CHAPTER ONE

Chapter I

I woke to a typical Monday morning of shouting, showers, and profanity. McCaine came by my bunk and said, “Sergeant, I’ll meet you in the supply room.” Now this would not have been important to most people, but ability against ability and dependability against dependability, Private McCaine was the most outstanding private in the United States Army. If there was anyone who could help me trace down four missing Elgin watches, it was he. Now, let’s get this sergeant straightened out. The old man said, “You are in charge of supplies and this carries a staff rating, but at present we don’t have one available; so, you’ll just have to be ‘acting’”.

When I arrived at the supply room, Mac was already deeply engrossed in a huge pile of gas masks. I had no sooner entered than someone in the orderly room hollered, “Come here fellows and listen to this.” Several men were standing around the radio while the announcer was giving a blow by blow description of the bombing of Pearl Harbor. The 1^st Sergeant asked Mac and me to return to the supply room and issue everyone a small shovel and instructed the entire company to proceed to the parade ground and dig an individual fox hole in preparation for a visit from the Japanese bombers. This entired procedure was beyond comprehension and left us all feeling as if it was a field exercise. In fact, the thought ran through my mind that in time of war accountabilities cease, and I wouldn’t have to account for those four dang Elgin watches.

Not long after we completed our fox hole, a distant hum could be heard. If anyone has ever heard hundreds of large bombers flying extremely high, they know that there is no way to explain this sound. When they were immediately over us, we began to hear low rumbles in the distance which we found out were bombs exploding on Nichol’s Filed in another suburb of Manila. As I lay on my back watching these bombers, I pulled my .45 and began to fire. They must have been at least five miles high.

After the bombing some of us went to Nichol’s Field to see the results. It was here that I first began to realize the horror and tragedy that I was becoming involved in. Incendiary bombs had been dropped amidst nepa huts surrounding Nichol’s Field; burning houses made it impossible to enter some streets. Bloody children could be seen running aimlessly and screaming for parents that they would never see again. This was not what I was always taught was war- where soldiers fought soldiers and to the victor belong the spoils. Never again would I apply romance to battle.

The news came to us that the high command in Japan had agreed to declare Manila an “open city” if the Americans would remove all combat troops from this area. Being chemical warfare and no longer using chemicals, we were shuttled to a vicouac area near Antipolo. There we camped in such a apeaceful atmosphere that again the war seemed further and further removed from us.

One day while on a hunting trip one of my comrades shot a monkey. The monkey turned out to have two babies. We carried them back to camp, and the company adopted one, and I accepted the responsibility of the other. A few days later I asked for and received a twenty-four hour pass to go into Manila. While I was there, I gave the little monkey to the first person who petted him. The day before, contrary to their agreement, the Japanese had bombed Manila; one bomb had landed on a laundry where some five or six hundred Philippinoes were working. I decided to go over and see what had happened. As I stood in the door of the large laundry rooms, I experienced an example of war that should be shown to everyone who ever had any part in a decision in declaring such. In the center of the room was a large pile of parts of bodies- torso’s, arms legs, and even a half of a head which had been hollowed out like a doll’s head by concussion. I never again allowed myself to forget what I was involved in.

When I returned to my company, we moved through Manila, through Little Baguio, through Mariveles into the mountains beyond where we again set up camp. Had it no been for the reason that we were there, our camping area would have been a beautiful place for a holiday. The overhanging trees not only provided sanctuary from Japanese planes, but lended itself to the mountain stream and the jungle green as a peaceful mockery of what cold have been. One morning we saw a procession that we thought were small children coming down the mountainside but as they came closer, we realized there were very few greyheaded children and in reality they were pygmies. After giving us an amazing demonstration fo their ability with a bow and arrow, we gave them cigarettes; and they continued on their journey.

Mack and I were awakened several nights by a lot of activity in the jungle growth not far from our tent. We decided that it must be a water buffalo. When it continued night after night, we decided to investigate. In the area where the noise was coming from, we discovered a large hold in the ground with the ground around the hole very slick indicating constant usage. Needless to say, I would have slept better from then on if Mac had not reminded me that the largest python that was ever caught was in northern Luzan.

All of our food supplies were beginning to get low, and it was decided that I would make one more trip into Manila for one more truckload of food and cigarettes. I left Mack behind to take care of things, and two other fellows went with me. Since we had not been in Manila for some time, it was decided that we would all go our separate ways and meet later on. One of the fellows agreed to take the gruck over to the warehouse and have the Philippinoes fill it up. Whether or not they were there at the appointed time, I will never know because I had let the time go by; and when I got there, no one was there. I found one of the boys, and he refused to go back until the following morning. I went to the warehouse and discovered that the other boy had come and oggten the truck and gone back without either of us. By this time you could feel an undercurrent of excitement that seemed to have gripped the city. I stopped a constabulary and asked him what was causing the excitement, and he said there were reports that the Japanese were entering the outskirts of the city. He offered to lend me civilian clothes, but I knew enough to know that under no circumstances did I want to be caught in civilian clothes. He suggested that I might contact other Americans at the cold storage plant in Manila where American food supplies were kept. I acted upon his suggestion; but when I arrived, no one was there. I was sitting on the steps of the plant wondering what to do next, and a small voice said, “Mister would you help me please?”