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People Profile - -Bataan March to 'www. romance,' Kathman survives, thrives
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| Clemens Augustus "Clem" Kathman II, who survived the infamous Bataan March in World War II, met wife Margaret through an Internet dating service. Banner-Press photo/Bud Chambers |
By BUD CHAMBERS/Staff Reporter
Clemens Augustus "Clem" Kathman II - an active 88-year-old enjoying this county's good life in a heavily "senior" Lake Forest subdivision close to Lake Somerville's southern shore - feels very lucky to be alive.
Not because of any infirmities linked to almost nine decades of living. Rather, this Portales, N.M.-raised gentleman has to be among the luckiest of many unlucky Americans situated in the Philippine Islands, 1942.
Perhaps his good fortune included, after a period at a New Mexico junior college, the chance to work in a Texas Tech University Press print shop while completing his journalism degree there in 1940.
Then the luck of this man they called "C.A." through high school and college must have seemed to change dramatically to the dark side.
In January 1941, New Mexico's national guard was activated - amid the darkening clouds of impending U.S. World War II entry.
And Kathman would soon find his "C.A." identification changed to the "Clem" he still mostly answers by - the choice of his first Army sergeant after he was drafted to help fill out one of New Mexico's guard units.
That state's guard was called to Army active duty in March 1941. In just six months or so, Kathman had been trained as a specialist in anti-aircraft weapons and was relocated to help defend the Philippine Islands.
Japan's surprise attack on a large chunk of the U.S. Navy harbored at Pearl Harbor, Hawaii, was but a short time from being horrific history.
Soon, the Philippines would be one of Japan's next targets - and only five months after "Pearl", U.S./Philippine forces would be forced to surrender their arms at Bataan on April 7, 1942.
Another devastating name was primed to be introduced as one of the WWII chapters never ever to be forgotten: "The Bataan Death March."
Kathman recalls that his highly respected U.S. commander, Gen. King, had no choice but surrender with his remaining troops "effectively being out of ammunition as well as rations."
After a final period of one-eighth normal rations, the menu gradually deteriorated "into eating our cavalry horses, wild pigs and iguanas," he recalled.
Actually, Kathman was beneficiary of joining what was to be known as "the death march" at roughly a halfway point - when some 60 to 70 miles remained - and will never forget his assignment upon reaching a former Camp O'Donnell which was being transformed to O'Donnell Prison Camp.
"I had burial detail and we were losing 60 to 80 people daily," Kathman solemnly recalled. "Most had made the entire march and were simply too weak to survive." (Countless others died or were killed in route.)
Philippine soldiers on the march, treated even worse than other allied military groups, were dying at a rate of around 200 per day.
Kathman remained at O'Donnell for almost three months, a place he would describe as "the hell hole of creation" in a 200-page book that is expected off the presses from an Indiana publisher shortly.
If it's remarkable how Kathman kept up with dates during 3ð years as a Japanese prisoner, he said with a laugh that he managed "to break the rules" about keeping a diary both before and during his captivity.
"Most of my writing was on toilet paper," Kathman said. But he later found a process that allowed most of his notes to be read easily.
For instance, his stay in the O'Donnell "hell hole" lasted less than three months when he was among hundreds of POWs "packed like sardines" into train cars and shipped to Cabanatuan camp #3, south of Manila.
Kathman's notes indicate Sept. 2, 1942 as the date "the surviving sardines" arrived at this also infamous Japanese camp housing allied POWs.
Quite a while later, Kathman and many fellow POWs were taken in a Japanese ship across the China Sea into Japan. There, many who were well enough - including Kathman - worked in the Hirohata steel mill.
He toiled there for almost a year before almost dying from a ruptured appendix in the summer of 1944, crediting fellow POW Dr. (Major) Sidney Seid with "saving my life."
With Kathman's infection worsening and his right leg paralyzed, Seid - the 92nd Bomb Group's medical director prior to capture - removed his abscessed appendix using only a straight razor and alcohol.
