Stories by Sixth Division Marines
The General I Knew
by Jack Hoag (6th Jasco)
I first became acquainted with General Shepherd when he was a bird colonel. He taught me that a Marine did not salute an officer with a pipe in his mouth. That was at Camp Elliott in the summer of 1942.
Portrait of General Lemuel C. Shepherd, Jr. sent to us by his granddaughter, Sallie Shepherd. It once hung in her parent’s home and now resides in the Admissions Office at VMI. (Note the Sixth Division flag.)
I walked along with his 9th Marines from Elliott to Pendleton. We traveled the back way along Highway 395. Colonel Shepherd led his regiment walking along with his cane. During our five-minute break, which we took every hour, the Colonel would walk back along the line checking on his boys.
In January 1943, the 9th Marines, one battalion of the 19th Marines, C Battery, 3rd Special Weapons Battalion, and the 26th Seabees boarded the Mt Vernon, the largest troop ship on the Pacific. There were 2,900 troops aboard. Every day I would observe the Colonel, accompanied by a Navy officer, tour the ship. They would walk the decks and the Colonel would stop and talk to enlisted men. They toured the mess hall and talked to the troops there. They were even seen down in the troop's quarters.
In New Zealand we walked. We walked fifteen miles one Sunday morning to get in shape for the next day’s 20-mile hike to a New Zealand rifle range to sight in our new rifles. Next was a forty-five mile walk, fifteen miles a day for three days. After a two-week break, we did a similar exercise – twenty miles a day for three days. The Colonel lived on the same rations we did, but he didn't carry a pack. He walked back through the ranks at every hour break.
Before we left New Zealand, the 3rd Special Weapons Battalion put on a demonstration of our new weapons for the Division brass. This included "A" Battery, with their new 40mm AA guns and directors, "B" Battery with their new 90mm AA guns and the Marine Corps’ new Radar director, and "C" and "D" Batteries with their half tracks equipped with 75mm guns.
I was stationed about 50 yards to the rear manning the radio in communication with the base camp and the plane that would be pulling the target for the AA guns. With me was the German shepherd that the 1st platoon of "A" battery had acquired for a mascot. The exercise started with General Barrett making a speech. Every time he started to talk the dog would howl. The Colonel came to the station and said, "Son, I learned a long time ago that if you want something done, go to the man in charge. Keep the dog quiet; it's embarrassing the General." The Colonel walked away, and I took off my belt and muzzled the dog.
A week after the weapons demonstration, the 9th Marines took their famous 60-mile walking tour of New Zealand. Walking on the decomposed granite roads, the dog wore the pads off his four feet. The dog was destroyed.
The 3rd Division left New Zealand and set up camp on Guadalcanal in July 1943. The Colonel was promoted to Brigadier General and was transferred to the 1st Marine Division. General Shepherd took command of the newly formed 1st Provisional Marine Brigade on Guadalcanal in April 1944. I became a part of the 4th Marines, which became part of the brigade. We knew that the General was on board because activities were in high gear. On May 25, we boarded ship and headed for the invasion of Guam.
We landed on Guam 21 July 1944. On 29 July, at the site of the Marine Barracks, Orote Peninsula, I heard the General say, "On these hallowed grounds, you officers and men of the First Marine Brigade have avenged the loss of our comrades who were overcome by a numerically superior enemy three days after Pearl Harbor.Under our flag this island again stands ready to fulfill its destiny as an American fortress in the Pacific."
On August 3, 1944, the Brigade was ordered north to join up with the 3rd Marine Division. Our predicted eight-mile walk turned out to be eighteen. We dug in that evening on top of the mesa just north of where the Guam International Airport is now. The radios were set up, and I was boiling a can of green tea that I had picked up at the Jap supply depot. Chaplain McCorkill, Brigade Chaplain, asked me if I had any "bung-fodder." He said that he and the General had the "trots." I gave him my spare packet of rationed toilet paper. In a short while, the General returned what was left. I told him to keep it as I had plenty. He then asked me what I was boiling, and I told him, "Green tea, sir. Want a cup?" He said that he hadn't had any decent tea since we left New Zealand. I filled up a canteen cup and gave him half of my brick of green tea. The General thanked me and said something about green tea being medicinal.
