FP-POW-AY

 

        Al Young  after return to active service       Al and Maxine Young

            This is a personal recollection of the 28th Bombardment Squadron, 19th Bombardment Group, Clark Field, Philippine Islands, 1939 - 1945.  In particular the personnel left in the Philippines when the 19th Bombardment Group was forced to abandon the defense of the Philippines and regroup in Australia.

 

Clark Field as it was before buildup beginning in 1940, view is looking west, Mt Plnatoba in skyline.

Clark Field 1936-1939

            Upon my arrival at Clark Field in July 1939, the 28th Bombardment Squadron, 4th Composite group, was under the command of Major Guy L. McNeil. Total strength of the squadron was six officers (including our Flight surgeon) and approximately one hundred and fifty enlisted men. We had a total of (11) aircraft, (10) B-10-B's & (1) ZO-19-E  Observation plane.  Normal operations consisted of aerial gunnery training, practice bombing, towing targets over Corregidor for anti-aircraft gunnery training, one or two flights to the southern islands during the year, annual maneuvers, etc.. Records indicate that by Jan 1941 squadron strength had increased to nine officers and 203 enlisted men under the command of Major Lester J. Maitland. In 1940 and early 1941 the 28th Squadron, was in the process of transferring the B-10's to the Philippine Army Air Corp and receiving the B-18-A's as replacement aircraft. At the time Clark Field came under air attack by the Japanese, 8 December 1941, Major William P Fisher was the commanding officer of the 28th Squadron.

            With the exception of our flight surgeon, all of our officers were pilots. Therefore, in 1940, a training program was set up to qualify a few enlisted personnel as bombardiers. I was selected, trained, qualified, and rated a bombardier. Due to the rapidly expanding Army Air Corp in the Philippines, promotions came rather quickly. In June 1941, I was promoted to the grade of Staff Sergeant. In 1941, four rated navigator flying cadets were transferred in to the 28th squadron and in an effort to qualify for other positions, a navigator/bombardier cross-training program was set-up for squadron bombardiers. The intent of this program was to qualify bombardiers as back-up navigators and navigators as bombardiers.

            On occasion the entire squadron would make flights in groups of three, six, and the entire squadron to various parts of the islands – apparently in a show of force. On one such flight, the entire squadron of nine flew out of Clark to the northern—most  landing strip on Luzon – Aparri, Cagayan Province. When we landed, we remained on the ground for about an hour with aircraft parked along one side of the strip then off again returning to Clark.

            During the early months of 1941, orders were issued by the War Department directing that all dependents of officers and enlisted men be returned to the United States. It was further ordered that all enlisted men's tour of duty will be extended to the expiration of individual enlistment’s – then to be returned to the states for discharge and/or re-enlistment. Since my enlistment date was 20 May 1939 for three years with two years in the Philippines and one year in the states, my stay in the Philippines has now been extended to approximately March/April 1942. This would allow me enough time to be in the states for discharge in May. During this same period there was a decided increase of personnel assigned to Clark Field.

            The news was not good – it looked like war was coming to the Pacific area. Three American oil tankers were on their way from the states to the port of Vladivostok (Russia) and this would have them passing through the Japanese sea. Japan being aligned with Germany, an enemy of Russia, they stated that they would not allow these American oil tankers to pass through their waters. US informed Japan, and the world, that they (Japan) must allow these tankers to pass through their waters. Japan let them pass through without incident. At this time, the Japanese Army continued to gain ground in Indo China – US informed Japan to withdraw their troops from Indo China or "else". They refused. It looked like we were about to go head to head with Japan.

Clark Field 1941 after start of upgrade

            There was increased activity on the base – rumors were flying that we would be receiving additional aircraft.  One rainy Saturday afternoon in September, we heard a strange sounding aircraft overhead. I went out on the barracks porch and there were a couple of four engine B-17's circling the field with gear down preparing to land. We had no concrete runways, only sod, and it was the beginning of rainy season and generally, this was our slow down flying season. The first ship touched down from east to west and when about half way through his landing roll he applied his brakes, started a sideways skid cutting deep furrows in the sod. He came to a stop past the end of the landing area on the golf course fairway between holes one and two. Later on I talked to the bombardier and he told me this was the first time he ever landed that he could look out and see where he was landing. We had nine B-17's come in that afternoon, the 14th Bombardment Squadron, 19th Bombardment Group. In early October two other Squadrons came in, the 30th and 93rd Squadrons making up the entire 19th Bombardment Group. Their flight route over from the states was secret but later reports indicated their route to be from the west coast to Hawaii, Midway, Wake, New Guinea (Port Moresby), Australia and up to Clark, Philippines. Shortly after their arrival, the 28th Squadron was transferred into the 19th Group. Shortly after this there were officers and men pulled from the squadrons to making up Headquarters Squadron and the Far Eastern Air Force Command. Upon the arrival of the 19th Bombardment Group and the build up for war, our half day work became an eight hour work day and sometimes including day and night. Relaxation and off duty time became a thing of the past.

            September – December 1941: During this period we continued to prepare for war. There continued to be a great deal of confusion at what was taking place. Clark Field was overcrowded with various types of aircraft, encircled with armored tank and anti-aircraft units, and occasionally an infantry unit would enter and leave the base. Nov 16, 1941 the 28th Bombardment Squadron became part of the 19th Bombardment Group. The base included a couple of pursuit (fighter) squadrons equipped with P-40's and P-35's and a few designated attack type aircraft. A shipment of P-35's (export model) were being shipped to Sweden. This shipment was canceled, probably by the War Department, and this ship was diverted into Manila where these aircraft were off loaded, transported by truck into Nichols Field and a number of them to Clark. They had Swedish markings and the instruments and technical manuals were also in the Swedish language. In addition to this conglomeration of aircraft, ground forces had taken up positions around Clark in a defensive mode including some light tanks. It looked like war was inevitable, only a matter of time.

            One pilot I occasionally flew with was a Captain Jack Caldwell. On one of our southern flights to Cebu and on to Del Monte on the island of Mindanao, Captain Colin Kelly, a pilot out of the 14th squadron and a long time friend of Capt Caldwell, came along as our co-pilot.

                A note about Capt Kelly and his crew.  When we were just a few days into the war, Capt Kelly and his B-17 crew made a good showing against the Japanese forces that landed on the northern tip of the Philippines.  It was first thought they sunk a battleship but this proved to be an error.  His bombardier (Cpl. Levin, I knew him personally) dropped three 500 pound bombs across this heavy cruiser, one in the water and two on the deck of the ship. It was reported that they sunk this ship and Capt Kelly flew his crippled, badly shot up B-17 into the battleship.

This was false.  After they unloaded their bombs, they turned south and headed back to Clark for another load of bombs.  His intent was to land at Clark, take on a full load of bombs and return to the battle in the north.  When he arrived at a point about due east of Clark, he let down through the cloud cover and three Japanese fighters were there waiting for him.  He was hit and wounded, ordered his crew to bail out, he crashed east and north of Clark heading in a northerly direction.  The members of his crew that bailed out were strafed by the Japanese fighters on their way down.  They were close enough to Clark that we were able to see the entire battle from Clark.

            Del Monte was the major air strip on Mindanao and apparently, there were plans to use this base to further disperse the 19th Bombardment Group in event of war. Del Monte was also being used as a stop over between Clark Field and Australia. Del Monte is located about thirty miles from Cagayan on what is now highway three between Cagayan and Malaybalay and was a pineapple plantation owned and operated by the Del Monte Corporation of the United States. Generally, we made yearly southern island flights in and out of Del Monte. This flight was different, there was a tenseness in the air as if plans were being made for something that was being kept as quiet as possible. 

            On the first of December, pay day, a meeting was called for all noncommissioned officers to meet on the parade ground, an area just east of the flight surgeons office. When we were assembled our wing intelligence officer Maj Gibbs came out and got on top of a physical training stand where he could see out over us as he wanted to give us some important information about our present status and what to expect. In so many words, he informed us that "we are already at war with Japan – all except the shooting". He also advised us that "as members of aircraft crews, if we did what we should, we would go out to our ships and dig bomb shelters and if possible, dig shelters big enough to put our aircraft in for that ship may well be our only transportation out of here". He also stated that "as it is pay day, half of you men will be allowed to go off base but the other half will remain on base and continue on alert status" We had been restricted to base and on alert for about four weeks.

            We were also on complete night time black out.  There have been reports of aircraft flights over Clark and Nichols fields in single flights and groups when all known aircraft assigned to the Army and Navy have been accounted for. It was suspected that over flights of the Philippines were being made by the Japanese.

            The following Wednesday night (3 December), the 14th Bombardment Squadron flew out of Clark Field.  They were dispersed south to Del Monte Field on Mindanao. At this time we were aware that a Japanese fleet was in the China Sea heading south but we did not know where this fleet was headed. We found out later they were headed for us, the Philippines.

            December 8, 1941 I was out of bed at the normal time and into the mess hall for breakfast. Someone came in and told us it was on the morning news that Pearl Harbor (Hawaii) had been attacked by the Japanese. All flight crews were immediately alerted and ordered to stand by our ships. My ship was directly across the field from hanger four. My crew was made up of Lt Ted Fisch, pilot, I do not remember the name of the co-pilot but he was also a Lieutenant. Sgt Visellie, engineer, Sgt Acton, radio operator, three gunners and myself, bombardier. When Lt Fisch arrived we taxied out and took off for a landing strip down on the Bataan peninsula. I do not know the name of this strip and had never landed there before. When we landed, a towing vehicle came out from under the trees, hooked on to our tail wheel and towed us back under the trees out of sight. Lt Fisch left us with the aircraft and did not return until late in the morning, some time after 9:30 am. Our orders were to return to Clark Field.

            Upon our arrival back at Clark Field, half of our crew went to lunch the other half remained with the ship – I remained with the ship with the co-pilot in case we had to take off. We were relieved about 11:30 am and were in the mess hall finishing our lunch, when Clark Field was bombed at 12:25 by fifty-four two engine bombers in two groups of twenty-seven each from an altitude of about 23,000 feet. I was seated across the table from Sgt Kristopovitch, our first Sergeant and seated next to me was Sgt Mike Sidas. We could hear this roar of engines and someone outside yelled out – “Here they come". The three of us went out on the porch, down to the west end of the porch and looking up and there they were, I started counting. I made the comment to Mike – “They must be navy." Mike replied – “Navy my ass, they don't have that many ships in the navy". "Lets get the hell out of here". Kristopovitch turned and ran towards his office to sound the alarm and Mike and I ran behind the mess hall where some "V" shaped trenches had been dug for bomb shelters. By the time we were at the shelter, the bombs had been released from the aircraft and were on their way down – you could hear them coming, a swishing sound. The bombers made one pass from northwest to southeast and they did a perfect job. The first bombs started hitting the ground directly behind the officers quarters and continued completely across the field. There were very few craters as they used fragmentation bombs that burst on contact destroying nearly every aircraft we had on base. Not one single anti-aircraft gun opened fire on this group of bombers. I have heard excuses and reasons but have always wondered why? When the bombers completed this one run and turned back north, we were hit with single engine ship-board fighters. Some have estimated them to have hit us with sixty to eighty fighters. What the bombers missed were hit by the fighters. By this time we were able to fight back. A couple of P-40's got off the ground and some of our low altitude 37mm anti-aircraft and thirty and fifty caliber guns opened up. We also had one of our B-17 gunners on the ground, his aircraft was burning but he was fighting back with a brace of twin fifties.

            It is rather ironic that Col Eugene Eubank, our Group Commander, had spent most of the morning in Manila pleading with higher command to allow him to load out and lead his group in an attack against the Japanese on Formosa (Taiwan) and against the fleet moving south in the China Sea - his request was denied. It is my understanding that permission was denied because of political reasons, ie., bases in the Philippines can not be used to attack enemy forces unless the Philippines come under attack first. In other words, it made no difference that Hawaii had been hit – Hawaii is not the Philippines. The Colonel landed his OA-9 just a few minutes before the attack and was walking from his aircraft towards base headquarters when the alarm sounded - his aircraft was completely destroyed – he was able to reach the protection of a "V" type open bomb shelter in the headquarters area.

            Needless to say we knew what was upon us. We lost about the entire bombardment force the first day of the war – on the ground. My ship was dispersed across the field to the north and was hit and burned. All that was left was two wing tips and a tail. In the afternoon we moved our personal belongings out of our barracks and into some gunnery target butts in an open field between Clark Field and the upper post of Fort Stotsenburg. Another personal happening: My sleeping quarters were located on the east end of our barracks, lower floor, next to the day room. My uniforms, all of my shirts and slacks were hung on hangers in my wall locker against the east wall. During the strafing attack, a small caliber bullet or a small piece of shrapnel passed through my wall locker – through my shirts and slacks – not cross ways but through the length of the locker – I had a small hole in front and back of every shirt and through my slacks just below the waist and each leg of the slacks where they doubled over the hanger.

