#34. Relentless Hope: A Story of Love, Faith, and Survival

Episode 34 – Chet & Grace Britt – Episode Transcript

[Narrator] A 26-year-old woman with dark, wavy, shoulder-length hair looked out to the busy pier where a passenger ship anchored, with its black hull and red smokestack gleaming in the early May sunshine.
All around her, 1,000 women and children mingled with American servicemen -- hugging, kissing, and crying – as they said their goodbyes on Manila’s Pier 7.
Her husband, standing in front of her, saw the anxious look on her oval-shaped face, her eyes wide and dark eyebrow lifted in concern. The captivating smile that made her cheeks into apples was nowhere to be seen.
[Chet] “It’ll be alright, Hon. It’s just a precaution, we probably won’t be seeing action here for a long while.”
[Narrator] Grace Britt looked up into her husband’s eyes. Almost a head taller than her, Chet Britt stood at 6’3” with his hair cut short and parted on the left, neat and trim like any good Army officer. He had a square face and an almost mischievous glint in his eyes when he smiled.
But just like his wife, Chet Britt wasn’t smiling. And Grace wondered if he truly believed all he said.
[Grace] “I just don’t want to leave you. And what about the baby? You won’t be with me when he comes.”
[Narrator] Grace said.
Chet sighed as he watched his wife touch her belly, at that moment barely showing that she was 5 months along. Missing their child’s birth was the hardest part.
[Chet] “Hey,”
[Narrator] he said, gently taking his wife by the shoulders and bending down to look in her eyes.
[Chet] “My orders were 18 months in The Philippines. We’ve been here 6, so I’ll be home in a year. That’s not so long. Plus you’ll have your mothers, and my mother, and your sisters. Everything will be okay. ‘We can do all things through God.’”
[Narrator] She smiled a little as he quoted the Bible. He was right, God would strengthen her. Just then the ship’s horn blew. Grace threw herself into Chet’s arms, the tears coming fast.
[Chet] “Every time I look at the big Philippine moon, I’ll think of you – back home and under that same moon,”
[Narrator] he whispered.
The horn blew again, and they separated. Reluctantly, Grace joined the throng of women and children heading down the pier to the large transport ship. She kept her eyes on Chet as she slowly climbed the gangway, until the crowds on the ship and the crowd on the dock made it impossible for her to see him any longer.
All she could do is hope that she would one day see him again.
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 appreciate this podcast and believe it’s important for people to know this relatively unknown part of WW2 history, please consider sharing it with a friend. Word of mouth is the main way people find new podcasts, and by sharing, you’re helping to keep these important stories alive.
The last several episodes have been intense as we’ve focused on experiences of the Bataan Death March and Camp O’Donnell. Today’s episode shifts gears a bit, focusing on how the bonds of love and faith can pull someone through the most awful of circumstances.
I’ve relied on two main sources to tell this episode: A 2021 biography of Grace and Chet Britt, written by their son David Britt, titled “Relentless Hope: A True Story of War and Survival.” I was also able to speak with David Britt a couple months ago.
He is a Vietnam-era veteran and retired Air Force Lt. Colonel. He and John Duresky spent 2 years researching and writing about Chet’s wartime experiences. Their research efforts even uncovered previously unknown details and video of the Oryoku Maru hell ship disaster.
One last note: So far we’ve talked about the war on Bataan Peninsula as well as hinted at the battle for Corregidor Island. Those were the 2 main US strongholds on/near Luzon, The Philippines largest island. However, several smaller island forts near Manila played parts in the early Philippine Battle. And we’ll discuss one of those today—Ft. Wint on Grance Island.
Let’s jump in.

POW’s Life Story
Before the War
[Narrator] Chester K. Britt (Chet to his family and friends), was born June 13, 1915, in La Crosse, Wisconsin, on the banks of the Mississippi River, to Archibald and Hazel Britt. Archibald was a railroad engineer, and Hazel stayed at home with Chet and his 6 younger siblings. The family remained in La Crosse for all of Chet’s growing up years.
In June 1919, mere days after his 4th birthday, Chet was picking clovers with a couple of friends when he came across a downed telephone wire. A neighbor nearby heard screams and cries and came running, to find young Chet holding on to the wire. Normally, telephone wires do not carry electricity, but this one had fallen over a streetcar wire, which did carry electricity, which passed through the telephone wire. Chet suffered severe burns on his hands and legs, but despite the near electrocution, the doctor said he would survive.
As a young teenager, he joined a local Boy Scout Troop and became its head bugler. He also enjoyed building gliders – both model and human sized.
At one point, he decided to build a real glider – one he could ride in. Once the craft was completed, Chet and his brothers hauled the glider to the top of Grandad Bluff, which overlooks La Crosse. He planned to launch the craft and glide down to the country club fairway below him. That is, if the contraption actually caught wind and glided…and didn’t crash down the cliffside onto jagged rocks below. Chet’s father, however, hearing of the panned expedition, drove to the bluff’s top, and stopped the intended flight.
While his flight hopes were perhaps dashed, Chet’s sailing hopes were still afloat when he joined the Boy Scouts Sea Scouts and learned to sail a whaling ship on a nearby lake.
But the young man’s high school days weren’t marked only by adventures. No, his younger sister had a friend named Grace Runice, who thought Chet was handsome. Ever the obliging friend, Chet’s sister introduced Grace to Chet. And the two became close friends.

