H-POW-BMorris

The following, initial letter from Ira “Bud” Morris, is history in itself and included as written.. It is followed by the first installment of his story covering the early period.

Bud was to stay on in the Air Force. During our first phone conversation I mentioned I’d recently had a call from Henry Godman of the 14th who participated in getting MacArthur out of the Philippines. Bud’s voice perked up as he told of when he and a small contingent of AF personnel had served under Godman in Spain in 1956. He said Godmans quite a horseman and told of Godman having set up an American style rodeo in the bull fighting rings of Spain, of it being a flop at first, but revived with the help of the Bull Fighters to become a great success. Proceeds went to children’s aid. Epilogues to the 19th story are also adventures in history, I hope the Rodeo story is also told. DL 03-15-94

Dear Darrell: March 3, 1994

Nice to talk to some one from the 19th. Looking forward to meeting you some day. I didn't ask, but what was your connection with the 19th?

I was assigned to the 30th Bomb, May 1940. It was probably the choicest assignments that a recruit could get, coming out of Aircraft Mechanics School at good ole Chanute. For a guy who had never been farther west than Missouri, to get California as an assignment, then to find out it was a B-17 outfit, too good to be true.

We had seen one B-17 that was flown in from Langely Fld. It caused so much commotion that the commandant came in over the speaker system for the instructors to give a 30 minute break for us to go look at the latest of bombers. You would have thought that Lindberg had just landed, everyone was out in the field to see that sleek looking bird.

Pappy Eubanks, Col. was our group commander. L/Col. Black, squadron, M/Sgt. William Magner, 1st Sgt. M/Sgt Ballard B. Small was our line chief. S/Sgt Al Stewart was my crew chief, he had 15 years in and was coming up for T/Sgt. Between wars, promotions were evidently damn slow.

In July 1941, we knew that we were going overseas. In May, the 19th flew B-17s to Hickham, and stayed there for a month to check out what was to be the 14th Squadron. How, I wanted to make that flight but all the upper grades took that awful mission. Us new men would get to go to Muroc Dry lake as often as we wanted. Dust, dirt, tents, sand, and sleeping bags. I did go as often as I could, could care less about flying pay.

In June, the group split up into three groups, I went to Albuquerque, some went to Barksdale and the others to Tucson. We were given enough travel time to spend five days at home. So, we knew something was up. My home was a small town, Palestine, IL. close to the Wabash. By working a deal with the lst. Sgt. who then was S/Sgt. Ramsey, I got home on Friday the 4th of July and my furlough did not start till the following Monday.

When I got back, eight of us went in to see the Squadron Commander, Major David R. Gibbs, West Point Graduate, and I think (?) came into the Air Corps in 1935. We asked to be transferred to the Flying Tigers. Then there was some deal where you could be legally transferred to the Flying Tigers, however, if you were caught by the Japanese, the Air Corps didn't know you. If you got out alive, you could come back, with continuous service time, sort of like the TV show, Mission Impossible. Pappy Boyington was one that did it.

Our reason for wanting to go over there was a chance to get checked out as pilots. We did not have the required two years of college to be eligible for cadets and we figured that might be a way to sneak in the back door. Naturally our request was turned down. Maj. Gibbs said that we would be taking a little trip of our own soon and that he would need everyone of us.

Looking back, they the powers to be, knew that the Philippines was a possible target for the Japanese and wanted to put some bombers over there. We had B model aircraft, then we got C-Model, the only difference I could tell in them was that the B model had no cowl flaps. This was great for maintenance as the cowl flaps were buggers to keep adjusted. However, the engines were overheating and we soon got the D models, which besides updating had cowl flaps. These are the ones we took to Clark, we really thought we were hot stuff and the Japanese fighters would be no match for us. We soon learned too late that without power turrets and a tail gun, we were dead ducks.

Darrell, I guess you have got all the stories of the big SNAFU of us getting caught on the ground. We got hit about 8 1/2 hours after Pearl Harbor was bombed. Not loaded with anything, ammo, bombs or gas for a mission. Shorty Wheelus, then a lst Lt. and his crew were waiting word for a mission, Pappy, contacted MacArthur’s headquarters twice and got nil. They were finally sent on a reconnaissance mission, one of the only aircraft that did not received some damage or destroyed.

