It was late May 1968 when I was transferred into Fox Company, Second Battalion, Ninth Marines at Combat Base Ca Lu. I had been trained as a truck driver in the States, finishing at the top of my class and promoted to Private First Class a few months prior. My destiny changed because the Tet Offensive created the need for Infantry replacements.
My driving while at Fox Company was limited to the Mechanical M-274 "Mule." I drove all over the combat base developing favor with fellow squad members and was given the nickname "Motor T" to express their sarcastic sympathy. Now I was facing my first combat experience, Hill 512, as an innocent nineteen-year-old. Charlie Company had been hit and overrun by "sappers," NVA throwing satchel charges, creating a perceived mortar barrage. By the time the Marines figured out what was happening, another wave of NVA moved in, and a firefight followed inside their perimeter.
My squad members, Warner and Ricks, helped me figure out what to load into my pack, and how to assemble all the gear I would need as an ammo humper. I figured I carried somewhere around 105 pounds with flak jacket, helmet, rifle, and ammo included. Warner kept encouraging me; you'll get used to it. Joe Bell, the comedian, yelled, "Hey, Motor T, see how high you can jump."
Squad Leader Sandy yelled, "Move out!"
I felt like a deep-sea diver in slow motion, trying to keep up in a dream.
Be just like John Wayne, I thought to myself, as I stepped up the chopper's ramp, only to find I had the wrong chopper. "That one over there!" yelled Sandy.
I barely made it into the next waiting chopper without falling. It felt so good to sit until the chopper lifted and spun around for my first disorienting ride. Once we were airborne, all I could see out the window was jungle canopy. We didn't land in the way I expected a chopper would land. Because of the steep terrain, the chopper had to back in and lower the tail ramp against the side of the hill without touching the rear wheels to the ground. Everyone scrambled off the back end as I followed, hoping my John Wayne attitude wouldn't fail me now. The chopper didn't wait a heartbeat before it lifted off, the evening ground fog swirling like cotton candy into its rotors. I couldn't see anyone through the thick fog rolling in.
I shouted in a whisper, "Warner, where are you?" "Up here, Motor T," Warner whispered back.
Warner said, "Follow my voice." I couldn't tell where Warner's voice was coming from as I started having conversations with invisible people. I blurted out for help. "This shit is too heavy; I can barely move."
Sergeant Klein appeared out of the fog. "Get your ass up the hill, Marine!" Ugh! That was good for another twenty feet or so, where I bumped into Sandy and the rest of the squad being briefed on what to do. As the fog dissipated and the moon broke through, 
we were split up into twos to man the perimeter positions that were set up by the Marines we replaced. In the morning, we would be checking out the two-man sleeping holes. The other Marines had dug to look for booby-traps and places to hide or sleep. Warner stood the first watch with me to give me some understanding of sounds to listen for, and how to interpret what they meant. Warner was ready to crawl up to a sleeping area above; running out of patience, he told me to just listen for crickets. I was dying for a cigarette but didn't know what the consequences might be of lighting a match. I listened for crickets, rehearsing over and over what I would do if attacked.
The next morning came without any indications of activity around our perimeter, so we got on with settling into our new location. Most of the day was spent watching the choppers making regular supply deliveries on a flat area below and packing the supplies up the hill.
As the amber light of dusk began, everyone was hunkering down for a night of expectation. It was my turn for watch as the peek-a-boo moonlight cast moving shadows against the bamboo canopy before me. It was dead quiet, and in the distance, I heard a barely discernable crack-creak. I started pondering my options. I didn't want to wander over to the next hole and explain funny noises. The idea popped into my head: how about a grenade? I kept hearing what I thought were tennis shoes crunching leaves and twigs snapping off in the distance, barely perceptible. It must be down near Bell and Ricks. I rehearsed over and over, pulling the pin, letting the grenade spoon fly. I could count to four and have 3 seconds left before it went off. I had a picture memory from when it was still light out and could imagine where I wanted the grenade to go. I imagined the arc of the grenade getting over the bamboo and dropping right where I heard the noises. I couldn't figure out how to get the stupid cotter key out.
