|
Wednesday, December 07, 2005
The Day After Pearl Harbor
earl Harbor
December 7, 1941 will be
commemorated in many ways all over the world today. The effect of that
stunning event on Filipinos and Americans in the Philippine Archipelago,
as on the Continent, was vast and immediate, for that generation of our
parents and grandparents, sixty-four years ago. On the very next day,
December 8, 1941 the Philippines
would be bombed and invaded by Japanese Imperial forces, attacking
Davao, Manila and various American military installations in Pampanga
(Clark Base of the US Air Corps) and
Baguio City. The latter is known today as the "Summer Capital of
the Philippines" because of its cool weather and tourist attractions.
(But I think
William Howard Taft and
Dean Conant Worcester had bigger plans for Baguio that somehow
never materialized..it should've been our Washington D.C. ...but that is
another story for another time...)
Today, borrowing from the vast store of memory that is the American
Historical Collection (presently housed in the Ateneo de Manila
Library, and thanks in part to Robert M. Robbins, Chairman of the
American Association of the Philippines) and its Bulletin Vol. XXX No. 4
(Oct. - Dec. 2002 pp. 9-15) Philippine Commentary publishes a
Reconstruction from a Diary Page of an American Filipino,
James J. Halsema of whom I knew very little myself until I
read this from
Grant Goodman:
James Halsema was born Jan. 1, 1919 in Warren, Ohio while his father,
who had joined the Philippine Islands Bureau of Public Works as an
engineer in 1908, was serving in the US Army Corps of Engineers. At the
age of six months, James, together with his mother and sister joined
their father E.J. Halsema in Zamboanga where he resumed his career with
the Bureau of Public Works. Seconded to develop the Malangas coalmine,
E.H. Halsema barely survived an epidemic of blackwater (cerebral
malaria) fever that killed 600 Cebuano workers. Sent to Baguio to
recuperate, E.H. Halsema stayed there 17 years
serving as city mayor and district engineer for Benguet.
James Halsema attended the prestigious Brent School in Baguio,
graduating in 1936 proceeding to Duke University where he graduated with
honors in History in 1940. He returned to the Philippines after the JASC
and was interned by the Imperial Japanese Army, which captured Baguio
Dec. 27, 1941.
The Mountain Trail, which is the road along the
Cordillera moutain range that connects modern day Baguio, Benguet
Province, to Bontoc, Mountain Province and beyond, is still called the
Halsema Highway, after E.J. Halsema, who was instrumental in its
construction in the early 1900s. The diary pages you are
about to read, describe that day in December, 1941 just a few weeks
before the Japanese Imperial Army captured Baguio on 27 December 1941.
Please bear in mind that it is just one man's recollection and point of
view of that portentous moment in history:
A RECOLLECTION OF THE DAY AFTER PEARL
HARBOR IN BAGUIO
by James J. Halsema
DECEMBER 8, 1941: The insistent
ring of the telephone woke my parents at their rented home at 14 South
Drive in Baguio. It was 4:45 a.m. Monday, December 8, 1941. The long
distance operator told Dad the call was from the Associated Press
in Manila and was for me. Bureau chief Ray Cronin was asking me to find
AP correspondent Russel Brines, who was resting in Baguio after being
expelled from Japan. On Saturday I'd taken bus up the Mountain Trail to
see the inauguration of a new public school at Kilometer 21 and to the
annual Brent-American [Manila] School Basketball Game. That evening I
took him to the Monday Club's box supper at the Country Club annex.
Between the 70 students from the two schools, Army enlisted men
attending a West Point prep school and a few Navy and Clark Field
officers and the resident American population, it was a gala occasion. "Tell
him the Japs have bombed Pearl Harbor," Cronin said calmly.
WAKE UP!
I drove a short distance along winding, deserted South Drive to
Teachers' Camp, where Russ occupied a ground floor apartment. He was a
heavy sleeper. I had to pound on the door and the window to waken him.
While he fumbled in the darkness for the light switch I shouted, "Russ,
wake up! Wake up! the Japs have bombed Pearl Harbor!" His groggy reply
was "They can't do that!"
The reaction was typical of Americans in the
Philippines, who were sure their armed forces could and would defend
them against an inferior enemy. Even for a man who had just come from
Japan, reality was difficult to believe. This attack was a challenge
that could only mean all out war. We were like the children of an aged,
ailing parent who know well that he will soon die but are emotionally
unwilling to accept the idea. We realized the tension building between
Japan and the United States, yet hoped -- with more intensity than
realism -- somehow it could be contained, at least until our side was
ready to meet the confrontation.