            A couple days later a B-18 was assigned to us and we were loaded out with high explosive general purpose bombs as the Japanese invasion forces were landing invasion troops at Appari and Lingayen. I arrived at the aircraft just before day break with the bomb sight. When we drove up to the ship, Lt Ted Fisch came over and talked to me – the bombs were being off loaded. Lt Fisch said – “Sgt Young, we will not be needing you this morning". "We are going to be flying as high and as fast as this thing can go and Major Gibbs wants your place in the nose – we have to find out what's out there". I ask if he was sure he didn't want me to go along. He said "No, you take it easy and we will see you when we return". They took off and that is the last I saw of them. I heard they were shot down – others said they ran into a mountain – they were listed as missing in action and presumed dead. It is a strange feeling – five days into a war and I has already lost two ships, now the only survivor of my crew.

            It became necessary that a central air raid warning system be established to give adequate warning of incoming enemy aircraft. Since our aircraft had been destroyed, a few of our combat crew members were assigned this duty. Other men were assigned to handle ammunition with anti-aircraft gun crews. The two high points on the base were on top of hanger four and the base theater. We set up a pole for a red flag, siren, and field telephone at both locations and kept two men on these two locations from just before dawn until after sundown. It was not anticipated we would be attacked at night which proved to be correct. From the ninth on through the twenty-third of December, the day we evacuated Clark Field, we continued to be hit each day by small formations of bombers and/or fighter aircraft but the large formation on the eighth of December did sufficiently well that another large group of aircraft in a single raid was not necessary.

            On two occasions I was narrowly missed. One afternoon a flight of seven two engine bombers were trying to knock-out a damaged B-17 parked adjacent to hanger four and we also had a damaged B-17 in hanger four that was being worked on. I just happened to be on top of this hanger when this flight came over from east to west in tight formation at an altitude of about 12,000 feet. We sounded the alarm, raised the red flag, and down the ladder we went to a bomb shelter beside the hanger. There was no doubt that we were on the target. They missed us just a few feet. The edge of the outside crater was just a few feet from the shelter. Another time I was on top of the theater when three fighters came out of the north towards the hanger line – I sounded the alarm and off the theater I went to the top of the porch, half way down. By this time they had dropped their bombs so there was little need for me to be in any hurry. However, the ship on the right wing did a sharp right turn and was coming right toward me with his wing guns winking – when I saw he was firing at me I grabbed the rope for a fast trip on to the ground - severely burning my hands with rope burns. This aircraft flew directly over me as I sat there on the ground in a heap, looking at him and rubbing my burned hands. Sometimes we lose sight of what is important.

            On the 23rd of December 1941, what was left of the 28th Bombardment Squadron evacuated Clark Field and headed south toward the Bataan peninsula, this being the pre-designated area for a last stand to defend the Philippine Islands. The outfit left by bus, the same bus that Sgt Flodman and myself stole from the Philippine Scouts. Sgt Mike Sidas and myself remained overnight and departed Clark early the following morning. Mike was married to a native, had children and lived off base in a small barrio by the name of Sop-um-botto (we called it "Sloppy Bottom"). The following morning as we left Clark, we met members of an Australian Army outfit in Bren Gun Carriers coming in to throw a defensive line in an attempt to defend Clark Field. They informed us the Japanese forces were very close behind us, probably coming on to Clark Field and Fort Stotsenberg.

            Christmas day found us on Marveles Point, on Bataan, directly across from Corregidor Island. There was a single US destroyer out in Manila Bay that came under attack by six Japanese bombers. I selected a low hill that gave me a good vantage point and with my binoculars was able to witness this entire attack. The bombers, in tight formation, would begin their bomb run on the destroyer and as soon as the bombs left the bomb compartment, the destroyer would make his move - one time he would make a hard turn to the right - the bombs would hit the water over and to the left. The next time the destroyer might make a dead stop - the bombs would miss by going over. This continued for at least six runs and/or they were out of bombs - the destroyer was never hit. The destroyer Captain was probably doing the same as I - watching the aircraft - when the bombs left the aircraft - he made his move - right - left - stop - or full ahead.

            Three of us were digging individual foxholes on the beach, when Chaplain Brown came by, stopped and talked with us for a few moments, then went on his way. Shortly thereafter he returned, wished us well and a very merry Christmas, reached in his pocket and pulled out a candy bar – it was a Three Musketeer – he removed the wrapper giving each of us a third of this candy bar with this comment – “I wish each of you a very Merry Christmas". This was the last time we saw him. I do not know if he survived the war.

            Late in the evening of the 27th of December we boarded the SS Mayon, a small civilian type pleasure cruiser that had been used as a passenger/cargo type vessel for use between the major islands of the Philippine group. We had on board the remaining members of the 19th Bombardment Group, members of the 14th, 28th, 30th, and 93rd Squadrons, the largest group being the 28th Squadron. I do not know how many were lost in the first days of the war, how many had already been flown out and/or were wounded and in the hospital. I do know that as we are preparing to leave Bataan, we left behind a few more members of our Squadron – communication personnel – Sgt’s Peterson and Mason, probably others.

            We departed Marvelas Point under cover of darkness heading south arriving the following morning off the coast of Mindoro, the first major island south of Luzon. We dropped anchor between a small island on the left and the large island (Mindoro) on our right. The intent was to hide in this location during the day and after sundown make another overnight run on south. However, early in the afternoon, we were spotted by a single Japanese Navy Patrol bomber, similar to our navy PBY bomber.

            Once we were identified as the enemy, we came under attack. He made his first bomb run at an altitude of about 8,000 feet. We being the type ship we were, we were completely unarmed. Therefore, since there was no antiaircraft fire from our ship, they flew a little lower on each bomb run trying to sink us. They must have had six or eight bombs as they made single passes over us dropping one bomb each pass. They never made a direct hit but the last bomb hit close enough to pop rivets, opening a few panels causing us to start taking water. With this, the ship's captain made a smart move - he ordered us to abandon ship and the engine room put out a lot of steam and black smoke. This action must have convinced the bomber crew they had accomplished what they intended to do – they made another fly over and left.

            Immediately following this attack, I disobeyed a direct order from a superior officer. To maintain proper control over our men, we were divided into platoons and squads with an officer and a noncommissioned officer in charge of each platoon. I had some 2nd Lt as my platoon officer, don't even remember his name, but when the order was given to abandon ship, he ordered our platoon to remove our shoes, tie the shoe laces together, hang our shoes around our neck and jump overboard and swim for shore. I turned to the men with an order, "As you were". I then informed our platoon officer that the beach was a coral beach and coral is deadly on bare feet and suggested we keep our shoes on. He seemed a bit flustered and continued taking his shoes off and again ordered the platoon to do likewise. I turned to the men and informed them that they had heard the order to remove their shoes but as for me, I was keeping my shoes on. I watched our leader jump over the side, feet first, just as his head went out of sight beneath the water there was a clear audible "whop" - he still had his helmet on with the chin strap under his chin - small wonder it didn't snap his neck. Most of the platoon put their shoes back on and we took our turn rowing one of the life boats back and forth to shore. We hardly got our feet wet. Later that afternoon as some of our men were sitting under the palm trees wondering why we had evacuated to the smaller island rather then the large island of Mindoro, our platoon leader came walking by, he swam ashore but the undercurrent was flowing through the channel thus pushing him towards the open sea – his feet were so badly cut by the coral he could hardly walk. He looked something like a drowned rat – he never mentioned that I had countermanded one of his orders.

            When we abandoned ship we made our way to the small island rather than the larger island of Mindoro. Why did we do this – there is no logical answer. I am not sure that anyone gave it a thought at the time. After we reached the beach and started looking around, we found there was no fresh water available, only an abundance of coconut trees and tropical underbrush. If our ship had been sunk, we would have had a difficult time. To stay alive, it would have been necessary for us to cross over this inlet to the larger island, Mindoro. Seems as we pass through life we sometimes make some rather strange decisions.

            Later in the afternoon we again boarded ship and continued our way southward. The following morning we anchored in a small cove for protection. However, there was an enormous amount of life preservers and debris on the water – we learned that the Japanese had sunk the sister ship of the SS Mayon, the SS Panay, in the area where we had anchored. That night we headed out again making a fast run (all night) across the Sulu Sea to the island of Mindanao, the southern-most island in the Philippine Island group. During the night we sighted two surfaced submarines but did not come under attack, or they

            Shortly after we landed, all of our men below the first three grades were issued "Enfield" rifles and it became apparent that we were no longer Air Force (Air Corp), we were being converted to infantry personnel. A few army trucks were brought up and we (the 28th Squadron) were loaded and transported across the island to the town of Malaybaly where we stayed for the night. The following morning we continued on southwest towards Davao City, arriving at Carmen Ferry shortly after dark. A this point, a heavy duty, one-way wooden bridge had been constructed across the Pulangi river and there was no longer a ferry. Our outfit had received orders to defend and hold this bridge against the Japanese forces. We were at a point approximately forty mile from the city of Davao, where the Japanese had already landed and were well entrenched. To establish our bivouac area, we had to use bolo knives to cut and slash our way back into the jungle far enough to be off the main road, the only road that crosses the island from Cagayan on the northwest to Davao City on the southeast.

            At this point I was well qualified as a bombardier, aerial gunner, weapons and tactics associated with this type of warfare with the type aircraft we had at this time. Before the war started, we were required to hold wartime maneuvers each year for a two week period which we did in 1939, 1940, and 1941. To accomplish this, we moved out of our barracks and into eight-man tents set up on the parade ground – our cooks continued to prepare our food and brought it out to us and we ate our meals out of mess kits (Our Filipino bunk boys continued to take care of us by making up our beds and cleaning our tents). However, it being in the tropics, rather than setting up showers and latrines we continued to use the facilities in our barracks.  During this period of maneuvers, we flew a number of tactical type missions such as full load bombing missions with demolition type bombs, aerial gunnery type missions, navigation, coordinated mission with the pursuit planes from other bases, etc.

Now we found ourselves to be  a group of un-trained men being called upon to defend ourselves against a fully trained army. It did give us something to think about. As I look back on our situation, it seems to me that we as non-commissioned officers were looked upon as leaders and my men looked to us to be the ones to bring them through – we looked to each other for support and respected each other as individuals.

            Sgt Freeman and I paired off, it was a learning experience for the both of us. We figured how to set up our tent, trench around the sides to allow rain water to run off, and not under the bottom edge of the tent, hung our small bags up off the ground to protect the contents from insects and water, etc.. As luck would have it, it rained that night, one of those heavy tropical downpours. Some time during the night we were awakened by water coming into our tent, water coming through our tent, it was impossible for either of us to keep dry, much less go outside and bring our bags into the tent, it was about as wet inside the tent as outside. Some time during this period we heard a loud scream – more than one man – it was frightening to all of us. It seems that a some monkeys were in the area and looking for a place to get in out of the rain and they must have found one of our tents. When a couple of these monkeys found their way in on one of our men's tent, they let it out – they had no idea what was coming in on them. I guess we will always wonder who were the most scared, "men or monkey".

            The following morning I received my assignment. Overall plans are to place two machine gun positions on either side of the road to set up a cross-fire pattern to cover the bridge. My assignment was position one, extreme left flank. Place the position as close to the river bank as possible with range of fire covering a slight bend in the river to the left. This will give us two gun positions on the left and two positions on the right of the bridge. Explosive charges (dynamite) have already been placed on a number of the bridge piles if and/or when we are unable to defend our positions against the enemy, this bridge had to be defended or destroyed. We remained in this position until April, 1942. Fortunately, we never had to defend this position. The Japanese remained in Davao and Digos on the east, and Catabato on the west. As it turned out, their plan was to land and occupy all coastal major cities, especially in the southern islands, and when Bataan and Corregidor fell, force the fall of the entire Philippine group.

            The following message is from Headquarters, United States Armed Forces in the Far East, Fort Mills, Philippine Islands - The message reads as follows:

Headquarters, United States Armed Forces   In the Far East, Fort Mills, PI    January 15, 1942

            "Subject: Message from General MacArthur will be read and explained to all troops. Every Commander is charged with personal responsibility for the delivery of this message. Each Headquarters will follow up to insure reception by every company or similar unit.

            "Help is on the way from the United States. Thousands of troops and hundreds of planes are being dispatched. The exact time of arrival of reinforcements is unknown as they will have to fight their way through the Japanese attempts against them. It is imperative that troops hold until reinforcements arrive.

