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.