The Daring Dozen (12 page)

Yet despite the impassioned address of Evans Carlson the 2nd Raider Battalion never saw action again. The following month the Marines decided to incorporate the unit into the new 1st Marine Raider Regiment under the command of Lieutenant Colonel Alan Shapley, a far more conventional officer than Carlson, who was ordered back to the States to recover from the effects of disease and exhaustion. While Carlson was recuperating, Hollywood released
Gung Ho!
, a motion picture based on the exploits of the 2nd Raider Battalion. Randolph Scott portrayed Carlson, and while the film was a box-office hit it further alienated its real-life star from the Marine Corps, who bristled at the attention lavished on their maverick comrade. As a result Carlson never again commanded troops in battle, and when he retired from the Corps he did so a bitter and disillusioned man, yet one who was held in the highest regard by the men who served under him in the 2nd Raider Battalion.

Evans Carlson was born in Sidney, New York, on 26 February 1896, the son of a New England minister. Like Orde Wingate, the founder of the Chindits, Carlson grew up in a household where the influence of religion was pervasive to the point of being restrictive to his development as a young man. And just as Robert Frederick of the 1st Special Service Force fled the nest as soon as possible to escape his overbearing mother, so Carlson sought a route away from the religious doctrine of his father – however he bore for the rest of his life a deep and abiding respect for the gospel.

Carlson went to work on a farm at the age of 14, and then had a spell as a railroad worker before, in 1912, he enlisted in the US Army, adding five years to his age to meet the minimum requirement of 21. After basic training Carlson was sent to the Philippines and for three years endured a series of exotic if ultimately unexciting postings. He showed aptitude, however, for the military life and by the time he was 19 he had risen in rank from private to sergeant major. In April 1917, when the United States declared war on Germany, Carlson was commissioned a second lieutenant and posted to the 13th Field Artillery Regiment.

Even at such a young age Carlson displayed an unorthodoxy in his views on leadership that was fostered as much by his independent spirit as by his avid reading of philosophical tracts by authors such as Ralph Waldo Emerson. In a letter to his father, Carlson explained that ‘I love my men but I must keep them working. When the work is over, I must see that they have some recreation. I must always see that they have sufficient food and shelter wherever it is possible. I will lead a man, if he will be led. But I’ll get him where he’s got to go, even if I have to drive him. I never ask a man to do something I won’t do myself.’
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Carlson’s idiosyncratic leadership style drew comment from his fellow officers but did not prove a barrier to promotion; in 1918 – still only 22 – he was promoted to captain and assigned to the 334th Regiment. But before his unit reached France to participate on the Western Front, Germany sued for peace and the Great War ended.

Despondent at missing the chance to test himself in battle, Carlson resigned his commission in 1919 and tried to make a name for himself in business. But he missed the military life and in 1922 re-enlisted as a private in the Marine Corps. Within three weeks he was a corporal and in 1923 Carlson was once more an officer, a second lieutenant stationed on the west coast of the United States.

His first overseas posting was to China in 1927, a country for which Carlson developed a strong affinity that endured all his life, but it was in the Central American country of Nicaragua that Carlson first began to develop as an exponent of guerrilla warfare. He arrived in Nicaragua in May 1930 to command a local militia force called the Guardia Nacional in the face of terrorist attacks from the rebel army; when he left Carlson had won a Navy Cross for his courage in confronting the enemy, as well as gained five guiding principles that formed the cornerstones of the 2nd Raider Battalion.

Like David Stirling in North Africa, Carlson recognized that in inhospitable terrain – in his case the jungle of Nicaragua – small units of highly trained men were much more effective in confronting the enemy than an entire regiment. Secondly, superior firepower rapidly deployed would always demoralize the enemy. It was important, too, to have men under his command who were not afraid to seize the initiative and think for themselves, and this combined with his fourth tenet – to always keep moving – produced men who were swift in thought and action. Lastly, Carlson came back to the point he had explained to his father in the letter a decade earlier: to look after the wellbeing of the men under his command.

Upon his return from Nicaragua Carlson was posted to Warm Springs, Georgia, where he formed part of Franklin Roosevelt’s protection guard. Despite the fact Carlson was only a junior officer he formed a friendship with the American president that was to endure for the rest of their lives. It was an imbalanced friendship; Carlson idolized Roosevelt and enjoyed the thrill of having the ear of one of the world’s most powerful men. The bond between the two men was noted by other Marine officers and did little to endear Carlson to his peers. In 1937 Carlson was posted back to China as a military observer on the war between the Chinese and Japanese, a conflict that was in its seventh year. Roosevelt asked Carlson to write personally to keep him updated on developments.

Carlson learned much from the Chinese communists. Mao Tse-tung expounded his philosophy, and one of his generals, Chu Teh, taught Carlson much about his military beliefs and the best way to fight the Japanese, even inviting the American officer to accompany his men into the field. What struck Carlson most about his time with Mao’s army was its democracy: officers shared the same hardships as their men and involved them in decision-making. Writing of his experience to Roosevelt, Carlson said: ‘Before a battle the men are assembled and the military situation is explained to them so that they go into the battle with their eyes open. They are told the possibilities of victory, the consequences of defeat. The result is a strong bond of understanding between leaders and fighters.’
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While Carlson was in China he received a visit from the American author Agnes Smedley, who was in the country to learn more about communism. She was impressed by Carlson and described him as ‘one of those dangerous men of lean and hungry look. He’s a throwback from our own distant revolutionary past – a mixture of Tom Paine, John Brown – with a touch of Lincoln. But all of him is New England – craggy and grim in appearance, yet kindly and philosophical.’
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Not everyone was so enamoured of what Carlson was doing in China, and a candid report of his on Japanese ambitions in the Pacific resulted in rebukes from both Japan and the US Navy, which did not wish to upset Japan. Infuriated by the attitude of his superiors, Carlson resigned his commission in April 1939.

