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This is the story of a soldier who, despite the bitterness of defeat, the trials of a Japanese prison camp and the agony of starvation, never compromised with his ideals of loyalty and service; and whose hope, courage and cheer were steadfast to the end of long months of intense suffering.</p>
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<em>Halstead C. Fowler</em>, known throughout the Army as “Chick”, was born on April 19, 1899, in Brooklyn, N.Y., the son of the late Halstead P. Fowler and of the late Carrie Haines Fowler. His mother lived until 1948 and is remembered with affection by many of Chick’s friends and classmates. Chick’s father was a prominent architect who designed a number of churches and public buildings, among which was the 23rd Regiment Armory of the New York National Guard. Perhaps from his father, who was a captain in the 23rd, Chick inherited his ambition to become a soldier, an ambition colored and intensified by a romantic regard for the Army, and a serious anticipation of the time when he could share its responsibilities.</p>
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His father died during Chick’s childhood and in 1906 the family moved to Charleston, South Carolina, where Chick graduated from High School in 1915 and was awarded a scholarship to Charleston College. After attending college for a year, another move took the Fowler family to Baltimore, and in the spring of 1918 Chick entered the United States Military Academy.</p>
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When New Cadet Fowler reported to West Point that June, the Military Academy gained a son for whom the tradition, love and spirit of his Alma Mater would always be a shining light. Chick’s enthusiasm won him the honor of becoming the cheer leader of the Corps, and looking back over the years we can see that he symbolized the great responsibilities of tradition and sportsmanship which were almost immediately thrust upon the Class of ‘20.</p>
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Upon graduation in 1920 Chick chose the Coast Artillery Corps and spent the next two and a half years with the 61st AntiAircraft Battalion at Fort Monroe. I remember well those days in Virginia, for Chick and I were roommates. Life was full—full of hard work, and hard play. Chick was an instructor, known by everyone, liked by everyone—referred to respectfully as “The Lieutenant”.</p>
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I remember the many class parties at the Post, with Chick usually in the leading role. I remember the football games at Yankee Stadium, and Chick’s room at the Astor as headquarters not only for the Army, but often for the Navy as well.</p>
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But this period of our lives came to a close when Chick was ordered to the Philippines in 1923. Those orders were prophetic, taking him, as they did, to the location where many years later his qualities as a soldier would undergo their most severe test in the Battle of Bataan, and where also his soul would be tried by the unspeakable deprivations of nearly three years as a prisoner of war of the Japanese. Nevertheless he found the Philippines intensely interesting, so much so that at his own request he remained there for four years of duty instead of the usual two. But his time was well spent for it was there that he learned to know and to understand the Filipino soldier, there that he acquired his first knowledge of such then obscure places as Bataan, Lingayen Gulf, and other geographical names destined twenty years later to fill the headlines.</p>
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At the end of this tour of duty in the Philippines, Chick returned to the United States for duty at Fort Sill where he served for several years. It was during this time that he decided to transfer to the Field Artillery.</p>
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In 1938 while he was on duty at Fort Benjamin Harrison, he met and married Margaret Naylor Adams (better known as Tykie) the daughter of General and Mrs. William K. Naylor. (I believe that Chick’s devotion to Tykie and her children was the sustaining force which brought him through the long months and years when he was a prisoner of the Japanese.)</p>
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Soon after his marriage he was ordered to the Command and General Staff School at Fort Leavenworth, Kansas. After his graduation there he served for a time as Assistant Professor of Military Science and Tactics at Ohio State University.</p>
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During the years he had, of course, been promoted, and, when in October 1941 he was again ordered to the Philippines he held the rank of Major to be followed soon by promotion to Lieutenant Colonel. Upon arrival at Manila he became the Commanding Officer, 71st Field Artillery, Philippine Army. He trained his men at Camp O’Donnel, northwest of Manila, from the middle of November (1941) until December 7, when the storm broke. Surely a minimum of preparation for the bloody, discouraging days ahead!</p>
