I Saw You Fell - "Angels Of Bataan"

CHAPTER 11

It was late November in Manila, meaning the temperature was a mere eighty-degrees and we were presently in-between monsoons. I was sitting on the front porch in the humid tropical air, gazing out over Manila Bay and trying to catch a breeze.

It's funny how life twists and turns. Five years ago, this time, Margarita and I were making plans to attend the big December 7th pre-Christmas blow-out at the Manila Hotel. That era was gone forever ... like the age of the dinosaurs.

In August of 'forty-five, we got the word that the Japanese had surrendered. It was some kind of wonder weapon called an A-Bomb. I didn't know what an A-Bomb was, and I'd probably never hear of it again. But it finally returned peace to my world. So, I was grateful. The nightmare was truly over.

Missy and I lived in a tent city from February to April '45 while the Army fought one of the bloodiest urban battles since Stalingrad. That was mainly in Intramuros. So, Santo Tomas was relatively safe.

After they chased the Japs out of the area, we hitched a ride up to the family home. There, I found to my utter amazement and delight, that the place was untouched thanks to some nameless Japanese General who'd appropriated it for his headquarters.

The house was a mess. But it was heaven compared to the situation we'd been in for the past three years. Of course, the Filipino staff was gone, and my folks had fled to Honolulu on one of the last ships before the invasion. Now it was just the two of us all by ourselves.

Missy and I set up camp in the parlor while I put our life back in order. She would have nightmares if I didn't sleep near her. So, we sacked out for a couple of months on my parents' hideous overstuffed couches - she on one and me right next to her on another.

My Kitten had gained some of her weight back and the appendix scar had healed. She was always a sweet cheerful little bird. And I might add that her happy soul had brightened the lives of a few hopeless people, maybe even enough to save a few lives.

I'd taken some time to inventory my circumstances after the Japanese left. The good news was that I was still rich and likely to become a lot richer. My old man had transferred most of our family fortune to American banks when he fled to Hawaii. So, it was still available for me to draw on.

Better yet, the U.S. was about to drop a massive bag of cash in Grayson & Son's lap as part of rebuilding the Philippines. The retreating Japanese had looted our warehouse facilities. But due to their strategic value, some of the new government largesse was earmarked to rebuild and restock them.

The Filipino workers were still there, and the Anglo managers were getting back into shape after their three-year vacation in Santo Tomas. My dad's right-hand man, Mike Barnes, had survived and he'd told me that it would be business as usual by '47.

My dad had decided to stay in Hawaii, which left me as the nominal head of the Company in loco parentis. Then he abruptly died, which made me the new owner. That was early in 'forty-six. At least he'd lived to see the end of the war.

Since my dad was gone and there was never going to be another son, I arranged for Barnes to come in as a full partner. It was Grayson & Barnes now. Mike was twenty years older than me and a solid guy. He knew our business ... I didn't. So, he would make the money and I could devote myself to an idea that had been kicking around in my head since I left Santo Tomas.

I'd gotten a taste for doctoring. As a result, I was negotiating with the Philippine Board of Medical Examiners about what three years of unofficial residency at Santo Tomas amounted to in terms of getting me licensed.

My appointment with their Board of Examination was set for mid-January forty-seven. Fortunately, it was mainly composed of doctors who had spent time with me in the camp. In fact, Lewis was the head of the Board. So, my future looked bright except in one respect.