The month of December, 1941, under normal conditions would have meant for me the completion of a regular 2 ½ -year tour of duty on the Asiatic Station, the first year of which was spent in China and the remaining time as Naval Aide to the U.S. High Commissioner, the Honorable Francis B. Sayre, in Manila, P. I. I had looked forward with keen anticipation to the time, which was close at hand, when I could return to the U. S. A. and again be with my wife and children whom I had not seen since November, 1940, when, along with other Navy dependents, they were evacuated from Manila. My hopes, however, were shattered when on December 8, 1941, at 3:00A.M. I received a telephone call which informed me of the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor. The long-thought-of hostilities had finally begun!
The events which took place in various parts of Luzon, and especially in the Manila Bay area, during the month of December are too well known for comment. However, mention must be made of the fact that on the first day of hostilities, after due notice had been given, the Japs bombed Camp John Hay, Baguio, about 8:15A.M., then at noon they struck a vicious blow at Clark Field, 60 miles north of Manila, where most of the Army bombers were caught on the ground and destroyed. A few did manage to escape to the southern islands. Again shortly after midnight under a cloudless sky and full moon, Nichols Field, on the outskirts of Manila, was attacked by unopposed heavy bombers- they were plainly visible in the moonlight. In addition, on the opening days of hostilities most of our Army pursuit planes were destroyed on the ground at Iba Field on the west coast of Luzon. Loss of this latter group was most serious, as it gave the enemy almost complete superiority in the air, thus allowing him a free hand to bomb other military objectives, which he proceeded to do methodically and without delay. The Navy Yard, Cavite, was utterly destroyed with a terrific loss of life on the afternoon of December 10, and on the 19th the fuel depot and naval air base, Sangley Point, met the same disastrous fate. This gave the Japs what they wanted-unchallenged air superiority- and thus made landing operations a relatively simple matter. During the first 15 days landings were made at Aparri and Lingayan to the north, Legaspi and Antimonin to south and east, and at Nasigbu to the southwest. Manila was the hub of this wheel, the objective of the plan, toward which the main drives centered. The rice crop had been harvested, the fields were dry and had hardened, there would be no rain for six months, and all would be in the hands of the enemy only for the taking.
About December 20, when it became evident that the American and Filipino forces could not hold back the invader, withdrawals from the north, east, and south commenced at once with the peninsula of Bataan as the ultimate destination -the last stand defensive position.
Manila would not be defended or fought over. The High Commissioner was then confronted with the tremendous problem of what to do. Since some 3,000 American civilians resided in or near Manila he felt that it was his duty to remain there to be of whatever service he could and to share their common fate. At a conference with General MacArthur, this subject was discussed at great length. The General's plan in the event Manila had to be abandoned was for the High Commissioner, his family, and part of his staff to go to Corregidor. The same applied to President Quezon. The High Commissioner would not readily agree. I believe he referred the matter to President Roosevelt before he was finally convinced that such a move was the proper step to take.
Manila was under almost constant air alarm during the month of December. The Japs were pressing hard from all directions, and toward the latter part of the month events came to a climax very rapidly.
On Christmas Eve morning the Commissioner called me in and told me that he had received word to be ready to leave with Quezon for Corregidor at 2:00 P.M. as previously planned. As this move would terminate my duty with him, he expressed his appreciation for my services and we said an official "good-by." His parting remark in the office was that: "There is an armored truck down below which contains two million dollars in United States currency, the property of the Commonwealth Government; in addition there are about seventy-five bags of diplomatic mail, and the baggage belonging to myself and members of the staff who are designated to go to Corregidor this afternoon. As I cannot take it with me, I hope you will see that it gets over there." An air alarm occurred at that moment, but as soon as "All clear" was sounded I reported to my immediate superior, Admiral Thomas C. Hart, Commander in Chief U. S. Asiatic Fleet, explained to him the Commissioner's intentions, and requested instructions as to my duty assignment. Admiral Rockwell, Commandant Sixteenth Naval District, had established headquarters at Corregidor after the Navy Yard and Sangley Point installations had been destroyed, and, as there were no naval vessels in the Manila Bay area to which I was eligible for assignment, Admiral Hart verbally instructed me to comply with the Commissioner's request and then to report to Admiral Rockwell for duty.
The official party left on an inter-island steamer at 2:00 P.M. for Corregidor, the island fortress at the entrance to Manila Bay 27 miles distant. On their way out to the steamer in a launch, the Japs bombed the port area nearby and I know that must have given them the thrill of their lives.
It was arranged that I should take the Presidential yacht Casiana with all the "loot” and leave from the port area about 6: 00 P.M. All the personal effects I could take with me were what I had on plus what I could get in a small suitcase and brief case. Everything else that I owned had to be left in my quarters at the Army-Navy Club.
At 5:00P.M., after another bombing of the port area and Nichols Field, I said good-by to those remaining in the Manila office (Dr. Claude Buss, Executive Assistant, in charge) and went to the docks. To my amazement, the Casiana was not there, and upon inquiring I learned that during the bombing attack earlier in the afternoon she had got under way and followed the vessel on which the officials were embarked to Corregidor. Two million dollars in my hands, a place to go, but not the means!
