by Kelly Quinn
Bert Byron Davis and his wife Rosella Amelia Davis were missionary educators at the Philippine Union College in Manilla from 1932 – 1944. Bert taught English and psychology and Rose was an instructor of Normal Methods (teacher training). They were sent by the Seventh Day Adventist Church.
Seventh Day Adventists are a Protestant denomination of Christianity that arose out of the 19th century Millerite movement. Butler (1986) describes the Millerite movement was a religious revival in the early 19th century, led by William Miller, a Baptist preacher who believed he had discovered the timing of Christ’s Second Coming through biblical prophecy. His followers, known as Millerites, expected Jesus to return between 1843 and 1844, based on Miller’s interpretation of Daniel 8:14.
When Christ did not return as predicted, the event became known as the Great Disappointment. Many Millerites abandoned the movement, but a small group continued studying scripture, eventually concluding that instead of returning to Earth, Jesus had begun a new phase of his ministry in the heavenly sanctuary. This belief laid the foundation for the Seventh-day Adventist Church. The movement was officially founded in Battle Creek, Michigan May 21, 1863.
Bert was born in Lenawee Junction, Michigan April 24, 1880. He taught in Michigan public schools from 1898 – 1903. He and Rose married in 1904. They were first assigned to Philippine Union College in 1932. In 1937, Bert suffered a health crisis and was furloughed back to Michigan, but returned to Philippine Union College in 1938.
Manila in the 1930s was a vibrant and cosmopolitan city, (Chua, 2020) reflecting a mix of American, Spanish, Chinese, and Filipino influences. As the capital of the Philippine Commonwealth, it was undergoing modernization under American rule, with English becoming more widely spoken and infrastructure improving.
The city had distinct districts: Intramuros remained the center of Spanish heritage, Binondo was bustling with Chinese traders, and Escolta Street was the commercial hub, lined with department stores and theaters. The Manila Hotel was a popular gathering place for elites, and the Jones Bridge stood as an architectural landmark.
Daily life revolved around work, trade, and social gatherings, with horse-drawn carriages (kalesas) still common alongside automobiles. The city had a lively entertainment scene, including cabarets, cinemas, and jazz clubs, reflecting the influence of Western culture. For a couple of rural school teachers, Manila must have been exotic wonder.
The average salary for a missionary educator was $ 118. This salary provided a lifestyle well beyond what Bert and Rose could afford in the States. They had a large house whose staff included a maid, a cook, a gardener and a laundress. Luxuries beyond imagination in the United States for school teachers.
Their bucolic lifestyle came to an abrupt end. On December 8, 1941, just hours after the attack on Pearl Harbor, Japan launched an air assault on Manila, marking the beginning of its invasion of the Philippines. Japanese bombers targeted Clark Field, the main U.S. airbase, catching many American aircraft on the ground and inflicting heavy losses (Peck, 2019). The attack was part of Japan’s broader strategy to neutralize American defenses in the Pacific and secure its expansion into Southeast Asia. Despite advance warnings, U.S. forces were largely unprepared, leading to significant damage to air power and infrastructure.
In a letter dated December 9th, 1941, Bert describes his experience:
What a mess we’re in! Last night we went to bed early. These continuous blackouts swallow up our evenings. The blackness makes us tired. Besides, we were keyed up by emotion; keyed up to a tension not natural. There is no need to tell you why. Your newspapers sport as blatant headlines as ours.
We just can’t realize what has suddenly happened at Pearl Harbor; but, of course, that isn’t all. We are in the middle of it, too. You will all be anxious about us; but we are safe in the home of a friend.
There are several interesting points here. First, even before the attack, blackouts appear to have been common. Bert doesn’t explain the reason for these blackouts, just that they made evening activities, except sleep, unattractive. His letter also suggests that the general population was aware of the threat of military activity, although the military appears to have been unprepared. Interestingly, even though the attack on Manila occurred just hours after the attack on Pearl Harbor, Bert and others were aware of that attack.
The residence that the school provided to Bert and Rose was not far from Manila Bay, near the Esplanade. Camp Nichols was nearby and he describes his fear that it would soon be attacked. He describes the attack on Clark Field , and the attack on Camp John Hay in Baguio:
By nine a. m. yesterday war news was spreading like a prairie fire fanned by a stiff breeze. Camp John Hay in Baguio has been bombed—17 Japanese planes—nine killed and seven wounded.’ Then the cry came, “Sight now they’re bombing Clark Field in Pampanga.” They’re headed this way. “Nichol’s Field will be next.
Camp John Hay in Baguio during the 1930s was a U.S. military rest and recreation facility, offering American personnel a retreat from the tropical heat of the lowlands. Established in 1903, it was named after John Milton Hay, a former U.S. Secretary of State.
During the 1930s, the camp featured colonial-style buildings and served as the residence for the base commander. According to Dennis Flake (2025) the area was surrounded by pine forests, making it a scenic getaway for American officials and soldiers stationed in the Philippines.
The camp was bombed by Japanese forces in December 1941, marking the beginning of the Japanese occupation. Later, it became the headquarters of General Tomoyuki Yamashita, the Japanese commander in the Philippines.
