The Bataan Death March, Story of a Survivor
It was December 1941. Eight-year old Romy was in the two-story house where he and his family lived in the US military compound in Fort McKinley (now known as the Fort Bonifacio Global City). He couldn’t go out and play with his four brothers as was natural for little boys. Outside, bombs and firearms were exploding. A few day ago, on December 8, 1941, the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor and ten hours after that, Clark Airfield, in Pampanga, Philippines. World War II had begun and it had come to the shores of the Philippines and the country was under attack by the invading Japanese troops.
Buenaventura, Romy’s father, gathered his wife and his five sons. He was already in his battle gear uniform. He told his family that they had to evacuate to his hometown in Lian, Batangas because Manila was under siege and declared an open city.
“But Papa,” Romy said, “how are we going back to Lian? There are no buses or cars to take us. And how about the baby?”
“Your uncle Tio Pito and your cousin Kuya Tino have come to fetch you,” answered Buenaventura. “I have managed to find a taxi to bring all of you. You will be safe in Lian.”
“Us? But what about you Papa? Are you not coming with us?”
“No, son.. I have to stay here and fight the Japanese and defend our country. I am relying on you to take care of your mother and your brothers.”
That was the last time Romy saw his father in months. He and his mother and brothers were whisked off to Lian where they were relatively safe from the war. But life was hard in Lian for the family. Food was scarce and the growing boys had to make do with eating rice mixed with corn – although it was mostly corn with a little rice. His youngest brother Ray was only a baby and needed milk. When his milk bottle broke, he had to drink his milk from a tea kettle the snout of which was fitted with the bottle nipple.
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