            "No further retreat is possible. We have more troops in Bataan than the Japanese have thrown against us; our supplies are ample; a determined defense will defeat the enemy's attack.

            "It is a question now of courage and determination. Men who run will be destroyed, but men who fight will save themselves and their country.

            "I call upon every soldier in Bataan to fight in his assigned position, resisting every attack. This is the only road to salvation. If we fight we will win, if we retreat we will be destroyed."

(signed) MacArthur

            The situation in the Philippines continued to deteriorate. We were out of everything, food, ammunition, no aircraft, no medical supplies, we had been on native rations for months – whatever we could find in the jungle.

            Native rations consist of the following: rice - sweet potatoes - brown sugar - bamboo sprouts - whatever can be found in the jungle; ie., iguana, snake, monkey (never - not for me - will explain this. One morning a group of monkeys were feeding in the tops of trees close to our gun position when one of our men decided to shoot one and eat him for dinner. The monkey was killed, skinned, wrapped in banana leafs, placed in some hot coals for a period of time, unwrapped and eaten. There was no way I could eat a part of this animal. This monkey looked like a small child that had been burned. I was hungry, but not that hungry). The native rice was full of little white rice worms. When the cooks brought this worm infested rice for us to eat, I well remember looking at the mess kit, as all of us did the same thing, dumping our mess kits in the garbage with this comment: "This food is not fit for pigs, much less expect us to eat it". The following day, we were on a two meal a day ration, early morning and just at dark in the evening, we were again brought the same thing, "worm infested rice and brown sugar". By this time I was really hungry. I, as did the others, sorted, picked, threw out the worms, eat some, picked through as best we could, etc.. The next meal - same thing - we were still proud but we were also hungry. We turned our backs or went off to ourselves and eat - those damn worms were never good to eat but they were filling. I still would not eat a monkey. The brown sugar was so full of ants that when a ladle of sugar hit our mess kit the ants would scatter. They too were good but hard to catch.

            During this period of being on native field rations, two meals or less a day, food was in very short supply and consisted of rice, potatoes, bamboo sprouts, etc., and this food was, and in no way the fault of our cooks or supply individuals, infested with rice worms, rodent droppings, ants, bugs, etc., this was all that was available. We were also in a tropical area (jungle) without adequate medical care exposed to all types of tropical diseases; ie, dengue fever, malaria fever, diarrhea, dysentery, fungus, rash, blisters, insects, etc. We did not even have adequate protection from such insects as mosquitoes, which were plentiful.

            During the latter part of April, 1942, the remainder of our officer personnel, including our medical officer, slipped away during the night by bus, made their way to Del Monte and south.

            About the first of May, 1942, we were ordered to pull back and make our way to an area in central Mindanao known as Alanib. As we pulled back, all bridges along this two lane road that runs the width of the island were blown out with dynamite. Our destination was Alanib, then by trail to a village known as Bosok. When we arrived at Alanib, all of our men, with the exception of the non-commissioned officers, were instructed to exchange their rifles for shovels and all of us were issued field rations. At Alanib we entered the jungle on a jungle trail that would lead us through this mountainous area towards Bosok, about twenty plus kilometers. This village is so deep in the jungle it is not accessible by vehicles. Upon reaching our destination, our assignment was to prepare entrenchments for Filipino troops to guard a back trail, thought to be unknown to the enemy, to prevent Japanese troops from infiltrating central Mindanao and cutting communication lines of all U. S. Armed forces in the Philippines. When we reached within about one kilometer of Bosok, we were ambushed by a large, well armed, Japanese patrol – the infiltration had already begun. We suffered few casualties but being armed with shovels and side arms (NCO's armed with cal 45 pistol), we started our back track over this trail in full retreat. On our way out, we were met by a messenger with a dispatch informing us the Philippines had been surrendered and all American and Philippine troops on the island of Mindanao must be in a designated POW camp in Malabalay no later than sundown, 10 May 1942.  The following is that message in its entirety:

HEADQUARTERS UNITED STATES FORCES IN THE PHILIPPINES

FORT MILLS, P.I.  7 MAY 1942

SUBJECT:        SURRENDER

TO:      MAJOR GENERAL WILLIAM F. SHARP JR. CO

            "TO PUT A STOP TO FURTHER USELESS SACRIFICE OF HUMAN LIFE ON THE FORTIFIED ISLANDS, YESTERDAY I TENDERED TO LIEUT., GENERAL HOMMA, THE COMMANDER IN CHIEF OF THE IMPERIAL JAPANESE FORCES IN THE PHILIPPINES, THE SURRENDER OF THE FOUR HARBOR FORTS OF MANILA BAY.

            "GENERAL HOMMA DECLINED TO ACCEPT MY SURRENDER UNLESS IT INCLUDED THE FORCE UNDER YOUR COMMAND. IT BECAME APPARENT THAT THE GARRISON OF THESE FORTS WOULD BE EVENTUALLY DESTROYED BY AERIAL AND ARTILLERY BOMBARDMENT AND BY INFANTRY SUPPORTED BY TANKS, WHICH HAVE OVERWHELMED CORREGIDOR.

            "AFTER LEAVING GENERAL HOMMA WITH NO AGREEMENT BETWEEN US I DECIDED TO ACCEPT IN THE NAME OF HUMANITY HIS PROPOSAL AND TENDERED AT MIDNIGHT OF 6-7 MAY 1942, TO THE SENIOR JAPANESE OFFICER ON CORREGIDOR THE FORMAL SURRENDER OF ALL AMERICAN AND PHILIPPINE ARMY TROOPS IN THE PHILIPPINES. YOU WILL THEREFORE BE GUIDED ACCORDINGLY, AND WILL REPEAT, WILL SURRENDER ALL TROOPS UNDER YOUR COMMAND BOTH IN THE VISAYAN ISLANDS AND THE MINDANAO TO THE PROPER JAPANESE OFFICER. THIS DECISION ON MY PART, WAS FORCED UPON ME BY MEANS ENTIRELY BEYOND MY CONTROL.

            "COLONEL JESSE T. TRAYWICK JR., BSC, MY ASSISTANT CHIEF OF STAFF G-3 WHO WILL DELIVER THIS TO YOU IS FULLY EMPOWERED TO ACT FOR ME. YOU ARE HEREBY ORDERED BY AS THE SENIOR AMERICAN OFFICER IN THE PHILIPPINES TO SCRUPULOUSLY CARRY OUT THE PROVISIONS OF THIS LETTER AS WELL AS SUCH ADDITIONAL INSTRUCTIONS AS COLONEL TRAYWICK MAY GIVE YOU IN MY NAME.

            "YOU WILL REPEAT THE COMPLETE TEXT OF THIS LETTER AND OF SUCH OTHER INSTRUCTIONS AS COLONEL TRAYWICK MAY GIVE YOU BY RADIO TO GENERAL MACARTHUR. LET ME EMPHASIZE THAT THERE MUST BE ON YOUR PART NO THOUGHT OF DISREGARDING THESE INSTRUCTIONS. FAILURE TO FULLY AND HONESTLY CARRY THEM OUT CAN HAVE ONLY THE MOST DISASTROUS RESULTS.

(signed)    J.M. Wainwright

LT GEN. U.S. ARMY  A TRUE COPY:

(signed)   ROBERT0 D. JOHNSON  Roberto D Johnson

LT COL INF

            As we continued on the trail leading out of the jungle, Sgt's Mike Sidas, Doc Freeman, and myself were trailing along together in complete silence. I know what was going through my mind and am certain these two friends of mine were having similar thoughts. It is unbelievable to even think of what has happened to us in a matter of five months. In the months preceding the 8th of December 1941 we knew there was a good possibility that we would be involved in a war with the Japanese Empire. However, could anyone believe we would make such a bad showing – we were down, yes, flat on our backs. Why have we dropped so far so fast. Five months ago we were highly respected noncommissioned officers in the United States Army Air Corp, members of a combat crew, well qualified in our positions and under the command of some of the greatest men in the Army Air Corp, men that we trusted and they had confidence and trust in us, we felt good about ourselves. Now to-day, we are still noncommissioned officers in the United State Army Air Corp, but this is about as far as it goes – we have been defeated – we have retreated as far south as we are able to go – unable to fight – unable to escape – completely disorganized - without command – and under the direction of our enemy, we are making our way, seemingly and it looks like willingly, to come completely under their command for all of our needs, even life itself. This doesn't make any sense. Are we ashamed – the answer to this is "yes", very ashamed.

            In reality, it was not of our choosing – we have not surrendered, we have been surrendered. We have not given up, we have been given up. We have not abandoned our duty, we have been abandoned. However, this does not excuse or forgive us for what we are in the process of doing – we are about to walk through the gates of a prison camp under the control of the enemy, the Japanese Army and for this there is nothing else but "shame", whatever the reasons. We discussed going into the jungle but would this be wise. We have no food, no weapons and ammunition, no medical supplies, inadequate protective clothing - we have been on native rations for the past few months and already in a weakened condition – and where would we go. If we were near the coast rather than in the center of this island, we would have a much better chance. On the other hand, how long would it be before these islands would be re-taken by the American forces – a few weeks, six months, one year – surely this will be a short war and this nightmare will be over. I tried to talk to Mike and he was crying – slipped back to discuss this with Doc and he too was shedding some tears. I was also shedding some tears – what we were about to do was beyond our comprehension – each of us had already made the decision on what to do – I removed my forty-five from its holster and disassembled the weapon tossing piece at a time into the jungle along the path, then the ammunition, one cartridge at a time. We were following orders, we are on our way to turn ourselves in as ordered. Should we have been ashamed at our decision, yes, we had lost and for this, we were ashamed.

            We passed through the gate into the Malaybalay POW camp in the afternoon of the tenth. During our final period as a military organization on the trail and into POW camp, my outfit, the 28th Bombardment Squadron, 19th Bombardment Group was under the command of our first sergeant, F/Sgt Kristopovich.

Malaybalay POW Camp - 10 May 1942

: I do not know what this camp was originally designed for but I suspect it was used by the Philippine Army. All buildings in the camp were single level, of native construction, temporary type, one larger building near the center for use as a mess hall. Personnel buildings constructed to house twenty men, ten men on a side, two level, with open latrines out back. The only water outlets were in the mess hall building area - there were no bathing facilities. Someone has written, "I was sorry because I had no shoes until I met a man who had no feet" - this is very appropriate at this time. Two of our men had dysentery and diarrhea so bad there times they could not make it out to the latrine before losing control of themselves - they had a very difficult time in keeping themselves clean.

            As members of the 28th Squadron, we had spent the past four months along the Pulangi river and completely out of contact with other members of the 19th Bombardment Group, and all other units in the Mindanao Command. In spite of having to accept the reality of entering a prisoner of war camp, it was good to meet with other survivors of the 19th Group. There were many missing but there were some from all units, 14th, 30th, 93rd and Hq Squadrons. We also had members of the 7th Material Squadron along with members of the 5th Air Base Group, affectingly referred to as the "footlocker 5th". Within hours we were required to fill out a personal data card giving our name, rank, serial number, organization, and duty. Mike and I discussed listing our duty as "bombardier" as there may be some personal dislike for this position – I listed my military position as "truck driver".

            Shortly after the 10th of May 1942, a few of us were called out to serve on a out-of-camp detail to rebuild blown out bridges working side-by-side with a detachment of the Japanese Army Combat Engineers. It seems rather ironic that I was forced to help rebuild the very bridges we blew out on our retreat from the Pulangue river. This small working group, about twelve of us, rationed and billeted with the Japanese Engineers. However, our physical condition being as it was, it was an effort to keep up with them. I did have an individual physical problem that had to be dealt with – since I stand six feet three inches, usually a head taller than the average Japanese, they look upon size with a little man's attitude. They seem to feel it an accomplishment to out-do, out-perform, etc., someone of taller stature – there were times I made them pay the price. I would work with one of them on the other end of a cross cut saw until my chest hurt so bad for breath it seemed impossible to continue, waiting for him to give in. With my extra height, this gives me a greater swing and with a little effort, I could pull him off balance causing him to fall forward then losing his step pulling the saw in his direction. Maybe this was because of my "get even" attitude. Sometimes I would win and sometimes I would lose but it was worth the effort. Our pet phrase for the Japanese Soldier was "Little duck bottomed empire builder" and we used this term frequently in their presence – I never got caught. The food was adequate, but we were again exposed to the jungle environment without adequate care and equipment. This detail lasted for a period of about six weeks. Upon completion, we were returned to camp.

            Bathing was always a problem. On occasion they would open the gate and allow us to go to the river but the best bathing facilities was when a rain cloud would pass over, day or night, we would run out in the rain, passing a bar of soap from one to the other, if someone had a bar of soap, wash and go back in to dry. On occasion our luck would run out – out in the rain covered with soap and the rain would stop.

