David and the SS Corregidor

It was a long time ago in a place far, far away.   It was the island of Luzon in the Philippines.

This is where David Goodman and the crews and boats of the U.S. Navy Motor Torpedo Boat Squadron 3 were on the night of Tuesday, December 16, 1941.   It was a new moon that night which meant that there was no moonlight thus making it a very dark night.   He and his crew mates were asleep in nipa huts in Sisiman Cove on the southern end of the island of Luzon.

                      Sisiman Cove

                            Nipa Hut
The PT Boats were normally based at the Cavite Naval Base near Manila Bay.    But the base had been attacked and destroyed by Japanese airplanes on December 10, 1941, so they shifted their base of operations to Sisiman Cove.   David was the radio man for torpedo boat PT-34 which was part of a squadron of six PT-boats:   PT-31, PT-32, PT-33, PT-34, PT-35, and
PT-41.   PT-34 was a famous PT boat and was featured on a poster during the war.

And it even had its own story in a comic book.

The residents of Manila were in a panic after the attack on the Cavite Naval Base.   They were trying desperately to escape the coming Japanese invasion.   The luxury liner SS Corregidor was an inter-island ferry traveling between Manila, Iloilo, Cebu, and Surigao.   Instead of departing at 3:00 pm as it usually did on its Tuesday schedule, it waited until 10:00 pm to depart so as to avoid a daytime air attack from Japanese planes.





The ship was leaving Manila on that dark Tuesday night loaded with approximately 1000 to 1500 passengers fleeing the coming Japanese invasion.   They were seeking safety on the island of Cebu further to the south.   The ship departed at 10:00 pm and was heading across Manila Bay on its way to Cebu.   The entrance of the bay was heavily mined.    These mines could be switched "on" or "off" from the Seaward Defense Command on shore.   Ships leaving the bay were required to notify Seaward Defense Command so that the mines could be switched "off".  Apparently Captain Apolinar Calvo of the SS Corregidor had not given any notification of their departure.   Around 1:00 am a gunboat, the USS Mindanao shined its lights

at the SS Corregidor as a warning that the SS Corregidor was off-course and heading for the armed minefield.   At around 1:00 am that night David and his crewmates were awakened by an enormous explosion.   They looked out over the black waters of Manila Bay and saw the dim outline of a ship sinking at the entrance to Manila Harbor.   It was the SS Corregidor.    It had struck one of the mines that were protecting the entrance to Manila Bay and harbor.   It was a 200 pound mine and the SS Corregidor sunk in four to five minutes.    David and his crewmates on PT-34 along with PT-32 and PT-35 left for the harbor entrance.   When they arrived there were numerous people in the water.   The water had a thick layer of oil on it from the SS Corregidor.   And the people in the water were covered with this oil.    The crewmen of the PT-boats put ladders over the sides of the PT-boats as well as casting ropes out into the water for people to grab onto and then they would haul the rope to the ship with the people holding onto the rope.   They would then lift the people onto the PT-boat which was difficult because the deck of the PT-boat was about three feet from the surface of the water.   It was a long distance to lift someone, especially when they were covered with oil and very slippery.    The other problem was that the deck of the PT-boat flared out slightly beyond the hull.   In the picture below the PT-boat is doing a daytime rescue with a pole and a rope loop.  You can see how the deck of the boat flares out from the hull.   On the PT-32, 34, and 35 boats they were trying to get the people in the water onto the boats as fast as they could before they drowned.

But as the people were pulled up, their life belts would catch on the lip of the deck making it even more difficult to get the survivors on board.    The cork blocks of the life belts were bulky and cumbersome as seen in the picture below.

The fabric of some of the life belts was so worn that the cork blocks could be seen through the fabric.   Each time a passenger was lifted aboard a PT boat their life belt would be thrown back into the water in the hopes that someone else in the water might be able to use it.    They worked all night and were exhausted when morning came and there were no more survivors to be rescued.    Of the 1000 to 1500 passengers, only 280 were saved.   The ship sank quickly, in about 5 minutes, and many were trapped below decks with insufficient time to reach the deck of the SS Corregidor.    Many owed their lives that night to David Goodman and his fellow crewmates on that dark night   To them, the sailors of the PT-boats were lifesavers, and were all heroes in their own right.   Some of the survivors were taken to Corregidor and some to the French ship SS Sinkiang.

