Blood Brothers: A Medic's Sketch Book

Copyright (C) 1985 by Colonel Eugene C. Jacobs.

(Note: Project Gutenberg's .zip includes the images from the book.)

BLOOD BROTHERS

A Medic's Sketch Book

By

Colonel Eugene C. Jacobs

Edited by Sam Rohlfing,

Vero Beach, Florida

A Hearthstone Book

Carlton Press, Inc. New York, N.Y.

DEDICATION

To my wife, Judy, a beautiful person.

Limited Edition

© 1985 by Colonel Eugene C. Jacobs

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Manufactured in the United States of America

ISBN 0-8062-2300-6

PREFACE*

The purpose of Blood Brothers is to acquaint the reader with a series of harrowing incidents experienced by the isolated U.S. Armed Forces in the Far East during World War II.

We might well be voicing the words of Saint Paul which were recorded in his Second Letter to the Corinthians, Chapter I) verse 8:

"For we would not, brethren, have you ignorant of our trouble which came to us in Asia, that we were pressed out of measure, above strength, insomuch that we despaired even of life!"

Of his First Guerrilla Regiment, General Douglas MacArthur stated that "He had acquired a force behind the Japanese lines that would have a far reaching effect on the war in the days to come"; that it had kept "Freedom's Flames burning brightly throughout the Philippines"; that it had produced a "human drama with few parallels in military history"; and later, during the landing in Lingayen Gulf, had "accomplished the purposes of practically a front line division."

MacArthur further stated that "the courageous and splendid resistance maintained by you and your command filled me with pride and satisfaction."

Of the Hell Ship Oryoku Maru, Gen. James O. Gillespie stated "it was probably the most horrible story of suffering endured by prisoners of war during World War II."

Gen. John Beall further stated, "You say a lot of things that need to be said, lest the United States forgets the horrors of the way the Japanese treated our prisoners."

In writing Blood Brothers, I found it necessary to resort to frequent flashbacks; and to keep the reader aware of the history taking place around the world, I tried to make reference to these events as they happened, even when they were merely rumors.

This story has not been pleasant to write; I'm glad it is finally finished.

In Blood Brothers, there are no heroes. The survivors of the Philippines arrived home in 1945, quietly and without recognition, to be admitted to hospitals near their homes.

With winners and heroes everywhere, there was no time for "Losers."

Eugene C. Jacobs

"Our senses can grasp nothing that is extreme! Too much noise deafens us! Too much light blinds us! Too far or too near prevents our seeing! Too long or too short is beyond understanding! Too much truth stuns us!"

Blaise Pascal

*General Harold K. Johnson, a former Chief of Staff of the United States Army, had been a former Japanese prisoner-of-war, had experienced each and every event as it happened to other P.O.W.s, and had been an excellent friend through more than thirty years of Army service; he had agreed to write this PREFACE; unfortunately, this was followed by a long hospitalization ending in terminal cancer.

CONTENTS

I Bombs Fall on Camp John Hay, Rest and Recreation Center, in the Philippines

II The Orange Plan (WPOIII)

III MacArthur's First Guerrilla Regiment

Col. Warner Surrenders the 14th Infantry

Japanese Prisoner of War Camp No.1, Cabanatuan

IV Japanese Atrocities

V Americans

VI "Old" Bilibid Prison

VII Japan Detail - Oriental Tour - Strictly Third Class

X Japan

XI Camp Hoten, Mukden, Manchuria

XII Japan Surrenders

XIII Start Home

XIV The Good Old U.S.A

XV Borrowed Time

Appendix

Acknowledgments

*MY SKETCHES

During the first few weeks of our incarceration in Japanese Prisoner-of-War Camp No.1 in the Philippines, 1,500 (25% of our 6,000 captives) died of starvation, malnutrition, various vitamin deficiencies, malaria, diphtheria and various wounds that would not heal. I knew that within another 6 to 8 months, we would all be dead, and there would be no record of it. There was no paper to keep any record of events.

Within a few weeks, I was able to obtain a" nickel school notebook. In it, I drew many sketches, depicting the lifestyle in prison camp.

Of course, I had to be secretive. There was a penalty for keeping records in camp; if I'd been caught, I would have been beheaded.