STUNNED:
We were the first to know in Baguio that war had come. Baguio did not
have a radio broadcasting station. Manila radio news did not air until
six a.m. Colonel John P. Horan, the commandant of the US Army's Camp
John Hay, got word from Baguio Vice Mayor Emil Speth at 6:15 (although
some claim he was told by the post radio operator). After confirming the
report from station KZRH himself, Horan ordered his men to be ready by
eight o'clock to assemble for the Lingayen Gulf beach defense envisaged
by War Plan Orange 3. He knew it had been superseded but -- like the US
Army Air Corps -- he lacked orders from a stunned United States Army
Forces Far East (USAFFE) headquarters, so he thought to cancel his
initial instruction in favor of merely putting a guard on post
utilities. He telephoned several American old-timers to meet with him at
nine to discuss the situation. As a quartermaster corps officer he knew
little of soldiering and nothing about the terrain he could see from his
post.
PRESIDENT QUEZON:
After rousing Brines, I went to President Manuel Quezon's private
residence on the edge of Burnham Park to get the Commonwealth
President's reaction to the war. His butler reported he was still in
bed. After a long wait, I joined fellow reporters Yay Panlilio of the
Philippines Herald (an
unbeknownst to me--an undercover agent for the U Army) and Jorge Teodoro
of Manila Tribune
to be admitted to Quezon's bedroom. Saturday we had been on the porch of
his official residence, the Mansion House, after a cabinet meeting
convened to receive a message sent by General [Douglas] MacArthur
through his Chief of Staff, Brig. Gen. Richard Sutherland. Quezon had
emphasized to us reporters the close relations between Americans and
Filipinos at a time of great crisis, so serious that all Philippine
public schools would be closed; he was obviously shaken by events and
had little to say except that he would order Jorge B. Vargas, his chubby
chief of staff, to return from Manila immediately by air.
Yay and I set forth for the Loakan airstrip
south of Baguio to await Vargas. In his ghost-written autobiography
The Good Fight, (New York, 1946) Quezon stated that after getting
the Pearl Harbor news from Vargas he ordered "George" to send Colonel
Manuel Nieto, his senior aide-de-camp to Baguio (p.182). Later,
he recalled that his valet brought him a request from "a woman reporter
from the Philippines Herald" for a statement, to which he replied with a
handwritten note: "The zero hour has arrived. I expect every Filipino
-- man and woman -- to do his duty..." So history is amended.
HYSTERIA?
Two roads go from Baguio to the field. I took the Kennon Road instead of
the route through Camp John Hay. En route, we looked across the head of
the Bued valley to see planes flying toward Camp John Hay. A few minutes
later we saw smoke from what we thought were grass fires at the post. We
were so intent on listening to the news from Manila on the car radio
that we heard nothing else. We waited and waited. Although a plane
circled the field, Vargas never arrived. A mining engineer returning to
work from Baguio told us the post had been bombed but we dismissed his
news as hysteria.
SMASHED:
Not until we returned to Baguio past the entrance to the military
reservation and saw smashed houses across the street did we realize that
the aircraft, including the one scouting Loakan, were the enemy's.
Finding no planes on the field, the last raider had deposited its
payload on the edge of the military reservation. Not only did the bombs
hit civilian houses but they killed or severely injued four
Spanish-American War veterans en route from Baguio in a car to meet
Horan at his request. The Herolds, who lived nearby, had a narrow
escape. So had we.
Two houses had been destroyed. No one was
nearby. The ruins were still smoking. We poked around and suddenly came
upon the head of an elderly Filipino man, with a bloody, partly burned
cadaver nearby. I recognized it as the father-in-law of Casiano Rivera.
