Click to watch Lance on the History Channel

Click to watch Lance on the History Channel
Email: Zee61@aol.com

Tuesday, July 27, 2010

History Comes Alive!

Last weekend I returned from a great week of research at the National Archives in College Park, Maryland, where I made some wonderful discoveries. If the opportunity arises to go, don't miss it. There's nothing like holding an original paper written by Washington, Lincoln, and others.

But the highlight of my trip was a personal tour of the private archive where the original White House tapes of Richard Nixon are stored. Yeah, I held those in my chubby little fingers too! A special thanks to Bill and the others at the Nixon Archive for the up close and personal look see.

The most requested photo from the National Archives; Tricky Dick and the King. Photo courtesy of the National Archives.

Saturday, July 24, 2010

Oh Say Can You See!

Last Saturday I toured Fort McHenry in Baltimore, where Francis Scott Key penned (or quilled) the Star Spangled Banner in 1814. It was only 100 degrees and muggy outside, but I didn't mind. It's not everyday one gets the chance to see such a great landmark.

The enormous 39-foot statue of Orpheus guarding the land approach to Fort McHenry. The inscription on the statue reads: To Francis Scott Key - Author of the Star Spangled Banner and to the soldiers and sailors who took part in the Battle of North Point and the defense of Fort McHenry in the War of 1812.

Guns guarding the Harbor 

Tuesday, July 6, 2010

Vacation--American Style!

Our family just returned from two weeks vacation in California, Nevada, and Arizona. We hit several of the usual tourist spots; Seal Beach, Hollywood, Disneyland, the Grand Canyon, Las Vegas, Phoenix, and other places. We had a wonderful time, but were glad to get home so we could get some rest! Enjoy the photos!

Our vacation began in Seal Beach where we enjoyed the moderate temperatures and NO humidity!

Ariel holding on for dear life!

From Seal Beach it was on to LA for a little sightseeing in Hollywood, then off to where else...Disneyland!

Ariel and Daddy prepare to enter the Temple of Doom!

Follwed by $7 corndogs and $5 ice cream cones! Welcome to California.

After a day of rest we visited the Nixon Presidential Library and Museum in Yorba Linda. Here Lance discusses the finer points of communism with Mao Zedong (right) and Chou Enlai.

Ching and Ariel "Exit through the gift shop."


Our next stop was the Reagan Presidential Library & Museum located about 50 miles north of LA. Above is a recreation of the Oval Office exactly as it was when Reagan was president.

Note the nose of Air Force One overlooking Simi Valley. Sorry, no photos inside Air Force One. But I tried!

Hoover...Dam...what a sight!

Viva Las Vegas! After two presidential libraries it was time to have some fun, so we loaded onto a bus and headed to Las Vegas, where we enjoyed the sights and sounds of Sin City without committing (m)any sins. Darn!

During our stay in Vegas we took a day trip to the Grand Canyon. Above Ching surveys the big hole from her lofty perch.

We concluded our trip with a quick visit to Phoenix. It was 115 degrees--but it was a dry heat! Give me Illinois any day.

Sunday, July 4, 2010

Happy Birthday America!

Just wanted to say, "Happy Birthday America!"

Tuesday, June 15, 2010

Alamo Scouts Reunion

A special congratulations to the Alamo Scouts Association on its annual reunion which was held in Seal Beach, California from 16-20 June. Only three Alamo Scouts were in attendance, but over 70 people attended the Reunion Banquet making it one of the largest turnouts in years.

Alamo Scout Terry Santos

Alamo Scout Wilbur Littlefield, Christine McGowen, and Marilyn Plutae

Alamo Scout Bob Buschur and wife Rita

Ching, Col. Mark Rosengard, Lance, Ariel, and George Eaton at reunion dinner. To view the photos of the reunion banquet, click on the link: http://www.facebook.com/#!/chingphoto
See you next year in Charleston, South Carolina!

Monday, June 14, 2010

Garvin Chadwell - 1967-2009

(Photo: Garvin Chadwell working on my car in Isom, KY June 1992)
My heart is heavy today, as I just learned of the passing of a dear friend, Garvin Chadwell. In every life there are those people who make an indelible mark. For me, Garvin was one of them. He was a slow-talkin', fast-thinkin', proud-to-be-a-hillbilly, good ole' boy from Isom, Kentucky. Garvin possessed a razor-sharp mind and a keen sense of humor, and with a twinkle in his eye, delighted in using his exaggerated southern drawl to prove to everyone (especially us Yankees) how dumb he was. But we knew better. I met Garvin in the Army at Fort Bragg, North Carolina in 1990, where we served in the Imagery Exploitation Section of C Company, 319th MI Bn, 525 MI Bde (ABN). He was among the finest intelligence analysts I ever worked with, and an even better friend. After we left the military we visited each other's homes and stayed in regular contact, but as people often do, we lost touch. It had been seven years since we last spoke, but out of the blue I "Googled" him and learned that he had suffered a stroke and had passed away on May 14, 2009. After returning from Operation Desert Storm in 1991, Garvin experienced a lot of health issues. He suffered from rashes, nervousness, trembling, and other maladies, all of which stayed with him until the end. In my mind, that war caused another casualty, albeit 18 years later. So today, on the birthday of the U.S. Army, thank a veteran for their service.

