Manley Forrest Winkley
PFC Manley F. Winkley served with Baker Company, First Battalion, 2nd Marines.
He was killed in action at the battle of Tarawa on 20 November 1943.
Branch
Marine Corps Reserve
Service Number 504632
Current Status
Accounted For
as of 1 June 2013
Recovery Organization
Joint POW/MIA Accounting Command (JPAC)
and
History Flight 2011 Expedition
Read DPAA Press Release
History
Manley Winkley was born in Indianapolis, Indiana, on 17 September 1923 – the seventh and last child born to evangelist preacher Martin and Nadia Hunter Winkley. His nearest sibling, Duane, was five years his senior; the eldest, Maurice and Lyman Senior, were in their twenties. Soon, little Manley was an uncle to nieces and nephews nearly his age.
Manley found his closest friend and confidant in Lyman Winkley Junior. Although technically the boys were uncle and nephew, they were only three years apart and grew up as close as brothers. The two Winkleys were joined at the hip, with Manley as the leader and Lyman as the willing right-hand man.
Living close to the extended family came in useful in other ways, too. While preaching a revival in 1935, Martin Winkley was struck by a fatal heart attack and died unexpectedly. It fell to the Winkley children and cousins to help Nadia through her loss and make sure Manley kept up his studies at George Washington High School.
When he wasn’t palling around with Lyman, Manley enjoyed horseback riding at the “Square D Ranch” in Brownsburg and was a member of the Salem Park Church. He played football for Washington High and was a cadet officer in the school’s ROTC detachment. Manley took his military training seriously, developing into a talented marksman and winning medals on the drill field.
Manley left high school after three years and went to work for the Continental Baking Company on Market Street. By the summer of 1942, when the time came to register for Selective Service, he was well versed in the recent exploits of the Marine Corps – defending Wake Island to the last man, the bitter surrender of Corregidor, the thrilling newsreels describing the destruction of the Japanese fleet at Midway. Then came Guadalcanal, a hard-fought struggle defined by grit and determination, with the outcome uncertain. The Marines were the spearhead at the short end of the stick in 1942, and it took a certain kind of man to volunteer for certain hardship and possible death.
Manley decided it was his turn to help out, and on 12 December 1942, he enlisted in the Marine Corps. He bade his mother and siblings goodbye; leaving his nephew behind was harder still, but Lyman was not yet old enough to serve. Manley left for South Carolina, while Lyman returned to his high school studies.
Manley was put through the wringer at Parris Island, and emerged as a Marine private handy with a rifle; the first decoration he pinned to his forest green uniform was the Maltese cross of a sharpshooter. The Corps wanted him to serve with the artillery and sent him to Camp Pendleton, California; Manley went to the Headquarters and Service Battery of the camp’s “cannon cocker” training battalion, where he earned the stripe of a Private First Class on 1 April 1943.
Artillery training didn’t take with Manley, and on 7 July 1943, he was transferred to the 23rd Replacement Battalion. Soon he was crossing the Pacific on the SS President Polk, bound for a place he’d only vaguely noticed on world maps – New Zealand, the temporary home of the Second Marine Division.
For the next several weeks, the 19-year-old Marine lived a fascinating double life. During the week, he was PFC Winkley 504632, rifleman of Company B, First Battalion, 2nd Marines, and subject to the orders of every man from the rank of corporal to colonel. On his few liberty days, he was just teenaged Manley, exploring a foreign land, making new friends, and doubtless enjoying every minute. It was no secret that the 2nd Marines were bound for combat in the near future; as he celebrated his twentieth birthday on 17 September 1943, Manley might have wondered what the next two decades would bring.
Manley and Baker Company boarded the USS Harry Lee on 17 October 1943. They spent a week participating in training maneuvers which ranged from the irritation of being soaked in an assault craft to the muted rumors of fellow Marines falling from nets or getting caught in swamped landing craft; such incidents were almost always fatal. In early November, the blacked-out transports set sail for an unknown destination.
