by Robin Hutton
“And Lieutenant Louie exploded on the guy and said, ‘That horse has done more for the United States Marine Corps than you have, or ever will do. And besides that, she outranks you. And if I ever hear you talking to that horse like that again, I’m going to have you written up and court-martialed.’”11
Recklessly in Pursuit of Anything Edible
Reckless’s new friends soon learned the hard way that beyond her playful personality and battlefield bravery, Reckless had another distinctive trait: an insatiable appetite and unstoppable drive to satisfy it. “Everybody had to chip in and pay for Reckless’s feed,” recalled Private Newsom. “Each payday, we all divvied up. With me being a private, I didn’t make a lot of money and to have to give up part of it to feed a horse wasn’t a priority for me. So some of the men weren’t too pleased with having to do that.”12
Doc Rogers in particular fell victim to the consequences of Reckless’s incredible sense of smell, discovering that when she detected food, Reckless might as well have been named Relentless.
“We all lived in tents, had thirteen-men squad tents, and she could smell from outside the tent what was inside. So I made the mistake of going to the PX one time and I got a package of cookies and I had them stashed away in the tent. We went out for the day and when I got back, it looked like a bomb had hit the place.
“The blankets were off of my bunk and everything was just all torn up in there. Reckless went in the tent, tore the place apart and found those cookies. She ate every last bit of them—wrapper and all.”13
Pancakes, Pudding, and the Spray of Satisfaction
When Sergeant John Meyers joined the Anti-Tank Company, 5th Marines, he was assigned to the staff mess tent for about six weeks, more than enough time to see firsthand how spoiled Reckless had become with food—especially when pancakes and chocolate pudding were involved.
“I would feed her an apple a day, so every time she’d see me, she’d trot over to me.
“I worked closely with the head cook at the time . . . Manny, from Brooklyn, New York, developed the practice of giving Reckless some of our rations for breakfast, which often included pancakes. I would often make sure that Reckless would have a serving and as a result the horse got to know me.
“She knew exactly where I slept. So when Manny was late in getting things started some mornings, Reckless would walk into my tent and wake me up by licking my face, reminding me that it was time for her to eat. It would be the funniest thing. On one occasion, Manny attempted to make chocolate pudding to boost morale for the troops. However, Manny did not have enough sugar to sweeten the dark chocolate treat. It turned out to be too strong and no one really ate it and the 55-gallon drum trashcan became full of the discarded pudding.
“Well, Reckless found the barrel of ‘bad’ pudding and had a feast. Unfortunately, several hours later, that horse was spraying chocolate diarrhea all over the camp. After a day, there wasn’t a safe spot to step.”14
Sergeant Michael J. Mason slept in the same tent as Meyers. “I first made contact with Reckless in the reserve area, where she had a free roam of the compound. She appeared to be a gentle horse, or should I say Marine. You would never know just when or where she might appear.
“On a number of occasions she would roam into our tent and where John [Meyers] would be laying and tug at his blanket or clothes to get his attention . . . John always had a few goodies for her.
“On other occasions the cooks would make sheet pies in pans that were 2 foot by 3 foot and about an inch deep. They would put the pies out on a ledge to cool. They soon learned they had to know where Reckless was, as she would suddenly appear and eat the center out of the pies. Her favorite was cherry pie; however, she was just as fond of apple and peach pies as well.”15
Just a Few Beers with the Boys
Just as before, the new Marines shared whatever food or drink they had with Reckless. Especially their beer.
“She loved beer and it didn’t matter what brand it may have been,” Sergeant Mason recalled. “To her, beer was beer and she loved it. If we had a ration of beer and were sitting around drinking a few, Reckless would trot on over, nudge you in the back until you tipped your can up for her to lick up the beer. She’d drink from the can and I’m sure a lot dropped to the ground, but she wouldn’t stop until she had enough. Then she would stagger back to her stable to rest. Or, should I say, to sleep it off.”16
“There was no way to ignore her if she wanted your attention or something to eat or drink,” Corporal Hammersley remembered. “She would just give you a nip if you ignored her and she would always come into the tents when she wanted attention.”
