OH! YOU VERY SICK!!

Dear Readers: I know, I have not been posting blogs for several weeks, partly because I had the Upper Respiratory Thingie From Hell for almost two months. And also because I didn’t want to give the whole book away! I have been writing in earnest now that I am feeling like myself again. And when I wrote this chapter, I just had to share it with you!

Everywhere they went, the nurses always considered themselves to be on duty—either formally or informally—anytime they were awake, and even if they themselves were not feeling well. Their consideration for others, Americans and Filipinos and their Japanese captors worked both ways as Sally was about to find out.

A big ship arrived in Davao on the group’s fourth day there. The ship was to take them to Manila. The twenty-nurse group was assigned to D Deck, but the ship wasn’t full, so their cabins were very high out of the water. Sally and many others were sick with malaria, dengue fever, and other gastrointestinal upsets, which were spread by the mosquitos in the Bataan Jungle. The ill nurses were concerned that the high deck would be swaying in open water, causing them to feel like vomiting. For reasons that were not clear, the nurses’ cabins could only be reached from the dock at Davao by climbing a rope ladder. Sally started up that ladder, with a temperature of 103, knowing if she looked down or up, she would get dizzy and throw up, or worse, fall off the ladder. They had to climb while holding a blanket that they had been given to carry what few possessions they still had. The blankets were tied shut, and by this point the nurses were lucky to have soap, a washcloth, and maybe a change of clothes rolled up in that blanket. Sally carried that blanket in front of her as she climbed, and she was careful to keep her gaze looking straight ahead towards the ship so she would not lose the contents of her stomach.

Each of the nurses made it up the ladder and into their assigned cabins. Meals were served in a dining area cordoned off for the prisoners. Fortunately, there were interior stairs—not rope ladders—to reach the dining room. The first day on the water, Sally was lying in a deck chair with a high fever. Another nurse, Evelyn, took it upon herself to care for Sally, bringing her water so she could stay hydrated. Sally wasn’t interested in food at this point, but Evelyn brought her small plates and encouraged her to eat to keep her strength up. The care Evelyn provided Sally was greatly appreciated, but the unspoken part of this arrangement was: what was awaiting these young women when they arrived at the prisoner of war camp?

One day, Sally and Evelyn were sitting out on the deck, and a Japanese medic stopped to talk to them. This was highly unusual, because the Japanese soldiers just didn’t interact with the prisoners, and the two women were a little bit afraid of the medic. He took one look at Sally, and said, “Oh! You very sick!” He spoke with a heavy accent, but he knew English. He had a thermometer and took Sally’s temperature. He showed it to Sally, and it was still about 104 degrees. The medic gently touched Sally’s forehead and quickly drew back his hand.

“Oh! You HOT!”

Then he looked at Evelyn and said, “I got ice. You got ice cap?”

 Evelyn did have an ice cap, which she showed him. The medic led the way, and they disappeared from view. He took her to the ship’s kitchen and spoke to the head cook in Japanese. Then he switched to English so Evelyn would understand what was being said.

“I tell him,” said the medic, “give her all the ice she needs for her sick friend and any others who have fever.”

Evelyn was given ice to put on Sally’s forehead, which helped keep her fever down. The medic appeared again a short time later and gave Sally two little black pills and a glass of water. Then he tenderly lifted Sally’s head off the deck chair pillow so she could swallow the tiny pills. Sally didn’t know what he was giving her, but she took them anyway. She thought about how humane this Japanese man, their captor, was to her and she believed she could trust him.

There was an American woman on the ship who had lived in the Philippines all her life. She had a baby girl about six months old who couldn’t crawl yet. The woman asked Sally if she could leave the baby on a blanket by Sally while the mother went to get her meals. Sally said that would be alright, although she doubted she could even sit up if the baby needed attention.

The first day, the little girl began to cry a few minutes after the mother left. Sally was helpless to quiet the child, but after a few minutes, the medic appeared. He bent over and patted the baby’s back until she stopped crying. The medic backed away and watched the baby with tenderness in his eyes. When the baby began to cry again, the medic patted her back until she stopped. He tried this method several times, but each time, the little girl didn’t stay quiet long. The medic finally picked the child up and cradled her in his arms. He held her head in his left hand and supported her gently with his right hand. As he walked back and forth holding this complete stranger’s baby, he began kissing her on her forehead. He walked and kissed her—so many times, Sally lost count—and finally the child fell into a deep, much needed sleep. The medic put her back on the blanket, folding it around the baby. When he was sure she was sound asleep, the medic reached in his pocket and pulled out his wallet. He opened it and pulled out a small photograph of a baby.

