In a camp where competition for survival was becoming a serious problem, where officer was stealing from officer, it was a real joy to see the brotherly love of Masons for their fellow men. I decided that someday I would be a Mason.
The Morgue: It was only a short distance from Zero Ward to the morgue, where bodies were accumulated, awaiting the daily trip to the cemetery.
The Cemetery (Group IV): Once each day, thirty to fifty
captives formed lines at the morgue to carry the naked bodies on window shutters to the cemetery, about one-half mile from camp. Following a brief religious ceremony, the skeletonized bodies were lowered into common graves. On rainy days the graves filled with water; it became necessary to hold the bodies down the poles, while dirt was shoveled on to them. Sometimes the rain would uncover an arm or leg; then animals ate away the flesh.
BOOT HILL *
No monuments nor flowers there amid the fields of cane,
No birds their song to fill the air, No trees to shield the rain.
We've watched these things through tear-dimmed eyes,
We've felt a sense of shame,
But now we see as time goes by,
We are really not to blame.
No, it's surely not the best,
No glory does it claim,
It's just the place where we laid them to rest,
Our friends who lost the game.
Chapter VI
JAPANESE ATROCITIES
The Japanese were a proud people, regarding themselves as descendants of the gods, a superior race, destined to bring light into a darkened world. Should any wicked nation dare to impede or to obstruct their Emperor in carrying out his celestial undertakings, Japan would fight-by the command of the Japanese gods to reunite all nations under the rule of the Japanese Emperor.
The Imperial Rescript of the Emperor to his military powers included the following statement: "Should any emergency arise, "Boot hills were at Camps O'Donnell & Cabanatuan, written by Ed "Tommie" Thomas while in the hospital at Cabanatuan with diphtheria. The burial details went by the barracks each morning as he watched, wondering if he would be on one of those litters the next morning.
offer yourself courageously to the state, and thus regard to maintain the prosperity of our Imperial Throne, Coeval with Heaven and Earth."
As late as 1877, the ancient custom of making trophies of the heads of the enemy soldiers was still in effect in Japan.
Japan violated the Geneva Convention in 1931 when she invaded Manchuria, and again in 1937 when she invaded China both without a declaration of war. The world shouldn't have been surprised when the Japanese bombers made their sudden attack on Pearl Harbor without a declaration of War, further violating the Articles of Code 1929. Actually, the Japanese had never approved the Geneva Convention, either in theory or in practice, especially concerning P.O. W. s.
To the Japanese, surrender was a violation of military morality. In any defeat, a loyal Japanese soldier would commit hari kiri.
Discipline in the Imperial Army was enforced by frequent slapping, beating and kicking of junior officers and enlisted men for rather minor offenses. For serious crimes, discipline was more complex. The victim could be turned over to a Judo expert for suitable punishment. He could be given the water treatment. He could be tied to a fence post, and slapped beaten or kicked by each passing soldier. He could be used for bayonet practice by recruits. Severe crimes called for an officer to unsheathe his samurai sword and behead the criminal. The head was displayed to others, tied to a bamboo pole, so the observer would learn that crime does not pay. Enlisted men with little or no rank, had no one to slap, beat or kick, so a captured enemy filled an important gap in their system. In the minds of the Japanese, they were. Not barbarians or savages, but merely loyal and patriotic personnel administering a just punishment to those who dared to defy authority, the Emperor or the Gods.
Atrocities were committed on many work details, including the farm. Some were for the punishment of rather minor rules and others were for the amusement of the guards, who enjoyed watching the Americans performing super Herculean tasks.
Once a month, I had to carry hundred pound sacks of rice from the gate to mess halls. This could have been easily accomplished by carts, but the Japanese thought that the Americans should "pay the price!" As a result I developed three hernias, which became a considerable handicap in completing my tour with "the Sons of Heaven."
The Japanese seemed very little concerned that more Americans and Filipinos died as their prisoners, on the "Death March," in prison camps, on labor details, hell ships, and working in coal mines and munitions factories, than died at the hands of the Japanese on the battlefields. Those of us, who were guests of the Nipponese Emperor, have little doubt that some of the treachery was learned from the German Kulture.
We, who were captives and prisoners of the Japanese, will never be able to forgive them, but knowing their background did help to explain some of their vicious actions. However, it did not make their barbarous, brutal, cruel savagery any easier to endure.
Very few ex-P.O.W.s will ever drive Toyotas, Datsuns or Mazdas.
Chapter VII AMERICANS!
We kept getting reports on our little radio that MacArthur was winning battles in many places, some of which we'd never heard of:
March, 1944 - Palau;
April - Hollandia;
June - Saipan.
In July, we heard that MacArthur met Roosevelt in Hawaii, and that he was finally able to convince the President that it was necessary to take the Philippines in order to have a base from which to attack Japan.
In August it was reported that 30,000 Japs had been killed don't
know where. .
September 15, 1944: Two-hundred aircraft had bombed Cebu, Negros
and Panay.
