I recall one man named Elrod that simply would not bathe, even in fresh water. We had observed his hands actually turning to a rusted looking state. After warning him several times about how dirty he was, a group of us got together and gave him a G. I. bath. That consisted of a hard scrubbing with a stiff brush in salt water. He never showed up in an unclean manner again.
After a week at sea we arrived at Pearl Harbor in Hawaii. It was sad to see the hulls of all those ships that were destroyed by the Japanese sneak attack on December 7, 1941. We sat there in the harbor for six days and were not granted liberty (being allowed to go ashore). Unknown to me at the time was that my brother, Robert, was there. Had I known that, I could possibly have gotten special permission to go ashore to visit him.
After setting sail again, our next stop was the Marshall Islands where we sat for several more days without being allowed off the ship. We then proceeded on to the Caroline Islands for a repeat of sitting for several days without leaving the ship. It was really getting monotonous, staying on that ship all those weeks. Everyone was wondering what our destination was and when we would get there. The scuttlebutt was rampant throughout the ship that we would go here or we would go there, with no one knowing for sure except the top brass.
Our final destination was Samar in the Philippine Islands. Most of the troops, including me, would become attached to Seabee battalions. My assignment was with the 19th Seabees which was 90 % black. Segregation was still legal and in effect throughout the United States although the military was attempting to integrate the armed forces. Since only 10% of the 19th Seabees were white, we had much more to fear from the black Seabees than the Japanese military.
I was assigned with a team of five others to a tent that was located on the beach. Our entire responsibility was unloading trucks from the docks. This consisted mostly of barrels of fuel oil that we stacked right on the beach. I became a crane operator and enjoyed it very much. Perhaps I should have made that a career. The problem was that there was little demand for crane operators in Danville, Virginia.
A former state trooper must have run the entire base since they were so strict on ‘speeders’. Not only were they strict, the punishment was severe. I received a citation for exceeding the speed limit by 10 MPH and received three days hard labor. The hard labor consisted of digging a well where the earth was solid coral and as hard as steel. I was ordered to climb down in this well that, at the time, was about 10 feet deep, was perfectly round and measured about 10 feet across. There were two of us digging at a time, and we would alternate digging and shoveling each thirty minutes. The hard part was the digging since the coral was so hard you could, by using a pick axe only loosen a piece of coral the size of ones thumb nail with each swing of the pick axe. Consequently it was rare to complete one shovel full in your thirty minutes of digging. This at least gave the one shoveling thirty minutes of rest time.
 |
| Pictured left to right: Curtis Bishop Jr., Jimmy Perry, Clarence Lewis and Henry Dillard |
It was extremely hot in this environment and cold water was necessary to keep going. The only access we had to ice water come from and was dispensed through the reefers, which were huge refrigerators used to protect our food supply. We would usually take turns going to the reefers for water and would bring back two one-gallon jugs. One night it was my turn and when I returned with the water, I made the comment that I believed I could drink an entire gallon of that water. That led to some offers that if I could do it in three minutes, the group would give me $50.00. I jumped at the offer, handed them my canteen and told them to start pouring. I immediately started guzzling and after I was down to less than one canteen of water left, I paused and asked how much time I had left? The response was that I still had 50 plus seconds remaining so I decided to rest a moment before continuing. I sat down and the water gushed from my mouth as if it were a fire hydrant. Of course, this meant that I did not get the $50.00. I did not realize what a foolish mistake I had made until I told my family doctor after I returned to Danville. He said I could have very easily have drowned myself. I trust that anyone reading this will refrain from stupid mistakes such as this.
