Quantico, VA
July, 1942
Dear folks,
All safe and happy so far, by God! We’ve been on the go every minute – have had everything, but no physical and no shots as yet. Uniforms, haircuts – don’t even recognize myself! And a large issue of clothes, two rifles, Springfield and Garand, bayonette, hats, etc. And I’ve never had my stuff so neatly put away before in my life – every under drawer folded just so. And these Marine Sergeants are every damn thing they’re cracked up to be. I haven’t incurred their wrath yet, but several around me have, and it sure puts the fear of God into me. His first words were “Well, you dumb sons of bitches, I’m your Jesus Christ now!”
Jack Stock of Yale Law is here, and Sabini – though I haven’t seen much of either of them, and nothing from Winnie. Guess he didn’t make it somehow.
Our quarters here are just like gym lockers with double deckers set in between – fourth floor of an enormous building. I’m in an upper, damn it – damn it because the fellow under me has some nervous disorder and twitched all night. This is only [a] light frame, and it felt like a rolling sea up here. But I know that by tonight I won’t notice it. We were up at five, and by the time eight rolled around I was ready for lunch – wonderful food so far, but maybe that won’t last.
Our uniforms are khaki, quite mundane looking, but lightweight, except for the shoes! And our only fancy article – an exotic-looking tropical fibre helmet with the Marine emblem. Can’t be worn off the post.
All my love,
Phil
This next surviving missive from Phil Wood finds him at the fabled Marine OCS - Officer Candidate School.
Phil graduated from Parris Island in early 1942. He held the rating of Private First Class, and had elected to serve in a line company instead of applying for (or being sent to) a separate training program; Marines slated to become clerks, radio technicians, cooks, or other specialties attended other camps for instruction. Boots at Parris Island were given an aptitude test, and those scoring high enough were given the opportunity to apply for training as officers. Many Marines with a college education leaped at the chance to be made "an Officer and a Gentleman" by an act of Congress, and young PFC Wood was no exception.
Officer candidates coming from Parris Island were transferred to the Marine Base at Quantico. They were still under the tutelage of NCOs - experienced corporals and sergeants - who, knowing that soon their charges would officially outrank them, took every opportunity to get in a few last punitive jabs. Candidates were scored according to their merits by a "good chit / bad chit" system - classroom proficiency might net a candidate a good chit, but tucking his tie into his belt (an Army custom) might erase it again.
Much has been written about the "Ninety Day Wonders" who were the product of the OCS system, but this training regimen was no joke. Many candidates were washed out and sent back to rifle companies as enlisted men; others, unable or unwilling to take the strain, bailed on the course as well. Excellent accounts of two Marines who opted out on personal or moral grounds may be found in "With The Old Breed" by Eugene Sledge, and "Goodbye, Darkness" by William Manchester.
Jack Stock and Winnie are apparently personal friends of Phil's; from the remark "he didn't make it somehow," one might infer that Winnie was a friend from boot camp who had wanted to attend OCS and been rejected.
First Lieutenant John A. Sabini was awarded a Navy Cross while serving with the Second Raider Battalion on Bougainville in November of 1943.
Private Wood on the bayonet course, 1942. He is carrying the 1903 Springfield rifle, standard issue for Marines in boot camp and in combat during the early phases of the war. Also note the helmet - his "only fancy article."
Phil Wood, on left, wearing his PFC stripe at Quantico. On the right is Roy Wood, a future rifle platoon commander in Able Company.