U.S. Navy Dive-Bombers! On Sept. 21-suddenly-out of a clear blue sky-some thousand planes flew over camp from the east-they had to be carrier planes. They continued west to an hour. Then the planes returned coming down low over camp.
We could make out U.S. Navy markings on them. The Jap guards were all crouching down in foxholes.
"Don't lose your head now! Don't show any emotion! The Nips are all trigger-happy, just waiting for an incident to happen
before shooting up the camp."
A big Jap bomber tried to sneak off the local airfield that we had built with prisoner labor. It was flying low-barely over the treetops. A Navy dive bomber saw it, dropped down right over it and strafed it with incendiaries. In seconds there was a big explosion and tremendous orange flames as the bomber plowed into the ground. This was followed by billows of black smoke lasting several hours.
It was a great show! It was tough trying to repress our elation. There was no food served that day - a typical Japanese reaction.
We all believed that freedom must be close that the Americans would be making landings soon. That night morale was high; the camp literally buzzed with rumors. A few Navy planes appeared almost daily.
October, 1944: MacArthur invaded Leyte producing 100,000 Japanese casualties. The attitude of the Nip guards changed very markedly; they lost the arrogance they had when they were winning the battles; some became sadistic; some became friendly.
A big Jap "shakedown." Every prisoner had to display all his possessions. Japs picked up all mosquito netting and tropical helmets, saying, "You vill not need these in Japan! You vill be sent to Japan!"
The camp began to buzz with rumors again. U.S. Medical officers were ordered to examine all prisoners to determine the ones well enough to make a trip to Japan and the ones too disabled to travel. The Japanese did not want any amoebic dysentery cases in Japan. Suddenly, there was a new commodity "warm stools." Prisoners, who feared a "hell ship" cruise to Japan, bartered for a "hot specimen" from a known amoebic to present to the laboratory for examination hoping against hope, that it would be "positive."
Japan Detail: Before our Japan Detail departed for Manila, I asked Major Stephen Sitter, the camp psychiatrist, "Why is it that very few of the 12,000 prisoners spending time in the Cabanatuan camp ever made any attempt to take their own lives when they were starving, suffering from many diseases and were frequently in unpleasant and uncomfortable situations?"
He answered, "They were all too busy figuring out ways to survive; they didn't have time to think about suicide."
Between October 21 and 27, about 1600 prisoners, the Japan
Detail, were loaded on trucks to be delivered to the old Spanish prison in Manila-Bilibid. Before leaving, several of us prisoners buried diaries, notes, sketches, etc., near the buildings in which we lived, hoping to retrieve them after the war. My 110 sketches were placed in a Mason jar and buried near Bldg. #12. On our way to Manila, our truck had to stop frequently under big trees-to hide from the numerous U.S. planes passing overhead.
Cabanatuan Rescue: After the exodus of the Japan Detail (the so-called healthy prisoners) in late October, there were only 511 unhealthy prisoners remaining in camp.
Things were rather quiet until about 2000 hours on January 30, 1945, when sudden gunfire from outside the camp wiped out all of the Japanese guards in the towers. It was MacArthur's 6th Ranger Battalion under the command of Lt. Col. Henry Mucci - aided by guerrillas - walking into camp. They quickly obtained carabao carts and sleds for the bedridden prisoners.
That evening 511 internees were moved many miles down the road to the west in the moonlight with hardly a shot fired. Early the next morning they arrived at a transportation center, where prisoners were placed aboard trucks and ambulances and taken to Lingayen Gulf; then they were transferred to planes and flown to Manila. After suffering from more than three years of intentional neglect by the Japanese Imperial Army, they were finally "free men."
No prisoners were lost in the operation; there were two casualties among the Rangers: Capt. James Fischer, the doctor, was killed by mortar fire near the main gate of camp. Cpl. Sweezy died from wounds.
Chapter VIII
"OLD" BILIBID PRISON
Our trucks entered the main gate of Bilibid, where we dismounted and walked to a large stone building in the back of the old prison. I was assigned an area two by six feet in the middle of the hall on the second floor. My bed was a blanket on the concrete floor. The windows were all boarded-up.
We were greeted by other prisoners: "American planes have been making daily bombing raids on the port area only a few blocks away and on the ships in the harbor - Manila Bay." We thought, "That's good! Maybe they won't be able to get
us out."
"MacArthur must be getting close! When the air-raid alarms sounded, the guards have been chasing all of the prisoners inside the buildings."
"We were able to find peepholes where we could watch the U.S. planes dive down through heavy flak of anti-aircraft guns, to drop their bombs on important targets."
It was not long until we had a front seat to a bombing raid.
We watched black smoke billowing up from burning oil tanks really a great show! It was also quickly evident that slow starvation was the daily pattern at Bilibid. The high walls made it impossible to get any extra food. My weight was now 110 pounds.
