Rivalry at Normandy U.S. Marines barred from the June 6, 1944 landings. By W. Thomas Smith Jr. Sixty-years-ago, along a 60-mile stretch of France's Normandy coastline, a combined force of American, British, and Canadian soldiers began streaming ashore as German artillery, mortar, machine-gun, and rifle fire ripped into their ranks. The mission of the Allied force was to kick down the door of Nazi Germany's Fortress Europe, and then launch a drive toward the heart of Adolf Hitler's Third Reich. Overseen by American Gen. Dwight D. "Ike" Eisenhower, the operation was — and remains to this day — the largest amphibious assault in history. Since then, the question has often been raised as to why the U.S. Marine Corps did not play a leading role in the landings. After all, the Corps's raison d'être was amphibious warfare. Marines had been perfecting the art of the amphibious assault since the 1920's, and between 1942 and 1944, they had put their skills to practical use at places like Guadalcanal, Makin, Bougainville, and Tarawa, in the Pacific. In the Atlantic, Marines had trained Army forces for seaborne landings prior to the North African campaign in 1942, and then made landings during the same. Marines trained Army forces for the Sicilian-Italian landings in 1943. Marine Corps amphibious experts were on Ike's staff. And most Normandy-bound Army units were in fact instructed by Marines prior to the 1944 invasion. So why didn't U.S. Marines storm the French coast with their Army counterparts? First, the Marine Corps was then — as it has always been — much smaller than the Army. During World War II, the Corps swelled to a force comprising six divisions, whereas the Army expanded to 89 divisions. The Corps' resources were stretched thin, and much of its efforts were focused on the fighting in the Pacific. Second, a deep-seeded rivalry between the Army and Marines was in full bloom: Its origins stretching back to World War I; the defining period of the modern Marine Corps. Following the 1918 Battle of Belleau Wood (France), in which Marines played a leading role, newspapers in the U.S. credited much of the success of the American Expeditionary Force to the Marines. This occurred at the expense of deserving Army units even when referring to actions in which Marines did not participate. In one instance, a number of newspapers covering the fighting at the Marne River bridges at Chateau-Thierry (a few days prior to the Battle of Belleau Wood) published headlines that read "Germans stopped at Chateau-Thierry with help of God and a few Marines." The headlines contributed to the Corps' already legendary reputation, and the Army was justifiably incensed. The Germans in fact had been stopped at Chateau-Thierry by the U.S. Army's 7th machinegun battalion. Army leaders — including Generals George C. Marshall, Eisenhower, and Omar N. Bradley — were determined not to be upstaged by Marines, again. Thus, when America entered World War II in late 1941, the Marine Corps was deliberately excluded from large-scale participation in the European theater. And when the largest amphibious operation in history was launched, it was for all intents and purposes an Army show. In the wee hours of June 6, 1944, paratroopers from the American 82nd, 101st, and British 6th Airborne divisions began jumping over France. Hours later, the first assault waves of the initial 175,000-man seaborne force began hitting the Normandy beaches at the Bay of Seine. Five beaches comprised the landing areas: Sword, Juno, and Gold Beaches were struck by Lt. Gen. Miles Christopher Dempsey's Second British Army. Omaha and Utah Beaches were stormed by Gen. Bradley's First U.S. Army. Between Omaha and Utah, 225 men of the U.S. 2nd Ranger Battalion were tasked with scaling the 100-foot cliffs of Pointe du Hoc. There, five 155-millimeter guns were emplaced in reinforced concrete bunkers. As such the position encompassed "the most dangerous battery in France." It had to be knocked out to protect the landings. When the Rangers began suffering heavy losses, brief consideration was given to sending-in the Marines from one of the offshore ships' detachments. Those slated to go were leathernecks from the 84-man Marine Detachment aboard the battleship U.S.S. Texas. On the morning of June 7 (D-plus-one), the Texas's Marines began making last minute preparations: Wiping down weapons, distributing grenades, waterproofing field packs, and sharpening K-Bar fighting knives. Others were on the mess decks eating the traditional pre-landing breakfast of steak and eggs: A fact that concerned the Navy's medical corpsmen who feared they would be treating stomach wounds later in the day. Those anxious to go ashore, watched the ongoing action from the ship's railings. In his book, Spearheading D-Day, Jonathan Gawne writes, "Most of these Marines had no combat experience and had only been in the Corps for a few months [the same could have been said of many of the soldiers who had just landed]. One of them [the Marines] commented: 'This is going to be the biggest slaughter since Custer got his at the Little Big Horn.'" At the last minute, word was passed down through the Army chain of command that no Marines would be allowed to go ashore, not even riding shotgun on landing craft ferrying Army troops or supplies. Rumors quickly spread that the Army leadership feared a repeat of the media gaffes in 1918. They did not want to see headlines that read, Marines save Rangers at Normandy. Consequently, the Marines were ordered to "stand down." Though little-known outside of special-operations circles, Marines did however play a few combat roles in the invasion. Prior-to, during, and after the landings, Marines assigned to the Office of Strategic Services (OSS) — the predecessor to the Central Intelligence Agency — planned and led sabotage and resistance operations with the French underground against the occupying Germans. On D-Day, Marines helped pave the way for British and American pathfinders and paratroopers who dropped behind enemy lines. Additionally, a handful of Marine Corps observers were attached to Army landing forces. Offshore, Marines were positioned high in the superstructures of American warships in the English Channel. From their lofty perches, the riflemen fired at and detonated floating mines as the ships moved in close to "bombardment stations" along the French coastline. It was reminiscent of the Old Corps during the age of sail when sharp-shooting Marines climbed the masts and riggings and battled enemy crews from the "fighting tops." Normandy was indeed big, but the war itself was far bigger. There was enough action in both the Atlantic and Pacific theaters for everyone, and everyone got to play. But that failed to stanch the growing interservice rivalry between the Army and Marines. The day before the invasion of Normandy, a restless Army Lt. Gen. George S. Patton Jr. addressed his troops (the shorter, less-profane version of that address was made famous by actor George C. Scott, who ironically was a former U.S. Marine). Publicly, Patton was full of fire and an unsated desire to kill the enemy. Privately, he was disappointed. Neither he nor his 1st U.S. Army Group — a skeleton host formed to deceive the Germans into believing that the Americans would land at Pas de Calais — were going to participate in the landings. But unbeknownst to the general, the coming weeks would see Eisenhower bring Patton off the sidelines, give him command of the U.S. Third Army, and then hurl that force against the reconstituted German defenses beyond the Normandy beachhead. In that capacity, Patton was destined to make headlines of his own. Outlining his colorful albeit controversial vision of the future, Patton said, "The quicker we clean up this g**damned mess, the quicker we can take a little jaunt against the purple pissing Japs and clean out their nest, too. Before the g**damned Marines get all of the credit." — A former U.S. Marine infantry leader and paratrooper, W. Thomas Smith Jr. is a freelance journalist whose work has appeared in a variety of national and international publications. His third book, Alpha Bravo Delta Guide to American Airborne Forces, has just been published.
The Marines have gone to great lengths not make any part of the Marine Corps any more "elite" than the other. Edson's Raiders are really the only "elite" unit that eventually evolved into the Recon Battalion and Force Recon. The "Para-Marines" didn't last long at all and were folded back into regular units by 1944. Given the Mission and Tactics of the Marines in WW2 developing mechanized or air deliverable units wasn't necessary; considering the size of most of the Islands that were assaulted. As tactics and equipment evolved so did Marine training. Each Marine division had it's own Amphibious Tractor battalion that would be "attached" to which ever regiment was on the initial assault. Prior to the invasion Marines would train on how to embark and disembark and that was pretty much it. The Marine philosophy of "Mechanization", pretty much, revolves around the best way to deliver a bayonet to the guts of an enemy; that's the mission.
