Soldier who refused surrender in Pacific

hi. i'm trying to locate the name of a soldier who refused orders to surrender early in the war of the pacific. i read about it years ago, but the soldier's name slipped my mind. i know that the soldier went into the hills of the island where he was serving and survived the entire war. he tried to signal american ships but never succeeded.

i know that macarthur sent a number of men to fight as guerillas on the philippines, but i believe all of them were captured or surrendered. this soldier was not one of them. he did what he did on his own initiative and was never captured. but it's possible he was also in the philippines.

if anyone knows his name, i'd really appreciate it. thanks!

 

sorry, forgot to mention this was an american soldier, not japanese.

 

Do you know what unit was he in? It can be a start to find the name of the soldier.

 

hi. i really don't. i know he had a brief period of fame after the war and maybe even wrote a memoir, but that's about it. thanks.

 

Lt. Col. Edward Ernest McClish
Lt. Col./Col./(self-appointed brigadier general) Wendell Fertig
Ensign/Major Iliff D. Richardson

and I am sure a few more that I have forgotten.

 

Richardson wrote a book immediate post-war, and it was later turned into a movie, but not released until 1950.

 

thanks. i was thinking of a different guy but all three of these are very helpful.

 

Turns out Wikipedia has a list:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_American_guerrillas_in_the_Philippines

Perhaps you man is on it.

 

I seem to recall reading not too long ago an account of one on one of the other Islands possibly Guam but I'm not at all sure. I think he was part of an Embassy staff and when the Japanese invaded he took to the hills when the staff surrendered. Eventually linked up with US forces just before their invasion of the island. Of course if he was on an Embasy staff that makes it more likely he was a Marine than a soldier.

 

this is all great. thanks!

 

The holdout on Guam was George Tweed:

From: Bureau of Naval Personnel Bulletin, September 1944, page 8. see:
http://www.navy.mil/media/allhands/acrobat/ah194409.pdf

Start

George R. Tweed, a native of Portland, Ore., was stationed on Guam as a radioman first class, USN, when the Japanese landed there in December 1941. This is the story, told mostly in his own words, of the fall of that U. S. outpost in the Pacific before overwhelming enemy force-and of how Tweed spent the 31 months from then until he escaped to a U. S.-Warship in July this year, shortly before the re-conquest of the island by Americans.

“On the morning of 8 December (East Longitude time) about 5 o’clock,” he related after his rescue, “I was awakened at home and told to report to the communications office; that the Japanese had bombed Pearl Harbor and Manila.

“It was about 9 a. m. when the first Jap planes came over. They proceeded directly to Sumay, where they bombed the Standard Oil tanks and barracks of civilian construction workers.

“I was sent up that afternoon to a hill in a particular area with a portable radio to maintain communication with the communications office in town (Agana), as the telephone connection had been destroyed. While I was there the Japs came over and bombed and strafed for an hour and 20 minutes.

“On returning to Agana at 2:30 p. m., I was told my house had been bombed. One bomb had dropped in town, and it was on my house.”

Before dark on the evening of the second day ships were sighted on the horizon.

“I stayed at the communication office until midnight and then went home to the wreckage of my house. I dragged the bed out of the shattered bedroom and put it back where there was still some roof left.

“The Japanese made a landing about midnight, or in the early morning of the 10th, East Longitude time. I was awakened about 2 a. m., by machine gun and rifle fire but I’d been up so late and was so tired I was foggy and it didn’t occur to me what it was.

“About two hours later they had brought field artillery ashore and they commenced using it. That brought me out of bed. I put on my clothes and went toward the communication office.

“The marines fought the Japs street by street, house by house. One squad of marines at the civilian jail had two tommy guns. They fought to the last.”

Tweed said the Japs slowly battled their way into the town plaza, arriving before dawn. They set fire to a native house for illumination. Then they started pointblank shelling of the Governor’s palace.

“The marines didn’t retreat,” Tweed continued. “I was at the Governor’s palace with a dozen Navy men and about the same number of insular forces, as well as the Governor and most of his officers. This was about day-break the third day. The Governor issued an order to surrender.

“I wondered what to do. I could surrender or go into the bushes. I went into the bushes. . . . I expected the Americans to soon and take the place away from the Japanese.

