Blood Brothers: A Medic's Sketch Book

by Eugene C. Jacobs

Chapter II

THE ORANGE PLAN (WPO III)

Dee. 23, 1941 (my wedding anniversary): Finally, orders arrived from
USAFFE Headquarters in Manila: "ORANGE PLAN III IS NOW IN EFFECT!
EVACUATE CAMP JOHN HAY! PROCEED TO JOIN FIL-AMERICAN FORCES IN BATAAN!
MACARTHUR".

The Japanese forces controlled both roads leading from Baguio to Bataan. The only available exits from Baguio were over rugged mountains, some a mile high. The nearest road leading to Bataan that still might be open was through Balete Pass, fifty miles to the southeast.

I worried about feeding my medical detachment (two Army nurses and thirty enlisted personnel) following along behind the companies of the 43rd Infantry of Scouts. I told Col. Horan that I would like my detachment to be the "point" that would lead the way through to Bataan. To my surprise, he seemed pleased and agreed. I told him, "I'm ready to move out!" He answered,

"OK!"

Our medics quickly mounted hospital transportation and drove down the southeast road into the valley, past the entrance to the Antomoc Gold Mine and on to the end of the pavement. As we abandoned our vehicles, we disabled them so the Japanese would be unable to use them. We then placed our first-aid materials and my little medical bag on litters, and started up the trail at a rather rapid pace. In the hot sun we soon became exhausted and realized we would have to go slower and rest frequently.

About three hours up the trail, we came upon Associated Press Correspondent Clark Lee trudging along. Resting with him on the path for a few minutes, we swapped stories; he reported: "Lingayen city has been bombed! Many Filipinos are fleeing south through the central plains with all their belongings. I came up to Baguio yesterday; soldiers had dynamite boxes ready to blow the bridges on the Naguillian Trail. I saw Major Ganahl and asked him what happened to our North Luzon Forces. Joe answered, 'Hell! We are the North Luzon Forces!"

We never saw Clark Lee again, but later learned that he found a short-cut through St. Nicholas and Tayug to the central plain, where he had a brush with the Japs on his way to Bataan. He proved an old saying, "He travels fastest who travels alone!" He later wrote a very interesting book about his experiences in the Philippines, "They Call It Pacific."

Our two nurses were having difficulty keeping up with the troops on the steep and often narrow trails. Our equipment was becoming too heavy to carry; little by little, it fell by the wayside: litters, gas masks, helmets, pup tents, tarps, blankets, mosquito nets, etc. As we moved up the mountains, we noticed natives using mirrors to signal planes. We didn't know whether they were trying to blind the pilots or wave them away. Two more fatiguing hours and we reached the large Lusod Saw Mill, operated' by the American Jorgensen family.

A soldier came running up the path; he shouted, "Col. Horan has had a heart attack!" Back down the trail I went for about an hour, when I found the colonel in agony beside the path. A quarter of morphine, a swallow of whiskey and an hour's rest revived him enough to continue.

The Jorgensen family were gracious hosts; they had apparently been stocking up on food for several months, getting ready for this day. They shared their Christmas dinner with us-our last warm meal.

Because the mountains were so rugged, we decided that tile nurses should remain with the Jorgensens to share their fate, along with several American miners' wives, who were joining them-to sit out the war.

The Jorgensens still had telephone service to their friends in Baguio. From them, we learned that many of the Japanese civilian prisoners, whom we had interned at Camp John Hay, when liberated by the Japanese-army, were putting on uniforms, private to colonel, and joining the occupying forces. The invading army had government money, already printed, when they arrived. When the Jap soldiers presented their "play" money to the Filipinos in order to buy food, the natives laughed and said, "No good in this country!" They soon learned that it was backed up by the full faith of the Japanese bayonet. There were many tales of Japanese treachery.

Yet, the Japs pretended to be friendly to the Filipino. They would say, "Look the color of our skin is the same! We promise

you early liberation from the Americans, and in the near future, we give your country independence." The Japs turned their hospitality and hostility on and off like a faucet.

The Japs insisted that the natives take off their big straw hats and bow deeply each time they encountered a Japanese soldier. This was not the Filipinos' idea of independence and freedom. They'd had it much better with the Americans. We later learned that in most every barrio, especially in Mindanao, a Japanese store owner put on a uniform, when liberated, and took charge of the barrio.

Christmas evening, we were informed that Manila had been declared an "open city." U.S. troops were actively moving toward Bataan and Corregidor. We also heard that seven thousand Jap forces had made a landing at Lamon Bay, east of Manila. Major General George Parker's South Luzon Forces were opposing the landing. It was estimated that the Japanese had an invasion force of more than 150,000 men in the Philippines. Rumors were that "Help is on the Way."

Dec. 26, 1941: Telling the Jorgensens and their lady guests, "Many thanks, and the best of luck," we hit the mountain trail, climbing steep paths to high passes and then sliding down the other side. At night we slept near streams and awakened soaked with dew. After several hours of sunshine we would dry out. We quickly learned of some new inconveniences: ants, spiders, tics, mosquitoes, and sunburn. We were invited to sleep in native huts, but the smoke from their open fires was so strong-burning our eyes-that we had to move outside.

In three days we had reached a small village in the valley, Aritao. Overhead a Japanese plane was observing our activities. We decided to push on to Balete Pass, where we located a quaint hotel nestled in the mountains. Here we could get food and lodging. Up to this time we had been paying for any services received, but now with the money running low, we realized we'd have to exist on the mercy of the natives.

In the hotel we met the American owner of the Red Line Bus Co. of Tuguegarao, who was taking his Filipino family to Manila in a big open truck filled with his belongings. He had room for ten soldiers.

Dec. 29, 1941: Early in the morning, our group, sitting amid the baggage in the back of the Red Line truck, was cruising down the highway toward San Jose. A car with a Jap flag on top passed us going north.

Shortly, the Jap car was back minus the Japanese flag on top. It came to a screeching halt as our truck had the road blocked. For a few seconds the Japs and our medics just stared at each other probably expecting gunfire. Nothing happened! My unarmed medics had the Japs surrounded! I had my .45 pistol, but knew if I reached for it, we'd all be mowed down. Stepping forward, I motioned the Jap car into the ditch and around the truck. They accepted the escape route; in a big hurry, they were roaring down the road.

We thanked the Red Line Bus family for the lift and instructed them,
"Turn around and get back up in the mountains. Best of luck!"

My medics and I climbed down a steep bank to the east, crossed over a wide, rocky, river bottom keeping our ten paces between men-and entered a thick jungle. Within ten minutes, several Japanese tanks rumbled to a stop on the road, where our truck had been parked, turned their machine guns toward the jungles and sprayed the area. Bellies to the earth, we waited and prayed as the bullets slashed through the forests. We continued to hug the ground for several hours until we were sure the Japs had departed.

We moved deeper into the dense jungle, up an old trail. Suddenly, we could hear crackling footsteps all around us we were surrounded! We froze! I reached for my .45, hoping to get one of them before they got us. Thirty pairs of eyes were focused on us. Large monkeys! As startled as we were, they scampered off, chattering to themselves. I examined my .45; the clip was gone; there was just one bullet left-the one in the chamber. I would save that for myself if things got really bad.

We continued on up the trail to the top of a mountain, where we could get a good view of the central plain below. San Jose was in flames. Across the valley, Clark Field was burning fiercely; two large columns of dense black smoke from oil fires. There were also fires at Cabanatuan, Manila and Cavite.

General Wainwright's withdrawing North Luzon Forces had blown many bridges on their way south to Bataan. It was very evident that the enemy occupied most of the central plain-and was apparently harassing the natives. Many of the Filipino homes were in flames.

Toward evening, we sent a disguised medic back down the trail to find a Filipino home and make some arrangements to get

food for the remnants of our detachment-five. We never saw the other medics again.

We could hear the big guns booming on Bataan and Corregidor, 125 miles to the south. We located a hunter's lean-to and camped there for several days. We grew accustomed to the many strange noises in the jungles: birds, monkeys and many other animals, but were having trouble with the ants, spiders and mosquitoes. Camping in the tropics was quite different from camping in the States. In the Philippines every square inch of soil has its menagerie of insects. One of the things I feared the most was being eaten to death if I should be unlucky enough to be wounded.

Each night I thanked God for sparing my life. Our American medic, Al Roholt, carried a pocket New Testament. Within several days each of us had read through it.

We quickly learned that we couldn't eke out an existence in the jungle. There was too much competition. The birds and animals were extremely mobile and agile, getting to any available food much quicker than we could.

The Japanese cavalry and infantry were making daily trips up and down the highway. They entered houses along the road and slapped the Filipinos, demanding, "Where are the Americans?" The natives remained loyal and gave them no information.

Peeking through the bushes at the Jap units going by, I began to wonder why and how studying medicine had gotten me into such a mess.

We had plenty of time to just sit and reflect: We knew the Japanese had designs on U.S., British, French, and Dutch possessions in Southeast Asia. We knew the War Plan Rainbow 5-assumed the Philippines were defensible. We knew the Philippines were not scheduled for any reinforcements, and that its early loss was expected both in the U.S. and in Japan.

It had become quite obvious that the Japs had made landings wherever they chose, and were proceeding to Bataan with very little resistance. We knew that Gen. MacArthur had from 12,000 to 15,000 American troops and about the same number of well-trained Philippine Scouts (P.S.), but the remaining 100,000 Philippine Army (P.A.) troops had less than three months training, and their weapons were for the most part obsolete (World War I vintage).

We had lost much of our aggressive power before the U.S. (Congress) declared war on Japan. We hoped that most of our

troops could get through to Bataan. We could hear the big guns rumbling on Bataan; we hoped they were ours, not the Japanese.

The Japanese cavalry continued to move up and down the highway every day-keeping it open for their purposes. Each squadron of cavalry had several Filipina girls following along on horseback. Natives told us, "Those young girls were seized from their homes along the highway by the Japanese." Then the Filipino families moved their homes back into the jungles from evacuation camps.