Let me try this damn cotter key again, oh shit; it fell out, and I have no idea where it went. I knew it was safe if the spoon was closed but wasn't going to sit there all night holding it. I used my mental picture of Bell's position and was positive; he would be okay. My heart was pounding so hard I could hardly hear myself think-okay-click there goes the spoon with a snap; I knew the trigger had hit the blasting cap starting the fuse train burning; 1001 - 1002 - 1003 - 1004; with everything I had I let it fly. I threw it like a heavy rock, not hardball style. The damn grenade was heavy. I heard the grenade banging into the bamboo and bouncing back and forth. It didn't go off in the air as I had planned; finding its way to the ground, there was a loud thud. WHAM!!!! Cool! I could see a bright flash made of white-hot metal flying all around where it had gone off. I heard Warner clambering over to me. "Jesus H. F-n Christ Motor T, what the hell are you doing?" Warner asked.
Bell, in the meantime, had scrambled over. With his heavy Brooklyn accent, he blurted out, "Are you try-in to F-ing murder us over-der, you almost put dat F-n ting in our lap; Jesus Christ Mutter Tae, now you woke everyone up and Sergeant Klein's on his way."
Klein let Sandy have it; then Sandy gave it to Joe. When I heard Joe being read out by Sandy, I stepped into the middle. "Hey, dammit, I heard movement!" I said.
"Shit, now you woke up the whole company, nobody will get any sleep; these guys are freaked out enough," Klein said. "I told you I heard movement!" I reiterated.
The Gunny stepped over to add his two cents, telling me I probably killed an F-ing rock-ape, and then blasted me with the "free-fire zone lecture." 
We were not supposed to fire unless fired upon. "Next time, come over to the CP and wake up Sergeant Klein before you decide to throw another grenade," Gunny told me.
Klein looked at Gunny - "aw shit Gunny!" Klein didn't want to be waked up, for any reason. Gunny retreated to his sleeping area.
Klein looked over at Bell. "If he wakes me up again, you'll be digging latrines the rest of your tour, Bell!"
Everyone went nighty-night at the CP and left me feeling stupid. But as had become the case, there was always the kind word from Warner and teasing from Bell. "Okay, Mutter Tae, you get two more watches for F-ing up."
There I was on my second watch hearing noises again, except I had no grenades. Joe Bell took them from me and said I could only get them back with good behavior.
"Hey Warner, I hear movement," I whispered. "What?" Warner replied in a sleepy voice. "I hear movement; come here!"
Warner scrambled over and listened. "I think you're right, Motor T. Go wake up, Sergeant Klein." "Me?" "Careful, he keeps his 45 loaded," Warner said with a grin.
I crawled over to Klein and tugged on his poncho liner, carefully watching the 45 he was sleeping on. Klein whispered. "What?" "It's Motor T," I whispered back.
"You again?" Klein grumbled. "Ah! You woke up the Gunny!" Klein scolded me. "What is going on?" Gunny whispered in a gravelly growl.
"Motor T's here, and thinks he's hearing things again," Klein explained.
The Lieutenant, "Firecracker Man Pierce," woke up, and hearing the conversation, inquired: "What's going on, Motor T?" "Sir, I hear movement below my position, and I need permission to throw a hand grenade."
Pierce was interested in what I had to say. "Let's go check it out, Motor T." Pierce followed me to my position, and by now, everyone on my side of the hill was awake. Pierce cupped his hand to his ear and gave hand signals to Klein to shut up, while Gunny rolled his eyeballs at me. The Lieutenant motioned to Klein and sent him to get a case of hand grenades. The Lieutenant popped out half a dozen or so grenades and told me to open them up. I was surprised when he handed me a grenade and motioned to get ready to throw in the direction he pointed. He nodded his head, and we let it fly. Wham- wham! Gunny and Sergeant Klein joined in throwing grenades, as we unloaded the case and finished throwing what we had. Wow, it sure is quiet out there now, we all agreed.
The next morning, I caught up with Joe Bell. "Hey Joe, we must have thrown nearly two cases of grenades last night," I proudly reported. "No kidding, we changed your name to "Motor T with a capital G," for grenade," Joe said, explaining we had everybody freaked out last night, convinced we were being overrun. "Next F'-n time pass the word before you start blowing up the side of the hill Motor T," Joe instructed.
