H-AGOM-BElliott

Bruce is a CA neighbor and friend, we both grew up
in KS. We met at an AGOM reunion in San Diego 1994. There I met many who have become very special friends. It’s been my honor to help document some of
their unique experiences.
Preceding
1945 photo – a Quick Look
Bruce Elliott, grew up in SW Kansas and left home at
age 16 to join the Navy, shortly after he moved to CA. Bruce was part Indian and didn’t have a
birth certificate, so he wrote home to one of his high school teachers to
provide verification he was a citizen.
Bruce was taken prisoner on Corrigador and taken to Bilibad prison on
Luzon. He was selected as able bodied and taken with other POWs to build an
airfield on Palawan island. From there he escaped and made his way to Mindanao
where he joined the AGOM. Eventually the AGOM got him on the submarine Narwhal
and taken to Australia at the same time W. Williams 19th BG 93rd
Sqd was taken out to receive hospital care.
How
this story began
I received a call from Bruce, then AGOM (American
Guerrillas of Mindanao) president. My wife and I had been invited, at the
request of Leonard Merchant of the 19th BG , then AGOM historian, to
attend the May 5-7 1994 AGOM reunion in San Diego. I had learned of the AGOM
through Merchant and found that a large percent of the AGOM had been in the
19th BG. After the reunion I wrote a document, including photos, about the
reunion and sent it to each of the AGOM members who had been there. This included
recollections of what I recalled Bruce and others said. I mailed Bruce a copy
for his review before issue. Bruce called back and we arranged to meet. Bruce
and I are nearby neighbors living in Garden Grove CA and it was then we learned that both of us had grown up in KS, he
in SW and me in NW.
I was pleased to feel welcomed at the AGOM reunion,
many of the 19th BG AGOM members had been airplane mechanics and
though I’d never been to the Philippines they soon accepted me as if one of
them, in part because I had also been an airplane mechanic. Merchant had told them I was the new
historian for the 19th BG association, and was looking forward to
hearing what they had to say. They
spoke very openly of their experiences to each other, and to me -- but when
asked to write what they had said, they would back off. The wives tried to
encourage them, but for reasons only known to them, most would not write of
what they would tell each other.
Those who became POWs or AGOMs were of mixed
background and their experience made no distinction between Army, Navy or
Marine origins -- they shared their unique struggle for survival in
common. All were highly influenced by
the intervening events, and developed lasting bonds.

Philippine Islands
Those killed or lost in the early phase were spared
the suffering endured by others. Malnutrition and sickness took a heavy toll,
those who survived paid a heavy price just to stay alive and remain functional.
The Japanese made no effort to provide for the needs of prisoners, they were
exploited as labor and expected to eventually die. Of approximately 24,000
taken prisoner, only 24 escaped and survived, some merged with the AGOM. Bruce
Elliott was perhaps the first, or one of the first to escape. It took Bruce a
year to reach Mindanao from Palawan – other escapes had already made it to
Australia, and thought to be the first.
Bruce had previously been asked to tell his story, and refused. He
didn’t want to be exploited or to mix his reality with others fantasy.
Thankfully Bruce chose to make his story known.
We meet about 8:00 am at The Butterfly, a bar on Beach Blvd. At my request Bruce brought me a copy of the
AGOM address list. I took him an upgrade to the AGOM 94 reunion story. I
particularly wanted validation of what I’d written of things heard.
The afternoon of the last day of the ‘94 AGOM reunion, before time for dinner, I went to the reunion room and listened to conversations in progress. Bruce Elliott and Paul Marshall were conversing more or less in private but such that the few of us there could hear what was said -- they didn’t know I was behind them and listening. Bruce asked, “Remember the time they had the fellows dig the ditch then lined them up and shot them?” Paul nodded he recalled the event. Bruce continued, “Remember that sergeant who spit in the Japs face before being shot, how he went down then got up and spit at him again before they shot him the second time?” Paul nodded. Bruce added, “Now that was a brave man, a very brave man.”
There was a long pause as both men were obviously
replaying that scene in their own minds. Bruce then commented, “Recall how when
some were beheaded how sometimes their head would roll, how their eyes would
still blink and mouths work....”
Both men remained silent until someone came in and
broke the spell of that occasion. Some things they didn’t want to talk or write
about....except now and then to share indelible memories with another who was
there....
Seated at the bar I took notes as fast as possible
then wrote it up in the form of Questions & Answers then sent the draft for
Bruce to review. Bruce had prepared a map, for the reunion, with route, points
& description of events as he’d made his way to Mindanao. I asked him for a
copy. Two days later we got together
again, and put together Bruce’s story.
Bruce later retold his story in an interview
with Roger Mansell, Palo Alto CA, Assoc Editor, Tameme Literary Magazine,
elaborating on what was done before.
Monday Sept 13, 2004 Bruce and I met for breakfast
and he showed me a large map of the Philippines he’d obtained at a the 2004
AGOM reunion – he asked if I could mark it up to show the places he’d
been. I said, let me borrow the map and
scan segments which can be mark up, and redo your story. So this is a merger of what was.

