#48. Incredible Escape: 2,100 Miles, 30 Days, in an Open Boat

Episode 48 – John Morrill – Episode Transcript

Cold Open
[Narrator] Bombs rocked a small island in Manila Bay near 11 pm on the night of May 6, 1942. The Philippine Islands were in the final death throws of war, as Corregidor Island surrendered to Japanese forces in a wrenching, fierce battle.
The bombings and smoke cast an eerie orange and yellow glow into the sky and across the seemingly endless expanses of water. The explosions filled the air, and their concussions could be felt by the 17 men in a small motor launch making its way, under cover of darkness, away from the islands and the bombings.
Suddenly, the boat’s captain realized their pharmacists mate wasn’t on board.
[Morrill] “Didn’t Head want to come?”
[Narrator] Lt. Commander John Morrill asked the other men.
[Crew 1] “I couldn’t find him in the tunnel, Captain,”
[Narrator] A crew member said, while another volunteered:
[Crew] “I know the Doc was counting on coming. He’s been packed up and ready to go all afternoon.”
[Morrill] “We’re going to back for him!”
[Narrator] Morrill announced in a voice that allowed for no objections. It was a risky move, as the island fort was still under constant bombardment.
They reached the island’s shattered dock and a crewman jumped from the boat, sprinting up the dock. He returned moments later, with Doc behind him, both men running as if death was chasing them.
A Japanese shell hit the other end of the dock, destroying a power plant and downing a crane. The dock caught fire, burning fiercely, as flames leapt into the night sky.
The two men jumped into the waiting boat, and they gunned the throttle, streaming full steam away from the inferno behind them and into the dark, open, unknown.

This is Left Behind.

Podcast Welcome
Welcome to “Left Behind,” a podcast about the people left behind when the US surrendered The Philippines in the early days of WW2. I’m your host and researcher, Anastasia Harman. My great-grandfather Alma Salm was one of the POWs, and his memoir inspired me to tell the stories of his fellow captives.
If you, like me, believe it's important for people to hear this relatively unknown part of World War II history. Please consider sharing this episode with a friend. Word of mouth is the number one way that people find new podcasts. So by sharing, you’re helping to keep these important stories alive.

This episode is an adventure story like no other. As Corregidor fell behind them, 18 sailors set out in a small, open boat in an attempt to escape capture and get to Australia. It was beyond risky, with death waiting all around them at enemy hands or the whims of a precocious ocean.
But it didn’t stop them, and this is a survival story you absolutely want to hear.

Let’s jump in.

During the War
[Narrator] In early December 1941, the minesweeper USS Quail was at the Cavite Naval Yard in Manila Harbor, undergoing major overhauling. In command of that ship was a 39-year-old Navy officer and 1924 Naval Academy graduate named John Morrill. The renovations complete, Morrill ordered the Quail into Manilla Harbor to test its repaired engines when the first wave of Japanese bombers and fighters flew over them.
[Morrill] “We just kept right on testing her, [and] also our guns,”
[Narrator] Lt. Commander Morrill later recalled.
What he meant is that he oversaw the Quail going back to the burning Cavite Navy Yard and towing ships to safety. He earned a Navy Cross for these actions. That citation reads:
[Citation] “Lt. Commander Morrill, displaying extraordinary courage and determination, proceeded to the dangerous area and towed disabled ships to safety, thereby undoubtedly saving the crews from serious danger and the vessels for further war service.”