In November, I developed dengue, a mosquito-born disease called "break-bone fever." It was properly named-felt .like every bone in my body was breaking. For ten days I was in the prison hospital, overlooking the main gate and Rizal Ave. I didn't care much whether I lived or died - one chill after another. No appetite! I couldn't eat the thin lugao they brought me. Lost weight and strength. I was in bad shape to start a trip through MacArthur's blockade.
About December 1st, I was pronounced well! I dragged myself back to the big stone building and my area on the concrete floor. My bones were getting very close to the concrete.
Shortly, a typhoon arrived; the winds blew, the skies darkened and heavy rains beat down-generally very unpleasant. No planes arrived to make their daily attacks.
In a few days, we began to hear ships' whistles and bells again. That meant ships were moving in and out of Manila Bay, unmolested by bad weather and U.S. planes. This was a bad omen! The Japs would probably get us aboard a ship and on our way through MacArthur's blockade.
Again, the Japanese ordered our medical officers to examine all prisoners in Bilibid, to determine those healthy enough to complete the trip to Japan, and those sick enough to remain behind the stone walls-to be recaptured by MacArthur's troops in a few weeks. My better sense told me it would be smarter to be sick and be rescued, but my conscience kept telling me I should go along.
Liberation of Bilibid Prison: MacArthur's invading forces landed on the beaches of Lingayen Gulf on January 9th, 1945, with the aid of Col. Russell Volkmann's Northern Luzon guerrillas Headquarters were established in Dagupan.
On February 4th, a flying column of the 1st Cav. Div. Under Brig. Gen. William Chase entered Manila and relieved the prisoners from Bilibid. As a soldier broke down a boarded-up window in the stone wall near where Ted Winship was busy quanning (cooking), Ted asked, "Who are you?"
The soldier answered, "I'm Sgt. Jones! We've come to liberate you!"
Ted countered with: "Where the hell have you been for three years?"
Chapter IX JAPAN DETAIL - ORIENTAL TOUR STRICTLY THIRD-CLASS!
In the fall of 1944, when MacArthur's forces were threatening to retake the Philippines, the Japanese began to evacuate all healthy prisoners of war to Japan, so that none could be liberated to assist the invading army. The death of a prisoner by any means was considered preferable to capture by the invading troops Japanese thinking).
"Hell Ships": The "hell ship" journey began at old Bilibid Prison.
December 13, 1944: Long before dawn, we were awakened by the ringing of a large bell at the prison guardhouse. The day we had been dreading for many months, had arrived; 1619 of us would depart from our uncomfortable quarters and start a long journey to Japan. Thoughts of riding on a prison ship filled us with apprehension; several prison ships had already been sunk and many of our friends had been lost.
We lifted our emaciated bodies from the concrete floor, showered and shaved in the dark; we didn't know when we might experience such luxury again. We put our few worldly but worthless possessions into our packs. Breakfast was the usual half-cup of lugao.
As the first light of day peeked over the high stone wall, we were lined up with our baggage; we stood for hours as Col. Beecher, USMC, our commanding officer, and a Japanese guard wandered through our ranks-trying to get a head count. The guards, a rather ignorant group, were completely puzzled by such a large number - 1619. Finally about 0800 hours, everything
seemed to be ready. Shouting and waving disabled prisoners filled the windows and doors as our long line moved slowly through the gate and dawn Rizal Avenue. When the line was about was quickly reversed and hurried back into the prison: "Kura! Hully, Hully! Speeda! Speeda!"
We couldn't see any planes, but were kept in line far hours. Sweat rolled freely dawn our faces and backs. Guards went among us, picking up mosquito nets and tropical helmets: "Don't need in Japan!"
At 1100 hours, the long line moved slowly out the gate. Rizal Avenue was crowded with saber, gaping Filipinas not the, happy-go-lucky ones we had known before the war. Occasionally when hidden from guards, they would give us a "V" sign. We dared not acknowledge it.
We could see "pity" on their faces as we passed dawn the streets, by the Metropolitan Theater and over the Passig Bridge. The natives' looked haggard and ragged. Most of them were on foot rather than riding the usual caratellas or caramettas (pony carts). Many stores were closed, boarded-up. Many homes showed signs of looting. Metal had been removed from every available place-iron bars from windows, manhole covers from streets taken to Japan far making armaments.
We went the long way through Luneta Park; we saw artillery and anti-aircraft positions there and in the streets. It appeared that the Nips would put up a good fight to retain the Philippines.
There were many ships in the bay-destroyers and cruisers as well as transports. Same had been sunk; many were nearly submerged or listing badly; yet others appeared to be unharmed.
Tugs and tenders moved briskly about the bay; derricks strained aver damaged vessels. All in all, there was entirely too much activity far a supposedly blockaded port!
There were many Japanese civilians, mostly women and children, milling
about Pier Seven. They were short and stocky, dark and expressionless.
Most of them were carrying cloth or straw bundles-their possessions.
They were being evacuated to Japan to avoid the battle far the
Philippines that everyone knew was coming.
As we arrived on the pier, we were divided into groups of one hundred and ordered to "Sit dawn and stay in place!" The floor was filthy, but the rest was welcome.
