Merc: American Soldiers of Fortune
MERC American Soldiers of Fortune
By JAY MALLIN AND ROBERT K. BROWN
They call themselves “mercs”—a contraction of the word “mercenaries.” The very word has an unsavory connotation: mercenaries are men who fight for money. The implication is that they fight only for money; they are warm bodies for hire. Did the word “mercenary” (noun) derive from the adjective “mercenary” (“hireling; venal” says the dictionary) or vice versa? Whatever. The soldier who is a mercenary is viewed as a person who fights only for money, and presumably his other morals are equally negotiable.
It is true that many mercenaries have fought and are fighting today primarily for monetary reward. There are, however, two additional important motivations that affect mercenaries: There have been many who have gone to war because of their love of adventure and of fighting. Theodore Roosevelt described this succinctly: “All men who feel any power of joy in battle know what it is like when the wolf rises in the heart.”
A third motive for mercenary activities is belief in a cause. There have been mercenaries who fought because they truly believed in the cause for which they were fighting. Outstanding examples in American history were the Marquis de Lafayette, a Frenchman who came to fight for the American colonies, and Mickey Marcus, an American who went to fight for Israeli independence.
Until the French revolution, when a nation of citizens flocked to the colors and outnumbered the small “professional” military forces each European kingdom had employed, the term “mercenary” did not carry with it a negative connotation. Military personnel of the day were employed directly by the king for money—the average citizen was perceived as not having a stake in the country to fight for.
It was the French Revolution that gave the average citizen a feeling that he had a vested interest in his nation-state. His newfound willingness to fight for his country caused him suddenly to look down his nose at those persons he saw fighting for mere cash—a seemingly baser motivation than patriotism. In fact, each embarrassed the other: the “noble” citizen who took less cash for the job the mercenary was demanding more money for, and the mercenary whose very presence in the same military forces made the citizen’s cause seem a bit baser and more transient. Pragmatism, however has forced both government and citizen to accept the concept of mercenaries, if not the word, for the duration of whatever conflict in which they find themselves. The authors could easily fall into the trap of defending the word “mercenary,” or they could use other, more colloquially acceptable terms. In fact, one man’s terrorist is another man’s freedom fighter. A mercenary fighting on one side becomes a “foreign volunteer” or a “military advisor,” while those performing the same task on the other side become “mercenaries” or “enemies of the people” or “whores of war.” The authors feel the term mercenary will outlast the various systems and groups that now ascribe to it negative connotations; it will endure through future centuries as a term describing a condition of fact, without editorial innuendo. But for the time
being, mercenary is a “bad” word, even to those who employ mercenaries. Because of the connotation of the word, it is clearly a disservice to label Lafayette and Marcus and others like them as mercenaries, because their motive for fighting was not money. Let us say, therefore, that all men who fight under foreign colors are “soldiers of fortune,” and that “fortune” in that context refers as much to luck as to gold. Some soldiers of fortune fight for gold, some fight for cause, and some fight for excitement. All mercenaries are soldiers of fortune, but not all soldiers of fortune are mercenaries.
Are soldiers of fortune effective fighters? Niccòlo Machiavelli in The Prince provided this devastating opinion:
Mercenaries and auxiliaries are useless and dangerous, and a leader having his state built on mercenary armies will never be secure. Troops of this sort are disunited, ambitious, undisciplined, and faithless, swaggering when among friends and cowardly in the face of the enemy; they have neither fear of God nor loyalty to men. Ruin is postponed only as long as the assault is postponed; in times of peace you are despoiled by them and in time of war by the enemy. The reason is that they have no other interest or incentive to hold the field, save only their moderate pay, which is not enough to make them willing to die for you. They are pleased to be your soldiers so long as you have no war; when it comes they either run away or leave your employ.
A totally different view was offered by the English poet Alfred E. Housman. Germany’s Kaiser had sarcastically called the British army “an army of mercenaries,” referring to the numerous colonial units it contained. Housman retorted with his “Epitaph on an Army of Mercenaries,” as follows:
These, in the days when heaven was falling, The hour when earth’s foundations fled, Followed their mercenary calling
And took their wages and are dead.
Their shoulders held the sky suspended; They stood, and earth’s foundations stay; What God abandoned, these defended, And saved the sum of things for pay.
This brief poem was to play a role in the creation of one of the most famous soldier of fortune units in American history. Mrs. Anna Chennault in her biography of her husband, commander of the World War II Flying Tigers—a mercenary unit —stated that Colonel Chennault felt that “one of the factors that turned the scales” in favor of allowing the formation of this unit in President Roosevelt’s mind was Housman’s poetic defense of mercenaries.