Each holiday, it seemed the black personnel would attempt to create havoc among the whites. I suppose it was because they felt discriminated against, although I didn’t feel that they were. In one instance, around eight of them showed up at our camp one evening armed with 45 automatics. One of them poked a 45 into my ribs with a cigarette in his mouth and said, “Light me, mother f----r.” Of course, I was frightened to death so I lit his cigarette. While they continued to hold us at bay with the drawn guns, several of them searched our belongings taking anything they chose to take. At an opportune time while my guard was being distracted, I ducked down behind a bulldozer and crept off into the night headed for the Shore Patrol Office. When I arrived there, I found two Shore Patrolmen that had just come on base and had no idea what to do. One asked me if I knew how to handle a Thompson machine gun and, although I had never seen one, I replied, “Yes.” They thrust one in my hands and we jumped on a Jeep and headed for our camp. When we arrived, I discovered the original perpetrators had left but several others had arrived. We lined them up and while I held them at bay with a machine gun I couldn’t shoot, the Shore Patrolmen searched them.
During the search, one of the blacks ducked down behind the others and took off running. I stepped through the line up and ordered him to halt or I would shoot. He froze and returned to the line-up where it was discovered that he was armed with a 45 automatic.
Suddenly, the base Commander arrived on the scene. His name was Commander Parker. He was from Mississippi and had a reputation for having a preference for blacks. It is said that he felt he could get more work out of them. He reviewed the situation and immediately asked what I was doing with that machine gun. I tried to explain that we were in jeopardy down there on the beach and we were continuously harassed by the blacks and that we should have some armament for protection. His reply was that I wanted someone to get shot. The problem was never resolved and we were lucky that none of us got shot.
 |
| Filipino Girls Jeanie and Renee and Henry. |
I did not recall that Clarence had taken a great many pictures of all of us. Some involved some girls in San Francisco that I recalled nothing about until he showed them to me in the year, 2003. I must admit, I felt they were quite flattering since we all looked so young and skinny and the girls were real lookers, especially the ones in San Francisco. The Filipino girls did not look that sharp. They were good to us, however, since they washed our clothes and folded them for the price of a cake of soap or a box of washing powder. I recall one, named Jeannie that I called a “gold digger” since she wanted some extra soap and powder for her chores. She wrote me a letter, which I still have that said she cried all night since I gave her the name, “gold digger.”
After a few months on Samar, the Seabees were ordered to build a causeway over to another island called Calicoan. Those Seabees were great; they built a super highway for about a mile right through the ocean and once they reached Calicoan, they built the Calicoan Highway for the entire length of the island, which was about 20 miles. They blasted it right out of the hardest coral you could ever find and it was as smooth as any paved highway I have ever seen. It was simply amazing!
Calicoan was designed to provide General McArthur with the supplies he needed to complete re-taking of the Philippines and was supposed to be a “secret supply base.” Not long after we located there, we were listening to Tokyo Rose, the propagandist for the Japanese military. She said that the U. S. Navy had set up a supply base for General McArthur on Calicoan and the Japanese Air Force would bomb it that night. Around 9:00 p.m., the air raid sirens went off and the planes were heard overhead. I jumped out of my bunk and ran outside to seek shelter under a bulldozer, as did most of my companions. We kept waiting for the bombs, but were happy when they did not come down on us. The planes flew right over us and went on to the island of Leyte, which was 50 miles across the Leyte Gulf.
That was as close as I came to being in real danger, although it was all around. One situation developed and was caused by straggling Japanese troops that had not surrendered and were hiding out in the surrounding mountains. One, in particular, became so hungry that he came down from the mountains and got in the Filipino chow line. They looked so much alike that it was difficult for Americans to tell them apart. However, the Filipinos could tell them apart with no problem. Once, I heard this Filipino shout to the Shore Patrolman on duty, “That is no Filipino! ” Him Japanese!” The Japanese soldier took off running and was immediately shot to death by the Shore Patrol. How things have changed. If that happened today in Iraq, the Shore Patrolman would have to stand trial.
