Prior to moving to the port area, I was ordered to go to Regimental headquarters to pick up the mail for my company. When I got to Regiment, it seemed that everyone there knew that our outfit was going to Corregidor. So much for security. The only men who did not know where thy were going were the men who were going there.

On February 12, Lt. Cain told me to go to the port area find the LST that would transport the Battalion and act as loading officer. I WAS SCARED!!!! I didn't know a damn thing about boats and all I could picture was the boat I loaded getting to the middle of Subic Bay and capsizing, killing all the men on board. I reported to the skipper of the boat and told him I was the loading officer and that I knew nothing about boats. He had one of his men give me six pack of beer and suggested that I stay out of the way. WHICH I WAS ONLY TOO HAPPY TO DO!!!!

The Battalion boarded the ship on the 13th and we sailed on the 14th. The trip south to Mariveles was uneventful except that the men  my platoon complained because instead of a good breakfast (rumor had it the Navy always ate well) they were served beans. It appears that there is or was a Navy tradition, at,  least on that boat, that on Wednesday and Saturday beans were served for breakfast.

We arrived at Mariveles early on the 15th and left the ship via cargo nets and LCVPs. Mariveles, at the tip of Bataan was where the American and Filipino prisoners started on the Death March that resulted in the death of many of the POWs.

We dug in on the beach. That night Japanese speed boats that had mines attached attempted to sink the American ships that were in Subic Bay. As a result, we were kept awake most of the night by the sound of the Navy gun f ire, some of which flew over our heads, but we took no casualties.

At about 0600 on February 16, 1945, we entered the assault boats by platoons, one platoon to an LCVP. We left the dock at Mariveles by companies in the order that we were to hit the beach. "I" Company was in the second or third wave, as I recall. My boat joined the other three from my company, went a distance into Manila Bay and proceeded to circle while the other companies loaded up and joined us. The boats from each company formed its own circle and awaited the signal to start for the beach.

Corregidor is  a  small island, about 2 miles long and 1/2 mile wide; it is shaped like a tadpole with its head, which is also the high ground, facing toward the entrance to the Bay. Near the center of the island is a hill,  Malinta Hill, which contained a large tunnel often referred to as the hospital tunnel.

We were to hit the beach at 1000 hours. As we circled, the small Higgins Boats bobbed in the heavy swells,  giving the allusion that we were  riding some adult version of an out of control merry-go-round upon which none of us really wished to take a ride but because of circumstances beyond our control we were there. Men tended not to focus their eyes on anyone or anything, but each seemed to be locked in his own thoughts with his eyes looking inward.

At about. 0930, one of them men said, "Here they come^.. He was referring to a battalion of the 503d Parachute Regiment which was to jump onto the high ground and thus take the pressure off us as we landed at South Dock. On the left flank of the beach was the High Ground, on the right flank was Malinta Hill. Colonel Postlethwait, our Battalion Commander, told us at our briefing that we were not to stop for wounded. That unless we managed to get off the beach and take the high ground at Malinta Hill we would be sitting ducks on the beach.

We stared in awe as the troopers spilled out of their plans and fell a short distance before their chutes opened. That is the lucky ones had their  chutes open. Some of the chutes were streamers.

While this was taking place, the navy continued to rake the Island with fire from its heavy guns. Simultaneously, aircraft hit the island with rockets, bombs, and napalm. I observed an LST equipped with rockets turn parallel to the beach and fire a broadside from its rocket launches. A section of the beach at least the size of a football field turned black as the rockets exploded. The vessel reversed its course and repeated the devastating salvo.

At about this time, someone noticed that some of the paratroopers overshooting the drop zone and appearing to fall into the sea. That were problem was corrected when the transport planes began to drop seven rather than ten men on each pass.

On the western tip of the Island, there was a small spit of land on which the Japs had placed some sort of anti aircraft weapon. It was delivering heavy fire on the transport planes as they flew overhead. One of our destroyers slowly approached the spit of land and from a distance of 500 yards or so fired three rounds. When the smoke cleared there was no longer a gun,  nor a spit of land.

I felt my boat straighten out and begin its run for the beach. I gave the command to lock and load. As the boats approached the beach, they increased their speed. There was no sound other than the roar of the motor,  none spoke. The men crouched low,  fearful that we might take fire from the shore. I began to yawn and was unable to stop, no matter what I did. I was not tired. Far from it,  my adrenalin was surging but the yawning persisted.

I overheard one of the  men  say to another, "Look at the Lt., he's bored". I felt it better to leave him with his mistaken impression rather than tell him exactly how I felt at the time. (Years later in a psychology course, I learned that some individuals yawn when frightened - as I was never frightened, I must have been under some sort of stress.)

The sailor in charge of the boat yelled  "hold on" and the boat ground to a halt, the ramp dropped away and we ran like hell to get off the beach. A short distance from the water I found myself approaching a mess of live shells that were strewn all over the ground. I suspect a Jap ammo dump had been hit and the shells were thrown about. My choice was between running straight through the mess,  trying not to kick one of the shells or to try to run around them.  I chose to run straight through them, praying all the way.  I was lucky.

