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Fingerprints, Teeth, and Guadalcanal's Oldest Unknowns.

In the aftermath of the Battle of Edson’s Ridge, eight unidentifiable Americans were buried in the First Marine Division Cemetery on Guadalcanal. Only one is still unknown.

The bodies were brought from the damp jungles, from the watery lagoons, from the smoky and reeking slopes of the Ridge; swathed in bandages from aid stations, covered in crusted blood from multiple wounds, sometimes intact and sometimes in pieces. Captured laborers, stripped to the waist and pouring sweat, hacked at the grass-covered ground digging grave after grave in rows of ten as the MPs glared and shouted.

The growing line of stretchers and shrouds brought a hellish smell that kept most men at a respectful distance far upwind. A few moved among the bodies looking for casualty tags and identification discs; finding none, they pulled limp hands from under ponchos and peered into mouths set in shattered skulls.

POWs dig graves in the First Marine Division Cemetery, Guadalcanal.
It was mid-September 1942 and two rival armies were reeling from several days and nights of desperate fighting on Guadalcanal. Japanese forces launched a massive, multi-pronged assault aimed at capturing Henderson Field; they were held off by the determined efforts of multiple Marine units in several sectors. The focus of the fighting gave a land feature a new name: a steep rise now called “Raider’s Ridge,” “Edson’s Ridge,” or by those who fought over it, “Bloody Ridge.” The 1st Marine Raider Battalion, supported by surviving Paramarines and reinforced by 2/5th Marines and the 1st Pioneer Battalion, blunted the main thrust of the assaults that began on 12 September and lasted until dawn on 14 September. At other parts of the line, 3/5th Marines fought off an attack by the Oka Battalion; 3/1st Marines defeated the Kuma Battalion at the Overland Trail. The 11th Marines provided artillery support to all sectors. Japanese infiltrators got through the lines and attacked artillery batteries and headquarters units. Other Marines were killed by shellfire, on patrols, or on their way to get medical treatment; at least one man accidentally shot himself, and two may have been deliberately shot by other Marines.[1] In terms of casualties, the defenders gave better than they got, but the concentrated fighting over those few days resulted in nearly 100 Americans confirmed killed or missing in action.
Up until this point, every man buried in the First Marine Division Cemetery on Guadalcanal – just over a hundred individuals, mostly Marines but with a few sailors here and there – was identified at the time of his burial. This was due, in large part, to the relatively slow pace of casualties suffered in defensive positions.[2] Most burials were done singly or in small groups, and often a member of the dead man’s unit would be present to verbally confirm his identity and place a marker. First Sergeant Abraham Felber described a relatively peaceful burial at the cemetery in August 1942: “It was a very impressive scene, with the banks of pearly clouds hanging low over the purple mountains and the rumbling thud of artillery drowning out the intoning voice of the chaplain at his melancholy task.”[3] Even a mass casualty event like the battle of the Tenaru was a relatively simple affair: the battle took place quite close to the cemetery; most of the fighting was completed within 12 hours; the dead men were mostly from 2/1st Marines, and the survivors of the battalion dug the graves for their buddies.[4]
Marines believed to be from 2/1 gather around the graves of their buddies killed at the Tenaru.

The Ridge was different in terms of duration of conflict, number of units and individuals involved, and the scale of terrain covered. The Americans ultimately retained control of the field, but this control was not uninterrupted; Edson’s series of strategic withdrawals meant giving up ground to the Japanese who occupied the areas for a few hours or a few days. Retrieval of the dead was not possible until the fighting ended. Heavy shelling, bombing, and small-arms fire reduced living men to corpses, and bodies to shreds. Marlin Groft described the scene on 14 September:

As the morning sun began illuminating the ridge, its light exposed the utter horror that the night battle had left in its wake. Bodies, mostly Japanese, were sprawled across the gore-splattered ground, lying twisted in every imaginable contortion. Blood lay in pools on the ground…. Many seemed to have been hit repeatedly by the intense gunfire, while others had been torn apart by the devastating work done by the artillerymen. Where the shellfire was heaviest, severed limbs and bloody guts littered the ground as if dumped from an airplane. There were headless bodies, body-less heads, and limbless torsos. By our feeble barbed wire entanglements, dead enemy soldiers were piled up, while others, unable to fall, hung snagged in death from the ridge's small, spindly trees like ghastly Halloween figures.

