FP-AGOM-HW

            In 1939 I saw my friend Dick Ferney hitch hiking up home.  I was working and went out to talk with him, he said, "I'm going down to enlist in the Army Air Corps and go to March Field, California.”  I made up my mind all of a sudden on the spot-that I wanted to do the same thing.  I told the boss that I was leaving, then Dick and I went up home together.  I told my mother what I was going to do, Dad was out of town and I was not able to contact him, I had to have my parents permission to join the service as I was under 21 years of age. Mother was convinced that I was serious and somehow got hold of Dad. I explained my feelings and desires to Dad. Neither of them had real strong objections they didn't want me to go-but they didn't stand in my way. So, Dick Ferney and I proceeded to Idaho Falls, Idaho, and signed the papers. We were sent to Fort Douglas, Utah, where we enlisted in the Army Air Corps. We traveled by rail to Riverside, CA where we were picked up by the military and transported to March Field. At March Field we were taken to the Boot Camp area & issued supplies and assigned to a billeting area.

            Boot Camps get pretty rough sometimes, especially to young punks like us. It was a lot of hard work, a lot of doings, and a lot of takes from a lot instructors who really poured it on. The eight week course passed by slowly, around the end of Dec 1939 I was assigned to the 30th Bombardment Squadron of the 19th Bombardment Group.

            I always wanted to continue my college so before the semester started at Riverside JC, I approached my flight line NCO. I told him I would like to get a interview with the Personnel Officer.  I saw the Personnel Officer and convinced him that I wanted to go to college so I could qualify for flying cadet school. I was assigned to various odd jobs & started daytime classes at Riverside JC in January, 1940 and finished the semester in June, 1940. During the summer my main job at the squadron was to take care of the Coffee Shop in the hanger.

            In Sept 1940 I registered again at Riverside JC & continued to about the end of October when my Flight Line NCO asked me if I had ever taken the physical exam to attend flight school. My hedging was not good enough for my NCO, he told me to go to the hospital and get the physical exam.  Wouldn't you know what showed up? I was color blind, everything else was good. The Personnel Officer told me it would be best for me to come and work full time for the squadron. That ended my time at Riverside Junior College.

            Forced to quit college, I started working as  a squadron administrative clerk in the orderly room. In the summer of 1940 I met my dear Frances through my friend Dick Ferney. She was a nice trim, neat, and good looking young lady. I liked her very much and I think she thought the same of me. We went together for several months.

      

            Frances was working at the LaPosada Hotel, in Redlands, as a waitress. She was making quite a bit more money than I was, and supported me on the dates more than I did her.  I was only making $21.00 a month. We had our dates and went steady until June of 1941.

            In June, 1941 our Group was transferred to Kirtland Field at Albuquerque, New Mexico. The base had just opened and our Group was the first unit to transfer to that base. No one realized at the time that we wouldn't be there very long.

            Frances and I had kind of split up before I left to go to Albuquerque. We didn't correspond with each other. One day while going through downtown Albuquerque, by coincidence we saw each other. Frances was with a travel club going south out of town and I was going north into town.  We were waving to each other and finally got the cars stopped and parked out of the way. We went for a long walk, made up and started corresponding again. She was holding up the others so had to make a hasty return else they’d leave her. I told her I’d be in touch soon.

            We corresponded every day & I saw a chance to get a long 3 day pass (five days) at one time, so I called Frances and told her that I would be seeing her that coming weekend in Chickasha, Oklahoma. I caught a ride with a friend going to TX.  We were happy to see each other and talked at length of getting married.  On the 23 of July, 1941, Frances and I were married at Chickasha, Oklahoma & had to make a hasty trip back to Albuquerque, happy young kids starting a new life.

            A month after being married, I found my group was being shipped overseas to an unknown place. Frances and I had agreed she would go to St. Anthony, Idaho and stay awhile with my folks, as she had never met them. About the first part of September it was time for Frances to leave. It was a very sad time for both of us and amid the tears, hugs and kisses, I put Frances on the bus to St. Anthony, Idaho, not knowing we would not see each other again for a few years.

Philippines

            We left Albuquerque and arrived in San Francisco the end of September, 1941, temporarily housed at Angel Island.  On Oct 4 we embarked on the USAT PRESIDENT TAFT), destination unknown. On the way over we stopped at Hawaii and Guam then docked in Manila Bay October 24, 1941. We boarded buses for Clark Field  90 kilometers north of Manila. We moved into swali barracks newly built for us.

            A week or two before the war started our Commanding Officer, Major Gibbs, told us, in formation though there had been rumors that we were to go to India in a few months, we were to forget it "Just consider that you are going to be here for the duration." We knew what was coming, the Japanese. There was a lot of anxiety and preparation going on from that day forward.

            At about 6:30AM Dec 8, 41, (PI time) we heard on the radio that Pearl Harbor had been bombed and that many naval ships had been torpedoed (Dec 7, 41, US time). The bombing came to us at about 12:00 Noon December 8, 1941. There was a formation of 63 bombers that came over the field and dropped their bombs all over the place. Just a short time later, attack planes came from aircraft carriers and shot up and down the aircraft parking areas, the barracks area and other field and storage areas. Needless to say we didn't have many planes left to do bombing with. There was devastation and havoc all around. At the Fort Stotsenburg hospital many dead were stacked around waiting to be identified.

            The field was bombed daily so the squadron moved to a farm-yard area about 1 kilometer from the field. We slept on the ground with the fleas and other pestilence.  We had been there a couple of days when the First Sergeant said, Watson, you are going to be transferred this afternoon to Bataan Peninsula with nine other Airmen attached to the 200th Coast Artillery. Well, that was a blow as I wanted to remain with the Sqd, I packed and got ready to go. Later 1/Sgt came back and said, Watson, I took you off the list and substituted someone else, you will stay with the Sqd.  With great sigh of relief and thanks, I unpacked.

On Christmas Eve Dec 24 1941 we evacuated Clark Field by bus to our new destination Mariveles, on Bataan Peninsula.

On Dec 29 we loaded on the inter-island ship the Mahan to Mindanao 500 mi south.  We were to be a support unit for aircraft and crews that would possibly come to the Del Monte Landing Strip.

            The ship anchored between two islands the first day time. The second day what we at first thought was a US PBY was a Japanese seaplane dropping a bomb on us. The bomb made a cave-in on the ship above the water line.  When boarding the ship at Mariveles, the acting squadron commander told us, "whatever, you do, don't jump overboard if we happen to get bombed."  This acting commander was one of the first to jumped overboard. He was recovered from the water without serious injuries. A Communications Officer who jumped overboard suffered serious internal damages from the concussions and later passed away.

            A friend and I discussed the situation. He pulled out a small bottle of rum, it seemed the ideal time to take a nip or two for medicinal purposes. Everyone was panicky and at the same time lowering life rafts to the water so we could be evacuated to the land. My buddy and I decided taking a raft was too slow, so we dove overboard and swam to shore.  We had a rough time when we got close to shore as it was all coral rock. We sustained some open minor cuts on our feet and legs. We talked about how stupid it was to dive in and swim to shores.

At dusk we boarded the ship, via life rafts, and the ship was able to continue on its way as the hole in the side was a good distance above water line.  We arrived at Mindanao on the Jan 2 1942, and docked at Bugo.  This was a port used only by the Del Monte Corporation to unload supplies and load-on Pineapple products for shipment. Del Monte had extensive pineapple acreages up on the plateau.

            From Bugo, we traveled to Tagoloan (1) which was close by. We bivouacked around that area a few days then were moved up on Bugo Hill (2) which was a few kilometers back from the coastline of Macajalar bay. From that point we were assigned to the Cagayan Brigade, which was commanded by Colonel Wm. Morse, US Army, Infantry. The Colonel had his headquarters further up the road. Our main job was to man some beach defenses on Macajalar Bay - mainly four machine gun emplacements. It was our job to deter, disrupt and/or keep any Japanese landing from taking place.  I worked at the Cagayan Brigade CP from mid Feb 1942 to 12th April 1942, when I was sent back to the beach defense area. I was promotion at Colonel Morse's CP to "buck" Sgt, from promoted to Cpl the day the war started.

            I stayed at the beach defenses for about 10 days, then transferred to Gen Sharp's CPY. Gen Sharp was Commanding General of the Mindanao-Visayan Forces Of United States Force in the Philippine Islands. His initial Command Post was at Dalirig (3) then May 4, 1942 moved to Impasugong(4). I was assigned to the Communications center where I did coding and decoding of messages from and to higher and subordinate commands, including MacArthur's Hdq in Australia.

            May 1, 1942 Japanese made landings in Lanao, Cetabato and Cagayan Provinces. By May 9 the Japanese forces were a few kilometers from General Sharp's CP. On that day orders had been sent out to all subordinate commands to surrender.  Destroyed primary communication devices and codes & sat there waiting for the Japanese to get close enough to effect the surrender. It came down to the question of surrender or not surrender.  That was the burning question in many minds that May 9, 1942.

Difficult Choice

            Defeat in the face of the enemy was not an easy thing.  I tried to rationalize what course of action to take.  I could visualize myself starving, being tortured, and ending up a few feet below the earth's surface.  I had heard weird stories about the treacherous, uncivilized people in the mountainous jungles of Mindanao. Any course of action seemed extremely dangerous.

            When darkness came the communications officer and I were in a fox hole underneath the working shack. I still hadn't made up my mind as to what course of action I would take. The Japanese were down the road a few kilometers and a decision had to be made soon. I debated a while longer and decided not to surrender. I asked my friend, Patrick Phillips, if he wanted to go into the hills with me. He was non-committal, therefore, I departed by myself.

            In my haste, I left my small back-pack (with a change of clothes} in the fox hole. I only had what was on me, a rifle, ammunition, canteen, helmet, and a small belt pack containing a small bottle of iodine, a small bar of soap, and a few bandages. After traveling a few minutes in the pitch dark night, I realized I should be near the canyon rim which I had observed earlier in the day. I was not too familiar with the terrain, so I proceeded very cautiously.

