thedrifter
07-18-04, 06:29 PM
We're Talkin'
DOG TAGS
Story by R. R. Keene
Dog tag photos by
Nancy Lee White Hoffman
Military identification or "dog" tags are small icons of Americana we all learned to recognize during the 1940s, '50s and '60s.
The 2-inch by 1 1/4-inch rounded, Monel metal tags were no less a symbol of America's soldiers, sailors, airmen and Marines than khakis, helmets and John Wayne. We went to the movies where 35 mm heroes, bigger than life, rattled their dog tags in love scenes prior to going off to battle. In silver screen firefights, we noted, ever so observantly, how the tags flew with an added flash of bravado as Hollywood Marines charged and slew sinister enemies on some tropical isle.
When our uncles or older brothers went away to serve their time, we accepted the fact of their service to country only when they came home on leave, we witnessed them shaving over the sink and saw their dog tags embossed with their names.
It was heady stuff to us, and we couldn't wait until we wore our own tags on a beaded chain.
Eventually, our turn did come. When it did, like everything else in the Corps, it wasn't just a matter of wearing those tags. The Marine Corps had a proper way to wear them: one on the larger chain and one on a small chain with rubber silencers or sound suppressors. We secretly enjoyed the silenced dog tags. It made us look and feel tactical.
Our friend in the company office made us a few extra tags that we gave, in an effort to be gallant, to girls as a token that our intentions were honorable and that we were as sincere as 17- or 18-year-old Marines can be in our devotion to them.
Our first sergeant, who knew everything going on in the minds of young Marines, took a dim view of giving away government property and ensured that we were required to produce our dog tags when in pay line, during personnel inspections and "junk-on-the-bunk" displays.
We countered by giving our friend in the company office beer for more tags. The first sergeant countered by giving our friend in the company office extra police duty.
We all ended up in Vietnam where all things, even dog tags, lost their charm and wearing them became serious preparation for a possibility no Marine wanted to think about: death or maiming. At one point we even put a dog tag in the laces of our left boot.
"You don't know why there's a notch in your dog tag?" sneered one of our saltier compatriots who gave us the look of someone resigned to being alone and adrift in a sea of stupidity. " 'Cause when you buy the farm, they will jam one of those tags up between your front incisor teeth, and that's the first place they will look to find out who you were, before zipping what's left of you into a body bag."
We quietly digested that information while looking closer at the notch in the tag. Some of us even stuck the tag up to our teeth and then quickly, as if to ward off some horrible premonition, pulled the tag away.
Of course, everyone who had ever served before us knew and understood our concerns. Nobody likes the idea of "Unknown" being etched on a headstone, particularly one's own.
War is a messy business, and identifying casualties has always been a problem. The first example of identification tags being used by military men in America was during the War Between the States, where both sides privately purchased or made half-dollar-size tags that included the name, company and unit. The oldest known tag was made in 1861 and has Union General George B. McClellan stamped on the obverse side.
Smaller but similar tags, made for those willing to pay, have been preserved from the Spanish-American War. It wasn't until Dec. 20, 1906, however, that Army general order #204 authorized identification tags.
Nearly 11 years later the Navy would authorize ID tags, but only after the Quartermaster, Marine Corps started issuing them as part of individual field kits and ordered them to be suspended from the neck under clothing. Marine Corps order #32, dated Oct. 6, 1916, stated: "Hereafter identification tags will be issued to all officers and enlisted men of the Marine Corps. They will always be worn when engaged in field service, and at all other times they will either be worn, or kept in the possession of the owner."
The order went on to specify that tags would be stamped as follows: "Officers—full name and rank at date of issue; enlisted men-—full name and date of enlistment in the Marine Corps."
Company clerks literally hammered out the details. Accordingly, the quartermaster issued blank tags with stamps and small hammers with which the clerks hand-stamped the information around the edge of the tags. It proved to be none too soon.
The Great War devastated Europe, and the Americans—whose ranks of military swelled to more than 4 1/2 million men in 1917—started going "Over There" as part of the American Expeditionary Force.
The military and, in particular, the AEF to which the Marines had been assigned, grew so quickly that the Army started issuing serial numbers to keep track of everybody. General order #10 of the Sixth Marine Regiment, dated Feb. 15, 1918, stated, "The numbers assigned to all men present will be stamped on identification tags."
The Marine quartermaster began issuing two aluminum tags to be "habitually worn by all officers and enlisted men, and also by civilians attached to the American Expeditionary Force ... both tags will be stamped with the name, rank, company and regiment or corps to which the wearer belongs, and the second tag will be worn suspended by a cord one inch long from the bottom of the first tag." The purpose, bluntly stated, was to allow one tag to be buried with the body and the second tag to be placed with the record of burial that included the cause and date of death.