After being on Calicoan for about six months, I received a letter from my brother, Robert, stating that he felt he was not far from me and would meet me at the LST landing on a date and time I do not recall. We could not identify in the mail to anyone our location or give a hint of where we might be located. In any event, I went to the LST dock on that day and there he was. What a feeling to see your brother when you are 12,000 miles from home. He spent about three days with me and said he was stationed on Leyte. He then made me aware that he was in Hawaii when I was sitting in Pearl Harbor
A short while after Robert’s visit, I noticed a rash developing on my fingers. I visited sickbay where they applied some type of ointment. After a couple of days, it worsened, so I returned to sickbay and they tried something else. It continued to worsen to the point that no one knew what to do. It kept spreading and got so bad that the corpsman (male nurse) would pick up a medication to show me and ask had they tried that particular medication. It eventually covered my entire body and became one large sore. This was the most devastating thing that had ever happened to me at the time. I eventually was hospitalized and they called a skin specialist over from another island to evaluate my condition and diagnose it. He diagnosed it as impetigo, and I overheard him tell the corpsman to give me 25,000 ccs. of penicillin and if it did not clear up, to send me back to the States. I suspected that once I was back on American soil, it would clear up since most people called it jungle rot, so it seemed natural that once I got out of that environment, things should improve. Due to this feeling, I prayed that the penicillin would not clear it up; however, it did, so and I was stuck over there for the rest of my tour.
On August 6, 1945, a large group of us were enjoying an outdoor movie when it was suddenly interrupted with the announcement that the United States had just dropped a secret bomb on the city of Hiroshima in Japan and the war would be over in a few days. [This turned out to be the ‘Atom Bomb’.] Talk about a happy group of people! There was shouting and drinking all night with everyone anxious to get home. It was not that simple, however, since there were certain rules and regulations to go by prior to any stateside departure. The make up of these regulations put me on the list to be near the very last to leave. This was because they used the point system, which meant that if married, you had 2 points, if you had children, you had 2 points for each. Other dependents added more points. As I recall, I had one point and that was for simply being there and being a person. The exodus started and I kept gaining responsibility and even got promoted to Motor Machinist Mate 3rd class. They even promised me a promotion to 2nd class if I would sign up for another tour of duty. I refused since I had such a desire to get home. I was really enjoying it at the time since I even had my own private Jeep with really nothing to do except keep an eye on things. I still longed for home and could not wait to get there.
After a year on Calicoan I had the opportunity of going to a rest camp facility in the mountains on Luzon. This, to me was the equivalent of an annual week’s vacation. The war had just been declared over and the armistice signing was being arranged in Tokyo Bay.
About six of us were fortunate enough to get this opportunity. We boarded a PB4Y2 Catalina bomber for the flight to Manila. This was the Navy version of the Army B-24. The only difference was the tail section. The B-24 had twin tails and the PB4Y2 had a single tail that was very tall. In any event, we took off from Guiuan Airfield and flew to Manila, which was about 300 miles. While in flight, we had great fun by getting in the gun turrets and pretending we were shooting at enemy planes. The guns had no ammunition so it was perfectly safe. The way you could push those buttons and twirl rapidly in any direction was again, as my grandson, Seth would say was really ‘cool’.
Figure 21 - First class accommodations to Manila
After a three-hour flight, we landed in Manila and boarded a truck designed to transport troops for the 150-mile ride to Baguio. It was like riding through the
North Carolina Mountains. I never saw so many pine trees, even in North Carolina. Baguio is a resort city that is almost identical to Danville, Virginia, in the way it is laid out. The main street was structured just like Danville and even had similar buildings. For example, there was a building the same size and shape of the Hotel Danville and was located at the top of the street just like Danville. The curve at the lower end of each main street was also identical. It was really strange.
Baguio was the home of the oldest U. S. Army camp in the world, Camp John Hay. This was where we were housed during our time there. One could wake up in the early morning and walk out into a huge cloud. The entire place was simply amazing and was enjoyed by all. We were able to once again have the pleasure of eating fresh eggs and drinking fresh milk, which we did a lot of. After a week of what we considered at the time to be as close to Heaven as one could get, we returned to Calicoan.
In the summer of 1946, I finally received orders to ship out for the States; what a great day that was! As luck would have it, I received a speeding citation that same day, the second since I had been here and was told that it might delay my departure for as much as 10 days. I was extremely irate and appealed to the chief Shore Patrol officer. He finally intervened and proceeded to tear up all citations that day that might interfere with anyone’s departure for home. I felt that was a great gesture on his part that was certainly appreciated by several sailors.
No comments:
Post a Comment