Where
we went next, I don't remember, but it seems in moving we ran in-to another
outfit who had no combat experience and word came for me to take a couple of
men and see if I could rescue two of their men who had been wounded and were
pinned down. By the time we got there, most of the gunfire had stopped. I went
on out, picked up one of the wounded and carried him to where the medics could
get to him; then went back and helped bring the other one out.
Then
while trying to find out which way my outfit went,
I felt something wet and sticky on my right hand.
When I looked at it, it was all bloody. I thought
that last guy must have been bleeding more than I
realized, and wiped my hand off. A few minutes
later my hand felt wet and sticky again. I knew
then that it must be my blood, and sure enough,
when I looked down I could see where the bullet
went through my breeches leg and out. I dropped my
pants down to get a better look. It was only a
flesh wound but there was a red streak, pencil
size and nearly an inch long, on the inside of my
leg. Wetting my handkerchief, I tried to wipe that
red off, but it wouldn't wipe. I went on looking
for my company and when, after about ten minutes,
I decided I better look again, this time that
streak had advanced a good 3 inches up my leg. I
knew then it must be blood poisoning and I had
better find a medic. Someone told me I would find
one about 800 yards over, set up under a shelter
1/2. He gave me a shot and some tablets and told
me to sit there a few minutes and watch that
streak. Sure enough, in 15 minutes it started to
recede, and how relieved I was! The next thing I can
remember was when I
contracted yellow jaundice.
They sent me into Bacolod
where I caught up with Rod
again. They put me upstairs
in the courthouse. I washed
my clothes that evening and
hung them in the window some
30 feet abovethe ground.
Next morning all I had left
was my shoes and socks...
.during the night some Gook
had scaled the wall and
stolen my clothes. For a
solid week all I had was a
towel, and to make matters
worse, nothing tasted good
any more.
One day I looked out the
window and saw a truck
loaded with blue denims
stopped outside. I ran down,
told him my sad story, and
he said No Deal -- those
clothes were for another
outfit. I said "Over my dead
body." He saw I meant
business and then said, "I
got to go inside a minute."
I got me some denims and
left.
Later Rod took me to some
lawyer's house. We were
served greens with boiled
eggs on top that tasted
good, and I knew I was about
well. I believe it was about
then that our planes were
dropping leaflets all over
for the Japs to come in and
surrender.
We were stationed in a tent
on an outpost and began to
take prisoners as they
started to drift in -- first
one or two at a time --
later they came in small
groups. A few days later we
got word that everyone with
175 points and over were to
be returned to the states.
I never did know what they
meant by "points" but when
they called my name, I
loaded up with the rest on a
truck which carried us to
some small village near a
port. When we arrived, there
was a large tent set up but
no one in sight. We stashed
our barracks bags and headed
into town. On our end of
town everything was
deserted.
We could hear a loud noise
on the far end of the
village. Since we had turned
in our weapons, two of us
decided we should creep down
and see what all the racket
was about. People were
yelling and carrying on like
crazy. We could see no Japs
so finally I eased out and
asked what was going on.
They told us that the U. S.
had dropped an atom bomb on
Japan proper, and Japan had
surrendered. Everyone
celebrated that night at a
two-story house. Too many
people upstairs were
dancing, and the house fell
in. Some were hurt.
The next morning we were
told all transportation was
frozen and so we sat in that
location for about two weeks
before boarding a ship for
home. We were highly
disappointed because we
would like to have seen
General Coney and his famous
Samurai sword (we were later
told he did not bring it in)
that, according to some of
the diaries we brought in,
had beheaded many American
soldiers captured. We felt
that by one day we had
missed out on the main
event.
I know I've left out several
events that took place on
that Island, but my memory
is so fuzzy about some of
these things that I'm not
sure which of those were on
Negros and which were some
other place. I always tried
to forget most of the war,
and until recently never
talked unless I had a few
drinks. Now I know some
things will never be
forgotten, and regret I did
not keep notes on when and
where in particular. Rod and
Keith Newman were a little
younger than I, and could
better have given you the
history you wanted. Sorry,
but I never realized how
much my memory had failed me
till I tried to reconstruct
this. I left out some (most)
names on purpose because I
believe only the Chaplain
should be permitted to name
names. If you can use any of
this, O.K. If not, contact
Keith, or Striebe (topkick),
or Marshal (first lieutenant
then).
