Ch 10 - Surrender

CHAPTER 10

SURRENDERED!

The battery personnel had been notified the Japs were on the island, and surrender proceedings were under way. I was shocked to hear the word surrender! Larson blurted, “What they talking about? Surrender? We got plenty of ammo!” Everyone was shouting and gesticulating, one man threw his rifle against the parapet of Ramsey’s #1 gun. Others were crying helplessly, staring at each other, shaking their heads. Sgt. Fooshee said we were ordered to destroy our equipment and for us to get to it!

We were to quickly destroy all guns and small arms, all records and other items that might be of use to the enemy. I had only my .45 Colt, and my machine gun to destroy. I remembered the 30 cal. on the infantry mount out by the road and I ran out there and crunched the water jacket with the same axe that I used on my other 30 cal. I also removed the bolt from the machine gun and hurled it far out into Ramsey Ravine. I disassembled my 45 Colt automatic and threw the parts in different directions. My valuables had been blown sky high by shell fire, and after wrecking the guns, I helped the guys on the height finder destroy the big tube with my axe. The gun crews took care of the 3” guns. The Jap bombers continued to drop their eggs on the island, and one had to be on the alert at all times.

I gathered together my few belongings which were in my machine gun pit. All we could do was wait for the next move. Somehow, I had never considered the possibility of Corregidor surrendering. I could not comprehend it. I, like the others felt that we would go down fighting. Now no one knew what would happen. At this time the 1st Sgt. sent word around that we must prepare to leave the battery area, to gather our belongings and get ready to move out. Sgt. Fooshee told us that since the island was still under frequent bombardment, we may have to take cover often. He said our destination was the Middleside Tunnel, located up behind the Middleside Barracks. Since none of us were aware of the location of this tunnel, we would be guided by the noncoms to prevent any of us from being separated by the Jap bombing and occasional shelling.

Before leaving the Battery area, we were ordered to make sure anything that might be considered important to the enemy was found and destroyed. Again we were warned that enemy planes might come in low and strafe anything moving, and to be ready to hit the dirt. One of the major problems was the smoke and dust covering the island. The low flying aircraft were upon you before one could react. Fortunately, the trip around Middleside Parade Ground proved uneventful.

Middleside Tunnel, we discovered, was located behind a row of officer’s quarters, just up the hill behind Middleside Barracks where we lived in peace time. It was built westward into the hill. We were held outside the tunnel until one of the sergeants went inside for a couple minutes. Shortly the sergeant emerged from the wooden entrance and soon we were filing inside. The tunnel was ten or twelve feet wide, and lighted by naked light bulbs hanging from the ceiling, and once my eyes adjusted to the dimness, I saw the walls were not concrete, but were sheathed with wood. The men in front of me were being motioned to sit along the wall on the left side of the tunnel, and when I reached the end of the line, I sat down with my back against the wooden wall and watched the others file in. It was very quiet, except for the occasional rumble of shells or bombs in the distance. After all of our men were inside, everything was quiet except for occasional activity back and forth. The hanging light bulbs could be seen far back into the distance. It was hard to believe this tunnel existed this close to our barracks, and was unknown to any of us.

Each of us sat alone with our thoughts. There was little talking. Some of the men drifted off to sleep. Everyone was worn out from the events of the past weeks. A few were eating from cans, probably “C” rations, or whatever they could scrape up and stuff into bags, or knapsacks. I suppose my constant hunger had departed, thinking about what was to happen to us. I was not hungry, just totally exhausted. I wondered if Spence had survived the attack on the east end of the island. Would I ever see him again? We learned the battle had raged fiercely, and little else. I wondered about my friends in Denver (“D” Battery). Surely they were in the thick of things, and did the Japs get into Malinta Tunnel?

Time wore on, hour after hour, just sitting there leaning against the boards lining the sides of the tunnel. The long night seemed endless. I dozed a few times, but like many of the other men I found it very hard to sleep. Many were snoring away, and I could only envy them, but thoughts of what tomorrow might bring, and the inability to lay down and stretch out were more than enough to hold off sleep, something we all needed.

As with all things, the morning did arrive. I was stiff and sore from sitting on the hard floor. I must have dozed off, and was startled awake by much commotion and activity. I had forgotten where I was!

“What’s going on?” I asked the man next to me.

“An officer just went by, and he said the Japs want us outside!”

Everyone was climbing to their feet and gathering their belongings together. I thought, “this is it!” and got in line. As we left the mouth of the tunnel, we were blinded by the sunlight, and I groped my way through the entrance and followed the men ahead of me down the slight grade away from Middleside Tunnel. The large cluster of men grew as more and more emerged from the tunnel.

Now a ragged column of fours was being formed by an American Officer who was being prodded by a Jap officer. The Jap officer began to count as he walked along the column. He counted off about eighty to a hundred men and shouted at the American Officer to move the column down the road toward the parade ground. I was to the rear of the column and it was some time before we could move forward. As we passed along behind Middleside Barracks, the damage was apparent everywhere I looked. When the column reached the end of the barracks it wended its way around and through a multitude of bomb and shell craters. I was amazed that anything was left of the Middleside Barracks, but the large structure stood mostly intact. A pall of black smoke hung in the air, and occasionally explosions could be heard in the distance. This once beautiful island was now a smoking ruin!