                       SS Sinkiang

 

All of the survivors were eventually transferred back to Manila which is where they started from.   Seems like it was all for naught.    But there was a good ending for the survivors, they were eventually taken to Ilioli on the island of West Visayas which was their original destination.

Sometimes heroes are forgotten with the passage of time.   Let us not forget the heroes of the sinking of the SS Corregidor in Manila Bay at the outbreak of World War II in the South Pacific.    They all deserve to be remembered.

David Goodman then.

David Goodman in old age.   Still a hero.   Yeah, that is his wife making "bunny ears" with her fingers behind both their heads.   She had a terrific zest for life.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  



The Tank

I recently got to visit The Museum of Military History in Kissimmee, Florida.    Where is Kissimmee?   It is very very close to Disneyworld.   I saw a tank on display in front of the museum and I was fascinated by it.   I got pictures of it from the front, from the back, from both sides, and even from some of the corners.   There were distant shots and close-ups.   As you can guess, I got a lot of pictures.    I went inside and asked the man behind the counter what model of tank it was.   He smiled and chuckled a little and said it was a model made from plywood.    I was stunned.   They had done such a good job that it had fooled me.    I guess that when you look up "gullible" in the dictionary you will find my picture next to the definition.    I had been absolutely completely fooled.  

What do you think?   Would you have been fooled like I was?

The museum  is great inside.   So much to see.   The exhibits and artifacts just seem to go on and on.    They have a tour guide who takes people around and gives a very nice talk.   Yeah, that is an Indian motorcycle.

I happened to see this German staff car and it reminded me of the Volkswagon "Thing" that was produced in the 60's and 70's.



If in your travels you ever happen to come to Central Florida, be sure to visit the Museum of Military History.   It is definitely a must see.   And it is easy to spot, just look for the big yellow tank out front.   LOL.    Lew



 

   

 

David and Helen Goodman

At the end of the movie Schindler's List they show a line of people passing Oskar Schindler's grave.   The people are the remaining present day survivors of Schindler's list.   As they file past his grave each person places a stone on his headstone/marker.   When I saw the movie Schindler's List for the first time I didn't understand why this placing of the stones on the grave was done.

There was a couple whom I knew by the name of David and Helen Goodman.   They were an elderly couple who I use to see in our local Walmart.   They would sit and talk with people, either on a Walmart bench or usually in the dining area of a small restaurant within the Walmart.   Everyone knew them, both employees and customers, and people would gather around them to join in their conversation.   It was as if they were a king and queen holding court.   They were absolutely delightful to talk to and that is why the people would gather around them, including me.   Here is Helen making "bunny ears" with her fingers for David and herself.   Notice the pin on David's cap?  Answer:  Navy officer.     And the printing on the left side of his jacket?   Answer:   Disabled American Veterans.

Yes, Helen was the lively one and so full of life.   She would talk a mile a minute.   David was more on the quiet side.   They were always together.   I never saw one without the other.

As time passed Helen seemed to become more frail.   But she always "kept court" with her legion of friends at the local Walmart.   The picture below was taken 3 weeks before she passed, and yet she is always happy and smiling.

Helen passed on first and then David followed six weeks later.   This seems to happen when the husband and wife are very close and have been together a long time.   I guess that one can't survive without the other.   A friend attended their funeral and visited their grave later and sent me a picture of their marker.   And there, on their marker were some small stones that had been left behind by visitors, just like in the movie Schindler's List.

I became very curious about this placing of the stones on a grave.   So I did a search on the internet.   I found several similar versions of its meaning: 
   a stone is placed as a sign of respect
   a stone is placed to participate in the marking of the grave
   a stone is placed to let the deceased know that you were there.
All are very good versions.   I visited their grave and left my own stone, for all three of the above reasons.     I hope that this blog will give an idea of what these two individuals were like.  These biographical sketches were taken from their eulogies.  Many thanks to whoever wrote their eulogies.   It is good to remember our friends and not let them just pass into obscurity.   I have always liked people and I consider myself lucky to have shared some moments with these two individuals, David and Helen.   The first part is about Helen since she passed first.

