Theodore Knapp Johnson
| NAME: Theodore Knapp Johnson | NICKNAME: Ted / T. K. | SERVICE NUMBER: O-13977 | |||||
| HOME OF RECORD: 42 Judkins Street, West Newton, MA | NEXT OF KIN: Brother, Mr. Charles F Johnson | ||||||
| DATE OF BIRTH: 3/13/1916 | SERVICE DATES: 2/16/1942 – 2/1/1944 | DATE OF DEATH: 2/1/1944 | |||||
| CAMPAIGN | UNIT | MOS | RATE | RESULT | |||
| Roi-Namur | C/1/24 | Executive Officer | 1st Lieutenant | KIA | |||
| INDIVIDUAL DECORATIONS: Purple Heart | LAST KNOWN RANK: 1st Lieutenant | ||||||
Buried at sea, Kwajalein lagoon.
Cenotaph at Honolulu Memorial, National Memorial Cemetery of the Pacific.
"TK" Johnson at Newton High School, class of 1934. He went on to attend Dartmouth College with the class of 1939.
Johnson's Selective Service registration, 1940. He was living and working in Buffalo, NY at the time.
The Boston Globe, 5 October 1942. Johnson and Osgood served together in 1/24th Marines.
The "Agony Quartette" of 1Lt. Philip E. Wood, Jr.; 1Lg. Frederic A. Stott; 1Lt. Harry D. Reynolds, Jr.; 1Lt. Theodore K. Johnson.
Sadly, this wedding would never take place: Johnson was already en route to Namur when the notice ran. The Los Angeles Times, 19 January 1944.
War Diary of the USS Bolivar, February 1944. Johnson was shot in the leg on 1 February; the bullet evidently clipped an artery and he died of "exsanguination with resulting shock" whilst being evacuated.
Up before dawn, tight stomach but a ravenous appetite – forgot to wake up Ted, and he almost missed the boat. The last time I saw him, he was mad as Hell and cussed me out for a knucklehead.
...when the mopping up was over, and the terns were again beginning to show luminous white against the darkening sky, we returned to the spot on the beach where we had spent the night before, and fell exhausted on the ground. Never have I been so weary – so drained of feeling. I heard that Ted had been killed – I had been very close to him, and two boys in my platoon – they were merely facts to be noted, not to feel.
...when the mopping up was over, and the terns were again beginning to show luminous white against the darkening sky, we returned to the spot on the beach where we had spent the night before, and fell exhausted on the ground. Never have I been so weary – so drained of feeling. I heard that Ted had been killed – I had been very close to him, and two boys in my platoon – they were merely facts to be noted, not to feel.
