Fae Verlin Moore
Sergeant Fae V. Moore served with Easy Company, Second Battalion, 8th Marines.
He was killed in action at the battle of Tarawa on 20 November 1943.
Branch
Marine Corps Regular
Service Number 317600
Current Status
Accounted For
as of 10 August 2016
Recovery Organization
History Flight 2015 Expedition
Read DPAA Press Release
History
Fae Verlin Moore was born in Sheridan County, Nebraska on 16 May 1920. His parents, Alonzo and Mary Moore, owned a ranch outside of Chadron; their children grew up learning the ropes of rural life. As the youngest of ten kids – and the smallest of five boys – Fae probably worked double time to keep pace on the farm and get his education at Beaver Valley School. In 1931, the Moores moved a few miles and across state lines to the Pine Ridge Reservation in South Dakota. Years passed; as older siblings married and moved away, more of the work fell to Fae. He developed into a skilled ranch hand and carpenter, and must have been an invaluable help to his aging parents. At the time of the 1940 census, nineteen-year-old Fae was the only youthful helper left on the farm.
Fae registered with Selective Service in July 1941, and the act may have inspired his decision to enlist. He traveled to the nearest recruiting station – almost 600 miles away in Minneapolis – and on 18 August 1941 joined the United States Marine Corps. Within a week, he was posing for his service record portrait, eyes fixed in a flinty stare.
“The Marines are a lot tougher and stricter than the Army or Navy,” Moore wrote from San Diego. Nevertheless, he adapted well to life in the Marines. He brought a farm boy’s familiarity with firearms to boot camp , and scored “Expert” on the rifle range. Although slightly shorter than average, he was broad-shouldered and solidly built – the perfect physique for a crew-serviced weapon. When he reported to Easy Company, Second Battalion, 8th Marines for duty, Moore was assigned to the weapons platoon to lug ammunition for a 60mm mortar.
Moore was stationed at Camp Elliott, California, when Pearl Harbor was attacked. The Second Marine Brigade (which included Moore’s 8th Marines) scrambled to prepare for overseas deployment. On 5 January 1942, E/2/8 boarded the former liner USNT Matsonia and sailed from San Diego to Tutuila, American Samoa. The regiment would spend several months on garrison duty, preparing to repel an expected Japanese attack that never came. During these anticipatory but relatively calm months, Moore practiced and practiced with his mortar, learning every role from ammo carrier to squad leader. In April, he was rewarded with a promotion to Private First Class.
In late October 1942, the 8th Marines sailed for the Solomon Islands and joined the battle for Guadalcanal on 4 November 1942. Here, Fae Moore got to put his mortar training to use on living targets. How he fared in his first combat experience is not known, but Moore emerged from the ‘Canal jungles in January 1943 as a changed man – physically intact, but suffering the effects of physical hardship and deprivation, and the strains of seeing friends killed and wounded. Fortunately, his regiment was bound for a long spell of rehabilitation in New Zealand.
From February through September 1943, Moore and his buddies rested and re-trained in New Zealand. Although he was repeatedly admitted to sick bay – likely the effects of a recurring tropical disease picked up on the ‘Canal – his skills with the mortar continued to improve. Moore was promoted twice (to corporal and to sergeant) during his time in New Zealand, and was made a mortar section leader in charge of two squads.
Moore also enjoyed his time on liberty. He met a “Kiwi” girl named Jill Hudson; their courtship was swift, and the two were soon engaged. Unfortunately, little is known about what must have been an important and happy time in Fae Moore’s life.
That October – almost exactly a year since they departed from Samoa for Guadalcanal – the 8th Marines boarded transports at Wellington for a final round of training exercises. When the ships headed out to sea instead of returning to town, the Marines aboard began to realize that the rumors were true: they were bound for combat once again.
The amphibious assault on Betio, Tarawa atoll – Operation GALVANIC – commenced on 20 November 1943. The Second Battalion 8th Marines was given the job of assaulting the easternmost of three landing beaches – “Red 3” – and, once ashore, moving inland to quickly secure the airfield that covered much of the tiny island’s surface. A heavy and morale-boosting naval bombardment convinced many Marines that the task would be a simple one, and spirits were high at 0900 when their amphibious tractors started paddling for the beach.
The Japanese were quick to recover. Shells began bursting over the LVTs. “As the tractors neared the shore the air filled with the smoke and fragments of shells fired from 3-inch guns,” notes A Brief History of the 8th Marines. “Fortunately, casualties had been light on the way to the beach, but once the men dismounted and struggled to get beyond the beach, battle losses increased dramatically.” Most of the beach defenses were still intact, and these were supported by row after row of pillboxes, rifle pits, and machine gun nests.
Under normal circumstances, Sergeant Moore’s mortars would land well after the first waves of riflemen got ashore, and provide supporting fire from a relatively well-guarded rear. On Red 3, however, the lead platoons were pinned to the beach. Mortarman Bill Ashley recalled the chaos and horror of the landing – and how quickly the losses mounted.
Our tractor was in the third wave. We had two mortar squads and the weapons platoon leader, Lt. Thomas P. Perkins, aboard. Our tractor was hit going in, had a hole above the waterline. Water was pouring in. Lt. Perkins gave the order to remove helmets and bail water. We did, and got to the beach, but not over the sea wall.
