Ferron Edwin Cummins - Philippine Defenders Main

THIS IS MY STORY
1937
High School
Events and Circumstances
From 1937 to 1946
By: Ferron Edwin Cummins
Prepared: 1 February 1990
1944
Prisoner of War
1946
S/Sgt Ferron E. Cummins

THlS IS MY STORY
Events and Circumstances from 1937 to 1946
By: Ferron Edwin Cummins
Prepared: February 1990
I graduated from higb scbool in Lake Artbur, New Mexico in May 1937 and left
almost immediately for Tyler, Texas where my Uncle E. L. Hinton had arranged (or
a scholarship to Tyler Commercial College. With my business school credentials I
came borne in t 938 and finally secured a job as a teller/bookkeeper at the First
National Bank in Hagerman, New Mexico.
In 1940 war and rumors of war and the anticipated Draft Board notice inviting me
into tbe Army made my life a little unsettled. My brother, Gurvis was working in
Flagstaff, Arizona and the Draft Board was breathing down his neck so, he decided
to enlist in the Army Air Corp. To eliminate the anxiety of waiting for my draft
notice, I decided to go to Flagstaff where, 8 Novembcr 1940, Gurvis and I enlisted in
the Army Air Corps. This was a commitment of one year, after which we intended
to settle down to the task of making our first million.
We were sent to Brooks Field, San Antonio, Texas, for basic training. When we
returned from Christmas leave at home we brought my 1934 Chevrolet coupe back
with us. Our pay at that time was S18.00 a month with a small deduction for the
Old Soldiers Home. With that income we decided we could afford payments of
SIO.OO or S12.00 a month on a new car. A light blue 1940 Chevrolet convertible at
Smith Chevrolet on Broadway, in San Antonio, with 658 miles on the speedometer,
proved to be the car we couldn't live without. I sold that car in 1947 and still think it
was the most wonderful car ever made.
After Christmas we were transferred to Kelly Field, still in San Antonio, where we
dismantled buildings and cut bridle paths for the cavalry at what is now LackJand
AFR. [n February 1941 we received orders to report to Hamilton Field, San Rafael,
California (just north of San Francisco). Gurvis had to travel by troop train and r
was permitted to drive our car. (I guess tbat was my reward for being two years
older). Regulations at tbat time permitted only the owner of a vebicle to transport it
to the next duty station. We showed the First Sergeant the car title indicating both
Ferron E. and Gurvis L. Cummins as owners but young airmen that we were, we
didn't convince him and we traveled separately. Gurvis reminds me he got more
than his share of K.P. duty on tbat troop train ride while r was having a wonderful
cross country drive.
Gurvis was already assigned to the 70 lh Pursuit Squadron when I got to Hamilton
Field and that separated us because,1 was assigned to the 34 th Pursuit Squadron.
Both squadrons were under the 3S lh Pursuit Interceptor Group. From February to
November we performed our assigned duties. I was an Operations Clerk and

Gurvis was an Instrument Technician. I received orden to depart I November 1941
and Gurvis was to depart 20 November for "Project Plum" which was the
Philippine Islands but we didn't know that at the time.
Shortly after Gurvis and I arrived at Hamilton Field we signed up for pilot training
like all other patriotic, red-blooded American young men were doing. f left for the
Philippine Island, November I, and a few days later our Pilot Training orders came
through. Gurvis was removed from his scheduled, 20 November, shipment and
went to undergraduate pilot training and ultimately became a transport pilot. I
didn't know until after the war that Gurvis wasn't somewhere in tbe Philippines
with me.
The trip to the Philippines was aboard the U.S.S. Coolidge, a lUxury liner that had
not yet been converted to a troop carrier. It was elegantly outfitted, complete with a
band, fine cbina and silver, lovely chandeliers and beautiful furniture. Of course I
was a lowly corporal, a two striper, and was not privilege to some of these luxuries
but it was nice. Aboard the U.S.S. Coolidge were members of the 341h Pursuit
Squadron, tbe 21'1 Pursuit Squadron and tbe 27 1h Bomb Group.
The voyage was uneventrul except for an enjoyable day in Honolulu. We docked at
Pier 7 in Manila, Philippine Islands, 20 November 1941. I didn't have much time to
get acquainted with my sew surroundings because, the Japanese started bombing us
on 8 December, after they finished with their destruction of Pearl Harbor.
