April 9, 1942 Today in History WWII American Surrender

[Nose Dive]

Today,,,years ago,,,my Dad was 'taken prisoner' on this date due to the surrender on Luzon, Philippines.

My Mom had been there but had escaped to Corregidor, then to Australia on a submarine. SS-190 SPEARFISH. Both were US Army officers.

75k allied personnel were taken prisoner this date. Only 25K were repatriated after Japan's surrender. Of those 25k heroes, 25% of them died in hospital. You can do the math here.

I have written several short articles on Mom and Dad's experiences. Oh yes, before the December 7 Japanese attack, they did date on Luzon.

I am going to paste a bit of one of these articles here. I hope I don't bore you.

(this article refers to a letter Dad wrote to my Mom's mother, Granny Wilson. It is a PDF and I cannot post it here)

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I will refer you to books on Billibid Prison, Cabanatuan Prison, Camp O’Donnell Prison, Japanese Hell Ships, Angels of the Philippines, Corregidor and Bataan Death March and the ship’s logs of USS Spearfish and the Oryoku Maru. My mom and dad are listed as credits in many of these texts as dad was in all of these prisons and ships, he was in the Bataan Death March and mom was a nurse on the Bataan peninsula and on the island of Corregidor during the conflict.

Here is the web link to the USS SPEARFISH Captain’s Log. Mom’s name is listed on page 73 of 489 of the microfilm reel, in the third War Patrol. [Original page number -17- of War Patrol 3] I can’t remember, but I believe, in one report in this microfilm reel from the Pacific Theater operations center that was sent back down the chain of command, a rubber stamped signature caught my attention. It was remarkable feed back to the submarine commanders from their commander and it startled me at its stark, clear, aggressive tone. It was stamped W.F. Halsey. [note: W. F. “Bull” Halsey was later to be named Fleet Commander, South Pacific]
http://issuu.com/hnsa/docs/ss-190_spearfish?mode=a_p
One last note on Dad’s experience aboard the Oryoku Maru (sunk by American forces as he describes) which I believe shows the brilliance of my mother’s mother, Granny Wilson and my Dad. Soon after Mom had gotten word to Granny the she was not ‘MISSING IN ACTION, PRESUMED DEAD’ as the US Army had reported to Granny, Mom told Granny about Dad and asked if there was any word state side about the internees. Certainly, there had been none, but Granny now had a contact to write to in a vain attempt at obtaining any information about Dad to be passed along to Mom. Mom was still in Australia. My Grandmother (Agnes XXXXX) had indeed gotten word via the RED CROSS that Dad was alive and ‘Well’ in Billibid Prison in the Philippines. (Internees were dying at a rate of 500 aday at Billibid) Granny “Ag” had sent information to Granny Wilson as to how best to get ‘Christmas Gifts’ to the internees. I cannot understand the dilemma both women shared. What do you send to men who are Japanese Prisoners of War? Granny Wilson’s answer was as swift and as shrewd as the east Texas farm girl she was. The gift was to be a bottle of vitamins. Unbelievably, at Billibid Prison in the Philippines the bottle of vitamins made it to him. Dad took ½ of one tablet, shared the other ½ with his buddy GAMBLE, (also from New Mexico) and the rest of the vitamins went quickly to the camp hospital. Dad however, saved the bottle and amazingly, this little bottle would later help save his life. Dad’s buddy, Gamble, John D., didn’t make it back to US soil. You can see his name engraved in stone, along with Dad’s, on the Bataan Memorial in Santa Fe, New Mexico.