            It was in this camp I witnessed my first beatings and the execution of two men by firing squad. Two POW's were caught in an attempted escape, forced to dig their own graves, ordered to stand at the end of the grave and executed by a firing squad. This is also the camp I experienced my first forced march and forced labor. We were formed into work details and marched to and from the town of Malaybalay, about ten mile round trip, to carry building materials and supplies to construct shelters within the camp. Again, in our already weakened condition, labor of this type was considered excessive.

            In September, 1942, apparently the Japanese made use of the occupation information card we filled out in May when we entered the camp. We did not know this at the time but we were selected and destined for a slave labor camp in Japan. About 277 of us were selected out of the camp, most from the 19th bombardment and 5th Air Base Groups, transported by truck to Cagayan, placed aboard a freighter, the Ama Maru (identified as a Japanese freighter and not specifically marked as a Prisoner of War vessel) and departed Cagayan with destination Manila. Arrived in Manila in the evening, off loaded and marched through the streets of Manila to Bilibid Prison. This facility was constructed and used by the Spaniards before the Americans occupied the Philippines in the early 1900's and was now being used as a Prisoner of War camp and was already over-crowded with Americans captured on Bataan and Corregidor.

Bilibid Prison POW Camp - Manila - August 1942:

            It will be impossible for me to adequately describe this prison. Being as old as it is, already infested with all types of vermin, fleas, lice, rodents, etc.. We were marched through the gates and crowded in with men that were much worse off than any of us. Some of these men were moving around as if in a daze, completely out of it, some had open sores, jungle rot, unable to take care of themselves, etc., it is unbelievable to think that just a few months ago these men were the best there was, now look at them. Could this be the future for all of us? The only place I could find, as with most of the others, was in an open hallway already crowded with men. We were held in this facility for about two weeks awaiting transportation.

"Hell Ship" - "Totori Maru" - 26 September to 11 November 1942:

            In the afternoon of 26 Sep 1942, about 1900 American POW's were assembled out of Bilibid Prison and marched to the Manila port area and loaded aboard a freighter, the Totori Maru, a large cargo type four hold freighter. The group I was with were directed aboard to hatch number three, the third hold, through the hatch and down the ladder, four decks down, the bottom of the ship. By this time it was dark, only a single string of lights swinging down the center of the hold, the Japanese soldiers with bayoneted rifles yelling, pushing, swinging rifles towards us ever pushing us down and towards the outside of the ship, crowding more and more men into the hold. When I reached the bottom of the ladder, four decks down, on my hands and knees I crawled towards the outside of the ship - finally bumped into the metal wall - reached out my hand the metal was covered with rust - damp - the air was fowl - about 350 to 400 men crowded into this hold. When the hold was considered full, the hatch cover was installed completely except for a small opening about two by four feet for entry and/or exit, directly over the ladder. This entry/exit was available for our use to go on deck to use one of the over-the-side toilets. This was not "hell", we were in the hands of a bunch of "animals".

            By this time we were not just dirty, we were filthy. What bathing facilities they had in Bilibid were inadequate to nonexistent and with the exception of the over-the-side toilets, there were no other facilities on this ship available to us. Bilibid being what it was, we were now covered with fleas, lice, and you name it. Many of the men that joined us in Manila were so weak with dysentery and diarrhea, they were unable to even climb the ladder up out of the hold, much less stand in line on deck to use the toilet. Needless to say, we were forced to eat, sleep, live (exist) in our own body waste. As for food and water, twice each day, buckets of water and a watery soup, along with small bags of a type of biscuit the Japanese Army used as field rations, were let down into the hold for us to survive on. We were aboard this ship for forty-four (44) days and during this period of time we lost forty (40) to fifty (50) men - most were buried at sea and others were found dead in the holds when we arrived in Pusan, Korea.

            On our way north, we stopped for one day in Formosa (Taiwan). We were off-loaded and hosed down with fire hoses - the one and only opportunity to bathe and clean-up for the entire trip (44 days). There has been some discussion as to where we were at this time - some say it was a port on the mainland of China but I believe it was Formosa. The first day out of this harbor as we continued our trip northward, we came under a submarine torpedo attack. Just by chance, I was on deck in the toilet line, port side, and witnessed three torpedoes coming toward the port side of the ship. The Japanese fired an artillery piece off the fantail and were scrambling for life preservers on the upper mid decks and we, the POW's, just stood and watched three trails of certain destruction coming towards us, we had no life preservers, nothing, just stand there in a crowd and wait. The ships captain turned the ship hard to port, into the incoming torpedoes, thus two torpedoes narrowly missed the stern and one just missed the bow, it was close. Immediately following this attack, the Japanese soldiers with bayoneted rifles, ordered, pushed, hollering and shoving driving us back down the ladder into the hold and the small entry/exit cover was closed and secured. This is just another example of the extreme inhuman concern these soldiers had for us. I have ask myself many times, how can one human being treat another human being in this manner. The inner feelings of hopelessness and despair one feels when placed under circumstances of this type of confinement, especially when coming under attack, is beyond description. We came under another submarine attack about two days out of Pusan, Korea. I might mention that this ship, like the one we were transported up from Mindanao to Manila, had no markings of any type that identified that Prisoners of War were aboard.

            While in Pusan, Korea, about 1600 POW's were off-loaded - there may have been some members of the 19th Bombardment Group off-loaded at this time, I do not know. Those that remained on board, about 350 men, included most all of us from Mindanao and others who joined us in Bilibid. Our destination was Japan proper, Osaka - 11 November 1942 - off-loaded, loaded aboard a train - arrived the following afternoon in Kawasaki, Japan. From the town of Kawasaki, we were marched about four miles to the Kawasaki POW camp, a new camp in the heart of the industrial area, we were the first occupants. This camp is identified as a labor camp in the Tokyo/Yokohama industrial area on Tokyo Bay. This camp was designated Tokyo POW Camp #2B, a labor camp.

            Aboard the train from Osaka to Kawasaki, a Japanese interpreter informed us (we were still in tropical clothing and it was now November, beginning of winter), in perfect English, they needed to know our clothing sizes. He further informed us he had received his education in one of our Ivy league Universities in the United States and that all of his life, he had to speak the American language, wear American clothes, eat American food, follow American customs and rules. And by d--- we were prisoners of the Japanese Empire and we were going to wear Japanese clothes, speak the Japanese language, sing Japanese songs, eat Japanese food, rules and customs, etc.. We now more fully understood the revengeful thinking of these individuals that now held us captive. We later learned that this was directed more at the Americans than the British, Australians, Javanese, Dutch, etc.. Of course, the interpreter was right - I did eat - I did wear - I even learned one of their military songs - I did not have to "like" so I did not like. This taught me a lesson that I have never forgotten - no one, except the Lord, can know what we think. I also felt we were in for some very difficult times. There is a difference between combat troops and what I will refer to as home guard troops. Soldiers that are not completely suitable for combat, but still qualified to be in the service of their country. However, for various reasons, political, health, or otherwise, not suitable for service outside the country. Every country in the world has this problem. We were now under this type of Japanese soldier.

Kawasaki POW Camp - Japan - November 1942 to August 1945:

This camp was located in the heart of the Kawasaki industrial area. The main building was a converted two story office building that housed the POW's with a couple of offices for the Japanese office staff. In addition to this building, there was a separate kitchen, bath house, toilet, and wash rack. This entire area was fenced with an eight foot wooden fence. The Japanese guard force had a separate one story building immediately outside the main gate. This was to be our home for an indefinite period.

            Officers and enlisted men in this camp were as follows: (8) Officers; (3 US Navy, 3 Dutch Navy, 1 Dutch Army and 1 English Navy, Doctor) and 338 enlisted men (19th Bombardment Group – (12) 14th Squadron – (25) 28th Squadron – (60) 30th Squadron – (22) 93rd Squadron - 2 other units listed, 60th CA; 4th Marines; 440th Ord; 7th Material Squadron; 5th Air Base Gp; 701st Ord; and others). As is the custom in military forces throughout the world, officers are quartered in one area and enlisted personnel in another. However, the facilities were the same. Another custom that is standard in most all military establishments, officers are not forced to work, especially in public. In many ways, this was more difficult to survive than working outside the prison compound.

            As mentioned above, this being a converted office building, we were quartered in rooms that held from twenty to twenty-five men on a double decked structure made of wood where we slept side-by-side with our heads against the wall and feet toward a center isle. Roll calls were held (daily minimum) in the morning inside the building before breakfast, after breakfast out in the compound (by designated work groups), outside the compound (still in designated work groups), then marched to assigned work details where civilian guards were held responsible for accounting for us. In the evening the process is reversed - formed up and marched back to the POW camp, accounted for by number then turned over to the guards at the gate, marched inside another roll call accounting, then dismissed until another roll call inside the building before lights out. Being a senior noncommissioned officer, I was placed in charge of one of these rooms (groups), thus requiring me to report roll call in the "Japanese Language".

            At first, none of us knew the language but I learned in a hurry - we decided to each take a number, learn how to say this number in Japanese, then each time we were required to count off, be sure we were standing in the same place every time. Sometimes this worked and sometimes it didn't. When the Officer of the Day (OD) stepped before the room to receive the report and roll call, the one in charge called the group to attention, bow from the waist to the Officer or NCO, report the group as "so many men", "all present and/or accounted for", all in Japanese, then order the men to "count-off". If the men were in their proper place, all went well. However, if out of order, ie., "one, two, three, "five", "four", "six", etc., all hell broke loose. The one in charge is the one to be disciplined - the OD generally slapped the one in charge in the face with his hand, fist, or whatever else is available to him. In the Japanese army, this is their method of disciplining their troops. There were times that this seemed to be standard procedure, depending on how the OD or senior NCO felt as he was taking roll call.

            Work parties were dispatched daily to the following local installations: NKK Steel Mill, Kawasaki Brick Factory, Mitsui Warehouse Storage facility, Mitsui coal dock, and a Standard Oil Company storage area. It was desirable that each work detail be assigned on a permanent basis but over time, most of us had occasion to work at all of these facilities. The first winter was probably the worst for all of us. Coming into Japan from the tropics in November - still wearing tropical military clothing - we were issued some British military clothing captured in Hong Kong but it too was inadequate to protect us from the cold, damp, weather in this area. Our captors were generous in allowing coal heaters in our billeting area - one small pot bellied coal stove up-stairs and one down-stairs. We were allowed to have a fire in these two stoves between about 6:00 pm and 9:00 pm - roll call and lights out - at this time the stove had to be cleaned out and washed down - the Japanese people are deathly afraid of fire.

            Our working and living conditions were not the best. In the winter months there was no protection from the cold. I developed a persistent cough, whether this was due to having a cold, breathing the filthy air in the industrial area, I don't know. At the brick factory there was always a tremendous amount of dust particles. In working of the coal boat detail there was the coal dust and the steel mill was equally dusty and dirty, smelting, casting, and rolling steel produces a large amount of airborne particles. I also had problems with my feet and legs - with the rice diet we were on, it could have been beri-beri. Swelling of the ankles and knee joints. Numerous times at the end of a working day, the guards would double-time us back into camp. In an already weakened condition, there were times it seemed almost impossible to place one foot in front of the other - the pounding heart - shortness of breath - sometimes difficult to continue. There were many times we experienced near complete exhaustion, unable to walk or run in a straight line, unable to keep our balance.

            Food consisted of the following: Rice (Millet) and soup. The rice was a mixture of red rice, thought to be millet, and barley. Soup was water and whatever green vegetable tops that could be found. When the Japanese guards had vegetables, we had the tops in our soup. If they had potatoes, we had the peels. When they had onions, we had the tops. When they had fish, yes, we had the heads in our soup. When in season, we were able to obtain (steal) tangerine peels by rummaging through garbage and trash cans out on the job. Stealing food from the Japanese was a means of survival but when caught, the punishment was severe. Beatings in front of the men and made to stand at rigid attention for extended periods of time. I was caught at this a number of times, however, this had to be done to survive. It seems strange in looking back over this period that one would be required to rummage through trash to survive, for this I am not ashamed, it was a means of finding something to eat. During the entire period of confinement, we received only two and one half (2 1/2) American or British Red Cross food parcels. There were many sent over but distribution was made to the Japanese, not the POW's. During this period I had no dairy products, very little meat, fruit, or nuts. On occasion, we were fed some type of fat meat we called whale blubber, it may have been. Even this was good.