Several days after 10 August 1944, the Marine Cemetery on Guam was dedicated. A Lieutenant Dillenbeck asked me to accompany him to the dedication and operate the PA system. I was setting up the gear when the Brigade staff along with Adm. Nimitz, Lt. Gen H. M. Smith, Commandant Lt. Gen. Vandergrift, Maj. Gen Geiger, and Admiral Spruance arrived. The General walked over to me and said, "The tea worked. Where is your dog ?" I didn't have time to answer; he was being pushed along with all the brass.
Generals Simon Boliver Buckner Jr., Lemuel C. Shepherd Jr., and William T. Clement on Okinawa, May 22, 1945
My next encounter with the General was at the 1976 Sixth Marine Division Association reunion at San Diego. The General was sitting in a chair, and when the crowd around him cleared, I asked if he still had the cane that he walked with all over New Zealand. He told me the cane was at Quantico, and he told me about being wounded during WW I. A French doctor wanted to amputate his leg, but a German POW doctor saved it and gave him the cane. It seems that the French doctor told the young Lieutenant Shepherd that a true patriot should be willing to give a limb in the service of his country. He also told me the Seabees in New Zealand replaced the worn out tip of the cane with a Monel metal tip. Then the General surprised me by asking, "What ever happened to your dog?" I told him about destroying the dog, and he replied, "What a shame."
During the last four years of General Lemuel C. Shepherd's tour of duty on this earth – before he took command of the Heavenly Guard Company – two or three of us Sixth Division vets would visit him at his La Jolla home. We made it a point to visit him on his birthday and the Marine Corps birthday. And then there were times in between. On special occasions we would take him his favorite cake — German chocolate — and his favorite drink — scotch.
It was during these visits that I was able to get answers to questions that had been bothering me since the war years. The General was so gracious and answered like I was one of his staff, not a PFC.
For instance, I asked the General whose idea it was to use "R" rations (rice, raisins and salt-pork) on the New Zealand marches? He said, "It was General Barrett, a mighty fine man, my mentor. General Barrett said, 'If the Japs can live on a hand full of rice, so can my Marines.'"
At our visit to celebrate the General's birthday in February 1988, the General wanted to know what I was doing to keep busy. I mentioned that in April I would be cruising down the Amazon. He wanted to know why and when and ordered me to report to him as soon as I got home.
I did as ordered. The General and I sat side by side on a bench, and he critiqued me. He asked me a lot of questions about Manaus, Brazil and what shape the opera house was in. He told me that he was the only Commandant of the Marine Corps who had visited every place where a Marine was stationed.
During these visits I learned when the General acquired his love for German chocolate cake. It was while he was stationed in Koblenz, Germany during occupation duty after WW I. Then Captain Shepherd was billeted above a bakery where he had his first taste of German chocolate cake. While he was stationed in Koblenz, the baker never wanted for cocoa or flour.
In 1954, Commandant Shepherd made a tour of the consulates in Europe. When he was near Koblenz, he told his driver about the room he had over the bakery, and he decided to see if the building was still standing. He directed the driver to the street and where he thought was the place. The General pointed to a bakery across the street and told the driver that he thought that was the bakery. While he was pointing, a man nearing fifty wearing a white apron walked across the street and said in broken English, "Captain Shepherd?" The man was the baker's ten-year-old son when Captain Shepherd occupied the room above the bakery.
Why did the General, a native of Virginia (the home of American whiskey), prefer scotch to sour mash whiskey? It seems that a classmate and cadet at VMI acquired a bottle of whiskey, and the two of them drank themselves sick. For a long time after, the smell of whiskey turned his stomach. He was introduced to scotch while in France during WW I, and it didn't make him sick.
The General spoke highly of the German people, but not so of the French. His feeling about the Japanese was just a bit below the French. During one of our visits, Len Cotten told the General he was being pressured to return his war trophy flag to Japan. He asked the General for guidance. The General's answer was, "Len, tell them to go to hell."
The General's eye sight disintegrated in his last years to a point where he could only distinguish between bright light and total darkness.
