Blood Brothers - Eugene C. Jacobs (accelerated reader books txt) 📗

all intently listening-for any late news. Several junior officers were openly nipping on pocket flasks. I thought to myself, “This is one time when I’m going to need all my marbles.” We had recently returned two junior officers for alcoholism; they couldn’t cope with the tropics even in peacetime. Or did they outsmart me and get back to the States to sit out the war?

No news was coming in; we were all anxious to get back to our units to make necessary preparations for war, but had to await instructions. For months we had anticipated war with Japan. We were the nearest U.S. base to Japan, so were very sensitive to any war-like talk or gestures. Actually, the thoughts of war hadn’t bothered me too much; a farmer had once told me, “If you are going to get kicked by a mule, it is best to be close to the mule!” Over the last forty years, we knew the Japanese had been preparing for war, taking scrap iron and raw materials from the Philippines to Japan. Now, we had a strange feeling that we might be getting some of these materials back in a more sophisticated form.

We had no idea how, when or where this war would begin in the Philippines. The last place we expected it would happen was Camp John Hay, a Rest and Recreation Center (R.&R.), offering a delightful climate for military and naval personnel and their dependents on duty in the Far East, desiring temporary relief from the intense heat and humidity of the lowlands.

Camp John Hay was pleasantly located one mile above sea level amongst the pine trees of Mountain Province in Baguio, the summer capital of the Philippines. It was only twenty miles from the beautiful white sand beaches, the stately palms and the sweltering sun of Lingayen Gulf. Camp Hay actually had no real military value. It had been set

aside in 1903 as a recreation area by President Theodore Roosevelt, and named after his Secretary of State, John Milton Hay. The same year Roosevelt designated Baguio as the summer capital of the Philippines.

In December, 1941, there were only two companies of the 43rd Infantry of Philippine Scouts (P.S.), a housekeeping detachment, stationed there. The camp had no fortifications and no large weapons, only a few wooden barracks and some one hundred or so obsolete rifles of W. W. I. vintage. There was one small salute cannon for raising and lowering “Old Glory.”

Looking back several months to July, 1941, when General MacArthur was appointed Commanding General of the U.S. Armed Forces in the Far East (USAFFE), he recruited 110,000 young Filipinos for the Philippine Army (P.A.). It would be many months before they could be trained as they spoke some sixty dialects. They looked more like boy scouts than soldiers with their fiber helmets, sport shirts and tennis shoes.

About the same time, War Plan Rainbow 5 was adopted by Roosevelt’s Joint Army-Navy Board: first the Allies would conquer Germany and Italy. As for Japan, the Allied strategy in the Far East was purely defensive. MacArthur opposed the idea of the Philippines being abandoned, but agreed with the plan “to defend all Philippine soil.” He told his officers: “The beaches must be defended at all costs; prevent the enemy from making any landing!”

We at Camp John Hay believed ourselves reasonably safe in this mountain resort, even when war seemed imminent. President Manuel Quezon also must have considered himself secure in Camp Hay as he was in residence at the beautiful presidential mansion.

Finally, Colonel Horan, standing tall behind his desk, announced: “I have been unable to obtain any new information from USAFFE in Manila. I understand the damage done to the Pacific Fleet in Pearl Harbor has been extensive. Captain Warner (CO. of Military Police (M.P.): take your M.P.s and any scouts that you need, round up all Japanese civilians in the Baguio area, and bring them into camp!

“Lieutenant Velasco: build an eight-foot fence around Barracks

8 and 9; confine all Japanese internees there!

“Other officers: acquaint your troops with the present war situation, and War Plan Rainbow 5. Stay near your telephones!”

At 0730 hours, with a lump in my throat and a complete loss

of appetite, I tried to swallow a few bites of breakfast at the Officers’ Mess, overlooking the gorgeous valleys below. Everyone was excited, wondering what the next news would be. Normally I would have walked the few blocks from the hospital to the mess hall and back, just for the exercise; this morning I drove my1936 Model A coupe. Time might become very important at any moment.

At 0800 hours I was in my office in the hospital, on a hill overlooking Camp Hay, carefully studying my orders and maps.

At 0805 hours our two Army nurses, Captain Ruby Bradley and Lieutenant Beatrice Chambers, entered my office. I inquired, “Do you know that we are at war with Japan?”

Before either could answer, bombs were falling on all sides of the hospital. “There they are!” I exclaimed. Not yet realizing how dangerous the bombs could be, we casually walked to the windows and watched the tremendous explosions moving across the camp-toward headquarters-raising clouds of dust to the rooftops. The war arrived at Camp John Hay at 0809 hours, Dec. 8, 1941. Between twenty and twenty-five twin-engine bombers were overhead in a diamond formation. Soon some 150 bombs of various sizes were bringing disability and death to many of our soldiers-drilling on the parade ground-and to their families in their small homes. It seemed unreal that Camp Hay could be the first target of the Japanese bombers, actually starting World War II in the Philippines.

Where were our American planes? We probably did just what the Japanese planned that we would. We called Clark Air Field-about one-hundred miles to the southwest, and told them, “Camp John Hay is being bombed! Get some fighters up here, and keep those bombers away!”