Nichols Field was my first brief home in Manila. We were housed two or three days
in tents and then assigned to barracks while we unloaded, unpacked and assembled
our equipment and cargo. However, my personal hold-baggage never did catch up
with me - I wonder where it eoded up? When we were assigned to a harracks we
had a houseboy who did our laundry, shined our shoes, cleaned our area, ctc. This
was sheer lUXUry that unfortunately didn't last very long. While we were at Nichols
Field I received one pass and went into Manila with several of tbe guys to check it
out. We looked around, ate at a nice restaurant (I had frog legs) and then took a
carameta ride back to Nichols Field. That was my only peacetime look at Manila -
a big adventure - and J wasn't too impressed.
About 3 or 4 December we moved down to Del Cannen Field, on the old Dcl
Carmen sugar plantation. We set up operations and my primary duty was manning
the radio. Early the morning of December 8 we saw Japanese airplanes and heard
that Pearl Harbor had been bombed. It didn't take long to learn what war was aU
about. On 9 December our airplanes were up and we witnessed "dog fights" with
the Japanese Zeros. One of our pilots, Lt. Page, had his airplane sbot up badly and
I recall him landing the damaged airplane, jumping out and saying, "I want another
plane!" That was the attitude of most of the men, very anxious to stop the invading
forces. We were assigned P-35 aircraft with radial engines and Swedish
instruments. Our Pilots were checked out in P-40 aircraft with Allison in-line
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engines. Getting acquainted with the P-35 aircraft in the early stages of the war was
interesting and in some instances disastrous.
The airfield, at Del Carmen, bad been made by bulldozing out through the sugar
came field and then the ground covered with heavy, dark molasses. When it dried it
made a good hard surface. The molasses was dispensed from a big oil tank car
parked near the airfield. Japanese pilots kept strafing the field and particularly
that tank car. You could almost see the Japanese pilots scratching their heads and
wondering why that oil tank car wouldn't blow-up. Incidentally we didn't lose
much molasses because sharpened bamboo sticks were driven into each hole as tbe
invading plane passed on.
There was a large, dense mango tree growing in a fairly good-sized sinkhole. It
made an ideal place to rest and relax when time and conditions would permit. One
day most of the ground personnel were eating lunch under the tree when the
Japanese fighters came for their bomb and target practice. They really did a good
job bombing and strafing the field but fortunately for us they missed the mango
tree. A strategically positioned mortar in the center of that tree would have wiped
out most of the ground personnel in one fly-over.
Christmas dinner, 1941, at Del Carmen Sugar Central Headquarters was a
wonderful meal complete with turkey and dressing and all the trimmings. But that
was tbe last really good meal we would have for nearly four years. That afternoon
we loaded our trucks and headed for the airfield at Orani, down on Bataan
Peninsula, where we set up our headquarters in a school building. The Japs
bombed and strafed the bridge at Orani and we were really too close. But fortunate
they didn't wipe out the bridge and we continued to use it. At Orani I recall one
squadron party with lots of beer iced down in washtubs. I didn't like beer at that
time so it was just a good social gathering for me.
After a few days, which would have been early January, we moved farther down on
Bataan Peninsula. The 34 th Pursuit Squadron was primarily assigned to defend
Aglaloma Points were the Aglaloma River empties into the China Sea.
Many of the events for the duration of the war, tbe troop surrender, the Death
March and my prison camp internment are vivid in my mind but, others are foggy
and the time elements and sequence of events become confusing to me. The rest of
my comments are not necessarily in chronological order, but I have identified dates
or linked events where my memory will permit.
From Orani we went on short, or reduced, food rations. First it was half our daily
ration, then one-fourth ration and by April, just before the surrender, we were on
one tenth our daily ration. Sgt Hardy, our Mess Sergeant, had made two trips to
Stotzenburg to get food supplies. We had begun to bury food for later use and to
keep the Japanese from getting it. But our food supply was depleting fast. On the
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Surrender was something that American troops did not do so it was a time of
dejection, confusion and turmoil. We were told to take the bolts, or firing pins, out
of our riffles and stack them in a designated place. We received two "e" rations of
food, climbed onto trucks and headed for Marvels, a distance of about 12
kilometers. We were stopped frequently and searched as the Japanese started
relieving us of our personal items. 1 had two watches and a penknife that I had
stored in the Squadron safe aod retrieved them when we were told to surrender. I
lost the watches during one of the first searches - the Japanese really liked
wristwatches.
