Paul Ruiz stops to take a picture at the 15-mile mark while taking part in the 26.2 mile Bataan Memorial Death March in the New Mexican desert. (Courtesy photo)

On March 19, 2017, over 7,200 participants gathered at the White Sands Missile Range (WSMR), in New Mexico to take part in the Bataan Memorial Death March (BMDM). Now in its 28th year, the 26.2 mile marathon-length course commemorates the sacrifices of those American and Filipino forces that fought the first ground battle for the United States during the opening months of World War Two, and subsequently endured one of the most horrific atrocities of the war, the Bataan Death March.
Unlike most marathons, relatively few actually attempt to run the course unique for its terrain, which winds through the high desert (3,500 elevation) along hard top roads, dirt lanes, and paths with ankle-deep sand. Also unique is the majority of participants who are U.S. military personnel, primarily Army, but inclusive of airmen, marines, and sailors who travel from all over the United States to this sparsely populated military outpost in the southeast corner of New Mexico. Many opted to register in the “Heavy Division,” which mandated a 35 pound (or heavier) rucksack weighed at the outset of the march. March organizers encouraged non-perishable food items which are then donated to the local food banks at the conclusion. The record number of marchers led to record numbers of donated food this year.
Approximately 30 percent of the participants were civilian entries who also had the option of registering in the heavy or light division. At age 53, with a slipped lumbar disk and a 2 year hip replacement, I opted to register in the “Light Division,” and limited my back pack to 18 pounds, which consisted of energy bars, Gatorade, water, extra socks, foot powder, and a light jacket for the chilly early morning start. I had trained for this march and traveled to the WSMR to honor my father, 1Lt. Jose Ruiz, on this 75th anniversary of the Death March when he had been a 27 year old soldier. He died in 1991, and for added inspiration, I included in my pack his rosary beads which my mother had recently given to me. My son, a De La Salle High School sophomore, accompanied me on this trip, and while this would be my third marathon and his first, I was correct in predicting he would have an easier time than me.
The crowd gathered in the predawn hours under bright lights on the large parade field. In the cool, still air, there was a palpable sense of excitement for the arduous daylong march ahead. There was also the profound understanding, reinforced by subsequent speakers, that this would commemorate and honor the tremendous sacrifices of allied forces three generations ago.
Opening ceremonies began at 6:30am that Sunday morning, and included the singing of the Filipino and American national anthems. Inspiring and motivational comments were made by the Base Commander and an Army Chaplain. Also addressing the early morning crowd was retired U.S. Army Major General Antonio Taguba whose father, like mine, had served with the famed Philippine Scouts of the United States Army and survived the Bataan Death March and subsequent prison camp. In addition to firing up the crowd, General Taguba reminded the participants that the day would be difficult, to take care of each other, and to remember that as strenuous as this desert marathon would be, it would not compare to the ordeal faced by those troops who endured several days of forced marching by their captors.
The Bataan veterans who attended, less than half a dozen and all in their 90s, were individually honored in front of the appreciative crowd. The names of those veterans who had died during the past year were read aloud, their names echoing in the surrounding mountains. Among the veterans attending was Ben Skardon, who was saved during the war by two of his Clemson University classmates who carefully tended to him while they were prisoners. They did not survive the war. Ben later became a beloved English Professor at Clemson and at this event, he had a large turnout of supporters known as “Ben’s Brigade” all wearing Clemson orange. I learned that Ben came to forgive his captors, found peace in his life, and to this day becomes very emotional when he recalls his friends who cared for him in the prison camp. I also learned that until recently, he was participating in the BMDM walking up to eight miles.
Two members of the U.S. Army’s Black Daggers parachute team provided an impressive demonstration, jumping from a helicopter high above the crowd and landing on a marker next to the five-man color guard near the front of the stage. The firing of a canon served to punctuate the solemnity of the event.

