I have just returned from visiting the Marines at the front, and there is not a finer fighting organization in the world!
The deadliest weapon in the world is a MARINE and his rifle!
A ship without Marines is like a garment without buttons.
The raising of that flag on Suribachi means a Marine Corps for the next 500 years.
Marines I see as two breeds, Rottweilers or Dobermans, because Marines come in two varieties, big and mean, or skinny and mean. They're aggressive on the attack and tenacious on defense. They've got really short hair and they always go for the throat.
We are United States Marines, and for two and a quarter centuries we have defined the standards of courage, esprit, and military prowess.
The Marines I have seen around the world have the cleanest bodies, the filthiest minds, the highest morale, and the lowest morals of any group of animals I have ever seen. Thank God for the United States Marine Corps!
Every Marine is, first and foremost, a rifleman. All other conditions are secondary.
The Marines have landed and the situation is well in hand.
For over 221 years our Corps has done two things for this great Nation. We make Marines, and we win battles.
The bended knee is not a tradition of our Corps.
Casualties many; Percentage of dead not known; Combat efficiency; we are winning.
Being ready is not what matters. What matters is winning after you get there.
I can never again see a UNITED STATES MARINE without experiencing a feeling of reverence.
We have two companies of Marines running rampant all over the northern half of this island, and three Army regiments pinned down in the southwestern corner, doing nothing. What the hell is going on?
I have only two men out of my company and 20 out of some other company. We need support, but it is almost suicide to try to get it here as we are swept by machine gun fire and a constant barrage is on us. I have no one on my left and only a few on my right. I will hold.
Why in hell can't the Army do it if the Marines can. They are the same kind of men; why can't they be like Marines.
The man who will go where his colors go, without asking, who will fight a phantom foe in the jungle and mountain range, without counting, and who will suffer and die in the midst of incredible hardship, without complaint, is still what he has always been, from Imperial Rome to sceptered Britain to democratic America. He is the stuff of which legions are made. His pride is in his colors and his regiment, his training hard and thorough and coldly realistic, to fit him for what he must face and his obedience is to his orders. He has been called United States Marine.
I am convinced that there is no smarter, handier, or more adaptable body of troops in the world.
Marines die, that's what we're here for. But the Marine Corps lives forever. And that means YOU live forever.
or simply:
