Blood Brothers | Page 6

soap, toothpaste, razor,
towels, etc., and put fresh medicines in my little black doctor's bag
given to me by Dr. Eugene Stafford, who had retired in Baguio after a
distinguished career at the Mayo Clinic. I moved my furniture to his
house for safekeeping until after the war.
I had to go over to the Japanese barracks to inspect some two-hundred
internees (civilian prisoners). They had staked out a big Japanese flag
on the ground for planes to see, for their own protection.
One of the Japanese prisoners was brought to me with a severe sore
throat. Examination showed a peritonsillar abscess. The treatment
would be to lance the abscess and let the pus out. He was the first real
live Jap that I had ever met face-to-face. I attempted to explain his
condition to him. I proceeded to cut his throat with a surgical knife. He
had considerable pain for an instant, then considerable relief. I gave
him an analgesic and a sedative. He seemed grateful, shook my hand
and said, "Arigato vely much!" as he bowed deeply and departed for his

bed.
Some gold-mining engineers, friends of Col. Horan, built an "entrance
to a mine" some thirty feet back into a hillside in the center of camp for
an air-raid shelter. It proved to be very good, but we nearly broke a leg
each time we raced a bomb down the hill to the entrance.
That night our radio told us that the Japs had made landings
at Aparri, on the north coast of Luzon, and had actually landed two
thousand soldiers at Vigan on the northwest coast. It sounded like they
had landed without any resistance. These two cities were only two or
three marching days from Baguio. Was the Rainbow war plan not
working?
News was received that Hong Kong and Wake Island had been
captured. Also, that the British battleships, HMS Repulse and HMS
Prince of Wales, had been easily sunk off the Malayan coast by
Japanese planes.
We heard many unusual noises about camp, especially at night, and
saw strange lights that we thought might be signals. We became
suspicious of everything that moved in camp, especially any moving
troops, until we were sure that they were ours.
I couldn't sleep! As I lay in bed, I recalled how I'd been assigned to
Camp Hay from the Medical Regiment at Fort McKinley, near Manila.
Col. Wibb Cooper, the Philippine Dept. Surgeon, picked me out of
some one hundred medical officers because I had just enough time to
do on my tour in the Philippines, not too little, not too much medical
training and experience, just enough responsibility, personality,
sociability, etc. I was to be the only U.S. medical officer north of Fort
Stotsenberg one hundred miles to the southwest. I was to be the nearest
U.S. doctor to Japan.
Camp Hay met all my expectations: delightful wooded areas, friendly
people, a fine, well-equipped station hospital and a well-trained staff. I
was invited to the Rotary Club for dinner with the American operators

of the nearby gold mines and lumber companies in the valleys below.
They all seemed anxious to know the only U.S. doctor. Retired Major
Emil Speth, the mayor of Baguio, took me in tow and saw that I met
everyone who was important.
During three months prior to the war, General MacArthur, the
Commanding General of USAFFE, conducted a "War School' for his
general officers at Camp Hay. During the school period, I got to meet
and visit with most of the generals and their aides-either at the hospital
or the Officers' Mess. I was their "Medic!"
Several weeks prior to the war, some British officers' wives from Hong
Kong arrived in Baguio, a supposedly safe place to sit out the war. Our
student generals seemed to think the "lady limeys" had been sent over
for their dining and dancing pleasure
at the Pines Hotel. Camp Hay was almost a perfect setting almost too
good to be true except for one thing. In May, 1941, President Roosevelt
suddenly ended our honeymoon, sending all of the Army wives back to
the States.
It was two very unhappy people standing on Pier Seven in Manila,
wondering if they would ever see each other again, if the U.S.A.T.
Washington could outmaneuver the subs in the Pacific, and if our U.S.
Army could survive a frontal attack by the Japanese.
Roosevelt must have known the war was coming. In 1937 he branded
the Japanese as "aggressors" in their undeclared war in China and
called for quarantine against her. The Japanese answered him by
sinking the U.S.S. Panay and machine-gunning her crew.
In the late '30s, with the world situation becoming increasingly
dangerous, Germany and Italy both arming in Europe, and Japan
increasing its manpower, Roosevelt wanted to cut