In its own little corner of made-in-Japan hell on Bataan Peninsula, Douglas MacArthur's American-Filipino Army clung grimly to the last U.S. soil on Luzon. The Jap charged and charged again. He was thrown back. Through the jungles he filtered by squads and smaller groups. Usually he came to an ugly end, but often he did plenty of damage before he died.
By night, while U.S. troops huddled in their positions, some sleeping, some watching, and machine guns chattered fitfully in the advanced positions, the searchlights of Corregidor probed the shadows of Manila Bay for Japs. By day the jungles awoke and monkeys...
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