Escape From Davao (39 page)

pesos on meatpacking paper. There was even a guerril a newspaper,
The Freeman
, published by a Filipino who had majored in journalism at the University of Oregon.

The woeful shortage of trained officers and leaders was a bigger problem. The nascent movement, barely a half-year old in May 1943, was run by a handful of Americans, about forty officers and men like McClish who had refused to surrender, as wel as others lucky enough to slip away from the POW

enclosures at Dansalan and Malaybalay before being shipped to Dapecol. But there were other, unlikely leaders who stepped forward.

The guerril a army was an outfit of irregulars, in terms of composition, background, and individual personalities. The dramatis personae of the guerril a epic would eventual y include representatives from every branch of the U.S. armed forces, the Signal Corps, quartermaster units, and the remnants of long surrendered, dissolved outfits such as the 19th Bombardment Group and the 440th Ordnance. Some were Lt. Cmdr. John D. Bulkeley’s PT-boaters left behind after MacArthur’s flight. Others had previous service in the Philippine Constabulary. There were mestizos whose fathers, some of whom were African-American, had served during the Spanish-American War or the Philippine Insurrection. There were British, Swedish, Syrian, and Indian citizens, too. There was even a German who had been working as a mechanical engineer at the Mindanao Motherlode gold mine when war broke out. He had fought for his fatherland in World War I, but despised Hitler and threw in his lot with the guerril as.

There was also a large number of American and Filipino civilians, from stranded businessmen to missionary priests, who were actively involved in the guerril a movement. Many wealthy Filipinos provided financial and material backing. Others, extraordinary men like Vicente Zapanta, invested their entire lives in the cause. Reportedly a U.S. Navy veteran of World War I, Zapanta volunteered not only his services, but also the large, two-masted banca that he had used to make a nice profit in commercial trading. The ship would be christened the
Athena
, in honor of the goddess of war, and Zapanta promoted to admiral of the guerril a navy.

Hatred of the Japanese transcended even bitter, centuries-old religious quarrels. The relationship between the Moros, the Muslim inhabitants of western Mindanao, and Christian Filipinos had been at best tenuous, at worst bloody. Because the Japanese were equal-opportunity oppressors, Moro
datus
, or chiefs, decided to join forces with the Christian guerril as. It was an uneasy truce, one that would end with the war. Tribes such as the Manobos and Negrito pygmies were also brought into the guerril a fold.

Whether one was white, black, yel ow, or brown, Christian or Muslim, male or female, young or old, rich or poor, il iterate or educated, al were united in their efforts for a common cause: the defeat of the Japanese empire.

The guerril as had been able to put aside most of their differences. The bigger conflict was between Mindanao and Australia.

“As far as MacArthur’s headquarters are concerned, our prime mission is intel igence—report on Japanese shipping, air traffic, troop movements,” said McClish.

To that end, once contact with Australia had been established, GHQ had begun to supply the guerril as via submarine. The first landing, McCoy and Shofner learned, had taken place just two months earlier.

Some weapons and ammunition had been delivered, but the supplies consisted mostly of cash, medicine, and the radio equipment, codebooks, and batteries needed to set up coast watcher stations. Also included were cigarettes, matchbooks, and other smal items imprinted with the words “I Shal Return,”

which were designed to further engender the cult of MacArthur in the Philippines. From chocolate bars to carbines, these items, though meager in sum, were a tantalizing taste of what came to be cal ed “The Aid,” symbolic, appetite-whetting samples of the fulfil ment of MacArthur’s promise of liberation. But in order to prevent the guerril as from initiating any major engagements and unwinnable battles, which might jeopardize the overal mission, GHQ would deliberately not supply enough firepower.

While the Filipinos seemed wil ing to work and wait patiently for “The Aid,” as wel as MacArthur’s return, they were not content simply to spy on the Japanese. They cared little about global strategy and even less for the mandates of officers in Australia or Washington. They supplied and sheltered the guerril as, and in return wanted tangible results—dead Japanese. This demand forced the men on the ground in the Philippines, men like McClish, to burn a smal candle on both ends.

“We’re an army of bamboo, rattan and courage, gentlemen,” summarized McClish.

Lastly, McClish admitted, somewhat hesitantly, these were not solely his problems. As just one of what would eventual y be eight subcommanders in charge of separate territorial jurisdictions on the island, he was in command of only the 110th Division, which was composed of the 110th, 113th, and 114th Regiments, units spread across the provinces of Misamis Oriental, Agusan, and Surigao. Overal command of the Tenth Military District, he told them, was held by a brigadier general named Wendel W.

