 Son, that's a horse's head, a thoroughbred horse. And that black bar there means first. First in name and first in battle. There's only one outfit that fits that description. It's the first cavalry division. A horse, me. Did you throw his ride from on horseback and charge the enemy? Well, that was the idea up to the last war. One of our regiments fought on horseback in the Civil War. The cavalry were the tanks and reconnaissance of those days. The end of the Civil War didn't end the fighting for the cavalry. They had a job to do out west, fighting Indians. They got down from their horses pretty often to do the actual shooting like General Custer in his seventh regiment at the Battle of the Little Big Horn. That seventh regiment of Custer's was the granddaddy of the first cavalry division, which was formed in 1921. They kept operating with horses until they went to the South Pacific in 1943 as doe foots. Cavalry sabers were turned in for bayonets. And each GI did his own steeple chasing. I guess they figured the jungle was too rough for the tender skin of a horse. And old brother, so was that combat training. We got to know what the nickname tender foot really meant. Tender feet and wet feet, too, when we practiced amphibious landings. In February 1944, we went gunning for the Japs on Los Negros Island in the Admiralty's. It was a good thing we didn't have our mounts along. The racket those navy guns made would have scared them to death like it almost did us. We loaded the landing craft the same way we did on maneuvers. But it wasn't a rehearsal this time. It was a public performance. Our throats were drier than they'd been even after a hard ride on a dusty trail. Got a sure OK, looked easy. But our troubles was just beginning. The Japs had imperial marines to protect their airstrip. They was crack troops, big fellas, like the little mavericks we'd expected. Half of them was local drunken. They'd charge us, singin' deep in the heart of Texas, honest to God. Didn't fool us, none of them. Ain't heard a jab with a Texas draw yet. It was our real wildcat scram. But tough as they were, we bought them a point blank rain, sometimes man to man. We had a lot of heroes in that scrap, but not all lived to get their medals, including this signal corps cameraman who made his last picture that day. Just the same, we beat the Japs hollow, killed off our big herd of airstrips in their islands. The chief was pleased. Now, every man, tank, and gun could point over the water to the Philippines, to batang. The first cavalry was the first to hit Leite in November 1944. We rode some strange beasts into the Landon, Amtrak, Buffalo, Alligators, LCVPs, rough ridin' too. Didn't get saddled so, but almost got seasick. Made our stomach steadier, though, to see the rocket ships. And the Air Force, given the Japs that goin' on it, they called the place we came ashore a white beach. Wasn't quite so white when we left it. We were pinned down. Some of our boys caught jab bullets. It would have been worse, though, without that mechanized stuff they gave us for horses. Pretty tough hide on those Shermans and Amtrax. Tougher than the ponies. Tougher even than the doputs. Leite was no breeze. It was hard fightin'. We had to smoke the enemy out of their holes like coyotes. But we smoked them out all right. The supply boys did great work hustlin' stuff to the fire line. We kept blastin' at them with rifle fire. Bazooka. Rifle grenades, so we'd put the first cavalry brand on every Jap Maverick. Then we moved into Tuckloban, Leite's number one city. Leite's are mighty glad to see us. Us and those good old American smokes we carried. There wasn't time for a long break, though. In January, we were on Luzon, driving hell bent to the capital, Manila. Drivin' 114 miles in 60 hours. Stoppin' only to smash resistance. But we did it. We beat every other outfit into Manila. Not just for the glory, but to avenge one of our own troopers. An officer who had commanded the brigade of the first cavalry back in 1939 before he went to the Philippines in Corregidor. The man whose name was Jonathan M. Wainwright. Our next APO was Tokyo. We figured invading Japan would be plenty rough. But a little something called the atomic bomb made it possible to enter Tokyo ridin' in a parade instead of fightin' our way in. And figure any other outfit would make it before us, did ya? Smart lookin' troopers, aren't they? Mind you, I said troopers, not soldiers. We did this job without horses, all right. But we're still troopers. Troopers of the first cavalry division.