Saturday, June 12, 2010

PT Boats.org

One of my favorite sites is the national PT Boats Association at http://www.ptboats.org/. PT boats were constructed of wood and powered by three 1500hp Packard engines. The PTs played an important role in the defeat of Japan in the Pacific during WWII, and for the past few years I have interviewed many of their crewmembers to document their role in the operations of the Alamo Scouts. Above is a rare color photo of PT-132, which supported the Alamo Scouts on a number of missions. Please visit their website and learn more about these unsung heroes of WWII. 

Wednesday, June 2, 2010

Kiefer Academy Graduation

For the past couple weeks I've been rooting around for words of wisdom to present to the graduates of Kiefer Academy. On June 2, I delivered the graduation address entitled, "IF--the middle word in life." I guess even a blind hog finds an acorn once in a while.

Thursday, April 1, 2010

Old Photo Find

Recently uncovered this great old photo of Ching's and my grandparents. It was likely taken sometime in the late 1880s immediately before the government put a restriction on Chinese immigration. Note the clarity of the glass plate photograph and how much we look like them. Apparently this photo was taken in a bar in Cheyenne, Wyoming. By the way, April Fools. Have a great day!

Saturday, March 13, 2010

Alamo Scouts Draw a Crowd!




Last Thursday I spoke at the Woodford County Historical Society in Metamora. The topic was the Alamo Scouts of WWII, and it was amazing how many people showed up to hear about the Scouts. Funny how duty, honor, and country never go out of style! The hit of the program was the original uniform of Alamo Scouts team leader William E. "Bill" Nellist. A special thanks to the Nellist family for entrusting it to my care.

Sunday, March 7, 2010

Woodford County Historical Society


I will be speaking at the Woodford County Historical Society on Thursday, March 11 at Snyder Village in Metamora. The program will be begin at 7 p.m. and last for about 45 minutes. Better yet, it's free! So come on out and join the fun. The topic will be the Alamo Scouts. For some reason people can't get enough of these guys! I just wish there were more of them left.

Sunday, January 31, 2010

Happy Birthday Grandma Rose!


I'd like to wish my grandma Rose a happy 88th birthday. She has brought much joy to others with her singing and yodeling. We hope the next 88 years are just as good!

