
When I started training as a Marine more than 50 years ago one of the first things we were taught was the call and response “Semper Fi” followed quickly by “Do or Die”. But to Marines, Semper Fi, Semper Fidelis—Always Faithful—is more than just a motto. It becomes a personal belief system, a statement of individual integrity and a way of life. Faithful to country, faithful to the Corps, faithful to fellow Marines, faithful to duty. It reflects your faith in the Marine Corps and your fellow Marines.
How did Marines come to adopt this distinctly non martial motto? Other more military sounding mottos and nicknames come to mind: “Devil Dogs”, “First to Fight”, and “Leathernecks”. But Semper Fidelis has become the way Marines see themselves, so much so that their greeting to one another is “Semper Fi”. The same ethos is embodied in an unofficial Marine Corps motto, “No Man Left Behind”.
But what is the origin of this motto that seems to sum up the entire philosophy of the Marine Corps?
The United States Marine Corps is known for its discipline, dedication, and fierce loyalty, qualities that are symbolized by Semper Fidelis. Translated from Latin, the phrase means “Always Faithful.” But like many traditions within the military, the motto is rooted in a rich history that stretches back hundreds of years.
The Marine Corps was established in 1775 as the Continental Marines, but the famous motto did not appear until more than a century later. By the early 19th century, several mottos had been associated with the Marines, including “Fortitudine” (With Fortitude) and “By Sea and by Land.” While these phrases captured elements of the Marines’ mission, they lacked the enduring emotional impact that would ultimately come with Semper Fidelis.
It was in 1883 that the motto was formally adopted under the leadership of the 8th Commandant, Colonel Charles McCawley. Colonel McCawley likely chose that motto because it embodies the values of loyalty, faithfulness and dedication that he believed should define every Marine. Unfortunately, we will never know his exact reason for choosing this specific motto because he did not leave any documentation about his thought process. Regardless, from that point on, the motto became inseparable from the identity of the Corps.
The phrase “Semper Fidelis” has much older origins than its Marine Corps adoption. It’s believed to have originated from phrases used by senators in ancient Rome, with the earliest recorded use as a motto dating back to the French town of Abbeville in 1369. The phrase has been used by various European families since the 16th century, and possibly as early as the 13th century.
The earliest recorded military use was by the Duke of Beaufort’s Regiment of Foot, raised in southwestern England in 1685. The motto also has connections to Irish, Scottish, and English nobility, as well as 17th-century European military units, some of whose members may have emigrated to American colonies in the 1690s
The choice of the Latin phrase by Colonel McCawley was likely deliberate. Latin carries with it a sense of permanence and tradition, and its concise wording communicated volumes in only two words. “Always Faithful” perfectly captured the bond that must exist between Marines and the responsibilities they shoulder. Marines are expected to remain faithful to the mission, to their comrades in arms, and to the United States, regardless of the personal cost. It is this idea of unshakable fidelity that has come to define what it means to wear the Eagle, Globe, and Anchor.
Since its adoption, Semper Fidelis has carried Marines through every conflict the United States has faced. From the battlefields of World War I, where Marines earned the name “Devil Dogs,” to the grueling island campaigns of the Pacific in World War II, to the frozen battle fields of Korea, to the steaming jungles of Vietnam, Marines have demonstrated again and again what it means to be “Always Faithful.” In modern times, whether in Iraq, Afghanistan, or in humanitarian missions across the globe, this motto continues to serve as a reminder of the Corps’ unwavering commitment.
The phrase has also influenced the broader culture of the Marines, inspiring the title of the official Marine Corps march, “Semper Fidelis,” composed by John Philip Sousa in 1888, which remains a powerful symbol of pride and esprit de corps.
The motto’s meaning extends beyond active service. Marines pride themselves on being “once a Marine, always a Marine,” and Semper Fidelis reflects that lifelong bond. Even after leaving the uniform behind, Marines carry that sense of loyalty into civilian life, honoring the values and traditions of their service. For many, it becomes a central guiding principle throughout their lives. Marine veterans always say “I was a Marine”.
In the end, the motto “Semper Fidelis” is far more than a catchy phrase. It is both a promise and a challenge—a pledge of unwavering loyalty and a challenge to live up to the highest standards of duty, honor, and fidelity. When Marines declare “Semper Fi,” they acknowledge not only their devotion to the Marine Corps, but also the unbreakable loyalty that binds them together as brothers and sisters in arms.
The celebration of the 250th anniversary of the signing of the Declaration of Independence is coming up next year on July 4th. But what about the events leading up to this? What about the men and women who helped make this happen? There are events coming up to commemorate the 250th anniversary of the founding of the Continental Navy and the Continental Marines in 1775. We will be holding commemorative celebrations here in West Virginia and there will be a national event in Philadelphia in October of this year.