Grace Rubena Runice was just a few months younger than Chet, although they were a grade apart in school. She was born in September 1915 in Ferryville, Wisconsin, just 36 miles/58 km, down the mighty Mississippi from La Crosse.
She was the fourth child born to Martin and Hilma Runice, both of whom were Wisconsin natives with Norwegian immigrant parents. Martin worked as a store clerk and around the time of Grace’s birth ran for Ferryville sheriff. But by early summer 1917, he had gone west to Wyoming to start a ranch, while his family remained behind in Wisconsin.
In July 1917, Martin wounded his finger, which became infected, and he died two days later – on July 22. He left behind 3 children aged 10 a younger and his 38-year-old wife who was around 7 months pregnant with their 4th child.
By the time Grace was 14 years old, she and her family had moved to La Crosse, Wisconsin -- Chet’s hometown. Her mother Hilma ran a small boarding house, and Grace’s elder sister and brother worked at an auto-parts factory and for the railroad, respectively. Since the Runice’s were a single-parent family in the early days of the Great Depression, I wonder if Grace’s two older siblings had to leave school early to support the family. Her eldest sister completed only 2 years of high school, and her brother completed 3.
Grace, however, was able to remain at Logan High School all four years, which is where she met Chet Britt. They were close friends, and remained so even after he graduated high school in early 1933. (Grace graduated a year later.)

After graduating high school, Chet attended La Crosse State Teachers College (today the University of Wisconsin—La Crosse). A faith-filled young man, he also taught Sunday School during these post-high school years.
A natural mathematician, Chet excelled in college and was eventually nominated for and accepted into the United States Military Academy (commonly known as West Point) in New York. The adventurous young aviator and sailor now had his sights set on the Army. 21-year-old Chet started his pleb year in September 1936. He graduated on June 11, 1940, with the rank of 2nd Lieutenant.
Throughout these 4 years at West Point, Chet and Grace constantly wrote to each other, their friendship blossoming into something more. The two married the day after his graduation in the West Point Cadet Chapel. They enjoyed a month furlough, before Chet reported for his first active-duty assignment—an intensive 2-week Coast Artillery Corps officer training in Virginia.
And then – he was assigned to Corregidor Island in The Philippines.
On September 12, 1940, 3 months after Chet’s graduation and the couple’s marriage, Chet and Grace set sail from New York City. They were young, in love, and bound for a brand-new adventure.

After 6 weeks at sea, the newlywed couple arrived in Manila on November 1, and were immediately shuttled to Corregidor, the island fortress that guarded the entrance to Manila Bay.
The island was home to the US Army’s Fort Mills, which became a vital artillery protection point for Manila and Manila Bay. And Coastal Artillery – which Lt. Chester Britt was part of – was the focus of the Army forces on the island.
The young couple set up their home in a large duplex in the officer’s area of the island. It wasn’t all that bad of a set up. The officer’s area boasted a movie theater and a golf course. And when Chet was off duty, he and Grace enjoyed softball, archery, and strolls around the lush landscape. The couple even had their car shipped over.
But…their time on Corregidor was short. The next month, so December 1940, the Army, realizing that now-1st Lt Britt’s mathematic skills were needed elsewhere, and he was transferred to the 92nd Coast Artillery and sent to yet another island.
The 92nd was a Philippine Scouts unit. As I’ve mentioned in previous episodes, the Philippine Scouts were highly trained US Army units made up mainly of enlisted and non-com Filipino servicemen with American officers. Lt. Britt taught math to Filipino servicemen undergoing artillery training.
Chet was assigned to Ft. Wint on Grande Island in Subic Bay. Subic Bay sits on Bataan Peninsula’s northwestern side. Grande Island is situated at the bay’s mouth. Not 5 miles northeast of Grande Island, and situated on Bataan Peninsula’s very northwestern edge, was Olongapo Navy Yard. Thus, Grande Island’s Ft. Wint offered protection for Subic Bay and Olongapo. And despite being only about 35 miles/56 km northeast of Corregidor Island, it was nearly a world apart.
Where Corregidor was busy and bustling with all sorts of accommodations, Grande Island was quiet. The island is roughly square in shape and is less than half a mile wide in either direction. Compared with the hills and cliffs of Bataan and Corregidor, the Grande Island is fairly flat, with the northeastern side coming down to meet the water.
The Britt’s made their home in the small grouping of officer’s quarters on the island’s north shore. They enjoyed breathtaking views of the Bataan Peninsula. Grace furnished the home, which was close enough to their neighbors to see through their screens, with the wicker furniture the couple had just purchased on Corregidor.
Life on the island was laid back, and Grace and Chet became friends with other newly married officers and their wives. When the husbands were off duty, they enjoyed sailing in Subic Bay, playing cards, and other activities. And in spring 1941, Chet and Grace learned they were expecting their first child.

