Corps was reason enough to enlist in the Marines, and I hardly considered one of the other services. They treat you firmly, and get you ready at Parris Island. Being a farmboy, I didn't have much trouble with the physical part. It was the mental toughening that was much harder. I'm not squeamish, but the things our Drill Instructors told us would make your hair stand on end. They were observers sent by Wilson himself to see what the meat grinder that was France had in store for us. They were dressed in French uniforms, of course, or our Neutrality would have been voided. The barrages, Maxim guns and even the damned German airplanes were wreaking havoc all over Northern France. We were issued Springfields and gear, and packed on a big ship to sail our way to war. Before we left, on my own initiative, I reported to the Colonel, and asked him if he knew my father. He smiled and said, yes, and that he had served with him as a LT. in Manila. He knew about the Colt debacle firsthand and asked me, a lowly PFC, what I thought about our rifle platoons. I didn't hold back and told him we would lose a lot of men, because the bolt on the rifle took too long to operate. He asked how I would solve the problem. I hesitated, and he said he wouldn't chide me for a wrong answer. I explained that we would be misused if we were under French auspices, that Marines being elite troops should be used as a strike force, not fodder for Parisian prancers to plop behind a wall of wire. That got his attention! Go on, he said, and I elaborated. Pershing should use us to probe weak areas and follow up with regular Army personnel to garrison the land behind us. Then they could use those bolt actions to secure the perimeter. The Corps needed something better, something that would shock the bejesus out of the Germans. The BAR wasn't issued to us until the following year and something had to be put into place, or we would take the horse collar! I told him we should use something I had seen the Mayor's son hunting with, something that would give us the edge. Browning had invented a gas fed 12 gauge Shotgun that Remington had just started to produce in quantity, that could be altered to suit the Corps needs. Load it with OO buckshot, make sure the barrel is 24 inches and extend the tube below to hold 10 shots! With the longer barrel, you could attach a bayonet in case you were close enough to stick somebody, which would conserve ammo while close-in fighting. He asked about proximity, and I said that men should act in three man teams to prevent shooting other Marines, spread the teams 8 feet apart. Besides being 3 pounds lighter than a Springfield, you only have to cock it once before reloading, and no matter where you hit the heine, he is out of commision, if not dead. We would need enough to outfit a brigade, but that wasn't a problem. Remington could ask the other shotgun makers to add the tooling to make them! All it would take is a word to the General Staff, and we would be able to give the Germans a good going over. What if you miss, he asked, and I said that most shotguns are used at 150 yards or less, making a good shot better, and because they were gas fed, it took no time to reload, just aim a little further left or right, and no more German. He told me my Father would be proud to hear such well thought out tactics, even if I was just a farmboy. I was told a few days later they would implement my plan and that I was promoted to Lance CPL. for such boldness. They took a slice of that years procurement money and diverted it to Remington and its' subsidiaries. They turned them out like gangbusters and we were instructed how to load and maintain them by John Browning himself! He was so proud that the Corps would choose his gun as their special issue. Most of the brigade was like me, young guys who never thought we would be as good as we were in our first action. We survived the U-boats and made it to Le Harve, where they took us by train to our first assignment. Damn Boche tried to bomb our rolling stock all the way there. Pershing did as promised, reserving us for this job, instead of throwing us away on a whim. We were up against crack German troops, that had not been used up in their last autumn's drive to take Paris. They failed that time, too. Belleau Wood was a small divot in this part of the trench system, but there was no room to dig trenches around the big trees that stood here. The Germans were above ground and couldn't expose their machine gun positions, lest they be howiztered in to oblivion, be the huge English 8 inch artillery pieces. It was us vs. them, with their being a whole lot more of them. We weren't worried, but a good awake feeling can't hurt a Marine, even a young one. We checked our gear, loaded our weapons, fixed bayonets and waited for dawn to brake. Our Top Sargent told us not to falter and leave anyone hurt behind us. This was an all-out assault, not a reconnoiter. The Germans were so smug, they even made hot food that we could smell, Bratwurst for crying out loud. Who could eat that at 6 A.M.? We ate hard bread out of a bag and washed it down with our canteens. Time enough to eat hot food later, after we had cut a big hole in their guts with our bayonets! No whistles or bugles were blown, to tip off the smarmy wine swillers, only hand signals worked out on the trip over the Atlantic. We didn't charge them like they wanted us to, we used the trees for cover, (Like the Green Mountain Boys did) and got to within 200 yards, before some joker spotted us through some real big binoculars. He yelled out something in German, but I can't tell you what it was, because they didn't teach any German at Ames Central High. We had to cover 50 yards of a clearing, before we could start to nail the heines. It took Great courage to hold fire, while they splattered some of our men with Mauser fire. We didn't charge or give a warning, we fast marched and made our way toward their center. They were amazed that we hadn't fired yet, but we were Marines, and trained well! Our Sargents yelled "Semper Fi!" and that was the order to commence firing. No one shot before the signal, and I was so proud that our boys did not flinch. The Germans expected to here the crack of a .30-06, and were unprepared for the booming roar of a 12 gauge. They were hitting us with one bullet, while we hit them with seven every time, tearing their uniforms to ribbons, with them inside! After 10 seconds, we were within 70 yards and bringing the hun Hellfire, American Hellfire! They were falling left and right, as they tried to work their bolts, and Browning's gun gave them 3 for 1. The buckshot was lead, which is illegal under war provisions, but so is using Poison gas, and they gassed many Allied soldiers. It worked it's magic, and those heines not shot directly in their face (removing it), were treated to the worst chest or belly wounds I ever saw. It was damn bloody, and seeing a man's arm or leg turned into hamburger was ghastly. I never lost my stomach, and continued fighting. Those Germans that weren't hammered unmercifully, were given a taste of cold steel from the business end. They panicked and tried to run, but we gave it to them all the same. We were told in every movie we saw, that only a coward shoots a man in the back. Well, this was no wild west show and they weren't packing 6 guns. Duty first and always, make sure they won't return to kill more of your men. They tried to reinforce, and we caught them coming in. After 3 hours, they abandonded the salient and Belleau Wood was ours! We were extremely proud to be Marines and knew this day would be written about, all over the U.S., in Britain, and behind the lines in France. Pershing gave us a unit citation, 5 men garnered the Silver Star for gallantry, and 3 the DSC. We lost 800 men that day, but the Germans lost 3,600 and momentum they would never regain. Petain gave us the Criox De Guerre and said if He had 3 divisions of our Marines, he could win the war in 6 months. That was the finest day I ever breathed air. To put green voluteers against polished warriors, and show them what spirit lies in the heart of the American Fighting Soldier, broke the backs of the Boche. Belleau Wood will live in all Marines hearts as the day the modern fighting Marine was born, with 800 crosses to bear testament. Uh rah, oh fallen heroes, may you never be forgotten!