And just when Kathman was regaining the feeling in his right leg, he was struck by one of the most common POW ailments - diarrhea - which took him down to a skin-and-bones 97 pounds from his normal 145-pound weight.
After he suffered both these setbacks, Dr. Seid did something else which perhaps "saved my life again," according to the grateful ex-POW.
"Major Seid tagged me as a TB (tuberculosis) patient, which gave me better treatment but caused me to be put in isolation for four months," he said.
Seid's "on-purpose misdiagnosis" during his POW time remained on Kathman's medical records and perhaps extended his requirement for a long stay back in U.S. military hospitals to an even longer 14-months.
Happily, U.S. Army Staff Sgt. Clem Kathman - after long stays in both Bruns Army Hospital, Santa Fe, N.M. and Sam Houston Army Hospital, San Antonio - was discharged in July 1947 after six years, four months service.
On another happy note, Clem married his "nurse" - actually, his new bride was the Army NCO in charge of the Bruns medical unit.
The two were married in August 1947 and their son, C.A. "Korky" Kathman III, now of Coppell, was born some five years later, Dec. 27, 1952
Amazingly considering his health trials as a POW, he has outlived two wives - and now third wife, Margaret of Somerville, accompanied him to Coppell just after Christmas to help celebrate Korky's 52nd birthday.
By the way: author Kathman's book, based on his "toilet paper diaries" is entitled I Was There, Charlie! and is due to be printed shortly.
Check a www. authorhouse.com Web address for more information.
Perhaps not so surprisingly, Kathman has dedicated his book to Seid - a dedicated physician who also served several New Mexico Indian
C.A. "Clem" Kathman II, twice widowed and lonely living in Dallas, was not getting any responses three years ago from his Web dating service.
A good friend looked at the synopsis Kathman was displaying on the 'Net and quickly advised, "Nobody gives their real age Š say you're 75, not 85."
This bit of fibbing soon had Kathman exchanging e-mail "with about eight different women" when a then-single Margaret Jenkins paid $15 each for three names as potential Internet correspondents.
Margaret laughs that their ultimately getting-together and marrying some 2ð years ago was actually the result of "a mistake."
Kathman had been the second of her three possible Internet contacts, and Margaret had written him off "as two young" - remember, he now claimed to be 75, not 85 - and, closing in on 77, she was looking for an older man.
But as things turned out, Margaret had a wonderful "senior moment," mistakenly e-mailing a message to Clem's address, though naming the potential third contact on this dating service.
This new contact resulted in clearing up Clem's real age, and roughly some 10-months of correspondence later, he was invited down to a special family occasion in Somerville.
Soon, Kathman - who retired in the early 1980s from 35-years working as a printing department supervisor with the then active Dallas Times-Herald - was a regular traveler south on most weekends.
Now the active Kathman couple - at ages 88 and 80 respectively - are beneficiaries of children, grandchildren and now a pair of "great-grands" from three directions in the now enlarged family.
The still-running score: Clem's son, Clemens III, has two sons and a daughter; Mary Jo - the daughter of Clem's second deceased wife - has three girls; and one of Margaret's two children (son, Phil, died of Vietnam War-related injuries), daughter Laura has two daughters.
Laura's oldest, Melissa, 27, has presented the still essentially newly-wed Kathman's with their first two great grandchildren - ages 2ð and two-months.
The younger, Shara, 25, is now a teacher's aide in the Brenham school system and resides in the Lake Forest home with her grandparents.
And this May, Kathman's oldest grandson will graduate from Texas Tech - precisely 65 years after his 1940 journalism degree.
With the harshness of those 3ð years in Japanese POW camps, he has beaten very long odds to have a shot at watching his grandson, Jason Kathman, follow his long ago lead as "a Texas Tech graduate."
