After our June 7 broadcast of D-Day Reunion we received many stories from all over the nation. We will continue to add stories as they come in. (Email stories to now@thirteen.org)

Again, we encourage you to do an oral history for the Veterans History Project. We have easy-to-follow — instructions.

We have received stories from veterans and children of veterans, refugees and children of refugees and those affected on the homefront and abroad. They make for excellent reading.

D-Day Stories — Long Lost Friends — Brothers in Both Theaters — Refugees — Memories of the Philippines — Second Thoughts — Nagasaki — Homefront Heroes — Thanks Again — From the Blitz to 9/11

MEMORIES OF THE WAR IN THE PHILIPPINES

Memoirs of an Allied Soldier in the Phillipines

I was inducted into the service in March, l943 and after making one trip to England in a large 93 ship supply convoy as a radioman in the Armed Guard (small navy crews on merchant ships), I was transferred to the Pacific Theater in the Amphibious Forces as a radioman on an LST.

After several supply trips between New Guinea, Solomans, and the Marianas we sailed to Biak Island towards the end of September, l944 and took aboard fully equipped combat troops. I remember this island as appearing very pretty from the harbor in spite of its having the dubious distinction of straddling the Equator.

The initial landing in the Philippine Archipelago was Leyte Island, about midway down the chain on the Eastern side. D-Day was October 20 and we arrived on D plus 3. We beached in a long row of LST's (about 15 or 20) in front of Tacloban, the capital city of Leyte Island. Since there was only limited resistance, we did not immediately back off the beach after discharging troops and equipment through the bow doors. We were able to watch much of the activity on the beach.

We didn't know until later that a pivotal naval battle of the war was taking place some distance offshore as a Japanese armada attempted to decimate the toehold achieved in the recent Leyte landing. Our first clue was seeing light and heavy cruisers steaming into the harbor with their decks piled high with empty shell casings.

Sometime earlier our ship had been outfitted with an emergency operating room and sick bay, staffed by one doctor. As smaller ships straggled in from the battle we took aboard many naval pilots who suffered various injuries as a result of ditching their planes in the sea. Their flight squadron was attached to the mini-carrier, Princeton, and returning from their mission, they found that their ship had been sunk.

We then became part of an assault force to invade Mindoro Island on the western side of the archipelago which would effectively cut the Philippines in half. Our convoy sailed down the Surabei Strait which had been renamed "the iron-bottomed sea" because of all the sunken Japanese ships resulting from a pivotal engagement a month earlier.

The landing at Mindoro immediately turned into a nightmare. The Japanese sent waves of fighters and bombers down from Luzon (Clark Field complex) to intercept the landing attempt. We were preparing to beach when the planes came in. At least our flotilla of LST's presented a scattered target rather than being all in a row on the beach. One zero (fighter plane) went after each ship. Two LST's several hundred yards on our port and starboard sides seemed to be hit almost simultaneously. Both ships immediately became flaming infernos from bow to stern as shells stacked near all the deck guns began to ignite. Exploding shells were flying in all directions.

I watched from the wheelhouse as our zerobankedd and turned to make its strafing run on us. In addition to wing cannon, each zero plane also carried one 500 pound bomb. As our antiaircraft guns were firing away the rest of us at our battle stations watched the bomb being released as the plane began to come in over the bow. However, the bomb only partially released and remained dangling under the fuselage as the plane flew overhead. I never noticed what happened to the plane.

The sea around us was filled with bodies and others still alive who had either jumped or were blown off the two ships. Since we were equipped with the emergency operating room small boats began picking up survivors and bringing them to our gangway. Our surgeon began recruiting people to assist in getting the wounded to his sick bay. He gave me a pad to forms and a pencil and told me to stand at the top of the gangway to get identifying information from each patient as he was brought aboard. In a moment he took back the pad and pencil and gave them to someone standing near me. I can only guess that he looked at the expression on my face and decided I wasn't a good candidate. I will always remember the voice of the skipper of one of the two fiercely burning ships close by us, when he asked over the voice radio for permission to abandon ship. He calmly recited his ship' condition; dead in the water, ammunition magazines exploding on the deck; all personnel either dead or overboard. It almost sounded like he was asking his teacher permission to leave the room.

On our way back to our homeport of Leyte the doctor lost several of his patients and we had burial-at-sea ceremonies, with the sealed and weighted body bags slipping over the side from beneath the Union Jack. All available crew were lined at attention as taps were played.
Charles Kelleher

Serving in the Philippine Army: A daughter's recollection

My father served in the Cavalry Division of the Philippine Army in WWII. He was at the Fall of Bataan and in The Death March and was imprisoned at Capas. He would tell stories — mostly to my brothers, but I would eavesdrop — about these times:

• how, confined to a foxhole, in the final days before the Bataan surrender, one could not even light a cigarette in the darkest hours of the night, for fear of being spotted by Japanese snipers.
• of hearing bullets whizzing past your helmet and being grateful you're able to hear them. ... of being so afraid, you'd wet your pants if there was any liquid left in you to let out.
• of stopping thirsty fellow soldiers from drinking the muddy water in a road puddle where tadpoles are swimming - because dysentery would be the sure after effect of such an act.
• of seeing the Americans separated from the Filipinos and treated even more brutally by the Japanese captors.
• of summoning his last strength to carry his commanding officer piggyback because the officer was weak from dysentery, but to let him fall back is to consign him to death by bayoneting.

Now, I try to give to appeals from organizations like VFW and DAV in memory of my father and of all those who fought for our freedom and never got any help afterwards.

There were other stories, too - of a happier nature. When the Americans came back. It seems a group of US soldiers were billeted in our town of Cabuyao, Laguna in Luzon, the biggest island. My parents and great aunts spoke about the kindness' and friendliness of these mostly young Americans - but especially of three whose names I remember mentioned: - Boyd Wolfe, Pat - an Italian, who was a quartermaster and somebody called Red - who must be Irish - and who seemed to be a fun-loving guy who would pick a partner up at the drop of a hat to dance!

I've been in the USA since 1971 and I've regretted not making an effort to locate these guys. I am left wondering if they might still be alive and somewhere here in the US. My father's name is Virgilio "Totoy" Celis, Jr.
Vicky Go, New Jersey