[Narrator] By the time Allied forces had retreated to Bataan in early January 1942, it was too late for the USS Quail to leave Philippine waters – because the Japanese had set up a naval blockade around the islands. Morrill and the commanding officers of two other minesweepers stranded in The Philippines talked of leaving Manila and taking their chances with the naval blockade. Morrill said:
[Morrill] “We figured when Bataan fell, we’d slug our way out somehow past the ever-tightening blockade of Japan destroyers about Corregidor. It was a one-to-twenty bet but it was a chance we were willing to take. Our three small mine sweepers together hardly equaled on Jap destroyer in fire power, but on the Quail, we made up our minds we were going to have a fling at it anyhow.”
[Narrator] But that never happened. But the idea of escape was planted in many of the crewmembers’ heads from that point on.
The Quail was ordered to assist Commander Frank Bridget in clearing some Japanese landing forces off Longoskawayan Point, in southern Bataan and well behind enemy lines – as part of several actions that would become known as the Battle of the Points.
I covered these skirmishes in episode 13 – which details how Commander Bridget created a rag-tag infantry battalion out of aviators and sailors (with no prior combat training or experience) and held off the Japanese inland advance on Longoskawayan Point, with often hilarious results. It’s hands down my #1 favorite Left Behind episode and will give more details about the Battle of the Points.
Episode 14 continues that story with Commander Henry Goodall, who created a makeshift Navy out of little boats and worked with the USS Quail to, from the water side, eliminate Japanese forces hiding in the caves of the various points’ cliffs.
Beyond assisting with this operation, Morill oversaw the Quail in minesweeping around Corregidor, although that was sometimes interrupted with “bird-dogging” Japanese planes – trying to shoot them down as they came out of a dive after attacking a target on Bataan or Corregidor.
A minesweeper’s job was to locate and clear contact mines (those are mines that go off when coming in contact with a ship) from water ways. According to the National WW2 Museum, during WW2, here’s how contact mines were swept:
[Website] “These mines are swept by breaking the cable that holds them underwater. Once the mine rises to the surface it is usually sunk by gunfire. Unlike many movies, these mines do not usually explode when hit with a bullet. Instead, the bullet will only puncture the casing and cause the mine to sink to the bottom.”
[Narrator] The Quail continued minesweeping as needed around Corregidor Island up until the last days before Corregidor’s fall. At 4:30 am on May 6, 1942, while the US Marines and other infantry forces on Corregidor were attempting to block the Japanese landings and advances on the island, Lt. Commander Morrill was ordered to take the 24 remaining USS Quail crew members (the remainder had been turned over to the Army for ground combat) and go to Ft. Hughes on a small island on the edge of Manila Bay.
They loaded into two gasoline-powered boats from their ship as well as a 36-foot Diesel-powered boat. The trip took 15 mins, with the shells being launched from Ft. Hughes toward Corregidor Island constantly streaming over their heads.
The boats and crew arrived at Ft. Hughes safely and the men ran down the docks and into the island’s tunnels, as Japanese bombs and shells exploded around them. Once inside, Morrill received orders for the crew to build some sandbag walls, which they did, while avoiding the continuous shelling.
In the afternoon, Morrill received word that he was to scuttle the USS Quail, which was anchored offshore of Corregidor. To get there, Morrill and a few other crew members first had to swim out to the boats that would get them there. Of that swim, Morrill described:
[Morrill] “We could feel the water quiver and shake when a bomb missed the forts and landed in it. It was a queer, empty, gone feeling, as though the earth were jiggling around Atlas’ shoulders. It made your stomach turn over, and I knew how a punch-drunk fish felt….
“We tried to take care of those dive bombers that were strafing us by pulling the old trick of ducking our heads underwater to sell the Nips the idea we were hit. Some of the bullets came close to us, but, after all, each plane could only bear on us for a few seconds at a time, and all of their shots went wild.”
[Narrator] After obtaining the gas-powered boat, the crew members faced an open sprint across the water to the Quail. Here’s Morrill again:
[Morrill] “Our pals, the dive bombers, [were] cavorting in the air over us. A couple of them caught sight of us and thought we looked like easy picking. As they zoomed over us with the air shrilling against their fuselage, I told the men to take to the floorboards as if they’d been hit.”

[Narrator] The ruse worked, and the dive bombers soon found more interesting targets. Once on the Quail, the men set off demolition charges, then deboarded the ship back to the small boat, positioning themselves behind the Quail, which was still enough afloat to shield them Japanese artillery on Corregidor.
[Sailor] “What’ll we do now, Captain?”
[Narrator] one of the sailors asked.
[Morrill] “We’re going to pick up the rest of the Quail gang, hide out here until after dark, and get away from this place.”
[Narrator] Since the days where the Quail and two other minesweepers started plans to make a run through the naval blockade, the Quail’s crew had been talking about grabbing a boat and attempting to escape. And this was literally their last chance to do so.
Morrill and the 5 other men made their way cautiously back to Ft. Hughes, where they anchored their launch next to a wrecked tugboat. The sailors boarded the tug, to wait for darkness. While waiting, they scoured the tug for supplies and came away diesel oil, blankets, cases of corned beef and salmon – and, most importantly, a couple of compasses and a map of the islands between them and Australia. This would become their main source of navigation on their journey.
Once the sun had gone down, the men determined it was time to go to back into Ft. Hughes and round up the Quail’s crew members still waiting there. But one of Morrill’s demolition band had to brave the continued bombings to the crew. Morrill decided he wouldn’t be the one to go, saying:
[Morrill] “We had been away from the fort and out of communication with our own headquarters . . . Being on my own I was entitled to make my own decisions. But suppose I went back up there and received a direct order to surrender from a superior officer? It wouldn’t make any difference if the order came from an Army officer, I would still be bound by it.”
[Narrator] Better to ask forgiveness than permission, or so they say. Another man rowed a small boat to the fort and quietly told the Quail crew that their captain wished to speak with them. They came, and Morrill addressed his crew on the shores of Ft. Hughes:
[Morrill] “Let me have your attention just a second. You all know what the situation is. If you surrender without irritating the Japs too much, they may treat you all right. On a logical basis, your chances of remaining alive are probably better staying here, and some of our officers feel that escape is impossible. On the other hand, quite a few of you want to make the attempt, and if you want to try, I’m not going to ask you to stay here and surrender. I don’t know exactly how we’re going to do it, but I’ve got an idea and I think I can get you through. You’ve got to hurry up and make your choice because we’ve got to get out of here damned fast if we’re going.”
[Narrator] 16 men decided to come and piled into the 36-foot, open air, diesel-powered boat.
36 feet is roughly the length of an American school bus, to give a comparison. The boat was also open air – meaning it had no covering. It, of course, had a diesel motor at one end, and then rows of benches in the remainder (as best I can tell from a picture of it, which I’ve posted on the website and Facebook). To me, a non-sailing land lover, the boat reminds me of a large rowboat, or lifeboat.
It was over capacity, sitting so low in the water there was a mere 6 inches between the water surface and the top of the boat’s side.
They started out, but soon realized they’d forgotten Head, the Pharmacists Mate, who Morrill knew wanted to escape. They mortared toward the Hughes dock, where the man was running down the now burning dock. He jumped in, and the boat headed south.
Morrill recalled:
[Morrill] “Looking back, as we headed out to sea, at the figures of the ones we’d left behind silhouetted against the glow was one of the eeriest sights I’ve ever seen. Maye it was the sudden gush of felling at knowing that we were leaving a place in which I had more than half expected to die. Maybe the strain of the past days, with the super-strain of the last twenty-four hours piled on top, made me feel fey and lightheaded. Anyway, I felt I was in a kind of never-never land somewhere between being alive and slipping over the edge of things.”
[Narrator] That was at 11:15 pm on May 6, 1942.