But, as was the case for Chet and Grace’s first year of marriage, change was eminent and the quiet life on Grande Island wouldn’t last. The Army decided to evacuate all servicemen’s wives and children back to the United States. Military tensions with Japan were increasing, as was the US military’s presence in The Philippines. Hostilities with Japan now seemed a likely event, and, for their own safety, family members were evacuated home. Grace packed their belongings, including their wicker furniture, which were shipped home to La Crosse, Wisconsin.
Grace bid her husband of 11 months goodbye and sailed from Manila on May 5, 1941. The 6-week voyage took her across the Pacific, through the Panama Canal, and up the Atlantic seaboard to New York City. She was alone, 5 months pregnant, and sailing away from her husband who remained behind on an island that could be a war zone in the not-too-distant future.

The relaxed atmosphere of Grande Island changed as Lt. Britt and the 92nd Coast Artillery began preparing for war. He found that his Filipino students had poor math skills, which isn’t surprising since many of them were raised on farms and hadn’t had the same opportunities for education as in the United States. He struggled to teach them the algorithms and trigonometry that would be so vital in their artillery calculations.
Beyond the classroom, the men at Ft. Wint dug foxholes, prepared fighting positions, and moved weapons, food, and medicine to bunkers. Chet himself took on several roles at Ft. Wint. In that 2021 biography of his father, Dave Britt wrote:
[Dave Quote] “He was given several primary and additional duties: battalion adjutant, headquarters company commander, Battery D commander, and battalion communications and transportation officer. One paycheck, but many responsibilities and duties.”
[Narrator] In October 1941, word arrived that Grace had given birth to a healthy son – Chester K Britt Jr. Delighted by the news that he was a father, he also worried about a coming war and whether he’d survive to see his child or his wife.
And then, barely 2 months later, war finally arrived.

During the War
[Narrator] Despite its place at the entrance to Subic Bay and being that bay’s only real protection (aside from mines that dotted the waters into the bay), Grande Island’s Ft. Wint played practically no part in protecting The Philippines. It was primarily a training facility, and their armament was woefully small – 8 large artillery guns and hardly enough ammo to last the first few days of war. Once that was gone, they had no hope for resupply.
Dave Britt wrote:
[Dave quote] “The bombardment of Ft. Wint was reported to have been fierce by intermittent, with the Japanses attacking infrastructure, specifically electricity and water. The after-action report for forces on Grande Island reported seeing a Japanese landing craft with 30 soldiers attempting to land in early December. But Lt. Britt and his fellow artillery men had other plans. They destroyed the approaching boat and watched it sink into the bay. Not a single Japanese soldier set foot on the island.”
[Narrator] On December 24, 1941, Ft Wint was ordered evacuated – which included moving their large mobile artillery guns to Bataan and Corregidor. Lt. Chet Britt was put in charge of the evacuation. The smaller anti-aircraft guns were sent to Corregidor, but the 4 heavy 155mm artillery guns were loaded on to barges for the 2-mile trip to Olongapo Navy Yard. Once there, Britt and his men used tractors to pull the guns into Bataan, where they would support Filipino infantry.
But moving the large guns into position on Bataan was no easy task. Bataan itself is a hilly, jungle covered area, and mountains divide the peninsula lengthwise down the middle.
The coastal roads were primitive (especially on the western side where Britt and his men had landed the guns). Chances were high that on the roads closest to Olongapo, Britt and his men could encounter enemy soldiers and fire.
Dave Britt wrote:
[Dave Quote] “The heaver 155mm artillery guns …were moved nearly 80 miles in a 24-hour period, across the water then up increasingly steep grades to their firing positions. Under constant pressure to move guns, men, and materials, Lt. Britt’s plan needed to remain flexible to respond to any Japanese attack, not knowing when or where it would occur. For his actions that night, Lt. Britt later received the Legion of Merit, the third highest military honor at the time.”

