Fugitives: Evading and Escaping the Japanese

6. Mindanao

Sill MINDANAO There, we heard a very disquieting story. The crew of a native boat had arrived that morning and told of being intercepted by a Japanese cruiser while crossing the Bohol Sea from Zamboanguita. Their passengers, three Americans and one Chinese, were taken prisoner by the Japanese. Our landing on Mindanao was not skillfully executed. It was the darkest of nights and we sailed directly into a large fish trap in the shallow waters of Dapitan Bay. We spent over an hour poling the boat this way and that before finding our way through the maze. In the Philippines, fish traps are found at nearly all beach barrios. Fences of one-inch-wide bamboo strips spaced about an inch apart and laced together with rattan extend for hundreds ofyards, forming a large "vee." Anchored into the sandy bottom with the open end facing the deep water, the fences gradually approach each other, funneling toward the narrow entrance to the main body of the trap. The fish pass through the entrance without difficulty, but long bamboo slivers, all pointing inward, keep the fish from exiting through this opening. All day long fishermen, in barotos, paddle around inside the traps, harvesting the fish by scooping them into their boats. It is not unusual to find ten or more traps at the entrance to any large river. Even in the bright light of day they present difficulties to incoming sailboats, for the tops of the fences barely break the surface of the water at high tide. Mindanao 53 The "bamboo telegraph" had announced our impending arrival, and as we beached the boat, the mayor of Dapitan was on shore to greet us, even though it was now around three in the morning. He led us to his home, where we were fed and bedded. Graham Nelson and his traveling companions hadn't arrived yet, so we retired, confident that we would claim our sailing victory in the morning. When morning came, Nelson and his companions still hadn't arrived at Dapitan. We waited until noon before considering that Graham's boat may have missed Dapitan and landed instead at Dipolog, some ten miles away. We then set out by bus to look for them, arriving in Dipolog at about three in the afternoon. There, we heard a very disquieting story. The crew of a native boat had arrived that morning and told ofbeing intercepted by a Japanese cruiser while crossing the Bohol Sea from Zamboanguita. Their passengers, three Americans and one Chinese, were taken prisoner by the Japanese. There was no doubt that the captives were Graham Nelson and his companions. They had waited for the cover of darkness -certainly a more prudent plan than ours. But they had been picked up by the Japanese while we, setting out in broad daylight, had made the crossing safely. We then began to realize how little thought and preparation counted, and that plain old luck was what counted most. We would continue to see luck playa large part in our lives. Regularly scheduled buses were still running in this area of Mindanao, for the Japanese had not yet moved in. The following morning we boarded one to Misamis to establish ourselves once more with the U.S. Army. The bus was overloaded, with passengers riding on the running boards and on the top. The trip was very interesting, for it afforded us a fleeting glimpse of a facet of Filipino life we had not seen before. Just as the language dialects varied from island to island, so did the industries, the farming methods, and the crops. The Panay farmers ' main crops were rice and sugar cane. The farms we saw along this road were very different. While Mindanao's farmers, too, grew rice in abundance, we saw here cultivated coconut groves and banana , pineapple, and cacao plantations-crops with which we were unfamiliar. All the farms and towns and barrios we passed through appeared to be prosperous, and there was no indication of a rapidly approaching war. <3Siquijor ..........~·'a...boauguit. MoroGulf Celebes Sea Central Mindanao Mindanao Sea CjCamiguin a 0 .Q6 Sarangani Islands Mindanao 55 At the city ofMisamis, we were driven directly to the ferry landing . We boarded the boat and crossed the narrow neck of !ligan Bay to Kolambugan, a lumbering center across the bay. There, an American officer bound for !ligan in a private car offered to take us with him, an offer that we gladly accepted. The road to !ligan was unpaved, but in fair condition. It wound through many small barrios as it made its way along the coast of !ligan Bay, crossing several shallow rivers, some wide and others narrow, on one-lane wooden bridges. At one of these crossings there was a PT boat beached in the shallow water. Many men, both Americans and Filipinos, were working around it. We were told that the engines were being removed to be taken to Lake Lanao. Soon the hull would be towed there, the engines reinstalled, and the boat would provide transportation for the military around the lake. We arrived at !ligan at about noon and headed for the one place