We Fought the Good Fight

Prologue

Through static and voice transmissions that faded in and out, the Philippines were momentarily in denial and disbelief on hearing of the December 7 th 1941 surprise attack on Pearl Harbor by the Imperial Japanese Navy without a formal declaration of war.

The December 10th aerial attacks on Manila and Cavite Naval Base brought it into full realization.

From the first day of the conflict, Manila’s Sternberg General Hospital was overwhelmed, as its 450 bed capacity quickly filled, overflowing into the corridors, taxing the peacetime medical staff to its limit.

As the need for more beds quickly grew, on December 24th, the thousand bed Hospital #1 on Bataan was established at Camp Limay. Due to security considerations it would last for only a month before the medical complement and supplies were moved inland to Little Baguio.

As the fighting between the Japanese Imperial Army and the American/Filipino forces increased, Bataan Hospital #1, was quickly overwhelmed requiring the establishment of Bataan Hospital #2, staffed again by a medical complement transferred from Sternberg Hospital. Hospital #2 was an open air facility, chosen for its level ground, thick overhanging jungle cover that obscured the open air cots from aerial reconnaissance, and the availability of water from the clear, fast flowing Real River. Hospital #2’s mission was further complicated by the sinking of its transporting ferry by Japanese planes, leaving the staff short of medical supplies and their personal belongings.

Among the Filipina nurses of Hospital #2, was Third Lieutenant Isabel Ramos, of the Philippine Nurses Corps.

No longer were the amenities of Sternberg available; comfortable quarters, good food, after shift teas, and laundry facilities. With laundry facilities no longer available, and the nurses having to wash their clothes in the waters of the Real River, white uniforms that identified the nursing profession were no longer feasible, and oversized male coveralls were issued.

Although the north and south entrances to Manila Bay had been heavily mined, with the southern entrance being guarded by Corregidor and the other three Island Gun Defenses, only the Artillery of Corregidor, and the newly created Three Hundred and Eighty Third Coast Artillery Battalion, established on the southwestern tip of Bataan, guarded the northern entrance. The three hundred and eighty third would never fire a shot in defense of the northern entrance.

The small three hundred and eighty third Coast Artillery Battalion Officers Club allowed the off duty staff of Hospital #2, to relax, drink, dance and try to make sense of it all.

Daily, with war seeming more imminent. The Philippine Commonwealth began recruiting and enlarging it’s Army at a break neck pace, resulting in an ill trained army of raw recruits.

In October, the three hundred and eighty third enhanced their security with the addition of a 90 mm antiaircraft team, all sand bagged in alongside a heavy machine gun squad. The area soon became pox marked with foxholes, but Battery A preferred the security of the reinforced concrete encasement over a foxhole.

Neither Battery A nor the heavy machine gun squad would ever fire a shot, while the antiaircraft team filled the air with blazing tracers.

All the crew of Battery A could do, was watch the antiaircraft shells burst harmlessly below the high flying bombers and observe flashes of exploding bombs and shells, sending plumes of fire and smoke rising over Manila and Cavite Naval Base.

The Philippines was looking to America to come to her aid. But America was suffering defeat after defeat. With only songs of encouragement and defiance being written at a record pace, accompanied by Patriotic slogans. Even Lucky Strikes changed packaging from green to white with the slogan, Lucky Strike Green has gone to war. Still America was hard pressed to gear up for a war in which she was unprepared, and aid would not come to the Philippines for some three years.

So, When are they coming? was a much repeated phrase.

Chapter 11

It was the sixth of April, 1942. First Lieutenant John Stanley McCalla watched as his Filipino Scout gun crew went through the daily chore of trying to repair their only remaining coast artillery piece. It had survived too many air attacks, but on this day there was little hope that it could be put back in operation. Still, it allowed the crew to concentrate on something other than the sorry circumstance of short food rations, and no relief in sight. Their barracks, now burned out bombed out shells as was the Bachelor’s Officers Quarters…they were homeless.

With the loss of their barracks and other exposed buildings, including the local Post Exchange, the replacement of personal items had to be obtained from the Quartermaster and Post Exchange of other Commands that had so far survived. The quartermaster of the 27th Engineers with a need to reduce their inventory agreed to replace their lost items, issuing fatigues and two pairs of khakis, two shelter halves allowing for a cooler single occupancy, and mosquito netting…each a blanket and the newly released hooded poncho, and two pair of shoes. Personal items such a shaving kits were purchased at the intact Post Exchange.

Ordinance Supply issued the new M1 Gerands and two Browning Automatic Rifles (BARs) with ammo, should combat come to hand to hand. Each member was issued two grenades which clipped handily on the duty belt.

Being homeless, they slept outside near the Battery. With each man having the two shelter halves, each had his own pup tent shelter during the frequent night time rains, otherwise, they slept under the mosquito netting stretched over a skeletal framework fashioned from bamboo poles.

