At 12:30 p.m. on April 9, 1942, Brigadier General Edward King, commanding officer at Bataan in the Philippines, surrendered to the Japanese. The victorious Japanese then forced more than 10,000 American and 65,000 Filipino survivors of Bataan’s garrison to march 100 kilometers in blazing heat from Mariveles to San Fernando. Already weary from months of fighting, the Filipinos and Americans also suffered from malaria, hunger and thirst. Those who fell along the way were beaten and clubbed–often to death–by their captors. Six hundred to 650 Americans and 5,000 to 10,000 Filipinos died on the trek.

At San Fernando the survivors were crowded into stifling, sealed railroad boxcars, in which many more died. When the men arrived four hours later in Capas, Tarlac province, they were forced to detrain and begin a 10-kilometer walk to Camp O’Donnell. During the first 40 days in prison, about 1,570 Americans died from malnutrition, disease and beatings. More than 25,000 Filipinos died in about four months, until the Japanese began paroling Philippine army personnel in July 1942. But Philippine Scouts, who were part of the U.S. Army, were kept in captivity.

On June 6, 1942, the American survivors of Camp O’Donnell–except for about 500, who were held primarily for burial detail–moved once again, to Camp Cabanatuan. About 3,000 more Americans would die there, mostly from the lingering effects of the fighting on Bataan, the Death March and Camp O’Donnell.

Major Richard M. Gordon, U.S. Army (ret.), was a defender of Bataan and is a survivor of the Death March, Camp O’Donnell, Camp Cabanatuan and three years’ captivity in Mitsushima, Japan. As the founder of a group known as the ‘Battling Bastards of Bataan,’ whose motto is ‘In Pursuit of Truth,’ Gordon has worked hard to dispel some of the myths surrounding the infamous Death March.

‘Less than 1,000 survivors of Bataan are alive today,’ he said. ‘In perhaps 10 years, they will all be gone. Most, if not all, would like to leave behind them the truth that was Bataan. To do less would dishonor those men who died on Bataan, in Camp O’Donnell and Cabanatuan, aboard the hell ships taking them to Japan and Manchuria, and in prison camps all over those countries.’

In an interview with John P. Cervone, Major Gordon recalled those terrible events.

Military History: How did you come to be on Bataan?

Gordon: I joined the Regular Army on August 5, 1940. When I enlisted, I requested the 31st U.S. Infantry Regiment in Manila. I was first sent to Fort Slocum, N.Y., where we received some introductory training. I remained there until September 7, 1940. At the time, Fort Slocum was a staging area for those going on overseas assignments, including Panama, Puerto Rico, Hawaii and the Philippines. From Fort Slocum our unit was taken by tugboat down the Hudson River to the Brooklyn Army Base, where we boarded the U.S. Army transport Grant on September 14, bound for the Philippines. The trip, counting a week stopover at Fort McDowell in San Francisco, took 48 days.

MH: What did you do upon arrival?

Gordon: I received basic training in Manila. I was assigned to Company F and lived in the Estado Mayor Barracks, formerly the home of the Spanish army cavalry when they occupied the Philippines in 1898. At the time, I was paid $21 per month, with an increase to $30 after four months.

MH: What was it like to be stationed there?

Gordon: Being in the Philippines before the war was great! We lived much like the British soldiers in India. Due to the heat, we only trained until noon, except when in the field for jungle training. Rifle marksmanship was a two-week period, once a year. Lack of funds prohibited further firing. This was our routine for 15 months before the war broke out.

MH: What was the general reaction when war started on December 7, 1941?

Gordon: We knew war was coming to the Philippines months before it happened, so it was no surprise. As Americans, we felt unbeatable and thought the skirmish would be short-lived. We looked upon the Japanese soldier with contempt–clearly a mistake.

MH: What did your outfit do in those first days of the invasion?

Gordon: On December 10, 1941, my unit moved into the field from our peacetime post at Fort William McKinley. We moved north with the North Luzon Force, then commanded by Maj. Gen. Jonathan M. Wainwright, acting as the security force for his headquarters and staff. Within two weeks our unit had divided into forward and rear command posts [CPs]. I was assigned to the forward CP. Our platoon, under the command of Lieutenant Henry G. Lee (a noted poet of the time), acted as a skirmish line to contend with Japanese infiltrators.

