Through Fire and Through Water.

CHAPTER XIV
HOME AT LAST

Late in the evening of the day of our rescue we received the suitcases that had been left behind on the shores of the Laguna de Bay near Los Banos. The men had returned in the amtracks and had recovered all the baggage we left there. I was very happy, for in my suitcase were the few books and pictures that remained of life in the land of China and also of school days and early life.

The internees from Los Banos had many days ahead to remain at this base hospital and camp for refugees, but all the while they were eating the nourishing food and gaining strength. The rows of two storied, dormitory type buildings formed the sides of a square around a wide open field, on one side of which large tents had been set up with beds for wounded soldiers, most of whom were able to walk. We enjoyed visiting with them and hearing them tell of their many exciting experiences.

The battle for Manila was still going on, and we were close to front lines on either side of us, if indeed there were any front lines. Bands of Japanese roamed over the countryside. The forts on Corregidor prevented ships entering Manila Bay, therefore all supplies for our area had to come by truck in long convoys down from Lingayen Gulf. They skirted the east side of Manila City, where they very often had to fight a way through. When the Japanese made a counter attack this supply line was cut completely, and for several days all our supplies had to be brought in by air, being dropped into this center field with colorful parachutes.

I did not stay long in this camp however. After a little over a week had gone by it was announced that all single and unattached men, who wished to, might leave for the United States the following day. After talking it over with the three Bateman children, we agreed it would be best for me to go ahead and arrange a place for them in the United States, and they would come on later. They were all together on one passport. I quickly got ready, and early next morning our group of about fifty men were taken by truck to Nichols Field in the edge of Manila City. Not far away we could see the battle in progress, and even while we waited the shells from Japanese guns were exploding on the far side of the airfield as they vainly strove to destroy it.

The day was Saturday, March 3, 1945, and near noon we took off from Nichols Field in a big, lumbering C46 transport plane, sometimes called the "flying boxcar. After flying over the city we landed briefly at Quezon City airport, then again took to the air and headed westward. We could plainly see the smoke and explosions down below, where fighting around the Intromuros continued on. Our plane then landed for fuel on Mindoro Island near San Jose, but because of bad weather we were ordered to remain over night, stopping there in a transient camp. Because the weather did not improve we had to remain in Mindoro over Sunday, but on Monday we were again in the air, and after a couple of hours we arrived safely on the Island of Leyte, landing on the beach near the town of Tacloban, and trucks took us to another transient camp.

The beach air strip at Tacloban was made of steel mats fastened together. This was the location of the first American landings in the Philippines, and we were told then that this was the busiest airstrip in the world. For long distance round about there had once been a forest of coconut palms, but now they were almost all just tattered trunks. Open spaces had been made by bulldozing the trees into great long piles, and buildings had been quickly set up. Because of much rain there was mud everywhere. Here at this camp we were all completely outfitted in army clothes, and we ate the regular army food together with the soldiers staying there, so we began to gain weight fast. We all could still never get enough to eat, and everything tasted so good. We could not understand how the soldiers could get a mess kit full of food, eat a few bites of it and then throw the rest into the garbage. They all complained of the taste of the mashed potatoes and also of the eggs made from powdered egg, but we never found anything to complain about.

After about a week in Leyte we were all taken down to the beach where along with many soldiers on furlough we went on board an LST. This ship could have carried many trucks or tanks or other heavy equipment, but this was a load of people. In it we were taken out to our ship, anchored in the bay, the army transport, USS Admiral Capps, and we all climbed on board. There we waited another three days at anchor before our ship sailed. Escorted by two destroyers and all the while constantly zigzagging in course we slowly made our way south. The escort of destroyers was with us until we reached the Island of Manus, which is one of the Admiralty Islands, lying north of New Guinea. From there our ship launched out alone on the broad Pacific and increased its speed to twenty knots, which was not nearly fast enough for the many passengers so anxious to get home. Besides our group of men there were quite a number of former internees from Santo Tomas on board, along with hundreds of homesick soldiers, sailors and also marines all going on furlough. Though our quarters were cramped and hot, yet spirits were high as every day we drew nearer the good old U.S.A.

After about ten days on the ocean we reached Hawaii, and there our ship paused outside Pearl Harbor long enough to take on FBI and Immigration officials and then it continued on its way toward the mainland. We were all examined and passed by these officials before we reached San Francisco, so we met with no delay when we came to land. April 8, 1945, was the day we saw land. The morning began with showers of rain but later cleared away to reveal the coastline ahead, and then the beautiful white buildings and clean streets of San Francisco came into view. There also we could see the high towers of the Golden Gate Bridge losing themselves in the bunching clouds. When I had last seen this bridge in 1936 it was yet uncompleted. The bell for breakfast was ringing when we sailed through the Golden Gate, but no one went below, and just as we passed under that great span a loud shout went up from all on board. We were home again!

Someday before long I hope to be sailing in through another Golden Gate, that gate to our heavenly home, and then I believe I shall hear a shout such as I have never heard before.

Inside the bay a launch loaded with waving and shouting people came up alongside our slowly moving ship, and everyone crowded to the rail to look down at them. With difficulty I was able to squeeze into a narrow space where I, too, could see, and I tried to examine carefully from my position everyone on the launch. I thought perhaps some of my folks might be there, perhaps my youngest sister, Ruby. My father, now 78 years old, I thought would be too old and feeble to come. I could see no one that seemed familiar, though an elderly man with a hat raised his arm and waved hopefully. I thought, "Well, after the ship docks Ill just catch a bus over to Concord to where the folks live."

After the gang plank was lowered and we were permitted to go ashore I was down on the pier in no time with my bags ready for inspection, then suddenly out of the crowd my own father rushed up and threw his arms around me. Though older, he was still well and strong. The customs inspector shook hands with him, marked a quick OK on my bags and let me go. Outside a car was waiting with friends to take us over to Oakland, where the Missionary Baptist Church was having a fellowship and a basket dinner that day. I was asked to speak for them, but I could say very little. There are joys impossible to express, even as Peter says of the joys in Christ Jesus:"Whom having not seen, ye love; in whom, though now ye see him not, yet believing, YE REJOICE WITH JOY UNSPEAKABLE AND FULL OF GLORY."

"All things work together for good to them that love God." This is a promise that I feel sure is true. Some may think that those days in internment were terribly hard, but I think that sometimes we have met with harder trials here in the homeland, where we have had trials of false friends and deceivers in the work, when those whom we had loved turned against us. But I am able to rejoice in it all, for we have been made to lean harder upon that Friend that sticketh closer than a brother. I am forced to realize that He is the only source of strength, and that I and any other true missionary as well as true Baptist Churches are all sufficient in Him, our Lord Jesus Christ. (Col. 1:10)

Thank God for the trials. They are often the richest treasures that God can give us in this life. The apostle Peter has said, "That the trial of your faith being much more precious than gold that perisheth." -- ( I Peter 1:7) Now I understand, and I believe that I would not take even a million dollars for the trials of my faith.