Valley of the Shadow: An Account of American Pows of the Japanese

by Whitney H Galbraith

Overview

Valley of the Shadow joins a fraternity of published first-person accounts of the fall of the Philippines, including the surrender of Corregidor during World War II. Several senior staff officers of Gen. Jonathan M. Wainwright, commander of US forces in the Philippines (USFIP), were able to maintain extensive diaries during their three and a half years as POWs of Imperial Japan. These diary accounts are chronological in format and very informative of prisoner conditions and lives in various Japanese prison camps. Valley of the Shadow, transcribed from over one thousand handwritten flimsies that have sat for decades on Galbraith family shelves, treats these experiences more thematically, in third-person narrative form, enabling the author, Col. Nicoll F. Galbraith, to offer a psychological, emotional, and moral matrix to help the reader interpret the challenges and personal behaviors of incarcerated American prisoners who suddenly had been deprived of their normal social and physical lives as officers, colleagues, husbands, and fathers. Colonel Galbraith, exercising a more literary bent, describes his own and his prison mates' struggle to maintain their personal dignity and relationships. As Wainwright's G-4 logistics staff officer, Colonel Galbraith was in unique proximity to the minute-by-minute Corregidor surrender process and release/rescue of the Americans in 1945, both of which were very close calls.

Product Details

ISBN-13:	9781984535924
Publisher:	Xlibris Us
Publication date:	06/30/2018
Pages:	544
Sales rank:	537,250
Product dimensions:	6.00(w) x 9.00(h) x 1.21(d)

Read an Excerpt

CHAPTER 1

VALLEY OF THE SHADOW

It was only a matter of minutes, but they were interminable minutes, before Blake reached the high ground safely. His load was growing heavy at each step, but to Blake it would not become too heavy until he had deposited it in gentle hands back to the rear. He had no sooner reached the high and flat projection of land than he was challenged. The call came in dialect, and while Blake did not understand the words, he knew the meaning.

"This is your regimental commander," Blake called back in a loud whisper, speaking slowly and with deliberate enunciation. He wanted to make certain that the soldier clearly understood and that he took no adverse action. This was no moment to be dropped by one of his on men.

"Pass, sir," came the reply, but Blake knew that the danger was over. He doubted if he had been recognized, but at least his voice and tone had brought the results he needed. Tomorrow, he would look into further training for his soldiers when on outpost duty.

As soon as he encountered a squad of his forward troops, he gave them hasty and sharp directions. "Here, Sergeant, get a litter and have this man carried back to the dressing station. Hurry! He is bad hit. Needs a doctor quick. Be gentle."

Blake then hastened to the nearest field telephone. "Get me through to regiment, quick." He held the field phone to his ear a moment until he heard, "Canary," from the other end of the line. That was the regimental switchboard.

"Cactus, hurry!"

"Number, sir?" came the reply, and Blake immediately realized that he was in the meshes of a most difficult situation. Here was the only real problem he had ever encountered in his training of the native soldiers. If one ever shouted excitedly into a telephone to a native operator, that soldier would forget everything he should do and his training would appear to leave him completely. Only another native speaking in dialect can restore the man to his senses.

The moment was too serious for Blake to permit delay. It was only his fundamental knowledge of the situation and not keen mentality that put him on the correct tack. "Line test," he called over the wire.

"Sir?" came back in the receiver.

"Damn it to hell," Blake mumbled to himself, and then quickly bringing himself under control, he repeated slowly and calmly, "Line test. Line test." Surely the use of terms familiar and in the language of a telephone man would settle the operator down to normal.

"Oh, yes, sir. Canary, sir. She is working fine, sir."

A sigh came from Blake. The relief to feel that the operator was in full command of his faculties again was a pleasant sensation. "Operator," Blake began in a quiet and slow voice. He was not going to make the mistake again of exciting the man on the switchboard. "Operator, get me Cactus."

This time, there was not hitch, and Blake soon had the division commander on the phone. After identifying himself, he reported, "General, this is the night! The Japs are getting ready."

"But, the reports from your sector say that all is quiet. What brought about the sudden change?"

The general was cautious. Too many rumors had misled him in the past for him to get excited over a report of this nature until he had been fully assured.

"I was down in the ravine myself, Blake explained, "The sound of the firing was different, and I didn't like it, so I took a patrol and went down there to find out. They sure are getting ready. I could hear a lot of moving around and whispered orders. Never before have they had more than an occasional scout moving about down in the ravine."

"Well, good job, Colonel. You didn't have any damn business doing that yourself, but I suppose that is the most certain way of getting firsthand information."

Blake knew that he had violated orders about exposing himself unnecessarily when there were others trained to carry on such duties. It was not a regimental commander's function to make patrols in the middle of the night. There were too few of those senior officers, and their job was to command large bodies of soldiers, not a squad.