MH: When did you move to Bataan?

Gordon: We moved into the Bataan Peninsula on New Year’s Eve. The battle for Bataan began officially on January 2, 1942. After we assumed our first major line of defense, the Pilar­Bagac line, we held our ground for nearly two months. The Japanese were defeated trying to crack this line, and things settled down until their replacements arrived. It was during this period that Brig. Gen. Maxon S. Lough of Palo Alto, Calif., assumed command of the Philippine Division, of which the 31st was a part. Events were also set in motion that would set the stage for the next few years. The United States could not decide whether to fight or evacuate the Philippines. In December 1941 Secretary of War Henry Stimson was asked about plans for Bataan and replied, ‘There are times when men must die.’ In early January our rations were cut in half, and in February they were halved again. By March we were existing on 1,000 calories a day, eating salmon and rice. Quinine, used to ward off malaria, disappeared by March 1, and dysentery was running rampant. Much of our ammunition was from World War I. Of 10 grenades, three might detonate. We had mortars, but no ammunition for them.

MH: When did the Japanese offensive resume in earnest?

Gordon: Enemy pressure began to build again in March 1942, with the arrival of replacements. Our division CP began to move backward on a regular basis–we seldom held one area for very long. General Lough never believed in leaving his command post any sooner than necessary. As a result, each night we were required to establish new defensive positions around the CP. During those last nights on Bataan we often heard the Japanese trying to infiltrate our lines. One morning General Lough was entering his staff car just as a unit of Japanese came around a bend in the road. We slowed them up until he was safely away.

MH: How long were you able to hold the line?

Gordon: We remained there–on several different lines of resistance–until the final Japanese breakthrough on April 3, 1942.

MH: How did you feel about the surrender?

Gordon: I was captured–I did not surrender. Most of my fellow soldiers felt as I did–that we could not lose. We believed it was just a question of when the promised reinforcements would arrive. We were lied to–but by Washington, not by General Douglas MacArthur. We never knew defeat was imminent until our commanding general told us he had surrendered. At the time, no one believed him, and when they found out it was true, many were in tears. We felt we indeed had been ‘expendable.’ During a later prison camp session held by our Bataan garrison CO, Maj. Gen. Edward P. King, Jr., before he was shipped out to Mukden, Manchuria, he told us we had been asked to lay down a bunt to gain time. The baseball metaphor was probably the best way to explain why we were there in the first place.

MH: How were you taken prisoner?

Gordon: General Lough gave us the word of our unit’s surrender. After hearing this, we camped in combat positions on Mount Bataan, known at the time as Signal Hill. A small group of us went farther up the mountain, in an effort to avoid surrender. Several days passed with no sign of the enemy. Hungry and in need of provisions, Co

rporal Elmer Parks (of Oklahoma) and I volunteered to drive down the hill to our last position in search of supplies. Elmer was driving and I was riding shotgun in a Dodge pickup truck. We gathered up a number of Garand M1 rifles at our former position, left behind by the Japanese, who did not want to use them. Loading the rifles aboard the truck, we decided to go a little farther down the road to where other units had been. Driving down the mountain road, we came upon a huge Philippine banyan tree, so large it served as a road divider. As we approached the tree, a lone Japanese soldier holding a rifle stepped out from behind it. Elmer stopped the truck, and we stared at one another, wondering what to do next. The thought of attempting to run occurred to both of us, as did the thought of picking up one of the newly acquired Garand M1s. But neither of us did a thing, other than stare at the Japanese soldier. Finally, he motioned to us to get out of the truck. At that moment 10 or 15 more Japanese came out from the brush lining the road. They surely had us in their sights all the time and probably would have enjoyed shooting us more than capturing us and adding to their burden. These were front-line troops, scouring the area for enemy resistance. Once we were out of the truck, they took turns hitting us with the butts of their rifles. We were searched, and whatever valuables we had–like wristwatches, cigarette lighters and wallets–were taken. On our way down the mountain I saw our battalion commander, Major James Ivy, bare from the waist up and dead, with countless bayonet holes in his back. It was then that Elmer and I knew we were in trouble.

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