After considerable worry and delay I located a ship at the Army pier which was to leave at 7:00 P.M. for Corregidor carrying General MacArthur, his family, members of his staff, and other officers. I took passage in this vessel.
It was dark when we shoved off; Manila was blacked out as usual, but a moon shone sufficiently to accentuate the sad and deserted harbor and piers where under normal conditions there was activity throughout the 24 hours of the day. As we drew farther out into the bay, tremendous fires along the Cavite shore, at Fort McKinley, Nichols Field, and the oil storages at Pandakan, Manila, illuminated the heavens. I knew that this was my last time in Manila, and as I watched the grim spectacle, fully realizing its import, and thought of my friends there, a sinking feeling came over my heart. And this was Christmas Eve, 1941!
I had hoped we would arrive before moonset so that there would be light for unloading, but unfortunately such was not the case. We did not get alongside until midnight and then, as I had anticipated, there was a general mix-up in the baggage and gear on the dock as everyone tried to claim his own in the dark. One box of money (there were fifteen in all) did get adrift, but I found it later on that night.
On Christmas morning I reported to Admiral Rockwell for duty. He had arrived two days previously and had established his headquarters, such as they were, in one of the Navy tunnels. The Admiral was very much concerned about the location of naval personnel in this grand reshuffle and, as his regular District Personnel Officer was in a Manila hospital wounded, he assigned me to that hectic job on his staff. I served in that capacity until my transfer on May 3, 1942.
From the standpoint of my job, the picture presented tremendous difficulties officers and men scattered hither and yon, many of whose accounts and records had either been lost or destroyed. The question was: how could I ever get an accurate count? In addition to the accountability came the added problem of administration -advancements, assignments to duty, deaths, injuries, changes in pay, allotments, transfers, and many other details too numerous to mention. Our mail service with the outside world was cut off. I immediately collected a few yeomen, some typewriters, etc., and went to work.
On Christmas Day and for a few days thereafter, boats were headed for Corregidor from every direction bearing remnants of Army units, our own personnel, and civilians. The latter in most cases were made to return from where they came, or else were sent over to Bataan. I endeavored to meet all boats arriving to identify and direct any naval personnel who might be aboard, and this did help some. But the general picture on the "Rock" for the first few days so far as we were concerned was one of confusion.
The Fourth Regiment of U. S. Marines (Shanghai) had originally been landed in Olongapo, Subic Bay, 30 miles north of Corregidor just prior to the outbreak of war. They were withdrawn from Olongapo about December 25 and arrived on Corregidor with all their equipment about December 27. Their task was to defend the beaches of the fortress against attempts by hostile forces to land.
About a month before war was declared it had been my pleasure to spend a weekend on Corregidor. This island fortress stands guard at the entrance of Manila Bay. Two and one half miles to the northward across the main ship channel is the thick jungle peninsula of Bataan; to the westward the China Sea; about 6 miles to the southward is the mainland of Cavite; and to the eastward Manila Bay proper. On an arc to the south from Corregidor on smaller islands are situated the lesser forts of Hughe's, Drum, and Frank. All are natural defensive positions, and from the standpoint of seacoast defense they are ideal in location. Corregidor is a rocky, precipitous island with few beaches, shaped like a crooked tadpole, 5 square miles in area, the average dimensions being approximately 5 miles long and 1 mile wide. There are two principal hills about 300 feet high, which slope steeply downward to a low flat area in the middle of the island known as "bottomside." The axis of "bottomside" runs in a north-south direction with docks at each end. Corregidor is normally covered for the most part with a luxuriant variety of thick tropical growth, and many of the military roads are covered by overlapping branches. It is a natural commanding position.
While there, General Moore, in command, made a car available to me, and with his aide I spent a half day looking over the island in general and its defensive armament in particular. I believe I am correct in saying that all the anti-aircraft protection they had was twelve 3-inch guns-no pom-poms. One Navy pom-pom was later mounted on Malinta peak. There were dispersed, however, numerous 30-caliber machine guns which are of no use whatever in modern air attacks. There were good 155-millimeter guns located at strategic points, but the coast defense batteries of large caliber guns, limited in train and with 1899 stamped in the muzzles of some, gave me a feeling of deep concern. Their fire-control system was of the elementary basic triangulation arrangement and protection to their magazines from a rear end explosion that would result from a bombing attack was nil indeed. Aside from barbed wire, which had been laid over exposed beaches and possible landing points, and pill boxes located deep in the ravines covering such points, little else had been done in the way of beach defense. Actually, there were not then on the island enough men to man the batteries and beaches at the same time. It was purely a coast defense post and no adequate provision had been made for attack from either flank or rear. In the end that is precisely what did happen, for the Japs knew the weaknesses and exploited them to the full.
There were a few wells on the island, but the principal water supply came from Bataan, being brought over in barges and stored for the most part in above-ground unprotected storages. Water for the other but smaller fortified islands was supplied in the same manner, with the exception of Fort Frank which was only about one half mile from the Cavite shore. This fort received its supply by direct line from an impounding basin on the beach.
