I joined the American Defenders of Bataan and Corregidor organization several years ago, then joined American WWII Orphans Network a little later.   As a result of belonging to these two organizations, I not only know so much more than I ever thought I would, but I found two people who knew my dad; one has since passed away, the other has become a dear friend.   Also as a result of my new research and contacts, and the reason for this long story, is that in April I returned to the Philippines with the Battling Bastards of Bataan 60th Anniversary of the Death March Tour.   There were about 80 in the group, including 14 veterans (and the friend of my dad's that I found last year).   Also had a friend with me from college; my husband couldn't make the trip - I had been prepared to go alone, but now can't imagine not having the two of them along.   Several people have asked me to share my feelings, impressions, etc. about the trip.   I have thought about this for some time, and think this will be "stream of consciousness" rather than a day-by-day description of activities.   For me, there were constant highs and lows - highs that I was where they had been, seeing the same places, interacting with Filipinos, then lows thinking about what had happened to them.   My parents loved the Philippines before the war; I have pictures of the places they went, the places they lived, party invitations, an evening jacket.   Then it was destroyed, along with so many lives.   Manila was the third most ravaged city in the war; MacArthur declared it an open city when the Japanese invaded in order to prevent its destruction, but the Japanese destroyed it at the end of the war.   So places like their quarters in Fort Santiago were gone; the pier where all the ships from the US came and went has been rebuilt into a huge commercial dock; Subic Bay is now a free enterprise zone, the infamous tennis court where the men who survived the Oryoko Maru sinking were held is gone, there are memorials where the prison camps once stood.   Some of us went into Bilibid - still used as the Manila City Jail - a horrible place even now, but better than it was during the war.   I sat on the wall at Fort Santiago and took pictures looking across the Pasig River to get the same shots that my father had taken; there was one prewar building in both pictures.

There were three memorial ceremonies.   The first was at the Manila American Cemetery - a beautiful monument to those who are interred or remembered there.  I found my dad's name on the wall - I should say walls; it was overwhelming to see the number of walls it took to list the names - and these were just the men whose bodies were not recovered.   The Am. Ambassador to the Philippines spoke and two visiting US Senators placed wreaths.   I lost it when they played Taps - two buglers on opposite sides echoing each other.

The second ceremony was at Camp O'Donnell and included a Death March re-enactment by students from a drama school.   It was realistic, dramatic and powerful.   After the ceremony there were refreshments outside under some trees, and they played 40's big band music over a loudspeaker.   In one of those wonderful counterpoint moments that occurred frequently, several people started dancing, including a couple of the Filipino vets who were in attendance.   It was delightful.

The third ceremony was at Mt. Samat on the Filipino national holiday now called the "Day of Valor" (previously known at Bataan Day I believe).   Mt. Samat rises almost by itself on the Bataan peninsula, and has a memorial with a huge cross at the top that can be seen for miles.   Because it was the 60th anniversary, the Filipino president spoke (Gloria Macapagal Arroyo), along with the Am. ambassador and the Japanese ambassador.   Our vets sat on the platform with the speakers; there were many Filipino vets in attendance as well (and a lot of media).   There was a flyover by a helicopter that dropped a load of flower petals as part of the program (we were under a fabric cover); I was very impressed with GMA (as she is known there), but the most incredible speech was that of the Japanese ambassador in which he apologized for WWII.   Then there was the informal gathering at Subic Bay where several of us went down to the water and threw flowers in memory of those who went down with the Oryoko Maru which still lies under water in the bay about 200 yards offshore.   Karl (dad's friend) and I had our picture taken on the rocks where he swam up after the ship was hit.

Corregidor Island is now a federal preserve.   You take a boat over and tour on special busses with guides.   Everything has been left as it was at the end of the war - bombed out buildings, artillery emplacements, etc.   Karl showed us where he was during one bombing raid that demolished the building.   The Malinta Tunnel where MacArthur and President Quezon stayed (until they left for Australia) is set up with an audio/visual program - you walk through the main tunnel and several of the lateral tunnels are set up with equipment and mannequins showing how they lived - communications, hospital, living quarters, etc.   It is very eerie - so quiet and forlorn.   Since Bataan was surrendered a month before Corregidor fell, a number of men tried to escape the Death March by hiding, then swimming from Bataan to Corregidor - about 3 miles.   This is what one man's father had done, so he decided he wanted to try it - and he made it - what a high it was for him.   Of course he is 50 and his father was in his twenties (but not in the best of health since the men were sick and malnourished before the surrender).  As part of the tour those who wanted could walk the last 5 miles of the Death March (from Capas to O'Donnell).   We got up at 4 AM - and off we went.   I think about 4 of the vets went (including Karl who, at 90, walked the whole 5 miles).   Fortunately it was an overcast day or I don't think I would have made it - April is hot and humid; I can't even imagine how any of those men survived.   In another one of those "moments" - soon after we were underway Karl poked me and said I had broken the first rule of survival - which was to walk on the inside or I would get the "vitamin stick".   In the real March they walked 4 abreast and the two on the outside tended to get the most hits with batons and rifle butts.   The road has been paved, and the little horse-drawn carts (calesas) are largely gone, but many small houses and nipa huts, caribou, and locals watching from the roadside were there just as they had been 60 years ago.

One of the most touching ceremonies was the induction of "our" vets into the Filipino Defenders of Bataan and Corregidor organization.   The Filipino people were incredibly gracious, friendly, helpful and charming.   In reality, we did not treat them that well before the war, but they remained loyal to the US, suffered enormously for it and are still our friends.

Another place we visited was Santo Tomas University where the American civilians and the military nurses were interned during the war.   The Japanese basically didn't feed those people either; they had to rely on Filipino friends and former household staff to bring them supplies.   (There were several people on the trip who had spent the war in Santo Tomas as children).

For most of the trip we stayed in the Manila Hotel, which was rebuilt after the war to look the same as before - a last vestige of colonial elegance; beautiful high-ceilinged lobby, crystal chandeliers, plush furnishings upon which one could relax with a little refreshment after the day's activities and listen to a small orchestra play beautiful music.   A welcome refuge after, say, a day at Bilibid - at times I felt very schizophrenic.   I decided early on that I wanted to do something that was fun that my parents had done - so went to shoot the rapids at Pagsanjan.   It was a lovely (hot) day, the scenery is gorgeous - a steep narrow canyon with two waterfalls; the only problem was that the water was so low in the river that the "rapids" had pretty much disappeared.   But I have pictures of my parents there, and now I have some of me there too.

A unexpected side benefit of the trip was meeting wonderful people; the vets and their wives, other children of vets (some orphans, some born after the war), some who were on the trip because of an interest in the war, and the Filipino people themselves.   Although I initially was a little ambivalent about going, I now can't imagine not going.   I do not like the word "closure" as applied to dealing with death; this trip for me was about connecting, not closing.

One editorial comment; I was deeply disappointed that none of the ceremonies were covered by the American press; there were articles in the Filipino papers, on CNN Asia, Stars and Stripes, and local TV.   There was a documentary group with us who interviewed all the vets and said they hoped to have a completed program in about a year - which they will try to sell to PBS, the History Channel, etc.

Nancy Kragh
Daughter of Maj. Clarence White, 31st Infantry
nkragh@hotmail.com