[SIZE=+3]Colonel Peter Julien Ortiz[/SIZE][SIZE=+2]OSS Marine, Actor, Californian[/SIZE]byBenis FrankWhile preparing the Marine POWs appendix for Victory and Occupation, vol. V of History of U.S. Marine Corps Operations in World War II, to locate the names and places of the various POW camps in which Marines were incarcerated, I had to use the casualty report prepared by the Reports and Statistical Unit, Personnel Service Branch at Headquarters Marine Corps. This report was prepared in 1952, and is the final accounting of Marine casualties in World War II. It was one of these very wide machine records printout with a large number of columns, each one having its own code for a prison camp or for POWs, or whether the individual was KIA, WIA, or Missing in Action Presumed Dead. As I went from the printout to the code sheet, I was surprised to find that a handful of Marines had been captured in Europe. I immediately assumed that these may have been OSS Marines, and to validate this assumption, I randomly selected the name of one of the POWs, Major Peter J. Ortiz, and retrieved from the St. Louis personnel records center his officer's qualification jacket. A review of the jacket revealed to me a brand new area of Marine Corps history, i.e., the story of the Marines who served in Europe with the OSS. I had previously known that such Marines existed, but not very much about their activities, because they were for the most part classified and besides, as a Marine Corps historian of Marine operations in the Pacific, that is where my attention was focused. As it turned out, Ortiz' exploits before he enlisted in the Marine Corps were as spectacular as his World War II experiences. So dramatic were his adventures--that is a very weak word when describing what he did, but it will have to suffice--that two movies were made about his accomplishments. One was not too bad a movie, "13 Rue Madeleine," with James Cagney, and the second, a not too good one. This was "Operation Secret," with Cornell Wilde. As I later learned, Ortiz worked on the script of "13 Rue Madeleine," and for many Hollywood OSS and Foreign Legion pictures, he was the technical director. (Jacq': He also acted in several pictures.) However, as I researched and read about Ortiz' exploits in Europe, I became convinced that in his case, there was no way by which art could imitate life. Peter Julien Ortiz was born in New York on 5 August 1913, of a French father with a strong line of Spanish forebears, and an American mother. Ortiz père was well connected socially and otherwise in France, and had his son, who spent much of his youth in that country, educated there. He was a student at the University of Grenoble when the adventure bug apparently bit him. As I was told recently, "Pete enlisted in the Legion just for adventure. Held read a lot of romantic tales. He had a Polish girl friend at the time (who was also at Grenoble) and she accompanied him to Marseilles. He enlisted under her name." His father made an attempt to buy him out, and when he arrived in Morocco to take his son home, "Pete would have none of it," and he remained in the Legion until 1937. During this time, he rose through the ranks from private to acting lieutenant, and was offered a permanent commission as second lieutenant if he agreed to reenlist for five years and consider eventual naturalization as a French citizen. He turned down the offer and returned to the United States. He was acting lieutenant in charge of an armored car squadron when he resigned. While with the Legion, he fought in a number of engagements in Africa and was wounded in 1933. He was well decorated for this first tour--he received the Croix de Guerre with two palms, one gold star, one silver star, and five citations; the Croix des Combatants; the Ouissam Alouite; and the Medaille Militaire. He returned to the States and went to California, where his mother lived. He soon became employed in Hollywood as a technical director on military matters. When the war broke out in Europe, Ortiz returned to the Legion. He enlisted in October 1939, got a battlefield commission in May 1940. For his service 1939-1940, he was decorated with the Croix de Guerre (one palm, one silver star, two citations), Croix des Combattants, 1939-1949. In June 1940, he was wounded and captured. Ortiz was taken when he learned that some gasoline had not been destroyed before his men had withdrawn. He returned to that area on a motorcycle, drove through the German camp, blew up the gasoline dump, and was on his way back to his lines when he was shot in the hip, the bullet exiting his body, but hitting his spine on the way out. He was temporarily paralyzed and easily taken. He spent 15 months as a POW in Germany, Poland, and Austria. He attempted a number of escapes, and finally succeeded in October 1941. He reached the United States by way of Lisbon on 8 December, and was interrogated by Army and Navy intelligence officers, and was promised a commission. It didn't come through immediately. He had been offered commissions by the Free French and the British in Portugal, but he wanted to wear an American uniform. In any case he was not fit for immediate active duty and, besides, wanted to see his mother in California. By June 1942, when nothing further was heard about the commission, he enlisted in the Marine Corps on the 22d and was assigned to boot camp at Parris Island. Ortiz was tall, athletically built, handsome, and had a military carriage, which is understandable since he had served over five years with the Legion, and it is also understandable that he stood out from the rest of the recruits in his boot platoon. In addition, he wore his decorations, which caused no little interest by his DIs and the senior officers at Parris Island. Colonel Louis R. Jones, a well-decorated World War I Marine and at this time Chief of Staff at the Recruit Depot, wrote the Commandant of the Marine Corps about Ortiz on 14 July. He enclosed in his letter copies of Ortiz' citations for the French awards together with Ortiz' application for a commission. In his letter, Jones wrote: Private Ortiz had made an extremely favorable impression upon the undersigned. His knowledge of military matters is far beyond that of the normal recruit instructor. Ortiz is a very well set up an and makes an excellent appearance. The undersigned is glad to recommend Ortiz for a commission in the Marine Corps Reserve and is of the opinion that he would be a decided addition to the Reserve Officer list. In my opinion he has the mental, moral, professional, and physical qualifications for the office for which he has made application. On 1 August 1942, Ortiz was commissioned, with a date of rank of 24 July. He was kept at Parris Island for two months as an assistant training officer and then sent to Camp Lejeune to join the 23d Marines, and then, despite the fact that he was a qualified parachutist from his time in the Legion, he was sent to the Parachute School at Camp Lejeune, but not for long. In all, counting his jumps with the Legion, at Camp Lejeune, and with the OSS, he made a total of 154 of all types. Meanwhile, Headquarters Marine Corps had become very interested in his record, his duty with the Foreign Legion, and the fact that he was a native French speaker, and less so with German, Spanish, and Arabic. On 16 November, Colonel Keller E. Rockey, of the Division of Plans and Policies, sent a memo to Major General Commandant Thomas Holcomb, stating that "The rather unique experiences and qualifications of Lieutenant Ortiz indicate that he would be of exceptional value to American units operating in North Africa. It is suggested that the services of Lieutenant Ortiz be offered to the Army through COMINCH {Admiral Ernest J. King, Chief of Naval Operations/Commander in Chief, U.S. Fleet)." Colonel Rockey also recommended Ortiz' promotion to first lieutenant or captain. As a matter of fact, he was promoted to captain from second lieutenant on 3 December. On the 21st he left Washington for Tangier, Morocco, where he was assigned duty as assistant naval attaché. That was just a cover. He was ordered to organize a patrol of Arab tribesmen to scout German forces on the Tunisian front. Major General William J. Donovan, Director of the Office of Strategic Services, forwarded to the Commandant a message from Algiers which read, "While on reconnaissance on the Tunisian front, Captain Peter Ortiz, U.S.M.C.R. was severely wounded in the right hand while engaged in a personal encounter with a German patrol. He dispersed the patrol with grenades. Captain Ortiz is making good recovery in hospital at Algiers. The (P)urple (H)eart was awarded to him." In April 1943, he returned to Washington to recuperate and in May was assigned to the Naval Command, OSS. In July he flew to London for further assignment to missions in France. He was to spend most of his time in France in the southeastern region known as the Haute Savoie. In that region is the Vercors plateau, which was of special interest to General Charles de Gaulle, as well as to the British Special Operations Executive (SOE) and the OSS. Not only were there some 3,000 Free French Maquisards in the area, but it was planned to turn Vercors into a redoubt against which the Germans would attack in vain and which would be a major center of French resistance in the area to be called upon when D-Day arrived. It was vitally necessary to contact and arm this group. To attempt this task, SOE decided to form an inter-allied team consisting of English, French, and American agents. The mission was codenamed UNION and it was to determine the military capabilities of the units reported active in Savoie, Isere, and Drome. The team's mission was to impress the leaders of such units with the fact that "organization for guerrilla warfare activity, especially after D-Day, is now their more important duty." The British team member was Colonel H.H.A. Thackwaite, a prewar schoolmaster; the French radio operator was "Monnier," purportedly the best in the business. Ortiz was the American. The team dropped into France on the moonless night of 6 January. Per standard SOE practice, they wore civilian clothes, but carried their uniforms with them. Once they linked up with the maquis on the ground, they identified