by Hugh Ambrose
The next day, the birthday of the United States Marine Corps, would have also brought a laugh from Manila, if only to himself. As part of a radio tribute to his corps, John urged young women to join the marines.163 Since he was receiving a stream of letters from a certain Corporal Carolyn Orchovic of the USMC's Women's Reserve, who was wondering when he would return to D.C. so they could continue dating, he obviously had nothing against women in uniform.164 He went to headquarters in D.C. whenever ordered; otherwise he lived in Raritan.
Life in the home he had grown up in grew uncomfortable slowly. He liked people, and everywhere he went in Raritan, everybody knew Manila John. His friends and family knew he had a long furlough, assumed the Marine Corps would give him a cushy job eventually, and believed he was set for life. When asked about the public events, he would say, "I feel like a bull thrower."165 Everyone had a laugh at that. John did not elaborate. The truth was his future did not look clear to him. The brass liked having him available for public relations duties and had extended his furlough to make that easier. When officers did speak with him about future options, these included being an instructor at the marine base in New York City or going back to D.C. and serving in the guard company of the Navy Yard. Both of these options represented more public appearances, more time in dress uniforms, more time spent behind a desk or in a room with officers and less time outside with the infantry. He began going for long walks late at night. The physical activity settled him down, allowed him to think. He also kept a bottle of scotch on his nightstand.166 His close friends and his family had seen these signs before--years earlier his long walks had preceded him quitting a job. John's growing discomfort, however, mystified friends and family. Manila John had it all. Their views perhaps persuaded him not to seek anyone's advice. He told his younger sister Mary, "I had to make up my own mind."167
In mid-November the mailman brought John a note from Dog Company. They had passed around his letter to them. "You didn't forget the boys," they affirmed, and used the phrase they heard in Melbourne, "Good on you, Yank." After teasing "the medal kid" about having "too many women," his friends tried to pass along a little news of their own: "all the liberty is finished & you can guess what that means."168 It was not much of a guess. Dog Company had gone back to the war.
IN SHOFNER'S DIARY OF HIS LIFE AS A GUERRILLA ON MINDANAO, MORE ENTRIES concerned fiestas than firefights. He and the officers above him wanted to move beyond scouting and spying. The Filipino people expected their guerrillas to attack the enemy. MacArthur's headquarters in Australia, however, made it clear that the guerrilla units were not to attack Japanese targets. The submarines sent to Mindanao held some small arms and some ammunition, but nothing larger and not in great numbers. Although Shofner and his immediate officers tended to blame Australia, their problems went beyond equipment to organizing and training. The leaders of the various bands of guerrillas often squabbled with one another about methods, goals, and the chain of command. Simply maintaining a regular schedule of radio reports to Australia often proved difficult. In recognition of this, Shofner spent part of his time engaged in propaganda aimed at maintaining the loyalty of the Filipinos. He thrived in the make- it-up-as-you-go-along world of a guerrilla. His job involved politics, economics, and religion. It also had its advantages. "Everything fouled so bad," Shofner wrote one Friday, he had "decided to take a day off and start fresh Monday."
His life as a guerrilla leader came to an end when the USMC HQ in Australia ordered Colonel Wendell Fertig to return him, Mike Dobervich, and Jack Hawkins. The other four remaining escapees would also return, separately. Shifty's job as deputy chief of operations ended on November 1. He began awaiting his submarine home in the village of Rizal, where he had spent much of his time. Thirteen days passed before he heard definite news. Another two passed before "D-day," when everything went wrong.
The truck that ran on alcohol ran out of alcohol. The bike had a flat. Shifty walked most of the way to the rendezvous site until he found a bicycle to "commandeer." At the harbor he found Jack Hawkins, Mike Dobervich, and a few Filipino guerrillas awaiting transport. Colonel Fertig also arrived, late. His horse had run away. Scouts had been placed on the roads for miles around them. They felt safe from the Japanese. The anticipation must have been nearly overwhelming. Dobervich sent up the all clear signal for the sub too early and incurred the wrath of his friends until USS Narwhal surfaced at five twenty-five p.m. Shofner lost a bet to Fertig on the time and handed over one Philippine peso.
