Toward the end there was no sleep on Corregidor.
The ammunition was about gone, the food had run out. The wounded, crowded into the catacombs of The Rock, cried out for help that no one could give. Malaria had seized the garrison; gaunt cannoneers, flushed with fever, stood at their stations beside pieces that had to be served with telltale economy.
Corregidor was through. Five months after the Jap's first attack, the last island of formal resistance in the Philippines was going. An army of more than 10,000 crack troops, wasted by want, without...
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