My first exposure to Bataan came when I was eight years old. During the legislative session, Tommy Foy used to come each year to my parents home in Santa Fe. One time, my brothers and sisters surrounded Tommy and asked him why his front teeth were made of gold. He answered simply--"At Bataan, the Japanese knocked the originals out with a brick." I carried that haunting answer with me for years. It simply made no sense. How could anyone be so cruel and mean?

My office sits 100 feet from here. Many times, as I run from my office to the Capital Building across the street, I pass the concrete memorial behind me. I look up and see the eternal flame. Looking out my window, I see people stop and read the bronze plaque. For years, I have listened to the speeches given on April 9, the day of the surrender. At first I couldn't fully comprehend what was being said. But as the years went by, I have begun to realize the significance and the horror of Bataan. I have come to understand what went on and why it must not be forgotten. Bataan stands for courage and strength in an environment that is all but indescribable and unimaginable in today's world of comfortable cars, planes, microwaves and cell telephones.

The surrender of the 200^th and the 515^th at Bataan was over 50 years ago. Many generations have come between then and now. Many people in my generation have forgotten what happened there. Many others have difficulty even believing it could have happened. As I have watched from my office window, I have seen the number of Bataan veterans steadily decreasing. Personally and in my official capacity as State Engineer of New Mexico, I would like to thank you for your sacrifices at Bataan.

What happened at Bataan allows me to stand freely before you this morning. I don't have to worry about an oppressive government running my life. I am free to go as I wish.

But I can do so only because of what you did. In the 1940's, the Japanese government had grand plans of running over the American people and ruling them. What you saw in the prisoner of war camps at Bataan was why control by the Japanese would have been a terrible calamity. Thankfully, the Japanese were stopped and forced into an unconditional surrender. The life of freedom I live today would not be possible without what you did.

For 3 years, held captive in prisoner of war camps, you lived a life under a terrible oppressiveness. During this time, you showed powerful internal strengths and courage. You never gave up your will to live. You were exposed to inhume living conditions, but somehow you dug deep into your souls and found the will to one day know that you would be free. You stayed alive through your prayers, your fellow captives, your belief that one day the United States would come back to get you, and the desire to return to your families.

You had so many cruelties imposed upon you by the Japanese military. It was not only you they held captive and tortured, they also hurt your parents, your brothers and sisters, your wives and girlfriends. For 2 years after your surrender, they didn't let your families know what had happened to you. I am a father. I have a 20-year-old son and know how much he means to me. If I was kept for two years from knowing if he was alive or dead, I can imagine what my emotions would be like. They would have been in a constant turmoil; everyday I would feel emptiness and the loneliness.

The Japanese took everything away from you-all but your lives. You were subjected to horrors beyond comprehension. Yet finally the nightmare ended, and you were released. A grateful nation welcomed you. You saw families and some of you met your children for the first time, for they had been born while you were held captive. Yes, you had changed. You had left the United States as young men, full of idealisms and hope. In Bataan, you grew and matured in a way no normal person should ever have to undergo. You saw horrors and acts of brutality no one today can comprehend. So many of us now sit in warm cozy offices, and have latest in technology. We cannot understand or even know what it like to be deprived of some of our most basic liberties-to live under constant threat of torture or being killed.

I, as State Engineer of New Mexico, am faced on a daily basis with the challenges of administering the State's finite water resources. The pressures are mounting as so many people think that our water supplies are unlimited. For many years, I have been listening to the many demands be spoken by the acequias, the cities, the irrigators, the Indians, and the environmentalists. Unfortunately, I cannot satisfy everyone's demands. I am going to have to make hard choices, choices that are not going to be popular. In the upcoming years, the Office of the State Engineer is going to face strong opposition as it begins to move towards equitable administration of the State's waters. I can only hope and pray that I will have but one tenth of courage and conviction you showed over 50 years ago.

Words are such an inadaquate way to express the gratitude I feel. But I do know this; you have made an immeasurable difference in all our lives. We, along with the valiant people of the Philippines, will be forever in your debt.