Mortar Man

"How old is Sergeant Diamond? Why, my boy, he has been in the Marines ever since they were started in 1775."

Master Gunnery Sergeant Lou Diamond is not 167 years old, but the oldest generals cannot remember when the Marines' famed mortar expert was not somewhere around. Lou Diamond's age is a secret between him and his service-record book, but his friends remember his pitching a one-hit game for the Quantico Marines many years ago, when he must have been at least 50. He rested on that feat, never pitched again.

Last week stories of Lou Diamond's prowess in the Solomons began drifting back to the U.S. On Tulagi he demolished 14 Jap buildings with his trusty 81-mm. mortar. Then he turned to the colonel and bet him $50 he could put a mortar shot down the chimney of the 15th. Lou Diamond won his bet. He was not so successful when a Jap destroyer came prowling around the island one morning before artillery had been hauled in, and planes were not available. His shell fell in the water behind the "can."

"Damn it! Forgot to allow for forward movement," roared bull-voiced Sergeant Diamond.

Lou Diamond is one of the brightest legends in the legend-studded Marine Corps. Accuracy is his passion. He likes to talk about a baseball game at Tientsin in 1934, when a Marine batter hit a line drive that killed a sparrow in flight. In this accident he sees a higher goal for precision marksmen. His other passions are beer, which he guzzles by the case when it is available, and Marine recruits. Youngsters in the Marine Corps fear the grey-maned giant as much as they respect him.

"Come on, you mortar men, rise and shine," he says softly, before reveille. The ensuing scramble is pure bedlam, because the last two men of the platoon to answer roll call get the "yardbird" detail. When the Marines sailed for the Solomons, officers debated whether to take ancient Lou Diamond overseas. Lou bellowed orders to his platoon so boisterously that he sounded like all the sergeants in the Corps. He went along.

Last week Lou Diamond's friends at San Diego did not know exactly where he was. One report had him somewhere in the South Pacific, wearing a grey beard, trying to figure out how to hit an airplane with a mortar shell. Lou never could forget that batter who brought down the sparrow.

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