Unloading the sub took over four hours at top speed. A large number of guerrillas handled the boxes of medicine, ammunition, and the "I Shall Return" match-books Shifty despised. The escapees said good-bye to Colonel Fertig and good-bye to many Filipino friends who had risked their lives to protect them. As the Narwhal cast off from the dock, the band played "God Bless America." The next morning Shofner wrote in his diary that the submarine "went through Surigao straights into Pacific . . . all well."
Although he would have to learn to like the sub's soft bed, the familiar food and the hot coffee were most welcome. The ship's captain, Lieutenant Commander Parsons, hailed from Shelbyville, Shofner's hometown, and his mother's maiden name was Shofner. They had some catching up to do. The sub made its best speed while on the surface. Twice they spotted planes. The second time a pair of enemy planes approached within four miles, coming in low and fast right at them. The skipper bellowed orders and Narwhal's bow pointed down. She ended the dive to 150 feet with a sharp turn. No bombs were heard. The captain told them he was taking them to Port Darwin and, barring any more disturbances, they would arrive on November 22; from there, a plane would take them to MacArthur's headquarters in Brisbane. Shofner borrowed a book about the marines on Guadalcanal to keep himself entertained. w When Narwhal crossed the equator, Shofner and his friends were delighted to learn they had become "shellbacks."
SLEDGE'S HAPPINESS DISAPPEARED IN AN INSTANT. JUST BEFORE THANKSGIVING, he received a letter from his parents. They had received a letter from the V-12 program at Georgia Tech advising them that their son had flunked out and been transferred. His parents accused him of lying to them. He felt terrible, but there was no going back. He launched a campaign to convince them he had neither lied nor flunked out. The explanations grew lengthy. The letter they had received from the V-12 program was explained away by relating the story of one of his friends in boot camp. This "boy," Eugene claimed, had passed his courses in Atlanta, but had requested a transfer. This boy's parents had received a letter stating their son had flunked out. While the unnamed boy was obviously "crazy," and Sledge himself had "wanted to become an officer," this story proved that "no matter why anyone left, his parents received the same letter."
Although they continued to correspond about other matters, and the packages of goodies continued to arrive, Dr. and Mrs. Sledge remained unconvinced. Their youngest son pushed harder. "I might not be a credit to the Sledge name," he said, "but I've never lied to you or pop. And I didn't lie about my leaving Tech. If I had failed, I promise you I would admit it. . . ." Gene increased the pressure. "I guess you know, I've got a lot of danger to face before I come home again. I'll face it like a Sledge should, and I won't fail to hold up the name. But please believe me, for I've told you the absolute truth."
The ordeal of boot camp, meantime, had begun to change. Platoon 984 took its turn at the rifle range in late November. Their day still began with the DI waking them up at five a.m. Every last man in Sledge's hut, all nineteen of them, immediately lit a cigarette and began coughing. Sledge thought they were crazy. Smoking's ill effects were readily apparent. After chow, the DI turned them over to the instructors on the rifle range. These marines were concerned with teaching the boots to shoot straight. Eugene, whose passion for firearms went back to his earliest days, ate it up. When asked about the largest caliber he had fired to date, Sledge proudly described his .54-caliber muzzle loader. Absorbing every detail of the instruction, he set his sights on earning the highest rank, Expert,
when his platoon fired for record. Scoring that high would help him earn the right to go to Sea School, his first choice of duty assignments.
The training with the M1 rifle brought back a flood of happy memories of hunting with his father. He wanted to tell his father about his training so he would "understand why Marines are the best riflemen in the world." In the evening, as he listened to the others in his hut talk about their parents, he realized how lucky he and his brother Edward had been. Eugene wrote to tell them about an argument his hut mates and he had had about where they would like to go on their first liberty. "You can bet I said I'd go home & stay there as much as possible. We have the most beautiful home & finest & happiest family I ever knew of. We really have a lot to be thankful for and I really am." He spoke of going to college upon his return. However, Eugene never let go of his demand that his parents accept his explanation about his departure from the V-12 program. Dropping the subject was not good enough.