Edgar Allan Poe could have set the scene around us. Our ridge had become a charnel house permeated by the stench of death, which worsened as the mercilessly hot sun slid higher into the sky.[5]

Marines ventured out into this hellscape to search for buddies missing for two or three days, or even more. A Raider platoon commanded by 1Lt. John “Blackjack” Salmon occupied an advance position on the night of 12 September; they were overrun and the survivors scattered, with some thrashing through a boggy lagoon to reach friendly lines. The Japanese held this area until driven off at the battle’s end, and Salmon himself led a patrol to search for his missing men around 17 September. “We found three badly decomposed bodies in the near vicinity of [Pvt. Malcolm J.] Hogan’s position,” he reported, “and although we were positive that the bodies were those of Marines, positive personal identification was impossible.”[6] Historian Joseph H. Alexander explains the challenges confronting these search parties:

Positive identification of the remains was difficult, grisly work. Slash wounds typically cause much more bleeding than punctures; the features of the dead would have been blackened by dried blood. Also, bodies could readily have been blown up by subsequent high explosives – Charlie Company’s battleground the first night became ground zero for countless artillery barrages during the second night’s clash. And the Japanese executioners may have looted their victim’s belongings, including dogtags. Finally, those conducing the search were hardly forensic scientists or graves registration experts. They were Marines, looking for slain fellow Marines, but in a dense jungle still infested with vengeful snipers and Japanese patrols on the same mission for their own missing and dead.[7]

They also found evidence that a few Marines had been dismembered or tortured to death by Japanese captors. Such a fate befell Marlin Groft’s platoon sergeant, Stanley Kops. “One of the men told me Kops died a hard death,” Groft said. “I did not ask for details.”[8]

Many Marine bodies were found by these search efforts, but some were not located. In the aftermath of the Ridge battle, Marine units involved reported numerous men as missing, or “body not recovered” if reliable witnesses confirmed their deaths:

Unit (Company) Name Missing or KIA/BNR
1st Parachute Battalion (A)
Corporal Joseph F. Maye
PFC Raymon W. Herndon
Missing
KIA/BNR
1st Raider Battalion (A)
KIA/BNR
1st Raider Battalion (B)
Pvt. Frank L. Whittlesey
KIA/BNR
1st Raider Battalion (C)
1Sgt. Jerome J. Stark
PlSgt. John J. Quigley
PFC Salvatore A. Cracco
PFC Francis C. Potter
PFC Charles W. Roberts
Pvt. Malcolm J. Hogan
Pvt. John M. Langdon
Pvt. Paul P. Ratcliffe
Pvt. Francis L. Roberts
Pvt. John C. Rock
Missing
Missing
Missing
Missing
KIA/BNR
Missing
KIA/BNR
Missing
[Buried on battlefield]
Missing
1st Raider Battalion (E)
KIA/BNR
KIA/BNR
5th Marines (G)
Pvt. Louis J. LaVallee
KIA/BNR
11th Marines (HQ/5)
Cpl. Ralph W. Barrett, Jr.
Missing

