Evening star., 1943-06-17
CHAPTER XVIII

beeIIlcu 10 III III DeSC was rugged.
Corregidor was indeed q mighty
fortress. Doubtless it would have
been impregnable-if the airplane
had never been invented.
But airplanes had been invent
ed, and during January they were
over Corregidor for two or three
hours almost every day. There was
something hideously obscene about
those tiny silver planes buzzing
around high up against the blue
cloudless sky. They were so small,
at above 10000 feet, that they looked
as if you could put them in match
box.
In the intervals when the noise
Of the last load Of bombs had died
away, and the planes were out of
range of theantiaircraft and cir
cling for their next run, you could
hear the motors plainly. The noise
of the motors was deadly and Vicious.
You thought of being tied down to
Shiny tree roots in a muddy jungle,
and having a rattlesnake weave his
ugly head two inches from your
throat, waiting and picking his place
to strike. You thought of all the
evil Nightmares you had ever had.
Everybody knew when the planes
were coming.
First, about 7::30 in the morning.
when the sun was hidden behind
the clouds over the mountains in
back of Manila, would come the OBJ
servation plane. 1t was either pho
tograph Joe" in his high-wing
monoplane, or the twin-engined,
twin-tailed Lockheed monoplane
that used to fly right over the is
land. Joe would circle over the
channel between Corregidor and
Bataan and the 80 and so caliber
machine guns would shoot golden
tracerS all around him. The g.
inch guns had orders not to open
up because Joe had camera and
would photograph their flashes and
get their location.
Joe would circle deliberately and
then he would release a silver bal
loon and watch the wind carry it
up in the sky. That was to test
the wind currents. 1t filled us with
bitter anger to see the deliberate
way he got the stage set for the
daily murder.
Joe would putt-putt away, fly
ing straight over the middle of Ba-
taan and up to Clark Field, only 80
miles away.
Then Capt. Suzuki would call his
pilots together out on Clark Field
while mechanics loaded the bombs
In the silver-winged planes and
checked the motors. Suzuki woulc,
show the pilots the photographs Joe
had taken and give them the wealth
er data and point out their objec-
tives.
At about 1870 the planes would
take off and start circling to gain
altitude because they had only a
short distance to cover and a long
way to climb. Fine weather, Good
hunting" Suzuki-san would tell his
pilots.
Then the siren would sound on
on in Malinta tunnel and the crews
would run to their posts on the s.
inch aircraft guns and the So
caliber machine guns, and every
body else would get under cover.
Then the planes would come over,
n of them or maybe 54 They
would criSscross Corregidor without
dropping, taking their time, deliber-
ately getting their targets lined up.
The antiaircraft would open up and
burst in them and around them, but
If one was shot out they would
reform in their V formation and
keep coming.
Having picked their targets out
they would come back flying straight
in from over the channels, some
times from the north and sometimes
from the south.
Then would come the noise of the
bombs falling. The bombs didn't
screech or whistle or whine They
sounded like pile of planks being
whirled around in the air by a ter
rifle wind and driven straight down
to the ground. The bombs took
30 years to hit. While they were
falling they changed the dimensions
of the world. The noise stripped
the eagles from the colonel's shoul-
ders and left him little boy, naked
and afraid. 1t drove all the intel
ligence from the nurses eyes and
left them vacant and staring. 1t
wrapped a steel tourniquet of fear
around your head, until your skull
felt like bursting. It made you
realize why man found he needed
God.
The roar of the explosions was a
relief from the noise of the falling
bombs. You felt the conclusion
driving against your ears and heard
the clatter of collapsing buildings
and saw the dust billowing high in
the air.
Then would come the fires, and the
heroism. Men and women dashing
out and picking up the wounded
while the bombs were still falling.
They would carry the dead and the
"Ou1lOCQ W lllC llOSpItdl
You would hear the cars long before
they reached the tunnel. The ur-
gency of their horns, blowing all
the way down the hill from Topside
and then up the slope from Bottom
side, told you they were bringing
dead and those about to die and
those who would be better off dead.
The M. Ps. would make the cars slow
down as they drove into the big
tunnel and they would stop at the
hospital tunnel and blood would be
dripping down from the cars or the
trucks. Then the stretcher bearers
would gently lift out the bloody
remnants of what had been an
American soldier or Filipino
worker a few minutes before. They
would lift out the handsome captain
whose legs were bloody stumps.
They would lift out carefully the
18-year-old American boy who would
never again remember his name,
or his mothers name, or anything
else, but would just look at you
blanklv when Won smoke to him