John Carmen Buckhalt
Private John C. “Buck” Buckhalt served with Able Company, First Battalion, 1st Marines.
He was killed in action near Papanggu Village, Guadalcanal, on 19 August 1942.
Branch
Marine Corps Reserve
Service Number 347312
Current Status
Remains Not Recovered
Pursuit Category
The DPAA has not publicized this information.
History
John Buckhalt – known as “Carmen” – was born in Dowling Park, Florida, on 22 March 1923. His family – parents John and Pearl Buckhalt, and siblings Cecil, Doris, and Eunice – moved several times in Carmen’s youth before settling in St. Augustine. Their experience was marked by the loss of several children in infancy; Carmen grew up in the shadow of three older siblings who died before he was born.
Carmen attended Ketterlinus High School in St. Augustine, but left before graduation. By 1940, he was living in Miami with Cecil and Dorothy Buckhalt – his older brother and sister-in-law. Cecil got Carmen a job at City Ice & Fuel, and Carmen worked hauling ice and making deliveries around the city.[1]
In early 1942, Carmen – still eighteen years old – quit his job and joined the hundreds of young men wanting to join the service.[2] Enthusiasm for the war was such that Marine Staff Sergeant Stanley Gordon of the Miami recruiting office was able to assemble an entire recruit platoon in just two weeks. Dubbed the “McCarthy Platoon” in honor of recently deceased police commissioner (and Marine veteran) William J. McCarthy, the recruits were informed that they could serve together for the duration. “A lot of us were disappointed when we were accepted [as] we were not allowed to leave the building and return to our homes,” remembered George Lundgren. “They kept us together until we left for boot camp at Parris Island. Maybe it was a good thing.” With the eyes of the state on them, recruiters did not want to take a chance on any cold feet.
Thus, on 15 January 1942, sixty-four young men – including Carmen Buckhalt – stood on the turf of the Orange Bowl, raised their hands, and were sworn in to the Marine Corps as “the McCarthy Platoon.” A major delivered an impressive speech. “I don’t think most of us realized what we were getting into until that night,” continued Lundgren. “The things he said really sank in and we began to realize what the Marine Corps really was – and the task that had been cut out for us.” A “wild and woolly take-off” was the recruits’ last impression of home; they were hustled on a bus to Savannah, then on to Parris Island.
The special status and attention evaporated in boot camp. While the McCarthy Platoon was permitted to train together, drill instructors worked the men to the bone. “It took a lot of the conceit out of us,” admitted Lundgren, “and made us knuckle down to show the rest of them that we were deserving of the favorable things said about us.”[3] Fortunately, the “Miami Platoon” (as everyone else called them) was up to the challenge, and at the end of boot camp they led the graduation parade. About fifty of them were transferred en masse to the 1st Marine Division at New River, North Carolina.
Private Buckhalt wound up in the First Platoon of Company A, First Battalion, 1st Marines, along with fellow Miamian George Lundgren. They quickly befriended a pair of Yankees, Hubert “Stub” Morse and Jack H. Gardner, during infantry training, and swapped jibes and stories on a long train ride to California. Carmen – now called “Buck” or “The Ice Man” – proved to be “a right guy, and plenty popular” according to platoon mate Jack de Wees.[4] “Buckhalt was good at tap dancing and did a good imitation of Bill Robinson,” remembered Lundgren, “and the rest of us danced and cracked jokes.”[5] They enjoyed the novel experience of riding in Pullman coaches across the country.
After three weeks at sea, the convoy arrived in New Zealand. The Marines had only eleven days in port, most of which time was spent on working parties as the Wellington dock workers were on strike. They re-boarded the Barnett on 22 July, and this time were told their destination: Guadalcanal, in the Solomon Islands. Officers briefed the men: this was the real deal, the battle they had trained for, and that casualties in the first waves were expected to reach eighty percent.
On the morning of 7 August, Buck, Billy Thompson, and George Lundgren gathered at the rail to watch the Navy shelling Guadalcanal. Lundgren was so transfixed at the sight that he almost missed his landing craft.