We had one man killed going over the side, Howard E. Ragsdale, and another was wounded, Ottis L. Snelson. We immediately set up our mortars. Our section leader, Sgt. Fae Moore, started over the wall to locate a target. He was killed instantly.
In a few minutes, Major Chamberlin appeared. He ordered s to leave our mortars and follow him. He said he needed us on the left flank to help support F-2-8.
Alonzo and Mary Moore were preparing for Christmas when the telegram arrived. Since Fae’s enlistment, they had moved into Chadron proper to help take care of the next generation of Moores; a grandson, Raymond, was living with them while attending Chadron High School. Losing Fae – “her baby boy” – was especially devastating for Mary. “SEND MY SON’S BODY BACK TO US IF POSSIBLE” she cabled.
Sadly, Fae’s death was only the start of a terrible year for Mary Moore. In May, seventeen-year-old Raymond drowned in a fishing accident. Two months later Philip Moore, who had long resided with Alonzo and Mary, died of natural causes. And in October, Alonzo Moore suffered a fatal heart attack and died in their home. This litany of tragedy was remarked upon in the Chadron Record: “four deaths in this family this year.” Mary held on to the belief that her youngest son’s body, at least, would be returned after the war.
She would be dreadfully disappointed. In 1947, she learned that Fae’s remains could not be located on the battlefield. Two years later, his case was closed with the cold statement “permanently non-recoverable.” Mary spent the rest of her days in Chadron as matriarch of a huge family – her nine surviving children brought forth 24 grandchildren and 34 great-grandchildren – but losing Fae left her “broken up.” She died in 1958, never knowing what became of her son’s remains.
The truth would have brought her little comfort. Tarawa’s aftermath is defined by confusing and contradictory reports, and those pertaining to Fae Verlin Moore are among the most varied and unhelpful of all. Eyewitnesses like Bill Ashley confirmed Moore’s death in action, and he was identified at the time of his burial – but where and when said burial took place was a matter of debate. Battalion muster rolls reported his burial in “Division Cemetery #3, Row A, Grave 35,” while his casualty card indicates the same cemetery and row, but Grave 23. Marine Corps Graves Registration placed Moore in an entirely different location: “East Division Cemetery, Row A, Grave 13.” A marker with his name was eventually placed in a memorial (Cemetery 33, Plot 15, Row 2, Grave 5) built roughly over the site of East Division Cemetery – and yet another marker went up at a spot on eastern Betio dubbed “Cemetery 3” which was on the opposite end of the island from Sergeant Moore’s landing location. (It is possible that the Marine name “Division Cemetery 3” was misinterpreted by the Navy as Cemetery 3 – while the names are similar, the locations are very different.)
No other man on Betio had so many different possible burial locations – and none of them were any help whatsoever to the 604th Quartermaster Graves Registration Company. This unit was tasked with recovering and identifying the Tarawa dead in 1946, and they had a terrible time with both tasks. The Navy “beautification” project obliterated graves in favor of memorials; some original burials were difficult to find, while others were completely overlooked. Grave markers might, or might not, actually have bodies buried beneath; if they did, there was no guarantee that the name on the marker matched the man.
The 604th did not record who, if anyone, they found beneath the isolated Cemetery 3 marker. From Cemetery 33 they recovered more than 100 remains, far fewer than anticipated, and mostly unidentifiable. And from the old Division Cemetery 3 – rebuilt by the Navy as “Cemetery 27“ – they found not a single man. The monument marker of Cemetery 27 stood above undisturbed sand: there were no indications than anyone had ever been buried in the area. Nor did Fae Moore’s name appear on the memorial plaque nearby.
Sergeant Fae Moore’s ultimate resting place was an utter mystery for more than seventy years.
In 2015, the non-profit group History Flight conducted an archaeological dig at a shipyard on Betio. This expedition, the result of years of research and data supplied by ground penetrating radar and a cadaver dog, found the original “Cemetery 27” burial trench beneath a parking lot – quite some distance from the memorial location. The remains of 46 men were recovered by History Flight and handed over to the Defense POW/MIA Accounting Agency for laboratory analysis.
Researchers began working through a list of Marines once reported buried in “Cemetery 27” and looking for potential matches between physical remains and original medical records. One set – the 23rd in the row – bore a striking physical resemblance to the missing sergeant from Chadron. With the weight of evidence leaning in the right direction, Marine Corps representatives contacted Lawrence Denton of Denver with a pointed question: “What does the name Fae Moore mean to you?” Quite a lot – Moore was Denton’s uncle. A DNA sample confirmed the hypothesis: Fae Verlin Moore had indeed been buried in Cemetery 27, just a few yards from where he fell on 20 November 1943.
The official identification was announced on 10 August 2016. On 6 October, he was laid to rest near his parents in Beaver Valley Cemetery, Sheridan County, Nebraska.
Decorations
Purple Heart
For wounds resulting in his death, 20 November 1943.
Next Of Kin Address
Address of mother, Mrs. Mary Moore.
Location Of Loss
Sergeant Moore was killed near the seawall at Betio’s Red Beach 3.
Fae V. Moore was my uncle, my Mothers youngest sibling. Although I was only 6 years old at the time the telegragh of his loss arrived, I will never forget it. Mother passed away in 2000, but I don’t believe she ever got over Fae’s loss.
When I received the call in 2916 that his body had been recovered, I was overcome with emotion myself. My wife and I attended the Memorial in Chadron that Fall. It is a memory I shall cherish as long as I live.