When America declared war on Japan on 8 December 1941, Carlson had been back in the Marines for eight months with the rank of major. He still had his vocal critics within the Corps but he still also retained the ear of President Roosevelt.

In the weeks immediately after the declaration of war, Roosevelt was desperate for a way in which to strike back at Japan and show the American people that they would take the fight to the enemy – as the Japanese had done in such devastating style at Pearl Harbor. When Roosevelt read a memo written by Colonel William Donovan, chief of the Office of the Coordinator of Information, in which he recommended establishing a commando-style unit similar to those formed by the British 18 months earlier, Roosevelt embraced the idea with alacrity.

With the Pacific Fleet in ruins and the factories not yet capable of producing the requisite machines and arms to launch a major attack against Japan, Roosevelt saw a small unit of Special Forces troops as the perfect way in which to take the offensive to the enemy. Simultaneously Carlson was trying to draw the military’s attention to his own belief in the efficacy of guerrilla warfare against the Japanese, and eventually he did so through his connections to the Roosevelts. Not only was Carlson on friendly terms with the president but he also knew well his eldest son, James, who at 34 was still searching for a role in his life. James Roosevelt had worked for William Donovan in 1941 and it was James who helped promote Carlson’s idea for a Special Forces unit in a paper entitled
Development within the Marine Corps of a Unit for Purposes similar to the British Commandos and the Chinese Guerrillas.

Despite the resistance of several influential Marine Corps officers, who still viewed Carlson with distrust after his open support for the Chinese communists and his subsequent resignation, the idea won the wholehearted support of President Roosevelt. On 23 January Carlson received authorization to form a Special Forces unit capable of carrying out attacks against Japanese targets; a month later the unit was designated the ‘2nd Marine Raider Battalion’.
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British Prime Minister Winston Churchill was delighted when he heard the news in early 1942. By this stage of the war Britain’s Special Forces – the Commandos, the Special Air Service and the Long Range Desert Group – had been successfully operating against Axis forces in North Africa and Western Europe and he wrote to Roosevelt to tell him: ‘Once several good outfits are prepared, any one can attack a Japanese-held base or island and beat the life out of the garrison, all their islands will become hostages to fortune. Even this year, 1942, some severe examples might be made causing perturbation and drawing further upon Japanese resources to strengthen other points.’
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Carlson’s first appointment was Captain James Roosevelt as Executive Officer of the Raider Battalion, even though the president’s son was physically weak and suffered from flat feet that in normal circumstances would have precluded him from active service. Nonetheless Roosevelt wanted to serve, with the reluctant approval of his parents, and Carlson knew the benefit of having such a man in his outfit.
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With Roosevelt on board, Carlson embarked on a recruitment programme for his nascent unit that he envisaged would be ‘flexible, mobile, possess the maximum fire power commensurate with great mobility and be composed of men physically capable and mentally conditioned to endure the hardships and overcome the obstacles necessary to accomplish the mission. It follows, therefore, that the personnel must be volunteers for this type of work and that they must be trained, conditioned and indoctrinated for this particular type of work.’

Carlson got his 500 volunteers from the Marine bases near San Diego; they represented a broad cross-section of American society, from city boys to farm hands, from high school dropouts to Grade A students. Their overriding motivation was similar to that of the early volunteers for David Stirling’s SAS – boredom and a thirst for adventure.

The recruits were split into four companies and sent to the unit’s training camp at Jacques Farm in California, but before they began their training the men were addressed by Carlson. He explained that ‘the Jap is a wily and rugged enemy, experienced in hardships. And so I can promise you nothing but the toughest life while we’re in the States and the toughest battles when we’re overseas.’ For men who already considered themselves part of the military elite it was a stirring introduction to their new unit, as was the disclosure of their battle cry – Gung Ho!
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The training that followed was intense. Each day the men rose at 0430hrs and endured several hours of exhausting exercise, including route marches through the countryside, strengthening exercises such as giving a buddy a fireman’s lift over 50 yards, and thousands of press-ups and sit-ups. Soon the men could cover seven miles in one hour carrying a full pack.

In addition the men were schooled in navigation, demolitions and sharpshooting, and there were lectures and practical demonstrations in all aspects of jungle warfare, including water discipline and tropical diseases. ‘As training proceeded self-confidence grew,’ wrote Carlson. ‘There was little cockiness. These men were bent on whipping an enemy who sought to destroy the democratic way of life they hold dear.’
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Democracy was a prominent theme in the Raiders’ training. Carlson implemented a similar philosophy to that which he had witnessed in China during his stay with the communists. The men and the officers bedded down together, queued for food together at mealtimes and cleaned their equipment together. There were no special privileges. ‘My first step was to abolish all social distinctions between officers and men,’ explained Carlson to the
Reader’s Digest
in 1943. ‘There must be obedience, of course. That was the cornerstone of everything. But I told my officers they must command by virtue of ability. Their rank meant nothing until they had proved their right to it.’
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Each week Carlson held ‘Gung Ho!’ meetings in which officers and men could speak their mind. The meetings began with the commanding officer greeting his men with a cry of ‘Ahoy, Raiders!’, to which came the response ‘Gung Ho!’ Once points had been raised or grievances aired, the meeting ended with everyone singing the National Anthem.