Manila Bay, Philippines
Q You said you were on Corrigador when
taken prisoner?
A Yeah. On Dec 8th 1941 I was an 18 years
old Seaman First Class at the Cavite Navy Yard. I was aboard the U.S.S.
Bittern, a mine sweeper, moored outboard the U.S.S. Sea Lion & U.S.S. Sea
Dragon submarines. >1<
For me, the war began about noon, Wednesday, 10 Dec
1941 [Other side of dateline from Pearl Harbor] I knew full well the war had
started by seeing the bombing of Manila. I had only heard rumors of other Jap
attacks and landings. High overhead, a flight of Jap bombers, coming from the
direction of Manila, passed overhead toward the sea. A few minutes later, they
wheeled around, headed toward Cavite Navy Yard... and me. Three waves of
bombers with 57 planes in each wave, dropped stick after stick of bombs,
plastering the entire base. With fighter escorts, the Japanese bombers never
deviated from their course.
I had been on my way to the canteen to buy a beer,
and was passing the baseball field near the main gate. I saw 4 large coils of
wire, each about four feet high, sitting on the edge of the field. I believe
this was wire for making anti-submarine nets to string in the harbor. Around
the two foot core, the coiled wire was at least a foot thick. I jumped inside
one of the coils. It was my dugout above ground with a perfect view of the
attack.
Anti-aircraft flak burst
harmlessly, thousands of feet below the Jap Betty Bombers and I saw no American
fighters rise to stem the attack. Small
black objects, like tiny specs, began to tumble from the planes. “Sticks” of
bombs were headed my way. I jumped inside one of the coils, my head below the
top. Bombs dropped everywhere as more than 50 bombers disgorged their deadly
cargo.
The yard was flattened, buildings burning
everywhere—the sounds of the wounded echoing across the base. Burning fuel
tanks threw up flames, the plumes of black smoke tumbling across the yard
toward Manila. It was a fire that was to last a week. I was safe, the coils
having deflected any shrapnel. I ran to my ship, the USS Bittern, {USS Bittern (AM-36), Div 8, Mine Layer, Lt. T.G.
Warfield, Commanding} burning alongside the pier. Men were wounded but still
fighting the fires. In minutes, the fires were extinguished and the wounded
bandaged, ready for evacuation. I clamored over the Sea Lion, jumped ashore with another Boson’s Mate, 2nd
Class, and reported for duty aboard the other mine laying ship, the USS Tanager. {USS Tanager (AM-5), Div 9, Mine Layer, Lt. Cmdr. Griffrin, Commanding.}
Meanwhile, the submarine
rescue vessel, the USS Pigeon, {USS
Pigeon (ASR-6), Sub Sqd 20, Lt R.E. Hawes, Commanding} towed the Bittern, towing her from the burning pier. Some of us used fire
axes to cut our mooring lines that were tied to the Sea Lion. With the critical engine parts ashore being repaired now
destroyed, the Bittern could not move on her own. As with the USS Canopus, she
was towed up to Marveles Bay on Bataan, eventually being scuttled before the
surrender of Bataan
Aboard the Tanager,
the only duty was to go out at night, sweeping the channels for mines. During
the day, they would tie up and leave the ship. Without air defense, the Tanager became an “LST” (Large Sitting
Target) for the Jap planes, unmolested as they strafed and bombed at will. With
the declaration of Manila as an “Open City,” the Tanager anchored at Corregidor, finally sinking on 4 May.
Not needing a full crew, I
was released from the Tanager in late
March with orders to report to an Army Captain on Corregidor. From Corregidor,
I was taken to Marveles, loaded on a truck to Cabcaben Point >2< and instructed to be “a look out” for Japs.
If I saw any, I was to report immediately. Food and water was to be brought to
me twice a day. If available, the usual food by now was simply rice and some
canned salmon. It was scary as hell— alone, just about to turn 19 — and Japs on
the way.
Q I understand you’d been on short
rations for some time before the surrender.
A. The big problem was water, we were down
to a canteen of water every other day and in all that heat it just wasn’t
enough. We were being fed canned salmon and rice – I don’t known where they got
all that salmon – also large containers of canned-beef. But the main problem
was water.
Some 29 days later, the
Captain came back and said, ‘The Japs are coming this way. Want to go back to
Marveles?” I knew that Bataan would be over run by the Japanese. I felt sure
that I would be safe on Corregidor as the Japs could never take that fortress.
“No way!” I declared. That same afternoon I began
swimming toward Corregidor. >3< As the sun set, I was still swimming, the tides pushing me out to
sea. After six hours of nonstop swimming, I felt sure I was going to drown any
minute when a Navy launch picked me out of the sea. Dressed only in skivvies, I
was taken to Queens Tunnel and given new clothes.
With nine other men, I was
assigned to a machine gun nest at Monkey Point, facing away from Bataan. With
the fall of Bataan on 9 April, the shelling & Bombing of Corregidor began in
earnest. Dug in as we were, unless a shell or bomb hit you directly, one’s
chances of survival were quite high.
5 May 1942
At 10:30 PM that night, the
Japs started to land troops on Monkey Point, the side facing Bataan. We were
dug in with our 50 cal. Machine Gun on the far side (defiladed) and did not
fire in that action. The firing of guns, mortars, and grenades was intense and
the Japs were driven off, probably most of them killed.
Around 2:30 in the morning,
they came back again, landing 3 barges right in front of me. I held fire until
their ramps started to drop... opening fire at less than 20 yards, sweeping
into the interiors of each. With just the one gun, two boxes of ammunition, and
six grenades, the slaughter in front of our position was almost total. The ten
of us had Springfield rifles (30-06) and six hand grenades.
On the reverse side, however, the Japs landed two
light tanks. We did not have a single anti-tank weapon so our fate was
inevitable. By noon, the word had come that we were to surrender... destroy
your weapons and stand down... and wait.
Wainwright Surrenders
Waiting in Queens Tunnel, we
were surrendered at noon. The Jap Marines {The Japanese Naval Assault Units
were specially selected and trained for assault tasks, not just as invasion
forces. While termed “Japanese Marines” by the American soldiers, they remained
part of the Japanese navy and did not function like the American marines.} were big men, apparently selected for their
size and strength. One
single Jap soldier came into the tunnel, never said a word, and proceeded
directly to the water spigot and filled his canteen. He departed and shortly, another one of these Japs came
into the tunnel and, with much screaming, shouting, bayonet prods, and sign
languages, formed us into four ranks along the road, a cliff dropping about 100
feet to the rocky shore below. The Japs made it clear we were to strip naked,
piling our clothes into separate piles of shoes, socks, pants, shirts, and
hats. With sharpened bayonets, the Japs went down the rows, clipping off dog
tags.
Naked as a jay birds, the
first rank was told to move to the cliff’s edge, the Japs seemingly demanding they
jump to their death. The Bushido Code of “death before the dishonor of
surrender” was apparently
to be imposed upon the American prisoners. The men froze in place. Being in the
fourth rank, I was terrified.
Suddenly, two Jap officers
came around the curve, screaming orders to the now subservient soldiers.
Apparently, the Jap soldiers had not known of the surrender and were determined
to rid themselves of these “vile Western cowards.” With alacrity, we grabbed
whatever clothes we could, dressed to avoid the sun, and were placed on labor
details on Middle Side, hauling captured guns to the wharf.
At the 92nd garage
area, we were all forced to sit on the hot pavement, little food and almost no
water. Other than being sent on work details, we all remained there for another
10 days. The worst detail was gathering up the dead. There was blood, bodies,
and body parts everywhere. We dragged the Jap bodies, bloated from the heat,
into huge piles, five to six feet high and twenty feet in diameter. Gasoline
was poured on the bodies, they were set afire and cremated. The fires would
burn for a few days, the fat of the bodies acting as fuel. When the fires
stopped, a special group of Japs came by, gathering bits of bone and ash into
small boxes, approximately 2" x 2" x 4". These were sent to the
family of the dead, apparently symbolic of the sacrifice their children made
for the Emperor.
At the 92nd
Garage area, water was available from only one small line. To fill one cup
meant waiting in line, often as long as 24 hours. The Assault marines departed
the first day after surrender, being replaced by much less disciplined and vicious
soldiers. One could easily discern the difference as these low class thugs took
over guarding the prisoners.
At the 92nd,
almost 12,000 of us were packed into an area not much larger than a football
field. About 10,000 were Americans, the balance Filipino. No exact count could
have been made as the Japanese disposed of bodies without counting. No official
rosters were kept by American units on Corregidor. There was no shelter from the boiling
sun as we sat on the cement parking lot. I had managed to retain a tent shelter
half and I shared it with three other sailors, including S1c Yoder. Yoder was
what is called a “great dog robber;” able to get supplies, food and water for
us. To put it simply, he was a great thief. I was unable to move too freely having
12 pieces of shrapnel in my foot. Yoder managed to get us water, large cans of
corned beef and peaches plus cans of condensed milk. As the Japanese did not
care if we ate at all, food was precious and water was life itself. By the time
we left the 92nd garage area, we were extremely weak. What appears as callous
treatment of the POWs was deliberate and served two purposes for the Japanese.
First, it placed pressure on other troops to surrender. The Japanese told
Wainwright the prisoners, now hostages, would be executed if the other forces
on the Philippines did not surrender. Second, as shown on Guam and Wake, the
Japanese deliberately starved the men for a period to weaken them before and
transport. This assured that a minimum number of guards were needed for the
docile prisoners.
On Saturday. 23 May, we were packed aboard a small
freighter, jammed in so tight that no one could sit down. After an all night
wait, we cast off for Manila. >4< As we approached Manila,
the ship stopped just offshore from the Santa Anna Racetrack. Barges were
brought alongside and we climbed down. As we grounded, the men were forced to
jump into the water, swimming and struggling to get ashore. I was up to my chin and Paul Marshall, a bit
shorter, said he had to swim. Some of the short guys would have drowned if not
held up by their buddies. Filthy,
sweaty and wet, we were lined up in groups of 100 men, columns of four, and
were marched down Dewey Blvd, in part to show off us defeated Americans as we
marched through the city to Bilibid Prison Manila The Japs intended to humiliate us in front of the Filipinos but
you could see they were sympathetic to our suffering.
Bilibid
Prison, Manila