The first time I became
aware that the Japs were
practicing cannibalism was
after we, the 3rd Battalion,
had set up headquarters
around the N.E. water hole
or spring.
One day while on a scouting
patrol, a small party of us
found a Nip noncom (dead) in
the edge of a wooded area.
His legs had been carved up
the same way you would slice
meat off a ham to make
sandwiches. We knew there
were not supposed to be any
cannibals this far north,
and he looked to have been
shot - not speared or
arrowed.
Hendren and I, with 4 or 5
others, decided to set up an
ambush one day on a grass
hut we had seen some Nips go
in. After spraying the hut,
Hendren and I went in to see
what papers and insignia
they might have on them. We
thought they were all dead -
one in particular was shot
up so bad we turned our
backs on him. While
gathering papers and
insignia, I heard scuffling
behind me, turned around,
and saw that one had one
broken arm around Hendren's
neck and was trying to stick
a knife in his ribs, but the
point kept hanging up in
Hendren's webbing. I could
not believe it -- the whole
top of this Jap's head was
shot off! After that, we
never turned our backs on a
Nip till we were sure he was
dead.
A few days later some
natives wanted someone with
weapons to go with them to
work their garden which was
a couple of miles down the
southern trail from us. I
volunteered to lead and
someone else brought up the
rear. It seemed that the
Nips had been kidnapping
some of the younger natives
and they were never seen
again. Rodriguez insisted I
take his tommy gun with the
50 round drum instead of my
M-1.
The natives and I and one
other 503rd'er left early
the next morning and stayed
all day. We saw no Nips.
Returning to camp late that
evening, I stopped the group
at a curve in the trail that
crossed a small creek in a
deep ravine only about 500
yards from camp. The idea
was to give anybody coming
toward us time to cross and
come up where I could see
them. After a reasonable
length of time I signaled,
for everyone to start moving
again. To my surprise, when
I looked down the trail I
could see the legs in wet
khakis of about a dozen men
coming up out of the ravine.
The upper part of their
bodies were hidden by
low-lying branches across
the trail.
Instantly I thought some of
our battalion was sending
out a night patrol, so I put
the safety on the tommy gun,
slung it over my shoulder,
and with my right hand held
high, stepped out in the
open (I didn't want anybody
to get trigger happy when
they saw us as we were not
over 30 feet from them by
now). When I stepped out, to
my surprise I found myself
face to face with a Japanese
patrol. They too were all at
sling arms. We all dived for
cover on the same side of
the trail. I was so
surprised I had trouble
finding the safety on the
tommy gun. Then when I
squirmed over and around
where I could see, there was
nothing in sight or moving.,
I heard one bird call, then
another farther on and a
repeat as they faded into
the jungle.
As it was about to get dark,
I signaled the natives to
come on as I wanted to make
sure our guards would
recognize us as we came in.
The next morning Lt. Phelan
called Rod, myself and 4 or
5 more from the 3rd platoon
and we struck out to see if
we could find or contact
this Nip patrol. When we got
to the creek (which went
only a short ways to the
east and dumped into the
bay), we found signs that a
large body of men had come
up the creek in the night
and turned down the trail
towards the garden. When we
got to the garden, which
covered about 1-1/2 acres,
it was completely wrecked.
They had pulled up the green
peanuts, the papaw bushes..
.everything, even breaking
open the stems and sucking
the marrow from the hollow
insides. The trail from
there on was easy to follow
and we estimated there must
be at least 1500 and more
with heavy machine guns and
mortars from impressions on
the ground.
After following the tracks
for 2 or 3 miles, Rod turned
to me (I was about 15 feet
behind him) and pointed up
ahead to the left side of
the trail. About 40 yards
ahead there was a log nearly
3 ft. in diameter lying
across the trail. Just the
other side of the log the
trail went uphill for about
50 ft. with tall grass on
both sides with more brush
and trees on the left side
all the way down to where we
were. Sticking out in the
left side I could see the
legs of a Nip. Instantly I
recognized it as being a
good possible place for a
rear guard position or
ambush. Sure enough, when I
looked close on the right
side, I could make out the
barrel of a machine gun
pointed toward us from
underneath the log in the
edge of a huge fern on my
side of the log.