            Suddenly, the earth was out from under me. I made a vertical drop of approximately 15 feet and landed on my feet with a jarring impact. It was fortunate that my knees were flexed when landing, otherwise, I would have received a broken leg. Dazed and stunned, I sat on my haunches a few minutes and realized I was all in one piece. I slowly picked my way over the rocky ledges, using extreme caution, and finally reached the river bank below. I looked up toward the sky on the other side of the river and could see the silhouetted outline of the ridges beyond the canyon rim. I immediately decided to put distance between myself and the Japanese, who were now, no doubts in control of the place I had just left. I worked myself across the rocky river without taking a spill. On the other side, I rested for a few minutes and then made my way up the side of the cliff. At the top, I surveyed the situation and decided to follow, in general, the ridges I had noticed prior to crossing the river.

            I traveled for two or three hours and finally realized that traveling in darkness was getting me no where fast.  I decided to go back down to the river and find a place to rest. After walking for over an hour, I reached the river. I was exhausted and needed some rest, but didn't want to stop right on the river bank. I decided to cross the river and search for a more suitable resting spot. At midstream, I came upon a large rock which was protruding out of the water by two or three feet. After closer investigation, I decided this would be an ideal place to rest as it was dry and free from any of the crawling insects of the jungle. Crawling up on the rock, I found a suitable level spot, dropped down, wet and tired, and immediately fell asleep.

            I awoke just as it was getting light and suddenly realized I was an excellent target. I got off the rock and crossed back to the river bank. I was sitting underneath a ledge trying to solve my dilemma when I saw three Filipinos coming down the river bank. I asked where I was. One of them answered that I was just below Itupasugong (4). I had traveled in a big circle and had returned to practically the same spot where I had crossed the river the night before.

            I asked the natives where they were going and was informed they were on their way to a barrio up in the mountains. I told them I would go along with them and we started out immediately. After re-crossing the river and following it down stream for some time we came to a trail leading off of the river. We took the trail and soon gained high ground. We traveled the muddy, slippery trail all day and finally stopped near a clump of bamboo for the nights rest.

            In the morning, the Filipinos prepared breakfast, which consisted of dried fish and rice. It tasted good to me, regardless of the American reference to it as "fish heads and rice." We continued our journey and reached our destination late in the afternoon, which was the small barrio of Damalaguing.(5)

            At the edge of the barrio, a couple of small children greeted us and took us to the school teachers house. As I walked onto the front porch, I was surprised to see two American friends, Frank Trammel and Bill Neuman, members of 30^th Sqd I’d known for over two years. It should have been a happy meeting however, little sentiment was shown, our present survival and future actions were uppermost in our minds.

            We were in a strange country, in a strange territory. We heard that civilized people lived near, or on the main roads or coast. That inland from the roads and coastline, the inhabitants were more hostile and paganish. We were in a very ticklish spot and surmised the Japs would soon be extending out to pick up stragglers and enforce their domination upon the peoples.

            After discussing our possible course of action, we decided the best solution was to go to the East coast of the island. The East coast was sparsely settled and had no roads. therefore, the Japs would be reluctant to infiltrate the area, due to the inaccessibility of everything. Further, we would be able to obtain food from the ocean and the surrounding countryside.

            Considering the long trek to the East coast, we knew the worst part would be that portion where swamps were charted. We inquired about getting a native guide, but had no luck as the natives were in a turmoil and probably had no desire to be guiding a group of Americans. Many, in the barrio, had left or were evacuating to various other hiding places. We would be strictly on our own. With these sobering thoughts, we turned in for the night.

            The next morning we followed a trail through the matted jungle for approximately two hours. It was almost impossible to determine our direction from the sun, due to the clouds that hung close to the mountain and the dense foliage overhead. As near as we could determine, we were heading too far south, a compass would have been a big help.  We retraced some of our course to pick up another trail or ridge that would take us more to the Northeast.

            After more than an hour of back-tracking, we came to a clearing and were surprised to see three other Americans and a native resting there. We didn't know them, but were soon in conversation about each others intentions. Their plans were quite indefinite. We told them of our plan, which they readily accepted. One of the group was an Army Retired Major from World War I, Frank McGee. He had been physically retired from a head wound (WW I) and was placed back on active duty at the outbreak of World War II. He had owned a plantation in the southern part of Mindanao (Davao) for over 15 years. We welcomed his addition to the group, he could be a real asset. The other two men were about our age (21-25) and were in the service as we were. Earl Hilliard was short and stocky with auburn hair. Bruce Chapman was tall and lanky and had dark hair.

            The native guide could not speak a word of English. However, the Major, with his skant knowledge of the native dialects, was able to impress him with our desires to be guided to the East Coast. The seven of us started out on a new trail heading more to the north. We traveled three days through the dense jungle. At the end of the third day, we came to a clearing which contained a small abandoned barrio by the name of Calabugao (6). Not a single person was in sight. The guide seemed anxious to get rid of us at this point, so the Major gave him a small token and he departed.

            The sleeping accommodations were much better that night, as we were in a small deserted shack that had a roof on it. We were at least able to keep ourselves dry. In the morning the native guide returned. That seemed rather funny after he had been so quick to leave the day before. He came to the shack and gave us a short bamboo tube which was filled with small fish and some kind of brine. The smell was terrible and it had a bitter, repugnant taste. We decided the mixture was poisonous and that the guide was trying to dispose of us in order to get our weapons and clothing. When the guide saw that we hesitated to eat the fish, he made a very hasty retreat. We never did see him again.

            At this time, a reevaluation of our original plan and a new decision was in order. We were practically out of food-mainly rice. The traveling thus far had been really rough. In all probability, it would get rougher as we knew we had to go through charted swamps. Physically, we were in a weakened state and didn't have access to a guide. A quick review of a sketchy map, the Major had, revealed the Pulangi River was not far from our position. If we could get to the river and follow it, we would eventually reach the barrio of Silae where the Major knew the location of a food cache. As food was the prime consideration at the time, we decided to try to find the Pulangi river and follow it down to the barrio of Silae. We estimated that the distance to Silae to be about 25 to 30 kilometers, as the crow flies.

            We started out and in about 2 hours we were at the headwater of the Pulangi River. We went to the bank, which was on a large curve of the river, and started to cross the river. I had my rifle slung over my shoulder, and in going across, I hit a deep hole and the rifle fell off my shoulder and into the deep hole- I had lost it. The water was really deep and I was not able to dive to the bottom. At any rate, I was too fatigued to try to dive again. The rifle was left and forgotten about. Traveling the zig-zag river the rest of the day was a slow process as we had to keep cutting back and forth across the river to avoid the intermittent steep banks. In the late afternoon we stopped, exhausted and hungry, under a small ledge by the bank of the river.

            We pooled our remaining rice and corn and had enough to fill a helmet one half full. Bruce Chapman, the tall, lanky fellow, went up over the ledge to get fire wood. All at once, we heard a rifle shot. We raised up and saw Bruce drop to the ground holding his leg. Two of us rushed up and carried him down below the ledge. Close examination revealed that the bullet had penetrated the upper part of his leg (between knee and thigh) and shattered the bone. Although he was in great pain, he took it like a real man. We quickly applied a makeshift splint with a branch and pieces of clothing. We further applied gauze bandages to both of the wound openings. That was the extent of the medication we had to give him.

            We were really in a jam now since we were faced with transporting a wounded man, weighing approximately 160 pounds, out of an already intolerable situation. There was only one way to travel with Bruce, and that was by raft down the river. In our weakened condition 1t was impossible to carry him for any length of time on a stretcher. We would not last more that two hours at the most. We realized now that the unfriendly natives were out to trap us one way or the other. They were evidently traveling in the jungle parallel to the river and could get at us anytime or any place. They would take their time to get to us at the most advantageous time. I always believed that these pagans were alerted by the guide that took us to Calabugao and made a hasty retreat from us when he realized we knew that he was trying to poison us. We would never get a chance to challenge them as we couldn't spot them through the dense jungle. They had a great advantage in their native habitat.

            Late that afternoon we ate the last of the rice and corn. It wasn't much but it would keep us going for a while. Next we had to prepare a raft on which to transport the wounded man. There was a large clump of small green bamboo next to us which we could cut and lash together for a raft, but, we knew it would take several bamboos, and further, they would not float too well because of their small size and weight.

            The Major and I started back up the river to float down some larger bamboos that we had noticed earlier in the day. We just started to cross the river, in a rather clear spot, when we heard two shots, and at the same time there were two splashes in front of the Major. Someone was shooting at us. By exposing ourselves out in the river, we were inviting another disaster. Since we couldn't sustain any more casualties and ever expect to get out of there alive, we returned to the campsite. We lashed a raft together using the small bamboos and forest vines and waited for darkness to launch it.

            The raft was double-tiered with a platform on top where we could put Bruce. When it became dark we moved the raft and the wounded man into the middle of the river and started down the river. We controlled the raft by stationing a man at each corner to guide it. Another man held onto a piece of rattan vine attached to the raft and extending some ten feet back from the raft. The man in the back would be able to give stability and a guiding support in the event the four of us on each corner of the raft were unable to properly control the raft in the rapids.

            I took the left front corner of the raft to help guide it. We continued down the river, sometimes wading and sometimes swimming, for about five hours before coming to a treacherous group of rapids. About 50 feet down in front of the rapids, the river made a 45 degree turn to the right, and at that turn was a high cliff of solid rock. We couldn't afford to let the raft gather too much speed, or it would be destroyed against the rock cliff. As we started down the rapids, we left the wounded man strapped, with vines, to the raft. The raft gathered more and more speed, despite our struggle to hold it back. As it passed through the narrow part of the rapids, we had to level our bodies out on top of the water to keep from being crushed between the boulders and the raft. How we all passed through the rapids safely, I will never know. Not one broken bone or deep cut was suffered by anyone.

            With all the speed the raft had gathered, it piled into the rock cliff, which broke several of the vine lashings, but somehow held together. We pulled the raft to the opposite bank from the rock cliff and laid down on the bank exhausted and too weak to care about anything. Soon, I heard a yell out in be swirling curve of the river. It was Frank Trammel (he had been guiding the raft from the rear) who was trapped in the whirlpool. I immediately got up and swam out in the river. I got hold of Frank and swam back to the shore with him. By that time I was so exhausted that I couldn't get him clear up the bank. A couple of other men came over and gave me some help to get him further up the bank. We laid there on the bank for a long time trying to get our breath and strength back.