[Narrator] As it turns out, though, evacuating Ft. Wint was a tactical mistake – because it gave Japanese forces early, uncontested access to northwestern Bataan. Historians agree that the small island fort likely couldn’t have been defended for very long, but the delay in Japanese occupation could have made important differences for fighting on Bataan.
But I’m getting a little ahead of myself. Let’s go back a bit.
First off, no one seems to know exactly who ordered the island’s evacuation. One writer even called the order “one of the minor mysteries of the war.” Odds are that the island was ordered evacuated by the commander of the US Army’s Northern Luzon Forces. I won’t go into all the nitty gritty, but during the withdrawal to Bataan, the US Army was divided into various forces. Apparently, the commander’s area of authority wasn’t clear. He received orders for all US and Filipino forces to withdraw south of the main battle position on Bataan. In his mind, that meant even the units on Grande Island, which was technically north of the battle position on Bataan. When he learned that the units on the island were not falling back, he ordered the island evacuated.
This order, however, was in direct opposition to MacArthur’s main plan, such as it was. And in fact, the first notion MacArthur’s people had that Grande Island had been evacuated was when members of the Ft. Wint garrison arrived on Corregidor.
Thus, the evacuation on Ft. Wint allowed Japan unfettered, early access to Subic Bay and the Olongapo Navy Yard, which became a vital supply line for the Japanese forces on Bataan. Historian Louis Morton wrote:
[Morton] “While the [ongoing] support or retention of Fort Wint was probably impossible …, its evacuation without a struggle gave the Japanese an important objective at no cost. An American garrison on Grande Island, even if it was ultimately lost, might well have paid substantial dividends and certainly would have given the Japanese many uncomfortable moments. From Fort Wint the Americans with their large guns could have disputed Japanese control of the bay and of Olongapo, which later became an important enemy supply base, and would have constituted a threat to the flank of any Japanese.”

[Narrator] The day after moving the guns to Bataan, Lt. Britt was assigned to the 301st Field Artillery and became a battery commander, overseeing those 155mm guns. And that the Christmas Eve gun movement wouldn’t be the last time he moved the guns down the Bataan Peninsula.
Over the next three months, he’d oversee their southward movement until April 9 when the guns were destroyed, and Chet and his comrades surrendered to Japanese forces at Mariveles at the southern tip of the peninsula.
And with that, Lt. Chester Britt was now a prisoner of war.

But back home in La Crosse, Wisconsin, Grace Britt didn’t know her husband’s fate. She certainly would have heard the news of Bataan’s fall. But beyond that…she had no word. She would not have known during those spring months of 1942, as she cared for her now 7-month-old son, that her husband endured the horrendous war crime that would come to be known as the Bataan Death March. Or that he, with the help of a close group of friends, survived 6 weeks at the sick-infested Camp O’Donnell where that march ended, before entering Cabanatuan, which was on the same island as Bataan.
Her cards and letters attempting to determine Chet’s fate were left unanswered, some lost, some returned.
Grace’s older brother joined the Army and was sent to Europe. Two of Chet’s younger brothers joined as well – one as a Navy pilot, the other as a B-24 tail gunner. Grace, herself, worked at a local manufacturing company, making 20mm brass shell casings for the war. Her mother and Chet’s mother helped watch Chester Jr.
Their son Dave explained:
[Dave quote] “She prayed continuously for Chet’s health and safety. Their love was reciprocal and connected despite the miles separating them. While he was away at West Point, Grace had patiently waited four years for her love toward Chet to be fulfilled. This time, her patience would be tested time and time again as she realized the stark reality of life interrupted by war.
“Waiting to learn of Chet’s fate was excruciating. The Runice and Britt families wrapped their arms around Grace and Chester Jr., supporting them emotionally and spiritually. The combined families felt God was testing them, and strongly believed He answered prayers and kept His promises. Faith gave them hope and comfort in the midst of their despair.”
[Narrator] Finally, in December 1942, Grace received word that her husband was a Prisoner of War. The communication left much to be desired detail wise but at least she knew he was alive.

By the time Grace received this information, Chet was at Davao Penal Colony in the southern Philippine Islands. After 4 months at Cabanatuan, Chet was one of 1,000 POWs selected to for a work detail some 1,000 miles/1,600 km south of Cabanatuan. He would remain at Davao for the next 18 months.
Davao Penal Colony was a farming work camp, where the POWs raised food to feed the Japanese army in the Philippines. Conditions here, at least at the beginning, were somewhat better than they were at the other camps Chet would endure. He had better food – including vegetables – than they’d had at the other camps and even when fighting on Bataan. Plus, the Davao POWs also had more opportunities to scrounge for additional food.
Chet’s son Dave wrote:
[Dave quote] “The POWs smuggled bananas and other vegetables into the camp at the end of each workday. Chet cleverly stashed his food treasures in his hat. Due to his height—6’3”—the guards refused to look up at him. When he was required to bow, he never bowed low enough for them to see the hidden food. The guards suffered from inadequate food as well. As the lowest-ranking conscripts in the Imperial Army, they garnered litter respect or consideration from their superiors in the … military hierarchy.”
[Narrator] But despite conditions being somewhat better than Cabanatuan and other camps, Davao wasn’t a pleasure camp. The POWs received harsh treatment, suffered through ration cuts, and were punished severely for “stealing” food that they farmed.
In June 1944, Lt. Britt and more than 1,200 other Davao POWs were blindfolded and loaded onto to a Japanese transport ship and eventually found himself back at Cabanatuan. After a few months at that camp, in October 1944, Chet was transferred to Manila, along with 1,500 Cabanatuan POWs. After several weeks at a Manila prison, he and 1,618 other POWs were loaded onto the Japanese hellship Oryoku Maru in mid-December 1944 for transportation to Japan.
He didn’t know it then, but what he was about to experience would be the absolute worst thing he’d face during the war. A literal hell on earth.