By the time we were being processed for transfer to Old Bilibid Prison in late October 1944, I had made some 110 sketches. I rolled them up and placed them in a Mason jar. I buried the jar at the east end of building No. 12, planning to come back after the war and dig it up.

…

When the war was over, I was flown from Mukden, Manchuria to Kunming, China and on to Manila, P.I., where I was housed in a tent at Reple Depot # 29 south of the city. The next day I was flown in a Piper Cub back to Cabanatuan to look for my drawings, landing at an airfield we had built as prisoner-labor. A battalion of Engineers furnished a bulldozer.

The camp buildings were all gone. I figured out where building # 12 had been. We dug for hours and found nothing.

As fate would have it, one year after I returned to Active Duty at Walter Reed General Hospital in Washington, D.C., I located my 110 sketches at the Pentagon. MacArthur's Sixth Army Rangers had retrieved the buried drawings when they liberated Camp #1 in late January 1945.

All of my sketches had been carefully numbered, and marked on the back
"Unidentified Artist." I had been officially declared an artist.

INTRODUCTION

In Japanese prisoner of war camps, all prisoners were divided into
groups of ten, called "blood brothers."

If anyone of the ten "blood brothers" made any attempt to escape,
the other nine would be punished "Sevelery!"

Typical punishments:

Tie the blood brothers to fence posts and require each passing
Japanese soldier to slap and kick them.

More severe punishment required recruits to use the bound brothers
for bayonet practice.

The most severe punishment required an officer to unsheathe his
samurai sword and behead the "brothers."

My ten blood brothers, all Medical Officers of the Regular Army,
were:

Lt. Col. William Draper North

Major James Bahrenberg

Wilbur Berry

Wesley Bertz*

Eugene Jacobs

Emmert Lentz

Steven Sitter

Clarence Strand *

Clarence White*

Captain Robert Lewis

The blood brothers with the asterisk (*) were killed or died on "Hell
Ships" enroute to Japan.

The other brothers survived the rigors of Bataan, the "Death March" Japanese prison camps, labor details, the "farm," and "Hell Ships" to return to the United States. Since the war, all have died, except the author, who is anxious to tell his story before the first reunion of the "brothers."

STAFF Camp John Hay Baguio, Mountain Province, P.I.

Lt. Col. John P Horan, Commanding Officer

Capt. Hubert (Sandy) Ketchum (Cav. Adjutant)

Major Henderson Allen, (Q.M.C.) Supply

Major James Blanning (Cav.)

Major Ronald McDonald, Company A

Captain Ralph Rumbold, Company B

Captain Francis Fellows, Post Exchange Officer

Captain Everett Warner, Provost Officer

Captain Parker Calvert,

Captain Eugene C. Jacobs, Post Surgeon and Hospital Commander

Captain Ruby Bradley, A.N.C., Chief Nurse

Lieut. Beatrice Chambers, A.N.C.

Lieut. Clifford Simenson, Enlisted Men's Dormitories

Lieut. Harold Everman, Signal Officer

Lieut. Cowan,

Lieut. Evans,

Sgt. R.M. Trent

Sgt. Bennet

Sgt. King

Sgt. Hayes

Sgt. Beck

Sgt. Farmer

Sgt. Sibert

Sgt. Adkins

Regret that I can not remember the names of some 200 others on duty at
Camp John Hay; they were all very dedicated personnel.

Chapter I

BOMBS FALL ON CAMP JOHN HAY, REST AND RECREATION CENTER IN THE PHILIPPINES

The phone next to my bed was ringing with a great deal of
determination. Half-asleep, I raised the receiver:

"WE ARE AT WAR WITH JAPAN! PEARL HARBOR IS BEING BOMBED! REPORT TO
HEADQUARTERS AT ONCE!" It was 0500 hours, December 8th, 1941.

Hawaiian time, it was 1030 hours, December 7th. The bombing was still going on, lasting from 0755 to 1050 hours.

