Gold Buddha Chapter 1

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Preface:

“THE DIAMOND-FILLED GOLD BUDDHA”

Another Goodwin Bros. Book of Adventures

By Douglas Teeples

Trouble knows who to call—The Goodwin Brothers. When trouble calls, the Goodwin Brothers answer. One only needs to know how to reach them. They could be anywhere in the world, either answering the call of some troubled person or seeking a new adventure of their own. Wherever there are downtrodden individuals, too weak to fight for themselves, or a worthy cause exists in need of their unusual talents and resources, they willingly respond to the call.

To look at their outward appearance one would judge them very different individuals, but their motives, emotions, and impulses are much the same. They are both highly intelligent and quick thinking. They also have the unique ability to know each other’s thoughts without speaking a word.

Doug Goodwin displays a warm and serious demeanor. He stands nearly six-feet tall and appears to have a medium build, which is very deceiving because he is solid muscle, and years of training in Oriental self-defense arts have made him capable of lightening-like response to any imminent danger. He has often been mistaken for the movie personality, Chuck Norris, especially when he sports a light beard.

Bill Goodwin, the younger brother, is nearly the same height, but of a slimmer build. He adds humor to the team, even under extremely tense situations, but his abilities to fight his way out of desperate conditions cannot be equaled. They form a perfect and very formidable team.

Extreme adventure is foreign to most people, but not to Doug and Bill Goodwin. They relish the adventure. Requests for their expert assistance come to them from the four quarters of the planet and sometimes these requests stack up like temporary flight patterns waiting their turn. The most urgent causes are served first by these great brothers regardless of the dangers imposed by their involvement. No danger is too great. Such is the case of the Gold Buddha—filled with thousands of cut diamonds—all stolen by Japanese officers, at the behest of their Emperor, in a diabolical plot to make the Japanese Empire the wealthiest and most powerful government in the world. During their conquest of the Pacific Rim nations, the Japanese had stolen gold religious relics from churches, temples, and monasteries, as well as from banks, museums, fallen governments, and wealthy individuals, at the cost of the lives of many thousands of men, women and children.

Although it has been fairly well established that a total of seven of these solid gold Buddhas exist, the Gold Buddha that is the subject of this particular adventure is a statue approximately four feet tall. It was formed out of pure gold looted and stripped from the sources named above and stolen from the vaults of public and private institutions located in Manchuria, Indochina, Thailand, Burma, Malaysia, Borneo, the Dutch East Indies, and Singapore. As the gold was collected from these various sources, it was loaded on a huge Japanese transport ship that had been equipped as a gold refinery. As the gold was refined, it was formed into bullion stamped with Japanese markings. Originally, the intention was that all gold would be shipped to Japan; but, as the Allied forces blocked their shipping routes those plans had to be changed. The Philippine Islands seemed to be the best alternative hiding place because even if Japan lost the war they believed they would still be able to either negotiate for their possession of the islands; or, at least, keep its locations secret and recover it by some undercover method.

However, it did become known, by some, that Imelda Marcos, , had learned that there were a number of secret caches of gold, in various parts of the Philippines. One of them came to her personal attention, as the wife of the rejected President Ferdinand Marcos, when a farmer came to her to ask for her help and protection in uncovering some gold he knew was on his property. The farmer had been affiliated with the Japanese during the war. She assured the farmer of her private assistance in the recovery effort, but when she finally discovered exactly where the gold had been hidden on that particular landowner’s property she confiscated the entire property as her personal holdings,

Not all of the gold confiscated by the Japanese was formed into bullion aboard ship and taken to secret locations in the Philippine Islands. Some had been melted down for another purpose. It was poured into a special mold in the shape of a Gold Buddha. To the casual observer, or worshiper, it would appear to be only a Buddha gilded with gold. The inside of these gold Buddha statues remained hollow. The head of each Buddha was designed to screw on or off by simultaneously depressing the navel and the left ear of the statue. Inside the hollow statue were placed diamonds, rubies, and emeralds worth more millions. The empty statue weighed approximately one and one half metric tons.

The ‘Tiger of Malaysia,’ General Tomoyuki Yamashita, is credited for overseeing the gold burial sites in the Philippine Islands. Tunnels, hopefully protected by booby traps and the spirits of buried workers and Japanese officers, were filled with almost unimaginable amounts of gold and jewels. A young Filipino, Pedro, who had been a trusted servant of General Yamashita and he was conscripted by the General to make a detailed record for the General of over two thousand gold burial sites. One important reason for Pedro’s selection for this very confidential matter was because his ancestry was part Japanese, on his paternal side, and he was fluent in both the Japanese language and the native Tagalog. Pedro had little choice but to do the bidding of General Yamashita, but he learned quickly to hide his feelings as he watched the excavated tunnels be purposely collapsed over the bodies of Filipino slave workers and even the Japanese officers supervising the work. The officers were more willing to die for this cause and for the Emperor, but the slave workers were simply murdered in cold blood by being buried alive among their screams and cries for mercy.

After World War II, Pedro assisted in the recovery of several of the gold deposits, but each time the portion of the treasure promised to him was stolen. He had watched his last recovery effort daily for six long months at Fort Santiago. Pedro knew that one Gold Buddha statue and eight safes full of gold bullion and more jewels had been buried beneath Fort Santiago. He estimated the value at approximately three billion United States dollars. The Japanese had intentionally selected Fort Santiago, as one of their best protected sites, because they knew that the Philippine government would probably never dig under a national monument. Pedro had kept his maps of this and many other such burial sites and finally convinced the government of their authenticity. The incumbent government had issued permits to allow for the Fort Santiago recovery effort, on condition that seventy-five percent of any recovery would remain in government ownership.

During the recovery effort, Pedro watched with great anticipation as sand began to be pumped from the tunnel under Fort Santiago. The Japanese had filled the original tunnels with special sand, which had been brought in by ships in order to make any future recover effort more difficult. The Japanese were convinced that the Filipinos lacked the skills for such a sophisticated recovery. As the first buckets of sand were removed from the tunnel, additional sand would flow into the cavernous tunnel opening. This made the recovery effort an almost impossible task. Pedro knew this would be a problem. He remembered hearing General Yamashita’s explaining to some of his officers that the Filipinos would never understand that they would need to force a strong wooden casing into the almost liquid sand so they could then pump the sand from within the casing. Pedro suggested this new procedure to the Filipino engineer in charge of the recovery effort; and, after extensive pleading and explanations, the engineer had to agree. After the casing had been constructed and put into place the work progressed quite rapidly and they were able to approach the final depth shown on Pedro’s notes within two weeks. This goal was reached just before Christmas. Instructions were given to the workers to take two weeks off to go visit their families and the work discontinued until after the New Year.

All of the workers, including Pedro, left the site leaving armed guards. Everything seemed to be under control and Pedro was certain that proper precautions had been taken and that the Gold Buddha and the safes were now within close range.

