 Soldiers of the press! It is a tale that should be put in scrapbooks and read in schoolrooms. A tale that should shame every civilian who has groused about the war and its sacrifices and hardships. It is a story of average men facing death or capture with all the odds against them. That editorial comment in the Cincinnati Post was inspired by Frank Hewlett's traumatic eyewitness account of the fall of Vatan. Frank Hewlett of United Press was the only regular correspondent who remained on the bomb-blasted bullet-rake peninsula until the very end of Vatan's grim dogged resistance. Here then is the personal story of Frank Hewlett, soldier of the press. They say that kids from Idaho are born with roving feet. I know I was. Fogatello is my hometown, and I got my first newspaper job in the Idaho State Journal. But even then, I had the orient in mind. And as fast as my roving feet to newspaper jobs could carry me, I got there. For five years, I roamed the Pacific, looking for headline material and adventure. Then, in a few short weeks, I found more headline stories, more adventure, and more experience than a newspaper man ordinarily can hope for in a lifetime. It all began on a well-remembered Sunday, December 7, 1941. I was in Manila, a member of the staff of the United Press Bureau there. Richard Wilson, our bureau manager, was away in a trip. Word had just reached us of the bombing of Pearl Harbor. I got your message at home, Frank, and came right down. How bad is that? Doesn't look too good. Japs, apparently, have handed Pearl Harbor an awful pasting. Details aren't quite clear yet. Any news from Wilson yet? I had a cable from him earlier, scheduled to fly in from Hong Kong. I've been trying to reach Hong Kong, but no luck. I have a phone call in now for Pan-American to see what they know. Oh, this may be it now. Do you hear that? Thanks. Hello? Yes, speaking. Oh, I see. They didn't get away? Too bad. Well, do you think there's a chance that... I see. Yeah. It's thanks. Well, what's the word? The clipper didn't get away. They're not sure just what did happen, but they say there's not much hope that anyone in Hong Kong will get away from there now. Well, brother, it looks like you inherited quite an assignment. It does that. And I'll need the cooperation of all of you. You bet, chief. Count on us, Frank. There's a big job ahead, and war is not exactly my dish, you know. I never happened to run into a war before. Overnight, I blossomed into a war correspondent. We had a good staff, and everyone pitched in to cover the biggest story any of us ever had encountered. To begin with, I had a lucky break. The United Press had a venerable old wireless transmitter in Manila. Not much to look at. Power was low, and the antenna was strong on bamboo poles. But by one of the strange quirks of radio, its signal could be heard clearly by the UP listening post at San Diego, Chile. We kept it going for the first three weeks of the war. Supplying news to New York headquarters frequently hours before the same news could be moved over regular communication channels. Hewlett's wife, Virginia Hewlett, played a major part in scoring one such beat. She had volunteered to help the overworked staff in High Commissioner Sayer's office. But Mrs. Hewlett shared her husband's instinct and enthusiasm for a big story. Manila, by December 27th, had been declared an open city in an effort to spare it further bombings. When swarms of Japanese bombers roared over the city, Mrs. Hewlett rushed to the UP Bureau to lend a hand. Hewlett had gone to the port area where the attack was heaviest. Yes, Frank. Sounds kind of lively out there. It is. They just got a church. Ready? Far away. A 16th century church and school have just been smashed. I walked on ruined school books, torn tablets from children's desks, and examination papers which had been bomb blasted from the elementary school. As I passed, three aged nuns were being escorted into the streets. The church is in flames. Lifeless bodies are being removed. And others, I believe, buried in the debris. A score of persons were killed at prayer. That's all for now. Frank, you've got a tremendous story here. We've got a tremendous story, honey. Take care of yourself. Be seeing you. Be seeing you. A few weeks later, the Japanese army closed in on Manila. Virginia Hewlett, still at her post in Commissioner Sayer's office, was in Manila proper. Hewlett was at the front with American and Filipino troops. We learned on New Year's Eve that the Japs had Manila and that MacArthur was withdrawing his forces to Bataan Peninsula. There was no time for anybody to lose. We knew bridges to the peninsula had been mined and were to be blown up as soon as the troops got across. My car and Tony, my native chauffeur, were waiting to get going. Ready now, please, boss? Plenty hurry. I know, Tony, but I've been trying to reach Mrs. Hewlett. But to make sure she got out of the city all right. Hey, Hewlett! Hold on! Message for you! Here, this just came by courier. Oh, fine. Thanks. Oh, hold everything, Tony. This is probably for Mrs. Hewlett. Mrs. Hewlett, okay? Regret to inform you, Mrs. Hewlett failed to escape. She'd be seeing us like she always say? Huh? Oh, yes, that's right, Tony. She'll be seeing us. Hey, I've got six steps on it, Hewlett. Don't you know the bridges to Bataan are mined? They'll blow her up midnight. All right, Tony, let's go. Plenty hurry, huh, boss? Yeah, that's right. You are, Tony. Well, it's just got across in