In the rocky hills of the island an elaborate tunnel system, particularly in Malinta hill, of main and tributary concrete laterals had been constructed. In these tunnels, several of which belonged to the Navy, were located the hospital, repair shops, magazines, food supplies, and other stores, headquarters offices, the Navy's main radio transmitting and receiving stations, submarine spare parts, torpedo overhaul and upkeep shops, fuel reserves, etc. The main tunnels were supplied with auxiliary Diesel-driven power and lighting units.
This tour of inspection, so to speak, was impressive indeed, but many questions which worried me could not be answered. It was summed up by the remark, "Well, that may be so, but we've done the best we can with what we have," and in the main I had to agree. But, notwithstanding, their general feeling was one of confidence.
And so when I again saw these people toward the end of the first month of war they were still confident, with a feeling of complete security-the "Rock" had become a symbol of strength in their imagination; they had not yet been attacked! I was unable to share in such optimism, for the questions I had asked on the previous visit still remained unanswered and I had in the meantime seen Nichols Field go under, the port area of Manila bombed and on fire, and had helped unload in Manila boatloads of burned and butchered human flesh with bellies torn open, arms and legs dangling by threads, fresh from the massacre and raging inferno that was Cavite Navy Yard.
Toward the end of December the Fit-American troops had about completed their withdrawal into the defensive position in the jungles of Bataan. A considerable number of merchant ships had assembled in the waters between Corregidor and Bataan, hugging the lee of the former like a child clinging to its mother's breast, waiting and wondering what to do. All was serene and quiet until 11:45 A.M. on December 29 when suddenly 54 Jap heavy and dive bombers appeared on the scene, and for the next three hours Corregidor took a pounding that · words cannot describe. Although the personnel casualties were not so high and fortunately the gun positions not seriously damaged, there was, nevertheless, tremendous damage to other installations, services, stores, equipment, buildings, and two large loaded merchant vessels struck and on fire in the harbor. The President's yacht Casiana was also sunk at a later date. It appeared to be a general bombing in which anything hit would do, and after it fires were everywhere on the island. This was also an unopposed bombing, and as we knew there would be plenty more in store as the days went on, all hands immediately licked their wounds and went to work instantly to make repairs and restore vital services.
Heavy bombing attacks occurred daily except from the 7th to the 11th of January but with not the same fury as the initial baptism, until about February 1. While this was going on in Corregidor, the other fortified islands, and our installations at Mariveles, the Japs launched an offensive in Bataan. There was bitter fighting in that jungle country, but we had the advantage of position and their main attack was bloodily repulsed. Our field artillery and the Filipino Scout infantry regiments (old Filipino U. S. Army regulars) did heroic and splendid work. I think the only American infantry regiment we had, the Thirty-first, was held in reserve during this engagement. It was about this time that the below-quoted order was published to all hands-General J. M. Wainwright was Commander in the field:
Fort Mills, P. I.
January 15, 1942.
Subject: Message from General MacArthur
To: All Unit Commanders
The following message from Gen. MacArthur will be read and explained to all troops. Every company commander is charged with personal responsibility for the delivery of this message. Each headquarters will follow up to insure reception by every company or similar unit.
"Help is on the way from the United States. Thousands of troops and hundreds of planes are being dispatched. The exact time of arrival of reinforcements is unknown as they will have to fight their way through Japanese attempts against them. It is imperative that our troops hold until these reinforcements arrive.
"No further retreat is possible. We have more troops in Bataan than the Japanese have thrown against us; our supplies are ample; a determined defense will defeat the enemy's attack.
"It is a question now of courage and determination. Men who run will merely be destroyed but men who fight will save themselves and their country.
"I call upon every soldier in Bataan to fight in his assigned position, resisting every attack. This is the only road to salvation. If we fight we will win; if we retreat we will be destroyed.
"MacArthur"
"By Command of General MacArthur."
The supply lines for the Japs on the front came from the eastward by land and by sea into Subic Bay, which was immediately behind their lines, to the north and west. Having complete control of the land, sea, and air, the problem of supply for their forces presented no difficulty whatever, but for us it was perilous and most urgent. Corregidor at all times was amply supplied with everything except anti-aircraft ammunition, but for the army of Bataan their principal needs as early as mid-January were medical supplies, especially quinine to combat the jungle malaria, and food. With the terrific setback we took at Pearl Harbor and being surrounded by numerous Jap fortified islands and land air bases in the Pacific, I could never from the beginning see how any outside help could possibly reach us in any quantity.