Thursday, January 7, 2010

The Great Raid - DVD Review

In many Hollywood war movies the first casualty is often the truth. But despite the occasional errant bullet, Miramax Studios and Director John Dahl, were right on the mark with The Great Raid. The movie, based on William Breuer’s book of the same title, and Hampton Sides' fine work, "Ghost Soldiers," takes place on Luzon in the Philippines in late January 1945, and recounts the daring raid in which 121 Army Rangers of the 6th Ranger Battalion, two teams of Alamo Scouts, and Filipino guerrilla units combined to liberate 513 POWs from Cabanatuan POW Camp thirty miles behind enemy lines. The film begins with dramatic period footage and narration, which is needed given many Americans’ limited understanding of the war in the Philippines, but the opening runs about ten minutes too long before segueing into a powerful scene portraying the Japanese massacre of American POWs at Palawan. This scene clearly demonstrates the possible fate awaiting POWs at Cabanatuan, many of whom were survivors of the infamous Bataan Death March, and establishes the raison d’etre for the mission. The story is told from the view of Captain Robert Prince (James Franco), a Ranger company commander and subordinate to Lieutenant Colonel Henri Mucci (Benjamin Bratt). Mucci is rightly characterized as a dynamic, ambitious, and charismatic leader, who, through sheer force of will and an indomitable personality, overcomes all obstacles in preparing for and accomplishing the mission. At the heart of the secondary plot is real-life hero and Presidential Medal of Freedom recipient Margaret Utinsky (Connie Nielson), an American citizen who passes herself off as a Lithuanian nurse working for the Red Cross in occupied Manila. She smuggles food and medicine through the guerrilla resistance to the beleaguered POWs inside Cabanatuan, and faces certain torture and death if discovered by the Japanese secret police. Utinsky, the widow of an American POW who died in Cabanatuan in 1942, is driven by the desire to help and by an unrequited love for POW Major Gibson (Joseph Fiennes), who will die without the medicine she provides. While the love interest with Gibson is arguably a necessary element for broadening the movie’s appeal and selling tickets to a mixed audience, it is clearly Hollywood. From a historical standpoint, the most glaring omissions were at the expense of the Alamo Scouts. Not only were fictitious names used for the Alamo Scout team leaders (Lts. Able and LeClaire for NELLIST and ROUNSAVILLE), but the role that the Scouts played in obtaining vital pre-raid information, and the subsequent evacuation of the seriously sick and wounded a day after the main body of prisoners arrived at American lines, was diminished or omitted all together. Also, the details surrounding the Alamo Scouts hastily constructing an airfield five miles from the camp during the night for the evacuation of the mortally wounded Ranger, Dr. James Fisher (Robert Mammone), were omitted, possibly due to Mucci inexplicably having failed to send the aircraft. At times the dialogue, mostly by the POWs, was stiff, manufactured, overdramatic, and violated the cardinal rule of “show not tell.” However, it was useful in further informing the audience about the three-year plight of the POWs at the hands of the Japanese Army. And in keeping with Hollywood tradition, the attack on the POW compound, which purportedly killed 250 Japanese, was exaggerated. “We didn’t approach the camp in a service line,” said Galen Kittleson, a member of the Alamo Scouts who participated in the raid. “We would have been detected and slaughtered. We approached the camp in a single line on our bellies heel-to-toe like a long snake. And there wasn’t that much fighting at the compound, and there certainly weren’t any tanks. We caught them by surprise and hit them so hard and fast that they didn’t have much of chance to fight back.” True historians and sharp-eyed aircraft aficionados were also disappointed in the unavailability of vintage Army Air Corps P-61 Black Widow aircraft needed to recreate the buzzing of the camp as a diversionary tactic prior to the raid. Instead, modified C-47s were used. But given the enormous expense and difficulty in obtaining real P-61s, Miramax should be allowed to keep its artistic license with just a slap on the wrist, that is, if it promises never to repeat such an historical faux pas in the future. The cinematography was realistic, with good use of light and shadow, which was effective in conveying the harsh and brutal conditions which existed at Cabanatuan. Equally impressive was the recreation of war time Manila, filmed at Shanghai Film Studios in China, and the relatively accurate use of extras. “We tried to be as accurate as possible in casting extras,” chuckled Dahl. “Japanese played Japanese, Filipinos played Filipinos, and Australians played Americans!” One of the strengths of the movie was the outstanding and authentic newsreel footage of the POWS that chronicled their journey from Cabanatuan a few hours after liberation to their emotional homecoming to the United States. In concert with an excellent musical score, it provided a powerful and emotional ending to the movie, one that clearly made an impact with the veterans in attendance. Had several minutes of narration and over-explanation been sacrificed on the cutting room floor, the dialogue tweaked, and the role of the Alamo Scouts expanded, The Great Raid could have been heralded as one of the more accurate and entertaining war movies of the last generation. But it falls just short of joining Patton, Saving Private Ryan, and few others on the pantheon of elite movies. Despite minor flaws, The Great Raid is a valiant and stirring attempt at recounting a heroic event in our nation’s history"one that should not and will not be forgotten. Rent the DVD. You’ll be glad you did.
NOTE: A special thanks to John Dahl and Miramax Studios for the private screening of The Great Raid at the Alamo Scouts Reunion in Kansas City on 18 June 2005. Dahl is a credit to his craft and should be commended. He was refreshingly humble, forthright, and reverent of the Alamo Scouts and the role they played in the raid. Kudos for his passion in such a noble project; for having the talent to balance the realities of the movie industry with the truth; and for having the courage to depict the horror of war for what it is.