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Upon the announcement of hostilities Chick’s regiment marched north, and on December 24 he was awarded the Distinguished Service Cross for extraordinary heroism in action at the Agno River (which flows northward into Lingayen Gulf). Our forces were pitifully small to fling against the advancing hordes of Japanese and as the Americans and Filipinos were forced to retreat from both the north and south fronts, the order came to retire to Bataan for the last stand.</p>
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By the morning of December 30 Chick and his regiment had fallen back to the little town of Balinag, about twenty miles north of Manila. The enemy was driving hard to cut off the southern forces so that they could not get through to Bataan. At Balinag Chick’s outfit, plus the 194th Tank Battalion, held off the main Japanese invading force coming down from the north. In spite of orders to retire to Bataan, they stayed and fought at Balinag until the southern force had reached Calumpit Bridge and effected its juncture on Bataan with the northern force. This was the action of which Chick himself seemed the most proud, although later, at Moron, just south of Subic Bay. where his regiment was holding the western anchorage of the Bataan defense line, he received the Silver Star on January 30, 1942, and a second Distinguished Service Cross on January 21—this time because in spite of having been seriously wounded in the chest by machine gun fire he refused to be evacuated and remained in command until relieving troops arrived. His bravery had “prevented the entire 1st Division from being cut of, surrounded and ultimately annihilated”, as quoted from the citation. During four weeks of action he was awarded three Purple Hearts.</p>
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Then followed the discouraging months which led to the complete collapse of Bataan, the now-historic Death March, and the long years in prison camps, beginning at Camp O’Donnel, next Cabanatuan, then the Dwas Penal Colony Farm, and finally, Bilibid Prison at Manila.</p>
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In a prison camp one is bereft of all the stimulations and comforts that make normal life so pleasant to Americans. In a prison camp there is none of the excitement or ambition of idealism, or sheer love of fighting that carries one along in a campaign. There is only a filth of crowdedness and a dreary, stultified repression. The single acute reaction is a never-ending internal gnawing, as weeks and months drag by with a thousand consecutive meals consisting only of a little pan of rice, punctuated by soup made of boiled weeds. As the body feeds upon itself, a great deal of the veneer, which we like to call civilization, disappears, often clouding the perceptions, reducing a man to a starving animal. Only a noble few can retain their principles and their ideals, and accept their responsibilities to others when their own stomachs are desperately empty. It is the supreme test of what a man really is. It is a test more soul searching than most of us are ever called upon to endure, but it was a test which Chick Fowler met with patience, equanimity, integrity, good humor and hope; with complete confidence in his country. Even though his eyes faded away almost to complete blindness, he never complained. He never lost his intense interest in life, his sense of humor, his gentlemanliness, or his buoyant trust in the military power of the United States.</p>
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When Manila was retaken by our own forces in February 1945 Chick was a man who was broken physically, but only physically. He was impatient to get to his farm in Afton, Virginia, but it took a year of hospitalization to put him sufficiently on his feet to go home. Then he was retired on September 30, 1946, with the rank of Colonel.</p>
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Soon thereafter he was paid a personal visit by the Honorable J. M. Elizalde, Ambassador for the Philippine Islands, who presented him with the Gold Cross Medal for outstanding bravery, awarded by the Republic of the Philippines, the last of the long list of medals and awards in recognition of his service.</p>
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Chick was happy at his farm, but in spite of every effort and the tireless care of his wife, he was never able to recover his eyesight or his original health and strength. Then in 1950 came his final blow, for life was still to exact more months of intense suffering before he could go to his last rest. Nevertheless all through his last illness he retained his equanimity, his hope and courage. Unable to eat, unable to see, unable to speak, he could still listen to his visitors with enthusiasm, and write his part of the conversation on a scratch pad.</p>
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Gradually he dwindled away until it was obviously hopeless. His last days were spent in the surroundings he loved. On September 7, 1960 the end came. A few days later at Arlington more than one great soldier came quietly to pay tribute to Chick Fowler. He was a man.</p>
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<em>—W. C. C., with A. McC.</em></p>
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