The Oryoku Maru was a former luxury liner converted to a transport ship. It was designed to carry 843 passengers, but when the ship sailed out of Manila Bay there were nearly 3,500 – Japanese crew, soldiers and civilians as well as the 1,600+ POWs. Those POWs were packed into 3 cargo holds at the ship’s bottom, literally like sardines, sitting crotch to buttocks with legs splayed out in front of them. The tropical temperatures outside were in the 90s, and inside the metal hull the heat reached unbearable heights. The air soon became rancid and the floor sticky and wet with human waste. And then, when the POWs began yelling for water or food or other help – the air hatch was closed because the noise bothered the women and child passengers above.
Shortly after leaving Manila Bay, the ship – unmarked so it offered no clues that there were American POWs on board -- was attacked and disabled by American planes. Still maneuverable, the ship sailed into the Subic Bay and to Olongapo Navy Yard, passing by Ft Wint where Chet and Grace had lived before the war. At 9 am the next morning, American planes returned and renewed the attack. Finally, Japanese officials allowed the POWs to climb out of the holds and escape over the ship’s sides.
[Dave Quote] “Once on deck, [Chet] looked around to get his bearings. Stretching his arms and legs as he worked out the kinks from being confined [in the hold]. … He quickly recognized he was in familiar surroundings and did his best to hide a smile. …
“noticed a pile of life vests, an unexpected stroke of luck. Chet snatched one and put it on before guards could object. He struggled trying to figure out how to fasten it when a Japanese guard rushed toward him, adjusted it properly, and connected the straps in a rare act of humanity by his captors.
“Lt. Brit was an adequate swimmer, but in his current weakened state he wasn’t sure he could make it to shore [at Olongapo]. His life vest secured, he was confident as he leaped off the foundering ship and dropped 30 feet to the water. As the cool water washed over him, he felt invigorated and move alive than he’d felt since he’d first become a POW, some 918 days before.”
[Narrator] When American pilots saw the swimming POWs, they stopped their attack.
Lt. Britt and the 1,305 surviving POWs remained at Olongapo for 4 days, before being transported by truck and train some 153 miles/247 km north to a town called San Fernando on island’s northern shore. Here they were taken to a beach, where they remained with litte shelter under the relentless sun for a couple of days. They were given small rations of food and water.
[Dave Quote] “As Lt. Britt ate the evening meal of one teaspoon of raw rice and sipped his half cup of water, he watched the sun dip below the horizon... Watching the last slivers of light, he wondered how long he would spend on the beach and how long it would be until he held his loving Grace in his arms. His last thought at night, and his first thought upon wakening was of Grace. Always Grace. He constantly prayed for blessings on his family as well as his own protection and survival. His determination to be reunited with his wife and meet for the first time his now 3-year-old son and namesake, consumed every waking moment.”
[Narrator] Later that night, he was one of 1,000 POWs loaded onto the cargo ship Enoura Maru; the remaining POWs boarded the Brazil Maru, and the two ships set sail for Takao, Formosa (in modern-day Taiwan). As they traveled north, the mid-winter air and water grew cold.
The majority of POWs, by this time in their captivity, were clothed only in loin cloths or were completely naked. And where the scarce clothing perhaps helped them stay somewhat cool in the tropical climate, it offered little protection against the increasingly fridged air and water.
Throughout his time on the hell ships – and in the end it would be nearly a 6-week ordeal – Chet kept a journal. In it he kept a record of dates of his friends’ deaths, what and how much he ate, and daily death counts. His son believes he wrote it on scrap paper and kept it hidden in his loin cloth, a place the guards never searched, and later transferred it into a 2” by 4” onion-skin journal.