hospitality was certain to be found in any town-the Catholic convent . Lunch was just being served to the several American officers billeted there, and we were invited to join them. After a good meal, the conversation turned to the military situation and our proposed trip to Australia. Without exception, the officers and priests advised against trying to sail to Australia at this time of the year. The northeast monsoon, on which we would be dependent , blows almost continuously from November to May, but it was now being replaced by the southwest winds. "You ain't got a chance of making it," they insisted. "Not 'til November or December." Although we were determined to attempt the trip, we finally decided to follow their advice and delay our departure. Meanwhile, we would pitch our lot with this remnant of the army until later in the year. At the time the military situation on Mindanao was rather confusing . The main body of troops, both American and Filipino, was scattered along the Sayre Highway, the one central artery stretching from Cagayan to Davao, with headquarters in Malaybalay. These troops were under the leadership of Maj. Gen. William Sharp, commander of all the Mindanao forces. The several existing airfields were located along this route. The few B-l7's still flying to and from Australia landed near Malaybalay. 56 Fugitives With headquarters near Dansalan, on Lake Lanao, was a second force under the command of Brig. Gen. Guy O. Fort, a former U.S. Army officer who had served as commanding officer of the Philippine Constabulary in Mindanao since his retirement many years before . General Fort had been enforcing American and Philippine laws among the Moros and was an expert in handling these warlike people. Except for a few American officers, both of these forces were made up ofFilipinos, mostly Christians, although the training of Moros for possible future guerrilla duty was well under way. Besides these two forces, there were many small, scattered groups of navy and air force personnel who had long since lost any connection with their ships or their military units. They had attached themselves to these army units as a means of survival, and were assigned to specific army duties although they were not directly under the command of any army force. These scattered groups eventually formed the nuclei of many of the guerrilla organizations. Transportation to Dansalan being easily arranged, we left early in the afternoon by army truck. After leaving the lowlands along the coast, the vehicle ground its way up a steep, tortuous road through deep forest. Occasionally we passed through a small, level valley with a several-house barrio in the center. Much of the road closely paralleled the Argus River, which flows from Lake Lanao northward to the sea. Dropping nearly five thousand feet in about five miles, the Argus has a potential hydroelectric capacity exceeded by no other river in the Philippines, although at the time it was underdeveloped. Dansalan was a small city-population two thousand or solocated on the shore of Lake Lanao. It was a popular resort town because of its relatively cool climate, few mosquitoes, and, therefore, absence of malaria. There were several fancy-by local standardsresort hotels operated by Americans. Almost all the native inhabitants were Moros, and their habits and customs were of great interest to us, as we had never before seen a Moro village. Filipinos could be divided into three major religious groups: Mohammedan , Christian, and "other." The Moros, or Mohammedans, occupied much ofMindanao, especially the mountainous western area and the Zamboanga Peninsula. Christian Filipinos, mostly Roman Catholics, made up almost ninety percent ofthe total Philippine popu- Mindanao 57 lation. They lived mainly on the islands north of Mindanao, although in recent years they had been moving to Mindanao in increasing numbers , until they now made up over fifty percent of the population of that island. The "others"-Minobos, Igorots, Magahats, and other semi-civilized groups-were scattered throughout the islands. The Moros were rugged individualists. They were proud ofthemselves , their religion, and their habits. They had no desire to copy American customs. The wealthiest Moro may have owned an automobile or a watch and would smoke an American cigarette when offered to him. But his greatest pride came with the ownership of a modem rifle or shotgun, meant only to simplify his way of life, not to change it. Many of the younger Moros spoke fair to good English since it was taught in the schools. It was frequently spoken in their homes as well. For centuries the Catholics, under Spanish rule, had lived by the tenets of, and under the control of, the Roman church. Under the protective arm of America for the past forty years, a trend toward a Western type ofcivilization had gradually emerged. This created some conflicts with the teachings of the church-mainly economic-for the people began to spend more of