Much to everyone’s surprise, the landing was completely unopposed. Within a few minutes, Lundgren was up a palm tree tossing coconuts to Buck and Billy. The Miami men gleefully showed their Northern buddies how to shuck and spike a coconut for milk.
The 1st Marines struggled through the jungle, cutting through vines and underbrush and ducking at the occasional sniper shot from up ahead. The days were exhausting and the nights nerve-wracking – full of unfamiliar sounds and the ever-present fear of a sudden Japanese attack. They reached Henderson Field and, finding it already conquered, moved in to defensive positions. It seemed that the few Japanese troops had withdrawn towards the Matanikau River in the west; in the eastern sector, there seemed to be nothing but jungle. Marines griped about the lack of food, the dull working parties, the heat, and the bugs. “We had started going out on patrols,” commented George Lundgren, but “we found them tame affairs.” This would soon change dramatically.
Late in the day on 18 August 1942, Able Company skipper Captain Charles Brush put out the word for volunteers to make a combat patrol the next morning. He explained that Japanese troops were setting up a communications relay near Tetere – possibly in preparation for an offensive. Second Lieutenant John Jachym, leader of the First Platoon, simplified the issue by “volunteering” his entire unit. A few squads of heavy machine guns and mortars joined up; four Melanesian scouts led the way.[9] “Stub” Morse, who carried a BAR in Jachym’s platoon, recalled their departure early on 19 August.
Morse was right. “Patrols were always with our weapons at the ready for many miles,” recalled Corporal Ernie Dobbins.[11] The Marines slogged through the loose sand along the shoreline; grit got into their boondockers and rubbed their feet raw. Light perspiration turned to drenching sweat, and men cursed and swatted at gnats that buzzed around their eyes. Moving inland to the government track made walking easier, but the heat and insects got worse. “We trudged along cursing the heat, the insects, and the guy who dreamed up the whole damn deal,” said Morse. “By noon we were foot-weary, bone tired, and hungry.”[12] The village of Papanggu was just ahead; an orange grove offered a perfect place to rest and eat. Morse declared he would march on his hands to get some fresh fruit.
Unbeknownst to the Marines, a Japanese patrol was heading down the path in the opposite direction, “boldly and carelessly” in the words of a Marine report.[13] This group, part of a detachment under Colonel Kiyoko Ichicki, had recently arrived on Guadalcanal; they carried radios and communication line to establish an outpost at Alligator Creek. Both parties were ignorant of each other’s presence – but the scouts, born and raised on Guadalcanal, could tell when a stranger was close. “One of the natives in a half-whisper warned us, ‘Me smell Japs!'” continued Dobbins. “We took this warning seriously. He should know, he’s been living with these people for quite a long time, he should know what they smelled like. It never entered into my nostrils at the time. We were sure glad he was there.”[14]
A few seconds later, American and Japanese scouts spotted each other. Jachym quickly pulled his platoon off the trail and sent his runner, Private George H. Grazier, to inform the company commander. Brush wasted no time in ordering a flanking maneuver to trap the Japanese in a pocket along the coast, and his Marines began to move into position. “We spread out behind trees and logs on the edge of the jungle,” said Lundgren. “Tensely we waited, watching the fringe of jungle growth at the bend of the beach…. Buck was over on my right behind a log.”
When the first Japanese appeared, Lundgren noted “a rustle of excitement” among the Marines. “They didn’t know we were within miles of them, as we were carefully hidden from their view…. Our bullets whipped into them, and the Japs ran in all directions, taking cover where they could.” Overcoming their initial confusion, Ichicki’s men brought up a machine gun and gave the Marines “a little trouble.”[15]
“Now we were on a personal basis,” remembered Morse. “Within just a few yards there were people who would kill me if they could! I swallowed great gulps of acrid fear and charged through the undergrowth with adrenaline pumping and stinging every fiber of my body.”[16] At Jachym’s shouted order, Corporal Dobbins’ squad – including Buckhalt, Morse, and Lundgren – moved up to attack the machine gun with hand grenades. As Stub Morse hurried through the undergrowth, a broken bootlace sent him sprawling to the ground. He looked up to see Buckhalt pass in front of him and head for the cover of the trees.