Sunday, January 3, 2010

The Last Rubicon (E-book) Sale

The Last Rubicon is now available on E-book for $4.95! Go to http://www.authorhouse.com/ and type "Zedric" in the search window. Below is Chapter 1. Enjoy!!
Somewhere in Montana - 0730 Hours
It was the bluest sky he had ever seen. From atop a spotted roan the steely-eyed shooter peered down the barrel of his weapon into the endless expanse of sky. He blinked twice and placed a thick index finger on the custom silver trigger. The shooter drew a deep breath and exhaled, calming his nerves. The horse did the same. Moments later a clay pidgin sliced through the crisp morning air and disintegrated in a puff of red smoke.
Congressman Harlington Walls, nominee for Speaker of the U.S. House of Representatives, stood in the stirrups and braced himself against the horse's thick neck anticipating his next shot—a simultaneous release. Walls shouted the command. “Pull!"
Like two miniature flying saucers, the four-inch platters crisscrossed in mid-air and accelerated in opposite directions. Walls drew a bead on the one to his right and calmly squeezed the trigger. He then swung 180 degrees and quickly zeroed in on the second tiny disc. It was a long shot. But Walls had made a career out of them. Even at sixty-five the charismatic and popular Montana Congressman’s star was on the rise. Over the years he had earned a reputation as one of the most honest and capable members of Congress, garnering the respect of Republicans and Democrats alike. Now he was being rewarded. When the sitting Speaker of the House retired unexpectedly, Walls was everyone's first choice. Some said that it was his uncanny resemblance to Teddy Roosevelt that made him so appealing. Walls was a dead ringer for the former president right down to his round spectacles and gap-toothed grin. Others claimed that he was the archetype poster boy for America's grandpa. The fatter, wiser, more congenial father of Uncle Sam. The perception of an older, more trustworthy politician appealed to the scores of disenchanted voters who had suffered through the public sex scandals of younger men, especially the former president. Although Walls had not expressed interest in seeking the presidency, many insiders believed that the Oval Office was his if he wanted it. But right now it was the farthest thing from his mind.
Walls leaned forward as if to shorten the distance between his barrel and the fleeing target. He calmly squeezed the trigger. The weapon's breech recoiled abruptly against his cheek, reminding him of the lethal instrument he wielded. Like a child at Christmas, his bright blue eyes sparkled as the brittle target of limestone and pitch exploded in the distance. Walls eased back into the saddle and savored the moment. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply through his nose. His nostrils flared at the heady mix of saddle leather, gunpowder and clean Montana air. Walls grinned at his well-dressed aide kneeling in the bed of a dusty white pickup preparing to load another trap.
“God, I love it out here! Give me an honest shotgun, a good horse and a fat-bottom woman and I could die here! You can have D.C. What'd ya say, boy!"
The aide didn’t answer. It was obvious that he would rather be anywhere but here, but he couldn't refuse a personal request from the Office of the President. The President's top advisor had personally asked him to spearhead Walls' transition team, and as much as he detested being an errand boy, he knew that eventually he would be rewarded for tackling the unenviable assignment. Walls sensed his aide’s growing indignation.
"What’s the matter, boy? Spit it out!"
The aide stood and pushed his stylish black sunglasses high on his nose, then glanced at the Cartier watch that his father had given him for graduating from Harvard Law School. He then placed his hands on his hips and glared defiantly at the old man. “Let's make this the last one, Congressman. You've got an important meeting at the capitol in an hour. And we can't keep..."
Walls raised his right hand and cut him off in mid-sentence. “To hell with the suits in Helena. They've kept me waiting for years! Now it's my turn. Besides, they can’t pick their noses without me."
"But, Congressman..."
"Don't but me, boy."
The aide backed off. He knew better than to push Walls any harder. Despite his gentle public persona, Harlington Walls had an explosive temper, and the young aide wasn't prepared to be on the receiving end of one of the Congressman's infamous tirades. “No, of course not, Congressman. Whatever you say."
Walls rested the shotgun on his lap and glared back at the cocky understudy. Walls knew when he was being patronized. “Son, how old are you?"
The aide look surprised. He had worked for Walls for almost a month and it was the first time he had asked him anything personal. “Twenty-six, sir. Why do you ask?"
Walls smirked. "Twenty-six! Holy shit, son! You‘re fresh off the tit."
"Excuse me, sir?"
Walls scowled at him. “You heard me you spoiled little prick! I’d been in Congress five years when you were shittin’ your pants and I haven't been late for a meeting yet. So, don't lecture me. Don’t patronize me. And don’t fuckin’ wet nurse me. Just load up a goddamn pidgin and let it fly!"
The aide felt his blood boil. He knew that Walls wanted to draw him into an argument, but he would not respond. Instead, he took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, expelling carbon dioxide and the desire to beat the fat, old bastard to death. There would be time for payback later. There always was in Washington. The aide raised his hands and smiled meekly. “Whatever you say, Congressman. My bad.”
Walls grinned smugly and waited for him to load another target. "Pull goddamnit! Pull!"
Walls strained backward in his saddle and drew a bead on the rapidly ascending target. He waited for it to reach its apex then placed his finger on the trigger. A single blast followed. Seconds later the target spiraled to the earth intact. The aide allowed himself a surreptitious smile, but it belied his cold, lifeless eyes. He quickly jumped from the tailgate and landed cleanly on the ground, barely dusting his soft Italian leather shoes. He then brushed off his pants and ran his fingers through his short black hair. Like a defiant cock rooster, he strutted the ten yards to Walls’ body lying in the red Montana dirt. The combat loads from his double-barrel shotgun had ripped a gaping hole in Walls' upper chest and throat. The massive roan lay beside his master, panting heavily from a mortal wound to its tiny brain. There was blood everywhere. So much blood that the aide couldn't distinguish between horse blood and human blood. But not that it mattered. Blood was blood. The aide casually slung the weapon over his shoulder and watched his victims slip in and out of consciousness. Together, man and beast struggled for life, each in their own way trying to understand what had just happened and why. But no answers were forthcoming. Walls tried to focus on the approaching figure, but the thick spatters of blood on his spectacles prevented him from his seeing. The aide stood over him and removed a handkerchief from his pocket. He then squatted and carefully wiped the blood from Walls’ glasses.
"Is that better, Mr. Speaker?" he asked smugly. “Good. Good. Because I don't want you to miss this."
The aide chambered another round then stood and rechecked his watch. He then pressed the shotgun against Walls' forehead. “Who's shitting his pants now, Mr. never-going-to-Speaker of the House?”
The aide casually flicked a piece of lint from his shirt. “And since we‘re on the subject, would you like the honors or shall I?"
Walls groaned and closed his eyes. He knew what was coming.
The aide smiled. “Very well. But don’t say I didn’t offer...Pull!"
The aide tucked the shotgun under his arm and punched a number into his cell phone. He waited for a single click and abruptly hung up. According to plan, two unmarked Apache helicopters soon descended from the horizon. Within five minutes, all evidence of the murder was erased. Officially, it never happened.