Later that morning, the Lieutenant put together a recon team to look for bodies. Evidently, because of being a non-free fire zone, we had to justify the ordnance used by finding bodies. I just stood around while the Lieutenant and Big John, the Lieutenant's volunteer, were chopping holes in the dense canopy to make trails into the bamboo. We were standing around watching the show as I grasped my M-16, flak jacket, and helmet, trying to look like I knew what I was doing. Warner, Bell, and Ricks stood with me, providing color commentary.
Suddenly all hell broke loose, as the Lieutenant's pump-action over-and-under 12-gauge shotgun emptied. Big John opened on full-automatic with his M-16, while another guy opened 
with his M-79 grenade launcher. To me, it was like the noises from a comic book I used to imitate. The Lieutenant was running back toward the perimeter. Big John was right behind him, stepping backward while firing his M-16. Joe and Ricks started over to add firepower. I hesitantly followed Warner just as the Lieutenant stepped inside the perimeter and yelled, "Cease-fire!"
From the enemy's positions came five-round volleys of 82 mm mortars. We fired back around twenty 60 mm mortars at them. Then it became quiet. All the people in positions except me had emerged from protective cover and had begun milling around as if nothing had happened. I needed to be coaxed out of a sleeping bunker by Warner.
Most days could be amazingly boring, and some nights filled with sheer anticipation. Then there was the Man in the Moon, my friend, who could smile at me and light up my night with the remembrance of home. The same moon everyone at home was seeing; a comforting connection that touched my soul. My other escape was sleep and a space just before I awoke, in which I dreamed I was back home.
On the worst nights, the moon's light was totally obscured with layers of dark clouds, creating a sinister presence of opportunity. On such a night, we were probed at several locations at once. It was so dark that the only identifier was a familiar voice to follow while scrambling around on hands and knees.
Chaos broke out and Ricks told me to grab some illumination rounds. Warner showed me how to unwrap and lay the rounds out for Bell to drop in the tube. Ricks was free handing the tube, holding it without tripods and firing rounds directly above us. The illumination came down on small parachutes swinging back and forth, lighting the place up, followed by a whistling loud thud. The canister that contained the illumination function would break away and fall on us. As I scrambled to find my helmet, there were guys making a game of catching the parachutes to keep for souvenirs. We began pumping out HE, high explosive mortars toward Charlie's position, about 300 yards from us. C-130 Caribou airplanes above began dropping huge illumination canisters, causing the night to become bright as daylight. Firecracker Man called in a fire mission with artillery rounds neatly walked around our position, followed by a deafening silence. I returned to my position.
The silence was golden around me, the man in the moon, and my new friends, the rock apes, so-called because of their habit of throwing rocks. The NVA hunted them for food. We believed that the rock apes, or orangutans as they were known, could smell the NVA and be quiet. If they came near our perimeter looking for food, we knew there would be no NVA nearby. There was a stump of a burned-out tree near our position where I would put out crackers and a couple pieces of chocolate. The rock ape would come and sit on the stump and munch on the crackers and chocolate and stare, conveying it was safe.
The next day First Platoon went down on a search patrol. We got our tube set up and I waited dutifully by my pack board of mortar rounds, awaiting instructions whether to unzip the string around the canister holding HD rounds. There was yelling and chatter about the patrol walking into an ambush. Lt. Pierce gave orders to Sandy, and Ricks and Joe set up the mortar tube and began firing WP, white phosphorous rounds to confirm distance. Warner helped me attach increments, little booster charges fastened to clips at the base of the mortar.
My friend Doc Woody was with First Platoon, toward the rear of the column, when enemy machine-gun fire hit several men at the front. Woody heard the frantic call, "Corpsman up!" and crawled on his belly through elephant grass that was being mowed down by bursts of gunfire over his head. The first man he reached was Litzler. Litzler had been struck by a bullet through his chest and lay near death. Woody crawled then to "Buzz" Caldwell and found the bloody remains of a face. Woody went to work on Caldwell, hooking up an intravenous line to pump in a pint of plasma. Woody worked while on his stomach as machine-gun fire creased the back of his flak jacket. Then, as abruptly as all the craziness had started, it seemed to end.