A rifle shot, deafeningly close, startled Morse badly. Buckhalt’s arm gushed blood from a nasty looking wound. “The bastards are in the trees!” yelled Buck. Morse knew this wasn’t true and tried to pull his buddy to the ground, but Buckhalt broke free. “I was looking right at him when the second shot hit him in the temple,” remembered Morse. “He slumped back against the tree, uttered a little moan, and died.”[17]
Lundgren saw “the Ice Man” get hit as well. “[Buck] was holding his blood-soaked arm and crawling away from the protection of the log,” he said. ” I knew that he wanted me to bandage his arm and I whipped out my first-aid kit. Buck crawled a few feet more and then his whole body shuddered like it had been struck with a baseball bat. He slumped forward on his face. I saw that he had been hit in the head with an explosive bullet and that he was dead.”[18]
Buckhalt’s death had a profound effect on the squad. “I was sad and fiercely angry at the same time,” said Dobbins. “I could have gone off my rocker, or [done] something I would be sorry for all my life. I was just screaming within my guts for help far beyond my own strength.”[19] For Morse, the effect was as visceral as could be.
After “what seemed an eternity” to PFC Morse but was really less than an hour, Captain Brush’s men wiped out most of the Japanese patrol. A few survivors escaped and reported the disaster to Colonel Ichicki.
With a cache of important intelligence documents – and three wounded men to treat – Captain Brush prepared to head back to the Marine perimeter. First, however, he had to addend to his dead Marines. Private Grazier, Private John C. Buckhalt and PFC Jack H. Gardner were buried in shallow graves; Brush had his men leave the boondocker-clad feet exposed “to aid in the anticipated recovery effort.”[21] Their friends bade a somber, tearful farewell.
“Someone said we made arrangements in a native village nearby to have our dead temporarily buried,” said Stub Morse, a close friend of both Buckhalt and Gardner. “I really don’t remember that.”[22]
At the time of the patrol, Captain Brush’s men lacked a reliable map of Guadalcanal and were unable to accurately plot the location of the graves. They expected to return within a few days – but subsequent events, including the infamous attack and slaughter of the Ichicki Detachment a few days later, rendered such an expedition out of the question. The three Marines were simply reported as buried “in the Hills” with no further explanation.
In 1947 and again in 1949, search and recovery teams from the 604th Quartermaster Graves Registration Company attempted to locate the bodies of Grazier, Gardner, and Buckhalt. They had an additional clue from the Buckhalt family – a photo of a grave marker and a set of cryptic instructions.
At the first bend in river approximately 200 to 250 yards inland, grave was about 10 yards from river bank on right side going upstream. Grave was marked by white cross made out of coral and placed flat across center of it. There was also an identification tag tied to a bayonet.
The source for the family’s information is not known – and, as the GRS men tersely pointed out, the name of the river was not given.[24]After making a few general searches along several rivers, they gave up and declared the remains non-recoverable.
However, they were not the first troops to attempt the recovery of remains in the area. Immediately after the firefight in 1942, Ichicki’s men went in search of their own dead friends. As they prepared the men for burial, they noted:
…the bodies of three men that were much larger than the others and had been wrapped in ponchos. When they examined the remains more closely in the light, they realized that these were the corpses of American Marines, not Japanese. They concluded that the Marine commander had left them behind in making a “hasty return” to the Marines’ defensive position.[25]
The ultimate disposition of Grazier, Gardner, and Buckhalt’s remains is not currently known. It is believed that they still lie in isolated graves along the north coast of Guadalcanal, in the vicinity of Koli Point.
John Buckhalt is memorialized at the Manila American Cemetery and Memorial, and Saint Augustine National Cemetery.
