One Cousin, Page McCarthy, a confederate captain, had fought the last legal duel in Virginia, killing his man over the reputation of a Richmond belle.
Lewis Puller's great-uncle, Robert Williams, a West Point graduate, deserted the South in the Civil War to command a Federal division at Gettysburg, which fought against three of his brothers. The Virginia branch of the family never spoke to him afterwards, though he came to a new renown by marrying the widow of Stephen A. Douglas. Lewis Puller had another cousin who would become a famous soldier: George S. Patton.
When Lewis was less than two years old, he won a Beautiful Baby Contest in his village, and when a Richmond photographer chucked him under the chin in quest of a smile, he got for his pains a belligerent scowl which was to change little in his lifetime.
He was quieter than most boys, with a level openly curious gaze. At age four he broke his arm in a fall. When the doctor removed the cast, the physician shook his head, explained the bones were crooked "and snapped them anew without warning. The boy grimaced, but did not make a sound.
Lewis devoured books on war and warriors that were beyond his youthful grasp, but he had an impassioned interest in military life.
Lewis was hardly more than twelve when he killed his first wild turkey, quite by mistake "and out of season. Alarmed, he stayed in the woods until nightfall, then took the bird to the home of a Negro woman who reassured him: "Me. Lewis, don't you bother your head about it. I'll pick him and dress him up nice and take him to your mama tomorrow, and she'll be pleased as punch."" But Mrs. Puller was not pleased and the next day gave Lewis a tongue-lashing he long remembered.
On June 27, the day after his birthday, Lewis took the train to Richmond and enlisted in the Marine Corps, bound for boot camp at Paris Island, South Carolina. Puller and the other recruits arrived at Paris Island and were herded into quarantine stations.