Under constant bombing it was necessary for all those who did not have to be exposed to seek shelter in the tunnels, dugouts, or fox holes. Our headquarters were in the main Navy tunnel and here we worked, ate, and slept in a most crowded and over-packed style. Ventilation was poor indeed. Some auxiliary fans were rigged, but their capacity was far from adequate. Outside, the earth was parched and dusty (the effects of a wicked tropical sun) and this, mixed with smoke from fires and the pungent fumes of high explosive bombs, penetrated our tunnels causing extreme discomfort. Added to this already bad situation were the smells of hundreds of hot sweating human bodies long without baths. We washed our own clothes in buckets and hung them out to dry at night. Water was precious, so baths were infrequent. Our ration was simple, and limited in amount-two meals daily with breakfast at 8:00 A.M. and supper at 4:00 P.M. I usually carried a piece of bread in my shirt pocket to munch on during the middle of the day. Our diet was basically one of corned beef, salmon, rice, and bread. Added to this were canned vegetables and some canned fruits-nothing was fresh. We all lost weight on the diet, in my case about 25 pounds, and very soon I began to notice the effects in my gums and teeth caused by the vitamin deficiency. As proper exercise and fresh air were out of the question, I believe the reduced diet was a saving factor in the end. Throughout the en tire period on Corregidor there was little if any real sickness in our command. Living packed together as we did, it is almost a miracle that some contagious disease did not break out. But luck was with us and thus tragedy averted.
On the island was located one of the Commonwealth Treasury vaults loaded with gold and silver bullion, currency, and securities of various nature. The High Commissioner and President Quezon were much concerned about this valuable deposit- how could it be shipped to a place for safe keeping? Two million dollars in U.S. Currency were destroyed by burning and it was my unpleasant duty to assist in that operation. The money had been cancelled so that the only actual loss was the cost of the paper and printing. But they were all crisp new beautiful bills. It occurred to me that I had never lit a cigarette with a hundred dollar bill before and I did not miss this unique opportunity. Money had lost its value-there was nothing to spend it for; our requirements were very few and we much preferred cigarettes and soap to money. This experience readily proved, through necessity, how quickly the standard which we had known all our lives could change. After all, we found the veneer covering to be very thin.
As for the gold and silver, there was only one reasonably safe means of getting it out-by submarine. Accordingly, in late January one of our submarines (Lieutenant Commander Fenno) arrived from Pearl Harbor. He negotiated our mine fields, circled the island, and secured to the south dock about 8:00 P.M. It was a beautiful moonlight night. With him he brought about 3,000 rounds of much needed anti-aircraft ammunition. While this was being unloaded from aft, we were giving him fuel oil from the port side and loading torpedoes down his forward hatch. I thought of all the usual safety precautions that were being violated, but then this was war; speed was of the essence, for night bombing attacks were not out of the question. The original plan was to unload ammunition and to fuel ship the first night, dive before dawn and surface after dark the second night, at which time he would receive the gold, silver, and securities. It developed about midnight that he would need more ballast. So I woke up the Vice-President and other Commonwealth officials, members of the High Commissioner's staff, and before 4:00 A.M. had loaded 20 tons of gold and silver in his ship. The other securities were taken out the next night in a small boat, loaded on board quickly, and in a very short time he was off for Pearl via way stations.
A brief respite from bombing came during the latter part of January. The marines had been busy all along as much as they could, bolstering up beach defense positions, but now they were enabled to work almost all day long. Roll after roll of barbed wire was strung, land mines were placed along the beaches, deep tank-trap trenches were dug, concrete tank barriers were erected on the principal roads, and numerous additional machine gun positions established at strategic points. They did a magnificent job.
As long as the supply of oil and gas would permit, our vessels were out on patrol duty every night and shooting at dive bombers by day. Patrols were established as follows: (1) on a line with the main channel axis toward Manila well into the bay, and return; (2) from a point about 2 miles east of Corregidor on a southerly course to the vicinity of the Cavite shore, and return; (3) from the same point of origin as (2) but on a northerly course for about 8 miles up the east coast (bay side) of Bataan peninsula, and return; (4) a vessel in the vicinity of the seaward entrance buoy to the mine field; and (5) a motor torpedo-boat patrol up the west coast of Bataan as far as Subic Bay.
This West Coast Bataan Patrol made successful torpedo attacks on Jap vessels in the Subic Bay area, and on one patrol in late January encountered a Japanese landing boat returning empty from a position well behind our lines on the Bataan coast. The boat was sunk and its crew killed. When daylight came it was discovered that the Japs had made a landing on Longoskawayan Point with 500 men, deep in· our territory and not so far from our naval installation at Mariveles. Commander F. J. Bridget hastily organized a mixed battalion of Navy personnel from the Canopus, the section base, other units present, part of his VP101 Squadron, and a few marines who were manning antiaircraft batteries there. This battalion, untrained but courageous and eager for action, hastily went into the jungle and for three days and nights fought at close quarters with the Japs who had secreted themselves in caves along the beach and in the thick underbrush near the main road. Apparently, the Japs were hoping for a force to augment them, but it never came and none of them ever got back alive. After the third day a Filipino Scout battalion relieved Bridget's tired detail and cleaned up the situation. The Navy and Marines lost about 15 killed in this action, with about 40 wounded.
There were other encounters close in along the beach in which our personnel participated. One in particular, led by Lieutenant Commander Goodall, executive officer of the Canopus, is worthy of mention. In command of two motor launches and two motor whaleboats, with a force of Philippine scouts and bluejacket volunteers, Goodall landed on the west coast of Bataan to clear out some caves where Japs were known to be. The mission was successfully completed, but on the return trip shortly after daybreak, Jap dive bombers attacked this small force killing and wounding several men. Goodall sustained serious wounds in both feet.