“This my baby,” he said. He pointed at the little girl asleep on the blanket. “My baby boy!” he said beaming. “This his picture eight years ago. I have not seen my baby since he that size.”

Sally saw such tenderness in this man’s eyes, she almost cried.

These were some of many humane acts that the nurses would see from the Japanese during their captivity. Kindnesses were rare, and life in the prisoner of war camp would prove to be very difficult. But light shone in the darkness when individuals—Japanese, American, Filipino—showed compassion for each other when the opportunity arose.

DOWN ANOTHER RABBIT HOLE…

Hello, Dear Readers,

I suspect some of you realized I did not send out a blog post at the first of this week. My reason was simple: I got lost in a rabbit hole and I had to dig myself out. My plan was to do a simple Google search, asking the question: “What was the reason that no efforts were made to rescue the American patients, doctors, nurses, and Filipino staff who were stranded on the Bataan Peninsula and Corregidor Island?” I planned to write my blog about that subject. Starting last weekend, I searched, literally, for days, onto one site and then to another, and another, until…I just gave up. Each site revealed nothing about this thorny question. I tried many way to find out, beginning with the question above, and pursuing each website that looked even slightly promising, only to come up with a blank page and a weary mind. I even tried a different starting point: “What happened after General MacArthur and his wife and son left Corregidor Island?” or “Did General Jonathan “Skinny” Wainwright stay on Corregidor until the Japanese captured them?” Still nothing of the “why” no help came before their capture.

I was reminded of a quote from Albert Einstein: “If we knew what we were doing, it wouldn’t be called research.” And another quote I heard first from Ann Lamont: “If you steal from one source, that’s ‘plagiarism;’ if you steal from many sources, that’s called ‘research.’” This week, I wasn’t stealing from anyone. I just plain reached a dead end.

If I didn’t know better, I might think the answer to my questions were and still are a military top secret, or part of a national security risk. What I have heard, probably from Aunt Sally herself, is that the United States Congress and President Franklin D. Roosevelt and his successor, President Harry S. Truman, chose to channel a good portion of its war efforts into the European Theater, where Hitler and Mussolini were doing there best to lay all the countries flat. And we all know the outcome and the profound loss of soldiers’ lives in the last battles in Europe. May 8, 1945 was called VE Day, or Victory in Europe Day. I did find a quote from President Truman on VE Day, when he cautioned that the Allies “must work to finish the War” by defeating the Japanese in the Pacific. Kudos to Truman for remembering the Pacific Campaigns. Sally and the others at Santo Tomas were freed in February, 1945. But the Japanese did not surrender until August, 1945, when President Truman ordered the atomic bombs to target two Japanese Cities, Nagasaki and Hiroshima.

So here is where my faithful readers can help me out: Whether you are a WWII scholar, or you are among the “trivia challenged,” most of you know how to search the Web through Google or other search engines. If you have a few spare minutes, would you please do a search of your own and send me links to anything you can find? The subject, again, is “What was the reason that no efforts were made to rescue the American patients, doctors, nurses, and Filipino staff who were stranded on the Bataan Peninsula and Corregidor Island?” You may send anything you find to MegCorrigan@comcast.net

Thank you so much! I will continue to let you in on some of Sally’s Philippine Adventures, and I’ll reserve enough “stuff” that you will all want to pre-order the book, sooner than you think!

Grace and Peace,

Meg Corrigan

MERCY MORE THAN LIFE TRIVIA QUIZ

Okay, book lovers, history buffs, and super sleuths! Let’s see how much you remember about Sally’s story! You’ve been reading about her for fifteen weeks now, and I’m pulling the plug on the regular blogs so that some people will want to buy the book when it comes out! So today, we’ll play a little trivia quiz and see how you do! The answers are at the end of the quiz. And no prizes. Just bragging rights if you get them all right.

Question #1: Sally was born and raised in what state?

1. California
2. Ohio
3. Missouri
4. New Mexico

Question #2: What was Sally’s name before she got her nickname?

1. Hazel
2. Daisy
3. Lillie
4. Ethel

Question #3:  Where did Sally do her nurses’ training?

1.  San Diego General Hospital
2. Baton Rouse School of Nursing
3. Memphis, Missouri Nurses’ Training Program
4. United States Army Nursing Corps

Question #4: What date did the Japanese invade the Philippines? (Hint: same time as another attack)

1. January 13, 1947
2. December 8, 1941
3. June 30, 1943
4. September 14, 1942

Question #5: After the Japanese invasion of the northern part of Luzon, Philippines, Sally and the nurses and doctors began moving patients from one hospital to another. Why did they do this?