Tuesday, December 29, 2009

Merry Xmas from 1944

In honor of our troops deployed around the world and at home, past and present, I thought this card sent home by Alamo Scout Samuel Jacobson in 1944 a fitting reminder that there are those separated from their families so we can be with ours. Merry Xmas and God bless all our troops everywhere.


This card was mailed from Abuyog, Leyte, Philippine Islands. Note the bombed out church, army tents, and carabao carts. Priceless.

Monday, December 21, 2009

The Miracle Mission

One of the most rewarding aspects of being a historian and writer is having the chance to reunite former WWII POWs and displaced civilians with their liberators. In most cases they have neither seen nor spoken with each other since the day of liberation, and in many cases, the prisoners never even knew the names of their liberators. The following account is one such account of the SyCip family and its liberators. Please leave feedback if you enjoyed the story--and more importantly--pass it on. (Photo above of Lt. John Dove - Alamo Scout - 1945)

The SyCip Family (below)
Crew of Patrol Torpedo Boat 379
Lieutenant John Dove and his team of Alamo Scouts gently hoisted a tiny, pigtailed girl aboard their rubber raft into the waiting arms of her mother. Priscilla, the frightened two-year-old, did not fully comprehend what was happening, but she understood the seriousness of her mother’s face. Thirty minutes later she was aboard a PT boat speeding her and thirty-eight others to safety. The mother strained to see tiny Fuga Island rapidly fading into the night. She recalled that Fuga, meant ‘escape’ in Latin, and the significance was clear. She hugged her daughter and allowed herself a tiny smile. For her and the rest of SyCip family, the war was over. A year earlier, in the summer of 1944, Alfonso SyCip, an influential Chinese national living in Manila, fled the capitol city with his extended family and their Spanish domestics, the Elordi family, and moved to tiny Fuga Island, some sixty-five nautical miles off the northern coast of Luzon in the Babuyan Island Group. The Japanese suspected that SyCip, a Chinese community leader, prominent businessman, and the first vice-president of the Manila Rotary International, might be spying for the United States. His situation grew even more dangerous as time passed, especially as the Americans readied for a return to the Philippines. Since the unoccupied island, which was owned by SyCip, had no electricity and was relatively undeveloped, SyCip hoped that his family could wait out the war in safety. Unfortunately, a Japanese force from Formosa (Taiwan) occupied the island on September 21, 1944, and life quickly changed. The Japanese commander confiscated all cattle and forbade the SyCips from buying food on the economy. Instead, he ordered that they grow their own, and after food became scarce, the garden was taken over by the Japanese garrison. By July 27th, 1945, only one day’s rations remained. The elder SyCip gathered his family in prayer and asked God to cause the Japanese commander to rescind the order and to allow them to buy food or to send help. Their prayers were answered. That same day, the nephew of Alfonso SyCip arrived in Claveria from Manila, bearing a letter from General Douglas MacArthur, Supreme Commander of the Allied Forces in the Southwest Pacific, who had previously been approached by Albino SyCip, Alfonso's younger brother and president of China Banking Corporation in Manila, in an attempt to learn the status of the family on Fuga. The letter stated that the SyCip family was close personal friends, and that anything that could be done to assist the family would be considered a special personal favor. The Alamo Scouts happened to be there. Formed in November 1943 by then Lieutenant General Walter Krueger, commander of the Sixth Army, to conduct raider and reconnaissance work throughout the islands, beaches and jungles of the Southwest Pacific, the Alamo Scouts, a top secret ad hoc organization officially known as the Sixth Army Special Reconnaissance Unit, performed 110 known missions behind enemy lines without losing a single man killed or captured. The unit’s unmatched military record included two daring prisoner camp liberations and countless incursions behind enemy lines to gather information, capture prisoners, rescue civilians, and to organize, supply, equip, and train Filipino guerilla units in operations against the Japanese. Volunteers for the Alamo Scouts underwent a rigorous selection process at the division, regimental, battalion, and company levels before selection to one of the six Alamo Scouts Training Centers that were established throughout the war. Class size ranged from 80-100 candidates, with an attrition rate of over 40 percent, and as Sixth Army advanced, old training centers would close and new ones open. The intensive six-week training course featured instruction in rubber boat handling, survival, navigation, communications, intelligence collection, scouting & patrolling, physical conditioning, and hand-to-hand combat, and focused on teaching the skills necessary to survive in a jungle environment. Moreover, much of the training was conducted in enemy-held territory. At the end of each training class, remaining candidates voted by secret ballot for the four men they would most like to go on a dangerous mission with and for the officer they would like to lead them. In turn the officers voted for the men they would most like to serve on their team. Such a selection has not been used by the military since the Civil War, but unlike the mixed results of that time, the Alamo Scouts experienced resounding success. Retained graduates then were formed into elite 6-7 man teams led by a junior officer, with the team taking the last name of the officer. By many accounts, Dove was the best. “The timing of the letter’s arrival had to be a miracle,” said Dove. “Unexpectedly, the next day we received orders from 6th Army Headquarters to scout Fuga Island where the family was detained.