Identifications At The Guadalcanal Cemetery

Nearly eighty bodies did arrive at the First Marine Division Cemetery in varying degrees of intactness and decomposition – an influx which severely taxed what little permanent administration existed to handle burials. Nearly a month into the campaign, the Marines lacked decisive leadership when it came to burying the dead; the responsibility fell to a rotating cast of chaplains assisted by Navy medical personnel. They had to be a strong-stomached lot. Captain Richard Tonis, a former MP attached to the First Marine Division’s Service & Supply company, recalled that “If the battle lasted for a number of days, the bodies would become bloated, often with their helmets still on. Due to swelling and the condition of the body, it smelled bad enough to knock you over. The stench of death lingering in the air would also bring a thousand green bottle flies.”[9] (A few days after the Ridge battle, Tonis was appointed Graves Registration Officer and served in that capacity until the Division departed from Guadalcanal in December.)
Captain Richard Tonis at the Division field office, sometime in 1942. Tonis arrived on Guadalcanal as a supply and service officer; he was appointed Division Burial Officer in September 1942. Official USMC photograph from the Thayer Soule Collection (COLL/2266), Archives Branch, Marine Corps History Division.
Identifying the dead was an unwelcome challenge for the Navy corpsmen at the cemetery. If they were fortunate, the dead arrived with correct ID tags around their necks; checking these was unpleasant but brief. If no tags could be found, the corpsmen gritted their teeth and searched through pockets and packs for wallets, papers, or anything that might have a man’s name. Such items, when found, were carefully separated and turned over to the chaplain in charge for safekeeping. Fortunately, this process worked well enough for about 90% of the bodies received in the aftermath of the Ridge battle. However, eight of the bodies received had no “identifying media” – dog tags, personal effects, or gear marked with their names. Nor were they recognizable on sight to anyone near the cemetery. Ultimately, these eight Marines would be the first unknowns buried in the cemetery. However, the cemetery workers had a few tricks up their sleeves to ensure that they would not remain unidentified.
The fastest and simplest expedient was to take fingerprint impressions of the deceased. Every serviceman had his fingerprints taken when he enlisted; they were a part of his permanent file attached to his Service Record Book, and in peacetime were more commonly used “for the detection of undesirables.”[10] Matching the prints of unidentified bodies to the SRs of missing individuals was a common sense tactic that worked. Although the practice was not specifically stipulated in TM 10–630 Graves Registration (published in September 1941 and, at the time of the Ridge battle, the latest manual pertaining to the subject), it was part of the Navy’s medical regulations and was standard procedure for identifying bodies, particularly those which had been submerged in water.[11] Furthermore, prior to 1942, Navy and Marine identification tags were almost always issued with an acid-etched impression of the owner’s right index finger.[12] The First Marine Division was well aware of this method by July of 1942, and referenced fingerprinting as a means of identification in “Circular 6A-42, Personnel Administration.”

Identification will normally be accomplished by the use of identification tags. Where these are missing bodies should not be buried until every effort has been made to establish their identity. A careful examination of personal effects may supply the information, or it may be possible to call on men from the same company, if it is known, to establish identity. Failing this, fingerprints will be made by medical personnel when available and the bodies buried in separate graves and accurate records made thereof.[13]

  Specific kits were made and issued for this purpose, and their proper use is described in a later edition of the Graves Registration manual:

In taking the fingerprints of a deceased person the first important matter is to cleanse the fingers either with soap and water or the cleaning fluid in the kit. The operator, standing just at the back of the shoulders, and with his left hand, lifts the arm of the deceased person as though extending it above the head. This movement automatically extends the fingers. While holding the arm in this position the finger is inked by bringing it in contact with the metal plate which has been prepared (inked with a minimum amount of ink). The fingerprint form which has previously been folded and inserted in the slots of the fingerprint shovel is then firmly gripped and the deceased person's thumbprint pressed in the hollow of the shovel. The same action for all the fingers is repeated. With the fingerprint shovel there is no necessity to roll the fingers as the placing of the finger in the hollow of the shovel gives the rolled impression. Fingerprint equipment must be kept clean, and free from dust and the screw cap kept on the tube of ink when not in use.[14]

Completing fingerprint impressions for NMS Form N, “Certificate of Death.” Image and example from Iwo Jima.

The fingerprint (early in the war, it was common to take only a single print; experience later taught that taking as many as possible narrowed the field of candidates from thousands to dozens) was rolled onto a Certificate of Death (NMS Form N) and sent back to the Bureau of Medicine and Surgery, Navy Department, Washington DC. Analysis back in the States, including experts from the FBI, received the forms along with the record books of those reported missing or non-recovered. All things considered the process was relatively quick. By March 1943, some of the Guadalcanal unknowns were matched by fingerprint comparison which led to a declaration of death and notification to families.[15] The work was re-checked after the war, and officially approved in 1946.