The two POW transport ships pulled into Takao harbor on New Years Eve 1944. The men from the Brazil Maru were transferred to the Enoura Maru, as they waited for more than 9 days – still in the ship’s holds – in Takao harbor.
[Dave Quote] “When he awoke on January 9, Chet discovered the men lying on either side of him had died during the night. Too weak to move them to the increasing pile of those who had died, he stayed where he was; their bodies provided some protection from the cold breeze flowing into the hatch. About 11 am, he heard the familiar sound of American planes overhead and braced for an attack. …
“He could hear the whistle of bombs getting louder and closer. The ship shook violently as bomb after bomb exploded just above him…
“A he laid on the feces-filled straw – with planes unleashing bursts of fire from their wing-mounted machine guns – Chet heard a soft voice in his head urging him to move. He was so weak he could barely life his arms, but he crawled up and over one of the dead bodies next to him… Just as his body came to rest, Chet could hear bullets impacting the deck and streaking into the hold, whizzing not far from his head.
“When the attack ended, the sun was directly overhead, its rays poured into the hold filling it with bright light. Lt. Britt slowly raised his head, opened his eyes – and saw … a line of bullet holes had pierced the floor where Chet had lain just moments earlier. The voice in his head saved his life. To Chet, it was either the voice of a guardian angel or perhaps the Holy Spirit. He had been struck by shrapnel, but he was alive and said another prayer of thanks.”
[Narrator] All around him, though, men had not been so fortunate. A bomb blew open the deck, killing hundreds of POWs instantly. Wounded and mangled survivors were trapped under wooden and steel beams. It was a sickening, hellish sight. Over the next couple of days, the surviving abled-bodied POWs helped place the bodies in cargo nets, which were lifted out of the hold. The men were eventually buried in a mass grave near Takao. Among the dead was Lt. Willibald Bianchi, who I highlighted in episode 20. That episode includes details about what happened to the bodies removed from the Enoura Maru.
On January 12 – three days after the attack – the survivors were moved to the Brazil Maru. This ship was created for cargo, and the holds were lined with small bays, about 10’ by 15’. 20 men were crammed into each bay and it was impossible to be comfortable. At 6’3”, Chet could either sit with his legs extended or lie down with his knees drawn up to his chest.
The ship left Takao the next day, with the 900 survivors -- wounded, sick, emaciated men who were mostly clinging to life. The temperatures continued to drop, with snow accumulating on the ship’s deck above them. Some men literally froze to death, and POWs died at an average rate of 27 per day.
Chet was lucky enough to have a close circle of friends with him and they became a lifeline for survival – as the most abled among them could help take care of the sick and wounded. Their bodies were emaciated – by this time Chet, a tall man, was down to just 110 pounds – with little fat or muscle. The group huddled together to maintain body heat.
Chet’s son David wrote:
[Dave Quote] “Since becoming a prisoner in April 1942, Chet’s survival had diminished from day to day and hour by hour to minute by minute and second by second. As he sat in the hold – naked and shivering – his measure of survival had been reduced even further. It was now breath by breath. …
“Each time he found himself in a downward spiral, [Chet] thought of Grace, which renewed his determination to survive. Instead of focusing on all the bad things that happened, he concentrated on the positive. First and foremost, he was alive, and he promised himself he’d do everything in his power to stay that way. He may not have been in the best of health, but he had his Grace. He had his family. And he had his faith. They were the touchstones for survival.”
[Narrator] Finally, on January 30, the Brazil Maru reached its destination – Moji, Japan. Chet and only 424 disembarked alive. 74 percent of the 1,619 POWs who left Manila on the Oryoku Maru had not survived the voyage. And many of those survivors would not last long once they reached land; fewer than 270 survivors remained alive 3 months later. That’s a 14% survival rate.