The first night as a prisoner I was aboard a truck, r had to relieve myself and the
Jap guard let me. It is surprising to me, considering the treatment we received
later, but I talked the guard into letting me sleep on tbe ground tbe rest of the night
because the truck was over crowded. The next morning, Sergeant Hardy, our Mess
Sergeant, collected all the available food and made a very good stew - the last tasty
food for quite a while.
Out on "Clay Hill", near Mariveles, as we were assembled for the infamous "Death
March", we were placed in a kneeling position, searched again and left sitting in the
hot tropical sun for about six hours witbout food or water.
Word passed througb the ranks that tbe Japs were looking for knives and I had so
far concealed my gold penknife. By this time my better judgment told me to get rid
of it as soon as possible. I buried it in the field right where we were standing. Later,
we were alerted to the fact the Japanese were looking for any items marked, "Made
in Japan". They believed such items had to have been taken from some dead
Japanese soldier. Most of our combs, brushes, tooth brushed, etc. at that time, were
marked "Made in Japan". I got rid of my few possessions and didn't receive any
undue punishment for having "Made in Japan" items like some of tbe others did.
You could not reason with the Japanese and their erratic behavior got worse.
The Squadron personnel tried to stay together as much as possible. We formed sixman
buddy teams in an effort to stay together and belp each other. My buddy team
members were E.J. Batson, Larry Coben, Travis Dillon, Bud Ellsworth and Red
Fipps.
Before we left Mariveles, Travis Dillon got a can of corned beef hash from a
Filipino. It was good but, entirely too salty without adequate water and water was a
scarce item. Later, I saw a FilipiDo Woman with a tin cao filled with rice cakes and
cakes of pony sugar. Pony sugar was smaU cakes of solid dark sugar usuaUy fed to
their ponies. I was able to pay her S)O.OO for the can and its contents without the
Jap guards seeing me. We divided the contents among the six of us in my buddy
team and kept the caD. It proved to be a valuabJe item to scoop up water from the
artesian wells along tbe route when we could get close enough to a weD and a guard
wasn't too close.

I think it was the second day of the "March", we were herded off the road at Bataan
airstrip. We were allowed to sit but the guards made sure we circled four 155mB
artillery gUDS. The gUDS were firing across the bay at Corregidor. When the
American forces on Corregidor returned the fire their first mortar went over us and
the second mortar was short. The third mortar was on target and wiped out the
artillery guns. It would have killed most of the prisoners and guards but, without
any orders, all tbe prisoners and the guards had scattered to safety.
The "Death March", for me, started on 10 April ]942 at Mariveles and ended at
Camp O'Donnell on 2] April ]942. We marched from Mariveles to San Fernando,
a distance of about 120 kilometers, were placed in narrow gauge boxcars for a ride
from San Fernando to Capus and then walked approximately nine more miles to
Camp O'Donnell.
When I enlisted in the Army Air Corps I was strong, healthy and weighed
approximately 140 pounds. During high school I had heen very athletic and
remained active and in excellent physical condition. I was one of the healthier
individuals, weighing approximately 130 pounds when the "Death March" began. I
was strong enough to help some of my buddies and friends who were weaker. I
received one deep bayonet wound on my right leg during the "March" when a Jap
guard discovered I was helping a friend. I had two close friends removed my arms
and shot immediately. Another close friend went insane and dived head first from a
bridge to a dry rock bed below. During the "March" I passed blood from my
kidneys for about a week.. Approximately thirteen thousand Americans started the
" Death March" and about eight thousand survived the ordeal and reached San
Fernando.
A typical day on the "March" was endless marching, a few hours toward San
Fernando and then turning around and marching back a few hours. Monotonous,
one foot in front of the other. Always hungry and thinty, dejected and depressed.
Trying to stay alert for the irate behavior of the guards and trying to help ailing and
weary comrades. On the entire "March" I recaU receiving only one rice ball and
that was at San Fernando. After the first day or two we were unable to get food
from tbe Filipinos even though they constantly wanted to give us food. The
Japanese were determined that we would receive very little food and water. At
Orani some of the men were fed a small ration but the supply was inadequate and
was gone before I got tbere. I didn't see any rice mucb less anything else.
All Japanese guards were not mean and inhumane in their treatment but the
humane guards were definitely in the minority. Some bumane guards showed their
compassion by letting a group of us cleans ounelves and cool off in a river. I think
it was near Orani, I took advantage of the opportunity and removed my shoes and
went into the water clothes and aU. It was a good refreshing cleansing of body,
c10tbes and soul, as well as an opportunity to fill our canteens.