Paul Marshall photo cropped from AGOM reunion photo 1994
We were at Bilibad Prison for about two weeks then marched to the train station and jammed into railway freight cars. Small, dirty, rusting metal walls, they were ovens in the sun. Again, the Japs crammed us in with standing room only. Despite shoving by the guards, I managed to stand near the door and was able to get some fresh air. Some of the men in the corners were suffocating and passing out from the heat.
Camp
3, Cabanatuan, Central Luzon
After a few hours waiting in
the sun, the train began to move. For hours, we rattled on north, arriving at
the railhead in Cabanatuan that evening. Marched a short distance, we waited
overnight in the local schoolyard. I managed to get space under the school
house and dropped off to sleep. At dawn, we were roused, counted again and
again and began an all day march to Camp #3. With no food for breakfast, the
sun beat down on us as we headed northeast. Each time we stopped, we were
forced to remain in the sun rather than in shaded areas. The tropical sun,
flies and dust took a deadly toll on the men, the column spreading out and men
falling by the wayside.
We passed Cabanatuan # 1,
another empty camp (Cabantuan #2), finally arriving at our camp in the mid
afternoon, 26 May 1942.
I witnessed the murder by the Japanese of four men
charged with “escaping.” For a few days, they were forced to straddle a large
pole, their hands drawn down and tied underneath. Day and night, they were kept
there as the sun burned their exposed skin, mosquitoes and flies swarming
everywhere. On the third or fourth day, much of the entire camp watched as the
men were cut loose and forced to dig a trench. It was obvious as the men stood
in the trench that a firing squad was about to execute them.
The Japs announced that the
men had tried to escape and were now to be executed. One of the intended
victims spit on the officer who was Lt Col Shigeji Mori the camp
commander. The firing squad shot them
down. The man who spat struggled back up but was shot again, crumpling into the
ditch. An officer stepped forward and put a bullet into the head of each man.
The Japs, to thwart further
escapes, announced that the men would be placed in groups of ten. If one
escaped, the others would be executed. It was an effective method. In the
entire war, fewer than 25 men made escapes to freedom.
At Cabanatuan #3, I lived
with 135 men in an Atap (bamboo) barracks, fed a cup of watery soup and a small
hand full of rice, three times a day. I told the Japs that I was a Yeoman,
hoping to get a detail where I could get some extra food.

The Jap Dr’s, inspected us POWs to pick out the most fit. The most fit were marched back to Cabanatuan city, loaded back in box cars and shipped to Bilibid Prison, I was one of them.
In July they had about 300 of us load a Jap freighter
by hand; salt, sugar, rice, shovels, picks, wheel borrows, etc.
About
the middle of July, the Japs selected 300 of the “fittest men,” sending us
again in boxcars back to Bilibid. The next day, we began loading a freighter at
Pier 6 with salt, rice, wheelbarrows, pickaxes and other tools for three to
four days. We 300 were the last “cargo” to be loaded.

North Palawan
Approaching Palawan, the
ship dropped anchor at the island of Culion, >6< an island
north of Palawan. I had found a twenty foot length of rope in the hold and
coiled it around my body, beneath my shirt. I thought I could slip over the
side and escape during this stay. We began unloading supplies and I realized
the island was the site of Culion, a leper colony. I canceled my escape plans.