Oryoko Maru: By squirming around, I could read the name of
the ship, Oryoku Maru, on the bow painted over with gray as was the whole ship. There was nothing to mark it as a ship carrying prisoners. Winches were working rapidly, raising American-made appliances and cars to the deck.
I discovered a water faucet nearby and eased over to it to fill my canteen, only to be driven away by a jabbering guard. I was not enthused about making a trip through MacArthur's blockade with an empty canteen. However, I did get a good look at the ship. It was a large, modern passenger liner with several big anti-aircraft guns on the deck. The ship was not to be sunk without a good fight.
Pier Seven showed much evidence of heavy bombing, but was still definitely usable. Just before dark, prisoners began to climb the ladders to the deck. The aft hold was loaded first 719 prisoners. Next, the forward hold with 718 prisoners.
Just as we, the remaining 182 prisoners were ordered into the second hold (behind the forward hold), we were joined by seven additional prisoners who had come from Fort McKinley, a few miles east of Manila. Many others were on the way to join us, when their lead streetcar conveniently left the tracks.
Our group, now 189, was composed mostly of medics and civilians. The ship's cabins, dining rooms and parlors were crowded with several thousand women, children and elderly Japanese civilians. We dropped our packs into the hold and quickly descended the long ladder into darkness hurried by the grunting guards and their "vitamin sticks."
There was not enough room for everyone to sit down. Our group of medics crowded together in the center of the hold. The floor was filthy, covered with horse manure. The stench burned our eyes; our roof was the darkening sky. We were glad for its protection. The ship was soon under way, moving smoothly and rapidly.
We were divided into groups of twenty. A representative of each group was sent above to get small amounts of fish, rice and water. Our latrine was a five-gallon can in the center of the hold; it was soon filled.
Sleeping was difficult; we were awakened each time a neighbor would move, because of cramps, numbed extremities or the urge to urinate.
December 14, 1945: Thursday - We were awakened at the first sign of daylight. Three of us who had shared an interest in
a can of Spam saved for several weeks from a Red Cross package-debated whether or not to eat it. We decided to save it for a suitable emergency.
Our group representative went above to the kitchen for a bucket of rice; he brought back bad news from the other holds which were more crowded: "Some thirty prisoners had died from suffocation during the night. Several, suffering from extreme thirst, had become crazed, slashing and biting throats, arms and legs to 'suck' the blood. Some men actually had to fight off their neighbors with a shoe or a club to keep from getting murdered. Several frenzied prisoners tried to climb the ladders and were immediately shot by the guards. Perhaps this was a blessed relief from their tormentors."
Our representative also told us, "We are in a convoy of some seven ships, a cruiser, destroyers and transports, loaded with troops (probably sick and wounded). We were moving north along the Zambales coast at about twenty knots."
About 0900 hours I heard planes; many of them; soon there were loud blasts from the anti-aircraft guns on the deck above. The planes began to dive. Faster and faster they whined. Then tremendous explosions! They were attacking the other ships; they could knock us off at their leisure.
Then bullets and shrapnel slashed and rattled through our hold- as several food carriers were coming down the ladder with buckets of rice.
One of these was my good friend, Chaplain Ed Nagel, a former missionary in Baguio, shot through the thigh. With blood streaming down his leg, he continued down the ladder carrying a bucket of rice.
"U.S. Navy planes!" he shouted.
There was no doubt now; our ship was the target, and we were sitting on the bull's eye.
Motors continued to accelerate-then terrific concussions; the ship quivered and was actually bouncing in the water. The air was full of bomb dust and chips of rust; it was becoming difficult to breathe. We tried to move toward the side of the hold and huddled close together. My heart was pounding like a trip hammer in my parched throat; my ears were ringing and my eyes were popping. I completely forgot how hungry I was. Each prisoner was conversing with his God. I had quick visions of my family they'll never know what happened to me. There'll be
no survivors to tell them. Will it ever stop?"
Many men were bleeding badly! There was much confusion, much moving around. Everyone was trying to get in a safer place, to get bandages, to apply pressure to wounds it was hopeless; everything was covered with dirt and dust.
The planes were diving again, spraying their deadly missiles. (I have neither the will nor the talent to describe the gory details.) "Would this be the explosion that would blot out our existence?" Then it was over! Complete silence!
Stunned, we moved into the center of the hold to get better air to breathe and to thank God for surviving. We bandaged the wounded and moved them into positions of relative safety.
But our quiet didn't last long! More planes! More anti-aircraft blasts! More explosions! More concussions! More dust and dirt!
As a doctor, I had seen many people die during the previous sixteen years. I knew that nature was usually kind to dying persons, supplying stupor and coma to ease any pain. But I wasn't ready to die-I wasn't even forty, when life is supposed to begin. We had buckets of rice, covered with dirt and rust chips, but no one could eat.