Fertig, whose headquarters was in Misamis City in Misamis Occidental, 150 air miles from Medina in northwestern Mindanao.

“I have a radio transmitter in Gingoog, about fifteen miles from here,” said McClish. “It is in contact with Fertig’s headquarters, which relays our messages to Australia.”

McCoy and Shofner, stil dazed by McClish’s briefing, excitedly asked if a trip to Gingoog could be arranged.

“I’l take you there myself,” offered McClish. “It’s a horseback journey of course; the country’s too rough for anything else…. We’l go tomorrow. But first, the governor would like to have you as his guests for dinner.”

That evening, ex–Provincial Governor Don Gregorio Peleaz, a wealthy, white-haired gentleman of the landed aristocracy whose speech was affected with a Castilian lilt, entertained the two former prisoners of war like visiting dignitaries in his Spanish vil a. An eleven-piece orchestra played while they enjoyed a multi-course dinner with shiny silverware and white linen napkins. While puffing on their after-dinner cigars, McCoy and Shofner knew that the others would not believe the dream world they had discovered.

Laden with a requisition for food, a pair of rubber shoes, and thirty bars of soap, as wel as $100 with which to buy salt for his men and a box of face powder for Sergeant Baguilod’s girl (the cash was a gift on behalf of al the escapees), and, last but certainly not least, a message for Captain Laureta prepared by McClish, Tuvil a left at midnight aboard the
Athena
for Buenavista. On the orders of McClish, the guerril a flagship would ferry the rest of the Dapecol fugitives to Medina on its return trip. It looked to be a joyful reunion—if al went wel in Gingoog.

Just past noon on Thursday, May 6, McClish, McCoy, and Shofner were saddled atop three native ponies clipping down a colorful jungle corridor. His spirits brimming, Shofner thought it appropriate for another lecture on the proud history of the Marine Corps.

“Have you ever heard of the Horse Marines?” Shofner yel ed as they bounced along. “The cavalry unit that protected American citizens in China from 1912 to 1938? Don’t you know that the Marines have a great tradition in al forms of sport, as wel as al forms of warfare?”

Greeting them at the expansive Anakan Lumber Company, some five miles from Gingoog, was the mil ’s manager, a fifty-something American named Cecil Walter, who was trapped behind enemy lines.

Walter showed them to the powerful transmitter, which had been used before the war for business purposes, mainly communication with Manila.

For the first time since the fal of Corregidor, exactly one year to the day earlier, McCoy assumed a familiar position and sat down at the transmitter to dispatch two messages. “It was an exciting moment for us,” Shofner would write. If McCoy realized the significance of the day, he did not acknowledge it in his log. Nor did any hint of emotion appear in his copy. He fol owed procedure by identifying himself and reporting in to his superiors before communicating the facts.

FOR COMMANDER NAVAL FORCES SOUTHWEST PACIFIC

INFO COMMANDER MARINE FORCES

FROM LIEUTENANT COMMANDER MELVYN H. MCCOY

ARRIVED AFTER ESCAPE FROM AMERICAN PRISONER OF WAR CAMP DAVAO WITH

THREE MARINE OFFICERS CAPTAIN SHOFNER, THREE AIR CORPS, CAPTAIN DYESS,
ONE CAC [COAST ARTILLERY COMMAND], MAJOR MELLNIK AND TWO SERGEANTS

X ALL CAPTURED BATAAN AND CORREGIDOR HAVE EXTENSIVE INFO REGARDING

CORREGIDOR X BRUTALITIES AND ATROCITIES WITH EXTREMELY HEAVY DEATH

TOLL TO WAR PRISONERS DUE SAME X HAVE SOME INFO RE DAVAO PROVINCE X IF

PRACTICABLE REQUEST ENTIRE PARTY PLUS TWO FILIPINOS WHO AIDED ESCAPE

DEPART HERE VIA NEXT TRANSPORTATION AVAILABLE X

The second message, previously prepared by Mel nik, was sent to the attention of Lt. Gen. Richard Sutherland, MacArthur’s chief of staff. Given Mel nik’s relationships with members of MacArthur’s inner circle, this message was more personal, as wel as alarmingly detailed, in order to elicit a rapid response.

FOR

LIEUTENANT

GENERAL

RICHARD

K.

