Some 68 years ago, a prisoner of war

COEUR d'ALENE - Michael Bibin, says his wife Lucille, is a talented man, a loving father and a good husband. But he does have one flaw.

"He can't cook," she says with a laugh.

"I just make good coffee," he answers, smiling as he offers to whip up some cappuccinos in the kitchen.

The 94-year-old with a strong handshake and trimmed mustache is neatly dressed in tan pants and shirt. His hair is combed back as he sits in the study of their Upriver Drive home.

He is about to talk about being the first American casualty of World War II, but for those at Pearl Harbor.

He is about to talk about being a prisoner of war.

He is about to talk of the hope that kept him going.

His wife of 63 years looks at her husband with pride.

"He is the only one out of all the prisoners of war I have ever met who can laugh about things," says Lucille, who goes by "Lou."

It has been nearly 70 years since he and other Americans surrendered to Japanese forces on May 10, 1942, on the island of Mindanao in the Philippines.

He would not be freed until after America dropped an atomic bomb on Hiroshima on Aug. 6, 1945.

"They started bowing to us instead of beating us," Bibin recalled.

He has not forgotten what he endured, what others endured. He remembers many men who died in the war, including his older brother, Frank, another POW.

It is Frank, a survivor of the Bataan Death March who died of malaria in May 1942, that Michael Bibin thinks of each Memorial Day.

He produces a black and white picture of the two together - young, strong, handsome, standing in their perfectly pressed military uniforms.

"He was a good brother," he said.

Michael Bibin, whose 29-year military career ended when he retired in 1963, laughs about his own importance in the war.

"I'm just an old dog-faced soldier," he says.

Captured

Michael Bibin was 17 and his brother Frank 19 when they ran away from their Detroit home in 1934 and enlisted in the Army.

The two trained as bombardiers and gunners, and in November of 1941, the 93rd squadron to which Michael belonged arrived at Clark Field, Philippines.

On Dec. 8, 1941, his B-17 was attacked by a Japanese Zero. Bibin manned the left gun position but was hit when a bullet from the Zero ricocheted off the gun's armored plating.

"The next thing I knew I was sitting on the other side of the plane," he says, then uses his hand to indicate the different points he was wounded in the right arm, right lung and his right eye.

"I got hit here, here, then he took out my shoulder, spun me around," he said.

The B-17 escaped, but it would be five hours before the plane could land in Mindanao.

"I thought I was going to die. They thought I was going to die. We landed and they gave me three days to make it. After three days, they decided, 'Maybe he's going to live.'"

Bibin did survive, but on May 10, 1942, surrounded and running out of food and ammunition, American forces at Mindanao surrendered.

Michael Bibin remained a POW at Mindanao until 1944 when he and about 500 others were put aboard a ship, packed into the cargo hold and sent to Japan to work in factories and mines.

"Did you ever hear of the 'hell ship?'" he asks.

Michael Bibin pulls his knees and his arms toward his chest.

"This is how much room I had for three months," he said. "I was like this. Everybody else was like this."

There was little to eat, little to drink and temperatures were often above 100 degrees. Their ship narrowly escaped being sunk by an American submarine.

In Japan, he worked in two factories. He suffered a broken neck when hit over the head with a pole while he and others were moving machinery. Later, he was accidentally struck in the face by another American POW using a sledge hammer on a work detail.

"Needless to say, smashed my nose all to hell," he said. "When we got liberated, the army wouldn't fix it, so in 1950 I was at school in California, I found me a plastic surgeon and he made me a new nose."

Bibin and fellow POWs subsisted on three half bowls of rice a day, and a little soup.

"Or whatever washed up on shore. I ate rotten oranges, a few other things," he said.

At night, men slept on wooden floors with straw mats and had two thin cotton blankets.

"We froze most of the time,' he said.

He recalled placing scraps of newspaper inside his worn tennis shoes to try and keep his feet warm.

Once, he tried to sneak in wood for the small fire used to heat the barracks. He was caught.

"The next thing I knew, I was hit on the side of the head with a rifle," he said.

Despite the brutality, he didn't lose hope.

As the war waged on, the sight of a B-29 over Japan would lift their spirits.

"We could look over and see the 29s coming over and the Japs attacking them," he said. "We lost quite a few in the ocean. Some of them got captured. Most of them went down."

Word would slip into the POW camps that American forces were moving up. They were coming.

"We knew we'd win," Bibin said.

Freedom

In August 1945, a Japanese solider ran into the camp and said, "80,000 dead."

Bibin and the rest of the POWs didn't know for sure what had happened.

"We just knew that America had hit somewhere," he said.

Later, a Japanese sergeant said, "Dismissed. The war is over."

Bibin said he later learned there was a plan to kill all POWs in Japan on Sept. 29, 1945.

He recalls Japanese teenagers sharpening long bamboo poles and asking what they were doing.

"They said, they were going to kill rats. We were the rats," Bibin said, pointing to himself. "I missed it by three weeks."

Finally freed, Bibin and the others boarded a train and went to the coast where they met American Marines.

"Boy, was I glad to see a Marine," he said with a grin.

When he was captured, he weighed about 150 pounds. When he was freed, he weighed 80 pounds.

They recovered on a hospital ships, and returned to the United States. Bibin was promoted from Technical Sergeant to Master Sergeant, and decided to make the military a career.

It's been 27 years since he and Lou settled in Coeur d'Alene.

They share their bright, spacious home with their beloved 10-year-old shih tzu named Marshall. Lou's paintings decorate the walls upstairs and down. An office displays pictures and ribbons of Michael's military service and awards.

They speak proudly of their son, Michael Bibin, who owns a CPA firm in Coeur d'Alene.

They enjoy spending time with visitors, asking about their families, their interests.

They hold no grudges, saying life is too short.

Both speak of the area's strong patriotism, especially around Memorial Day.

"It is so nice," Michael says. "You have a lot of good people here."

Lou adds that the Coeur d'Alene area is especially wonderful to veterans. They treat them with honor and respect, she says, which they very much deserve.

Men shake her husband's hand, she says. Women hug him. One even pinched his butt, she adds with a laugh.

"When you're 94, a pinch is pretty good," she says.