Searching for World war II Wrecks (Part Two)Prepared by Harold Stephens
Travel Correspondent for Thai Airways International
Mario Machi was a fisherman. He had a fishing shop that sold bait and tackle in a small coastal town called Shelter Cove on the California ocean side. I had gone to the cove to fish for tuna with friends when I was introduced to Mario. When he heard I was on my way to the Philippines right after the fishing trip he said I should visit Corregidor. He laughed and said he had some memories of that place. He was there during the war as a prisoner of war under the Japanese. I did as he suggested and, when I arrived in Manila, I took the ferry to Corregidor.
I had been to Corregidor several times, including once in 1967 in which I gathered information on the 25th anniversary of the fall of Corregidor for a magazine assignment I had. I was impressed then but it was nothing like this last trip, maybe because the image of a gray-hair fisherman on the California coast that danced around in my mind. I now had a connection. I signed up for "The Malinta Experience," a light-and-sound presentation of the siege of Corregidor, sponsored by the Philippine Tourist Board. I arrived at the island with a small tour group and was led into the tunnel. Mario had been there too, some 60 years before.
Suddenly there was a loud jolt. Shock after shock filled the tunnel! The string of light bulbs suspended from the ceiling swung from side to side, glowed dimly and almost blacked out. Slowly they came on again, flickering as they did. The concrete floor beneath my feet trembled with such violence I felt I might topple over. And now came the sound; it was deafening, like a weight, pressing down on me. Dust fell from everywhere and the walls seemed as though they might collapse. There was no escape, no place to run; I was as deep as I could get into the bowels of the earth and still I was not safe! God, what must man do to live!
Indeed, there was no mistaking: I was in Malinta Tunnel on Corregidor. The date was May 6, 1942.
Correction. I was made to think it is 1942. Actually it was 2007, some sixty-five years later. Nevertheless, I felt I was there in time.
The feeling, the sensation that visitors receive in Malinta Tunnel is about as close as you can get to the real thing. In fact, it's so realistic you may want to break loose from the others and run from the tunnel. You can very easily do that, run for the light at the far end but, for the soldiers who were defending the rock sixty-five years ago, that would have been impossible. They were doomed to die, or else surrender.
The Japanese began their all-out offensive against Corregidor after the fall of Bataan. During the 27-day period from 9 April to the date of its capture on 6 May, Corregidor was subjected to bombardment from land and air such as few other areas its size ever received. Those on the island had the feeling of standing on jelly, so intense and so continuous were the explosions.
On May 6, 1942, after defending the island for five long months, General Jonathan Wainwright gave the orders to raise a white flag.
Corregidor today stands as a war monument. The huge caverns are empty and the big guns rust in their positions, forever silent. In retrospect, the battles for Corregidor, both the surrender and the retaking of the island, were gallant fights but in themselves military failures.
The rock is there for anyone to see today. But it's more than just a place. It's an emotional experience.
I remembered Mario, the fisherman, telling me that he had been on the Bataan Death March. I had to see that too and hired a car to follow along the same route. Every now and then there are plaques denoting the route. It’s a drive I can recommend any history buff to make.
The 60-mile (97 km) march occurred after the three-month Battle of Bataan. The march involved the forcible transfer of 75,000 American and Filipino prisoners of war from the Bataan peninsula to prison camps. Some 7,000 never made it resulting from the high fatalities inflicted upon the prisoners and civilians along the route by the Japanese: beheadings, cut throats, shootings, bayonet stabbings, rapes, disembowelments, rifle butt beatings, all were reported as the cause of so many deaths. When I returned to Shelter Cove in California I talked to Mario Machi about his experiences. “The Japanese soldiers didn’t allow us food or water while keeping us continually marching for nearly a week.”
I was astounded to learn that Mario had kept a diary of the ordeal, which has survived to this day. At the risk of death, each day he jotted down details of the march but finally, when it became too risky at the end of the march, he wrote his name and California address in the diary and handed it to a Filipino standing by the wayside. Years later, after Mario’s discharge and while he was at his home, the diary arrived in the mail. Mario gave me the diary to read.
From what I read, I convinced Mario that he should write a book and tell the world about the atrocities of war. He did and I wrote the introduction for him. The book is titled “Under the Rising Sun.”
As I mentioned last week, I spent several years aboard my schooner Third Sea searching out World War II wrecks. I was not there to salvage wrecks, only to write about them. Salvaging, anyway, would have been impossible. There are obstacles, and the major one is ownership. Nearly every island chain in the Pacific has become independent since the war and they have set up rigid rules protecting their islands and the people who inhabit them. I can think of one case in particular.
