Mike Guardia

by American Guerrilla

  When the “Tiger of Malaya” finally came out of the mountains, he made his surrender overtures not to MacArthur, but to Volckmann. Over the previous year, Yamashita had developed a begrudging respect for the USAFIP-NL. He knew Volckmann by name and had issued one of the largest bounties in the Philippines on his head. Now, after his failed attempts to crush the resistance movement and defend Luzon from the Allied advance, Tomiyuki Yamashita ordered his troops to lay down their arms.*

  Over a period of three years, 1942–45, and commanding a guerrilla force of over 22,000 men, Volckmann’s guerrillas killed over 50,000 enemy troops. USAFIP-NL accomplished these figures while losing less than 2,000 of their own. 343 For his efforts, Volckmann earned the Distinguished Service Cross, the nation’s second highest military honor. 344

  *Yamashita was later tried and hanged for war crimes, as were many of his subordinate commanders.

  CHAPTER 10

  After the Fire: 1946–1948

  For Russell W. Volckmann, the first two years following the Japanese surrender were nearly as chaotic as the war itself. Since 8 December 1941, he had been in a relentless struggle to survive. Harrowing escapes, debilitating sickness, and the ever-present fear of the unknown had been his daily lot. Yet, Volckmann had emerged victorious: the commander of among the greatest irregular armies of all time. Quietly, however, he was a tired soldier, eager to make his way back home. By September 1945, it had been some four and a half years since he had seen his family. 345

  Meanwhile, Nancy Volckmann and her young son, Russell Jr., had spent the last four years hoping that he was still alive. The pair had been evacuated five months before the invasion and knew nothing of what the next four years might hold. Upon their departure from the Philippines, Nancy and Russell Jr. settled in Arlington, Virginia, where she took a clerical job with American Airlines. While raising her young son, Nancy kept in contact with Volckmann’s parents for any news regarding her husband. 346 The last she had heard of Volckmann was a telegram delivered to his father, William, indicating that his son was “Missing in Action.” Throughout his time in North Luzon, the War Department had no idea whatsoever that Volckmann commanded an army of guerrillas, for he officially remained “Missing in Action” and by 1945, was presumed dead. 347

  The first letter that Volckmann sent out after the Fall of Bataan was dated 20 October 1944, and did not arrive at his parents’ house until three months later. 348 Although it is not certain, he may have used his contact with the SWPA submarines to post his letter from Australia. On 15 January 1945, the Clinton Herald—Volckmann’s hometown newspaper—reported the first news of Volckmann’s status, indicating that he was alive and that his wife had received news of her husband’s whereabouts from an “undisclosed source.” Regardless, for security reasons, the War Department gave no comment on Volckmann’s letter and maintained that he was still officially considered “Missing in Action.” 349

  Before Volckmann could come home, however, there were several items that required his attention. Now that Yamashita had surrendered, Volckmann had to begin the long administrative process of delivering his records to the United States and chronicling his activities for the Army Adjutant. Then, there was the question of Yamashita himself. The “Tiger of Malaya” had seen the best of his forces diminished by an enemy that constantly lurked in the shadows. The more pressing issue on his mind, no doubt, was the punishment that he would have to face for the crimes he and his men had committed. Yamashita, the man who had boldly proclaimed that he would dictate the terms of peace to MacArthur, now faced a military tribunal. Among the crimes of rape, pillaging, and the cruel treatment of USAFFE prisoners, Tomiyuki Yamashita’s march to the gallows seemed all but certain. Since Volckmann was a material witness to the war crimes of the Japanese, he was subpoenaed to appear at the tribunal and give sworn statements of the atrocities that he had seen. 350 Perhaps more importantly, however, Volckmann was obligated to reconstruct the phases of his operations against the Japanese so that the Army could have a verifiable record of his actions and a safeguard against fraudulent claims of the enemy.