After the Holidays

At six o’clock in the morning of January 2^nd, Pedro returned to the site. He was shocked to find the site deserted. The tunnel had been abandoned and had been completely filled with sand. He had been cheated again! He was infuriated! Once more, he had lost his rightful share of a fortune. Greed and dishonesty seemed to live with the blood-tainted treasure. More lives than could be calculated had been lost, willingly and unwillingly, for the very gold that had just been recovered from its earthen grave—more lives would be lost in the future. Pedro grieved over the lost lives and his own latest financial loss. He raised his eyes to the sky and swore that he would do all in his power with the help of God to make things right.

That night Pedro placed a call to the Goodwin Brothers in California, USA, and the adventure of the GOLD BUDDHA began. An overview of the events of this adventure follows.

Each chapter in this partially factual novel contains the events that took place as the Goodwin Brothers are brought into another dangerous and little known adventure.

Bookcover

Go to Chapter: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9. 10, 11, 12, 13

Chapter 1

MANILA, PHILIPPINES, 1990

AIR TRAVEL HALFWAY AROUND THE WORLD FINALLY TOOK ITS TOLL ON DOUG GOODWIN. Total chaos in the Manila International Airport added to his feelings of extreme fatigue. Passing customs was not a problem. He hailed a taxi and instructed the driver to take him to the Intercontinental Hotel near the Makati-Center. He selected the Intercontinental because of its location—far from the Sheraton. His team had used the Sheraton Hotel so often that a traceable pattern was beginning to develop.

His choice of hotels proved to be a mistake. At mid-morning, Doug awakened to the sounds of gunshots and loud shouting. Rushing to the window he saw men with rifles running through the parking lot toward the hotel. Dressing quickly, he called the desk…but received no answer.

He opened the door to his room and peered down the hallway. Seeing no activity, he moved carefully toward the stairway. Loud voices echoed up the stairway as he opened the door. Being on the third floor, he cautiously began walking down the stairs. After taking his first three steps, he stopped cold as gunfire broke out below. He retraced his steps quickly back to his room.

Turning on the television set, he hoped for some answers. News blasted forth in dramatic fashion. “Rebel forces are making a coup attempt on President Corazon Aquino—the sixth coup attempt since she took office,” the news reporter shouted, “Mutineers have bombed Malacanang Palace and military facilities in the strongest bid to oust President Aquino from office that we have yet seen. In Manila’s Makati district, where many foreign embassies and businesses are located, heavy gunfire has just broken out as government troops tried to move against rebels holding the Intercontinental Hotel.”

“Holy…mackerel,” Doug said aloud. “While I’m sleeping, a war is raging all around me. I really must have been tired.”

The television report continued. “Dozens of combatants are reported killed in fierce fighting through the night, and doctors treating casualties say five people have been killed and dozens wounded. Casualty estimates during the last coup attempt against Aquino ranged from forty-two to ninety-five dead and up to three hundred wounded, and the coup battle that is raging now could far exceed that number.”

Doug heard volleys of machinegun fire and rushed to the window. He watched the fierce activity below—Shots were being fired toward soldiers surrounding the hotel—Garbage collection trucks had been commandeered and parked around the entrance of the hotel to form effective street barricades.

The television reporter continued giving instructions. “We need ambulances to go immediately to Makati. Many civilians lay wounded along Makati’s Pasay Road.”

A spokesperson for the United States’ Clark Air Base reported, “There are no US warplanes in the skies over Manila yet but we are waiting to respond to a request from President Aquino.”

While watching the television broadcast, Doug turned on the radio station, DZRH, for additional information. Within fifteen minutes, a rebel bomb damaged the transmitter of RPN television, knocking it off the air—the only TV station used by the government to broadcast information to the public—luckily, Doug’s radio continued reporting.

Doug remained in his room hoping and praying for a quick end to this dilemma. The news broadcaster continued, “A boatload of mutineers have landed near Cebu City’s Mactan International Airport, 350 miles southeast of Manila. Mactan is the country’s second major airport after Manila, and is a major transportation hub. It appears that the rebel force is well organized and intends to disrupt the entire country. It looks like the work of Gregorio ‘Gringo’ Honasan who was arrested for a 1987 coup attempt. He escaped from a prison ship by leaping into the ocean and swimming to safety and is with rebel terrorists holed up in Intercontinental Hotel. We now have a direct message from President Aquino at the Palace.”

President Aquino’s voice then came over the radio—first speaking in Tagalog then in English, “An attempt to seize power by force is again being made. Our forces have the situation under control. We shall smash this shameless and naked attempt once more. Those who wish to be kings are here again, despite repeated rejections by the people.”

The brief message ended, and Doug sat in disbelief as he listened to continued gunfire below. “They might have everything under control at the palace, but not around this hotel,” he muttered under his breath. “I’ve never been cornered within a coup attempt before,” He was unsure of what action he should take, if any, but quickly decided, “I’ll just have to take it as it comes.”

The radio announcer continued, “U.S. airplanes have just been deployed to Aquino’s defense. Even now, U.S. fighters are joining the fight to give air cover to our ground troops. Again, two Pacific democracies stand shoulder to shoulder in defense of freedom. The outcome is assured,” the announcer said with a positive voice.

The United States Vice President, Dan Quayle, had called Air Force One to request U.S. air support for the Philippine government forces from President Bush. As a result of his call, several F-4 planes had been ordered to take off from Clark Air Base and were flying over the two rebel controlled bases within ten minutes. President Bush, who was traveling to Europe at the time, announced that the United States would not join the Philippine F-5 planes in attacking the T-28 planes and rebel helicopters on the ground. However the U.S. fighter jets would keep the rebel planes out of the air space.

At that instant, Doug heard the sound of jet fighters and loud explosions. He strained to see the planes but they were out of his sight.

Cardinal Jaime Sin, Roman Catholic Archbishop of Manila, spoke on the radio urging his fellow citizens, “Support the duly constituted authority. Do not give in to the rebels invading our country. Remain in your homes away from Makati.”

“That’s just great,” Doug said aloud. “Of all the rotten luck, I’m sitting right in the middle of a cotton-picking invasion,” shaking his head in disgust.

Cardinal Sin continued his appeal speaking to the rebels, “Your crusade has resulted in the loss of so many innocent lives. I am pleading with you to return to your senses and surrender.”

A tremendous explosion in the front parking lot rocked the hotel, and Doug rushed to the window. Armored vehicles loaded with dozens of Filipino soldiers had surrounded the building. A megaphone blasted out demands for the surrender of the forces inside the hotel.

He saw civilians run from the hotel and escape behind the soldiers. “It’s time for me to go into action,” Doug said to himself.

In between the many barrages of gunfire, he darted from his room and ran toward the stairway. Doug thought, “If I’m going to come out of this alive and help save the Philippine government from these crazy rebels I’ve got to get my hands on a weapon.” He silently worked his way down the stairs. Believing the noise being created outside the building would keep the attention of the rebels; he moved to the second floor and carefully opened the door to look into the corridor. Quickly glancing both directions and observing only a vacant hallway, he retreated back into the stairway…pausing a few seconds to listen for sounds of activity.