The history of soldiers of fortune is as old as the history of man warring on man. In Biblical times, David, an Israelite, killed Goliath, a Philistine, but later defected to the Philistines and conducted raids for them. Among the earliest mercenaries —predating even David—were the Numidian troops led by the Egyptian pharaoh, Ramses II, in his unsuccessful attempt to capture Kadesh, a Hittite stronghold, in 1294 b.c. The Persian Darius the Great utilized Greek mercenaries; the vaunted Roman legions sometimes included Balearic and Aegean mercenaries, and such great military leaders as William the Conqueror, Tamerlane, and Gustavus Adolphus had mercenaries among the men under their command. Mercenary detachments—St. Bernard of Siena called them “locusts who leap here and there”—were a part of the European military scene for centuries. To this day the popes are guarded by Swiss mercenaries, the Foreign Legion is a part of the French Army, and Indian Gurkhas serve in the British Army.
Thus, in view of the long European tradition of utilizing soldiers of fortune, it was natural that soldiers of fortune would participate on both sides when the American colonies fought to break away from England. The British first considered hiring twenty thousand Russians. A British nobleman commented that the Russians “will be charming visitors at New York and civilise that part of America wonderfully.” Catherine the Great, however, rejected the British plan. So the British accepted the offer of minor German princes to rent them troops—this was a normal way for the princes to obtain revenue. A total of 29,166 Germans from six principalities would serve the British monarch in America, nearly half of them Hessians from Hesse-Cassel. Although the Germans served throughout the Revolutionary War, American history best remembers them for General Washington’s bold and successful strike against the Hessian garrison at Trenton, New Jersey, on December 26, 1776.
On the side of the colonials there was, of course, the young and gallant Marquis de Lafayette, able commander and accomplished diplomat who was instrumental in securing decisive military assistance from France. There were also the Baron von Steuben, who doggedly transformed the American troops from rabble to regulars; Thomas Conway, the Irishman; Johann Kalb, German; and Tadeusz Kościuszko and Kazimierz Pulaski, Poles. All of these were soldiers of fortune; all served the American cause well.
In a little over two centuries of history since the Revolutionary War, the United States has engaged in seven major wars: against England, Mexico, Spain, Germany and its allies, Germany and Japan and their allies, North Korea and North Vietnam, and in a good many lesser military actions. In 1970 a congressional subcommittee published a list of 165 major and minor “instances of use of United States armed forces abroad, 1798–1970.”
Thousands of foreign nationals have served with the U.S. armed forces over the years. Some were drafted (residents of the United States, they were subject to the same laws as American citizens). Many others, however, volunteered for service. Similarly, hundreds of Americans, possibly thousands, have served in the armies, navies, and air forces of other nations. Usually they signed up as individuals. In this century, however, there have been at least four cases of Americans fighting under foreign flags in units composed entirely or largely of Yanks. There were the Escadrille Lafayette of World War I, the Kościuszko Squadron which fought for Poland in the Russian-Polish War of 1920, the Lincoln and Washington battalions of the Spanish Civil War, and the Flying Tigers of World War II.
Since World War II, American soldiers of fortune have found their skills to be most in demand in the small wars of Africa and Latin America. They fought yesterday, they fight today, and they will continue to fight tomorrow. Some never come home; others move up to replace them. The spirit of the soldier of fortune was best expressed by a young American soldier of fortune long ago—July 3, 1915—in a letter he wrote to his mother from France. A most unlikely mercenary, Alan Seeger, Harvard man and poet, was one of the Americans who had flocked to join the Foreign Legion when France entered World War I.
Seeger wrote from the front:
“Had I the choice I would be nowhere else in the world than where I am. Even had I the chance to be liberated, I would not take it. Do not be sorrowful then. It is the shirkers and slackers alone in this war who are to be lamented. The tears for those who take part in it and who do not return should be sweetened by the sense that their death was the death which beyond all others they would have chosen for themselves, that they went to it smiling and without regret, feeling that whatever value their continued presence in the world might be to humanity, it could not be greater than the example and inspiration they were to it in so departing. We to whom the idea of death is familiar, walking always among the little mounds and crosses of the men mort au champ d’honneur know what this means. If I thought you could feel about me as I feel about them, the single self-reproach I have, that of causing you possible unhappiness, would be mitigated.”
On July 4, 1916, Legionnaire Alan Seeger was killed in combat as the Legion attacked the enemy-held village of Belloy-en-Santerre.
There follow the accounts of eight contemporary American soldiers of fortune. Some have come back; some have not.