themselves as military men on a military mission. Accordingly, as M.R.D. Foot wrote in SOE in France, they were the first Allied officers to appear in uniform in France since 1940. Thackwaite later wrote that "Ortiz, who knew not fear, did not hesitate to wear his U.S. Marine captain's uniform in town and country alike; this cheered the French but alerted the Germans and the mission was constantly on the move." Parenthetically, I have seen pictures of Ortiz in uniform in France at this time, and was shocked to see that he had removed the grommet from his cap, so that he wore it like Air Corps pilots wore their "30 mission" caps. Incidentally, Ortiz always thought that Thackwaite's statement that he "knew not fear," was absolutely ridiculous. Considering all that he had been through with the Legion and now with the OSS, of course he knew fear. UNION found several large groups of maquisards willing and ready to fight, but lacking weapons. It took the team considerable time to arrange for clandestine arms drops and weapons instruction for the maquis. As Lieutenant Colonel Robert Mattingly wrote in his prize-winning monograph, Herringbone Cloak--GI Dagger: Marines of the OSS: It might be reasonable to suppose that the team remained hidden in the high country, but this was not the case. Ortiz in particular was fond of going straight into the German-occupied towns. On one occasion, he strolled into a cafe dressed in a long cape. Several Germans were drinking and cursing the maquis. One mentioned the fate which would befall the filthy American swine when he was caught. (The Nazis apparently knew of Ortiz' existence in the area with the maquis) This proved a great mistake. Captain Ortiz threw back the cape revealing his Marine uniform. In each hand he held a .45 automatic. When the shooting stopped, there were fewer Nazis to plan his capture and Ortiz was gone into the night. This story has appeared in several forms, but in any case it appears that there was this confrontation, with the Nazis the losers. Ortiz appeared to be truly fearless and altogether brave. He had another talent, that of stealing Gestapo vehicles from local motor pools. His citation for the British award making him a Member of the Most Honourable Order of the British Empire reads in part: For four months this officer assisted in the organization of the maquis in a most difficult department where members were in constant danger of attack...he ran great risks in looking after four RAF officers who had been brought down in the neighborhood, and accompanied them to the Spanish border (at the Pyrenees). In the course of his efforts to obtain the release of these officers, he raided a German military garage and took ten Gestapo motors which he used frequently...he procured a Gestapo pass for his own use in spite of the fact that he was well known to the enemy.... The UNION team experienced great problems in getting the area organized. Money was short and there was a lack of transportation. Security at the regional and departmental levels was poor, and there was the country-wide problem of getting resistance organizations with divergent political views to cooperate. The maquisards lacked heavy weapons, basic gear such as blankets, field equipment, radios, ammunition, and the list goes on. In the midst of all this, in late May 1944, before D-Day at Normandy, the UNION team with withdrawn to England for further assignments. In England, he was decorated with the first of two Navy Crosses he was to earn. The citation for the first read: For extraordinary heroism while attached to the United States Naval Command, Office of Strategic Services, London, England, in connection with military operations against an armed enemy, in enemy-occupied territory, from 8 January to 20 May 1944. Operating in civilian clothes and aware that he would be subject to execution in the event of his capture, Major Ortiz parachuted from an airplane with two other officers of an Inter-Allied mission to reorganize existing Maquis groups and organize additional groups in the region of Rhone. By his tact, resourcefulness and leadership, he was largely instrumental in effecting the acceptance of the mission by the local resistance leaders, and also in organizing parachute operations for the delivery of arms, ammunition and equipment for use by the Maquis in his region. Although his identity had become known to the Gestapo with the resultant increase in personal hazard, he voluntarily conducted to the Spanish border four Royal Air Force officers who had been shot down in his region, and later returned to resume his duties. Repeatedly leading successful raids during the period of this assignment, Major Ortiz inflicted heavy casualties on enemy forces greatly superior in number, with small losses to his own forces. By his heroic leadership and astuteness in planning and executing these hazardous forays, Major Ortiz served as an inspiration to his subordinates and upheld the highest traditions of the United States Naval Service. Ortiz, who had been promoted to the rank of major, returned to France on 1 August, the head of a mission entitled UNION II. This was a new type of OSS mission, an Operational Group. These were heavily armed contingents which were tasked with direct action against the Germans. They were not only to conduct sabotage, but also were to seize key installations to prevent retreating German units from destroying them. Team members were always in uniform. Accompanying Ortiz on this mission were Army Air Forces Captain Francis Coolidge, Gunnery Sergeant Robert La Salle, Sergeants Charles Perry, John P. Bodnar, Frederick J. Brunner, and Jack R. Risler, all Marines, and a Free French officer, Joseph Arcelin, who carried false papers identifying him as a Marine. [SIZE=-1][/SIZE]This was a daylight drop near the town of les Saises in the Haute Savoie region. In addition to the team, a large supply of weapons and ammunition and other supplies in 864 containers for the French Bulle Battalion operating in the region were also dropped. The mission began badly, for Perry's steel parachute cable snapped, and he was dead in the drop zone. His comrades buried him with military honors. During the week after they arrived in France, UNION II instructed the members of the Bulle Battalion on the functioning and maintenance of the new weapons they had just received. Then they began a series of patrols in order to link up with other resistance groups believed to be operating in the area. In an activity report, Brunner later stated: On 14 August we proceeded to Beaufort where we made contact with other F.F.I. (Forces Francaises de liInterieur) companies and from there went on to Montgirod where we were told there were heavy concentrations of Germans. We were able to enter the town but had no sooner done so than we were heavily shelled by German batteries located in the hills around the city. We were forced to retire and hid out in the mountains near Montgirod with the Bulle Battalion. The Germans quickly surrounded the area. Two days later, Ortiz and his group were surprised in the town of Centron by elements of the 157th Alpine Reserve Division, consisting of 10-12 heavy trucks in which there were several hundred troops. The convoy was headed for the garrison of Bourg-St. Maurice, northeast of Centron. (Ironically, by 20 August, the Germans were in confused retreat after the Allied landing in Southern France on 15 August. Also ironically, the first American jeep entered Albertville, in the Haute Savoie, on 22 August.) The surprise was mutual. Spotting the Americans, the trucks screeched to a halt and soldiers tumbled out and began firing. Brunner later recalled: Major Ortiz, Sergeant Bodnar and Sergeant Risler withdrew into the southwest section of the town. Captain Coolidge, Jo-Jo, (the French member of the team) and I took the southeast. We retaliated as best we could, working our way under fire toward the east. I called out to Jo-Jo to follow us but he remained in the town. At this time, Captain Coolidge received a bullet in the right leg but he kept going. By then we had reached the bank of the Isere. I dived in and swam across under fire. I had some difficulty as the current was very swift. It was then that I became separated from Coolidge and did not see him again until we met...on 18 August (at the location of another resistance group). Ortiz, Risler, and Bodnar were receiving the bulk of the German fire. As they retreated from house to house in Centron, French civilians implored them to give up in order to avoid reprisals. Ortiz ordered the two sergeants to get out while they could, but neither would go without him. Ortiz recognized that if he and his men shot their way out of the entrapment, local villagers would undoubtedly suffer for Germans deaths which a firefight surely would have produced. He knew of the massacre at Vassieux and the destruction of the town of Oradur-sur-Glane and all of its inhabitants. In his after-action report given after his liberation from a POW camp, Ortiz stated: Since the activities of Mission Union and its previous work were well know to the Gestapo, there was no reason to hope that we would be treated as ordinary prisoners of war. For me personally the decision to surrender was not too difficult. I had been involved in dangerous activities for many years and was mentally prepared for my number to turn up. Sergeant Bodnar was next to me and I explained the situation to him and what I intended to do. He looked me in the eye and replied, "Major, we are Marines, what you think is right goes for me too." Ortiz began shouting to the Germans in an attempt to surrender. When a brief lull ensued, he stepped forward and calmly walked toward the Germans as machine gun bullets kicked up dust around him. Finally the firing stopped, and Ortiz was able to speak to the German officer in command. The major agreed to accept the surrender of the Americans and not harm the townspeople. When only two more Marines appeared, the major became suspicious and demanded to know where the rest of his enemy were. After a search of the town, the Germans accepted the fact that only three men had held off a battalion. Bodnar and Risler were quickly disarmed and Ortiz called them to attention, and directed