My son, an Army officer, expressed several times a desire to meet and shake the hand of this general I was always talking about. The occasion presented itself in May 1989. The General had been ill, and his February 10 birthday party was postponed until May. My son was available to accompany us to La Jolla. When I introduced him to the General, the General said, "You must be a military man. I can see your shiny buttons." The General talked to my son for several minutes. He wanted to know where he went to school, when he was commissioned, what his command was, etc. After we arrived home my son said, "Pop, no wonder you admire General Shepherd. He talked to me like I was a part of his staff. I should have gone Marine instead of Army."
Len Cotten, Ken Davis, others, and I celebrated the Marine Corps birthday with our General and his dear lady on Friday, 10 November 1989. As usual we took a bottle of champagne, the General's favorite German chocolate cake, and a bottle of scotch for his decanter.
Jim Day, being second in command, asked the General if he would do the honors of toasting the Corps, our Nation, the President, and the Commandant.
We who were there will never forget the General’s lady sitting next to the General, who reached over, squeezed the General's leg, and said, "You must toast the division."
The General cut the cake with a K-Bar. We were all served and after some small talk and sea stories, we policed the area and bid adieu to the General, his lady, and his son, Colonel Shepherd (“Bo”). At that time, the General insisted that we take the bottle of scotch with us and give the boys a drink.
Two days after the birthday party, our General's lady entered the hospital where she spent her final days.
What became of the bottle? It became the "LAST MAN’S BOTTLE," a gift from our General, and it is auctioned off at every reunion. The proceeds are designated for the VMI General Shepherd Fund.
The General was shown the "LAST MAN'S BOTTLE" in its oak protective container at his 94th and last birthday on this earth in February 1990. The General loosened his earthly ties on August 6, 1990, just 45 years after the dropping of the first “A” bomb on Japan. The General's passing affected me more than the death of my own father. I've questioned myself about this many times. The only answer I can come up with is that we were comrades in arms and fought the same war. We had both heard the sounds of battle, the cry of the wounded, and the silence of death.
I will never forget my GENERAL.
We thank Sallie Shepherd for providing us with General Shepherd's Address
to the 6th Marine Division before the battle of Okinawa.
Portrait of General Lemuel C. Shepherd, Jr. sent to us by his granddaughter, Sallie Shepherd. It once hung in her parent’s home and now resides in the Admissions Office at VMI. (Note the Sixth Division flag.)
I walked along with his 9th Marines from Elliott to Pendleton. We traveled the back way along Highway 395. Colonel Shepherd led his regiment walking along with his cane. During our five-minute break, which we took every hour, the Colonel would walk back along the line checking on his boys.
In January 1943, the 9th Marines, one battalion of the 19th Marines, C Battery, 3rd Special Weapons Battalion, and the 26th Seabees boarded the Mt Vernon, the largest troop ship on the Pacific. There were 2,900 troops aboard. Every day I would observe the Colonel, accompanied by a Navy officer, tour the ship. They would walk the decks and the Colonel would stop and talk to enlisted men. They toured the mess hall and talked to the troops there. They were even seen down in the troop's quarters.
In New Zealand we walked. We walked fifteen miles one Sunday morning to get in shape for the next day’s 20-mile hike to a New Zealand rifle range to sight in our new rifles. Next was a forty-five mile walk, fifteen miles a day for three days. After a two-week break, we did a similar exercise – twenty miles a day for three days. The Colonel lived on the same rations we did, but he didn't carry a pack. He walked back through the ranks at every hour break.
Before we left New Zealand, the 3rd Special Weapons Battalion put on a demonstration of our new weapons for the Division brass. This included "A" Battery, with their new 40mm AA guns and directors, "B" Battery with their new 90mm AA guns and the Marine Corps’ new Radar director, and "C" and "D" Batteries with their half tracks equipped with 75mm guns.
I was stationed about 50 yards to the rear manning the radio in communication with the base camp and the plane that would be pulling the target for the AA guns. With me was the German shepherd that the 1st platoon of "A" battery had acquired for a mascot. The exercise started with General Barrett making a speech. Every time he started to talk the dog would howl. The Colonel came to the station and said, "Son, I learned a long time ago that if you want something done, go to the man in charge. Keep the dog quiet; it's embarrassing the General." The Colonel walked away, and I took off my belt and muzzled the dog.