Away from Ft. Hughes, the men had two factors against them that night. First, the full moon would be up at 1 am, giving them only 2 hours to find safety before the full moon gave away their location. And two, where to go? They decided to head south down the coast of Luzon Island and away from Corregidor, Bataan, and Manila Bay – with the goal of getting to Mindanao Island, where the US had many forces. Knowing there were mines in the waters they sailed, Morrill put two men at the boat’s front, looking down into the water as mine spotters. He gave 4 of his most sharp-eyed men binoculars to keep an eye out for Japanese ships.
As the moon came up, it illuminated the area.
[Morrill] “In that half light we saw a Jap destroyer close by to seaward and headed the boats to the southeast, toward shore. As the moon poked up higher we saw a second and third destroyers bracketing the first and patrol boats between the destroyers. By this time we had melted into a background of foliage and were creeping along the shore southward.”
[Narrator] They soon came around a coastal bend to a horrible sight.
[Morrill] “Directly ahead of use was another Jap destroyer and more patrol boats then we could count. So, I turned the beat around a ducked into a cove.”
[Narrator] They could see several good hiding places on shore, but the lookouts spotted shoals that would be tricky to navigate in the darkness, so they anchored on the inland side of small island and get some sleep.
Waking a half hour before dawn, Morrill told his crew:
[Morrill] “This time, we’ve got to snake her in, no matter what happens. Shoals or no shoals.”
[Narrator] They made for a stretch of sandy beach in the cove. Three men jumped into the shallow water to guide the boat through the coral heads for a bit, then the crew guided the boat slowly through the water, avoiding shoals, until they were able to get close enough to the beach to tie the boat to a tree.
Once on land, they used hatchets to down trees and branches to camouflage the boat. Morrill climbed to the top of a nearby hill and, to his dismay, learned that they were only about 5 miles south of Corregidor.
Exhausted, the men spread out blankets in a hidden area and slept, despite the rocks on the ground, for 4 hours, until a lookout shouted that a Japanese mine sweeper followed by a string of patrol boats was heading their way. The Quail crew, hiding in the bushes, watched the boats get closer and closer, not knowing what to do if they were spotted. With a sigh of relief, Morrill watched the boats pass by their hiding place.
The crew spent a peaceful afternoon refueling their bodies with the salmon and canned beef they’d found earlier. Then the lookouts came tearing down the hill that Japanese soldiers were coming at them from the land side. Two other men went to scout the approaching soldiers, while the rest of crew scrambled for a defense plan. With in 5 minutes, the scouts came back to camp, laughing – the invading army was actually Filipino natives going to work in the fields.
[Lookout] “Natives, hell! I heard ‘em crawling around in the trees and branches,”
[Narrator] said one of the original lookouts.
[Scout] “Those were iguanas. I heard ‘em too.”
[Narrator] replied one of the scouts.
Relieved that they weren’t about to be attacked, the crewmen began preparing to leave the cove when night fell. But around sunset, the bow of a Japanese destroyer peaked around the corner of the cove. The men hid and watched anxiously, hoping beyond hope that the destroyer wouldn’t turn into the cove and anchor there for the night.
Thankfully it didn’t. Instead, it dropped anchor in the mouth of the cove and began to shut down for the night. Morrill gathered his men to discuss how to get out of the cove that night without using their motor, which could alert sentries on the destroyer. They couldn’t row out because they didn’t have any oars. They thought about pulling the boat through the shallow waters, but the coral reefs would tear up feet and most the men couldn’t swim through the deeper areas.
In the end, they decided to remain in the cove one more day. When morning came, the Japanese destroyer weighed anchor and sailed toward Manila. The Quail crewmen rested and slept as best they could, and at sunset again started getting ready to leave the cove.
And then the Japanese destroyer reappeared, but luckily it passed by the cove entirely, turning into the next cove south.
The crewmen made a dash for the boat, and they began to make their way slowly and carefully through the shoals, then out of the cove and into open water. Clouds covered the sky, blocking out starlight and making it an ideal night to slip past other destroyers and ships in the water.
As that small boat made its way southward, out of nowhere, Morrill noticed three destroyers passing them, heading south. Thinking a good place for their boat would be directly behind those destroyers, Morrill maneuvered the boat into their wake. He recalled:
[Morrill] “We tailed them for about a thousand yards, when … heading across our course to the shore was still another Japan can. We were on a collision course with this one and certain to bump into it unless we moved quickly. I gave the boat a hard rudder and spun her around. The Jap cleared us by a few hundred yards—the distance was anybody’s guess in the dark.”
[Narrator] Ahead of them now was the relatively small Fortune Island about 8 miles offshore from Luzon Island and a little more than 20 miles south of Corregidor. In the small bay between Fortune Island and the Luzon coastline, a small navy of Japanese patrol boats were clustered together. So, Morrill, wanting to avoid the Japanese boats, steered for the ocean side of Fortune Island, rounded the island until past the area where the patrol boats were clustered, then headed again toward the Luzon coastline.
They pushed their engine to full throttle and began lightening the boat by tossing out anything heavy and unneeded – like machine guns – as they cut through the darkness, eventually losing site of the patrol boats now well to their north.
They searched for a place to stop for the day but couldn’t find a good place until just after sunup on May 9. From that location, they could see the Cape Santiago Lighthouse. Unable to get the boat ashore, they anchored offshore and remained in the boat, resting all day. They were now about 35 miles from Corregidor.