Dove, a good-natured lieutenant of deep religious faith from Hollywood, California, had participated in two previous rescue operations, and his experience would be invaluable. The first occurred in October 1944, when two teams of Alamo Scouts rescued 66 Dutch and Javanese civilians from a Japanese camp on Cape Oransbari, Dutch New Guinea, and the second at Cabanatuan POW camp in central Luzon in January 1945, where a combined Alamo Scout/6th Ranger/Filipino Guerrilla operation freed 513 prisoners in a daring night raid. Both operations were executed flawlessly, and are heralded as two of the finest such operations in U.S. military history. More recently, on 18 July, Dove and two PT boat crews had helped evacuate twenty civilians from the Japanese on nearby Ibahos Island. This was the type of mission Dove could sink his teeth into. "I always considered Fuga the Miracle Mission,” Dove recalled. “Its success depended upon a series of miracles, and that is what happened. It was the best kind of mission because we got to help civilians.”
Dove had been on the island before but knew nothing of the SyCips’ plight. “We were on Fuga twice. On June 20, 1945, Hobbs Team and my team, along with Company A of Anderson’s Guerillas, came up from Infanta aboard an LCS looking for downed airmen. We conducted a patrol and learned that the fliers had been used as bayonet dummies, so we left. Had we known about the SyCips then, we would have taken them off right away.”
The airmen were part of a bomber air crew from the 309th Bombardment Wing that had crash landed on the island on June 5th upon return from a bombing mission on Formosa. Six of the crew died in the crash and two were captured. Two others eluded capture with the help of Walberto Agarpao, a Filipino civilian, and were picked up by an American seaplane. “The civilians gave us the shirts of those two airmen,” added Alamo Scout Peter Vischansky. “The Japanese had held them in a cave for two weeks and had bayoneted them. We brought their shirts back.”
But it might have been the SyCips who alerted the Allies as to the airmen’s fate. When SyCip’s son, John, and a friend, learned that the fliers had been captured and killed by the Japanese, they signaled Allied reconnaissance planes by spelling out a message on the beach using the trunks of banana trees. They also added, “Please rescue us!”
The message was received. Unfortunately, it resulted in great personal loss to the SyCips. In an attempt to flush out the Japanese, American bombers mistakenly dropped three bombs on a row of houses occupied by the SyCips. One was a direct hit and killed sixteen people. The others did not explode, but were such a threat that the Japanese advised the family to move to an unoccupied part of the island. Meanwhile, Dove’s Alamo Scout team, consisting of First Sergeant Fredirico Balambao, and Sergeants Estanislao Bacat, Paul Draper, Pete Vischansky, and Filipino radioman Agrifino "Pee Wee" Duran, along with civilian Bernado Swarez, left Claveria at 11p.m. on 28 July aboard PT-379 and PT-383 of Motor Torpedo Squadron 28. The PT boats had picked up twenty such downed air crew members from June 5-13th, and Dove wanted only the best. “We knew Dove quite well,” recalled Ralph Kleeberger, a gunner aboard PT-379. “Our boat supported a number of Alamo Scout missions along northern Luzon late in the war. We were all happy to be part of this mission.”
The patrol arrived shortly after 3 a.m. the next morning. Dove and his team quickly boarded their rubber boat and landed four miles west of the eastern tip of the island at 3:30 a.m.
“We began the mission under the cover of a total eclipse of the full moon,” said Dove. “Under the protection of darkness we slipped up on three Filipino fishermen and secured their assistance, which was remarkable, since the Japanese had posted an order that Filipinos could not be near the coast during darkness under the penalty of death.”
The fisherman informed the Scouts of the enemy situation and then guided the patrol to Kobitan, a tiny barrio on the northeastern end of the island, where they discovered two Japanese soldiers sleeping in a hut. The pair, consisting of the garrison Supply Sergeant and First Sergeant, had come to the barrio in search of food. At 5:30 a.m., the Scouts moved in.
We took two prisoners after a fairly simple alley fight,” chuckled Dove. “By the time we were through, they were ready to come with us.”
“The Filipinos led us to where they were sleeping,” added Vischansky. “Dove was in that hut pounding the Japanese about the head with his .45, but once we captured them, he treated them kindly.”
