So- I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that whenever you here of the European theatre of WW2, you know, nazi’s, D-day, battle of the bulge etc, you probably think of the US army and DEFINATLY NOT the U.S. Marine Corps.
Well guess what, until about a week ago, I would have agreed with you until I learned about a certain marine who did in fact, fight the nazi’s, and not only did he fight the nazi’s,
But he succeeded in doing what is arguably the most marine corps thing possible while doing so. Ladies and gentlemen, meet major Perter Ortiz, USMC attaché to the OSS during the pacific theatre of the 2nd world war.
The guy who, according to legend, made 4 SS officers salute FDR while singing the marine corps hymn. So go ahead and take a wiz and grab a snack because this is going to be a ride.
PART 1
So our story begins in New York city, in 1913. Ultimately, Ortiz was a child of three different worlds — you see, Peter Ortiz was an American citizen by birth, a Frenchman by youth and education, and yet, a Spaniard by his father’s blood.
His father, you see, a famed art dealer and appraiser in 1920’s Europe, filled their home with paintings, conversation and other post World War 1 enlightenment ideals captivating Europe during the time. his Swiss born American mother on the other hand, with grace and discipline.
Well, that is until his father left them for a young aspiring Spanish painter he met on a trip when he was young.
So peter and his mother moved back to France where he grew up with her family. A family, who taught him 2 things above all. A never quit work ethic, and a passion for education and learning.
Finding his future in the hills above Grenoble, he learned the languages of Europe — ten in all — and the thrill of motion, of, the wind against his face.
PART 2
So, in 1931, At the age of nineteen, to the shock of his wealthy and pampered upbringing, Peter left privilege behind and enlisted in the French Foreign Legion. A historically known army of French conscripts from all of Frances protectorates and colonies.
Beginning his service at The Legion’s training camp at Sidi Bel-Abbès, training was designed to break boys and to forge them into fighting men. And this is where Ortiz’s legend began. Amid the burning Algerian sand, he became the youngest sergeant in Legion history.
In Morocco, he fought the Rif rebels, which- without going into detail, were essentially pro Moroccan freedom fighters, with ferocity, earning two Croix de Guerre and the respect of veterans twice his age.
Offered a commission and French citizenship, he refused both. He preferred freedom to rank — a free man who fought for something more than orders.
Serving until 1937, peter Ortiz moved to California, becoming a military advisor for Hollywood. Well, that is, until 1939.
PART 3
When war came to Europe again in 1939, he returned to the Legion. And when Germany invaded France a year later, Ortiz, now a lieutenant, led a resistance attack against a German fuel depot and was shot through the hip during his escape.
Captured, he spent fifteen months in German prison camps, escaping five times before making it to neutral Spain and then to Portugal. By the time he boarded a ship to New York, the world was at war again — and he was not done fighting.
So In June 1942, seeking a commission in the United states army, he enlisted instead in the United States Marine Corps as a private, due to the army air corps process being to long. Forty days later, he was commissioned as a lieutenant once the corps realized they had a fully tried combat vet who spoke 10 languages, and was already experienced fighting the Nazi regime.
Six months after that, he became a captain. His superiors wrote during his promotion, “This man is of exceptional value for any operations behind enemy lines.” They were right.
Operation Union: The Marine Behind Enemy Lines
On a frigid night in January 1944, under a moon dimmed by winter clouds, Peter Ortiz leapt from the belly of a British bomber into the mountains of Haute-Savoie, France, along with 6 other members of the OSS.
The snow swallowed him whole as he landed. His mission, code-named Operation Union, was simple in words and perilous in execution: unite the fractured Maquis resistance groups, arm them, train them, and prepare them for the day when the Allies would come.
With him were two men — Colonel Pierre Fourcaud of the French secret service and Captain Thackwaite of Britain’s SOE. Together, they descended into a land of fear and shadows, where the Gestapo’s reach was long and mercy was short, which typically resulted in swift execution of expected spies.
You see, Ortiz carried no false papers, no aliases. What he carried instead, out of pure love for the corps, was his U.S. Marine Corps uniform, complete with his full stack of medals. And… He wore it openly, on most missions.
Thackwaite later said, “Ortiz, who knew not fear, wore his Marine uniform in town and country alike; this cheered the French but alerted the Germans.”