Muted voices abruptly broke the silence, as a door on the landing below him burst open and two men ran down the stairs—to the level below ground. Doug wondered what they were up to and decided to follow them.

Doug listened for further movement. Hearing none, he followed the men down the darkened stairway—the darkness helped balance the odds.

Spinning around behind the stairs as he touched the basement floor, he listened for sounds. At first he heard nothing; but then, he smelled smoke of a cigarette and heard two men talking in muffled voices. He quietly worked his way behind some crates to where he could see them silhouetted in the light of a small basement window. They were both slouched against the wall, rifles in hand, watching troop movement outside. “Here’s my chance to get some weapons,” Doug reasoned.

Doug tried to hear their conversation but could not understand their Tagalog dialect. Without warning one of the men turned to leave and walked quietly but menacingly in Doug’s direction.. Doug squatted in the shadows and waited. The rebel soldier came around the corner with his rifle raised; and as he did so, his entire frame became outlined in the window light. Without a second’s hesitation, Doug slid across the floor on one hip and karate kicked the side of the soldier’s right knee. His knee buckled, causing him to spin and fall backward on top of Doug. Doug caught him in a crushing chokehold, and snapped his neck without producing a sound, except for a muffled groan. The rifle landed quietly on the soldier’s still body.

The second man had obviously detected the muffled sounds and wondered if his fellow soldier had stumbled in the darkened basement because he growled out, “What did you do now?” Hearing no response he ventured forth to investigate. Sensing trouble, the Filipino shouted, Sino iyán? (Who is there?)

Doug rolled his first victim over and caught his rifle before it struck the floor. He quietly slipped into a darker area of the room and waited for the second Filipino to come around the corner. Hunching so his vision was upward, he saw the Filipino’s head as soon as it flashed into view. With deadly force, the butt of Doug’s rifle crushed the temple of the unsuspecting Filipino. “Poor sucker didn’t know what hit him.”

Doug now had excess fortification: two rifles, hand grenades, two Bowie knives and a pistol. Tucking the pistol in his belt while grabbing a rifle and several clips along with four hand grenades, he charged up the stairs to the door of the main floor. He needed to check the lobby.

He cracked a small opening in the door and peered through it. Several rebels lay in a prone position behind concrete columns in the lobby while others moved in and out of offices. The contrast of attitudes between different rebels surprised Doug. Some were seriously prepared to do battle, while others were laughing and looting any valuables they could stuff into their belts and shirts.

Not being able to see to his left, he made a calculated decision to wipe out as many as possible with one sudden move. Doug was the only one in a position to clear the lobby of these murderous rebels. In one move he opened the door a bit more; and, while holding it open with his toe, he leaned his rifle against the wall. Clutching two grenades in each hand, he removed the pins with his teeth. He then pushed the door open with his foot and, without a second’s hesitation, rolled two grenades around the corner to his left and threw the other two down the opposite hallway.

Grabbing both of the rifles he had acquired from the two dead soldiers, he ran down the stairway to escape the explosion of the grenades and then huddled in a corner awaiting the impact. The power of four hand grenades inside the building exploded with unanticipated force. The large plate glass of the building’s window walls shattered, blowing glass a hundred feet outside toward the government soldiers. The stairway door exploded inwardly, landing next to Doug with body crushing force. Luckily, he was barely far enough from the door to escape injury, but the pressure and noise disoriented him for a few moments. With ears still ringing, Doug charged up the stairs toward the upper floors looking for more action.

Reaching the second floor landing, he knelt and listened for sounds of activity, but could only hear ringing in his ears. Knowing that he was at a disadvantage, he continued up the stairs and ran toward his room—still clutching the rifle. “At least now I have weapons,” he said, feeling the pistol still tucked in his belt. Then realizing that he could be very easily misunderstood by the government soldiers who would now be entering the building he dropped the rifles down the laundry chute in hallway..

Hearing a loudspeaker from the Filipino soldiers demanding surrender, Doug went to window and looked down. He watched as rebel fighters stumbled from the smoke and dust with their hands above their heads. The rebels were Filipinos, like the soldiers; so the only marks that distinguished them as rebels were red and white shoulder patches and white hair from the powdered ceiling plaster of the hotel lobby. Filipino soldiers charged the hotel and rounded up more than thirty rebels. Doug was certain he saw Gregorio ‘Gringo’ Honasan being escorted by four guards.

Doug left his room and listened down the stairway expecting to hear gunshots, but he heard none. Sounds of men running up the stairs echoed throughout the building; so Doug dashed back to his room.

In a few minutes, he heard an announcement in the corridor outside his door, “All guests are safe, the rebels have been captured. Wait in your rooms until we have secured the area,”…and then silence.

Doug went to the bathroom and began washing the polish from his hair and face, smiling at his scraggly image in the mirror. “Did all my damage in the dark…didn’t need this colored junk after all,” he laughed.

He washed and changed his clothes, making himself as low key as possible; then he did the same as all the other guests—watched the action below from their windows. Distant gunshots could be heard; and soon, the army below began to disperse, leaving a small group of soldiers behind.

Eventually, soldiers reached Doug’s floor and announced that each guest should step into the hallway. Doug and the others cooperated with a degree of nervousness; upon seeing the Filipino soldiers, many began to cry, while others laughed with joy.

One soldier announced, “All guests meet in the lobby right now, please.”

Doug gathered his bags and belongings and joined the civilians below.

The guests were checked, and the building thoroughly searched. Only dead rebels were found, including two unexplainable dead men in the basement.

This incident occurred several months after a chain of events initiated the “Gold Buddha” adventure into the lives of the Goodwin Brothers. The root of the episode, however, began in Manila many years before.

MANILA, PHILIPPINES

Standing inside the torture chamber of Fort Santiago, Pedro Lim, a sixty-seven year old Filipino, stood watching mud covered workers as they searched for a buried treasure. They were raising buckets of fine wet sand from a chamber nearly ten feet deep and working in a hot muggy environment. Suddenly white seashells interspersed the buckets of sand. Pedro stepped closer to look down the tunnel and was overcome with emotions. Tears flowed down his cheeks when he saw a layer of white seashells.

He had watched Japanese officers carefully place the seashells many years ago—about 1942. They had used the shells to mark the location of a gold Buddha statue filled with diamonds.

Pedro’s mind overflowed with memories, and after several minutes he spoke: “I stood right here when a Japanese officer struck my head with a rifle butt.”

Then he turned, and pointing toward a dark stone dungeon, said, “That is where I nearly died forty-five years ago after I was knocked unconscious. A Japanese officer threw me in that cell and left me to die.

He paused for a few seconds then, in a slow reflective manner, told his compelling story, speaking English fairly well.

“I came conscious, hearing groans from deep within my own body—groans with each breath. Barely alive, the cobwebs of my mind were spinning around and around in dark circles. I didn’t have any strength to move a muscle.”