Let’s stop for a moment and discuss the geography of Southeastern Luzon Island, which is The Philippines largest island.
Now, Luzon Island… reminds me of a zombie’s profile. My Filipino friends, I don’t want to be offensive, I’m just trying to create a visual for all to understand the movements of Morrill and his men. And, to everyone, I apologize for the crude analogy, but it’s truly the only visual analogy I could think of.
So, picture a zombie’s profile facing left (geographically it is facing west). Manila Bay would be the gaping, see through mouth area, with Bataan peninsula forming the upper, exposed teeth. Hamilo Point, where the Quail group stopped the first night would be the location of the bottom (but missing) teeth.
Cape Santiago, where we’ve left them sleeping in the boat for the day, would be the bottom of the chin – and basically directly south of Manila Bay and Hamilo Point. (By the way, on top of the Zombie’s head sits one of those iconic Buckingham Palace guard hats, tipped backward toward the right – or east, geographically. But we’re not worried about that part of the island.)
From Cape Santiago, the island’s coast turns to the right when we’re looking at the map (that’s heading east geographically), creating the under portion of the jaw. Now, imagine this Zombie’s head isn’t attached to a body. Instead, you see a portion of an exposed spine, that twists up and down a couple times, in an overall southeastern direction.
This will give you a rough image of the island, to help you picture the journey a bit better. I’ve put some maps on the Left Behind website and Facebook page.

