“If you think that you can do anything about it,” he added, “all the weapons around here are in the hands of the noncoms.”* Volckmann and Blackburn were speechless. Floyd had taken the Fassoth’s humanitarian endeavor and turned it into a cesspool of discontent. By and large, the camp shared Floyd’s attitude. Others had simply given up on the war. Determined to get to the root of the problem, Volckmann questioned Floyd about his hostility towards the officers. Perhaps if Floyd had someone to hear him out, it would be the first step towards improving the current state of affairs. 102
Red Floyd’s story began in early May, when Bernia and the Fassoth’s were building the camp. According to Floyd, the officers had gone around barking orders while not wanting to do any of the work themselves. Fed up with their laziness and condescension, Floyd and the others rebelled. Outnumbered and outgunned, the officers backed down.
While Volckmann did not approve of the insubordination, the story at least gave him and Blackburn an idea of how to fix things at Fassoth Camp. To ease the tension between the officers and the enlisted men, they had to create an incentive for both sides to work together. Blackburn, who by now was feeling well enough to stand, approached Floyd with an offer to improve the camp’s conditions. Floyd was complaining about the dysentery that had taken over the camp when Blackburn chimed in, “If some of the people around here had brains, something could be done about it.” 103
“What do you mean?” Floyd shrieked.
*Noncom (also spelt Non-com) is an abbreviation for “Non-commissioned Officer,” referring to enlisted personnel at the rank of Corporal and above.
“Well, you’re running the camp and there isn’t any such thing as a slit trench or a latrine around here. All you do with your ‘business’ is throw it out of the window. All that great food you cook in there is covered with flies that come off of that stuff, or don’t you understand that?” This, Blackburn explained, was the reason why everyone was coming down with dysentery.
“Well,” Floyd replied indignantly, “who’s going to dig us a trench?” Seizing his opportunity to bridge the officer-enlisted gap, Blackburn said, “Everybody will pitch in and dig. Now can you get your guys to pitch in? Are you willing to pitch in?” That did it. Both officers and enlisted got to work on digging a network of slit trenches that would keep the human excrement away from the living quarters and, more importantly, away from the food. It was the first time they had accomplished anything as a cohesive group.
Beginning with smaller tasks like cleaning the barracks, they went
on to build an entire mess hall as well as a new infirmary. Volckmann, despite his own battles with dysentery and malaria, chipped in wherever he was needed. As the men regained their trust for one another, they began to distance themselves from Red Floyd’s resentful leadership. Soon, the officers resumed control of Fassoth Camp—this time leading by example. 104
Volckmann spent the entire month of July and the majority of August at Fassoth Camp. While regaining his strength, he finalized his plans for heading north. Blackburn, though still suffering from fever, reported feeling strong enough to finish the trip. Their current location in the Zambales put them over 100 miles southeast from the nearest reported enclave of American units in Mountain Province. If he expected to make it there before New Year’s 1943, he would have to leave Fassoth Camp before 1 September. The terrain between the Zambales and the northern provinces was somewhat benign compared to what he had been through earlier, but heavy jungles still dominated the landscape and they were sure to impede his movement. At Fassoth Camp, Volckmann learned from Bernia that two Lieutenant Colonels, Claude Thorp and Peter Cayler, were commanding small groups of USAFFE guerrillas in Tarlac Province, just a few miles north.
Volckmann had known Cayler before the invasion—they met aboard the USS Grant en route to the Philippines two years earlier. Taken prisoner at Bataan, Cayler escaped the Death March only after being run over by a Japanese truck. Lying in the road and nursing a broken arm, he was left for dead until a nearby Chinese mestizo family, the Jincos, picked him up. Now living under the Jinco’s care, Cayler and his crew, which included four other Americans who had escaped from the Death March, were recovering just fine. 105
Claude Thorp had been active since the Japanese first landed at Aparri. Prior to the war, he had been the Provost Marshal of Fort Stotsenburg in Central Luzon.* But when Thorp was given the order to vacate his post and join the USAFFE retreat, General King, who later surrendered the Philippine II Corps at Bataan, reassigned him as the Provost Marshal for the Northern Luzon Forces. Thus began Thorp’s career as a USAFFE guerilla. By January 1942, Thorp apparently recognized that USAFFE was on the losing end of its struggle against the Japanese. Most records confirm that Claude Thorp submitted the idea of organizing guerrilla units to General MacArthur and, on 26 January 1942, Thorp allegedly received MacArthur’s permission to travel out of Bataan and begin organizing an Allied resistance based in the Zambales Mountains. 106
Volckmann was not certain of either Cayler’s or Thorp’s exact location. As Tarlac and Zambales provinces had few towns and fewer distinguishable landmarks, he reasoned that he could use Cayler’s and Thorp’s locations as checkpoints to track his progress on the way to North Luzon. While contemplating his next move, Volckmann was interrupted by the arrival of another Filipino, Sergeant Emilio Gumabay.