I
gave Rod a bird call but he
never looked back - just
started creeping up on the
supposedly resting Nip. I
gave Rod another bird call
and a third. He still kept
creeping up and on the left
side of the trail where
there was neither cover nor
concealment. By this time I
knew that if the Nip raised
up, Rod would put his gun to
his shoulder and shoot. I
guessed I had maybe 8
seconds to stop that machine
gunner who was most likely
trying to get us all in the
picture.
I
gave a hand signal for
everyone to hit the right
side of the trail on the
double and follow me. Then I
dived into the brush and ran
forward as fast as I could,
with Lt. Phelan about 10 ft.
behind me. Just before I
reached the log, I heard the
pop of a grenade cap and
yelled over my shoulder for
Phelan, "Look out -
grenade!" I knew I had no
time to stop and just hoped
I would not get hit hard
enough to go down. Phelan
said, "Hell, ain't no gren,"
then - BOOM - it went off
between us, blew dirt all
down the back of my neck and
in his face, I know. I did
not get a scratch otherwise,
and I think Phelan was only
slightly nicked. Two jumps
later I was leaping over the
log right by that big fern.
Looking between my feet as I
was coming down, I saw the
Nip who had just thrown the
grenade and I wasted him
before my feet hit the
ground. Even so, I found
myself in amongst four
others -- one aiming down
the trail on the machine
gun, one with his rifle
aiming at Rod, one leaning
over on his rifle peering
down the trail trying to see
where everyone went, and one
with his gun also pointing
down the trail while propped
against a small tree. There
was a wild scramble as I hit
the ground with everyone
trying to get their gun on
me. We were all so close
together I could have
stretched out and touched
each one with the tip of my
gun barrel.
As I swung from one to the
other, firing as rapidly as
possible, I had a strange
sensation, as if we were
reading each other's minds.
One was thinking, "I kill
this Yankee for another
medal and the glory of my
country;" one was killing me
for the pride his wife and
child would have for him (I
could even see the wife in
her kimono bending down by a
small running stream of
water in front of a Japanese
hut while the child looked
on); one just had pure hate
in his eyes as he thought,
"Another Yankee I will
slay;" and then
consternation and disbelief
welling up in each one's
eyes as they realized it was
they who were dying. Even as
these lightning thoughts and
scenes flashed through me
and as I was squeezing the
trigger on number 5, a sixth
stepped out from behind a
tree not 4 ft. from me and
as I looked down the barrel
of a tommy gun with Round
Trees name carved on the
stock, I wondered would I be
able to see the muzzle flash
or would I feel that .45
slug as it smashed into my
face, for I knew it was
impossible to move my gun
barrel toward him fast
enough to get him, too.
Astonishingly, I felt my gun
lurch in my hands one more
time, heard the rifle
report, saw the last Nip
bowl over backward, total
disbelief on his face as
well as on mine. Then I had
the strange sensation as if
two hands slowly slid off
mine. I had the greatest
desire to look behind me and
see who was there, but I
knew it could not be, for
Phelan was the closest man
to me and he was just
rounding the end of the log
to protect my flank.
I told one of the others, as
they came up, to get me a
watch if one had any, since
mine was busted. Phelan said
to get any papers or diaries
they may have had on them.
While I watched up the
trail, you could hear the
breech bolts working on
several automatic weapons,
the guttural commands of the
officers, and the frantic
whacking away of fire lanes.
I yelled out, "Don't get on
that trail till we get past
the bend, and don't tarry!"
We didn't. I'll bet we were
out of there in less than 20
seconds.
The next day we came back
two battalions strong. Rod
and I got almost to the
military crest on a larger
hill a bit further on before
I spied a Nip drawing a bead
on Rod. I wasted him and the
whole hillside came alive
with the sound of breech
bolts slamming shells into
the barrels of their guns.
Rod squatted down behind a
bush. I grabbed his shoulder
and said, "Let's seek cover
and look for Co. "G" since
our job here was to contact
the enemy, then return to
our own company. Some major
was just behind us down
behind a log. I told him to
drop back with us and get
behind the main line of
attack which was fanning out
on both flanks now.
We
found "G' Co. on the right
flank but they said they had
been ordered to withdraw. I
thought this odd as we were
almost to the military crest
of the hill. Later we
determined some Jap officer
had given the command.
