Part 15 (2/2)
But that was all right. They could fish her out and hoist her up by man power again. It was when they left the solid bank and had to put out into the river that their troubles began. A pile-driver ought to have a pretty solid foundation. Ought to have! They took two dugout canoes, lashed them together, put a bamboo deck across, set their pile-driver on the deck and turned to again. It made a kind of a wabbly base; besides hauling the hammer out every time it jumped into the river, they had to see that it didn't come bouncing down atop of their own heads or through the canoe deck. However, they were getting action. They finished driving the piles and setting up the stringers.
For their bridge floor they laid down wood s.h.i.+ngles, and over that a mat made out of woven bamboo strips. For a top deck? Well, it was a coral island and the roads of that country were of pounded coral; they put a top dressing of pounded coral across the bridge.
And then the young marine commander looked her over and figured on the dimensions of his struts and stringers, and said: ”Some cla.s.s! She'll stand a two-ton load.” And then along came a steam-roller from off the transport, and the roller weighed five tons and it was important that it be pa.s.sed across. ”Go ahead,” said the marine commander--”only I hope you can swim!” And they all camped on the bank to watch. The steam-roller man was an optimist and a literary person: ”You may have builded better than you know, captain!” The bridge settled down another foot, but the roller got across, and back and over many more times; which set the younger marines to standing on the bank and saying: ”That's us--bridge builders!”
The fight in the shack, the capture of Calcano, the sharpshooting at Vera Cruz, the building of that coral-floored bridge, are not set down here as wonderful stunts. They are set down because the writer happened to b.u.mp into them during a casual hour's inspection of their records.
Scores of more heroic or ingenious samples could be served up by anybody who cared to dig deep into the records. These are detailed here, because they could be briefly told and at the same time show the marine's characteristic qualities: courage, ingenuity, technic, and industry.
Here we might mention that it is not in itself an act of war to land marines on foreign soil. It was sending ash.o.r.e the bluejackets at Vera Cruz that made it an act of war. To protect American lives and property in Nicaragua a battalion of marines landed there a few years ago. They had some sharp fighting, but it was not an act of war. Do you begin to see him as a diplomatic a.s.set? And perhaps why all this landing action comes his way? Most of us have probably forgotten the details of that Nicaraguan landing; but--unless they have been jacked out lately--a company of those marines are still there, looking out for American interests. Only a company, but still hanging on.
Courage, ingenuity, industry--they need them all. Most of us will probably have to stop to remember that the marines who landed in Haiti and Santo Domingo are still there. And running things in their usual efficient fas.h.i.+on. There was the usual fighting to get a toe-hold, the usual fighting to retain place, the usual establis.h.i.+ng of outposts, with the usual killed and wounded already probably forgotten by most of us.
Perhaps they are too far away to make absorbing newspaper items; perhaps it is the Big War overshadowing all else.
In Haiti and Santo Domingo it was the old story of political factions, each faction having its own little gang of fighting men till our fellows came in and ran most of them into the hills. When the marines took charge they found that pretty much everything on the island had gone to wrack. As, for instance, under the old French regime there had been some splendid roads in Haiti, but now they were hardly more than sewers in the towns and a drainage for the hill slopes of the country.
The marines repaired the roads; not always using the picks and shovels themselves, but seeing to it that somebody did, paying a living wage for such work to the natives. Sometimes bandits--who are quite often gentle creatures when out of training--captured bandits were allowed to quit jail to do useful work in this line. The marines installed sanitary methods, saw that courts of justice were resumed, marine officers themselves serving as justices until they found natives who could do that service. Likewise they collected and disbursed taxes.
Above all, they did away with the old reign of terror, when no man's life was safe if he happened to be on the wrong side. When the bandits were running around unchecked, it was not safe for a whole family to go to market together. Generally the women went to sell their little produce, while the men stayed behind to guard the little property at home. Now--the natives speak of the wonder of it--the roads on market-days are crowded with both men and women.
At first they had distrust of the marine; not altogether because he was a foreigner (the tropical people probably are less distrustful of us than we of them)--he was an armed soldier. But they learned to know him, and now the native salutes and smiles without effort at the marine in pa.s.sing. When one particular marine officer left there to come home recently, crowds of native men, women, and children came down, some to weep, but all to wish him G.o.dspeed in going.
The marine is sometimes termed soldier and sailor too, which is not correct. He is not a sailor and does not claim to be. When not in barracks ash.o.r.e he lives aboard some war-s.h.i.+p afloat; and on s.h.i.+pboard he does certain guard work and handles the secondary batteries. But he does not have to sailorize; the bluejacket takes care of that part, and takes care of it well. The notion that a marine must qualify as a sailor aboard s.h.i.+p has probably cost the corps many a prospective recruit.
To call him a seagoing soldier is more nearly correct. When it is not an act of war to land marines on foreign soil, it is good business to keep them where landings can be quickly made with them. So his being kept aboard s.h.i.+p, perhaps. Bluejackets have taken part in landing-parties, too, but it is not to black the bluejacket's eye to say that it is not his regular job. The bluejacket's work is aboard s.h.i.+p--on the bridge, in magazines, in turrets, below decks. Advance sh.o.r.e work is the marine's specialty, and he goes to it pretty much as a man with a dinner-pail goes to work in the subway.
He is the first to land, the last to leave, and to name the places where he has seen service--well, one of them wrote a song once.
”From the hills of Montezuma to the sh.o.r.es of Tripoli,” it began. But he has seen more than Mexico or the Mediterranean since. He could now say:
”From the hills of Montezuma to the gates of old Peking He has heard the shrapnel bursting, he has heard the Mauser's ping!
He has known Alaskan waters and the coral roads of Guam, He has----”
But it's like calling a roll--Egypt, Algeria, Tripoli, Abyssinia, Mexico, China, j.a.pan, Korea, Cuba, Porto Rico, Panama, Nicaragua, Haiti, Santo Domingo, Alaska, the Philippines, Formosa, Sumatra, Hawaii, Samoa, Guam--like calling the roll of tropic countries and a few less warm to say where he has been.
He has been most everywhere, done most everything. Did you ever see any mounted marines? There is a guard of mounted marines right now with the legation in Peking; and once a platoon of marines, on duty in Africa, not being able to get big enough horses, rode camels through the wilds of Abyssinia to the palace of old Menelik.
In speaking here of the marines, no man or officer has been named.
That is done of a purpose. In talking of the corps, from the topsiders down--generals, colonels, majors, captains lieutenants, and enlisted men--one fact stuck out: They all played up the corps.
All individuals--officers and men--were made subordinate to the corps.
So here, taking the tip, no names are named. A soldier speaks of his regiment, a bluejacket of his s.h.i.+p. The Marine Corps is made up of companies, regiments, battalions, divisions; but it is the corps of which the marine always speaks.
If you ask the members of any other outfit to name the model military unit, they may name their own branch of the service first; but if they do, it is almost a sure bet that they will name the United States Marine Corps next. When they do not name themselves first, they name the marines first. And this does not apply to outfits in this country alone.
By the look of things now, there probably will be plenty of war before we are done. If any young fellow is wishful to be in the middle of it, we would say: Consider the marines. You may not see them mentioned every morning in the press reports, but be sure of this--they are there and on the job.
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