Can-Do at Guadalcanal - The Seabee story of Guadalcanal begins on the afternoon of August 20, 1942, when 45 year old Commander Joseph P. Blundon (CEC, USNR) arrived in a PBY off Lunga Point and promptly reported to General A.A. Vandergrift. I guess I was the first Seabee to go under fire, Commander Blundon recalled. The Marines had been on Guadalcanal thirteen days, and they had a tiny beachhead around Henderson Field. While I was reporting to General Vandergrift, the Jap bombers came over and I hit my first foxhole. A few days later my Sixth Seabee Battalion arrived, and we assumed full responsibility for the completion and maintenance of Henderson Field. The Japs had cleared an area 300 by 5600 feet, but it was by no means finished. The Japs were shelling the field with Howitzers, as well as bombing it night and day, and it was our job to keep the holes filled up while we finished the grading, laid Marston mat, built hardstands and revetments, and helped solve the fuel and ammunition problems. We had very little equipment, General Vandergrift assigned us a section of the beach to defend against the Jap landings, and we figured we could defend the beach and still do the job at Henderson Field. We realized at the outset that the battle was going to turn on how fast we filled up holes and how fast we could develop that field. When the Jap bombers approached, our fighters took off, the bombers blasted the airstrips, and then if we couldn't fill up those holes before our planes ran out of fuel, the planes would have to attempt to land anyway, and they would crash. I saw seven of our fighters crack up in one bitter afternoon. From "our" point of view the battle of Guadalcanal was a race between the Jap artillery and the air force and the Sixth Seabee Battalion. We played our cards fast. We pitched our camp at the edge of the field to save time. We dug our foxholes right up alongside the landing area. We found that a 500 pound bomb would tear up 1600 square feet of Marstom Mat, so we placed packages of this quantity of mat along the strip, like extra rails along a railroad. We figured out how much sand and gravel was required to fill the average bomb or shell crater, and we loaded these measured amounts on trucks and placed the trucks under cover at strategic points. We had compressors and pneumatic hammers to pack the fill into the craters. We organized human assembly lines for passing up the pierced plank and laying it. Then when the Jap bombers approached, every Seabee including even our cooks, manned his repair station. Our crater crews were lying in the foxholes right at the edge of the strip. The moment the bombers had passed over, these men boiled out of the holes and raced for the craters. Every man had to keep his eye peeled for Jap strafing planes, and when the Jap dived in, our men dived for the close at hand foxholes. We found that 100 Seabees could repair the damage of a 500-pound bomb hit on an airstrip on forty minutes. In twenty four hours on October 13 and 14, fifty-three bomb and shells hit the Henderson airstrip. During one hour on the 14th we filled thirteen bomb craters while our planes circled overhead waiting to land. In the period from September 1, to November 18, we had 140 Jap raids in which the strip was hit at least once. Our worst moments were when the Jap bomb or shell failed to explode when it hit. It still tore up our mat, and it had to come out. "When you see men choke down their fear and dive in after an unexploded bomb so that our planes can land safely, a lump comes in your throat and you know why America wins wars". Shell craters are more dangerous to work on than bomb craters. You have a feeling that no two bombs ever hit in the same place, but this isn't true of shells. A Jap five-inch gun lobs a shell over on your airstrip and blasts a helluva hole. What are you going to do? You know, just as the that Jap artillery man knows, that if he leaves his gun in the same position and fires another shell, the second shell will hit in almost the same spot as the first one. So a good old Jap trick was to give us enough time to start repairing the hole and then fire the second shell. All you can do is depend on hearing that second shell coming and hope you can scramble far enough away before it explodes. But this is a gamble which is frowned upon by life insurance companies.
Hello all my name is Kyle Thomas and I am fairly new to this forum. I was wondering if there is any one out there who could help me find more information on my Uncle Harold G. Parnell. He was killed in action in Tunisia on April, 15 1943. I am having a hard time finding any information on the Mediterranean Theater in North Africa. I have gotten some information from Roque Riojas whom I met researching information on my uncle. I also read in this forum that Dogdaddy has done extensive research on the Mediterranean Theater. If any one could set me in the right direction it would be greatly appreciated.
