John Lewis Floyd - THE EXPENDABLE: The true story of Patrol Wing 10, PT Boat Squadron 3, and a Navy Corpsman who refused to surrender when the Philippine Islands fell to Japan

Table of Contents

Copyright 2020 John Lewis Floyd

Every effort has been made by the author to ensure that the information contained in this book was accurate as of press time. The author hereby disclaims and does not assume liability for any injury, loss, damage, or disruption caused by errors or omissions ranging from negligence, accident, or any other cause. Readers are encouraged to verify any information contained in this book prior to taking any action.

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johnfloyd@expendable.us

https://expendable.us/

This book is typeset in Minion Pro, Futura Book, and American Typewriter.

Editing, cover and interior design, maps, and production by Wynne Brown LLC. The cover design incorporates a photograph of Charles Beckners uniform shoulder patch worn during the period he was a Chief Petty Officer.

Photographs 1-3, 7, 9-10, and 18-21 are from the private collection of Barbara Beckner Floyd. The remaining are U.S. Navy Archive or National Archive photographs in the public domain.

Trou de Lapin Press
Tucson, Arizona
USA

ISBNs:

978-1-7345421-0-3 (softcover)
978-1-7345421-2-7 (hardcover)
978-1-7345421-1-0 (ebook)
978-1-7345421-3-4 (audiobook)

For Barbara

My best friend and partner in all things good for a half-century.

For John Matthew, Karen Christine, and Elizabeth Anne

I was your father, but you were my teachers.

To the memory of Charles Conrad Beckner, CWO4 USN

and The Greatest Generation

I would say that I am a stubborn, opinionated, somewhat difficult individual with an average sense of humor. I firmly believe that any opinion, even wrong, is better than no opinion at all. It is better to be occasionally wrong than to be right all the time and have a weak, vacillating opinion to adjust to fit the situation in question. My errors are principally errors of commission and not of omission.

Charles Conrad Beckner

Essay on Character Analysis

I am no stranger to death. I have seen it many times in my regular occupation and as a combatant in several campaigns in World War II. It is not a dashing, noble, welcome thing in ninety-nine percent of the cases. Tragic is a better description generally. As for me, dying is not my cup of tea and I intend to postpone it as long as possible.

Charles Conrad Beckner

Essay on Thanatopsis by W. C. Bryant

Maps

List of Photographs

Readers may click on items in the list to go directly to the photograph. Click the caption to return to this list.

Foreword

I came to this story through marriage. Finishing medical school as the Vietnam conflict peaked in 1970, I was assigned to the large USAF hospital in San Antonio. There I met a nurse, Lieutenant Barbara Beckner, who turned down my first request for a date. Fifty years later were still a pair.

When the time came for me to buy an engagement ring, Barbara suggested I contact her Uncle Jim Beckner, a Master Jeweler in Princeton, Indiana. He was more than pleased to design a custom ring for his niece, personally selecting a flawless, blue-white, pear-shaped diamond and donating it to the cause.

I asked Jim not to tell his brother Charles about the engagement until Id had time to call and ask Charless permission to marry his daughter. Jim laughed, Dont worry about that, son. Im not about to say anything to him. Youre going to have to face that man all by yourself!

He then broke out in laughter again.

After Jims comment, it was with some trepidation that I prepared to speak with Barbaras father for the first time. I telephoned his San Diego home in early 1971. Mr. Beckner, this is John Floyd. Im an Air Force Medical Corps Captain, a physician, calling from San Antonio, Texas. Id like to marry your daughter, and I hope youll give us your blessing.

The prolonged silence that followed cast doubt on how the conversation might end. Eventually both he and Barbaras mother, Mary Carolyn Beckner, overcame their shock and graciously embraced our union.

From our first meeting through his interment with Full Military Honors in Arlington National Cemetery in 2009, I never thought to address Charles Beckner CWO4 (Ret) in any way other than Mr. Beckner. Even when I was promoted to Colonel, he was still, for me, Mr. Beckner.

In truth I could never outrank this hero of WW II.

The events narrated in The Expendable were not shared by Mr. Beckner as a chronological story. The process was more like pulling teeth. He preferred to live in the now and let the past remain exactly where it lay.

The story began during one of our many visits to the Beckners San Diego home. I picked up a picture of him in uniform in his later career and commented on the many ribbons on his uniform.

He nodded, Theres a couple.

I thought I recognized several of the ribbons. This is the Silver Star?

It is.

At the time, I was more focused on the academic ladder than the military career ladder. Even so, I knew that the Silver Star was the militarys third-highest award for bravery in combat. And this is the Bronze Star, with two oak leaf clusters, and this is a Purple Heart. Where and how did you get that?

Okinawa. They got me three times. The first two, I patched myself up. The third time they carried me off and sent me to the hospital on Guam. Someone there must have filed paperwork for the Purple Heart.

How did that happen? Were you shot?

Sniper. My leg. Took me three weeks to get back to Okinawa. Still got some metal in there, and it aches now and then. Want more coffee? Lets go see what the girls want for lunch. I might need to make a trip to the commissary. Want to come?

I looked skyward in frustration but knew better than to pursue the matter. If I hadnt been in uniform myself, Mr. Beckner might not have told me as much as he did over the years. During one visit he shared a two-sentence description of the carnage on an Okinawa battlefield. The next visit, I listened to a board-by-board, nail-by-nail, description of his conversion of an airplane engine shipping crate into a cold-smoke curing house for salmon behind the Navy Hospital in Kodiak, Alaska.