Lunga Point (CVE 94) - Naval Cruise Book

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Ronc scarcely a mile, I looked hack and saw a Rreat billow of smoke whii ii mark d ihe final resting place of our gallant Avenger. We were taken to a village or Barrio, about a mile and a half from where we landed. This would be al)out twelve miles south of Tarlac, and near the villau;e of Concepcion. The countryside throuijh which we passed was in the heart of an agricultural district cut up into small rectaiii;ular fields and farms. There were few dwellinp;s in evidence, but along the way men, women and children would suddenly appear ofTerinc; us fresh eggs, little cakes of sugar and other edibles. We had so many eggs that wc could not carry them all, but we ate all wc could raw and took the rest with us. Every- where wc were greeted with Americano, after which the people would stare at us as though we were strange creatures newly arrived from another planet. Soon we reached the barrio. Here vcrc grouped several houses of the thatched roof variety and which in .■ merica we would call huts. As we walked into the barrio and through the dusty main street, the whole pop- ulation turned out to welcome us. Their smiles and laughter would suddenly subside into stares. I have never been so stared at in my life and I guess we did our share of staring in return. For we had never seen at first hand the look an oppressed people bestows upon those who bring them promise of freedom after years of torture and misery. There is a look in the eye; an expression of face that tells what words cannot articulate. We four . mericans, in our funny Hying suits, toting our parachutes, first-aid kits, life jackets and other impedimenta of our kind, were symbols of imminent release from suffering and heartbreak for which these simple folk had prayed to Almighty God. .Since December 1 94 1 — three long years and more — these spiritually stalwart people had seen their land over-run, their crops and live- stock stolen, their sons and husbands tortured and killed, and their wives and daughters de- filed at the point of gun and bayonet by a God- less army of barbarians. The guerillas told me later that Red Cross shipments of medicines and supplies of mercy intended for our Ameri- can prisoners of war had been confiscated by Japanese authorities, diverted to their own greedy use, or sold to Filipinos at prices which only a handful could possibly pay. For ex- ample, a Filipino, ridden with malarial fever, could obtain a single capsule of quinine only by paying 1,000 Jap pesrjs the equivalent of about Si i.ck) in American money. They told me also of many unspeakable atrm ities inflicted on our prisoners, too horrible to relate here. In the barrio we were taken to a house and then- introduced to the leader of the guerilla forces in the immediate vicinity. He staled that he was in command of the 2nd Battalion of Hukbelahops, a unit of the Philippine .Xational .Xrmy. Hukbelahops, my ho.st informed me, meant Fighting the Japs. Later on we were to hear cjf many of the ex- ploits of this people ' s army as exciting and hair-raising a series of ad entures as ever were featured in the celluloid palaces of my home town, Front Royal, Virginia. The guerilla leader was young and said that his men were from 15 to 25 years of age, armed for the most part with old-style U.S. Army rifles and .45 caliber automatic pistols. They also had ac- cumulated an assortment of .-,0 and .30 caliber machine guns and numerous weapons taken from the Japs they had killed. Their ammu- nition was of various kinds and vintages and there was always need for more. From the tone of the leader ' s voice and the glint in his eye, I am sure that little ammunition was wasted. A Jap for every bullet was their motto. The leader informed us that clothing for his men was a real problem as the country was de- pendent on imports for its cotton and wool — imports which had been non-existent for three years. Many of the guerillas wore shirts and trousers fashioned from burlap bags and not a few wore parts of Jap army uniforms obtained by the simple expedient of killing the former owners. However, it seemed that nothing was too good for the Americano. .Several days later, when my fiying suit began to give off something of an aroma, one of my benefactors produced a pair of white cotton trousers, a dazzling blue sport shirt and a straw hat which he insisted that I accept. Not to have done so would have constituted an insult of the crudest kind. .So I donned the attire and spent the remaining days dodging Japs in an outfit that would have done credit to a country club sport. Prior to beginning our flights over Philippine territory, our Air Combat Intelligence officer had issued to each airman a packet containing 100 Philippine pesos, worth approximately S50.00 in -American money. This currency was to be used in the event any of us were forced down and presumably would purchase