that they give only their names, ranks, and serial numbers as required by the Geneva Convention's terms relating to the treatment of prisoners of war. This greatly impressed the Germans, who began treating them all with marked respect. From that time, until 29 September, when he reached his final destination, the naval POW camp Marlag/Milag Nord located in the small German village of Westertimke outside Bremen, Ortiz looked for every opportunity to escape, but none presented itself. Fortunately for Ortiz and the other prisoners, this prison camp was loosely controlled in that outside of periodic searches and roll calls three times a day, the POWs were left to themselves. Still, Ortiz tried to escape several times, despite the fact that the senior Allied POW was a Royal Navy captain who made it plain to the new arrival that escapes were out. Ortiz then declared himself the senior American POW present and that he would make his own rules. Allied forces were drawing closer each day, and suddenly, on 10 April, the camp commandant ordered all POWs to prepare to leave within three hours. The column left with such haste, that a number of the prisoners were left behind. Not Ortiz, for special watch was kept over him. En route, the column was attacked by diving Spitfires, whereupon Ortiz, and three other prisoners made for a nearby wood, and waited for the column to continue on, which it did, leaving him and his fellows behind unnoticed. Allied progress was slow, and the escapees were not rescued as quickly as they thought they would be. Ortiz later reported: We spent ten days hiding, roving at night, blundering into enemy positions hoping to find our way into British lines. Luck was with us. Once we were discovered but managed to get away, and several other times we narrowly escaped detection...By the seventh night, we had returned near our camp. I made a reconnaissance of Marlag O....There seemed to be only a token guard and prisoners of war appeared to have assumed virtual control of the compounds. The escapees were in bad physical shape. On the tenth day, the four men decided it might be better to live in their old huts than to starve to death outside. They walked back into the camp, no commotion was raised by the guards, and the remaining POWs gave them a rousing welcome. Among the reception committee were Bodnar, Risler, and the French "Marine," Jo-Jo--Joseph Arcelin. The battle reached Westertimke on 27 April, and two days later, the British 7th Guards Armoured Division liberated the camp. Along with Bodnar, Risler, and Second Lieutenant Walter Taylor, another OSS officer who had been captured in Southern France, Ortiz reported to a U.S. Navy radar officer assigned to a Royal Marine commando attached to the Guards Division. The Marines wanted to join this unit in order to bag a few more Germans before the war was ended. Their request was refused. Ortiz and his fellow Marines were sent to staging areas behind the front, and then to Brussels where he reported to the OSS officer-in-charge. He then was sent to London, where he was awarded his second Navy Cross, the citation for which read: For extraordinary heroism while serving with the Office of Strategic Services during operations behind enemy Axis lines in the Savoie Department of France, from 1 August 1944, to 27 April 1945. After parachuting into a region where his activities had made him an object of intensive search by the Gestapo, Major Ortiz valiantly continued his work in coordinating and leading resistance groups in that section. When he and his team were attacked and surrounded during a special mission designed to immobilize enemy reinforcements stationed in that area, he disregarded the possibility of escape and, in an effort to spare villagers severe reprisals by the Gestapo, surrendered to this sadistic Geheim Staats Polizei (sic). Subsequently imprisoned and subjected to numerous interrogations, he divulged nothing, and the story of this intrepid Marine Major and his team has become a brilliant legend in that section of France where acts of bravery were considered commonplace. By his outstanding loyalty and self-sacrificing devotion to duty, Major Ortiz contributed materially to the success of operations against a relentless enemy, and upheld the highest traditions of the United States Naval Service. Ortiz returned to California and civilian life in the movie industry as both a technical advisor and as an actor. He was a good friend of director John Ford, who put him in a couple of John Wayne movies. He wasn't the greatest of actors, and he never really liked seeing the movies he was in. He remained in the Marine Corps Reserve, reaching the rank of lieutenant colonel. He was offered the command of a reserve tank battalion located in San Diego, but had to turn it down because his commitments in Hollywood kept him quite busy. In April 1954, he wrote a letter to the Commandant, volunteering to return to active duty to serve as a Marine observer in Indochina. The Marine Corps was unable to accept Ortiz' offer because "current military policies will not permit the assignment requested." He retired in March 1955 and was promoted to colonel on the retired list for having been decorated in combat. In October 1945, the French government decreed him a Chevalier of the Legion of Honour. He also received the Croix de Guerre with five citations, the Medaille de Blesses, Medaille d'Evades, Medaille Coloniale. In addition to his two Navy Crosses, his American awards included the Legion of Merit with Combat "V" and two Purple Heart Medals. And, as noted earlier, he was made a Member of the Order of the British Empire (Military Division). On 16 May 1988, Colonel Peter J. Ortiz, USMCR (Ret) died of cancer, and in doing so, lost the only battle of the many he fought. He was buried with full military honors in Arlington National Cemetery, with military representatives of the British and French governments present. While the name of Peter Ortiz may not be well known to present-day Marines or to the American people, it is certain that the citizens of les Saisies or of Centron will never forget him and the Marines who fought with him in France. Both towns commemorated the anniversaries of the major events which occurred in each place 50 years earlier. Invited to attend the ceremonies in August 1994 were Colonel Ortiz' wife, Jean, and their son, Marine Lieutenant Colonel Peter J. Ortiz, Jr., retired Sergeant Major John P. Bodnar, and former Sergeant Jack R. Risler. Also present at the ceremonies were Lieutenant Colonel Robert L. Parnell II, USMC, assistant Naval Attaché in Paris, and Colonel Peter T. Metzger, commander of the 26th Marine Expeditionary Unit, then in the Mediterranean, together with a color guard and an honor guard from his unit. On 1 August 1994, the ceremonies at les Saisies began in the afternoon with a parachute drop made by French troops. Members of the famous Chasseurs Alpins together with the 26th MEU Marines rendered honors as a monument acclaiming the 1994 event was dedicated. Twelve days later, the town of Centron held its own ceremonies when it unveiled a plaque naming the town center "Place Peter Ortiz." This event was attended by many former members of the local maquis unit in the region, as well as the Marine contingent and Mrs. Ortiz and her son. As an aside, during CBS's coverage of the last Winter Olympics in Albertville and the surrounding region, Charles Kuralt had a 20-minute spot about Peter Ortiz, telling of his exploits. Peter Julien Ortiz was a man among men. It is doubtful that his kind has been seen since his time. [SIZE=+1]Fact or Fiction?[/SIZE] Leatherneck magazine of January 1991, reported that: In the course of his duties he began frequenting a nightclub in Lyons that catered to German officers. This enabled Ortiz to gain much information regarding German activities in the area, which he turned to good use against the Germans. This Marine had worn his Marine uniform when leading Maquis groups in raids. To have an Allied officer leading them bolstered their morale immensely, especially when the uniform bore such impressive decorations. One night, while Ortiz sat with the German officers at the club in Lyons, an enemy soldier damned President Franklin Roosevelt. He then damned the United States of America. And then, for whatever reason, he damned the United States Marine Corps (Ortiz later wrote that he "could not, for the life of me, figure why a German officer would so dislike American Marines when, chances were, he'd never met one.") Perhaps Ortiz was bored. Perhaps he......he excused himself from the table and returned to his apartment where....changed into the uniform of a U.S. Marine....he then shrugged into a raincoat and returned to the club....he ordered a round of drinks ... refreshments were served.... removed his raincoat and stood brandishing his pistol. "A toast, he said, beaming, respendent in full greens and decorations, "to the President of the United States!" As the pistol moved from German officer to German officer, they emptied their glasses. He ordered another round of drinks and then offered a toast to the United States Marine Corps! After the Germans had drained their glasses, the Marine backed out, pistol levelled at his astonished hosts. He disappeared into the rainy, black night. Colonel Peter Julien Ortiz: OSS Marine, Actor, Californian
Marine Barracks U.S. Operating Base, Londonderry Ireland Activated 12 May 1942 at Quantico VA with a Headquarters and 2 companies. Posted to Ireland April 1942, where it provided security for the Naval installation. Not an official patch as the barracks was not part of FMFPAC, it is, none the less, seen in photographic evidence as being worn by the Marines there.First Marine Brigade (Provisional) Activated 16 June 1941 and made up of the 6th Marine Infantry, and 2nd Bn. 10th Marine Artillery Regiment. Tasked to provide for the defense of Iceland with the British garrison. The patch, actually belonging to the British troops was authorized to the Marines as a courtesy, and became the first unit patch worn by the Corps in W.W.II. Unlike the additional unit patches which were to follow, this was worn on both shoulders as opposed to the other W.W.II patches which were worn on the left sleeve high, only.