Fingerprint comparison was responsible for
the identification of six of Guadalcanal's first eight unknowns.

Louis James LaVallee

X-1
G/2/5th Marines

Joseph Francis Maye

X-4
A/1st Parachute Battalion

John Clinton Rock

X-2
C/1st Raider Battalion

Ralph William Barrett, Jr.

X-5
HQ Battery, 4th Battalion, 11th Marines

John Joseph Quigley

X-3
C/1st Raider Battalion

Raymon W. Herndon

X-7
A/1st Parachute Battalion

A partial listing of successful fingerprint ID's following the re-check in 1946. From Ralph W. Barrett, Jr. Individual Deceased Personnel File. (X-4, Maye, was evidently processed separately.)

In addition to the fingerprints (or in lieu of them, if they could not be taken) was the dental chart. A Navy dentist was summoned from his sick bay to pry open the mouths of the dead and poke around with mirror and pick, checking for irregularities. Captain Tonis knew one dental officer who frequently performed such work.

One of my classmates from the Platoon Leaders Class had trained to be a dentist and he was attached to the Division's sick bay. When a body came in from the front line, unrecognizable and without identification, the two chiefs [pharmacist's mates] would call upon him to make a complete examination of the teeth so that the body could be possible [sic] identified at a much later date. I'm sure it was in instances such as these that the dentist wished he had chosen another profession.[16]

Example induction dental chart for Sgt. George M. J. Berwanger, KIA on Guadalcanal. (Note that the form is dated 1943; this is a copy from Berwanger's medical file.)
Example induction dental chart for Sgt. George M. J. Berwanger, KIA on Guadalcanal. (Note that the form is dated 1943; this is a copy from Berwanger's medical file.)

Dental records were an important part of every man’s medical file. The NAVMED H-4 form included a chart to be completed at induction, and a separate area for subsequent dental work performed while in the service. Aside from the obvious health benefits of keeping accurate records, the Manual of the Medical Department, U. S. Navy, reminded its readers:

When a body has been subjected to conditions which cause decomposition of tissue, the dental record may become the only means - of arriving at a positive identification. It is therefore important that the original charted record and subsequent entries for restorations and treatments be in conformity with the existing instructions on this subject, and unquestionably accurate. The upper chart of the dental record is particularly valuable for the purpose of identification when decomposition has destroyed other means; any peculiarities or unusual conditions should be concisely recorded…. so that it may be a record of existing conditions and of value for the purpose of identification.[17]

Given the limitations of the field and the deteriorating condition of the remains, it’s likely that the dental officer could make little more than a cursory check for abnormalities: fillings, bridgework, extractions or the like. Later in the war, trained dental technicians would handle this responsibility as part of the normal procedure of Graves Registration work.

Insofar as Guadalcanal cases are concerned, dental records were not used for wartime analysis at the same rate (or as successfully) as fingerprints. However, they became truly valuable after the war ended and bodies were being exhumed for return home. The First Marine Division Cemetery at Guadalcanal was exhumed in the winter of 1947 and all remains – identified or not – prepared for shipment to the Central Identification Laboratory (CIL) in Hawaii. The eight unknowns from the Ridge battle were processed on the island by the 9105th Technical Services Unit and the 604th Quartermaster Graves Registration Company in early December. By this time, the six who were successfully fingerprinted (LaVallee, Rock, Quigley, Maye, Barrett, and Herndon) were considered identified, and no further investigation was necessary. The last two – X-6 and X-8 – were still anonymous bones when they arrived in Honolulu.

At CIL, remains were carefully segregated, searched for overlooked media, and then inspected by trained technicians led by well-known anthropologists Dr. Margaret Trotter and Dr. Charles Snow.[18] Estimates of age, race, height, and weight were made; traces of hair were noted for color and texture, and physical descriptions written up. With limitless time, a full set of equipment, knowledgeable staff – and, critically, skulls largely free of flesh – detailed dental charts could be accomplished.

