Blood Brothers: A Medic's Sketch Book Part 4

The Jorgensens still had telephone service to their friends in Baguio.

From them, we learned that many of the j.a.panese civilian prisoners, whom we had interned at Camp John Hay, when liberated by the j.a.panese-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 j.a.p 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 j.a.panese bayonet. There were many tales of j.a.panese treachery.

Yet, the j.a.ps 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 j.a.ps turned their hospitality and hostility on and off like a faucet.

The j.a.ps insisted that the natives take off their big straw hats and bow deeply each time they encountered a j.a.panese 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 j.a.panese 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 j.a.p 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 j.a.panese 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 pa.s.ses and then sliding down the other side. At night we slept near streams and awakened soaked with dew. After several hours of suns.h.i.+ne 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 j.a.panese plane was observing our activities. We decided to push on to Balete Pa.s.s, 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 j.a.p flag on top pa.s.sed us going north.

Shortly, the j.a.p car was back minus the j.a.panese flag on top. It came to a screeching halt as our truck had the road blocked. For a few seconds the j.a.ps and our medics just stared at each other probably expecting gunfire. Nothing happened! My unarmed medics had the j.a.ps surrounded! I had my .45 pistol, but knew if I reached for it, we'd all be mowed down. Stepping forward, I motioned the j.a.p 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 j.a.panese 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 j.a.ps 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 hara.s.sing 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 G.o.d 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 compet.i.tion. The birds and animals were extremely mobile and agile, getting to any available food much quicker than we could.

The j.a.panese 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 j.a.p 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 j.a.panese had designs on U.S., British, French, and Dutch possessions in Southeast Asia. We knew the War Plan Rainbow 5-a.s.sumed 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 j.a.pan.

It had become quite obvious that the j.a.ps 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 j.a.pan. 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 j.a.panese.

The j.a.panese 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 j.a.panese." 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 j.a.ps 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 j.a.ps were putting out much propaganda such as "Asia for Asiatics" (which really meant "Asia for the j.a.panese"); 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 communique 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 cla.s.ses. 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 b.u.t.t, sir! None of us had ever seen a white b.u.t.t 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!"