Some Marines were also issued Navy tags. Initially, some of the oval tags were made of brass that tarnished easily and had a tendency to turn a man's chest green. Others were made of aluminum. Tags made of Monel metal (a patented alloy of nickel and copper, melded with small amounts of iron and manganese) proved more resistant to corrosion. They were also unique. Written in cursive rather than stamped and etched in printer's ink, one side bore the Marine's name, initials, date of enlistment and date of birth or, as in the case of officers, name, rank and date of appointment. The bottom of the tag also bore the letters "U.S.M.C." The reverse side was marked by an imprint of the right index finger. (Fingerprinting for identification had only recently taken hold.)
The process of personalizing the Navy tag seems somewhat complicated, but is worth noting. After the writing and fingerprint were in place, powdered asphaltum was sprinkled over both sides of the tag and allowed to mix with the printer's ink. The excess was blown away. The tag was then heated until the writing and the ridges of the fingerprint became hard. It was then dipped into a solution of nitric acid and allowed to set for about one hour, thus letting the acid eat the metal not covered by the hardened ink. When removed from the solution and cleaned, the writing and fingerprint were raised on the tag.
Sailors and Marines would continue using the tags until the start of World War II. Although the shape and information on dog tags have changed, tags made of Monel metal are still being issued.
When the Armistice was signed, the dog tags fell into disuse and the Corps, for the most part, ordered that the Army aluminum tags be used "until the present supply is exhausted."
Apparently, the Marines had a large inventory of "doggie" dog tags. The Marine Corps Manual of 1921 stated: "The Secretary of the Navy has authorized the use of the Marine Corps identification tag until the exhaustion of the present supply, after which the tag prescribed in the Navy Regulations will be used."
In 1940 another great war was on the horizon. The Marine Corps Manual, Section 1, Article 58, was updated to state that tags were to be used "in the event of war or national emergency and at other times when directed by competent authority."
Tags were still to be "suspended from the neck by a cord or thong passed through a small hole in the tag, the second tag to be suspended from the first one by a short piece of string or tape." Marines were told the tags were to be considered part of the uniform and when not worn as directed "they were to be habitually kept in the possession of the owner" and regularly inspected.
By then the information required was machine-stamped onto oval-shaped Monel disks. Article 58 required that the disks display the following vital statistics: "(a) Name (b) Officer's rank or man's service number. Approximately three spaces to the right of rank or service number, indicate religion by 'P,' 'C' or 'H' for Protestant, Catholic or Hebrew. [There was also an 'M' for Muslim.] If no religion is indicated this space will be left blank. (c) Type of blood; and if the man has received tetanus toxoid, the letter 'T' with the date (T-8/40) to so indicate. (d) At one end of the tag the letters 'USMC'or 'USMCR,' as may be appropriate."
continued...........
DOG TAGS
Story by R. R. Keene
Dog tag photos by
Nancy Lee White Hoffman
Military identification or "dog" tags are small icons of Americana we all learned to recognize during the 1940s, '50s and '60s.
The 2-inch by 1 1/4-inch rounded, Monel metal tags were no less a symbol of America's soldiers, sailors, airmen and Marines than khakis, helmets and John Wayne. We went to the movies where 35 mm heroes, bigger than life, rattled their dog tags in love scenes prior to going off to battle. In silver screen firefights, we noted, ever so observantly, how the tags flew with an added flash of bravado as Hollywood Marines charged and slew sinister enemies on some tropical isle.
When our uncles or older brothers went away to serve their time, we accepted the fact of their service to country only when they came home on leave, we witnessed them shaving over the sink and saw their dog tags embossed with their names.
It was heady stuff to us, and we couldn't wait until we wore our own tags on a beaded chain.
Eventually, our turn did come. When it did, like everything else in the Corps, it wasn't just a matter of wearing those tags. The Marine Corps had a proper way to wear them: one on the larger chain and one on a small chain with rubber silencers or sound suppressors. We secretly enjoyed the silenced dog tags. It made us look and feel tactical.
Our friend in the company office made us a few extra tags that we gave, in an effort to be gallant, to girls as a token that our intentions were honorable and that we were as sincere as 17- or 18-year-old Marines can be in our devotion to them.
Our first sergeant, who knew everything going on in the minds of young Marines, took a dim view of giving away government property and ensured that we were required to produce our dog tags when in pay line, during personnel inspections and "junk-on-the-bunk" displays.
We countered by giving our friend in the company office beer for more tags. The first sergeant countered by giving our friend in the company office extra police duty.
We all ended up in Vietnam where all things, even dog tags, lost their charm and wearing them became serious preparation for a possibility no Marine wanted to think about: death or maiming. At one point we even put a dog tag in the laces of our left boot.
"You don't know why there's a notch in your dog tag?" sneered one of our saltier compatriots who gave us the look of someone resigned to being alone and adrift in a sea of stupidity. " 'Cause when you buy the farm, they will jam one of those tags up between your front incisor teeth, and that's the first place they will look to find out who you were, before zipping what's left of you into a body bag."
We quietly digested that information while looking closer at the notch in the tag. Some of us even stuck the tag up to our teeth and then quickly, as if to ward off some horrible premonition, pulled the tag away.