SUTHERLAND,

GENERAL

HEADQUARTERS

U.S. ARMY FORCES IN AUSTRALIA

FROM MAJOR STEPHEN M. MELLNIK

HAVE ESCAPED WITH SEVEN OFFICERS AND TWO ENLISTED MEN FROM JAPANESE

WAR PRISONERS CAMP IN DAVAO PENAL COLONY X LIEUTENANT COMMANDER

MCCOY US NAVY HAS REQUESTED SENIOR NAVAL OFFICER IN AUSTRALIA FOR

SUBMARINE TRANSPORTATION TO AUSTRALIA X WILL YOUR OFFICE ASSURE A
FAVORABLE ANSWER X JAPS VIOLATING ALL RULES OF WARFARE AND DECENCY

X FIFTY PERCENT USAFFE FORCES SURRENDERED IN BATAAN NOW DEAD FROM

MALNUTRITION AND DISEASES X REMAINDER IN VARIOUS STAGES OF BERI BERI,
DYSENTERY, MALARIA AND BLINDNESS DUE TO VITAMIN DEFICIENCY X

WAINWRIGHT, MOORE, BEEBE, DRAKE GOOD HEALTH AT SURRENDER X REGARDS

COLONEL DILLER, GENERALS MARQUAT AND WILLOUGHBY X HOPE TO SEE YOU

SOON X

Their mission completed, McClish, McCoy, and Shofner rumbled back to Medina along a rutted roadway in a battered, alcohol-fueled Chevrolet, estimated to be of 1931 vintage, that McClish had procured. Though in constant pain from blisters caused by his saddle, Shofner could not help but ponder the whereabouts of the other escapees in the closing sentence of his diary entry on the evening of May 7: “I wonder whats wrong with the rest of the gang—they should have been here by now—sickness—

Japs or they didn’t get the word[?].”

There was stil no sign of their comrades the next day, but McCoy and Shofner did meet McClish’s chief of staff, Maj. Clyde C. Childress. Childress, a twenty-five-year-old officer from Fort Worth, Texas, had fought in the il -fated action at Malabang and had headed into the hil s rather than surrender.

A fearless warrior and a straight shooter, Childress would be a trusted friend to the escapees. He tempered the enthusiasm of the two messengers, who believed they had just accomplished an essential part of their mission at Anakan. McCoy would write in his diary of a warning from Childress that, for reasons unknown, “communications with GHQ were slow and none too satisfactory.”

I find my way with weary stumbling feet

Between the broken fragments of defeat

“We have our honor; we were meant to fail”

I hear the words but still there is the trail.

SUNDAY, MAY 9–MONDAY, MAY 10, 1943

Medina, Misamis Oriental Province

It was 0520 when Mel nik reached under the mosquito net to shake McCoy awake. To McCoy, just returned from a guerril a dance, it seemed like a bad dream. Mel nik must have thought he was dreaming, too. He stood there, absorbing the lace curtains, the frame-shuttered windows and the fancy, four-poster bed from which McCoy was now stirring, his mouth agape.

“Stop gawking,” said McCoy. “Let’s clean you up and put you in some decent clothes.”

Haggard from two days of dodging shoals and shore-based smal arms fire, the escapees had not seen anything yet. Outfitted in new khaki and shoes—donations from Chinese merchants and McClish’s stores—the entire escape party celebrated the seventy-fourth birthday of Governor Peleaz with a lavish lunch. They were then whisked by sailboat to a fiesta celebrating the Queen of May in the vil age of Daan-Lungsod, about fifteen miles southeast of Medina. The fiesta, as much as Marshal could remember of it, was a wild affair. “Jeez, everybody got snookered to the gil s.”

After a succession of speeches from assembled dignitaries, the escaped POWs were summoned to the stage for the coronation of the May Queen and a standing ovation. But their celebrity was taking its tol . “We went to such events both because we were guests and because by so doing we helped maintain esprit de corps in the guerril a army,” said McCoy. “But we never forgot for an instant that our friends were stil rotting in Jap prison camps.”

There was something else bothering McCoy: he had had no confirmation of his messages from General Fertig’s headquarters. Perhaps there was more to Clyde Childress’s warning about communicating with Australia than they knew. A group conference determined that a face-to-face meeting with Fertig was in order. McCoy and Mel nik, as ranking officers, were selected for the task. The others offered their services, however temporary, to the guerril a army.