American Valor Quarterly Issue 6 - Spring/Summer 2009 | Page 24

it among ourselves, mention “the birdie said.” Never
say the word “radio.”
This minister was a radioman and had somehow
smuggled this radio from Singapore, though not in
one piece. It had been completely dismantled, and
was carried by about 10 or 12 men in various pieces.
He had wrapped the aerial around his body under his
clothing. After that every Sunday night he gave us a
little news – “the birdie said.”
About the 15th of August, I woke up one morning
and had such a pain in my testicles that it was almost
paralyzing. Someone went and told Doc, he came
over, took temp., etc. With some help I made it to
the M.I. Room; it wasn’t very far. Before the day was
over my right testicle started swelling and hurting. I The Pacific War Memorial on Corregidor to those Americans and Filipinos who gave
their lives in World War II.
was mighty sick. It got larger than my fist and hurt,
the drop came in the fast stream, so some men waded out and got
it did! I could not get my legs together to stand up.
All I could do was lay there with my legs spread out. I couldn’t it. It was about 50% destroyed by water; however, canned goods
figure out what was going on. I’m sure Doc didn’t either, but there and non-perishables were salvaged. They took it to the kitchen.
it was. Well, I lay there over two weeks. If I would lay perfectly still Along with our rice ration, it was the best meal we had eaten for
the pain would let up. If I moved, I could hardly stand it. By this over 40 months.
time “the birdie” kept talking more often, but nothing was definite.
The next afternoon, September 9, the same thing. This time it was
On September 6, if my mind serves me right, the Japanese brought dropped on the mountain. Some of it was brought down part way by
all work details back to the camp at noon. Some of the men said the Japs and given to our “rescue squad,” but it was a small percentage
Jap guards told them we would be free men, but nothing much was of what had been dropped.
done. No food change. Everything was quiet and tense. However,
there were a lot of guard changes. I think this was done because
some guards knew we didn’t like them. Also after the afternoon of
the 6th, we noticed the Jap guards on the barracks roofs, didn’t know
what they were doing. Well, that night our minister made the rounds
and told us the Japs were in the process of surrendering, about the
“A” bomb, and that they were painting the letters P.W. on the roofs.

That night it seemed as though we got a phone call from Tokyo.
I didn’t know they had telephones. Some commander called our
Limey camp commander, and told him that all Americans were to
move out or be at a railroad station about three miles from there
before dark the next day. Well, anyway, this testicle swelling had not
gone down and these two wicks didn’t help. I could not walk. They
carried me out of camp. The Japs did have some vehicles waiting
The next morning at about 11:00 AM, here came three American for the sick, so I rode to the rail station. Most of the men walked.
fighter planes down from the top of the mountain. These were
the first ones we had seen for over forty months. Sometime that Within a few weeks, Schroer was back in the States, where he chose
afternoon a bomber tried to drop food to us. We were part way to be transferred to Schick General Hospital in Clinton, Iowa.
up the mountain and had this swift, wide stream along side of us. Within the next four or five months, he doubled his weight. Due to
They finally dropped it on the beach about two miles from us. The his sicknesses while in the prisoner of war camps, Schroer suffered
guards took some Americans or Britons to get it. By the time they from heart trouble the remainder of his life, never regaining the
got there the Japanese kids (at least they got the blame) had taken health he enjoyed before the war. He recorded his story in 1978.
all the food but left the medical supplies. Doc didn’t lose much He died in 1980 and is buried in Black Hills National Cemetery in
time. That night he had five corpsmen carry me into his office. He South Dakota.
filled up a syringe; each corpsman held a leg, arm or head. I think
this shot was called a “local.” He told me to start counting when His story is a reminder that we should never forget the suffering
he gave me the shot. Well, I got to six, I think. When I woke up, I of the thousands of men who languished in enemy prison camps
was back in my “bay” as it was called. Tried to figure out what was during World War II, and their will to survive their captivity with
going on. I felt okay; then got to feeling around and found that I strength and dignity.
AVQ
had two wicks sticking out of the right side of my sack and all the
way into the right testicle. If I lay really still, I had no pain. But if
I moved, it was terrible.
That afternoon, Sept. 8, we again heard a bomber circling. This time

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