A LETTER TO THE MISSUS:
In shock, we drove into the post through its
golf course. The fairways near headquarters were pockmarked with holes
and small craters. Later that day soldiers counted seventy-two
250-kilogram (550-pound) bombs had been dropped on Camp John Hay, in a
pattern that was just a few meters off target. Many hit rain-softened
earth and failed to explode, but others were all too effective. (Long
afterward I learned from a US Army monograph that the planes had been
twin-engined low-wing monoplanes of the 5th Air Group's 14th Air
Regiment, based at Kato in southern Taiwan. Because of their limited
range, Army planes initially operated only as far south as the Lingayen
Gulf. The planes (which the Allies came to call Sally 2s) each carried a
maximum load of four bombs at a speed of 450 kilometers (280 miles) per
hour. We came upon Horan standing in front of his headquarters, dazedly
pointing to his shrapnel-riddled car. Only the day before he had written
to his wife in the States (in a letter that wasn't delivered until
1945):
"Things look bad. But I still believe tht the Japanese will not attack
the Philippines. They might attack Siam, Borneo, Burma, the Dutch East
Indies, Singapore or Australia. But not here."
STIMSON'S WARNING:
The raid had been intended to kill American
officers from Clark Field, who usually took long weekend leaves at the
Officers' Mess. In recent months as many as 50 or 60 pilot and the same
number of officers from adjacent Fort Stotsenburg had come up on leave,
but after Secretary of War Henry L. Stimson's November 27 warning that
"hostile action" by Japan was "possible at any moment,"
most had been restricted to base. None of the three guests at the Mess
was wounded.
The staff was not so lucky. The left side of
Sergeant Bland was spattered over the walls of the lobby. One of the
Hong Kong refugee wives, seemingly calm, was trying to wipe what she
believed was bucked of red paint from his face, not realizing that he
was beyond help. Taytay, a 16-year old desk clerk, lay in a pool of
blood while a tourniquet wa applied to his severed leg. The other clerk
and the Mess Officer, Lt. Paul L. Bach, also had caught shrapnel. Sue
Dudley, a Navy officer's wife who had managed to stay on after other
Navy officers' dependents were evacuated to the States, already had been
taken to Notre Dame Hospital, a leg hanging by a hred after being hit by
a bomb fragment as she protected her baby with her body.
A MODEL-T FLIES HOME:
On Scout Hill, Captain Gitter, commander of
a company of Igorot Scout soldiers, was standing shell-shocked but
unhurt by the bomb that had killed five of his men, to whom he had been
talking. Three members of the band had their legs blown off by another
bomb. Althogether, 11 were killed and 22 injured on the post in the
third Japanese air attack on American-controlled territory of the new
war. The second had been against ships in Davao harbor. As we stood on
the edge of the valley beyond the Officers' Mess stretching to the
Cordillera Central, Yay turned to me and exclaimed bitterly: "Now we
know what a Model T Ford looks like when it flies back [to America]!"
DON'T YOU KNOW THERE'S A WAR ON?
I didn't get the full story of the
Baguio events until hours later. As 18 planes came over BAguio from the
northwest in three V formations, the reaction of its people was pride in
how quickly the American Air Corps had mounted a counterattack. It was
the Feast of the Immaculate Conception and crowds were entereing
and leaving the Catholic Cathedral above the business district. Natalie
and Jerry Crouter, driving down Session Road to the Market after leaving
their two children at Brent School as usual, found "everyone was
strolling casualy, lookng into shop windows, going in and out of
stores." They "could see that no one knew what had happened.
Japanese shopkeepers stood unconcerned in doorways."
BRENT SCHOOL: Just to the east, Brent students attending the
daily 8 a.m. chapel services were waiting for the schools headmaster,
Father Richardson, to conclude the prayers when they heard motors in the
distance. Bill Herold, the altar boy that morning, couldn't wait to tear
off his cassock to run outside to watch and cheer the planes. Eventually
Richardson closed the school to all but boarders, sending day students
home as their buses arrived from the mines. Bill and his sister Betsy
walked home to find their parents frantic with worry but thankful their
house near the Camp 'John] Hay entrance had not been hit. Elmer sent
Ethel and the kids to the Heald Company sawmill 62 kilometers (38.5
miles) up the Mountain Trail to stay with the mill manager Herman and
his wife Kluge.
After Mother had told her by phone that war
had begun, Betty drove her friend Mary Kneebone 2,000 feet (610 meters)
up the narrow twisting road out of the canyon from Atok-Big Wedge Mine,
where their husbands were employed, to Baguio to buy groceries. When
they stopped to chat with my Mother to tell her about the babble of
rumors they had heard downtown, she cut them off with a stern rebuke.
