Abie Abraham's life story might seem like a paradox to some — a glorious hero, defined by a soul-rending defeat.

But make no mistake. Abraham was an American military hero of the highest order. In times of war and peace, he unselfishly gave his time and effort to ensure the triumph of good over evil. We are in his debt.

On Tuesday, the Department of Veterans Affairs will dedicate the Abie Abraham VA Health Care in Center Township. Affixing his name to the new medical complex is an honor well deserved.

Abraham, a native of Lyndora, survived the Bataan Death March of April 1942 and 40 months' enslavement afterward in a Japanese prisoner of war encampment. In his later years, he logged more than 36,000 volunteer hours at the VA in Butler Township.

He served in the Philippines with the U.S. Army's 31st Infantry under Gen. Douglas MacArthur when the Philippines surrendered to Japan during World War II. MacArthur fled to Australia, vowing to return and avenge the defeat.

“The legend of America's invincibility died on April 9, 1942,” Abraham wrote 50 years later in “Oh God, Where Are You?” his spellbinding account of the battle and its aftermath. “For the first time in history, we surrendered an army and failed to shield a nation under our protection.”

Unimaginable strife

The siege and invasion of the Bataan peninsula, west of Manila on the island of Luzon, was decided before it even began. The Japanese saw to that when they neutralized the U.S. Navy fleet at Pearl Harbor on Dec. 7, 1941, and destroyed U.S. planes in the Philippines the next day, Abraham wrote. The American military was focused in Europe; the destruction at Pearl Harbor greatly weakened the security of far-flung supply lines in the Pacific; and far too many strategic targets took priority over the Philippines for ammunition, relief troops, air defenses, food and other supplies.

It was a literal siege. The American and Filipino soldiers were low on food and ammunition. There was no quinine or other medicine, so dysentery and malaria were epidemic. Men became too weak to carry their packs and heavy machine guns.

And yet the outnumbered and U.S.-Filipino troops fought the superior Japanese forces to a standstill for four months.

Abraham was one of 75,000 American and Filipino soldiers who were forced to march 60 miles over several days in the heat without water. Stragglers were shot, bayoneted or beheaded during the infamous Bataan Death March. More than 20,000 men died during the march.

His personal account includes glimmers of horror and mercy. A tank intentionally running over a fallen prisoner; a Japanese soldier handing a chocolate bar to a starving prisoner; some Japanese guards beating or bayonetting stragglers; other guards looking away as prisoners stopped at a roadside spring and filled empty canteens.

"These were hard-fighting men who fought in Bataan," Abraham wrote. "They were men who had seen death almost every day. They, too, had killed. They knew all the hells of war first hand, but in battle every man had a chance to defend himself. This long hike nightmare was different. They were at the mercy of bloodthirsty monsters, and had no means to fight back."

Victory in defeat

The war did not end on April 9, 1942, and the resistance at Bataan slowed a Japanese advance that otherwise could have proceeded to Australia — making the outcome of World War II very different.

MacArthur's assessment of the battle was that "its long protracted struggle enabled the allies to gather strength. Had it not held out, Australia would have fallen with incalculably disastrous results. Our triumphs today belong equally to the dead army ... no army in history more fully accomplished its mission."

MacArthur made good on his promise to return. It took three and half years to liberate the Philippines from Japanese occupation. The general responsible for the Bataan Death March was convicted by an American military tribunal and was executed.

"Fredricksburg!" the union soldiers shouted as they turned back Pickett's Charge at Gettysburg, remembering the sting of earlier defeat.

"Remember the Alamo!" they yelled on the palace walls at Chapultepec, avenging fallen comrades in Texas.

Never forget Bataan, we add to the litany of patriotic war cries. Out of catastrophe comes the nation's finest hour, its greatest display of resolve and courage.

And a plain spoken man from Lyndora, Abie Abraham, showed us the way.

— TAH