Blood Brothers by Eugene C. Jacobs (romantic novels to read txt) 📖

girls following along on horseback. Natives told us, “Those young girls were seized from their homes along the highway by the Japanese.” 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 Japs 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 Japs were putting out much propaganda such as “Asia for Asiatics” (which really meant “Asia for the Japanese”); 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 communiqué 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 classes. 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 butt, sir! None of us had ever seen a white butt 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!”

The next day we learned from Filipinos coming down from the north that “Guerrilla groups are forming in the Cagayan Valley!”

Again we thanked the Red Line Bus Co. family for their hospitality and courtesies. Traveling at night, because the Japanese occupied the roads during the day, we were able to reach a small detachment of soldiers guarding Balete Pass. We spent several hours, learning about the troops at Bambang, Bayombong, Bagabag, and Jones.

The following day we made the long, hot and dusty hike to Bambang, where we found a platoon of soldiers; they had destroyed several large bridges across the Magat River to keep the Japanese cavalry from making their daily excursions. The soldiers informed us that Major Warner was the C.O. of the Guerrillas. Warner and I had to make a survey of Camp Hay after the first bombing, looking for “duds” (bombs that didn’t go off). We found one dud that had brass fins on it made out of an old T Ford radiator. We could still see the Ford imprint on it.”

After a good night’s rest in a real bed, and a native breakfast, we were off to Bagabag and Jones on the old dilapidated truck that must have had 300,000 miles on it. We were soon passing through rice and tobacco fields in the fertile Cagayan Valley.