Food rations had been cut again to quarter rations, a mere 1,000 calories daily. McCalla wondered what tomorrow would bring. There was much talk of surrender by Major General Edward King. With no relief in sight…food shortages, sickness and only 20% of the Bataan defenders physically able to defend the peninsula, so, to prevent the useless slaughter of his troops, surrender seemed to be the only option.

Dusk was closing in…McCalla was sitting at a small table used as a desk in the corner of the reinforced concrete magazine of Battery ‘A’. There was nothing to do except update the Battery Log. The entry would be the same as yesterday. Their last gun was inoperable.

His mind meandered to the circumstances that led to his being in the Philippines at that particular time.

It was the 1940 Spring graduation at the University of Kansas with John Stanley McCalla through the ROTC program receiving his gold bars as a Second Lieutenant in the Army Reserve, would report to Fort Hancock, New Jersey for artillery training.

On a cold January 12th, 1941, at the Vaughn, Kansas Greyhound bus station, the McCalla family along with girl friend Merna, gathered to see Second Lieutenant McCalla off to Fort Sill Oklahoma for advanced artillery training, after which he would report to the Receiving Center at San Francisco’s Angel Island for assignment.

On April 25th, 1941, the USS Washington set sail from San Francisco destined for Manila. Second Lieutenant John McCalla was among the 1200 officers on board, arriving at Manila on May 8th.

During the thirteen day trip, many became sea sick, particularly the military wives, most of whom remained in their rooms. With most of the Military wives returning to the US there were only a few coming to the Philippines. McCalla, spared the discomfort of sea sickness, spent much of his time on deck enjoying the refreshing ocean air, and at nights watching the fluorescent flashes of the ocean water as it peeled back from the ships, prow.

Up early the morning of May 8th, with the breaking dawn, McCalla got his first glimpse of the Philippines, with the Islands that appeared on each side of the Washington.

It was mid-morning when they steamed into Manila Bay and the expanding metropolis of Manila itself.

Standing back, allowing the military wives to have the ship’s railing, McCalla studied the fortified Islands, including Corregidor, that protected the southern entrance to Manila bay. The mainland perimeter was a narrow strip of white sandy beach…small fishing boats bobbled in the choppy waters of the Bay.

Despite a small morning shower, that signaled the coming of the rainy season, causing the young ladies thin summer dress to stick to their bodies and dampen McCalla’s razor sharp uniform creases, it could not dampen the spirit or excitement of the morning’s anticipated meetings…only increased the discomfort of the humidity.

Looking to the north to the Bataan Peninsula, with its blue hazed Mariveles Mountains upper half shrouded in rain clouds, he was unable to discern the newly created, reinforced concrete encasement of the three hundred and eighty third Coast Artillery Battalion, not knowing that would be his home and assignment.

On disembarking, McCalla surveyed the men dressed in their Military Whites, holding signs naming their spouses. There was much hugging and kissing. About to go over to an area sign, Arriving Bachelor Officers, when he spotted a Captain, dressed in a wrinkled khaki uniform covered by sweat spots holding a sign reading, Lt. McCalla.

With his duffle bag slung across his shoulder, and carrying a valise, containing all of his earthly belongings, McCalla approached the Captain and introduced himself.

Glad to meet you Lieutenant McCalla. Greeted the Captain lowering the sign and extending his hand in a handshake.

I’m Captain Dunn, your Battalion Commander. Thought I would save you the aggravation of the receiving station. Although you are not scheduled to report until tomorrow, I will notify personnel that you are at your duty station.

Discarding the sign in a nearby trash bin, Captain Dunn led McCalla as they wove their way through hordes of immovable greeters to the parking lot where his Filipino Scout driver was waiting beside an ancient faded, black, dirt streaked Plymouth.

Slowly, making their way through the throngs of sweating humanity, with the driver laying heavily on the horn which no one paid any attention, occasionally sticking his head out the window, cursing in Tagalog to a person who refused to move and allow their passage.

Taking hours, they made their way through equally congested Manila with its ancient taxis and the innumerable Calesas, the pony powered rickshaws that claimed the streets for their own, ignoring the honking horns of every vehicle that had one.

Skirting the water front perimeter of Manila, they headed south on the Bataan Peninsula. The driver seemingly oblivious of the pot holes, threw up a clouds of dust, as they made their way to the southern tip of Bataan.

Arriving at a newly constructed housing complex…housing for the married officers with families, and a Bachelor’s Officers Quarters, which would be McCalla’s home.

Pulling up beside the BOQ, Welcome to the three hundred and eighty third Coast Artillery Battalion, the best damned Battalion in the US Army. You have the remainder of the day to yourself, so get acquainted with the complex. Knowing you are hungry, the Officer’s Mess is directly across from your quarters. Said Captain Dunn. Extending his hand, Again, welcome.

The driver, shouldering McCalla’s duffle bag and carrying his satchel, deposited them in the BOQ lobby, snapped to attention, giving a smart salute. Welcome and have a good day, Sir He said, doing an about face, departed to the waiting Captain Dunn.