We had no air-raid sirens, no machine guns, no anti-aircraft guns, nothing to deter them. We were surprised by the air attack, and even more by their accuracy. We heard the bombers were led by German pilots-possibly the very ones we were playing golf with the previous week.

If the Japanese thought that they would catch our military and naval officers on weekend leave at Camp Hay, they were fooled, as all personnel had previously been restricted to their stations and ships by a General Alert. Within thirty minutes, the U.S. fighters were circling overhead looking for Jap planes. Finding none, they returned to Clark Field just before noon to

gas up and get lunch. Along with thirty-five U.S. bombers, the fighters lined up on the runways, soon to be blasted by two waves of 50 heavy Japanese bombers. About the same time, Nichol’s Field, Fort McKinley and Cavite Naval Station were being heavily bombed. Nearly half of the U.S. Army Air Corps planes were destroyed during the first day of war, the day before Congress declared war.

Wounded were now arriving at the hospital by every available vehicle. It was a horrible scene, an unforgettable sight, as corridors quickly filled with seriously wounded and dying soldiers, lying in puddles of blood, moaning, groaning, screaming, and begging for mercy.

Being the only Army doctor on Northern Luzon, I was to be tested as never before in my life. I was a Regular Army professional soldier, alone, and on my own. If we didn’t act quickly, we would very soon have many dead patients. I had seen many bad auto accidents, but never anything like this. Shaking and woozy, I told myself, “This is no time to ‘chicken out.’ God, give me strength!”

Mustering my strongest voice, I screamed: “Everybody! Listen to me! These patients are all bleeding. We’ve got to stop the bleeding quickly - right now! Elevate extremities! Use anything you can get to stop the bleeding! Tourniquets! Compression bandages! Hemostats! Even your fingers, if they are clean! Bring all bad cases to the operating room!”

During the next thirty-two hours, our medical staff worked around the clock, applying tourniquets and compression bandages, amputating arms and legs (many dangling by only a few shreds of skin or tendons), tying off bleeders, giving tetanus shots, laying the dead in the garage for identification. As soon as we could get each patient through his emergency, we sent him by ambulance to one of the civilian hospitals in Baguio for definitive care, and a few miles distant from any future bombing.

I was very fortunate in obtaining Dr. Beulah Allen (the wife of our Post Quartermaster, Lt. Col. Henderson Allen), a retired surgeon, to assist me. She was a tower of strength. While Dr. Allen and I were operating, Civil War General Sherman’s remarks that “War is hell!” kept haunting me.

I was extremely proud of my medics; we took care of wounds, the likes of which none of us had ever seen before! Periodically, a Jap plane would drop a bomb or two-to let us know the war

was still on. They did little damage. After we had our wounded taken care of to the best of our ability, we dared to look outside to see the thirty-foot craters and damaged buildings near the hospital.

For the first time, I realized that I was frightened. I could have been in one of those buildings, or walking across the areas where the craters were.

Dee. 9, 1941: At night our medical teams returned to their individual quarters for their first rest since the bombing exhausted and giddy. I turned on my little radio. Although the signal was badly jammed by the Japanese as it had been for several months, I was able to make out that Congress had declared war on Japan at 1610 hours on December 8, 1941, (0500 hours, Dec. 9 Philippine time). Now it was OK for us to shoot back at the Japs! But with what? I also learned that the Japs had landed large forces in French Indochina.

I was quite sure that all commercial communications with the States had been cut off, but I called the radio station to send a message to my wife, Judy, a teacher at Holton Arms School in Washington, D.C., that I was OK.

Judy and I had arrived in Manila on July 20, 1940, after a delightful trip from New York City through the Panama Canal on the U. S. Army Transport Republic bound for San Francisco, and on the U.S.A.T. Grant via Hawaii, Guam and Manila. We got to see two World’s Fairs (New York and San Francisco). It was really our honeymoon, as we had previously been too poor to afford one.

During the six weeks we were on the high seas, history had been taking place. Hitler’s armies had blitzkrieged through Holland, Belgium and France; the British Army had a forced evacuation from Dunkirk in an armada of small boats. Mussolini had declared war on Britain and France (actually stabbing France in the back while she was on her knees). Hitler’s bombers were causing havoc in England, and his submarines were sinking many Allied ships in the Atlantic. Tojo was vigorously continuing his “undeclared wars” in Manchuria and China. Churchill said, “We shall seek no terms; we shall ask no mercy.”

Roosevelt, preoccupied by presidential elections, was finally becoming aware of Hitler’s threat to democracy. He called up volunteers for the Army; he further prepared for war by agreeing to transfer many planes, tanks and some sixty reconditioned

destroyers to Britain.

Our ships bound for the Philippines had large U.S. flags painted on each side lighted at night. We were wary of subs as they had been busy in the Atlantic. We were beginning to get the feeling that maybe this would not be the “happy honeymoon” that we had planned. And yet, war seemed so very “far away.”

December 10, 1941: Several bombings with little damage, a