Of course, everyone who had ever served before us knew and understood our concerns. Nobody likes the idea of "Unknown" being etched on a headstone, particularly one's own.
War is a messy business, and identifying casualties has always been a problem. The first example of identification tags being used by military men in America was during the War Between the States, where both sides privately purchased or made half-dollar-size tags that included the name, company and unit. The oldest known tag was made in 1861 and has Union General George B. McClellan stamped on the obverse side.
Smaller but similar tags, made for those willing to pay, have been preserved from the Spanish-American War. It wasn't until Dec. 20, 1906, however, that Army general order #204 authorized identification tags.
Nearly 11 years later the Navy would authorize ID tags, but only after the Quartermaster, Marine Corps started issuing them as part of individual field kits and ordered them to be suspended from the neck under clothing. Marine Corps order #32, dated Oct. 6, 1916, stated: "Hereafter identification tags will be issued to all officers and enlisted men of the Marine Corps. They will always be worn when engaged in field service, and at all other times they will either be worn, or kept in the possession of the owner."
The order went on to specify that tags would be stamped as follows: "Officers—full name and rank at date of issue; enlisted men-—full name and date of enlistment in the Marine Corps."
Company clerks literally hammered out the details. Accordingly, the quartermaster issued blank tags with stamps and small hammers with which the clerks hand-stamped the information around the edge of the tags. It proved to be none too soon.
The Great War devastated Europe, and the Americans—whose ranks of military swelled to more than 4 1/2 million men in 1917—started going "Over There" as part of the American Expeditionary Force.
The military and, in particular, the AEF to which the Marines had been assigned, grew so quickly that the Army started issuing serial numbers to keep track of everybody. General order #10 of the Sixth Marine Regiment, dated Feb. 15, 1918, stated, "The numbers assigned to all men present will be stamped on identification tags."
The Marine quartermaster began issuing two aluminum tags to be "habitually worn by all officers and enlisted men, and also by civilians attached to the American Expeditionary Force ... both tags will be stamped with the name, rank, company and regiment or corps to which the wearer belongs, and the second tag will be worn suspended by a cord one inch long from the bottom of the first tag." The purpose, bluntly stated, was to allow one tag to be buried with the body and the second tag to be placed with the record of burial that included the cause and date of death.
Some Marines were also issued Navy tags. Initially, some of the oval tags were made of brass that tarnished easily and had a tendency to turn a man's chest green. Others were made of aluminum. Tags made of Monel metal (a patented alloy of nickel and copper, melded with small amounts of iron and manganese) proved more resistant to corrosion. They were also unique. Written in cursive rather than stamped and etched in printer's ink, one side bore the Marine's name, initials, date of enlistment and date of birth or, as in the case of officers, name, rank and date of appointment. The bottom of the tag also bore the letters "U.S.M.C." The reverse side was marked by an imprint of the right index finger. (Fingerprinting for identification had only recently taken hold.)
The process of personalizing the Navy tag seems somewhat complicated, but is worth noting. After the writing and fingerprint were in place, powdered asphaltum was sprinkled over both sides of the tag and allowed to mix with the printer's ink. The excess was blown away. The tag was then heated until the writing and the ridges of the fingerprint became hard. It was then dipped into a solution of nitric acid and allowed to set for about one hour, thus letting the acid eat the metal not covered by the hardened ink. When removed from the solution and cleaned, the writing and fingerprint were raised on the tag.
Sailors and Marines would continue using the tags until the start of World War II. Although the shape and information on dog tags have changed, tags made of Monel metal are still being issued.
When the Armistice was signed, the dog tags fell into disuse and the Corps, for the most part, ordered that the Army aluminum tags be used "until the present supply is exhausted."
Apparently, the Marines had a large inventory of "doggie" dog tags. The Marine Corps Manual of 1921 stated: "The Secretary of the Navy has authorized the use of the Marine Corps identification tag until the exhaustion of the present supply, after which the tag prescribed in the Navy Regulations will be used."
In 1940 another great war was on the horizon. The Marine Corps Manual, Section 1, Article 58, was updated to state that tags were to be used "in the event of war or national emergency and at other times when directed by competent authority."
Tags were still to be "suspended from the neck by a cord or thong passed through a small hole in the tag, the second tag to be suspended from the first one by a short piece of string or tape." Marines were told the tags were to be considered part of the uniform and when not worn as directed "they were to be habitually kept in the possession of the owner" and regularly inspected.
By then the information required was machine-stamped onto oval-shaped Monel disks. Article 58 required that the disks display the following vital statistics: "(a) Name (b) Officer's rank or man's service number. Approximately three spaces to the right of rank or service number, indicate religion by 'P,' 'C' or 'H' for Protestant, Catholic or Hebrew. [There was also an 'M' for Muslim.] If no religion is indicated this space will be left blank. (c) Type of blood; and if the man has received tetanus toxoid, the letter 'T' with the date (T-8/40) to so indicate. (d) At one end of the tag the letters 'USMC'or 'USMCR,' as may be appropriate."
continued...........