Greatly surprised and quite groggy, I tried to collect my thoughts while getting into my freshly starched uniform, Medical Corps, U.S. Army: "Knocking out the Pacific Fleet at Pearl Harbor could clear the way for Japan to conquer the Philippine Islands, without any outside interference. Of all the Pacific territories of the United States, the Japanese most wanted the Philippines. General MacArthur, as well as the Japanese, believed that the Philippine Islands were the 'Key to the Orient'; Japan would have to take the Philippines before attempting to conquer any other countries in Southeast Asia. Some Navy admirals had recently remarked that the 'Pacific Fleet belongs in San Diego!' If the Japanese should sink one ship in Pearl Harbor (the so-called Mouse Trap), they could bottle up the entire fleet. Now, with the Pacific Fleet crippled, there could be no rescue attempt. For several years we had been aware that in the event of an invasion, all our defending military forces would hole-up on the Bataan Peninsula, where supplies and equipment had previously been stored, until the U.S. Navy, the most powerful in the world, could come to our rescue (Orange Plan-WPO III). "

By 0530 hours, I was standing in the office of Lt. Col. John Horan, Post Commander of Camp John Hay, waiting for instructions. I was a captain and a doctor, the C.O. of the thirty five bed station hospital.

Saluting the colonel, I was told to sit down and wait for further instructions. It was dark and cold. Maps and orders were on the colonel's dimly lighted desk. Other officers were beginning to arrive.

Don Bell's voice blared forth from Radio KZRH in Manila: "Those dirty little bastards have struck Pearl Harbor! Reports remain sketchy, but there is no doubt! "Oh God!" Bell was actually crying, near hysteria, as he continued: "The yellow-bellied Japs have hit our ships at anchor!"

Everyone was extremely excited; the air was becoming blue with cigarette smoke. No one was talking; we were all intently listening-for any late news. Several junior officers were openly nipping on pocket flasks. I thought to myself, "This is one time when I'm going to need all my marbles." We had recently returned two junior officers for alcoholism; they couldn't cope with the tropics even in peacetime. Or did they outsmart me and get back to the States to sit out the war?

No news was coming in; we were all anxious to get back to our units to make necessary preparations for war, but had to await instructions. For months we had anticipated war with Japan. We were the nearest U.S. base to Japan, so were very sensitive to any war-like talk or gestures. Actually, the thoughts of war hadn't bothered me too much; a farmer had once told me, "If you are going to get kicked by a mule, it is best to be close to the mule!" Over the last forty years, we knew the Japanese had been preparing for war, taking scrap iron and raw materials from the Philippines to Japan. Now, we had a strange feeling that we might be getting some of these materials back in a more sophisticated form.

We had no idea how, when or where this war would begin in the Philippines. The last place we expected it would happen was Camp John Hay, a Rest and Recreation Center (R.&R.), offering a delightful climate for military and naval personnel and their dependents on duty in the Far East, desiring temporary relief from the intense heat and humidity of the lowlands.

Camp John Hay was pleasantly located one mile above sea level amongst the pine trees of Mountain Province in Baguio, the summer capital of the Philippines. It was only twenty miles from the beautiful white sand beaches, the stately palms and the sweltering sun of Lingayen Gulf. Camp Hay actually had no real military value. It had been set

aside in 1903 as a recreation area by President Theodore Roosevelt, and named after his Secretary of State, John Milton Hay. The same year Roosevelt designated Baguio as the summer capital of the Philippines.

In December, 1941, there were only two companies of the 43rd Infantry of Philippine Scouts (P.S.), a housekeeping detachment, stationed there. The camp had no fortifications and no large weapons, only a few wooden barracks and some one hundred or so obsolete rifles of W. W. I. vintage. There was one small salute cannon for raising and lowering "Old Glory."

Looking back several months to July, 1941, when General MacArthur was appointed Commanding General of the U.S. Armed Forces in the Far East (USAFFE), he recruited 110,000 young Filipinos for the Philippine Army (P.A.). It would be many months before they could be trained as they spoke some sixty dialects. They looked more like boy scouts than soldiers with their fiber helmets, sport shirts and tennis shoes.

About the same time, War Plan Rainbow 5 was adopted by Roosevelt's Joint Army-Navy Board: first the Allies would conquer Germany and Italy. As for Japan, the Allied strategy in the Far East was purely defensive. MacArthur opposed the idea of the Philippines being abandoned, but agreed with the plan "to defend all Philippine soil." He told his officers: "The beaches must be defended at all costs; prevent the enemy from making any landing!"

We at Camp John Hay believed ourselves reasonably safe in this mountain resort, even when war seemed imminent. President Manuel Quezon also must have considered himself secure in Camp Hay as he was in residence at the beautiful presidential mansion.