A few seconds, minutes (who knows, time moves slowly) later, I heard the sound of sharp explosions coming from my right. Without slowing down, I looked in that direction and found that the noise was caused by the explosion of 20MM rounds that appeared to be coming from the high ground on the left flank of the beach. The gun had the beach enfiladed. The rounds were exploding against the side of Malinta Hill. At that moment, had someone put a stopwatch on me, I suspect that I might have broken the four minute  mile,  wearing combat boots and carrying a full pack. I prayed harder. My luck held.

I hit the sand behind a slight rise, that may have been 150 yards or so from the water's edge. As I peered over the top of the slope, I noticed a platoon of Americans just going around the far end of Malinta Hill. I gathered two of my squads, one squad was missing. I told the squad leaders to disperse the men while Sgt. Farrel, my platoon Sgt., a messenger and I went to the top of the Hill to see what the situation was. It was a steep climb over rubble, but we took no fire and soon found ourselves at the top. We were on top of and just to the right, as you face it, of the entrance to the tunnel that ran back into Malinta Hill. We could see that the mouth of the tunnel was sand bagged and that it had a heavy iron gate partly across the entrance. We saw no sign of the enemy. I saw that the beach was under heavy small arms and mortar fire.

As I watched,  an assault boat plunged to a halt on the left flank of the beach. One man ran from the boat before it pulled back from the shore. ( Later in the 54th General Hospital in Hollandia, I was told the boat held the men from Bn. Hq. and that Colonel Postlethwait was the one who got off. The boat had taken heavy fire and had a number of men wounded.)

As I looked toward North Dock, I saw a ring of white smoke slowly rise from the ground. It reminded a of the smoke rings my grandfather would blow when he smoked cigars. When I looked toward the beach, I would see an explosion shortly after one of the smoke rings would appear. I assumed that a Jap mortar crew was responsible for the smoke rings and that they were probably being directed from someone on the high ground.

Overhead our planes, F4Us circled. Suddenly we saw a green smoke grenade let loose, as I recall it was green, regardless of the color it was the signal for air support. As we watched, one of the planes began to dive towards the smoke. I suggested to my companions that perhaps it was a good time for us to leave our position, rejoin the rest of the platoon and seek out Lt. Cain, the company commander. All concurred in my decision and we got the hell out of there as fast as we could.

When we arrived at the base of the Hill, a  runner was there who informed me that Lt. Cain had need of my platoon. By this time the missing squad had joined us.  We followed the runner to Cain's position. He was behind a hill towards the left flank, some distance from the beach. He told me that through his glasses he could see movement some distance up a road that led from our position to Topside. He said that it was not possible to determine whether the troops he saw were them or us because the paratroops wore sandy colored uniform,  not too unlike what the Japs wore. My orders were to take my platoon up that road and make contact with the 503d.. I was to be careful because the individuals I was to approach might be on our side, so I was not to shoot at them. I gave him my best Benning "Yes, Sir" but my intent was that if anybody shot at me, he was going to get shot back at.

At about the time I was ready to move out, Sam Snyder shouted that he had seen a Nip at the top of the hill. We looked, saw nothing, so I told the outfit to follow me. As I recall, I took about two steps, saw black smoke and felt something hit my left chest. It felt like I had been punched. When I came to, Sam Snyder had pulled me back behind the hill and was shouting for a medic. For sometime I was in  and out of consciousness. Each time I came to, Sam was shouting for a medic.  He had already put my field dressing on the wound and had tried to get me to swallow one of the wound tablets. ( If you want an experience, try swallowing one of those pills, big enough to choke a horse, while lying flat on your back with a hole in your chest, while drinking water from a canteen.) Sam came up with the school solution, he crushed the tablet and poured it into the wound.

 I heard Sam shout, "Where in the hell have you been?" as two medics approached. For a moment I feared that Sam and the medics might ignore me and get into a private war of their own. I was loaded on to a stretcher and those two guys carried me to the beach. If you think that it takes guts to be an infantryman, try running around a hot beach standing up, carrying a stretcher. If I could have gotten off and walked I would have.  I tipmy Combat Infantry Badge to anyone who served in combat with the field medics.

When I got to the aid station, a medical Captain looked at my chest and told me that I had a sucking wound. Fortunately that meant nothing to me. I remember that as I was lying there, the sun was terribly hot and bothered my uncovered chest and my eyes. As I was given plasma, the Doc told the man who was holding the bottle to stand in such a way that his body cast a shadow on my face. I don't know who had more guts,  the doctor for telling the medic to stand that way on a hot beach or the medic who carried out his order.

I came to again to find that I was once more on a stretcher. I was placed on the deck of an assault boat as more wounded were loaded on board. The boat was almost full when I heard explosions close to us. I heard one of the medics shout to the coxswain that the Japs were trying to hit us with mortar fire and that he should get us out of there. Apparently he did so, because the next thing I remember  was that I was on the deck of an AST. A doctor was moving from man to man. He would check the wound and then say something to other men who were with him. He examined me, said something and moved on as two men picked hp my stretcher and carried me to the tank deck. I later learned that the doctor was conducting triage. I floated in and out of consciousness for an unknown period of time. 

