by Robin Hutton
So this was how it was going to end. I had survived the war only to face a firing squad stateside for telling the truth. I was only doing my job. . . .
Now, unbeknownst to Reckless, some high-ranking public relations officers decided it would be a great idea to arrange a “marriage” between her and some famous thoroughbred racehorse sire. The plan called for their offspring to be entered in and, no doubt, win the Kentucky Derby, thereby propelling Reckless and the Marine Corps even further into the limelight.
After the consummation of this marriage, Reckless was taken back to the base stable and turned out for daily frolics with the stable horses. At night, she was led back to her private stall and paddock, where she was queen of the stable and she knew it.
Before going any further, I must explain that in the armed forces, officers know everything. The enlisted men do not. That’s just the military way, which means that most officers find it unnecessary to inform the enlisted ranks of their plans. This is exactly what happened with Reckless and her Derby-winning colt. We knew nothing about the officers’ plans and most of the enlisted men would be discharged or transferred before the foal’s birth.
It was at this time that Reckless and I crossed paths. After my “Korean vacation,” I’d been transferred to special services and assigned to the base stable. One of my jobs was to help promote the annual Navy Relief Rodeo by being a trick roper and rodeo clown. Our base commander at the time was a strong supporter of the rodeo and through his efforts we received some bucking horses and bulls for the sailors and Marines to practice on.
One of the young bucking horses had gotten kicked in the chest and needed stitches. After a visit to the veterinarian, he was turned out with the stable horses so it would be easier to catch him when it came time to take out the stitches. The next morning when Reckless was turned out the crew gathered to see her put this new guy in his place. To their surprise, they discovered first that he was a stallion and second that Reckless was in love. By the time they got her back to her paddock and the young stallion into a corral, Cupid had shot all his arrows.
“You can probably brush off most of those scuff marks and comb out her ruffed-up mane,” I explained. “But I don’t know how you’re going to get that smirk off her face.” We all agreed not to tell anybody about this and swore an oath of secrecy.
Apparently the arranged marriage had failed and no one had informed the powers that be to check her in twenty-eight days to see if the ink had dried on the license. All was forgotten until one day I looked up and saw a staff car and veterinarian’s truck parked outside Reckless’s paddock. After the vet had checked her over, the staff car pulled up to the office where I was and the officers unloaded with big smiles on their faces. One proudly announced that Reckless was going to have a baby.
It was at this point that I became very confused. Why were they so excited about her being in foal with a common bucking horse? I didn’t know about the earlier marriage with the champion stallion, and they didn’t know about her affair with the rodeo bronc. I was fully expecting to be blamed for her condition while quietly wondering who’d let the cat out of the bag. Instead I was being ordered to make a big sign to put along the main base highway that ran by her paddock. They explained that they wanted everybody to be aware of the expected arrival and its gender once it got here.
The sign was to say, “It’s a . . .,” and then the appropriate sign of “Boy” or “Girl” was to be put up when the foal was born. Also, whoever was on duty at the time of the blessed event was to call the special services officer immediately and he would notify the press.
Well, it seems the foal came about a month later than expected and you can guess who was on duty the night it happened. Actually, it was about daylight when I looked out and saw her cleaning him off. So as instructed I hung the “Boy” sign, made the phone call and started my morning chores. Suddenly the driveway filled with staff cars and news media.
They were driving Reckless nuts. She was frantically trying to maneuver between the colt and the flashing cameras. I told the news people to step outside the paddock and I’d lead her past them so they could get the shots they wanted. The officers beamed with pride as the cameras clicked. When they were finished, I turned Reckless loose and she scurried to the backside of her paddock with her wobbly-legged offspring in tow.
While heading back to the barns, I heard one of the officers mention the Kentucky Derby. As I stopped to listen more closely, one of the reporters turned to me and asked in a very loud voice, “What is the name again of that famous sire that’s the daddy of this colt?”
I proudly answered, “Well, sir, he ain’t very famous, but he’s one of our best bareback broncs. You know, a buckin’ horse.”