Upon checking out the men in
our new position (it was
beginning to get dark), we
had two men missing. I was
told one was killed and one
thought to be wounded but
still able to navigate. That
night we heard the wounded
man screaming and knew he
was being tortured. There
was thick foliage around us
and we knew the Japs were
already dug in (no moon that
night). The next morning we
retook most of that side of
the hill and found the
remains of the wounded man.
He had been carved up - even
the meat on his cheeks had
been cut off, and skin from
his body left in a pile. We
vowed no more prisoners from
this bunch.
The Nips were dug in so
firmly in the coral that the
C.O. finally called on the
Air Force to send in a
flight of A-20s who dropped
parachute bombs that
exploded above ground and
left the dug-in Nips shell
shocked. It was a massacre,
only a good number of Nips
had slipped away during the
night. They asked me to take
a scout and see if we could
find them again.
I picked Keith Newman to go
with me (a new, young kid
with a good head on his
shoulders and a pair of
sharp eyes that missed
nothing). We soon tracked
the Japs down again where
they were regrouped. Keith
and I found some strips of
meat by little stacks of
kindling ... had to be human
meat.
This place was a large flat
bottom with good size trees
and very little underbrush.
Leaning up against a tree
there was a Jap rifle and a
small kindling stack ready
to be lit. At first I began
pulling the bolts from the
rifles and throwing them in
the bushes. Then the further
we entered this bottom, the
more rifles we saw, but no
Japs. At the far end the
trail led up to a higher
plateau and there we could
hear some commotion. We
sneaked up close enough to
see some Japs moving around
without shirts on, and we
could hear Japanese guttural
commands. I guessed they
were doling out rations of
food and water. That was why
there was no one in the
flats where we were. I told
Keith we had accomplished
our mission and we sneaked
out of there as quickly and
quietly as possible.
I reported to Col. Erickson.
He and Col. Jones got the
outfit together and we set
out in pursuit of the Japs.
When we got to the flats
where we found the rifles,
etc., I stopped. The top
brass decided they would go
down maybe as far as we
went, and reconnoiter. I
tried to explain to the
officer behind me that they
couldn't do that, because by
now the Japs had missed
their bolts from some of
their rifles and would know
they had been spied on.
They went anyway, and were
promptly pinned down and
called for help. Sgt.
Crossier quickly got some
men together and went and
rescued them, but not before
two or three were wounded.
The rest of Co. "G" were
ordered to fall back to the
right flank as it was
getting late in the day.
We
dug in for the night that
night. My B.A.R. gunner was
a heavy snorer and sleeper,
so I tied a vine onto his
arm to wake him if he became
too noisy. I had every other
man pull 4 hours guard, then
alternate.
About midnight my B.A.R.
gunner started snoring (he
was in the foxhole to my
immediate right). It was one
of those really black nights
- clouds were solid -
visibility absolute zero.
The time came for my B.A.R.
man to wake and take over
guard duty. I pulled on my
vine. . . .he kept snoring.
I was about to call him when
I heard someone crawling
directly in front of us. I
jerked on the vine. . . . it
broke... .he kept snoring.
The Nip crawled past my
B.A.R. gunner; then turned,
went back the way he came,
and stopped about 30 feet
out front, behind a tree. I
heard a little rustling
noise, then everything was
quiet the rest of the night
except for occasional
snoring to my right. The
next morning I had two men
ease out in front to check.
There behind the tree was my
night crawling Jap asleep
under his raincoat.
Evidently in the dark he had
gotten ,lost and thought he
was behind his own lines.
I believe the First
Battalion led the attack
that day.
We
pushed these Nips pretty
hard. They had no supplies
coming in; we had the main
waterways covered also. They
apparently carried their
wounded till they died; then
cut open their stomachs, got
something out, and carved
the meat off the legs and
sometimes arms. They cut
this meat up in strips and
smoked it like jerky. We
found several bodies like
this after each skirmish.
Then in the final battle
when it was all over, I
discovered three piles of
human skin almost a foot
high. George took a couple
of pictures with our camera
as well as some of the Nips
that had been carved up.
One of our most successful,
escapades at Noomfor or was
due, I thought, to a
scouting trip I made with
Johnny Longoris and John A.
Holmes. We left the water
hole and Third Battalion one
morning, following a
different trail than I had
been down before. About two
miles out, the trail forked.
