BATAAN DEATH MARCH A Soldier s Story

Transcription

1 BATAAN DEATH MARCH

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3 BATAAN DEATH MARCH A Soldier s Story James Bollich Foreword by Jesse Knowles PELICAN PUBLISHING COMPANY Gretna 2003

4 Copyright 1993 By James Bollich All rights reserved First Pelican edition, 2003 The word Pelican and the depiction of a pelican are trademarks of Pelican Publishing Company, Inc., and are registered in the U.S. Patent and Trademark Office. ISBN: Printed in the United States of America Published by Pelican Publishing Company, Inc Burmaster Street, Gretna, Louisiana 70053

5 To my brothers, Andrew and Stephen, who lost their lives fighting in the European theatre of operations, and to all the brave soldiers who died in battle and in prisoner of war camps during World War II.

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7 Contents 1. Entering the Service The Philippine Islands The Enemy Comes Arrival in Bataan March Out of Bataan Camp O Donnell Bridge Detail Cabanatuan The Ship Pusan, Korea Mukden, Manchuria The Factory New Camp Air Raids Guardhouse Diary of James Joseph Bollich P.O.W The Russian Encounter Leaving Mukden Aboard Ship Okinawa Manila Across the Pacific San Francisco

8 8 BATAAN DEATH MARCH 24. San Antonio Going Home Discharged MAPS 1. The Philippine Island of Luzon Enlarged portion of Luzon Island showing Bataan Peninsula FIGURES 1. Tropical uniforms issued at Fort McKinley Bivouacked in coconut grove at Lipa Author is slightly wounded by exploding bomb, which killed American soldier in nearby foxhole In machine-gun position at Cabcabin Field Cabcabin Field being attacked by Japanese dive-bomber Bataan falls to the Japanese American soldiers on Death March out of Bataan Exhausted American prisoner being beaten by Japanese soldier Dead American prisoner on Death March American prisoner being beaten with wine bottle Prisoners being shot as they rush artesian well for much-needed water Prisoner drinking out of polluted mud hole Only a trickle of water for an endless line of thirsty men Hordes of large green flies at Camp O Donnell

9 Contents Burial detail at Camp O Donnell Grave-digging detail at Camp O Donnell American prisoners being executed for attempted escape Overworked bridge detail at Gapan Burial detail at Cabanatuan Washed down with fire hoses on pier at Formosa Being pulled from the ship s hole at Pusan, Korea Marching to factory from old camp in Mukden, Manchuria Having teeth pulled at new prison camp in Mukden New camp bombed by American B-29 planes Serving time in guardhouse Food and clothing being dropped by American planes Unpleasant encounter with Russian soldier Challenging Japanese officer on horseback Mine-damaged ship floundering in typhoon off Okinawa

10 Foreword James Bollich and I followed almost identical paths prior to and during World War II. We both joined the U.S. Air Corps at Barksdale Field, Shreveport, Louisiana, and were both assigned to the 27th Bombardment Group. Both of us took part in the 1940 maneuvers, and we both went overseas on the same ship, arriving in the Philippine Islands eighteen days before the outbreak of hostilities. After the war started we both served as infantry soldiers in defending the Philippines because our planes never arrived as intended. Both of us were captured when Bataan was surrendered to the Japanese by American General Edward P. King, Jr., and we both made the Death March out of the peninsula to the concentration camp established by the Japanese at Camp O Donnell. From there we went on a Japanese work detail to rebuild a large bridge that had been destroyed during the fighting. When the detail was abandoned, we were sent back to the prison camp at Cabanatuan. From Cabanatuan we both became part of a group of prisoners selected to be moved to Manchuria, where we remained until freed by the Russian army at the end of the war. In Manchuria, even though we were quartered in several barracks, we somehow wound up in the same one. We were even in the same section of the barracks. Remember that all of the above was coincidental and neither of us had anything to do with it. Even after the war, when we returned to civilian life, we both took jobs in the petroleum industry. Fifty years after the war ended, Jim put his thoughts and 10