            It was almost light. Also, it had been raining earlier, and the river was gushing more and more all the time. It had risen on the bank about four or five feet from where we had entered the bank earlier. When it rains in the jungle, the water level rises very rapidly.

            After lashing the raft back together, on a temporary basis, we started down the river again. At a bend in the river, we stopped to repair the raft some more. There was light now so we could see better. We took the wounded man off the raft and put him on a large rock. His leg was swollen all out of proportion and it looked as if the infection had set in. Three of the men stayed by the rock to repair the raft. Frank and I went over to a cleared hill, about one half kilometer away, to look for something to eat. We had been gone about an hour when he heard some shots in the direction of the raft. We dropped the wild cassava (probably poisonous) we had found and started down the hill to see what was going on. About half way down the hill we saw the other three men coming toward us. They informed Frank and I that Bruce had been shot again and that he wouldn't last long.

            There was now only one course to follow. Get off the river before someone else was killed or wounded. By traveling due west, and if lucky, we could come out in the vicinity of a large valley in the middle of the Island. We all felt that this was the only sensible plan to follow under the adverse circumstances we were in. We had to leave Bruce behind with the hopes that someone could return with help to rescue him alive or dead. Right now if we were to survive, we had to move away from the river.

            By reading the compass the Major had, we tried to keep our course due west as much as possible by traveling up small streams and over ridges. Whenever we got out of the small stream beds, and to keep our course as correct as possible, we would always run into the jungle "hold-me-backs" which caused a lot of cuts and scratches. The curved thorns made our clothes pretty tattered and torn.

            That first night away from the river was a miserable one. It had started to rain hard again, and we had to do something about getting a little rest. We found a large boulder with a overhang on it. Frank McGee and I got down underneath the overhang and as close as we could to the base of the rock. Bill Neuman and Frank Trammel laid on top of us. Earl Hilliard hung onto a tree practically all night, trying to catch a few winks that way.

            When it was light again, we decided to get up and get moving again. Believe me, talk about a bunch of stiff people that morning, it was something else. After a while we got stretched out and the sore bones and muscles disappeared somewhat.

            For three days we continued without food through the wet slippery jungle. There were always plenty of leeches going through your shoes or up on the ankles. They would then bury their heads in your skin and suck the blood out of you. They were dangerous as they would cause infection, especially if they were pulled off and the head stayed in under your skin. To get the head out, we would apply iodine or tobacco juice on the leech and this would make the leech pull its head out. This remedy probably lessened some bad problems later on. On the third day we came to a trail that was going in the direction that we wanted to go. We kept on the trail all day long. In the late afternoon, we stopped to prepare a sort of lean-to for night. We were sitting down catching our breath when Bill said he heard a cock crow. No one else heard anything, so we tried to convince him that he was imagining things. He kept insisting that we go a little further. We were all weak and tired, but upon his insistence, and with the hope that he had heard something, we decided to go a little further.

            We traveled about an hour longer, and soon came to a large clearing or Kaingin. Kaingin is a small clearing in the jungle that is used by the natives to raise garden produce. We were evidently getting into a little more civilized area.

            The clearing was a real welcome sight after being confined in the dark jungle for so long. On the far side of the clearing we saw a good sized shack with smoke coming out of it. Because of the large cleared garden area, we were positive that friendly natives were living there. At that stage of the game we were ready to take over the place whether the natives were friendly or not. Suddenly, dogs began barking and an old man came out of the shack. As we approached, the old man stood his ground. He appeared to be friendly. One thing for sure, we could at least see him and that was more than we could do with the previous natives who had given us so much trouble and misery.

            He had a scant understanding of the English language, and of course the first thing we asked for was food. We asked the old man to prepare each of us a chicken, but he ignored us and cooked a large rooster and a small pot of rice. At first we thought he was slighting us on the food, but after we had eaten, we knew that our eyes had been much bigger than our shrunken stomachs. We felt like kings after that meal. Our morale was boosted considerably. We all bedded down in a part of the shack and had the first decent sleep in several nights. We were a happy bunch the next morning when we asked the old man where we were. He beckoned for us to follow him. He led us to the edge of a hill and pointed down into the large jungle-less valley below. When he told us that the large town in the valley was Malaybalay, we were immediately oriented. The old man told us that we were near a barrio by the name of Manalig (7) and that he would take us down to the small barrio. The old man took us down the jungle trails to the barrios which was about two or three kilometers away. The old man took us to a medium sized hut and people were out in the small barrio looking at the sights they had to see. They were seeing five Americans. This was, no doubt, something new to them as whites were probably never up in the jungles that far.

            A male Filipino, about 40 years of age, came out of the hut and spoke to us in very good English. We later found out that he had evacuated to this spot from the Provincial Capitol of Malaybalay in the valley below. He had good control of the people in the barrio and was, no doubt, a self-appointed leader or major of the place. The man got some of the natives to prepare some food for us and we stayed there that day and had food and rested. He told us about another barrio which was five or six kilometers northwest of Manalig (7). He further stated that would probably be the place we could stay for some time. It appeared to us, in discussing it, that he didn't want us around where he was for some reason or other. He probably wanted to maintain his control over the barrio without any other outside influences. He knew the head person at the other barrio. So, in talking it over with him, we decided we would move to the other barrio to try to rest, recuperate, and regain some of our strength and energy.

            With the mayor, we discussed the problem we had with our good friend Bruce who we had left behind. The self-appointed leader or mayor stated that it would be very dangerous and practically impossible to go back and try to rescue or recover his body. He said that even in normal peacetime operations this would be a huge task to accomplish, and would require a large armed patrol. Further that there could be no guarantee of success or even partial success. With the war going on, it would also be impossible to enlist the support of anyone to try a rescue mission. He stated that the natives in that area were very hostile and almost impossible to apprehend. Of course, he was just stating what we had already learned by experience. We all felt badly about Bruce, and at the same time counted our own blessings that we all got out of that terrible situation.

            In the meantime, before leaving the next day, my legs below the knees were swollen. My right leg had at least 20 cuts or sores which looked like infected areas that were turning into boils or ulcers. The left leg had at least 10 or more of the same ulcers, sores, or boils.- whatever you want to call them. Both legs were swelled severely and the size of the ulcers varied from small to large. I would have a hard time walking the 5 or 6 miles to the next barrio. So, the self appointed leader, or mayor, hustled out a carabao from one of the natives and I rode the carabao to the next small barrio by the name of Manankial (8).

            When we arrived at Manankial (8) we were introduced to one of the men that spoke broken but understandable English. He was a man of about 30 years of age. He seemed to be a nice person and gave all indications that he was ready to help us all he could.

            We were all in pretty bad shape and we knew it was going to take some time to recover from this ordeal we had been through. Even though the barrio was small, I would estimate that there was a total of 60 to 75 men, women and children. We were housed in a small deserted shack and had our own cooking pot. Some of the natives built us bamboo bed frames to keep us off of the floor.

            The people of Manankial were friendly and most of them did not speak English. God Bless them, they were willing enough to share their meager supply of food to keep us going.

            We were more or less anchored there for the time being. We really didn't know what to do. So, what we were doing was just sitting it out there, trying to recover from our aches, pains, sores, etc. It was more or less living one day at a time.

            We were remote from any Japanese garrison. The closest would be Malabalay, so we felt quite secure in that the possibility of raids up into the area of the mountains was remote. Normally, the Japanese didn't stray off the roads too much. Even if they did stray, the grapevine could pass along any message and we would probably know soon enough in order that we could evacuate to another spot until they left or went back to their camp.

            As it was, we stayed at the barrio for a period of about three months. While there we of course got bored, wondered what was happening in the war, and how our loved ones were at home. I personally wondered about my new dear wife, and how she was surviving. My own personal family was also on my mind continually. I also had dreams about refrigerators full of food, etc. I tried to take care of my ulcers which got worse daily. I decided that my primary thought and job should be to take care of my ulcers the best I could. If flies or other foreign matter got into the ulcers, I had the very good possibility of having to contend with other infections of diseases which could put me under the ground.

            It was fortunate that I had iodine, soap, a handkerchief, and a napkin. When the sores festered and one became ripe, and the opening was there, I could look into the opening and spot the number of channels which was normally three. Each one of the channels would have a core, unlike any regular boil which usually has only one core. When the ulcer was ripe, the cores could be squeezed or pushed out. So, this was a daily task that I had to take care of, clean them off, wash them off, clean them off, take the cores out and cover them with the handkerchief and napkin I had so the flies wouldn't deposit eggs or germs into them.

            Bill Neuman had a large sore, about the size of a half dollar, on the calf of his leg. He didn't seem to be to concerned about it, just tried to keep it dusted off. He accused me of being overly concerned of my sores. I told Bill to take care of himself and I would take care of myself and that ended that. I kept telling Bill that he was welcome to use my iodine and soap but he didn't seem to care.

            Our clothes were tattered and torn. Our shoes were in bad shape. We were practically without sox. What socks I had weren't worth wearing so I threw them away.

            A condition existed in the barrio regarding the existence of cock-roaches and lice. At night time it was not uncommon to hear the rustling of large cock roaches (many over one and one half inches long) scurrying around the edge of the bamboo bed frame. The cock-roaches were a common pest in the mountain barrios and there was not a thing you could do about it, especially in war time when you couldn't get anything to fight them with.

            We only had the clothes that were on our backs (1 shirt, 1 pr pants, and what was left of one pair of shoes ) The lack of a change of clothing led to the existence and continuance of the next condition we had, that of body Lice. The Lice were always nipping on you, especially at night. The only small control we had on the Lice was that of declaring a "community boil day" for we Americans. This was the only likely way of trying to control them in a total way. The "boil day" was not too successful as the lice would be back on us in a day or two. One other thing we did, individually if desired, was to go through the seam of our clothing (shirts mainly) during day-light and spot them. Once we had spotted them, we would squeeze them to death between our thumb nails. This tactic helped some but only in a small way. Talking of Lice, all we Americans noticed that we never did have head lice which all the natives seemed to have. Well, those were two other items we had to live with as best we could, at least till we got to a more sanitary place. Of course, a change of clothing would have helped a great deal.

