Rumors of my death are greatly exaggerated. I haven’t posted on this site in a very long time. My first summer living in the Boston area was much more fun that I had imagined. I have tons of friends and plenty of women to cook for.
Over the summer I was very busy. There was always something going on. A party here, BBQ there, beach bash down there. I have plenty of ideas on how to expend this site and it’s message. Who wants local restaurant reviews from a real person’s point of view? Who wants more activity? Who wants more inventive, yet simple recipes? I have a lot of work to do, but I love it.
Today is the 231st anniversary of the US Marine Corps. There is an article below on Fredericksburg.com that I would love to share with you all. I used to live about 10 minutes north of Fredericksburg, but that’s not the point.
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Devil Dogs at 231
‘There is no finer fighting organization ‘
HARRY TRUMAN, who had served in World War I as an Army artillery officer, groused that the U.S. Marine Corps had “a propaganda machine that is almost equal to Stalin’s.” To which any thoughtful Leatherneck ought to have replied, “Well, thank you, Mr. President!” The Marines know the value of myth, in part because they have been the stuff of it.
An example: The image of five Marines and a Navy corpsman–next to his rifle, a Marine grunt’s best friend–raising the Stars and Stripes on Mount Suribachi is recognized from Congolese villages to the steppes of Uzbekistan. It has probably even penetrated the consciousness of most American teenagers. But the icon was no PR gimmick. It arose amid and from countless acts of heroism, preceded, perhaps, by a heroic bout of drinking.
It was, after all, at Philadelphia’s Tun Tavern, 231 years ago today, that the Continental Congress created the Marine Corps. In 1805, nine Marines, led by Fauquier County’s own Lt. Presley O’Bannon, set the tone for the Corps to come when they and 300 mercenaries tried to capture Tripoli during the first war against the Barbary pirates. The force failed to reach the city, an inconvenience that did not prevent the Marine Corps Hymn from commemorating the event 60-odd years later (see Truman, above). But the invaders did set a standard for dash and daring.
Alas, not all subsequent Marines covered themselves or their branch with glory. Two early commandants were court-martialed, and at First Bull Run, a Marine unit hightailed it along with the rest of the Yankee side. Of the Banana Wars and related pre-World War I adventures involving the Corps, another commandant, Smedley Butler, would say: “I spent most of my time as a high-class muscle man for Wall Street and the bankers. I helped make Haiti and Cuba a decent place for the National City Bank boys to collect revenues in. I helped in the raping of half a dozen Central American republics for the benefit of Wall Street.” Presidents from Andy Jackson to Ike wanted to fold the Marines into the Army and be done with them.
But along the way, the Marines fought. They fought very well, from Belleau Wood, where their German foes nicknamed them the tattoo-worthy “Devil Dogs,” to the deadly islands and atolls of the Pacific Campaign, to Inchon, where their 100-to-one shot amphibious landing turned around the Korean War (MacArthur: “There is not a finer fighting organization in the world”), to Hue and Fallujah and a thousand dusty, wet, or cold places unlisted except in the atlas of valor. Even the rare retreat became, in the words of one Marine officer, “attacking in another direction” (see Truman, above).
So happy birthday, Marine Corps. The myths you’ve made are called history, and they’ve kept a country free.
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Amen to that. Semper Fi! Yankees suck!