When Evidence Isn’t Enough: The Crisis of Science in Public Life
By John Turley
On September 23, 2025
In Commentary, Politics
While I would never call myself a scientist, as a physician my whole professional life is built on the belief in and the trust of science. I am distressed that so many people have chosen to disregard trust in science in favor of misinformation.
Throughout history, scientific discovery has been humanity’s most reliable guide to progress. From the germ theory of disease to space exploration, science has reshaped how we live and what we believe possible. Yet in recent years, the very foundation of this methodical pursuit—evidence, observation, and experimentation—has come under sustained political, cultural, and economic attack. This struggle is often described as “the war on science,” a phrase that captures how debates once rooted in policy have shifted into battles over truth itself.
The numbers tell a stark story. The National Science Foundation has terminated roughly 1,040 grants that would have awarded $739 million to researchers and has awarded only 52 undergraduate research grants in 2025, compared to about 200 annually since 2015. The proposed cuts are staggering. Trump will request a $4 billion budget for the NSF in fiscal year 2026, a 55% reduction from what Congress appropriated for 2025.
At the heart of the conflict lies mistrust. Science requires patience since answers evolve as new data emerge. But in a world driven by instant communication and ideological certainties, that evolving nature is often cast as contradiction or weakness. Critics dismiss changing conclusions not as hallmarks of rigorous inquiry, but as evidence of unreliability. The result is a dangerous fracture; science depends on trust in evidence, while many segments of society increasingly place trust in ideology or anecdote or even outright falsehoods.
Climate change is one of the most visible fronts in this battle. Virtually every major scientific body worldwide affirms that human activities are driving global warming. Yet climate scientists are routinely accused of bias or conspiracy, their data questioned, and their motives impugned. What is often overlooked in the controversy is not the complexity of climate systems—scientists have long acknowledged uncertainties—but the political and economic interests threatened by the solutions science prescribes. When climate scientists publish evidence of global warming, their research doesn’t just describe weather patterns—it challenges powerful industries built on fossil fuels.
Public health provides another stark example. During the COVID-19 pandemic, scientific guidance became subject to fierce political polarization. Masking policies, vaccine safety, and even simple social distancing rules morphed into partisan symbols rather than matters of medical evidence. Scientists found themselves vilified, their professional debates distorted into talking points. The losers in this exchange were not the scientists themselves but the broader public, denied clear trust in institutions that are dedicated to safeguarding health.
Underlying these conflicts are powerful currents. Some industries resist regulation by casting doubt on findings that threaten profit. Certain political movements thrive on skepticism of expertise, channeling populist distrust of “elites” toward scientists. And in the swirl of social media, misinformation spreads more rapidly than peer-reviewed studies, eroding the influence of evidence before consensus can take hold.
What makes this particularly concerning is the timing. America’s main scientific and technological rivals are rising fast. In terms of federal Research and Development funding as a percentage of GDP, U.S. investment has dropped for decades, and the lead that the U.S. enjoyed over China’s R&D expenditure has largely been erased.
While the war on science is often treated as a distinctly modern dilemma, born of political polarization, mass media, and cultural distrust of expertise, its roots stretch back centuries. Galileo was silenced for challenging religious dogma. Early physicians were scorned when they argued that invisible germs, not miasmas or curses, caused disease. During the Enlightenment of the 17th and 18th centuries, thinkers faced their own version of this struggle—a battle between dogma and reason, authority and evidence, tradition and discovery. In every case, vested interests—whether theological, cultural, or economic—feared the disruption that scientific truth carried. Understanding those earlier conflicts provides valuable context for our challenges today.
The stakes today, however, feel higher. Our era’s challenges—climate change, pandemics, artificial intelligence, genetic engineering—demand unprecedented reliance on scientific understanding. To wage war on science is, in effect, to wage war on our own best chance for survival and responsible progress. If truth becomes negotiable, then evidence loses meaning, and with it, the possibility of reasoned self-government. That is why the war on science cannot be dismissed as a technical squabble—it is a philosophical contest echoing the Enlightenment battles that shaped modern civilization.
Ultimately, the struggle is less about data than about values. Do we commit to curiosity, openness, and the willingness to change our minds? Or do we cling to certainties that soothe but endanger us in the end? The war on science will not be won by scientists alone. It can only be resolved if society restores trust in evidence as the most reliable compass we have—however unsettling the direction it may point. There may be alternative opinions but there are no alternative facts.