The orderly that assigned his room was helpful in pointing out some of the post services including the Officers Mess, and Battalion Headquarters. He informed McCalla that Lieutenant Wysocki’s houseboy who was familiar with laundry pick up schedules among other schedules would be available in two days.

Going to his room, McCalla found it to be large and clean with a large fan that cooled the room by drawing in a cool breeze from Manila Bay. It did take getting used to the many Salamanders that scampered up the walls and left their droppings. They were considered to bring ‘good luck.’

McCalla met his soon to be house boy, who was a 35 year old Filipino who daily cleaned his room, laid out a fresh uniform, shined his shoes, and twice weekly carried his laundry to a local Chinese laundry for washing and ironing.

At the BOQ, McCalla would learn one of the amenities of duty in the Philippines, was the operation of the Officers Mess, choosing his lunch from the long, food display, and having it delivered by a Filipino waiter. Treatment and consideration was much greater than in the US where a ‘shave tail’ Second Lieutenant got little respect and consideration. He found most officers were Regular Army Professionals, that not only demanded respect, but most importantly commanded respect, especially from the Filipino Scouts, who were equally as professional.

At the end of the day, after an excellent dinner at the Officer’s Mess, McCalla, dressed in his newly tailored white tropical uniform, had not yet developed a taste for cigarettes or hard alcohol, only beer, did, never the less enjoy a comradeship of other junior officers while the senior officers enjoyed an evening of music and dancing with their wives.

So, for the young Second Lieutenant from Kansas, duty in the Philippines represented the good life.

McCalla would learn, the three hundred and eighty third, while officered by US Army Officers, was manned by Filipino Scouts. Every man in Battery A, as did all Filipino Scouts, spoke at least broken English, Tagalog, and most likely a cultural dialect indigenous to Luzon or another island.

Captain Dunn had initiated a twice weekly class in Tagalog for the Battalion Officers.

McCalla was assigned as officer in charge of Battery A of the newly created three hundred and eighty third Coast Artillery Battalion. With the southern entrance into Manila Bay being well protected by the guns of Corregidor (Fort Mills); Caballo Island (Fort Hughes); Carabao Island (Fort Frank); and tiny El Fraile Island (Fort Drum), the creation of the three hundred and eighty third, and newly constructed encasement on the southern tip of Bataan was a defense of the northern entrance to the Manila Bay. The newly poured encasement still smelled of raw concrete.

Through information relayed to Japan by spies and the Sakdals, a pro-Japanese movement that had infiltrated the Manila area population and others, the Japanese High Command knew the Manila and Subic Bays were heavily mined. Only submarines and shallow draft vessels could enter. So no surface vessel of any size could enter Manila Bay, and Battery A would never fire a shot in defense of the northern entrance. Still, the southern entrance to Manila Bay was used nightly to bring in Japanese landing craft which would be used for the assault on Corregidor.

It was at the ceremony when Lieutenant Wysocki, an interim commander who was returning the US, read his orders relieving him of command of Battery A of the three hundred and eighty third, and Lieutenant McCalla assumed command, did McCalla meet the Battery A gun Crew composed of the elite Filipino Scouts.

It was Sergeant Emmanuel Ramos, that came to attention and barked, BATTery A, AH tenshun, as the two ranks of the thirty man gun crew smartly snapped to attention.

While there was little difference in the heights of the crew, they were meticulously placed from the tallest to the shortest.

Despite the drizzle, with rain drops falling from the brim of their hats, and dampening the once razor sharp creases, Battery A stood smartly erect as the change of command was read.

From the moment of the creation of the three hundred and eighty third, Sergeant Ramos had held dry firing drill, so when they were called into action, Battery A could get off a salvo every twenty seconds, in meeting the demands and expectations of Sergeant Ramos. Still, there was no resentment of his critical leadership. Ramos had instilled in them a discipline and unit pride. Battery A was more than a name on the Battalion organizational chart. They were Battery A!

For the many ROTC officers transferred to the Philippines, it was the spirit, spit and polish, and discipline of the Filipino Scouts that influenced and set the standards.

McCalla recalled the first Artillery Ordinance inspection held by General King, who had risen through the ranks as an artillery officer. Still, it was the Battalion officers that performed the critical readiness inspection, with the General’s inspection being no more than a walk through.

The Battery A dress was fresh and immaculate.

On the entrance of General King, McCalla came to attention and yelled, Ah-tenSHUN, as the ranks of Battery A went from ‘parade rest’ to ‘attention,’ with McCalla saluting…reporting. SIR, Battery A ready for inspection, SIR!"

The General smile, returned his salute and said, Carry on Lieutenant, and continued his walk through.

Battery A scored well in the critical readiness inspection conducted by the Battalion officers.

McCalla was in a state of shock when Captain Dunn, the Battalion Commander congratulated him as First Lieutenant McCalla.

Battery A did the Battalion proud. Dunn informed. "The General was apparently impressed and