David M. Shoup: A Warrior Against War (review)

Picking up this slender volume, the reader immediately understands the challenge Howard Jablon faced. The dust jacket promises a long overdue biography of warrior and war protestor David M. Shoup (1904–83). Undoubtedly the Marine officer who rose from lieutenant to commandant had a full and controversial life worth detailing. But writing for the series "Biographies in American Foreign Policy," he also had to focus on Shoup's life as a window on five decades of complex American foreign policy. That proved to be a tall order for a book barely over one hundred pages in length. As a result, the work is not entirely satisfying as a biography. Overly long and detailed attention to foreign policy interferes with telling Shoup's story. Instead of being the backdrop, diplomacy comes to the forefront. Some events in Shoup's life seemed shoehorned between international crises. Such a slim volume cannot afford seven pages on the armed services unification struggle when Shoup took no part in it. This biography, with its chronology of events, 1904–83, and handsome bibliography, would suit the general reader as a solid overview but would not provide much new information for those well acquainted with Marine Corps history or diplomatic history.

Prophetically, Shoup was born near Battle Ground, Indiana. Raised in rural poverty during the Progressive era, he never forgot his roots. He seemed to absorb the strain of progressivism suspicious of economic power and imperialism. Shoup never intended to be a soldier. When a tuition scholarship to De Pauw University still left him with living expenses to pay, he enrolled in the Reserve Officers Training Corps (ROTC). The Math major had no concrete career plans his senior year when he heard John A. Lejeune, Commandant of the Marine Corps, urge young men who were college honor graduates to seek a commission in the Corps. The pay was good, more than he had ever seen in his life, so he became a leatherneck.

Shoup served two tours in China. What he saw in 1927 when stationed in Shanghai and Tientsin stunned him, especially the appalling exploitation of the Chinese by missionaries, businessmen, and diplomats. The Second Lieutenant had contempt for these Americans who paid no taxes in the United States yet received over three thousand dollars of protection per person. In 1934 Shoup returned, this time to Peking, successfully coaching the post pistol and rifle teams in competition. The two tours made a lasting impression, convincing him that China should determine its own destiny and the only protection it needed was from Japan's imperial designs. He retained an abiding skepticism about American intentions in Asia.

Various commanders appreciated Shoup's keen mind and careful staff workmanship, assigning him as operations and training officer on the regimental, brigade, and division levels. When Major General Julian Smith, commander of the 2d Marine Division, chose him to command the 2d Marines, the regimental combat team destined to lead the assault on Betio Island in the Tarawa atoll, he took a gamble. Shoup had only limited command experience and fleeting exposure to combat. But the lieutenant colonel's intricate planning of the attack down to the finest detail coupled with his hard-boiled, no-nonsense approach, won him Smith's approval and promotion to colonel.

At the battle of Tarawa, Shoup's coolness in desperate straits would save the day and earn him the Medal of Honor. He held the assault together during the first critical day and a half as chaos and confusion reigned. Nothing went according to plan. The low tide stranded men and landing craft and prevented reinforcements, radio communication broke down, and naval bombardment did not destroy most Japanese positions. Jablon explains how Shoup, wounded by shell fragments, handled the first seventy-six hours with skill, trying desperately to restore communication, get supplies, and above all, generate momentum in the attack. By mid afternoon of the second day, the...