Emilio had been a police officer with the Philippine Constabulary prior to the invasion. He had escaped the wrath of the Rising Sun until someone—possibly an old enemy—falsely accused him of collaborating with Americans. 107 Now a fugitive running from the Kempei Tai,** Emilio wandered into Fassoth Camp, offering his services to anyone still interested in carrying on the fight. Unfortunately, guerrilla warfare didn’t seem to resonate with anyone besides Volckmann and Blackburn. The tension between the officers and enlisted men had died down, but so had their tenacity for fighting the Japanese. Many had devolved into apathy, content simply to wait for MacArthur’s return.
Inviting Emilio into his group, Volckmann explained the situation: he was headed north to Mountain Province, into the Igorot tribal lands. Fassoth Camp had become a reasonably nice place, but the collective apathy of its residents only hastened the need for his departure. Volckmann did not want to stay in the company of lukewarm soldiers. Accepting the invitation to join the group, Emilio mentioned that aside from his duties as a policeman, he was also a shoemaker and a barber. Both skills came in handy, as Emilio offered free haircuts and taught Volckmann to mend the soles of his shoes using tire treads. 108
* A “Provost Marshal” is the commander of all Military Police forces on a military installation or within a certain command.
**Japanese Secret Police.
On 14 August, Vicente Bernia paid another visit to the camp. Volckmann used the opportunity to ask for a guide to the north and for any more updates on other Americans in the area. Since his involvement with the Fassoth’s, Bernia kept a close liaison with other USAFFE personnel in the area. He told Volckmann that Peter Cayler was just outside of Natividad. Thorp’s hideout lay in the foothills of Mt. Pinatubo. In response to Volckmann’s request for a guide, Bernia offered himself. But first, Bernia insisted that they rest for a few days at his home in Gutad. It was a small town of no more than 2,000 souls, and Bernia’s house—one of several that he owned—was the dominant structure. Volckmann, Blackburn, Bruno, and Emilio were treated to beds with clean linen and generous rations of chicken with rice. Tasking a friend to feed his new guests, Bernia informed them that over half of the American prisoners from Bataan had died in the Japanese prison camps. 109
On the morning of 18 August, Bernia guided the three to Cayler’s location north of Natividad, where they remained for the next two days. Volckmann reports that the Jincos had taken extremely good care of him. The family boasted five daughters who were all experienced chefs. With the daughters serving five meals a day, Volckmann and Blackburn gained back much of the weight that the dysentery, malaria, and combat
fatigue had stolen from them. Volckmann felt stronger but Blackburn’s health remained fragile. He had spent considerable time at Fassoth’s recovering, and although Blackburn remained enthusiastic about the mission, the fever attacks had visibly diluted his strength. Nonetheless, even despite Volckmann’s suggestion that they wait longer, Blackburn was eager to move out.
Cayler and his men—seven in total—were a jovial bunch. Although they were in good spirits, they were in no condition to conduct guerrilla warfare. Some of his charges were still sick, and Cayler himself had not fully recovered. Furthermore, he said that he was awaiting guidance from Thorp, as he had the “last word” on all guerrilla matters in the area. Volckmann wondered why Cayler would defer to another man of the same rank—or why Thorp would even claim to have control over partisan operations this early. Cayler confided in them, however, that he had lost his confidence in Thorp and that the man had largely negated his own authority. 110 According to Cayler, Thorp had already alienated many Americans and agitated the local Filipinos. But his biggest faux pas was agitating the nearby Hukbalahap.