AN ESCORT SHIP LED THEIR SUBMARINE THROUGH THE MINEFIELD AND INTO Port Darwin. A lieutenant colonel in the USMC met Shofner, Hawkins, and Dobervich onshore and brought them to an unmarked house. As he doled out Red Cross packages, the colonel told them they were flying to a hospital in Brisbane the following day. He also ordered them not to divulge any information about themselves to anyone. From what Shofner could see, the armed forces in Darwin enjoyed such a level of comfort "I do not believe these people are doing any fighting." The hospital in Brisbane turned out to be very impressive. On November 24, Shifty slept late, took his first hot shower and shave in two years, and had ice cream for lunch. The doctors began to run tests. His duties included getting new uniforms and a haircut; having his teeth cleaned; and writing a report about the Japanese prisoner-of-war camps. He also played poker against all comers in his ward. He lost $17 on a run of terrible cards.
At the end of the month, the hospital discharged him, Hawkins, and Dobervich. They received orders to return to the United States and were given a class-three priority for seats on naval air transport planes. A few days later Shofner delivered a series of reports to Brigadier General C. A. Willoughby, the intelligence officer, or G-2, of the General Headquarters for the South West Pacific Areas. Based on the entries of his daily diary, he had written a record of events in the POW camps from May 6, 1942, to April 4, 1943; an account of their escape; and a document entitled "Service with Guerrilla Forces in the 10th Military District, Philippine Islands: May 11 to November 15, 1943." 169
As the senior officer of his contingent of the escapees, Captain Shofner would have considered it his duty to prepare a report. All of the ten men shared the intense desire to let the world know the atrocity being committed, and a military report written in a timely fashion formed a foundation for publicity. Publicity in Shofner's mind would produce legal redress and spur military action against Japan. As the only one to have kept a diary, Shofner could write with a level of specificity others could not match. The final part to his report, "Recommendations for the Philippine Islands," demonstrated his strength of purpose and high level of energy.
Shofner's three-page memorandum detailed the means by which the United States could strengthen the guerrilla forces and use them to prepare the way for the U.S. invasion. This included sending a large cadre of officers to take command of the guerrilla forces at all levels. He recommended that a general be put in command. His note that the rank of general might be "temporary if necessary," combined with his insistence on the necessity of "experience," suggested that he had someone in mind for the job. His own experience had taught him "the Filipino soldiers are good fighters under American officers." However, "the average Filipino must be treated as a child." Americans also needed to understand "extreme patience as the ways of the East are mysterious." The equipment needed for this mission was spelled out in a long, prioritized list. "Bullets are the best propaganda," he insisted. Much of the list was devoted to sabotage equipment, ammunition and guns, although he itemized the medicines, clothing, and various types of communications equipment, including mimeograph machines. A final page covered the long list of incidentals like raincoats, buttons, and flashlights.
While his memo focused on protecting the Filipino's faith in America and creating a force capable of isolating the enemy, Shofner included the plight of the POWs in his plan of action as well. Vitamin tablets should be sent to the camps "immediately," because some of it would make it to the prisoners and their needs were "urgent." It had to be done before Japan moved all of the POWs to camps on the island of Formosa, well inside the empire. This threat had been heard many times in Cabanatuan. One outcome of his plans for the guerrillas on Mindanao, a reader would have inferred, would be to move beyond the relief of the POWs to their rescue.
