Blood Brothers: A Medic's Sketch Book Part 2

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 j.a.pan, 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 j.a.panese civilians in the Baguio area, and bring them into camp!

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

8 and 9; confine all j.a.panese 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 appet.i.te, 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 j.a.pan?"

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 j.a.panese bombers, actually starting World War II in the Philippines.

Where were our American planes? We probably did just what the j.a.panese 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 j.a.panese 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 j.a.p 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 j.a.panese 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.' G.o.d, 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 teta.n.u.s 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 a.s.sist me. She was a tower of strength. While Dr. Allen and I were operating, Civil War General Sherman's remarks that "War is h.e.l.l!"

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 j.a.p 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 j.a.panese as it had been for several months, I was able to make out that Congress had declared war on j.a.pan at 1610 hours on December 8, 1941, (0500 hours, Dec. 9 Philippine time). Now it was OK for us to shoot back at the j.a.ps! But with what? I also learned that the j.a.ps 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 Ca.n.a.l 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 j.a.panese 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 j.a.panese barracks to inspect some two-hundred internees (civilian prisoners). They had staked out a big j.a.panese flag on the ground for planes to see, for their own protection.

One of the j.a.panese 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 j.a.p 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 a.n.a.lgesic 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 j.a.ps 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 j.a.panese 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 a.s.signed 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 j.a.pan.

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.