Around the first of February bombing attacks on Corregidor ceased, but they continued on the front lines in Bataan and on our installations in Mariveles. About this time several inter-island vessels ran the gauntlet by night (anchoring close to shore by day) to Cebu and Panay, and returned with much-needed food and - supplies for the Army of Bataan. This was a hazardous undertaking. Soon the Japs learned of this activity, and it ended abruptly with the loss of several ships and cargoes in late February.
About February 5 the Japs surprised us by opening up on all the forts from concealed batteries behind the ridges of Cavite shore with what appeared to be 4- or 5-inch guns. Later they added to their number 8- or 9-inch guns. This fire was destructive and extremely harassing, and continued until the end of the campaign. It was almost a daily occurrence, and then did Corregidor become a "no-man's-land" and "bull's-eye." They would strike at odd times, without warning. The whines and detonations of those shells were sickening. Although we fired many rounds of counter battery there were no accurate means of determining the results. We had no planes from which to observe the fall of shot, and firing in this manner was only guesswork. In the early stages of this enemy artillery action, Fort Franks, near the Cavite shore, suffered the heaviest casualties, although all the rest came in for their share. Heavy artillery dueling continued in Bataan. With numerous ships entering Subic Bay, it became evident that the enemy was strengthening his position for a heavy attack. Thus the noose was gradually being drawn tighter and tighter around the neck of the last stronghold in the Philippines and the possibility of help was getting more remote each day.
It was decided to evacuate the High Commissioner, his family and members of his staff, President Quezon, his family, Vice-President Osmena, and other Commonwealth officials. Again the submarine was the only feasible means, but even this was extremely hazardous as the Jap destroyers and patrol vessels were now carefully guarding the entrances to Manila Bay. Nevertheless, a submarine (Lieutenant Commander Smith) arrived in the mine field channel on the night of February 20, and shortly after 9:00P.M. I placed the President and his party on board. Prior to his departure from Corregidor, however, he made me a present which I later found to be an excellent bottle of Scotch whiskey. I remember it still-the brand was "Emperor" and that struck me somehow as being characteristic of the fiery little man.
The submarine carried the President's party to Panay and returned on the night of February 23 for the High Commissioner. I had learned only that morning that authority had been granted by my Commander in Chief for me to accompany the Commissioner to Washington, but local authorities would not permit me to leave -for what reason I shall probably never know. At any rate, it was a great disappointment to me, and our parting that night after nearly two years of close relationship was one of the saddest moments of my life. I felt then that I would never see them again. Four days previously Army authorities had ordered 56 of our naval officers to Cebu to serve with the Army. These officers, of whom Captain Dessez was the senior, departed in the SS. Legaspi. None of us ever expected them to reach their destination, but fortunately they did. It was the Legaspi's last trip, for on the return voyage she was lost.
Shelling continued intermittently almost daily.
On the evening of March 11, after a very carefully planned itinerary, General MacArthur, his family and staff, Admiral Rockwell, and Captain Ray, our Chief of Staff, departed in motor torpedo boats for Mindanao, whence they later flew to Australia. General Wainwright relieved MacArthur on Corregidor and General King took over the field command in Bataan. Captain Hoeffel relieved Admiral Rockwell, Commander Deewall replaced Captain Ray. The Permit stopped in on the evening of the 14th and took aboard thirty-odd naval officers and men for transportation to Australia.
I spent the week-end of March 17 in Bataan, staying with friends at field hospital No. Two. This hospital was an open air one in the strictest sense of the word. It contained about 3,000 patients at that time, consisting of shrapnel, malaria, dysentery, and amputation cases. Except for the crudely constructed operating room there were no other buildings in the installation; the beds were arranged in "wards" scattered hither and yon in the dense tropical jungle and, except for an occasional piece of canvas canopy, there was no over head covering. This was the dry season, and red dust from the much over-used military roads, which wound in and out of the area, literally covered everything. Bathing and sanitation facilities presented a tremendous problem. Fortunately, however, a few mountain streams did pass through the sector.
I don't think I ever saw a more depressing sight than on that trip to No. Two hospital. Food and vital medicines were almost exhausted. Long ere this all horses, mules, and carabao had been slaughtered and eaten. The patients were thin, emaciated, and listless, and the pathetic expressions of hopelessness on the faces of these men made a picture I shall never forget. They had expected and longed for help which had not come and was not to come; their position was rapidly becoming desperate. However, in spite of it all, they tried hard to keep their spirits up, often making fun of their own tragic circumstances: "We are the battling bastards of Bataan-no mama, no papa, no Uncle Sam," etc.
On March 24 all hell broke loose when the enemy renewed his bombing attacks on the fortified islands, opening up at the same time with savage artillery fire from the Cavite shore. From this day forward there was to be no respite day or night until the final fall of Corregidor on May 6. He employed a new type twin-engine high altitude heavy bomber. At the same time our installations in Mariveles and the front lines in Bataan were receiving almost continuous dive bombing and strafing attacks. During the first week of this renewed attack, our anti-aircraft guns on Corregidor knocked down about 15 planes. But soon the enemy advantage proved too great and one by one the anti-aircraft batteries with their crews were destroyed either from bombing or shelling or both. The same applied to the heavier batteries, magazines, ammunition dumps, and stores scattered over the "Rock." Casualties were high. The place was under almost constant air or shell alarm.