  To meet this requirement, Volckmann began work on two booklets. The first, titled G3 After-Battle Report, gave a reconstructive narrative of actions against the enemy from the Allied landings at Lingayen Gulf to the Japanese surrender. The second booklet was titled Guerrilla Days in North Luzon. Published by Volckmann’s Headquarters in La Union Province, it was much shorter in length than After-Battle Report. Nevertheless, Guerrilla Days provided the Army with an accurate and in-depth overview of the evolution of the North Luzon resistance. As an additional measure, Volckmann included information on the other guerrilla leaders that arose in the early stages of the conflict, for example Walter Cushing. Concurrently, Volckmann assigned certain USAFIP-NL personnel to interview the Japanese generals and other high-ranking officers that he had recently defeated in North Luzon. After being assured that the war was over and that their candor was imperative, these Japanese subjects recounted their engagements with USAFIP-NL and—with begrudging respect—admitted that Volckmann’s tactics had outfoxed them. 351

  In accordance with the original Tydings-McDuffie Act, the United States still had a promise to keep. Although the Japanese had impeded the progress towards independence, the Filipinos were ready to take control of their own country. Picking up the pieces of the shattered Philippine Army, however, would not be easy. The Japanese had destroyed nearly all of their equipment and several more items remained unaccounted for. Amid the chaos of December 1941, Philippine Army quartermasters had abandoned their supply depots to join the USAFFE retreat. American-Philippine guerrilla units, including Volckmann’s, had since foraged these unmanned depots to recover any available arms and ammunition. Despite the grim task of rebuilding the Philippine defenses, Volckmann remained slightly ahead of the curve. The United States Armed Forces in the Philippines-North Luzon was roughly the size of an American Army division. Since the amalgamated regiments of USAFIP-NL were already Philippine Army assets, Volckmann suggested converting his force into a new division of the Philippine Army. Before the Army would let him do this, however, they granted him a 45-day furlough to visit his family in the United States.

  Beginning on 30 November 1945, Volckmann began the long journey back to Clinton, Iowa. The last time he had seen his hometown was in 1940, shortly before his departure to the Philippine Islands. Prior to receiving the letter of 20 October 1944, William Volckmann buried himself in the day-to-day operations of his furniture business, desperately hoping that his son was still alive. Now that the mystery was over, he hurriedly prepared for his son’s homecoming. Meanwhile, Nancy and Russell Jr. boarded a train westbound from Arlington. Even Volckmann’s sister, Ruth Volckmann Stansbury—whose husband John was currently serving with the U.S. Army in New Guinea—arrived in Clinton for the occasion. 352

  Arriving at Hamilton Army Air Field in Novato, California, a flood of reporters from the Associated Press greeted the new colonel on the tarmac. Anxious to avoid the excessive publicity, however, Volckmann hurried himself past the throngs of newsmen and prepared to board the Statesman, a chartered ATC plane en route to Chicago. Unfortunately, due to an engine malfunction, the plane was grounded on the tarmac. Rather than have his homecoming delayed, Volckmann made other arrangements and boarded a TWA flight to Kansas City. 353 After four days of seemingly endless connecting flights, train rides, and virtually no sleep, Volckmann finally arrived in Clinton. Ironically, Volckmann had arrived in his hometown on 7 December 1945, the fourth anniversary of Pearl Harbor. 354

  Stepping off the train at the Clinton Depot, Volckmann enjoyed the tearful reunion he had been longing for. Rushing to greet him was his now nine-year-old son, Russell Jr. He had been a lad of only five when he and his mother evacuated the Philippines. Uncertain as to whether or not he would ever see his father again, the young Volckmann recalled that, “My reaction was excitement and joy. We went for several years without knowing.” 355 Minutes later, Nancy Volckmann
reunited with her soldier-husband. It was a joyous ride back to Volckmann’s home at 752 Sixth Avenue South. Greeted by his father, Volckmann received a warm embrace and a simple question: “Are you hungry, Rusty?” 356 That night, the family—William, Russell Sr., Russell Jr., Nancy, and Ruth Stansberry—enjoyed one photo op after another, as everyone in town was bustling about the return of Clinton’s war hero.

  Volckmann remained in Clinton with his family throughout Christmas and into January 1946. Unfortunately, it would soon be “back to business.” Boarding an Army air transport, Volckmann bid his family goodbye as he departed, once again, for the Philippines. This time, however, there would be no imminent war on the horizon. The enemy had surrendered and America was now at peace with the Empire of Japan. He gave his assurances to Nancy and Russell Jr. that he would return within a few months, just as soon as he transferred control of USAFIP-NL to the Filipinos.