We, went from qualified Air Corps personnel to Infantry after 45 minutes of the first air raid. We were bitter and never got a true answer from anyone as to why we just sat there and got wiped out. The only squadron that escaped that first day was Maj. Rosie O'Donnel’s squadron, that was sent to Mindanao about a week before, (not sure of the time, it may have been longer).

The pictures enclosed were taken by Dick Bone, Sgt. squadron clerk. He kept the negatives hid in a can under some tobacco the entire war, in prison camp. These I got from our Mess Sgt's widow, Elva Robinette. I have a set of 8 by 10s but figured these would be cheaper and easier to copy, if not let me know and I will get the others to you.

Had some printing on the back of each picture but will try and explain it better, corresponding with the numbers on back.

Fig 1 Evacuating the Mayon, after the Patrol bomber left, we thought that one bomb had creased the side of the ship and feared it might sink, plus wanting to get the hell off that target.

Fig 2 30th Sqd personnel on beach of Mindoro Island, Philippines

Fig 2 Looks like mostly 30th personnel, the one sitting down on the left is Jim Greene, our cook, he was later on a ship that was sunk off Zamboanga, there were 750 Americans aboard and 80 survivors, Robinette also survived that sinking. This was September 1, 1945. Jim, is still living, legally blind, living in Suwanee, GA. and cooks for the Atlanta Falcons. I saw him last year.

The one standing up facing the camera, next to Greene, is John Ferry, don't know what happen to John, but he never made it back. He didn't go to Japan with us and just haven't run into anyone that can account for him.

Fig 3 some more of our outfit that just got ashore. Can only verify one guy in this one, Andy Anderson, far right, he never made it back either, died in prison camp.

Fig 4 Probably the last picture taken of our Squadron Commander Maj. David R. Gibbs, 0-17167.

Maj Gibbs was sure mad as hell that first day when we couldn't go bombing. He flew our airplane over and even though I was not on flying pay, due to having a 1st. Class Air Mechanic rating, which was T/Sgts base pay of $84. He said in the middle of November, that I would make the first mission which would be either Formosa or the Japanese convoy which was between us and China. If he knew the targets, you know dam well that MacArthur and Roosevelts staff knew them. Don't recognize any others in this picture. By the way, we landed at Clark, November 4, 1941., They had already dug trenches and machine gun emplacements all over Clark, so you can see, we were preparing for conflict then.

Fig 5 This picture shows a Philippine 3rd. Lt. giving us bayonet practice.

George M. Jenkins, 6277842 Fig 6 Tagalong, Mindanao

We were issued, WW I Enfields, with 25 rounds of ammo after landing on Mindanao, no bayonets. These were Springfield, 1935 models, with bayonets that were traded to us for the purpose of bayonet drill. After a couple of weeks, they gave us back the Enfields, now we knew something about how to use the bayonets and once again, did not have any. We were front line defense on Bugo Bay, The Japanese probably delayed the invasion when they learned that the Americans had crack troops waiting for them. I think that according to Army manuals we were short some 1500 men for the sector we were set up for front line defense, never slept too well after learning that. Always wanted to thank the guy for looking that bit of information up.

No, we were not picking up shells but trying to fix some sort of bunkers on the sector of river that the squad I was in and later put in charge of. We figured that the Japanese would cross that river and my plan was to fire a couple of the 18 rounds I had left and the same for the squad and make a hasty retreat if possible. No heroes where we were.

Hope this letter was not too boring and helped you in someway. Will keep in touch and if ever down your way will give you a call and hope you do the same if up this way.

Had intentions of ending this letter here, but around 2:30 this morning, one of my wake up periods, got an idea, which I should have thought of before. To send you a tape of an interview I was part of with a Japanese producer of a TV show in Los Angeles. She and another producer of the TV and radio station out of New York, had contacted me in 1990, to do an interview.

