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Some of what was "revealed" was myth -- tales of spies and sabotage, and exaggerations of Allied numerical inferiority to the Japanese. Nor could White, even if he had wanted to, have gotten away with criticizing Douglas MacArthur or any Washington bigwigs who were in part responsible for the Philippines disaster. Indeed, MacArthur was still the hero of the hour for most Americans, and his association with the motor torpedo boats of Squadron 3 -- they spirited General, family and entourage away from Corregidor after President Roosevelt ordered MacArthur to Australia in mid-March, 1942 -- helped hype the book immensely.But what the book lacks in factual veracity, it makes up for in emotional sincerity. Although White actually wrote the "monologues" that make up the narrative, he based his words on those of four squadron officers who had been ordered to leave the Philippines, to relay their knowledge of torpedo-boat warfare to new PT crews back in the States. Their quiet professionalism comes through loud and clear. Lt. John D. Bulkeley, squadron commander and winner of the Medal of Honor for his leadership aboard the boats, is featured prominently because he had already received a great deal of publicity early in 1942, thanks to MacArthur's press agents on Corregidor
But the heart of the narrative (most of it, actually) is attributed to the squadron exec, Lt. Robert Kelly (later transformed in the movie version into John Wayne's overgrown adolescent, "Rusty Ryan," a portrayal that Kelly came to detest). Kelly not only relates his part in the squadron's combats against the Japanese and MacArthur's departure from the islands, but also tells of his relationship with an Army nurse, "Peggy," whom he met in a Corregidor hospital where he was being treated for a minor injury that turned major. White likely overstated the depth of this relationship - it was really more friendship than romance - but Kelly's grief over the loss of that friendship became a metaphor (okay, stick with me here) for America's loss of the Philippines, and perhaps the loss of an innocent vision of the United States as an invincible military power.
After the war (and after the release, in 1945, of the John Ford film based on the book -- a very personal expression of Ford's own views about the war and the Navy), U.S. intelligence officers and historians discovered that the achievements of Squadron 3 in Philippine waters had been somewhat exaggerated. Japanese ships that the torpedo boat crews claimed as "sunk" were, more often than not, undamaged. (Yes, U.S. torpedoes used early in the war were very unreliable.) As the Pacific war progressed, PT boats became extremely important as inshore gunboats (a role in which Squadron 3 excelled, too) but were employed only occasionally as torpedo platforms.
Despite the wartime inaccuracies, White's restrained writing captures the quiet pride as well as the sadness and frustration of his subjects, young men still grieving over losing their crews and their boats. (About half the squadron personnel, listed at the end of the book, became POWs, and several did not survive the harsh Japanese captivity.) I first read this book at age ten, and I have kept coming back to it for more than thirty years because it has an emotional impact unlike most wartime reportage I've read. Although he covered the war in a different way, "They Were Expendable" puts White on a level alongside Ernie Pyle, with whom he shared the ability to see beyond surface heroics to the melancholy that afflicts all human beings caught up in combat. (If you like "They Were Expendable," find a copy of White's other great book about the early days of defeat in the Pacific war, "Queens Die Proudly.")
This is a classic of World War Two journalism -- again, not for the facts, but for the truth. If you want a factual book on Squadron 3 at war, read the appropriate chapter in Robert J. Bulkley Jr.'s "At Close Quarters." For a book that plumbs the emotional experience of an American defeat, read "They Were Expendable."