OK, let’s get back to Morrill and his sleeping companions. They left their secluded cove after dark, and made their way around Cape Santiago (remember, that’s the chin) and headed eastward. At this point, they found themselves in the Verde Island passage, which runs between Luzon Island and Mindoro Island (another of The Philippines larger islands).
In the passage, which is between 10-15 miles wide, depending on the point, are some small islands. The passage was also patrolled by Japanese boats. Morrill recalled:
[Morrill] “There were two Japan patrol boats parked in the passage ahead and two more—on either side of us. However, they were well apart from each other—about 2000 yards. And we went crawling in there between them through the passage.”
[Narrator] Then they saw two more patrol boats, two destroyers, and a large submarine. To make matters worse, their engine was having some trouble, they had to keep it to a slow pace so the engine noise wouldn’t arouse suspicion, and the tide was against them, so basically, they weren’t moving at all – or being pushed completely backward with the tide, making them sitting ducks surrounded by large, armed enemy craft.
In the early morning hours, the tide changed, the engine problems were fixed, and they charged forward. Morrill was manning the tiller, while the rest of the men slept.
[Morrill] “I had hold of the tiller and stood there swaying back and forth with the pressure of the water against it. Looking ahead, I noticed that we were entering a moonlit river with high trees on each side. On one of these trees was a farmhouse and a windmill perched on its topmost limb. Trying to think what a house was doing on top of a tree; I shook my head so I could see it more clearly and it was gone. The river had gone too. There was nothing there but the broad open water and the bay.
“’Guns,’ I said [to a crewmate], ‘I’m a little pooped. You take the tiller. Keep that high peak over there on your port bow and give me a call in about half an hour.’
“I curled up around his feet and went to sleep…. When he woke me, dawn was breaking and we were well up the coast.
“’I would have let you sleep loner,’ he explained, “but … I saw breakers right ahead of us and I was about to turn around to avoid ‘em, when all of a sudden they weren’t there any more, so I figured I’d better do something about it before I mistook a Jap cruiser for San Diego Harbor.”
[Narrator] Obviously the lack of sleep and immense use of energy of the last several days had caught up with them.
They landed on a secluded beach later that morning, May 10. Friendly Filipinos arrived with lots of food, and showed the crew where they could get fresh water and take baths. That night, they continued south and west into the “spine” portion of the island. They made about 50 miles that night and stopped just after dawn on May 11.
Their engine was in very bad shape, so the engineers of the group set to disassembling most of it, fixing broken parts and then trying to reassemble it. In the meantime, a wealthy Filipino native found the rest of the crew and invited them into his home for food and washing and rest.
While enjoying the man’s hospitality – including a clean shave with a rusty razor, someone arrived with a Manila newspaper. Now, for the past 5 days, the men with Morrill knew nothing about what was going on in Manila Bay. They knew Corregidor and other harbor defense islands of Manila Bay had surrendered. But they didn’t know the extent of that surrender.
Morrill got hold of the newspaper.
[Morrill] “There, in a square block on the front page, was a warning that all Filipino and American soldiers, sailors, and officers must surrender themselves at certain listed surrender points prior to noon on May 12 after which the Imperial Army would not accept their surrender.”
“’They’ll be looking for people like us with a butterfly net, starting tomorrow noon,’ [a crewman named] Taylor said gloomily.
“For some reason, having the distant bay of the Jap bloodhounds brought closer by that newspaper made me stubborn and balky.
“’Keep your shirt on,’ I told Taylor. “Tomorrow noon is going to be just like any other day to us.”
[Narrator] And indeed it was. They remained at their location while the engineers continued working on the engine. The Filipinos who worked for the wealthy landowner created and installed a mast, in case the motor couldn’t be fixed.
Still, the news of the whole-Philippines surrender changed the men’s plans. You’ll recall that they were originally planning to get to Mindanao Island. The news of total surrender nixed that idea.
[Morrill] “’From now on,’ I told the crew, ‘We are just 18 guys hell-bent for Australia by way of The Philippines and Dutch East Indies.”
[Narrator] Their plans changed, and the engine finally fixed and working, the men prepared to leave on the night of May 13. They consulted with the Filipinos on the best route – planning to head south through the Pacific side of the remaining Philippine Islands, then continue in a southeastern direction through the eastern middle side of the Dutch East Indies (present-day Indonesia) and then south to Australia.
The fixed engine was quieter and faster than it had been before, and they made their way south past the tail end of Luzon Island. For the next 4 days, they continued in a southeastern direction, heading through open water, a bit of a storm, and the smaller straights of the middle Philippines islands toward the Pacific. They stopped once or twice for rest, but mainly sailed through day and night, since there weren’t as many Japanese ships to be on the lookout for. And when they did encounter an enemy ship, the ship didn’t seem to notice them, probably since their boat was so small and low profile that no one took notice.
Finally, on the morning of May 17, they spotted the Pacific Ocean, and began heading down the eastern Mindanao Coast. They were 590 miles and 11 days from Corregidor. The next day, they made landfall in a small Mindanao cove, where they were greeted by some Filipinos who shared lumber with them, and the crew built higher sides for the boat and added decking over the front, which men could lay under to help protect against the sun, rain, and waves.
The group remained in the bay that night, but Morrill woke up with a start:
[Morrill] “What [I] heard was a faint, far away drone, more like a drawn-out sigh. … Gradually it got louder and more unmistakable. … It was the familiar song of a Jap patrol boat. The feeling of being in a trap came back to us, doubled and redoubled.
“I said to [the boat’s doctor], ‘Go call the boys and tell them to get into the boat and break out the guns.’
