The Battling Bastards of Bataan

Distant music woke me up at 4am. I thought it was music of a nearby camper. Then I remembered: the Army band was getting ready to start the ceremonies for the marathon.

People all around me were getting up and getting ready. I stayed in the van until 5am and then walked over to the breakfast tent for coffee and a muffin. German and British teams were alongside US teams. A record attendance of close to 4400 marchers and runners were at this event.

The opening ceremony at 6:30am was touching. Rollcall was taken, and we learned that 32 regional Bataan veterans died since the last Marathon event. With over 1000 World War II veterans dying each day, this is a heavy loss. There were only 18 survivors at today's event.

The veterans were up front at the march, preceeded by a bagpipe team and followed by the Wounded Warriors: servicemembers from both the Iraq and Afghanistan war with mising limbs. Seeing those people marching past me made me choke back more tears. Talk about heroic acts. And later, after the event, I watched how one veteran with two prosthetic legs helped his buddy without a leg hobble to a van for transport. That legless veteran was aided by another veteran and both helped the legless man in the middle walk on. That was a perfect example of "I will never leave a fallen comrade."

It was a hot, dusty day. I jogged the first seven miles but from the start my thighs were feeling sore from the Mesa run. Once the uphills started at the 7th-12th mile, I walked. I jogged again near the 14th mile through the 20th. but stopped again at the 20th for two miles when I hit the sand pit. After the 24th I power-walked, which by then was faster than my jog.

"It sure is beautiful here" said one woman as I passed her.
"And it's so peaceful on the soul" I added, "I love the smell of the desert." It's the magical aroma of creosote, sage and mesquite that give the Chihuahua desert its trademark aroma. It's perhaps one of the best all-natural aroma therapies out there.

I jogged with Kevin's camera, photographing each mile sign and the surrounding mountains with walkers on the side. For three miles the course followed the same course going out, and I could see the many Military Heavy groups still behind me. I saw at least three servicemembers hobbling past with their artificial limbs. It takes a lot of courage to walk 26.2 miles with full gear AND prosthesis. Seeing those people struggle makes me feel ashamed to complain about my sore knees.

The only wildlife I saw were stink bugs on the ground, with their butts up in the air ready to spray any runner getting too close to them.

Bataan Death March survivors were at the finish line congratulating us. The thanks was reciprocated.

I finished in under my own expected time, which actually surprised me since I haven't completed a full marathon in almost five years, let alone trained for one. It was a slow time but when I think of the Bataan survivors I knew they were just hoping to survive the 65-mile march through the jungles of the Phillipines. I was just glad to finish today's march.

And, surprisingly my feet, which were duct-taped in a few crucial area based on blisters I've gotten in the last two months, were blister free! Now, if only I can just get the glue from the tape off my toes...

http://www.bataanmarch.com/
http://www.marathonguide.com/races/racedetails.cfm?MIDD=1604080330

No Mama, No Papa, No Uncle Sam

I made it to the White Sands Missle Range just after 2pm, host of the annual Bataan Memorial Death March Marathon. This is one event I've been wanting to complete for three years.

Survivors of the Bataan Death March (and there were 18 present) spoke to captivated audiences from 3-5pm. Five were in wheel chairs, one carried an oxygen tank and the rest were quite ambulatory. Some were in better health than others, but everyone's story was worthy of one's utmost attention. Some stood, some sat, some even forgot their train of thought, and even a few held back their tears. Still, meeting the shrinking group of survivors was for everyone present an honorable event. We clapped after every speech, we stood up to render respect, and we thanked each one for their sacrifices.

Some of the survivors were former enlistees, some were commissioned officers. And everyone had a fascinating story to tell.

"We were prepared to die" said one survivor.

"The best equipment was sent to the Phillippines." said another, referring to the poor artillery they had elsewhere.

"After the Japanese surrender there was no one among us wanting revenge (for Japanese atrocities against American prisoners.) because we were just glad to be alive" said Carlos Ortega, one of the survivors who wrote a book on his emprisonment. His son was in the audience.

"Dad, tell them the story about the flag" and Carlos proceeded to tell us how he, "Mr Betsy Ross" sewed an American flag that was later hoisted over the prison camp after the Japanese surrendered.

"We were crying as that flag went up" said Carlos, tears clearly swelling in his own eyes. The rest of us had tears swelling in our own eyes, too. One marathon review of the Bataan Memorial Death March marathon was right on: no one leaves the marathon dry-eyed.

And at least two survivors had unpleasant things to say about General MacArthur, who had ordered US troops to "fight to the last man," or of some of their former commanders.

This is one event I will make sure I do again next year, but next year Kevin will be with me because he loves the World War II survivors as much as I do.

The actual event is tomorrow morning at 7am, with a 6:30am opening ceremony for the survivors. The 26.2-mile event in loose sand uphill tomorrow will not even compare to the 65-mile march starving prisoners had to endure back in 1942. Some of the survivors weighed less than 100 pounds after that ordeal.