The Red Line Bus family sent a guide down from the mountains to lead us to their camp. As soon as it became dark, the five of us started to work our way north, up the rocky river bottom, I in my shoes wrapped in gunny sacks, the soles being completely worn out.

In several hours we were in their evacuation camp. They seemed happy to see us and we were delighted to see them. They lived in a large, open shed in a camp containing one-hundred Filipino families. They were quite well situated beside a small river; they had dug a well in the river bank for their drinking water. They had their own flock of chickens. We were lucky-we ate well for a few days. They had a small radio, capable of getting news from Corregidor and San Francisco. From it we learned that the Japs occupied Manila.

Gen. Wainwright's troops were pouring into Bataan from the north, and Gen. Parker's, from the south. They were trying to establish a defensive line across the base of the peninsula. The Japs were putting out much propaganda such as "Asia for Asiatics" (which really meant "Asia for the Japanese"); and "The Greater East Asia Co-Prosperity Sphere."

We began to hear new terminology from Bataan, such as SNAFU (Situation Normal, All Fouled Up!). There seemed to have been many snafus. Our pilots had received many planes from the States prior to the war that needed Prestone in order to fly. Nowhere in the Philippines could they find any Prestone. Some pilots had to fly planes that had Swedish instruments. Four out of five hand grenades were failing to explode. There was only one rammer rod for fifty-four tanks.

The evacuation camp teniente (town lieutenant) kept me busy every day, visiting the sick in camp. My medicines were rapidly being consumed.

I finally located an old, smooth tire; I cut the rubber in the

shape of the soles of my boots, and patiently sewed them to the uppers; my boots were now good for another hundred miles.

The news from Bataan was bleak: "Front line troops were having difficulty getting any food. The rations had been cut in half because of the thousands of refugee Filipinos fleeing to Bataan along with the troops. Many soldiers were becoming so weak they could hardly hold their rifles. Hospitals I and II were filled with sick and wounded.

On Jan. 26, 1942 a communiqué from San Francisco was received on the radio: "The first American convoy carrying U.S. troops has finally arrived safely in Ireland." We in the Philippines were being completely abandoned. However, it seemed that England would now be able to fight to the "last American!'"

Arrangements were being made by the teniente for a group of Filipinos to go over the mountain to the east of us, to hunt and get food for the camp. I was asked to go along. We started early the next morning. At each little village we would come to, the teniente called out in a loud voice: "Ahhhhhh-Pooooooo! Ahhhhhh-Poooooo!" letting the natives know we were friendly.

By evening we had reached the next valley, where I was informed it was the place where Pres. Theodore Roosevelt and Governor General Leonard Wood had hunted many years before.

I remembered that Gen. Wood had visited our high school, Dr. Nicholas Senn H.S., in Chicago in 1920 and talked to our ROTC classes. I was greatly impressed. Gen. Wood was a doctor (Harvard), who had won the Medal of Honor riding in Roosevelt's Rough Riders in Cuba. He then became Gov. Gen of Cuba at the turn of the century and helped Major Walter Reed conduct his great research, leading to the control of yellow fever. Later he became the only American medical officer to ever become the Chief of Staff of the U.S. Army. I'll never forget how he limped into the auditorium. Rumor had it that he had a wooden leg.

The Filipinos built a fire and soon had our evening meal ready.

As we ate, we could hear deer barking in the mountains, sounding like a dog barking. I had never before known that deer made any kind of a noise. As night approached and a full moon appeared over the mountains, each Filipino selected a suitable cobble stone for use as a pillow. I was satisfied with my small bundle of clothing.

Next morning we were up early, and in several hours had bagged a deer and two wild boars. In the afternoon we hiked

several miles to the southeast to a river near Carranglan, where the teniente threw in a stick or dynamite to stun the fish. Then we all jumped in to capture several of the stunned fish. Each time I came up from a surface dive, all of the Filipinos were laughing.

I asked the teniente, "What is so funny?" He replied, "It is your butt, sir! None of us had ever seen a white butt before, sir!" I was pleased to hear their laughter and was soon laughing myself. None of us had had much to laugh at during the last couple months.

The cargadors (baggage carriers) had quite a struggle carrying the game and fish on their backs over the mountain. I was amazed at their strength and endurance, hour after hour.

We could hear the rumbling of the big guns on Bataan like distant thunder. The evening radio reported a heavy artillery duel; also that MacArthur had received an ultimatum from Gen. Homma, "Gen. MacArthur, you are doomed! I order you to surrender!"

The next day we learned from Filipinos coming down from the north that
"Guerrilla groups are forming in the Cagayan Valley!"

Again we thanked the Red Line Bus Co. family for their hospitality and courtesies. Traveling at night, because the Japanese occupied the roads during the day, we were able to reach a small detachment of soldiers guarding Balete Pass. We spent several hours, learning about the troops at Bambang, Bayombong, Bagabag, and Jones.

The following day we made the long, hot and dusty hike to Bambang, where we found a platoon of soldiers; they had destroyed several large bridges across the Magat River to keep the Japanese cavalry from making their daily excursions. The soldiers informed us that Major Warner was the C.O. of the Guerrillas. Warner and I had to make a survey of Camp Hay after the first bombing, looking for "duds" (bombs that didn't go off). We found one dud that had brass fins on it made out of an old T Ford radiator. We could still see the Ford imprint on it."

After a good night's rest in a real bed, and a native breakfast, we were off to Bagabag and Jones on the old dilapidated truck that must have had 300,000 miles on it. We were soon passing through rice and tobacco fields in the fertile Cagayan Valley.

Chapter III

MACARTHUR'S FIRST GUERRILLA REGIMENT

We arrived at Jones just before dark; it appeared to be a more prosperous barrio than we had seen. There were many nipa shacks, some on stilts and some on the ground.

As we drove into headquarters area, we were greeted by Major Everett Warner, the C.O., and Major Guillermo Nakar, the Executive Officer and the C.O. of Headquarters Battalion. They both seemed pleased to have an American medical officer in the regiment. I also met Captain Warren Minton, C.O. of the 3rd Battalion, which included one squadron of cavalry, and Captain Robert Arnold, in charge of communications. He had brought a two-way radio from the northwest corner of Luzon, where he was with the Air Warning Service. I was introduced to several other American and Filipino officers, and then taken to the officers' mess and fed. The regiment now numbered nearly 1500.

For quarters, I was assigned a small tobacco warehouse, where Major Nakar would be my roommate. He slept in a full-sized brass bed; I slept on bales of tobacco, Tobaccolera, the worlds finest. I didn't smoke, but knew that many soldiers on Bataan were dying for a smoke.

Major Nakar was a short, "smiling roly-poly Filipino officer, who looked about thirty-five, with a big black mustache, curved up at the ends, a twinkle in his black eyes-set deep in a small chubby face. He liked to lay, propped up in bed, and read books about great military leaders such as Napoleon, and the Filipino patriot and idol, Jose Rizal." With a chuckle, he liked to quote Confucius: "Make enemy think you are far away when you are near! Make enemy think you are near when you are far away!"

About Nakar, Capt. Arnold remarked, "He means to get ahead!" After knowing him for a few days, I began to get the feeling that he would someday be President of the Philippines. I asked Major Nakar: "How come this barrio seems to be named, 'Jones,' after an American? I don't know of any other named for an American."

He replied:

"Dr. Jones was a professor from a California university. He came to the Philippines many years ago to make some studies. He lived in this vicinity for a long time. When he finished his work, he announced his departure for the States. The local

Ilongots, an uncivilized tribe of headhunters living in this area, told Dr. Jones, 'We have come to like you and respect you. We do not want you to go, but to stay here with us!' Jones explained that he liked them and appreciated their hospitality, but he had finished his work and must return home.

"With chilling logic, the Ilongots cut off Jones' head so that his spirit might always remain, and named the barrio after him, Jones."

When I learned that "Christian heads" were at a premium, I always kept my .45 and my newly acquired M-l rifle handy.

Supply System: A supply system was organized. Owners of rice mills, farmers and politicians were cooperative-furnishing food, clothing, equipment and even one-hundred small Filipino ponies for our cavalry squadron. For these, they were willing to accept IOU notes-hopefully to be honored by the government after the war.

Communications: A small nipa shack housed our two-way radio set up by Captain Arnold. Contact was established with USAFFE HQ on Corregidor, and a regular time set for transmission. News could be obtained several times each day, making the shack a very popular place. A relay telephone system using existing lines along the highway reached all outposts.

Air Strip: Troops with the help of civilian labor constructed an air strip in the vicinity of Jones, adequate for light planes. It was concealed by placing several portable buildings on it. On two occasions a light plane from Bataan dropped boxes of medicine, ammunition and shoes. This bolstered our morale more than our warehouses. General MacArthur became intensely interested in his first Guerrilla Regiment, probably because things were not going well on Bataan.

Medical Service: As former C.O. of the station hospital at Camp John Hay, I became the Regimental Surgeon and organized a medical service with one dental and four medical officers, all from the Philippine Army, as my assistants. We had a dispensary at the Regimental HQ in Jones and two small hospitals in abandoned schools in neighboring barrios Minuri and Dibulwan hopefully out of bombing range.

In the absence of a regular source of medical supplies, our treatment was often quite primitive. We were able to get some medicines and surgical instruments from local hospitals, but only after the Japanese had raided them. Local physicians and civilians

gave freely of their time and care.

Since malaria was prevalent in the Cagayan Valley, our anti-malarial drugs were quickly consumed. Under the guidance of native officers, the bark of certain tall trees was gathered and boiled in water. The resulting extraction caused cessation of active malaria symptoms for a few days, and then had to be repeated. A similar potion was made from the bark of guava bushes, and was reputed to relieve diarrhea. We were fortunate that most Filipinos seemed to have considerable immunity against tropical diseases; our morbidity rates were low.

Our visits to the hospitals were frequently made on horseback.

As I rode along the trails, little Filipinos, noting my King George V beard, often amused me by doffing their big straw hats, bowing low and saying, "Buenos Dias, Padre!" For security reasons, and to keep rumors to a minimum, many of our trips were made after dark.