Palawan Island
At Puerto Princesa, >7<
it was obvious they were starting to build an airstrip. One first jobs were to
pull weeds, gather them in piles, load wheelbarrows and dump the weeds over the
cliff. A wheelbarrow “slipped” from my
hand, plummeting over the edge. The Japs beat the living hell out of me for
that stunt.
Yoder spotted some peppers
growing where we were pulling weeds. He knew that variety was extremely hot,
too hot to eat as they would literally burn your mouth. Spotting a guard
looking at him, he picked some of the peppers, faked lifting them into his
mouth, pretending they were delicious. The grinning Jap guard shoved Yoda
aside, grabbed a hand full and shoved them into his own mouth. With eyes
bulging, he screamed for water as we rapidly disappeared..
Our barracks were formerly
used by the island’s constabulary. I noted that the local impressed laborers
had a twelve foot pole to scale the wall, apparently for sneaking out at night
to spend time with their families. That evening, in a very heavy rain, I used
the pole to climb to the top, pulled the pole up after myself and lowered
myself down the other side. Fleeing into the church, I located the local priest
and said I was escaping.
The priest gave me a small
map of the Philippines, a compass and an alarm clock. I climbed back into the
barracks, asking others to join me. A young Lieutenant said, “No way you’ll
make it!” Chief Fox said, “I’m too old to try.” {Apparently, Fox was returned to Luzon when the Puerto Princesa
detail was reduced by 150 men, later in the war. His name is not among the
massacred.} At first, seven said yes,
but when it came time to flee, only five men agreed to come with me. At 10:30
P.M., 10 August 1942, we went over the wall, three sailors and three marines.
Running to the beach, we
took a small banca, some lumber to use as paddles and headed out of the harbor.
We learned the boat had been left behind by a Filipino as un-seaworthy when he
fled south. With an offshore breeze, we could head north or south. Our twelve
foot boat had a tattered sail and a fairly large outrigger. We turned south,
toward Australia. The boat, leaking like a sieve, required constant bailing,
coconut shells serving as a bucket. One
manned the tiller, one bailed and four men paddled – rotating the exhaustive
task of paddling – it was a long night. Just outside the bay, we turned into a
swamp before dawn, hiding ourselves and the boat beneath foliage.
The
six men who escaped were:
Davis, C.D., Pfc, USMC, 4th
Marines (*)
Elliott, B.G., S1c, USN, USS
Bittern (**)
Henderson, B., Pvt., USMC, 4th
Marines
Hodges, K.M., S1c, USNR, USS
Genessee
Kelland, R.W., S1c, USN, 16th
Naval District
Wright, S.T., Pvt, USMC, 4th
Marines
(*) listed as Pvt in records
(**) Listed as D. Elliott, Y3c in records
In the morning, a Jap launch came out, searched for
a while, then returned to port. For the next three days and nights, we headed
south, staying close to the shore, paddling most of three days and nights. By
dawn of the third night, we arrived at Brooke’s Point, over 160 kilometers
south of the prison camp. Friendly natives made us welcome and a native
Filipino, Ben Aroose, took us nine miles uphill to the house of Mr. Edwards, a
retired schoolmaster who lived in splendid style.
A month after our arrival,
we met up with “Rocky Gause, a pilot who escaped from Bataan on a small boat,
evading the Japs for months. I don’t remember much as I was down with malaria.
In his diary, he mentions he left some rifles with us. There was no way we
could all get in his boat so we decided to remain, the six of us sticking
together. I typed up a letter to my folks on Edward’s typewriter and managed to get it home to my family within
the year. {P 124, Gause, Damon “Rocky”, The
War Journal of Major Damon “Rocky” Gause; The Firsthand Account of One of
the Greatest Escapes of World War II, Hyperion, New York, 1999. Gause states
before he left, three of the escapees were on the beach with him. He offered to
take one as that is all his boat could handle. “With typical American spirit,
all three of them refused…‘We’ve stuck together through so much that we’ll
stick together until the end.’”}
We remained relatively safe
from the Japs. However, the jungle was an inherently dangerous place. Being on
the run from people intent upon killing you, definitely heightens your senses.
Walking on a jungle path, I noticed a branch waving on the trail ahead of me.
My sixth sense said something was wrong as there was no wind. A closer look
revealed a Cobra snake in front of me. My shotgun ended his dance.
Suffering from a severe
attack of malaria, I lay sick, flat on my back. Schoolmaster Edwards took good
care of us, giving me quinine to quell the malaria, plus ample food and drink.
We acquired rifles and a BAR (Browning Automatic Rifle) from weapons hidden by
the local constabulary. After three weeks, he suggested we head south to meet
up with some Moros who could help us get home.
We slipped out past Brooke’s
Point at dusk, and again, headed south. Now about 70 miles south of Brooks
Point, on the southern edge of San Antonio Bay, we entered a small river,
sailing upstream for about a mile. The “jungle telegraph” had alerted them to
our coming and we were introduced to Datu Jo Kiple, the head Moro for the area.
Datu was a Muslim who hated the Japanese. His huge home, a mile upstream on the
Tarusan River, housed his twenty seven wives. He was intent on becoming the
Sultan of Jolo Island when the war ended.
The Moslems, Moros, in
reality pirates, hated the Japanese with a vengeance. On the third day, a
lookout came running into the camp screaming, “a banca with two men aboard was
coming up the river!”
Aboard was a Jap Major and a
local Mestizo collaborator. We killed
the Jap, tossing his body in the river for the crocodiles. In the pocket of the
captured collaborator we found a map showing the location of Datu’s hideout.
Unfortunately, the Jap’s body wasn’t tasty enough for the crocodiles and it
drifted into a fish trap downstream. The Japs, intent upon our capture, placed
a large price on the Datu’s and our heads.
At sundown, the Datu
returned, beckoned for us and announced he was giving us two of his best men,
Hamja and Lahoud, with instructions to get us to safety. Datu Jo Kipli spoke
excellent English. His sense of humor, flashing grin, and sincerity impressed
us all. “You,” he said pointing to me, “are the youngest…and you have the
longest intestines.” It struck me as the funniest description I’d ever heard.
Hamja and Lahoud, stood
before us, teeth filed flat and blackened with beetle nut juice. I’m sure they
thought our white teeth were ugly. Armed with guns and knives, they were told
simply, “get them through safely or don’t come back.” That night, a launch came
to the river, its searchlight seeking the Major’s boat. At dark, we took the
banca, paddled downstream and slipped past the Jap launch, raised the sail and
headed north, back to Brook’s Point.

Three men at Brooks Point
October 1942: At Brook’s Point, runners were sent to round up the constabulary that had not surrendered. With the 2 Moros, 15 constabulary and four of us (2 were sick at Edward’s house). The collaborator told us that 30 Japs were at the school house, across an open field from the lighthouse. We decided to attack the Japs at an open area, 50 yards wide by 100 yards long, that lay between the school and the lighthouse. The schoolhouse had two guard huts, three feet by four feet, a sloped Atap roof with partial side cover, completely open on one side. Inside each hut, safely ensconced from the rain, sat a guard. One shed was on the north side of the school, the other on the south.
Our men were brought
together at 4:00 a.m., the attack being planned for dawn. The second Jap launch,
with a machine gun on the bow, had returned at midnight. Sid Wright, carrying
the BAR, was assigned the task of taking out their machine gun. Hamja and I
were to take out the guards.
Just before first light,
Hamja and I snuck up behind the huts. I could see the guard’s feet below his
seat. I tossed a coconut shell off to his right front, saw his feet move to the
right, rushed around the left side, reached in and slit his throat. Hamja
obviously had similar success.
The plan was to wait, my
signal to attack being the sound of a Bob White whistle. As dawn broke, the
Japs filed out of the school, stacked their rifles and started to form ranks.
(Probably for mandatory morning exercises) I whistled the signal and we
attacked. One group of six or seven Japs fled toward the lighthouse. We could
not chase them over the open ground. They grabbing a launch, they fled for
their lives to Puerto Princesa. The second launch we destroyed by riddling its
engine with bullets. It was a very successful night—we had killed the
collaborator and over 20 Jap soldiers.
At Puerto Princesa, the Japs
who escaped bragged how they had killed all of us in a battle. The remaining
POWS, discounting the Jap braggadocio, knew at last that we had successfully
escaped. Knowing the Japs would not return, we decided to stay at Brooke’s
Point another two or three weeks. Against my advice, Henderson and Wright went
off to a nearby village. During the night, a collaborator killed Henderson and
Wright shot the collaborator. When Wright returned, I chewed his butt, but
Henderson was dead. Kelland had
remained at Edward’s house.