The column slowly wended its way out onto the Middleside Parade Ground where men were already gathered in rows, their belongings on the ground before them. Small, uniformed Japanese soldiers arrogantly sorted through the articles, grabbing anything that caught their eyes. The hollow words “To the victors go the spoils” echoed through my thoughts as I was prodded into place at the end of the line. The Japs were small, some with a few straggly hairs growing from their chins, narrow puttees wrapped the calves of their legs and the caps they wore had flaps hanging down on their shoulders. These little Japs were a perfect example of soldiers often referred to as shock troops, [1] or “cannon fodder”. They were everywhere! They were plundering through anything visible, they took what they wanted, watching the Americans from the corner of their eyes. One of them stopped in front of me, grabbed my arm and jerked my watch from my wrist and threw my arm down. He rooted through my small knapsack, then threw it back to the ground disgusted. This thievery continued endlessly, as one after another of the runty Japs made their way along each row of Americans, grabbing and taunting, slapping and sometimes kicking the helpless American prisoners. I noticed Jap soldiers setting up machine guns around the periphery of the parade ground, and I wondered if they planned to cut us down after they played their little game.

Men were still filing slowly into the parade ground long after I had arrived. I looked around me, but I recognized no one near me. The sun continued to grow warmer as we stood there, in partial shock, numb from the recent events and helpless to do anything but wait. I had a half a canteen of water, one can of ‘C’ rations and little else, and standing there in the sun began to further weaken me. Glancing about, I realized that many were far weaker than I. Some of the men could hardly stand up without weaving, and shuffling about. Too much movement often brought cuffs from a rifle butt, or the toe of a boot. I often glanced at the Jap machine gunners that circled the parade ground. The guns were all pointed inward toward us menacingly, a Jap soldier seated behind each, sighting down the barrel, and alert. I had already decided to hit the ground fast if any firing commenced. There was always a slim chance of playing dead until dark, but I wondered, “where would I go?” The island was small, and the likelihood of finding food, and remaining alive was hardly something to look forward to.

But the Japs did not shoot anyone. Numerous prisoners were beaten and kicked savagely when they resisted the soldiers taking their personal belongings. A rifle butt is brutal weapon when wielded upon a helpless individual, unable to fight back. This brutality continued throughout our stay at the Middleside Parade Ground, the thud of rifle butts common, and the moans and cries of the prisoners could be heard throughout the open area, crowded with others like myself. Fortunately, I escaped with only slaps and cuffs about the head. One man a few yards from me was forced to endure a terrible beating for simply resisting one of the soldiers when the Jap took the man’s family pictures from his billfold. When the enemy soldiers began lining us up to move from the parade ground, other men nearby had to half carry the beaten man along. One expressed fear that one of the Japs might kill the helpless American soldier if he failed to walk with the others.

My location on the parade ground was near the northeast corner of the field and since the column was being formed from that corner, I found myself near the front as we began to march onto the road. The column was herded toward the road down to Bottomside, and as we turned left to go down, I looked to the right, back to Battery Ramsey, wishing that we were still fighting, wishing that we could fight back. At the corner on the right as we started down, I glanced at the machine gun position that I constructed to cover the road from Bottomside, and the edge of Ramsey Ravine. The gun had never fired a shot!

The column of prisoners moved slowly, filing it’s way downward. On the right, we passed what was left of some type of a blue vehicle, apparently destroyed by shell or bomb. It was resting on the shoulder of the road, on the very edge of the drop-off of Ramsey Ravine. Punctured barrels, powder cans and other types of debris littered the road. To the left, on the north side of the road, the remains of the Engineer’s offices squatted among the tree stumps. A tree was a rare commodity on Corregidor, the shelling had practically wiped the vegetation from the entire island. When we had passed along the length of Middleside Barracks, I had noticed even the big mango trees that had bordered the open area in front of the barracks were also splintered and nearly destroyed.

The column wound down the road until Bottomside was in view, oily black smoke covering the landscape. The surface of the hills on both sides of the road resembled photos of the moon. Huge craters everywhere, ruins of former structures, seemingly acres of corrugated metal strewn everywhere. The Corregidor that I had known was no more! Bottomside was in shambles! To our right, the remnants of Barrio San Jose lay smoking. Since all of the buildings of the Barrio were of wooden construction, few walls were standing. Once past the Barrio, we began to climb toward Malinta Hill. I thought they were going to march us around the South Shore Road, but that was not the intention of the Japanese, they were going to march us right through Malinta Tunnel!

It was mass chaos passing through the tunnel! It was crammed with desks, beds, piles of boxes of various kinds of supplies, and people! The Japs soldiers could be seen pilfering through boxes and file cabinets. Our column was forced to narrow down to two men abreast to pass between the litter. It was almost a relief when we again entered the sunlight at the east end of the tunnel, but that was short lived after we had proceeded a few yards. I almost came to a stop, causing the man behind me to walk on my heels. On the right, just off the road, lay the body of a Marine! The body was already bloated, flies crawling over the face. A few yards more and yet another lay next to the road, this in a similar condition.

“The bastards have dragged them here to break our spirits!” The man next to me said softly. I could only nod and plod on. We continued onward, following the man ahead, our eyes at times, unseeing.

CHAPTER 11

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[1] Numerous authors refer to the Japanese landing troops as “Imperial Marines”, and “Japanese Naval Landing Party”(JNLP). This is nonsense. The attacking troops were the lowest level Japanese Army troops! <BACK>