When patrols were going our on the prowl, medical aid men went along, carrying small amounts of medicines and bandages. Local physicians were used whenever possible. Civilians were very good to our sick and wounded, taking them into their homes and caring for them until they could travel, in spite of threats by the Japs.

Efforts were made to care for all sick and wounded civilians in our areas of operation. This paid dividends in many ways. It was the friendliness of the Filipinos that paved the way for MacArthur's eventual invasion of Luzon. Most of the time there was no question of loyalty among the Filipinos.

Diet and Sanitation: Our diet was good-obtained from the fertile farms and haciendas of the Cagayan Valley. When possible, water was obtained from the deep wells in each barrio. Most Filipinos were familiar with crude sand filter, made by digging shallow wells a few feet back on river banks.

Pit latrines were dug whenever troops remained in an area for more than a few hours. We had no venereal problems. The majority of Filipinos were good "family" people.

Tuguegarao Air Field Raid: Captain Minton selected some of his outstanding Scouts for his patrol. Under cover of darkness, Minton and his men surrounded the Japanese barracks at the Tuguegarao Air Field, killed some one-hundred Japanese soldiers as they emerged, and destroyed two planes on the ground.

MacArthur was delighted! He promptly decorated the patrol

and promoted Majors Warner and Nakar to Lt. Cols. and Minton to Major.

The following communiqué was quickly announced from Corregidor: "One of General MacArthur's guerrilla bands, operating in the Cagayan Valley in northern Luzon, scored a brilliant local success in a surprise raid on a hostile airdrome at Tuguegarao. The Japanese were taken completely by surprise and fled in confusion leaving 110 dead on the field. Approximately three hundred others were put to flight. Our losses were very light."

MacArthur said, "If Bataan should fall, I'd consider joining the guerrillas myself."

Patrols: Our patrols and outposts harassed the enemy until they withdrew from the Cagayan Valley late in March. One battalion pursued the Japs to Balete Pass, where they set up defense positions. Telephone and courier services were quickly established.

The patrols continued to make raids on enemy held barrios. Normally two soldiers (former townsmen when possible) entered the selected barrio as civilians with produce to sell or trade. After making the necessary observations as to the habits of the enemy, they would leave. The following dawn, they would cut the telephone lines at each end of town, and then attack the enemy barracks. Usually food, supplies and equipment could be obtained, in addition to disrupting Japanese activities. Any injured soldiers who' could not continue with the raiding party were cared for by a local civilian family.

Politicians: Riding our horses into town, Col. Nakar and I met frequently with provincial governors, mayors and engineers to discuss mutual problems. We helped them police their areas and they helped us obtain supplies. When a politician became jittery, thinking of possible punishments if he should be captured, we had to replace him with a stable official.

We were able to get permission from President Quezon on Corregidor to print "emergency money" to pay the regiment and to purchase the supplies. The actual printing of the money was done by the provincial treasurer.

In late February, 1942, President Roosevelt announced that there could be no attempt to relieve the Philippines. Actually no reinforcements had reached the Philippines since the first bombing.

Roosevelt directed MacArthur to transfer his headquarters from Corregidor to Australia. On March 11th, MacArthur and his family, and some of his staff departed on P.T. boats.

Spanish friends: On Sundays, when things became quiet, Guillermo Nakar and I liked to ride our horses to a Spanish hacienda across the Cagayan River to spend several hours "away" from the war. We crossed the river in long bancas (dugout canoes) and swam our horses behind us, at times fending off rather large crocodiles.

Since Spain was a neutral country, the Japanese did not bother the
Spaniards very much, except indirectly. The Spaniards grew fine
fruits, vegetables and tobacco. They ate and lived well; Guillermo and
I enjoyed sharing a good meal with them.

On my last visit to the hacienda, I gave the Spaniards my movie camera, Hamilton watch, fountain pen, and a pearl ring I had bought for Judy, for "safekeeping" until the war was over.

About one year after the end of the war, I received them in poor condition (being buried in the moist ground) from a Spanish priest, who probably had had great difficulty in locating me; (he wanted money to help him build a new church).

14th Infantry, Philippine Army: On April 1, 1942, USAFFE HQ on Corregidor seemed to have learned that guerrilla type warfare was not in accord with the rules of land warfare. Our regiment received a new title-we were the" 14th Infantry of the Philippine Army." Our regiment now controlled the Cagayan Valley, from Tuguegarao in the north to Balete Pass in the south, and from Kiangan in the west to Palanan and Casiguran ports on the east coast.

Bataan: The Bataan situation was becoming desperate; rations had been cut a second time. Soldiers in foxholes were having trouble getting food. The 26th Cavalry was eating its horses. The 65th Pack Train was eating its mules. Other soldiers ate trapped dogs, monkeys, lizards; in fact most anything they could catch.

On Good Friday, 1942, General Homma opened up with his biggest offensive-all his artillery supported by heavy bombing.

The front line of General Lim's 41st Division was pulverized. Nearly 100,000 seasoned Jap troops were overrunning the cadaverous defenders of the "American Way of Life." A few terrified and bedraggled remnants of the native companies were managing to filter back.

General Edward (Ned) King's 11th Division was too exhausted

to plug holes in the 41st Division. The Japs were now penetrating in large numbers.

On April 8, Gen. King called all his officers together; he tried to spare his starved, diseased, wounded, and exhausted troops such things as marching to internment camps; he requested conditions of surrender:

1. A four-hour armistice.

2. Japanese forces to remain in present positions during armistice.

3. Consideration be given for sick and wounded soldiers and civilians.

4. That U.S. Army transportation be used to carry sick and wounded to any internment camp that the Japanese General may direct. General Homma's Chief of Staff shouted, "Yuo vill sullendah unconitionarry!"

Bataan Falls: On April 9, 1942, starvation, disease and the ubiquitous Japanese caused the collapse of Bataan. General King became the first U.S. general ever forced to surrender his command to an enemy. He referred to his "heroes of Bataan" as follows: "Courage is a quality God has seen fit to dispense with utmost care. He limits it to His special favorites. He knows they will reward Him well, using the power with dignity, strength and distinction. The men of Bataan and Corregidor were His chosen favorites. They walked through unbearable hell and labored on-under conditions that history had never recorded. When they were supposed to be dead, these men of honor rose again-to battle a cruel enemy with this intangible weapon."

"When history of the Second World War is fully written, Americans will thrill to the story of the 'Defenders of Bataan and Corregidor!'"

The fall of Bataan ended any possibility of getting supplies for the 14th Infantry; our patrols had only three rounds of ammunition per man. We became quite depressed over the surrender of Bataan; we knew many of our friends there must be dead, wounded or suffering from starvation and many diseases.

Shortly we received the following order from Corregidor: "CUT STRENGTH OF 14TH INFANTRY TO 600! WAINWRIGHT." This was a big blow to the whole regiment.

Thousands of Japs were massed at Balete Pass and moving north into the Cagayan Valley. Our patrols kept us posted. Col. Warner, becoming frustrated and trying to determine what

positive effort could be made toward winning the war by his remaining troops, noted that the 14th Infantry held two valuable ports at Casiguran and Palanan. He took Major Minton and some Scouts across the Sierra Madre mountains to the Pacific coast to explore possibilities. He considered finding or building a good pier for supplies to be brought in; he looked for suitable beaches for landing craft in the event of an invasion and as a last resort, boats that could carry personnel to China.

The Japanese troops were advancing on Echague, some fifteen miles from Jones. Guillermo was fearful lest the Japanese locate the regimental radio by triangulation of transmission waves. Guillermo and I, with several Scouts, got into two bancas and worked our way up the Cagayan River through a series of rapids to Pinippigan, where we spent the night. The following day, with the barrio teniente, we looked for places to hide the radio if it became necessary.

When we returned to Jones, we discharged nine hundred soldiers, to be sent home, to grease and hide their rifles, to hide their uniforms and equipment, and to become civilian farmers. They soon earned the reputation, "farmers daytime-soldiers nighttime."

Corregidor, the "Rock": With the fall of Bataan, the Japanese moved their heavy artillery right into the grounds of our Army hospitals on Bataan-to concentrate their massive barrages on Corregidor-without fear of retaliation from the big guns on Corregidor. The shelling and bombing became relentless for several weeks.

On May 5th, as the Japanese barges were approaching Corregidor,
General Wainwright offered to surrender to General Homma, who replied,
"Imperial Japanese Army and Navy are only prepared to accept surrender
of all American and Filipino troops in whole Archipelago - Homma."

One of the last messages to come from Corregidor: "Major Eugene C.
Jacobs, M.C., transferred to command of Col. John Horan in Mountain
Province north of Baguio."

I reasoned, "Maybe his heart is giving him trouble and he feels the need of a doctor." My weight was down from 165 to 120 pounds. I had had amoebic dysentery for several months and had lost considerable strength. I didn't relish traveling some one hundred to 150 miles through areas held by the Japanese, to learn that Col. Horan had already surrendered to the Japanese.

(Later I learned that this is exactly what happened. He surrendered on
May 14, 1942).

Corregidor Falls: With the silencing of the big guns and the radio on
Corregidor on May 6th, we found ourselves unable to contact any ally.
In a matter of hours, we picked up the voice of General Wainwright
over the Japanese radio in Manila: "WE ARE 8,000 MILES FROM THE UNITED
STATES. THERE HAS BEEN AND WILL BE NO REINFORCEMENTS. FURTHER
RESISTANCE AND BLOODSHED ARE USELESS.

I ORDER ALL FIL-AMERICAN FORCES IN THE PHILIPPINES TO LAY DOWN ARMS AND TO SURRENDER! WAINWRIGHT."

We were quite sure that Wainwright was being pressured by the Japanese to make his broadcast. We questioned whether or not a captured general still had the authority to issue orders to his former "unsurrendered" command.

Transfer to Mountain Province: Trying to be a good soldier, I prepared to make my transfer to Col. Horan's Guerrilla Unit. I obtained a good guide and a strong horse. I told the officers and men of the 14th Infantry, "Good-bye and good luck." We started north.

After several days on the trail, the guide and I reached a small barrio east of Ilagan. Natives told us Ilagan was occupied by Japanese.