Helen (Bazar) Goodman

January 3, 1926 – October 22, 2012

Helen was born in Brooklyn, New York.  Her  parents, Henry and Fay Bazar, were immigrants from Poland.   Her father worked as a presser in the garment industry, and her mother, Fay, tended to her keeping a traditional Jewish home.   Helen came of age during the Great Depression.   Helen was able to graduate from high school during these difficult times.   Typical of a teenage female student of the time, Helen took a secretarial curriculum in high school and for a time after graduation she engaged in secretarial work.
   On a blind date set up by her sister Selma, Helen met David Goodman, a Navy radioman, who had been a prisoner of war, and a survivor of the Bataan Death March.   Acquaintance turned to friendship and then to romance and a wedding on February 20, 1946.   A marriage of mutual love, care, and support for well over 65 years. 

David Goodman

May 27, 1920 – December 3, 2012

David Goodman was born in Brooklyn, New York on May 27, 1920.    His parents, Benjamin and Sarah Goodman were immigrants from Lithuania.   His father was a laborer.   David graduated from Brooklyn Technical High School but could not afford to go to college.   Instead, David wanted to join the Navy and see the world.   But David was only 17 years old and needed his parents consent to join up.   When he didn't get his parents consent he went on a hunger strike and quit eating, finally forcing a reluctant agreement that he could become a sailor if he would eat his dinner.    David became a radioman 2nd class in the Navy and served on a torpedo boat (PT-34) in the South Pacific.   In World War II he was captured by the Japanese and was held in a prisoner of war camp for 2 1/2 years.   He endured a living hell working as a slave laborer in a stell  mill, incurring malnutrition, disease, and tortuous medical experiments.    He was released from the POW camp in 1945 and returned to Brooklyn.   He met Helen on a blind date and they were married on February 20, 1946.   David graduated from Officer Candidate School and rose to the rank of Commissioned Warrant Officer (CWO2).    This is a picture of David as a Commissioned Warrant Officer.   Yeah, I know it is blurry but it is the best that I have. 



David was stationed in the Philippines when war with Japan broke out in 1941.   David was a radioman on a PT boat (boat PT-34).  He was captured in 1943 and spent the duration of the war as a prisoner of war.   He endured a living hell working as a slave laborer in a steel mill, incurring malnutrition, disease, and tortuous medical experiments.   He was liberated in 1945 and returned to Brooklyn.   He married Helen on February 20, 1946.

          In the late 1950's he was given orders to Germany without family.   David did not want to leave his wife and children so he decided to retire from his last duty station which was the Naval Air Station in Sanford, Florida.    He finally settled in Ocoee where I had the pleasure of talking with him and Helen.    David received numerous medals for his military service.   His medals include:
The Silver Star indirectly awarded by General MacArthur.   There is a small silver star located in the center of the larger gold star.   I guess that is why they call it the Silver Star medal.

On the reverse side is the inscription "FOR GALLANTRY IN ACTION".   I guess that speaks for itself.

WWII Victory Medal

And the reverse side of the WWII Victory medal.

Asiatic-Pacific Campaign Medal

Military Service Medal

SECNAV Commendation (Letter or Medal?) under the hand of then Sec’y of the Navy Frank Knox;

Philippine Defense Medal

On the reverse side it says

Good Conduct Medal

  Navy Presidential Unit Citation ribbon

Prisoner of War Medal

Awarded for actions during World War II
Radioman Second Class David Goodman NSN 2234320, United States Navy was captured by the Japanese after the fall of Corregidor, Philippine Islands, on May 6, 1942, and was held as a Prisoner of War until liberated by U.S. Military forces after the end of hostilities in August, 1945.
David was held as a Prisoner of War in the Kawasaki 5D POW camp until that camp closed on June 4, 1945.   Then he arrived at the Niigata 5B POW camp where he stayed until the Rescue Team arrived on September 5, 1945.   Both of these camps were in the Tokyo area.
Did you keep count on the total number of medals and citations that he received?   I counted 8.   How many did you count?   Please let me know in the comments section if I miscounted.   What a chest full of medals he must have had on his uniform.   Quite a feat.

