An assorted group of rugged Alaskans was chosen to form a top-secret commando-type organization that played a significant role in World War II.
Dubbed “Castner’s Cutthroats,” they publicly disdained that moniker but relished it in private. They preferred to be known as Alaska Scouts.
The service of the 66-man unit is a story every Alaskan should know. The last survivor died in 2013, but their legacy lives on.
Although the Army had control of Alaska in the first few years after the northern frontier was acquired from Russia, its presence afterward was limited. Until 1940, Chilkoot Barracks at Haines was the only active post in the Territory but was not fortified. An officer there was Lawrence Varsi Castner, the son of Joseph Compton Castner, a man who served in Luietenant Edwin Glenn’s surveying expedition through Southcentral Alaska in 1898. The elder Castner served in the Philippines, working with the Tagalog Scouts before gaining the rank of brigadier general and leading the 3rd Division in France in World War I.
Lawrence’s father’s tales of the Tagalog Scouts were embedded in his memory. Stealthy attacks against opposing groups intrigued the youngster. Their aid to the American forces in that country during the American occupation following the Spanish-American War won commendations. A third-generation soldier, Lawrence graduated from West Point in 1923 and was a member of the U.S. fencing team in the 1924 Olympics. The sport left him with a facial scar.
A major stationed at Chilkoot Barracks when the Alaska Defense Command was being formed in 1940 under the command of BG Simon Bolivar Buckner, the younger Castner was tapped as his intelligence officer. Castner proposed forming an Alaskan Scout brigade. Aware that General Billy Mitchell, whose childhood was spent at Nome during the Gold Rush, had said: “Whoever holds Alaska holds the world,” because of its strategic location, Castner argued that such a force would be vital in defending the Territory.
Buckner readily agreed and authorized Castner to recruit and train men.
Castner knew the kind of people he wanted. They had to be familiar with the land, proficient at hunting and fishing and capable of existing independently. He chose soldiers with long-time experience in the north, Alaska Natives, trappers, miners—even a professor from the University of Alaska at Fairbanks.
Given the go-ahead a couple of weeks before Pearl Harbor was attacked, Castner summoned four soldiers who had served with him at Chilkoot. They were Corporal Norton M. Olshausen of San Francisco, Privates James Redford of Tennessee, Donald Spaulding of Idaho and William B. “Sam” Bates of Utah. He then began looking for recruits from among Alaskans. Quickly added was Technical Sargent Woodrow W. “Hank” Farrington, a man with 13 years of service, 10 of those in Alaska.
Chosen later to join the group were Sargent Clyde Petedon of Sitka; Privates Staley Dayo of Livengood, Chuck O’Leary of Nome, and Billy Buck of King Cove; Percy Blatchford of Golovin; George Beach of Fairbanks; Raymond F. Conrad of Wyoming; Clyde Peters of Anchorage; Willis “Red” Cruden of Talkeetna; Phillips N. Kendrick of Nome; Albert L. Levorson of South Dakota; Theron G. Anderson, a former park ranger at Mt. Rainier National Park; and others.
One man who happened to learn of the group and eagerly volunteered was Ed Walker, a California native who was in Hawaii at the time. It took a bit of begging, but he managed to be accepted.
Told what was expected of them, all agreed.
Picked to command the initial group was Major William J. Verbeck, who took on the responsibility of training them. When the platoon was expanded to 24 members, Lieutenant Robert H. Thompson, a champion skier in college, was brought on board. When it reached full strength at 66 members, Lieutenant Earl Acuff was added, and Thompson, now promoted to Captain, was made commander.
Knowing that they would be called upon for unusual duty, the men were whipped into shape with long days of training. They ignored Army protocol, but discipline was strict. They were already proficient in weapons use but were encouraged to carry what was most comfortable to them. Walker, for instance, preferred the Browning Automatic Rifle, capable of firing 20 rounds in rapid succession. Al Brattain liked the M1 Garand, saying its lighter recoil did not affect his aim. Many opted for .22 rifles. All packed knives and most had sidearms.
Expected to be placed in groups of 10 or fewer in isolated places, they had to use their skills at living off the land. Training was devised to strengthen their legs and their endurance. They were taught to use stealth to avoid being discovered by an enemy.
When Japanese aircraft bombed Dutch Harbor in what turned out to be a feint to distract from the planned invasion at the western end of the Aleutians, a Scout detachment at Kodiak was able to report on the tactics. They were able to see the planes and smoke from fires and explosions.