1. To make the patients more comfortable.
2. Because the Big Wigs decided there were too many hospitals in the Philippines.
3. Because the Japanese were bombing all the hospitals from north to south.
4. Because there wasn’t enough staff to operate all the hospitals

Question #6: Why did the US and Philippine Armies make the decision to move the patients out to the Bataan Jungle?

1. Because of the many resorts there, which could house many patients
2. Because the Top Brass realized there would be no imminent rescue from the Japanese by US troops
3. The patients wanted to go to Bataan
4. The nurses and doctors wanted to go to Bataan

Let’s see how you all did on the quiz! Sorry, no prizes, just bragging rights if you get them all correct.

Question #1: Sally was born and raised in what state?

               c. Missouri

Question #2: What was Sally’s name before she got her nickname?

               d. Ethel

Question #3:  Where did Sally do her nurses’ training?

1.  San Diego General Hospital

Question #4: What date did the Japanese invade the Philippines?

               b. December 8, 1941 (same day as the Pearl Harbor attack, but 18 hours later)

Question #5: After the Japanese invasion of the northern part of Luzon, Philippines, Sally and the nurses and doctors began moving patients from one hospital to another. Why did they do this?

b. Because the Japanese were bombing all the hospitals from north to south.

Question #6: Why did the US and Philippine Armies make the decision to move the patients out to the Bataan Jungle?

b. Because the Top Brass realized there would be no imminent rescue from the Japanese by US troops

Meg Blaine Corrigan is the author of four books: Then I Am Strong: Moving From My Mother’s Daughter to God’s Child, a memoir about growing up in an alcoholic home; Saints With Slingshots: Daily Devotions For The Slightly Tarnished But Perpetually Forgiven Christian, Books One and Two; and Perils of a Polynesian Percussionist, a novel depicting Meg’s time playing drums in a Hawaiian Road Show. Her latest project is to tell the story of her Aunt Ethel “Sally” Blaine Millett, who was an American Army nurse in the Philippines when WWII began. “Sally” joined about a hundred other nurses and 50-some doctors in transporting about two thousand patients from Statsenburg Hospital north of Manila (with more arriving every day) to the jungle on the Bataan Peninsula. They hid the patients from the Japanese for about four months until they were all captured and placed in POW camps for over three years before being liberated by American forces. This blog contains excerpts from the book in real time as Meg is writing and posting a blog once weekly. The book’s title is MERCY MORE THAN LIFE: Sally Blaine Millett, WWII Army Nurse. The anticipated date of publication is spring 2023.Meg’s website is www.MegCorrigan.com . She lives in a tiny apartment in Little Canada, Minnesota with her species-confused tropical plants and her rescue Carousel Horse, Mr. Ed.

A MOTHER’S LOVE

It was a typical summer’s day, as if anything was “typical.” Since the fall of Bataan and Corregidor, Sally’s mother, Altie Blaine, usually suffered silently, trying to be stoic in her approach to life.  Two of her sons had served in WWII. One had driven to the house in Bible Grove from Kansas City, and the other lived nearby, so it was easier to drive up to see her. She and Sally’s father William had sold the farm and moved into a tiny clapboard house in the little village of Bible Grove. Then, William had died suddenly, probably of a heart attack. Altie’s youngest charge found him lying inside the shed. There was no ambulance, so Altie called on neighbors and friends to help get William in somebody’s truck and head for the nearest hospital. But Altie already knew that he was gone. She could tell, holding his head in her lap, that there was no movement of him, no rhythmic breathing, nothing to expect hope in this situation. She and her youngest child would be alone in the house. Altie had lost one son in WWI, when he contracted a fever at boot camp. Now, word was the Americans and Filipino soldiers might come to this camp to search everything. Altie tried not to think about her daughter, squalling around in a filthy POW camp…sometimes just preparing a meal for each of them……brought peace and calm. By then the Blaines had soldiered on, literally, and gone about their business, perhaps sending up a prayer or two for Sally’s safety, simultaneously with dark thoughts that things would never change, that the world would be at war for a long time.

The mail came, this day in late summer, so Altie wiped her hands and went to greet the carrier at the front door. The look he had on his face was one of loss and deep sorrow. He handed Sally the letter; he knew it was bad news but he was still hopeful about a prison swam or something to rescue both men and women.

With shaking hands, Altie opened the letter with great care, but she dreaded reading it. Suddenly, a neighbor stood beside her. “Do you want me to read it, Altie?” the woman said.

Altie shook her head up and down.