            During the evening, one of the natives, a young man, performed some ritual wherein he chanted continuously for hours upon end. We asked the man in charge what it was all about. He told us that the man was chanting his stories which had been passed down to him from his ancestors. Each generation passed on their history through the system of chanting. It was a series of factual stories and history that were chanted out loud for everyone to hear. This was a nightly event which we soon became accustomed to.

            As I said before, the natives were very helpful in trying to keep us in food. It was hard for them and we appreciated all the efforts they went through to share their food with us. The food consisted mainly of camotes (similar to a sweet potato) that were raised on the open hillsides. Sometimes when things were normal they would run down to the larger barrios and trade some of their goods for rice. Some of them had chickens. Some had a few pigs. So, we did manage to keep something in our stomach to keep us from starving.

            At one time, someone brought some pork up from the valley. We hadn't had any meat for a number of weeks. The person with the meat was brought to the leader of the barrio. The leader shared some of the meat with us. We could see the meat was ripe because the man had been carrying it for a long period of time, probably two or three days. It had maggots all over it. We took the meat over to the shack. We washed it off, got rid of all the maggots we could and put it in a pot of boiling water. After it was cooked we scrapped all the foam and stuff off the top of the water. We were satisfied that all of the maggots were gone. If they weren't gone it wouldn't make any difference anyway as they could be cooked also. We had a good meal of meat. The only thing was, that later on in the evening, we all got a bad case of diarrhea. We had to vanish outside real quick to get rid of the stuff. Sometimes we would make it and sometimes we wouldn't. Anyway, we had a big mess caused from the rank pork and having not had any meat for some time. At least it cleaned us out. The diarrhea subsided in a couple of days.

            The days passed on and on. One day we heard a lot of shooting, across a valley, on the other side of the mountain. We wondered what was happening. The head man said it was natives of another barrio that was doing the shooting. He stated that it happens all the time. Someone gets mad and starts shooting at somebody else. There was usually not much damage done, but at times someone would get hurt or wounded. It seemed to be a common occurrence every few weeks or so. That was another thing that had to be put up with, without being able to do anything about it.

            Japanese planes were flying over every day or every other day, they were probably carrier planes that were going from one place to another delivering troops or supplies. We wondered and often thought how nice it would be if it were our planes that were doing the traveling instead of the Japanese. If that were so, we wouldn't be in the predicament we were in. But, it was just another one of those things observed and that we had to put up with.

            One Day Major McGee decided to leave us and try to go down near his own plantation towards Davao (which was in the south part of the island). He got a guide from one of the other barrios, bid us farewell, and took off one day. I suppose he was going to try to get down close enough to his plantation so he could find out what was going on there. His plantation was in very close proximity to the Japanese that occupied the city of Davao and the surrounding area. Prior to the war there were thousands of Japanese migrated to the Province of Davao. Between those that migrated and the occupying forces, the Japanese were in good control of Davao Province and especially the city of Davao and surrounding area. I am sure Major McGee knew this but he had to give it a try. So away, McGee took off and we never saw him again. Later on, during the American invasion, I heard that he was shot in the head by some Japanese sniper that was trapped by United States invading forces. So, that was the second person (of the original six) that was gone.

            We were always reflecting back on our days at home as youths growing up. Of the original six, I was the only one (as far as I knew) that was married. We were always thinking and talking of how nice it would be to be back together again, enjoying each others company, enjoying the company of our folks and the other brothers and sisters. However, being in the position we were in, we tried to maintain the most positive thoughts we could to keep our senses under control as much as possible.

            I remember several times I had dreams of the refrigerator that was filled with food. There I go again, always thinking of my stomach. It was nice to dream of even though I wasn't getting any of it.

            I was still always taking care of my tropical ulcers; washing them off, squeezing out the cores, washing them again, putting iodine on them and keeping them covered. This went on for month after month.

            During the latter part of September, 1942, still at the same barrio, the food was getting more scarce. We knew we were a burden on the people there. It became a question of, "what could we do"? We explored many angles, such as moving to another place. One place we weren't going to was where we came from earlier, where we had so much trouble and one got shot. We more or less told ourselves that we should keep in a semi-civilized area where we would not be put in the same predicament we had before.

            The idea of surrendering came up in our conversation between the four of us. In discussing this at length for many days, we decided it was probably one option that we really should consider. However, we thought we should approach the self made mayor, or leader of the other barrio for his opinion. He was the most intelligent and had the most connections in Malaybalay, Capitol of the province of Bukidnon.

            So one day in September, 1942, we packed ourselves together, (we only had the clothes that we were wearing) and went back to the barrio of Manalig (7). We got in touch with the self-appointed mayor and discussed the plan with him. It was our impression that the people of the two barrios would be relieved if we weren't around. This would be mainly for two reasons: 1) They would not have to support us with food and  2) It would lessen the chance of a Japanese patrol coming to the barrios because of information that Americans were living there. We couldn't blame the people for feeling that way as they could really be tortured by the Japanese. The people had been so good to us during our stay there.

            In talking it over with the self-appointed leader, he said he knew someone in the town of Malaybalay, an attorney, by the name of Melindes. The barrio leader further stated that he could send someone to Malaybalay to make contact with Melindez and set up an appointed time and place where we could meet him on the outskirts of Malaybalay. We ask the leader to go ahead and make the arrangements with Attorney Melindez.

            After the word got back on the arrangements, the four of us took off early one day. We told the guide we wanted to go there in the evening so we wouldn't be spotted by anyone else and reported. We hiked all day. A few kilometers back from the place we were to meet the attorney, we waited till dark. At darkness, we traveled to the appointed place and met Attorney Melindez. We were all very apprehensive and skeptical doing it because we thought it might be a trick to get us turned over to the Japanese immediately. However, the people were reliable and gave us the consideration we thought we deserved. In talking it over with Attorney Melindez, he suggested that we not surrender. He thought we would be better off not being in a prisoner of war camp, but somewhere else some distance from Malaybalay ( 9 ).

            Attorney Melindez knew of a spot where we could go. He made arrangements, through the guide, for us to go and stay with a certain person he knew. He had some rice and a small amount of other food to take with us. He also furnished us with two guides. We didn't have any money to pay for anything. Bill Neuman and I gave him our class rings. That was the only compensation he received other than many thanks from all of us.

            Very early the next morning before daylight, we left the place and started traveling east to our destination - the barrio of Silae (10). Silae was the original place Major McGee said he knew where a stash of food was. Major McGee, however, never felt obliged to tell all of us where that stash was. So, we were going back over toward the east and the Pulangi River. We, did however, know that Silae was quite an established barrio of civilized natives. It was in the valley, not in the mountains where the uncivilized natives were. We knew that we would be pretty well protected at Silae (10).

            We traveled a day or two to Silae (10). I was barefooted as my shoes had given out some time ago. I got some real small cuts on my feet and hit my small toe on a rock. later it swelled up, the nail came off, and I had a hard time getting that cured along with my ulcers.

            We arrived at the barrio of Silae (10), at a predetermined spot, and met the Filipino friend of Attorney Melindez. He was a nice guy, had an average education and spoke good English. He took us to a spot close to the barrio for a few days. Later, in conversation with him, he stated that the Japanese were often coming to that area and we ought to be somewhere beyond the barrio area where we would be safer. So, we were open to suggestions, as we didn't have many of our own. We were more or less obligated to do what he suggested.

            He took us to an isolated place a few kilometers from the barrio. It was off the trail a little way. There was a small stream of water close by. Also, there was a real heavy growth  of trees and bushes around the area. The shack was adequate for the four of us.

            We stayed there for a month or so and our friend would bring camotes, a little rice and a few leaves of tobacco once in a while. At that time we were eating a couple of camotes a day. That is like two medium-sized sweet potatoes per day. That was about the extent of our diet. Every once in awhile we would have a small amount of rice, and maybe a little meat or fish.

            After we had been there for over a month, we had another decision to be made. There were too many of us together to be protected adequately and the food situation was getting worse. So, our friend came up with the suggestion that we split. Two of us would go to one place and the two to another place. Our friend arranged for us to stay with two Filipino families.

            So we split, Earl Hillard and I went south to live with a family located off the trail some distance. It must have been three or four kilometers from where we were previously. Frank Trammel and Bill Neuman went a little to the north and stayed with another family.

            The family we were living with had a young son who was eight to ten years old. He was a real nice, behaved kid. He always talked about how he would like to go to the United States sometime. His parents were real helpful in taking care of our needs. They had some chickens and a couple of pigs.

            One day the old man decided he needed some meat so he killed one of the pigs. We were around when he was cleaning it. I noticed a big white tape worm that he took out of the pigs entrails. Were we going to eat the meat or not? It looked like the tape worm was all in one piece and there were not any split-offs or any thing unusual so we ate the meat. Fortunately, we never did notice any tapeworm activity. So, that goes to show you, that you will take the chances when it is necessary regardless of what the consequences might be sometimes.

            Earl and I stayed at that place through the middle of December, 1942. We started getting reports that other Americans were further south and that guerrilla activities had been started in the area of Malaybalay (9) and other places. One day an American serviceman by the name of Walter Sanders came by with a guide. Walt was a member of the 19th bomb Group of which we were members also. He was an evadee also and went to the hills in another area south of where we did. He told us that some guerrillas had started up around the Malaybalay area and that there was more food there in that area. He also said that there was a couple of doctors in the area. Surely we would be better of there than where we were, especially, with some medical treatment and doctors around. We told Walt where Frank Trammell and Bill Neuman were. He said he would go and notify them of the news.

            After many thanks to our gracious family, We, with a guide, started down on Christmas Day to join the guerrillas. It was a two or three day hike. On our way there, and east of Malaybalay, we went through a level place where there were huge rice crops. I later found out that the government had an agricultural school there and one of the projects was testing/raising rice. So this was great, there was plenty of rice in the area. The only problem was that the Japanese had control of the area and surely were not going to let any one else in on it. When we were south of Malaybalay (9) we got to a surfaced roads That was something as we hadn't seen a road for several months. We saw and talked to many people who were better educated and talked the English language real good.