A week after the weapons demonstration, the 9th Marines took their famous 60-mile walking tour of New Zealand. Walking on the decomposed granite roads, the dog wore the pads off his four feet. The dog was destroyed.
The 3rd Division left New Zealand and set up camp on Guadalcanal in July 1943. The Colonel was promoted to Brigadier General and was transferred to the 1st Marine Division. General Shepherd took command of the newly formed 1st Provisional Marine Brigade on Guadalcanal in April 1944. I became a part of the 4th Marines, which became part of the brigade. We knew that the General was on board because activities were in high gear. On May 25, we boarded ship and headed for the invasion of Guam.
We landed on Guam 21 July 1944. On 29 July, at the site of the Marine Barracks, Orote Peninsula, I heard the General say, "On these hallowed grounds, you officers and men of the First Marine Brigade have avenged the loss of our comrades who were overcome by a numerically superior enemy three days after Pearl Harbor.Under our flag this island again stands ready to fulfill its destiny as an American fortress in the Pacific."
On August 3, 1944, the Brigade was ordered north to join up with the 3rd Marine Division. Our predicted eight-mile walk turned out to be eighteen. We dug in that evening on top of the mesa just north of where the Guam International Airport is now. The radios were set up, and I was boiling a can of green tea that I had picked up at the Jap supply depot. Chaplain McCorkill, Brigade Chaplain, asked me if I had any "bung-fodder." He said that he and the General had the "trots." I gave him my spare packet of rationed toilet paper. In a short while, the General returned what was left. I told him to keep it as I had plenty. He then asked me what I was boiling, and I told him, "Green tea, sir. Want a cup?" He said that he hadn't had any decent tea since we left New Zealand. I filled up a canteen cup and gave him half of my brick of green tea. The General thanked me and said something about green tea being medicinal.
Several days after 10 August 1944, the Marine Cemetery on Guam was dedicated. A Lieutenant Dillenbeck asked me to accompany him to the dedication and operate the PA system. I was setting up the gear when the Brigade staff along with Adm. Nimitz, Lt. Gen H. M. Smith, Commandant Lt. Gen. Vandergrift, Maj. Gen Geiger, and Admiral Spruance arrived. The General walked over to me and said, "The tea worked. Where is your dog ?" I didn't have time to answer; he was being pushed along with all the brass.
Generals Simon Boliver Buckner Jr., Lemuel C. Shepherd Jr., and William T. Clement on Okinawa, May 22, 1945
My next encounter with the General was at the 1976 Sixth Marine Division Association reunion at San Diego. The General was sitting in a chair, and when the crowd around him cleared, I asked if he still had the cane that he walked with all over New Zealand. He told me the cane was at Quantico, and he told me about being wounded during WW I. A French doctor wanted to amputate his leg, but a German POW doctor saved it and gave him the cane. It seems that the French doctor told the young Lieutenant Shepherd that a true patriot should be willing to give a limb in the service of his country. He also told me the Seabees in New Zealand replaced the worn out tip of the cane with a Monel metal tip. Then the General surprised me by asking, "What ever happened to your dog?" I told him about destroying the dog, and he replied, "What a shame."
During the last four years of General Lemuel C. Shepherd's tour of duty on this earth – before he took command of the Heavenly Guard Company – two or three of us Sixth Division vets would visit him at his La Jolla home. We made it a point to visit him on his birthday and the Marine Corps birthday. And then there were times in between. On special occasions we would take him his favorite cake — German chocolate — and his favorite drink — scotch.
It was during these visits that I was able to get answers to questions that had been bothering me since the war years. The General was so gracious and answered like I was one of his staff, not a PFC.
For instance, I asked the General whose idea it was to use "R" rations (rice, raisins and salt-pork) on the New Zealand marches? He said, "It was General Barrett, a mighty fine man, my mentor. General Barrett said, 'If the Japs can live on a hand full of rice, so can my Marines.'"