The neighbor read the contents, which turned out to be a telegram. It read, “Mrs. Blaine, your daughter Ethel “Sally” Blaine is confirmed to be alive and incarcerated at Santo Thomas University. You may write her there. Your most current address has also been obtained by the Japanese.”

Altie could not hold back her tears. The neighbor surrounded her in a big hug, which surprised Altie. But she hugged her back. Altie cried on the neighbor’s shoulder while the woman continued to fill that void a bit when she prayed for Altie and for Sally.

HOPE FOR ESCAPE

Sally and the other nurses weren’t on Corregidor Island long. On April 29^th, two seaplanes arrived to evacuate the remaining nurses and some wives of men stationed in the Philippines. The aircraft were PBYs, or patrol bomber (with the Y being the code assigned to the manufacturer). These were US Navy medium to heavy twin amphibious aircraft used for maritime patrol, water bombing, and search and rescue. In the 1930’s, the Navy invested heavily in developing these long-range flying boats, which did not require runways, instead having the entire ocean to pick up speed to take flight.

An older colonel on the Rock told Sally it was Emperor Hirohito’s birthday, so it was a good day to make a break for it and evacuate the last of the nurses. The colonel said it was pretty certain that the Japanese would not be fighting that day, and sure enough, about noon all the enemy planes disappeared out of the sky. The women were anxious to get the evacuation over with, but the planes had to go through a safety check first. Each plane had a crew of seven, including the pilot and co-pilot, a navigator, a radio operator, a radar operator, and from one to four gunners. All equipment needed to be checked out. Add in a half dozen or more nurses in each plane, trying to get to safety, flying in 100 plus degree heat pouring in the glass windows, and this was not a luxury ride.

“There were twenty of us,” Sally later told friends. “We got on two different airplanes, PBY’s, and that was where I ran into Col. Wood again. He oversaw the women on our plane, and I felt I could trust him.”

The plane Sally left at midnight enroute to Mindanao, an island about 500 miles from Corregidor. The plane needed to take on fuel at several points to make the four-thousand-mile trip to Australia. They place landed at about 4:45 in the morning, and the nurses had a leisurely day to see the shops and outdoor markets in the small town near the dock. The owners of the hotel there told the nurses they could all come to the hotel and get some rest before taking off again at dark. Sally was excited to sleep in a real bed with real sheets, even if it was for a few hours!

“I realized it was the first time I had been out in the daylight without being under gun fire since we fled from Manila!” Sally exclaimed. Was that just four months ago? How could so many crazy things have happened in that short amount of time?

After that night, the PBY crew and the women assembled at the landing dock. They all got aboard, and the first plane took off in a huge spray of water. When they were a safe distance out, the plane Sally was on started to taxi across the water away from the dock, but there were large rocks in the water. The bottom of the plane made a horrible screeching sound as it bumped over some huge boulders. The fuselage now had a gaping hole in the bottom of it. Another nurse had a tennis racket. She got down on her knees and tried unsuccessfully to stem the flow of water. She quit trying when the water came up to her neck. The nurses all stood up in the plane, and the ankle-deep water in the cabin was rising fast. The pilot limped the plane back to the landing dock.

Immediately, everyone deplaned and scattered out across the little town. They agreed to travel with only one other nurse, lest they all be captured at once. Sally and another nurse went back to the hotel, where the owners had been so nice to them. But the owners were reluctant to shelter the women now. Finally, after much hand gesturing because of the language barrier between English and Tagalog, it was agreed the proprietors would put the nurses up for the remainder of that night, if they left early in the morning. But Sally was so frightened, she didn’t sleep at all, even in a real bed with real sheets.

Sally and the other nurse never saw anyone who was on that plane again. And they fully understood they might not be able to hide for long. There was now a target on their backs. The Japanese would surely find them.

HALLOWEEN IN APRIL

The Malinta Tunnel on Corregidor Island has over 24 lateral tunnels that branch off its main tunnel. The vast underground space had been used for storage and bunker purposes until World War II. The project got its name as it was being built in 1922: the crew found the dirt they dug filled with leeches. The Filipino word “malinta,” meaning “many leeches” seemed appropriate.

Now home to thirty-some nurses, it seemed the Tunnel was infected with more than leeches. In the dark, damp system of concrete tunnels, there were many areas in the shadows where uncomfortable thoughts resided: discouragement, fear, debilitating exhaustion, and defeat, to name a few. It was crystal clear now that the American forces were not coming to save the Bataan and Corregidor staff and patients. In Washington, hard decisions had been made to provide most of the available war chest to the battles in Europe, where Hitler and Mussolini were bent on ruling the world. The Philippines, in all its beauty and wonder and golden sunrises, was strategically off the table for help.