Balabac Island Palawan –
Kudat Island Borneo
September 1942:
The four of us, Wright,
Davis, Hodges, and myself decided to leave for Balabac, >9< an
island 100 miles south of Brooke’s Point. Kelland remained behind with malaria.
Joining us were Hamja and Lahoud, my Moro “Guardians.”
I had contacted Malaria real bad, lost all my hair including my eyebrows. I had Beriberi real bad, my feet wouldn’t come down, I could only get about with help of canes. If I’d had to run from the Japs I’d have been dead. I’d bury my feet in the sand, then swim. They’d catch fish and cook them, and slowly, with better nutrition I was able to walk again.
There we remained for a few
weeks before I sent Hamja south across the Balabac Straits to Kudat, >10<
the northern most point of Borneo. We urgently needed supplies, especially
quinine. A Chinese merchant gave us money but did not want a receipt.
In a square stern 30 foot boat with a rectangular
sail, Hamja and his four Moro volunteer crew sailed south to Kudat on the
northern tip of Boreneo. A few days
later, he returned bearing the precious quinine; iron, sulfadiazine, food, Chinese Gin (orange
colored and very potent), whisky and 24 sticks of dynamite with fuses and
detonators! With the dynamite came the
news that there were 30 Japs in Kudat, guarding two large oil storage tanks.
I decided we should attack
the tanks. In mid October, the four of us and the 2 Moros, sailed across the
open sea to Kudat, arriving before dawn a few days later. Pulling into a swamp,
we covered the boat and waited until nightfall.
Two tanks, 30 feet in
diameter, stood 20 feet high, were filled with fuel. Hamja and I killed the
sentries, slashing their throats before they could give an alarm. Dragging the
bodies to the tanks, we lay them aside as we prepared the dynamite and fuses.
When all was set, we weighted the dynamite down with the bodies, lit the fuses
and ran for the boat. The tanks exploded with a roar as we slipped out of the
harbor. The Japs, believing aircraft had bombed the tanks, flashed searchlights
across the sky, desperately searching for the planes. We sailed back to
Balabac, delighted with our success.
We remained on Balabac for
about a months, often hearing submarines passing in the night. We were
reluctant to make contact as we were not sure they were American. In early
1943, Kelland came down from Brooke’s Point to meet us, bringing with him an
Army Captain, Harris, and his launch.

Via the “Jungle Telegraph,” we heard of an American outpost with a radio on the island of Tawi-Tawi that was in contact with MacArthur in Australia. In August, 1943, our small band of six sailed southeast, using dead reckoning with only the compass and small map for guidance. The alarm clock served as a perfect timer for tacking into the wind. Setting the alarm, we would sail for a fixed time, the alarm would sound, and we tacked back an equal time the other direction.
We stopped at a Moro fishing
village on Cagayan Island. >11< Landing at night, local Moros
informed us there were seven Japs in a small house on stilts. The Moros went
in, knives slashing, while we fired at anyone leaving. None survived. Hamja was
credited with at least three of the dead.
We moved on south-east to the Turtle Islands >12<
and collected lots of turtle eggs for food. These are shallow islands, some are
even underwater at high tide, which are frequented by hundreds of turtles. We planned to never run out of food. We had
stuffed the ballast with coconuts, giving us a good supplement to rain water.
On small scattered islands, Hamja and Lahoud would probe the sands, pulling up
hundreds of turtle eggs, We used a five gallon can for boiling the eggs. I was
surprised to find the white part never hardened... but they tasted just fine.
Fish were equally plentiful.

TawiTawi Island
On the morning of 10 August,
1943 — after 10 days in the open sea and exactly one year after our escape, we
spotted Bongao Mountain, rising above the island of Tawi-Tawi. >13<
A mere spec in the ocean Tawi-Tawi, was only 9 by 20 miles. My rudimentary
seamanship was sufficient... and lucky.
On Tawi-Tawi, we met Captain
Hamner, 7 Australians and an American officer, Lt. Cane, a.k.a., “Sugar Cane.”
Captain Hamner was in touch with MacArthur’s headquarters in Australia via
radio. We took turns riding a bicycle that drove the generator. Messages had
been received that the Australians and the four of us were to go to Mindanao. We faced another long voyage across open
seas. By this time, one of the Aussies,
Rex Butler, had been killed by a local Moro.
We released our faithful Moros, Himja and Latoud, to return to their
home on Palawan. Around 2 Nov 1943 the
Japs landed about 150 soldiers on the island.
Harris had also escaped from
either Bataan or Corregidor. Davis and Hodges decided it was time to move on
and sail for Australia. Taking a well stocked boat, they departed, disappearing
and never to be heard of again.
Just two of our band of
escapees remained, Wright and myself, and we plus 7 Australians set sail for
Mindanao.

Siocan Bay, Zamboanga,
Mindanao
The first boat leaked so badly, we had to return. Wright, myself, and the Aussies loaded another boat and headed northeast, past Jolo Island, skirting along the western tip of Zamboanga Province toward Dipolog. For seven days, the seas were calm and we rowed continuously, each taking turns at the tiller. Aussie Major Steele, deciding rowing was beneath his station as an officer, refused to row. A pistol to his head, a warning “Row or swim,” changed his mind.
In the middle of the night,
I was manning the tiller and fell dead asleep. A sudden lurch from a wave
startled me alert. We were smack in the middle of a blacked out Jap convoy,
three ships in front of us and two behind. No native boats, anywhere in the
Philippines, were allowed out at night. The high pucker factor eased as the
convoy slipped by, steaming out of sight.
Our first landfall was near
the town of Siocon >14 <on the western coast of Zamboanga
peninsula. A fresh water stream was a welcomed relief as we washed away the
dried sweat, dirt, and salt of the voyage. I got back into the boat just before
a crocodile attacked a local horse. We shot the crocodile but remained out of
the water.

Dipolog Mindanao
Back on the boat, we
continued to row, arriving at Dipolog >15< where a Filipino Major
greeted us. The “Jungle Telegraph” worked perfectly. The town had electricity
and the major maintained a radio. A native Corpsman served as his assistant. We
received orders to report to Colonel Bowler.
In his book Escape From Hell, The Sandakan Story, Walter Wallace gives a
detailed narrative of this segment of the escape. The Major advised us to go over the mountain to Panquil Bay.
Joined by the Major, his wife, and his children, we set out over Mount
Malindang, a 2500 foot climb through a steaming, tangled jungle. Five days
later, skin raw from mosquitoes and leeches, we arrived at Misanis on the
northern shore of Panquil Bay. >16<
January 1944:
In the small village, runners came to say the
Japs were coming. The wind was howling but we had to flee. We climbed aboard a
70 foot boat with two mast, the outriggers being two foot diameter logs with
boards covering the gap. The skipper refused, but the four of us, Sid Wright,
the Aussies Walter Wallace and Jock McClone and myself, made him set sail.
Shortly after weighing anchor in the morning, the
wind flipped this huge boat over on its back. Native boats came out to rescue
us, taking us to a village on the south shore. Upon landing, we learned a Jap
patrol was headed our way so we fled northward. Fortunately, we had tied our
weapons down but we had lost most of our much needed supplies.
Colonel Furtig, head of the guerillas on Mindanao, had placed Colonel Bowler in charge of this area. We set out to find Bowler. We encountered a few stray Jap soldiers and managed to kill them. Unfortunately, after we passed through Kolambugon, we lost Charlie Wagner, who had gone ahead of us, killed by a Jap patrol near Iligan City.

North East Mindanao
With the aid of Zapata, a local Mestizo, we took a small motor launch across the northern coast of Mindanao, arriving at the northeast corner port of Surigao providence. We relayed our story of escape and evasion. All the guerillas were men who decided never to surrender. None had been POWs. Sid Wright and two Aussie, Rex Blow and Miles Gillon, decided to join the guerillas, Sid receiving a field commission from Furtig.