This process led to the identification of X-6 as 1Sgt. Jerome J. Stark, a 27-year-old from Dunlo, Pennsylvania. Stark was last seen alive on 14 September 1942 when, after leading men from C/1st Raider Battalion into a hand-to-hand fight, he was seriously wounded and “forcibly evacuated from the front lines.”[19] He was reported as missing in action following the battle for the Ridge, and ultimately declared dead on 15 September 1943; the posthumous Silver Star Medal he earned was presented to his father. In February of 1949, “comparison of physical and dental characteristics” led to Stark’s positive identification; he was finally returned to his family for burial in his hometown.

Unknown X-8 could not be identified.

Examination of his skeleton at CIL in February 1948 revealed two major hindrances that likely prevented a speedy identification. His right arm ended at the wrist and his left arm at the elbow; aside from two fragmented metacarpals, no hand bones were present. While it can’t be said with certainty if the missing extremities we a perimortem mutilation or the result of careless handling by the untrained laborers in the 9105th TSU, there is a distinct possibility that X-8 had no fingers to fingerprint when he was buried in 1942.

The second notable feature is evident trauma to the face – particularly to the mouth and teeth. X-8 was missing two sections of his maxilla and one of his mandible; a total of eleven teeth were lost as a result. This damage and the passage of years loosened seven more teeth which were noted as posthumously missing. The dental technicians had little left to work with; they noted some fillings in the man’s molars, but these were not distinctive enough to prove an identification.

Dr. Charles Snow examined the remains and gave the following description:

Picture a man in his middle twenties with medium stature and muscularity.
The skull is small, medium in size, forms a long, narrow oval outline.
The backhead is quite prominent and rather narrow.
There is a large palpable, hooked-like external occipital protuberance.
The forehead has the usual slope and the brow ridges are small.
The face is rather long and narrow with the usual fullness through the cheekbone region.
The line of the jaw is quite long.

Dr. Snow further estimated that X-8 was “probably white,” between 24 and 26 years old, weighed approximately 145 pounds, and stood five feet nine inches tall. The report also noted the remnants of “One (1) pair Marine Corp [sic] rough leather shoes size 8EE.”[20] The case could not be resolved with the available information and the technology of the time, and X-8 was buried in the National Memorial Cemetery of the Pacific on 11 March 1949. Visitors can pay their respects at Grave 428, Section N.

Fingerprinting and tooth charting would be used to great success in subsequent cases on Guadalcanal, elsewhere in the Pacific, and in the European Theater of Operations. Of the eighteen men unaccounted for after the battle of the Ridge, seven were identified by these methods. An eighth, Pvt. Francis Roberts, was retrieved from an isolated grave in February 1943; a ninth, Pvt. Frank Whittlesey, was found on the Ridge in 1989 and returned home to Massachusetts in 1992. Ten remain unaccounted for; most, like Whittlesey, never made it to the cemetery and are probably still on Guadalcanal. However, the likely remains of one Marine Raider – Coffey, Cracco, Frink, Hogan, Langdon, Potter, Ratcliffe, Ritter, or Charles Roberts – waits in Honolulu for another chance at identification.

If you are related to – or have additional information about –
any of these missing Raiders, please contact us.