From the beginning the Japs used every means of propaganda they could think of to produce disloyalty among the Filipino soldiers. Usually it came in the form of illustrated pamphlets, written in Tagalog and dropped from planes behind the lines and on the fortified islands. The Filipinos were urged to kill their American officers, throw down their arms, and cross the lines to "Freedom and Safety." Detailed instructions of how to do this were given in the pamphlets. They further played up the sex angle, and many of the hideous leaflets contained photographs of nude white women in inviting poses. They did everything they could to discredit the American in the eyes of the Filipino, but I am happy to say their efforts were not productive of the desired results. Incidentally, when the Jap came to the Philippines he brought with him bogus Philippine currency printed in Japan and labeled as such. This was one of the ways he professed true friendship for the Filipino-and he made him accept the worthless paper at the point of a bayonet!
At the end of March the situation in Bataan became critical indeed. The Japs, with fresh troops, launched what was to be their last offensive in the peninsula campaign. A vigorous push broke through the center of the line, which extended from east to west, and then by enveloping movements to the right and left the battle was won. April 7 was the date, and thus did the sorely tried Fil-American army meet its fate. This army was sick, starved, and worn; it had fought under unbearable conditions for over four months without help or support until it could resist no longer.
Broken communications, combined with general confusion and disorder in the thick jungle, delayed the actual surrender until April 9, at which time General King with a veteran army of about 35,000 officers and men fell to enemy hands.
The moonless night of April 8-9 was one of tragedy, horror, and strange beauty. Detached units of our troops and demolition squads had retired to the southern tip of Bataan, and there they were firing and destroying all our military installations. The whole world seemed to be on fire that night-actually, the southern part of Bataan was a huge conflagration which resembled more than anything else a volcano in violent eruption, with the exception that the earth trembled and one was deafened by the gigantic explosions of main ammunition dumps, oil storages, etc. White hot pieces of metal from exploded shells and bombs shot skyward by the thousands in every conceivable direction. Various colored flares exploded in great numbers and charged off on crazy courses much the same as a skyrocket which has run wild on the ground. The spectacle was awe-inspiring and breath-taking, but at the same time the experience was most depressing, for all that had been ours, and now that the end had come we were destroying it by our own hands.
While all this was going on, our own naval forces were destroying everything at Mariveles-the Navy tunnels, equipment, the Dewey dry dock, the Canopus and other small craft that we could not use.
All of the Army nurses, about 100 in number, and one Navy nurse, Miss Ann Bernatitus, were evacuated through shot and shell to Corregidor during the early hours of April9, and up to the forenoon of the same day. Miss Bernatitus had served in the field hospitals in Bataan throughout the entire campaign. All other Navy nurses with the former Canacao hospital staff were taken in Manila when the Japs occupied the city.
Two of our submarines had been previously detailed to transport food and supplies from Cebu through the blockade to Corregidor. One of them (Lieutenant Commander Farrell) arrived during the exciting hours of the evening of April 8. When he departed shortly thereafter, he took out 27 naval officers and men for Australia.
About midnight of the 8th we experienced a violent earthquake. Our tunnel weaved like a snake and I thought it was going to collapse. Some confused it with the explosions going on in Bataan. We had had lots of shaking up in the past from bombings and shellings, but never a motion with that characteristic. Fordham University confirmed the fact two days later.
Before daybreak on the 9th our already crowded living condition was further complicated by the arrival from Mariveles of about 650 naval officers and men, and 70 civilians, employees of the Pacific Air Base contractors. This placed the naval strength now at about 200 officers, 1 nurse, and over 2,300 enlisted men.
Bombing and shelling had been so violent during the past few days that during daylight hours we had moved the crews of our vessels to places of reasonable safety ashore. The ships were anchored off the south side of Corregidor. They were low in fuel oil, and practically all anti-aircraft mounts had been taken off and placed in defensive positions along the beaches. Each night the crews returned to their ships to salvage and remove to the forts all usable material. When this had been accomplished, the crews of the gunboats Oahu, Mindanao, and Luzon were transferred to Fort Hughes and became a part of the beach defenses under Commander Bridget. One battery of seacoast defense mortars on Fort Hughes was manned by naval personnel. Altogether at this fort were approximately 500 naval officers and men. About 250 of the overflow which came over from Mariveles were assigned to beach defenses with the Marines on Corregidor. At that time there were already about 450 bluejackets serving with the Marines.
On the night of April 9, another submarine (Lieutenant Commander Stone) arrived with food and supplies for Corregidor, but was unable to unload all her cargo owing to enemy activity in the immediate vicinity. She did take out with her 25 naval officers and men for transfer to Australia. The ship had a very narrow escape in departing.
The tempo of bombing and shelling increased- the casualties mounted, big guns, magazines and ammunition dumps went up daily. Fires were general over the island. The dried grass and underbrush burnt even with the ground and in these general fires beach defense small arms ammunition invariably went off all around popping and cracking with a noise no Chinese New Year nor a hundred Fourth of Julys could approximate. I conservatively estimate that during this period no less than 4,000 bombs and shells landed on us daily; it was a constant pounding, a terrific beating.