“He had only taken about ten steps when he bumped into the whole kit and caboodle of them rushing in our direction. Telling the lookouts to keep down behind the lumber piles, [my main crewmembers] and I went into a committee on getting ourselves out of there and saving 18 skins.
“But most of all we wanted to save the boat. The boat meant freedom, and we were pretty attached to that commodity by this time. We could always take to the hills and possibly elude pursuit for months while we were being man-hunted and tracked down, but we didn’t hind the idea of being dogged by the Japs in the wooded rising land very appealing. …
“The menacing chug-chug outside came to us in greatly increased volume. We realized that probably there were a whole string of boats out there.”
[Narrator] And there were indeed multiple boats, they turned into the northern side of the bay and began heading inland toward Morrill and his crew. In turn, Morrill put men with rifles all along the beach. And then – the patrol boats turned and left through the southern side of the bay and disappeared to the south.
[Morrill] “Either they had been after us and had been baffled by the channel, in which case they would be waiting for us to stick our heads out, or else they were just making a routine inspection of all the coves and didn’t know we existed.
“Whichever it was, we weren’t going to stay there another minute. … No matter how fast we went, the pressure of the Japs drove us faster. … All hands piled into the boat, and we got going. … We finally pushed off at a slow speed, with the motor throttled down to reduce the noise, and felt our way to the channel. … We were all pretty much on edge with the knowledge that we might find Japs waiting to jump on us outside.
“We headed out to sea, due east, away from the coasting a gentle rain for which we were thankful since it cut down visibility. Once clear we kicked the engine wide open. We figured the Jap air- and ship-patrol lanes would only cover an area fifty miles off the coast of Mindanao and once outside this fifty-mile area our chances would be better.”
[Narrator] That was the night of May 18. For the next 4 days, they were at sea, finally passing the southern tip of Mindanao Island, meaning they were finally away from the Philippines. Life in a small boat stuffed with 18 men, isn’t all that exciting. The self-appointed builders continued working on the decking. But soon, everyone got restless. They started making unrealistic plans about storming and capturing a larger Japanese boat and heading for Australia. Whether the men were actually serious about this endeavor, Morrill put the kybosh on that thinking.
On May 22, they began seeing the northern middle portion of the Dutch East Indies (again, that’s present-day Indonesia). The morning of May 23, they landed on a small island, populated by natives – and these natives were of the more primitive kind. Despite the language barrier, the crew traded clothing for food and continued onward that evening.
During that night, they crossed the equator. They were now 1,370 miles and 18 days away from Corregidor.
The next 3 days were spent at sea, travelling down the western side of New Guinea and navigating through the various islands of the East Indies while taking advantage of the fair weather and strong current pushing them south.
By the morning of May 27, the engine was again having difficulties and stopped for the day on a deserted island so the engineers could work on it. It died when they got to the rocky, boulder-strewn shore – which was 1,650 miles from Corregidor. The engineers got to work on what Morrill thought was a fruitless cause – he was certain they’d need to pull out the sail and continue that way. Since he and only 1 other crewman knew how to work the sail, it’d be up to the two of them to navigate the rest of the way.
Nothing the engineers tried was working to fix the motor. As the day progressed to afternoon, the wind picked up and they could see bad weather rolling in. Then a crew member called out:
[Crew] “I see something coming and I don’t like it.”
[Morrill] “Looking at the horizon to the northwest we saw the heads of about twenty men coming over the ocean’s rim. We watched them spellbound. Presently we saw the boat. It was a large war canoe. We had seen boats like it in the movies but had never expected to see anything like it outside of a double feature. When they came closer, we could see black faces painted with white streaks and bones stuck through the cartilage of their noses. In the rear of the boat, bending back and forth like the coxswain in a racing shell, was a much smaller man who might easily be a Jap, and this might be a local Jap patrol board, manned by natives.”
[Head] “Let me handle this, Captain. I’ll talk ‘em out of it somehow,”
[Narrator] Said Pharmacists Mate Head, the now de facto doctor, diplomat, and interpreter for the group. He had a way of communicating with people who didn’t speak English or Tagalog using a kind of self-made sign language.
While the rest of the crew sat ready to fire their guns as needed, Head motioned the boat over to them. Turns out the coxswain was a small native, not Japanese.
[Head] “I’m trying to get them to take me over to Teoor,”
[Narrator] Head explained to Morrill. Teoor was a village on a nearby island, that the crew had avoided earlier. But the crewmen had a battery-powered compass and the battery had died. Head was trying to find a new battery. But Morrill was having none of his idea to get into the native’s boat.
[Morrill] “’If you get into that boat with those head-hunters, you may never come back,’ I warned him.
“He said it was our only chance. ‘All-right,’ I told him, ‘But take Swisher with you and both of you take pistols and plenty of ammunition and don’t let them sneak up behind you.”
“Head got into the stern of the boat and Swisher got into the bow, so that they faced each other. The little coxswain started a chant with a regular cadence and the rowers all chanted back. Pretty soon they were out of sight. We felt pretty low about seeing them go. If we did have to fall back on sails, we’d never be able to beat our way over to Teoor to pick them up. And they’d have to stay there.”
[Narrator] Now, I have no idea if these natives were indeed cannibals or headhunters, but the crew members obviously thought so. By this time, it was nightfall and the engine wasn’t anywhere near working again. So, the remaining men turned in for the night.
[Morrill] “Somebody got the bright idea of making cigarettes out of coffee, and the smokers among us tried it. It stank like low-grade opium. It was bitter and bit the tongue.”