USS Narwahal
A few nights later, DeVries,
Rook, Benny Lacoto, and I were taken out to the submarine, the USS Narwhal. I was taken below and fed my first real American food in 2 years,
showered and settled in for a voyage home. Our first stop would be Tawi-Tawi
where we picked up a Bill Swift, another marine who had escaped from Palawan.
{Corp William Dewey Swift, USMC, escaped on 2 Feb 1943, along with MM1c Roy
Sherman Pryor, USN, Pvt. Richard Charles Hanson, USA, and Pfc Don Thomson
Schloat, USA. Hanson and Schloat were captured and sent to Manila for trial.
Fate unknown. Pryor, according to Swift, was killed after the escape.} Captain Hammer and Lt. Cane came out with us
on the Narwhal.
As we were off loading
ammunition, radar spotted 4 Jap Destroyers and 2 Cruisers bearing down on us.
To the blaring ah-ooga of a horn, hatches were sealed and a crash dive
commenced. One Filipino worker was trapped below and was now part of the crew.
Settling on the bottom, the crew waited in silence. The depth charges started
to rain down. Over 200 depth charges blew up around us, blowing fuses, lights
and chips of paint falling like snow.
I began to think I had made
a big mistake! One charge, failing to explode, hit the deck and rolled off onto
the ocean floor. After what seemed like hours, sonar declared the Jap ships
were gone. On the two week voyage to Darwin, we sank two freighters with torpedoes
and, with the two deck guns, put another Jap freighter on the bottom.
As we approached Darwin, the
skipper, Captain Latta, said, “I heard you’re going to put in for sub duty.”
“Sir!” I said, “Either
you’re crazy or someone is lying to you!”
Arriving in Australia, I was
placed in a hospital under the care of wonderful nurse. The first one I saw had
a nose like a banana... until I realized it was rather small and cute, unlike
the flat noses of natives, I had grown so accustomed to seeing every day.
Asked if I wanted anything, I said, “Yes! A cold
beer!”
She smiled, left and
returned in a few moments with a tall bottle of cold Australian beer. “Here you
go Yank” I was one happy man as I quaffed that brew.
From Darwin, I was flown to
Brisbane aboard a C-47, the military version of the venerable DC-3. We stopped
at a small station along the way, refueling bodies and the plane. It was not my
favorite meal, mutton and curry but I swilled down the tea with milk. That
evening, we arrived in Brisbane and put up at Mobile Hospital #9. Having spent
almost two years fleeing the Japs, I could not sleep well on the bunk. It was
too soft. I rolled to the deck (floor) and drifted off to sleep. We had a
briefing every morning and afternoon and were free to go wherever we wanted.
Swift and I were given some
Aussie currency and started to explore the area. Behind the hospital, we found
a few horse to rent and headed away from the hospital. As luck would have it, a
found a most delightful pub with a picnic table in back. Unbeknownst to us,
orders had been issued for us to leave for the states and the military police,
MPs and SPs, were searching the countryside. They found us, the MPS taking the
horses while the Navy boys took us by Jeep back to the hospital.
From Brisbane to Pearl
Harbor, we traveled in the luxurious comfort of the Pan Am China Clipper, a
Boeing B-314 Flying Boat, complete with beds for sleeping. Landing at Palmyra,
south of Pearl, I noticed a young fellow up on the wing doing some maintenance.
I turned to my friend and said, “That looks like my brother!” There was no time
to investigate as we were ready to taxi and in moments, were airborne. When I
finally did get home, I learned it was
him!
Arriving in late afternoon
at Pearl, we were hustled off and segregated in a gymnasium. The next morning,
we departed aboard a 4 engine Mars for Alameda. As we boarded in front of a
number of high ranking officers, we were told, “Talk to no one. Say nothing.”
An officer, somewhat put out by our treatment,
asked, “What’s your rank?”
“Sir. I can’t tell you.”
He was told to shut up, “We
are not to talk to anyone.”
With a one day layover in
San Francisco, we proceeded direct to Washington, DC and reported into the Navy
Department. At the Federal Building in San Francisco, I saw a Navy women for
the first time. Told they were “Waves,” I assumed they were simply employees,
working for the Navy and that they were given some sort of uniform. When told,
I thought, “I must have seemed stupid!” Given $500 spending money, Swift and I
went AWOL for three days. When we returned, we were taken to Admiral Watson,
who asked where we were and why we came back. We answered simply, “We were
celebrating and we came back when we ran out of money.”
Although we were treated in
many ways as heroes, never once was consideration given for an award of medals.
Officers who had escaped after we did, not facing a fraction of the dangers we
endured, nor attack and kill Japanese, were awarded Silver Stars, Navy Crosses
and the Medal of Honor.
Of the 25,000 prisoners of
the Japanese, only 24 managed to ever escape.
After debriefing, we were
given money and told to fly back home to California. Having flown enough... and
thinking my luck may not continue, I asked, “If it’s alright with you, I rather
take a train. It’s a bit safer.”
I finally went home by
train.
+ + + + + ++ + ++ +
On the sub were Rook, DeVries and Bernie Lacotta -
They were on the PT Boats that evacuated MacArthur from Corregidor. Each of
these men were given the Silver Star
***O***
Original letter from Coxswain Bruce
Elliott, US Navy, September 6, 1942
The letter was typed on an old, manual typewriter at the home of
Mr. Edwards, a schoolmaster living near Brooke's Point on Palawan Island. Letter was mentioned in The War Journal of
Major Damon "Rocky" Gause
September 6, 1942
Palawan
P.I.
Dearest Mother, Dad, Mary, Bernice,
Richard, Ray, George, and Uncle Ray.
I am free once again. I was
captured on Corregidor on May 7, escaed [sic] on August 10. I stand no chance
of being captured again as I am in the mountains and being guarded by the
natives. I saw Mrs. Loving around the last of May. We were marched down the
street and she was standing in the window, she never saw me though because
there was [deleted] of us. I am Coxswain now which is a third class petty
officer. I was rated through Meritorious conduct in action. I was not injured
in any way. I am having the time of my life here in the mountains. riding [sic]
buffalo the people I am with are americans [sic] and are treating me swell.
I sure will be glad when I
can get home again. I have 10,000 dollars worth of insurance so I don't think
you will get to spend it now though I was very doubtful at times. Mother what
ever you do don't let Ray get into this mess because it is no game here either
live or die there is no halfway to it. I go hunting for wild hogs at night and
there is lots of them here also water buffalo. I guess I might as well close as
I can't think of any more to say except to tell Dad happy birthday and a Merry
Christmas to all of you also tell Uncle E. and Aunt E. Hello. Tell Walter and
Alex hello to if they aren't out here somewhere fighting. I will be home for my
birthday anyway I hope.
Lots
of love,
/s/
Bruce
P.S.
I went to church here this morning.
Epilogue
Post story visit with Bruce:
Bruce was given a POW medal, but feels those who
escaped have not been properly treated.
We felt it was our duty to try to escape if we could. Of approximately 24,000 taken POW in the Philippines, but only about 24 escaped and survived to get back.
I’ve been asked, “when did you surrender?” I told
them, “I never did surrender, Wainwright surrendered. I was taken prisoner.”
There
have been attempts to improve the government’s treatment of escapees and the
AGOM, but it didn’t even get out of committee when presented in ‘57. We had
been officially surrendered, thus we didn’t officially exist.
Those that got back to Australia, claiming they were
the first to escape when they were not – I removed their names. Their dead now,
nothings gained by naming names....
In 1946 Bruce was sent to Deep Sea Diving School and
made Chief Boat-swains Mate, back dated, for purposes of seniority, to Feb
1944. Bruce stayed in the Navy and
retired in Oct 1959.
General Electric
After retirement Bruce went to Long Beach City College and
obtained a AA degree in mechanical engineering. After graduation went to work for General Electric in their
mechanical-nuclear division assigned to the installation and service
engineering for land and sea based power plants.
AGOM Association
Bruce made contact with fellow AGOM personnel and became a staunch
supporter and leader, serving as president, sustaining contacts and arranging
meetings – his family being very supportive of his efforts.