"After Dove had his man tied up, he left Bacat and I with the Japs and he, Vischansky and Balambao went to contact 3 civilian families that we were going to evacuate with us," added Paul Draper. "In about half an hour, Dove returned and we took the two Japs down to the beach where we had landed. The boats were to return at 11 p.m. that night, as it was now about 8 a.m. and we had to spend the whole day on the island, so we found a good vantage spot where we could put up a good fight if any Japs came snooping around. The fishermen then led the patrol another 400 yards to the outskirts of the village where the SyCips lived. The Scouts remained in hiding while the fishermen went to SyCip’s home and brought back John SyCip, the son of Alfonso. Following a brief conversation, the son left and later returned with his father. The elder SyCip bowed. “We knew you would come,” he said softly.
Dove nodded. “How can we help you?”
“Take us off,” replied SyCip. “Please take us off.”
Dove told SyCip to prepare his family for evacuation. A storm was brewing, and it was imperative that he get the civilians off the island before the storm set in. But how?
“The only radio we had with us at the time was a line of sight radio that could be expected to carry about five miles,” explained Dove. “I doubted that we could be heard by anyone, yet our call traveled over four miles of the island’s dense foliage and over several miles of ocean. Remarkably, the call was received by an operator who happened to pick up the tail end of our message as he tested his equipment. By clearing the message before schedule, the PT boats could rendezvous four hours early. Hopefully, this would allow us to beat the storm.”
At 8:30 a.m. Dove and his team, along with two prisoners, returned to the beach and contacted the PT boats to arrange for the evacuation. With the help of the fishermen and other villagers, civilians were called in from all over the island to provide information on the Japanese garrison. For the next several hours the Scouts collected information and learned that between 550 and 600 enemy soldiers were garrisoned on the island, and that many were in poor health suffering from malaria, dysentery, and malnutrition. Also, the Scouts located three artillery pieces. With the present condition of the Japanese, Dove realized that the civilians were in danger.
“I remember the long and somewhat frightening walk to the beach that night to wait for the Americans to come and rescue us,” recalled Dr. Jane Lin-Fu, then a teenager. “What would happen if we encountered some Japanese soldiers on the way? What excuse do we have for going down to the beach? What would happen to us?”
“We were told to just bring the clothes that we wore,”
added Priscilla. “So we wore three-to-four outfits one on top of the other.”
“Using the inflatable raft, we began shuttling the prisoners, the civilians, and the Scouts to the PT boats,” said Dove. “The storm was moving in and we had to get everyone aboard before it stranded us there.”
But due to the size of the SyCip family, the Scouts needed help.
“Once at the rendezvous, two members of our crew inflated a and proceeded to assist with the evacuation,” said Handy Stinson, a crewmember aboard PT-379. “The skipper asked for volunteers to row ashore and to help with the evacuation.”
“It was a spooky affair,”
added crewmember Bill Rankin. “We all stepped forward together as you might imagine in a war movie.”
“I recall Lieutenant Dove carrying Mrs. SyCip in his arms like a baby,” said Vischansky. “She was an elderly Chinese woman and her feet were bound, and Jack placed her gently in the raft.”
By 9:45 p.m., everyone was aboard and heading toward Claveria.
“The storm was so loud that we could have played band music while we disembarked from the island,” chuckled Dove. “But it the storm was a blessing in disguise. Enough good things cannot be said about the PT skippers and the support that they and the crews provided. Without them the Scouts never could have accomplished what they did. I enjoyed these types of missions more than any other. The missions where I got to help people. The Oransbari camp liberation; the Cabanatuan raid; and the Fuga Island rescue. They will always stand out in my mind because I got the chance to save people—not kill them.”
“I engineered two PT boats to go up to Fuga," said Mayo Stuntz from Special Intelligence, Sixth Army."I got authority of course, to go up and to affect the rescue of this Chinese family. And so I got a little Cub plane and went up and arranged for a C-47 to pick up the evacuees. So we all went up there at the same time and Dove came down on the two PT boats."
“For years afterwards, I often wondered what happened to that little girl,” recalled Kleeberger, speaking of Priscilla. “It was a significant event in my life. To have played some small part in the rescue of her and her family gives me a deep feeling of satisfaction.”
Today, Priscilla SyCip-Bogner, lives a quiet, comfortable life in Illinois, far removed from pigtails and the threat of execution by the Imperial Japanese Army. Her thriving family is spread out across the United States and in Republic of the Philippines. Every day she is thankful for the Alamo Scouts and the men of Motor Torpedo Squadron Ron 28 who rescued her and her family from an uncertain fate. Someday, she hopes to reunite members of the SyCip family with the PT boat crews and the families of the Alamo Scouts. For many it would be a daunting task, but given her firsthand experience with miracles, anything is possible.