OUTPOST IN THE NORTH ATLANTIC: Marines in the Defense of Iceland by Colonel James A. Donovan, U.S. Marine Corps (Ret) Outpost in the North Atlantic: Marines in the Defense of Iceland
[SIZE=-1]Shortage of organic motor transport in the Brigade forced it to depend upon the good will of the British or the U.S. Army for trucking personnel and supplies, or tactical mobility. The only trucks available in the Brigade were the one-ton artillery prime movers, as seen here, from the 10th Marines battalion attached to the Brigade. The bleak desolate quality of Iceland is evident.[/SIZE] [SIZE=-1]Department of Defense Photo (USMC) 185298[/SIZE]
[SIZE=-1]Passing in review in the activation parade of the 2d Marine Division are trucks of the 10th Marines carrying twin .50-caliber water-cooled machine guns on antiaircraft mounts of the type taken to Iceland by the 6th Marines later that year.[/SIZE] [SIZE=-1]Department of Defense Photo (USMC) 280-15-65[/SIZE]
[SIZE=-1]Mountainous landscape, glacier formations, and overall rugged and inhospitable terrain as below provided the background to the Marine camps set up in Iceland. Pictured here is a Nissen hut built by Marines after their arrival.[/SIZE] [SIZE=-1]LtCol Harold K. Throneson Collection[/SIZE]
Chapter 4: Marine Occupation of Iceland[SIZE=-1]1[/SIZE] "It has been said," wrote Winston Churchill, "'Whoever possesses Iceland holds a pistol firmly pointed at England, America, and Canada.'"[SIZE=-1]2[/SIZE] At the time of which he wrote, the "pointed pistol" threatened most immediately the British lifeline: the northern convoy route between Great Britain and the Western Hemisphere, upon which the island kingdom was dependent for most of the materials to sustain its war effort as well as much that was needed for its very subsistence. Iceland perched on the flank of these shipping lanes, which were under heavy attack by German submarines. Hostile air and naval bases on the island would almost certainly render the northern route unusable, and put pressure, perhaps intolerable pressure, on the longer and more vulnerable southern route. At the outbreak of the war Iceland enjoyed the status of autonomous parliamentary monarchy, sharing the same king with Denmark. When the Nazis overran the latter nation in April 1940, the Icelandic Parliament voted to take over the executive power of the Danish King and to assume control of foreign affairs. The strategic island became, for all practical purposes, a completely independent republic[SIZE=-1]3[/SIZE] -- and a wholly defenseless one without even the pretense of an army or navy. This state of affairs gave rise to considerable concern in London and Washington, more genuine concern than it caused initially among the insular-minded Icelanders. To the British the threat appeared very desperate indeed. Early in May they determined to occupy Iceland, and the need for speed and secrecy fused decision and action.[SIZE=-1]4[/SIZE] There was no time to stand on --35-- ceremony; despite Churchill's bland assertion the British occupation of Iceland was effected "with the concurrence of its people,"[SIZE=-1]5[/SIZE] they had, in fact, not been consulted beforehand. "As the attitude likely to be adopted by the Icelandic Government toward such an 'invasion' was in some doubt they were not informed of the proposed expedition."[SIZE=-1]6[/SIZE] Indeed the first inkling the natives had that anything out of the ordinary was afoot came when early-rising fishermen discovered a British destroyer nosing up to a jetty in the harbor of the island capital, Reykjavik. At 0620 on 10 May, a reinforced battalion of Royal Marines landed and occupied the town, moving so swiftly that it was able to seize the German Consulate before the hapless Consul could destroy his papers. According to plan, the Royal Marines were to take the situation in hand in order to pave the way for larger occupation forces. They were relieved in ten days by a Canadian Army brigade which was first reinforced and later replaced by British units. By the time Iceland began to loom large in U.S. defense plans, the big, bleak, sparsely-populated island was occupied by nearly 25,000 British troops. Hvalfjordur, a deep inlet of the sea 30 miles north of Reykjavik, became the site of a vital naval fueling and repair base, while the principal airfields, also near the capital, were home bases for squadrons of patrol bombers that hunted the German submarines.[SIZE=-1]7[/SIZE] As reverse followed reverse, however, the British increasingly felt the need for the return of their troops from Iceland to the home islands, seriously threatened with invasion and under heavy air attack. The prospect of British withdrawal caused some alarm among the Icelanders and led to diplomatic soundings of the American position. On 18 December 1940 the Icelandic Minister of Foreign Affairs, V. Stefansson, arranged a private meeting with the U.S. Consul General, Bertel E. Kuniholm. After firm assurances that his proposal was strictly unofficial, the minister suggested to Kuniholm that the United States might consider the possibility of declaring Iceland part of the area covered by the Monroe Doctrine, in effect join the island to the Western Hemisphere.[SIZE=-1]8[/SIZE] Kuniholm duly reported the tentative proposition to Washington and nearly a month later he received a cautious reply from the Secretary of State which advised him that no action was likely to be forthcoming in the near future but that he should neither encourage nor discourage further approaches along this line.[SIZE=-1]9[/SIZE] In unheralded American-British staff conversations which took place in Washington in the first months of 1941, plans were laid for Allied action in case the U.S. should be drawn into the war beside Britain. Under these plans the defense of Iceland was to become the responsibility --36-- of the United States; Army troops were to relieve the British as soon as practicable after the outbreak of war, but certainly no sooner than 1 September 1941, as the Army did not feel it would be ready to take on such a commitment until then.[SIZE=-1]10[/SIZE] But as the spring of 1941 wore on, American measures in aid of Britain, such as Lend-Lease and the progressive extension of the Neutrality Patrol into the mid-Atlantic, brought the U.S. closer and closer to conflict with Germany., Open and increasing support of the British seemed to suit the public mood; a survey of public opinion taken by the Gallup Poll in early May showed that an overwhelming majority (75%) of the American people favored helping Britain even if such a course was sure to lead the nation into war with Germany.[SIZE=-1]11[/SIZE] The stage was thus set for what one exhaustive study of this period has called an "overt act of participation in the European conflict."[SIZE=-1]12[/SIZE] By late spring Britain felt her back against the wall. Churchill asked President Roosevelt to send American troops to Iceland to replace the British garrison. The President agreed provided an invitation to the American occupation force was forthcoming from the Icelandic Government. Churchill undertook to produce this invitation, but the process proved more one of extraction than of production. Icelandic reluctance to "invite" a foreign force to occupy the island very nearly upset a timetable already in operation. On 4 June, the President ordered the Army to prepare a plan for the immediate relief of British troops in Iceland. The question of where the troops were going to come from arose immediately. Although the Army had reached a strength of nearly a million and a half men, the great bulk of its soldiers were raw recruits gathered in by Selective Service and recently called up National Guardsmen. Under existing legislation these men could not be sent beyond the Western Hemisphere unless they volunteered for such service. Equipment in nearly every category was in short supply, even for training purposes. The Army needed its comparatively small force of regulars to form cadres for new units. To withdraw these cadres for an expeditionary force would throw the whole immense training program out of gear. A review of the Army's immediate capabilities convinced the President that the Marine Corps would have to furnish the initial occupation force for Iceland. Since all Marines, both regular and reserve, were volunteers, there were no geographical restrictions on their use. On 5 June, Roosevelt directed the Chief of Naval Operations (CNO), Admiral Harold R. Stark, to have a Marine brigade ready to sail in 15 days' time. The organization of this brigade was facilitated by the fact that a reinforced infantry regiment slated for expeditionary duty was at that moment en route from the west coast to the east. At this time the Marine Corps was heavily committed to a program of organizing, equipping, and training two division, one on each coast. Since the infantry --37-- regiments of both divisions were still forming, they were considerably understrength, and it had been necessary to reinforce the east coast's 1st Marine Division when it was tabbed for a major role in a proposed landing operation. on 24 May, the Commandant drew on the 2d Marine Division at Camp Elliott, California, for the necessary regiment, and Colonel Leo D. Hermle's 6th Marines (Reinforced) was selected "for temporary shore duty beyond the seas."