Several hundred of the 1,500 military personnel trained as infantrymen were Marines. The vast bulk of these Marines were members of the 4th Ma-rines, which had come to the Philippines from Shanghai in November 1941, had participated in action against the Japanese on Luzon, on the Bataan Penin-sula, and had been ordered to Corregidor. There were also some Marines who had been stationed, prior to the war, at various U.S. Navy installations in the Philippines, then ordered to Corregidor.
The Coast Artillerymen of the Corregidor garrison had done their job, and more than could have been reasonably expected of them. There was ample am-munition for their "disappearing rifles" (which were Coast Artillery cannon that rose on their carriages to fire, and then lowered into a protected position) and for their enormous mortars; and it had been a rare moment in recent days when the roar of American cannon could not be heard, or the concussion of their firing not felt.
But it was not enough to stop the Japanese. And one by one, many of the guns and the gun positions, previously believed impregnable, had been de-stroyed.
The clerks and technicians, pressed into service as riflemen, had done their duty too, performing it (in the private opinions of many Marines) far better than expected.
But everybody was weak-they had been on half rations for more than six weeks, and half rations had recently been halved again-and exhausted; and they suffered from the ceaseless concussion of incoming Japanese artillery.
"Somehow, I don't like the idea of burning them in here."
"We could carry them outside, Sir."
"Would that be a signal that it's over?" Colonel Howard asked rhetori-cally, and then, without giving Paulson a chance to respond, changed the sub-ject.
"I took a look at the records yesterday, before ordering them burned," he said. "The personnel rosters. We seem to be carrying an extraordinary number, even under these circumstances, of personnel missing in action."
"Yes, Sir."
"You would know more about this than I would, Major. Would you say some of the missing personnel went-how do I say this?-went missing pur-posely?"
"If you're asking if there has been an attempt to avoid hazardous service, Sir, I would say no."
"Would you say, then, Major, that some of those Marines those now-burned reports carried as 'missing' absented themselves in the belief that they would thus be able to continue waging war against the Japanese in some other location?"
"I believe that is entirely possible, Sir."
"And how many of those who went purposely missing would you think made it through the enemy lines to someplace where they could indeed con-tinue to fight?"
Major Paulson had a sudden clear mental picture of two Marines: First Lieutenant James B. Weston and Sergeant Percy Lewis Everly.
"There's no way of knowing, Sir. Some, obviously, will have made it. And some, obviously, will have been killed or captured."
"Purposefully absenting oneself, purposely going missing, ordinarily would be something disgraceful. At the very least, even with the best inten-tions, it could be considered AWOL; at the worst, desertion in the face of the enemy."
"Yes, Sir."
"Right now, Paulson, if I had the opportunity, I think I would go over the hill myself. Burning the colors, hoisting the white flag..."
"I thought about it, Sir," Paulson said.
"But you stayed."
"Disobeying an order is hard for me, Sir."
"And for me," Howard said. "How would you propose we do this, Paul-son?"
"I've got something," Paulson said, and produced a quart-sized tin can. "I don't know what it is, it's to clean a mimeograph machine. But it's highly combustible. I suggest, Sir, that we pour it on the colors and ignite it. I'll hold the staffs, if you like, or..."
"There's enough for both the regimental and national colors?"
"Yes, Sir. And they're silk, Sir. Once they're ignited, they'll burn."
"I don't want to do it in here, in this goddamn tunnel, like a trapped rat," Colonel Howard said. "Would you be willing, Major Paulson, to go with me to the main tunnel entrance?"
"Yes, Sir. Of course, Sir."
Colonel Howard nodded. He stood up and went to the two flags behind his desk. He took the national colors from its holder, held it horizontally, and then twisted the staff until the flag was wrapped around the pole. He handed the furled colors to Paulson. Then he repeated the furling action with the red regi-mental flag of the 4th Marines.
When he was finished, he preceded Paulson down the lateral tunnel, and then down the main tunnel to the entrance. As they approached the entrance, they could now hear small-arms fire, the solid crack of American.30-06 cali-ber rifle and light machine-gun fire, and the higher-pitched crack of Japanese small arms.
They made their way past the sandbags.
A Japanese artillery shell whistled in and exploded with a crash that made them both cringe.
"The national colors first, I think, Paulson," Howard said. "They are never supposed to touch the ground."
"Aye, aye, Sir," Major Paulson said.
He held his flagstaff horizontally and twisted the staff so that the flag un-wrapped from the staff. Colonel Howard leaned the colors of the 4th Marines against the sandbags, took Paulson's quart can of mimeograph machine clean-ing fluid, and carefully poured half on the national colors.
When he tried to ignite it with his Zippo cigarette lighter, it didn't work, and he had to dip into Paulson's pocket for Paulson's Zippo.
The cleaning fluid ignited immediately, quickly igniting the silk material of the flag. But it took longer for the flag to burn than either Colonel Howard or Major Paulson expected. By the time it did burn, the flagstaff was smoldering, and here and there were other small flickers of flame.
Paulson swung the flagstaff like a baseball bat against a concrete abut-ment, breaking it into two pieces. He picked up the top half, with the gold-plated American eagle, and smashed the eagle against the concrete.
Then he picked up the regimental colors of the 4th Marines, twisted the staff until the flag was unwrapped, and held it out for Colonel Howard to douse with mimeograph cleaning fluid and ignite.
When the colors had burned, he smashed the staff, this time ruining the gold American eagle first, and then breaking the staff.
After that, Colonel Howard and Major Paulson went back into Malinta Tunnel. All other duties assigned to them having been performed, they then picked up their rifles and exited the tunnel to fight as infantry.
[ONE]
Gingoog Bay, Misamis-Oriental Province
Mindanao, Commonwealth of the Philippines
0425 Hours 8 October 1942
The military force that its commander privately thought of as "Weston's Weary Would-Be Warriors" made landfall from Bohol Island at daylight. The commanding officer, First Lieutenant James B. Weston, USMC, in addition to a full beard, wore a wide-brimmed straw hat and a baggy pair of white cotton pants. He was barefoot and bare-chested, and his skin was deeply tanned.