time. Yeah, look at watch after midnight. Happy New Year, boss. Yes. Happy New Year, Tony. Hewlett's was the last car to reach Bataan. There, he established contact with his headquarters office in New York by means of Navy radio and covered the 98-day siege of the peninsula from beginning to end. Bataan wasn't so bad the first two months. The man began the fight as seasoned, strong, carefree soldiers talking about how they'd pay off the japs when reinforcements arrived. For they believed that reinforcements would arrive. That was the beginning of the siege. At the end, every man had lost weight and was dragging himself by willpower alone into actions. They'd eaten every water buffalo in the peninsula. They'd eaten all the horses at the 26th Cavalry and most of the pack mules. They'd eaten stewed monkey. And still, there wasn't enough food. Rations had been cut in half and then cut again. Tea, coffee, sugar, and flour had disappeared. There were two slender meals a day, plain rice for one meal and rice with canned milk for the other. I've seen a soldier pay five pesos, the equivalent of two and a half dollars for one cigarette. I've seen a group of them line up and each man take a drag on a single cigarette. Some tried to smoke dried bark and leaves. Then the quinine began to give out. On April 9th, the Army radio, the voice of freedom made the grim announcement. The voice of freedom speaking, but Tan has fallen. The Filipino and American troops on this war-ravaged blood-stained peninsula have laid down their arms with their heads bloody but unbound. Frank Hewlett was the only regular American press correspondent who remained on baton until the very end of resistance. He then withdrew with the defenders to Corregidor. It was a strange procession that brave strafing by Japanese planes to stream across the treacherous five miles of water between Baton and Corregidor, a ragtag fleet of every available boat. One bright spot in the tragic day was that the nurses were evacuated safely. One of them, Erlene Allen of Jacksonville, Illinois, I had known in Manila. She and her doctor fiancé, Captain Garnett Francis of Alexandria, Virginia, have been friends of my wife's and mine. Frank Hewlett? Gosh, it's so good to see you. It's good to see you too, Erlene. Oh, now take it easy now. Everything's okay. Of course. I'm sorry to be such a baby. Just seeing you standing there. I know, I know. What about Gary? Gary and I were married, Frank, on Baton two months ago. We had to keep it a secret because I would have had to resign. We wanted to stay together as long as possible. I said goodbye last night at the field hospital. Oh, poor kid. It's tough. Gary's staying there, of course, for the other doctors to look after the patients. If only they'd let me stay, too. I know how you feel. Tell me, how about Virginia? Is she all right? Well, I'm not sure. You see, she couldn't get out of Manila before the Japs took over. She's still there. Virginia? In an internment camp? That's it. And what a story she'll bring out with her. A tremendous story. I can hear her saying it. Tremendous. You've got a tremendous story to handle right here and now, yourself. A tale that should shame every civilian who has groused about this war and its sacrifices and hardships. That's what a newspaper editorial writer said of the dispatch Frank Hewlett sent back that night. Listen to it in Hewlett's own words. At the end, the Bataan army crumbled like the one horse shea. And I know why. Yes, I know why. Because Americans and Filipinos had fought 15 days and 15 nights without pause, with dive bombers shrieking down on them in droves and heavy bombers pulverizing their rear. I know why. Because the Japs brought in long-range artillery that laid down terrific barrages. And because tanks were used unmercifully to dislodge our dug-in forces from their foxholes, because the Japs brought in fresh, well-fed shock troops, the pick of the Makato's armies. And our men were hungry and tired and sick. I know why. In the last desperate showdown, the battle of the Bataan ended because the quinine pills ran out. There was ammunition aplenty. There was courage aplenty too. But there was no quinine to fight that deadliest of our enemies. Malaria. All the men fought well. Not even now is all the story known of the heroism and endurance of the Filipinos and Americans who fought so stoutly in jungle fastnesses and along the rugged coast. They had faith and was unconquerable. They were fighting for their people and their country and for freedom and dignity and pride. Bataan has fallen. But its spirit stands. A beacon to liberty-loving peoples of the world. Yes, that was a tremendous story. A story that won for Frank Hewlett the award of the National Headliners Club for Outstanding Individual Enterprise. When General Roy staged his daring bombing raids on Japanese positions in the Philippines during the siege of Corregidor, Hewlett returned with him to Australia to continue his assignment as war correspondent for the United Press. Today his dispatches are datelined with allied forces somewhere in New Guinea. Your local announcer will tell you when you may hear the story of another of the soldiers of the press who, like Frank Hewlett, are witnessing and reporting frontline action. Be sure to listen. And meanwhile, look for United Press news in your favorite newspaper. Listen for United Press news on the air. It is your guarantee of the world's best coverage of the world's biggest news. Thank you.