Fifteen more times that day planes returned to attack our ship. Five times the gun crews on the deck were annihilated and replaced with fresh crews. There had been no lack of bravery on the deck. Officers continued to wave their sabers at the pilots. During the last bombing, fragments of rock flew into the hold; our ship had been beached on the Zambales coast to prevent its sinking.
As the sun went down, we could feel the ship backing off the shore. By watching the shadows rotate around the mast, we could tell that we were headed to the west, out to sea. We wondered if the ship was fit for further voyage.
Our food carriers, returning from the kitchen above, reported,
"All the other ships in the convoy are gone-probably sunk."
As we moved out to sea, we heard muffled explosions - depth charges to keep submarines away.
After several hours the engines stopped and we drifted gently for some time, and then the anchors were dropped. We could hear small boats coming alongside. Wounded passengers were being taken off in the darkness. A Japanese officer took several American doctors up on deck to help the wounded. On returning, they reported, "The decks, cabins and dining rooms are littered with
dead and dying. We had only candle light no medicines, no bandages. Actually there was nothing we could do."
That night held all of the horrors of the previous night: groaning, cursing, praying, screaming, and shouting of the wounded and crazed: "Don't touch me! Oh! God, NO! Keep away from me! Don't kill me! Give us air! Let us out! We need water!" and on through the night. The unloading continued through the night. No one slept.
Dec. 15, 1944: The bright sunrise rekindled our apprehensions-" Are we being left on board the ship to be bombed out of our miseries?"
We didn't have to wait long planes again closer and closer.
They were diving! This time there were no gun crews on deck!
"Now they can come in close for the kill!"
Deadly showers of bullets ricocheted through the hold. Tremendous explosions shook the ship. Planked flooring off the hold fell into the bilge, dropping many prisoners into the bottom of the ship; some were hopelessly pinned down.
I prayed to God and asked for mercy, but felt that I had a poor connection! Maybe He wasn't listening! He probably .had more important things to do! My feelings were of complete submission-"What will be, will be!"
Our doctors were frustrated! Wounds were covered with dirt blood bubbling through the filth. No water available! We tore up clothing for bandages, and hoped a miracle might help.
Large fires were burning in the stern of the ship where a bomb had made a direct hit. We couldn't understand why Admiral Halsey's pilots had not been informed that American prisoners were aboard the Oryoku Maru.
It was disturbing to be bombed by our own Navy aviators "our friends."
Yet, I couldn't bear them any ill will. They obviously didn't know!
Mr. Wata, the diminutive and deformed Japanese interpreter, appeared at the top of the hold, and shouted down, "Abandon ship! Remove all clothing! Wounded must come up first! All of you leave ship!"
As the first fifty wounded reached the deck, back came the planes strafing and bombing. Many of those reaching the deck were killed or further wounded. In a few minutes we got a second opportunity to go up the ladder. Knowing I would have to swim,
I removed my shoes and outer clothing; I discarded them with my medical bag and "our" precious can of Spam. The rungs of the ladder were very sharp and painful to my bare feet. By the time I had reached the deck I was exhausted.
I was suddenly aware that three planes overhead were diving! I believed I must get away from the ship and fast. I ran across the deck toward the nearest shore and jumped off-just like in, the movies. Some five decks below, I hit the water and descended about twenty feet; it was a desperate struggle through oceans of green water to reach the surface and God's good fresh air.
The planes were pulling out of their dives-they had dropped nothing. They had spotted the waving prisoners in the water, circled around, dipped their wings, and disappeared. I saw a piece of bamboo floating in the water, pushing it; I slowly paddled toward shore, about one-half mile away. Lt. Toshino and Mr. Wata, still on the ship, were shooting prisoners possibly the "coup de grace" rather freely.
As we neared shore we were rounded up in a group in waist-deep water; there we remained all day-shivering from cold and fright.
We were in Subic Bay, a large and beautiful harbor, and the site of a large U.S. Naval base (Olangapo). We were surrounded with the jungles and mountains of Bataan. Cy Delong and I decided we would climb up on the sea wall and rest. As we were sitting there watching the group in the water nearby, a Jap guard came out of the woods behind us, his bayonet dripping with blood; he raised his rifle and put a shot straight through Cy's heart, his chest spouting blood.
I wasted no time in jumping into the water and losing myself in the
group.
Twice during the afternoon, Navy planes returned and bombed the ship with incendiaries-producing intense fires and many explosions.
Tennis Court: Toward evening, we were ordered to come ashore, each four prisoners to carry a wounded man. Dripping wet, we were herded through the forest for about one - half mile to a large tennis court on the naval base.
A count showed 1,340 survivors. We had lost 286 men. Again, there was not enough room on the court for everyone to sit down. As the sun went down it became very chilly. There was nothing to eat all day.
Even though it was a great relief to be off the ill-fated Oryoku Maru, nobody slept. The concrete surfaces became harder and harder as the hours wore on. The mosquitoes became very enthusiastic about our bare arms and legs.
