Figure 1.-- |
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We are especially interested in collecting personal experiences describing the observations abd experiences of children during the War. These written accounts add to the photographic record that we havec been archiving. We have found accounts from both American and Filipino children. The children of course did not fully understand the events swirling around them and impacting their lives. They did, however, understand cruelty and barbarous behavior even though they did not understand what prompted it. Their observations are an important aspect of the War, commonly overlooked in the accounts of the dranatic events of the War.
Another internee writes, "One of my earliest memories is of parachutes. Beautiful, American parachutes sailing down through the sky at Los Banos, a Japanese internment camp 30 miles south of Manila when I was four years old.
On December 7, 1941, the Japanese attacked Camp John Hay in Baguio, six hours after the bombing of Pearl Harbor. My mother and I were out walking after breakfast when she heard the planes coming and tried to carry me to cover. She did not make it, and we became, I was told, the first American war casualties in the Far East. My mother lost a leg and I sustained a shrapnel wound in my knee. After receiving heroic medical care from the doctors and nurses at Camp John Hay Hospital, we were captured and interned, first at the Santo Tomas University campus in Manila and later at Los Banos. According to my parents, not many people slept in Los Banos the night of February 22-23. But at dawn we saw the parachutes of the 511th regiment of the 11th Airborne Division. The Japanese guards were caught completely by surprise at their morning calisthenics. Within fifteen minutes most of them were dead, and the Americans controlled the camp. The situation was still gravely dangerous. There were close to 1,500 prisoners, many of them in terrible physical condition, thirty miles behind Japanese lines. To get us out required a closely coordinated amphibious operation across a large body of water, Laguna de Bay. The prisoners, faint with hunger, dazed with joy, and fearful of losing the few belongings they had brought through the war, were difficult to herd. My father, a six-footer who now weighed 125 pounds, almost missed the Amphibious Tractor's when he was trying to salvage our few remaining things. But the raid, the largest hostage rescue operation in military history, was successful beyond imagination. For years the men of the 511th wore angel patches on their shoulders. My mother never again saw a soldier wearing 11th Airborne insignia without planting a big kiss on his cheek. [Dudley]
We are especially interested in collecting personal experiences. One American girl on Mindanao writes, "I was living with my family in the northeastern part of the island of Mindanao in the Philippines. My father, along with my two brothers, became active participants in the guerrilla resistance movement while my mother, my sister and I were always on the run, keeping ahead of the Japanese troops by just a matter of days. There were periods when we literally didn't know where we would sleep each night or from what table we would find our next meal. If we became ill, our only medicine was the local variety, usually coming from native plants that were used by the Filipinos.
Although too young at the time to fully understand the life-and-death situations the Hansen family faced during the war, I know that without the kindness and loyalty of the courageous Filipinos of northern Mindanao my story might have had a different ending." [Hansen]
My father was killed during World War II in Bataan, Phillipines. He was with the U.S. Armed Forces in the Far East, a captain in the Corps of Engineers. My father's division was on alert before the bombing of Pearl Harbor on Dec. 7, 1941. When the war broke out, my father feared for our safety and had us evacuated to a suburb in Manila to stay with a relative. On Dec. 31, 1941, at midnight, we were awakened by my father's military driver, who told us to proceed immediately to Bataan. We don't know the reason for this. My father's car had big signs on each side with big bold letters: "U.S. Army." On the way to Bataan, we met several truckloads of Filipino soldiers who advised us to go back, saying the Japanese were coming and the bridge to Bataan had already collapsed. We turned back and reached Manila. It was only on August 1942 that we learned of my father's death, two months after my brother was born. My father was killed in Bataan on that day that we were to meet him: Jan. 1, 1942. My father was on a field inspection with an American lieutenant when a Japanese bomb was dropped nearby. My father died instantly, and the lieutenant survived. In October 1944, we heard that the Americans were already on their way to liberate the Philippines. By then, the retreating Japanese forces were burning all the houses, including ours. Early in the morning of Feb. 10, 1945, shouts of joy were heard that there was an American soldier in the area. We were cautioned that it could be a Japanese soldier. Then several American soldiers came and instructed us to immediately leave the area and follow a cordoned route. We left with only what we were wearing as all our belongings were burned--even those we kept in the air raid shelter. Along the way, we saw dead and burned bodies. After walking for hours, we finally found refuge at an uncle's house north of Manila. [Montessa]
A Filipino girl recalls the Japanese occupation. "I was a 6-year-old girl living in Manila, Philippines with my family of nine. I was at my First Communion in Malate Catholic Church and the U.S. Naval Base at Pearl Harbor had been bombed just hours earlier. The Japanese invasion and occupation of the Philippines soon followed.
Japanese occupation affected every facet of life. At school, I remember the Japanese officers forcing us to learn their language. I still remember how to count to ten. Every Monday there was a ceremony where the Japanese made our principal raise the Japanese flag with the Filipino flag. They tried to portray themselves as benevolent big brother to our people, but we knew better. I remember the Japanese rounding up all the men in town, including my father and uncles, and interning them in our schoolhouse. They were screening for American sympathizers. We knew they tortured collaborators, so we were afraid. Fortunately, my dad and uncles concealed their allegiances and were released after a few days. My Uncle Victor and two of his brothers eventually fought with the Filipino Resistance alongside American GIs at key battles and also walked with them during the torturous Bataan Death March. When the Japanese started bombing Manila, my family fled to the countryside and stayed in a chicken coop because there was no room in the house of our friends. To pass time, my siblings and I played games like catching the lizards that shared the coop with us. Many times we were witness to American bravery. One afternoon I was playing with friends in a field when we heard the roar of aircraft engines overhead. A dogfight was unfolding in the skies above us. The planes were so low we could see the U.S. and Japanese insignias on their fuselages and wings. One of my playmates pointed upward and shouted, "Kakampi natin!" meaning 'That one's on our side!' We cheered as the planes chased each other in tight turning circles. We saw a Japanese plane start to trail smoke as the American pilot's bullets found their mark. It was like watching an airshow, but much more exciting. The Americans also showed kindness. After the war, we moved back to Manila where American soldiers were using our house as an office. I remember a soldier who liked to hear me play piano. As a reward, he'd sit me on his lap and give me chocolate and gum. One officer, Captain Harry Delahoussy, was especially kind. My parents were so impressed with him that they named my new brother Harry after him." [Reblando]
Armilla, Jose. "Leading the cavalry," The Washington Post (May 28, 2004), p. W11.
Dudley, Earl C. Jr. "An angel on their shoulders, The Washington Post (May 28, 2004), p. W11.
Hansen, Virginia. "Fleeing the fighting, The Washington Post (May 28, 2004), p. W11.
Hart, Howard P. "Riding the AmTrac," The Washington Post (May 28, 2004), p. W11.
Montessa, -Carmelita. "An American rescue," The Washington Post (May 28, 2004), p. W11.
Reblando, Salud P. "A witness to bravery," The Washington Post (May 28, 2004), p. W11.
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