Bert’s concern over the fate of Nichols field was well founded. The U.S. military airfield, located south of Manila, in Pasay and Parañaque, Metro Manila, Philippines was established in 1919, it was originally known as Camp Nichols and served as a key base for the U.S. Army Air Corps.
During World War II, Nichols Field was bombed by Japanese forces on December 9, 1941, just a day after the attack on Pearl Harbor. The airfield was later occupied by the Imperial Japanese Navy Air Service and became a strategic fighter base. It later became a POW camp.
With the invasion underway, civilians began fleeing. Bert describes the scene:
By ten o’clock all schools in Manila and nearby suburbs had been dismissed. Students—thousands of them—were running in every direction. Taxis, trucks, jitneys, busses, and every other kind of conveyance rushed to and fro, honking, screeching! It was noticeable even at this early hour that the Grand Trek was already on its way to the Provinces—out of town. Who could blame them?
Taft Avenue and all the main streets leading into the country were lined with people and baggage waiting for transportation to take them to relatives and friends. Busses were constantly rushing by; but they were not stopping, for they already were packed with passengers like sardines in a box and every inch of the top was covered with humanity. When darkness fell most of these unfortunates were still sitting by their baggage on the street curb. Some, more favored in having cars of their own, had lost no time in leaving Manila.
Taft Avenue is a major road in Metro Manila, stretching through the cities of Manila, Pasay, and Parañaque. The avenue was originally called Calle Rizal before being renamed for the former Governor General and then U.S. President William Howard Taft in the early 20th century.
One of the most interesting points that Bert mentions is the effect of the invasion on the personal finances of the expat community. In 1930s Manila, the expat community operated within a credit system that was largely informal but deeply embedded in business and social networks. Many expats relied on store credit from established businesses along Escolta Street, the commercial hub of Manila. Wealthy merchants extended credit to trusted customers, allowing them to purchase goods and settle accounts later. Usually all that was necessary was a signature. Bert writes:
All of a sudden every business in the city switched to a cash basis. No cash—nothing! One’s credit of years was in the wastebasket. Naturally, there was a rush on all the banks. Police officers were called in to handle the impatient crowds. There was a frenzied laying in of food supplies, gasoline, and other things likely to be grabbed by an invading enemy army.
With cash reserves limited and with access to credit no longer available, panic and privation set in.
Bert’s concern over the fate of Nichols field was well founded. The U.S. military airfield, located south of Manila, in Pasay and Parañaque, Metro Manila, Philippines was established in 1919, it was originally known as Camp Nichols and served as a key base for the U.S. Army Air Corps. It was bombed during the attack on Manila. Bert describes the bombing:
As you know our house is very near Nichol’s field, Manila’ s military airfield. We couldn’t help being somewhat nervous, but nature had her way and we were soon asleep. We had not been asleep long before friends came and pounded on our door. “Get up and dress quickly, ” they shouted excitedly. Nichol’s Field will be bombed soon. You must come to our place farther away. And, “please hurry!” friends living in two adjacent houses were also warned.
Our flashlight helped us some and soon we were on our way. Each of us carried a bag. At the principal cross street we were stopped by vigilantes armed with clubs. After inspection we were allowed to proceed.
By 12:30 o’clock we were again in bed. Even though we were excited we were so tired that we could not keep awake. Boom! Oh, they’re bombing Nichol’s Field! It was 3:15 A.M! The house rocked as in an earthquake. We were afraid. Rose and I were trembling in the dark. We dared not turn on a light for fear the guards would shoot it out and arrest us as fifth columnists.
Boom! Boom! Boom! The house danced a jig. What of the poor soldiers at Nichol’s Field!
Silence! And the silence was more terrible than the bombs. When would one strike us and it all be over? Then we heard our friends rushing through our room to the back door.
“We’re going to the sanatorium with the children,” they said. ( I t was just across the street ) . ” I t ‘ s safer there. You’d better come, too.” “Shall we go?” I said to Hose. “No,” she cried and hugged me all the tighter. “We’re just as safe here as anywhere.”
Boom! again, and still again. It was awful.
Finally, it was over. The Japanese planes had gone. Our friends returned and all was quiet and black again except that two or three large fires out at Nichol’s Field lighted up the sky. We could only guess what had happened. With a prayer for the men still living at the Field, especially the wounded ones, we slept fitfully again.
The letters of Bert Davis provide an eye witness account of the events of December 8th and remind us that during war, those who suffer its worst affects are often the most innocent.
Notes
Butler, J. (1986). From Millerism to Seventh-day Adventism: “Boundlessness to Consolidation”. Church History, 55(1), 50-64.
Chua, Paolo. (2020). What Manila Looked Like the Year You were Born. Esquire. www.esquiremag.ph
Davis, Bert Davis. (1941, December 9). Letter to Folks at Home [Unpublished Letter]. Western Michigan University Zhang Legacy Collections Center, Kalamazoo Michigan
Flake, Dennis Edward. (2025). Camp John Hay: The American Base in the Mountains of Northern Luzon. Inquirer. www.inquirer.net
Peck, Michael. (2019). “Second Pearl Harbor: Inside Japan’s Attack on the Philippines. The National Interest. www.nationalinterest.org