Reporter, wife are near, yet far apart for 3 years
Freed from Manila prison, correspondent goes four blocks to find Mrs. Weissblatt
By Frank Weissblatt, United Press staff writer
BILIBID PRISON, Manila – The arrival of the 37th Infantry Division broke down the walls which for three years had separated me from my wife, who was only four blocks away in the heart of Manila.
We were reunited last night. Although we had been interned so near to each other, our only communication during the three seemingly endless years had been an official card every three months, except for occasional messages delivered by the underground.
Our separation was occasioned, by my status as a war correspondent. The Japs considered me a war prisoner and confined me to Bilibid Prison instead of Santo Tomas where other civilians and their wives were confined. After the 37th Infantry brought about our rescue I went to Santo Tomas where I found my wife.
Keeps prisoner records
In the darkened university halls last night and today I told wives, friends and relatives of prisoners held by the Japs the news of their loved ones at Bilibid, Formosa, Japan and Manchuria which I had compiled while at Bilibid.
Bilibid was a focal point for prisoner movement and I talked to men passing through in the daytime and wrote my record secretly at night, hiding the papers.
We kept our hopes alive on the news of Gen. Douglas MacArthur’s island-to-island progress back to Luzon.
The most difficult time of all was during the last few weeks when we knew Gen. MacArthur was on Luzon but had only wild rumors on his progress down the plain.
Hear rifle butts
The food shortage was growing acute, but strength came back to us all when the sound of soldiers’ rifle butts against the wooden shutters on our barred windows gave us the first sign that Americans were in Manila.
One rifle butt knocked a small rectangle of wood from a window. A hand and an unwashed, unmistakably American face appeared in the opening.
The hand held a rifle and nervously fingered the trigger. Just in time its owner recognized us as fellow-Americans.
“How in hell do you get in there?” he shouted.
‘Glad to see you’
“How do you get out of here?” replied a prisoner, jokingly. “We’ve been trying to find that out for three years.”
Hardly a minute later, the soldiers were inside the wall and we were free. We told them the Japs, had pulled out Sunday afternoon.
There were tears of gratitude in our eyes, but the only words we could find to say were: “Glad to see you!”
Stanley and Livingstone –
‘Weissblatt, United Press,’ interned reporter says
Liberated newsman’s leg knit at 30-degree angle after being broken by Jap bullet
By H. D. Quigg, United Press staff writer
**BILIBID PRISON, Manila (Feb. 5, delayed) – Our names aren’t Stanley and Dr. Livingstone, but for a while it seemed as though they should have been.
It happened in Bilibid Prison, that ancient jail in which the Japs have confined 800 Allied war prisoners and 550 civilians for nearly three years.
I was just bedding down for the night on the concrete floor of the prison with an assault battalion of the 37th Infantry Division when someone said there were some American prisoners who just had been freed on the other side of the wall.
‘Weissblatt, United Press’
The night was pitch black. but I felt my way around the wall and along a corridor toward a hum of excited voices.
Suddenly I sensed rather than felt or saw someone beside me. I stuck out my hand, even as did Stanley in darkest Africa those many years ago.
“I’m Quigg, United Press”
The Dr. Livingstone of Bilibid Prison grasped my hand fervently.
“Weissblatt, United Press,” he replied.
And thus I met Franz Weissblatt, 46, who covered the Jap invasion and American retreat from Lingayen Gulf to Bataan for United Press readers three years ago.
He was captured January 7, 1942, the sole survivor of a unit of 15 men from the famed 26th Cavalry Division. The other Americans had been killed when the unit was ambushed by the Japs.
Mr. Weissblatt was sitting in a scout car when a Jap rifle bullet hit him in the leg, breaking the bone. He was knocked to the bottom of the car. Then a mortar burst directly over the car, leaving him unconscious.
Pulled to ground
When he regained consciousness at daybreak, he saw Jap troops crawling forward. He raised his head over the side of the car.
The Japs gave a whoop and pulled him onto the ground, impacting the leg fracture. They forced him to strip and crawl 50 yards to a Jap command post.
After 35 days of traveling around to various Jap headquarters, Mr. Weissblatt was taken to a Jap naval hospital in Manila, where his leg knit at a 30-degree angle without being reset.
He went to various camps on crutches and finally arrived at this former federal prison, where he has been more than 2½ years.
That was “Weissblatt, United Press.”
Mr. Weissblatt’s wife was found doing nurse’s duty at the Santo Tomas internment camp. She had been at Bataan and Corregidor and for over two years has handled the diet for internment camps, feeding several hundred small children and trying to keep them nourished out of a small variety of available foods.