The abyss hissed again. That unseen, unexpected cavern of pure evil that taunted many American and Filipino medical staff was never more present than now. Some feared they might tumble right down into the void. Would they all collide with their darker selves someday? Feelings like these were reminiscent of Halloween in the United States. Just some silly notion that fear was lurking everywhere. It was easy to believe that. They would all try not to think those thoughts, and they were kept very busy with new patients being brought in each day. They could also go “topside,” up the ramp and out into the fresh air and sunshine. But could they find time in their already overfilled days? Outside it was nice, calm. They just had to watch and listen for incoming Japanese planes, shooting up the ground they stood on just before they rushed back into the Tunnel.

What was that evil feeling some had experienced, being kept underground in this awful war that would probably not end well? What was that hissing noise?

GET READY, READERS! I’M GOING TO CHANGE UP THE BLOG STARTING MARCH 1ST. I MIGHT NOT SEND A BLOG OUT EVERY WEEK SO I CAN SPEND MORE TIME WRITING. I ALSO CAN’T GIVE THE WHOLE BOOK AWAY BY BLOGGING FROM WHAT I WRITE. I WANT AT LEAST SOME OF YOU TO BUY THE BOOK WHEN IT’S PUBLISHED, HOPEFULLY SUMMER OF 2023. THANKS FOR YOUR SUPPORT AND FOR READING THESE EXCERPTS FROM MY WRITING! Grace and Peace, Meg.

Meg Blaine Corrigan is the author of four books: Then I Am Strong: Moving From My Mother’s Daughter to God’s Child, a memoir about growing up in an alcoholic home; Saints With Slingshots: Daily Devotions For The Slightly Tarnished But Perpetually Forgiven Christian, Books One and Two; and Perils of a Polynesian Percussionist, a novel depicting Meg’s time playing drums in a Hawaiian Road Show. Her latest project is to tell the story of her Aunt Ethel “Sally” Blaine Millett, who was an American Army nurse in the Philippines when WWII began. “Sally” joined about a hundred other nurses and 50-some doctors in transporting about two thousand patients from Statsenburg Hospital north of Manila (with more arriving every day) to the jungle on the Bataan Peninsula. They hid the patients from the Japanese for about four months until they were all captured and placed in POW camps for over three years before being liberated by American forces. This blog contains excerpts from the book in real time as Meg is writing and posting a blog once weekly. The book’s title is MERCY MORE THAN LIFE: Sally Blaine Millett, WWII Army Nurse. The anticipated date of publication is spring 2023.Meg’s website is www.MegCorrigan.com . She lives in a tiny apartment in Little Canada, Minnesota with her species-confused tropical plants and her rescue Carousel Horse, Mr. Ed.

STRATEGIC EVACUATION ARMY STYLE (part three)

The man who said the boat left for Corregidor “a long time ago” followed Sally back to where the other nurses were standing. He knew the senior nurse in their group. They came from the United States on the same troop ship the year before.

“I’ve got a smaller boat that will hold five including me,” he said.

So the five nurses talked about it and decided which one would stay behind. The bags and the people all got on the small boat and began making their way across the channel. The waves were splashing into the little boat, but not enough to dump them all into the water. Sally remembered for years afterwards how beautiful that little island looked that morning.

“Everything was silvery gold, the island itself and the water and the sky,” She said. Corregidor was nicknamed “the Rock,” because of its rocky terrain. That morning, the Rock was clothed in a gilded robe. It was impossible to tell where the water ended, and the sky began. The Rock appeared to be floating somewhere in between. The nurses knew that they were being evacuated to Corregidor because it was very likely the Japanese infantry would invade the open-air hospitals in the southern area of the peninsula of Bataan soon. Their commanding officer, General MacArthur, was long gone. The cavalry wasn’t coming to rescue anybody. They were on their own. But that morning, Sally would always remember the natural beauty all around them, and it was hard to believe at that moment that they were in any danger.

It was a short trip to the peer on the island, and the group got there safe and sound. The nurses were surprised when they got off the boat. Corregidor–The Rock–was a bustling Army installation. There were administrative buildings, a base exchange and commissary, a movie theater, a barber shop, and many more buildings to serve the needs and to entertain US and Filipino troops stationed there. The island was home to dozens of tropical plants and trees, a refreshing backdrop for the austere structures used by the troops.

