thedrifter
02-02-03, 08:56 AM
By Margarette Chavez
Finely chiseled features and the warm, polished purr of their voices suggest low-key charm born of another era. They nod in harmony as they chat amiably about a wide range of music.
Looking at Charlotte Plummer and Bonnie Medin, no one would imagine these ladies enjoy tooting their own horn. But there was a time in the 1940s when they did just that on command, as members of the only musical group of its kind in history: the all-women Marine band.
Unfortunately, if research is any indication, they didn't toot loud enough. A smashing success during World War II, their unique story receives little mention in the annals of the Corps. But for the women who were part of the band during its short-lived history, their story endures by their participation in the USA-1 Chapter of the Women Marines Association and in the book "Musical Women Marines" that Medin and Ellen Stone, a Random House representative, self-published to perpetuate the saga.
As with many Marine Corps specialty units, the band was a Headquarters, U.S. Marine Corps initiative. In 1943 William F. Santelmann, director of the United States Marine Band in Washington, D.C., received orders to form a Women Reserve band at Marine Corps Base, Camp Lejeune, N.C. It wasn't to be just any band, according to guidance Santelmann received from Major General Alexander A. Vandegrift, then assistant to Major General Commandant Thomas Holcomb. It was to be the most outstanding female band in the country.
The notion of a women Marine band was in part a practical necessity since men were being relieved of Stateside duty and sent to the Pacific campaigns. But it was also a stroke of public relations brilliance on the Commandant's or MajGen Vandegrift's part; history isn't clear on who actually originated the idea.
In an era when "girl" bands were a popular novelty and recordings were rare, the women Marine band proved to be an advantage. Not only did it ease commitments for the male band at Camp Lejeune by performing at parades, reviews, inspections, guard mounts, graduations, morale-boosting serenades at the mess halls and officer's club, dances, and war bond rallies, but it became a distinctive Marine Corps element during the war.
Because of the mandate for the finest musicians, procurement officers, now known as recruiters, searched for talent in well-known orchestras and schools such as Julliard (The Julliard School), Eastman (University of Rochester, Eastman School of Music), Curtis (The Curtis Institute of Music) and Cincinnati (University of Cincinnati, Conservatory of Music). To control the numbers, Headquarters was to be notified as quotas were met. But despite meticulous plans, the women musicians failed to materialize. Under pressure to show progress and with a less-than-favorable recruiting kick off in Philadelphia, Santelmann urged the Procurement Branch to look harder.
On 20 July 1943, Headquarters Marine Corps issued a press release outlining the women's band initiative. On 29 July, the New River Pioneer, forerunner to MCB, Camp Lejeune's The Globe, announced that women recruited for the band would be enlisted under "general duty." Should they fail the audition, they would serve in another military occupational specialty. The women would attend boot camp at the Marine Corps Women Reserve Indoctrination Center, New River, N.C.
Lucky for Santelmann, the press release made headlines across the country and brought in the desired recruits at long last. It drew Jane Teubner, who was playing oboe and French horn for the San Jose Symphony, and Eleanor Jones, a college student who enlisted after receiving an invitation to audition.
Others like Dorothea Tolp joined only after a reprieve. Tolp attempted to enlist in May 1943, but was ineligible due to poor eyesight. Not long afterward she received a letter from Santelmann inviting her to audition for the women's band. Apparently, Tolp's two years of experience as a baritone horn player for a concert band had not gone unnoticed.
Charlotte Plummer worked as the director of music for public schools in Portland, Ore. After a former teacher showed her the press release, she enlisted to play the clarinet. As required, the recruiter sent Santelmann Plummer's resume. The Marine band director responded by issuing orders to her immediately. So instead of arriving on a troop train, Plummer reached the Camp Lejeune main gate at night on her own.
The sentry had never heard of a women Marines' band and told Plummer she could wait in the guardhouse until morning when he could check it out. A fine reception for a woman that an 8 March 1944 Globe article would identify as Master Technical Sergeant Charlotte Plummer, the first woman to ever direct "The President's Own" United States Marine Band. Plummer led the band in a rendition of "March of the Women Marines" and "Semper Fidelis."
"You'll have to understand, there was very few women in those days with conducting experience," said Plummer, a point not overlooked by the University of Oregon, which recognized her in 2001 with a Distinguished Alumna Award for her groundbreaking accomplishments for women in music and bands' work.
Recruiting the women musicians had developed into a bit more of a "snafu" than Santelmann had anticipated. But bringing the women together was the easy part; he knew the real work would be in molding them into a musical unit. It was a task made particularly difficult since, in some cases, it would have to fit in between the drill instructors' attempts to shape them into Marines. Santelmann assigned his best men, Principal Musician Andrew Bodnar and Musicians First Class Edward L. Masters and Charles Owen (Plummer's future husband), to bring the band up to speed.
According to Medin's book, Masters voiced vigorous objection. He didn't like the idea of women in the Corps, much less a women's band. Train them? They weren't even Marines; they were recruits. To Masters' disbelief, Bodnar and Owen seemed amenable to the idea.
Masters' reaction wasn't a singular episode. Resistance was coming from higher levels. Colonel John M. Arthur, Commandant of the Women Reserve Schools, his executive officer, and his adjutant were veterans of Guadalcanal. It was rumored they thought it undeserved punishment to be assigned to supervise women's recruit training, and now they had to contend with a band? Arthur's reception of the Washington bandswomen was less than cordial.
http://www.mca-marines.org/Leatherneck/WMBand.htm
Sempers,
Roger
Finely chiseled features and the warm, polished purr of their voices suggest low-key charm born of another era. They nod in harmony as they chat amiably about a wide range of music.
