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Test to Come. Brother officers, in moments of highly confidential shoptalk, have been known to accuse Buckner of possessing too much surface brilliance— a damning indictment in the Army. Much of that criticism may well have stemmed from subconscious envy of Buckner's first-rate vocabulary, which shines with added luster against the background of a traditionally inarticulate profession. His standing with the Army's top leaders is attested by the fact that they have entrusted an army to his command at this stage of the war, when there is no lack of good generals with recent battle experience. As for the final test of combat—Buckner and his army will write that answer.
Buckner was a colonel in 1940, serving as chief of staff to the 6th Division, when he got his orders to Alaska. There was an immediate promotion to brigadier general in the assignment, and a task no good officer could have faced with overconfidence. Commanding a force that was never to go above 14,000 men until after Pearl Harbor, he had to fortify and guard a sparsely populated region one-fifth the size of the U.S., with a coastline nearly twice as long.
The brand-new general threw himself into the task of fortifying this land. Everywhere military installations were under construction. The general moved around, cutting red tape and finding short cuts. When cement did not arrive on time, he used stone. When milled lumber failed to show up, he cut down trees. When planes did not arrive on time to man his new airfields, he sent a terse telegram to Washington: FIELD READY FOR FIRST PLANE—FRIENDLY OR ENEMY.
In all the rush, he never lost his ingrained concern for the welfare of his troops. When two types of Arctic boot were sent to Alaska, he put a boot of one type on his right foot, the other on his left, and went for long hikes in rock and ice to see for himself which was better for the men. When two kinds of sleeping bags were ready for issue, he tried each for a night outdoors, in 60-below-zero weather.
Close, But . . . The war which struck the U.S. at Pearl Harbor late in 1941 lapped perilously close to Buckner's domain in the following six months. In early June 1942, when the Japanese seized Kiska and Attu, enemy carrier-based planes attacked Dutch Harbor and troop transports bore down on the base. They turned away when land-based aircraft from Buckner's hastily constructed airfields struck at them.
As the sharp danger receded, the general's job settled down into an administrative routine. Twice he was promoted, once decorated, for his work in putting Alaska in a sound defensive position. Then came the call to the Tenth Army and battle.
Although a man of action, who would rather sail a kayak or tame an outlaw horse than see a movie, the general who came to Okinawa was not a restless man. He could sit calmly in a leather chair aboard his command ship, listening to the reports coming in, and occasionally giving an order. If he had his way, man would stay awake 24 hours a day. But since man cannot, he has learned the trick of sleeping for five or ten minutes, then coming suddenly wide awake.