Scout detachments, anticipating the invasion, were inserted on remote islands along the Aleutian chain to watch for enemy forces. Acuff was placed alone on one island and was able to give reports on aircraft sightings. When his radio became silent, his superiors feared he had been killed or captured. After the Aleutians were retaken, a rescue crew was sent to try to recover his remains; they found him alive and well. He later said that he was told only to use the radio when he saw enemy aircraft. He didn’t see any more, so he didn’t call. He said he had lived well, diving for king crab, trapping fox, fishing and picking berries. He joked that his would-be rescuers “wanted to stay with me.”
Attu and Kiska were the two islands occupied by Japanese forces in June of 1942.
When the attack to retake them was being planned the next spring, Scout units were inserted by submarines that surfaced off the coast. The men transferred to small boats that were rowed in as quietly as possible. There was little darkness, but the thick fog was both a blessing and a scourge. Finding a safe landing spot and reaching it safely through the surf was a challenge. Once ashore, the men were tasked with locating the defenses and determining the best landing spots.
The May of 1943 assault on Attu became one of the most deadly of the Pacific Theater. Scout units guided the 15,000 Allied troops onto the beaches. They faced 2,900 heavily fortified Japanese.
In the early morning hours of May 11, Thompson led a 25-member group onto what was designated as Scarlet Beach (Holtz Bay) to reconnoiter defenses and select a preferred landing spot. At Scarlet Beach, Scout Corporals Beach and Conrad led the troops ashore. At Massacre Bay, Scout Clyde Peters accompanied regimental commander Colonel Edward Eade ashore in the first wave. They were spotted by defenders, who opened fire with mortars and rifles. Eade was killed by mortar fragments, and Peters sustained 11 bullet wounds. He was taken to safety by medics and was presumed to have died until months later when a letter was received from a California hospital advising that he had survived.
Cruden, the old-timer from Talkeetna, was the only Scout to die in action during the campaign.
An article in YANK, “the soldier’s magazine,” details the fighting in which Alaska Scouts were involved. It tells how Corporeal Levorson and Private Anderson were sent to guide a patrol to wipe out an entrenched machine-gun position on a mountainside. Coming under heavy fire from a force much better equipped and larger than expected, they were unable to radio for help. The two Scouts were sent to report their situation and slithered their way back to the command post.
Just as the two approached, they were spotted by Japanese who opened fire. The two men crouched for hours under the cross-fire until they could crawl to the headquarters to make a report. With the patrol’s radio out of commission, the Scouts made their way back to them to let them know help was on the way.
The Battle of Attu was over on May 30. Fewer than 30 Japanese were captured. More than 2,850 Japanese died on that island outpost, many of them at their own hands. Allies later landing on Kiska found that the Japanese had withdrawn under cover of fog.
Noteworthy is that the Scouts were credited with building the airfield on Adak. After no suitable spot was found, the unit dammed a lagoon, then drained it. The bottom was then leveled and perforated steel “Marston Mats” laid to fashion runways. The Scouts strongly advised that armored vehicles would be of little value on the soggy ground, and few tanks were added to the invasion force. Another piece of advice from the Alaska-savvy group was to make sure that troops were adequately clothed for the Aleutian conditions. Unfortunately, that advice did not aid the troops who had been diverted from their South Pacific destination; colds, trench foot, and other weather-related ailments felled more men than did Japanese bullets.
The character and mettle of the men of the Alaska Scouts are reflected in their post-war exploits.
The unit was disbanded after the end of the conflict. Castner was to go into business in Anchorage, only to die at the age of 47. Thompson was one of the founders of the Arctic Valley Ski Club and owned Thompson’s Restaurant in Anchorage. He died while clearing a road leading to Arctic Valley when the bulldozer he was running slid on the mountainside. Walker also remained in Alaska where he mined and operated a business; his son is former Alaska Governor Bill Walker. Walker, Buck, and Acuff were honored in 2008 at the opening of an exhibit at the Anchorage Museum. Acuff, the last surviving Scout, died February 13, 2013, in Virginia.
The “Cutthroats” were good men, tough as nails, strong in spirit, and loved the place they defended. May they rest in peace as we remember them with pride and appreciation.
Editor’s note: More stories of the Cutthroats and the oral histories of the last surviving Cutthroats are available online at the Alaska Veteran’s Museum: alaskaveterans.com.