Bataan and Corregidor

On the Bataan peninsula, American and Filipino forces conducted a valiant, desperate, and ultimately doomed defense against the invading Japanese 14th Army and surrendered on April 9, 1942. Japan’s Dec. 7, 1941 surprise attack on Pearl Harbor was part of a coordinated offensive that shortly thereafter included Clark Airfield in the Philippines, effectively neutralizing air support for the U.S. and Philippine forces defending the islands. The well-equipped Japanese forces, accustomed to rapid victories in Asia, landed on the island of Luzon and moved southward toward the capital of Manila. Their Commander, Lt. General Masaharu Homma, expected to make quick work of the allied forces in the Philippines. He was given a 50 day time table with which to wrap up victory and move on to other parts of Asia, including Australia, where many of its troops were fighting in the European theater.
Celebrated U.S. Army General, Douglas MacArthur, was the Commander of the U.S. Armed Forces of the Far East (USAFFE). The backbone of his defense was the Philippine Division, and the backbone of that Division were the 1,600 soldiers of the 31st Infantry Regiment and 11,000 elite Philippine Scouts. The Scouts consisted of native Filipino enlisted men; trained by the U.S. Army; and led by American officers, many of them West Point graduates. Also under his command was the recently mobilized 200th Coast Artillery (New Mexico National Guard – which continues to honor their memory through this event). Other military personnel included marines, airmen, and sailors who eventually would fight as infantry alongside the Philippine Division.
As the Imperial Japanese Army moved south, MacArthur sent his forces north to engage the enemy. It soon became clear that repulsion of the enemy at its landing points was not possible and “War Plan Orange ” was initiated which called for the fighting retreat into Bataan while awaiting reinforcements. It was during the heroic defense of Bataan that the U.S. Army’s last horse cavalry charge was conducted by 1st Lt Ed Ramsey of the 26th Cavalry, Philippine Scouts. Colonel Ramsey would go on to fight as a guerilla to the end of the war and retire as a Colonel. As I write this, I learned that Sergeant First Class Dan Figuracion died at him home in Tacoma, WA. He was the last living member of the 26th Cavalry, Philippine Scouts.
During the defense of Bataan, three Philippine Scouts were awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor, the Army’s first during World War Two. 1st Lt. Alexander Nininger; 1st Lt. Willibald Bianchi; and Sergeant Jose Calugas. Only Sergeant Calugas would survive the war.
The troops on Bataan had fought a desperate and heroic delaying action along several defensive lines repeatedly repulsing the enemy. They waited in vain for reinforcements and supplies to come which had not been possible because much of the U.S. Pacific fleet was in ruins in Pearl Harbor. Additionally, with France’s quick surrender, and England desperately holding off the Germans, President Franklin Roosevelt agreed with Prime Minister Winston Churchill’s plan on a “Europe first” approach to allocating the United States’ limited military resources. With this, the troops on Bataan and Corregidor were doomed, and General MacArthur was ordered to evacuate to Australia. The United States did not need the public relations nightmare of one of its most decorated generals in Japanese captivity. This would also preserve one of their best military minds for the eventual counterattack. It was during MacArthur’s departure from the Philippines that he issued his famous pledge of, “I Shall Return.”
The USAFFE forces survived on partial rations, and eventually resorted to slaughtering their cavalry horses for food. MacArthur’s replacement, General Jonathan Wainwright, a cavalryman, was the first to offer his beloved horse. Starving, and without sufficient medicine, malaria and dysentery broke out among the troops. Even munitions had to be judiciously used. Still, the USAFFE forces extracted tremendous casualties on their Japanese invaders and disrupted the Japanese timetable for conquest of Asia, providing the United States valuable time to regroup under MacArthur and Admiral Chester Nimitz.
It was during this time of feeling utterly abandoned by the United States that the famous Battling Bastards of Bataan poem was written by journalist Frank Hewlett in 1942:

“We’re the Battling Bastards of Bataan;
No mama, no papa, no Uncle Sam.
No aunts, no uncles, no nephews, no nieces;
No pills, no planes, no artillery pieces.
And nobody gives a damn.”