Warner tapped me on the shoulder. "Move it, Motor T, follow me. We've got to help E-vac." The patrol was at the bottom of the hill as I stumbled and slid on the elephant grass. My eyes met the eyes of the lead man coming back from the ambush. I stepped closer to ask if I could help. He just said, "Oh no!"
The look in his eyes was haunting as I figured out he was dragging a body behind him. He had tied a poncho around the man's head with cartridge belt straps to drag the lifeless body. I felt paralyzed with helplessness.
Someone screamed. "Motor T get over here and help carry the Corpsman!"
It was Doc Woody. Woody showed me how to support the leg of the Corpsman shot in the kneecap. Woody's Corpsman friend was lying face down on a poncho to be used to carry him up the hill. Woody tried to assure him he was going home with the million-dollar wound. The injured Corpsman writhed in pain and screamed as the chopper landed at the top of the hill with its back door extended down. I couldn't keep his leg in the position that Woody showed me, because the side of the hill was muddy, and I kept slipping. With every slip of my foot, the Corpsman would scream louder.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," I couldn't stop saying.
He looked back at me with contempt as I stepped aside to let another man took over. I stood helpless as I watched him and the other seriously wounded being loaded into the chopper. Time stood still as I turned around and looked to find that I was the last guy at the bottom of the hill. I slogged and slipped my way up the hill and returned to my familiar space. Woody helped pull Caldwell's body up the hill to perform an emergency tracheotomy. Woody didn't have a scalpel or even a field knife. He pulled out a ballpoint pen and slammed it into Caldwell's throat to open an airway. Then he turned to Litzler, whose body had been carried up the hill. Woody pumped on his chest and breathed into his mouth to no avail. Nearby, Caldwell stood holding what was left of his jaw with a 4 x 4 battle dressing.
There was no priority chopper for the dead. Dead were placed into body bags and carried to a plateau fifty yard below. Litzler's friend sat close by the contents of the black bag, knees drawn to his chest. I could hear him talking as he sat with Litzler until another chopper came.
Lt. Pierce had another fire mission. We needed to mark where the bunkers were that the patrol had encountered earlier. I was unwrapping WP rounds then watch them being lobbed to nowhere. A small spotter plane flew around, firing rounds from a launching device on its wing into the same area we were firing at. I could see the pilot when he circled back around above me giving us thumbs up; we had the right target lit up. The next thing I knew, the Aerial Observer flew off into the distance and an F-4 Phantom came screaming in alongside the hill, firing his 20 mm cannons and dropping a serious load of bombs into the bunker complex area, to shouts of "Wahoo, get some!" Another jet came screaming by and dropped napalm, lighting up the whole jungle behind us. I didn't understand why they were using airstrikes now, and not before the patrol.
We were told it was time to leave Hill 512. Not knowing what we had accomplished nagged at me, but following orders was my duty. We had to fill in all our holes and clean up the perimeter, assembling the entire ordnance that we had used. It seemed to take forever for the choppers to show up, allowing the feeling of combat to sink in. I became busy making sure all my gear was squared away: my rifle cleaned, every magazine cleaned. I was overwhelmed by the reality of Hill 512. I sat on the edge of a bunker and Warner took my picture. The reflection on my face would be frozen in time. We loaded the first wave of helicopters with all the gear we had gathered and waited for our troop transport choppers to arrive.
We sat together waiting and finding a spark of playfulness still left in me, I pitched a little pebble at Warner. Warner, surprisingly, got really pissed as the others in the circle noticed, excitedly encouraging Warner to attack. As Warner began to rise, the anger building on his face was something unfamiliar. I just held up my hand in a gesture of surrender and looked at Warner and said "sorry." He sat down and said "yeah." We knew nothing further had to be said.
Dusk drew near as we heard our choppers approach. They backed into the hill one by one, blowing dust over the empty hill as they departed. Sunset's embers reflected off the valley floor as the moon peeked over the hills of Ca Lu. Under the glow from the Man in the Moon, Hill 512 began to fade to a bad dream.
