Blood Brothers | Page 8

wounded were appearing at the hospital. Major Joe Ganahl, a
well known polo player, was one of these. He had been fighting a
rear-guard action with his big" 155s"-coming down from Vigan. He
said, "I'm going to have to destroy my 155s as they are trapped." When
we got his wounds dressed, he took off in his jeep down the road,
looking like the "Spirit of'76."
We were beginning to note that the Japanese .25 caliber was not
causing near the tissue damage caused by the U.S. .30, .38 and .45 cal.
Frequently, when using the telephone, we could hear Japanese voices
using our lines. We could usually get them off by saying, "Moshi,
moshi! (hello) and sayonara (good-bye)."
We transferred our few remaining patients to civilian hospitals in
Baguio and made preparations to move out.
As the Japanese Imperial Army advanced up the mountains toward
Baguio on both roads, the Naguillian Trail, and the Kennon Road, our
two companies of the 43rd Philippine Scouts, outnumbered ten to one,
were becoming more and more desperate. We could hear the big

explosions as they blew bridges and oil tanks.
Finally, we were aware of rifle fire-it sounded like corn popping.
Realizing that Camp Hay would soon be overrun by Japanese troops,
we prepared and loaded our equipment on hospital vehicles. We were
not anxious to be the first military
unit in the Philippines to surrender. We were well informed as to the
Japanese cruelty and treachery in China; we didn't want any part of it.

Chapter II
THE ORANGE PLAN (WPO III)
Dee. 23, 1941 (my wedding anniversary): Finally, orders arrived from
USAFFE Headquarters in Manila: "ORANGE PLAN III IS NOW IN
EFFECT! EVACUATE CAMP JOHN HAY! PROCEED TO JOIN
FIL-AMERICAN FORCES IN BATAAN! MACARTHUR".
The Japanese forces controlled both roads leading from Baguio to
Bataan. The only available exits from Baguio were over rugged
mountains, some a mile high. The nearest road leading to Bataan that
still might be open was through Balete Pass, fifty miles to the
southeast.
I worried about feeding my medical detachment (two Army nurses and
thirty enlisted personnel) following along behind the companies of the
43rd Infantry of Scouts. I told Col. Horan that I would like my
detachment to be the "point" that would lead the way through to Bataan.
To my surprise, he seemed pleased and agreed. I told him, "I'm ready to
move out!" He answered,
"OK!"
Our medics quickly mounted hospital transportation and drove down
the southeast road into the valley, past the entrance to the Antomoc

Gold Mine and on to the end of the pavement. As we abandoned our
vehicles, we disabled them so the Japanese would be unable to use
them. We then placed our first-aid materials and my little medical bag
on litters, and started up the trail at a rather rapid pace. In the hot sun
we soon became exhausted and realized we would have to go slower
and rest frequently.
About three hours up the trail, we came upon Associated Press
Correspondent Clark Lee trudging along. Resting with him on the path
for a few minutes, we swapped stories; he reported: "Lingayen city has
been bombed! Many Filipinos are fleeing south through the central
plains with all their belongings. I came up to Baguio yesterday; soldiers
had dynamite boxes ready to blow the bridges on the Naguillian Trail. I
saw Major Ganahl and asked him what happened to our North Luzon
Forces. Joe answered, 'Hell! We are the North Luzon Forces!"
We never saw Clark Lee again, but later learned that he found a
short-cut through St. Nicholas and Tayug to the central plain, where he
had a brush with the Japs on his way to Bataan. He proved an old
saying, "He travels fastest who travels alone!" He later wrote a very
interesting book about his experiences in the Philippines, "They Call It
Pacific."
Our two nurses were having difficulty keeping up with the troops on
the steep and often narrow trails. Our equipment was becoming too
heavy to carry; little by little, it fell by the wayside: litters, gas masks,
helmets, pup tents, tarps, blankets, mosquito nets, etc. As we moved up
the mountains, we noticed natives using mirrors to signal planes. We
didn't know whether they were trying to blind the pilots or wave them
away. Two more fatiguing hours and we reached the large Lusod Saw
Mill, operated' by the American Jorgensen family.
A soldier came running up the path; he shouted, "Col. Horan has had a
heart attack!" Back down the trail I went for about an hour, when I
found the colonel in agony beside the path. A quarter of morphine, a
swallow of whiskey and an hour's rest revived him enough to continue.
The Jorgensen family were gracious hosts;