Thank you for any help.
Kyle Thomas
(email address removed for privacy - members can reach other members while logged in)
Marion, I just got this e-mail this am from Sgt. Kyle Thomas, stationed in Germany. His uncle was in the 34th so he wrote me, got my e-mail address from someone at the last reunion, so we have been keeping in touch. Thought you might like to read this. Very interesting. The pics are of a ghost town. If you want to share it it's OK. Rocky ...
How are things going? I have sure been busy so far this summer. My parents came for a visit a couple weeks ago and we were all over Germany. I took them to Bavaria and we visited the Eagles Nest. I also took them to Bastogne. We stayed pretty busy. I sent you the book on the 34th to take to the reunion in September. I really appreciate you doing this for me. And maybe someone will remember my uncle. I put some pictures of him inside the front cover. A couple of friends and I made a combat trip a week ago to southern France to a village called Oradour Sur Glane. The village was surrounded by two SS divisions on 10 June 1944 and all its residents rounded up into the town square. All the woman and children were locked up in the church and the men were locked up in different barns. At 4pm the SS were ordered to destroy the village and its people. They were all gunned down and then the town set on fire. The entire town was destroyed and 642 men, women, and children were killed. The village was never rebuilt and sits as it was in 1944. It was an ire feeling walking down the streets. It is a walking memorial to all who were murdered. Attached are a few pictures. Hope all is well! Take care Roque.
I always enjoy sending out the letters to the troops twice a year and even better getting back word from them. But every time I send out a letter there is a sad side to this; I get back letters that are undeliverable for one reason or other Ususally because we have lost another great comrade. Today I heard from Bob Mauger's daughter and unfortunately Bob has died. He was certinly a regular at our reunions and he brought along his brother-in-law who has become a great friiend of the 36th, Berny Lazensky.
We will keep him in our prayers and know that before too long we will be joining him. May he rest in peace.
36 Engineers are rugged......John Fallon II. Capt. USA Ret.
The Four Chaplains Who Gave Their Lives on the USS Dorchester
From left to right: Lt Poling, Lt Goode, Lt Washington and Lt. Fox
The sacrifice of four men of God to quiet the panic and fear of World War II soldiers aboard a sinking ship has forever left its mark indelibly engraved on the minds of all who hear the story. It is a story of brotherly love and sacrifice ... and the power of faith in a moment of tragedy.
On February 3, 1943, the USS Dorchester would become another statistic in the 'ships-lost-at-sea' column. But unlike others before it, what would take place on deck of the Dorchester would become a significant event for all time.
Pushing through the treacherous waters with 905 American servicemen aboard bound for Greenland, the Dorchester left its convoy a few hours short of its destination, not an unusual maneuver. A Nazi submarine, stalking the ship undetected, took this opportunity to fire a torpedo straight toward the ship's flank. The missile struck amid ships and exploded in the boiler room. Many on board died instantly. Some were trapped below deck. Others, jolted from their bunks, half asleep, clambered to reach the decks of the stricken vessel. The ship, taking on water rapidly, began listing to starboard. Because security reasons prevented use of distress flares, escort vessels, still close enough to assist, pushed on into the darkness, unaware that the Dorchester was sinking. Overcrowded lifeboats capsized; rafts drifted away before anyone could reach them.
On deck, amid confusion and terror, Army Chaplains George L. Fox, Alexander D. Goode, Clark V. Poling and John P. Washington moved about calming frightened men, directing bewildered soldiers to lifeboats, and distributing life jackets with calm precision. Soon, the supply of jackets was exhausted, yet four young soldiers, afraid and without life vests, stood waiting. Quickly the chaplains stripped off their own and forced them upon the young soldiers.
The four men of God (one Catholic, one Jewish and two Protestant) had given away their only means of saving themselves in order to save others. Men rowing away from the sinking ship in lifeboats saw the chaplains clinging to each other on the slanting deck. Their arms were linked together, their heads were bowed as they prayed to the one God whom each of them loved and served.
The Dorchester sank beneath the icy waters of the North Atlantic, carrying with it the four chaplains and some 675 servicemen.