As I was bedding down in a small native shack, a Filipino quietly crept up to my bed, and said, "Sir! I am an emissary from General Aguinaldo in Palanan. Sir! General Aguinaldo wants to hide you from the Japanese for the duration of the war."

I was delighted; this seemed like the answer to a prayer. I had no idea where Aguinaldo had ever heard of me, or why he was interested in me. We did have one thing in common we were both doctors. I learned several things about Aguinaldo: he had been mayor of a small barrio. When the Americans took the Philippines from the Spanish in 1899, Aguinaldo appointed himself the President of the Philippines and led an insurgent army of 40,000 against the Americans and fought a long and bloody war.

Aguinaldo was finally captured in Palanan by Gen. Fred Funston; he was brought to Manila as a prisoner, where he swore an oath of allegiance to the United States and became a good friend. The Military Governor, Gen. Arthur MacArthur, the

father of Gen. Douglas MacArthur, treated Aguinaldo as an honored guest in the Malacanong Palace in Manila.

General Aguinaldo's emissary told me to meet him the following day at a Spanish hacienda, the Buen-venida, near the barrio of San Mariano, about thirty miles to the south. He would lead me over the Sierra Madre Mountains to Palanan and General Aguinaldo.

The next morning the guide and I started south-attempting to find the designated hacienda. After riding all day, we finally arrived at a hacienda, but not the Buen-venida. When I inquired as to the direction to Buen-venida, the Spanish owner asked me:

"Did you come to surrender?" I answered with a very positive, "No!" He said, "Col. Warner and Major Minton are here with their staff-from Palanan." I answered, "I would like to see them!"

As I greeted Col. Warner and Major Minton, in walked another American from a different direction. Lt. Col. Theodore Kalakuka, QMC, Gen Wainwright's G-4 from Manila, saying, "I've been sent here by General Wainwright." Ted had arrived in a Jap plane from Manila with a Japanese pass. He continued, "He has ordered all Fil-American troops to surrender. If any unit does not surrender, all of the captives on Corregidor will be severely punished (probably slaughtered!)" For my benefit, he continued, "There are thousands of Americans in internment camps that are extremely sick and desperately in need of medical care. Any American who does not surrender will be considered a deserter of the United States Army!" (Several weeks later, Ted died of cerebral malaria while looking for Americans who had not surrendered.)

Col. Warner pointed out to our officers that "the Japanese have a
bounty on each of our heads. It is the beginning of the rainy season.
There is a great scarcity of food. The Japanese have warned the
Filipinos that anyone caught helping Americans would be executed. The
Filipinos can no longer afford to be friendly to Americans."

Chapter IV

COL. WARNER SURRENDERS THE 14th INFANTRY

(June 20, 1942)

Col. Warner officially surrendered the 14th Inf. to the Japanese on June 20th. The following day our group walked down to the river and obtained a guide and several bancas. We spent the day coasting down the river to Ilagan. On the way down, I decided that no American would be killed by my .45; I dropped it in the river.

In Ilagan, we hiked several blocks to a Japanese barracks, knocked on the door and tried to explain to some ignorant soldiers that "we had come to surrender!" We were about as welcome as a vacuum cleaner salesman. With little planning we could have "wiped them out." We were finally directed to an empty house across the street to spend the night, sleeping on the floor.

The next day we hired a Filipino caratella (pony cart) and rode about fifty miles to Echague where we repeated the surrender process at a cavalry barracks. Six of us Americans soon found ourselves sleeping on the concrete floor of the guard house of the old Constabulary Barracks, west of Echague. Our hosts were a squadron of Japanese cavalry-probably the same squadron we used to watch going up and down the highway.

Echague was the town where Guillermo Nakar and I had frequent conferences with the Governor and provincial officials. We were only fifteen miles from the radio shack, where Nakar was persisting in his efforts to contact Gen. MacArthur.

I didn't get to Palanan to meet General Aguinaldo! I have often wondered how different my life might have been-sitting out the war with Aguinaldo.

Guests of a Japanese Cavalry Squadron: For one month, we six Americans were assigned to perform all of the unpleasant chores of the squadron, pumping water by hand, preparing vegetables, burying garbage, etc. We were pleased when we heard through the "bamboo telegraph" (rumors whispered to us by the natives selling us bananas and coconut cookies) that the government officials that we had appointed had been accepted by the Japanese. We knew that they would maintain a certain loyalty to the United States.

The Japs called us "captives," not P.O.W.s. Each morning and each evening, we had to stand formation with the squadron­

facing east repeating an allegiance to the Emperor (we substituted our own words, which we deemed more appropriate).

Nakar Successful: About the 4th of July, Col. Nakar succeeded in contacting Australia. I quote from Gen. MacArthur's book, Reminiscences: "After the fall of Corregidor and the Southern Islands, organized resistance to the Japanese in the Philippines had supposedly come to an end. In reality, it never ended. Unfortunately for some time, I could learn nothing of these activities. A deep pall of silence settled over the whole archipelago.

"Two months after the fall of Manila Bay Defenses, a brief and pathetic message from a weak sending station on Luzon was brought to me. Short as it was, it lifted the curtain of silence and uncertainty, and disclosed the start of a human drama with few parallels in military history. The words of that message warmed my heart: 'YOUR RETURN IS THE NIGHTLY SUBJECT OF PRAYER IN EVERY FILIPINO HOME! - NAKAR.'

"I had acquired a force behind the Japanese lines that would
have far-reaching effect on the war in the days to come.

"Unhappily, the sender of that first message, Lt. Col. Guillermo
Nakar, a former battalion commander of the 14th Infantry of the
Philippine Forces, was caught by the Japanese, tortured and beheaded.
The word passed from island to island, and from barrio to barrio. From
Aparri in the north to Zamboango in the south the fire of resistance
to the invader spread. Whole divisions of Japanese troops that the
Emperor badly needed elsewhere, deployed against phantom units."

Before Nakar's untimely capture, he had received the following
message: "THE COURAGEOUS AND SPLENDID RESISTANCE MAINTAINED BY YOU AND
YOUR COMMAND FILLS ME WITH PRIDE AND SATISFACTION - Stop. IT WILL BE
MY PRIVILEGE TO SEE THAT YOU AND YOUR OFFICERS AND MEN ARE PROPERLY
REWARDED AT THE APPROPRIATE TIME - Stop. MY AFFECTIONS AND BEST
WISHES. MACARTHUR."

Within a few weeks we learned that an unfaithful Filipino had betrayed Col. Nakar. The Nipponese had captured him and the regimental radio in a mountain cave near Jones, and had taken him to the old Spanish Fort Santiago in Manila where they threw him in a dungeon to face starvation, thirst, water rats, the ingenious system of Japanese questioning and torture by the Kempie Tai Qapanese Secret Police), and finally beheading.

Col. Nakar's short war was far from fruitless. His tender years did not prevent him from becoming a "champion of liberty!" His message to MacArthur actually signaled the end of Allied defeats and withdrawals, and the beginning of an unbroken series of crushing defeats for the Japanese Empire. It kept "Freedom's Flame" burning brightly throughout the Philippines and gave the Filipinos the necessary strength and courage to resist-and finally to defeat the invaders. Col. Nakar's "Brief and pathetic message from the Cagayan Valley" gave MacArthur the reassurance he needed:

To plan his aggressive warfare;

To fulfill his pledge to the Filipino people: "I shall return!"

and

To know he had a friendly base from which to attack Japan.

MacArthur's First Guerrilla Regiment (later the 14th Inf.) had produced a much needed diversion for the hard-pressed forces on Bataan and Corregidor. Thirty months later, these same guerrillas of the 14th Inf. played an important part under the brilliant leadership of Col. Russell Volckmann in assisting MacArthur's invasion of Luzon at Lingayen Gulf on January 9th, 1945.

MacArthur stated, "The guerrillas had been busy ever since receiving my orders 'to open up!' They cut telephone wires and otherwise disrupted Japanese communications. They blew up bridges and mined roads; they blocked supplies to the front lines; they smashed patrols and burned ammunition dumps. Their shining bolos began to turn red. I estimated that Col. Volckmann's northern Luzon guerrillas accomplished the purposes of practically a front line division."

(Still nine months later, these same guerrillas helped Col. Volckmann at Kiangan-both defeat and capture Japan's distinguished General Tomoyuki Yamashita, the "Tiger of Malaya." The Tiger was quite amazed and chagrined to find his veteran troops both surrounded and beaten by guerrillas in the northern Mountain Province.

On September 2, 1945, General Yamashita surrendered to Col. Volckmann
at Kianhgan. The following day, Sept. 3rd, he surrendered to General
Wainwright at the High Commissioner's mansion at Camp John Hay, ending
World War II in the Philippine Islands. Yamashita was then taken to
Bilibid Prison

in Manila to await war crime trials.

In December, 1941, some of the newly recruited Filipino soldiers '"broke and ran" for the mountains when the big guns were fired from the cruisers and destroyers in Lingayen Bay, but in 1945, these same Filipinos were ideally suited for guerrilla warfare; they thoroughly enjoyed twisting the "Tail of the Tiger." "This was their kind of war!" Actually Japan never conquered the Philippine Islands, nor did they ever gain the friendship of the Filipinos.

The Nipponese merely occupied some of the larger cities and controlled the main roads for three years, during which time they established much ill-will of the Filipinos, only serving to strengthen the resistance movements. Who could have ever dreamed that World War II in the Philippines would both begin and end at Camp John Hay, a Rest and Recreation Center?

Captives on the Move - July 20, 1942: Six of us the American captives, guests of the Japanese cavalry squadron stationed in Echague Constabulary Barracks in Isabella were placed aboard a charcoal burning truck, with a half dozen Jap guards, bound for an internment camp.

When we reached Bambang, our truck stopped to pick up a junior Japanese officer, who was being transferred to another area. The Nips wanted to give him a big send-off; they had gathered and instructed a group of Filipino children to express their great fondness for the officer by waving Japanese flags, by shouting: "Banzai, Banzai, Banzai!" and by presenting the officer with a small bouquet.

