He grew up in the town, living on Ervin Route with his parents, two brothers, and two sisters. He attended school and took his first job in the community, as a mechanic with Babcock Brothers. Eventually, Frank met Ailene Crews, also of Hugo, and the two became close.
Frank Tucker answered his country's call on January 2, 1942. At 27, he was older than many of the other recruits at the Dallas, Texas office, but proved himself quickly during his recruit training at MCRD San Diego. He was assigned to the Weapons platoon of Able Company in the newly formed 24th Marines, with the rank of sergeant. In the fall of 1943, Tucker departed for Hawthorne, Nevada for detached service. It is not clear where he was during this time; there are two Marine bases in Hawthorne - the Hawthorne Naval Ammunition Depot, and El Toro Marine Air Force Base, which had just been established. It is likewise unclear exactly why Tucker was detached - Phil Wood mentions having a great deal of trouble with his platoon NCOs during the period Tucker was gone - but return he did, and with a wedding ring on his finger. Ailene traveled to meet him in Hawthorne, and they were married on November 10, 1943.
Sergeant Tucker shipped out with the 24th Marines in January, 1944. He was 29; several of his commanding officers were five years or more his junior.
A Company landed on the burning beaches of Namur, and Frank Tucker stuck by the side of Lieutenant Wood as they moved the machine guns and mortars of the company through the blasted trees. They fought their way forward, watching their mysterious (and ferocious) Corporal Ervin take on a blockhouse singlehanded before being wounded and ordered off the line. Tucker and the others knew they had to keep moving, and it was the sergeant from Oklahoma who brought the momentum back:
Sgt. Tucker was in a hole on my left – he and [Lt. ] Harry [Reynolds] and [Lt.] Roy [Wood] and two or three from Roy’s platoon and I gave the dugout a barrage of grenades – at a range of ten yards – they were deafening – Tuck and Cpl. Robbins charged first, but were driven back by fire.Then five or six of us went over the edge of the embankment and shot everything that moved....
Phil Wood letter, April 2, 1944
As Phil Wood searched for a runner to set up his mortar section, a dozen men from the company took off running after approximately seventy five fleeing Japanese soldiers, chasing them along the beachline. They crossed a clearing and suddenly found themselves in the middle of a wild firefight, as the Japanese reached a prepared trench and turned on their pursuers. It was growing dark and the Marines were wary of launching a headlong assault against positions that might extend far beyond their knowledge. They had all heard stories of Japanese infiltrators, the dreaded night-time counterattacks, the screaming Gyokusai charge. Nobody wanted to get separated in the dark, yet a hundred yards from their front their friends were pinned. Attempts to cross the clearing were futile, and at least one man went down slammed to the ground under the Japanese fire.
Sergeant Frank Tucker was not content to let his company be cut to pieces. Darkness notwithstanding, he crawled forward until he could see the enemy trench in the moonlight. He hid behind a coconut palm and, as coolly as if he was on the firing range in San Diego, began picking off Japanese soldiers.
It didn't take long for the Japanese to notice where the fire was coming from, and they began a furious fusillade, trying to silence the lone M1 that was causing so much destruction.
Only four of us got out of that trap whole – that any did was Sgt. Tucker’s doing – seeing that they were being methodically slaughtered, he stood up and opened fire with his rifle. As each Jap arose out of the opposing trench to fire, Tucker carefully sighted in and shot him – often, as we found out later, right between the eyes. They think that he killed about 30 Japs that way – he put two enemy machine guns out of action, and gave the others a chance to pull the wounded into nearby shell holes – bullets creased his helmet, punctured his canteen, and cut off his rifle belt, but he didn’t get down until the rest of them were safely in position.A later count of the stacked bodies in the trench nearly confirmed Phil Wood's count: Tucker had personally accounted for thirty-eight Japanese soldiers, many of whom had been killed by a single shot to the head.
Phil Wood letter, April 2, 1944
For his bravery, Sergeant Tucker received the Navy Cross:
The President of the United States takes pleasure in presenting the Navy Cross to Frank A. Tucker (347996), Sergeant, U.S. Marine Corps, for extraordinary heroism and devotion to duty while serving with Company A, First Battalion, Twenty- Fourth Marines, FOURTH Marine Division, in action against enemy Japanese forces during the invasion of Namur Island, Kwajalein Atoll, on 1 February 1944. When the Forward Echelon of his company was pinned down by the cross fire of enemy machine guns, Sergeant Tucker fearlessly exposed himself to the withering hail which continued to cause heavy casualties among his comrades and, calmly opening fire with his rifle, directed a deadly fusillade against the enemy, killing numerous Japanese. Concerned only for the safety of his comrades, he remained steadfast in his dangerously vulnerable position until the wounded were pulled into nearby shell holes and an adequate defense had been established. By his great personal valor and unwavering devotion to duty throughout this critical engagement, Sergeant Tucker saved the lives of many of his comrades and upheld the highest traditions of the United States Naval Service.
As the 24th Marines ground towards Saipan, Sergeant Tucker doubtless went about his duties as was expected of a decorated combat veteran. He was promoted to platoon sergeant before the invasion, and as second in command of the platoon, he carried an enormous responsibility along with his trusted M1.
Part of that same responsibility would be his downfall. On the night of June 15 or 16, 1944, as A Company prepared for a long night on Saipan, Tucker went to find Captain Schechter. The Captain needed information on the disposition of the weapons platoon.
That first night we dug in. I don't know how far we were from the beach, but we had made some progress. The sergeant in charge of my weapons platoon, a man named Tucker, crawled over to where I was lying to give me a report on our light machine guns and 60 millimeter mortars. The sergeant - he was from Oklahoma - had won the Navy Cross on Namur in February.
The poor guy had just started to crawl back to his platoon when he caught a full machine gun blast in his stomach. My God, was he riddled! Even today I can see him, literally cut in half.
I used to wonder what the people back home thought when they saw the name of someone they knew on a KIA list. Did they think the corpse looked like the one they'd seen in a funeral parlor back home? Because if they did, they were sadly mistaken.
After the death of Tucker, none of my men moved because our people were apt to fire if they heard even a snapping twig. Tucker had definitely been killed by Japanese fire, which meant that along with their shelling we could expect more small arms fire and probably infiltration.
- Captain Irving Schechter, 1982, quoted in Henry Berry's "Semper Fi, Mac."
Back in the States, Ailene Crewes Tucker gave birth to Wayne Allan Tucker.
Frank Tucker returned to Hugo in June of 1948, four years and one week after his death. The Husonian Democrat ran an obituary rife with errors, among them the account that Tucker had died in a hand-to-hand fight with Japanese soldiers. One hopes that the true horror of his fate was spared his family, the majority of whom were in attendance at his funeral.
He rests in Mount Olivet Cemetery, Hugo, OK. Block 9, Row 17.
[Ailene Tucker remarried several years later, outlived her second husband, and died recently in Hugo, Oklahoma.]
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