            Intimidation, beatings, and physical torture were common, a continual practice during this period of confinement. As the war was coming to a close, the American Army Air Corps and Navy Air Groups were making daily day and/or night air raids over the greater Tokyo/Yokohama area. Kawasaki, being the industrial area between these two cities, was a prime target. Many times we were required to stand at rigid attention, out in the camp compound, during and after one of these raids. A few times we were lined up in two ranks, facing each other, required to slap and beat each other on and about the head, shoulder, and face. If we failed to do this as severe as the guards felt we should, they would order us out of ranks and do the slapping and beating themselves with their hands (fists), sticks, whatever they could get their hands on. We were also threatened with immediate execution when and/or if American troops made a landing on Japan proper.

            On a number of occasions we were formed into ranks out in the compound to witness punishment by beatings. We had in our camp a US Marine by the name of Armstrong (now deceased) that had been caught trying to steal some food from the kitchen storehouse. This man was beaten so severely, I do not believe he ever fully recovered. He was never the same after this beating. What made this one even worse than some of the others - it occurred in the winter and it was very cold, in the middle of the night, outside in the compound at attention for nearly three hours.

            To my knowledge, the first B-29 bomber flew in over Japan proper in late October 1944. On this date, I was working on the Komosho detail, the warehouse docks, and it was about mid-morning. The day was clear, not a cloud in the sky, this aircraft came in over Yokahoma from the south continuing north over Kawasaki towards Tokyo, making a wide turn to the right coming back south over Tokyo bay making another slow turn to the left continuing on south out of sight. Apparently this aircraft was on a photo mission as they were at an extremely high altitude, completely out of range of anti-aircraft guns, and only noticeable by the vapor trail. They were so high they could hardly be heard. Not only did they surprise us, they also surprised the Japanese - their anti-aircraft guns did not fire at them until they had already passed over Tokyo and were heading south out over the bay. The anti-aircraft shells were exploding below and behind the aircraft, they did not even come close. The guards in charge of us went berserk, rounded us up and doubled timed us back into camp - things were in a bit of confusion. I must confess that this was Christmas in October - this was the first sign that this war could be coming to a close. We had heard rumors, we knew that our troops were out there somewhere but we had no proof that the rumors were true - this was proof and was like a shot in the arm.

            I might add that we understood the Japanese language well enough to understand what was being spoken but not enough to be completely conversant with them. Like when President Roosevelt died, we overheard and understood this and were probably aware of his death before some of our own American citizens were. The Japanese soldiers and civilian guards that were around us or that we had any dealing with were delighted. In some way, it was their thinking that when we lost our leader we would also lose the war - we were aware that they were delighted. We were also aware that the Philippines had been retaken by the Americans and that various islands of the Pacific had been taken, however, like one Japanese soldier said, "Your American soldiers may take the Philippines back but they will never drive us out of Seattle". We let him talk but never believed the Japanese had invaded the states and were holding Seattle, Washington.

            In November 1944 about one hundred B-29 aircraft made their first air strike over Tokyo. When the air raid sirens sounded, we were awakened and depending on the circumstances, we received the blunt of their anger.

            When we were the target, the Japanese scampered for their shelters - when the target was in the distance such as Tokyo, there were times the guards would be turned loose and they would come through the compound taking their revenge out on us by making us stand at attention for extended periods of time, beating some of us with sticks, rifle butts, and fists, whichever suited them the best. Since we were under strict blackout conditions, we would gather at the second story windows and watch the raid off in the distance. As our bombers would pass over in formations of three, five, and seven, we would quietly applaud and pray for the safety of our men in those aircraft. Occasional one of the group would be hit and go down in flames, the Japanese would applaud for them being shot down. We had a saying that every morning we could see a little farther.

            In our camp, a bomb shelter had been constructed inside the compound for the permanent party guard force, ie., camp commander, a couple of permanently assigned sergeants, medical detachment enlisted man and a couple of civilians like Buck Tooth, Leather, etc., these are the names we knew them by. They would gather on top of this shelter and watch those raids off in the distance. Out the main gate about twenty-five or thirty feet, another bomb shelter was constructed for the military guard force assigned to guard our camp. This group of twenty-five to thirty men were rotated about every three to four months. I was assigned to the detail that constructed this shelter and we built it as they directed. They hauled in a number of large square concrete blocks, two and three feet square, some railroad ties and sheet metal. Since the water level in this area is rather close to the surface, they instructed us to dig down to a depth of about a foot, then place blocks along either side with sheet metal and railroad ties across the top then cover with dirt. When positioning these blocks along either side, they were deliberately stacked in a fashion that made them more of a hazard than protection against a bombing raid.

 

Fig 5  15 Apr 15-16 1945  219 airborne night Incendiary from 6-10 thousand feet. 13 airborne from 28th Sqd 19th BG. 12 aircraft lost. Bomb load was 9659 lb aver per aircraft = 1014 tons dropped on the mission.

Fig  6 Damage to Mitsubishi Oil Refinery & Hayama Petroleum Refinery Kawasaki 20th AF missions 291 & 310 Jul 27 & Aug 2 1945.

 

Damage to Mitsubishi Oil Refinery & Hayama Petroleum Refinery Kawasaki 20th AF missions 291 & 310 Jul 27 & Aug 2 1945.

            In April of 1945, the air raid alarms went off rather early in the evening. This particular night the incoming aircraft came in at a very low altitude dropping fire bombs. This type bomb consists of a cluster of octagon shaped tubes containing many small 4 pound bomblets of highly incendiary magnesium. The bomb explodes at a pre-set altitude throwing these individual tubes in all directions covering a large area and when these tubes strike any hard surface, the second explosive charge in each tube explodes again causing the bomblets to be distributed over a wide area igniting small fires. Other 80 pound bombs contained a jelly-like substance called napalm which explodes on contact splashing the fiery liquid over a wide area. Aircraft came in from the south, dropping fire bombs on Tokyo - continuing through most of the night - it was estimated that over 300 B-29's came in over Tokyo this one night. I would not even try to guess how many fires were started, how many lives were lost, we must have lost a number of aircraft for we saw them come down - this was probably due to flying at such a low altitude but they did one good job in burning Tokyo to the ground. It appeared that this was their mission and they did a good job. After this raid, the decision was made that if we came under attack, we meaning our camp, we (POW's) would be allowed to go out the back gate and proceed to the Mitsui Komosho waterfront docks and seek shelter wherever available. However, it would be necessary for a small number of prisoners to remain behind and protect the camp. We were told that should our camp burn or be destroyed for any reason, we would be forced to remain in the area, out in the open and continue to do our work. Since Sgt John Britton had been designated our leader, he divided us in groups and gave me the responsibility of remaining in the camp. A short time later we had a fire bomb dropped directly over our building. I happened to be downstairs when this bomb exploded in the air and after this, the entire area around our building lit up with fire everywhere. In saving our building, a few of us pulled burning boards and material off our camp building throwing these fire brands onto a building outside the compound burning it to the ground. We saved our building but we burned down a building just outside the fence.

            On 1-2 August, 1945, our camp, Tokyo 2B, sustained a direct hit during a demolition bombing raid. Our camp building was completely destroyed, this two story building collapsed, falling in a pile of rubble. In this single raid, twenty-three of our men were killed, most of them Americans. This particular night I went out the back gate and found a shelter a few feet from the edge of the bay. A bomb hit within a few feet of this shelter causing so much over pressure in the surrounding area that underground water was literally forced up from the ground into the bottom of our bomb shelter - water came up around our feet and legs to a depth of six to eight inches - a weird feeling. Shortly after this occurred, a sailor in the shelter made this comment, "damn, the boat is sinking". This was a nervous comment but enough to break the strain we were under and it brought some nervous laughter. The shelter inside our camp area received a near hit killing all inside and the shelter outside the fence, the one we built for the guards, a bomb hit near by and the structure would probably have saved those inside but it failed, killing all inside.

            The following morning I was placed on a body burning detail, not a pleasant assignment. We placed a couple of warehouse grill doors on top of some concrete blocks, laid bodies side-by-side on the grill doors, covered them over with sheets of corrugated roofing, built and maintained fires under the bodies until they were consumed. The following incident occurred, it is not pleasant, but it happened. As we were stoking the fire, one of our men would pick up a sizable board such as a two-by-four, look around to see that no one of the Japanese guards were watching, strike one certain dead individual on the head, then place this board under this individual and with a smile on his face, turn and look for another board. I ask him what he was doing. He replied - "Do you know who I have here under this sheet of tin?" - I answered with "No". He then informed me - "Under this sheet of tin I have "Leather", just yesterday he beat the hell out of me and to-day, I am burning his "ass"". This particular Japanese guard always carried a leather strap, strapped around his wrist and extended down into and just beyond his finger tips, and used this strap to hit and slap us on head and face - thus the nickname of "Leather".

            Subsequent to the clean-up, we were divided into groups and a few of us were transferred to a British camp located near the Kawasaki business district - worked with British POW's on the railroad, off-loading railroad freight cars.

            Before continuing, there is something to say about "having faith". Everyone knows the definition of faith, the firm belief in something which there is no scientific proof, belief in and trust in a living God. In addition to this, to survive under the most adverse conditions, we must be able to look beyond ourselves. Another trait that is important and sometimes it might be even equal to faith is a "sense of humor". Regardless of the situation, we must be able to laugh at ourselves. I am not saying or making any attempt to imply that humor, in and of itself, is in any way equal to faith. However, the ability of being able to see a bit of humor in even the worst situations and being able to laugh at ourselves is very important.

            As the war was coming to a close, two incidents happened that will indicate how I feel about humor. When in the British camp, we had a few Officers (also POW's) and they were kept separate from us and not required to work out on work details. One of these officers was a full Army Colonel captured on Corregidor - I do not remember his name. We also had a US Naval Officer, a Commander, in charge of all the enlisted prisoners, British, Australian, and Americans. He came to me and ask if I would take the time and go into the officers section and talk to this Colonel, he was worried about him.

            When I went in see him we talked about the where we were then, why were we here and how did all this come about. All of our conversation was in general terms getting to know each other, etc.. Naturally the subject turned to what we intended to do when this war is over and we get out of here. He made a comment that I will always remember and wonder what became of him. He was much older than I and had over twenty plus years of service when the war started - he had to have this much service to be a full Colonel. When the war started, he was a member of General MacArthur's staff - when this war is over his intentions are "to retire, never again would he wear the uniform of the United States Army, move as far away from any military establishment as was possible and even have his retirement checks addressed to him as "Mr", rather than "Col,". He continued by saying that he "felt nothing but shame for what had happened", and when this thing was over he was going to divorce himself completely from his military life and all those connected with it. I spent a couple of hours with him and came away wondering why he felt so guilty and was directing so much guilt and shame on himself. He had lost faith in our leaders that seemingly were responsible for our being here, and lost faith in himself. In my opinion, he had also lost faith in God. It could be that in the position he served before the war, he may have had enough contact with those in charge of us that he too felt the pangs of abandonment. In spite of the life threatening conditions we had been under these past few years, there are many things and events that are humorous, ie., Who could I blame for me being here in this mess - no one made me enlist in the service, it was my own choosing. I thought it rather humorous that my enlistment came to an end just ten days after I was captured - I should have been released and allowed to return to the states. Surviving on a diet of rice and soup, very little of both, we have laughed about rice being a bone builder - after being on a rice diet for a few months, we were able to count every bone in our body. My inner feelings were that we had come this far, we were nearing the end and surely we could survive anything that could be or would be thrown our way - why not continue to accept whatever our captors could throw at us for in the end, we would be the winner - how many times I have stood in front of one of them, allow him to beat on me, curse me, spit at me, sure it is hard to take, it is even more shameful when done before others, but all the time being exposed to this, I was still able to retain my inner thoughts. Holding on to our thoughts becomes our only defense, therefore, it becomes necessary that we retain both our faith and sense of humor. I remember the night that John Seres was ordered to stand at rigid attention in front of the guard shack. The two sentry guards decided to make John remove a sewer manhole cover and get down in the sewer then they replaced the cover. John said that as he squatted down in this sewer with the sewer water a couple inches over the tops of his shoes, his thoughts were mixed. Here he was a non commissioned officer of the United States Army, a country that was superior to any country in the entire world, the only free country in existence - here he was forced to squat in this small hole and let this sewer water run over his feet - what a situation to find yourself. The more he thought of this the funnier it got and he began to laugh to himself, then out loud - this must have upset the guards as they could not understand what was going on - they removed the cover and looked in - John looked up at them and continued to laugh - this continued for a short while and they ordered him out and told him to go on in the camp and go to bed. We had to have this kind of humor to survive. When we find ourselves in a situation such as this, all we have to defend ourselves is our thoughts. This is where the humor comes in - there is humor everywhere but sometimes we have to look for it. Our thoughts become our means of survival. Sometimes I have thought of those that made their shameful retreat to the south and safety of Australia, they must carry their shame throughout their lives - we could possibly be better off than they for we should have no shame, we were abandoned to the enemy. He said he appreciated me coming in and invited me back. Met with him a couple more times but with little success. I will always wonder if he survived.

