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The 75th anniversary of WWII's infamous Bataan Death March was
commemorated by 7,200 participants who gathered in the wee morning
hours for the 28th Bataan Memorial Death March, Sunday, March 19.
Once again, retired Clemson University alumnus and professor
emeritus Ben Skardon, 99 years young, was the oldest participant and
the only survivor of the real Bataan Death March who walked in the
event.
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March 19, 2017 - Retired U.S. Army Col. Ben Skardon, 99, a survivor
of the Bataan Death March, walks in the annual Bataan Memorial Death
March at White Sands Missile Range, accompanied by green-to-gold New
Mexico State University Army Reserve Officers' Training Corps cadet
Ryan Bradley (left) and Spc. Michael Cole of the McAfee Army Health
Clinic - both Army medics. This was the tenth time Skardon walked a
distance of eight and a half miles in the march - and he is the only
survivor who walks in it. (U.S. Army Reserve photo by Staff Sgt. Ken
Scar)
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He walked eight and a half miles through the unforgiving
New Mexico desert, with temperatures reaching 90 degrees,
and refused to stop until he matched his distance from the
previous nine years. Skardon is a Clemson institution in and
of himself so Clemson orange was the color of choice for the
64 members of "Ben's Brigade" -- his die-hard support group
made up of friends, family, former Clemson University
students of his, and relatives of his fellow prisoners of
war -- who accompanied him. The swarm of orange T-shirts was
only given competition as Skardon crossed through several
bright yellow fields of blooming California poppies between
the four and six-mile markers.
Skardon stopped at
each mile marker to address his Brigade, usually with a joke
or the cry "Oosh!" which is the command he says his Japanese
captors gave to keep moving.
As the temperature rose,
members of Ben's Brigade took turns holding an American flag
at angles that would shade him. He moved at his normal pace
of two miles an hour, but stopped to rest or talk to people
several times between each mile marker - something he hadn't
done in years past. Spirits rose as they reached one mile
marker after another, but there was concern he might not
make it the whole way this year. He had just recovered from
a bout of the flu weeks earlier, and the temperatures were
ten degrees hotter than in previous years. It would take
nothing away from him if he couldn't go his traditional 8.5
miles again - if he only walked a mile it would still be an
astounding feat - but nobody could question the power of his
will either. He never mentioned quitting.
At mile marker six, he left
the road to sit on a folding chair and rest in the shade of
one of the support tents. The members of Ben's Brigade,
themselves sweaty and tired at this point, gratefully
accepted water and gatorade from the volunteers who had
waited for them. Somebody put a wet handkerchief around
Skardon's neck and handed him an orange slice to suck on.
The two Army medics assigned to him took his vitals and
suggested maybe he should take it easy on himself this year.
"Four minutes," he said.
Four minutes later, he
stood up and walked on.
At mile marker eight, Ben's
Brigade gathered around him one more time.
"Our
destiny is right here," he told them. "What I want to say is
thank you, and if I haven't already shaken hands with you,
please shake my hand after this. I can't tell you,
personally, how much this has meant to me, especially the
new people who come out here for 8.5 miles. A few of you
still go out and do more and that's more power to you -
[but] the power in my feet has gone! I have two very
stalwart gentleman [the Army medics] who are actually
dragging me through to the finish line. It touches me every
time I look around and see you. So, goodbye to a lot of you.
This is the last point we'll all be together today. Once we
get to the finish line, they take me to an air conditioned
tent. You'll all have to sweat it out!"
At that point
nobody in Ben's Brigade doubted he would reach his goal of
8.5 miles again. They weren't wrong. He crossed the finish
line less fifteen minutes later.
The Bataan Memorial
Death March honors a special group of World War II heroes
responsible for the defense of the islands of Luzon,
Corregidor and the harbor defense forts of the Philippines.
On April 9, 1942, tens of thousands of American and Filipino
Soldiers were forced to surrender to Japanese forces. The
Americans were Army, Army Air Corps, Navy and Marines. Among
those seized were large numbers of the 200th Coast
Artillery, New Mexico National Guard -- the reason the
memorial march is held in New Mexico.
Often
overlooked are the four months of fierce fighting that took
place before the American and Filipino forces surrendered.
For instance, Skardon earned two Silver Stars and four
Bronze stars during that short time span.
This was
Skardon's 10th time walking in the march, which he considers
a personal pilgrimage. He says it's his sacred
responsibility to attend every year and walk with the
thousands of others who come to honor his brothers-in-arms
who didn't survive the real Bataan Death March or the years
of confinement in prisoner of war camps that followed.
"Coming here is an obligation," he said. "I ought to do
something, and the best way I know, physically, is to walk
every time I get a chance in their memory."
He says
nothing he does now, even at 99, can compare to the ultimate
sacrifice his brothers-in-arms who didn't return from the
war gave.
"The word 'hero' does not apply to me at
all," he insists, quoting the Bible verse John 15:13:
"Greater love has no man than this, than to lay down his
life for his friends."
By U.S. Army Staff Sgt. Ken Scar
Provided
through DVIDS
Copyright 2017
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