The performance was quite dull, until one of the children discovered the Americans in the back of the truck. The little faces brightened and broke into smiles; "V" signs began to appear, followed by a chorus of "Hello, Joe! Hello, Joe! Hello, Joe; Mabuhay, Joe!" The Japs were plenty irked and hurried the truck down the highway.

In the early afternoon we passed through the barrio where we had encountered the Japanese Chevy and tanks seven months before. Shortly we passed through San Jose and on to the central plains.

About one mile before reaching the internment camp at Cabanatuan, we suddenly became aware of a horrible, acrid stench, the smell of disease, dysentery and death.

Chapter V

JAPANESE PRISONER OF WAR CAMP NO1, CABANATUAN

Toward evening we arrived at the gate-made of slender poles and barbed wire-which I immediately recognized as one of the camps built prior to the war to house a division of the Philippine Army. It was located on several hundred acres of treeless wasteland (formerly rice paddies) near the foothills of the Sierra Madre Mountains. It consisted of some one hundred cantonment type barracks with walls of nipa and roofs of swali and cogan grass.

Within the barbed wire enclosure, many of the seven thousand half-naked, starved bodies, the "captives," slowly milled about camp. In the several guard towers along the fence, sentries closely scrutinized their movements. The arrival of our old truck and its handful of new captives were scarcely noted in camp.

I made my "duty calls" on Col. D. J. Rutherford, C.A.C.,

Camp Commander, on Lt. Col. Leo Pacquet, Group II Commander, and Col. Gillespie, Medical C. O. Group II Dispensary proved to be a small, twenty by twenty foot grass shack. In one corner was my two-by six foot bamboo slat bed for the next several months.

Although my weight was down from 165 to 120 pounds because of amoebic dysentery, I was still relatively active and in fair health. How lucky I had been to have missed the starvation, the many diseases, the battles and bombings on Bataan and Corregidor, and most of all, the "Death March," which had taken so many thousands of lives, "slaughtered by the Japs."

"Thank you God!" became my frequent and fervent prayer.

Shortages: The first shortage of which I became aware was water. The deep well in camp required diesel fuel or coconut oil to run the engine-to pump the water to a central water tower, from which it went to one outlet in each group and each mess hall, and several outlets in the hospital. Since fuel was always in short supply, there was usually a shortage of water. By standing in line for an hour, I obtained my first canteen of water (which could only be used for drinking). Baths were obtained by standing under the eaves on rainy days. Fortunately the rainy season was beginning.

Chow: The evening meal was my introduction to the diet. I had been warned that I would only need my canteen cup for dinner. After waiting in a long line, I received one half cup of lugao (a thin watery rice soup) and some foul tasting greens, a very skimpy meal compared to those I enjoyed with the guerrillas chicken, eggs, pork, fruits, and vegetables.

As the days went by, the diet did not improve just lugao and greens day after day. On a rare occasion a small amount of mongo beans or corn might be added.

About once a month, a carabao (water buffalo) was killed and added to the soup for from 6,000 to 12,000 captives, after the Japs had removed all of the choice cuts. We believed ourselves lucky when we could find a shred or two of meat in the soup.

Our captors reasoned that slow starvation would make us too weak to resist authority or to attempt to escape. To further insure our servility, the Japanese divided us into groups of ten "blood brothers." If one attempted to escape, the other nine would be severely punished. Recaptured escapees were paraded around camp by American guards for twenty four hours and then used for bayonet practice by the trainees and Koreans.

First Night: During the first night in camp, I spent several hours walking under the stars, just thinking. Life had been much better with the guerrillas; I was free to go many places not occupied by the Japs. I ate much better.

But what was done was done! There was no question that the captives in Cabanatuan P.O.W. Camp needed all of the medical care I could give them. From that point of view, I reasoned that I was in the right place. .

I wondered if Judy could see the same stars that I could the hunter and his two dogs, and the Southern Cross. When we lived in Garden Court (near Nichol's Air Field), we used to delight in watching the moon and the stars shimmering in Manila Bay. It seemed a lifetime ago.

Apparitions: The next morning, some three hundred pathetic, skeletonized human beings, Americans, lined up in front of Group II Dispensary, all hoping for miracles. Several of the patients recognized me from Manila, where I had treated them at Sternberg Army Hospital, or the dispensaries of the 57th Infantry Regiment, or the 14th Engineer Regiment at Fort McKinley.

With their shaven heads and their considerable weight losses, I had great difficulty in recognizing them. These were the pitiful survivors from Bataan and Corregidor, the "Battling Bastards of

Bataan," and the remnants of the "Death March." One by one I listened to their stories and tried to help them.

Since there was very little medicine to give out, most of the therapy had to be improvised. Those with dysentery were told to take a teaspoon of charcoal from the mess hall stoves after each meal, and to sleep on the right side so not to irritate the sigmoid colon. They were to wash their hands after each trip to the latrine in spite of water shortages.

Malaria patients were given one quinine tablet after each chill hoping to alleviate symptoms. There was never enough to attempt a cure.

Both "wet" and "dry" beriberi cases were prevalent. There were no vitamins to treat them. We tried to make yeast cultures; the process was too slow, and we could never see that the cultures did any good. Hundreds of beriberi cases died each month.

Scurvy came on suddenly in large numbers of captives several times each year. When we could persuade the Japs to obtain a lime or two for each captive, the cures were remarkable.

Nightly Toll: Each day we transferred the most seriously ill patients to the hospital, where there were small amounts of extra food. In spite of the daily transfers, each night several captives died in the barracks. Many of the captives refused to go to the hospital seeing it as the last stop before death.

Mess Halls: There were eleven mess halls in camp-each with one or two large concrete stoves at one end. Large iron caldrons held the rice or soup to be cooked. During the rainy season, there were serious problems getting the wood to burn.

It often appeared that the mess crews were better fed than other captives. The daily diet consisted of two hundred to four hundred grams of a poor grade of rice, containing fine gravel and insects, about one hundred grams of weeds (from carabao wallows), and, on a rare occasion, ten grams of "one" of the following: sugar, coconut oil, beans, camote (sweet potato), corn, or meat. The diet was usually below eight-hundred calories daily, of which protein and fat were less than fifty calories.

Captives, who were able to earn a pittance by hard labor on labor details or on the farm, could supplement their diet with an occasional banana, egg, a few peanuts, or a few mongo beans.

A few captives raised small gardens growing vegetables for their own use. As they ripened, the produce had to be carefully watched to prevent theft. Some captives trapped stray dogs, some ate lizards, grasshoppers and even earthworms.

With food from every available source, the daily diet rarely reached one thousand calories. Fat and salt were almost never available.

Slow Starvation: Starvation, the scourge of the Orient for centuries, devastated the captives held by the Japanese; it was not a starvation bred of poverty, but starvation bred of brutality, sadism and neglect. Murder would have been more humane; execution more legal. A slow, tortured death, however, was more in keeping with the desire of the Japanese to make the "Defenders of Bataan and Corregidor pay dearly for having challenged 'Dai Nippon."

We were hearing so much about the "Death March" and "Camp O'Donnell,"
I have decided to include several paragraphs on each:

Bataan "Death March": The "Death March" began April 9th, when the
Japanese General Homma demanded that General King surrender his 80,000
Fil-American forces on Bataan "Unconditionally."

Since Gen. Homma's prizes, Corregidor and the Philippine Islands, still lay before him, he had no time to worry about the captured Fil-American forces. His shock troops, tanks, trucks, cars, cavalry, artillery, and infantry occupied the only highway from Bataan to the central plain. They were getting into position (on the grounds of Hospitals I and II) to shell and bomb Corregidor into submission. "Why the dirty bastards! They're using us as shields to fire on Corregidor."

At the same time, Japanese guards between Marivales and Limay were rounding up the 80,000 hungry, sick, confused, and exhausted captives to march them north on the same highway in groups of one hundred in columns of four.

Guards were continually barking orders: "Get on the highway!

Hully! Hully! Hully! Kura! Stop! Get off the load! Speedo! Sona bitch! Kura! Get on the highway! Stop!" They used their weapons to enforce their directives.

The "March" began at Marivales, proceeded "on foot" for about sixty miles, then by box car for some twenty miles and finally another ten miles "by foot" to Camp O'Donnell. "It was hot, hot, hot and dusty! There was no food; there was no water!" Most captives did not have canteens. Those who attempted to fill their canteens in the ditches besides the road were frequently bayoneted; anyone who couldn't keep up was slapped, clubbed or

bayoneted in full view of the others.

Heard along the march: "During the day, we had to travel along the highway when it was not being used by heavy equipment going south." "At night, we were placed in barbed wire enclosures; sometimes there was water; more often there was none." "As the days passed, the stench of death became very pronounced; bodies were laying along the highway in all stages of decomposition swollen, bursting open, and covered by thousands of maggots."

The Korean guards were the most abusive. The Japs didn't trust them in battle, so used them as service troops; the Koreans were anxious to get blood on their bayonets; and then they thought they were veterans.

"If you fell, you were dead!"

"There were things you didn't want to see! There was the captive that the Jap trucks and tanks had rolled over until he was just a flat 'silhouette' in the pavement."

"The heat was terrible!"

"The Jap kept poking me with his bayonet; fear gave me the strength to go on."

"To have a close friend a buddy to help you might be the difference
between survival and death."

"As the days passed, the compounds holding captives at night became filthy; sick and dying almost filled the areas. The dead were not being buried. The terrible odor was sickening."

"Sometimes when the compounds were crowded, they marched us all night."

"I had 10,000 teeny blisters on the bottom of my feet."

"The compound was full of people a lot of dust, dirt and filth; I
just fell into the dirt and slept."

"People were going crazy they were 'nuts!' sometimes talking to
themselves, sometimes screaming!"

"We all had dysentery, and there was no water. Usually there was no
food."

"We finally reached the train a few box cars with doors closed in
the hot sun they were stifling hot like a furnace."

"We were jammed one hundred to a car standing room only. Men
fainted, but there was no place to fall down."

"They didn't open the door until we reached the destination.

The living and the dead just fell out."

"Sit down and be counted!"