“Much questions crowded my mind: ‘What happened to me? Where am I?’ My only thought, ‘I must keep breathing, keep breathing’. I strained, moaning the word “breathe” with each exhale. I must have gone unconscious for long time as dreams and nightmares haunted my mind. It didn’t seem real. Could this be happening to me?”

“At long last, I began to move one finger. I moved it back and forth slowly, feeling relief with such a slight response. Controlling the movement of a single finger was strangely satisfying. The first sensation I felt was a dull contact of my fingernail scratching something hard. I gradually felt my hand resting on a hard surface. A muscle in my arm twitched as one leg moved slightly—like returning from the dead. I realized the damp, hard surface where I lay was rough stone but I was alive.”

“Suddenly, I wanted to wake up. I rubbed my eyes and forced each eyelid open with my fingers. My eyes felt open, but I could not see. I thought I was blind. I could only see blackness, but the stupor of my mind blocked out all fear. Raising my hand, I touched the side of my head and couldn’t believe what my fingers were touching. The object I touched did not respond to the feeling of my exploring fingers. It was like a foreign object was attached but not really part of me. I realized I was feeling my swollen head—nearly double its normal size.”

“In my stupor, I sensed I was in pain, but the pain seemed to belong to someone else. I couldn’t understand what was happening. I realized I had been hurt, and thought the pain would be bad if I woke up; so I tried to stay asleep, but the harder I tried, the more aware I was of my miserable situation.”

“Like lightning, my memory returned with sharp pain. My swollen head hurt so bad I prayed for death. Reality had returned, and it was unbearable. With sadness, I knew I had no choice but to endure. ‘This can’t be happening to me,’ I cried out and collapsed.”

Pedro choked back the tears and continued, “After recovering my feelings, I realized that I was inside a prison cell at Fort Santiago. Stone walls enclosed me and cut out all light. I still couldn’t tell if I was blind. I held my hand close to my eyes and moved it back and forth, trying to see movement, but saw none.”

“While laying on the stone floor, I remembered what happened. My mind was confused, but I remembered being struck in the head with the butt of a rifle. I could picture the rifle in the hands of a Japanese officer coming toward me. I had seen it happen many times to others; but now I knew the pain first hand. I whimpered alone in a dark cell as I remembered being a forced laborer for the Japanese who had invaded and captured my Philippine homeland. Japanese soldiers forced me, and thousands of others, to dig tunnels and deep excavations. We worked endless hours with hand shovels, picks and buckets while the soldiers prodded us with bayonets.”

“One fateful day, I stumbled while carrying a wooden box. The box crashed to the ground with a ripping sound, spilling its contents in the dirt. I remembered the sight of loose diamonds rolling in the dirt. I must have dropped to my knees to gather the diamonds as a rifle struck the side of my head.”

What do I do now? I cried inside as I pulled my poor body to a new position.

“How I lived, I’ll never know. Life lacked meaning as I became increasingly aware of unbearable pain. I remember thinking of seeing an old sick dog laying in the gutter trying to recover, and I felt worse and more helpless than that dog.”

“Suddenly, a bright light flashed through a slit in the door, so intense I had to look away. At least I knew I wasn’t blind, but the knowledge wasn’t worth the pain. The cell door creaked open, and a skinny, bare arm slid a tiny bowl of cooked rice and a cup of water inside; then the heavy metal door closed with a deafening bang, and darkness engulfed me.”

“For the first time, I became aware of sounds outside my cell. That awareness had an unusual comforting effect. I dragged myself toward the bowl and cup, cautiously feeling along the floor until my fingers touched a small tin cup. My mind reeled like a whirling dervish; but I knew I had to concentrate, or I might spill the water. Keeping the tin cup at my fingertips, I maneuvered my painful body into a sitting position—each small movement was major pain. Several minutes more, I clutched the cup in both hands and sipped the tasteless liquid through my numb lips. I sipped slowly, not wanting to waste a drop. At first my throat couldn’t swallow, but the moisture gradually worked its way through the dry tissue. “How long have I been here?” I whimpered as I sucked in more water. A sharp excruciating pain inside my head settled into a dull, pulsating, barely tolerable ache. I drank the water, ate the rice and fell to the stony floor, totally exhausted. I remained in that cell for heaven only knows how long, and slowly healed.

“My future had many surprises. What seemed like several days later, two mean Japanese soldiers entered my cell and dragged me to a better jail. After living in isolation for several weeks, they dragged my weak body into a large stone chamber at Fort Santiago prison. I stood hunched over with dozens of other men. A soldier tied my arms above my head and hung me on the wall. I hung by my arms like discarded clothes, awaiting my death. I heard the guards say that I would be executed at eleven o’clock that morning.”

“It does not get easier, nor do you ever adjust to painful torture. Each new torture has its unique pain, and at that moment, I could only pray the pain would not last long. But it pushed me to the brink of my endurance—my arms nearly separating from the shoulders.”

“As I hung in total exhaustion, a Japanese officer entered the torture chamber and with a deep guttural voice asked for the prisoner “Lim”. The guard in charge snapped to attention and pointed toward me. ‘Take him down and bring him to my chambers. He is Japanese!”

“Three guards removed me from the wall with haste and carefully carried me into a nearby office building. I must have been a pitiful sight as I sat listening to an officer tell me that I was part Japanese. As far as I knew, my family had always been Filipino; but he was telling me I had a Japanese name, and my relatives in Japan were searching for me. I was confused and not sure of what he said; but if he wanted me to be Japanese, I would be Japanese. I agreed with him when he said my grandfather was part Japanese.”

“Then my life changed completely. Guards moved me into a hospital, and nurses pampered me with care until I fully recovered my strength. After four weeks, they dressed me in fine clothes and shipped me to Japan to meet my maybe family, with the explanation that I would be educated and trained in underground tunneling.”

“In Japan, a man embraced me claiming to be my Japanese relative. He told me a Governor in Japan had my honorable family name, and I accepted the claim as a far-reaching possibility—it was a definite life insurance policy.”

“Meeting my new family was a strange experience; I spoke no Japanese, and they spoke no Tagalog. We smiled a lot and exchanged pleasantries for several hours. They were overjoyed and treated me like a returning hero. They had prepared a small room in their humble home for me; so I retired early.”

“My training began the next day. A guide directed me to an underground city named Kieto. Looking at the underground city, as large as those on the surface, I was awe-struck with feelings of fear, mingled with reverence. I was a simple young man who had been raised on a small self-contained farm in the Philippines, now being introduced into an unimaginable world that was unknown to outsiders.”

Why had I been sent there? I asked myself.

“After six months of intense study, including the basics of the Japanese written language, I was sent to Germany to assist the Nazis in digging tunnels then returned to the Philippine Islands.”