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Admiral Chester William Nimitz contributed to the success of the United States Navy from his beginnings at Annapolis 1905 to this very day. His accomplishments, contributions, and 61 years of service led to advancements in command strategy, naval education, goodwill measures, and the engineering and building of gas, diesel, and nuclear engines for navy vessels - especially submarines.
His leadership during WWII won the war in the Pacific. On September 2, 1945, Nimitz signed for the United States when Japan formally surrendered on board the USS Missouri in Tokyo Bay.
Chester William Nimitz was born in Fredericksburg, TX in 1885 - six months after his own father's death.
His primary male role model was his hardy, sea-loving grandfather, who had been a German Merchant Marine, one of the first Texas Rangers, and a Confederate captain. His grandfather's experiences and advice were influential in the building of Nimitz's character and achievements. His grandfather told him, "the sea, like life itself - is a stern taskmaster. The best way to get along with either is to learn all you can, then do your best, and don't worry - especially about things over which you have no control."
His childhood home was the Nimitz Hotel in Fredericksburg, TX, which was built with the essence and elements of a ship so that Grandfather Nimitz would feel connected to the sea he missed so much. The young Chester had as his home and playground a ship's bridge and a pilothouse that looked out not over the sea, but out on the Texas hills.
Nimitz's first choice of school was West Point, and he applied at the age of 15. Unfortunately, there were no appointments available. On the advice of his Congressman, he studied hard for the one appointment available at Annapolis. He graduated from the Naval Academy 7th in his class of 114 in 1905. He had left high school to attend and did not receive a high school diploma until decades later when he was an Admiral.
By 1908, he was an Ensign that had served on four ships before running the fifth, the Decatur, aground on a sandbar in the Philippines. He was court-martialed and received a letter of reprimand.
A fast learner, he started instruction in the First Submarine Flotilla in January of 1909 and had command of the flotilla by May. He also had the command of the USS Plunger, the USS Snapper, and the USS Narwhal by November of 1910. By the end of 1911, he was Commander 3rd Submarine Division Atlantic Torpedo Fleet.
Over the next several years, Nimitz proved himself through several endeavors. In 1918, during WWI, he was appointed Chief of Staff to Admiral Samuel S. Robinson - the Commander of the Submarine Force, U.S. Atlantic Fleet - and was awarded a Letter of Commendation for meritorious service. That October, he was appointed a senior member of the Board of Submarine Design.
Throughout the 1920s and 1930s, he served on various naval vessels and was appointed the Chief of the Bureau of Navigation in 1939.
His classmates said of him that he was "a man of cheerful yesterdays and confident tomorrows."
On December 17th, 1941 (ten days after Pearl Harbor), Roosevelt promoted him to Commander in Chief, United States Pacific Fleet, with the rank of Admiral.
When the Pacific theater was divided into three areas of command in 1942, Admiral Nimitz was given command over all sea, air, and ground units of the Pacific Ocean Areas as their Commander in Chief.
Admiral Nimitz was victorious in the Battle of the Coral Sea, the Battle of Midway, and the Solomon Islands Campaign.
An Act of Congress in 1944 recognized his contributions and created the grade of Fleet Admiral, which would be the highest rank in the Navy and to which President Roosevelt promoted Nimitz the following day.
In 1945 he was named Commander in Chief of the United States Fleet. When Nimitz was first married, before WWI, he and his wife spent time in Germany and Belgium, where he was educated on the building of diesel engines. He used that training to build the diesel engines of the Maumee when he returned to the U.S., becoming the executive and engineer officer of that vessel. It was the first diesel engine used in a surface Navy vessel.
The Maumee, with Nimitz on board, was the first vessel to conduct underway refuelings. It served as a refueling ship for Navy destroyers on their way across the Atlantic during WWI.
While bolstering his education with naval command training at the Navy War College in the 1920s, Nimitz worked on a hypothetical plan for how to win engagements in a Pacific War. That plan was later used in the Pacific Theater during WWII.
Nimitz helped win the war with not only battle strategy, but maintenance plans - by creating forward repair stations and maintenance squadrons.
