Memoirs of 2dLt W. B. Jackson, USMC
MARE ISLAND
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Jack and I left Denver on April 15th arriving at Vallejo, California on April 18th. While waiting for the government ferry across to Mare Island Jack and I were hailed by a Navy small boat whose crew went all out to get us to ditch the Marine Corps and go in their boat to their cruiser and ship in the Navy. Lucky we did not-it was the San Diego later sunk off the English coast. We went on over to the Marine Recruit Depot and were quartered in the Basement of the new cement Barracks. Here we stayed until the following Monday-a little physical exercise-chow-but mostly loafing. Then of April 23rd we were called into the office and duly sworn into the Marine Corps and assigned to our new training platoon on the second floor of the same new cement barracks. The next day came clothes issue and to set up Marine Corp house keeping and we were in. Our pay was $11.80 per month-$12.00 less 20 cents hospital benefit.
Most of the N.C.O.s in charge of us recruits were old time Marines-many veterans of Marine Corps island activities. While very strict they were always fair and square with us. Our senior NCO was a Sergeant Monroe who took almost a fatherly interest in the progress of each of us. The recruits were all of a high stripe. For example a special train came in about that time from Minnesota including practically all of the University of Minnesota football team. In all they brought 250 men. All fine fellows. Our barracks were brand new, all modern and completely clean. Our view from our second floor was lovely- we were about 100 yard from the water of San Francisco harbor.
We settled down at once to a strict boot camp routine-reveille at about 5:45 a.m. and the hours in between incessant drill, exercise etc. We quickly got in physical condition and the stresses were enjoyable. After a short time we were allowed liberty after Saturday morning inspection until reveille Monday. We could take the ferry from Vallejo to San Francisco, a trip of about an hour. San Francisco offered every attraction one could want- if he had the money to pay for it which most of us didn't. But there were also many free attractions. I remember our first try was a California restaurant strawberry short cake. A kind of Strawberry goo between two layers of cake but no real strawberries. What a come down from what Mom used to make.
During our stay here we saw out first German manpower, internees from the German Navy ship Cormorant. They used to pass us in the field on their exercise walks followed by a Marine guard. It was surprising to note they looked just as human as anyone else-not demons.
Along in June our platoon and one or two others were invited up to Sonoma Calif. to stage a military display in connection with the dedication of the black Hawk Cutoff. We got by but it was touch and go. We had been assigned a new young Lieutenant who had never commanded troops-had a high falsetto almost no understandable voice and us green recruits. Afterwards, Jack and I had a chance to visit the historic sites there, left from the days of Gen. Vallejo and the Bear Republic of California. Very interesting.
About this time, we spent a week or two on the rifle range. Jack qualified as a sharpshooter-I barely managed to make qualification, marksman. However, this meant an extra $3 per month for Jack and $2 per month to me. Our boot camp routine was largely uneventful-hard work and monotony. Many fights of personnel were avoided by a regulation that you couldn't have a private fight-you had to go to the gym, put on gloves and meet before the "public" with a referee and there fight it out. No draws-suffice it to say most differences never got to the fight stage.
About the 21st of June 1917 we were graduated from boot camp to full duty status and assigned to the 30th Co. of marines on Mare Island. This company was the former California Marine Militia and was composed almost completely of men from in and around Los Angeles. Enough of us boots were assigned to bring the Company up to war strength. Jack was particularly happy as he had lived some years in L.A. and knew some of the men and the Company commander from school days there. Whether due to the origin of the men or what, the company was ordered transferred in a very brief time to San Diego as it duty post. We went down by special train from Vallejo to San Diego where our company was billeted in a tent city on a rise in the ground above the gate. Jack and I had a two bed tent to our selves and felt very comfortable. It was really a home. Two hours drill each morning with liberty from noon chow to 5:45 a.m. the next day unless a guard detail or work unit occurred. Saturday, liberty from Saturday noon until Monday morning. I had an Indian motorcycle stored in Denver and arranged to have it shipped out to San Diego. Jack bought one there and we had many interesting ride in and around San Diego although the roads outside the city were all gravel. The water of the harbor reached almost to the Santa Fe tracks and depot. The present Navy and Marine Corps installations are largely on filled ground.
Very shortly, due to his former residence in L.A. Jack began spending more and more weekends there. I fell back on the young folks group in the Methodist Church and spent most of my spare time with that group. For a military post in a country at war ours was really almost home. Good chow-good quarters-much spare time, -a beautiful climate-lovely people and beautiful Balboa.
During the summer I had the Asiatic flu and was in sick bay quarters for a week or so. Even here everything approached perfection.
Too good to last. Toward the end of the summer I got caught on a battalion work detail. The battalion police sergeant was a red haired gunnery sergeant with a temper and disposition to match his hair. Our first chore on a Saturday morning was to unstop and clean out the drainage pipe from the floor of the mess galley. Apparently the cooks had dumped a big mess of beans into the sewer and they didn't float away. The police sergeant put me in charge of the work crew and told us when we got the pipe cleaned out and flushed and the kitchen deck scrubbed down we could take liberty and "go ashore". Well we spent the afternoon fishing beans out of the pipe with wires and finally it cleaned out and flowed. We scrubbed down the deck, watched the scrub water flow out the pipe and went on liberty.
The next Monday morning our detail was on report to the Colonel for failing to carry out our Saturday orders. The red haired gunnery sergeant was there telling the Colonel that when the cooks went in the galley Sunday morning the pipe was stopped up and water was standing on the deck. I learned later that the cooks had again thrown more food-stuff in the drain which had caused the new stoppage. The Colonel bawled us out and then asked if we had anything to say. Never having been particularly timid I said, "Yes Sir." He told me to speak up. I told him just what had happened Saturday afternoon-the rest of the detail backed me up. After telling us in the future to avoid the very appearance of disobeying orders the Colonel turned us loose. As a side matter of interest, while I was on duty in WWII I was eating breakfast in a hotel in Colorado Springs and a one armed gentleman came over and asked to share my table. It turned out he was an ex-marine-had lost his arm during WWI-had been a gunnery sergeant at San Diego in 1917-and, would you believe it, he was the chap who had put us on report.
At the time I was very much provoked by the episode and decided that such "peace time" duty was not what I had wanted. I took the inadvisable step of writing a letter of complaint to our recruiting office, Captain Guggeneim. I effect I told him that Jack and I had shipped in the Marine Corps to fight for our country in France and not to fish beans out of a galley sewer with a wire. I pointed out that each of us had a motor cycle which we would be glad to donate to the government if we could be transferred to France as dispatch riders. Out of the goodness of his heart the captain wrote to a personal friend of his, high up in the Adjutant's and Inspector's General office, instead of turning my letter over or disciplinary action to me.
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