[SIZE=-1]13[/SIZE] The regiment was brought up to full strength by substantial drafts from the 2d and 8th Marines,[SIZE=-1]14[/SIZE] and on 28 May it joined its assigned reinforcing artillery, tank, and service elements. Six days after he received his orders, Colonel Hermle had his command combat loaded; the ships, three large transports and four destroyer transports, sailed from San Diego on 31 May. When it had embarked, this regiment had orders to report to the Commanding General, I Corps (Provisional), FMF, Atlantic Fleet. At that time, its most probable mission appeared to be either the seizure of Martinique or the occupation of the Azores, both discussed in the following chapter. Momentous events, however, were developing in Europe, and these served to change the whole pattern of the war, as well as the mission of the regiment. Both British and American intelligence indicated that Hitler was getting ready to attack Russia, and soon. Such an event would automatically cancel any immediate threat to Gibraltar and render the Azores venture pointless. President Roosevelt, in fact, ordered a suspension of planning for the Azores operation on 7 June, while preparations for the movement to Iceland proceeded apace. While the 6th Marines' convoy was still in the Pacific heading for the Panama Canal, the wheels were set in motion to complete the organization of the projected brigade. One other major unit, the 5th Defense Battalion at Parris Island, was designated for duty in Iceland; its commanding officer, Colonel Lloyd L. Leech, flew to Washington on 7 June for a two-day round of briefing and reports. The battalion's antiaircraft guns and gunners were what was wanted, so when the order assigning the 5th Defense to I Corps (Provisional) was published on 10 June the 5-inch Artillery Group was shown as being detached. In addition to the 6th Marines (Reinforced) and the 5th Defense Battalion (less 5-inch Artillery Group), the budding brigade received a company of engineers, a chemical platoon, and a platoon of scout cars from the 1st Marine Division at New River. The port for the hurried assembly of ships, materiel, and men was Charleston, S.C. The men of the 5th Defense Battalion had some inkling of their probable area of employment; Colonel Leech's warning order phoned from Washington on the 8th had directed that special attention be paid to provision of warm clothing. On board the 6th Marines' transports, however, speculation was rife that the regiment was heading for the Caribbean, perhaps for Guantanamo Bay, but more popular was the rumored destination of Martinique. When the convoy turned north after clearing the canal, passed the western end of Cuba, and headed for Charleston most of the "scuttlebutt" still held out for a tropical objective. Needless --38-- to say, the issue of winter clothing after the regiment arrived at Charleston on 15 June came as a real "shocker." The severely limited time to assemble and load out the Iceland force made this cold weather gear "the darndest collection of winter clothing ever assembled;"[SIZE=-1]15[/SIZE] there were bits and pieces of everything. On the day following the arrival of the 6th Marines in Charleston the 1st Marine Brigade (Provisional) was formally organized; its commander was Brigadier General John Marston. The troop list included: Brigade Headquarters Platoon Brigade Band 6th Marines 5th Defense Battalion (less 5-inch Artillery Group) 2d Battalion, 10th Marines Company A, 2d Tank Battalion (less 3d Platoon) Company A, 2d Medical Battalion Company C, 1st Engineer Battalion 1st Platoon, Company A, 2d Service Battalion 3d Platoon, 1st Scout Company Chemical Platoon On 18 June, General Marston arrived in Charleston from Quantico, bringing with him a small headquarters detachment and his instructions from the CNO for the operation of his brigade in Iceland. These orders dated 16 June, gave him a simple and direct mission: In Cooperation with the British Garrison, Defend Iceland Against Hostile Attack.[SIZE=-1]16[/SIZE] The question of over-all command in Iceland had, of course, risen early in the top-level negotiations. The British wished the brigade to be placed directly under their control since they had the major force on the island, but Admiral Stark thought that it would be going too far for U.S. troops, ostensibly neutral, to be placed under the command of an officer of a belligerent power. Marston's orders, therefore, read that he would coordinate his actions "with the defense operations of the British by the method of mutual cooperation,"[SIZE=-1]17[/SIZE] while reporting directly to the CNO. The brigade spent a week in Charleston, most of it devoted to loading supplies that arrived from camps and depots all over the eastern half of the U.S. The Army might not be sending any troops in this first contingent, but a good portion of the weapons and equipment that went out with the Marines was taken from Army units.[SIZE=-1]18[/SIZE] On 22 June, the last cargo that could be handled within the time limits set was loaded and at 0800 the four transports and two cargo vessels carrying 4,095 officers and men set sail for Argentia, Newfoundland. At sea a formidable escort force including battleships, a couple of cruisers, and ten destroyers joined up.[SIZE=-1]19[/SIZE] Five days out of Charleston, the convoy arrived at Argentia and hove to awaiting further orders. These orders were not forthcoming until 1 July, when the Icelandic reluctance to actually "invite" American occupation was finally compromised in a much-qualified statement by the island's Prime Minister to President Roosevelt that the presence of U.S. troops was "in accordance with the interest of Iceland."[SIZE=-1]20[/SIZE] This left-handed invitation was the go-ahead --39-- signal and the brigade was headed east by dawn on 2 July. The Marines were going with the blessing of Churchill who had written the President earlier that: I am much encouraged by ... your marines taking over that cold place and I hope that once the first installment has arrived you will give full publicity to it. It would give us hope to face the long haul that lies ahead.[SIZE=-1]21[/SIZE] The President made the desired announcement on 7 July as the convoy anchored in Reykjavik harbor, pointing out that the Americans were there "to supplement, and eventually to replace, the British forces," and that an adequate defense of the strategic island was necessary to ward off a potential threat to the Western Hemisphere.[SIZE=-1]22[/SIZE] A third, but unannounced, purpose of this American occupation was the acquisition of a naval and air base in Iceland to facilitate the prosecution of our antisubmarine war in the North Atlantic.[SIZE=-1]23[/SIZE] While the threat of German attack was always present, the likelihood of it happening steadily lessened as the year wore on.[SIZE=-1]24[/SIZE] On the day that the 1st Brigade left Charleston, Germany attacked Russia. Hitler repeatedly in the months that followed indicated that he wanted to avoid provoking the U.S. into war while he concentrated on the offensive in Russia. His submarine commanders were given orders to spare American shipping as much as possible, even though it had been publicly announced that U.S. Navy vessels were affording protection to British and Canadian ships that joined American convoys headed for Iceland. Still Hitler decreed that there would be no accounting for the submarine commander who sank an American vessel by mistake. Up until the actual U.S. entry into the war this partial immunity of American vessels from attack held good.[SIZE=-1]25[/SIZE][*] The fact that Hitler had decided to go easy on U.S. ships in the North Atlantic was naturally not known to American naval commanders. There was considerable pressure to get the brigade and its equipment unloaded in the shortest possible time and the convoy headed back for the States. This unloading proved an onerous task. There was little local labor. Marines had to furnish all working parties and the men toiled around the clock, helped not a little by the fact that at this time of year it was light 24 hours a day. Only two ships could be docked at Reykjavik at a time and the places beside --40-- the wharves were reserved for the cargo vessels which carried heavy equipment of the 5th Defense Battalion. The rest of the convoy rode at anchor in the harbor, while men and supplies were lightered ashore to a gently sloping pebble beach near the city. Early on 12 July the job was finished, the convoy sailed, and the Marines had their first real chance to look around them. They drew small reassurance from what they saw. The Icelandic landscape was something less than prepossessing, at least to men raised where soil produces vegetation and a tree is a tree. No trees above dwarf height grow in Iceland's rugged, mountainous terrain, and vegetation is limited to a little sheep pasturage on the comparatively flat stretches. It has been described as the most volcanic region in the world. Craters, many of them occasionally active, pick it surface, and lava flows lace across it. The most unpleasant thing about Iceland's weather is its very uncertainty; the mountains usually insure that the same kind of weather rarely exists simultaneously all over the island. Although the temperature range is moderate, the humidity is consistently high, and precipitation frequent but erratic. About the only constant is the assurance of steady winds, which may change abruptly to gale force.