“Upon my return, I discovered hundreds of new tunnels and underground facilities had been completed since I left. I learned that the Japanese had continued using slave labor to accomplish this immense task. Sad to say, they had murdered thousands of Filipino workers in the process. It had always been the nature of Japanese conquerors to consider the conquered as inferior—inferior to the point that they were considered subhuman. Japanese soldiers considered the killing of a conquered person of no more importance than the slaughtering of a dumb animal.”

“A Japanese officer assigned me to travel to an underground tunnel site, explaining it was a storage depot for ammunition. As I rode through nearly untraveled territory on the bed of an army transport truck filled with wooden crates, a wheel of the truck dropped into a deep hole. The sudden jolt dislodged a wooden crate that crashed to the truck bed. The crate broke open exposing its contents—not ammunition but gold bullion. I learned for the first time that gold was being stored in the underground tunnels. I later learned that the gold had been stripped from several Southeast Asian countries by the ravaging Japanese Army.”

“Because of the training I had received in Japan, they assigned me, with three Japanese officers, to inventory the contents of seventeen hundred gold burial sites. Usually, one other man and I were the last persons to see the gold before the Japanese collapsed the tunnels. Local Filipino workers were usually killed and buried with the gold in the tunnels. Many Japanese officers willingly gave their lives for the Emperor and were buried with the workers.”

“After many months of that type of labor, a high ranking Japanese officer saved my life. A bomb hidden in a conference room by a Japanese general killed fifty hierarchy officers, as well as many engineers—a bad way to keep a secret. A few minutes before the explosion, an officer, who had befriended me and considered me his son, took me from the meeting. He explained that he had been given permission to kill me. He fired his pistol in the air and told me to hide, thus sparing my life.”

“Though my life was spared forty-five years ago, I’m still in danger now. The Japanese Mafia, Yakuza, formerly named the “Chrysanthemum”, is my main concern. I can still identify the members of that organization by their facial expressions. They also can be recognized by a missing finger, cut off during initiation, and a tattoo of the Chrysanthemum flower on one shoulder”

“I have helped firms not related to the Japanese in the recovery of eight major gold sites. Japanese hate me for those efforts, and my life is in constant danger. I must call myself Pedro Lim and cannot use my family name in public.”

Pedro quit talking and silently continued his vigil in the dungeon area at Fort Santiago. He watched for the next half-hour as workers forced a ten-foot metal probe through the water-saturated sand. The process was tedious, hot and tiring. Suddenly, the probe contacted a solid object. Watching more intently, Pedro was certain that the contact was the metal safe containing the Gold Buddha-the location was accurate and at the expected depth. Grins on the faces of the weary workers portrayed success, until they began the task of removing sand to the ten-foot level. As they removed each bucket of sand, new sand flowed in, yielding no progress.

Pedro turned to the supervisor, Charley Mac, and said, “They will need a casing around the work area or they will remove sand forever.”

Charley Mac, an egotistical little Caesar type person, always ignored Pedro’s advice. He had supervised the physical efforts of the recovery for the past several months using Filipino workers—even after a cave-in killed two workers; which should have proved his incompetence to his superiors. Following the accident, Charley used a professional excavation company, but, for some reason or another he was still supervising the project.

The work moved slowly, in typical Filipino fashion, and many delays occurred. If Japanese observers had been watching Charley Mac’s haphazard methods, they would have shaken their heads in disbelief and laughed. His leadership was ludicrous.

Misusing the confidence placed in him by many American investors, Charley Mac had also begun a plan of deceit. It was later discovered that he had telephoned two friends who were on active duty for the U. S. Special Forces and made a confidential deal with them: “If you come over here and help me get this gold out, I’ll split twenty million dollars with you.”

Of course Charlie’s new partners in crime arranged to join him immediately. They were at the site within one week bringing a six-inch high-pressure pump with them. They devised a new plan: first, force a wooden casing down around the treasure, and second pump the sand from inside the casing. The plan was as Pedro had suggested, but complications caused by the cramped working area made it much more difficult than expected.

Pedro, being unaware of Charlie’s devious plan, watched day after day expecting success to come at any time. Unexpectedly one day, Charley dismissed the workers at the Fort for a long two-week rest, during Christmas holidays. Two weeks later, when the work resumed, the probing workers could no longer find the treasure. Charley Mac acted bewildered, but it was obvious someone had removed the gold Buddha, and Charley was the man in charge. He controlled the armed guards who prevented unauthorized persons from entering the site and was the only person who had free access to the Fort—Charley was the only logical culprit.

For the eighth time, trusted associates had cheated Pedro. Greed had raised its ugly head and taken over once again.

“I’m used to it,” Pedro calmly exclaimed in a quiet somber voice: “I’ve been through it before, but I know someone to call this time.”

The person to whom he referred was Doug Goodwin, a member of the Goodwin brothers. Pedro had met him two years earlier. Pedro had been very impressed with Doug’s ability and integrity and knew that if and when he was in a situation where he needed some expert help he would be able to count on Doug coming to his assistance.

Pedro had had enough! The injustice he had suffered through the greed of these men angered Pedro. He was determined to balance the scales and this was exactly the type of a mission for the Goodwin brothers.

Pedro placed a telephone call to the United States and left a message at Goodwin’s headquarters. Three hours later Pedro’s phone rang-it was Doug Goodwin.

NEWPORT BEACH, U.S.A. About 1990

“Hello my friend,” Doug said with an enthusiastic warm tone in his voice: “How can I help you?”

“I got a problem.”

“Can you use my help?”

“I can.”

“Can you talk on the telephone?”

“Just a little, I’m still being watched, but I need you here soon as you can.”

“Fax the details to me using the code I left with you. Use the fax number on the code book…Okay?”

“Uh-uh, I can do that.”

“I’ll contact my brother, Bill and get him prepared.”

“That’s good. It’ll be worthwhile.”

“Don’t worry, you can depend on us.”

“Thank you.”

“See you soon…Bye.”

Upon hanging up the telephone, Doug immediately dialed his brother Bill. Bill had been putting together a business deal in Las Vegas and was in the middle of negotiations, but Doug’s mind immediately began thinking of launching this Philippine adventure. Doug already had an inkling of what Pedro was talking about and what would be needed. He quickly explained his ideas on the matter to Bill.

“You won’t believe the man I want to introduce you to,” Bill said to Doug. ““He’ll probably be the key to our success in this matter. He’s had a lot of experience in clandestine operations.”

“I prefer the people I know.”

“You can take my word for it; this guy is okay. He already has a worldwide team that can be activated with a few moments notice.”

“You know me; I don’t like meeting new people.”

“You’ll like him.”

“What’s his name?”

“We call him ‘Big O’.”

“Are you sure we can trust him? Maybe he’s with the CIA.”

“Believe me, you can trust me on this one.”

“I’ll have to think about it.”

“I can have you meet him in an out-of-the-way location.”

“Okay, I’ll call as soon as I receive the fax from Pedro,” Doug replied, still questioning the thought of working with ‘Big O’.

“Okay brother, let’s go get ‘em.”