  The process of transfering authority of the guerrilla regiments to the Philippine Army was a lengthy one. There were a number of issues that Volckmann had to tackle. Chief among them was taking an inventory of weapons and equipment, as well as coordinating pay issues with the Philippine government. Since many of Volckmann’s guerrillas were members of the Philippine Army, Scouts, or Constabulary, they sought back pay for their service against the Japanese. Guerrillas that had no military service prior to the war but now sought to join the Philippine defense community also required compensation. Since the Fall of Corregidor, USAFFE and the Philippine defense apparatus had become military non-entities. Consequently, they had no means to continue their financial operations. Furthermore, during the occupation, the only monies circulated throughout the Philippines were the Japanese war notes—which were worthless currency now that the Emperor had surrendered.

  The task of sifting through the Philippine Army’s bureaucratic minutia, however, became easier for Volckmann after the Philippine elections on 23 April 1946. The president-elect was none other than Manuel Roxas, with whom Volckmann had unwittingly earned a close friendship. Roxas had quite an interesting political career. As a Philippine senator and reserve officer in the Philippine Army, Roxas had been captured on Corregidor and impressed into the new puppet government as the chief economic advisor. Undaunted by his de facto captivity, Roxas fed intelligence to Allied spies operating in Manila. 357 Upon hearing of Volckmann’s daring escapades in North Luzon, Roxas penned the following letter:

  PHILLIPINE SENATE

  Manila

  July 31, 1945

  My dear Colonel Volckmann:

  I take this opportunity of the visit of Capt. Felix-berto M. Verano to Camp Spencer [Volckmann’s Headquarters] to write you and express my profound admiration for the most gallant and successful leadership of the guerrilla forces in Northern Luzon. Throughout the Japanese occupation, I have tried to keep informed of your activities and did everything I could to aid and support your command. All the Filipinos are deeply grateful to you and will never forget the service that you rendered not only to the United States but also to the Philippines. If there is anything that I can do to help in obtaining for you and the forces under your command the recognition that is due to you and to them, as well as any assistance that you believe just and fair to the widows and orphans of your dead soldiers, I shall be very glad to exert my efforts in their behalf.

  I am very anxious to meet you and extend to you personally my warmest congratulations. If you should come to Manila at any time in the near future, kindly let me know so that I may arrange a meeting with you.

  Yours Truly,

  (Signed) Manuel Roxas 358

  Seizing the opportunity, Volckmann solicited help from Roxas throughout the unit’s entire conversion process. Then, on 14 June 1946, the organization formerly known as the United States Armed Forces in the Philippines—North Luzon completed its transition from guerrilla force to a division of the new Philippine Army. To commemorate the occasion, President Roxas officially declared the 14th of June “USAFIPNL Day.” The affair of transforming his guerrilla outfit into a division of a professional army ended victoriously, but it would not be the last time Volckmann would call upon President Roxas for help. 359

  Returning to the United States in July 1946, Volckmann assumed the duties of Assistant Chief of Staff—Army Personnel Division, Washington, DC. During this time, Volckmann began work on a project known as the Guerrilla Recognition Program. By this time, many of the guerrillas’ receipts had been redeemed. Now, however, more individuals began lobbying the Philippine government with claims that they, too, had been guerrillas and had not been properly compensated. The Guerrilla Recognition Program set forth guidelines for evaluating claims in order to prevent fraud and abuse of the system. 360 Accordingly, a supposed guerrilla unit would have to establish the following: (1) a record of service with definite timeframes, (2) proof that the unit maintained ongoing opposition to the enemy, (3) that the activities of the unit materially contributed to the defeat of the enemy, and (4) that there was a definite organization to the unit. Using these criteria, the Army validated the claims of many of the guerrillas while discrediting those who attempted to cheat the system. 361 Meanwhile, Volckmann began the arduous journey through the Army’s rehabilitation program. The tropical diseases that Volckmann had acquired in the Philippines now lay dormant, but to prevent any future relapses, the Army put him through an endless cycle of blood work and phased medicine before issuing him a clean bill of health. Indeed, Volckmann spent more time at Walter Reed Army Hospital than he did at the Personnel Division offices. 362