[SIZE=-1]26[/SIZE] The island is slightly smaller in area than Kentucky, but barely supported a population of about 120,000 at the time of the occupation. Along its 2,300 miles of jagged coastline were a number of small fishing villages; and except for the area around Reykjavik where there was a roadnet, all communication was by sea. The prim little capital boasted about 38,000 inhabitants, two movie houses, and one first class hotel; as a liberty town for nearly 30,000 British and American troops it boasted nothing. The only living things the island had in abundance were sheep and ponies,[SIZE=-1]27[/SIZE] and the Marines never developed a taste for mutton and were forbidden to ride the runt-sized steeds. Altogether, it was probably good for morale that the Marines did not know at this time that they were destined to see Iceland--and nothing but Iceland--for eight dreary months to come. Even before the first brigade unit set foot on shore, the Marines learned what the term "mutual cooperation" meant to the British. They could not have been more cordial, generous, and helpful. As the brigade was woefully short of motor transport, the British put more than 50 trucks at its disposal, together with drivers familiar with the region and the traffic problems peculiar to Iceland--and left them in the hands of the Marines for several weeks. They also furnished rations and turned over several of their permanent camps to the new arrivals, moving into tent camps to make room.[SIZE=-1]28[/SIZE] The enthusiastic reception by the British included a highly prized offer by their --41-- commander, Major General H.O. Curtis, to provide the Marines with the distinctive polar bear shoulder insignia of the British force. General Marston accepted for the brigade and noted later that: The mutual cooperation directive worked, to the entire satisfaction of the British Commander and the Brigade. The British compiled with our requests and we complied with theirs. It was as simple as that. A British commander less sympathetic than General Curtis might have upset the applecart but under that talented officer no incident of conflict occurred.[SIZE=-1]29[/SIZE] In their new camps the Marines made their first acquaintance with the Nissen hut, an introduction that was to ripen into familiarity that rarely reached the friendship stage. in the months to come the men of the brigade were to build and maintain roads and construct defenses; they were to become very practiced at the art of the stevedore; but most of all they were to become efficient builders of the ubiquitous Nissen hut. The hut itself "was an elongated igloo covered with corrugated iron roofing and lined with beaver board"[SIZE=-1]30[/SIZE] designed to accommodate about 14 men. It was possible to erect several huts in combination to accommodate larger numbers of men or for use as offices, mess halls, recreation rooms, and classrooms, For the first week ashore the Marines were fully occupied getting their camps established and then they were fitted into the British scheme of defense. Initially, the brigade's primary mission was to serve as a mobile reserve although its lack of transportation meant that most of its mobility would be dependent on foot power.[SIZE=-1]31[/SIZE] The various unites, which were spread out over a good part of the countryside around Reykjavik, were also responsible for local defense of their bivouac areas, a responsibility that grew to include long segments of coastline when the British units defending these possible landing points were later relieved. The machine guns and 3-inch guns of the 5th Defense Battalion were integrated into the British antiaircraft defenses around the airfield and harbor and remained a part of this system for the rest of the Marines' stay. As a result, the 5th Defense spent most of its time performing the duties for which it was constituted; its state of training was good and it improved as a result of a steady round of gun watches and drills and frequent though unproductive enemy aircraft alerts. In contrast, the men of the 6th Marines and its reinforcing units had reason to think that they were on one gigantic and never-ending working party, and the regiment labeled itself a "labor regiment" in its August report to General Marston. A welcome break form the steady grind of labor details occurred on 16 August when Prime Minister Churchill visited Iceland en route to England following his famous Atlantic conference with President Roosevelt. He was accompanied by an imposing array of high British rank: Admiral of the Fleet Sir Dudley Pound, First Sea Lord; General John Dill, Chief of the Imperial General Staff; and Air Chief Marshal Sir Wilfred Freeman, Vice Chief of Air Staff. After paying their respects to local officials, they attended --42-- a large joint British-American military review held in their honor. Of this event Churchill wrote later: "There was a long march past in threes, during which the tune 'United States Marines' bit so deeply into my memory that I could not get it out of my head."[SIZE=-1]32[/SIZE] The reason for the continuous round of camp construction was two-fold. First, somebody had to build the camps to accommodate the expected influx of Army troops; neither the British nor the Icelanders were in a position to do so. The process of simple elimination gave the Marines the job. Second, it soon became apparent that the Marines themselves were going to stay for a while and a good part of their time had to be spent preparing their own facilities for the onset of winter. A common, indeed, official, belief that the Marines were going to be relieved in September by Army troops held strongly for about a month after the brigade arrived in Iceland. There were numerous evidences that this was the intention of the top planners when the concept of the Marine Corps furnishing the initial occupation troops was first broached. By mid-August, however, it became evident that the Army would not be able to provide enough men to relieve the brigade and that the lack of readily available troops would make the role of those who did arrive one of reinforcement rather than relief. The British, who were supposed to return to their home islands, had to stay on to bolster the defenses. The crux of the Army's dilemma was the fact that not all of its men were available for assignment; "the passage of legislation in August 1941 permitting the retention in service of the selectees, Reserve officers, and the National Guardsmen still left the problem of restriction on territorial service--a problem which was to remain with the Army until Pearl Harbor brought a declaration of war."[SIZE=-1]33[/SIZE] There was really not too much trouble taking care of the first Army contingent to arrive, a small force of about 1,000 men built around a pursuit squadron and an engineer battalion. Their convoy made port on 6 August and the units, which came under Marston's command, moved into a camp set up for them by the Marines. However, preparations for the arrival of a second Army echelon of brigade strength due in mid-September meant that every Marine available had to turn to on camp construction. It was the difficulties attendant upon the raising of this second force that led to the decision to hold the Marines in Iceland.[SIZE=-1]34[/SIZE] The commander of the Army troops of the September echelon was senior to General Marston; according to the original occupation plan, the principle of unity of command was to hold in Iceland, and under it the senior officer present, regardless of service of origin, would have assumed operational control over all American troops. According to this concept, Army Major General Charles H. Bonesteel would simply have superseded General Marston and all hands would have carried on as before. But in the interim between June and September, the Army Chief of Staff, General George. C. Marshall, --43-- had decided that unity of command did not go far enough, at least as far as Iceland was concerned. He determined that if General Bonesteel was to have full responsibility for the American occupation, then he should also have full administrative as well as operational control over all the troops in Iceland. Such a transfer of the Marines from Navy control could be effected by executive order, as had been done by President Wilson in the case of the Marines serving in France in World War I. Unfortunately, from the Marines' point of view, this transfer involved a great deal more than a simple change of command. It brought them under the Army's administrative and disciplinary system which differed considerably from that of the Navy and with which they were unfamiliar. The Commandant, who had seen the system at work in World War I, protested vigorously. On 4 September he wrote Admiral Stark: The proposed change will not only necessitate a complete revision of this plan [unity of command] but would introduce many administrative difficulties, with no corresponding advantages in so far as command relations are concerned. A complete change of the administrative system would again be required then the First Marine Brigade is detached from the Army.