One night, Hammersley was asleep in his bunk after doing guard duty, “and suddenly I felt a bite on my arm. I awoke and there she was—and she wanted some pogey bait.” The corporal got up and looked around, but found little more than, “a case of warm beer under my cot. . . . So I shared my beer with her. I opened it up and I had a little wash basin that we shaved out of, and I poured the beer in there and she drank it. And she nipped me again. So I said, ‘Hey, does anybody else got something for this horse?’ And by golly the beers started popping open, and she probably drank a half a dozen beers right there.”
One Marine fetched some bread from the cook and, according to Hammersley, “they made a peanut butter and jelly sandwich because she wasn’t going to leave that tent until she was satisfied. So we gave her a half of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich—but she ate the whole thing.
“You know, I had lived on a farm as a boy and I’d never seen any animal eat bread and peanut butter before. She was something else.”17
“Kidnapped” in a Good Cause
In the fall of 1953, the Marine Corps War Memorial—also called the Iwo Jima War Memorial—remained unfinished. More money was needed to complete the huge, cast bronze statue and deliver it to Arlington National Cemetery in Virginia.
Based on the iconic World War II photograph of five Marines and a sailor raising the second flag on Iwo Jima, the memorial was being paid for with private donations. But support had slowed, and a fundraising effort began in Korea. “Many ideas were initiated,” Major General Pate told Colonel Andy Geer, “to promote competition among units to see which could raise the most money.”18
One scheme inspired disbelief and horror among the men of the RR Platoon. Marines from the 4.2-inch mortar unit (Four Deuces) “abducted” Reckless from her bunker and held her for “ransom” in a nearby camp. “We had her for three days,” Navy Corpsman Robert Pontius recalled. “Our unit kidnaped her and I remember us guys all talking about how long we could keep her before they found her.”19 The unit had printed ransom tickets that sold for a dollar apiece.
The men of the RR Platoon were not amused. While assured Reckless was safe, they remained deeply concerned about her care; the Four Deuces had no idea of Reckless’s unusual feeding and drinking habits or how she preferred to sleep near a stove on cold nights. The division scrambled to get her back, with Sergeant Elmer Lively raising $400 from the platoon for the “Ransom Reckless Fund.”
Paul Hammersley shares a beer with Reckless. Paul Hammersley
“Her ransom was quickly forthcoming and the fund oversubscribed,”20 Major General Pate wrote later. When receipts were tallied and Reckless returned, the kidnap stunt had generated more than $28,000 from the division, equivalent to around $237,000 today.
Reckless with her handler feeding her a snack of bread. Command Museum, Marine Corps Recruit Depot, San Diego
Reckless with her handler feeding her a snack of bread. USMC History Division, Quantico, VA
Dollar raffle tickets raised both money for the Iwo Jima War Memorial—and the ire of the RR Platoon
Recognizing Reckless: The Marine Corps Makes It Official
In February 1954, Master Sergeant John Strange, the senior NCO in the Anti-Tank Company, along with the company commander, Captain Andrew W. Kovach, decided it was time Reckless was formally recognized and rewarded for her incr
edible service to country. She would be promoted to sergeant, with details of her courageous acts read aloud at a company formation.
The men felt Reckless deserved an official uniform for the occasion—and it seemed unlikely the Corps had any uniforms to fit her properly. So Kovach turned fashion designer, creating a beautiful red silk parade blanket trimmed in gold, with the Corps’ emblem—the Eagle, Globe, and Anchor—on each side and her unit identification. They found a tailor in Seoul, and the platoon took up a collection for the $51 cost.
A week later, Reckless modeled her uniform for the first time. Unlike the Australian Army hat she had hated, Reckless was proud of this obviously special blanket. Yet after awhile, she couldn’t help herself and began to nibble at the front edge. Lively put a stop to that, instructing his men to “never leave her alone with that blanket. She’ll eat it like she did that hat and we can’t be putting out fifty bucks every few weeks.”21
A small reviewing stand was built, a citation written, and the national and Marine Corps colors displayed as the unit readied itself for the big day.