But Sally and the other nurses were not here to work in the large hospital “topside.” They were on Corregidor so they could escape the enemy’s advances and be safe if—when the Japanese would claim victory. The nurses’ place of employment for the Army was inside the sprawling Malinta tunnel. After their arrival at the pier on Corregidor, the nurses found transportation to the mouth of the great tunnel system.

Inside the Dark Malinta Tunnel

Another group of nurses arrived after Sally’s group, and they reported a similar experience in getting the man with the small boat to take them over the channel. In fact, small groups of nurses arrived all day long, talking incessantly when they reached what would serve as their barracks. Some reported being strafed by bullets from Japanese planes flying low over the little boat.  Luckily no one was hurt, but that was the closest the nurses had come to being part of the very real war raging all around them.

Meg Blaine Corrigan is the author of four books: Then I Am Strong: Moving From My Mother’s Daughter to God’s Child, a memoir about growing up in an alcoholic home; Saints With Slingshots: Daily Devotions For The Slightly Tarnished But Perpetually Forgiven Christian, Books One and Two; and Perils of a Polynesian Percussionist, a novel depicting Meg’s time playing drums in a Hawaiian Road Show. Her latest project is to tell the story of her Aunt Ethel “Sally” Blaine Millett, who was an American Army nurse in the Philippines when WWII began. “Sally” joined about a hundred other nurses and 50-some doctors in transporting about two thousand patients from Statsenburg Hospital north of Manila (with more arriving every day) to the jungle on the Bataan Peninsula. They hid the patients from the Japanese for about four months until they were all captured and placed in POW camps for over three years before being liberated by American forces. This blog contains excerpts from the book in real time as Meg is writing and posting a blog once weekly. The book’s title is MERCY MORE THAN LIFE: Sally Blaine Millett, WWII Army Nurse. The anticipated date of publication is spring 2023.Meg’s website is www.MegCorrigan.com . She lives in a tiny apartment in Little Canada, Minnesota with her species-confused tropical plants and her rescue Carousel Horse, Mr. Ed.

STRATEGIC EVACUATION ARMY STYLE, PART TWO

“Wait! I’ve lost my barracks bag!” Sally cried. “It fell off the fender into the ditch. It’s all my belongings, all that’s left anyway. Can’t you turn around? Or slow down so I can run back and get it”

Many cars in the 1940’s had a depression between the front fender and hood. The group could not get everyone’s baggage in the sedan, or in the trunk. Someone had placed Sally’s bag in that space by the fender, but the road was so bumpy, the bag worked its way out and bounced off, rolling into a ditch on the.” side of the road.

“Please, please, stop. That’s my clothes, let me get my clothes!”

Sally realized quickly that chivalry was dead in the Army. The driver didn’t offer to help Sally get her clothes, but he did stop the car. Sally wormed  her way out of the car and ran as fast as she could to grab the bag and get back before the driver decided to continue. The driver got out too, and went to a little stream to get some water for the car’s radiator. Sally had plenty of time to get back to the car, this time holding the big duffel in her lap for the rest of the trip. The driver stopped three more times, each time at a small stream so he could pour more water in the radiator. But he never asked Sally if she got her bag, and Sally was angry and discouraged at the way he ignored her completely.

The tired, dirty, nervous, disappointed little group of nurses were not in the mood to cheer when their driver finally pulled up to the pier at Mareveles. It took two different drivers in two different vehicles from 8:00 p.m. the previous night until 7:00 a.m. the next morning to go less than 10 miles. When they got to the pier, there were no boats, no activity, no passengers waiting. A couple of Filipino workers were taking a moment to enjoy the end of the chaos.  Sally yelled at one of them.

“Hey, you! Do you know anything about a boat for the nurses to go to Corrigedor?”

“Oh, yes,” said the man. “It came and went a long time ago.”

Sally’s heart sunk. First, they had not been able to board the place to fly to Australia. Then they had to walk to The motor pool, and the first driver ran out of gas. The second driver wouldn’t stop when Sally’s bag fell off the fender, and no one they had dealt with seemed to know what was going on! They could see the island of Corregidor not far away from where they were standing, but what were they supposed to do to get there? Swim?

