Johlerpow and Zale et al.

Remembering Bataan

Dorothy Johler wrote on April 10, 2014:

“A cool breeze brushed against my face as I took my daily walk around the complex.

There is always something in bloom and the weather is especially nice on the Spring.  The birds of the air wait for me. As I stroll around the complex and look upward, many fly overhead. Others are perched in the treetops; chirping, singing and fluttering their wings.

As I open the gate to the tennis court…my weariness departs and my spirit is awakened by a scent that I recognize.
On the outside perimeter of the fence, in the corner,  is a towering tree that is trying hard to survive. Beside it, was the source of my delight, another beautiful tree with little white aromatic buds that awaken my senses. I smile and no longer feel alone. Standing in the silence, for just a moment, I feel peaceful. As I  watched a pair of cardinals fly overhead, I listened to the piercing cries of seagulls as they scavenged overhead for food. As I strolled around the tennis court, trying to awaken my muscles, the fragrance covered me like a soft fleecy blanket.

In the next moment, my spirit seemed to transcend time and I was a child again, strolling through the wooded areas behind our house. There are trees like this everywhere and after a long and icy cold winter, as the buds burst open, the air was filled with that same fragrance. After I lingered for several moments, my spirit leaps again through time to a beautiful Victorian town in Central, Florida. As I traverse the town I notice there are many flowers in  bloom. To my hearts delight, this beautiful aromatic tree resides here as well. As I turn the corner the magnificent aroma from the ivory white flowers appear and make my spirit dance. I grasp a branch and pull it close to my face so I can smell the beautiful fragrance. I close my eyes and feel  deeply connected to Kiros time where there are no clocks and no schedules to keep.

As the sun rises, a loud siren pierces the silence; almost competing with the planes as they depart the local airport . Just outside the gate, I see cars rushing by and I see a traffic helicopter overhead.

As I return home from my walk, I pour a freshly brewed cup of coffee and still feel the peace of that moment.

The fragrance is still alive and it asks to be remembered before the petals fall.”   Dorothy Johler  (daughter)

On April 9, 1942, Bataan Peninsula  in the Philippines was surrendered to the Japanese.  On April 10, 1942 :

“Bataan Death March begins as 76,000 Allied POWs including 12,000 Americans are forced to walk 60 miles under a blazing sun without food or water toward a new POW camp, resulting in over 5,000 American deaths.”  ( historyplace.com ).

My dear friend, Karen Zale, is the daughter of the late John Zale who was on the Death March and survived captivity. Karen recently participated in the Annual Bataan Memorial March in New Mexico, to remember these courageous men. I will include the narrative in a later post. Karen Zale transcribed  her father’s story from a video interview that was done in Buffalo, New York.  John Zale was a friend of my father, Jacob J. Johler. Both were interned at Camp Hoten in Mukden, Manchuria.

Joseph “Joe” Fragale was also on the Bataan Death March. “Joe” interned in a prison camp in Japan.
Joe Fragale was the best man at Jacob and Marie Stoiber’s wedding which took place one year after liberation.

An American Ex-POW group was spearheaded by these men and others in Buffalo, New York.

Karen Zale had this to say about the Memorial March:

“As you can imagine, participating in the 25th Annual Bataan Memorial March at the White Sands Missile Range
in New Mexico was an experience I will never forget.
Prior to the march, which was held on Sunday, 3/23/14, there were several events to attend. First, however, were
the very long lines for registration, with over 6,200 participants. While in the various lines (roster, pick up bib
number, activate “chip” to be worn on shoe, t-shirt pick-up, etc.) I mentioned to folks that I was there to march for
my dad. One lady, Melodie, took my photo and put it in her blog, which I forwarded to you. Most of the people I
spoke with did not know anyone who was in the Bataan Death March. After waiting in a long line to “meet and
greet” the ex-POWs who were there, they shut the line down just before my turn, saying the men needed a break
and were all very fatigued. I did, however, get to hug and shake hands with four of the survivors who were at the
finish line on the day of the march.
On the Friday before the March, my brother and I attended the annual dinner of the Guardians of Bataan. The
group is made up of over 100 members who are either descendants of survivors who who have an interest in
furthering the remembrance of the Bataan Death March. The guest speaker was awesome; she is the
Commander of the White Sands Missile Range, Major General Gwen Bingham, and she spoke individually to
each of us and shook our hands. A very humble woman.
On Saturday, Allen and I attended the joint annual meeting of the Descendants of the ADBC and the Guardians
of Bataan. Most, but not all, were descendants.
The day of the march was very cold and we had to be on base before they closed the gates at 5:00 am, asking
that the marchers arrive by 3:30 am to clear security, be directed to parking areas, and then walk some distance
to the staging area. At sunrise the sun peeked over the horizon and the rays hit the American flag that was
blowing in the wind, with a backdrop of the high mountains with first rays of daylight illuminating them. I got
goosebumps when they played reveille and started the roll call for those Bataan survivors who were on the stage.
When their name was called, they responded with “present.” That is when the tears started to flow for me and
those around me. The names were then read of those POWs who passed away in 2013 and Taps was played.
Emotions ran high. I cried like a baby. Then they started the bag pipes who lead the procession out of the
staging area and the march had begun, with canons booming in the distance. The crowd of 6,200 marchers
began the long haul of either 14.5 miles or 26 miles, most of us carrying backpacks. I was on sensory overload.
It was not an easy march, with very strong winds blowing the sand in your face. The bandana to cover my face
was much needed in spots. The sand was deep in places, along with rocks and stones that and made the footing
uneasy most of the time. When I was crossing the finish line after 4 hours and 19 minutes of marching, I held
two little American flags in my hand that I was waving and I was shouting that my dad was a survivor and the
crowd was cheering and clapping. I cried crossing the finish line completely overtaken by emotion. It was such
an honor to be a participant in this event to honor and remember those who were forced to march 72 years ago.
We must Always Remember the Battling Bastards of Bataan.”
–Karen Zale

Thank you Karen for remembering.