Chet was sent to Fukuoka Camp #3, which had 8” of snow on the ground when he arrived. He was issued shoes, wool pants and shirt, woolen blankets, and hot coffee.
The next day, Chet – still dealing with shrapnel wounds from the attack at Takao, the effects of starvation, and sick with malaria – was admitted to the camp hospital in critical condition. Most of the Brazil Maru survivors at camp were admitted as well. The hospital offered them real beds, 3 meals a day, and medical care – all so they could heal and regain strength enough strength to work at the camps.
Not many days later, Chet’s last remaining friend died, and Chet’s health took a bad turn.
[Dave Quote] “Delirious and unresponsive, doctors feared Chet had only hours to live. Despite the odds against his survival, doctors administered a megadose of sulfa drugs and an infusion of plasma … in one, last-ditch effort to save his life. They figured he’d be dead by morning. He wasn’t. Chet downplayed his near-death casually explaining in a letter to his parents the following August,
[Chet] “I was given up one night in the hospital in Japan February, but my heart kept going and after receiving many injections and some plasma that was available, I gradually became stronger and was able to hang on.”
[Narrator] Chet was released from the hospital in late February. Two months later, he received word of yet another transfer – this time to Mukden, Manchuria – in the northeastern part of present-day China. But this time, they were taken on board passenger ships and trains. Chet was assigned to a camp called Hoten #1.
After about a month in camp, Chet contracted wet Beri Beri – which is caused by a lack of Vitamin B1. His legs, stomach, and feet swelled. His heart had to work harder to pump blood to the extremities. He could hardly take care of himself, but thankfully he had created a group of POWs who helped take care of and obtain food for him while his conditions fluctuated between bad and worse throughout the summer of 1945.
Finally, after 3 years and 4 months in captivity, Chet and the other Hoken #1 POWs were liberated in late August. On August 23, he wrote a two-page letter to Grace.
[Chet] “My dearest Grace, …
“I hope you are well and happy today—and that by now your have heard that I am still alive.
“I guess you perhaps never did know where I was during the war.”
[Narrator] He then gave her a brief account of his time as a POW, including his time on the hell ships:
[Chet] “Of the 1,619 men who began our trip on Dec 13, 44, we have left only about 250. All the others are dead—so you see how fortunate I am. I shudder to look back.
“I must go now, Hon – I can write every day now, and most certainly will.
All my love to you and to little Chesty.”
[Narrator] By September 6, he was back in Manila and in US military hospital. His family received word within a few days. Chet was still in poor health and needed much medical care before he could return home. He was able to write frequently to Grace. These snippets show his eagerness to come home.
[Chet] “I just had to write you.”
“I feel like setting out for home on foot right now.
“The moon is beautiful tonight and the radio playing, ‘Let’s Take the Long Way Home’ – reminding me of those evenings long ago when I escorted you home from the library (the long way).”
“I can’t understand the cause for the long delay. As I’ve told you, my name was submitted some time ago to headquarters to be evacuated. I hate to spend any more time away from you dearest—even a minute.”
“The big moon tonight makes me very lonesome. I want so much to be with you, hon. It’s so very disheartening to be free to come home and no way to get there.”
[Narrator] Finally, on October 3 – after 2 months at the Manila hospital – Chet received word that he was coming home. He wrote to Grace:
[Chet] “I am so excited hon, I can scarlessly believe that I am actually coming back. … Don’t be surprised if I can’t say anything when I first see you, because seeing you again after all that has happened will be the greatest thrill I shall ever have.”
[Narrator] Chet returned to the United States via a 3-dayflight from Manila to San Francisco – with stops in Guam and Hawaii. Once in the states, a couple weeks at Army Hospitals, undergoing various test and care, including mental health treatment for depression, stress, and emotional damage of his ordeal. During this time, he was promoted to captain.
Finally, on Saturday afternoon, October 20, Chet stepped off a train in La Crosse, Wisconsin, and into the arms of Grace and their son and the rest of his family. (I’ve posted a picture of Chet holding his son, by then 4 years old, for the first time.)
“Hello, Daddy,” were Chester Jr.’s shy first words to his father. Chet bent down on his knees and drew his son into his arms.
After the War & Legacy
[Narrator] Now reunited, Chet and Grace remained in La Crosse through summer 1946, when he was declared fit for active duty. Around that same time, Grace gave birth to the couple’s 2nd child, a son named Donald. Chet was send to the White Sands Missile Proving Ground near Ft. Bliss in Texas, while Grace stayed behind for a few months, since she had just given birth. She moved to Ft. Bliss in late 1946.
Chet worked with scientists to develop rockets and was promoted to Major.
The family would remain in El Paso for 3 years, where Grace and Chet could finally enjoy their life together as husband and wife, while raising their 2 children. In Spring 1949, their third son, David, was born. They were a happy family.
But, just a few months after David’s birth, Chet began getting headaches. Ignoring them, he went about his work. But, on December 6, 1949, he collapsed at a Los Angeles train station while away on Amry assignment. He ended up at the military hospital in San Francisco, and Grace quickly rushed to his side.
Doctors determined the 34-year-old had suffered a stroke. The doctors noted that he was a “well-developed and well-nourished male who appeared older than his stated 34 years.” Pictures of Chet before and after the war confirm this, he aged during his 3.5 years as a POW. The diseases, forced labor, and starvation took a lasting toll on his body.
The stroke left him with memory loss and paralization on his left side. He needed help dressing and walked with a cane, shuffling his feet along the floor because he couldn’t life them.
Grace returned to the boys in Texas, attempting to give them as normal a Christmas as possible, as she contemplated raising 3 boys while being caretaker for her husband. She soon moved the boys back to Wisconsin, where both sides of the family could help with them – allowing Grace to spend more time in California with Chet. During his 8 months in the hospital, she made the 3-day train journey many times.
[Dave Quote] “Their war time nightmare was over, but another one was beginning. Seeing [Chet] struggle to walk, to speak, to merely button his shirt—unable to care for himself—plunged her into a valley of dark emotions. Grace’s love for him was tested beyond human endurance while he was a POW, and she was being tested once again. She tried to stay positive and encouraging, especially when she was with him. She saved her tears and worry for when she was alone. An amazingly strong and resilient woman, she was given the prefect name as she was indeed, a woman of unlimited grace.”
[Narrator] In August 1950, and against his own desires, Chet was officially medically retired from the US Army. He returned home to La Crosse and the couple purchased a home a few blocks from his parents. For nearly 3 years, the Britts lived as normal a life as possible. Chet was at home full time; Grace found work as a grocery store clerk. Even though his left arm was permanently paralyzed, Chet painstakingly created airplane and ship models for his sons to play with. They spent time together as a family – both immediate and extended.
But Chet’s condition slowly deteriorated, with pain and headaches becoming more frequent and more intense. On June 12, 1953, his and Grace’s 13th anniversary, Chet was admitted to the hospital with bleeding in his liver, kidneys and spleen. Over the next few weeks his organs failed, one by one. Grace sat for hours by his bedside. On July 6, 1953, he passed away peacefully. He was 38 years old.
His official cause of death was an autoimmune disease with blood clots throughout his body. But in reality, he was yet another casualty of war. His body never fully recovered from the starvation, dehydration, and other atrocities he suffered as a POW.