their meager earnings on themselves and donated less to the Church. They purchased cars, radios, American-style clothes, electric refrigerators, and, in general, tried to follow American habits and customs. Not that they were completely successful in becoming Americanized, but even the poorest tao hoped to someday be able to buy American products. The "others" were pagans, each group with its own brand of worship of a deity. Many shunned civilization as we know it. Some Igorot tribes, for example, lived in the jungles where they survived by killing animals with their skill with a bow and arrow, frequently eating them without cooking, and often slept at night nestled in a pile of leaves. We stayed at a hotel owned by an American couple. It was quite modem , operated on the American plan, and the meals were largely of imported food. It was filled with American and English refugees like us. A few army officers also stayed there. After we spent two days wandering through the town, discussing the military situation and the impending Japanese occupation, we were given assignments with the army and departed to our various 58 Fugitives posts. Charlie Smith was sent back to Iligan to make preparations for blowing up the concrete dock should the evacuation of that town become necessary. Chick Smith, who had been the chief mechanical engineer at the Masbate mines, went to a motor pool on the west side ofthe lake, about ten miles away, to take charge of automotive repairs. I was sent to General Fort's headquarters at Bubong, about fifteen miles southeast, to take charge of road and bridge construction. Bubong was a small Moro barrio located in the flat Lake Lanao basin at the edge of the jungle-covered mountains that rose abruptly out of the plains. About one mile back into the jungle stood our headquarters , and a dark and dreary place it was. A few semipermanent buildings had been built of bamboo and rattan for use as bodegas. A few temporary barracks built of the same materials had been constructed , well scattered under the trees. The rainy season had just begun and the camp rapidly became a quagmire. The roads, those in the mountains as well as those on the plains, became more impassable with each day. It was my job to grade, ditch, and hard-surface these roads. I was thankful that most of the grading and ditching was completed before I arrived. All the work was done by hand under what, at times, proved to be extremely trying conditions. Small gangs of Moro laborers were assigned to sections of the road. Rocks three to six inches in size were hauled in and, like the coral paving of the airports on Panay, laid on the roadbed by hand. Some twenty to thirty gangs were employed , each with a Moro capataz in charge. Without Hassan, the foreman, I could have done nothing, for only he could get the gangs to work toward a common end. Each gang was a separate entity under direct control of its capataz, who was usually chief of the small tribe from which the whole crew came. Men could never be transferred from one group to another, and certain groups could not even be assigned to work near certain other groups. Knives were carried by everyone as a part of their working garb, and the possibility of the knives being used in hand-to-hand combat with an adjoining group was ever-present. Hassan went everywhere with me. He spoke English quite well and served as my guide and as my interpreter, passing my instructions to the teams. He also was my instructor in Moro habits and customs. A major problem was finding more laborers, for the hard-sur- Mindanao 59 facing work would soon be impossible because of the intensity of the rains. The only way to hire laborers was to find a datu-a Moro chieftain -who had enough relatives or friends to make up a full gang. We rapidly ran out of sources. One afternoon, Hassan and I visited Sultan Sa Romaine at his home. We were cordially received and were supplied with several more gangs. Sultan Sa Romaine was the leader, both politically and religiously, of all the Maranao Moros. He was liked and respected by both Moros and Americans. His son, Aleonto, had recently graduated from the University of the Philippines, and we had long discussions ofthe war situation. We agreed that the Japanese occupation would soon come and that they would probably occupy the settled portions ofthe island without great difficulty. However, we were also sure that guerrilla action would continue under General Fort indefinitely. He assured me that the Moros would never surrender and would assist the Americans in their guerrilla fighting. I didn't feel comfortable in trusting Aleonto. He was frightfullooking , having a hollowed-out depression where the eye he lost in a brawl had been, and he wore a permanent snarl on his face. But I misjudged him, for he became one of the strongest resistance leaders among the Maranao Moros. Frankly, I never trusted Hassan entirely, either. It is hard to trust someone you have known for only a short