"What are you doing up here? Mary, why
aren't you at home looking afer Kim (her child)? Don't you know there's
a war on? You passed righ by those houses at the entrance to Camp [John]
Hay that were bombed this morning. Those weren't our planes -- they were
Japs. People were killed! Rivera's father-in-aw had his head cut off.
Jim saw it himself. Get right back where you belong!"
Shaken, the two young women drove back to
the mine. Not until then did they learn that the bombs aimed at the
nearby Army post included some that had fallen near their houses but
failed to explode.
THE AWFUL TRUTH
Despite the explosives raining around him, Tech. Sgt. William E. Bowen,
the John Hay radio operator, tuck to his post and while the raid was
still inprogress sent a mesasge to headquarters in Manila reporting the
situation. Disbelieved, he was ordered to repeat it. The information did
not reach the air warning center at Nichols Field near Manila until more
than an hour later.
STRAWBERRIES OF BENGUET:
Much to the relief of my parents, I returned for lunch after a full
morning. Still not fuly comprehending the horrors I had witnessed, I
managed to eat a good meal with some of Benguet's famous strawberries
for dessert. Even later tht afternoon when Frank Morehouse, the General
Superintendent of Atok-Big Wedge, provided an eyewitness account of the
devastation of Clark Field by the Japanese, no one (including me) wanted
to believe that virtualy nothing was leff of the American war units.
Morehouse hd been driving back form Manila when his car was commandeered
at the entrance to the installation just before the raid began. He spent
several terrified hours cowering under his vehicle and got home shaking
with fear. His listeners, incuding the Halsemas, had heard optimistic
reports on their radios and wanted to assume he was exaggerating the
havoc. Morehoue had witnessed the awful truth. He ordered wives and
children of his staff to evacuate to the Km. 62 sawmill to join Ethel
Herold and her children. After several days they all drifted back home.
INTERNMENT OF JAPANESE:
Partially recovering from his shock, Horan angrily ordered the
internment by the Philippine Contabulary of some of the adult male
Japanese population of Baguio City and nearby Itogon, Tuba and La
Trinidad. Over a thousand Japanese citizens made it the largest alien
group in the Baguio area, and the third largest in the country. Although
Japanese dependents were allowed to concentrate at the Japanese School
on Trinidad Road (now Magsaysay Avenue), harsh treatment by Philippine
Constabulary guards and confinement in a bomb-damaged barracks in a
military zone likely to be hit again infuriated the male internees. At
first Horan allowed them to place a large Rising Sun flag on a barracks
roof, then thought better of the idea. This reversal would soon have
painful repercussions for the American community. European enemy aliens
were told to report but were not immediately imprisoned. Dad and I were
implored by our next door neighbor Paul Kowalski to intervene on behalf
of male German and Austrian Jews. Only after much argument was Dad,
normally in command in any situation in Baguio after his years as its
leader, able to convicne the Constabulary that Jews were victims of the
Nazis rather than true enemy nationals. Kowalski and his buxom blonde
100% "Aryan" wife Emmi would repay the favor by saving o much of the
contents of our home.
INTO THE TUNNEL:
Spurred to action by the Japanese attack, Baguio was feverish with
long-delayed protective activity. Before he departed for his farm in
Pampanga in the late afternoon of December 8, Quezon had taken refuse in
Baguio's only air-raid shelter, built by the precient Major Speth near
his home. Now others were begun all over town. At Dad's suggestion,
Horan turned to Benguet and Balatoc mines for assistance in digging a
230 ft. (70 meter) U-shaped tunnel with two exits and a ventilation
shaft into the hil behind his headquarters. Within days their skilled
workmen and equipment had it ready for offices and communications
equipment, then built another shelter in the hill behind Notre Dame
Hospital which one day would save Mother's life. -- 11 April 2002, James
J. Halsema.
As with all
recollections, there is definitely a point of view in Halsema, and
careful readers will note how both Filipinos and Americans come in for
both praise and criticism. But this only one man's account, and opinion
of those awesome events so long ago. That it is written with candor and
a journalist's eye for detail and human drama, makes it valuable in its
own right.
62 MILLION HUMAN LIVES PERISHED IN WORLD WAR II. For most Filipinos
and Americans, their participation in the War on Fascism began on this
day, sixty four years ago.
UPDATE (1900 Dec. 8)
There's a nice round up of other Pearl Harbor
commemorative articles around the blogosphere at Pajamas Media:
Remembering Pearl Harbor
|