The short version on my USMC career is that, in my time there (mid1943-mid1946), the Marine Corps did a lot more for me than I was able to do for the Marine Corps. There were some experiences along the way that stay in my mind and are perhaps of interest to friends and family who have been a part of my life in the following 60 or so years.
It began when the Marine recruiter in Minneapolis said “Yes we’ll take you, lad, if you pass the physical”. The alternative was to be drafted into the army — somehow I had been given deferments until I finished college in June 1943 and, incidentally, got my U.S. citizenship papers. The circumstance that made this necessary was that my father, who came from Norway in 1890 at age 17 had taken his education and seminary training over some 20 years in the U.S. but never thought about citizenship because that was of little importance at that time. After seminary training he was ordained by the Norwegian Lutheran Church of America and accepted a call as a missionary to China. Except for furlough years and other trips to the U.S. he remained in China until his death in 1951 en route from China to the U.S. after release from Japanese internment in China during WW II. He never stayed enough consecutive years in U.S. to qualify for citizenship so I was nominally a Norwegian rather than American until I was “naturalized” in 1943.
My first Marine Corps assignment was to be in charge of the contingent of some 10 or so Marine recruits from Minnesota and make sure they all arrived at the Marine Corps Recruit Training Center in San Diego. I was given tickets and transfer papers to change trains in St. Louis plus chits for food for each person en route. I had no idea why the Minneapolis Recruiting Office chose me to be in charge of the group. I also had some concern about my charges’ visits to the bar at the St. Louis RR depot but every man showed up respectable and on time to board the train for the long run from St. Louis to San Diego.
Much has been written about rigors of the three months of military “basic training”, especially as it applies to Marine recruits. At the time I went through basic in 1943, the Marine Corps was still all volunteers but was receiving what they perhaps considered the “bottom of the barrel” trainees. My platoon which was together for the full three months and had some semi-delinquent 18 year olds from south Chicago plus a number of “hill billy types” from Arkansas, Mississippi etc. There were some “old” age 30 plus school teachers and other professionals who decided to get in some military service time before the war was over. Among us was an army sergeant who knew all the ropes of military life and walked away with most of the awards given to the platoon;s best performers in various military skills. platoon’s awards for military capabilities.