“See ya’ later.”

Doug started working right away to arrange his schedule. Bill also began preparing for the unknown. Nearly eight hours later, the fax arrived from Pedro. The time delay was expected because of the complexity of the code system: Many words had to be coded with two or three letters; so it took several hours to compose a message.

The message gave details of the clandestine activities of Charley and his cronies, and how they had recovered and stolen a Gold Buddha filled with diamonds. The shocking news both infuriated and excited Doug. He knew Pedro had been the key figure in the recovery and should be entitled to his share. To make the matter more unjust, the Filipino government had lost its share, and the poor Filipino people would loose financial relief.

Doug forwarded the fax to Bill and followed up with a telephone call.

“You ready to put this one together?” Doug asked.

“If you’re waiting for me, you’re backing up.”

“Why am I not surprised? Now that I have more details on what’s been happening over there and the potential size of the operation I’ve come to the conclusion that we should at least meet with ‘Big O’.

“Good as done, I’ll set it up.”

A meeting was arranged for the following Sunday. The day was overcast and the traffic was light as Doug and Bill drove toward Lancaster, California. They traveled in separate vehicles from opposite directions: Nevada and Southern California.

Bill’s mind rushed with excitement as he looked forward to the intended meeting. “Doug has no idea what this guy is like.” Bill had spent many hours lately with ‘Big O’ and admired him. He knew Doug didn’t want outsiders involved because of the sensitivity of their adventures; but talking to himself. “When he learns more about ‘Big O’, he’ll change his mind.” For the last twenty years ‘Big O’ has had a dedicated mission to free American prisoners around the world—he could use additional money.

‘Big O’ and Harry Gold were flying to an airport at Lancaster in their private plane at the same time Bill and Doug were speeding along the freeways.

“I’m glad it’s Sunday,” Bill said aloud. “This is a red letter event.” Bill had sent Doug a copy of a book written by ‘Big O’; so Doug would have a feel for the unique personality he was about to meet. ‘Big O’, one of the elite individuals in the world. Bill approached the isolated airstrip thinking, “This is an ideal spot for our first meeting.” He drove into the airport parking lot at the same time that Doug was parking his car.

“We should have had our cellular phones with us so we could keep track of one another.”

“It’s almost that way anyway. We pulled in here at the same time, didn’t we?” Doug replied.

The two men smiled, shook hands with their usual greeting ceremony and walked into the small airport diner, as if they had been together all along. They were ahead of schedule and would have an hour wait; so they relaxed and caught up on the latest activities of one another.

Nearly on time, a yellow Cessna 210 came into view and set down on the runway. “That’s him now!” Bill said, with excitement—pointing toward the plane. Bill and Doug walked to meet ‘Big O’, as the plane taxied and stopped near the terminal.

“Doug I’d like you to meet ‘Big O’,” Bill said as they approached ‘Big O’ and his partner. “‘Big O’, this is Doug Goodwin.”

“Glad to meet you, this is Harry,” ‘Big O’ replied, pointing to a long-time friend. When they looked at ‘Big O’, they could understand very well why he had that nickname—it fit him well. His heavy, muscular frame filled his flight jacket past capacity. With concentration radiating from his tense eyes, he towered over his sidekick, Harry, who displayed a mouse-like image—deserving very little trust.

“How do you do?” Doug responded.

“Let’s sit over there on the lawn where nobody can listen in,” ‘Big O’ suggested.

Doug began discussing a few aspects of his life in general terms; then briefly mentioned that he and Bill had a venture in the Philippines soon and could use some protection. They also would need specific help when they left the Philippines. Feeling comfortable with the two new acquaintances, Doug decided to discuss more details than he had expected to divulge at a first meeting. “A friend in the Philippines has just been cheated out of twenty million dollars and has asked for our help. He wants us to locate, recover and relocate a twenty-four Karat gold Buddha statue that weighs over a ton and is filled with with diamonds, rubies and emeralds worth a king’s ransom. Our success could mean a fortune for each of us involved. Here are pictures of the culprits who stole the Buddha.”

At that point, Doug pulled out faxed photos of Charley Mac, Ernie Whittle and Dr. Sori, a recently resigned government official. Passing the photos around, Doug continued, “When we locate the Buddha, can you and your team get it out of the country?”

‘Big O’ paused a few seconds and answered with confidence, “I have a couple of viable ideas that will work. Do you really believe the Japanese buried a Gold Buddha?”

Doug replied, “You don’t think the Japanese earned all their wealth selling Toyotas and Sonys do you?”

Bill smiled and realized that Doug liked ‘Big O’.

Doug thought, as he looked at the two men, “It is hard to lack respect for individuals of their caliber. They represent a team of men who have spent a lifetime living in nerve wracking conditions and fighting insurmountable righteous causes; yet financially they are barely surviving. The rich bureaucrats are relaxing in the lap of luxury and have used the lives of millions of young men and women to line their pockets with riches. It’s a disgusting thought.”

“I’ll be honest,” Doug explained: “It won’t be easy locating those characters, but Pedro knows where more gold is; so even if we don’t find the Buddha it will be possible us to succeed in locating other treasure to make us all rich and generate extra funds for your other efforts.”

“Nothing is easy,” Harry added, “and it never will be, but maybe this is a way to revitalize our program. We need money badly.”

‘Big O’ sat with a contemplative expression—No one could tell that he was already making plans until he made a committing statement. “When you first go in, you’ll need someone watching your back side at six o’clock; so Lazer should go with you—Lazer was a Special Forces team member and has been through all types of warfare—you can trust him with your life. He’ll take care of many preparatory arrangements while you search for the Buddha.” Continuing, as if he were really talking to himself, ‘Big O’ said, “When the Buddha is found, Harry will travel to the country to work out details, and I’ll be there when it’s time to leave the country.”

“Sounds good to me,” Bill said and Doug nodded his head in agreement. The Goodwin brothers were about join forces with another team.

Doug had been observing Harry while ‘Big O’ was talking. Harry appeared to be a strong, loyal person but he had a slightly shifty self-centered look. This worried Doug a bit, but his saving grace was that he and ‘Big O’ had survived many years together in the jungle battles of Cambodia, Laos and Vietnam, they had been through the “Mill of Life”, s to speak, side by side and seemed closer than most brothers.

Doug thought, “I’ll have to keep my eye on him.”

After three hours of discussion, the meeting was over. They all shook hands and a new adventure began. The trip home found each man mentally preparing for a future meeting: Doug made notes on a pad; Bill recorded plans on his Pearlcorder; and while flying his airplane, ‘Big O’ tossed off pertinent points that would have to be considered, as Harry took notes.

The following day was full of activity for all concerned, each team taking care of separate responsibilities.

Bill had the initial duty of raising the financing for the venture, and he was good at it. Before the day had passed, he called Doug with the good news that he had the funds for travel and living expenses. He already had commitments for at least fifteen thousand dollars from some of their wealthy friends who would be happy just to be included in one of the Goodwin brothers adventures. Doug had contacted team members around the world. ‘Big O’ had worked out the “Cover” and was writing a “Plan of Operation (OPLAN)”.

