Before dawn the van threads out of Manila and the coastal plain opens like a map. By midmorning you’ll feel the wind change as you cross to Corregidor — the island’s ridges and broken concrete rise from Manila Bay, quiet except for gulls and the echo of distant surf. The island’s gun batteries, ruined barracks and the white-domed Pacific War Memorial read like a physical archive of World War II: mortar pits that once spat shells, battery platforms overlooking Bataan, and the Malinta Tunnel that served as a bomb-proof hospital and command post.