It was on April 9, 1942 that the order was given to surrender to the Imperial Japanese Army, and the island fortress of Corregidor would fall one month later on May 6 after heavy prolonged artillery barrages.
Following the surrender on Bataan, approximately 75,000 Filipino and American troops, already starving, wounded and sick, were forced marched 65 miles northward to the O’Donnell prison camp. During this several day march, they were often denied food and water, even though it was available. Those who fell or otherwise could not keep up were shot, bayoneted, or beheaded. Civilians on the roadside who tried to help were also brutalized. Other atrocities included being tied to poles and left to die from the intense heat, and being forced to dig graves and bury their comrades alive. Approximately 9,000 Filipino and 1,000 American soldiers died during the Bataan Death March.
The horrors did not end at the conclusion of the march. Soldiers were packed shoulder-to-shoulder into stiflingly hot and suffocating railroad cars which took them several miles further towards the prison camp. Those who died standing up had no room to fall. Once at O’Donnell prison camp, the death rate reached 370 per day. Some of the Filipino prisoners were paroled as an act of goodwill by the Japanese later to fight as guerrillas. The Americans were taken either to Cabanatuan prison several miles north to wait out the war, or transported on “Hell Ships” to work as slave laborers in Japan. Many of them died when these unmarked ships were sunk by U.S. submarines.
Over the past 26 years, since my father’s death from cancer at the age of 76, I have sought to learn more about the brave soldiers who fought on Bataan, with a particular interest in the Philippines Scouts. As part of a generation that has grown up on the shoulders of this “Greatest Generation” and reaped the rewards of freedom and opportunities for success, I wanted their legacy to remain appreciated. With several likeminded friends from different parts of the country who have fathers, grandfathers, and uncles who fought on Bataan, we came to WSMR to push ourselves to our individual limits in their honor. I brought my son along so he too could learn of his grandfather’s heroism, and that of his comrades. Also, with immigration being such a talked about subject of late, I wanted him, as the son of immigrants, to have no doubt in his American heritage.

Start of the March
By the close of the ceremony at 7 a.m., the sun had risen and the temperature had started to warm. Leading the front of the marathon were U.S. veterans, some who had lost limbs during the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq. They were followed by active duty military in the Heavy Division, followed by those in the Light Division (carry packs less than 35 pounds, or no packs), followed by the Civilian Heavy, the Civilian Light, and finally the honorary marchers who would attempt a 14 mile version of the course.
As the march started, I was struck by the beauty of the sun on the surrounding mountains and the sheer vastness of the desert. WSMR is “The Birthplace of America’s Missile and Space Activity,” as noted on the welcome sign at its entrance. Sixty miles north of El Paso, Texas; and approximately thirty miles from Las Cruces and Alamogordo, it feels like what it is, the middle of nowhere – a perfect place for the Army to test its missiles. As a child, I occasionally heard my father reminisce about WSMR where he retired from the Army in 1960 after a 26 year career. He would mention Las Cruces or Alamogordo as part of those memories. Growing up in San Francisco in the 1970s where driving over the Bay Bridge was generally unnecessary for my family and the now thriving East Bay towns of Brentwood and Walnut Creek were unheard of and never visited by my 10-year-old self, Las Cruces and Alamogordo might have well been on Mars. Being with my teenage son at the military post where my father concluded his Army career while simultaneously participating in this march to memorialize his sacrifices 75 years previously in the jungles of Bataan, was an utterly profound experience for me, even if it was for my son more of an interesting and novel physical challenge.

Part 2 will continue in a later edition.

Paul Ruiz is an insurance executive in San Francisco. He is a member of the Philippine Scouts Heritage Society and is planning its 75th reunion June 30, 2017. For more information or to register, you can visit their website at www.philippine-scouts.org.

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