The place is Lorengau, the port capital of the island Manus north of New Guinea. We dropped anchor in Seeadler Harbour and along with a rusted freighter were the only two ships there. Through my binoculars I studied the slumbering, quiet little port basking in the tropics. I really had to stretch my imagination to picture the place as it was during the war years. Lorengau then was one of the most important deepwater ports in the South Pacific.
It was this small and almost unknown island that General Douglas MacArthur pointed a finger to the map and said, "Here we begin our offensive.” Two marine divisions stormed ashore and within five days of bloody fighting retook the island from the Japanese forces. Then came the changes.
At Manus, the US Government assembled one of the greatest naval establishments in history. James Michener who was there at the time described it: "Overnight Lorengau became a city larger than Sacramento. It had stores worth half a billion dollars. MacArthur was preparing for the invasion of Leyte and in the roadstead I saw 26 carriers, dozens of battle ships and actually hundreds of lesser craft."
Others who had been there reported seeing no less than a thousand ships at anchor at any one time. There were post exchanges by the score, dozens of movie houses, fuel depots, electric power plants, two dry cleaners and three huge laundries, a radio station telephone exchange, miles of paved roads, six airfields and storage sheds that filled hectares of ground.
What happened to it all? Today the island is back to jungle.
"You Yanks walked off and left it all," an Australian District Officer explained when I went ashore. "What you couldn't sell, you bulldozed into the sea." He pointed to a jetty. "Most expensive seawall in the world."
The bulk of the incredible wealth, however, was sold lock, stock and barrel to Chinese wholesalers at 10 cents to the dollar and carried off to make fortunes in Hong Kong.
But it wasn't only the Chinese who had the mind for making a fortune from the war. The District Officer drove me to a hidden storage pit that is worth a gold mine. He explained how it was discovered.
When New Guinea got its independence from Australia, most of the land was divided among the islanders. One native went out to look at the land given to him, which was heavily overgrown by jungle. He stumbled across some corrugated tin which he uncovered. It would make good siding for his house. When he pulled the tin out he noticed it was a covering for a cave of sorts, and when he checked farther he saw a wooden crate which he opened.
Inside was a washing machine, perfectly preserved. But he had no need for a washing machine or anything else he saw. And most likely he would have said nothing about his discovery except people started asking about the new tin that appeared on his house. Eventually the story reached the authorities and the District Officer went to check. What he found was more than a washing machine.
No one knows the facts, but it is surmised that when the orders were given to destroy all the supplies when America withdrew after the war, an enterprising American officer had some other ideas. He bulldozed a huge pit over a hundred metres long, five metres deep and six metres wide. That makes a pretty deep hole in the ground. Then into this pit he drove trucks and jeeps, loaded with engines and generators and tools. Each and every item was preserved in thick grease. He then took some large "I" beams, laid them across the top, and covered this with corrugated tin. When this was done he covered the roof with a couple of metres of earth.
The officer no doubt intended to return one day and claim his treasure, but, obviously, he never did. In any event, the location of the site was forgotten. But the incredible part of the story is that the Melanesian, whose property the niche is on, refuses to uncover it. He is aware that he has a fortune on his land but the knowledge is sufficient enough to make him happy. No one can force him to look beyond.
A similar situation happened at Espiritu Santo in the New Hebrides. Almost overnight the port became another Lorengau and grew into a great naval base. The war ended and the French, who had possession of the islands, refused to pay 10 cents on the dollar, knowing the Americans would not take everything back. Instead, with tears in their eyes, the French watched the US Military drive their tanks and jeeps and trucks into the sea. At Santo, I anchored next to a seawall a kilometer and a half long and all along its base the sea lapped at old engine blocks, heavy axles and truck beds. The loss had to be staggering.
Next week, in our final series of Searching for World War II Wrecks, we will visit more islands and beautiful Bora Bora in French Polynesia. QUESTIONS & ANSWERSQ. Dear Mr. Stephens. I just read that Thai Airways has special flights to Bodhagaya and Varanasi In India, and I would imagine this is in connection with spiritual pilgrimages in search of the Buddha. Can you tell me more about these destinations? What about Buddha’s birthplace in Nepal? Nancy Yee, Hong Kong
A. Dear Nancy. If you open the Back to Index below you will see two articles I wrote previously on Buddha’s pilgrimage route. The sites I wrote about included the place where Buddha was born in Lumbini, Nepal: the site where the Buddha found his enlightenment Bodhagaya, India; and where he passed away in Kushinagar. I hope this answers your questions.
Harold Stephens
Bangkok
E-mail: ROH Weekly Travel (booking@inet.co.th)
Note: The article is the personal view of the writer and does not necessarily reflect the view of Thai Airways International Public Company Limited. | 