            By the end of December, we had a lot of other people, including a Priest and Doctor, who were joining the guerrillas. The guerrillas had started somewhere south of Malaybalay (9) and their headquarters was about 15 to 20 Kilometer's southwest of Malaybalay at the barrio of Bancud(11). We traveled by foot to Bancud(11) which was off the main provincial highway about three kilometers. After arriving there we found through Walter Sanders that Bill Neuman had died of gangrene caused from the large sore on the calf of his leg. So, that was three out of the original six that were gone (died).

            We learned the guerrillas in the area were under the control of a Colonel Andrews who was a pilot in the Philippine Air Corps. About a month or so after Colonel Andrews had control of the guerrilla activity, a large number of Moros from Catabato Province arrived on the scene. The Moro force was commanded by a General Salapada K. Pendatun. Pendatum had appointed himself a Brigadier General. He took control of the total guerrilla force in the area. So, anything that took place was initiated by Brigadier General Pendatun. He was, I heard, a lawyer and former senior adviser to the Governor of Mindanao.

            Pendatun's total guerrilla force was composed of several hundred people of which the Moros were the largest part. Catabato Province took in a good portion of central to south central Mindanao. Another group of Moros resided in the Province of Lanao. Lanao Province was adjacent (west) and a Little north of Catabato Province. At the time of WW II, both provinces of Moros totaled at about 400,000 population. Due to the varied beliefs of the Christian and Moros, you can readily see that the Moro population had a great influence on the total population of Filipinos on the Island of Mindanao.

            It was often said that the reason the Moros came up from Catabato Province to Bukidnon Province was to get all the ammunition and arms they could, by any means, then go back to Catabato to do their thing. Needless to say, there were many conflicts - political, military, religious and otherwise - going on all the time for people to gain control of guerrilla units and to establish their control or authority over certain areas and people. The case of General Pendatun was no exception. He did get initial control of the Bukidnon-Catabato Forces. All orders and directives were issued under the Bukidnon-Catabato Forces Colonel Andrews who, before the surrender, was in command of the Philippine Army Air Corps, became General Pendatun's Chief of Staff. From what I heard, I think it proceeded smoothly during the transitional period.

            The Moros remained in the Bukidnon Province area for a number of months. Later on, I heard that many of the Moro supporters of Pendatun, who he had originally brought from Catabato Province, had loaded up with arms and ammunition and took off back to Catabato. However, I also heard that Pendatun still stayed around for a while. So, he was the one that had the ultimate control while I was in the Bukidnon area. He was the one that signed the orders and directives for myself and the other Americans in the area.

            When we Americans joined up with the Bukidnon-Catabato Force, we were given Commission status. Some were made Second Lieutenants and some were made First Lieutenants, depending on what rank was held previous to the surrender. I had the rank of Sergeant and was commissioned as a First Lieutenant. I don't think there was any verification from any higher authority to give Pendatun the authority to do that. However, it was done, as is done in a lot of cases and emergencies. Most of the other Americans were given commissioned ranks.

            The first written instructions I received was as of January 5. 1943, and was Special Order # 22. It was written by the Command of Brigadier General Pendatun and signed by Colonel Andrews, Chief of Staff. This order detailed the 12 to 14 Americans in the area to specific assignments. Lt. Hilliard and I were to go the landing field at or close by Maramag (13). The order further directed Hilliard and I to report to the Chief of Staff to get further orders.

            On the same day, January 5, 1943, Hilliard and I reported to Colonel Andrews and received further instructions about where to go and what to do on our assignment. He further gave us a written memo addressed to us and dated January 5, 1943. In the memo we were directed to proceed by the first available transportation (which was always by foot) to Maramag Field (13) with 4 enlisted men and one weeks ration to accomplish the following mission: a) construct obstructions of any nature along the landing field to prevent possible attempt by the enemy to use the field; b) reconnoiter the areas around the field to observe locations of bombs, ammunition, or aviation gasoline that might have been there before the date of the surrender; c) to question the persons living in the nearby areas and ascertain if they might have knowledge of hidden stores of bombs, ammunition, or gasoline; d) submit a report of our findings to the headquarters at least once a week.

            Other Americans were given similar assignments. Two of them were assigned to the airfield at Valencia. Two others were assigned to an airfield at Dologon. Their instructions were similar to the ones that we had received. Most of the other American assignments were of special duty around the headquarters area.

            Before leaving to go to Maramag Field, I was given pesos to take care of the needs, mainly food, for the men under my command. The money was signed for by me and was received from the Finance Officer of the Bukidnon-Catabato Force. Everything was legal as far as General Pendatun was concerned.

            As I was in charge of the detail going to Maramag Field (13), we got on our way. Maramag Field was a total distance of about 25 to 30 kilometers, as the crow flies, from Bancud (11). On our way, we stopped at Valencia (12) for a few days. Next we traveled to Maramag Field (13) and started to comply with the instructions we had received. We stayed around that area for some time. After the assignment to obstruct the field, inquire about supplies, and search for supplies was finished, it was a matter of keeping track of everything and waiting for further orders. Soon, other Americans came to stay at our bivouac area. So, in effect, what we had in that area was a bivouac for most of the American service personnel that were in the original area of Bancud. At one time, I guess we had anywhere from 10 to 14 Americans living at the bivouac area of Maramag Field. I think it was a way of getting the American off to the side where they (the Filipino service personnel) could feel free to operate the way they wanted to, without any contest from us. From the period of February to the middle of May, 1943, we American Service Personnel bivouacked at Maramag Field (13) were in a state of recouping from malaria, infections, worms, exhaustion, and malnutrition. The food was slim pickings also. However, being assigned to some kind of guerrilla units authorized us to get rations one way or another. We would get pesos to buy locally or get the rations from the army itself.  It was mainly that we would get pesos from the finance officer, and in turn we would buy locally. This was much better than in the mountains, where we depended on the local natives for a hand out and were not able to pay them in return. So it was better handled by belonging to some type of military organization.

            While we were in the Maramag Field (13) area, we were kind of under the control of a Filipino Lieutenant who was in command of an infantry unit. He had previously been in the peace time Philippine Constabulary. As a lot of people were, the constabulary was converted over to the Army. So Lt. Orbase had control of the area in and around Maramag Field and Maramag Barrio.

            During the period from February to the first part of June, it became clear that other forces in the Island had started up. We had heard of another force up west from us, near or in Lanao Province. We heard it was a one certain Wendell Fertig that had got control of a guerrilla unit in that area. I think that communication had been going on between Fertig and Pendatun as to the extent of where and when authority existed in the two areas. As far as I can recall, from hearsay and otherwise, it seemed there was quite a difference of opinions on who was going to do what, where and how. In other words, who had be authority to do what. It seemed to me that Wendell Fertig evidently had a larger command and had more contacts to somehow push through his ambitions and desires. At any rate, most of the Americans under Pendatuns control were interested in going to the area controlled by Fertig. We felt that we would have a better chance to participate more effectively under the command of an American.

            From the first part of June, most Americans, as I recall, were given the option to request reassignment in another area. It was done by writing a normal letter: Subject: "Request for Transfer". I wrote a request for transfer on the 2nd of June, 1943. The request was directed to the Commanding Officer of the Bukidnon-Cotabato Force requesting transfer to the unit at Talakag, Bukidnon, which was under Fertigs control. I received a 1st Endorsement back on my letter. The endorsement was dated the 3rd of June, 1943, and gave approval of the request. The letter was signed by Salipada K. Pendatun, Major, Infantry. I could only assume that, from the drop from Brigadier General to Major, there had been some goings on as to rank and he had flatly been told that he as going to start out as a Major and no more. So, like everything else about the ranks that were given out, it was a matter of who had the clout and authority (from where I did not know).

            Previous to my written request for transfer and in the middle of May, there had been many verbal requests, made by Americans to Lt. 0rbase, for transfers. This prompted him to put out a "Personal Memo" to all officers leaving for Misamas Occidental. Although the memo did not specifically mention Americans, that was the intent of the letter; ie, to address all Americans. The letter kind of gave us warm respected send-off from the area and at the same time wished us all the luck in the world.

            I might say, while I was still at Maramag Field, which was a total of four months, I was still nursing my remaining ulcers. Most of them had healed. Originally, after I had started picking them and getting the cores out, within a month or so they would heal one at a time. The entire process of getting the ulcers cured and healed took a total of ten to eleven months. The last one I had on the bottom part of my right leg (near the ankle) was the largest one. Of course, it was the closest to the ground and got the most dirt, water and everything else on it. It was the real hard one to heal.

            During the period I was at Maramag Field (13) I got malaria. This was the last thing any of us wanted. However, I would say that probably 90 to 100 percent did catch malaria one way or the other, sooner or later. From the date I got malaria, I started saving and scrounging any quinine tablets I could get hold of. There was a large cinchona plantation near our area. The plant there stripped the barked and pulverized it. In turn, it was shipped out to be processed into quinine tablets. Some medical personnel, in the guerrillas, would take the powdered bark and make small balls that could be taken internally. Sometime the bark would be boiled down to a high concentrated liquid and taken internally that way. These were emergency means of trying to get the malaria under control. No one knew what foreign matter was being taken into the human system.