Biting Off More Than She Can Chew
On March 31, 1954, just a few days before the promotion ceremony, a newspaper ran the headline, “New Ammo Diet Gives ‘Reckless’ Loose Denture.” According to the story, Reckless had “attempted to vary her usual diet of such delicacies as laundered undershirts, talcum powder (seasoned with metal can) and a tasty brand of shaving cream with tube. She tried sinking her molars into a clip of 30-caliber ammunition.”22
Regimental surgeon Nathaniel E. Adamson Jr. and Navy corpsman Robert Pontius were called in to treat the problem. “She bit down on a clip of ammo and it fouled up her mouth,” Pontius recalled. “Several times a day, we washed her mouth out with saline using a large syringe we got from the motor pool.”23 The instrument, a hydrometer, normally used to determine the alcohol content in radiators, was the only thing available that could help Reckless with her teeth. “She just stood there—she didn’t mind,” Pontius said. “She was really something. And she really loved the guys and was part of the unit.”24
“This horse has the strangest appetite I’ve ever seen,” Captain Kovach remarked as Reckless snatched from his outstretched hand an apple, then a slice of bread with jelly.
Another officer agreed. “The troops sure spoil this nag,” he replied while delivering her breakfast, which included donuts.
“‘And then there was the undershirt incident,’ chuckled the company first sergeant. ‘Reckless found it drying on a clothesline and decided to digest it. She was caught in the act by the owner,’ he added, ‘and galloped around the parade ground in high gear, the shirt flapping from her mouth with the sergeant right on her hooves.’”25
Major General Pate Promotes Reckless
On April 10, 1954, Reckless was officially promoted to sergeant—an honor never bestowed, before or since, on an animal.
There have been animals, especially dogs, which surpassed their roles as military mascots and were recognized with awards and even medals. For example, in World War II, an Army German Shepherd named Chips attacked an enemy pillbox in Sicily and took four startled prisoners. Chips was awarded a Silver Star and Purple Heart for valor. (The medals later were revoked following complaints that presenting service medals to a dog diminished their prestige.)
In World War I, a pit bull mix named Sergeant Stubby served with the 102nd Infantry, 26th (Yankee) Division, in France. Stubby was on solo patrol in the Argonne when he heard something in the bushes and found a German spy mapping American positions. Stubby charged, the spy ran, Stubby gave chase, tackled his prey, and bit him in the leg.
When the patrol followed Stubby’s barking and a man’s cries, they found the German on the ground, Stubby’s steely jaws clamped emphatically onto his rear end.
The commanding officer of the 102nd reportedly was so impressed that he “promoted” Stubby to sergeant. But it was an honorary promotion, not an official one.
(Returning to the states, Stubby’s celebrity grew so great that he commanded an audience with three presidents—Woodrow Wilson, Calvin Coolidge, and Warren Harding.)
But honorary Sergeant Stubby wasn’t actual Sergeant Reckless, who was held in the same high esteem as any human Marine of the same rank. No other animal has ever held any legal, officially sanctioned U.S. military rank and been genuinely respected for that rank, except for Reckless.
So April 10 was a big day for Reckless and her platoon. Not just because of the promotion, but especially because Major General Randolph McCall Pate made a special trip to do the honors of presenting Reckless with her sergeant’s stripes.
The company paraded and General Pate “trooped the line.” Sergeant Elmer Lively and Technical Sergeant Dave Woods escorted Reckless into position. Master Sergeant John Strange read the citation:
For meritorious achievement in connection with operations against the enemy while serving with a Marine infantry regiment in Korea from October 26, 1952 to July 27, 1953. Corporal Reckless performed the duties of ammunition carrier in a superb manner. Reckless’ attention and devotion to duty make her well qualified for promotion to the rank of sergeant. Her absolute dependability while on missions under fire contributed materially to the success of many battles. . . .26
Navy Corpsman George Pontius examines Reckless’s teeth. George Pontius
Reckless stood at attention as Pate pinned the stripes onto her beautiful, though slightly chewed blanket.
The native Korean, born Ah-Chim-Hai, and raised to race at a Seoul thoroughbred track, was now officially a sergeant in the United States Marine Corps.