“The Japanese were in Agana and had set up a machine gun on the street through which I had to escape. I got my car, a 1926 Reo, and started to make a run for it. Once underway, I figured, I could swing away from the machine gun and race up a steep hill toward the bush country.

“As I swung around a corner with my foot pressed all the way down on the accelerator, the Japs opened fire and bullets spattered around the car.

“Later, I met another Navy radioman, and the two of us rounded up what canned food we could find, then drove 10 miles from town. We hid the car in the bushes, took to the jungles and soon met three other Navy enlisted men.

“We ate the food we had and kept out of sight. On Sept. 12, 1942, the Japs grabbed two of our group and killed them. They located two more in a hiding place the following month and killed them Oct. 22.”

Tweed doggedly kept ahead of his pursuers, who, he said, were “stupid.” After the first year he gave up hope.

“I felt I would sooner or later be caught,” he said. “But I was determined to do my utmost to postpone that day as long as possible.”

Tweed moved frequently, hiding in ravines and scaling mountains, always ahead of the Japanese, who never gave up the search. Several times the Japs learned where he was hiding, but each time he managed to elude them.

Finally he discovered a high cliff facing the sea. It was such a barren rock he didn’t believe the Japanese would ever look there and locate his cave. The Japanese finally stopped searching for him, apparently believing him to be dead.

He caught rain water for drinking and washing and made weekly nocturnal forays for food. Dreams of American food, especially coffee and bread and butter, all but drove him mad, he said, as he ate insects, rodents, roots and wild fruits.

On 11 June this year the Americans made their first heavy bombing attack on Guam. Tweed had a good place on the island, from which, on occasion, he could see smoke rising from the port area after an American attack. By deduction he soon figured out that Americans had invaded Saipan.

“At the beginning,” he said “our planes came over from the southeast and then they started coming from the north. I figured the fleet was operating up there. And another thing: I saw Japanese planes heavily loaded with bombs flying northward. Then I was pretty certain.”

One day he saw an American plane come over low, and he waved and shook his hands together above his head. The pilot saw him and flashed his lights in recognition. Later Tweed was picked up by a warship.

“I got on board and was taken down to the officers’ mess room, where they provided me with food. But the first thing I reached for was a slice of bread and some butter. I’d dreamed of it for two years.”

He looked out over the sea and saw the task force of which his ship was a part. To the rescuing admiral he said in amazement: “Where did we ever get such a big Navy?”

The admiral smiled. “This is only a part of it,” he replied.

Tweed was uncertain about what clothes to buy: Just before the war he had taken examinations for chief radioman, and he did not want to buy petty officer clothing if his promotion had not been approved.

The admiral solved the problem. He promoted Tweed to CPO on the spot. Arriving in San Diego, Calif., to join his family, Tweed found he had changed so much they hardly recognized him. At 41 his hair had turned gray from his long ordeal. He had lost 20 pounds and still was haggard. He spoke slowly, almost painfully, because he had not used his voice for a long period of time when he was alone on the island. Tweed was never officially declared dead by the Navy Department, but had been listed on the records as “missing in action.” After his rescue he received a check for his accumulated pay. It came to $6,207.

End

And from: Bureau of Naval Personnel Bulletin, October 1944, page 53, see:
http://www.navy.mil/media/allhands/acrobat/ah194410.pdf

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Warrant Officer Tweed Gets Legion of Merit - The Legion of Merit has been awarded Radio Electrician George R. Tweed, USN, who eluded Japanese on Guam for 31 months until rescued on 10 July 1944 by a U. S. destroyer (INFORMATION BULLETIN, September 1944, p. 8).

With the aid of friendly natives, he managed to subsist on the Jap occupied island and to obtain much valuable information regarding the occupation forces. Ingeniously attracting the attention of the destroyer, operating two miles off shore, he signaled messages by semaphore to reveal that a Japanese battery of six-inch guns concealed on Adelup Point remained undamaged.

After being rescued, Mr. Tweed furnished information which made a vital contribution to the recapture of Gum. Since his rescue he has been promoted from radioman first class to warrant rank.