            I made a few trips to the barrio of Maramag (14) (which was a distance of about 3 or 4 kilometers from the field) just to get away from the bivouac area and see someone else and do something different. One trip I made over to the barrio I walked on the main road north to get to the road that turned left to Maramag. There was a shack at the intersection of the road. I was feeling bad, so I laid down for a rest. I was probably getting an attack of malaria. I must have fallen asleep right away. To be truthful, I can't remember too much about what happened while I was there. I must have been plumb out of my mind at times. I do remember waking up on the floor of the shack and laying on my back. I couldn't raise my legs, arms, or any part of my body. It felt like I had heavy weights holding me down. I never knew what happened and I have never found out since that time. I suppose it was one of those things that happened through an accumulation of a number of things such as malnutrition, malaria, ulcers, and other diseases or fever. After quite some time, I finally composed myself and was able to rally and stand up. I continued to the barrio. While at the barrio, I met Datu Micayabas who was the mayor of the barrio. He had the best house in the barrio. He had a store in the bottom part of the house. Also, he owned a couple of horses and some chickens. He invited me to stay at his house to recoup from my sickness. This was great, he was a real nice guy. He gave me a room in his house. I think he had about 3 wives and some children running around. They gave me real good care. They fed me and took care of me for several days. That was real nice of Datu and I will never forget him and his family. After leaving that area later, I was never able to get back and see him and the family. I wish I could have. However, one of my good friends, Ben Ferrens, went back to the Islands in 1962 or 1963. Ben gave my sincere thanks and best wishes to Datu and family. Ben brought me back a picture of Datu and himself in front of Datu's house. It was real nice seeing Datu again, even if it was only a picture. Datu looked like he was in real good shape.

            There was no intrusion of the Japanese in the area while most of we Americans were there. The Japanese stayed close to the Malaybalay area, except when going north and west to the coastal area. As I stated before I received permission to go to the Talakog area which was under Fertigs control. So, about the 4th of June, I started back to Bancud (11) where the Catabato-Buakindnor Force Headquarters was. It took me a couple of days to reach Bancud (11). I stayed there for about 2 days and rested.

            I started my trip (with a guide) to Talakag about the 10th of June, 1943. I didn't get to Talakag until about the 28th of June. As you can see that is an 18 day period. The reason it took so long was because of sickness, the distance -- which was about 60 kilometers --  and plus the terrain was very rough all the way.

            There were no roads and only a few trails. We traveled over heavily forested and weeded areas. We passed through covered jungle trails and had to forge large rivers. We slipped and slid though the rain drenched muddy trails.

            I had previously got hold of a pair of sandals that barely fit me. On this trip, they were all shot and had to be thrown away, so, I was barefooted again. One reason I had a hard time keeping something on my feet was because of my large size as compared to the average Philippine size. At any rate, there wasn't too much around of any size.

            I had come down with malaria at Maramag a few months earlier. The malaria was coming upon me most of the time. I knew that the more tired and out of condition I got, the more susceptible I was to having attacks of malaria. That was a well-known fact, wear yourself down and you would get an attack.

            After five or six days travel on the trails, we reached a place some distance from Talakag where an American family, A Reverend Kohler, his wife and children were staying. They had previously evacuated to the area to keep some distance from the Japanese patrols in the event they came to the Talakag area. I was exhausted and totally worn out. The Reverend and wife invited me to stay and rest at their place. In fact, they insisted that I stay and rest there because I was in such bad shape.

            The first night I was there I came down with the malaria again. I went into the shivers and chills. I must of had about 8 blankets piled on me and was still freezing and chilling. But, all you can do is just let it pass. The attacks could be of short or long duration, depending on your condition That attack lasted a long time before the fever broke and the sweats came.

            Needless to say, this held me up several days. Most of my time, other than traveling, was in recuperating at Reverend Kohlers place. Thanks to him and family for all they did for me. I don't know what would have happened if I hadn't had a decent place to stay and get some great care.

            Reverend Kohler and family had been evacuated away from Talakag ever since the war had started. In fact, I think they were in Cagayan when the war started. They first evacuated to Talakag and then out to the less sparsely developed place. Anyway, they were very kind and gracious in taking care of me. I couldn't thank them enough for the help.

            After several days there, I left and it took up two more days to get to Talakag (15). There was a Division Headquarters there commanded by Colonel Bowler. His Chief of Staff was a Major Grinstead. I was assigned there for some time. I soon found out that several other Americans, that were back at the Maramag Field with me, were around Talakag doing special jobs. We lived right in the barrio, which, as the crow flies was about 15 kilometers up in the mountains from the coast. The town of Cagayan, which was the capitol of Misamas Oriental Province, was located on the coast. We Americans were living in a house which was one of the better type of Filipino houses. It was better than anything I had lived in since being in the Philippines. We also had access to a Filipino Doctor and Dentist if needed. The medicine and medical equipment was practically non-existent.

            The 109th Division, at Talakag, was under the 10th Military District, United States Forces in the Philippines. The Commanding Officer of the 10th Military District was Colonel Wendell W. Fertig, who had set this rather elaborate Guerrilla system up. Colonel Bowler was the 109th Division Commander under Fertig. Eventually, Fertig, commanding the 10th Military District, got control of the entire Island of Mindanao. The organization totaled the following: "A" Corps Headquarters, 6 Divisions, a Separate Regiment, and a Separate Battalion.

            I received General Order # 26F, dated 17 August 1943, Headquarters 109th Div. in which certain Americans were promoted to the grade of 2nd Lieutenant. This appointment was subject to the confirmation of the Commanding Officer of the 10th Military District. It was better than the previous order I had received promoting me to First Lieutenant. The order had more authority behind it. Anyway, we had a commissioned rank to go by and operate under. A few days after the order, I was assigned to the Message Center Section of the Signal Company, 10th Division, relieving another person.  On August 30, I received Special Order # 99, dated 30 August 1943, that assigned me to special duty with the 109th Division Headquarters.

            I worked at the Message Center, which was a collection and distribution point for all correspondence coming and going. It was a real job getting the correspondence and messages moved around, especially in a wartime guerrilla status. However, it gave me something to do and kept me rather busy. At other times, I was used on various other jobs. At least I had an assignment and a job to do.

            One night while at the house in Talakag (15), with some other Americans, we were awakened by someone singing some sort of Slavic song. A couple of us got up and saw that the man was sitting on the floor just singing away. I believe the man's parents were of some Slavic decent. Anyway, he was singing this song over and over again. We tried to talk to him but he wouldn't pay any attention to us. From this inattention to us, we figured he was singing in his sleep. This seemed awkward and weird as we could never get him to come out of the trance or whatever it was. He finally went back to bed and stopped the singing. The next day we consulted the Doctor in the barrio and asked him about the mans condition. He suggested, that if possible, he be removed off the island and be sent back to regular military control for medical treatment.

            At about this time, there had been reports of submarines bringing arms and ammunition into the island. We made a report to the Chief of Staff at Div. Headquarters about the incident. Arrangements were made to move the man to a distant spot and wait there for a future submarine rendezvous. The man left our area soon after the incident. As far as I knew, the man later met the rendezvous and was taken out by submarine.

            September 5, 1943, came and another birthday in the tropics of Mindanao passed. It was a hard way to live, but I was still thankful to be alive even though it wasn't the most desirable place to be. I gave thanks for still being around.

            There were a lot of hard feelings among many of the natives caused by the occupation of the Japanese. It was a matter of which side a person took, ie, there were those who took the side of, lived with and worked with the Japanese. On the other hand there were those who stayed away from the Japanese and those who supported the guerrillas one way or the other.  That how you know the true feelings of people and all the hostilities that get created between people of a nation when they are split by the invasion of a foreigner.

            On September 14, 1943, I was given Special Order # 107, which relieved me of my duties with the Message Center of the Signal Company. In being relieved from the message center, I was reassigned to the 112th Infantry Regiment of the 109th Division.

            The 112th Infantry Headquarters Command Post was near the barrio of Sumilao(16) which was a distance of about 30 kilometers east of Talakag (15). Of course, this meant getting out on the trail again. I started to the 112th Infantry Regiment on September 17, 1943.

            The 30 some odd kilometers we traveled was the same type terrain as before, with the exception of a little less jungle. It was still rough going. The guide and another American-Lt. Anthony Bujnowski and I crossed many rivers and streams. We climbed many steep, muddy and slippery trails. It always seemed that it took twice as much energy, or more, to travel the rough trails as it did the ordinary, non-obstructive trails. The first night out the guide, Tony and I found a make-shift lean-to to rest in for the night. As I recall, it took 2 and 1/2 days to get to our destination.

            Upon reaching 112th Command Post (16), I met Captain Bill McLaughlin for the first time. I had heard about him and knew that he had been assigned to the 31st Infantry Division before the war, and that he had been in the Philippines for some time. The 31st Infantry Division had a notable military background. It was in China when the Japanese first invaded China. From what I heard, the 31st was patrolling the Yantze River out from Shanghi. The 31st Infantry had made quite a name for itself. Well, anyway that was the unit Mac was assigned to prior to the surrender of the Philippines. Capt. Mac was short, wily, and a real proficient foot soldier with plenty of guts and gumption. He was the Commander of the 112th Infantry Regiment and his motto was "We're Rough and Ready". I gave Mac P200.00 pesos that had been given to me before leaving Talakag. Mac signed the receipt and the transaction was complete. In the physical set-up of the 112th there was a regular forward command post where Mac and his staff were located. The CP was in close proximity to the Infantry troops. There was a rear alternate headquarters command post which was to be used in the event of an evacuation of the primary CP.

Mac assigned me to the alternate rear headquarters. I had a few soldiers and other help. That is where I remained for the period of time I was in the 112th Infantry Regiment.

            Within a day or two of my arrival, I was taken down with the malaria again. I had the same old chills and fever. That malaria attack made me helpless for a couple of days. Having the attacks wasn't unusual anymore; you could always count on getting them when your body got worn down and exhausted.

            The area occupied by the 112th Regiment was a few kilometers from Sumilao, which was occupied by the Japanese. Sumilao was located on the main national road of Mindanao. The road ran from Cagayan on the coast through the middle of the Island to Davao on the Southern end of the Island. The 112th patrolled the area around Sumilao and had many skirmishes with the Japanese that were probing into the civilian areas under control of the Guerrillas. The 112th usually took care of itself very well.

            In November, I received General Order # 188, dated 2 November, 1943. That order modified and confirmed a previous order of August 17, 1943 pertaining to my appointment to a commissioned rank.

            On November 13th, I received a note from Captain Mac which itemized 5 items: 1) He had received my message of November 12th; 2) Six cans and eight boxes was right. The other carabao had a flat tire. (A little humor has to go a little ways sometimes too) we still have it over here, that is the flat tire carabao; 3) He asked me to ask Lt. Jover about his last Friday supplies as he had sent his men to get them; 4) He said he couldn't come to my place until he got his shoes back from being fixed; 5) Offered me his best luck and to take care of myself. "We're rough and ready'. Signed Captain Mac.