Once aboard the Oryoku Maru and at anchor in Manila Bay, (see Dad’s explanation of the ship), Dad positioned himself close to the hold in an attempt to get air. This was a precarious place to be as the Japanese soldiers would remove the cover and fire their weapons down into the hold of the ship to quiet the men screaming for water and air. Once quieted down and at anchor, he looked down in the hold and saw the bamboo container, two decks down where the water was kept. He removed shoe strings from dead comrades and fashioned a fishing line. At the end of the line, he tied the empty little vitamin bottle and sat by the hold all night dipping water out of the tub and fished it back to his lap where he had a canteen cup. In 8 hours he dipped enough water to fill the canteen cup ½ full of the brackish water and this he shared with this buddy, Gamble, from New Mexico. That night was a rather rough night in Manila bay. As both men attempted to sleep on the hot, horse manure covered steel floor of the deck, his buddy kept rolling with the waves onto Dad and Dad would gently roll him off. The next morning, when the Japanese opened the cover of the hold and Dad’s eyes adjusted to the light, he realized his buddy (Gamble) was dead. Each morning aboard the ship, before the day’s rations were sent down via the ship’s crane, they would lower a flat platform at the end of the crane’s cable. It went to the bottom hold cargo way then would come up to the next stopping at each deck for a few minutes so the living prisoners could fill the platform with the dead so they could be removed from the hold. When the platform was full or it made its way to the top deck, the platform was raised above the ship’s side rail, swung out over board and dumped into the sea. A Japanese style ‘burial at sea’ for the deceased Americans. At first light, when the platform came to the deck where Dad had sat dipping water the previous night, Dad loaded John D. Gamble, onto the platform and said goodbye to his friend of over 20 years and then watched as the platform was lifted up and out of the ships hold. Once the ship was moved to Subic Bay and while on the voyage to Japan, the Japanese no longer allowed the removal of the dead Americans. Simply, they had no means of disposal other than dumping them in the sea. And, they thought this dangerous as an astute allied submarine captain could merely follow the trail of dead bodies to the ship. (see Dad’s explanation of this.) So, during the entire voyage, they had to pile the bodies up in the hold while they decomposed. Also, please note the day’s rations for the men in the hold was a handful of uncooked rice and a handful of brown sugar. No water was rationed.
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This November it is time for us, Americans, to vote. I urge all to get this done. And I hope by your voting, we elect a team of leaders who believe this country needs more than a bit of harsh language, rude innuendos and some serious finger pointing to protect us and our children from what you have read above.

Nose Dive

Cheap, Fast, Good. Kindly pick two.

[Bad Water Bill]

You do indeed have legendary heros blood in you.

Now to look up the books you have mentioned.

My son and I had the privilege of hearing the co pilot of the Boxcar speak.

One GOODIE WIMP asked him how he could sleep knowing he had killed those 100,000 innocent Japanese people.

His answer was "I sleep very well knowing that by dropping that bomb I probably saved over 1 MILLION American military lives not to mention the countless Japanese that would have been killed or injured if we had to take over each and every island".

[Nose Dive]

Hay BADWATER...yea... I would not be here with out the BOMBS...Dad and his compatriots were down to 80 lbs. See below for some more things I wrote for the SA newspapers that were not published.

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Let me see...give me a few minutes....let me see if I can find some prose I wrote about Dad's input on his liberation after the Japan surrender....


They were 'farming' cockroaches from latrines to boil in sea water to make 'porridge' in North Korea when he was liberated..... Dandilions, snakes, frogs, snails...anything from work details to put in the pot to eat....


I wrote this below for the San Antonio paper.... it was not published.... but...this was after the Fort Hood attack....