"When we had reached Capas, it was pandemonium, Japs and captives all milling around. They tried to count us as we rested."

"Then we were told to line up-in columns of twos. We started the
march on a dirt road some six miles to Camp O'Donnell."

"Some captives had marched all the way from Bataan close to one
hundred miles."

"It wasn't the march that killed us; it was the continual delays along the march the standing in place for two or three hours at a time without food or water."

"If you stepped out of line, you were apt to have a bayonet in
your gut."

The exact number of dead from the "Death March" was probably known only to God. The best estimates were anywhere from 12,000 to 17,000.

Deaths at Cabanatuan: During the first eight months of camp, deaths totaled 2,400. Some thirty to fifty skeletons, covered by leathery skin, were buried in common graves each day. The Japs issued documents certifying that each death was caused by malaria, beriberi, pellagra, diphtheria, in fact, anything but the real cause starvation and malnutrition.

After the war, when the Graves Registration searched the Cabanatuan cemeteries, they found and disinterred 2,637 bodies.

Sanitation: From the beginning of camp, sanitation was a serious problem. Flies, including the blue and green bottle types, were present everywhere. Maggots thrived in the latrines, weakened the walls, resulting in cave-ins, and sometimes engulfing the visitor. Daily rains further weakened the walls.

After several months some engineer officers, under the leadership of Major Fred Saint of Elmhurst, Illinois, organized a sanitary detail, and succeeded in building deep septic tank type latrines that would not cave in. They applied lime daily to control flies and maggots. Gradually they dug ditches along all walks and around all buildings in order to promote draining and to prevent quagmires.

Labor Details: The camp had not been in operation many days before the Japanese requested that the American headquarters furnish labor details of various sizes and types to work both inside and outside the camp. Although an occasional detail would be commanded by a very cruel Jap guard and unbelievable brutality followed, the men on some details had reasonable guards, received extra food and remained relatively healthy.

Wood Detail: On good days, a firewood detail went to the forests to get wood for the mess hall stoves.

Rice Detail: One to three times each week, a rice detail composed of from five to ten carabao carts, an American driver for each cart, and several Jap guards, drove to market in the town of Cabanatuan to pick up one hundred pound bags of rice for the mess halls.

Outside Details: Details were taken to many places in the Philippines to build and repair roads, bridges and airfields and to load and unload ships in the port area of Manila. Several details of Americans were taken to Bataan to make a Japanese movie, entitled Down with the Stars and Stripes! Periodically, a detail was taken to Japan.

The Farm: After several months of starvation, some hungry captives suggested to the Japanese that a farm could supply extra food for the captives and might reduce the high morbidity and mortality rates.

The farm was started with a few farmers and expanded very rapidly. Groups of one hundred men each were marched out of camp every morning barefooted to spend the day on the farm.

The farmers worked under many difficulties; the sun became very hot. Farmers were not allowed to squat down or to bend the knees. They had to work bent over from the waist. They received only a fifteen minute yasume (rest period) in the morning and another in the afternoon. There was much language confusion; much misunderstanding followed by frequent slapping, kicking or beating.

Nearly every day the Japanese insisted upon larger and larger details insisted that more and more patients be returned to duty from the hospital in order to work on the farm. The workers received a small amount of extra food.

Much to my surprise, many sick patients, that we thought were too sick for duty, were becoming rather husky farmers.

More to my surprise, the Jap guards soon found they could make extra money by taking farm products to the market in Cabanatuan city, where they were sold to the civilians.

Camp Hospital: The hospital was first opened in June, 1942, by Col. James Gillespie with the mess halls under Major Jim Rinaman. There were sixty six officers and 183 enlisted men. By July 1st there were 2,300 patients and by August, 2,500.

There were thirty wards (made to hold forty soldiers), often

holding up to one hundred patients. There were upper and lower decks made of bamboo slats. Each patient was allotted a two-by-six foot space. Seriously ill were kept on the lower decks.

By Dec. 1st, I had been appointed chief of the medical service; I tried to see every patient each day. Since medicines were very scarce, there was actually very little I could do, except give some hope of a better tomorrow.

Dire Economy: In the early days of the hospital, the Japanese issued a few cartons of condensed milk that they had captured on Bataan for the benefit of the seriously ill. Unfortunately, most of the recipients of the extra milk proceeded to die in spite of the extra nourishment taking the milk with them. We quickly learned a harsh but valuable lesson: "Do not give extra nourishment to dying patients!"

From then on, the extra food went only to patients who possessed the possibility of recovering plus the will to live.

Malaria: Fully 50% of the 2,400 patients had malaria. For many months all we could do was to give one quinine tablet after each malaria chill, hoping to make them more comfortable. But after the Japs conquered the Dutch East Indies, we received 30,000 three grain tablets of quinine. This allowed us to control most cases of malaria and to cure some.

Occasionally we saw a few cases of cerebral malaria; most of these died in spite of quinine therapy.

Multiple Diseases: Most patients had more than one disease, usually multiple vitamin diseases. Many had lost from one third to one-half of their body weight. Most everyone had either wet or dry beriberi, or a few both.

Beriberi: Wet beriberi cases were bloated with edema usually beginning in the feet and gradually progressing upward to the head. A patient with edema of the feet and legs, after lying in bed all night, frequently found that the edema had spread to his chest and face in the morning.

After being up for several hours, the edema slowly returned to his legs and feet. When the edema became extensive, the patient became nearly helpless unable to get about.

Tropical ulcers often developed in swollen legs, and continued to weep as long as the edema existed. If the edema had been caused by salt intake, it could be, controlled by eliminating salt, but for the most part salt was not a factor, because we rarely had any salt in our diet.

Patients with dry beriberi were usually very thin. Their chief
complaint was lightning-like pains (neuralgia) in their legs and feet.
The only relief came from soaking their legs in buckets of cold water.
Many sat up all night trying to obtain some comfort.

On a rare occasion a dry beriberi patient would develop edema in his feet and legs; strange as it may seem, the edema seemed to relieve the pains of the dry beriberi.

Forty years later, some of the survivors still have leg pains in spite of heavy vitamin therapy indicating permanent nerve damage.

Beriberi Heart Disease: Beriberi heart disease was seen frequently, and often resulted in sudden death. Like the legs and abdomen, the heart became enlarged with edema; the beat became irregular. As some patients lay down, their heart would stop beating, especially if lying on the left side.

If you could get to them in time to sit them up, or to massage their heart, it was sometimes possible to get the heart started again.

Sudden death at night was a rather frequent occurrence. Many American trained cardiologists still consider beriberi heart disease as a reversible condition, but some ex-P.O.W.s still have the same irregularities.

Pellagra: Pellagra was common, manifest by conjunctivitis, glossitis, amblyopia, angular stomatitis, geographic tongues (often with deep grooves and severe sensitivity), and scrotal dermatitis of varying degrees including sloughing. There was increased pigmentation of the skin sometimes patchy.

Xerophthalmia: Xerophthalmia and optic atrophy were seen occasionally and often left permanent damage to vision, and sometimes complete blindness.

Diphtheria: We had an epidemic of diphtheria some two hundred cases of which 125 died before the Japs obtained a limited amount of antitoxin. Most survivors had permanent residuals.

Infectious Hepatitis: We had several epidemics of infectious hepatitis, which seemed to be self-limited. At times it was difficult to differentiate it from malaria with jaundice following Atabrine therapy.

In 1943, I had infectious hepatitis for about ten days and turned a bright yellow accompanied by severe nausea and vomiting. Every time someone would mention "food," I would run to

the window and retch. It seemed this happened about every five minutes during the day, as prisoners rarely talked about anything else. The individual would apologize for mentioning food, but it would be only a short time before it was the subject again.

Scurvy: There were several widespread epidemics of scurvy; we could stop these quickly if and when we could persuade the Japs to get a lime or two for each captive.

Diabetes Mellitus: When I entered camp, I was worried about diabetes mellitus, because there was no insulin or other medicine available to treat it. Ironically, starvation solved the problem.

The blood sugar never got up high enough to produce any symptoms.

Red Cross Packages: Just before Christmas in 1942, 1943 and

1944, the laps issued one or two Red Cross food packages, each of which contained seven pounds of food. After the package in 1942, the camp mortality fell miraculously from forty deaths daily to one or two a month. December 15, 1942, was the first day in camp in which there was not a single death.

Refeeding Gynecomastia: Three times during our thirty to thirty-six months of incarceration at Cabanatuan and in Bilibid, following the receipt of one, two or three Red Cross packages, making our diet adequate for from one to six weeks, up to six hundred "refeeding" type of breast swellings (gynecomastia) of various sizes appeared.

After the food in the packages was consumed by the captives, and the diet returned to the starvation-type, the captives with the swollen breasts noticed that the breasts were slowly and gradually returning to normal size.

Again after liberation, when the diet returned to normal and remained adequate, many hundreds of refeeding gynecomastia were seen, and lasted from one to eight months, before disappearing. At times the enlarged breasts were rather tender and even painful.

Dysentery Section of Hospital: Fenced off from the hospital was a quarantined area containing about ten wards-called the Dysentery Section-under the supervision of a separate staff of medical officers and corpsmen.

There was a tremendous sanitary problem. Many of the patients were too weak to leave their wards. Some "passed out" on their way to and from the latrine. There was essentially no medicine for these debilitated patients-unless they were lucky enough to

have a friend in Manila and knew how to contact him via the Underground.

Zero Ward: In the Dysentery Section, there was a building that was missed when the wards were numbered. Later, it was called "Zero Ward" and served as a place to put the seriously ill, essentially dying patients. It was an empty building with wooden floors, and usually contained about thirty extremely ill patients naked lying on the floor, frequently in their own vomitus and dysenteric stool.

Their chances of survival were just about zero. Flies walked casually over their leathery skin; rarely did a patient arouse himself sufficiently to threaten a fly. Most of the patients did not want to be disturbed, typically responding "Please leave me alone; I have suffered enough! Just go away!"

Exhausted and sick corpsmen moved slowly among the dying, trying to keep them clean, and giving them food or medicine, when available.