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them didn ' t make it. but I don ' t know how- many we killed and wounded. Turning to get into position for a second run, I saw that the tanks, trucks and the automobile were burning merrily. Just to make sure. I made two more runs. After completing the hnal attack, and knowing that the Japs would nexer be able to use those vehicles again, I pulled up toward some o y foothills that fringed the otherwise flat plain. Here I saw what must have been several thousand Japs scurrying into fox-holes and fortified caves, the latter rein- forced and protected by thick concrete. If I had had rockets and a few bombs I could have made mincemeat out of quite a few of those emplacements and their occupants. Howe er. we still had plenty of ammunition for the guns .so we went in and strafed the troops and .set fire to a building which might have been a regimental headquarters. By this time the turret gun was out of ammu- nition: so Gliszcinski called and requested that I fly straight and level for a few moments so he coidd re-load. Accordingly, I levelled off at about 1500 feet. Suddenly I had a vague feeling that something was wrong with my engine. Checking the instruments hastily, I noticed that the oil pressure had dropped to zero. . lso, the prop governor was not func- tioning. We had seen some anti-aircraft shells burst behind us on one of our strafing runs, but I had not noticed any tracers from machine gun fire. However, it was certain that some Nip had put a lucky shot or two into our plane, .severing the oil line. We were in for it, no doubt about that. These engines are rugged and will take a beat- ing, but they won ' t run long without oil. I called my crew and passenger to stand by for an emergency landing and looked around for a likely place to set the 1 5,000 pound plane down. There were plenty of relatively flat fields below; so it was simply a case of picking the best one. Lt. Thalman called Commander Support Air- craft and reported the situation, gave our lo- cation and stated we were about to make an emergency landing. He received no acknowl- cdgement of the transmission due to the fact that his earphones had become disconnected. Meanwhile. I was concentrating on getting the plane down as intact as possible, heading in a long glide toward the field I had selected. We glided right over a Jap airfield, around the perimeter of which could be seen several single and t in-engine Jap planes nestling in the pro- tection of revetments. However, we didn ' t see any personnel or activity on the field itself. C:autioning the crew and observer to brace themselves, I brought the plane down in a wheels-up landing on a rice field. The rainy .season had long since passed and the field was dry. hard and rough. The Avenger skidded along on her oyster-white belly and came to a stop none the worse for her experience except for a bent propellor. As soon as the plane ceased its forward motion I radioed a message to the command ship and received a Roger. Well, at least somebody knew where we were and what had happened to us. Help would soon be on the way, we thought. My immediate concern was for the condition of my passengers, particularly for Lt. Thalman who had been riding in the second cockpit without benefit of a safety belt. Much to my relief, all hands reported Okay. Not one of us had been so much as scratched. Upon clambering out of the plane we sud- denly saw a sight that sent a momentary chill along our spines. Out of some distant weeds and brush came running toward us some twenty or thirty men. Our first thought was that they were Japs who had seen us go down and were bent on capturing us and our plane. We drew our revolvers, took shelter behind the fuselage of the aircraft and resolved to sell our li es as dearly as possible. As the men came closer, however, we saw to our relief that they were Filipinos — mostly boys in their late teens or early twenties. Suddenly w-e were sur- rounded and bombarded with cries of How. ya. Joe! .America no! and other equally heartening ejaculations. In surprisingly good English, they told us to come with them, that they would take us to the guerilla leader where we would be safe from the Japs. They also indicated that the Sons of Heaven were in the immediate icinity and that speed was of the essence. I told them that we would be happy to accompany them but that first it was necessary that we burn our maps and other confidential papers, and also destroy the plane. We immediately set about burning the papers. However, the Filipinos told us not to burn the plane as they would take care of that after stripping it of its precious guns and ammunition which were urgently needed by the guerillas. So we started off with the beaming and gesticulating youths, a small number of whom stayed behind to remove the guns and destroy the aircraft. Before we had 157