Looking at Charlotte Plummer and Bonnie Medin, no one would imagine these ladies enjoy tooting their own horn. But there was a time in the 1940s when they did just that on command, as members of the only musical group of its kind in history: the all-women Marine band.
Unfortunately, if research is any indication, they didn't toot loud enough. A smashing success during World War II, their unique story receives little mention in the annals of the Corps. But for the women who were part of the band during its short-lived history, their story endures by their participation in the USA-1 Chapter of the Women Marines Association and in the book "Musical Women Marines" that Medin and Ellen Stone, a Random House representative, self-published to perpetuate the saga.
As with many Marine Corps specialty units, the band was a Headquarters, U.S. Marine Corps initiative. In 1943 William F. Santelmann, director of the United States Marine Band in Washington, D.C., received orders to form a Women Reserve band at Marine Corps Base, Camp Lejeune, N.C. It wasn't to be just any band, according to guidance Santelmann received from Major General Alexander A. Vandegrift, then assistant to Major General Commandant Thomas Holcomb. It was to be the most outstanding female band in the country.
The notion of a women Marine band was in part a practical necessity since men were being relieved of Stateside duty and sent to the Pacific campaigns. But it was also a stroke of public relations brilliance on the Commandant's or MajGen Vandegrift's part; history isn't clear on who actually originated the idea.
In an era when "girl" bands were a popular novelty and recordings were rare, the women Marine band proved to be an advantage. Not only did it ease commitments for the male band at Camp Lejeune by performing at parades, reviews, inspections, guard mounts, graduations, morale-boosting serenades at the mess halls and officer's club, dances, and war bond rallies, but it became a distinctive Marine Corps element during the war.
Because of the mandate for the finest musicians, procurement officers, now known as recruiters, searched for talent in well-known orchestras and schools such as Julliard (The Julliard School), Eastman (University of Rochester, Eastman School of Music), Curtis (The Curtis Institute of Music) and Cincinnati (University of Cincinnati, Conservatory of Music). To control the numbers, Headquarters was to be notified as quotas were met. But despite meticulous plans, the women musicians failed to materialize. Under pressure to show progress and with a less-than-favorable recruiting kick off in Philadelphia, Santelmann urged the Procurement Branch to look harder.
On 20 July 1943, Headquarters Marine Corps issued a press release outlining the women's band initiative. On 29 July, the New River Pioneer, forerunner to MCB, Camp Lejeune's The Globe, announced that women recruited for the band would be enlisted under "general duty." Should they fail the audition, they would serve in another military occupational specialty. The women would attend boot camp at the Marine Corps Women Reserve Indoctrination Center, New River, N.C.
Lucky for Santelmann, the press release made headlines across the country and brought in the desired recruits at long last. It drew Jane Teubner, who was playing oboe and French horn for the San Jose Symphony, and Eleanor Jones, a college student who enlisted after receiving an invitation to audition.
Others like Dorothea Tolp joined only after a reprieve. Tolp attempted to enlist in May 1943, but was ineligible due to poor eyesight. Not long afterward she received a letter from Santelmann inviting her to audition for the women's band. Apparently, Tolp's two years of experience as a baritone horn player for a concert band had not gone unnoticed.
Charlotte Plummer worked as the director of music for public schools in Portland, Ore. After a former teacher showed her the press release, she enlisted to play the clarinet. As required, the recruiter sent Santelmann Plummer's resume. The Marine band director responded by issuing orders to her immediately. So instead of arriving on a troop train, Plummer reached the Camp Lejeune main gate at night on her own.
The sentry had never heard of a women Marines' band and told Plummer she could wait in the guardhouse until morning when he could check it out. A fine reception for a woman that an 8 March 1944 Globe article would identify as Master Technical Sergeant Charlotte Plummer, the first woman to ever direct "The President's Own" United States Marine Band. Plummer led the band in a rendition of "March of the Women Marines" and "Semper Fidelis."
"You'll have to understand, there was very few women in those days with conducting experience," said Plummer, a point not overlooked by the University of Oregon, which recognized her in 2001 with a Distinguished Alumna Award for her groundbreaking accomplishments for women in music and bands' work.
Recruiting the women musicians had developed into a bit more of a "snafu" than Santelmann had anticipated. But bringing the women together was the easy part; he knew the real work would be in molding them into a musical unit. It was a task made particularly difficult since, in some cases, it would have to fit in between the drill instructors' attempts to shape them into Marines. Santelmann assigned his best men, Principal Musician Andrew Bodnar and Musicians First Class Edward L. Masters and Charles Owen (Plummer's future husband), to bring the band up to speed.
According to Medin's book, Masters voiced vigorous objection. He didn't like the idea of women in the Corps, much less a women's band. Train them? They weren't even Marines; they were recruits. To Masters' disbelief, Bodnar and Owen seemed amenable to the idea.
Masters' reaction wasn't a singular episode. Resistance was coming from higher levels. Colonel John M. Arthur, Commandant of the Women Reserve Schools, his executive officer, and his adjutant were veterans of Guadalcanal. It was rumored they thought it undeserved punishment to be assigned to supervise women's recruit training, and now they had to contend with a band? Arthur's reception of the Washington bandswomen was less than cordial.
http://www.mca-marines.org/Leatherneck/WMBand.htm
Sempers,
Roger