Finally, Colonel Horan, standing tall behind his desk, announced: "I have been unable to obtain any new information from USAFFE in Manila. I understand the damage done to the Pacific Fleet in Pearl Harbor has been extensive. Captain Warner (CO. of Military Police (M.P.): take your M.P.s and any scouts that you need, round up all Japanese civilians in the Baguio area, and bring them into camp!

"Lieutenant Velasco: build an eight-foot fence around Barracks

8 and 9; confine all Japanese internees there!

"Other officers: acquaint your troops with the present war situation, and War Plan Rainbow 5. Stay near your telephones!"

At 0730 hours, with a lump in my throat and a complete loss

of appetite, I tried to swallow a few bites of breakfast at the Officers' Mess, overlooking the gorgeous valleys below. Everyone was excited, wondering what the next news would be. Normally I would have walked the few blocks from the hospital to the mess hall and back, just for the exercise; this morning I drove my1936 Model A coupe. Time might become very important at any moment.

At 0800 hours I was in my office in the hospital, on a hill overlooking Camp Hay, carefully studying my orders and maps.

At 0805 hours our two Army nurses, Captain Ruby Bradley and Lieutenant Beatrice Chambers, entered my office. I inquired, "Do you know that we are at war with Japan?"

Before either could answer, bombs were falling on all sides of the hospital. "There they are!" I exclaimed. Not yet realizing how dangerous the bombs could be, we casually walked to the windows and watched the tremendous explosions moving across the camp-toward headquarters-raising clouds of dust to the rooftops. The war arrived at Camp John Hay at 0809 hours, Dec. 8, 1941. Between twenty and twenty-five twin-engine bombers were overhead in a diamond formation. Soon some 150 bombs of various sizes were bringing disability and death to many of our soldiers-drilling on the parade ground-and to their families in their small homes. It seemed unreal that Camp Hay could be the first target of the Japanese bombers, actually starting World War II in the Philippines.

Where were our American planes? We probably did just what the Japanese planned that we would. We called Clark Air Field-about one-hundred miles to the southwest, and told them, "Camp John Hay is being bombed! Get some fighters up here, and keep those bombers away!"

We had no air-raid sirens, no machine guns, no anti-aircraft guns, nothing to deter them. We were surprised by the air attack, and even more by their accuracy. We heard the bombers were led by German pilots-possibly the very ones we were playing golf with the previous week.

If the Japanese thought that they would catch our military and naval officers on weekend leave at Camp Hay, they were fooled, as all personnel had previously been restricted to their stations and ships by a General Alert. Within thirty minutes, the U.S. fighters were circling overhead looking for Jap planes. Finding none, they returned to Clark Field just before noon to

gas up and get lunch. Along with thirty-five U.S. bombers, the fighters lined up on the runways, soon to be blasted by two waves of 50 heavy Japanese bombers. About the same time, Nichol's Field, Fort McKinley and Cavite Naval Station were being heavily bombed. Nearly half of the U.S. Army Air Corps planes were destroyed during the first day of war, the day before Congress declared war.

Wounded were now arriving at the hospital by every available vehicle. It was a horrible scene, an unforgettable sight, as corridors quickly filled with seriously wounded and dying soldiers, lying in puddles of blood, moaning, groaning, screaming, and begging for mercy.

Being the only Army doctor on Northern Luzon, I was to be tested as never before in my life. I was a Regular Army professional soldier, alone, and on my own. If we didn't act quickly, we would very soon have many dead patients. I had seen many bad auto accidents, but never anything like this. Shaking and woozy, I told myself, "This is no time to 'chicken out.' God, give me strength!"

Mustering my strongest voice, I screamed: "Everybody! Listen to me! These patients are all bleeding. We've got to stop the bleeding quickly - right now! Elevate extremities! Use anything you can get to stop the bleeding! Tourniquets! Compression bandages! Hemostats! Even your fingers, if they are clean! Bring all bad cases to the operating room!"

During the next thirty-two hours, our medical staff worked around the clock, applying tourniquets and compression bandages, amputating arms and legs (many dangling by only a few shreds of skin or tendons), tying off bleeders, giving tetanus shots, laying the dead in the garage for identification. As soon as we could get each patient through his emergency, we sent him by ambulance to one of the civilian hospitals in Baguio for definitive care, and a few miles distant from any future bombing.