Reviewing Kathman's 88-years of life, so far, he certainly represents - by such as survival as a long time Japanese POW - the best of America and its "Greatest Generation" that starred in keeping this nation free.
And, if Ph.D's in "living life" are ever given out, C.A. "Clem" Kathman II - now enjoying his Golden Years in this county - deserves one of the first.
Not because of any infirmities linked to almost nine decades of living. Rather, this Portales, N.M.-raised gentleman has to be among the luckiest of many unlucky Americans situated in the Philippine Islands, 1942.
Perhaps his good fortune included, after a period at a New Mexico junior college, the chance to work in a Texas Tech University Press print shop while completing his journalism degree there in 1940.
Then the luck of this man they called "C.A." through high school and college must have seemed to change dramatically to the dark side.
In January 1941, New Mexico's national guard was activated - amid the darkening clouds of impending U.S. World War II entry.
And Kathman would soon find his "C.A." identification changed to the "Clem" he still mostly answers by - the choice of his first Army sergeant after he was drafted to help fill out one of New Mexico's guard units.
That state's guard was called to Army active duty in March 1941. In just six months or so, Kathman had been trained as a specialist in anti-aircraft weapons and was relocated to help defend the Philippine Islands.
Japan's surprise attack on a large chunk of the U.S. Navy harbored at Pearl Harbor, Hawaii, was but a short time from being horrific history.
Soon, the Philippines would be one of Japan's next targets - and only five months after "Pearl", U.S./Philippine forces would be forced to surrender their arms at Bataan on April 7, 1942.
Another devastating name was primed to be introduced as one of the WWII chapters never ever to be forgotten: "The Bataan Death March."
Kathman recalls that his highly respected U.S. commander, Gen. King, had no choice but surrender with his remaining troops "effectively being out of ammunition as well as rations."
After a final period of one-eighth normal rations, the menu gradually deteriorated "into eating our cavalry horses, wild pigs and iguanas," he recalled.
Actually, Kathman was beneficiary of joining what was to be known as "the death march" at roughly a halfway point - when some 60 to 70 miles remained - and will never forget his assignment upon reaching a former Camp O'Donnell which was being transformed to O'Donnell Prison Camp.
"I had burial detail and we were losing 60 to 80 people daily," Kathman solemnly recalled. "Most had made the entire march and were simply too weak to survive." (Countless others died or were killed in route.)
Philippine soldiers on the march, treated even worse than other allied military groups, were dying at a rate of around 200 per day.
Kathman remained at O'Donnell for almost three months, a place he would describe as "the hell hole of creation" in a 200-page book that is expected off the presses from an Indiana publisher shortly.
If it's remarkable how Kathman kept up with dates during 3ð years as a Japanese prisoner, he said with a laugh that he managed "to break the rules" about keeping a diary both before and during his captivity.
"Most of my writing was on toilet paper," Kathman said. But he later found a process that allowed most of his notes to be read easily.
For instance, his stay in the O'Donnell "hell hole" lasted less than three months when he was among hundreds of POWs "packed like sardines" into train cars and shipped to Cabanatuan camp #3, south of Manila.
Kathman's notes indicate Sept. 2, 1942 as the date "the surviving sardines" arrived at this also infamous Japanese camp housing allied POWs.
Quite a while later, Kathman and many fellow POWs were taken in a Japanese ship across the China Sea into Japan. There, many who were well enough - including Kathman - worked in the Hirohata steel mill.
He toiled there for almost a year before almost dying from a ruptured appendix in the summer of 1944, crediting fellow POW Dr. (Major) Sidney Seid with "saving my life."
With Kathman's infection worsening and his right leg paralyzed, Seid - the 92nd Bomb Group's medical director prior to capture - removed his abscessed appendix using only a straight razor and alcohol.
And just when Kathman was regaining the feeling in his right leg, he was struck by one of the most common POW ailments - diarrhea - which took him down to a skin-and-bones 97 pounds from his normal 145-pound weight.