Operating Room: In the early days of the hospital, the Japanese permitted several medical officers to return to Bataan to retrieve an operating table, minimal surgical equipment and a field X-ray unit from the abandoned U.s. Army hospital.

Captives who had needed operations prior to the obtaining of the surgical equipment were operated in Cabanatuan city by Japanese doctors with 100% mortality.

Our American surgeons said, "We can do better than that!" The
American surgeons had no mortality.

A Camera: Ingenious Americans built a camera: they used X-ray film, took pictures around the camp and developed the film in X-ray solutions. They, of course, had to hide the camera and pictures when Japs were in the area.

A Radio: After hearing no news during the early months of the camp some other clever Americans decided to build a radio.

Several of the captives operated the electric generating and pumping station. In the evening, when they suspected' the Japanese were listening to their radios, they would run the voltage up high and blowout the Jap radio sets. The following morning, the Japs would bring their sets to the Americans and say: "You fix!"

After a quick examination, the Americans would exclaim, "We must get some new parts in Manila!" In Manila, they would get extra parts and eventually built a radio-in the bottom of a canteen; in the upper half was water that they could pour out, if the Japs became suspicious. Gradually, the captives became very knowledgeable concerning war activities; Jap guards contacted the Americans for the latest news.

Scuttlebutt (Rumors): The word "scuttlebutt" was an old Navy term probably antedating the father of the U.S. Navy and his first ship, the U.S.S. Alfred in 1775. The butt was a bucket or cask often placed near the ship's ladder, where sailors congregated for a drink of fresh water, and to exchange rumors.

When the sailors joined the soldiers and airmen on Bataan, scuttlebutt soon followed, and usually referred to: Long convoys filled with food, vast supplies and equipment and loaded with troops-replacements-that President Roosevelt kept assuring us were "On the way." The convoys always proved to be phantom, or arrived safely in Ireland, Australia or Africa, never in the Philippines.

In the Cabanatuan P.O.W. Camp, rumors were always rampant, especially in the evening when daily activities were finished. The scuttlebutt often referred to big Allied victories, prisoner exchanges, ships loaded with food, a new Ford for every prisoner, promotions, decorations, etc., etc.

They all proved to be figments of the imagination-just pure scuttlebutt.

Prisoner-of-War Status: About October of 1942, the Japanese removed our status of "captive" (criminal awaiting trial) and designated us as "prisoners-of-war!" We hoped that this meant that things would get better.

We began receiving pay-the same as the Japanese officers and soldiers of the same rank. I quickly learned that after receiving my thirty yen at the pay window, I had to move to the next window and deposit twenty yen into Japanese Postal Savings.

When I graduated from Prison Camp (Class of August, 1945), I had more than 30,000 yen in Postal Savings. They have never offered me any money, or a Toyota; in fact, they haven't even answered my mail.

Post Cards: When we became prisoners-of-war, each prisoner received a yellow, printed form post card. He could fill in the blank places, sign it, and it would be sent home.

"Major Eugene C. Jacobs

I am interned at Philippine Military Camp No.1.

My health is fair

I am Uninjured

Please take care of Insurance

Love, Eugene C. Jacobs, 1897"

We were allowed to send one post card every six months during thirty-eight months. The last card was a fifty-word card.

Mail: About the same number of times shipments of letters and packages came into camp from the States. Censoring was extensive. I got one letter that was completely cut out, except, "Dear Gene, ——————————————————————————————————— ——————————————————————————————————— ——————————————————————————————————— ———-

Love, Mother

Of course, these letters and packages were a Godsend. We passed the letters around to all of our friends, hoping there might be something of interest to them. We ate the cheese and malted milk in the packages-even when they had maggots in them. It was a great boost to our morale to know that someone loved us and was praying for our safe return.

Commissary: We were permitted to have a commissary; my ten yen each month bought a can of salmon or condensed milk, several bananas, a cup of mongo beans or peanuts. Once I was able to buy a live chicken and have a Thanksgiving dinner. The commissary was operated by Lt. Col. Harold K. Johnson (later to become the Chief of Staff of the U.S. Army), Capt. Amos and Capt. Norton. Gradually inflation became so bad that the Japanese pay become almost worthless.

Chapel Service: We were permitted to go to church on Sundays.

The sermons had to be censored on Saturdays; there was often a Jap attending service-to keep the preachers honest. Lt. Col. Alfred Oliver, U. S. Army, was chief of chaplains in the Philippines by reason of seniority.

Two protestant chaplains built their own chapels with scrap lumber and prison labor. Capt. Frank Tiffany was a Presbyterian; I became an elder in his chapel. Capt. Robert Taylor was a Baptist. I became a deacon in his chapel. Other chaplains used mess halls, libraries and even barracks to hold their services.

Catholic chaplains were: Majors Stanley Reilly and Albert Braun,
Captains Richard Carberry, John McDonnell, Stober, Albert Talbot, Tom
Scenina, and Dugan, and Lieutenants McManus, James O'Brien, Mithias
Zerfas, John Wilson, Duffy, William Cummings, and John Curran.

Protestant chaplains included: Majors John Borneman and Ralph Brown,
Captains Sam Donald, Leslie Zimmerman, Morris Day, Arthur Cleveland,
and Lieutenants Quinn, Herbert Trump and Ed Nagle (a missionary from
Baguio).

Chaplains of unknown denomination: William Dawson, Joseph
Vanderheiden.

Jewish cantor: Aaron Kliatchko.

Christmas Midnight Mass and Easter Mass were very colorful events attended by all healthy prisoners. On May 30th of each year (Decoration Day), the Japanese allowed one thousand prisoners to visit the cemetery. Chaplain Oliver led the services; Major Iwanaka Oapanese Camp Commander) presented a large wreath.

Chaplains took turns accompanying the Burial Detail from the morgue to the cemetery nearly every day-giving graveside services. Chaplains' visits to the wards of the hospital were much appreciated by the patients-sick, depressed and underground dying.

Underground: After being in camp for several months, I discovered that some of the captives were leaving notes (addressed to friends in Manila) on their beds. In some mysterious way, they were picked up and delivered in Manila. In a couple weeks there would be an answer, also left on the bed of the sender.

Sometimes there would be money, medicine and even food.

Looked like a good idea! I didn't inquire about the mechanics of the Underground. In fact I didn't want to know. I had had amoebic dysentery with bleeding for four months-with a loss of fifty pounds weight. Here was a chance to get some medicine.

I had a Spanish friend in Manila, the president of an insurance company. When he had been in Baguio with his family prior to the war, he brought his eight-year-old son to me because of a chronic stomach ailment. I made the diagnosis of "peptic ulcer" and treated him with good results. The family was quite pleased.

So I wrote Jose Olbes a note explaining my predicament.

Sure enough, in two weeks, on my bed was a note, carbazone (medicine) and twenty pesos. In another two weeks I was feeling better and gaining strength. I never inquired further about the Underground, figuring that someday someone would get caught, and the penalty would be severe.

During the two years that the Underground operated, it undoubtedly saved the lives of hundreds of prisoners. After the war was over, I learned the mechanics of the operation:

In the early days of the war, a 31st Infantry Sergeant John Phillips
married a Claire (?) on Bataan. Sgt. John survived Bataan and the
"Death March," but died on July 27, 1942 in the Japanese P.O.W. Camp
No.1 at Cabanatuan.

A few weeks later his wife, Claire, received a note from Chaplain Frank Tiffany in Cabanatuan, verifying that Sgt. John Phillips had died of malaria, dysentery and starvation. Frank ended his note with, "I beg you do not forget the ones that are left; they are dying by the hundreds! God Bless You!" Everlasting (code name). To fill her emptiness, Claire vowed revenge. Claire returned to Manila; she obtained false Italian identification papers from the Japanese, stating that she was born in Manila of Italian parents.

Claire opened a nightclub, The Club Tsubaki (Camelia) and sang her heart out every night to high-ranking Japanese officers, all the while raising money to send to the sick and dying at Cabanatuan.

When the Japanese officers became "high and loquacious," she pumped them for information concerning the movements of Japanese ships and troops, and forwarded this information to guerilla leaders.

Claire assumed the code name of "High Pockets," because she kept her valuables in her bra. Once every two weeks, High Pockets "baked cookies!" (That is, collected notes, money and medicines from prominent citizens in Manila: Juan Elizaldi, Judge Riveria, Lopes, Dr. and Mrs. Romeo Atienza, Father Lopez, Judge Roxas, and many others.)

A Filipina mestiza, Evangeline Neibert (code name, "Sassy Suzie"), carried "the cookies" by train from Manila to the town of Cabanatuan, where she delivered them to the market.

Naomi Flores (code name, "Looter"), a brave Filipina, who had also lost a husband in prison camp, obtained a Japanese license as a vegetable peddler and worked in the Cabanatuan market. Naomi hid "the cookies" in the bottom of rice sacks to be taken to camp.

Once or twice a week, the "Rice Detail" from Camp #1, went to the market in Cabanatuan to get some hundred pound sacks of rice for the mess halls.

In the mess halls, the notes were removed from the sacks of rice, and delivered to one of the following:

Captain (Chaplain) Frank Tiffany-"Everlasting"

Lt. Col. Jack Schwartz, Hosp. C.O.-"Liver"

Charles De Maio (U.S. Navy)-"WOP"

Lt. Col. Mack (Inspector General)-"DITTO"

Captain (Chaplain) Robert Taylor-"Chap BOB"

Captain (Chaplain) John Wilson-"Left Field"

Helpers delivered "the cookies" to the beds of the senders of notes, and picked up notes for future delivery in Manila.

High Pockets also baked "cookies" and collected intelligence for the guerrilla leader-Major John Boone (code name, "Compadre") for delivery to MacArthur.

The Underground continued for about two years. The Japanese became suspicious when the prisoners were spending more money in the commissary than they were being paid by the Japanese.

May 3, 1944: Six carabao drivers were arrested on their return trip from the market, and taken to jail in Cabanatuan city: Fred Threatt, Sgt. S.H. Bish, St. Sgt. Virgil Burns, Pvt. Reed Philipps, Tysinger and Rose.

The Japs seized the rice sacks with the notes, money and medicines in them.