You could have cut the silence with a knife. My CO grabbed my arm and invited me immediately into the office for a “debriefing” while the other officers and the news media were left in a very disgruntled and confused state. During my meeting with the CO the entire story of the Corps’ plans for Reckless was brought to my attention. I learned all about the tremendous amount of time and energy devoted to developing a PR strategy to keep her name in the spotlight and to make her even more famous.
In just a few seconds I had managed to dishonor the reputation of a war heroine and destroy a huge public relations campaign for the Marines.
My enlistment was up shortly after Reckless had her colt. After recent research, I discovered that she fell in love two more times. None of those offspring were Derby winners either.1
Foaling Around with the Facts: The Pendleton Paternity Plot
Fearless was foaled on April 5, 1957, at 10:00 p.m. and, not surprisingly, official records from the Camp Pendleton base stables maintain his sire was not the low-brow bronc Boots Reynolds described, but a registered bay thoroughbred.
Five days after the birth, the San Diego Union reported on Fearless’s arrival under the headline, “Marines become Godfathers: ‘Sarge’ Reckless Bears Offspring.” Without definitive proof of a cover-up, the Union could only insinuate the “Godfathers” were less than candid about the identity of Fearless’s father. After describing how calmly Reckless had become a mother, the Union cut as close to the truth as possible, given the few available facts:
Reckless and Fearless in the mare-ternity ward. USMC History Division, Quantico, VA
Her masters, however, weren’t so calm . . . they weren’t too sure of the colt’s sire. It seems that record keeping on Sergeant Reckless has been slim because of a succession of commanding officers in the regiment.
“We do know Reckless was bred to an Arabian stallion,” one officer said. “But we’re not too sure which one it was.
“The sarge [Reckless] wasn’t saying anything. But she surely looked proud.”2
The Name Game
Like most newborns, Fearless arrived nameless. So the 5th Marines held a “Name the Colt” contest. “Favorite names,” reported the Pendleton Scout, “were Chosin, Pvt Diamond, Star Spangled . . . and a Corps favorite, Semper Fi.”3 None of the many entries satisfied Colonel Richard Rothwell, commander of the 5th Marines.
“I had the contest in the regiment,” the colonel recalled, “and when no suitable name came after quite a long period of time, I got all the battalion commanders together and we tried to get the word out that there was this contest and a reward would be, as I remember—now I can’t be too sure of this—but maybe a weekend of liberty or something like that. Just a symbolic thing.
“Well, I was very disappointed in the results. The battalion commanders probably sifted out the best names from the whole regiment—and I looked at those, and none of them fit the legacy of Reckless. They just didn’t do it.
“They were good names but I decided that his name was going to be Fearless,” Rothwell said. “And I was very, very disappointed that I had to do that—I didn’t want to do that—but it was better than having him tagged with something that was inappropriate. So grudgingly, I had to take that route.”
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��NAME FOR FAMOUS SON—‘Fearless,’ two-week-old son of the 1stMarDiv’s famed war-horse, Sergeant Reckless, takes his first quizzical look at the card bearing his new name. PFC Robert E Gibbs, the card holder, won the colt-naming contest held in the 5th Marines with which Reckless served during the Korean War. If the friendly nuzzle is an indication, ‘Fearless’ seems to approve his new name. Both mother and son will continue to live at Camp Pendleton, home of the 1stMarDiv.” Original photo caption from Pendleton Scout, April 25, 1957. Photo courtesy of USMC History Division, Quantico, VA
Today, the name Fearless seems a great choice, a perfect fit for Reckless’s first-born.
The 1st Marine Division Association in Washington, D.C., gave the name final approval. Colonel Rothwell decided the prize for naming the Colt should still go to someone, so he randomly selected PFC Robert E. Gibbs, one of many who had submitted losing entries, as the designated contest winner.
Movin’ on Up
On June 15, 1957, at the tender age of eight weeks and one day—about a year old to a human—Fearless was promoted to private first class. The proudest witness at the formal ceremony was his doting mother, herself promoted to staff sergeant the same day. Colonel Rothwell pinned the new chevrons on Fearless, who stood at attention as the full-scale regimental parade passed in review.