            In the British camp, there are eight men assigned to a cell. Each cell contains four bunks stacked two bunks high on either side of the room with a single doorway in front and a single window out the back. Charles Richards had the lower bunk on one side of the doorway and I was in the bunk on the other side. I believe it was on the 14th of August (1945), the day that the Japanese Emperor talked to the Japanese nation over radio, indicating the war was coming to an end and without any explanation, we were returned to the camp in the early afternoon. During the afternoon a couple of small details were assembled and sent outside the camp to clean up around the outside camp fence - this entire area had also been bombed and burned out leaving rubble all over the place. During the afternoon, this Japanese guard informed me where he wanted me to work and what to do, then he ask if I understood. I answered with "ah-so-ka", which is the common way of saying, "ah-so-des-ka", which is formal for "I understand". By answering him with "ah-so-ka", this would be like talking to an Officer and answering with "yeah". By answering him with the "ah-so-ka", I was talking down to him. His immediate response was to haul off and slap me with his open palm across the face - this is normal for correcting someone in the Japanese Army but not very well appreciated in the American Army. I will admit it made me angry but since we were still prisoners there was nothing I could do about it but grit my teeth and take it. However, it did strike me as funny that he was slapping me "after" his emperor had indicated they were going to surrender.

            As the war was coming to a close, the group of us that were sent into the British camp were called out and returned to the Kawasaki group at the Nishin Flour Mill camp. When we were sent to the British camp, we did not know where the others of our camp had been taken but were pleasantly surprised and pleased to be rejoined with our original group. From this location I was able to witness the American fleet entering Tokyo Bay, first the mine sweepers, destroyers, light and heavy cruisers accompanied by supporting ships; ie., troop carriers, tankers, etc., then the hospital ship Benevolence. Early the following morning we were awakened by a landing force of US Marines entering our camp from the Tokyo bay side - I have never witnessed such a beautiful sight. This group of young men in their battle dress, armed with carbine rifles and machine guns, moving rapidly into our camp asking questions about our condition, directing us to landing craft that had been pulled up to the dock. They also wanted to know if the Japanese guards that were still in the camp area had treated us badly. I have often wondered what they thought as they looked at us - here we were, a group of living skeletons, dressed in a patched up mixture of American and British soldiers uniforms, covered with hand sewn patches, obviously done by men with no sewing experience. Also, there were some tears, yes, there is no shame in crying - I know the true meaning of "crying for joy", I know what it means to have your heart so full it is impossible to talk, I know what it means to be so full of tears you are unable to speak and have some young man, much younger than I, transfer his weapon to his left hand and put his strong right arm across your shoulders and give a tight warm squeeze, yes, I know this feeling and it is great. These young men tried to hurry us into the landing crafts but at the same time were asking questions such as, anyone here from Kansas, California, Florida, etc., looking for someone from their home state. In all of this commotion, we were hustled into the landing craft and out to this hospital ship anchored just beyond the breakwater - the name of this ship, the "USS Benevolence".

            The landing crafts pulled up alongside the ship, litters were lowered and we were placed in these litters, side by side, two at a time, lifted up aboard the hospital ship where hospital corpsmen helped us up and got under our shoulders, helping us walk to the ladder (stairway) leading down to the receiving bay. It seemed rather strange that we had been working every day and now we were being assisted in getting up, walking, etc., it seemed rather strange but I was very grateful for their kindness. When I reached the receiving room there were two things that jumped out at me - 1), the receiving room was painted a gleaming white color, it seemed so white it hurt my eyes to look at it. 2), a navy nurse was standing a short distance from the base of the ladder - dressed in her navy white uniform, a broad smile on her face with hands on her hips. She came up to me, looking up into my face, her words were - "Take off your clothes". I could have kissed her but I didn't - she went from one to the other saying the same thing - this was her way of welcoming us aboard and it was beautiful. After coming out of our lice infected clothing, we were given wash rags and ushered through a room of showers - plenty of hot water and soap - it was if we were dreaming. After this, a towel and ushered through two rows of medical doctors. We were weighed, punched, probed, ask if we had any medical questions, how had we been treated, how did we feel, etc.. We were then outfitted in navy clothing (fatigues) and those of us that were considered able to walk and care for ourselves were off-loaded to other ships in the fleet. Before being transferred to another ship, there was a delay of a couple of hours and a couple of us walked forward to the bow and spent some time looking out over Tokyo Bay towards Kawasaki and a number of thoughts were rapidly passing through my mind. I guess I was really doing some soul searching. I knew what was behind me but was I ready to face the future, the unknown, how would we be accepted, what was expected of us. There was a gentle breeze blowing through the rigging of the ship and I could hear old glory, the flag, ruffling in the breeze. It seemed so quickly that we had been brought out from under foot of an enemy and literally brought into the arms of people that loved us. How many times I have looked forward to this day. How many times have I dreamed of this day. In my mind I was traveling back to when this whole thing began, the hardships along the way, the days and nights of going to bed tired, dirty, beaten, hungry, sometimes even without hope. Now it was all in the past - here I stood, clean, full, full of hope, and I felt the love of those that were taking care of us, even the young men that came into our camp. I was rested but still tired, I could still feel the pangs of being beaten and tortured but now those that did this to me were there and I was here. They could now look at their flag in despair - I could look at old glory with hope, respect, and love. They would continue to be dirty, bug infested, no place to live, to sleep, they too suffered with losing friends and relatives, now they would probably live without hope. This may be difficult to believe but deep in my heart I did not have a feeling of hate for them - I felt some dislike for some of them but those were the ones directly responsible for what had been done to me - I really felt that in some way they had earned the position they were now in. So, what did I feel for them - I really felt a great deal of sorrow for them. They were the looser and we the winner. I think as I stood there I again felt some tears flowing down my cheeks - were they tears of joy or were they tears of sorrow, I don't know.

            That afternoon, I was transferred to a destroyer. The crew members of this destroyer moved out of their bunks and slept on deck (it was the last of August and early September) to allow us the comfort, such as it was, under war time conditions, the comfort of their bunks. The ships captain advised us that when they shipped out of Pearl Harbor (Hawaii, Headquarters of the Pacific Fleet), they were under orders to place on board all the extra food supplies, extra cooks and galley personnel, and join up with the Pacific fleet as their mission was to enter the Tokyo bay with a designated group of the fleet and there was a good possibility they would be picking up American prisoners of war and would be transporting them directly back to the states. He further stated that if we wanted something to eat, anything, regardless of the time of day or night, all we had to do was go to the galley and ask. He also stated he had placed extra men in the galley and it would be open for us - in short, if they had it on board, we could have it. If they did not have it, they would substitute with whatever they had. I have nothing but praise for the men aboard this ship - they gave up their bunks and slept on deck, allowing us use of their bunks. When it was time for meals and the sailors were lined up to be fed, should one or a group of us entered the dining area, these men stepped back and forced us to get to the head of the line.

            After three or four days, we were off-loaded onto a LST (Landing Ship Transport), placed on busses and transported to an airport outside Yokohama to be flown south to Okinawa (There seemed to be some confusion as to how and who was to bring us back to the US) ( Would it be the Army or the Navy). We were then placed aboard an Army Air Corps C-54 type aircraft and flown to Okinawa.

            Before leaving Japan and returning to a normal way of life, I will attempt to record some of the conditions under which we have had to live these past thirty-nine months here in Japan. It will be impossible for me to record of these conditions in a way that can be completely understood by those that may read this, however, will do the best I can and hopefully, none of my descendants will ever be forced into a situation such as this. One thing that I have learned and will never forget, "I have learned the true meaning of freedom, what it is, how it is to be protected, and is not to be taken lightly. Also, freedom is not a free ride, it is not a free gift - when we possess it, we must also be willing to fight for it or lose it. Freedom was fought for and passed on to me in this generation and must be fought for by us and passed on to our descendants and it is my prayer that they will understand what they are about to receive and protect it accordingly.

            To be hungry: I have been hungry for thirty-nine months. Being a normal American, I loved all types of food stuffs and in my growing up, was generally exposed to everything good to eat and drink. However, over the past thirty-nine months I woke up hungry, ate my morning meal and went out to work hungry, worked through the morning and after our noon meal, hungry, continued afternoon work and returned to our camp hungry, ate my evening meal and went to bed hungry, this continued day after day, seemingly without end. There were times when we thought it would never come to a close.

            There is another type of hunger, mental hunger. This condition may very well be as devastating as physical hunger. There was nothing for our minds to absorb except the day to day struggle to keep alive. No books, newspapers, radio, music, nothing to take our minds off this daily struggle. Most of us possessed a New Testament and as often as possible, would read portions of this looking for strength and something to sustain ourselves. On a lighter side, someone or somehow a single copy of Robin Hood found its way into camp - I have read this book not once, not twice, not three times - four times or more. Robin Hood is a good story but I will probably never own a copy of the book. It was at Kawasaki I met Jim Nelson, a POW from another outfit in the Philippines - I did not know that Jim was a member of the Mormon Church and if I did, it would not have made any difference as I knew very little about the Mormons. However, he said he had a Book of Mormon and if I liked, he would let me read it. I do not remember what brought about our meeting but it did appear as an accident but knowing what I know now, it was no accident. I remember telling him that "I would read anything". Soon after this we met in the upstairs foyer and he gave me the book - over a period of time I read this book and each time Jim and I would meet, he would ask where I was in the book and try to explain what the book was all about. I read this book as a novel and thoroughly enjoyed it. Not only was it interesting, it was something I had never heard of before and Jim tried to explain it as we went along. Another thing that occurred during our meetings. Jim did not use tobacco and I did - on occasion he would have a couple or more cigarettes given to him by the guards - he would save them for me.

            Bathing, shaving and keeping clean: Over a thirty-nine month period, not one time was I able to obtain a good bath. During this time I had two or three baths in a river while in the Malabalay camp, hosed down one time on the island of Formosa, the balance of time we dipped bathing water from a large wooden container in a bathhouse in the camp. A few times this bath water was warm but normally, drawn straight out of a water tap - warming would require fuel and this too was a scarce item. Soap was another item that was scarce - also of very poor quality. Thirty-nine months without a decent bath - think of this, over three years. We were issued tooth brushes from time to time with some sort of pink tooth powder. Have no idea what this powder contained but we used it. Hair cuts - hand clippers only - from front to back or back to front - anyone could be a barber. I also learned how to sharpen a double edged razor blade inside a glass - even had to borrow a glass for this purpose - blades were a premium and I might have had five or six over this period. During this period I learned a couple of trades that may help me in the future - stevedore, off-loading coal boats, coolie trades around a steel mill, even how to steal food and sabotage army vehicles. Some of these skills could be useful but I just don't believe I will be following any of these trades to support myself throughout my life.

            Our beds and how did we sleep:   Only two things between my body and pine boards - thin straw mat and Japanese army blanket.

            Back to my liberation and return to American control: The few days on Okinawa were spent again being exposed to medical doctors, Army Intelligence Officers asking questions about our capture, treatment, rewriting our military records (most of our records were lost and/or destroyed in the Philippines when the Islands fell to the Japanese back in 1942).

            At this point I will state my condition. We have had no medical care for the past four years except what Dr. Curtin, a British Navy Doctor, also a POW, and all that was available to him was a home-made knife for lancing boils and do whatever else he could for us. All of us were skin and bones. When the war started, I weighted about 185 lbs - my present weight was about 125 lbs. This is not much weight for a 26 year old, 6 ft., 3 in., individual. However, having been locked up for the past thirty-nine (39) months, worked and treated as slave labor, my only desire was to get on with my life. I thought I felt pretty good - for the first time in over three years I was full of good food - my body was clean - I was clean shaven and had on clean clothes - I felt pretty good.

            All of us received a one grade promotion - I was promoted to the grade of Technical Sergeant (T/Sgt). After about a week of this we were again loaded onto a C-54 and flown to a US Army replacement center on the outskirts of Manila, in the Philippines.

            There was one incident that happened on Okinawa that was a bit humorous and again, it was cause for a bit of anger. When we off-loaded in Okinawa and were waiting for transportation to one of the billeting areas, the American Red Cross had a stand set up to serve us donuts and coffee. The cost for a cup of coffee and a donut was ten cents ($0.10), damn, we had not received any pay since "01 December 1941" and the Red Cross wanted to charge us "10 cents" for coffee and donuts - I have often wondered if this was a mistake or was someone just not thinking. It has caused me some concern over the years.