I left the two John's back
to back while I ventured
down the most promising one.
The two John's were to empty
a clip of ammo and get the
hell out of there if a
number of Nips came up; then
I would know to bypass that
area when I returned.
About a mile up my trail, I
came to a large open pasture
(or maybe at one time, a
cultivated field). It was
rolling terrain so I decided
to go down one side, staying
in the edge of the jungle.
It looked to cover about 300
acres. About 3/4 way down
the side, I could hear some
noise at the far end. About
that time it started to
rain, so I slipped on down
to where I could make out a
group of Japs carrying a
large box or something. As
it was raining pretty hard
by now, I figured I could
crawl up pretty close and
get a better view of what
they were doing. Just as I
got close enough to see good
in the rain, it almost
stopped raining. When I
heard a rustling to my
immediate left, I looked and
there was a Nip sentinel
standing with his back to me
and a poncho over his head.
He wasn't over 10 feet from
me, so I thought I'd better
ease over to my right and
back up some. When I looked
to my right, there was
another one about 15 feet.
Then I started checking the
whole area, as the rain was
slacking up a bit. I counted
12 guards in a circle around
the working group with only
about 25 feet between each
guard, and I was even with
the circle. But the weather
gave me a break and it
started raining heavy again.
I eased on back, got up and
hurried back to the two
John's. They said they shot
at one Jap but he got away.
I found a few drops of
blood, but no Nip.
We returned to Battalion
Headquarters and reported
in. The next morning, Col.
Erickson, Lt. Phelan, some
communications guys (with a
telephone), myself and part
of "G" Co. struck out for
that pasture.
When we got to the edge of
the field or pasture, I had
them wait in the jungle
while I ran down the
southern edge to make sure
that the opening was clear
of Nips. When I got to the
place about where I had seen
the Nips the day before, I
climbed a tree in the edge
of the jungle to be able to
see the entire back side of
the field. Just as I got in
position to see everything,
a column of Japs, four
abreast, came out on the
field from one of three
trails entering the back
side of the field. Then a
second column of two abreast
came down the center trail;
next, another column four
abreast came down the third
trail. I realized that made
ten and easy to count. When
I got to 600 and they were
still corning and headed
straight across the field
toward the colonel, I jumped
down out of the tree and ran
back to those waiting.
Phelan and Erickson had the
map out and when I told him
what I had seen and what was
coming toward us, he figured
the coordinates on the map,
and picked up the phone
which talked to a battleship
he said was about 19 miles
away. By this time you could
hear and even feel the
vibrations of the marching
Japs. He asked for two duds
at said coordinates. The
first (unbelievable) landed
about 35 yards in front of
us; the second, a few yards
further.
Erickson said, "Raise your
elevation 200 to 300 yards
and give us 100 rounds of
big stuff." (By this time we
could clearly hear the
guttural commands of the
Japs.) Then the colonel
said, "Now you all get the
hell out of here because
there may be some short
rounds." We did.
Back at Headquarters, Col.
Jones told the Third
Battalion to stay at the
water hole and he took the
rest and went to check out
the damage. I was much
disappointed he did not take
us and I know Erickson was,
too. Later I talked to a
couple of the boys who went.
They said it was a mess. He
said all they did was polish
off a few wounded and
estimated the total dead
count at around 600.
Word came out that I was
going to be called in for
some kind of medal. I told
Rod that I was leaving on a
three-day patrol and if they
did call for me, that I
would much prefer they gave
that medal to someone who
had given his ALL and just
put me down on the next
furlough list. I knew each
mission was only permitted
just so many medals, and I
was not going to make a
career out of the service,
so I would never even wear
it.
When I returned from my
three-day patrol (three men
and I were ordered to look
for any group or groups of
enemy survivors that may
have slipped out), I was
told to grab my barracks bag
- the plane was waiting and
Rod had left a couple of
days ahead of me. That was
the last I saw of Noomfoor.
(Rod had agreed with me that
a furlough was worth more
than any medal.) We thought
we were going back to
Sydney, Australia, but
instead, we were sent to the
States for a 30-day leave,
after signing at least 5
different sworn statements
that we would do nothing to
delay or prevent our return
to our outfit. Rod left on
the ship before me because
he got to the point of
debarkation (if I remember
right, we shipped out of
Finchaven and shipped in at
Hollandia) a couple of days
before I did. I sat there
for three weeks after he had
shipped out, and was trying
to get a way back to the
503rd when they finally
called my name to ship out
on the next ship. We were
going to meet in Memphis,
but Rod left Memphis on the
return the day before I made
it home.