[Narrator] The men on the boat had, so far in the trip, eaten very well – to the point that they were gaining back weight they’d lost due to limited rations while on Corregidor. Natives at most every stop gave them food, and they didn’t want for protein or fruits.
The next morning, one of the engineers had a brainwave about the engine. They brought the boat closer to shore and set to work on it. It took some time, failure and frustration, but by mid-morning the engine came to life. At the same time, Head and the other crewman Swisher arrived back at the deserted island.
They set sail and next morning, May 28, the boat arrived at a settlement on another small island.
[Morrill] “We approached the beach, casting a speculative eye on the native luggers anchored there. They were high in the bow and the stern and built like the boats used in the middle ages.
“White flags went up along the beach and on the largest luggar, but as we coasted on down, looking for a channel into shore, the white flag on the luggar was hauled down and a Jap flag was hoisted. Looking through the glasses, we could see that the men on her deck were all natives, and we figured there was a Jap captain hiding down below somewhere. The men brought out the guns, and keeping our barricaded side toward the lugger we eased in toward it. The Jap flag came down then, and we realized her crew was trying out all the flags they had, to make sure they showed the right one. Having run out of flags, they abandoned the lugger in a panic and rowed ashore, so we rowed ashore.”
[Narrator] OK, now I find this little interlude very interesting – because I honestly haven’t ever thought much about the secluded natives on islands during WW2. Just imagine them raising and lowering flags in an attempt to not be bothered by the various combatants in this raging world war – that had absolutely nothing to do with them. It’s a very interesting intersection of the mid-twentieth century with a more primitive culture.
Well, once ashore, the doctor made his way to make friends with the natives and discovered an English-speaking school teacher and brought him over to talk with Morrill.
[Morrill] “My first question to him was, ‘What do you know about the Japs?”
“He said he had a small receiver set run by batteries and had heard all the news on his radio and knew just where the Japs were. ‘Now they have all of New Guinea, all of the Solomon Islands, all of New Zealand, and all of Tasmania. The are fighting in southern Australia.’
“We made him verify it on his schoolbook map. He showed us where he thought the fighting was down by Melbourne.
“’What language did you hear all of this news broadcast in?’ we asked.
“’Malay and English.’
“We knew that what he had heard was probably Japanese propaganda, but even though we told ourselves it was all a pack of lies, it planted a worrisome seed of doubt as to what we would find when we arrived in Australia.”
[Narrator] Leaving that afternoon, they “smashed our way through heavy seas,” until they reached quiet water between two islands with extensive coral reefs surrounding them. The dropped anchor for the night, then started out again around noon on May 29.
They soon drew close to the island of Taam.
[Morrill] “What we saw when we drew near Taam was puzzling at first then incredible. Time rolled back to the crusades, and a Mohammedan world with glistening mosques, minarets, and towers came over the horizon. Next the purple and maroon sails of dozens of good-sized vessels appeared. … Next the town itself swam up into view, and last of all, the people, wearing colorful costumes. … They came out in small boats in droves, trying to poke their long-beaked noses into our business.
“We let one or two of the leaders come aboard. They made motions like salaam bringing their hands down in front of their faces. We salaamed right back at them, but soon found out what they were doing wasn’t salaam at all. They were motioning us to go away. They pointed down at the boat, then off in the distance, and kept saying “Longeur,” the name of a nearby island. … We explained to them in sign language we needed to fix the propeller and were going to take the boat into the beach, indicating we planned to do it tomorrow when the sun came up.
“We had our dinner and turned in, sleeping with our guns at our sides to make sure they didn’t sneak back on us.”
[Narrator] It was not a comfortable night for the men, or the island’s inhabitants. The elders tried to talk the men into leave, but when that didn’t work, the town’s inhabitants crowded around the boat, picking up and inspecting everything in it or coming up and inspecting every piece of food the crewmen tried to eat. The next morning the crew’s engineers were able to fix the propeller, and when high water came at 11 am, they were gone with the tide.
[Morrill] “As we left, the [villagers] went into paroxysms of delight, laughing, howling, waving their arms, and jumping up and down like whirling dervishes. Just for the hell of it, we pretended we were coming back, and their faces dropped a mile.
“Dutchmen we met later told us that the place was the religious center for all Mohammedans in that part of the world.”
[Narrator] It was now May 30, and the crew sailed right into high waves and blustery winds. Then, around 6 pm, a storm hit with blinding rain.
[Morrill] “This was our worst night at sea. … Try as he would, Taylor couldn’t’ keep the boat from batting hell out of its bottom on the waves. Cross-waves hit us and rolled big green ones over the engine cockpit, but by slowing down the ending and being careful with eh tiller, we managed to keep the boat from pounding her brains out. …
“It was impossible to see anything with the wind ripping the crests off the high rollers and throwing them into our faces. The rain came in squalls lasting about 15 minutes each and while it lasted it was like standing in a … locker-room type of shower from which the jets burst in almost solid water. During the rain squalls, the waves smoothed out and up would go our hopes for calmer weather, but after the squalls, the wind howled again and the waves built up, higher and higher, until we were taking green ones aboard with a thud and the crew went back to their bailing….
“The crew didn’t know anything about small boats. Haley and I were the only ones who knew what the sea could do when it had the bit in its teeth. The men back in the engine pit were wide open to the elements and every wave that went over us filled their nostrils and throats, strangling them. We were lucky we had a diesel [engine]. No gas motor could have stood that perpetual ducking, A gas job would have shorted and sputtered and quit… But out diesel ran just as well under water as above.
“We stood there waiting for a low one in which we could turn. … Haley and I picked out a good one, swung her hard over, and then we were in the trough between hills of black glass cradling us for the kills. We speeded up the engine; she answered the tiller like a lady and we were still afloat.
“We weren’t taking any green ones now and the crew bailed all the water out and went back to sleep. … I looked down at the others sleeping there in a wet, tired, unconcerned pile, and envied them. As long as the boat floated that was all they cared about. They were spared the wear and tear of knowing what could happen, with a mistake of a fraction of an inch in handling the tiller or hitting a wave a hand’s breadth the wrong way. “
[Narrator] The next morning, so we’re on May 31, now, they found shelter in a cove on the leeward side of an island. (That’s the side of an island that faces away from the prevailing wind and is protected from the wind by hills or mountains.) The weather here was calm, peaceful – a tropical paradise.
They landed and rested the day, and a crewmember named Binkley created an American flag they could use when they neared Australia (which was only about 400 miles away now).
[Morrill] “He began with a while oblong made of bits of white skivvies all sewed together. … He cut up blue dungarees for the blue field. … [He used] a red antiseptic fluid … as a dye. … He [took] a shortcut to get his stars. Rather than cut them out and sew them on (which would have taken days), he had made holes though the blue material in the shape of stars and allowed the white to show through.”
[Narrator] They decided where to land in Australia – Darwin, on the north central coast – and each dreamed the food he’d eat when they got there. Beer, steaks, and milkshakes were first on most men’s lists. And if, when they got to Australia, they found that the Japanese had captured some areas, well,
[Morrill] “We wouldn’t give ourselves up. We would seize a boat bigger than ours, one we could go across the Pacific in, if we had to.”
[Narrator] The group left the island around 2 am on June 2, sailed down the coast, and eventually into open water. The waves were choppy, but nowhere near as rough as the few nights before. They remained at sea the next day and landed at the mouth of a channel between two, medium sized northern Australia islands on the evening of June 4. They were now – they hoped – in friendly Allied territory.
At sunup, they began journeying through the straight, looking for signs of Japanese occupation. About an hour into their day’s journey, they rounded a corner and saw a small village and decided to paddle for shore:
[Morrill] “A group of very black, tall, bearded men, painted all the colors of the rainbow, came down to meet us. … A white man with along black beard cut square across the bottom, and wearing a pair of khaki shorts, walked down the path from the hill. When he came close enough I yelled, “Hello, there,” and a twanging [Australian] voice came back, “Hello there, Yanks.” …
“What place is this?” we asked.
“It’s Melville Islands, Australia,” he replied. … “Where do you hail from?” …
"Corregidor," we told him.
“You had quite a trip of it, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, quite a little trip,” we agreed.
“We asked him how the war was going. “The Japs came over here a while back, but your Kittyhawks chased them and knocked them all down,” he told us.
[Narrator] Morrill and his men now knew they’d successfully, and against all odds, navigated their way to Australia and the Japanese weren’t waiting for them in Darwin. The bearded white man was a monk who ran a Jesuit mission there, and he hosted them for the day, giving them real beds to sleep in – that, due to their comfortableness, the men couldn’t actually fall asleep in. They’d become so used to the ground and boat and couldn’t recall the last time they’d slept in real beds.
In the afternoon the 18 men continued their journey, sailing through the rest of the straight, across 50 miles of open water – and finally landed in Darwin, Australia, the morning of May 6, 1942 – 1 month to the day that they left Corregidor. In total, they’d spent 30 days on their journey, come some 2,100 miles in an open 36-foot boat.
[Morrill] “When we crawled out of our boat, the Aussies grabbed us and took us into their inquisition room for questioning, figuring we looked like suspicious characters. I don’t blame them.”
[Narrator] Once satisfied the men weren’t a threat, a US Army Air Corps Colonel housed the men at his headquarters, giving them food, lodging, and clothing. Two days later the men were flown to Adelaide on Australia’s southern coast, and then to Melbourne. While there, the hungry men ate a restaurant out of food, when they ordered everything off the menu. The waitress eyed them with her hands on her hips,
[Waitress] “Listen, I don’t mind lugging the stuff in here if you’re going to eat it all, and not leave half of it for me to take back to the kitchen.”
[Narrator] The men responded:
[Morrill] “You bring it out, sister, and leave the rest to us.”
[Narrator] Good as their word, they cleaned their plates and even asked for more.
A week later, 13 of the men were ordered back into active duty. A few days after that, Morrill and 3 others boarded an Army transport ship and arrived in southern Florida 40 days later.