Dee. 16, 1944: The warmth of the sun felt good. We improvised a hospital at one end of the court. We tore up clothing for bandages and broke up pieces of wood for splints. Many prisoners had serious burns: faces were swollen and blistered, eyes were closed by edema, and lips were puffed and cracked. Men who had swallowed oil were retching and vomiting. Some had inhaled fumes and were coughing uncontrollably. Fortunately the open air therapy was good for burns. Many survivors were covered with oil; a very real problem.
My friend Ed, the chaplain, in spite of his painful wound, quickly sized up the situation. He obtained a bar of soap, a safety razor and some cloth and water. Ed spent the day washing faces and shaving beards, trying to bring comfort to his patients.
The pleasant sun of the morning turned into a blistering heat in the afternoon; there was no shade. Again, no food!
The Japs were jittery themselves; they were thoroughly unhappy over the frequent bombings of the ship. We got blamed for the bombings, so no food!
The night was cold with occasional rain. Croupy coughs developed in all sections of the court. I felt I was growing thinner by the hour; my bony prominences were making an effort to poke through my skin.
Prisoners were extremely restless and angry; they kept up a constant chatter all night. The guards became very annoyed and threatened to shoot into the court. "Be quiet! Ve vill shoot in the dalk!"
Dee. 17, 1944: One sack of raw rice for 1340 prisoners-averaged out to four teaspoons per person. The night was very cold. I couldn't get my mind off the clothing, medical bag and Spam that I had abandoned on the ship. Three patients died during the night. The count was now 1,337.
Dee. 18th: Everyone had eye irritation; one sack of raw rice. A truck load of worn-out Japanese summer underwear arrived. As usual there was not enough to go around. Two died. The count was now 1,335.
Dec. 19th: The Oryoku Maru rolled on its side and sunk out of sight, ending the periodic explosions. One sack of rice, many croupy coughs. Bitter cold night-prisoners can't sleep. Much chattering; guards furious kept threatening to shoot. Two died. The count was now 1,333.
Dec. 20th: A Marine officer's arm was becoming gangrenous; Lt. Col. Jack Schwartz amputated the arm with only a jack knife and no anesthetic. The marine lived only a few hours before giving his last sigh of relief. One sack of rice. Three deaths. The count, 1,330.
Thirty trucks arrived; 681 prisoners were put on the trucks bound for the jail in San Fernando, Pampanga. Now there was more room to lie down. No sleeping; many hacking coughs.
Dec. 21st: The thirty trucks came back; our remaining group 648 - were put aboard for the trip to San Fernando. I got a good look at the Olongapo Naval Base as we passed through; it h d been completely destroyed. One death today. The count - 1,329.
A very hot and dusty trip. We were afraid the U.S. planes might discover the large clouds of dust raised by our convoy. We arrived at an empty theater, which offered cover and some protection from cold and mosquitoes.
Dec. 22, 1944: Received five sacks of cooked rice two cups each a real treat.
"They are probably fattening us up for who knows what!"
Toward evening, Mr. Wata, the Jap interpreter, entered the theater and inquired, "Who is too sick or too disabled to continue journey to Japan?"
He asked our medics to select fifteen disabled. We thought we were doing the fifteen disabled a favor, and actually envied them. They would be going back to Bilibid in Manila.
Wata took the prisoners away in a truck supposedly to Bilibid.
We learned that the Japs took the prisoners to the local cemetery, forced them to dig their own graves, and then bayoneted them, so they fell in the graves. A most miserable night.
Dec. 24th: Sunday - About 0900 hours, we were marched down the street barefooted and in rags to the railroad station. The Nips enjoyed prodding and goading us especially in front of the Filipinos to show the superiority of the yellow race. We arrived at a very badly damaged station. There were ten
small freight cars with an engine at each end standing on a siding; 131 prisoners were crowded into and on top of each car. There was barely room to stand in the cars; it was stifling; it was difficult to breathe the hot air; in fact there wasn't enough air to breathe.
It took nearly eighteen hours to go the one hundred miles north to the end of the line at San Fernando, La Union. On the way, I passed out. When I came to, I found myself lying on the floor with prisoners sitting on me. Fortunately I had found a crack in the floor through which I could breathe.
Dee. 25, 1944: Monday - We arrived at the station about 0300 hours after much thirst, hunger and misery. There were several dead on the floor of each car. We spent the remainder of the night on the gravel terrace about the station. Most prisoners had dysentery, so the area was soon filthy.
As the sun rose, we were lined up and marched through the streets. Japanese soldiers, hanging out many windows and doors, were laughing and joking as they spotted us odd characters passing by. We were taken to a school yard. The school house became our hospital. Every survivor was extremely weak. We were given a half cup of cooked rice for our Christmas dinner.
About 2000 hours, as we were settling down for the night, we were routed out for tenko (counting) - 1,308.
We then marched several miles to the beach. No one volunteered to help us medics carry the sick and wounded. We dug holes in the sand for windbreaks, and huddled together for warmth. It was too cold to sleep!