During WWII, he organized his single fleet into separate "staff" with supporting directives, so that while one did this, the other could do that. By having one staff commanding 
and the other planning upcoming assaults, the Japanese were continuously deluded into thinking the Navy fleet was much larger. This ingenious plan led to the future honing of command procedures.
Admiral Nimitz was the U.S. signer of the peace treaty with Japan after their surrender in WWII aboard the battleship Missouri.
His influence, expert knowledge of submarines, and support of Captain Hyman G. Rickover's proposal for a nuclear submarine led to the building of the first nuclear-powered submarine, the USS Nautilus.
He was the last officer to ever serve as Fleet Admiral. He was Chairman of the Presidential Commission on Internal Security and Individual Rights, a roving ambassador for the United Nations, the first professor of Naval Science at the University of California, a regent of the University of California, and in retirement was Special Assistant to the Secretary of the Navy in the Western Sea Frontier.
Admiral Nimitz submitted an affidavit to the Nuremberg Trials supporting unrestricted submarine warfare, which both he and German Admiral Karl Donitz had employed during the war. This affidavit may have been one of the reasons Donitz was only required to serve ten years.
He earned more awards and received more decorations than can be listed here. Roosevelt declared October 5th, "Nimitz Day." He was present for a parade in his honor on that day in 1945 and on October 17th, 1964, on "Nimitz Day" at the University of California.
Nimitz participated in fundraising to help restore the Japanese Imperial Navy battleship, the Mikasa, with the intention of restoring goodwill with Japan.
Nimitz is featured on a United States stamp, and several things have been named after him including ships, schools, foundations, museums, freeways, military institutions, hills, summits, a glacier, musical compositions, eight schools, and even the town of Nimitz, WV.
He died at home at age 80 on the evening of February 20, 1966, at Quarters One on Yerba Buena Island in San Francisco Bay. He was buried with full military honors at Golden Gate National Cemetery in San Bruno, CA. He lies alongside his wife and his long-term friends Admiral Raymond A. Spruance, Admiral Richmond K. Turner, and Admiral Charles A. Lockwood and their wives, an arrangement made by all of them while living.
Source: War History Online
In June of 1918, a fierce battle was waged at Belleau Wood, an ancient hunting-reserve of old-growth oaks, surrounded by wheat fields, located about 60 miles outside of Paris. The Germans were launching their spring offensive to overwhelm the Allies before they were fortified by fresh American troops. The Americans were arriving at a rate of about 250,000 per month. The Battle of Belleau Wood has since achieved near-mythic status in U.S. military history, particularly for the U.S. Marines.
Founded in 1775 during the American Revolution, the U.S. Marines Corps had a reputation for discipline, excellent marksmanship, and, as the Germans would find out at Belleau Woods, tenacity. During the Great War, they were also very young. A The New York Times article from July 1918 cites a report stating that 
"nearly one-third of the recruits obtained by the Marine Corps since the United States entered the war were under twenty-one years of age." The article goes on to quote Secretary of the Navy Josephus Daniels: "The policy of the Marine Corps in admitting boys of eighteen years and over into the ranks is more than justified by the heroic fighting by the Marines at Chateau-Thierry and Belleau Wood."
In the weeks of fighting at Belleau Wood, this heroism was demonstrated time and again. When met with retreating French troops who asked why the Americans were not also falling back, Capt. Lloyd Williams responded, "Retreat? Hell, we just got here." In the early days of battle, the Marines charged through the fields surrounding Belleau Wood and into German machine gunfire. As they struggled across the fields, their comrades falling around them, one gunnery sergeant cried out, "Come on, you sons of bitches! Do you want to live forever?" Once they were in the wood, the dense growth and intense fighting made the arrival of reinforcements, food, or medical care impossible. By the battle's end, 1,811 U.S. Marines had been killed, and another 7,966 were wounded.
Who were these men who fought so bravely and ferociously in Belleau Wood? One of the more well-known veterans of that confrontation was writer Laurence Stallings, who lost a leg at Belleau Wood. After the war, Stallings co-wrote the play, What Price Glory? In addition to his work as a critic and a screenplay writer, compiled a survey of the American Expeditionary Forces called "The Doughboys." Pvt. Albert McArdle of East Boston was awarded the Distinguished Service Cross for exceptional bravery in action. 