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for us the bare necessities of life until we could make our way to our own forces. We found, however, that this money was valueless to us, since the Filipinos would not accept payment for food or other articles of supplies with which they were so generous. So we passed the money out to them as souvenirs and they re- ceived it with great elation. All of them carried invasion money issued by the Japanese military government but this they would throw on the ground and stomp on, crying Damn Jap Pesos — no good ! American pesos — they good! One of our pesos was the equivalent of about 40 Jap pesos in purchasing power. The Filipinos gave us .American and Jap- anese cigarettes. A Spaniard who owned a sugar mill and was the leading citizen of one of the barrios because of his affluence, gave us — of all things — a bottle of Golden Wedding whis- key! He had been hoarding this since before the days of the Jap invasion and had reserved it for a very special occasion. Many of the Filipinos offered us native gin, distilled from sugar cane. It tasted like American gin, but packed a much more formidable wallop. The food we were given was abundant but monotonous. It consisted of boiled rice, meat from the ubiquitous carabao, chicken, eggs, bananas, and fresh tomatoes which were us- ually on the green side. The carabao meat was tough but quite tasty and all the food was well seasoned. We considered this fare sur- prisingly good for a country .Nhose farms had been picked again and again by the Jap vul- tures. We knew, howe er, that our food came from carefully hidden supplies and that many were going without so that we could eat. The health of the people seemed fairly good in spite of the acute shortage of medicines and medical care. There was much evidence of malaria and of nutritional deficiency diseases. And many of the guerillas had nasty looking leg sores. I noticed one lad in particular who had an unusually ugly sore on his leg. It was open and exuding pus, and extended for six inches across the front of his leg. I told him to go out of the house and he soon returned with no fewer than fifty of his companions similarly afflicted. So we set up a regular hospital ward, applying sulfa powder and bandages from our first-aid kits as long as the supply lasted. To say that our patients were grateful is something of an understatement. We spent our first night. 1 1-12 January, as guests of the guerilla leader in a one-room, thatched-roof house with woven mats for beds. Several guerillas of subordinate rank also shared our room. At bedtime, I removed my Mae West, the bright yellow inflatable life jacket that all carrier pilots and air crewmen wear, my jungle knife and my revolver and holster. The latter I placed several feet from my pallet, whereupon one of the guerillas cautioned me to keep it within arm ' s reach as I might need it before the night was o er. Japs near — may come, he said. But the night and the next day were uncvent- fiil and Lt. Thalman, Glizczinski, Kirkpatrick and I were given an opportunity to get better acquainted with our new found friends. We discovered, for example, that the guerillas are strictly a military organization spending hours each day in close-order drill and maneuvers. The lads took great pride in their skill with the rifle. One youngster — he couldn ' t have been more than 1 5 — performed the manual of arms for a solid hour, .solely for my edification. Even the toughest Marine sergeant would have admitted that the kid was terrific. He doesn ' t remember how many Jap soldiers he has killed. During the early morning ve would see Jap planes flying low overhead. Then by mid- morning they would disappear and our own planes would come over. The latter we frantically signalled with the few flares we had salvaged from our plane and with our signal mirror, but to no avail. It gave us a helpless feeling. Just before dusk, the Jap planes would again put in an appearance. Although we had blasted many of them out of the sky and had destroyed many more on the ground, they still managed to get more into the air. We consoled ourselves with the thought that soon our forces would overrun the well hidden Jap fields and capture the planes our pilots couldn ' t find. I had been curious to know how the Filipinos felt about the damage inflicted on their homes and villages by our bombers. Many civilians had doubtless been killed and wounded by our air attacks, since the Japs had established fuel and supply dumps and many other kinds of ground installations throughout the island. These could not be destroyed from the air with- out cost to the Filipinos. Standing in the en- trance of our house one night I expressed my curiosity to the guerilla leader. He shrugged. The Filipinos are ery grateful to the .Ameri- canos. We kno - that some must die so that