Horse Patrols, March - July, 1928

"I haven't bought my horse yet for I haven't found one that suits me but have the saddle and bridle but this is good horse country so I should have one soon now. That is about all the fun you have down here is riding and I might as well do it."[1]

Be it horses, mules, or oxes, Nicaragua in the 1920s, with its lack of paved roadways was necessarily good hoof country. Doubly so if you were an officer and could afford a horse. When, at the end of March, a fellow Marine officer organized a mounted detachment, Roberts began the search for his own horse in earnest. This would be a surefire way to be chosen to lead patrols and combat camp boredom. As March came to a close and rainy season approached, the dust and heat would soon warp into mud and humidity. Sitting high on a horse would become a prized luxury.

Correspondence from Harold C. Roberts to Faith N. Roberts 30 March and 6 April, 1928, Folder 12, COLL 2678, Archives Branch, Marine Corps History Division, Quantico, VA, 3.

Roberts did not have to wait long to find his horse. In early April he wrote his wife, "it looks as though 'pappa' will receive another Navy Cross!" Roberts had just finished his first command combat patrol and he did it from the seat of his new horse: Hodido. Hodido ("which is the spanish equivalent to 'God-damn'!") faired exceptionally well on his first combat patrol. He was surefooted in the all-night patrol and kept cool when the patrol came under bandit fire.[2]

Not only was Hodido's demeanor fitting for a Marine, he was also a fine-looking horse.

"He's a peach, long lean and very high sprited and all white excepting for his mane and tail which is light bay."[2] 

Pride in Hodido's look and performance, however, did not save Roberts' body from the realities of hours in the the saddle. After his patrol he admitted that though "not a Marine got even a scratch out of it" he still had to take some extended time afterwards to rest: "my poor fanny is as sore as a boil. I'll do no pleasure of riding for a few days."

This soreness was a small price to pay. The day after his patrol he recieved two high profile telegrams congratulating his successful attack from "Col Dunlap who commands the 11th Regt. and one from Gen. Feland who commands the whole 2nd Brigade [...] Believe me it was worth an all nights ride too; just to see those devils scurry away with the 'tails between their legs'."[3]

Roberts had finally met the enemy.

Not only did he confront Sandino's rebels - he had performed bravely. The back pain served only enhanced his pleasure at having, at last, a real enemy to pursue through the jungle.

Even when his excessive riding landed him in the hospital Roberts remained upbeat, eager to return to the patrol and Hodido. His "stiff back which slowly became sorer and stiffer" ended laying him up in the camp for nearly two weeks. Roberts' doctor gave him a diagnosis of "neuritis entailing the spinal accessory nerve," essentially excessive inflammation.[4] The back pain was a worthy sacrifice, however, now that he had demonstrated his bonafides in bravery and competence in command. While recovering from his back injury he grew a jaunty little moustache which he waxed into points with pride. It inaguarted a new phase of his time in Nicaragua.

After two weeks bedrest Roberts was back in the saddle confidently leading his men on jungle patrols. 

That is until a new adventure captured his attention.