            I received another note from Mac on November 20, in which he asked me to come to the Regimental Headquarters as he wanted to talk things over with me. He also said he had some clothes for me. Needless to say, having some clothes really got me excited as I had not had any since the war started. I had been barefooted for several months up to that time and all I could think of was getting some kind of shoe on my feet again. So, I didn't waste much time getting down to the Headquarters to check it all out. I did receive a suit of Army fatigues and a pair of jungle boots (the light canvas-topped, rubber-soled boots). They were light and durable. It was like a gift from Heaven to get my feet off the ground again. Also, Captain Mac told me that I had been assigned to his 112th Infantry as Regimental Executive Officer. Lt. Bujnouski, who accompanied me to the 112th, was made the Regimental S-3 Officer.  At last I had a title now. I was happy that Mac had that much trust in me to do such a big job.

            I went back to the rear headquarters to my job again. I hung around there all the time processing and directing all the tasks that had to be taken care of. Captain Mac was always active in the lower Headquarters Command Post taking care of and directing his staff on a day to day operation.

            On or about December 20, 1943, I was informed to report back to Talakag (15). I took off for Talakag and arrived there on December 24th. Fortunately, I met some family that had prepared a real good Christmas dinner. That was something new that I hadn't had for a longtime, and I really did enjoy and relish it.

            Initially, I wasn't assigned to any particular job. I was trying to recuperate and recover my strength again, and in general doing what I could to help out the division Headquarters.

            On New Years Eve, 1943, three or four of us Americans got together in the barrio plaza. We had previously sent someone down the road where they were distilling tuba and getting alcohol to run our generators. They brought back a little of that alcohol. That was about the most explosive alcohol I had ever tasted. Certainly it must have contained a lot of unknown quantities in it and probably wasn't very safe to drink much of it. We did get a little buzz-on and kind of had a New Years Eve party. At exactly 12:00 midnight somebody down the road and across the valley let off a few rounds of rifle fire. It kinda livened things up a bit. We thought at first that we were going to have an attack, however, that did not come about - thank goodness. We had a short night of it, but at least got together and had a few good laughs.

            On the 11th of January 1944, I received Special Order # 7, 109th Division, which relieved me of duty with the 112th Infantry Regiment and assigned me to I Company, 112th Infantry (Division Reserve Unit)  In I Company I was assigned as the Supply Officer. I was responsible for the receiving and disbursing all supplies, and for the requisitioning and disposition of all supplies.

            On February 16, 1944, I received a memorandum from Colonel Grinstead's 109th Division Headquarters. I was directed to proceed, the next day, to Mambuaya (17) with four armed men and sixteen unarmed men. I was to proceed there to meet a shipment of arms and ammunition and act as escort guards from the sector of the 109th Infantry. This would be a tough assignment and would require several days. At that time I was down with malaria again and had to be relieved of the assignment by another officer.

            Since I had contracted malaria, as previously stated, I had kept buying, scrounging and or begging for quinine tablets; this, so I could save enough (140 grams) for a full treatment against the disease. When I was about to leave Talakag on my next assignment, I met a Mr. C. R. Domingo and his wife. They were real educated people and very gracious. They were from Manila and happened to be in Mindanao when the war started. They had quinine tablets and gave me enough to fill my needs for 140 grams. I started taking the tablets over a period of 3 to 4 days (recommended time period). Thereafter, my malaria was suppressed and I never had another attack till after about 2 months back in the good old USA. I will never forget the Domingos for what they did for me.

            I stayed in the Talakag area until the latter part of May 1944, and performed different functions, mainly in the supply and message center work. I would get an assignment to depart to a certain point on the island and meet a submarine rendezvous at which time and place I did not know anything about. I was told on May 24, 1944, that I would proceed, along with Lieut. Bujnouski, to Checkpoint George (18) and remain there for further instructions. After several days traveling, Tony and I did reach Check Point George (18) and stayed there.

            After several days of waiting, we found there had been errors in calculating distances to travel and the schedule date of the submarine rendezvous. We were not able to reach the rendezvous point in time to catch the submarine, Tony and I missed the opportunity to go to Australia by submarine.

            I was relieved of the previous assignment I had at the 10th Division and transferred to the Corps Radio station "A Corps" in Western Mindanano. Upon receipt of Special Order B-107, dated June 12, 1944, I was instructed to report to the Commanding Officer at Corps Radio Station. "A Corps" Western Mindanao for duty. That was directed by Colonel Bowler, who now was the Commanding Officer of Headquarters, A-Corps, Western Mindanao, 10th Military District.

            In a matter of a couple weeks during the first part of June, I had crossed Iligan Bay not only once, but twice. Each time the trip was made in a native sailboat. Each time the trip was real dangerous as Japanese launches were going back and forth patrolling the coastal areas on a permanent basis. At night, you could hear their engines running. Maybe they saw us, but thought we were fishermen. Anyway, we were successful in evading the Japanese launches in those two crossings of Iligan Bay.

            During the crossings, I ran into Capt. Jack Samples who was assigned to the 109th Division commanded by Lt. Col. Charles Hedges. The Japanese were quite active in the area. We had to wait around several days for things to settle down. We finally took off and reached Aurora (19) which was where Colonel Bowler had his "A-Corps" Headquarters. From there, I was directed up to the mountain area of Malindang (20). In that mountainous jungle area is where I finally landed. That was where the Western Net Radio Station operated. I was assigned to the Net Control Station for several months. While there, I met other Americans. We had a contingent of Filipino soldiers, radio operators, cooks, mechanics, communications specialists and so on. It was an efficient operation with a lot of traffic passing back and forth on a 24 hour basis. The station handled much of the in and out traffic going to and coming from inter-island, island and Australia.

            At "A Corps" net control station, we were all very busy because there was so much traffic being passed back and forth to other stations, relays, and so on. Being as it was a net control station, you can gather that a lot of traffic was being passed because there were 80 some odd watcher stations around Mindanao and other local areas that were gathering and passing information to each other and mainly to "A Corps" Net Control Station.

            Of course, our primary duty at the station was to locate and/or probe out any Japanese movements on land, air or sea. so that we could plot their course, strengths, and what equipment they had. The processed information would then be passed on to the proper authorities for their disposition. In fact the main purpose of our being there was to pass on information to the American and Allied Forces, mainly Australia, so they could have firm knowledge of what was going on in and around the Island of Mindanao and in fact the entire Philippine Islands. After being at the Corps Radio Station for a short time, we received some new fresh-blooded Americans in by submarine. The small group of men were trained in specific specialties; some were radio operators, some were weathermen, and some were overall communications experts. One of them was a Navy Lieutenant by the name of J. B. Simmons. He took charge of the Corps Net Radio Station. Simmons assigned me as the Division Code Officer. Two of the other Americans, Luke Campeau and Max Hoke, were in charge of the weather station they had set up.

            On August 30, 1944, I received a promotion to First Lieutenant which was really welcome. I still held my assignment as the Division Code Officer. This meant that I controlled all the people working in the code section as to activities, scheduling and assignments.

            We often received rumors and hearsay reports that the Japanese were conducting patrols in and around our area. However, there was one time when we felt that they were coming. that was when our Commanding Officer, Lt. Simmons, was down at Colonel Bowler's Command Post (near coast). Lt. Simmons sent a message, to us, that the Japanese were supposed to be on their way up to our location. We had an alternate place to go where there was radio equipment ready to be used in an emergency. The alternate site was about a two day hike further in the jungle. We evacuated up to the alternate site (21) and stayed there for a few days until we got word that the Japanese patrols never did go to our primary site. So, we moved back down to the primary site and set up operations again.

            On October 20, 1944, the American Forces re-invaded the Philippines and established beach heads on Leyte Island. The American Forces were also flying many missions around all the islands, softening up other places to land. That was a great day when the Americans landed back in the Philippines.

            At Western "A-Corps" Radio Station, Lt. Ben Farrens was working with me and at an earlier date he had met a nice Filipino lady by the name of Juanita. They were married near the radio station by a Catholic Priest and asked me to be his best man - which I was. Ben and Juanita were married, seemed very happy and later came back to the United States and raised a large family. Juanita used to fix some very nice desserts and send them my way. I was very appreciative of her doing that.

            Another incident took place in the summer of 1944. We got the word that an American submarine had torpedoed a Japanese ship over at the northwestern section of Zamboanga Province. The ship was carrying American POW's and had several hundred on it. The POWs were probably being taken from Davao Province, around through the western side of Mindanao, to Japan. Several of the POWs on the ship were killed immediately or shot in the water after they jumped off the ship. There were about 83 POW survivors that got off the ship and swam to the shore. The survivors met up with Filipinos and later came in contact with guerrilla units. They were held at a place near the coast until a submarine rendezvous was made; they were then picked up and transported back to Army control. One of the survivors was Joseph Coe who was a radio operator. He had heard that we were in dire need of radio operators. So he joined our guerrilla force, even though he had been assured of a ride out of there by submarine. He came to our Western Net Control Station and helped out on the management of radio communications.

            Just prior to the landing of American forces on Leyte and thereafter, the Japanese on Mindanao were not sitting still in their local areas. They were consolidating forces and moving troops to where they expected landings to be made. In this shuffle of Japanese troops, one of the places they did evacuate was Iligan across the bay from where we were. At the last part of 1944 to the first part of 1945, we had sent people there to set up shop. Later, the rest of the organization would be moved down there where we would have better access to the 10th Military District Headquarters and supplies we needed to exist.

            I moved down to Iligan (18) about the 10th of February 1945, and was there for only a day or two when assigned to a watcher Station at Malabang, Lanao (22). I was to give the station there some help in the use of procedures and traffic handling, as the people there were quite green in the use of headings, prosigns, etc, It was my understanding that I would only be there for two or three weeks and then would return to Iligan and assume my regular assignment of Code Division Officer. As it turned out, I was there from the middle of February to the middle of April 1945. The main portion of my trip to the watcher station was walking through some rough terrain. A short distance on the coast was on a truck. (quite a deal riding on wheels again). But again, the major part of the trip was afoot through the slippery trails and bushes. Most of the trip was also through Moro country.