About ten kilometers out of San Fernando we had a start marching double time.
That was pretty rougb since we were hungry, thirsty, tired and sick. About this
time E.J. (Shorty) Batson got clobbered by a drunk Jap. Tbe Jap came out of a bar
and hit Sborty on tbe head, probably because he was the shortest person around
and more nearly the Japs size. Shorty was knocked out but we were able to carry
him the rest of the way into the enclosure (fenced in yard) at San Fernando. I don't
like to tell what we did to that Jap - he didn't fair very well - and thankfully we
didn't get caught, disposing of the Jap or carrying Shorty.
[n San Fernando I lost my Schaeffer pen and pencil set. I was trying to buy some
boiled eggs from a Filipino and got caugbt. Fortunately the guard was interested in
the pen and pencil and I bribed him with the set but, of coune, I didn't get the
boiled eggs. That pen and pencil had my name engraved in gold.
We were in the fenced enclosure at San Fernando about two day and nights then,
herded into narrow gauge boxcars. About sixty men would have been too many in
each car and they forced, like prodding cattle, about 125 men into each car. They
closed the door and locked it from tbe outside. With the tropical heat, no
ventilation, standing room only and tropical diseases rampant, tbe journey was
unbelievable. When the boxcar doors were opened at Capus tbere were a number
in my car that bad not survived the trip but so many had already died it wasn't
surprising.
After we were released from the boxcars the additional nine-mile walk from Capus
to our first prison camp, Camp O'Donnell, was just an extension of the inhumane
treatment of the "Death March" on Bataan. I think I arrived at Camp O'Donnell
on, 21 April, my sister's birthday. I had lost weight due to the food shortage prior to
the "Surrender" and the lack of food furnished on the "Deatb March". But, I bad
escaped the malaria, dysentery and other devastating ailment that had plagued so
many and caused many to die on the "March". However, before I left Camp
O'Donnell, the ravages of these ailments caught up with me.
At Camp O'Donnell we were bothered very little except when some Japanese guard
took a notion he wanted to be a big shot. He would work over several of us and we
could show no resistance because, if we harmed a guard in any way, ten men were
punisbed and usually killed. Our days were occupied burying our dead and
attempting to patch up our wounds and recover from our illnesses. One of the first
things we learned was to conceal all of our emotions.
The Japanese reasoned that slow starvation would make us too weak to attempt to
escape or resist authority. To further insure our lack of resistance, tbe Japanese
divided us into groups of ten men with the ranking NCO in charge. Our duty was to
assure each maD was familiar with the camp rules. The main rule being, "If one
prisoner escapes, the remaining nine will be sbot". Recaptured escapees were
paraded around tbe camp for some twenty-four boun and then used for bayonet
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practice. Each prisoner was punished for all crimes committed by the other nine.
was NCOIC of a squad of men during my entire internment.
At Camp O'Donnell I was assigned to work in the kitchen as a cook. But after
about three weeks of working close to the fires and out in the hot sun, I was
suddenly stricken with what was diagnosed as a sunstroke. This completely
incapacitated me for quite a while. During this same period I contracted dysentery,
malaria, dingy fever, wet and dry beriberi and yellow jaundice.
My malaria attacks would finally subside thanks to my good friend San Bass, who
got some quinine and shared it with me. The wet and dry beriberi were perplexing
and painful ailments. Dry beriberi affected the bone and was terribly painful. Wet
beriberi caused edema - swelling that stared in the feet and legs then went to the
upper extremities. When tbe swelling reached the heart it was usually fatal. It
seemed that the men with wet beriberi who laid down never did get up. With this
observation I resolved to never lie down when my wet beriberi was bad. Many
nights I would tie myself to a pole in a sitting position hoping to keep the severe
swelling from reaching my heart and lungs. It may not have belped but I was
determined to not give up. My legs swelled to at least twice their nonnal size. I got
so weak I had to be helped to the latrine facility (an open ditcb). I weighed about 75
to 80 pounds. Malnutrition caused these ailments with the exception of maybe
malaria and dysentery. I refused to go to the "hospital" or "zero ward"-those two
words translated to death and I wasn't ready for that.
At Cabanatuan Prisoner of War Camp I wasn't mistreated to aoy great detail. Still
suffering from dysentery, beriberi and malaria, a new ailment developed. My
breasts enlarged to an embarrassing size. They became extremely hard and
excreted a milky liquid for several months. Travis Dillon died here - he went
completely blind Shortly before he died. The other (our men of my original six-man
buddy team returned home.
