It was Christmas 1941. I was in a little town called Hermosa on Bataan in the Philippine Islands.

The night before we had retreated from Clark Field, and before we left we made sure we had all the trimmings for a real Christmas dinner. The cooks had worked through the night and morning preparing the meal, and just before the meal was ready, a Jap bomber had dropped part of his bombs in a water buffalo wallow right next to the kitchen. No one had been hurt but it sure ruined our Christmas dinner. My Christmas dinner consisted of a handful of prunes and a piece of cheese.

That night I walked back up the road toward Manila, and off to the right was a mango tree with a swarm of millions of fire flies over, under, around, and through with none over two feet from the tree.

I stood for quite awhile and admired the work of God. It sure made a wonderful Christmas tree.

Merry Christmas

Mukden 623