            While in the replacement center, we were outfitted in Army clothing, received our first pay (partial), and allowed some free time. It would be difficult if not impossible for me to tell anyone just how I felt. Here I had been treated as something less than a person, completely under the control of the Japanese Army for over three and one-half years (39 months - 1208 days), worked as slave labor, beaten, punished for any infraction of their rules of war, trumped up or otherwise, on starvation rations, now to be "FREE". Along with all of this we were completely behind the times, we knew very little about the war, even the music had made some very drastic changes. The best way to state our position is "out-of-step" with the world. Sgt Westerfelt and I decided we would make a trip up to Clark Field, Pampanga Province (about 65 mile north of Manila), where we were stationed when this war started back in 1941. We hitched a ride on an Australian Air Force LB-30 Bomber and off we went on a home coming experience.

            While at Clark, we went off-base to the near by town of Angeles. This was the place we spent most of our off-duty time back in the years before the war. We enjoyed ourselves - we located a couple we had known like Mr. Tineo. He owned a bar and wood working shop and one of his bartenders, Mary Dauquas, was employed as one of his bartenders. At this time, she had a very small bar of her own and in some way was able to survive the war under the Japanese occupation forces. They too had been under control of the Japanese these past three years and also had their problems. They had heard that both Westerfelt and myself had been killed and thought they were now seeing ghosts. The Tineo's told us where her bar was located and that she should be there at this time - we walked to her bar - looked in and she was behind the bar - Red went in first - waved to her and said, "Bring me my drink Mary", I walked in behind Red with the same comment, "Bring me my drink Mary" - she looked at us as if she had seen a ghost. She immediately turned as white as any white person I have ever seen, had a little difficulty in coming out from behind the bar, she ran towards us grabbing us by our arm, head, hugging us, she had heard that both of us had been killed. When she fully realized that we were real, she closed the bar, literally running her few customers out telling them she was closed for the evening. She called in her teen age daughter telling her who we were, telling her to go out somewhere, I do not know, but a complete meal of chicken with all the side orders were brought in for us. A couple of the Tineo family that were not present when we were at their place, came in and they too were elated to see and visit with us. We were wined and dined as best they could and as hungry to hear what had happened to us as we were to hear what had happened to them. We spent the evening answering questions, telling them what had happened to us, they expressed their love for us and what the Americans meant to them and how grateful they were for what we had attempted to do for them. It was also heart-breaking for us to hear what had happened to them. They had also lived through some very hard times. This experience was a homecoming for me and to hear them express their love, their gratitude, and appreciation for what we had tried to do in defending their country and their love for us, not only as defenders of their nation but love for us as individuals.

            We departed Manila aboard a US Navy hospital ship for the states. We went by way of Leyte Island, Philippine group, to pick up additional military patients. Leyte was the invasion point when the United States invaded the Philippines to liberate the islands from the Japanese. Our course from Leyte was nonstop to Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada, just north of Seattle, Washington, as we also had some Canadians aboard. I guess, "we", as X-POW's, created somewhat of a problem. Ordinarily, on Navy ships, all enlisted grades serve on guard and kitchen duty. However, since we had been confined for some three plus years and were still rather underweight, it seemed a little absurd to assign us to normal duty. After an assignment of some of our men to kitchen duty, their physical condition was brought to the attention of those in charge. Someone must have decided to excuse all X-POW's from normal duty. This was further compounded by the fact that we, as first three graders, were not accustomed to doing such duty as kitchen duty. This duty is normally relegated to privates and privates first class. Little did we know that some of the things we had been accustomed to were things of the past. Another thing, on Navy hospital ships, there are no places to sit on deck, except on the deck. Each and every night there was a movie shown on the aft deck. The projector was positioned on the poop deck (fan tail) facing forward with the screen on the aft end of the bridge deck. Therefore, as passengers, we had to sit (or stand) on the aft deck. In looking for a good vantage point, I noticed a ladder leading to the poop-deck but it was marked "crew members only". I climbed far enough up the ladder to see some deck chairs, then down into the ship to my bunk, my clothing bag, my navy fatigue clothing. My problems were solved - from this day until we landed in Seattle, each evening I donned my sailor uniform - up the ladder - into one of the deck chairs - enjoyed the movie every night. Have often wondered what would have been said had they caught me - probably nothing but a good laugh.

            When we arrived in Vancouver, docked just long enough to off-load the Canadians we had on board then south to Seattle, Washington, USA, "HOME". We arrived in Seattle around noon, docked somewhere close to Ft Lewis, and in some order started to disembark. Keep in mind that we, the X-POW's, had been out of the states well over four years. As for me, I had been out of the country for over six years, having left San Francisco back in July, 1939. Our orders read Army Air Corps unassigned, casual, we had no one to look to for guidance and leadership, no officer personnel (this too is another story), completely unfamiliar with procedure, frankly, "WE WERE COMPLETELY LOST". We were a small portion of the passenger list numbering about 200 x-POW's out of some 1200 to 1500 men.

            When we pulled into the dock, there was a large crowd of men, women and children, most of them in uniform. There was also a band, honor and color guard, uniformed welcoming committee, staff cars, ambulances, busses, etc.. As the passengers aboard ship began to disembark, it was apparent they knew when and where we were and the date and time we would be arriving home as most of them were being met by family, friends and acquaintances. The word was finally passed to us that we would probably remain on board for the night - no reason or excuses but this was the way it would be. I felt this was just another rumor and surely, this would not happen - but it did. When everyone was off-loaded except us (X-POW's), the honor and color guard left, the band returned their instruments to their cases, folded their chairs, loaded a bus and headed out - I stood at the ships rail and watched as a couple of men on the dock removed the gang plank and the ship started its engines and slowly pulled away from the dock to a position about half way between the two piers. The ship to shore tie lines were thrown to both piers and the ship was tied about half way between these piers. The sun was starting to go down, yes, we were going to remain on board - "WELCOME HOME" - "A GREAT WELCOME HOME". All of this without any explanation. Nothing.

            I remember a few of us, John Britton being one of them, we stood at the ships rail looking out over the city lights how they reflected into the sky. We could also hear the noises and occasionally an automobile or truck would pass - we could not believe this was happening to us. I believe that down deep we were hurt - many times we have thought of and looked forward to this day - when in Kawasaki on work detail, I have looked out over Tokyo bay to the east and wonder how it would be to return home - how it would feel to be back in the country after being gone so long - and here we were, tied between two piers. I have often wondered if the other members of this group felt as I did - it would be impossible for me to record on paper my inner feelings. I have tried to do this, have talked to others in this group and they too have been unable to express how they really felt - I best leave this and let those that follow me come to their own conclusion as how this would make one feel.

            Early the following morning three or four old GI busses arrived on the dock from Madigan General Hospital. The ship was again moved to the dock on the port side, no band, no fanfare, no welcoming committee, just a "lets go men, on to the busses, we are taking you to the hospital". We found out later that we were not expected and/or should not have been returned to Seattle. It seems that we were expected in San Francisco. Have often wondered why we were not held on board and taken south to San Francisco - why not - look who we were - just some bunch of X-POW's being returned to the states. But with all this, I was very glad to be home.

            The following afternoon, I was given the opportunity to call home, a free telephone call. When on Okinawa and again in Manila, we were able to send and receive telegrams to and from home, but this was my first opportunity to talk to my family. I talked to my parents for the first time since entering the service back in Oklahoma City on 20 May 1939, over six years and four months. This must have been much worse for them than myself for the Army had me listed as "missing in action" for about two years. My parents had no knowledge where I was, whether I was alive or dead. Sometime in 1943/44 my parents were advised that I had been captured by the Japanese and was a prisoner of war and interned in Japan.

            At Madigan General Hospital, Fort Lewis Washington, we were again subjected to teams of medical doctors. As I look back, I do not know what they were looking for and do not believe they did either. Their questions were generally the same; ie., how do you feel, did they mistreat you, do you have any complaints, etc.. Frankly we felt good, for the first time in years we were able to keep ourselves clean, not hungry, no one following us with a rifle or a stick to work us over. We were sleeping between clean white sheets, we were "FREE", no roll calls, FREE, this is a wonderful word - four letters - "F-R-E-E". For the first time in my life I knew the true meaning of this one word. I have been asked many times if I gained anything good from my experience as a POW - the answer is yes - I know the meaning of being "Hungry" and now I know the meaning of being "Free". In brief, I truly believe I could write a book on the meaning of freedom, the meaning of this one word. I also believe it is near impossible for one to define the meaning of freedom if he has never experienced the loss of being free. How else could I feel after having been locked up for thirty nine months, nearly starved to death, our lives threatened daily, worked as slaves, the question in and of itself is rather ridiculous. My only thought was to be released from this hospital as soon as possible, return home and see my family, try to bury these past few years and get on with my life.

            My first night in town:  I had received a partial pay, was dressed in new Government Issue (GI) Army Air Corp clothing, GI shoes (combat boots), everything. I must have looked like some sort of a recruit, twenty-six years of age, T/Sgt stripes on my arm, seven overseas hash marks, each hash mark represents six month overseas in war time, indicating I had been out of the country the entire war, four rows of ribbons, Bombardier Wings, six feet three inches tall, total weight about 135 lbs. Now we were ready to go, little did we know just how far out-of-step we really were but we soon found out. M/Sgt John W. Britton and myself were members of the same outfit and had survived the entire war together and were now off to spend an evening in Seattle, Washington.

            Our first stop was to replace our GI shoes with something a little more comfortable as issue shoes by the army are more of a boot than a low cut soft leather shoe. Issue shoes are for field use and designed and constructed for use in combat and not intended for dress wear. We found a shoe store, found the dress shoe we were looking for, told the clerk we would like to buy a pair each. With this, the clerk ask for our shoe ration stamp. Neither John or myself knew what he was talking about - "ration" - had never heard of this. We knew that things of this sort were rationed in countries like Japan but this was home, this was the United States of America. This was our country that had won the war, the country with everything, ration - not here. The clerk explained to us that we must have a shoe ration stamp to purchase a pair of shoes and since we did not have this stamp, he could not legally sell them to us. However, he could direct us to a black market shop where we could purchase shoes but of a higher price and a much lower quality. We went down the block to this other store, bought a pair of low cuts, left the GI shoes, and off we went. This was our first lesson.

            Our next stop was a jewelry store. We wanted a wrist watch to replace the wrist watch we lost when we were captured by the Japanese back in 1942. We had no problem in making this purchase. The selection was rather limited but adequate.

            We then set out to find something to eat, something different, something we had not had to eat in a long time. We found a waffle shop. We ordered and were served. However, rather than butter, we were served some sort of butter substitute that was white in color. It looked like a small square of "lard". I ask the waitress what it was and was told it was "margarine". I then ask why was it white if it is supposed to be a butter substitute. In thinking back over this, I wonder what was going through this individuals mind. She must have wondered what and or who she had in front of her. We found out later that in the state of Washington, it is against the law to add color to margarine before it is sold so the buyer will know that he is being served a butter substitute, not the real thing. Frankly, it looked to me like we were being served chunks of lard with our waffle. Just another indication of our status. She must have wondered where we had been. Did we not know the US had been in a war. Maybe she thought we were the enemy. We were learning fast.

            After our waffle, we went into a bar for a beer. We stepped up to the bar and ordered a beer. The bartender ask what kind of sandwich did we want. I told him none as we had just finished eating. He too seemed a little surprised and had a perplexed look on his face. He then explained that in the state of Washington, it is required by law that one must have food with his alcoholic drink. I then said, just serve us anything he wished as all we wanted were a couple of beers. I was served a cheese sandwich with my beer, one slice of cheese between two slices of bread. Then we made our second mistake. We picked up our beer and sandwich and started to walk over to a table along the wall. You would have thought we had just about committed the unforgivable sin. We were pounced upon from all sides with, you can't do that, we must carry your drinks, stop where you are, etc.. In the state of Washington, it is against the law for a customer to move his drink from one table to another. It must be done by the bartender or one of the waitresses. Again, against the law. What seemed strange to me was that I had no knowledge that there was now or had ever been a shortage of anything in this country and all of these weird rules and laws. It was against the law to do this, to do that, where were we - had we already lost this freedom that we had so recently gained. It was as if we were in a very strange land. Again, we were learning fast.

            After this incident, we felt it was time for us to buy ourselves a bottle and make a fast retreat to the safety of the military hospital. In the hospital, we knew our way around and also knew we were among friends.