Contacting Doug on the telephone, Bill said, “It’s time for a meeting of the minds. Let’s get together tomorrow.”

“I’m ready,” Doug responded, “I’ll come with Ken Able, you contact Craig, and ‘Big O’. Let’s refer to Craig as C2.”

“You’ve got it. I’ll pick you up at the airport on the 1:30 flight.”

“Okay, we’ll see ya’ tomorrow,” Doug replied as he made plans to call Ken.

Ken Able was a key figure in the Goodwin brother’s team. Doug had met this charismatic person in Saipan a few years previously. He owned a bank in Saipan, which was only about 1,500 miles from Manila. Since that time Ken had been a key person in all Goodwin Brother projects involving financial transactions. He was usually the first person to be contacted in any new adventure. He had provided a large portion of the money that had been needed in the past to begin other projects. Also, his legal expertise had been used to provide the contract agreements needed for past investors. He was expert, too, in providing the ways and means to distribute the profits from recovered treasures when they needed to be spread throughout the worldwide banking system.

Ken’s pleasant smile behind his gray handlebar mustache with his white hair, gave him an image of wisdom and honesty. His confident sounding, deep mellow voice confirmed his high qualities.

Doug called Ken immediately upon disconnecting from Bill.

“Hi Ken, how you doing?”

“Well, hi Doug, it’s good to hear your voice.”

Doug felt an immediate sense of security every time he heard Ken’s mellow self-confident voice. “We’ve been called again,” Doug informed him. “Can we get together soon?”

“Any time, brother,” Ken replied without hesitation.

“Just stand by, and I’ll get back to you later today,” Doug explained.

“I’ll be here,”

“See ‘ya soon,” Doug responded and hung up the telephone. Staring into space, Doug mentally pictured the team members he’d be using.

During the day several contacts were made and a meeting was set at the Worldwide Enterprise headquarters.

The next day a group of individuals assembled to plan the Adventure of the Gold Buddha, code named Orphan Annie—’Big O’, Harry Gold, Bill and Doug Goodwin, Ken Able were present. C2 would be brought into the group later. They held the meeting in an upstairs room at “Worldwide Enterprises” headquarters, located in a remote town in southern Nevada.

‘Big O’ began the meeting by presenting an outline of the Plan of Operation. His experience for the last thirty years had enabled him to prepare a plan quickly and present it in matter-of-fact terms. “This is definitely doable,” he said and explained the duties and responsibilities of each Team Member.

Doug, Bill and Lazer would take a quick Recon trip to the Philippines to make initial contacts and “case the joint”. Bill and Lazer would return to the U.S., and Doug would go to Saipan. Saipan was chosen to be the “Safe House” for Orphan Annie before she would be transferred to her New Parents, the buyers.

Bill will meet Doug in Saipan as soon as all the financial details are completed. The financial details included the funding for the Recon trip, the money for the acquisition of Orphan Annie, if needed, the transportation costs to Saipan, either by boat, plane or submarine, and letters of credit for the transfer of Orphan Annie to her New Parents.

The Goodwin Brothers, ‘Big O’, and Harry Gold will then meet in Bangkok, Thailand to coordinate with Suwat’s team—the strong-arm branch of “Big O’s” group, in charge of mercenaries, arms and explosives.

There remained room in the plans for adjustment from time to time according to how events development. ‘Big O’ would eventually travel to the Philippines with Suwat’s team to acquire Orphan Annie and transport her to Saipan.

Ken would meet Orphan Annie in Saipan after the relocation and negotiate the money transfers; Rob would remain at the home base in Nevada to coordinate communications, and C2 would assist Ken in funding.

Doug spoke up. “Let’s all agree on dividing the profits of this mission. I’d like to propose the same percentages that we always use—50% will be set aside for humanitarian use, 10% for each of the principles (Pedro, Me, Bill, and ‘Big O’), 5% for Ken (The moneyman), and 5% for expenses.”

“That’s okay with me,” ‘Big O’ agreed, “as long as there is at least ten million to divide.”

Bill looked at the parties around the table and added, “I would approve of splitting the first ten million five ways and the balance as Doug outlined.”

“How does that sound to everyone?” Doug asked.

Everyone agreed and shook hands, and the deal was made.

The outline was clean and basic, but the details of accomplishing each step were complicated and dangerous.

After the meeting, each team member left the meeting contemplating his personal responsibilities, and anxious to get the adventure under way.

They all stood up, stretched their bodies, and shook each other’s hands as they milled around the large round conference table.

And then ‘Big O’s’ voice was heard above the group saying, “Bill, could you get me some history and topographical maps of the Philippines. I like to know a lot about the countries in which we work—it helps a great deal in planning.”

“All I know right now, is that the islands have been called the ‘Pearl of the Orient’,” Bill said.

Harry interrupted to interject a thought that would code name their impending adventure. “It should be called the ‘Blood Red Pearl of the Orient’, with all the blood that has been shed there.”

“You’re right,” Doug added: “Most of the blood was shed during World War II, but the gold Buddha came from China and is made of blood stained gold from countless sacrifices made of many years of time.”

“The Japanese stained the Pearl red by slaughtering our men,” Harry added: “That’s American blood on the Buddha now; more than seventy-eight thousand graves are in the memorial near Manila.”

“That’s true, most of the blood is Filipino, but the American soldiers shed more than their share,” Bill said turning to ‘Big O’. “I’ll get maps and an outline of the history for you by tomorrow.”

“That’ll be fine. We only have a couple days to get this Recon group off,” ‘Big O’ commented.

With that statement, the meeting adjourned, and an event was launched that would lead them into many life threatening situations.

“I have a good source for the information that ‘Big O’ wants,” Bill said to Doug as they walked to their cars. “I can always come through with that kind of detail.”

“I can bank on it, see ya’ later,” Doug said as he approached a car that would take him and Ken to the airport.

Bill’s report provided world maps, country maps, city maps and topographical maps showing elevations and terrain. The amount of research for one day’s efforts was immense. Of course he had many computer networks from which he could download that information.