Before departing, the three marines were driven to the office of the commander of the South West Pacific Areas, General Douglas MacArthur. The general had already heard of the plight of the POWs from Commander McCoy and his friends. The marines affirmed the truth of McCoy's story. Shofner disclosed that he had kept a list of all the POWs he felt had betrayed their oaths to their country. MacArthur gave a vague reply about ensuring returning POWs received proper acknowledgment for their service. The discussion, however, turned away from the war. MacArthur's wife, Jean Faircloth MacArthur, was a distant relative of the Shofner clan. Next came the unexpected. The general decorated him, Hawkins, and Dobervich with the Distinguished Service Cross. As he pinned the U.S. Army's highest award for bravery on Shofner, the general said, "Never during my long and illustrious career have I presented a more deserved" award. The citation, dated that day, December 6, had been awarded not to the captain who had been captured on Corregidor, nor to the lieutenant colonel of the guerrillas, but to Major Austin Shofner of the USMC. He had received an official promotion. Major Austin Shofner's citation, "for extraordinary heroism in actions in the Philippine Islands," described his escape from the camp, his volunteer service as a guerrilla, and praised his delivery "of information of great military value on the defense of Corregidor and the treatment of our prisoners of war in Japanese hands."
After Shofner, Hawkins, and Dobervich left the general's presence, the new major vented his disgust. MacArthur had dared speak of his "illustrious career" to men who had endured the results of his failure.170 Being Shifty, he later poked fun at the general's carefully cultivated aura of power, quipping that during the meeting he had felt like MacArthur was "God and I was the right hand angel. It took me 48 hours before I could have a dirty thought." The PBY bearing the three heroes departed Brisbane on December 9, making stops at Noumea, Efate, and elsewhere along the chain before landing in Hawaii on December 14.
MANILA JOHN REPORTED TO THE NAVY'S WAR BOND OFFICE IN MANHATTAN ON December 6 to prepare for the Pearl Harbor Day bond drive. On the anniversary of the attack, he traveled upstate to a bond rally in the town of New Windsor. With each bond sold, he autographed a special preprinted flyer, dedicated to the person who bought it. The front side of the flyer explained why it was important to buy bonds and thanked the donor. The reverse quoted from the citation for John's medal. It also described how he "had a machine gun on the go for three days and three nights without sleep, rest or food"; and how he had "killed 38 japs near his hole with a pistol."171 At least the flyer to which he signed his name correctly identified him as "the only living enlisted Marine wearing the coveted Congressional Medal of Honor." After a cold day riding in a jeep and thanking bond buyers, he returned to the city to attend another big gala thrown by the National Association of Manufacturers (NAM) at the Waldorf-Astoria, one of the great hotels of New York.
As befitted one of the nation's most powerful industry associations, the NAM held a very fancy affair for the four thousand members attending its "second War Congress." The remarks by its speakers were recorded for an international radio broadcast. The chairman of General Motors informed his audience that GM was ready to invest $500 million into "postwar America."172 Lieutenant General A. A. Vandegrift, identified as the Commandant o
f the Marine Corps although his tenure would not begin until the new year, said that victory over Japan would "demand the best kind of teamwork."173 John sat on the dais next to another sergeant, William Downs, who had lost a leg in the air war over Stuttgart, Germany. Both men gave short speeches as a part of thanking their hosts.174
In order to make Manila John available to attend the NAM event, the USMC had extended his leave again, to December 26. So he returned home to Raritan for another twenty days of furlough. One of the letters that arrived during that period came from his friend Richard Greer.175 Greer started by giving him the Dog Company news--who was now sergeant of which platoon, who had gotten busted in rank, who "broke his hand on somebody's jaw." Their pet, Jockstrap, was still with Dog Company. J. P. Morgan sent his regards but would not write. The boys were near the ocean and were once again bathing in a river. They saw lots of "fuzzy wuzzies," or natives, mostly males but sometimes females. "The young are black, bushy headed with those pointed breast and the old gals are baggy and their breast hang down to their waist."
Even out in the boonies, Greer said they had read a news report stating John would soon marry Helen Helstowski, Steve's sister. Along with demanding to know "the dope," Greer teased him. Like all good jokes, there was some truth and some lies mixed together. "We thaught you had a wife and kids in Minila to take care of let alone one in the states. Ever hear from Nora? Or the gook gal you ran up a coconut tree about eighteen months ago? I believe Morgan dragged you out of the church in Georgia once time. Boy you've had some close calls but this time its news and you're _____." Greer closed the letter by saying that they all wanted to hear from him. Having written letters for John, Greer knew his friend all too well, so he ordered Manila to "get somebody to do it if you won't."