At our visit to celebrate the General's birthday in February 1988, the General wanted to know what I was doing to keep busy. I mentioned that in April I would be cruising down the Amazon. He wanted to know why and when and ordered me to report to him as soon as I got home.
I did as ordered. The General and I sat side by side on a bench, and he critiqued me. He asked me a lot of questions about Manaus, Brazil and what shape the opera house was in. He told me that he was the only Commandant of the Marine Corps who had visited every place where a Marine was stationed.
During these visits I learned when the General acquired his love for German chocolate cake. It was while he was stationed in Koblenz, Germany during occupation duty after WW I. Then Captain Shepherd was billeted above a bakery where he had his first taste of German chocolate cake. While he was stationed in Koblenz, the baker never wanted for cocoa or flour.
In 1954, Commandant Shepherd made a tour of the consulates in Europe. When he was near Koblenz, he told his driver about the room he had over the bakery, and he decided to see if the building was still standing. He directed the driver to the street and where he thought was the place. The General pointed to a bakery across the street and told the driver that he thought that was the bakery. While he was pointing, a man nearing fifty wearing a white apron walked across the street and said in broken English, "Captain Shepherd?" The man was the baker's ten-year-old son when Captain Shepherd occupied the room above the bakery.
Why did the General, a native of Virginia (the home of American whiskey), prefer scotch to sour mash whiskey? It seems that a classmate and cadet at VMI acquired a bottle of whiskey, and the two of them drank themselves sick. For a long time after, the smell of whiskey turned his stomach. He was introduced to scotch while in France during WW I, and it didn't make him sick.
The General spoke highly of the German people, but not so of the French. His feeling about the Japanese was just a bit below the French. During one of our visits, Len Cotten told the General he was being pressured to return his war trophy flag to Japan. He asked the General for guidance. The General's answer was, "Len, tell them to go to hell."
The General's eye sight disintegrated in his last years to a point where he could only distinguish between bright light and total darkness.
My son, an Army officer, expressed several times a desire to meet and shake the hand of this general I was always talking about. The occasion presented itself in May 1989. The General had been ill, and his February 10 birthday party was postponed until May. My son was available to accompany us to La Jolla. When I introduced him to the General, the General said, "You must be a military man. I can see your shiny buttons." The General talked to my son for several minutes. He wanted to know where he went to school, when he was commissioned, what his command was, etc. After we arrived home my son said, "Pop, no wonder you admire General Shepherd. He talked to me like I was a part of his staff. I should have gone Marine instead of Army."
Len Cotten, Ken Davis, others, and I celebrated the Marine Corps birthday with our General and his dear lady on Friday, 10 November 1989. As usual we took a bottle of champagne, the General's favorite German chocolate cake, and a bottle of scotch for his decanter.
Jim Day, being second in command, asked the General if he would do the honors of toasting the Corps, our Nation, the President, and the Commandant.
We who were there will never forget the General’s lady sitting next to the General, who reached over, squeezed the General's leg, and said, "You must toast the division."
The General cut the cake with a K-Bar. We were all served and after some small talk and sea stories, we policed the area and bid adieu to the General, his lady, and his son, Colonel Shepherd (“Bo”). At that time, the General insisted that we take the bottle of scotch with us and give the boys a drink.
Two days after the birthday party, our General's lady entered the hospital where she spent her final days.
What became of the bottle? It became the "LAST MAN’S BOTTLE," a gift from our General, and it is auctioned off at every reunion. The proceeds are designated for the VMI General Shepherd Fund.
The General was shown the "LAST MAN'S BOTTLE" in its oak protective container at his 94th and last birthday on this earth in February 1990. The General loosened his earthly ties on August 6, 1990, just 45 years after the dropping of the first “A” bomb on Japan. The General's passing affected me more than the death of my own father. I've questioned myself about this many times. The only answer I can come up with is that we were comrades in arms and fought the same war. We had both heard the sounds of battle, the cry of the wounded, and the silence of death.
I will never forget my GENERAL.
We thank Sallie Shepherd for providing us with General Shepherd's Address
to the 6th Marine Division before the battle of Okinawa.