The Boston Daily Globe reported that Pvt. McArdle, "while dressing the wounds of a man in the front trench first aid station at Belleau Wood, was shot through both thighs, but as his patient was desperately in need of emergency care, he completed the work that saved the man's life before he staunched his own wounds."
Aside from these notable veterans, there are hundreds of others who were wounded and killed in that dense, dark forest in France. An article in The New York Times from July 26, 1918, claims that casualty lists given out the day before were "the heaviest for New York yet issued." It goes on to list those killed, wounded, and missing from Belleau Wood and other campaigns in the area. In reading the brief background of each fallen man, a deeper story beyond the statistics of war begins to take shape.
"He was a happy boy when he received a notification to go to Camp Upton," said Mrs. Alice A. Harper, mother of severely wounded Roland Harper of Brooklyn, NY, "He said at that time he was glad to get the chance to get a crack at the Kaiser."
Before he was killed in action, Gunnery Sergeant Gerald R. Finnegan of Boston wrote to his cousin that "the whistle of German lead sounds better than music." Another Marine killed in action, Corporal William Fanning, enlisted after he saw a "first-to-fight" Marine recruiting poster. According to an uncle, when Fanning's brother Patrick learned of his death, "he went out at once to find a Marine recruiting office."
Twenty-five-year-old John Enamenger, severely wounded at Belleau Wood, was drafted in the fall of 1917, "and did not claim exemption, although he had a 2-year-old daughter." 
The casualty lists that rolled in week after week printed the names of hundreds of other clerks, bakers, printers, factory workers, tailors, fathers, sons, and brothers.
Following the battle, the French renamed Belleau Wood "Bois de la Brigade de Marine" or "Wood of the Marine Brigade." In 1923, Belleau Wood was dedicated as an American Battle Memorial. After the American flag was raised, Marshal Ferdinand Foch, the Supreme Allied Commander during the final year of WWI, was reported to have "tears rolling down his cheeks" as he assured the gathered relatives of the American dead that "the men who died here are safe; they will be guarded by us religiously." Maj. Gen. James G. Harbord, commander of the Marines, spoke as well: "This scarred and shell-shot ground has brought undying fame to the Marine Brigade and their comrades of the Second Engineers."
The Civil War profoundly shaped the United States as we know it today. Nevertheless, the war remains one of the most misunderstood events in American history. Here are ten basic facts you need to know about America's defining struggle.
The Civil War was fought between the Northern and the Southern states from 1861 - 1865
The Civil War, also known as "The War Between the States," was fought between the United States of America and the Confederate 
States of America, a collection of eleven southern states that left the Union in 1860 and 1861 and formed their own country to protect the institution of slavery.
Jefferson Davis, a former U.S. Senator and Secretary of War, was appointed President of the Confederate States of America. The United States thought that the southern states were wrong to leave the Union and initiated a war that raged across the country for four years. In 1865, the United States defeated the Confederate States and abolished slavery nationwide.
Abraham Lincoln was the President of the United States during the Civil War
Abraham Lincoln grew up in a log cabin in Kentucky. He worked as a shopkeeper and a lawyer before entering politics in the 1840s. Alarmed by his anti-slavery stance, the southern states seceded soon after he was elected president in 1860. Lincoln declared that he would do everything necessary to keep the United States a united country. He refused to recognize the southern states as an independent nation, and the Civil War erupted in the spring of 1861.
On January 1, 1863, Lincoln issued the Emancipation Proclamation, which freed the slaves in the southern states and laid the groundwork for slaves to 
eventually be freed across the country. He narrowly won re-election in 1864 against opponents who wanted to sign a peace treaty with the southern states.
On April 14, 1865, Lincoln was assassinated by John Wilkes Booth, a southern sympathizer.
Before the United States was formed, many different civilizations existed on the American continent.
Native Americans have lived in North America for more than 12,000 years. Around 400 years ago, people from the Netherlands, England, Spain, and France arrived in North America and began to establish small, independent colonies. These different civilizations traded, mixed, and fought with each other.
In 1789, they united and formed a common government based on an agreement known as the Constitution. Many considered the Constitution to be a non - binding agreement: they believed that the different civilizations, now called "states," could leave the common government at any time they chose.