As healthier pri.soners were moved to Cabanatuan Prison Camp, I was left at Camp
O'Donnell, along with hundreds of others, to die. Most of the others did die. 1 was
determined to get out of there and literally crawled out to catch one of tbe last
trucks for Cabanatuan, about 1 July 1942.
I left Cabanatuan about the 41h, 5 1h or 6 1h of October 1942 with a group of 1,000 men
destined for work details in Japan. At Bilibid Prison in Manila, the processing
station, my malaria flared up again. I was removed from the shipment to Japan and
once again left behind to die. About a month later I had recovered enough to go
with a small detail to McKinley Field where we walked about three miles each day
to Nielson Field. We built an airfield joining Nielson and Nichols Fields. In
building the runway we would give the survey sticks an extra bit - anything to
sabotage the Japanese efforts. That was about the most uneven runway ever built.
Their airplanes surely did bounce on take-offs and landings and little lakes formed
in the numerous low places.

Witts. (I remember it was early in the morning). Three planes came over; the
Enola Gay dropped the bomb and pealed off. Our camp was 18 km from the point
of impact according to our Honshu. The camp personnel had sounded an air raid
warning and we were supposed to go into a bug-infested buoker. ] liked the fresh
air better and] was also anxious to see what the beautiful American airplanes were
doing. We could see the large mushroom cloud and thought it must be an extra
large ammunition dump. Our guards were reaUy excited and next day they talked
about the devastation, with their eyes wide with amazement.
We took command of our camp 00 18 August 1945. The first Red Cross supplies
were dropped, with beautiful red, white and blue parachutes about that same time.
Like most other camps, we were anxious to use the parachute material and make an
American flag. Several of uS struggled for hours trying to remember how to fold
material to make a five-pointed star. We got the flag designed and took it to a
Japanese seamstress. The seamstress reluctantly worked all night to have the flag
ready for out brief ceremony at 11 :00 A.M. the next morning. There wasn't a dry
eye in the group when the flag was raised. It is believed to be the first American flag
to fly over the Japanese mainland in World War II. Col. R.T. Artman and Clifford
Omtvedt presented the flag and the Japanese bugle, used in our ceremony, to the
Smithsonian Institute in 1952. The flag, bugle and pictures of each of the one
hundred men of Camp 100 are on display at the Army museum at Fort Lee,
Virginia.
We were officiaUy liberated, 14 September 1945, when Army personnel; a 1 51
Lieutenant, a Nurse and a Sergeant; came into camp. It was a joyous day. We
marched out of camp and boarded little boats, about twelve men to a boat, aod went
across to tbe mainland at Onamichi. We boarded a train for Vokabama and began
our jounley borne. On the way to Yokahama we stopped in Hiroshema and I
witnessed the total devastation rendered by the first atomic bomb dropped on
Japan.
At Yokahama we were deloused, given wonderful American food, banded candy
and cigarettes, and supplied with a tooth brush and other personal grooming aids.
Then in groups of twenty-five we boarded C-47 aircraft and were flown into
Okinanwa. There we were met by American personnel, fed good old American food
once again and assigned to tents. It was about mid-afternoon and I walked down to
the waters edge and saw stacks of ammunition, bombs, food, eokes, - all kinds of
supplies that I hadn't seen in three and one balfyean. I was impressed.
Sleep came easily that night but about three in the morning we were awakened and
told we were leaving immediately because a typhoon was coming. I had been
through a few typhoons and wasn't interested in staying around to see what another
one was like. B-24 aircraft took us, eight or ten men at a time, into Manila.
There we officially joined the 29 1h Replacement Depot (29 1b Repot Depot) along with
hundreds of other released prisoners of war. It seems] was there a long time but it
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was only about two weeks. We were fed regularly, issued uniforms, given anything
we wanted and fed, fed, and fed, some more. Food seemed to be the most important
thing to us. My friend, Ed Babler, went to the mess hall, pulled two tables together,
prepared himself a bed on top of the tables and told the mess sergeant to bring him
a steak every hour - which they did. Most of us dido't go to quite that extreme but
we ate an unbelievable amount. I scnt a telegram to my parents soon after we
arrived in Manila assuring them I was safe and would soon be home and I'm proud
that I didn't mention food.
