H-Mule-MMontgomery

Contributed by Monty Montgomery, POW, 5^th ABUnit, Del Monte Field, Mindanao, Philippines.

Mules have been the primary work unit and strength of the U.S. Army from George Washington's Continental Army through World War II. These steady, dependable creatures have carried food, supplies, arms and ammunition through swamps, deserts, jungles and mountains, never complaining but occasionally letting a GI mule skinner know when a load was too heavy or a path was too dangerous by refusing to move until the mule skinner wised up to the same intelligence level as the mule. Mule-sense being more advanced than horse-sense or man-sense; mules never started wars, they only helped man fight them.

World War II brought the U.S. Army into the poisonous world of gasoline and diesel fumes, leaving behind the fresh smell of manure and alfalfa hay on crisp frosty mornings. After World War II the Army still recognized the mule as symbolic of the strength and dependability of the U.S. Army, but he was relegated to the role of mascot. Today the Army mule's duty is to lead the Black Knights of the Hudson onto the football field in their annual battle with the Middies of Annapolis. No longer does he go with his troops into swamps, deserts, jungles and mountains.

In the late summer of 1940, one of the last shipments of horses for the 26th Cavalry and mules for artillery pack trains in the Philippines was being loaded at the Presidio of San Francisco, on board the Army's livestock boat, "USS Meigs". In this shipment were two large gray-white Missouri mules who were destined to make Army history. Indication of the smart awareness of the mule, one refused to board, apparently knowing what was to happen to him in the Philippines after Pearl Harbor. It took four soldiers, two of them sawing a hemp rope under his tail on the tender part of his butt, to get him aboard.

Immediately after Pearl Harbor the only American force in action was the U.S. Forces and Philippine Army in the Philippines, trying to hold the Japanese at bay until Pearl could be rebuilt and functional. Because of the small number of trained American and Filipino troops and shortage of supplies, the combined Philippine Force pulled back to Bataan to establish a shorter line of defense. On Bataan the U.S. Army Veterinary Detachment set up shop in Rodriguez Park under the trees, where horse and mule casualties were treated, mostly for shrapnel and bomb frag wounds.

Enter our jungle animal hospital two gray refugees from Missouri via San Francisco, who were destined to make U.S. Army history. Both suffering from bomb frag wounds, they were tied in a bamboo thicket where they immediately began to chew on the tender shoots. They suffered from the same malady as the human troops, namely starvation. Also, having discovered that the droning sound of high flying bombers and the terrifying shrill whistle and rattle of falling bombs were connected with pain, they became very nervous and edgy when sounds of planes were in the air.

The Missouri hay-burners destroyed their bamboo cover with their nervous thrashing about and eating, leaving them exposed to low flying Zeros returning from other targets and looking for something to empty their guns on before returning across the bay. The Zero pilots, not knowing what was in the woods around the two large unusual looking animals, assumed it was worth shooting at and made nuisances of themselves on the way home.

Near the Veterinary base in Rodriguez Park was a gun placement containing a twin-50 caliber machine gun on an anti-aircraft mount. The gun placement was manned by three members of the Philippine Air Force, who had lost their planes and three Marines from the Shanghai embassy guard stranded in the Philippines. The Veterinary Detachment's only entertainment was watching the fight between the Philippine Air Force and Marines over who would fire the gun every time a Zero appeared. Usually by the time the brawl was over and someone was on the gun, the plane was gone.

Major Wesley Bertz, the commanding officer of the Veterinary Detachment, decided that the two flop-eared critters, who were attracting all the attention from above, were causing too much commotion. Between the strafing and the battles between the Marines and Philippine Air Force, he had enough mule trouble, so he sent for the lowest non-com in the detachment, Corporal Otto Whittington of Sweetwater, Texas. The Corporal was always available for any detail the Major thought too difficult or impossible. As the man of the hour, I was ordered to "Camouflage those (-------) mules!"

Being the curious type I asked "How?", and was told, "How the (----) do I know HOW? Camouflage those (----) mules, that's an Order!" I replied "Yes, Sir!, I'll need an open requisition for necessary supplies from the Quartermaster." I was given an open requisition for supplies necessary to camouflage hospital items. So I rounded up my two henchmen, Pfc. Watson and Pfc. DeLapp, who were always dependable and never questioned how ridiculous any assignment sounded. DeLapp was the unofficial driver of the Detachment's only vehicle, a beat-up flat bed Ford truck that no one seemed to know where it came from but was good for hauling any rice straw we could forage to feed the animals.

With Watson and me riding shotgun. looking out for strafing Zeros and rear echelon snipers, we headed toward Mariveles and the Quartermaster dump. After the first three weeks of the war Manila had been declared an open city to try and save it from destruction by Japanese bombers. Prior to that declaration, the Quartermaster had been busy floating supplies on barges to Bataan for a long siege. They had the foresight to include several cases of old-fashioned Putman dye, the kind all farm women in Texas used when I was a kid.

I gave my requisition to the Captain in charge of the dump, stating I was medical with the Veterinary Corps and asked what he had to camouflage material with? He missed the Veterinary Corps part and replied that Medical Corps was using the green Putman dye on mosquito netting for their aid-stations and hospital under the trees, and asked what type of material I intended to camouflage? Seeing he was the nervous administrative type I knew my mule problem would be a little heavy for him. So I became evasive and said I needed a case of green dye, letting him think we had lots of netting.

As we headed back to Rodriguez Park I read the instructions on one of the dye packets. They said to bring water to a hard boil, dissolve the dye in the boiling water and, using a long stick, stir the material in the boiling dye water for several minutes until the correct color was reached, keeping the water boiling at all times. Being experienced with mules I knew they would very definitely resent being boiled. Being a resourceful Corporal, the backbone of the Old Army, I knew what I had to do. My henchmen and I scrounged up a 55 gallon drum with one end off from an Ordnance outfit stationed in the park. We placed it on some rocks over a small ditch where air could circulate underneath, filled it nearly full with water and built a fire under the drum. When the water came to a hard boil we emptied all 24 packets of dye, stirring it well. We let the water cool to where we could barely stand it on our hands. Not being able to get the mules into the barrel, we obtained some empty gunny sacks from a Mess Sergeant and, dipping the sacks into the hot dye, started swabbing down the mules. Not appreciating what we were doing, the mules exhibited their well-known mulish disposition, so we took turns holding onto an ear, with a twitch on their nose, while the other two swabbed with green dye.

The dye ran down heavy in their flanks and shoulder joints, across their withers and over their croups. The creases and crevices of their bodies caused light and dark green strips with an overall mottled green color, even on their heads and ears. Even the mules were confused over their appearance. Looking at each other they would perk their ears forward, then lay their ears back and let out a plaintive mulish green bray. (Another historical moment - the first Army Green Bray)

Being proud of a job well done, I sent for Major Wesley Bertz. He couldn't believe what he saw and sent word for all West Pointers in the near vicinity to come and see the first and only green mules in the U.S. Army in the past 140 years.

Alas, their moment in Army history was short-lived. Being good Army mules dedicated to duty, they gave their all by becoming food for the troops. Another fact about mules was discovered at that point. Mules are like Easter eggs: regardless of the color outside, the meat is the same inside.

The resourceful Corporal realized that when a doctor eats all his patients he puts himself out of work. Also, the Corporal discovered he didn't like being shot at without shooting back, so he transferred to Company "K", 31st Infantry, and headed to the front line to become one of the "Battlin' Bastards of Bataan."