I read a book recently called "Neptune's Inferno" about the naval battles around Guadalcanal, and there was a story about a marine unit that was surrounded near the shore, and they wanted to be extracted. A destroyer that had been providing fire support sent a boat in to pick them up, and one of them was Chesty Puller.
There was a lot of friction between the Navy and the Marines at that time because many Marines felt the Navy had abandoned them.
The Marines came to forgive the Navy, more less, when the light surface forces (destroyers and the new anti-aircraft cruisers, bristling with 5″ rapid-firing guns) showed a gleeful willingness to plow up great swathes of Japanese-bearing tropical jungle. They’d literally hose out corridors through the undergrowth with their gunfire. No less than Lt. Col. Lewis D. “Chesty” Puller expressed his gratitude after having observed the fun from the ship that had saved him and his team. I loved the destroyer captain's reaction when, just prior to going back ashore, Puller observed to the captain that he, Puller, wouldn’t have captain’s job for anything. The captain was amazed; surely wouldn’t he prefer to have a shower and a bed when the day’s work was done? Puller asked him when he got hit, where was he, and then pointed out, “When I get hit, I know where I am.”