time, especially if his coal-black teeth are filed to points and a kris is strapped to his waist. But he was a good companion and helper. We had few disagreements. Once I thought he wasn't cooperative. It was our second morning together. We were standing in the middle of the road discussing the operations and I thought a couple of changes should be made. "Hassan," I said, "Have this ditch dug a little deeper." "Why, Sir," he answered. "Because it is not big enough to carry the water. And also widen the road a little here for a turnout." "Why, Sir," he answered again. I was a bit peeved by his responses, but said nothing to him. However, at noon I remarked to Lt. John D. Stuckenberg, engineering officer for General Fort, that Hassan didn't follow instructions too well, for he kept questioning my orders. 60 Fugitives "Every time I tell him to have the workmen do something differently , he asks 'Why?'" The lieutenant and several other officers at the lunch table laughed, then explained Hassan's continued query. "Why," pronounced "wy-ee," is the Moro dialect word for "yes." Road construction didn't continue for long. About 7 May, Japanese troops landed in force at Parang on the south coast, and the following day at Cagayan on the north coast. Dansalan was bombed and most of the city destroyed, fortunately with small loss of life. A civilian evacuation camp was opened for the Americans and the English at Tamparan and many people were moved there. Many, myself included, remained with the army. Supplies were moved rapidly to the headquarters camp at Bubong. For several days, the roads were crowded. Luckily, there was no rain. The holding action along the Parang-Dansalan road was not going well and the Japanese forces were reported to be advancing rapidly from the south. The army troops were, of course, under orders to continue to resist, but we civilians were given permission to leave ifwe desired, although the army would be glad to have us Americans stay to help lead the Moros. About this time Hassan and I had a serious conversation regarding the proposed guerilla movement. His chief concern was whether or not I expected to stay and fight as a guerrilla. After I had said I was staying, he asked, "Are you married?" I, of course, answered, "Yes." "Is your wife American or Christian?" I hesitated for a second or two before saying, "American." I then explained that my wife and my son were also Christians, but were living in America. "Mister Ham," he said, "If you are with me in the guerrilla, you will live with me. My people will take care of you. Do not worry." This however, never came to pass. On the morning of the Japanese landings, all the Moro crews were still working on the roads. One large crew of Moros had been sent several miles back into the jungle to clear trails and to put a roof on a large building to be used as emergency headquarters should further evacuation become necessary. Mindanao 61 Early in the day, we heard rumors of considerable shooting at the jungle camp. At first, the story was that Moros and Filipino soldiers had started shooting at each other. I could see a tense situation developing, and it seemed to me that every Moro laborer along the road was getting ready to turn against the American and Filipino soldiers in retaliation. A Moro uprising on the heels of the Japanese landings could really become a problem. For almost an hour, this tense situation continued. Then we learned that the battle was a personal feud among a few Moros. One man had been killed and several injured. Learning that the trouble was entirely between Moros was quite a relief to me. Hassan and I moved down the road in a small car to another section of the work. After driving for several miles, checking the construction as we went along, we saw a group of about fifteen people walking toward us-they looked like a parade, occupying the entire width ofthe roadway . They were waving their arms and shouting. Hassan said urgently, "Get to the side of the road and stop. Get your gun ready but keep it out of sight. I don't think there will be trouble but I don't know." I did as told and sat there waiting, with no idea of what was going on or what might happen. As the group came close, I could see that an old woman was leading them. She was skinny and wrinkled, stark naked above the waist, displaying the effects of pectoral muscle atrophy. Grasped in her two hands was a three-footlong sword that she swung from side to side and above her head. All the rest were Moro men. They were also naked above the waist and were armed with swords, knives, and guns. As they marched down the road, a continuous chant or wail came from their lips as they all brandished their arms from side to side. They passed by us without looking to right or left, rousing in me a great sigh of relief. Hassan then explained that they were all relatives of the Moro who had been killed that morning. The leader was the mother of the slain boy and was leading the band to a battle to avenge