[1] City Ice & Fuel Company had a substantial list of subsidiary breweries in the post-prohibition era.
[2] Carmen Buckhalt’s year of birth varies by source. Military documents state 1922; an application for a grave marker gives 1923; numerous family trees claim 1924. The author has chosen 1923 as the most likely, as the family had the opportunity to correct the information before approving the marker. Buckhalt may have added a year to his age when he joined the service as he was still considered a minor.
[3] George Lundgren and Arthur Peavy, “Flagler Street on Guadalcanal,” serialized story in the Miami Herald (June 13-26 1943), part 2.
[4] The Evening Independent (St. Petersburg, FL) 26 July 1944. “We called him ‘the ice man’ because he used to be one,” explained de Wees.
[5] Lundgren & Peavy, “Flagler Street,” Part 3.
[6] Lundgren & Peavy, “Flagler Street,” Part 4.
[7] Ibid.
[8] Lundgren & Peavy, “Flagler Street,” Part 3.
[9] Corporal Ernie Dobbins (A/1/1) estimated “approximately 45 to 48 Marines, [plus] 4 natives including Corporal Daniel Pule.” Historian William Bartsch claims 65 (Jachym’s entire platoon, plus 11 mortarmen and 12 machine gunners from D/1/1. (Barstch, Victory Fever on Guadalcanal, 95).
[10] Hugh Morse & George Head, A-1-1 Pearl Harbor to Peleliu (A-1-1 Book Committee, 1993), 32.
[11] Ibid., 103.
[12] Ibid., 104.
[13] 1st Marine Division, Headquarters, “Division Commander’s Final Report on Guadalcanal Operation, Phase III: Organization of the Lunga Point Defenses, 10 August – 21 August,” 13 July 1943, (RG 127, NARA), 10.
[14] Morse & Head, 103.
[15] Lundgren & Peavy, “Flagler Street,” 10.
[16] Morse & Head, 33.
[17] Ibid.
[18] Lundgren & Peavy, “Flagler Street,” 10.
[19] Morse & Head, 103.
[20] Ibid., 33
[21] William H. Bartsch, Victory Fever on Guadalcanal: Japan’s First Land Defeat of World War II (College Station: Texas A&M University Press, 2014) 107.
[22] Morse & Head, 33.
[23] Ibid., 34.
[24] The river is likely the Ngalimbiu (or Malimbiu in 1940s records) based on the direction and destination of the patrol.
[25] Bartsch, 114.
Decorations
Purple Heart
For wounds resulting in his death, 19 August 1942.
Next Of Kin Address
Address of parents, John & Pearl Buckhalt.
Location Of Loss
Private Buckhalt was killed in the vicinity of Koli Point, Guadalcanal.
Private John Carmen Buckhalt was my Uncle & I was named after him when I was born 2 Mos. before his death. Although my parents wrote him about this, no mail could be delivered to the Marines at that point due to the Japanese efforts to take back Guadalcanal; these Marines had to be left without sufficient food, equipment & manpower due to Japanese firing on our ships (after Pearl Harbor, the USA could not afford to loose a ship). Uncle Carmen, “Buck” to his close friends, but apparently “Ice Man” to some, was within view of one of his best friends, George Lundgren, who also enlisted in Miami, FL, was close to Carmen when he died, and gave his accounts of the Guadalcanal fighting to the Miami Herald. I have the original clippings in a scrapbook. Carmen was behind a log, firing proficiently at the Japs when he was hit in the arm (another writer who doesn’t appear to have been near, states it was his leg), and that he was holding his arm and began to crawl over toward George. George turned away to get his first aid kit and when he looked back, he saw Carmen as he was shot in the head, dying instantly. He also reported that they carried Carmen’s body back to Henderson Field and buried him there. I will post the newspaper clippings on Private John Carmen Buckhalt’s rememberance page in a few months. If someone has additional information, I and my family would appreciate your post on his page.