I was very fortunate in obtaining Dr. Beulah Allen (the wife of our Post Quartermaster, Lt. Col. Henderson Allen), a retired surgeon, to assist me. She was a tower of strength. While Dr. Allen and I were operating, Civil War General Sherman's remarks that "War is hell!" kept haunting me.

I was extremely proud of my medics; we took care of wounds, the likes of which none of us had ever seen before! Periodically, a Jap plane would drop a bomb or two-to let us know the war

was still on. They did little damage. After we had our wounded taken care of to the best of our ability, we dared to look outside to see the thirty-foot craters and damaged buildings near the hospital.

For the first time, I realized that I was frightened. I could have been in one of those buildings, or walking across the areas where the craters were.

Dee. 9, 1941: At night our medical teams returned to their individual quarters for their first rest since the bombing exhausted and giddy. I turned on my little radio. Although the signal was badly jammed by the Japanese as it had been for several months, I was able to make out that Congress had declared war on Japan at 1610 hours on December 8, 1941, (0500 hours, Dec. 9 Philippine time). Now it was OK for us to shoot back at the Japs! But with what? I also learned that the Japs had landed large forces in French Indochina.

I was quite sure that all commercial communications with the States had been cut off, but I called the radio station to send a message to my wife, Judy, a teacher at Holton Arms School in Washington, D.C., that I was OK.

Judy and I had arrived in Manila on July 20, 1940, after a delightful trip from New York City through the Panama Canal on the U. S. Army Transport Republic bound for San Francisco, and on the U.S.A.T. Grant via Hawaii, Guam and Manila. We got to see two World's Fairs (New York and San Francisco). It was really our honeymoon, as we had previously been too poor to afford one.

During the six weeks we were on the high seas, history had been taking place. Hitler's armies had blitzkrieged through Holland, Belgium and France; the British Army had a forced evacuation from Dunkirk in an armada of small boats. Mussolini had declared war on Britain and France (actually stabbing France in the back while she was on her knees). Hitler's bombers were causing havoc in England, and his submarines were sinking many Allied ships in the Atlantic. Tojo was vigorously continuing his "undeclared wars" in Manchuria and China. Churchill said, "We shall seek no terms; we shall ask no mercy."

Roosevelt, preoccupied by presidential elections, was finally becoming aware of Hitler's threat to democracy. He called up volunteers for the Army; he further prepared for war by agreeing to transfer many planes, tanks and some sixty reconditioned

destroyers to Britain.

Our ships bound for the Philippines had large U.S. flags painted on each side lighted at night. We were wary of subs as they had been busy in the Atlantic. We were beginning to get the feeling that maybe this would not be the "happy honeymoon" that we had planned. And yet, war seemed so very "far away."

December 10, 1941: Several bombings with little damage, a few wounded.
We did our best to make them comfortable. We learned that President
Quezon had departed from Camp Hay soon after the first bombing for the
Malacanong Palace in Manila. The Japanese would probably spare the
palace for their own use.

During free moments, of which there were very few, I instructed our medics in first aid, litter drill over mountain trails, etc. I did all of the things that I could think of in preparation for war: drew money out of the bank; got some new field boots and field uniforms from the clothing store, packed my bedding roll with soap, toothpaste, razor, towels, etc., and put fresh medicines in my little black doctor's bag given to me by Dr. Eugene Stafford, who had retired in Baguio after a distinguished career at the Mayo Clinic. I moved my furniture to his house for safekeeping until after the war.

I had to go over to the Japanese barracks to inspect some two-hundred internees (civilian prisoners). They had staked out a big Japanese flag on the ground for planes to see, for their own protection.

One of the Japanese prisoners was brought to me with a severe sore throat. Examination showed a peritonsillar abscess. The treatment would be to lance the abscess and let the pus out. He was the first real live Jap that I had ever met face-to-face. I attempted to explain his condition to him. I proceeded to cut his throat with a surgical knife. He had considerable pain for an instant, then considerable relief. I gave him an analgesic and a sedative. He seemed grateful, shook my hand and said, "Arigato vely much!" as he bowed deeply and departed for his bed.

Some gold-mining engineers, friends of Col. Horan, built an "entrance to a mine" some thirty feet back into a hillside in the center of camp for an air-raid shelter. It proved to be very good, but we nearly broke a leg each time we raced a bomb down the hill to the entrance.

