Ye Olde Corps
AN UNUSUALLY large crowd was gathered around the doors of a tavern in Philadelphia one frosty morning in November, 1775, as two weather-beaten trappers approached the common.
The stocky one of middle height stopped and grasped his companion by the arm.
"Od's blood!" he muttered, "a new cargo of rum must have come in yesterday. Look yonder at all of the big heads waiting to draw their daily ration of courage to help them face their wives!"
The short one with the hooked nose jutting prominently past the coonskin tail of his cap paused a moment in retrospect.
If you are an MCA&F Member
OR Join the MCA&F to continue reading
By becoming a member of the Marine Corps Association & Foundation, you gain access to the entire library of articles from Leatherneck Magazine and the Marine Corps Gazette. Click here to sign up online and continue reading this article