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<em>John Newlin Raker</em> was able. He never had to try very hard to do anything. His capability to get things done without any fanfare was evident in everything he ever did as a cadet. He was friendly, jovial, his disposition always bright, his wit his trademark. He was a fine and loyal friend. As company clerk of I Company and later its first sergeant, John managed the administrative details impeccably. His ability was recognized in the last half of the first class year by promotion to lieutenant. We all remembered how he loved the fun side of life too and how popular he was with the ladies.</p>
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Somewhere he developed an affectionate attachment to the Army. Perhaps it was while soldiering at Schofield Barracks, T.H., from where he received an Army appointment to West Point. His daily routine at the Academy was always marked by unquestioned military experience and confidence in academics. John was one of the oldest men in his class. Prior to enlisting in the Army, he attended Bethlehem Preparatory school for two years, 1923-25. When he entered the Military Academy, he was well equipped to face any problem.</p>
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Meanwhile, this is the story of a good man, who somehow fell by the wayside. He had been commissioned a 2nd lieutenant, Field Artillery upon graduating, serving first as a battery officer, 15<sup>th</sup> Field Artillery, at Fort Sam Houston and later as its assistant executive officer, the assignment he held on 22 December 1933 when he resigned his commission from his beloved Army. About five years later he enlisted and was later promoted to sergeant and served with the 34th Fighter Squadron in the Philippines. He rose valiantly in battle in expiation of his earlier transgression, and finally as a major, AUS, giving his last full measure of devotion, was killed while a captive of the Japanese.</p>
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In 1942 on Bataan, classmate Parks Houser, inspecting a battalion made up of what was left of our air corps in the Philippines, was told by its commander that his outstanding company was commanded by a sergeant, a West Pointer named Raker. The day of Houser’s inspection, John received a battlefield commission, and not long after was promoted to first lieutenant and eventually to major. In his own words, Houser says he found John to be “such a good man.” That’s what we thought of him at West Point. He was a soldier to the end. We salute you, John—you were a good man, and we know that as you slipped into the cold China Sea you had a smile on your face as you went to clasp hands with those others who had given their lives for their country and joined the Long Gray Line.</p>
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It was upon the surrender of Bataan that John joined the Death March, spent two months in Camp O’Donnel under horrible conditions, helped bring in rice and dig the shallow mass graves for fellow inmates. He was moved to Camp Cabanatuan where he helped to make conditions livable. He spent the next two years on work details gaining the respect of his men as he had done earlier in battle.</p>
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In October 1944 he was moved to Manila, and on the very day of the Leyte landing, 20 October 1944, with 1,800 fellow prisoners, was loaded on the Arisan Maru for Japan to be used as slave labor in coal mines and factories. Some friends had just been removed from Palawan, where shortly afterward the Japanese herded the last 142 into an underground shelter, doused it with gasoline, and set it on fire killing every one of them. This was the beastly “Palawan Massacre.” The 1,800 on the Arisan Maru were jammed into two holds at the bottom of the ship, and the hatches closed. The sea was rough as the ship sailed into a typhoon, and with the temperature soaring and oxygen diminishing in the holds, the results the Japanese wanted were soon accomplished. As the ship rolled and tossed in the rough China Sea, yet other miseries, seasickness and dehydration, were visited upon the wretched prisoners. With a complete breakdown of discipline, lack of water, diarrhea and panic, some virtually went mad and tried to harm others, while some simply died of heat prostration.</p>
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Then on 24 October about mid-afternoon one of our submarines sank the Arisan Maru. Perhaps it was just about as well since the Japanese were surely killing all but a very, very few of them. But the way in which they were suffered to die was extremely inhumane. As the ship went down, our men swam to nearby destroyers and were either shot in the water or pushed away with bamboo poles, all but seven to drown.</p>
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This is what happened during those last four agonizing days of John’s life.</p>
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<em>Classmates</em></p>
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