S/Sgt. A. Gorenfeld, 17th Infantry U.S. Army, c/o postmaster, Los Angeles, CA - via air mail

As for your questions about the war, it seems to me that the Jap defense on the Philippines is much less fanatical than it was at other places. They have abandoned tremendous supplies of guns and ammunition and have retreated from positions in great disorder instead of making the usual last ditch defense.

I am convinced that the majority would surrender if they were not held in check by their officers. On Kwajalein, there was a Jap officer who, in the closing hours of resistance, charged a U.S. tank with his Samurrai sword. He was cut to ribbons by machine gun fire.

That incident characterizes the whole war in the Pacific. It is a struggle between Japanese feudalism and American industrialism. The Japanese Army, just as in the case of that Japanese officer, thinks that the “spirit” of the Samurai warrior will prevail over the “materialistic” United States.

There is no question that this war is being won not only by the front line soldier, but by the producers on the home front. I think that if the people of Japan were not so thoroughly “propagandized” and could see the real picture, there would be violent repercussions in the home land.

I enjoy hearing the rain beat down on the roof. I makes you feel so smug and comfortable. We have cots now and sleep off the ground–just like civilized people.As for purchases of cloth–you seem to forget that economic life has been at a standstill here since the war. The only clothes the people have is what they possessed before the war.

Since we arrived there has been some stipulation of native cloth wearing. However, it is hardly suitable for making garmets that could be worn in the states. It is woven from threads made by drying strips of abaca. The abaca tree looks like the banana tree. The trunk is very soft and pulpy and can be torn by hand into long strips or threads which when dried make a very tough fiber. The Filipinos weave some very attractive table cloths and napkins out of this and I plan to buy some the next time we get paid. Right now my capital is non-existent.

Some of the schools have now opened here and life is beginning to approach normal conditions and civilization has finally come to the Filipines. You can see little Filipino boys carry caroon books–Dick Tracy, etc.–which they have been given by the fellows. You’d be surprised how the GI’s mother these kids. Quite a few now have “number one house boys” who do odd jobs around the camp–cleaning up, carrying water, etc–and in return they feed the kids & give them clothes, take them swimming and to the shows–just like a father. It only goes to show how home-sick and lonesome they are. The Nazi soldiers certainly must have a beating when they moved into the occupied countries and found that the people wouldn’t speak to them.

Do you realize how much it means to a soldier away from home to be able to talk to somebody other than a soldier. These people have certainly helped a lot. They invited a lot of guys to dinner on Xmas and often invite them to dances and baptisms. They wander through the camps soliciting clothes to wash, selling bananas, tangerines, onions, etc. There are even rumors that some of the guys have married, but I haven’t actually seen any weddings.

The Negro troops are quite popular here, The Filipinos think they are American Indians. Whenever a truckload of Negro soldiers goes by they attract lots of attention. The girls point to them & giggle. They think the boys are pretty cute. I suppose quite a few will marry here & settle down in the Philippines. Poor as these Philiinos are, their standard of living is still much better than that of many of the Southern Negroes and so-called “white trash.” They are very alert and enthusiastic about eduction. However, most of them would never be able to do more than go through high school. The girls will learn home-economics & the boys will study agriculture.

The salami is almost gone now. I was saving it for the beer, which is now aa week overdue, and finally could not resist no longer. If you can spare the ration points, I certainly could use another one. The last one arrived in excellant shape because you didn’t wrap it.

Despite heavy casualties, the Japanese mounted two more attacks on consecutive nights. Not until the morning of 27 November were American troops able to take the offensive, counting at the time some 400 enemy dead outside of their perimeter and discovering over 100 more along with 29 abandoned machine guns as they advanced farther northwards that day. The 7th Division soldiers dubbed the successful defense of the Damulaan area “the Shoestring Ridge battles” after the precarious supply system that supported them rather than after the terrain fought over.

After a few days’ rest and a rotation of units, General Arnold finally began in earnest his advance toward Ormoc with a novel tactic. On the night of 4 December vehicles of the 776th Amphibian Tank Battalion put to sea and leaped-frogged north along the coast 1,000 yards ahead of the ground units.

The next morning, the tanks moved to within 200 yards of the shore and fired into the hills in front of the advancing 17th and 184th regiments. This tactic proved effective, greatly disorganizing the defenders, except where ground troops encountered enemy pockets on reverse slopes inland, shielded from the offshore tank fire.

As the 7th Division pushed north with a two-regiment front, the 17th Infantry inland encountered heavy enemy fire coming from Hill 918, from which the entire coast to Ormoc City could be observed. It took two days of intense fighting against enemy units supported be mortar and artillery fire for the 17th and 184th regiments to clear the strongpoint, after which the advance north accelerated. By 12 December, General Arnold’s lead battalion was less than ten miles south of Ormoc City.

The results of my birthday party were quite interesting. The next morning a number of kids came to greet me with gifts of eggs, bananas, camotes and green onions. One little fellow of 15 is a particularly good friend of mine now. His name is Acquilino and when I gave him and his buddies some candy he said, in a very precise English: “I am so sorry sir, I have nothing to give you.”

I put my hand on his shoulder and said, “Acquilino, you have very much to give me–and that is your friendship.”

He was visibly touched–a lump came into his throat and then he smiled. The next morning he was back very early with a little sack of camotes. It is the only food the family has and I was not so sure he could spare it, but to refuse was impossible as I looked into that bright eager face.

So I took the camotes and gave him an armful of things that would be very useful at home. Acquilino wants to be a doctor but his family is too poor, so he will be a farmer like his father. His brother was a school teacher in a very small barrio (village), but when the Japs came in he was pointed out by spies as the leader of the underground movement. He was brutally beaten, then taken away and has not been heard of since.

Today I went native in a big way. I just finished a lunch consisting of coconuts and bananas and corn.
This morning we improved our shelters, which had a pretty rough time last night. It rained like the devil and there was a terrific wind. I was on guard last night and had an opportunity to witness the whole thing. It was so dark you could see nothing. I had the feeling that i was alone in a world of darkness and nothing else existed. The wind hammered the rain against my raincoat like nails.

Occasionally a flash of lighting would light the skies and I could see the branches of the palm trees waving about wildly in all directions, like the arms of a woman in agony–he long black air flying in the wind. There was a defeaning rush as the wind raced through the trees, and it sounded very much like the roar of a giant water fall. Now and then I could see a tiny little lightning bug caught in the current and being carried across the skies like a miniature comet.

Surprisingly, our little shelter stayed fairly dry but since our native friends predict more heavy rain for tonight, we thought it wise to strengthen our structure. We have learned how to weave mats out of the branches of palm trees. It produces a beautiful pattern–through each leaf runs a thin little yellow vein.

Goddamit. Our weather prophets proved to be only too accurate. I was sitting under the palm tree writing to you when there was a clap of thunder and the clouds collapsed. So on this sheet you will find several drops of famous Philippine rain. It’s a little difficult to write now so I’ll sign out.

Feeling fit as a fiddle. Take good care of yourself and Wm. we’re depending on you. Don’t worry–and keep busy. Write as often as you can. It’s mighty lonesome out here and letters from you are good medicine.