As the shadows draw long and the days get cooler, we recall not the end of the waning fall but the beginnings of momentous things…and not so momentous.
First we must say “happy birthday” to our sister service, the United States Marine Corps, born on this day in 1775. Two battalions were authorized but only one of what were called “Continental Marines” of about 500 was ever established. The intent was that they be sent on an invasion of Halifax, the logistical base in Canada, but the British reinforced it before the enterprise could be undertaken. They operated in a raiding capacity while establishing reputation for their global reach, attacking Nassau in 1776, joining the Continentals and militia at Princeton in 1777, then participating in the Penobscot expedition in 1779. Smaller groups struck inland as far as the Mississippi and down to the Gulf of Mexico. Though this force was disbanded in 1783, the Marines take this organization to be their origin, and their day to get noisily drunk as long as they aren’t otherwise engaged.
In 1864, this is the date William T Sherman’s memoirs uses for the beginning of his movement from Atlanta to Savanna: most sources start it on 14 November, but Atlanta was torched on 12 November, so Sherman’s date makes more sense. Moving an army group of that size on a chevauchee (in this context, a strategic raid) of that scale would take a few days on the road network of the time. Six weeks later the force would reach the Atlantic coast, none the worse for wear.
Exactly a year later, Henry Wirz, a one-armed, Swiss-born physician was hanged in Washington DC for the new offence of “war crimes.” As commandant of a prison camp that the prisoners dubbed Andersonville (the proper name was Camp Sumner) for its entire 14 month existence, he was found guilty of criminally conspiring to kill the nearly 13,000 prisoners who died in the camp, in addition to eleven counts of murder that he almost certainly did commit. Though he had tried to get more resources for his charges the murders were rather blatant and witnessed, so he was hanged at the Old Capitol Prison on 10 November 1865. To this day the Wirz matter is controversial in some circles as it could be argued in the abstract that all war is a crime, and that as one of very few Confederates executed (and conveniently a non-American national) he was scapegoated as a cover for the deaths in Union camps.
A century later, on 10 November 1983, the general public got its first glimpse of a weird little program called “Windows 1.0” at an electronics trade show. It was first pushed as a driver for OS/2 applications, and was not released to production for a little over two years. But it was an easier interface for the operators of the fledgling PCs to use, even if it was once described as “pouring molasses in the Arctic.” As older computer users recall, its first function was as a sales tool for mice. Would that it were that simple now…