End

And from: Bureau of Naval Personnel Bulletin, December 1944, page 44, see:
http://www.navy.mil/media/allhands/acrobat/ah194412.pdf

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Radio Electrician George R. Tweed, USN, who spent two and a half years on Guam while the island was. occupied by the Japs, returned there recently for 10 days on a special assignment and thanked the natives who helped hide him during his strange exile (INFORMATION BULLETIN, Sept.1944). “If I named every loyal native who helped me on Guam,” he said, “I’d come up with a list a foot long.” Mr. Tweed was especially pleased to find that Antonio Arturo, a native rancher of Spanish descent, had not been harmed by the Japs. The enemy had learned, just about the time Tweed got away, that Arturo had been sheltering the American. As a searching party closed in on the ranch, however, Arturo - with his wife and eight children - escaped to the same cave where Mr. Tweed had lived for nearly two years, and remained safely there until the island was liberated by U. S. forces.

End

From: ALL HANDS - The Bureau of Naval Personnel Bulletin, July 1945 page 20, see
http://www.navy.mil/media/allhands/acrobat/ah194507.pdf

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The warships swung around, their broadsides bristling at the island. The big guns leveled . . . and blasted. Huge black-white plumes of explosions, like some strange foliage blooming with mystic speed and splendor, piled up from the island to the blue sky. The guns hammered away.

On a battleship bridge stood Jesus Perez, StM2c, USN. Field glasses, dimmed and damp with tears, were pressed against his drawn, brown cheeks. As he frowned through the glasses, Perez could see neat little white houses on the island’s hillsides crumble like so many soda crackers being crunched under sledge hammers. One by one, two by two, six by six, row by row, the houses vanished in the dust . . . and into dust.

It was the pre-invasion bombardment last summer of Guam - Perez’s homeland. And one of the neat little white houses that he saw blasted to bits was his own home . . . wherein he had dwelt with his mother and 12 brothers and sisters.

Before the bombardment, the Navy had authoritatively determined that friendly natives were not in the range of the ships’ gunfire, but, even so, when the ships ceased fire and steamed away, the little Guamanian, who is personal steward to an admiral, must have wondered about the safety of his beloved ones who were somewhere on the island. Months later, he obtained a leave and hurried anxiously to Guam where he found all members of his family safe . . . including two brothers who had been tortured by the Japs for refusing to divulge the whereabouts of George Tweed, the Navy warrant officer who eluded the Nippos for three years on Guam.

End

And lastly, from: ALL HANDS - The Bureau of Naval Personnel Bulletin, August 1948, page 34, see http://www.navy.mil/media/allhands/acrobat/ah194808.pdf

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Publication of an underground newspaper under the very noses of the Japs during the war didn’t present too many production problems to Lieutenant George R. Tweed, USN, who successfully evaded capture for 31 months on Guam.

The 45-year-old naval officer retired last month with memories of his brief journalistic experiences in 1942 when for five months he kept native Guamanians informed of the war’s progress through a laboriously prepared daily.

News from a San Francisco shortwave station was received by a radio receiver built by Tweed. Using a battered typewriter, the former RM1 would type the news, making as many carbon copies as he could. When he ran shy of “newsprint” an “ad” inserted in an issue brought quick response-paper, carbon paper and onion-skin paper being supplied by residents in the area. His office was in the jungle and his circulation staff consisted of friendly natives who supplied him with food. Tweed remained on the island, a hunted man, for two years and four months.

Finally, when American forces started to retake the island, Tweed was rescued by the destroyer USS McCall (DD 400). From RM1, he was made a CPO, returned to the United States, advancing through warrant to lieutenant in which rank he served in or around Washington, D.C. until his retirement after 21 years Navy service.

Tweed left for Medford, Ore., with his wife and two children, a boy, 26 months, and a girl, 15 months old. He plans to purchase a small farm in the northwestern state.

End

Awarded the Navy-Marine Corps Medal for their parts in extracting Tweed from his hideaway and evacuating him out to the USS McCall were:

Lieutenant (jg) Robert H Shaw, USNR, Sausalito, Calif, USS McCall. [ALL HANDS - The Bureau of Naval Personnel Bulletin, December 1946, page 47]
Ensign Robert W Dean, USNR, Sledge, Miss, USS McCall. [ALL HANDS - The Bureau of Naval Personnel Bulletin, March, 1947, page 45]
William T Whitenack, QM3c, USNR, East Orange, N. J. USS McCall. [ALL HANDS - The Bureau of Naval Personnel Bulletin, June 1945, page 65]

Regards

Rich

 

That's the one I was thinking of. Thanks for all the details.