Within days, Manley Winkley was told where he was bound – the island of Betio, in the Tarawa atoll. The names meant nothing to him; rare was the Marine who had heard of the Gilbert Islands before the war. Operations officers told the men that the tiny atoll would be a tough nut to crack, but they could count on naval bombardment to eliminate most of the enemy. Some went so far as to promise that Betio would be wiped clean off the map; the Marines were only needed to walk ashore and plant the flag. Some of the men of Manley’s battalion were disappointed at being placed in regimental reserve, while others secretly thanked a higher power for the assignment.
Manley heard the echoing blast and rumble of naval gunfire through the morning of 20 November 1943. From his place on the deck of the Harry Lee, Betio appeared as a dark, smoke-covered smudge on the horizon. Perhaps the officers had been right, and the island would be a pushover. With some jealousy, Baker Company watched their comrades in the regiment’s Second and Third battalions head for the beach. Soon, Manley was climbing down a cargo net and stepping into a flat-bottomed landing craft; he spent the next several hours bobbing up and down in the surf, stealing glances over the bulwarks at the smoldering island – the sounds of gunfire couldn’t be ignored. Apparently, the landing was not as easy as believed.
Suddenly, a tracked landing vehicle pulled up alongside. Screaming officers chased Manley over the side of his boat and into the LVT, which clanked, shuddered, and began heading towards the beach. The Marines inside tipped backward, jolted, fell forwards as the vehicle’s treads ground over the coral reef surrounding Betio – and as they crossed the last few hundred yards at a snail’s pace, feeling the impact of Japanese artillery, hearing machine-gun bullets rattle off the side of their LVT, finally realized just what awaited them on the beach. The last word many would hear was the order to evacuate the vehicle and find cover.
Nadia Winkley had the family over to trim the Christmas tree when the telegram announcing Manley’s death arrived.
Letters followed. Captain M. R. Williams sent his condolences and assured Nadia that her son showed “exceptionally good character and military bearing.” PFC Marvin Burton penned a description of Manley’s last moments:
Manley landed on the beach at Tarawa early on the day of the invasion. Hundreds of our buddies lay dead on the beach. A menacing Jap machine-gun nest was up the beach a way. Manley volunteered to attempt to silence the gun as it had been taking such a heavy toll of marines. Two other boys volunteered to go with them. I am sorry I never learned their names. Manley was hit four times in the chest with machine-gun fire and died instantly. No one will ever know how I felt seeing my pal lying there. He was buried at 4:30 in the evening of Nov. 20, the same day he was killed.
Lyman knew how PFC Burton felt: his hero was gone. In December 1944, Lyman enlisted in the Marine Corps with the express purpose of exacting vengeance for Manley; he had to lie about his age to do join up. Lyman would go on to serve in World War II and Korea, fighting at the “Frozen Chosin” and suffering two wounds in action. When he died in 1998, his remains were cremated and kept by the family.
The Winkleys received no such closure for Manley. In 1949, he was declared permanently non-recoverable.
Many years later, in June 2011, archaeologists with non-governmental organization History Flight conducted an exploratory dig on the island of Betio. In the area of an old burial ground known as “Cemetery 25,” they uncovered three distinct sets of human remains which appeared to be American. History Flight duly notified the Joint POW-MIA Accounting Command (JPAC) of their find, and in 2012 a government team arrived and took charge of the remains.
Using modern investigative methods, all three Marines were identified. Manley was first: conclusive evidence was received in April 2013, and the official change to “accounted for” followed on 1 June 2013. Three years later, the remains of PFC Nicholas J. Cancilla and PFC James S. Smith were also returned to their families. Cancilla, a fellow member of Baker Company, may have been one of the Marines who joined Manley in the attack on the pillbox.
Read more about the recovery of Winkley, Cancilla, and Smith in Wil S. Hylton's "The Search for the Lost Marines of Tarawa."
Finally, on 24 August 2013, Manley Winkley’s remains were returned to Indiana for final burial in Indiana Veterans Memorial Cemetery. He was not laid to rest alone – Lyman Winkley was buried beside him. The two Marines, best friends in life, are now reunited in death.
Decorations
Purple Heart
For wounds resulting in his death, 20 November 1943.
Next Of Kin Address
Address of mother, Mrs. Nadia Winkley.
Location Of Loss
PFC Winkley’s remains were recovered from the vicinity of Red Beach 2.