Meg Blaine Corrigan is the author of four books: Then I Am Strong: Moving From My Mother’s Daughter to God’s Child, a memoir about growing up in an alcoholic home; Saints With Slingshots: Daily Devotions For The Slightly Tarnished But Perpetually Forgiven Christian, Books One and Two; and Perils of a Polynesian Percussionist, a novel depicting Meg’s time playing drums in a Hawaiian Road Show. Her latest project is to tell the story of her Aunt Ethel “Sally” Blaine Millett, who was an American Army nurse in the Philippines when WWII began. “Sally” joined about a hundred other nurses and 50-some doctors in transporting about two thousand patients from Statsenburg Hospital north of Manila (with more arriving every day) to the jungle on the Bataan Peninsula. They hid the patients from the Japanese for about four months until they were all captured and placed in POW camps for over three years before being liberated by American forces. This blog contains excerpts from the book in real time as Meg is writing and posting a blog once weekly. The book’s title is MERCY MORE THAN LIFE: Sally Blaine Millett, WWII Army Nurse. The anticipated date of publication is spring 2023.Meg’s website is www.MegCorrigan.com . She lives in a tiny apartment in Little Canada, Minnesota with her species-confused tropical plants and her rescue Carousel Horse, Mr. Ed.

GET IT RIGHT THE FIRST TIME

By the first of April 1942, the nurses who were ill with malaria and other tropical diseases (which was practically everyone) were ordered off the Peninsula and into the Malinta Tunnel on the nearby island of Corregidor. Not one of the nurses asked to go, and several of them told their superior officers they wanted to stay with their patients. The nurses, even the sickest among them, were distressed about what kind of care the patients would receive if they all left. The doctors (all male, some also ill with dengue fever and malaria) were not being evacuated…yet…but the nurses argued in vain that without the nurses to maintain the bonds they had developed with so many patients.

Henry David Thoreau said, “Could a greater miracle take place than for us to look in each other’s eyes for just an instant?” The circumstances the American and Filipino health care teams found themselves in at Jungle Hospitals 1 and 2 seem impossible to imagine. But the Bataan nurses regarded each of their patients with empathy, humility, and honor. They “looked into their eyes” and saw each one as a distinct human being with a life before Bataan, and hopefully a life after. Some of these men were gravely injured, many to the point where their lives would never be the same.

Everyone on Bataan realized the Japanese were closing in on the US and Philippine troops who still held the front line. They all waited and prayed for General MacArthur to announce that help really was on the way. But after three and a half months in the steaming jungle with dwindling food, medicine, and other supplies, it was the nurses that kept the patients on track to recovery by validating their fear, anxiety, pain (both physical and emotional), and worry. A patient was more than his chart, his diagnosis, his treatment plan, or even his military experience. Much of the nurses’ time was spent “connecting” to each patient, understanding, “seeing” the whole person and building trust. The nurses were determined to “get it right the first time” with each patient.

But the nurses were “soldiers” too, and the day came when they were to be evacuated to Corregidor. And what a nightmare that evacuation was!

Meg Blaine Corrigan is the author of four books: Then I Am Strong: Moving From My Mother’s Daughter to God’s Child, a memoir about growing up in an alcoholic home; Saints With Slingshots: Daily Devotions For The Slightly Tarnished But Perpetually Forgiven Christian, Books One and Two; and Perils of a Polynesian Percussionist, a novel depicting Meg’s time playing drums in a Hawaiian Road Show. Her latest project is to tell the story of her Aunt Ethel “Sally” Blaine Millett, who was an American Army nurse in the Philippines when WWII began. “Sally” joined about a hundred other nurses and 50-some doctors in transporting about two thousand patients from Statsenburg Hospital north of Manila (with more arriving every day) to the jungle on the Bataan Peninsula. They hid the patients from the Japanese for about four months until they were all captured and placed in POW camps for over three years before being liberated by American forces. This blog contains excerpts from the book in real time as Meg is writing and posting a blog once weekly. The book’s title is MERCY MORE THAN LIFE: Sally Blaine Millett, WWII Army Nurse. The anticipated date of publication is spring 2023.Meg’s website is www.MegCorrigan.com . She lives in a tiny apartment in Little Canada, Minnesota with her species-confused tropical plants and her rescue Carousel Horse, Mr. Ed.

PENTHOUSE TO BUNKER

Jean Marie Faircloth had always been accustomed to “creature comforts” beyond most people’s imaginations. She understood from early on that both sides of her family hailed from aristocratic Southern roots, had access to great wealth and all its trappings, and could boast of generations of military service, back to the Confederate Army and before. Jean loved all things military. It seemed that her meeting and falling in love with a man eighteen years her senior, General Douglas MacArthur, was a match made in heaven. She was just the kind of woman MacArthur would have chosen, if such an opportunity had presented itself.