Dee. 26, 1944: About 0500 hours, we were divided into groups of one hundred, and each prisoner issued a rice ball. As usual, there wasn't enough to go around.
Our groups were taken one at a time out into Lingayen Gulf to bathe.
It was very pleasant while it lasted. The beach soon became very hot.
We received three teaspoons of water to drink. Two died. The count -
1,306.
Dee. 27, 1944: In a series of short marches, we crossed a small peninsula to a pier. Six large transports were anchored in the gulf. There were fourteen sunken vessels visible above water.
Landing barges were bringing about fifty Japanese soldiers at a time to the beach with many boxes of ammunition. The barges then came over to our pier to take on some fifty prisoners.
High waves made it very difficult to get on the barge; I had to jump down about ten feet onto the bouncing front deck. I was surprised that my "toothpick" legs didn't buckle under the jolt. We started out to a transport with a No.2 on the stack, the Brazil Maru. An air raid alarm sounded!
In the confusion our landing craft was directed to an empty transport marked No.1, the Enoura Maru. We were soon up the long ladder, and put in the forward hold; then we were divided into groups of twenty.
This time there was plenty of room and an abundance of fresh air, but it was very cold.
On the level above us were hundreds of sick and wounded Japanese soldiers returning to Japan. They were dressed in army caps, long white gowns, g-strings, and field shoes. No food; no water! But the Jap soldiers were eating their regular meals three times daily. Steel decks very hard! Unable to sleep.
Dee. 28, 1944: Thursday-Under way at dawn! Again, no food; no water;
Jap patients getting three regular meals on time. A few prisoners were
trying to trade jewelry for food. Most of us had nothing to trade.
Manure and flies were very bad.
When I attempted to stand, I blacked out. One died; we wrapped him in a straw mat, had a brief religious ceremony, and then slid him over the side. The count, (?) 1,305.
Col. Harold Johnson, our C.O., prohibited all trading with the Japs! A civilian gambler from Manila ignored his orders and obtained rice and candy for his friends. Angry prisoners scattered the rice and candy into the darkness.
December 29, 1944: Raining. Prisoners fought each other, trying to get their cups and mess gear under the drippings from the hatch covers to catch a few drops. Two spoons of rice.
1800 hours - Blasts of large guns on the deck. We crawled off the wooden planks on to the steel deck. Depth charges were exploding on each side of the ship for a thirty minute period. Then there was enthusiastic clapping by the Japs on the upper deck. It was announced: "Japanese Impeliar Navy has sunk Amelican submaline!" Banzai/ Banzai/ Banzai/
At 2000 we dropped anchor. There was a full moon. Pens, rings and mess gear were being traded for cigarettes or water. It was a very cold night.
Hips and spines were becoming extremely sore-attempting to poke through the skin.
December 30: The sea was very rough. Our empty ship,
floating high, pitched and pounded. Half cup of rice; several spoons of water.
2000 hours - shelling and depth charges for half hour. During the night a Japanese soldier fell from the upper deck into our hold killed by the fall. This added much to the usual confusion. Intermittent depth charges all night as our ship dashed and pounded across the open sea toward Formosa.
Dee. 31, 1944: Sunday-No food; half cup of water! Col. Johnson told
Mr. Wata: "If we don't get food, we will all die!"
Mr. Wata responded: "Evelbody must die! This is no time for
sympathy!"
The sea was very rough and very cold! During the night we entered a land-locked harbor-Takao in Formosa. It was New Year's Eve! The old bewhiskered rabbi and farmer, Aaron Kliatchko died. The count, (?) 1,304
Jan. 1, 1945: We dared to think that things might get better in "forty-five." We began to hear, "Still alive in 'forty-five!'" Issued five moldy "hardtack" type biscuits.
The prisoners were now like animals in a cage begging for food and cigarettes. The Japs couldn't understand how the Americans could expend so much energy jumping for cigarettes, when they were supposedly very weak. Three-quarters of a cup of water (a real treat). Bitter cold. We were extremely hungry, thirsty and cold. Our bodies were very sore and we were unable to sleep.
Old John "The Thief," died. The count, (?) 1,303.
Jan. 2, 1945: The harbor was surrounded by high, snow covered mountains; we were in southern Formosa. The Japanese patients were taken out of the holds; their areas were fumigated by American soldiers-hoping to get something to eat in return for their work.
Col. Johnson again requested food. Mr. Wata answered: "United States submalines sink arr Japanese food ships! Vely solly!"
Many prisoners continued to scramble around the hold grabbing for cigarettes thrown down from the deck above; they were more addicted to tobacco than food. Their prancing around made it more difficult for us to convince the Japanese that we were hungry and thirsty.
Received two-thirds cup of rice and one teaspoon of dried fish. No water! A bitter cold night! Much coughing! Some prisoners were acting crazy; doing weird and unpredictable things. An officer was assigned to guard the stairway so none of these crazy
persons would try to escape and cause an incident.