her son's death. He also told me that the long two-handed sword that she was carrying, which he called a campilon, was an heirloom that had probably been in the family for centuries. Weeks later I was able to examine several ofthese swords closely. Each was inlaid with Spanish coins bearing dates prior to 1700. Most had intricately carved handles, and the blades were etched with com- 62 Fugitives plicated designs. Some were decorated with silver filigree and motherof -pearl inlays as well. In contrast, the scabbard, or sheath, was crude and unornamented. It was simply two pieces of thin, roughly-shaped wood placed on both sides of the blade and tied together with two or three flimsy strips ofrattan. Custom decreed that the blade must never be unsheathed unless blood was let. In use, the long sword was swung with both hands, scabbard and all, at the victim. The razor-sharp blade easily cut through the rattan bindings and continued on into the victim's body. Afterward, a new scabbard was made. Hassan also explained to me the other knives that were being carried-the kris and the barong. The kris is a stabbing knife, usually about eighteen inches long and one and one-half inches wide-razorsharp on both edges as well as on the fairly blunt point. The blade may have up to seven waves in it, and each knife has a specific native name indicating the number ofwaves in the blade. The handle is quite ornate and highly decorated with silver and pearls. The barong is a chopping knife, used mostly for beheading. It has a blade also about eighteen inches long but only one edge is sharpened while the other edge is almost one-quarter of an inch thick. At the center, the blade is three inches wide, tapering to a sharp point at the end and back to almost no width at the handle, which is ofhighly polished hardwood. An unusual thing about the handles of all Moro knives used as weapons is an attached strip of cheap, colored cotton cloth about two feet long. Before going into battle, the cloth is wound around the palm and fingers of the hand and back over the end of the handle, thus effectively tying the knife to the hand. Unless this is done, it gets so slick with blood that it can't be grasped tightly. I never did learn whether the party was successful in gaining revenge, but I believe they turned back before encountering the foe. After the relatives of the slain boy passed, Hassan and I drove about three miles to where a road was being constructed that would run to the site of a new camp. This camp's purpose was meant to be secret. But in the Philippines there were no secrets, and everyone knew that this would be the headquarters for Gen. Jonathan M. "Skinny" Wainwright after the inevitable fall of Corregidor. It was never occupied by him, however, for he was imprisoned by the Japanese when he surrendered the Philippine Islands to the enemy. While inspecting the road, I was introduced to General Sharp, Mindanao 63 who complimented me on the way the construction work was being done-then chewed me out for allowing the trucks to become so bunched up as to present a perfect target for Japanese planes. It mattered not, for it was the last day ofmajor roadway construction. In the future, all would be destruction. On the second day after the landings, the hospital was moved from Dansalan to Bubong. Wounded men, mostly Filipinos, started coming in, relating stories of the unstoppable Japanese steamroller they had encountered. Dansalan was bombed and burned, and daily our defending forces dropped back farther. Most of my time was spent near Bubong, as there was much work to be done around headquarters . Supplies were continually going out to the forces orbeing brought back when they were no longer needed. The rains had started, and every afternoon almost infinitesimal clouds suddenly gathered together and dropped rain by the bucketfuls. To get trucks up the steep, winding dirt road was an arduous task. About this time, two PBY's-twin-engined amphibious airplanes -had been sent from Lake Lanao to Corregidor to evacuate the nurses and a few key officers. On return, one of the planes landed at Malaybalay to refuel, then proceeded to Australia. The other developed engine trouble and during its landing on Lake Lanao, the hull was punctured. It was necessary to beach the ship. Since repairs were thought to be impossible, all the nurses were sent to Malaybalay by truck, there to be picked up by a B-17 being flown in from Australia . The Japanese, however, captured Malaybalay and no more planes arrived. The nurses were taken prisoner and interned at Santo Tomas University in Manila for the duration of the war. The stricken PBY was not a total loss, however. Working around the clock for the next two days, stranded army air corps mechanics repaired the jagged holes with abaca cloth and pitch. Whether the patches would hold for a takeoff was very doubtful, but the pilot took on board any navy personnel who wished to risk the flight. He refused to take any army men, although there were many who had worked on the ship who begged to be taken along. It took off late in the afternoon, with the advancing Japanese only a few miles away. It was loaded to less than half its capacity, and arrived safely in Australia a short time later. 