Although she was a petite woman, she was fearless and confident enough in herself to be traveling alone to Shanghai in 1937.  On the ship was another notable passenger, General MacArthur, bound for the Philippines. The General had retired from a distinguished career in the United States Army in 1937, to become a Philippine Army field marshal advising the Philippine government in preparing them for their upcoming 1946 independence from the United States. Making a conscious decision, Jean skipped her trip to Shanghai and got off at Manila, where MacArthur also disembarked. She and the General maintained an exclusive relationship until their marriage two years later in New York, during MacArthur’s trip home to build support for the defense of the Philippines that never came.

Macarthur’s new wife hit the ground running with her vast knowledge of and love for the military. Jean was an asset to her husband’s position in the Philippines. She was a tireless ambassador of goodwill for the Allies in the South Pacific. And she loved every minute of her role. Quiet and composed, serving as a backdrop and constant support for her husband, Jean Evenings were spent at home in the penthouse built for the General at the posh Manila Hotel. Predictable, regimented, the couple lived their days in service to the people of the Philippines and the United States. When their only child was born, Arthur MacArthur IV, named after his paternal grandfather, the parents doted on him and raised him in a loving—and of course—structured environment.

When the Japanese invaded the Philippines, things changed rapidly. Within a matter of weeks, General MacArthur ordered his troops, including all staff from several hospitals, to move to the densely covered jungle where they would be hidden from the Japanese. The plan was to wait for more American troops to arrive to help vanquish the Japanese army and to destroy their aircraft. No one knew the troops would never arrive. Jean set about closing out the penthouse and preparing for the unknown.

How could this be, now, that this family, emergent from money and privilege, found themselves moving to an underground bunker on the Philippine Island of Corregidor, or “The Rock,” as it was called? How could they decide what to reasonably take along—or more importantly, leave behind—of their seemingly limitless possessions? China and silver? What use would they be? Fine glassware and linens? The Japanese bombing broke tougher glass products than theirs, and the Malinta Tunnel’s ceiling shed fine particles of concrete dust each time the enemy fired mortars at the ground above. And what of little four-year-old Arthur’s toys (mostly military trucks and ships and flying machines)? How can he play with them on a cold concrete floor in whichever portion of “the third lateral tunnel from the east entrance” that would be set up for the MacArthur family to live in? But Jean Macarthur squared her shoulders, took a deep breath, and resolved not to complain one bit about their new accommodations. Her husband was the high command of this crazy mission. He was determined to keep the American and Filipino hospital staff and patients, as well as the soldiers fighting on the front line, as safe as possible until American troops came. The sooner the better, she thought. But she was determined to do her part, no matter the cost, to support her husband and keep her son occupied.

MacArthur in the Malinta Tunnel

***

Sometimes she and the other nurses would talk about how they got here, to this unimaginable situation of creating a “hospital”—if one could call it that—in the middle of this senseless war. But all any of them could do was put one foot in front of the other and do the job they were assigned.

The dark black night descended on Hospital #2 in the Bataan jungle. The canopy of foliage had a few open spots—they all knew where those open spaces were and hoped the Japanese knew nothing about them. The stars shone so brightly through those holes some nights that their beauty made Sally want to cry. Her fear had long since been replaced by a profound sadness and a longing for the meager possessions she left behind in Manila. Sally was now a charge nurse, responsible for the day-to-day treatment and care of over a thousand patients at a time. A few months into the outdoor adventure that was Bataan, Sally contracted malaria Refusing to receive any special treatment, she lay on her cot in the middle of the open-air med-surg ward and gave orders.

Meg Blaine Corrigan is the author of four books: Then I Am Strong: Moving From My Mother’s Daughter to God’s Child, a memoir about growing up in an alcoholic home; Saints With Slingshots: Daily Devotions For The Slightly Tarnished But Perpetually Forgiven Christian, Books One and Two; and Perils of a Polynesian Percussionist, a novel depicting Meg’s time playing drums in a Hawaiian Road Show. Her latest project is to tell the story of her Aunt Ethel “Sally” Blaine Millett, who was an American Army nurse in the Philippines when WWII began. “Sally” joined about a hundred other nurses and 50-some doctors in transporting about two thousand patients from Statsenburg Hospital north of Manila (with more arriving every day) to the jungle on the Bataan Peninsula. They hid the patients from the Japanese for about four months until they were all captured and placed in POW camps for over three years before being liberated by American forces. This blog contains excerpts from the book in real time as Meg is writing and posting a blog once weekly. The book’s title is MERCY MORE THAN LIFE: Sally Blaine Millett, WWII Army Nurse. The anticipated date of publication is spring 2023.Meg’s website is www.MegCorrigan.com . She lives in a tiny apartment in Little Canada, Minnesota with her species-confused tropical plants and her rescue Carousel Horse, Mr. Ed.