  In the midst of his physical turmoil, Volckmann soon encountered a problem of a different kind: after nearly thirteen years of marriage, Nancy wanted a divorce. At first, Volckmann could hardly fathom it: for thirteen years he had been a devoted husband. Perhaps the four years of separation during the war had taken its toll, or maybe she had gained a newfound sense of independence. Whatever Nancy’s reasons may have been, Volckmann knew that if she no longer wanted the marriage, it was better to let her go than to embroil himself in a fight he couldn’t win. Thus, while making his arduous roundtrips to Walter Reed, Volckmann endured the legalistic hassles of divorce papers and asset division. Their divorce was finalized on 17 August 1947.*

  In January 1947, less than six months into his tour at Personnel Division, Volckmann received a summons from General Dwight D. Eisenhower, Army Chief of Staff. It appeared as though a problem had surfaced in the Philippines in the wake of Volckmann’s departure. During the war, Volckmann had authorized—out of military necessity—the elimination of enemy spies and collaborators. Now, it seemed as though his tactics were coming back to haunt him.

  * Although they were married for nearly thirteen years, surviving family does not recall many details about their marriage or courtship. Nancy purportedly met the young Cadet Volckmann circa 1932 when she was an art student in Philadelphia. It is possible that Nancy’s sister (who was engaged to one of Volckmann’s classmates) arranged the meeting. Nancy and Russell were married on 25 August 1934. Russell Jr. (b. 1936) was the couple’s only child. Volckmann later married Ms. Helen Rich, with whom he had two children: William (b. 1954) and Edward (b. 1961). They remained together until Volckmann’s death in 1982. Nancy, too, later remarried although she had no further children.

  When the families of the executed collaborators broke their silence, they lobbied the Philippine government to punish those responsible for the deaths of their loved ones. Don Blackburn recalled that Volckmann “explained the situation to Eisenhower [who then] dispatched him back to see MacArthur. Ike wrote a note to MacArthur which Volckmann carried, saying that he felt these cases should be quashed.” 363 Later that week, Volckmann boarded a plane to Tokyo, where General MacArthur had assumed command of the American occupation forces. Arriving at MacArthur’s Headquarters, the general’s aide-de-camp instructed Volckmann to sit down and write a “staff study” on the situation before meeting MacArthur. 364 A staff study? Volckmann and his comrades had just become t
he targets of a war criminal witch hunt—and the General wanted him to write a staff study? Thoroughly irritated, Volckmann complied with the order and wrote a four-page staff study before being ushered into the general’s office.

  Sitting across the desk from MacArthur, Volckmann watched the general peruse over the staff study he had completed only minutes ago. Chuckling, MacArthur promptly threw it in the wastebasket. 365

  “Russ, tell me what the problem is,” he said. 366

  Volckmann explained the situation to MacArthur and said that there should be no reason why anyone should stand trial for eliminating enemy conspirators. MacArthur took out his pen and notepad and drafted a memo to General James E. Moore, Commanding General of the Philippine Ryukyu Command: “Let Russ Volckmann explain it all to you, and let him write the ticket. I agree that we shouldn’t allow these things to continue.” 367

  Returning to the Philippines, Volckmann sought to cash-in his last favor with Manuel Roxas. Delivering MacArthur’s memo to General Moore, Volckmann then set out for the Presidential Palace in Manila. Together, Roxas and Volckmann produced an amnesty proclamation that read, “Any act performed in furtherance of the resistance movement should be exonerated.” 368 While the amnesty act proved beneficial to the Americans, (indeed, no American ever came to trial), it had mixed results for the Filipinos. Many of the Filipinos were being pulled into the court system, which obviously cost the Philippine government more time and money than it could feasibly devote to the project. Subsequently, President Roxas created “amnesty boards,” which would travel around the country to hear the charges levied against Filipino men and officers. Amnesty boards were unique in the sense that they did not require a lawyer, and initially they fell beyond the country’s jurisprudence. The accused would go before the board, plead their case, and “if it looked as though their actions were in furtherance of the resistance movement, amnesty was granted.” 369