Taking a Different Path
Fearless soon joined his mother in making ceremonial appearances. After his brother Dauntless was born, Fearless became a trail horse for the base stables, reviewing troop parade marches alongside his mother when four-month-old Dauntless entered the Marines as a private on July 1, 1959.
Fearless stands outside the base stables as he’s being groomed. Debbie McCain
Dauntless, Reckless, and Fearless in one of the last pictures taken of Fearless. Command Museum, Marine Corps Recruit Depot, San Diego
But Fearless’s life took a decidedly different path from that of his mother. He was sold and went to work at a ranch near the base stables, although no record apparently exists as to who purchased him or what his life was like as a ranch horse.
Captain Eric Pedersen secured rights to the foal when he sold Reckless to the 1st Marine Division Association for a dollar, yet he never exercised those rights.
Fearless survived his famous mother by only a year. He died in 1969—there’s no record of the cause—and is buried at the Camp Pendleton rodeo grounds.
Dauntless
Dauntless was foaled at 4:00 a.m. on March 2, 1959, at the base stables. This time, paternity of the steel-gray colt was not disputed. His sire was a registered gray Arabian named Mayr Nasr, who “boasted a long line of registered Egyptian folk”4 and was owned by Maurita Brown of Santa Barbara, California. Mayr’s own sire, Radban Lel Azrak, and dam, Nasr, were from Egypt. Dauntless’s grand sire was a horse named Prince Mohammed Ali of Egypt.
Another Colt, Another Contest
As with Fearless, the Corps had a contest to name the new colt; unfortunately, none of the names passed muster with the sole judge, Marine Corps Commandant Randolph Pate. So he chose a name himself, dubbing the newborn “Dauntless.” Unlike the last time, no one was chosen to receive a prize or pose for a picture in the Pendleton Scout. That the Commandant of the entire Corps took it upon himself to name the colt shows how much Reckless and her offspring were loved and highly regarded by the Marines.
Private Dauntless, Public Figure
Dauntless’s enlistment at the age of four months was helped along by a friendly, PR-focused Corps eager to build on Reckless’s feel-good story, which now was a tale of multi-generational loyalty to the Marines. Six days before the Pendleton enlistment ceremony—authorized by General Pate and featuring a parade and review—there was an interesting bit of back-story detailed in The Pendleton Scout:
“The enlistment of Dauntless was authorized in a letter from Marine Corps Headquarters on May 5, which solemnly stated that, ‘after deliberation of a board of officers gladly convened for the purpose, the normal enlistment requirements would be waived in the case of Dauntless.’ It further assigned the young four-legged enlistee to the 5th Marine Regiment ‘for recruit training as deemed appropriate by the commanding officer.’”
Reckless and Dauntless. Command Museum, Marine Corps Recruit Depot, San Diego
The base paper noted that Pate’s letter authorizing the enlistment ceremony included an addendum by Major General E. W. Snedeker, the 1st Marine Division’s commanding general, who was among those expected to join the reviewing party on the big day:
“He wrote, in part, ‘Members of the Corps both past and present—as well as every officer and man of the 1st Marine Division—enthusiastically welcome aboard the son of a distinguished combat veteran whose heroic exploits have achieved a permanent niche in the proud history of country and our Corps.’”5
On July 1, 1959, Dauntless stood quietly as more than five hundred well-wishers watched the full-scale regimental parade and review. The formal oath was administered by Colonel Tolson A. Smoak, commander of the 5th Regiment. He was also the 1st Marine Division Association representative overseeing “the general welfare of Reckless and her colts.”
Sgt. Tommie Mack Turvey Sr. poses with his favorite rodeo horse, Dauntless. Tommie Mack Turvey Sr.
