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<em>Howard Max Pahl</em> was born in Davenport, Iowa, 31 August 1905, the son of Max and Melanie Pahl. He had lots of fun hunting, fishing, and girl watching in his hometown on the banks of the upper Mississippi. Neighbors on South Hancock Avenue remember how of all the girls he knew, his “one and only” had to be Evelyn Saddler, for it was around number 421, where she lived, that he was always hanging out.</p>
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From the first day of Beast Barracks to the day he received his diploma at the foot of Battle Monument on 11 June 1931, Max Pahl had no equal among us for utter composure under every circumstance. Never flustered, always calm he was. It wasn’t that he, one of the oldest men in the class, had perhaps enjoyed a bit more experience in coping with adversity, but he must have been ingrained with serenity from birth. As a cadet, he was known mostly as Howard or, affectionately, as Beerbaum, approximately the surname of the 19th century caricaturist, Max Beerbohm. Our Max had an engaging way of expressing himself to fit any occasion with his own inimitable language invented on the spot. Of primary interest to him was mail call with its letter from Evelyn. On 23 June 1931 they were married. One of Max’s I Company roommates was Cook Marshall who was killed in action in World War II’s Italian Campaign.</p>
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Max spent the first three years of his service with the 2nd Infantry at Fort Sheridan. He enjoyed this assignment close to Chicago, a city he frequently raved about during cadet days. In January 1935, he was assigned to the 45th Infantry (PS), Fort McKinley, Philippines, a top-notch regiment in which he served until March 1937 as a company commander and assistant adjutant. He was, meanwhile, promoted to first lieutenant on 1 August 1935.</p>
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After completing the Infantry School Course at Fort Benning in June 1938, Max served two years with the choice 23rd Infantry at Fort Sam Houston when he volunteered to return to the Philippines; he and Evelyn arrived there on the US Army Transport Grant in the summer of 1940. He was promoted to captain (AUS) on 9 September 1940, and to captain (USA) on 1 June 1941. Max commanded Company G, 31st Infantry, Post of Manila, the only entirely American unit in the Philippine division. It had a proud history and provided many fine officers and noncommissioned officers to staff Philippine Army units upon mobilization.</p>
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As the imminence of war became apparent, dependents were evacuated— those living on our east coast on 5 May 1941 and those from our west coast on 1 July. In the next few weeks, Max and about fifty other company officers were briefed by General MacArthur and his staff, and then moved to the field to activate and train cadres for the mobilization of the new ten-division Philippine Army. They were assisted by about four hundred Philippine Scouts and American noncommissioned officers. Max’s regiment was mobilized in Occidental Negro.</p>
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On 7 December Max was recalled to the 31st Infantry and fought gallantly with it, being awarded the Bronze Star for Valor during one of the toughest and proudest engagements during January 1942 when the Japanese attempted a landing on Bataan at Agaloma Point behind our lines. There a numerically and seasoned force was repulsed by starving, but determined, defenders. Our classmate, Sam Jones, was killed in this action.</p>
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After the Philippines fell, Max took the cruel death march with his characteristic good composure. Determined to live, he survived Camp O’Donnel and suffered the indignities and hardship of Cabanatuan. Then, in October 1944, he was moved to Bilibid prison in Manila. There he witnessed our valiant Navy flyers dive their planes daily to attack the Japanese ships in the harbor, little realizing the horrible future this presaged for him and so many other prisoners of war.</p>
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On 13 December 1944, Max was loaded into the hold of the Oryoko Maru with 1618 other prisoners of war; the ship sailed out into a typhoon that afternoon. It soon became hot and muggy as the men barely had standing room; they naturally started screaming for water. The Japanese interpreter met their pleas by closing the hatches, drastically increasing the unsavory conditions among the sweating bodies. More yelling was met with threats to fire machine guns into the hold. During the night, good, brave men became crazed and clawed each other’s throats. Early in the morning, as Max had witnessed before, our Navy planes attacked, not knowing this unmarked ship carried American prisoners. The damaged ship pulled into Olongapo, discharged Japanese passengers, and then headed out into Subic Bay. During the early morning of the 15th, the Navy again strafed and bombed, blasting a large hole in the side of the ship. Max, along with many others, was killed. After the war, for their cruel and inhumane treatment of prisoners, the interpreter was sentenced to life in prison and the ship’s captain hanged.</p>
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Throughout his service, Max lived a life of loyalty and devotion to his profession. He exemplified the high ideals of West Point. In battle, his gallantry against all odds, was conspicuous. He was a brave, proud soldier to the end. To our knowledge, he was survived by his mother and two sisters.</p>
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<em>Classmates</em></p>
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