Tribute to the Filipino People
I want to thank the Filipino people for the kindness extended to
me – I would not have survived had it not been for their selfless, generous,
support in my time of need – I owe them my life.

Japanese Massacre 168 American POW’s at
Puerto Princessa, Palawan
Just as the Americans arrived at Puerto Princessa in
1944, the Japanese had the POW’s dig a trench, filled it with gasoline, set it
afire and shoved 168 the POWs into it. Some managed to grab a Japs and take
them with them. Joe Little, a cook,
managed to survive by jumping off a cliff. He broke his leg and arm but was
later able to attract a navy ship who came and got him. I saw him in Washington
DC after the war. To
cover up this crime, the Japanese murdered all the civilians in the area.
List of the those Massacred
This list is the culmination to date of exhaustive
research done with documents from the National
Archives.
It appears that a final resolution of all victims was never made. The survivors
of the massacre provided invaluable information to the fullest extent possible.
It is known that Japanese captors murdered 139 prisoners of war on Dec. 14,
1944 in the city of Puerta Princessa on the island of Palawan.
The first list is the name, rank (where possible),
branch of service, and hometown (where possible) of 133 victims. The
documentary evidence for these men is overwhelming. The second list of eight
men are those where the evidence is contradictory. As late as 1952, attempts
were being made to account for all the victims.
NAME RANK BRANCH HOMETOWN
ADAMS, Jewett Franklin T/Sgt USMC Canton, Georgia
ADKINS, Robert Arthur Corp USMC Enterprise, Oregon
ANDERSON, Robert Sterling Pvt Army Harper, Washington
ARAUJO, Henry H. Sgt Army Denver, Colorado
ARISPE, Heraclio Pfc Army Corpus Christi,
Texas
BAILEY, Homer R. Pfc Army Ardmore, Oklahoma
BANCROFT, Everett Richard Pfc Army Canon City, Colorado
BARNES, Carl Ellis WT 2c Navy Bakersfield, California
BARNES, Darrell Leroy AOM 3c Navy Bayonne, New Jersey
BARTLE, Charles Warren Sgt Army Coffeyville, Kansas
BEASON, Benjamin Franklin T/Sgt Army Canyon, Texas
BLACKBURN, Wilbur Burdett TM 2c Navy Wichita, Kansas
BOUCHEY, Mason J. Pvt Army Saginaw, Michigan
BROWN, William Theodore Pfc Army Antioch, California
BRUNI, Fred Tobias Capt (CO) Army Janesville,
Wisconsin
BUCHANAN, Vernon Edward MM 3c Navy Turner, Kansas
BURNETT, Douglas Corp Army LeGrande, Oregon
CALDWELL, Sammy Lee Pfc USMC San Angelo, Texas
CARTER, Casey Pvt Army Paris, Texas
CHILDERS, Roy R. Pvt Army New Berlin, Illinois
CHOATE, James Louis Pvt Army Madisonville, Kentucky
COOK, Harry Aerog 1c Navy Detroit,
Michigan
CRANDELL, Earl Jesse Pvt Army Scipio, Oklahoma
CRAVENS, William Thomas Pvt Army Port Royal, Kentucky
CULLINS, Franklin Ashley Pvt Army Black Oak, Arkansas
CZAJKOWSKI, John Pfc Army Nichols, Wisconsin
DIAZ, John F. Pfc Army Osage, Iowa
DUTTON, Glen Albert Pfc Army Reno, Nevada
ELIX, Clayton Emmett Pfc Army Pueblo, Colorado
EVANS, Erving August Corp Army Huron, South Dakota
EYRE, George Robert Pfc Army Marion, Ohio
FLETCHER, Houston Everett Pfc Army Oklahoma City, Oklahoma
FRYAR, William Ferson Pfc USMC Apollo, Pennsylvania
GEE , Jessie Roy Corp Army Yuba
City, California
GIUFFREDA, Mike Paul Pvt Army San Jose, California
GILLESPIE, Bill Edmond S 1c Navy Dallas, Texas
GLACKEN, Joseph Charles Jr. Pfc USMC St. Louis, Missouri
GLOVER, Sammy Pfc Army Daisetta, Texas
GOODYKOONTZ, Richard Eugene Pvt Army Marion, Indiana
GRAHNERT, James Dewey Corp USMC Vancouver, Washington or Rapid City, So. Dakota
HALE, Waldo Stedem S 1c Navy Saybrook, Illinois
HAMMOCK, William Lester Jr. Sgt USMC Boyle, Mississippi
HAMRIC, Dane Hampton Corp Army Widen. West Virginia
HANSEN, Kenneth Russell Pfc USMC Morro Bay, California
HARBIN, Lenton Roger S/Sgt Army West Palm Beach, Florida
HARRIS, John Solomon TM 2c Navy Monticello, Georgia
HAWKINS, Douglas Forrest Pvt Army Coeburn, Virginia
HENDERSON, Clifford Marlin Pfc USMC Levi, West Virginia
HENDERSON, Joseph Patrick Pvt Army Los Angeles, California
HICKS, Roy Joseph S/Sgt Army Crestview, Florida
HINCKLE, Miner Columbus Pvt Army Ada, Oklahoma
HUBBARD, Hugh Boyd Pvt Army Yarnell, Arizona
HUBBARD, Robert Lee(brothers Corp Army Yarnell, Arizona
HUGHES, John F. Jr. P1Sgt USMC Waynesboro, Virginia
HUSTON, Tom Virgil Pvt Army Modesto, California
HUTCHINSON, Fred Wallace Pfc Army Los Angeles, California
JACOBSON, Charles Donald Pfc Army Denver, Colorado
JOHNSON, Aubrey Peyton Pfc USMC Winnsboro, Louisiana
JOYNER, Earl Esell Pfc USMC Goshen Springs, Mississippi
KAZLAUSKAS, Joseph Richard Pvt Army Lowell, Massachusetts
KERNES, Richard Wilfred Pfc USMC Woodward, Iowa
KING, Harold Wayne Pvt Army Great Bend, Kansas
KNIGHT, Henry Carlisle Lt. Comm Navy Portland, Oregon (?)
KOERNER, Richard Aloysis S/Sgt Army Ellis, Kansas