As I researched this story, I realized a couple of things: First, the success of this escape was largely due to the naval and sailing know-how of Morrill and 2-3 other of his crew members. I do not believe a non-naval or sea-going person could have navigated their way through the tides, islands, open sea, and other issues using the primitive tools they had in their possession. It just really hit home that these men’s experience and expertise is what made them successful.
Also, I’ve condensed Morrill’s 200+ page book into a 17-page script. So obviously I had to leave out a lot of details. But if this story is interesting to you, I highly recommend reading South from Corregidor. It’s easy and interesting to read, like an adventure story, and available on Amazon Kindle. I’ll add a link in the show description.

His crew members always credited Morrill for their successful escape. While he shared credit for the success with all the boat’s men, the crew members put it all on his shoulders. The man who co-wrote South from Corregidor with Morrill wrote of speaking with 3 crew members:
[Writer] “I talked to each of the three separately, but invariably, in spite of efforts to get them to talk about themselves, they brought the conversation back to Morrill. The gist of their remarks was, ‘There is nobody like him – you ought to see him in action when the chips are down – he made us feel like we were all working together – he’s a man.’ You could see that all of them were hoping to serve under him again and would drop whatever they happened to be doing if that opportunity ever came.”

After the War & Legacy
[Narrator] Within months of returning to the US, Morrill was back to active duty, readying a ship for action. But first, he co-wrote a memoir of the Quail crew’s impossible journey from Corregidor, finishing the day after Christmas, 1942.
By that time, all the men were assigned to various ships and naval duties throughout the world. 3 of the men had even survived a ship sinking in August 1942 (Just 10 weeks after arriving with Morrill in Darwin).
Two men, including Head, the boat’s doctor, and Binkely, the flag maker, were on the Ship USS Jarvis during the Guadal Canal campaign in August 1942. The ship survived a torpedoing, but Head was transferred to another ship due to severe burns. Meanwhile Binkley remained on the Jarvis, which returned to Australia for repairs, except it was sunk by Japanese aircraft enroute and all hands, including Binkley, were lost.
John Morrill soon became Navigation Officer of a cruiser.
[Morrill] “However, compared to where I had been, it was dull and humdrum duty. It was not enough! I asked for transfer to the Navy’s newly created Amphibious Forces, where rumor had it, there was combat action.”
In November 1943, he assumed command of a landing craft Infantry. He retired as a Rear Admiral in 1955, and passed away in 1997, age 94.
In 1985, surviving Quail men gathered for a reunion, where they received a letter from President Ronald Reagan:
[Reagan] “It is truly an honor for me to send warm greetings to the men of the USS Quail who heroically escaped from Corregidor in 1942. …
“As the only naval group to escape from Corregidor after the surrender, you gave renewed hope to our country’s cause in the Pacific during some of the most difficult days for the Allied forces in that theater of WW2. Your odyssey of 31 days and 2,100 miles almost seems like something out of legend, but I and so many others know how very real that experience was for you and what truly brave men you are.”
“You and your departed comrades are worthy of the greatest respect.”

[Narrator] While Morrill and his crew were making their way south from Corregidor, the men captured on that island, including my own great-grandfather – were taken to a small Corregidor cove – little food, next to no water, no sun protection, and the heavy rainy season beating down on them.
IT would become their first taste of POW life – and it’d didn’t sit well.

So be sure to hit the follow button because there will be more on that next time.
This is Left Behind.

Outro
Thanks for listening! You can find pictures, maps, and sources about John Morrill and the USS Quail’s stories on the Left Behind Facebook page and website and on Instagram @leftbehindpodcast. The links are in the show description. If you’d like to know more about the escape to Australia, I suggest the book South from Corregidor, by John H. Morrill.
If you enjoy this podcast, please subscribe so you’ll know when I drop a new episode and leave a review wherever you listen to podcasts.
Left Behind is researched, written, and produced by me, Anastasia Harman.
- Voice overs by: Tyler Harman
- Dramatizations are based on historical research, although some creative liberty is taken with dialogue.
And remember to subscribe to left behind because you won't want to miss the next POW story – which is, finally, after 49 Left Behind episodes, about the man who inspired the entire project – my great-grandfather Alma Salm.

Sources
Lt. Cmdr. John Morrill, USN, South from Corregidor: The Complete Story, with new introduction, (North Charleston, South Carolina: CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform, 2013), originally published 1943
“The First Ships of Operation Neptune,” National WWII Museum, 4 June 2021, https://www.nationalww2museum.org/war/articles/d-day-minesweepers, accessed 26 February 2024.