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As you will read in the letter, Dad was wounded when the US airplanes sunk the Oryoku Maru. He and about 2,000 US prisoners were aboard. In his letter he will tell you how many of them actually completed the trip to Japan. During this attack he had bomb and deck fragments go through his left hand and lodge in his left cheek just under his left eye. He died with American bullet shrapnel in his face. Thus wounded he had to swim in the sea back to the beach while dodging rifle rounds being shot at them from the Japanese soldiers on the beach. The Japanese thought the men were trying to escape capture instead of trying to escape a sinking ship. I can remember years later while Dad would drive his 4 offspring to sporting events or church, he would grip the car’s steering wheel with his left hand. And, you could clearly see the outline of the three knuckles remaining as the forth knuckle had been blown away by American war planes. These injuries almost cost him his life. Once in Japan, with the arm fully infected and full of puss, he could not bend his elbow or move his fingers. The arm merely stuck out as ‘stiff branch’ at a 30 degree angle form his body. Still, being in this condition, everyday he would volunteer for tree cutting duty outside the camp’s walls. He did so as the tree cutting detail would get back to camp and report for head counts later than any other prison work detail. This was very important. This meant that the soup that was prepared from ‘food items’ (see above) as gathered by the men in the camp would be almost gone and the soup portions saved for the tree cutters was ‘the bottom of the pot’ and this contained more of the ‘solids’ from the soup. Also, the tree cutters brought back more snakes, bugs, leaves and grass to put in the pot. To be ‘approved’ for the detail, the soldiers had to march in front of a Japanese Lieutenant and the American doctor. Either men could force a volunteer to fall out of line and not be allowed to go outside the wire. The Japanese Captain could care less who went. The American doctor was a bit more selective and one day seeing Dad walk with his arm stuck out, told Dad to fall out. Undeterred, Dad simply went to the end of the line and started out again. Again, as he passed in front of the American doctor, the Doctor once again told Dad to fall out and report to the “dispensary”. Dad did so.

The dispensary was a grass enclosure where what medical equipment the men made was kept. Scalpels were sharp bamboo shards that were dipped in hot sea water prior to use. Upon reporting, the doctor asked three corps men to hold Dad. He objected and told the doctor he would not fight or pull back from treatment. The doctor told Dad that it was not to restrain him from flinching from pain but to hold him up so when he fainted so he would not fall and injure himself even more. Now agreeing, the three men held Dad by the underarms. The physician took the bamboo scalpel, ‘sterilized’ it in hot sea water and took Dad’s hand in his. He told him that he should remove the middle finger but would leave the final decision on the finger for later. He incised Dad’s wrist and made a cut that went down the back of his hand, around the missing knuckle, up through and around the middle of the palm on the other side of the hand and back up to the wrist. Being thus opened, the doctor clasped Dad’s arm with both his hands under his armpit and squeezed it tightly, then he ‘milked’ the poison out of Dad’s arm down and out through the incision. The doctor did this several times. Yes, Dad fainted and was taken to the infirmary and laid down on one of the grass mats. When he came to, he could move his arm and hand. This saved Dad’s arm, hand, middle finger and assuredly, his life. This physician saved many men’s life’s and limbs over his three and one half year term as a Prison Camp Doctor. He died of malaria 4 months before the 90 year old Japanese Commandant of the camp turned over his sword and surrendered the camp to the ranking allied officer after Japan’s surrender. The Japanese Commandant, as ordered, told the ranking allied officer where he could find the white paint needed to paint the letters “POW” on the roofs of the buildings of the camp, then retired to his office and committed hari-kari. The white letters were to assist allied pilots in locating the POW camps so as to accelerate the relief efforts to the ex-prisoners. The pilots would air drop food stuffs to the men as really, there were none to be obtained outside the confines of the camp, save that one old caribou.