            My watcher station was located up in the hills approximately one or two kilometers above the town of Malabang. There was also an airfield and a Kota located near the barrio. Kota is a high walled fortress (formerly built by the Spaniards that conquered the Islands) and that is where the Japanese garrison lived.

            At the station, I had a Christian Filipino Officer and four enlisted men assigned permanently to me. Two of the enlisted men were Christian Filipinos and the other two were Moro Filipinos. We had a browning automatic rifle (BAR) and single-shot rifles and pistols in the event we had to use them. I assigned the BAR to a Christian Filipino enlisted man. It was very seldom that I heard of the Japanese troops patrolling out in the hills or densely forested areas. Usually they limited their patrols to the coastal roads or the sea. Very seldom would they go to the bushes.

            The mission of my watcher station was similar to that of the Net Control station, only on a much smaller scale. We would collect the intelligence data and pass it on to the net control station, which in turn, would evaluate and consolidate the information with other information received and pass it on to the proper headquarters. We mainly collected air and sea activity plus anything unusual.

            In addition, the 108th Division had men around the coastal area who were keeping track of Japanese movement also. Some times the 108th personnel, who had a large operating boat (whale type), would engage the Japanese barges (coastal watchers) at night. So, it was a busy two months while I was there. I had many contacts with Jack Samples and Rex Blow. Rex was an Australian who had escaped earlier from a Japanese POW camp at Borneo. He and Jack McLaren, also an Australian, escaped together and made their way to Mindanao and joined our guerrilla forces. Those three men and Torry Knudsen (a Norwegian whom I relieved at the watcher station) along with Filipino troops were always on the coast doing something to upset Japanese activities. Needless to say, there was always something going on.

            Every one was interested in what was going on and what was going to happen to our situation. When would we have landing forces coming to Mindanao to liberate us?

            On April 1, 1945, after several days of consideration, I wrote a formal letter to the Commanding Officer of the 10th Military District requesting repatriation back to the United States. The Americans had landed back in the Philippines at Leyte. It was just going to be a short time until they landed at other places in the Islands and would soon be in good control of most places. Therefore, I decided I had been there long enough and wanted to go back to the good old USA. So, the letter was sent to the Commanding Officer of the 10th Military District. A reply by 1st Endorsement was received on the third of April, 1945, and stated as follows:  "Returned with the advice that favorable action on your request for repatriation will be taken after the Malabang affair is completed".

            Of course, the Commanding Officer knew things that I didn't know; mainly when the Americans would land on Mindanao. At that time, I had a real bad tooth that had been giving me a real problem for some time. I thought I would go to the 10th Military District Headquarters because I knew there was a dentist there. What equipment, medicine, supplies the dentist had I did not know. However the dentist was there and at least he should have a pair of forceps to pull a tooth out if he had to.

            About the 4th of April 1945, I made the trip to Dansalan (23). It took a couple of days to get there. I got my tooth taken care of - he did pull it. I then went to the Colonel's Headquarters and was intercepted by his Adjutant General. He asked me what I wanted.- I told him I wanted repatriation now and didn't want to wait any longer, as I thought I had served enough time in the Islands.

            It was only a matter of a day or two until orders were cut on me to report to the 4th Replacement Depot which was on Leyte at Tacloban. On April 13, 1945, a C-47 came into the landing strip at Dansalan. I flew out on the C-47 and went direct to Tacloban, Leyte. It was the first time I had been on an aircraft since before the war started. It was quite a thrill even though the old C-47 was the work horse of the Air Corps. It was a real sight going over the Islands to Leyte and seeing all of the military equipment assembled on sea and land. The plane landed at the air strip near Tacloban and taxied up to a stop. I stepped out looking like a straggler from out of the bush.

            At the 4th Replacement Depot, I received a few toilet articles from the Red Cross. Of course the thing I really wanted was a tooth brush, which I received. I hadn't had a tooth brush since the surrender of the island Mindanao. The next day I was able to assemble a few clothes and begin to look like a human again.

            I was hoping I would be flown out of Leyte rather quickly, due to the time I had been MIA and so on. However, I was informed that there would be no one evacuated by plane at that time. Everyone returning to the States was going by ship. So, that meant that I was going to be around for a while.

            From April 13, 1945, to May 21, 1945, I was in and around Tacloban just taking it easy, getting some good food, and just learning what had been going on in the world for the past three and one half years. Previously, there had been very little news received on the Island of Mindanao.

            On May 21, 1945, I received a letter with Movement Orders RO Group K975-12 "Project J". This letter designated me in charge of a group that would soon be boarding a ship to leave for the United States. We did board the ship on or about that date and arrived back in the United States at San Francisco, California on June 11, 1945. What a sight ---- It was great to be back on US soil again. It was great to see familiar sights such as cars, roads, buildings and most of all People.

            I was assigned to Letterman General Hospital, along with other servicemen. We were given extensive medical examinations of all sorts due to the period of time we were in the Philippines. I already knew I had beri-beri, worms, and other unknown ailments. A complete medical examination was in order and was given.

            I knew that I would be pretty well confined to the hospital until the examination and other things were over with. I was told it would be a few days any way. I had no means of phoning Frances, my wife, so, I just had to stay there until they released me and then I could scoot off and see Frances in Modesto.

            I was scheduled four or five days later to go to Modesto by train. It seemed kind of funny, but that is the way they had scheduled me. The day came to depart and something went astray. I was acting kind of belligerent and disgusted that I wasn't getting out of there. So, someone summoned me a staff car and driver who drove me to Modesto. I had previously sent Frances a wire that I would arrive at the train station in Modesto at such and such a time. Well, needless to say, going by staff car got me there quicker. When I got to Modesto the driver of the Staff car let me off at the train station. I waited and looked around and no one was there to meet me. I called a cab and gave them the address where I wanted to go to see Frances. She was living with her folks at the time. As you can realize, there was a lot of apprehension and thoughts about seeing each other after being separated for over three and one half years. It was great, but I had thoughts about it all. It was kind of scary.

Francis and Howard 1945

            As it was, I got to Frances' folks place and Frances wasn't there right at the time. She went to the train station to meet the train at the time I told her. That was already after I had been there and called the cab to go to her place. It was a real mix-up but finally Frances appeared. Of course, it was a joyous reunion. We were glad to be back in each others arms, to be home, to be safe, and glad to be back with each other again. After so many years we had a chance to pick up our lives and lead a normal life again.

            I was put on 10 day delay in route from Letterman General Hospital to my next assignment at Birmingham General Hospital, Van Nuys, California. After a great get-together with my wife, we sat around the house and enjoyed the company of her folks and sisters. Later that day we took off for an isolated spot to be by ourselves and got on with the program that had been delayed by my going overseas.

            Before we knew it, the 10 day delay en-route was up, and I reported to Birmingham General Hospital. The hospital was in close proximity to the LA area. Frances and I rented a place near the hospital as I knew I would probably be there for several days. At the hospital, I was put through many more examinations and tests. I also had Veterans Administration interviews and a complete check-out on my pay records to bring them up to date. I had not been paid back pay for the entire time I was missing in action. I had received some partial pay while in the Guerrillas, and of course those records followed me back to the States. After a few days one of the doctors called me in to his office and told me that I was sterile, and that it was possibly and probably due to the extended period of malnutrition that I had in the Philippines. When I went overseas I weighed about 200 lbs. When I returned to Army control at Tacloban, Leyte, PI, I weighed about 130 lbs. This weight loss had continued for a period of over three years. The doctor said the sterile condition would probably pass when I put on more weight and got back to a more normal healthy condition. Finding out about the sterile condition was a real disappointment to Frances and I, as we had talked about having children right away.

            About July 5, 1945, the hospital put me on a 30 day sick leave. Frances and I hadn't been up to see my parents. Frances and I started back to Idaho via Modesto. We stopped at Modesto a couple of days and finally got started on our way to Idaho.  Through all the discussions on the trip to Idaho, the apprehensions we both had, about getting back together again, seemed to be disappearing and we were getting back to normal again.

            On arriving home it was great hugging and greeting my Mother and Father. Just great to be close to them again. We had long chats trying to recoup all the news that had passed during the past four year's. Looking around the town, there didn't seem to be too many old friends around. They were all dispersed into the service or doing their thing with folks and relatives.

            Dad told me that, during my time missing in action, Mother had written many letters to me at my last known address. He stated that he arranged through the Post Office to have any returned letter (from me) delivered to his office. So, when we were there he returned the letters he had kept from Mother.

            We stayed and visited around the town and surrounding area for sometime.  We then took off to Southern California again. After arriving back at the hospital, I was told that I was fit for duty and therefore transferred me to Fort MacArthur.

            At Ft MacArthur, although I had a few years wrapped up in the Service, I decided to get out of the Service. Ft MacArthur put me on a 90 days leave of absence, and gave me orders to report to the Army Redistribution Center at Fort Sam Houston, Texas. At that time I would be given orders for relief from Active Duty.

            On the 8th of April 1946, I reenlisted at March Field as a Master Sergeant with the date of rank on June 1, 1943.

**o**

            Dec 10, 1948, I received notice of recall to Active Duty as a 1st Lt. I was to be transferred to the 97th Bomb Wing at Biggs AFB, El Paso, Texas. The reporting date was January 5, 1949. I reported in at the 97th Bomb Wing and was assigned to the 342nd Bomb Squadron as the Squadron Intelligence Officer. I served in that capacity for several months.

            0n the 30th of March 1951, I was assigned as the Wing Survival and Evasion Officer. This was created so that SAC Crews could be given refresher courses after going through the SAC Survival Schools. Having that assignment necessitated that the Wing place two crews on rotational basis to the Wing Survival Officer (on orders) for refresher training for a period of 8 to 10 days. In this way, all Wing crews would rotate through the course each year.

            On August 30, 1960, Howard retired from the Air Force as a Major – then with family headed for California, their new home.