Colonel Smoak’s administering of the oath to Dauntless, which turned the colt over to the 5th Marine Regiment for “hoof training,” concluded: “. . . having fulfilled all prerequisites for enlistment, including an oath in horse language, I do hereby enlist him, Dauntless, a private in the United States Marine Corps.”
The Pendleton newspaper noted: “After receiving ‘recruit training’ with the 5th Marines, Dauntless will be transferred to the Camp Pendleton Base Stables where he will carry out his duties in company with his mother and brother.”6
Rodeo Marine Dauntless was more than a trail guide. He also worked in the Marine Corps rodeo and was the favorite horse of Sergeant Tommie Mack Turvey Sr., who ran the rodeo grounds for three years.
“I used to ride Dauntless in the Grand Entry. At the rodeo, it’s the first entrance when everybody who’s in the rodeo, all the riders—except the rough stock riders because they’re back getting their horses and bulls ready—parade out into the arena. I led the Grand Entry on Dauntless.
“I kinda hogged that horse for myself because I liked him so much,” Turvey said, smiling. “I controlled what saddles went on what horses, and who rode what horses at the rodeo grounds, so I just always used Dauntless because I liked him so well.”
Dauntless was used as a “bull dogging” horse. In bull dogging, a steer bolting from a stall is flanked on both sides by riders on horseback. As the steer runs between them, one rider leaps from his horse onto the steer, to “bull dog,” or wrestle him. “The bull dogger will be the rider on the left side. He’s the one that actually gets off the horse and the horse has to run by; he can’t stop, it’s got to run by and drop you off on that steer’s head.”
Turvey remembered Dauntless as an outstanding bull dogger. “Once they open the chute, you have to give the steer about an eight-foot head start. Your horse has to pause a beat or two, and then boom—he has to go catch that steer and run by him. Dauntless could put you on that steer from zero to thirty miles per hour in three seconds. And when he’d pass a steer, and you’d get off, he wouldn’t quit on you and leave you hanging in mid-air. Every time we’d put Dauntless in the chute, he would always score.”
Dauntless was also used as a “hazer,” or guide horse. “The hazer is the guy on the other side,” Turvey said, “and he’ll push the steer straight so the bull dogger can get off. . . . Dauntless could go on either side, but mostly for three years I used him for my doggin’ horse because he was so good and I would haze for everybody else on him.”
Another of Dauntless’s jobs was to rescue cowboys thrown from bucking horses. When a cowboy fell off, a rider astride a “pick up” horse would race to the bucking horse, yank the flank strap off, and bring the fallen cowboy to safety.
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sp; Dauntless (L) and Chesty (R) attend memorial dedication ceremony. Debbie McCain
“That horse did it all. He just did it all,” Turvey said. “I was real choosy over who I let ride that horse. He was actually one of the best horses for anybody. But he just had the looks and the muscles; everything was where it should be. He was the perfect build for a horse to do anything. And he had the perfect temperament.
“I could put a halter on him and ride him and he wouldn’t take off on me. I could put a kid on him. I could take him in the Grand Entry. I could pick up bucking horses on him and he was fast enough to bull dog and win. He was something else, that’s for sure.”7
Memorial for Mom
On November 20, 1971, the 1st Marine Division unveiled a memorial headstone for Reckless at the entrance of the base stables. Dauntless and his brother, Chesty, were in attendance for the tribute to their mother.
It’s unclear when Dauntless died; records vary. In 1983, however, the Corps reported in a press release that Dauntless survived both Fearless and Chesty and added, “Dauntless is living out his old age in retirement at the base stables. While it’s unknown if Dauntless is actually the last of Reckless’s line, the 25-year-old gelding is the only relation left at Camp Pendleton. Sadly, a proud tradition appears to be nearing its end.”8
When he died of natural causes, Dauntless was buried alongside both brothers at the Camp Pendleton Rodeo Grounds, an appropriate place for a horse who loved the rodeo so much.
Chesty
Chesty was foaled on Sunday, December 6, 1964, at 10:30 a.m. His sire was a registered bay thoroughbred—the same sire listed for Fearless in Camp records. Chesty’s color was seal brown.