Volckmann had never heard of Claude Thorp, and Cayler’s description of him did not paint the most flattering picture. Nevertheless, if Volckmann wanted to start guerrilla operations, consulting Thorp might be useful. Volckmann wished Cayler luck and set out to see what he could glean from Thorp. Thanking the Jincos and bidding Cayler goodbye, the four reached Claude Thorp’s camp in the late afternoon of 20 August.
Unlike the Fassoth brothers, Volckmann was not impressed either by Thorp or his camp. He had become quite inactive and, at this point, seemed entirely disinterested in the war. Volckmann found this attitude hard to accept, especially from a lieutenant colonel. He explained to Thorp that they were headed for North Luzon and laid out his tentative plans for conducting guerrilla warfare. 111
Upon hearing this, Thorp exploded.
He blasted Volckmann and his friends as “interlopers” and declared himself to be the “official” leader of the Allied resistance. Thorp said that before the Fall of Corregidor, he had been hand-picked by General MacArthur to organize the only resistance movement in Luzon. 112
Despite this directive, however, Thorp had done next to nothing about it. Just as Cayler had described, Thorp alienated local Filipinos and resented the other Americans in his sector. He had snubbed Vicente Bernia—despite receiving 100 pesos from the man—and ignored an offer from the Hukbalahap to combine guerrilla forces. When asked about Moses and Noble, Thorp curtly replied that they had gone north. Apparently, they too had met with Thorp and were greeted with similar hostility.
After two days of fruitless discussions with Thorp, Volckmann asked for a guide who could help him find his way north. Thorp, however, did not know of any guides familiar with the Central Plains area— except for the Hukbalahap. Nevertheless, Volckmann decided to take a gamble and solicit help from a nearby Huk camp. Of course, the possibility lingered that the Huks would shoot him on the spot, but Volckmann desperately needed a guide to help him navigate his way through the swampy lowlands of Central Luzon.
Arriving at a nearby Huk outpost, Volckmann politely asked for any knowledgeable guides to the north. His reception at the Huk camp was one of icy indifference, but the inquiry nevertheless produced a stocky young native who offered his services as a guide. The young man, whom Volckmann and Blackburn nicknamed “Kid Muscles,” agreed to take them as far as the Hukbalahap district headquarters atop Mount Arayat—the only mountain in the Central Plains of Luzon—in Pampanga Province. From there, they could find a guide with a better working knowledge of the North Luzon landscape. 113
On the night of 24 August, Volckmann, Blackburn, Bruno, and Emilio departed Thorp’s camp with Kid Muscles leading the way. After an hour or so on the trail, Volckmann noticed that they were moving closer to a brightly lit area. Adjusting his eyes to the light, he shuddered as he beheld what lay before him: this was a Japanese prison camp. Silhouetted against the nighttime sky were images of barbed wire fence and Japanese guards. He saw no prisoners, as they no doubt had been herded into their barracks for the night. Dazzling searchlights crisscrossed the area from atop the guard towers, frantically searching for any movement beyond the trees. Kid Muscles explained that this was Camp O’Donnell—one of two final destinations for those on the Bataan Death March. Crawling into a nearby drainage ditch, the five men slowly made their way around the prison camp, escaping the beams of light which glided only inches above their heads. 114 How fortunate Volckmann must have felt not to be on the other side of that fence.
In the predawn hours of the following morning, Volckmann arrived at the Hukbalahap headquarters. The hike up the slope of Mount Arayat was no easy feat; the steep grade would have been difficult for even the most experienced mountaineer. Along the way, they were challenged by the Hukbalahap guards at least a dozen times. Every so often, angry voices rang out from the darkness, demanding that the intruders identify themselves. Using Kid Muscles as an interpreter, they explained that they were Americans seeking help from the Huk leadership. Once inside the Huk compound, Volckmann was snatched away by two guards at the front gate. Although it was nearly 3:00 a.m., they ushered him into the home of the Hukbalahap chieftain, Esuebio Aquino. 115
Militarily, the Huks were among the most ruthless and wellorganized guerrilla outfits of the entire war. They fielded their partisans in 100-man units known as “squadrons.” Two squadrons made a battalion; two battalions made a regiment. There was no formalized rank structure, although each man was given an assigned task—for example a rifleman or supply officer—and told to report to someone with a higher designated authority than himself. Each squadron was also assigned a political officer who instructed the Huk cadres how to implement Marxist ideas. Volckmann never expressed his opinions on their political ideology, but it is obvious that he respected their military prowess.