About the first of October I was among one thousand POWs and onc thousaod high
point veterans loaded aboard the U.S.S. Joseph P. Dickman and beaded for San
Francisco. (High point veterans were combat personnel who were returning home
after months and years of fighting). It was hard to believe I was truly going home
after four years! I was aSSigned to a low deck that was too confining. So. I took my
blanket and, along with lots of other POWs, I stayed upon deck all the way home -
about 20 days. The captain of the ship ordered all troops to chip paint and repaint
the ship - a common order for sea voyage military personnel. The lieutenant in
cbarge of our group challenged tbe order. He wired Gen. McArthur who sent
orders the POW passengers would be fed three meals a day and would work only if
they volunteered. We supposedly had sufficient food to feed the passengers and
crew all the way to Honolulu but seven days out of Honolulu we went on "K"
rations. In Honolulu they supposedly put on enough food to take us to San
Francisco plus another few days. But two days out of San Francisco we went back
on "K" rations. That was the beginning of some of out over eating habits. I went
from about 97 pounds to 172 pounds in about two months. My normal weight was
about 145 pounds
We docked in San Francisco on 20 October 1945. (I tbink). The Golden gate bridge
never looked better to anyone. When we were surrendered, 9 April 1942, tbe
Japanese inhuman treatment began; I resolved that I would survive if anyone did.
And I would be the first man off the ship when we started debarking form the U.S.S.
Dickman. We were taken to Letterman General Hospital where I stayed two or
tbree nights before I boarded a hospital train for Bruns General Hospital in Santa
Fe, New Mexico. At letterman we were issued pajamas and robes but this didn't
keep some of the guys from going out on the town. Likewise when the hospital train
started across New Mexico the native New Mexicans, predominately members of the
200 1h Coast Artillery, started climbing out tbe windows as the train stopped or
slowed down in their home town. Tbe poor nurses, responsible for our welfare,
tried vainly to keep their patients on board but, the excitement of home and loved
ones was too strong.
At Bruns General there were only three Air Force personnel in our group and the
Air Force took charge of getting us borne. I was in fairly good pbysical condition,
compared to many of the others and I was given the choice of remaining in the
hospital or going home for ten days. 1, of course, wanted to go home. The Air Force
sent a staff car from Albuquerque to take Frank Calvage to his home in Dawson, a
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small mining town in northern New Mexico. They sent a 8-17 to take me to Roswell
Army Air Field (a place I didn't know existed) and the other Air Force airman to
his home near Lubbock. The second lieutenant pilot requested a staff car to take me
for Roswell to my home at Lake Arthur, a distance of about thirty miles. The pilot
was only carrying out the orders that had been given to him and I didn't realize
what he had done. Shorlly after we landed I found myself, along with the pilot,
standing in front of the Wing Commander's desk. The Wing Commanders was Col.
(later Gen.) Blanchard. He wanted to know who I thought I was demanding a staff
car. 0 was only a Staff Sergeant). 1 told him I really didn't want a staff car and if
he would allow me to us a phone I would call my parents and they would come for
me. He then asked where I had been and when I told him I had been in the
Philippines and a prisoner of the Japanese for three and one half years he pointed to
his staff car and driver at tbe curb and said, "Take my car and driver and keep
tbem as long as you want tbem". I, of course, sent them back as soon as I got borne.
On the way home, at about 3:30 in the afternoon,. near tbe 'Mossman loading pens,
we were about to pass my dad and his Santa Fe Rail Road section hands going home
on the railroad motorcar. I asked tbe driver to stop and when Dad saw me he
jumped over the motorcar and came running. Dad would never let anyone else
drive his motorcar but, that afternoon he told the crew to take it 00 in and he rode
the rest of the way home in the staff car with me. IT WAS SO GOOD TO BE
HOME !
J was a patient at Bruns General Hospital until I was assigned to Roswell Army Air
Field, I June 1946, as my designated base of choice. I was a member of the 715 th
Bomb Squadron, under the famous S09 tb Bomb Wing that dropped the Atomic
Bombs on Japan.
World War II affected my life, like the lives of a lot of other young men and women,
both good and bad. Through my prisoner of war experiences I made some lasting
frieodsbips that are so strong it is sometimes difficult for people, who have not had
the experience,to understand. Without the help and support of my good friends
and a belief in God, 1 would never have survived the three and one balf years as a
guest of tbe Japanese government. My prisoner of war experience is something for
which I would not take a million dollars but I also would NOT go through the
experience again for ANYTHlNG in the world.
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