      After leaving the Navy, David and Helen eventually settled in Ocoee, Florida.   He operated a radio repair shop for a while but eventually went to work for the Florida Department of Transportation, repairing and maintaining communications equipment.

    After the war until he died, David suffered from what we now recognize as Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.   We us to say some military came back from the was "shell shocked".   When he might wake up at night in terror, Helen was always there to comfort and reassure him that everything was alright.   She devoted herself to him completely.   They were devoted to each other.   David died six weeks after Helen on December 3, 2012.
     Shopping at Walmart just doesn't seem to be the same without Helen and David there.   I hope that this biographical sketch has given some insight into this remarkable couple.   Thanks for reading this.
Lew

Guardian

A long time ago (circa 1978) in a place far far away (San Diego) there was a beautiful park.   (I couldn't resist borrowing that phrase from the first Star Trek movie.)   This beautiful park in San Diego is called Balboa Park.

It was a huge park with many museums and buildings incorporated into it.    Even the San Diego Zoo was included in magnificent this park.   On weekends there was an endless variety of street performers from mimes to guitar strumming singers.   I enjoyed going to the park on weekends.   It was a great place to relax and have fun.   There was a club of people who grew bonsai plants.   I think that it was called the San Diego Bonsai Club.   They would periodically have shows and plants on display in one of the buildings in the park.   In addition to having small bonsai plants on sale they also had their large treasured bonsai plants on display.    These plants were amazing to see.

One day at the Bonsai show I talked to an oriental woman who was exhibiting bonsai plants.   She told me that these plants are passed down from generation to generation.   She showed me a bonsai plant that she treasured and had been passed down through four generations in her family.   She told me that she was so nervous that the plant might die while under her stewardship.   She was afraid that her relatives might blame her for the plant dying.   She told me that she would be so glad to pass the plant on to a younger generation and then the plant would be their responsibility and a heavy burden would be lifted from her shoulders.   I was sympathetic to her plight and her nervousness about the family bonsai plant.   That has to have been a really heavy responsibility.
     I don't have any bonsai plants but I do collect commemorative stamps.   Especially stamps that have never been used.   The unused stamps are nicer because they don't have any cancellation marks on them to mar the image on the stamp.   Everything is so crisp and clear on the unused commemorative stamps.

Can you see the difference in eye appeal between the unused stamp above and the used stamp below with the cancellation marks on it?   That is why I prefer unused stamps without the ugly cancellation marks.

I recently acquired one of these Alaska commemorative postage stamps which was issued by the post office in January 1937.   Currently it is August 2014.   So how old is it?   Excuse me while I do the subtraction.................I'm back.   I calculate 77 years old.   Do you come up with the same numbers?   Go ahead and do the calculation, I'll wait.  LOL!    But 77 years is truly a very long time ago.   Unused stamps still have the glue on the back of the stamp.    An unused stamp is rather unique and rare since most people who bought the stamp used it to mail a letter.   An unused stamp is not found on an envelope in a trunk in someone's attic.   Used stamps are found on those letters in the trunk.   This particular unused stamp has been faithfully saved and probably passed from person to person for those 77 years.   Perhaps from stamp dealer to stamp dealer or from collector to collector.   In a sense we don't really own the stamps.   We just hold them for a while and then we die and someone else has the stamp.   Someone had to be the guardian of this stamp making sure that it did not get harmed or damaged until it was passed on to the next guardian.   And so it went from guardian to guardian for 77 years.   Once I obtained one of these stamps I was now the guardian of the newly acquired of Alaska stamp.