At 37, Grace was now a widow and single mother. Her situation was not unlike that of her own mother’s. Both women were in their late 30s when widowed after being married less than 15 years and left to raise multiple children not yet in their teens.
Grace received a small pension from the Army and continued to work as a grocery store clerk. Her sister moved in with her. And the extended Runice and Britt families helped as well.
Grace remained in La Crosse, Wisconsin, and, also like her mother, never remarried, focusing instead on raising her and Chet’s three boys. In early May 2003, 87-year-old Grace suffered a heart attack. She passed away the next day with son Donald at her bedside; their two other sons were enroute to their mother’s side.
She was laid to rest next to her beloved husband at the Oak Grove Cemetery in La Crosse. David wrote:
[Dave quote] “After 50 years, Grace and Chet were reunited once again to rest in eternity beside each other. She lived as she had died, with dignity—and grace.”
[Narrator] Today, Chet and Grace’s small family has expended to include more than 30 descendants – including a couple of great-grandchildren. To them, Chet and Grace left a legacy of faith and hope.
Truely, he and Grace were remarkable heroes who, like so many thousands of others, sacrificed so much for their country’s and their family’s future.

While Chet was surrendering to Japanese forces on Bataan peninsula in early April 1942, his artillery friends on Corregidor Island were buckling in for the firefight of their lives.
More on that next time.
This is Left Behind.

Outro
Thanks for listening! You can find pictures, maps, and sources about Chet and Grace’s story 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 their war-time experiences, you can buy David’s book “Relentless Hope: A True Story of War and Survival” on Amazon.
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 and Paul Sutherland
- Special thanks to: David Britt and John Duresky for their time, research, and help with this episode.
- Dramatizations are based on historical research, although some creative liberty is taken with dialogue.
I’ll be back next time with the siege of Corregidor Island.

Sources
Bogart, Charles M, “Subic Bay and Fort Wint—Keys to Manila,” Corregidor Historical Society, online at https://corregidor.org/chs_bogart/bogart1.htm, accessed 9 October 2023.
David Britt, Relentless Hope: A Story of War and Survival (St. Petersburg, Florida: Honor Media, 2021).
“Four Year Old Boy Severely Burned by a Charged Wire,” 21 Jun 1919, page 1, The La Crosse Tribune, La Crosse, Wisconsin, online at Newspapers.com, accessed 9 October 2023.
Grace Rubena Runice entry, U.S., Social Security Applications and Claims Index, 1936-2007,” database online: Ancestry.com, Provo, Utah, 2015, original data: Social Security Applications and Claims, 1936-2007, accessed 10 October 2023.
Hilma Runice family, La Crosse, La Crosse, Wisconsin, “1930 US Federal Census Records,” database online: Ancestry.com, Provo, UT, 2002, original data: United States of America, Bureau of the Census, Fifteenth Census of the United States, 1930, Washington, D.C.: National Archives and Records Administration, 1930, T626, 2,667 rolls, accessed 10 October 2023.
Hilma Runice family, La Crosse, La Crosse, Wisconsin, “1940 United States Federal Census,” database online: Ancestry.com, Provo, Utah, 2012, Original data: United States of America, Bureau of the Census, Sixteenth Census of the United States, 1940, Washington, D.C.: National Archives and Records Administration, 1940, T627, 4,643 roll, accessed 10 October 2023.
Martin W. Runice, Candidate for Sheriff card, uploaded to Ancestry.com by user djambritt1, 10 November 2021, online at Martin Runice (ancestry.com), accessed 10 October 2023.
Martin W Runice (1874-1917) - Find a Grave Memorial, accessed 10 October 2023.
Obituary for Martin O. Runice, clipping uploaded to Ancestry.com by user Rachelle Miller, 16 November 2019, online at Martin O Runice Obituary (ancestry.com), accessed 10 October 2023.
Morton, Louis, “Chapter XVI: The First Battle of Bataan,” in The War in the Pacific: The Fall of The Philippines (Washington, DC: Center of Military History, 1953), online at The Fall of the Philippines-Contents (army.mil), accessed 9 October 2023.