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Following our stays in Manila and on
Corregidor we caught a Philippine Air Lines domestic jet to Bacolod,
Negros. The stay on Negros was a series of "High Points".
The Bacolod
airport is somewhat equivalent to the one here in Santa Rosa – there are no
jet-ways, only stairs which are rolled out to the plane. As we went down the
stairs we could see this was going to be something to remember! The Mayor of
Bacolod was the first person to greet each of our people. Then at the foot
of the stairs we walked, literally onto a red carpet which had been rolled
out for us. A few feet away a High School Band played enthusiastically, In
front of the band a Corp of drum majorettes twirled their batons. On each
side of the ramp leading into the airport building Cadets from the
Philippine Marine Academy were waiting with crossed sabers for us to pass
under. Once inside many local people who remembered individual veterans and
who had stayed in contact, were waiting to meet us. For example, I had
received a letter from a woman representing a large family with a Hacienda
near the North end of the Island asking me if I knew some men they had
known. I knew several and as it happened, one of the men she mentioned was
with us. He is retired from the FBI and the legislature in Connecticut.
When I mentioned the family to him he was very excited because he remembered
the people well. My contact met us and I was able to reintroduce these
people. This example is only illustrative of several such connections after
50 years had passed.
As our stay
on Negros continued we found our program more or less followed a pattern. We
would travel by bus to a town where we would be met by the mayor and a group
of local people which included veterans, politicians and local people of
importance as well as just plain people who remembered us.
Schools
would be let out so the children could come to see the Americans they had
heard about all their lives. The children would sing songs or perform dances
for us. The Mayor would make a speech, there would be a response and we
would retire to a luncheon table where every delicacy was possible would be
waiting to tempt us. Each end of the table would hold a whole roasted pig,
head and all.
On our first
night on Negros we were entertained for dinner at the home of the Mayor.
On our
second night on Negros we had dinner in the home of a woman who treated us
royally. Her husband had been the head of the local guerilla intelligence. I
had met him but had mainly dealt with his operatives. He died a number of
years ago. His wife had a story worth telling: About the time the 503rd
had landed on Negros she had twins – a boy and a girl. The boy died of
malnutrition and the girl near death. Our of our men gave her powdered milk
which she believed all these years saved her daughter’s life. Incidentally,
the daughter traveled from her present home in Manila to see the Americans
who had provided the milk.
Our group
spent one afternoon at Hacienda Rosalia, the Gaston ancestral home with
members of the Gaston family. They credit the 503rd
with saving the home from being burned by the Japanese in 1945 and are not
ashamed to tell about the circumstances. We were told the family has annual
reunions when as many as five hundred Gastons return.
One day we
helped the Governor Coscolluela celebrate his 48th birthday in
the capital building in Bacolod. The old one still stands and I found rooms
in it I’d known in 1945. The last evening in Bacolod the governor hosted a
dinner in our honor. Again, there were many speeches by both sides. We were
just about to leave for our hotel when someone came up to me and said there
was someone I should meet. The man was about our age, fairly tall and did
not look like a Filipino. He said with a big grin " I Japanese. I up in
Mountains". One of our men came up to him, pointed his finger at the
Japanese and said "We missed you". He laughed very heartily and to
show there were no hard feelings was at the airport the next day to see us
off for our return to Manila. Unfortunately, he spoke little English. I’d
have liked to have heard about his experiences in the mountains.
Before we left Manila for Negros I
received a letter from Brigadier General Victor Mayo, Commanding General
of the Philippine Special Forces Airborne Regiment. He invited us to
attend an informal "Gathering of Eagles" as he put it, at Fort Bonifacio
in Manila upon our return from Negros. Again there were many speeches on
both sides but they led to having General Mayo pin Philippine jump wings
on each of our men. In addition they gave each of us Crystal beer mugs
inscribed with their Special Forces insignia. This was the last but not
the least of our "HIGH POINTS".
Filipinos
are a curious lot. They wondered what we were doing in the Philippines,
particularly on Negors where they don’t see many Americans these days. We
were continually asked why we were there. When we told them we were coming
back to commemorate the times we had fought there 50 years ago they
understood and almost invariably remarked "Oh, a Sentimental Journey!" and
were satisfied. They nod their understanding.
It really
was a "Sentimental Journey!".
