"A large Ammo dump approximately 100 yards from the Company C.P. caught fire. The C. P. was moved to a safe position; The dump exploded but caused no casualties."

"During the great explosion today in the enlisted men barracks, Pfc Whall & Pierce, George was lightly wounded & all blinded (sic) from phosphorus shells. The same shell started the fire & explosions. The remainder of the stay on the Rock was spent on perimeter on Topside along the barracks."

Still finding merchandise. Someone found a large quantity of Wellington boots. I believe this was in the area of the old Post Headquarters Building where our company CP was located. It was thought these were for Jap pilots. There were many small sizes which did not fit our feet. When I got there all the larger sizes were gone and there were many boots lying on the concrete floor. I believe Red LaVanchure had found a pair which were size seven. He had a small foot, size seven.

I almost missed the explosion of the RCT ammo dump at Topside Barracks. This happened Sunday morning 4 March 1945, and I was an eye witness. On that morning I was standing on the second story veranda of Topside barracks. Several of us were standing there talking. Located just to our right on the ground near the RCT headquarters and Harold Templeman's Red Cross station was the large ammunition dump. Someone called out excitedly, "Look, that box is smoking!" We could plainly see a wooden box of white phosphorus hand grenades smoking. This box was on the outer edge of the dump. As we were rapidly evacuating the area we saw two men running toward the smoking box despite cries to get out of there! The men picked up the case and it exploded. I do not know how they survived. The dump erupted into a series of explosions which destroyed the dump and a section of the building adjacent to the dump. Pfc Frank Whall never returned. Pfc George Pierce returned for duty at Negros. These two 2nd platoon men had gone over to the barracks to get water.

 They risked their lives to avert the explosion. Their brave act was never recognized.

On perimeter preparing to move out. Reg't ammo dump burned.

Presentation of awards took place. Lt. Hill was presented the Silver Star and Pvt. Jandro the Silver Star posthumously. Pfc Cubbage and Lt. Corder were awarded the Bronze Star."

No entry

Another ceremony was held at the flag pole. Major General Hall,  XI Corp Commanding General, came out to the Rock to hold an awards ceremony. It appears that a number of officers and men had to be selected for awards. Many recommendations had been sent in for awards, but these had not been approved and returned, so each company was directed to select a certain number for Silver Star Medals and Bronze Star Medals.

No entry

Co. broke camp at 0730 and moved via truck to South Dock. Co. Boarded LCI 545 at 1500 and sailed at 1700.

March Company loaded on LCI (L) 645.

Company boarded LCL (sic) hoisted anchor & were under way at 1700 & left Rock in the distance.

No entry

"H" boards LCI #607 and sets sail for return to Mindoro(Mullaney, Diary Note.)

"I" boards LCI #607 and sets sail for return to Mindoro (Mullaney, Diary Note.)

The number of trucks to transport the RCT was limited. The 1st and 2nd Battalions were on Topside along with the artillery, Regimental Headquarters and Service Companies, and others. Note the early hour of 2nd Battalion Headquarters and Headquarters Company, then D Company followed at 0730. I don't believe F company left Topside until after noon. I do remember we rode down. I remember we were very interested in seeing Bottomside, because we had not been there. We had lined the road at Middleside to guard MacArthur's route to Topside. I know we went over to the North Dock area, then to the Officers Beach where we looked some suicide boats over. Then we looked at the East Entrance to Malinta Tunnel. I remember there were many rusty 03 Springfield barrels and parts along with splintered stocks which our troops had destroyed before surrendering. As I remember-all too soon it was time to load and shove off at 1700 hour.

Evidently during this time the LCI's were moving in, loading and sailing out into the North Channel. As I remember only one or two other LCI's were loading as we loaded, so this must have been staggered.

The thing which drew our great interest, though, while we were looking around was the Japanese "Shinyo" (suicide) boats. Some of these boats had attacked our fleet when it moved in on Corregidor before the assault. An LCM gunboat had been sunk. Had a amphibious assault been the sole attack, these boats would have played a larger part most likely. The boats I saw had old Buick automobile motors powering them. Before the war, people in the United States well well aware that the Japs were buying old cars from junk yards across the entire country. I remember hearing some old, wise heads saying that we'd be getting that steel fired back at us someday. But this is like Demosthenes futile efforts to rouse the Athenian's... no arms - just live for the day, or as Neville Chamberlain said, "Peace in our time."

The boats demonstrate the type of people we were fighting. There was no way the operator could escape death.

The explosives were stored in front of the boats. A sheet of galvanized steel curved around the inside of the bow. About six inches inside this sheet was another galvanized sheet, nails were driven through the outer sheet with their sharp ends pointed toward the inner parallel sheet. A battery was wire to the sheets so that if contact was made between the two sheet the electric circuit was completed detonating the explosive. Thus any crushing of the bow of the boat by as much as six inches set off the large explosive charge. National archives photo number 111-SC-263697 shows three of these "Shinyo" boats at Officers Beach.

In spite of poor intelligence and the resulting mismanagement, the airborne landing was a brilliant success. This was a classic example of using the parachute assault to its maximum effectiveness. The superior training, aggressiveness, and toughness of the troopers overcame the errors and mistakes. For the most part we were happy, and relived, to be leaving this dusty mass of wreckage where death lurked at every turn. Possibly just as great an emotion was intense pride; we had retaken our great fortress marking this event forever as the high water mark of our lives, or at the least ranking with the high water marks. Memories were indelibly burned in our minds for so long as we shall live. Yet not all was joy. We were leaving behind some forty-nine battalion brothers who would never grow old. Even after forty-five years the grief is still there. Another thought which survives the years is the haunting question, why them and not me?

At 1700 hour the LCI's began their departure. The little ships (they were bigger than boats) formed a long line of single file and set a course for Mindoro. Even though there were fewer ships than would have been required to transport the RCT, our ships were not crowded as they usually were with a full compliment of soldiers, an Infantry com­pany. Corregidor gradually faded in the distance - from sight- from our minds, nevermore.

The winds rose with the coming of dark, and the seas became wild. The LCI's seemed to stand on one end and then the other. To doze meant to be thrown out of your bunk onto the unyielding steel deck. Most of us tried various means of tying ourselves onto the bunks with out web equipment.

At dawn most of us were up inspecting our surroundings. Some were hanging onto the railings, heads over the side desperately trying to throw up when there was nothing left to throw up. The galley was particularly noisy. The galley was manned by one cook who prepared meals for the crew. The passengers had to bring their own field rations aboard. In this instance the ship's cook seemed to be the sickest of all, hanging on the chains at the fantail. I don't think he really cared if he hung on or not- a fall into the deep might bring on the peace of Davy Jones's Locker and end all this misery. A look into the galley disclosed the source of the noise. A large frying pan with associated utensils was bouncing from wall to wall. Raw eggs had hit the walls and run down to the floor. Evidently the cook held on long enough to get several eggs into the pan ready to cook when he was overcome, dropped everything and headed for the fantail. The old salts were not happy with this land-lubber who had yet to gain his sea legs. They were hungry.