6+ Fugitives Although the air corps men who had been left on the shore of the lake were very bitter, most of them eventually realized that the pilot's refusal was not due to any organizational rivalry or animosity. He had been ordered to bring out a specified group-a group now prisoners of the Japanese. The army was still under orders to defend the Philippines. As far as he knew, any army men who left the islands would be deserters. He did not wish to be a party to desertions. Within a week after the landing at Parang, the Japanese forces were occupying nearly all of the western shore of Lake Lanao. They were rapidly advancing unopposed from the south along the east side ofthe lake toward Dansalan, for the Filipino troops were deserting en masse, throwing away their arms and uniforms and fading into the civilian population. Colonel Vesey, with what was left of his regiment , had moved back to the camp that had been constructed for General Wainwright. After dark, we were to move this force to our camp near Bubong. Lieutenant Stuckenberg and I left Bubong in the afternoon with the few trucks that were still operational and located the remains of Vesey's regiment. For the past week they had been fighting a very fine holding action against overwhelming odds along the west shore of the lake, and even now were being pulled back only because the encircling action of the Japanese had almost cut off their last chance of withdrawal. Colonel Vesey was asleep on the ground when I first saw him. With the exception of the guards and sentries, the entire regimentofficers and enlisted men, Americans and Filipinos-lay amid the trees, all resting or sleeping. This was their first opportunity to enjoy the luxury of rest in almost a week. For a long hour, "Stukey" and I waited, talking to some of Vesey's officers who were awake, biding our time until four o'clock, when the colonel had left orders to be awakened. At one minute after four, the entire camp was a mass of activity, preparing for the trip to Bubong. It was then I had my introduction to Col. Robert H. Vesey. He was a small man, and very calm. Nothing seemed to bother him. News, favorable or unfavorable, made no visible impression on him. A career officer, a graduate ofWest Point, he instilled confidence by his demeanor. The only unmilitary thing about him was the small monkey that sat on his shoulder most of the time. Mindanao 65 I don't believe I ever saw the monkey more than ten feet away from him-most often, it was in his lap. Until five o'clock, we lolled under the trees, opining on the future while awaiting chow call. It was now only a matter of days before the Japanese would control all roads. We were sure that organized guerrilla action would continue indefinitely. Colonel Vesey asked me if I expected to go with the civilians to their evacuation camp. When I told him that I would prefer to remain with the army, he was quite pleased. He said he thought it was a wise choice, and probably safer than going with the civilians. He then asked if I would take charge of the loading and transportation of the troops, which I was glad to do. Immediately after eating, we loaded the trucks with most of the equipment and the first contingent oftroops. Though the menjammed every conceivable space, we were only able to get about half of them on the trucks. They left at about six-thirty with two Americans and most of the Filipino officers. The rest of us settled down to await the return of the trucks for a second load, expected to be at about nine o'clock. All was calm. The moon was full. Our conversation had little to do with the war until about eight 0'clock, when the silence was broken by a fusillade of rifle shots, which continued spasmodically for some time. They were far in the distance and seemed to come from the Bubong area. It appeared almost certain that the Japanese had moved faster than expected and had ambushed our truck convoy. Colonel Vesey immediately moved all of us away from the road and into the trees, then set out guards in all directions. He sent a small party of Filipinos on back trails toward Bubong with orders to return with information as soon as possible. The rest of us could do nothing but wait. All was silent, but we started hearing things-inexplicable noises that never developed into anything. Again we relaxed, albeit tensely, and settled back. It was nearly eleven before the lights of several vehicles could be seen coming down the road. The same old question arose: Were they our trucks returning or was it a Japanese convoy? Several of us hid in the ditch along the road. Soon they were before us, and we recognized our own equipment and drivers. The rifle fire? Someone had failed to advise the Bubong