When awake I noticed a great amount of activity at the far end of the hold. Some time later, a medic approached and said that I was about to be moved. I had not had a great deal of pain. My main discomfort came from the fact that it was difficult to breathe.  My left lung had collapsed. Because I had not had a shot for pain since I was first hit, I asked the medic if I could have a shot before I was moved. It arrived almost immediately. I don't know what they gave me, but it was great. I just didn't give a damn. If the doctor had said they were going to out off my head and sew it back on,  I suspect that I would have told him to go at it.

They moved us top side and I saw heaven. A big white ship loaded with beautiful women all looking down at us. I was transferred to the white cloud, half expecting to be issued G.I. wings and a harp. Not so. The ship was for real. It was the Hospital Ship "Hope" and the beautiful women were army nurses who were going to Lingayen Gulf to join a hospital there. It turned out that many of the nurses had sailed from Frisco on the same ship, the General Howse, that had carried me and many of my buddies to Hollandia where they disembarked, while we went as replacements to the 4th Reple Depl. at Tacloban. A number of them came to visit me and to ask about many of the other men. But, I digress. I was carried below to clean sheets in a soft bunk. Soon a big, and I do mean big, and very pretty navy nurse came to my bunk, took one look and disappeared. She soon returned with a basin of hot water and a cloth and began to give me a bath. How she knew that I had not had a bath in a month I'll never know. The bath was followed by a bowl of strawberries with cream.  It might not have been real cream,  but after a diet of "C" and "K" rations it sure tasted like cream.

 Some of the other patients were not so fortunate as was I. Across the isle from me was a man           whose whole body appeared to be covered with gauze^.  I was told that he was Navy and had suffered severe burns over most of his body.

 Some time later, a day or so,   I was picked up by a corpsman and carried to x-ray. The medics wanted to know where the fragment had lodged in my body. Unfortunately, because the left chest cavity was filled with fluid, the x-ray revealed nothing. So a doctor soon appeared at my side with a slender piece of metal and said that he would probe in order to try to determine the direction the fragment had taken. He then proceeded to insert that mental object into the hole in my chest. I felt no pain, but there is something very unpleasant about watching a piece of metal disappear for a number of inches into your body. I suspect the problem was that because the wound was so close to my heart they couldn't quite figure out why I was still alive.

Regardless, my stay on the Hope, about a week or so because we went to Lingayen to drop off the nurses, was not at all unpleasant. I had to sleep sitting up to relieve the pressure on my heart but it beat sleeping where the rest of my outfit was. I was on a soft diet, baby food mounds of yellow ( carrots) and green (peas),  pureed stuff,  not too tasty but D bars weren't so hot either.

My only unpleasant experience on the Hope was when a nurse told me that the ship was unarmed but she felt that was all right because it was brightly lighted so the Saps would know it was a hospital ship and would not fire on it. I didn't bother to tell her that aid men removed the red crosses from their helmets because they made good targets. Except for that it was a somewhat pleasant cruise. The trouble started when I landed in a general hospital in Hollandia, New Guinea.

I was in the 54th General Hospital for a number of days when a Doctor, I capitalize Doctor because as I recall he was a Light Colonel and is due that respect, came and said that they would have to aspirate me because of the fluid in my lung.  What did I know, they never talked about aspirating anyone at Benning when we studied combat medics. So I said, "Go at it, Sir!" The next day I began to question my rash decision, I really had no say in the matter, when an orderly brought a tray to my bedside. The tray was covered, I wish it had stayed that way because when the Doctor came and took off the towel,  I saw the biggest hypodermic needle ever invented by man. I was even bigger than the needle with a hook that they told you about in basic training. The Doctor was a caring and feeling man, for a Light Colonel, he asked if I would prefer to have him stick that bayonet in the front of my chest or in the rear. My mother, Mrs. Nast, not having raised any heroes,  a nut maybe or I wouldn't have gone to Benning; I elected to have him approach me from the rear. It was not too bad for me because I didn't have to watch but the rest of the guys in the ward did. They soon learned to read a book or hobble to the head when they saw my tray coming. The first time it was done, it was done four times, the Doctor kept asking me how I was doing. I kept saying, "Fine, Sir, keep going," and so he did. Shortly after he finished, I began to have trouble breathing and began to spit up a white foam. A nurse saw this, picked up my hand, saw that the nails were turning blue and took off. She returned with a few other people and an oxygen tank and mask. And all was right with the world again. I appears that my heart had been pumping against the resistance of the fluid in the chest and when too much was takeen off at once, the heart began to race with the result that the blood could not pickup sufficient oxygen and so for a short time I was in DEEP TROUBLE.

Regardless, I spent four or five weeks at the 54th and was then transferred to a General Hospital in New York State. I did not return to limited duty until September of 1945. And was medically discharged in March of 1946.