Navy Corpsman Doc Rogers was there that day. “They broke us all out in formation,” Rogers remembered, describing the formal gathering, at attention and by rank, “and they had Reckless there. And they had her corporal blanket on—had corporal stripes on the side of it, had all of her ribbons on there—and they promoted her to sergeant.
“They took the old blanket off and put the new blanket on her that had the sergeant stripes on there. And, of course, the same ribbons. It was the most beautiful horse blanket I ever saw.
“But, you know, I think back on that and I think she just acted like she knew everything that was going on. She just stood still. They read off everything and it was almost like she was just a part of it. She knew what was happening. She was a proud Marine.”27
Reckless’s Military Decorations
Reckless’s war heroics earned her no fewer than ten military decorations, all worn proudly on her red and gold blanket including the prestigious French fourragère,28 awarded to the 5th Marines after World War I. The other decorations included:
•Two Purple Hearts
•Marine Corps Good Conduct Medal
•Presidential Unit Citation with Star
•Navy Unit Citation
•National Defense Service Medal
•United Nations Service Medal
•Korean Service Medal with three Stars
•Republic of Korea Presidential Unit Citation
Had she been able to speak up, Reckless probably would have said none of the medals was as meaningful to her as those hard-won sergeant stripes.29
Reckless is promoted to sergeant. On the platform, (L to R) Gen. Pate, Capt. Andrew Kovac, Col. Elby D. Martin Jr. listen as MSgt. John Strange reads the citation. Standing beside Reckless are Sgt. Lively (L) and TSgt. Dave Woods (R). Camp Pendleton Archives
Capt. Kovac watches Gen. Pate pin sergeant stripes to Reckless’s blanket, as Col. Martin and Sgt. Strange watch from the platform. Camp Pendleton Archives
Reckless troops the line at her promotion ceremony. Command Museum, Marine Corps Recruit Depot, San Diego
Reckless shows off her beautiful blanket. USMC History Division, Quantico, VA
CHAPTER 9
“OPERATION BRING RECKLESS HOME” BEGINS
It doesn’t matter who owns her. I’ll transfer any claim I have to her for a dollar, but let’s get her home.
�
��Lieutenant Eric Pedersen
Within a week of Reckless’s promotion to sergeant, her name was a household word, thanks to the Saturday Evening Post. The April 17, 1954, issue ran Lieutenant Colonel Andrew Geer’s four-page spread, “Reckless, the Pride of the Marines,” which included a photo of the newly promoted NCO, four rounds of ammunition strapped to her back, posing with Sgt. Joe Latham.
Lieutenant Bill Riley received a copy of the Saturday Evening Post story while stationed in Japan. He wrote to his sweetheart Patty O’Leary that he and Latham had “spent an hour a night for a week last September giving the author Andy Geer the scoop. . . . He certainly did a good job in writing about ‘Reckless.’”1
“Reckless at Chang-dan, Korea, with TSgt. Joseph Latham, the Marine who put her through ‘hoof camp.’ A Seoul race pony, she thrived on bacon and eggs.” Caption courtesy the Saturday Evening Post. Photo: Nancy Latham Parkin
Letters poured in to the Post from across the country. Americans inspired by her story wanted to know when Reckless would be brought to the states. Picking up on the developing story, the San Diego Union reported on April 22, “Plans now call for Reckless to be rotated, after long service, to the green hills of Camp Pendleton . . . [Lieutenant] Pedersen thinks she rates rotation.”
The rotation question took months to answer. The Navy was willing to transport Reckless to the States—a minor surprise, considering how messy her previous seagoing adventure had been—but first, the Navy demanded from the Marine Corps “an official request for passage for one horse with feed and handler.”2 In short, the Navy wouldn’t budge without properly authorized paperwork.
Thanks to the popular interest generated by the Post article, Operation Bring Reckless Home was underway. Geer got things started with a letter to Colonel Victor “Brute” Krulak, staff secretary to the Commandant of the Marine Corps, proposing Reckless be assigned permanent duty at Camp Pendleton in Oceanside, California, just north of San Diego.