I forget how I learned of this incident from Dad. I really can’t remember. But, after the surrender the men started to receive radio messages and then ‘fly by’s’ from US airplanes. Basically they were told to stay put and make do until relief forces could make it to them. Shortly after painting the white “POW” letters on the roofs of their huts, they began to see US planes do low fly bys and ‘wiggle’ their wings at the men in acknowledgement of their being located by allied forces. Dad remembered the glee in seeing the first us airplane in 4 years. The prisoners were amazed at their designs and speed. The final camp he was in was in North Korea by the sea. They were mining coal for the Japanese plants in Japan and they would dig and load the coal onto rail road carts and then push them down to the beach where the coal ships would pick up the coal and take it to Japan. Upon liberation, and seeing US relief planes, the men made larger POW letters on the beach. This was to enhance the fly bys and the dropping of food to the men. Their first drop of food was almost fatal. The men were on the beach fishing when a large US plane flew over and banked. It turned and made a lower pass over the beach and wagged its wings, banked again and made another pass over the men on the beach. They looked up and saw relief packages floating down to them. Chaos erupted on the beach as each man began to trail a package down through the sky in an attempt to be the first to catch one and enjoy its contents. The little dots in the sky became larger and larger as they descended. Finally, upon seeing what was going on, Dad yelled for the men to take cover immediately. They all dove under the coal rail cars just in time to have the “packages’ hit the beach. The ‘packages’ were 55 gallon drums full of peaches. Twenty of them. It would have been a sad testament to live through 42 months of Japanese captivity only to be killed by 55 gallon drum of fruit dropped from the sky. The men ate until they could not walk, literally. That night, they slept on the beach to guard the drums from being stolen as they were too weak to move them. All the men had to sleep standing up as when they laid down, they could not breathe.

Today, as I pen this note to you all, we have thirteen new, male and female, heroic soldiers that have given their lives for our freedom at Fort Hood, Texas. Thirteen new heroes resting deep in the loving soil of our Mother State of Texas.

Please remember these fallen heroes, and when you can, assist and support those who remain alive in service to us and to our freedom as we know it in American today.

May God bless and protect each of them.
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OK guys.... have more stuff to offer but... will do so on May 1 when Mom escaped on the SPEARFISH... Once liberated...Dad spent 5 years in hospital in San Francisco. He went AWOL many times chasing my Mom around the USA. He was still protected under standing orders from General MacArthur that no disciplinary action will be executed to any soldier under his command without his personal approval to proceed.


Nose Dive


Cheap, Fast, Good. Kindly pick two.




PS: If you wish to see the class of submarine my Mom escaped from the Japanese...You can! One is on display and you can tour it at SEAWOLF PARK in Galveston Texas. It too is a SARGO class sub as was the SPEARFISH.... ND

[Bad Water Bill]

I still wonder if any of the nurses that were captured then survived the war?

[Nose Dive]

Badwater... Oh YES!!! Mom's unit was ordered off and many others who were nurses who were inturned survived. Verna Ivley comes to my mind...now deceased....she was one of Mom's friends who didn't make it to the beach with Mom and her unit at Bataan when Mom decided it was too 'hot' on the Luzon and she took all down to the peninsula. When the soldiers saw them walking down the dirt road, the grabbed them and put them on a truck and ran them to the beach. Mom 'ordered' the guys to take the truck back and leave them. Two protested and Mom 'pulled rank' and made them leave. Mom got the 13 nurses on a 'raft' on a stream near the beach, while under fire, and it 'flowed' out into the bay.....no oars...just floating in the bay...'girls kicking in the water'.....could have just floated out into the Pacific and all hands lost...but GOD intervened and a Philippine 'junk' saw them...tied on to the 'raft' and towed them to the Island 'Fortress' of Corregidor, where MacArthur was, and they worked there in the Mylattan tunnel until May 1. May 1, she was 'ordered' to gather her nurses and one 'hand bag' per person and report to the mouth of the tunnel. She objected but the ranking Doctor reinforced the order and she complied. All 13 and one corpsman got in a 'jeep'..truck thing...and drove down a ditch to the dock..got on a wooden boat and motored out into the bay....no lights...in the bay...'frogmen' gave a lighted signal...they responded...again came under fire from the Japanese on Bataan...all transfered safely to a 'flat'....and the 'frogmen' took them to a point in the bay....the SPEARFISH surfaced, under fire....took on all from the flat, and re-submerged. Captain went right to the bottom of the bay...ordered 'silence' and stayed there for 23 hours...the old Upshur County 'POSSUM' trick....after that...he came to transport/periscope depth, looked around a bit and then motored out of the bay unscathed. They 'stayed' over the diesel engines,,,had one 5 gallon bucket of water per day for all 13, (to drink, clean, bath, wash, survive..for 3 or 4 weeks while moving through enemy held waters) and made it back to Australia. They ran submerged during the day...surface at night to recharge batteries. No...no one allowed on deck while running hot at night. And...once at Australia... "AUSSIE WOMEN" provided 'all' clothing to all of them. They had nothing other than mirrors, hankies and .38 S&W revolvers Mom made the carry in their bags. I now have Mom's 38. One of my prize possessions.