The history of the group of 7,107 Philippine islands was unique. With a population of around sixty million, only one tenth percent of the islands are inhabited. The people are Malay-Polynesian in origin with traces of Chinese, Arabic, Indian and Spanish blood running through their veins. The customs, attitudes and personalities are similar to all people of “Third-World” countries. Pilippino is the national language although English is widely spoken since it is the medium of instruction for the educational system, which is good for the American English speaking recovery team. Bill was not sure that ‘Big O’ wanted the ancient history of the Philippine Islands, but he included a sample anyway. Chinese and Arab merchants carried on trade with Filipinos as early as the 9th and 10th century. When the Portuguese navigator, Ferdinand Magellan landed in 1521—many areas were in Muslim hands. In 1565, a Spanish conquistador conquered the area of modern Manila, which made the Philippines a colony of Spain. Modern Filipino dialects like Tagalog, Ilocano, Bicolano and Cibuano have words similar to Spanish, but when spoken, the words are not discernible by Spanish speaking people. Spain was in control for 327 years, but a revolution in 1898 brought independence that was lost to the Americans in 1900; thus the American government controlled the Philippine Archipelago for forty-two years. At the outbreak of World War II, the Japanese Imperial Forces successfully invaded and occupied the Philippines from 1941 to 1945. During which time they hid thousands of tons of gold bullion, many containers of precious jewels and seven gold Buddhas in underground excavations. All of this vast wealth was stripped from invaded countries like Manchuria, Singapore, Burma, Siam and surrounding islands. The Americans, aided by Filipino guerrilla fighters, liberated the archipelago, and the Philippines were granted independence on July 4, 1946. General Yamashita, the last man supervising the gold stashes, was executed at 3:02 A.M. on February 23, 1945 (Philippine time). Yamashita’s brutality is a matter of record. He became known as the “Tiger of Malaya” because of his brutal and able tactics as he commanded field battles in Malaya and Singapore. As the Allied counter-offensive began rolling North and West in 1944, General Yamashita was summoned from Manchuria to defend the Philippines. Gold that was buried in the Philippines carries his name, Yamashita gold, because he was responsible for the last year’s efforts to hide the gold.

Bill felt it was important to include excerpts about the trial and execution of Yamashita taken from the 1945 New York Times. “‘Big O’ will find it interesting,” Bill thought, but more than that, “I noticed that the world today doesn’t know this hideous human. By writing a report, I will bring him to the forefront again.”

Scanning the newspaper through his computer modem for hours, he copied the following articles about the maniac who planned to eliminate the Filipino race, men, women and children.

YAMASHITA HANGED NEAR LOS BANOS WHERE AMERICANS WERE TORTURED

By the Associated Press.

MANILA, Saturday, Feb. 23, 1945

Lieut. Gen. Tomoyuki Yamashita, whose Japanese soldiers turned to an orgy of rape and butchery when unable to stop Gen. Douglas MacArthur’s reconquest of the Philippines, was hanged as a war criminal before dawn today in a cane field.

Once one of Japan’s ablest generals, he died in disgrace with two other Japanese officers, southeast of Manila near Los Banos, where his soldiers only a year ago killed 2,000 civilians in revenge for the dramatic release by Americans and Filipinos of Allied nationals at a near-by prison camp. He died with his last spoken words “for the Emperor’s long life.” Stripped of his uniform and medals by order of General MacArthur, the 60-year-old conqueror of Singapore walked the thirteen steps to the crude wooden scaffold attired in United States Army fatigue clothes made to look as little as possible like a uniform. (A personal disgrace for Yamashita) He was convicted of having tortured and killed Filipino civilians.

After the noose was tied, the trap sprung and the neck broken, his body was sewed into a blanket preparatory to being carried on a canvas stretcher to one of the waiting graves.

His grave will be marked by a white post, waist-high, like that of 5,000 of his men who died of dysentery and malaria after their capture. The cross will bear no name.

GIRL, 11, STIRS YAMASHITA HEARING

BY STORY OF STABS, PARENTS’ SLAYING

By Robert Trumbull

By Wireless to The New York Times.

Manila, Tuesday, Nov. 6, 1945 - Big tears streaming down her little brown face, 11-year-old Rosalinda Andoy, testifying today in the war-crimes trial of Gen. Tomoyuki Yamashita, told the story of the slaying of her father and mother by the Japanese last February.

In a tiny, quivering voice the child said her parents were bayoneted to death, her father in Fort Santiago and her mother at her side in Santo Domingo Church where the Andoy family took refuge inside Manila’s walled city of Intramuros after the Japanese had burned their home. The girl herself was bayoneted thirty-eight times. She lifted her short pink frock to her neck and showed the scars on her chest and back to military commission hearing the case of the top Japanese commander in the Philippines.

Testifying in Tagalog through an interpreter, the Andoy girl bravely stifled sobs and related how Japanese soldiers tossed grenades at the Filipino refugees as they made their way to the church.

The girl’s feet were dangling in wooden Filipino slippers that kept slipping off as she sat in the witness chair. She gravely repeated her dying mother’s last words her, “Always be good.”

American generals on the trial board wiped their eyes during the child’s testimony. Many GIs crowded into the courtroom were visibly affected by her pitiful story.

MANILA, Wednesday, Nov. 7-How Japanese forces in Intramuros, Manila’s ancient walled city, regularly abducted girls who had taken refuge from shelling in the St. Augustine Church and convent last February was related today by Sister Candida Ocampo, a Filipina nun, in testimony in the war crimes trial of Gen. Tomoyuki Yamashita.

About 6,000 men, women and children went to St. Augustine’s for safety at the urging of the Japanese, according to the prosecution. The men were removed Feb. 7 and then women and children were forced outside, and deliberately exposed to American shell fire for three hours, a second witness, Renee Pena, said. When allowed to return to the church the refugees found that their possessions had been looted.

Mariano del Rosario, a member of a burial detail, testified that in a partial excavation of two shelters he had found forty-five bodies in clerical robes, the hands tied behind their backs. He said that the bodies of priests found outside a shelter showed bayonet and bullet wounds. He also discovered forty-five bodies of men and women in the St. Augustine Church and twenty-five in the Santo Domingo Church, all bayoneted and with hands tied.

Henry Keys, London Daily Express correspondent, who entered Intramuros with the United States Army, testified to scenes of horror that greeted the troops: hundreds of dead, wounded or starved refugees, many showing bayonet wounds and saber cuts, carelessly piled corpses covered with a gray pall of fine ash and dust. He told of the discovery of a beautiful Filipina girl in St. Augustine’s Convent who said that a Japanese soldier had cut off her feet.

Pedro Lim testified he was present when Japanese soldiers would pull babies from the clutching arms of their mothers to throw them into the air and jab them with bayonets. Often the baby would remain on the end of the rifle with the bayonet penetrating the tiny body; then the soldier would toss the baby from the bayonet to the ground in front of the screaming mother with a flick of the rifle.

The facts presented in Bill’s report gave ‘Big O’ and the entire team a new perspective on the gold Buddha. Blood had definitely flowed over the Pearl of the Orient.

By the following Friday the reconnaissance team, made up of Doug, Bill and Lazer, was driving to the Los Angeles Airport preparing to board a plane headed for the politically unstable Philippine Islands.

Political unrest in the Philippines was a major factor in determining the feasibility of success of the Gold Buddha Adventure. The negotiations for the U.S. Air bases were in heated debate causing increased rebel activity trying to topple Aquino’s government. A U.S. service man had been killed after a coup attempt in December 1989, and recently all the U.S. Peace Corps members had been removed after six bombs were found planted in tourist areas. This area was definitely one of the hot spots of the world.

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