KABOOM! Uh-Oh! I think I pooped my pants a little bit. Nothing like having soiled running shorts before you’ve even completed the first mile of your marathon. Just kidding, but those starting canons at the Bataan Memorial Death March at White Sands Missile Range, NM were loud. Really loud!. Surprise!
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| Heading through the misters |
Every year I show up before dark, along with thousands of other marchers, to honor the survivors and remember the fallen of the Bataan Death March in the Philippines during WWII. There are always some survivors in attendance as well as members of congress and other dignitaries. This was my eighth year braving the cold, wind, heat, sand and hills of the 26.2 mile course. No matter how much we suffer though, we can never fathom the horrors that these WWII heroes endured. This event, the largest joint military/civilian athletic competition, ensures that the survivors know how much we appreciate their sacrifices. At the time of their march and detainment, POWs thought they were completely abandoned as the following poem attests,
We're the Battling Bastards of Bataan,
No Mama, No Papa, No Uncle Sam,
No aunts, no uncles, no cousins, no nieces,
No pills, no planes, no artillery pieces,
And nobody gives a damn!
—Frank Hewlett
