Jack Rudolph Stambaugh

Jack entered the world in Wichita Falls, Texas, on 27 June 1923. His birth name is not known; at a young age, Jack was adopted by James Madison and Stella (Hankins) Stambaugh and went to live in nearby Archer County. He grew up with three half-sisters – Opal Clyde, Nettie Jim, and Mary Lou – and attended school in Bowie after the family relocated in the early 1930s.

In 1940, Jack was repeating his junior year at Bowie High School and working nights as a janitor. He likely thought about life beyond Montague County, but had little reason to leave family and friends behind.

Pearl Harbor changed his mind.

Two days after the attack on Pearl Harbor, Jack appeared at the temporary recruiting station in Wichita Falls and informed Sergeant W. C. Hanke that he wanted to become a Marine. At nearly six feet tall and 185 pounds, young Stambaugh was an ideal physical specimen, and soon he was en route to Marine Corps Recruit Depot San Diego. Boot training passed easily enough, and Private Stambaugh was assigned to Company D, First Battalion, 9th Marines.

Stambaugh’s youthful enthusiasm evidently made him headstrong. He quickly racked up a number of disciplinary charges, mostly for being absent over – or without – leave. On 10 July 1942, while being held in the brig for another offense, Stambaugh staged a breakout and went on the lam for more than a month. He was declared a deserter, and a $50 bounty was offered for his arrest. Finally, he was collared by the shore patrol in San Diego and hauled back to Camp Elliott on 24 August. Private Stambaugh was court-martialed, convicted, and thrown in the camp jail.

In peacetime, desertion almost always meant years of Naval prison followed by a bad-conduct discharge. Wartime conditions meant transgressors had a chance to expunge their records – parole, and service in a combat unit. This was probably the deal offered to Jack Stambaugh in the spring of 1943. He was released from confinement in April and immediately sent to the 14th Replacement Battalion, bound for overseas duty. From California, he sailed to New Caledonia and then to New Zealand, where he joined the ranks of Company B, First Battalion, 6th Marines.

The 6th was a veteran unit; its older members told stories of service in Iceland, and many more saw combat on Guadalcanal in the Solomon Islands. Replacements like Jack Stambaugh had to train hard to catch up and integrate themselves with established fire teams, squads, and platoons. As a green Marine, Stambaugh faced his share of hazing. “They told Stambaugh, ‘come over here, kid. We want you to meet the outfit’s real killer,” recalled PFC Harold Carstens. “Killer” Carstens became a close friend and protector for the young Texan. Stambaugh also looked up a former Bowie High classmate, Leon Curtis Randell, who was serving with Company M, 6th Marines.

By October, Private Stambaugh was ready for action. “I don’t know how I’ll feel when I get into battle,” he confided to Randell as they set sail for Tarawa, “but I don’t think I’ll be afraid. I might just be blowing off now, but I think I’ll be a fighting fool.”

Jack Stambaugh’s enthusiasm might have waned when he caught his first glimpse of Betio. “There were bodies and legs and arms in the water everywhere,” recalled Harold Carstens. “Marines were dropping all around…. We lost a lot of good boys… we lost a lot of good men.” The 6th Marines came ashore on D+1 – 21 November 1943 – and the next morning began rolling down the Japanese left flank. By nightfall, 1/6 had made significant progress and pushed several hundred Japanese troops towards Betio’s “bird’s tail” peninsula. However, as they dug in for the night, the counterattacks began. The epicenter of the banzai was Company B, where Stambaugh and Carstens manned foxholes on the front line.

A nighttime charge was a terrifying thing. Carstens noted that some Marines froze in fear, “and some of them got it.” Jack Stambaugh was not one to freeze, even when his rifle jammed. When a nearby Marine fell wounded, Stambaugh raced to the rescue with his bayonet fixed, and in a wild melee killed four Japanese soldiers.

Then, according to Carstens, a Japanese officer brandishing a sword jumped up and charged at his position. Stambaugh saw the yelling officer bearing down on Carstens and headed to intercept. “He didn’t need to get out of that foxhole,” said Carstens. “I saw that officer coming, and I was ready for him.” Nevertheless, Stambaugh hurled himself on the officer. He was quick with a blade, but the Japanese fighter was quicker. The sword found its mark. “He nearly cut [Jack] in half,” Carstens concluded. The PFC from Kankakee, Illinois put five rounds into the officer, then turned to face the next attack.

According to Marine Corps casualty records, Jack Stambaugh suffered gunshot wounds in his chest and groin, and a saber wound in the throat. He was buried the following morning in a mass grave – Number 14 in “Gilbert Island Cemetery, Tarawa” – along with some thirty other Marines. His parents received news of his death just before Christmas; in January, they read an account of their son’s death as told by Technical Sergeant Samuel Shafer. Stambaugh’s heroic deed was “one of the finest and bravest acts ever performed by a Marine,” wrote 1Lt. Norman K. Thomas. “He was a good, clean soldier and a good man.” Lt. Thomas was likely responsible for Jack’s subsequent Silver Star Medal, which was presented to the Stambaughs in a ceremony back in Texas. In 1947, the award was upgraded to the Navy Cross.

More than medals, Stella Stambaugh treasured a picture of her son’s grave marker on Betio, which she said “closed the record” of his life. She little suspected that the marker – which stood in Cemetery 33, Plot 1, Row 1, Grave 2 – was only a memorial. Jack’s real grave was obliterated by construction on Betio; his remains were declared non-recoverable in 1949.

The “Row D” burial site went undiscovered until the spring of 2019, when an archaeological expedition led by non-profit organization History Flight excavated the site and recovered human remains.

Jack Stambaugh was identified from the History Flight recovery and officially accounted for on 9 April 2020.

CENOTAPHS
Honolulu Memorial, Tablets of the Missing
Elmwood Cemetery, Bowie, Texas

FINAL BURIAL
Arlington National Cemetery