This is getting long, and I
have left out many vivid
memories that I know
probably would not interest
you. The fact is, I don't
know if any of this is what
you want. It's just that
once I started reminiscing,
these were the memories that
came to me. I guess it would
take thousands of pages to
cover the remembrances of
all of us that are still
alive today.
A Colonel Cotton talked me
into lending him my
pictures, swearing he would
return them as soon as he
had copies made. He said he
wanted to use them in the
trial of war crimes after
the war. I never saw him or
the pictures again. I don't
know what happened to
George's copies, as he was
killed on Negros Island.
However, I believe a Brown,
address___________________
has some of those pictures.
How he obtained them, I do
not know. Only George and I
were supposed to have had
them.
----------------------------------
As a footnote, I would like
to explain the Ml with the
scope mounted on it. Just
before going into combat,
while stationed in Port
Moresby, each platoon was
issued a Springfield 03
rifle. When they handed me
mine, I took one look and
saw it had to be loaded one
shell at a time if the scope
was mounted. In the jungle I
knew most of our fighting
would be close quarters. I
said "no soap" - I was not
giving up my Ml for that
thing. He said, "You have
to, you tied for first place
in the regiment for top
gun." I said, "Give me 24
hours."
I
took the scope, whittled me
out a couple of wooden
mounting blocks that would
sit on the military crest of
the Ml and still let me load
a full clip at a time. (A
day or so earlier, I had met
one Joyce Cox, chief
machinist at the air strip
next to us. Joyce had been a
childhood playmate of mine.)
I rushed over to see Joyce
and told him of my dilemma.
Using my wooden blocks as
patterns, he made two out of
steel and mounted them with
screws on my Ml. Then I
zeroed my scope in and
showed it to Col. Erickson.
He said if I could prove it
to be as accurate as the 03,
we would go that route. We
got in a Jeep and drove out
onto a salt flat. He put me
out, picked up a dead
branch, and drove off about
200 yards or better. Then he
stuck the dead branch in the
ground, fastening a rifle
grenade (it was about 1-1/2
inches in diameter and maybe
10" long) Next, he drove
back to me and said,
"Shoot." I could not pick up
that small an object in my
scope, so I asked which fork
it was in. He said the
second. I then fired, and he
said, "You hit the branch -
try again." I fired about
three more rounds. He said,
"You are hitting the branch.
Let's go see if you are
shooting high or low."
We drove up to the target
and the grenade had 3 bullet
holes in it, but it had not
exploded. I looked and saw
the safety pin was still
screwed in tight. It
couldn't go off because the
firing pin was blocked off
and could not reach the
detonator even though it was
getting quite a jolt from
the bullets.
The colonel looked at it and
said, "Fix as many rifles as
you can before we jump."
Joyce fixed several more for
us, but welded the blocks on
all other rifles. Meanwhile
I took the other two guys
from "G" Co., measured off a
1000-yard firing range, and
set up a man size silhouette
from the waist up. We were
able to zero those guns in
to where they could get 3
out of 8 shots into the
target at 1000 yards. Also,
one man from our company
came up with a range gauge
that he could use on the 60
mm. mortar, and another one
made a gauge you could use
with a rifle grenade. Next,
a chemist expert, Dr.______,
invented colored smoke
grenades most useful when
calling on air support. Col.
Erickson said he was going
to take us to Brisbane and
get patents, but we were
called to jump on Markham
Valley, and that was
scratched.
I think the 503rd was unique
in many ways. It was made up
of all volunteers who came
from all walks of life --
some from major colleges and
even a few who could neither
read nor write; some from
prison, with non-violent
reps; we had one of the
finest bone specialists, a
heart specialist, a priest,
etc. I believe we had
someone from every state in
the union plus Indians,
Mexicans, Cubans, Canadians,
Germans, Hungarians, and I
don't know how many other
countries. They all made up
the finest bunch of fighting
men ever assembled, I
believe, and I am very proud
to have been one of them.