Of course, I was very apprehensive to do any interview with Japanese personnel. They asked me about a priest that came into Camp Omori, Christmas time in 1943, to hold Mass. At the time of the first call, I could not remember a Japanese priest coming into Omori, but did recall one coming into Sumidagawa, the last camp I was in.

Being a Protestant, I thought that my good friend, whom I spent every day of prison life with, from our surrender in Mindanao, May 11, 1942, to August 29, 1945, would be a better subject. His name, Charles Butterworth, from Rosie's outfit, 14th Squadron. Charlies a Catholic, had acted as Altar Boy, for that Mass. I also told her, Reiko Posner, from Intermix, Inc. Video New Network, International, that we were having a reunion in San Francisco the next May and she could probably do pretty good getting interviews there. Mind you, I was still reluctant to do any interview and was proceeding on this one with caution.

I was somewhat surprised when I arrived in San Francisco and found that Reiko was set up with a camera crew in one of the rooms. She contacted me as soon as I arrived and I agreed to the interview. As you can see by the tape, they started without me. Hope this too, will give you some idea what we put up with. The one story about the boss Esoyama, is true and it is my belief that if Charlie had not talked him into giving me a job, I might not have made it. He, his wife and co-workers, treated us a humans not prison slaves.

I was going to make a copy of this tape but never got around to it, my son did make a copy but I would like this back after you are through with it.

There are about 60 personnel still living from the ole 30th. Some of them have been after me to get another mini-reunion organized. We had two, one in Modesto and the other at March AFB, the latter one being two years ago. It is possible that we may have another one down that way in 1995, will keep you informed.

Will bring this to a close for now, best to you and your wife.

Sincerely

Bud Morris

{---------------From Luzon to Mindanao---------------|

On approximately the 28th of December, a few hundred of us from the 19th boarded an inter-island boat, the Mayon. We were hoping that they would not try to make it to Australia in that boat, but were feeling mighty glad to be getting off of Luzon.

The 30th was assigned to the aft top deck. We were informed that in case of an attack, we would use the rafts on top deck of the ship, as we had no life rafts assigned to us. They made it sound so easy, "just grab a raft as the ship goes down". That did not do anything to raise our morale. One thing that did make sense was not to let the enemy know how many troops were aboard the ship as they would surely call for fighters to come in and finish us off. We were under a canvas cover which was stretched over the aft deck and were also told not to fire at any patrol planes.

At 10AM, the next morning, we were briefed by our adjutant, Lt. Elmore G. Brown, who had assumed command. Our Squadron Commander was feared missing from a flight from Clark Field to Mindanao. There were several rumors as to his disappearance, crashed in a storm, shot down by enemy fighters etc. He had left in a B-18 and a slow lumbering bird that it was, had no defense against the Zeros.

Lt. Brown, accompanied by our Line Chief, M/SGT. Ballard B. Small, told us that we were not to abandon ship unless he gave the orders to do so. Bales, I and others, said piss on him and his orders, if the ship gets hit, we are going over the side.

That afternoon, around 1:30, we had just eaten the noon meal and even aboard that crowded ship, we had a decent meal. I think, Robinette our Mess Sgt. was in charge of feeding everyone. We had the top Mess Sgt. in the 19th and he could fix meals from field stoves just as if he was in the Waldorf Astoria. Anyway, far off we spotted a plane, we were hoping it was one of ours when someone with binoculars yelled, "it's a Jap patrol plane, I can see the flaming a-- hole on it". Our way of identifying the enemy. We were told earlier not to panic and start diving overboard in case of an attack or we would give way that their were troops aboard. The top deck had a canvas cover over it. The plane made a bank and started a bomb run on us.

You talk about your life flashing before your eyes, well mine sure did. At that time, I wished that I had listened to two of my friends back in Palestine and waited to be drafted, perhaps I wouldn't be in this situation. In fact, I wish I was anyplace but on that damn boat, once again, with no means of defense, just lay and sweat it out.

It would have been quite a swim to the island and with the current, doubtful that I could make it, although I was considered a pretty good swimmer, but against the tide????