About April 12 the Japs moved all their artillery batteries down the Bataan peninsula much nearer to Corregidor. They were effectively concealed in the heavy jungle ravines in that area. Thus, with a much shorter range, and with heavier guns brought to bear on us and directed by observation balloons, their fire was deadly accurate and of the severest nature. The largest gun they used was a 240 millimeter -in addition 155's and 75's in great number. Our batteries never refused to fire back, but we were shooting at a hidden target while theirs was plain as day. A few rounds from our guns would draw a salvo from the enemy right into the gun pit, which usually resulted in the loss of the gun, its crew, and frequently a general magazine explosion.
On April 12, thirteen flying fortresses flew up from Australia and operated for two days from our air base in Del Monte, Mindanao. They bombed Davao and Cebu and inflicted serious damage on the enemy at these points. One plane was dispatched to the Manila area and successfully bombed Nichols Field at high noon. We did not see the plane, but we saw the smoke rising from the direction of Manila and it cheered our hearts tremendously. It was the first and only outside help we ever saw, but it was a joy. We were much the same as a drowning man grabbing for a straw. The war had been so one-sided, the odds so heavily against us, and never before one sign of aid. We knew this action could not be repeated, for the Japs in time would take our last field at Del Monte-it was unprotected.
And so there we were, 12,000 persons trapped like rats, living much the same, and waiting for the end. Everyone tried to be happy and cheerful and to take it as philosophically as possible. But it was a false face-we were to be sacrificed, and the question was: How soon? Constant bombing, shelling, death, and destruction was steadily on the increase-would the enemy ever run out of bombs and shells? We hoped so, but it was not to be. It seemed that my nightly casualty dispatch to the Secretary of the Navy grew longer each day. Our services were torn up daily, our radio aerials knocked to pieces a dozen times, but always they were mended and frequently while under fire. The courage of the men was magnificent-somehow they didn't seem to care. Numbers of times I saw radiomen up the poles, patching the lines while bombers were overhead. This was done without orders and on their own initiative-the only protection they had was a tin hat. Until our radio station finally signed off on May 5, I do not believe we were ever off the air for more than 20 minutes at a time. They performed an amazing job in maintaining that valuable service.
Every day was like the one that preceded it and if anything, worse. How could we stand this strain and terrible shock much longer? That was the question we asked ourselves. There is a limit to what a human being can endure, but that limit had not been reached.
April 29, Emperor Hirohito's birthday, is a memorable date. We expected the worst that day and we got it-I think the kitchen sink came over too. About 10,000 explosives was the enemy's allowance for that day. The earth trembled and shook under those violent detonations which lasted continuously from 7:30 A.M. until 3:30 P.M. When "all clear" sounded we found the "Rock" to be on fire all over again ammunition dumps, magazines, grass, brush, and anything else that would burn was on fire. All wooden structures had burned long before this. One could not step without seeing fragments from bombs and shells or the ugly pockmarks and craters from explosions. Several of our ships were struck on this date, and one mine sweeper was sunk. Instantly we went to work making repairs and patching up here and there, only to have it knocked out on the morrow. This same routine occurred daily, but the men never gave up hope. They went about their work willingly and cheerfully.
The night of April 29 was clear and with a full moon. Two Navy patrol planes (PBY's) had arrived the night before in Lake Lanao, Mindanao, from Australia, bearing medicines and fuses for anti-aircraft shells for Corregidor. They hid out during the day, but after dark took off for the besieged fortress. Fires were burning brightly on the "Rock." The planes were due at 11:00 P.M. Forty-six passengers, including army and naval officers, army nurses, and a few civilian women were to take passage back to Australia in these planes. We waited tense and expectantly why not another bombing or shelling attack tonight in the full moonlight? The trip was logically planned, for no doubt after a hard day's work, and on such an important date, the enemy would probably be celebrating. Shortly after eleven we heard the sound of motors-it was from the right direction and with a different pitch from that to which we had been accustomed. I cannot say how thrilling it was to hear the sound of a friendly plane after all those long hard months. The planes landed right under the Jap's nose, in full view and close to the Cavite shore. In 30 minutes they completed their exchange of stores for passengers, and with a wide open gun they took off in a blaze of glory, with a roar that could be heard for miles around. Not a shot, not even a rocket, was fired by the enemy. That feat required real courage and accurate timing-it was eminently successful in both.
Unfortunately, one of the planes punctured its hull the next day in Lake Lanao, and a bad leak developed. The Army authorities radioed to Australia for a :flying fortress to complete the journey, and most of the passengers left the PBY for what they thought was a safer risk. Working against almost insurmountable odds, the PBY was patched to the extent that the pilot was willing to chance a take-off. He had to, for the Japs were rapidly closing in on that area. The attempt was successful and he reached his destination without further mishap. A flying fortress was dispatched to Mindanao for the remaining passengers, but it crashed en route. Those people never got out.
