Carole Engle Avriett - Marine Raiders: The True Story of the Legendary WWII Battalions

Marine Raiders

The True Story of the Legendary WWII Battalions

Carole Engle Avriett

Foreword by Joseph C. Shusko, Lt.Col USMC (ret), Honorary WWII Raider

On the Cover: Photographed by a U.S. photographer embedded with Edsons Raiders during WWII, members of a machine gun team pose for cameras on Guadalcanal, 1942. First Lieutenant Lee N. Minier, one of four Raiders featured in this book, lies on the ground stretched out behind his machine gun at the Raider camp dubbed Coconut Grove. Courtesy Minier family collection.

Copyright 2021 by Carole Engle Avriett

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Cataloging-in-Publication data on file with the Library of Congress

ISBN 978-1-68451-130-3

eISBN 978-1-68451-148-8

Library of Congress Control Number: 2020953035

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Cover design by John Caruso

To all Marine Raiders past, present, and future

Thank you doesnt seem enough.

R onald Reagan once said, Some people spend their entire lifetime wondering if they made a difference to this world. Marines dont have that problem. I joined the United States Marine Corps back in 1975, when it wasnt very fashionable to don the uniform, following in my fathers footsteps. My six brothers also became Marineswe were a military family to the core. I served proudly in many billets, bases, and stations all around the world, visiting over seventy countries in the art of supporting and defending our Constitution. Hopefully I have made a difference during my service.

I recently retired after spending over forty faithful years in and around the United States Marine Corps. I would do it all over again if given the opportunity. I retired as the director of the Marine Corps Martial Arts Program in 2019, an assignment that was one of the highlights of my career. In this role, I not only met dozens of great American patriots actively serving in the Marines; I also got to meet those special Marine veterans who served in a legendary Marine unit in World War II. They were called the Marine Raiders, and they definitely made a difference.

From 2002 to 2003, I had the distinct pleasure of meeting a World War II Raider for the first time. His name was Ken ODonnell, and he served with the 4th Battalion of Marine Raiders. He loved telling me he served under President Roosevelts son, then his battalions commanding officer. He was so humble yet so dignified. The stories he told left me eager to learn more about these unbelievable men, these heroes of our great nation.

Ken took me in to the Raider Association and made me feel like I belonged. Thanks to Ken, I was invited to their annual reunions, where I met many other Raiders. I reciprocated by pushing to name our new building in their honor: Raider Hall, the home of the Marine Corps Martial Arts Center of Excellence.

With the name change, Raiders started to come out of the woodwork to donate artifacts and mementos from their service. The Raiders were so thrilled about their new home that they thought it should host their reunions. As their new host, I met more Raiders and heard more and more stories that enthralled me from men like Horse Collar Smith, Chuck Meacham, Howard Berg, Archie Rackerby, Mudhole Merrill, and many, many more. These were men who were recognized around the world as members of the first elite fighting force in the Marine Corps, known for their physical endurance, their martial artistry, their patriotism, their professionalism, and the pride they had for serving as Marines.

Every year, thousands of people descend upon Raider Hall, coming from all over the globe to see what has become the unofficial Raider museum. They dont come to see todays Marines; they come to read about the Marine Raiders of yesteryear.

I have been honored and privileged to be friends with members of our Raider Family for the past eighteen years. In that time, I have come to know and respect these men who sacrificed so much during and after World War IImen who, even after deploying to fight the evil powers of those years, came back home to build this great nation. Men who returned home to finish high school, go to college, get their masters, marry their sweethearts and start families, become doctors and lawyers, policemen and firemen. In my experience, Tom Brokaw was absolutely right to call them the Greatest Generation.

Those hard-charging Raiders convinced our then commandant, General Amos, to change the name of the Corps Special Operations Organization, commonly known as MARSOC, to the Raiders. MARSOC Marines were the elite fighting force serving as special operators for our country, just like the Raiders of World War II once had. The legacy of those gallant warriors of the past will never be forgotten, and our newest Raider Battalions carrying on the rich traditions will make sure that they continue to strike fear in the hearts of our countrys enemies.

I am, and always will be, an ardent admirer of these fellow warriors.

Semper Fidelis

Joe Marine Shusko, USMC (Ret.)

Honorary WWII Raider

Marine Always

J ohn the Apostle penned these words in the last verse of his Gospel:

Jesus did many other things. If every one of them were written down, I suppose that even the whole world would not have room for the books that would be written.

In writing about our heroes of World War II, in particular these magnificent Marine Raiders, I too can appreciate Johns lament.

T he whole world changed in the days following the day of infamy. Though the winds of war had been blowing for many months, America was caught woefully unprepared. The country that would become the arsenal of democracy was undermanned, under-equipped, and under-supplied for war.

Activity spread nationwide as America woke up to what was going on in the world. Every industry was transformed to meet the needs of the war effort. The year coming to a close had seen more than 3 million cars manufactured in the United States. Only 139 more cars would be built nationwide over the remaining course of the war. Chrysler would produce fuselages; General Motors, airplane engines, guns, and tanks; and the Ford Motor Company at its vast Willow Run plant in Ypsilanti, Michigan, would produce B-24 Liberatorslong range bombers with 1,550,000 parts each, much more complicated than the 15,000 parts per car. Yet, miraculously, one enormous plane would come off the line every 63 minutes.

The United States commercial production machine had morphed into American wartime production, an entirely different beast. The eye of a sleeping giant had suddenly snapped open.