KOZUCH, Stephen Thaddeus Pfc USMC Chicago, Illinois
LAMOUNTAIN, Arthur Lawrence S1c Navy Mineral Falls. Massachusetts
LAMPSHIRE, Leo Nick Sgt Army Lansdown, Pennsylvania
LEWIS, Kenneth Leaman Pfc Army Taunton, Massachusetts
LINDSEY, Kenneth Clyde Pfc USMC Gillette, Wyoming
LINDSAY, Forest Edison Pfc Army Vale, North Carolina
LYONS, John Aloysis Pvt Army Staples, Minnesota
MCANANY, Richard Emmett Tec 4 Army Conemaugh, Pennsylvania
MCELVEEN, William Muton Pvt Army New Orleans, Louisiana
MCNALLY, Theodore CMM(AA) Navy Kansas City, Missouri
MANGO, Carl Louis 1st Lt. (MD) Army Erie,
Pennsylvania
MANZI, George Vincente S/Sgt Army Bridgeport, Connecticut
MARTYN, Donald Joseph Pfc USMC New York, New York
MASCARENAS, Jose E. T. Pvt Army Penasco, Taos, New Mexico
MILLION, Joe Baxter S/Sgt Army Harrodsburg, Kentucky
MOFFATT, Fred Vincent Pvt Army Moline,
Illinois
MOORE, Roger Garland Sgt Army Monroe, Louisiana
MORRIS, E. C. Pfc USMC Jacksboro,
Texas
MORRIS, Orland Otis Corp USMC Boise, Idaho
NOEL, Harry Pvt Army Chicago,
Illinois
NOVAK, Ernest Julian Pvt Army Watsonville, California
OTERO, Trinidad Fidel Pvt Army Wilard, New Mexico
PITTS, James A. Pfc Army Winter Garden,
Florida
PRICE, Dillard Pfc USMC Magnolia,
Arkansas
RANKIN, Homer Franklin Corp Army Freeport, Kansas
RAY , Daniel Woodrow Pfc USMC Travis
County, Texas
RECTOR, Vernon William Pfc Army Phoenix, Arizona
RIGAS, Peter Tom Pfc USMC Chicago,
Illinois (born in Greece)
RHOADES, Arthur Wayne Pvt Army Fort Wayne, Indiana
ROE , James Howard S1c Navy Strand,
Oklahoma
RUDD, James Rollie Pvt Army Cutuno, Kentucky
SAIZ, Santiago Sannedra Pvt Army Peralta, New Mexico
SANCHEZ, John Pfc Army Kansas City,
Missouri
SCALLY, Henry Fredrick 1/Sgt Army Silver City, New Mexico
SCHUBERT, Charles Augustus T/Sgt Army Albuquerque, New Mexico
SCHULTZ, Edward Joseph Corp USMC Brighton, Wisconsin
SEAGRAVES, Raymond Lewis Pfc USMC Little Elm. Texas
SIERRA, Gabriel Jr. Pvt Army Randsburg, California
SIMPSON, Jesse Herschel Pfc USMC Dunning, Nebraska
SIRFUS, Charlie Pfc Army Des Moines, Iowa
SKAGGS, Owen Neil Pfc USMC Holdenville, Oklahoma
SKIDMORE, George McClelland Pfc USMC Pennington Gap, Virginia
SMITH, Charles Carlyle SM 2c Navy Guntersville, Alabama
SMITH, Julio Forest MM 2c Navy Indianapolis, Indiana
SMITH, Kenneth Otto Pfc Army Hoisington, Kansas
SPINDLER, Carrol Frank Sgt Army Edwardsville, Illinois
STANLEY, Dervert Eugene Pvt Army Dallas, Texas
STANLEY, John Marvin Pvt Army Lakeview, Texas
STEVENSON, Robert Louis Pvt Army Muskegon, Michigan
STIDHAM, James Houston Sgt Army Hardshell, Kentucky
STREET, Charles Hiram Corp Army Santa Cruz, California
STUTTS, Harding Elwood Pfc Army Pinetta, Florida
SWEANY, Leslie Irwin Pfc Army Hamilton, Missouri
SWINNEY, Homer Everett Pfc Army Hawk Point, Missouri
TEEL, Glen Eugene Pfc Army Columbus Junction, Iowa
THOMAS, Delbert Raymond Pfc Army Wellington, Kansas
TURNER, Glenn C. WO/JG Navy San Antonio,
Texas
UBALLE, Joseph John S/Sgt Army Boone, Iowa
VITATOE, Ted Edgar Pvt Army Rockwood, Tennessee
WADDELL, George McClelland Pfc USMC Versailles, Missouri
WALKER, Carl M. S/Sgt Army Elizabeth City, North
Carolina
WALKER, George Murray Corp USMC Columbia, South Carolina
WARREN, John Otis Pfc USMC Dekalb, Mississippi
WHITECOTTON, Horace Pvt Army Mesa, Arizona
WILLIAMS, John Grant Pfc USMC Eldorado, Kansas
WILLIAMS, Maurice Scott Jr. Sgt USMC Omaha, Nebraska
****O****
This list of eight men is those whose documentary evidence is
in some degree of doubt. Anyone who can lend further information about any of
these men, please contact Lorna Nielsen Murray at 801-280-6037 or 4047 W. 9580
So. E-mail:
murrayfam@utah-inter.net So. Jordan
UT 84095
ARNOLDY, Arthur Anton Corp USMC Tipton, Kansas
This man’s serial number
belonged to BAKER, Herbert. Baker’s next of kin notified.
BAKER, Herbert Army
No death certificate was
issued to my knowledge but his name
does appear on the headstone of the mass grave in St. Louis MO.
BAKER, John L. Army
A death certificate was
found with the others, but a list from 1952 states that he was evacuated to the
U. S. 12 Sept. 1945, then killed in an auto accident 3 Dec. 1945.
MULLINS, Levi D, Jr. Army
This man appears on many
lists but a letter written in 1948 states that he was returned to military
control.
RAY or REA, Harry Francis Army
Same as Mullins
SHALLEY (SEALLEY?), Charles
Earl Army
This man appears on every
list but there is no death certificate and his name is not on the headstone.
(Many names are not on the headstone because some of the families requested
remains to be interred in family burial plots.)
SNYDER, Cecil J. Army
I have not found a death
certificate but his name is on the headstone and some of the lists.
SNYDER, Robert Q. Army
Same as Mullins
WILLIAMS, Bill USMC
There is some evidence that
this is a nickname for one of the other Williams that is on the first list.