That night our radio told us that the Japs had made landings

at Aparri, on the north coast of Luzon, and had actually landed two thousand soldiers at Vigan on the northwest coast. It sounded like they had landed without any resistance. These two cities were only two or three marching days from Baguio. Was the Rainbow war plan not working?

News was received that Hong Kong and Wake Island had been captured.
Also, that the British battleships, HMS Repulse and HMS Prince of
Wales, had been easily sunk off the Malayan coast by Japanese planes.

We heard many unusual noises about camp, especially at night, and saw strange lights that we thought might be signals. We became suspicious of everything that moved in camp, especially any moving troops, until we were sure that they were ours.

I couldn't sleep! As I lay in bed, I recalled how I'd been assigned to Camp Hay from the Medical Regiment at Fort McKinley, near Manila. Col. Wibb Cooper, the Philippine Dept. Surgeon, picked me out of some one hundred medical officers because I had just enough time to do on my tour in the Philippines, not too little, not too much medical training and experience, just enough responsibility, personality, sociability, etc. I was to be the only U.S. medical officer north of Fort Stotsenberg one hundred miles to the southwest. I was to be the nearest U.S. doctor to Japan.

Camp Hay met all my expectations: delightful wooded areas, friendly people, a fine, well-equipped station hospital and a well-trained staff. I was invited to the Rotary Club for dinner with the American operators of the nearby gold mines and lumber companies in the valleys below. They all seemed anxious to know the only U.S. doctor. Retired Major Emil Speth, the mayor of Baguio, took me in tow and saw that I met everyone who was important.

During three months prior to the war, General MacArthur, the Commanding General of USAFFE, conducted a "War School' for his general officers at Camp Hay. During the school period, I got to meet and visit with most of the generals and their aides-either at the hospital or the Officers' Mess. I was their "Medic!"

Several weeks prior to the war, some British officers' wives from Hong
Kong arrived in Baguio, a supposedly safe place to sit out the war.
Our student generals seemed to think the "lady limeys" had been sent
over for their dining and dancing pleasure

at the Pines Hotel. Camp Hay was almost a perfect setting almost too good to be true except for one thing. In May, 1941, President Roosevelt suddenly ended our honeymoon, sending all of the Army wives back to the States.

It was two very unhappy people standing on Pier Seven in Manila,
wondering if they would ever see each other again, if the U.S.A.T.
Washington could outmaneuver the subs in the Pacific, and if our U.S.
Army could survive a frontal attack by the Japanese.

Roosevelt must have known the war was coming. In 1937 he branded the
Japanese as "aggressors" in their undeclared war in China and called
for quarantine against her. The Japanese answered him by sinking the
U.S.S. Panay and machine-gunning her crew.

In the late '30s, with the world situation becoming increasingly dangerous, Germany and Italy both arming in Europe, and Japan increasing its manpower, Roosevelt wanted to cut the Regular Army by 51 %, the National Guard by 35% and the Reserves by 33% in order to balance his budget. It seems he was rather naive, 'or possibly just the politician worrying about reelection.

Gen. MacArthur, who was Chief of Staff of the Army at the time, told
Roosevelt, "Mr. President, when the next war is lost, it will be
Roosevelt's War, not MacArthur's." Fortunately, MacArthur was able to
save the Army from the cuts.

In Sept, 1940, Germany, Italy and Japan signed the Tripartite Pact. In
July, 1941, Roosevelt told Gen. Marshall to draw up war plans. With
his assistants, Gen. Wedemeyer and Gen. Gerow; they concluded that
Hitler was the enemy to be stopped Japan and Italy could come later.

It was Roosevelt who said, "In politics, nothing happens by accident!
You can bet it was planned!"

In July, 1941, Roosevelt again placed sanctions against Japan to keep U. S. oil, scrap iron and raw materials from reaching her shores. He issued several executive directives which made war between the U.S. and Japan inevitable. He froze all assets in the U.S. He closed the Panama Canal to Japanese shipping.

In August, 1941, Roosevelt placed an embargo on all goods except food. During the same month the United States cracked the Japanese code, after which he knew what Tokyo was thinking,

Japan reported that "Roosevelt's decisions had created a situation so horribly strained that we cannot endure it much longer."

Tojo immediately called another million reservists to the colors.

