Blood Brothers: A Medic's Sketch Book Part 7

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

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

"Unhappily, the sender of that first message, Lt. Col. Guillermo Nakar, a former battalion commander of the 14th Infantry of the Philippine Forces, was caught by the j.a.panese, tortured and beheaded.

The word pa.s.sed from island to island, and from barrio to barrio. From Aparri in the north to Zamboango in the south the fire of resistance to the invader spread. Whole divisions of j.a.panese troops that the Emperor badly needed elsewhere, deployed against phantom units."

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

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

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

To plan his aggressive warfare;

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

and

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

MacArthur's First Guerrilla Regiment (later the 14th Inf.) had produced a much needed diversion for the hard-pressed forces on Bataan and Corregidor. Thirty months later, these same guerrillas of the 14th Inf. played an important part under the brilliant leadership of Col.

Russell Volckmann in a.s.sisting MacArthur's invasion of Luzon at Lingayen Gulf on January 9th, 1945.

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

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

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

in Manila to await war crime trials.

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

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

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

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

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

In the early afternoon we pa.s.sed through the barrio where we had encountered the j.a.panese Chevy and tanks seven months before. Shortly we pa.s.sed through San Jose and on to the central plains.

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

Chapter V

j.a.pANESE PRISONER OF WAR CAMP NO1, CABANATUAN

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

Within the barbed wire enclosure, many of the seven thousand half-naked, starved bodies, the "captives," slowly milled about camp.

In the several guard towers along the fence, sentries closely scrutinized their movements. The arrival of our old truck and its handful of new captives were scarcely noted in camp.

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

Camp Commander, on Lt. Col. Leo Pacquet, Group II Commander, and Col.

Gillespie, Medical C. O. Group II Dispensary proved to be a small, twenty by twenty foot gra.s.s shack. In one corner was my two-by six foot bamboo slat bed for the next several months.

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

"Thank you G.o.d!" became my frequent and fervent prayer.

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

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

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

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

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

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

I ate much better.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hundreds of beriberi cases died each month.

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