guards of the impending arrival of the convoy. The guards, believing that a 66 Fugitives Japanese column was approaching, opened fire. The troops in the convoy, assuming that Bubong had been taken by the Japanese, leaped from the trucks, took cover, and returned the fire. It was almost fifteen minutes before the situation cleared. By that time many of the troops seeking cover had scattered, and it took almost two hours to get them reassembled, reloaded, and taken on to the camp. Three or four men were killed and several were wounded due to this brief and inexcusable mistake. The rest of us loaded onto the returned trucks as rapidly as possible and arrived in Bubong about an hour later. Confusion reigned at the Bubong camp for the next week. We lacked a G-2 section to assemble and interpret intelligence information . For example, a large column of Japanese troops was reported to have passed along the east shore of Lake Lanao toward Dansalan at about nine in the morning following our arrival at Bubong, but this information was never confirmed. The information had come from some Moro scouts and from a few Americans who dared to make nightly trips to the lake. But no one would say they actually saw them. It became prudent to move army headquarters farther back into the hills, and to begin guerrilla activities. General Fort and most of his staff moved ten kilometers eastward into the mountains, leaving Colonel Vesey in charge at Bubong. All supplies and movable equipment were moved back into a newly prepared position in the hills. The headquarters camp was relocated into the heavy jungle, about a mile and a half above the plains. Actually, it comprised two small camps. Halfway up the steep, winding road was the location of most of the Philippine troops and engineers. At the end of the road were located the headquarters, many of the largest warehouses, and the hospital. Between the two camps, the road passed for several hundred yards along a side hill, from which the valley could be seen. Heavy rain storms were frequent, and the road became impassable on many days. Wounded soldiers were still being brought in almost every day, and there were probably fifty or sixty in the temporary hospital. Colonel Vesey immediately stationed a lookout at the side hill, with two American officers and a small detachment of Philippine Mindanao 67 soldiers on guard there at all times. A larger group of Filipinos was deployed along the base of the hill, also as guards. Vesey's unit had few American officers, so he inducted me into the U.S. Army as 2d lieutenant. The colonel told me that since I had indicated I was planning to stay with the army and help them, it would be advisable for me to wear insignia. On a morning we were all gathered around in camp, he asked the group if anyone had any extra insignia of any kind. The only response was from a naval lieutenant commander. He had some small oak leaves. These the colonel gave to me, with the remark that a promotion from 2d lieutenant to major in thirty seconds was the most rapid advancement in rank he had ever seen. For the next week, I spent most of my time on lookout duty without seeing any sign of Japanese in the plains below. Nor did I receive any reports of Japanese movements. It was known that there was a large force of Japanese in Dansalan. Apparently, few were moving out into the country. General Fort and his party returned from the upper camp after several days. He took command, making arrangements for guerrilla warfare. Col. Alejandro Suarez, a Moro-English mestizo who had previously been a major in the Philippine Constabulary, was put in charge of guerrilla training and began organizing the Moros and Philippine soldiers for eventual guerrilla warfare, in anticipation of our impending forced move into the hills. Colonel Suarez was about fifty years old and, at over six feet tall, he was one of the tallest Filipinos I have ever met. He spoke very good English, as well as all Moro and many Philippine dialects. Rumors ofimpending Japanese movements were quite common, and we began the transfer of supplies and wounded back even farther into the hills. Several times Japanese planes flew over us at very low altitudes. They did not seem to locate us and there was no shooting. For several days, General Fort had been trying to make radio contact with General Sharp, who was near Malaybalay. With only one small portable transmitter available, he was not successful. The larger radio equipment had been destroyed during the Japanese advance on us a week previously. During this period, we set out to destroy all heavy equipment and supplies that could not be moved back into the hills to prevent it 68 Fugitives from falling into the hands of the Japanese. For several days we were engaged in blowing up bridges, destroying automobiles and tractors, and burning ammunition and gasoline supply dumps. It was merely a matter of a short time until organized resistance to the Japanese on Mindanao would cease. ...