The issues of slavery and central power divided the United States.
Slavery was the law of the land, north, and south, until the early 19th century. It was concentrated in the southern states, where slaves were used as farm laborers and formed the backbone of the southern economy. In the northern states, where industry drove the economy, many people believed that slavery was immoral and wrong. Southerners felt threatened by these northern "abolitionists" and claimed that the common government had no power to end slavery against the wishes of the states.
Eventually, southerners became convinced that the common government would attempt to abolish slavery nationwide. Eleven states left the United States in the following order and formed the Confederate States of America: South Carolina, Mississippi, Florida, Alabama, Georgia, Louisiana, Texas, Virginia, Arkansas, North Carolina, and Tennessee.
When the southern states seceded from the Union, there were still a few forts on southern soil that were manned by United States soldiers. Rather than surrender the forts, President Lincoln attempted to resupply the soldiers by sea. The Confederacy learned of Lincoln's plans and demanded that the forts surrender under threat of force. When the U.S. soldiers refused, South Carolinians launched a bombardment of Fort Sumter in the Charleston harbor. After a 34 - hour battle, the soldiers inside the fort surrendered to the Confederates. Legions of men from north and south joined with their leaders to protect their interests.
The primary interest of the north was to maintain the United States as a single, undivided country. The primary reason for the south seceding from the Union was to protect the right to own slaves.
The North had more men and war materials than the South.
At the beginning of the Civil War, 22 million people lived in the North, and 9 million people (4 million of whom were slaves) lived in the South. The North also had more money, more factories, more horses, more railroads, and more food.
These advantages made the United States much more powerful than the Confederate States. However, the Confederates were fighting defensively, and their soldiers and generals frequently proved to be more skilled than their northern counterparts, allowing them to mount a stubborn resistance to the United States.
The bloodiest battle of the Civil War was the Battle of Gettysburg, Pennsylvania.
The Civil War devastated the Confederate states. The presence of vast armies throughout the countryside meant that livestock, crops, and other staples were consumed very quickly. To gather fresh supplies and intimidate the United States, Confederate General Robert E. Lee launched a daring invasion of the North in the summer of 1863. He was defeated by Union General George G. Meade in a three-day battle near Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, that left nearly 52,000 men killed, wounded, or missing in action.
Many historians mark the Battle of Gettysburg as the "turning point" in the Civil War when the South began to lose.
After the battle, President Lincoln delivered the Gettysburg Address, which expressed a firm commitment to preserving the Union and became one of the most famous speeches in American history.
The North won the Civil War.
After four years of conflict, the last major Confederate armies surrendered to the United States in April of 1865. The war bankrupted the South, left its roads, farms, and factories in ruins, and all but wiped out an entire generation of men.
More than 620,000 men died in the Civil War, more than any other war in American history. The southern states were occupied by Union soldiers, rebuilt, and gradually readmitted to the United States over the course of twenty difficult years, known as the Reconstruction Era.
After the war was over, the Constitution was amended to free the slaves, to assure "equal protection under the law" for American citizens, and to grant black men the right to vote.
The southern states seceded to prevent the abolition of slavery. During the war, Abraham Lincoln freed some slaves and allowed freedmen to join the Union Army. It was clear to many that it was only a matter of time before slavery was fully abolished.
As the war ended, but before the southern states were re-admitted to the United States, the northern states added the 13th, 14th, and 15th amendments to the Constitution. The 13th Amendment abolished slavery, the 14th Amendment guaranteed that citizens would receive "equal protection under the law," and the 15th Amendment granted black men the right to vote. The 14th Amendment has played an ongoing role in American society as different groups of citizens continue to lobby for equal treatment by the government.
Many Civil War battlefields are threatened by development.
The United States government has identified 384 battles that had a significant impact on the larger war. Many of these battlefields have been developed - turned into shopping malls, pizza parlors, housing developments, etc. - and many more are threatened by development.
Since the end of the Civil War, veterans and other citizens have struggled to preserve the fields on which Americans fought and died.
The Civil War Trust and its partners have preserved tens of thousands of acres of battlefield land.