We had no protection but to lay down and pray to God that we would make it through this. I knew enough about concussion that I did not want to be in the water unless they hit the ship. He made his first run and dropped one bomb, it missed us by twenty yards or so. I forget which one of the four runs he made on us but one bomb seemed to slide right down the side of the ship and I thought sure we were hit.

It was shortly after that we heard a call from over the side for help. When we looked over there was our lustrous brave acting Commander and our line chief M/Sgt Ballard B. Small in the water. We knew then that we had no leadership what so ever. He was yelling for some one to throw them a rope. I remember Bill Porter getting a coil or rope and wanted to throw the whole thing overboard. He was finally convinced that we should try and save them and reluctantly we threw them one end. Brown started to get the rope first but was told to put it around another officer that seemed to be floundering in the water.

He gave the rope to the other officer which grabbed it with both hands and without using his feet, he held on to that rope and we pulled him up on deck. He used the last of his strength and even though the Mayon was just an inter-island boat it was quite far to the water from the deck. We found out later the officer was from finance and died about an hour later from concussion.

We learned a lot about concussion, remember that one shelter made out of 55 gallon drums, I told you that it had one opening. We found out that other shelters with one opening were a death trap. If a bomb landed in front of that opening the concussion would suck the guts right out of anyone in it. We re-devised the shelters after that with two openings.

Back to our brave leaders, we finally got them up on deck. Small wasn't in too bad of shape and I know now that it was the last bomb when they went overboard as neither one of them suffered from any concussion. Brown was carried below deck on a stretcher and although he was to remain our Commander, he no longer had any respect from the men. He stayed in the service and made, L/Col. but ended up in psycho ward and eventually passed away. Small got to Australia with him and was back in the states by December, 1942.

We begin to evacuate the ship but not in an orderly fashion, all hell broke loose. Guys were trying to launch the life rafts with out knowing how, tipping them over, losing the oars and others were jumping in the water. I was not about to get in that water, only as the last resort, fearing that the plane had radioed that he had seen troops evacuating the ship.

At that time I was pretty well fortified with rum that I had drunk between bomb runs the plane had made on us. I was laying next to Buck Bales, whom I called Bunkie. He slept next to me at March Fld. and sort of took me under his wing. He had three years in the Cavalry prior to his enlistment in the Air Corps. and I did learn from his experience. In case I was late coming in from the flight line, or town, he would make up my bunk and especially on inspection days, would see to it, that I had every thing covered.

When we were issued gas masks he always said that if they got that close, we were done for. He threw his gas mask out and carried booze in the place of the gas mask. He told me that you could get two quarts in there and it would do a hell of lot more for morale than a gas mask. By the time the Japanese Plane had made its first run, and the last, I helped him kill a quart of rum. I know that Porter and McCool had some drinks out of it also. Going to conventions hearing the exaggerated stories, there at least fifteen guys that say they had some of that rum. He did convince me that a snort in the time of a panic situation helped to relieve the anxiety and pressure. When we got to Mindanao, I got rid of my gas mask and carried booze or beer when I could get it.

Back to the Mayon, there was pure pandemonium, no one had control and it was every man for himself. McCool had managed to get overboard and into one of the life boats, but no oars. I looked over the side and they were paddling with their helmets and slowly heading out to sea instead of toward the island. I thought that would be the last time I saw any of them and was glad that I wasn't with them.

No planes came back after us and eventually some order was restored and the life boats that were launched properly with oars intact started coming back after the rest of us. For years I was sure that we went to the island of Panay, but later convinced that it was the other island of Mindoro.

I have pictures taken that day by a good friend in our squadron Sgt. Dick Bone. He got a picture of the life boats leaving the Moron and three of us on the island. He kept several pictures taken during the war all through prison camp, hidden under some tobacco.

Before it got dark and we found out that there was minimal damage to the ship and it was still seaworthy (?) we were taken back aboard. It was nerve racking trip from there on as we expected to be attacked again, either by airplanes or submarines. No one slept much and as we had drank all of Buck's rum we had to rely on coffee.

We made it to Mindanao with no further attack from the Japanese and docked at Cagayan.