In Galveston, you can tour the SEAWOLF submarine. It is the same SARGO class submarine as the SPEARFISH. Mom, before she died...took us on a tour of the SEAWOLF. Poor ole seamen on board were bewildered by Mom's tour.

I knew Verna very well. She lived here in SA while Mom and Dad did before they died. She 'showed' wear of her ordeal.

Nose Dive.

Cheap, Fast, Good. Kindly pick two.

[Bad Water Bill]

Here is a short note I found about those that survived.

THE UNIQUE CIRCUMSTANCES OF THEIR INTERNMENT

After the surrender of Bataan, no one envisioned what would come next. First, came the Death March, t hen the horrible filthy POW camps at O’Donnell, Cabanatuan, and Bilibid; then came the Hell Ships transporting American POWs to Japan for slave labor purposes. Then came starvation diets, lack of medical attention, beatings, atrocities such as torching our POWs at Palawan, beheading and vivisection of some of the B-29 crewmen, and more. Statistics show that 37% of the American POWs died while a prisoner
of war, whereas, only 1% of the POWs in Germany died while a prisoner of war. The residual effects of the prisoners of war of the Japanese military still haunt the former POWs to this day. There has never been an accountability by the Japanese government or its industries for this extreme mistreatment of American prisoners of war. The media seems to have ignored the actions of the Japanese military. Even the U.S. Department of State supports the Japanese position as to accountability for their actions during World War II

After WW2 I was given 2 BUSHEL BASKETS full of books about the war and things that reportedly happened then.

If any of those stories were true then Verna Ivley must have had nightmares for the rest of her life.

[OS OK]

Here is a short note I found about those that survived.

THE UNIQUE CIRCUMSTANCES OF THEIR INTERNMENT

After the surrender of Bataan, no one envisioned what would come next. First, came the Death March, t hen the horrible filthy POW camps at O’Donnell, Cabanatuan, and Bilibid; then came the Hell Ships transporting American POWs to Japan for slave labor purposes. Then came starvation diets, lack of medical attention, beatings, atrocities such as torching our POWs at Palawan, beheading and vivisection of some of the B-29 crewmen, and more. Statistics show that 37% of the American POWs died while a prisoner
of war, whereas, only 1% of the POWs in Germany died while a prisoner of war. The residual effects of the prisoners of war of the Japanese military still haunt the former POWs to this day. There has never been an accountability by the Japanese government or its industries for this extreme mistreatment of American prisoners of war. The media seems to have ignored the actions of the Japanese military. Even the U.S. Department of State supports the Japanese position as to accountability for their actions during World War II

After WW2 I was given 2 BUSHEL BASKETS full of books about the war and things that reportedly happened then.

If any of those stories were true then Verna Ivley must have had nightmares for the rest of her life.

Yes, I've read one of those books by a POW that survived the Death March, worked the infamous rail road building and then, if that wasn't enough…was shipped to Japan where the Japs happily marched them down the public streets and let the civilians 'have a go at them'! "My God!" After McArthur got there he went to rounding up all the Japs he could for the Nuremberg trials among his other duties but there were a few 'still almost able bodied POWs' that took the iniative to get even…even though it was illegal to do so. I would have been inclined to join in also!
In the early 50's Western Auto Stores started selling the plastic portable AM radios, Dad surprised me on my birthday with one of them I had been 'eyeing' in the display case. When I received it and saw 'Made in Japan' stamped on the back side…I just looked at Dad in wonderment…He never did explain, but us kids in Texas were raised with a hatred for those Japs. For me it's not quite the same as then but like you it still grinds me.

charlie