"If this is the time," the general continued, "it is well that we have our plans all set. Move your troops into the gaps as planned. You will have to use your own judgment when to open fire. We can't coordinate it in this pitch-blackness. But don't let a single one get through. I'll alert the adjacent regiments and the artillery to be prepared to fire on their emergency barrage lines. This is going to be a lot of fun." The general was enjoying the advantage he had over the enemy by knowing his future actions and being able to make his own dispositions to meet the threat. "I'll see that you are properly rewarded for that courageous act." Then, suddenly bristling over the phone, he bellowed, "No. I'll be damned if I will. You violated my orders by going down there and nearly lost me a regimental commander."

Blake smiled as he replaced the receiver. Generals weakened even though they had to give the appearance of rigid discipline. His smile also meant that he too was going to enjoy the fun. "Like shooting fish in a bathtub," he commented to himself as he moved toward his own command post to issue the necessary instructions to his subordinates. Ashley continued to stare off into space, while some of the others discussed their present and future under the Japanese conqueror. As they sat in the little room at Karenko that was to be their home for an uncertain period, Ashley was apparently listening to the conversation of his companions in a half-interested fashion; but he was not inclined to enter into it. The few remarks that he contributed had the sting of sarcasm and pessimism. Something more than the present condition of affairs seemed to bother him. He actually was brooding; but, if he were asked where his thoughts were, he could probably not give a rational answer. Those thoughts were too confused yet to identify and classify. When they arranged themselves into a recollection of the past several months, though, he was enthralled with the spectacular events in which he had had a principal role.

It was January. The defenses of Bataan had but recently been set up, and now everyone was engaged in bringing them to the highest possible state of perfection with the limited resources at hand. Ashley had command of a small detachment down on the southwest tip of the peninsula, with the mission of observing the sea to the west. Should any enemy vessels be so foolhardy as to come within the range of the guns of Corregidor, he was to send the alarm and conduct the fire. Nothing of that sort appeared likely, but his time was spent in perfecting the means of observation and conduct of fire, just in case.

His little kingdom was a jut of land that consisted wholly of a peak, jungle covered, interspersed with boulders. The spot was a nasty place, as everyone agreed. It was difficult to move over, and it exhausted each of the troops when they had to travel from their campsite at the base of the rugged hill to the top where the observation station had been set up. But each one did his duty well and efficiently. After all it was quiet there, quite different from the Abucay line up to the north, where history was being written in blood and fire. Better not complain about this location; although each one would, deep down in his soul, admit that he would be happier if he were ordered up there where the big show was going on.

Early one morning, Ashley and two of his soldiers started up the hill, as was customary. They were to be the first relief gazing seaward that day, watching the enemy ships that would slide past on their way to and from Subic Bay to the north. But the enemy was most clever, damn them — always careful to keep out of range of Corregidor's guns. By some diabolical means, they seemed to know just how far that was. They would come close to a kill zone but never quite close enough.

Ashley was in the lead as the small group laboriously picked its way up the narrow trail to the top. Before the group had quite reached the summit, Ashley heard a gasp from one of the men behind him. It was so unexpected that he halted in his climb and turned around.

"What's the matter, Sergeant?" he asked.

"Japs, Captain," the soldier replied in a horror-stricken tone.

"Where?" Ashley queried, looking in the direction that the sergeant was pointing but unable to see anything unusual.

"On the little ridge, just below us. Lots of them."

"Oh, yes, I see them now," he replied as he carefully dropped down behind a large boulder so he would not be seen. "They are working fast on something. Probably digging in."

"No, sir, Captain. From this angle, I can see better. They are bringing things up over that cliff."

"But they can't climb up that steep and rocky surface," Ashley said, trying to convince the sergeant.

"Maybe not, but they sure are doing it. Look at them now. More of them are coming over the edge, and look at those loads they are carrying."

"Gosh, you are right. Why, those are artillery guns. Look like 75s, and they are putting the parts together. They must have a breakdown model. This is real news!"

"Yes, and our quiet little sector has suddenly turned into a battleground."

"It soon will be; that is certain." Then, when the real truth of the situation was evident to Ashley, he cried aloud, "Holy smoke! They are going to cut the West Road!"

That was most ominous information. A single road ran around the perimeter of the Bataan peninsula, like a horseshoe. Each forward end stopped in the rear of the two defensive forces into which the army was divided. That was the supply and evacuation route, and the only one. All else was mountainous jungle of the most difficult sort. Now the enemy had landed a force right in the middle of the curved part of the horseshoe. If the road were cut, the left force, the I Corps, would be isolated. This was a development of the greatest moment. And each man in the little detachment needed no one to explain that dangerous situation to him.

"Sergeant," Ashley began to give his orders. He was calm and precise. All the qualities of a great soldier were present, even though he was but a youth. "Sergeant, two things. Hurry down the trail to our camp and send every man up here to me. Put Hendricks in command and tell him that not a single man is to expose himself where the Naps can see him. As soon as you have done that, call up headquarters and tell them that the enemy, at least a company, is now on Longoskawayan Point. I will take my detachment around this hill on the far side, under cover, and drive them back over the cliff. Do you fully understand?"

"Yes, sir," the sergeant replied and repeated back to Ashley the instructions that he had received. Then he added, "But, Captain, don't you start anything until I get back. I may miss it if you do."