As he sat patiently on the floor of the leader’s house, he hoped that Thorp’s attitude had not caused too much resentment. The Filipinos were proud and passionate people, and to treat them as Thorp had done was neither smart nor endearing. But whatever the extent of Thorp’s public relations damage, Volckmann still needed a guide to North Luzon. When Aquino finally entered the room, the faintly lit lanterns revealed a man nearly 60 years old, reserved and ruggedly stoic. He expressed his dissatisfaction with Thorp and lamented their inability to reach a consensus. Nonetheless, he remained open to the prospect of working with Americans. After an hour’s discussion, he invited Volckmann and Blackburn to stay at the house and rest for a while; breakfast would be served in a few hours. With that, Aquino silently returned to his room. 116
The meeting with Aquino left Volckmann feeling somewhat better. At best, he had expected nothing more than a cold and apathetic audience. Now, the Huks were giving him quarter and feeding him, too. Volckmann appreciated their hospitality, but he realized that the Huks had an ulterior motive. Before the war, they had denounced the Americans as evil capitalistas, and their diplomatic overtures to Claude Thorp did not reflect a suddenly pro-American attitude. Rather, they saw the war as a political opportunity. Now that they shared a common enemy in the Japanese, the Huks believed that fighting alongside the Americans might lend more credibility to—and propaganda for—their Marxist-Leninist ideologies. Although the Huks were happy to help Volckmann—they even asked him to stay on as a military adviser—they often clashed with USAFFE guerrillas later in the war. 117
Aquino instructed one of his men to take them as far north as the Huk network extended. Volckmann had no indication of how far that would be, but was nonetheless grateful to have garnered their support. Heading north, Volckmann and the others were greeted at the foot of Mount Arayat by an endless network of rice paddies. Sloshing through the muddy retention ponds, Volckmann recorded the most frustrating hike he had endured since the jungles of Bataan. Every step dragged him down farther and farther into rice-littered muck. Walking along the dikes offered little solace—the footing was so narro
w and the surface so slippery that he often lost his balance and went flying back into the muddy water. 118
Sometime after midnight on 27 August, he arrived at another Huk hideout, this time in the middle of a swamp. As they had done at Headquarters, the Huk staff at this hideout tried to convince Volckmann to stay on as a military adviser. Flattered by the invitation, he again had to remind his hosts that he was a United States Army officer and that his duties lie farther north. After resting a while at the swamp hideout, Volckmann continued north with a new guide.
For Volckmann, Blackburn, Bruno, and Emilio, the swamp would be far worse than the rice paddies of the previous day. At first, the marshy terrain did not drastically impede their movement—until they all sank chest-deep into the water. Squirming through that slimy mess, no doubt fearful of snakes, mosquitoes, and other swamp creatures, they secured a native canoe to navigate their way through the rest of the swamp.
The group finally arrived at the house of an old schoolteacher about one kilometer from La Paz in Tarlac Province. Bypassing La Paz was sure to be a monumental task: it housed one of the largest Japanese garrisons in the province—one that was guaranteed to have a regular dispatch of enemy patrols. Volckmann, however, was more familiar with this part of Luzon, having fought through La Paz and Victoria during the retreat to Bataan. As the final and northernmost Huk operative in the area, the old teacher was obviously uncomfortable at the prospect of housing two Americans so close to a Japanese enclave. Sensing the discomfort of his new host, Volckmann reassured him that he would not stay long and that all he needed was a safe route to the Highway 3 intersection. 119
La Paz lay along the east-west Highway 13. Highway 13 intersected the north-south Highway 3 only ten miles from Volckmann’s current position. He estimated that it would take only an hour to get there, but the evasive route by which the old Huk led them added three more hours of plodding through the swamp. They appreciated the schoolteacher’s wisdom in wanting to avoid the Japanese, but they were quickly tiring of the savage swampland. Finally arriving at the Highway 3 road junction, Volckmann thanked his host who then darted hastily back into the swamp. 120
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