No portrait of World War II would be complete without the ignored Filipino steward standing in the background of history. Admiral William “Bull” Halsey had Filipino stewards Conrado Castillo and Benedicto Tulao for nearly the duration of the war. Castillo served on the mighty USS New Jersey (BB62), the ship that Admiral Halsey had selected and drawn with care as his flagship. Although he was more familiar with, and at home on, a carrier, he could not risk having flag functions interrupted by battle damage to the vulnerable carriers. The only alternative, as he saw it, was that new Iowa-class battleship that could keep up with the new 32-knot carriers.
With Castillo was Chief Steward (CStd) Benedicto Tulao, who served Admiral Halsey for almost four years. Also Filipino, he had been in the US Navy since 1932. Stationed on USS Rigel from 1939 through 1941 as an Officer’s Steward (OS2c) until his transfer to the destroyer USS Porter (DD356) in October 1941. On October 26, 1942, the USS Porter was assigned to TF 16 that exchanged air attacks with Japanese forces northeast of Guadalcanal in the Battle of the Santa Cruz Islands. During the action, Porter was torpedoed and, after the crew had abandoned ship, was sunk by gunfire from USS Shaw.
Tulao, now an Officer’s Chief Steward (OCS), survived and was taken to the USS South Dakota BB-57 from USS Shaw on October 28, 1942. He proceeded with further transfers as survivors were moved and is noted for duty on “Flag Allowance Comdesron-5” (Commander Destroyer Squadron 5) in the final report of changes for USS Porter (DD356) issued November 23, 1942. On January 13, 1942, he was received on board USS Fletcher DD-445 as part of Commander Destroyer Five Personnel. He appears then to receive new orders and is, on January 23, noted to transfer to “NAB, EPIC, for duty in flag allowance of Commander South Pacific Area”; in short, he is assigned duty on Admiral Halsey’s Flag Allowance as a Chief Steward.
For the rest of the war, even past VJ-Day, Tulao and Castillo would serve together in Admiral Halsey’s personal mess and household. They would go through some of the most pivotal and decisive battles and moments of the Pacific War, all the way through the end of the 1946 Victory Tour. They had their share of Forrest Gump moments. Castillo met Eleanor Roosevelt in Noumea in August 1943.
Castillo mentions Mrs Eleanor Roosevelt staying at the house while touring the South Pacific. On the back of Castillo’s Noumea liberty card the First Lady’s signature is clearly visible bearing witness of a meeting that makes his story more profound when adding a greater context.
Despite knowing the first lady well Admiral Halsey classed Mrs. Roosevelt as a “do-gooder” dreading her arrival to his area as it would potentially monopolise resources needed elsewhere. The First Lady arrived to Noumea on 24 August, 1943 where she spent a day before proceeding to New Zealand.
Mrs Roosevelt was billeted in the “Wicky-Wacky Lodge” that was part of the cluster of buildings making up Admiral Halsey’s living quarters. That night he gave a small reception and dinner for the first lady before she started her rounds the morning after. One will have to assume that Castillo would have been present in some capacity during this dinner.
They were even present at some command moments. Shortly before Halsey ordered a carrier strike on Luzon and perhaps uneasy at ordering a strike on what was then still American territory, he called his stewards. (Admiral Halsey, Admiral Halsey’s Story, chapter 11, page 202)
The night before we struck, I called in our Filipino stewards and pointed out our targets on a chart of the city. I told them, “I want you to know what we’re going to do, because many of you have relatives in Manila. All of us pray that none of them are injured.”
Benedicto Tulao, a chief steward who had been with me for years, asked me, “Those are Japanese installations there, sir?”
“Yes.”
He said firmly, “Bomb them!”
After Japan had surrendered, Halsey undertook a visit the jail where war criminal suspects were being held. One of them was the collaborationist president of the Philippines. An interesting scene develops between the suspected collaborators and Halsey’s stewards. Halsey relates:
My most interesting day ashore I owe to Lt. Gen. Robert L. Eichelberger, commanding the Eighth Army. Bob had invited me to make a tour of the Yokohama jail, where the war criminals were in custody, and had given me permission to bring along my Filipino steward, Tulao. One of the first cells we visited held the notorious Colonel Meisinger, the former "Butcher of Warsaw," who had later become chief of the German Gestapo in Japan. Everybody is familiar with the phrase "arrant coward"; Meisinger is the only one I ever saw. He had lost all control; his huge frame was shaking with fright, and we could hardly understand him for his blubbering.
Bob asked, "Well, Colonel, how are things going with you?"
Meisinger moaned, "Awful, General! Simply awful! I can't sleep or eat, I can't rest, I can't sit still, I'm so nervous!"
"Cheer up!" Bob said pleasantly. "Things will get much worse before they're better!"
Next we stopped to see Bob's fine collection of quislings — the former President of the Philippines, Laurel, and his son; the former Philippine Ambassador to Japan, Vargas; two Burmese, a Dutchman, and others. Young Laurel, an officer on the staff of an American general when war broke out, had deserted to the enemy, taking along an assortment of secret orders and operation plans. He had been educated at a Japanese university, but his father did not have even this slight mitigation; he was a graduate of Yale. His classmates should have seen him — no shirt, no socks, and filthy shoes, trousers, and undershirt.
Vargas, on the contrary, was wearing a neat khaki suit and khaki tie. He talked volubly about his "many acquaintances" in the American Army. When he began to run down, I brought Tulao forward and told them, "I want you to see what a loyal fighting Filipino looks like. This man was on the destroyer Porter when she was torpedoed by your friends the Japanese, and many of his relatives have been tortured or killed by those same friends of yours. His name is Benedicto Tulao, and he's a damn fine man. Take a good look at him!"
They looked, but they said nothing. Tulao just glared. The prison captain remarked loudly, so that the quislings could hear, "If the regulations would let me, Tulao, I'd certainly love to give you three hours here by yourself!"
That would have crossed a social line that perhaps only WWII could efface. At any rate, history gives us no embarrassment, as the stewards professionally weren't there. Perhaps as a salute to all those background men, a fictional Filipino steward, played by Leon Lontoc, appears prominently in the 1960 Halsey biopic The Gallant Hours, with James Cagney in the lead. In the movie, for both the admiral and the steward, the long road is finally over. They can go home to a distant place. The haunting soundtrack plays as they fade away. The soundtrack libretto, written by Ward Costello, could have been written for both the admiral and the stewards, who, alike, according to their stations, went forth to defend their countries, never to return the same men:
I knew a lad who went to sea and left the shore behind him.
I knew him well, the lad was me and now I cannot find him. Away, away, away he went, in deep and salty water.
His girl she waited years for him. She was his neighbor's daughter Away, away, away he went and left the shore behind him. I knew him well, the lad was me and now I cannot find him.
Away, away, away he went, away he went, and now I cannot find him. The rolling sea he would embrace, the rolling sea hath took him.
And passed him on a lonely beach, the roaring sea forsook him.