Unfortunately, I did not keep it in a sealed container and some insect found it and ate the paper (probably to get the glue on the back of the stamp).   What a mess the stamp is.   I consider the stamp as ruined and useless.   Obviously I failed as guardian of this stamp.   After all those 77 years of this stamp being passed along from guardian to guardian and the chain ends with me.   You might say that I am like the woman who had the family Bonsai plant that she must carefully care for.   I hope that she had more luck with her Bonsai plant than I did with my 77 year old stamp.   I feel bad about the damage to the stamp from the standpoint that all of the work and care that my predecessors have done has now been for naught.   77 years down the tube.   It is only a stamp but now it will no longer be passed on.    Perhaps I could donate it to a local stamp club for them to show-and-tell of what not to do when caring for very old stamps.

Fortunately I have a spare stamp.   It is fine.   I now store my stamps in tight containers as well as my stamp book which is in a sealed ziplock plastic bag.   I learned my lesson.   By the way, the mountain in the background on the stamp is Mt. McKinley.
     Stamp collecting is fun but as I have learned it does carry a certain amount of responsibility with it.   As an example, there are only just so many of the unused Alaska stamps in around.   Each time one is destroyed then there is one less stamp left.   Of course that makes the remaining stamps a little bit rarer and worth a little bit more.   In my stamp collecting I like the commemorative stamps because of the stories that they tell.   I guess that is why they call them commemorative stamps.   And yes, sometime in the future my stamp collection will be passed on to someone else and they will eventually pass it on to someone, and so the story goes.    We all have our hobbies to make life interesting.   Have a great day.   Lew

Christmas Candy

Candy.    I love candy.   I have had a "sweet tooth" all of my life.   My parents didn't normally keep candy in the house except at Christmas.   They would get that hard Christmas candy that we have all seen and probably eaten at one time or another.

I especially liked the ones that were filled with a jelly or jam.   But let's not forget about the ribbon candy.   I would consume mass quantities of Christmas candy.

Each week on Tuesdays the school would empty out as the Catholic students went to the nearby Catholic church to receive religious instruction.   The few non-Catholic students would remain behind in the classroom and have a "study hall" for the afternoon.   I must admit that there wasn't much studying done on these Tuesday afternoon "study halls".   It was more of a time for fun and games.   Grade school was in a very old building which I just happened to like.   The picture below of my grade school is from a very old postcard.

My parents were Methodist but non-practicing Methodists.   One day when I was in the fifth grade and it was a Tuesday close to Christmas, all of the Catholic kids came back with a little box of those Christmas candies.   The box was shaped just like an animal crackers box, string and all.

But instead of having the box look like a circus wagon, the box was printed to look like a church.   I was stunned by this.   All of the Catholic kids had a box of Christmas candy.   I asked how much the box of candy cost.   They said that they were free and they got them from the nuns for going to religious instruction.   Insatiable greed started to possess me.   I wanted some of that free candy.   I went home that day and told my mother that I wanted to go to religious instruction at the Catholic church.   She said fine.   So on Tuesdays I went to religious instruction at the Catholic church with the Catholic students to be taught catechism.   A year went by and "by golly" at Christmas time I got my free box of Christmas candy from the nuns, and I was happy.   I continued going to religious instruction and the following year I got my little animal cracker style box loaded with Christmas candy, and once again I was happy.  This was followed year after year and I was happy because I kept getting my box of Christmas candy.   When I got into my junior or senior year of high school I decided to convert to Catholicism since that was the only religion that I knew.   I was baptized by Father Michael Gallucci.   Then in a few weeks I received my first communion and then later my confirmation.

   Now many years later I am a die-hard Catholic and would never consider any other religion.   But isn't it just amazing that the church won over a convert (me) for a small box of Christmas candy.    What a bargain for them.   Below is a crucifix that Father Gallucci gave me 60 years ago and I have kept it all these years and it is up on the wall.   It is one of my treasured possessions.

My parents moved from New York to Miami and I lost track of Father Gallucci.   I am sure that he must have passed on by now but I remember his words to me, "If I can get one person to convert to the Catholic religion then my life as a priest will be complete."   I was that one person.   The one who would make his life complete by converting to Catholicism.   He wanted me to go to a nearby Jesuit seminary and become a priest.   That didn't happen but my faith is deep.   Father Michael Gallucci is one of those people who are just exceptionally good.    Have a good holiday season and if you happen to eat any of those hard Christmas candies, just think of me.   Be blessed.   Lew