Sometime during the latter
part of the campaign, when
the entire regiment was
pushing a large contingent
of Japs (I was told about
8000), the First Battalion,
who had been in the
forefront most of the day,
was ordered to fall back and
the Third Battalion was to
move up and dig in along the
military crest of a shallow
ravine. As it was about to
get dark, we guessed the
Japs were doing the same
thing somewhere on the
opposite ridge, since the
fireworks had stopped.
Just as we ("G" Co.) were
positioning ourselves to dig
our foxholes, someone - Sgt.
Striebe, I think - came to
me and said HDQ wanted me to
take 3 men and set up an
outpost about 200 to 250
yards in front in case the
Japs decided to make a major
attack that night. I asked
Hendren, plus a new man who
was anxious to get into the
action, and one other (I'm
not sure of the names of the
latter two) if they would go
with me. I know none of us
relished this idea since we
had no radio or phone, and
it would soon be dark. There
was no moon that night --
even the stars would be
hidden by the clouds. I knew
the only way we could warn
our troops would be if they
heard us fighting.
We proceeded down the draw,
passing several dead enemy
soldiers who had been killed
earlier in the day. Our best
cover was at the bottom of
the draw which had about 50
yards of sparse growth on
the Jap side before reaching
taller timber on the top of
their ridge. On our side
there was about 30 yards of
sparse growth with
occasional patches of bushes
between the bottom and top
of the draw.
We felt we were being
watched, so about 250 yards
out, we picked a place near
the bottom where we could
see anyone attempting to
attack us, and hurriedly dug
in. Then as soon as it got
dark, we sneaked out and
back about 50 yards where we
had spotted a small knoll
with some thick brush on it
and just large enough for
four men to crawl up in it
and hide.
Our plan was that if a large
group of Japs did move up,
we would toss four grenades
among them, sneak out the
back side of our hide-out on
the double and at a parallel
to our M.L.R., because in
the dark we did not dare try
to re-enter our own lines
for fear of being killed by
our own troops. Nor could we
stay where we were because
then the odds were that we
could be overrun by the Japs
or killed by our own 4.2
mortars that would be
dropping in with phosphorous
shells in order to break up
any major night attack.
After getting settled down
in the bushes, I realized
from the smell I was
getting, that there was a
dead Jap just about six feet
in front of me. I debated in
my mind for a couple of
hours about crawling out and
dragging him a little
farther away, but decided
not to.
About 10:00 p.m. we heard a
small commotion down where
we had dug our foxholes.
Then there was some loud Jap
whispering. We listened for
several minutes before we
could hear them crawling on
in our direction. I could
tell from the limited amount
of noise that there must not
have been much more than a
dozen. As they got closer to
us, the new man started to
freak out, but Hendren was
close to him and slapped him
hard. That settled him down
and we waited breathlessly.
I heard one let out a grunt
almost in reach of me.
Another one came up and one
of them gently started
probing the bushes with
something. It felt more like
a bamboo pole than a
bayonet, and as it punched
my leg I was tempted to grab
it and attack with my
machete, but since it made
no metallic sound, I held my
breath and waited. This Jap
said something to the other
one. They then began to drag
the dead Jap off.
In about 20 minutes or so,
we heard the group heading
back towards their own
forces farther up the draw.
We all breathed a sigh of
relief and were glad to see
the morning light come up
without any other incident.
We rejoined our outfit and
the push began again.
I guess we were lucky
because I can think of only
three times when the Japs
tried to move in on us with
superior numbers. We were
able to spot them each time
and broke off their Banzai
move by calling on artillery
back-ups. One time was at
night. We were next to a
large field of tall grass,
but someone spotted the
movement and we set the
grass afire with phosphorous
shells; then broke up their
attack with machine gun fire
before the main body got
within 200 yards. In fact,
the only time I can remember
them even infiltrating our
outer perimeter, we only
lost two or three men. It
was a bright moonlit night
and only about 15 or 20 Japs
tried to sneak in on Co.
"G." We were located on a
hillside with woods to our
back, a steep slope on the
left flank where I was
positioned, and a gentle
slope with small brush and
weeds to our front. Having
anticipated some type of
action, we had put out three
lines of cans and grenades
to our immediate front as a
warning system. About 10:00
p.m. we heard the first line
rattle; about 12:00 midnight
the second line rattled;
then about 2:00 a.m. the
third line set off a
grenade. Still we could see
no movements. A soldier in
the outer perimeter to the
front sat up high, so he
could see better, I guess.
