[5] He was based near Port Moresby and his reporting included his characteristic wit through amusing anecdotes related by servicemen, and discussed the mood of the troops on the ground and their thoughts regarding the war and its future.
[2] On October 18, 1942, Darnton was aboard the King John, a seventy-foot wooden trawler of the Small Ships Section of U.S. Army Services of Supply SWPA that was also carrying 102 troops of the 128th Infantry, off the coast of Pongani in New Guinea when a B-25 mistook the ships for Japanese vessels and bombed and strafed them.
[6][7] Darnton, suffering a shrapnel head wound, died in a boat on the way to shore and Lt. Adam Bruce Fahnestock, prewar South Seas explorer and then head of the Small Ships Section, hit in the spine, died in the arms of the King John's severely wounded Australian Chief Engineer moments after reaching shore.
[5][6][7] His notebook, which was taken from his body by a fellow correspondent and returned to his son, Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist John Darnton in 1976, ended with a question about the bomber that would end his life: “Jap or ours?”[8] Darnton's passing was marked by many other journalists and officials, including General Douglas MacArthur, who wired to The Times that “He served with gallantry and devotion at the front and fulfilled the important duties of war correspondent with distinction to himself and The New York Times and with value to his country.”[3] Major General Edwin F. Harding of the 32nd Infantry Division wrote that, "Everyone hereabouts is distressed over the death of Darnton and [Lt. A.
"[5] Darnton was buried with full military honors at an Australian-American cemetery outside Port Moresby.
He received the Pulitzer Prize in 1982 for his coverage of Poland under martial law when he smuggled stories out of the country.
[12][failed verification] While author Leo Rosten is usually credited with the popular phrase “No man who hates dogs and children can be all bad,” used by him to describe comedian W. C. Fields, Darnton was in fact the first to use this phrase regarding an unknown man named Gastonbury.
[13] Darnton used it in 1930 after a New York cocktail party, which was later reported in Harper's Monthly in 1937, two years before Leo Rosten used it at a banquet.