[SIZE=-1]35[/SIZE] And again on 5 September: In view of the existing situation in Iceland and the probable nature of other operations to be conducted by the Navy elsewhere, the proposed plan has many undersirable ramifications. If carried to its logical conclusion, it will mean, at best, frequently shifting Marine units from the Navy to the Army and back again, with much administrative grief. It will probably change our concept of command relations in joint operations.[SIZE=-1]36[/SIZE] But it was a losing fight. Marshal stated that he had no intention of establishing a precedent and remained adamant. The Commandant did not learn of the proposed change until it was practically an accomplished fact, and the support he received from the CNO was lukewarm. The actual transfer of command took place on 24 September and General Holcomb was directed to report to the Secretary of War on all matters pertaining to the brigade.[SIZE=-1]37[/SIZE] The resultant administrative difficulties did not prove to be as bad as Holcomb and many others had feared. The change-over was more of an annoyance than it was a definite hindrance; after all, as one battalion commander commented later, "while administration difficulties may be bothersome they can be handled."[SIZE=-1]38[/SIZE] In the course of trying to master Army procedures, General Marston wrote the Assistant Commandant: They have a tremendous amount of paper work which the Marine Corps seems able to avoid. The barrage of force orders coming out of staff sections is appalling. Of course we are getting along all right but it will be months before we are oriented in the new direction. ... If the future developed another situation similar to that of this Brigade in Iceland, I hope that you will be able to have the transfer deferred with at least two months notice so that the officers concerned can get themselves oriented in preparation for the jump.[SIZE=-1]39[/SIZE] One of General Bonesteel's first acts as the Commanding General of the new Iceland Base Command was to send a letter of appreciation to the 1st Marine Brigade (Provisional) which extended his "sincere --44-- thanks for the splendid assistance [given] in the preparation of the various campsites and in numerous other ways prior to and during our arrival in Iceland. The amount of hard and extended labor involved is fully recognized and deeply appreciated."[SIZE=-1]40[/SIZE] The onrush of winter made it necessary for all troops to devote a good part of their time to camp maintenance and weatherizing. And as supplied continued to come in for the depots being built up near Reykjavik, working parties had to be provided to empty ships as well as to construct the storehouses needed to protect the equipment. Days rapidly shortened until there were only four hours of a sort of hazy daylight to accomplish necessary functions. With the continued requirements for camp construction and preparations for an arctic winter, the brigade was not able to conduct a satisfactory training program. Every possible opportunity was seized by unit commanders, however, to improve the state of readiness of their men. Many of the specialists, of course, like the communicators, engineers, and service personnel received considerable on-the-job training. While large-scale exercises were not possible, small units operated together as the press of construction allowed. In particular, a considerable amount of range firing of crew-served weapons was accomplished. When the 3d Battalion of the 6th Marines was moved to a camp too far away from Reykjavik to make it feasible to use its men for working parties, the commanders of 1/6 and 2/6 agreed to alternate in furnishing working parties "in order to get in a minimum amount of training."[SIZE=-1]41[/SIZE] The 3d Battalion, encamped in a pass that lay right in the path of winter winds howling out of the mountains near Hvalfjordur, was forced to "button-up" for the winter almost as soon as it shifted in September. The lack of adequate unit training has been emphasized by some critics of the Marines' employment in Iceland. Training do not stop; it was hampered and curtailed by the weather and the requirements of working details, but it did go on despite all the very real obstacles. The men, trained and indoctrinated as amphibious assault troops, however, were perturbed when they heard the news of Pearl Harbor while huddled around the stoves in their Nissen hits. Were they to be left forgotten in the wrong ocean? Once the war broke out in earnest the Navy, too, did not view with favor the employment of a Marine Brigade on a defensive mission in Iceland. The Marines were needed in the Pacific and pressure was put on the Army to get them relieved. Plans were laid to send a convoy with 8,000 men from New York on 15 January to provide the brigade's relief and return transportation. But, like so many previous false starts, this was not to be. Several of the ships in this convoy were diverted elsewhere and the resulting troop life was only enough to relieve one battalion. General Marston picked 3/6, which cheerfully turned over its wind-blown billets to the Army troops and embarked on 28 January. The battalion left Iceland on the 31st and reached New York on 11 February. A start had been made and the brigade began negotiations to turn over its camps, --45-- defense mission, and heavy equipment to the Army. The convoy carrying the final relief put into Reykjavik on 3 March, and the Marines began loading out the following day. At 1010 on 8 March, General Marston closed his CP on shore and opened it on board the USS McCawley; at noon that date the brigade returned to the jurisdiction of the Navy. It is interesting to note that this is the only instance in World War II where a Marine unit was "detached for service with the Army by order of the President." In the many joint operations that followed, all services adhered to the principle of unity of command. General Bonesteel recognized the Marines' dislike for the "detached service" concept but in a final letter to General Marston commended the brigade whose "every officer and enlisted man gave his whole hearted support and cooperation to our efforts to a much greater extent than mere compliance with instructions implied."[SIZE=-1]42[/SIZE] The brigade landed at New York on 25 March and was immediately disbanded. The 5th Defense Battalion was ordered to Parris Island, the 6th Marines to the Second Division at Camp Elliott, and the supporting units to their parent organizations wherever those might be. Thus passed into history an uncomfortable and at time frustrating mission, the military value of which was not clearly apparent at the time. The Marine Corps' expansion program in late 1941 and early 1942 was admittedly hampered by the absence of such a sizeable body of well-trained regulars and reserves. The brigade had relieved no appreciable number of British troops, which had been the original purpose of the American occupation. There is no concrete evidence that the Germans every seriously considered attacking Iceland, although it is conceivable, even if somewhat unlikely, that the knowledge of the presence of the brigade might have deterred such an attack. The military value of the Iceland occupation stemmed from rigorous service in the field. In the many scattered and detached posts, heavy responsibilities fell on the shoulders of the young company grade officers and NCOs. Adversity developed and strengthened leadership. Once the brigade reached Iceland there was a minimum rotation of officers and men. This stability of personnel gave the commanders an opportunity, seldom afforded in peacetime, to develop teamwork and unit esprit de corps. Upon return to the United States, almost all ranks received a promotion and all 8units of the brigade were drawn on heavily to provide leaders for newly activated units. The 6th Marines furnished large drafts to the raider and parachute battalions, as well as to units of the 2d Division. The military know-how, discipline, and qualities of leadership developed in Iceland were invaluable in providing cadres of experienced Marines around which to form these new units. As a result, the 6th Regiment, which sailed from San Diego for New Zealand in late October 1942, contained only a very small percentage of "Iceland Marines." The military wealth had been shared. HyperWar: History of USMC Operations in WWII, Vol. I: Pearl Harbor to Guadalcanal, Part I [Chapter 4]
Does anyone know of anymore special or weather specific. equipment that the Marines or even the Army used in Iceland ?
Herringbone Cloak--GI Dagger: Marines of the OSS by Major Robert E. Mattingly, USMC Marine Corps Command and Staff College 10 May 1979 HyperWar: Herringbone Cloak--GI Dagger: Marines of the OSS
Your first sentence is a misapprehension. During the 1940s, & since the 1920s the USMC combat units, the Fleet Marine Force, were equipped as combined arms units not "light infantry". Prewar the brigades of the FMF included a composite air group, a artillery battalion, engineers, and a armor squadron of armored cars and light tanks, as well as a logistics unit. The infantry component had more automatic weapons in its battalions than the US Army equivalent. The amphibious corps were larger versions of this. In stratigic terms the USMC combined arms organization was heavier in terms of fire power and transportation requirements than the US Army equivalent.
Woolen underwear. I'm fairly sure the stuff we were issued for cold weather training in the 1970s was identical.