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Footnotes

[1] This disturbing anecdote comes from 1Sgt. Abraham Felber of the 11th Marines in a diary entry dated 14 September 1942. “Several of the men from the Raider Battalion had fallen back to the Special Weapons position. A Special Weapons officer, Marine Gunner Paul R. Michael, told one of these men to get up on the firing line. The man refused. The Gunner insisted, and the man shot and killed him. As this happened, Sgt. [Joseph] Militano pulled his pistol and shot the man from the Raider Battalion dead.” Abraham Felber, Franklin S. Felber, and William H. Bartsch, The Old Breed Of Marine: A World War II Diary (Jefferson, NC: McFarland & Company, 2003), 101.
[2] Almost all of the non-recovered fatal ground casualties on Guadalcanal in this period were killed on patrol actions or other operations some distance from the Lunga perimeter. Men who fell in defensive positions, or victims of bombing or accidents, were without exception brought to the cemetery and identified.
[3] Felber, 69.
[4] See Lester W. Clark, An Unlikely Arena (New York: Vantage Press, 1989) and Arthur Pendleton quoted in Adam Makos & Marcus Brotherton, Voices Of The Pacific: Untold Stories from the Marine Heroes of World War II (New York: Berkley Caliber, 2013).
[5] Marlin Groft and Larry Alexander, Bloody Ridge and Beyond: A World War II Marine’s Memoir of Edson’s Raiders in the Pacific (New York: Berkeley Caliber, 2014), ebook, 103.
[6] Joseph H. Alexander, Edson’s Raiders: The 1st Marine Raider Battalion in World War II (Annapolis: Naval Institute Press, 2010), 160.
[7] Ibid., 159.
[8] Groft, 103.
[9] Richard Tonis, I Joined The Cardinal’s Army: Memories of a Massachusetts State Trooper and Pacific Combat Marine, (Brockton, MA: self-published, date unknown), 121.
[10] Marine Corps Manual (Washington: United States Government Printing Office, 1942), 63.
[11] Manual of the Medical Department of the United States Navy (Washington: United States Government Printing Office, 1942), 369. “Cases have occurred in which, by reason of similarity of names and resultant transfer with wrong service records, the identity of a deceased person has been erroneously established. Fingerprints shall invariably be taken… and compared with the prints found in the service record.”
[12] Alec S. Tulkoff, Grunt Gear: USMC Combat Infantry Equipment of World War II (San Jose: R. James Bender Publishing, 2003) 105-106. Due to the massive influx of recruits, fingerprint ID tags were largely eliminated as a time-saving measure.
[13] 1st Marine Division, “Division Circular 6a-42: Personnel Administration,” 10 July 1942 (Marine Corps Archives, Quantico, VA).
[14] Technical Manual No. 10-63: Graves Registration (Washington: USGPO, 1945), 26.
[15] Casualty cards for LaVallee, Rock, Quigley, Maye, Barrett, and Herndon reveal their status updates between February and April 1943.
[16] Tonis, 121. The Dental Corps officer is not named but muster rolls suggest Lieutenant Myron G. Turner.
[17] Manual of the Medical Department, 254. “Peculiarities” included: “Gingival erosion, any abnormality of occlusion, occlusal abrasion, pigmented enamel, fractures of enamel or teeth, abnormal spaces between teeth, rotation of teeth that can be definitely discerned, however slight, irregularity of alignment of teeth, giving teeth involved with abnormal inclination or position.” The manual stressed the importance of noting minutiae, especially in cases where a man possessed perfect teeth.
[18] One set of remains that arrived at CIL as “Albany Doucette,” US Army, was actually found to be John W. G. Onnen, USMC. One of Onnen’s ID tags was found among the bones, having been overlooked at his first burial in November 1942, his reburial in the Guadalcanal cemetery in February 1943, and at his exhumation in 1947. The checks were clearly in place for a reason.
[19] “Sgt. J. J. Stark Reported Dead,” The Altoona Tribune (22 September 1944).
[20] “Unknown Solomon Islands X-8 Guadalcanal,” Washington National Records Center, Suitland, MD.

2 thoughts on “Fingerprints, Teeth, and Guadalcanal’s Oldest Unknowns.​”

  1. My uncle, Edward Ciazinski, was lost in Guadalcanal in October of 1942. He was 1st Marine, PFC, 2nd battalion, 5th Marines. Are searches still in progress and is DNA needed to help if any remains are found? He was my mother’s brother and died at the age of 20.
    Thank you,
    Jack Runchey

  2. My uncle PFCHugh Gilbert Strickland 2nd battalion 7 th marines was lost October 9,1942 in Guadalcanal. We have given DNA .searches are still in progress.

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