John Costello, a British historian, said that Roosevelt received a positive war warning on Nov. 26, and possibly as early as Nov. 6th that war would break out on Dee. 7th. He stated, "Roosevelt was not only expecting war, but knew exactly when it would break out." Even with the Japanese Fleet approaching Pearl Harbor, Roosevelt issued explicit orders to the military: "Do not initiate hostilities against Japanese under any circumstances!" It now seems that Roosevelt not only expected the "Day of Infamy," but needed it to get the support of the American people, to get them sufficiently aroused to fight a war. He also wanted to be sure that Japan would be branded "the aggressor."

That night the radio announced that the "Japanese have marched from Aparri (on the north coast of Luzon) to Tuguegarao and have activated the airfield." Now we could expect more frequent bombing.

"Tokyo Rose" was urging us to surrender, or, "Experience a certain death!" She continued: "All American aid is going to Europe! America is giving Lend-lease aid to Britain and to Russia, but there is none for the Philippines." She was right!

December 12, '41: Dr. Allen and I had a Filipino soldier's wife on the operating table at 0800 hours ready for a sterilization operation. She was thirty-four years old and had seventeen children. During her last pregnancy, which she had delivered ten days before, she became greatly swollen with edema (severe kidney disease). Another pregnancy would probably kill her.

Bomb began to fall. I shouted, "Everybody downstairs-under the hospital!" After the" All Clear," we returned to the operating room to find our patient had retrieved her clothing and departed for safer areas.

Again the wounded were coming in. This time we were ready

for them. The operating room was all set up and ready to go.

Radio from USAFFE: Capt. Eugene C Jacobs, M.C, promoted to Major.

Heard that a strong Japanese force had landed at Legaspi accompanied by a large naval escort.

During the next ten days, while we treated our sick and wounded, and buried our dead, nearly one-hundred various sized Japanese ships were quietly assembling in the Lingayen Gulf, only twenty-five miles from Baguio. We had neither airpower nor naval forces to deter them. The Army Air Corps had been about

75% destroyed, and Admiral Hart would not risk his small Asiatic Fleet in battle; he took off for Australia.

At dawn on the morning of Dec. 22, '41, some 60,000 veteran Nipponese troops of Lt. Gen. Masahatu Homma's crack 14th Army from China swarmed ashore between Vigan and Dagupun, twenty-five to fifty miles from Baguio.

Maj. Gen. Jonathan Wainwright had four divisions (11th, 21st, 31st, and 1 10th) of the Philippine Army on the beaches to prevent a landing. When the cruisers and destroyers opened fire with their big guns, there was great confusion on the beaches; many recent recruits buried their rifles in the sand, and took off for the mountains. "This was not their kind of war!"

Soon thousands of Japanese veterans, on bicycles, were pedaling south on the highway bordering the South China Sea. Our Scouts picked off hundreds of Japs as they rode by, but in a few hours were completely out of ammunition. The Japs and their bicycles kept right on coming.

Sporadic wounded were appearing at the hospital. Major Joe Ganahl, a well known polo player, was one of these. He had been fighting a rear-guard action with his big" 155s"-coming down from Vigan. He said, "I'm going to have to destroy my 155s as they are trapped." When we got his wounds dressed, he took off in his jeep down the road, looking like the "Spirit of'76."

We were beginning to note that the Japanese .25 caliber was not causing near the tissue damage caused by the U.S. .30, .38 and .45 cal.

Frequently, when using the telephone, we could hear Japanese voices using our lines. We could usually get them off by saying, "Moshi, moshi! (hello) and sayonara (good-bye)."

We transferred our few remaining patients to civilian hospitals in
Baguio and made preparations to move out.

As the Japanese Imperial Army advanced up the mountains toward Baguio on both roads, the Naguillian Trail, and the Kennon Road, our two companies of the 43rd Philippine Scouts, outnumbered ten to one, were becoming more and more desperate. We could hear the big explosions as they blew bridges and oil tanks.

Finally, we were aware of rifle fire-it sounded like corn popping. Realizing that Camp Hay would soon be overrun by Japanese troops, we prepared and loaded our equipment on hospital vehicles. We were not anxious to be the first military

unit in the Philippines to surrender. We were well informed as to the Japanese cruelty and treachery in China; we didn't want any part of it.

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.