Priscilla SyCip Bogner & Ralph Kleeberger
2009
NOTE: The Alamo Scouts participated in the Bismarck Archipelago, New Guinea, Leyte and Luzon campaigns, and saw brief occupation duty in Japan following the war, but were unceremoniously disbanded in November 1945, never to be reconstituted. The Alamo Scouts are widely considered as the Army’s first LRSU (long-range surveillance unit) and were awarded the Special Forces Tab by the John F. Kennedy Special Warfare Center & School in 1988 recognizing the unit as a forerunner of the modern Special Forces. For more information on the Alamo Scouts, visit their website at http://www.alamoscouts.org/.

Sunday, December 6, 2009

Diamonds in the Scruff

A million years ago, or so it seems, I became intrigued by diamonds. Not the kind measured by carats; or that appear on playing cards; or upon which people play baseball. The diamonds that caught my eye were of the human kind. Sometime around 1965 I first recall meeting “Fizzle,” a friend of my father’s who, I later learned, was an ancient 48 years old at the time, and with whom I shared a birthday. I also learned that this grizzled old man had served in General George Patton’s army in Africa, and had survived three years on the front lines of WWII. But that mattered little to a four year old boy who had not yet learned to spell. What intrigued me about Fizzle, besides his box of medals, were the deep, etched lines in his leathery face and a large, protruding mole between his eyes—one that I desperately wanted to pluck off his face like a ripe grape, but was afraid to touch. But it was the diamonds on the back of his neck that interested me most; the naturally occurring age lines that men get when they have more years in the rearview mirror than on the road ahead--an insidious portent that just appears one day and never leaves. Sadly, Fizzle passed away in 1971, and the allure of his diamonds faded safely into the recesses of my memory. But one day 44 years later, Fizzle exploded back into my life. As a teacher of troubled high school boys who often lack social skills and even a small measure of tact, nothing shocked me. That is, until I was crammed into a school elevator with nine of them on our way to lunch. As I faced the elevator door with them standing behind me, I heard one student mutter, “Mr. Z, the diamonds on your neck are really cool—how did you get them?” Everyone quickly chimed in with their own perspective on the unique collection of diamonds that only time and genetics had given me. After the initial shock and subsequent realization that I was “old” had worn off, my thoughts time-traveled back to Fizzle and to the furrows that had adorned his weathered and ancient neck—one that if examined closely would likely have been indistinguishable from mine. I chuckled to myself and quietly accepted my fate. To those young men my neck was the ultimate in body art—a masterpiece carved out flesh neither by desire nor design, but to me it was simply a benchmark to help signal the passing of time and a reminder that we must find the jewels of our lives among many stones. And although we are often confused by which is which, we soon learn that the false luster of stones soon fades away--but that true diamonds are forever. Thanks Fizzle. Above photo of Fizzle taken circa 1965. (Courtesy of the John "Fizzle" Krulac Family).

Sunday, November 22, 2009

In Memoriam

Forty-six years ago today in Dallas, Texas President Kennedy was assassinated. Regardless of which side of the political fence we stand, it is important to remember those who have sacrificed so that we can continue to enjoy the freedom to choose. I took this photo at Arlington National Cemetery.

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

Mattie

Photographer Russ Blaise took this shot of veteran stuntman William P. Brown on the set of "Mattie" an upcoming Michael Dohrmann Film by Chosen Film Works. Russ was a photographer for the production outside of Tucson. To view a trailer of the movie click http://vimeo.com/channels/chosenfilmworks. Also, to see more Russ's work go to

Sunday, October 25, 2009

My Lovely



Thirteen years ago today in San Diego I met my wife, Ching. That was the day my life changed. She is a great wife, a wonderful mother, and one of the people I most admire. Here's to the next 13 years. Love ya and see ya around the house.

Tuesday, October 13, 2009

History's Mysteries 2001

Several people have asked where they can view the original History's Mysteries program on the Alamo Scouts which debuted on the History Channel on 7 June 2001. Click on the banner above or on the following link. Enjoy! http://ahivfree.alexanderstreet.com/View/501067

Saturday, October 10, 2009

The Last Rubicon (Again)

Thanks to all who have inquired about my novel. There are several ways to order. To order through the internet go to: 1) Barnesandnoble.com 2) Amazon.com 3) Authorhouse.com 4) Email me directly for a signed copy or 5) Visit a bookstore and order (more expensive). Be sure to leave feedback online if you liked the book.

Thursday, October 1, 2009

Silent No More - Book Update

To update everyone on the progress of the new book on the Alamo Scouts--it's in production and should be released by May 2010. To date I have compiled the firsthand accounts over 250 Alamo Scouts, PT boat crewmen, Filipino guerrillas, and others who served in the SWPA. I urge anyone who served with or supported the Alamo Scouts
during WWII to contact me immediately with their stories and photos. Time is running out.

Saturday, September 19, 2009

WWII Japanese Marine

The family of a US serviceman has asked me to help locate the family of the Japanese marine shown below. I am in possession of several personal items which belonged to the marine prior to his death in New Guinea. Anyone who can translate the inscription please contact me.