As usual, the shelling and bombing continued. The Japs had knocked out all the anti-aircraft, a large number of 155's and big guns by early May. He was so brazen now that, after dropping his load of bombs, he came so low to strafe that you could even see him thumb his ugly little nose such spite and arrogance!
On the afternoon of May 3 came the surprise and thrill of my life. After another day of horrible pounding, the Commandant called me in during the late afternoon and told me that he had received instructions from Commander Naval Forces Southwest Pacific to transfer certain officers by name to Australia via a submarine (Lieutenant J. C. Dempsey) which was due to arrive off Corregidor that evening, and that my name was on the list. We had all suffered somewhat from shock as a result of the enemy's continuous action, but this news almost overwhelmed me and I could hardly keep back the tears – I had already resigned myself to fate. The passenger list included five other naval officers, six army colonels, one navy nurse, eleven army nurses, and the wife of a reserve naval officer. Packing was no problem, for I had lived out of a small suitcase and brief case for the past 4 ½ months, and these contained all I possessed in the world. I immediately went over to tell General Wainwright and friends on his staff goodbye. I shall never forget that worn and tragic figure. He wished me well, and then said: "They will have to come take us. They will never get this place any other way." He was a great man and a fine field soldier who had one of the most difficult jobs passed on to him of any man I ever knew.
I could hardly say good-by to my friends, for we had thought the same thoughts, lived the same life, and planned the same end, but they seemed happy for me-they knew the end was very near. I took watches, class rings, and messages from them for their wives and loved ones at home. This, indeed, was real tragedy and the tired, worn, hopeless expressions they had was something I shall never forget.
The enemy started shelling again about 7:15 but he seemed to be concentrating on the eastern end of the island. At 7:45 we left from the south dock and later transferred to another boat in south harbor. It was just about dark, but the outline of Corregidor stood out in bold relief. It was ghost-like to me. In former days it had been a lovely spot, with thick rich tropical growth and beauty and splendor everywhere. Now it was beaten and burnt to a crisp; nothing was standing. It resembled a sponge more than anything else I can describe.
During previous nights we had swept a channel through the south ·mine field for just such contingencies as this. Our small boat Perry (named after a relative of mine who was the first quarantine officer of Manila years ago) made the trip through the field safely, and soon we were in the China Sea beading for our rendezvous point 4 miles southwest of Corregidor. It was pitch dark, and any shapes we encountered could be enemy as well as friend, for the Japs closed in at night on their patrol of the entrance to Manila Bay. Furthermore, we had no definite assurance that the submarine would be there. He had been ordered by radio to be at that point, but could not acknowledge receipt of the dispatch since he was in enemy waters. Suddenly about 9:30 a black shape loomed up ahead. We had to challenge, and to our great relief he came back promptly with the proper reply and soon the old familiar hail, "Come alongside!" It was the thrill of a lifetime. We had to work fast, for Jap destroyers were close at hand. The Captain told us he had passed under two lines of them in the afternoon on his way in. I took one last look in the direction of old Corregidor just in time to see flashes from Bataan, a hit on one of our big batteries, followed by a series of explosions-another magazine gone up! The sight of it made me sick-I could stand no more. It was then 10:00 P.M.
We lay to and charged batteries until the moon rose at 10:30. We then headed out, but after a few minutes were forced to make a quick dive to avoid Jap destroyers nearby. We went down to about 200 feet. They were racing around overhead searching for us desperately, but by skillful handling of his ship the Captain managed to shake them off and we were not depth charged. This is what we were doing when midnight came on May 3. This vessel was the last to call at Corregidor. The Japs landed about 24 hours later, and on the morning of May 6 the fortress surrendered. It was the last vestige of United States power in the Philippines.
The last we heard of our Navy on Corregidor as our radio went off the air on May 5 was the now historic and beautiful expression of a heroic Commandant, Captain K. M. Hoeffel, when he said-"One hundred and seventy-three officers and twenty-three hundred and seventeen men of the Navy reaffirm their loyalty and devotion to country, families, and friends."
Throughout the entire period of this campaign our services worked, fought, and died unflinchingly before an overwhelming enemy force of land, sea, and air power. Every day was a 24-hour work day-we lost track of days of the week and dates. There was no recreation and nothing to break the monotony of the incessant shelling, bombing, and unbearable heat. Money soon lost its value. We lived and were sustained only by the strength of comradeship. We learned to appreciate thoroughly the basic factors of life and soon realized that, after all, the human factors were more valuable than riches. We never received mail or glad tidings from home. We purchased half a million dollars worth of War Bonds. We wished a thousand times that the people of America could fully understand the many ordeals which daily confronted us, with the hope that by that knowledge more drive, more power, and unstinted and unselfish application could be thrown into the practical business of making war.
Those less fortunate than I, who remained behind, are, in my opinion, all real heroes. They are the victims of a cruel fate far, far from home, and their tribulations at the hands of their little arrogant Japanese masters must be terrible. Our Government owes to them and to their families every possible consideration. They are deserving of the blessings of all, and it should be the solemn duty of every American to remember that heroic struggle and sacrifice and to see to it, and promptly, that it was not made in vain.
They fought a good fight, they finished their course, they kept the faith!