Then about 3:00 a.m. a rifle
shot rang out. The soldier
sitting up high was the
recipient. He jumped up; ran
right down among the
charging Japs; then turned
and ran back to his two man
foxhole. I could not shoot
because there were friendly
heads popping up between
them and me, but Little
McLemore was located higher
up in the center, and opened
up with his tommy gun. That
morning we counted eleven
dead Japs, but had lost two
of our own good men and may
have had a couple more
wounded.
It seemed to me that snipers
and ambush was what the Japs
were best at. We had in our
Company a guy from Arkansas
about 3/4 Indian with the
sharpest eyes I've ever
known a human being to have.
His name was Guthrie and on
3 different occasions he
spotted ambushes waiting for
us, and once I could not
pick the Japs up even with
field glasses. I know they
had not spotted us because
we then ambushed the
ambushers.
After looking back on this,
I suddenly realize what a
picnic we had in comparison
to those guys and gals
caught over there in the
beginning of the war, with
only a limited amount of
ammo and supplies.
Outnumbered more than 100 to
1, with the Japs having
almost complete control of
the skies and the seas, they
were the real heroes in this
war, and may we never
forget.
---o0---
A RECOLLECTION OF NOOMFOR
One of the times when I was
sent out on a patrol with
orders to bring back prisoners
for interrogation purposes as
to what we might find on this
island (we were successful in
capturing 4 or 5 prisoners),
one of these spoke very good
English as well as Japanese
and some of the native
languages. He claimed he was a
hunting guide for English
lords and wealthy aristocrats
(Dutch) who were among the
very few allowed to hunt on
this island in peace time.
I don't remember his name but he did convince our
interpreter that he was what
he claimed to be and not a
Jap out of uniform. At first
I thought maybe he was
Taiwan. Anyway, we used him
for a back-up interpreter.
Personally, I thought he was
too intelligent to be a
native.
He seemed to think I was some special G.I. or something
when I asked him about the
huge wild boar I had
encountered on the island.
Once when I was lead man for
the battalion (I had spotted
a large group of Japs the
day before), we got a call
for help from the second
battalion which was supposed
to join us near the
coordinates I had given. The
second battalion had run
into an ambush and were
having casualties. In fact,
we could hear the Jap heavy
machine guns chattering away
-- about 1-1/2 miles from
us, in my estimation. So I
decided to leave the trail
we were on and cut straight
through the jungle toward
the machine gun sounds.
About 30 yards into the
brush, I came around a large
bush and found
myself face to face with the largest wild boar I had
ever seen. Only about 8 feet
separated us. This animal
was tall enough at the front
that our eyes were on a
level, and he had the
meanest bloodshot eyes I
have ever seen.
We
both just froze and looked
at each other. He had two 8"
tusks protruding from his
bottom lip and
hair on his fore shoulders
nearly 6" long. His back
tapered down to much shorter
hind legs with a body nearly
6 feet long. I estimated his
weight to be around 600 lbs.
We both stood perfectly
still for at least 20
seconds before he suddenly
wheeled and disappeared in
the underbrush with only a
whisper of sound from the
parting leaves - not even a
grunt. I breathed a deep
sigh of relief, for I knew
that even had I delivered a
death shot to his brain, it
would not have been enough
to prevent him from reaching
me.
Then this supposedly hunting
guide told me something
strange. He claimed that the
better and braver men who
came there to hunt, valued
another animal found no
other place in the world
other than this island. He
gave it a name I have since
forgotten, for it was one I
had never heard before. But
then he described this
animal as being very cunning
and dangerous. He said it
would stalk the hunter and
kill. He described it as
being about the size of a
very large goat, gray in
color, hooves not split and
a single straight horn 8" to
10" long growing straight
out of its head just above
its
eyes.
This guide then told me he
would take me up into the
high country into the bamboo
thickets where its habitat
was,
because I was a great hunter
and had spared his life. I
was curious about this
animal since to me he had
described a unicorn, but I
would not take off with him
and I told the interpreter
not to trust him. I believe
he would lead you into an
ambush and that he was too
intelligent to be what he
claimed to be.
Later after I had returned
from a 3-day patrol, I was
told they had to shoot him.
Anyhow I never saw him
again.
|