thedrifter
01-09-07, 03:32 PM
January 15, 2007
The Lore of the Corps
Officer’s WWII command required tough decisions
By Charles A. Jones
Special to the Times
The story of Brig. Gen. Wendell Duplantis includes two Silver Stars, two decades of service and an instance of his ordering the execution of a Marine war dog.
Duplantis, a Missouri native, joined the Corps as a lieutenant in 1935. During World War II, he served on Bougainville as executive officer of 2nd Battalion, 9th Marines. In January 1944, he became commander of 3rd Battalion, 21st Marines, and earned Silver Stars on Guam and Iwo Jima.
Duplantis was a lieutenant colonel when his battalion landed in reserve on Iwo Jima. He faced multiple challenges, including the death of two of his company commanders, along with severe communications problems.
The division operations order he received lacked call signs and frequencies of friendly units, so his requests for support were unanswered.
One attack, requiring his battalion to screen tanks, was so poorly planned and coordinated — the tanks never appeared — that Duplantis, who still had to move, ended his attack order by telling his men simply, “Go till I tell you to stop.”
During another engagement on Iwo, his men found themselves caught between fire from both sides: Japanese from the front and friendly artillery and naval gunfire from the rear. Duplantis could not stop the friendly fire because he could not communicate with fire controllers. After one of his lieutenants was wounded by friendly fire, Duplantis reached the Marine’s father at headquarters. When he recited the lot number from part of a Navy shell, naval gunfire stopped.
Later, when ordered to attend a nighttime regimental briefing, he reluctantly left his unit, surviving a walk through a minefield and singing the Marine Corps Hymn so sentries would not shoot him.
He never left his unit again, telling the regimental executive officer he would do so only if it was “feet first.”
Combat had its grim humor. He was told that four Japanese soldiers waited in line with one of his platoons for rations. Once discovered, they “did not get breakfast that morning or ever again,” he wrote after the war.
During fighting on Guam, Duplantis encountered a war dog named Prince who was trained to carry messages between Duplantis and a lieutenant.
On the lieutenant’s first patrol forward of the lines, he put a message on the collar of the usually reliable Prince. Rather than delivering it to Duplantis, Prince — perhaps afraid — followed the patrol.
Notwithstanding the lieutenant’s pleas that Prince deserved a second chance, Duplantis ordered the German shepherd shot as a deserter. Prince’s name is included on the monument at the Marine War Dog Cemetery on Guam.
Prince’s shooting was just one of war’s many brutal acts. While the decision — made in combat conditions — can be debated, what cannot is that Duplantis was a courageous, tough, canny fighter and superb Marine leader.
He retired as a brigadier general and died in 1994.
The writer is a lawyer and Marine Corps Reserve colonel in Norfolk, Va.
Ellie
The Lore of the Corps
Officer’s WWII command required tough decisions
By Charles A. Jones
Special to the Times
The story of Brig. Gen. Wendell Duplantis includes two Silver Stars, two decades of service and an instance of his ordering the execution of a Marine war dog.
Duplantis, a Missouri native, joined the Corps as a lieutenant in 1935. During World War II, he served on Bougainville as executive officer of 2nd Battalion, 9th Marines. In January 1944, he became commander of 3rd Battalion, 21st Marines, and earned Silver Stars on Guam and Iwo Jima.
Duplantis was a lieutenant colonel when his battalion landed in reserve on Iwo Jima. He faced multiple challenges, including the death of two of his company commanders, along with severe communications problems.
The division operations order he received lacked call signs and frequencies of friendly units, so his requests for support were unanswered.
One attack, requiring his battalion to screen tanks, was so poorly planned and coordinated — the tanks never appeared — that Duplantis, who still had to move, ended his attack order by telling his men simply, “Go till I tell you to stop.”
During another engagement on Iwo, his men found themselves caught between fire from both sides: Japanese from the front and friendly artillery and naval gunfire from the rear. Duplantis could not stop the friendly fire because he could not communicate with fire controllers. After one of his lieutenants was wounded by friendly fire, Duplantis reached the Marine’s father at headquarters. When he recited the lot number from part of a Navy shell, naval gunfire stopped.
Later, when ordered to attend a nighttime regimental briefing, he reluctantly left his unit, surviving a walk through a minefield and singing the Marine Corps Hymn so sentries would not shoot him.
He never left his unit again, telling the regimental executive officer he would do so only if it was “feet first.”
Combat had its grim humor. He was told that four Japanese soldiers waited in line with one of his platoons for rations. Once discovered, they “did not get breakfast that morning or ever again,” he wrote after the war.
During fighting on Guam, Duplantis encountered a war dog named Prince who was trained to carry messages between Duplantis and a lieutenant.
On the lieutenant’s first patrol forward of the lines, he put a message on the collar of the usually reliable Prince. Rather than delivering it to Duplantis, Prince — perhaps afraid — followed the patrol.
Notwithstanding the lieutenant’s pleas that Prince deserved a second chance, Duplantis ordered the German shepherd shot as a deserter. Prince’s name is included on the monument at the Marine War Dog Cemetery on Guam.
Prince’s shooting was just one of war’s many brutal acts. While the decision — made in combat conditions — can be debated, what cannot is that Duplantis was a courageous, tough, canny fighter and superb Marine leader.
He retired as a brigadier general and died in 1994.
The writer is a lawyer and Marine Corps Reserve colonel in Norfolk, Va.
Ellie