11 Foreword 11 recollection of events down in writing so that his family and others would know the part he played in defending the Philippine Islands, and his battle to survive as a prisoner of war. I did my writing fifty years ago in prison camp. It was in the form of a poem, which tells of our struggles and aspirations at the time. Now I would like to submit it as an addition to Jim Bollich s book, Bataan Death March: A Soldier s Story. Jesse Knowles Louisiana State Senator

12 They Strange things were done under the tropic sun By the men in khaki twill. Those tropic nights have seen some sights That would make your heart stand still. Those mountain trails could spin some tales That no man would ever like; But the worst of all was after the fall When we started on that hike. twas the 7th of December in 41 When they hit Hawaii as the day begun. twas a Sunday morning and all was calm When out of nowhere there came the bombs. It didn t last long but the damage was done America was at war with the Rising Sun. Now over in the Philippines we heard the news; And it shook every man clean down to his shoes. It seemed like a dream to begin; But soon every soldier was a fighting man. Each branch was ready to do its part: Artillery, Infantry, Nichols and dark. And then they came on that Monday noon, They hit dark Field like a typhoon. That Monday night the moon was clear; They razed Nichols from front to rear. As the days went by more bombers came; 12

13 They 13 And soon only a few P-40 s remained. Then the orders came and said retreat, That no man would be seen on the city streets. So across the bay we moved at night Away from Manila and out of sight, Deep into the jungles of Bataan Where 15,000 were to make a stand. Here we fought as a soldier should. As the days went by we spilled our blood. Tho the rumors came and went by night That convoy never came in sight. April 7th was a fatal day When the word went around that we couldn t stay, That the front line was due to fall; So the troops moved back one and all. The very next day the surrender came. Then we were men without a name! You may think here s where the story ends, But actually here s where it begins. Tho we fought and didn t see victory The story of that March will go down in history. We marched along in columns of four Living and seeing the horrors of war, And when a man fell along the way A cold bayonet would make him pay For those four months he fought on Bataan. Then they d kill him cause he couldn t stand. The tropic sun would sweat us dry For the pumps were few that we passed by. But on we marched to a place unknown, A place to rest and a place to call home. Home not that you might know, But home to man that suffered a blow.

14 14 BATAAN DEATH MARCH Then to O Donnell Camp en masse Some never back through those gates to pass. In Nipa huts we lived like beasts, Bad rice and camotes were called a feast. Our minds went back to days gone by When our throats were never dry; Of our wives, our mothers and friends, Of our bygone days and our many sins. And about four thousand passed away And how many more no man can say, For no tombstone marks the spot Where thirty to fifty were buried in a lot, Piled together as a rubbish heap The remains of men Who were forced to retreat. Now I want to state, and my words are straight, And I bet you think they re true, That if you gotta die it s better to try And take them with you, too. It s they that took us that fatal day, It s they that made us pay and pay. It s they that counted us morn and night, It s they that again we wanted to fight, It s they that made us as we are, But it s not they that ll win this war, For the men in khaki will come someday And take us back to the U.S.A.

15 Introduction Every soldier, who lived through the battles to defend the Philippine Islands against the Japanese invasion; who felt the pain of hunger and exhaustion while fighting these battles; who reluctantly destroyed his arms when his commanding general surrendered; who made the tortuous march out of Bataan and survived three-and-one-half years of unbelievable treatment and conditions in prisoner of war camps has a different story to tell. Now, after all these years have passed, I have told mine so that my family and friends, and whoever else that may be interested, will have some idea of the part one soldier played in this catastrophic episode. I, as well as the others, do not consider ourselves heroes, but rather survivors. Why some survived, and others did not, no one will ever know. Did I survive because of the canteen of water I found on the Bataan Death March? Was it the can of warm rice that I picked up in the mud at the water well, where we madly made a dash for a drink? Not all of us succeeded or returned. Was it the timely picking and eating of leaves to stop my dysentery shortly after confinement at Camp O Donnell prison camp? I do not know. I would like to thank my nephew, James G. Atteberry, my brother, Charles, and my wife, Celia, for persuading me to write my story, because without their prodding and support, it would probably never have been written. 15

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