"Have no fear there, sergeant. You will be back in plenty of time to do your share. This is not going to be any simple matter. But I cannot afford to delay, because they are getting stronger every minute. Shake it up!"

While Ashley waited until his men came up, he surveyed the situation. It never occurred to him to wait until he could gather together greater strength than his small numbers or to await instructions from his commander. Here was a job to be done, at once! He might fail to clear the hill of the enemy, but at any rate, he could delay the enemy's preparations by immediate and aggressive action.

The sergeant must have tossed a bomb into the soldiers at the camp at the base of the hill. Excitement and duty spurred them on when they received the news. Up they came, in no formation, each one rushing forward as fast as he could under the difficult conditions. Each one was out of breath and clad in what he happened to have been wearing at the moment. But no one forgot his rifle. There was a small group of seamen from one of the vessels that had been destroyed in the bay, a squad of marines that had been attached earlier to assist in guarding equipment, and a group of casuals from the Philippine Army that had been attached to Ashley's command for rations until they could be sent back to their own command.

Sergeant Hendricks was in the lead; the others trailed on behind. At a signal from Ashley, he halted and dropped down undercover. He passed the instructions on to those in rear.

"Move off to your right flank," Ashley called softly, "and halt at that big tree with the broken limb."

Ashley moved in the same direction. When he met the sergeant, he gave his instructions. "Look, Hendricks. We have a nasty job ahead. There is at least a company of Japs on that ridge off to the left. They somehow or other have climbed up that steep cliff and dragged their weapons, including artillery, up with them. Our job is to stop them in their tracks before they can get organized. If we are too late, they will cut the West Road, and half of our force will be out of action in a matter of days."

"Let's get the little devils. We'll kill every one of them." Hendricks was excited, and he let his emotions take control.

"Now take it easy, Sergeant," Ashley said, trying to calm him. "This is not going to be very simple. They are in a fine spot to hold out in spite of our effort. We must be very cautious and try to close in on them without being seen. It is impossible to get above them, so we must fight them going up hill. Let us move around the side of this peak, with every man keeping under cover. That is especially important because half of them are in white undershirts and blue denim, which makes them easily seen."

"But that makes no difference. We'll mop them up in a hurry. Them damn Japs are no good. They can't fight."

"Sergeant." Ashley spoke with some heat to impress the sergeant with the difficulties that confronted them. "I want you to get that foolishness out of your mind right now. This is a real scrap. And the damn Japs can fight! They are in a favorable position and will make every effort to do what they have come for. And another thing — there is not a soldier in our detachment who has ever fired a rifle at a man before. On top of that, they are dressed in clothes that will give away their presence a mile off. Now get this." Ashley spoke his words slowly as he pointed his finger at Hendricks. "Every man here is anxious to do the right thing, and they are all itching to go. But we must use every caution. Lots of these men are going to get hurt in spite of our best efforts, and we have to keep that down to a minimum. However, regardless of that, we have to get this job done. Come on!"

Ashley carefully moved around the side of the peak, keeping behind trees and brush. Those behind took their cue from him and did likewise. When he came within vision of the enemy, he dropped down and crawled from boulder to boulder, slowly moving toward the enemy position and looking for the most advantageous spot to open the attack.

He had no sooner satisfied himself as to the best position and had disposed his detachment than he saw one of the enemy faces look in his direction and point an arm toward the place where he was. It was too far to hear what the Japanese said, but it was evident that he had sighted Ashley and his soldiers and was informing the other enemy troops. Ashley immediately opened fire, which was the signal for the others to follow suit. The enemy dropped down out of sight. In a few seconds, their rifle bullets were pinging back.

"Hendricks, you keep firing on their position so they will be kept well occupied. I am going to take five or six men and crawl through the ravine and up on the ridge where they are and hit them on the flank.

"But, Captain, can't I go along with you? That will be so much more fun."

Ashley paid him no attention. He gathered up a few soldiers near him, gave them some instructions, and slipped down into the intervening ravine. The sergeant called words of encouragement to those left behind and moved back and forth among them, pointing out targets.

Meanwhile, Ashley crawled on forward, apparently unobserved, as no missiles were sent in his direction. He made his way cautiously down the slope, checked his men, issued further instructions, and began the hazardous trip up the next ridge. He kept well off to the flank and was amazed that the enemy did not observe him. He thought to himself that Hendricks was doing a fine job in keeping them occupied. After all, they had been caught unprepared and were fighting from behind trees and boulders without proper defensive positions.

He finally achieved the location he wanted and smiled to himself that it had been so simple. Each of those who had accompanied him was placed in favorable spots, and at his signal, they opened fire. Ashley's smile broadened into a grin as he witnessed the consternation that he caused by his wholly unexpected flank attack. Caught unawares, many of the enemy fell at the first burst of fire; others, sensing their precarious situation, had to squirm about to find protection from two fronts.

(Continues…)

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Excerpted from "Valley of the Shadow"
by .
Copyright © 2018 Colonel Nicoll F. Galbraith, GSC, U.S. Army.
Excerpted by permission of Xlibris.
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