            In the state of Washington, liquor stores are owned and operated by the state. We found a liquor store, got in line, waiting our turn at the counter. It seemed there was a line-up for everything. When we reached the counter, we told the attendant what we wanted. He ask for our "ration card", we had none. He said that since we were just entering the states from overseas, we could go next door, make application, and a ration card would be issued on the spot. We followed his instructions, into another line, filled out the necessary paper work and were issued the liquor ration card. With our cards, we went back into the liquor store, back in line, worked our way to the counter and informed the attendant we wished to purchase whatever we were allowed. Let me explain: They work out some sort of a formula - you are allowed so many quarts, pints, etc., but not all whiskey. One must take so much of one and so much of something else. John and I ask him to sell us as much as he could - whatever combination - whatever assortment as we were returning to base and cared less what we had. From this store we went immediately to another store and purchased enough mix, coke, soda, etc., then we were on our way looking for a bus to return to Ft Lewis and safety.

            Upon our arrival at the Ft Lewis gate, there is one thing we did know, one thing that is not allowed in military hospitals is alcohol. Knowing this, we slipped our way into the ward kitchen and locked the door. Now as I remember, it started with John and myself - after a couple of drinks, we decided to bring in some of the fellows in our outfit like Sgts. Callahan, Glass, Hoy, others, one at a time until we had some ten to twelve. We were enjoying ourselves, bothering no one.

            Some time around ten in the evening, someone knocked on the door and identified herself as a nurse, demanding we open the door. We quieted down as much as we could and since John Britton was the ranking man, let him go to the door. John quickly opened the door, reached out and pulled her into the kitchen. There she stood, a young, pretty, very new, 2nd Lt, Nurse. She seemed a little frightened at first but we told her of our problems, what we had run into down town, and yes, we were well aware of Army hospital rules and regulations about drinking and alcoholic beverages on military installations, but all we wanted was to be left alone. We also told her that we had met with entirely too much confusion and felt we were just not ready to deal with what seemed to be out there. She then asked us to keep it quiet and she would tell no one and left. She also informed us that she would be going off duty at midnight and did not know who would be coming on duty.

            Shortly after midnight, there was another knock on the door and again the nurse identified herself. We opened the door and there stood, not one, but three 2nd Lt Nurses. They were still in uniform but were off-duty and had gone to other ward kitchens in the hospital, gathered all the bread, milk, eggs, bacon, and other foodstuffs, and were now ready to cook for us. They continued to do this every night until I left the hospital and not once did they, or any of us, get out of line. I do not even remember that any of them ever took a drink. I have always admired military nurses and consider them to be a great bunch of women. They are the best.

            After about two weeks of this, we did not know just why they were keeping us. Some said we were waiting for a hospital train to come in and move us east across the US placing us in military hospitals close to our individual homes. All of this made some sense but one could also wonder why. It just seemed to me they were holding us unnecessarily and for what, no one seemed to know - there were no firm answers. One afternoon John and I met the hospital commander in the hallway. We ask what was causing the delay and why were we being held here in the hospital? He said he did not know but confirmed the rumor about the hospital train. We asked what would happen if and/or when the train arrived and what if we were not here and/or could not be found? He looked over his shoulder and replied with - "Fellows, if we are unable to find you when the train is loaded and ready to leave, we do have your home address - all we could do is mail your orders to your home of record". We thanked him and turned to leave. He said over his shoulder - "Good luck and you fellows be careful and take care of yourselves". John was to be transferred to a hospital in Riverside, California and I was to be transferred to a hospital near Tulsa, Oklahoma. With this information, we were ready to move out.

            We checked the office and determined our home of record was properly recorded on hospital records. We packed our bags and promptly went AWOL (Absent Without Leave). That evening we caught a bus to the Tacoma Army Air Base. We found out rather quickly that traveling conditions were very poor. We were still under wartime conditions and many restrictions we had no knowledge of and truthfully, had never heard of. Yes, we were in a very strange country. We knew the language, the people, we knew we were home but we knew very little about the conditions. One cannot imagine our feelings and I am certain that those we came in contact with must have wondered who we were and where we had been. We were now in a position to face reality as is was, not as we had remembered. The train from Seattle to Tacoma was overcrowded and we literally stood the entire trip - it took us most of the night. Upon our arrival in Tacoma, we caught a GI bus out to the Air Base.

            Somehow we were able to catch a flight on a C-33, Douglas built two engine aircraft affectionately called a "Goney Bird", scheduled out to Hamilton Army Air Field, San Francisco, California. Upon arrival we went into flight operations and checked the flight board to see what was scheduled out the next morning. Listed on the board was another C-33 scheduled out the next morning from Hamilton Field to Washington DC and the pilot was listed as "Gen Kenney". We wondered, could this be "George C. Kenney"? When the war started, we had a Lt Col George C. Kenney in the 19th Bombardment Group at Clark Field - could this be this same Kenney. If so, we might have found someone to help us out of a bad situation. We located the Crew Chief in the transient quarters, ask about his pilot, we were in luck - it was the Lt Col George C. Kenney we had in the 19th Group. The crew Chief told us to be on the flight line the following morning and he felt sure the General would take us any where we wanted to go. This seemed to be our first real break.

            Now for our night on Hamilton Field with no orders. We still did not belong to any organization, we had been issued identification card, listed as "Temporary" and "Casual, unassigned". Here we were, "AWOL", Absent Without Leave, trying to find a bed in transient quarters and going to ask an Army Air Corp "General Officer" to transport us to our home.

            As I remember, at the transient barracks we took our place in line behind others and waited our turn. We did notice that everyone had orders of some kind since they were being requested to show them to the Sergeant behind the desk. Her we were, Senior Sergeants, AWOL, without orders, at least we were trying to go home, but who would believe us. John was ahead of me, naturally, he ranked me. The Sergeant ask John where he was going. John replied, Riverside, California. Then the Sergeant ask to see a copy of his orders. John pulled the long stall - started a search of each pocket, then to his flight bag, side pockets, back through his pockets, always saying, I have them here some place. Needless to say, the men in line behind us were becoming just a little angry. The Sergeant finally said, "Just sign here" and he assigned him a bed. I stepped up and he asked me the same question. When he requested my orders, I pulled the same stall but added, I am on the same set of orders as Sergeant Britton, we are traveling together. With that, the Sergeant said, "What the hell, sign here". We made it.

            The following morning we were on the flight line rather early and when General Kenney came out, the crew chief told him who we were and what we were trying to do. The General called us over, we talked about the old outfits back in the Philippines, what had happened to us and them and a little of what John and I were trying to do and why we were here. After a few minutes of this casual chit chat he said, "lets get aboard, we are going to take you fellows home". With that, we were off and on our way to Los Angeles, California. We had made a General Officer a partner in our crime of being AWOL. Upon our arrival in Los Angeles, John wanted me to go home with him to Corona, California. I refused, from here on he should go it alone. I would do the same, we shook hands and parted with "see you later".

            I will now review something that made it possible for this next series of events. Back in the spring of 1937 when I graduated from high school in Tulsa, Oklahoma, Verlin, my sister, was married to Joe Navarro and they lived in Los Angeles. Verlin had a friend living in South Los Angeles by the name of McBride and for some strange reason, I remembered their address - 734 West Golden Avenue. This Mrs McBride also had a daughter by the name of Loraine. I spent a few moments on the telephone, went through the telephone operator, asked for the telephone number for that address and they gave it to me. I called the number, identified myself and was a little surprised. I was told that Mrs McBride had called her (The McBrides had sold and moved from this address) and informed her that should I call, be sure and let me know their new telephone number, address, and have me get in touch with them. It seems that through the war years they had maintained contact with my family and were aware of my confinement and that surely I would return through the Los Angeles port. I called and Loraine answered the telephone. When I identified myself, she asked where I was, told me to stay put and she would be over in a matter of minutes. She picked me up and we went to her parents home, had dinner, and I stayed the night with them. The last time I had seen Loraine was back in 1937, she was a senior in high school. Now she was married and had three children. Again it dawned on me just how much out of step and how far behind I was and how things had changed.

            The following morning the McBrides returned me to the airport, we took off, next stop Amarillo, Texas, for fuel. When we got back aboard, General Kenney came over to me and said, "Sergeant, I am taking you home". This sure made me feel good. I felt that somehow, he was doing something just a little special for me. The flight was rather uneventful until we were about thirty minutes out of Tulsa. It was about 10:30 pm, after dark, the crew chief came back and said the General wanted me up forward. Directly in front of the nose were the lights of Tulsa and he wanted me to see them. I can hardly express my feelings of returning home after being gone for over six years and the many things that have happened since leaving this area in 1939 when entering the service. My intent at that time was to be gone about two years. It now seemed so long ago.

            After we landed, I went into the passenger lounge to shower and change clothes. General Kenney came in and said he had a staff car and would like to take me home. I thanked him and said he had done enough and I could take it from here. He asked again as he felt he would like to do it for me. Again I thanked him and expressed my appreciation but would like to go it alone from here. He then asked me to use his staff car and driver. I thanked him again, telling him how much I appreciated what he had done for John and myself but would like to take a little time before meeting my family. The way I felt right now, I was not completely ready to meet with them. Now I knew why John wanted me to go home with him - he was frightened and so was I. Sometime later in the evening I caught a cab and started for the house, 1320 South Canton Street - home.

            On the way home I talked with the cab driver and told him where I had been, for how long, etc.. When we arrived in front of the house, there were no lights, the house was dark, it was about midnight, I started to get out of the car and couldn't do it. I asked the driver to take me somewhere and give me a little time. We went to a local club and had a couple of refreshments, we talked, I guess I was looking for courage and for what, I can not explain the problem I was having. After another pass by the house, a little more time, I ask the driver to drive by, drop me off, and leave. We then went by, he let me out, wished me luck and off he went. (Much later I discussed this problem with other members of my outfit and it seems that within reason, all of us experienced this same problem).

            When I rang the doorbell, I believe it was Ruby, my younger sister, that came to the door. After her, it was Mom, then I don't know who else but the entire house seemed to come alive with excitement. My fears were still with me. Dad was at work and someone called him at the Police Station. He came in a hurry. Dad did one thing that I will always remember. He remembered that as a youngster at home, I liked bananas, so, on his way home, he stopped by an all night market and brought home a bag of bananas for me. Little did he know that in the jungles of the Philippines, during the closing days of the war before the Philippines fell. We spent a considerable amount of time in the jungle and during this time, bananas were about all we could find to eat. I no longer had the desire for bananas I had as a youngster at home. However, his gesture was an expression of his love for me. He felt he had to bring me something. It was always difficult for Dad to express love but I knew this was his way of telling me he loved me. I appreciated his gesture very much. This placed me at home around the 20th of October 1945. I do not remember the exact date.

            Everything seemed strange to me. I knew I was home, everyone was doing their very best to make me welcome. I knew my family, I knew them by name but they were different. They knew me, they knew me by my name but I too was different. They were not the people they were when I left home and I was not the same person that left home some years before. We were strangers - over these past six years all of us have gone through so many changes. In my mind I was the same individual and am certain they felt the same way - it was apparent they could not understand me. There were so many things that were unknown to me. This is something that we had to deal with but how. Only time can answer this question.

            There is one single thought that kept running through my mind: "I was a free man in a free world" - "I was in a strange world with a strange family but I was free". I had dreamed of and looked forward to this day for so long that it was unbelievable that this day had really arrived. I thought of other members of my outfit and wondered if they were having the same problem - found out later that it was the same. I was also grateful to my Father in Heaven for allowing me to return home, many prayers had been answered and I knew it. I looked at my mother and wondered how many nights she had set up, how many tears she had shed, how many time she had looked out in the darkness and wondered where I was. This is also true of my dad - it must have been very difficult for him for he was the one that signed a piece of paper allowing me to enlist in the Army before I reached age twenty. I wondered how many times he would have liked to take my place, wherever I was. Dad was never one to express his love in voice but he has expressed his love for me in looks and deeds and I love them both, my mother and dad.

Note:

            The following statistics were published in the "QUAN", a news magazine published by the American Defenders of Bataan and Corregidor, Inc., vol 45, number 3, dtd Nov 1990:

            American military personnel captured by the Japanese in the Pacific Ocean area             25,600.

            American military personnel killed or died after capture by the Japanese                         10,650.

            American military personnel liberated by or rejoining U. S. Forces                                  14,950.

 

            The number of prisoners-of-war who died while in transit to the slave labor camps in Japan is staggering. Records reveal that over 3,800 Americans perished on these Hell Ships. The "Shinyo Maru" sank off the coast of Mindanao, Philippines, with 83 survivors, 668 dead. The "Arisan Maru" sank off Formosa in October 1944, 8 survivors, 1,795 dead. The "Oryoko Maru" sank of Bataan Peninsula, Luzon, Philippines, prisoners were transferred to "Brazil Maru" at Lingayan, Philippines, and later to the "Enuri Maru" from Formosa to Moji, Japan. This trip lasted 47 days and cost an average of 23 American POW deaths per day.

Clark Field 1967