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About the Book
One man's story about how growing up on the farm prepared him for Battan, Corregido, Cabanatuan, a Hell Ship, the POW camp at Hirohata, Japan, and the life-long effects of being expendable in the eyes of President Roosevelt.

About the Author
Quentin R. Sabotta was born in Trempeleau County, Wisconsin, on January 4, 1920. In 1940 he joined the Army Air Corps when he ran out of money for college tuition and soon found himself in the Philippines. For 3-1/2 years he was a prisoner of the Japanese, both in the Philippines and Japan. After liberation, hospitalization and recovery, and discharge from the Army, he graduated from Winona State College serving as Senior Class President in 1948. He then graduated from the University of Minnesota with a MA degree in Educational Psychology. His professional career included 25 years with the Cedar Rapids, Iowa, Community School District and 35 years with Vocational Rehabilitation.

Sample Excerpt
Chapter VI - Mariveles

After our involvement in the Battle of Aglahoma Bay, our unit was assigned to beach defense along the Mariveles peninsula. This was a somewhat mountainous terrain with a few rather short spikes jutting out into the sea. We proceeded to establish gun emplacements on these in a general effort to discourage the Japs from trying to make any sneak attack along this coast. I was one of three men assigned to a gun position that was on the peak closest to Corregidor and we were manning it twenty-four hours a day.

On the night that Bataan fell it was my turn to stand the watch. It was clear and calm that night and as I looked out toward the sea it was picture of serene tranquillity. However there was tension in the air that was grimly foreboding. We had received word the day before that the Japs were waging a massive assault on our front lines and it was feared that our defenses could not repel the attack. The word came through about midnight that the Japs had been able to penetrate on two points and it was felt that they would soon be overrunning the entire peninsula of Bataan. There was a phone at our position and I decided to eavesdrop and get the latest word. I heard the orders coming down from headquarters to unit commanders that they were to destroy all arms, ammunition and gasoline, etc. and have the men gather at the Mariveles air strip. While this word had been deemed inevitable for some time, it was shocking to realize that it was finally happening. As I listened further on the phone lines it was disturbing to me to hear officers talking to each other and saying farewell with such foreboding statements as "Don't know where we'll meet again." What really shook me up however was hearing my own commanding officer making a mutual pact with his best friend, "If I don't make it back, please go tell my wife...." This brought home to me the fact that our struggles were not really over and that perhaps the greatest battle of all lay ahead.

By daybreak we had followed orders and destroyed all weapons and were gathering at the Mariveles airstrip. My two buddies from the gun position and I agreed that we would try to stick together. At the airstrip several thousand men appeared to be coming out of the hills from all directions. All were milling around waiting for further word. There appeared to be some Japs coming down the road although we had not made any direct contact yet. Then about ten o'clock in the morning a flight of three Jap bombers appeared and proceeded to bomb and strafe us in this most vulnerable position. This really created havoc and everyone seemed to scatter toward the outskirts to avoid the gunfire. In the confusion that followed my buddies and I decided that we would try to slip away and hid in a cave along the coastline. We were familiar with the area and thought we might be able to hide until dark and then try to head back to Corregidor. We also knew where there was fishing banca (a 15 foot dugout canoe with an outrigger) anchored and we commandeered it for our efforts. We were only a few hundred feet from the airstrip we were very worried that our presence would be detected.

As darkness began to fall we floated our banca and headed for Corregidor. Because Corregidor was only seven miles away at that point our plan seemed to us to be quite reasonable. Unfortunately we were not sailors and obviously uninformed of the ways of the sea. What we didn't realize was that this seven mile strip of water was actually a channel connecting Manila Bay to the sea and that at this time of day the tide would be going out. We paddled vigorously for a couple hours and kept our eyes glued on the target but began to realize that we were actually further from Corregidor than we were at the beginning. It became obvious then that we needed to change our course somewhat and get away from these tide waters. After an hour or so the tides slackened and we could again make our course directly toward Corregidor.

Our diet for the past two months had been cut to something like half-rations and hunger was taking its toll. We had long passed the point of exhaustion but the realization that we were now making progress toward our objective inspired us to keep struggling. When we finally hit the beach some Marines who were stationed nearby came to help us. But I was so completely spent that I simply fell on the sand and laid there for what seemed an eternity. In all of my experiences I know that I have never been closer to death than I was that night.

The next day we were taken to Marine Corps headquarters where we became officially attached to the 4th Marines. We were then assigned to a gun position on topside where the objective was once again to prevent any Japanese infiltration. While up to this time Corregidor had already survived an incredible number of bomb raids, but now a new dimension was being added. The fall of Bataan had enabled the Japanese to set up their artillery positions on the mountainside that gave them a very marked advantage. Unfortunately the mighty guns of Corregidor were placed so as to protect from assault behind could not be pointed toward Bataan. We were at the mercy of the Japanese artillery.

Adding to my personal woes was the fact that I began to realize that I had contracted amoebic dysentery somewhere on my travels to Marivelos and I was now becoming very ill. My memory of details at this point is very vague but I do recall being carried on a stretcher into the hospital section at Malinta tunnel. From my hospital bed I was able to watch General Wainwright leave the tunnel to make the formal surrender of the American forces in the Philippines.

These were times of anxiety and despair for everyone around. The nurses who cared for patients in the hospital and tried to build up their morale were suffering and facing the same fears. A nurse who had been caring for me had told me that she was engaged and had planned to be married at Christmas in Minneapolis. But now there was a great deal of uncertainty as to what everyone's fate would be. Japan's refusal to accept and abide by the rules developed at the Geneva Conference was very unnerving. There certainly was a lot of bitterness over the fact the help that we had been promised never came.

Catalogue Information
National Library of Canada Cataloguing in Publication Data
Sabotta, Quentin R., 1920-
When help never came
ISBN 1-55212-740-0
1. Sabotta, Quentin R., 1920- 2. World War, 1939-1945--Prisoners
and prisons, Japanese. 3. World War, 1939-1945--Personal
narratives, American. 4. Prisoners of war--United States--Biography.
5. Prisoners of war--Japan--Biography. 6. Prisoners of
war--Philippines--Biography. I. Title.
D805.J3S22 2001 940.54'7252'092 C2001-910665-3