After he suffered both these setbacks, Dr. Seid did something else which perhaps "saved my life again," according to the grateful ex-POW.
"Major Seid tagged me as a TB (tuberculosis) patient, which gave me better treatment but caused me to be put in isolation for four months," he said.
Seid's "on-purpose misdiagnosis" during his POW time remained on Kathman's medical records and perhaps extended his requirement for a long stay back in U.S. military hospitals to an even longer 14-months.
Happily, U.S. Army Staff Sgt. Clem Kathman - after long stays in both Bruns Army Hospital, Santa Fe, N.M. and Sam Houston Army Hospital, San Antonio - was discharged in July 1947 after six years, four months service.
On another happy note, Clem married his "nurse" - actually, his new bride was the Army NCO in charge of the Bruns medical unit.
The two were married in August 1947 and their son, C.A. "Korky" Kathman III, now of Coppell, was born some five years later, Dec. 27, 1952
Amazingly considering his health trials as a POW, he has outlived two wives - and now third wife, Margaret of Somerville, accompanied him to Coppell just after Christmas to help celebrate Korky's 52nd birthday.
By the way: author Kathman's book, based on his "toilet paper diaries" is entitled I Was There, Charlie! and is due to be printed shortly.
Check a www. authorhouse.com Web address for more information.
Perhaps not so surprisingly, Kathman has dedicated his book to Seid - a dedicated physician who also served several New Mexico Indian
C.A. "Clem" Kathman II, twice widowed and lonely living in Dallas, was not getting any responses three years ago from his Web dating service.
A good friend looked at the synopsis Kathman was displaying on the 'Net and quickly advised, "Nobody gives their real age Š say you're 75, not 85."
This bit of fibbing soon had Kathman exchanging e-mail "with about eight different women" when a then-single Margaret Jenkins paid $15 each for three names as potential Internet correspondents.
Margaret laughs that their ultimately getting-together and marrying some 2ð years ago was actually the result of "a mistake."
Kathman had been the second of her three possible Internet contacts, and Margaret had written him off "as two young" - remember, he now claimed to be 75, not 85 - and, closing in on 77, she was looking for an older man.
But as things turned out, Margaret had a wonderful "senior moment," mistakenly e-mailing a message to Clem's address, though naming the potential third contact on this dating service.
This new contact resulted in clearing up Clem's real age, and roughly some 10-months of correspondence later, he was invited down to a special family occasion in Somerville.
Soon, Kathman - who retired in the early 1980s from 35-years working as a printing department supervisor with the then active Dallas Times-Herald - was a regular traveler south on most weekends.
Now the active Kathman couple - at ages 88 and 80 respectively - are beneficiaries of children, grandchildren and now a pair of "great-grands" from three directions in the now enlarged family.
The still-running score: Clem's son, Clemens III, has two sons and a daughter; Mary Jo - the daughter of Clem's second deceased wife - has three girls; and one of Margaret's two children (son, Phil, died of Vietnam War-related injuries), daughter Laura has two daughters.
Laura's oldest, Melissa, 27, has presented the still essentially newly-wed Kathman's with their first two great grandchildren - ages 2ð and two-months.
The younger, Shara, 25, is now a teacher's aide in the Brenham school system and resides in the Lake Forest home with her grandparents.
And this May, Kathman's oldest grandson will graduate from Texas Tech - precisely 65 years after his 1940 journalism degree.
With the harshness of those 3ð years in Japanese POW camps, he has beaten very long odds to have a shot at watching his grandson, Jason Kathman, follow his long ago lead as "a Texas Tech graduate."
Reviewing Kathman's 88-years of life, so far, he certainly represents - by such as survival as a long time Japanese POW - the best of America and its "Greatest Generation" that starred in keeping this nation free.
And, if Ph.D's in "living life" are ever given out, C.A. "Clem" Kathman II - now enjoying his Golden Years in this county - deserves one of the first.
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