He became a legend to the resistance — l’Américain en uniforme, the American in uniform. To the Germans, he was a ghost who could not be caught.
He organized airdrops of weapons, taught ambush tactics, and negotiated peace among rival Maquis bands. And When four downed RAF pilots were stranded behind German lines, Ortiz stole a Gestapo car, forged papers, and drove them hundreds of miles to the Spanish border. Then, astonishingly, he returned to France — back to the fight, back to the snow, back to danger.
A TOAST TO FDR
And then there was the night of the toast. In a small French club one night, 4 German officers, all liquored up beyond understanding, while on R and R one weekend, were mocking the now infamous “tall American Marine” hurting their efforts and cursing President Franklin D. Roosevelt.
Ortiz, sitting quietly in civilian clothes, listened, intrigued by their liquored-up blathering of American politics. He stood, left the room, and returned to his safe house across the street. When he came back, he wore his full Marine Corps uniform, medals gleaming in the lamplight, and 2 Colt .45, 1 in each hand.
He approached the German table and ordered drinks. “Gentlemen,” he said evenly in a perfect German accent, “a toast — to the President of the United States.” Mr. franklin Delano Roosevelt.
The Germans hesitated, then raised their glasses out of fear. “Another,” Ortiz said, a faint smile on his lips. “To the United States Marine Corps and proceeded to lead them in reciting the marine corps hymn.
The glasses clinked again. No shots fired. No blood spilled. Just the quiet humiliation of arrogance, and the legend of a man who could face the enemy not with rage, but with unflinching dignity.
By the way, its ultimately unclear whether or not that actually happened. However, it is documented by several superiors that he always traveled with his uniform and always wore it when facing the enemy. and would often drink in public bars since he understood both the languages and the cultural nuances associated with the area..
So.. id like to think its true.
By May 1944, his mission complete, Ortiz and his men were airlifted out of France. For his heroism, he received the Navy Cross and the Order of the British Empire. But the war was far from over.
Operation Union II: The Surrender That Saved a Village
Just two months later, Ortiz returned to the skies over France. On August 1, 1944, now a major, he parachuted once more into the mountains — this time leading Operation Union II, commanding a small team of five Marines, an Army Air Force captain, and a Free French officer.
Their mission: to disrupt retreating German forces and support the coming Allied advance.
For two weeks, they waged guerrilla war in the Savoie region — ambushing convoys, blowing up bridges, rallying French civilians. Once again, Ortiz wore his Marine uniform, even when German patrols prowled the woods. “To inspire the people,” he said. And inspire them he did.
Then came the ambush near the village of Centron.
The small American team was surrounded by an entire German battalion. Ortiz and his men fought fiercely, but the villagers begged them to surrender — the Gestapo had burned whole towns for less. Ortiz made his choice.
Walking calmly through the smoke, he approached the German lines under a white flag and demanded to speak to their commander, Major Kolb. In perfect German, he offered to surrender his “entire garrison” if the villagers were spared.
Kolb agreed.
When only three Marines — Ortiz, Sgt. Bodnar, and Sgt. Risler — emerged to surrender, Kolb was stunned. The “garrison” that had held up his battalion was a handful of men. Yet he kept his word. The village of Centron survived.
Ortiz spent the rest of the war in captivity, enduring interrogation and solitary confinement, never betraying a soul. When Allied forces liberated his camp in April 1945, he walked free again — gaunt, but unbroken.
CONCLUSION
After the war, Peter Ortiz returned to Hollywood. He acted in John Ford films alongside John Wayne, appearing in movies like She wore a yellow ribbon, Rio Grande and The Wings of Eagles. He served as technical adviser on 13 Rue Madeleine and Operation Secret — films based on men like him.
He joked about his acting, saying, “I was an awful actor, but I had great fun.” Yet no performance could match the life he had already lived — the Marine who wore his uniform behind enemy lines, who toasted Roosevelt at gunpoint, who surrendered not for defeat, but for compassion.
Colonel Peter Ortiz died in 1988 and was laid to rest at Arlington National Cemetery. Representatives from the United States, Britain, and France stood in silence. In the French village of Centron, the townspeople later named their square Place Peter Ortiz.
A plaque there bears his name and a single phrase:
“He surrendered so that we might live.”
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