May 10, 1944: Capt. Pat Bynes, Lee Baldwin, Capt. Jack LeMire, Lt. Bob Shirk, Sgt. Alexander, Walter Jasten, Bellew, and Cherokensky were picked up by the Japanese Military Police-along with all their belongings. That afternoon Gov. P.D. Rogers and Lt. Col. Mack were nabbed.

May 11, 1944: Sixteen Americans and eight Filipinos were taken away in a truck. All had their hands tied behind them.

May 12: Jack Shirk and Chaplain Tiffany were taken to Cabanatuan.

May 16: Five carabao drivers were returned to camp. Several prisoners were placed in "Sweat Boxes" in the middle of the field-on one meal per day: Lt. Col. (Chaplain) Alfred Oliver, Lt. Col. Jack Schwartz, Capt. (Chaplain) Bob Taylor, Col. Mack Rogers, Threatt, and Rex Aton.

Almost three months later, on August 5th, the Japanese doctor (Isha) came to me and said, "Come with me!" We walked out in the field to the sweat boxes, specially to one containing Chaplain Oliver; it was about three by three by five feet, too small to sit up-too short to lie down without curling up. Isha seemed to speak English quite well. I was surprised when he seemed to be rather friendly and told me: "I like American music, especially 'Old Black Joe,' and 'Way Down upon the Suwannee River,'" adding, "you must not speak to Col. Oliver. You examine him, and then tell me the diagnosis and prognosis."

I found the chaplain semiconscious with large bruises on the back of his neck. I told Isha, "He has a fractured neck. He will die if we leave him here; he must be taken to the hospital." Isha said "OK! You take him to hospital!"

Chaplain Oliver had married Judy and me at the Walter Reed Hospital Chapel about six years before. We both had great affection for him and his wife. It was very distressing to see him in this condition. He was a big man, in spite of many months of starvation; I had an awful time carrying him back to the hospital. (In spite of his broken neck-caused by being hit with the butt of a Japanese rifle while being interrogated regarding the Underground, he survived to return to the United States and to be honored by the Supreme Council of Scottish Rite Masons with the esteemed 33rd Degree.) I don't believe that Chaplain Oliver ever had an active part in the Underground, but he was suspect because he was senior chaplain in the Philippines.

August 30, 1944: Again, the Japanese Isha came to get me: "Come with me! We go to examine Chaplain Taylor, but you must not speak to him! You tell me diagnosis and prognosis!"

Being a deacon in his church, I had great respect for him. He was very weak and obviously quite sick.

"Doctor Isha, I do not know his diagnosis, but I do know if we leave him here, he will die! He must be taken to the hospital." Isha replied, "OK!"

The next day Bob conveniently coughed up a twenty-inch worm, which I could show to Isha. He seemed satisfied. I could breathe easier. (Bob survived, in spite of wounds received on a "Hell Ship" to take Judy a note that I wrote in Japan when I thought I was dying. He later returned to active duty with the Air Force and eventually became a major general and Chief of Chaplains.) He also was made a 33rd Degree Mason.

A third time the Japanese Isha came to get me to go out to the "sweat boxes"-this time to examine Lt. Col. Jack Schwartz, Medical Corps and Commander of the camp hospital. "You must not talk to Col. Schwartz! You make diagnosis! Then you tell me!" This time I didn't have to talk to Jack; he was talking to me in medical language. He had assumed the typical position of

"acute appendicitis." I examined Jack and reported to the Isha: "Col. Schwartz has an acute appendicitis! He will die if we don't operate!" Again Isha said "OK! You take him to hospital! You take out appendix and show me!"

We took Jack to the hospital and got the operating room ready. Col. Bill North removed an appendix, which was quite normal. I couldn't show it to the Isha! Fortunately for me, after viewing Jack's recent incision, he seemed satisfied. (Col. Schwartz survived to return to the States, to go back to active duty and eventually become a major general, and to command Letterman General Hospital in San Francisco.)

Claire Phillips: While the investigation of the underground was proceeding in the Cabanatuan POW Camp, Claire Phillips (High Pockets) was picked up by the Military Police in Manila.

She was taken to the old Spanish Fort Santiago, thrown into a dungeon and then cruelly interrogated by the Kempei Tai (Secret Police) to make her talk. She was given the water treatment (a hose was put down her throat, the water turned on-until she was suitably distended, and then the interrogators jumped on her abdomen until she talked.)

Claire would have probably been executed, but was spared death by the sudden dropping of the atom bombs, followed by the quick conclusion of the war.

Cabanatuan Cats (Orchestra): Everything in camp was not always dire; we had a few lighter moments. Several captives had been successful in bringing their own musical instruments into camp. In the fall of 1942, Capt. Lee Stevens, Army Transportation Corps, was able to obtain a small piano from his home in Manila.

Soon after, Father Bruddenbrook, a Belgian priest, acquired a miniature piano and several instruments.

P.F.C. (private first class) Johnny Kratz, a clerk on Corregidor, organized an orchestra, the Cabanatuan Cats. The Japanese enjoyed music and permitted the orchestra to practice several hours each week and to give a concert on Wednesday evenings. The orchestra and singers did much to raise the morale of the camp.

Some of the musicians were from big-name bands. Eddie Booth and Pappy
Harris played pianos; Marshall on the saxophone and clarinet; Lt.
Claire Kuncl (57th Infantry) was tricky on the trombone; Lt. Larry
Parcher and Pvt. Salas played trumpets; Chester McClure and Sgt.
Melvin Reinhart played guitars; Red Kadolph beat the drums; and
Captain Joe Salee sang a beautiful

tenor. Butch Manke, Hank Ruhl, Chuck Kaelin and Louie Baller were vocal soloists; and Sgt. Becher, Al Roholt, Hank Ruhl and Harry Mock formed a barbershop quartet called the Four Bees.

When the Cats played "Rhapsody in Blue," you could close your eyes and imagine Paul Whiteman's complete ensemble performing on the stage-they were that good. For a few brief moments, the horrors of reality vanished.

Because of the large number of prisoners from Texas and New Mexico,
"San Antonio Rose," "The Eyes of Texas," and "The Yellow Rose of
Texas" always received great applause.

Nearly every ambulatory prisoner placed his blanket out in front of the stage in the afternoon to reserve a seat for the eight o'clock performance. As soon as the music began, many Jap guards gathered around to listen.

Favorite songs were: "Stardust," "Tennessee Waltz," "A Pretty Girl Is
Like a Melody," "Mood Indigo," "Deep Purple," "Sleepy Lagoon,"
"Sentimental Journey," "Fascination," "Tenderly," "Sweet and Lovely,"
"In My Solitude," and many others. A native song, "Planting Rice," was
popular. And once in a while, they even got away with "GOD BLESS
AMERICA!" of course without words.

In October of 1944, the orchestra was ordered to Japan on a prison ship; the ship was unmarked, and after a few days out, was sunk by an American submarine. All members of the orchestra were lost!

Stage Shows: The first few months of camp, we had so many captives transferred to Group IV (the cemetery), that the future seemed very bleak. To raise the camp morale, Lt. Col. O.O. (Zero) Wilson began a variety program in Group I; Lt. Bill Burrell started a medicine show in Group II and Captain Bleich initiated shows in Group III.

In October, 1942, Col. Zero combined the shows into a central casting office, and every Saturday night put on a super colossal by the Cabanatuan Mighty Art Players.

Some of the actors were: Al Manning, Robin Swann, a Britisher, Don Childers, Ben Mossel, Bill Nealson, Robert Brownlee (a Negro and camp favorite), Bill Burrell, Eddie McIntyre (female impersonator), and many others.

Some of the fifty-four productions were: Casey Jones, The Drun­ kard, Gone with the Wind, Journey's End, Uncle Tom's Cabin, etc.

Glee Club: Several times, Sgt. Clarence Sayre's Glee Club put

on entertainment in the three groups and in the hospital: "The Halleluiah Chorus" was among all time favorites.

News Reels: On a rare occasion, when the Japs had a big victory to gloat over, they would show the camp a news reel. The photography was horrible. They had not yet achieved the American know-how in making cameras, film, radios, televisions, automobiles, computers, etc.

Library: Some two hundred books were collected from the barracks in Group II. Records were kept on the back of labels off condensed milk cans. Other groups started collecting books and the number reached nine hundred including magazines.

In November, 1942, a camp library was started by Lt. Col. Babcock, assisted by Capt. Brunette and Lts. Trifilo and Edwards. Prisoner details were sometimes able to obtain books or magazines on their journeys.

Classes: Captives were forbidden to gather in groups without special permission. Classes were formed in many subjects: Japanese, German, Spanish, Russian, and Tagalog (native Philippine language). There were classes in astrology, banking, photography, history, cheese and wine making, menus, diets, etc. One prisoner, almost blind, wrote a cookbook.

Games: Many games were played during off-duty hours: cribbage, acey-ducey (U.S. Navy), chess, checkers, bridge, poker, and the like. At times baseball and volleyball were attempted, but beriberi definitely limited any enthusiasm and the games died out.

Soochow, a Chinese bulldog and Marine mascot, gave much pleasure to many prisoners-he thought he was an officer.

Masons: In August, 1943, two Masons, Chap. John Borneman and Major Howard Cavender (former manager of the Manila Hotel), were instrumental in getting money, medicine and food from Masons in Manila through the underground and donating it to prisoners.

In a camp where competition for survival was becoming a serious problem, where officer was stealing from officer, it was a real joy to see the brotherly love of Masons for their fellow men. I decided that someday I would be a Mason.

The Morgue: It was only a short distance from Zero Ward to the morgue, where bodies were accumulated, awaiting the daily trip to the cemetery.

The Cemetery (Group IV): Once each day, thirty to fifty

captives formed lines at the morgue to carry the naked bodies on window shutters to the cemetery, about one-half mile from camp. Following a brief religious ceremony, the skeletonized bodies were lowered into common graves. On rainy days the graves filled with water; it became necessary to hold the bodies down the poles, while dirt was shoveled on to them. Sometimes the rain would uncover an arm or leg; then animals ate away the flesh.