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Clark Air Field
A few days later I was headed back to combat.
When I rejoined my company, they were retaking
Clark Air Field, close to the city of Manila. I hadn't been in
combat long when my heavy cartridge belt came down over my incision
and tore it open. So back to the hospital for another operation!
The second time they removed gauze that the first doctor had
missed when he sewed me up too quickly. Considering the hand
grenades being thrown at the tent, I'm surprised he took the
time to sew me up at all.
At night our artillery would send out a barrage
of explosives all around us, about 75 to 100 feet out, in order
to keep the enemy from infiltrating us under the cover of darkness.
But this time they had already come in closer. Just before darkness
and under the cover of thick jungle, the Japanese positioned
themselves just thirty to forty feet outside of our perimeter.
Our perimeter was comprised of a circle of men in fox holes,
each of which was three to four feet wide and three to four feet
deep.
That night we were ordered to unload our guns and
fight hand to hand with knives, shovels, or whatever we could
find. No way, if I could help it, was I going to tackle one of
those big Japanese marines in hand to hand combat. I had a 38
special handgun tucked away for close combat.
The Japanese attacked. I could hear them rushing
forward, followed by the sound of clashing weapons, moaning,
and intense fighting. They were coming my way and I can't even
describe how scared I was. I lied on my back with my knees drawn
up, my head against my helmet, and my 38 pointing at the opening.
I prayed!
And then I went to sleep.
Am I a hero or what? I had a dream of the brightest
beam of light shining down from the heavens and I must have slept
for a couple of hours. When I woke up everything was quiet, so
I stood up to relieve myself over the edge of the fox hole. The
next morning my squad leader told me he was ready to jump me,
thinking I was the enemy. He also told me a Japanese soldier
had stepped over my fox hole while I was sleeping. The moon was
shining down through the trees, so he was certainly able to see
me. Evidently he thought I was dead and moved on.
Thank you Jesus, that was a very close one.
A week or so later...
There were bullets zinging over my head, artillery
and mortar shells bursting all around,
and only a few of us left in my Infantry Company. I was down
in my fox hole writing my mother a letter, trying to tell her
I didn't think I was going to make it back. After seeing so many
of my buddies shot down all around me, their bodies riddled with
bullets and shrapnel, breathing through holes in their backs,
begging me to finish them off no medic was around. My body was
always tense, waiting for that bullet with my name attached.
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