Jan. 3rd, 1945: 0800-There was an air-raid alarm! It was followed by rapid firing from the deck for about two hours; much running about on the deck above. Several planes flew low over the harbor probably observing. No food; no water!
When I tried to stand, I blacked out! Many prisoners were coughing, and suffering from cramps and dysentery. It was a very cold night. The Japs worked all night loading the ship.
Jan. 5: In the evening, as we were trying to get to sleep, several of us were showered with 11 liquid, which tasted like battery acid. "What were the Japs up to now?" The liquid proved to be the contents of a latrine bucket; the prisoner, carrying the bucket to the deck, was so weak, he spilled it. When we asked the guards for some sea water to clean ourselves off, they just laughed.
I volunteered to take guard duty at the stairway so I wouldn't freeze to death.
Jan. 6th: It was bitter cold! We were still barefooted and wearing the summer clothing received at the Olongapo Naval Base in the Philippines. The guards were shivering in spite of heavy overcoats. No food; no water!
We were taken up on deck, then down a long ladder to scows and moved out into the harbor. Some prisoners were grabbing dirty and rotten vegetables floating in the filthy water. Some even filled their canteens with sea water.
In a few minutes, our scow pulled up to transport No.2, the Brazil Maru. We were soon up the ladder and put in the second hold with the other prisoners - all 1,273 of us. We were told that there had been thirty deaths on the Brazil Maru. We were divided into groups of twenty. Again it was very crowded; much confusion, much cursing.
Half cup of rice; a quarter cup of thin cabbage soup. A miserable night.
Jan. 7, 1945: We started a hospital on the upper deck and moved some fifty dysentery cases into it. The Japs gave us some dysentery medicine-looked like pellets of gunpowder. Flies were very bad. Four died! Tenko (?) 1,262.
Jan. 8th: Hatch covers were moved above us admitting dazzling light and extreme cold. All prisoners were moved off from the lower deck; about 473 into the forward hold, and about 789 on to the upper deck of our hold; again it was very crowded.
Thirty-seven English and Dutch prisoners were taken off the ship-to be transferred to a P.O.W. camp in Formosa.
Winches lowered many sacks of sugar into the lower hold. Mr. Wata warned us, "If you touch any sugal, you vill be hollibly shot!"
Jan. 9th, 1945: At daybreak, we heard many planes followed by anti-aircraft fire in the distance. Very soon, planes were overhead! There was panic in our hold. Men were trying to get off the wooden planks on to the steel decks. A young captain stood up and shouted, "Everybody stay put! You are as safe in one place as another!"
A direct hit produced a blinding and deafening explosion nearby; a tremendous orange flash followed by pandemonium.
Hatch covers above came crashing down into the bilge, dropping many prisoners thirty to forty feet below. There were screams, cries, groans, and oaths! The air was filled with dust and dirt. Wounded were soon being dragged into our improvised hospital; many with fractures, shrapnel wounds, all covered with dirt.
Just as we were getting the wounded cases moved into the hospital and the dysentery cases out, back came the planes. When it was over we had lost several of our doctors. Col. Riney Craig, Major Mack Williams and I were the only doctors still active. We removed the clothing from thirty dead to give to those still living. No food! No water! Open hatches aggravated the bitter cold night.
Jan. 10, 1945: We worked on the wounded all morning. In the afternoon my attention was called to a shrapnel-made gash in the forward bulkhead of our hold. I looked through into the forward hold and witnessed the most horrible sight of my life.
There were three hundred mangled Americans piled some three deep the result of a direct bomb hit. At the sides of the hold, a few wounded were sitting and standing dazed and motionless. The Japs had no compassion at all they would not let us enter the forward hold to help in any way.
Jan. 11, 1945: Finally, two days after the bombing, several masked and white robed Jap soldiers gallantly descended the ladders into our hold, and painted mercurochrome on minor wounds. They would not look at the serious wounds.
The Japs wound not enter the forward hold. Only God knew what suffering was going on there. Jap laborers pounded wooden
[image018.jpg]
wedges into the holes in the sides of the ship. Water in the forward hole was up to the flooring.
The night was bitter cold; my feet had lost all feeling. There were
endless groans and screams from the wounded and crazed.
Jan. 12, 1945: Forty-five bodies in our hold were tied to lines to be lifted to the deck. I can never forget the grotesque positions some of the bodies assumed as they were raised. Then the winches lifted 150 bodies out of the forward hold and placed them on a scow beside the ship.
One cup of rice! No water! Not even rice for the survivors in the forward hold.
Jan. 13, 1945: 150 more bodies winched out of the forward hold. We heard that the dead were taken to a Chinese cemetery near the beach and cremated.
In the afternoon, our sick and wounded were raised on ropes. The rest of us climbed the long ladders and sat on the deck waiting our turn to get on a small platform to be lifted; twenty at a time; then dropped at a dizzy speed to a small scow.
There were many dead on the scow; among them, my old guerrilla chieftain, Col. Everett Warner, of Pikesville, Md., who had died just as he predicted, "Like a rat in a hole!" It made me ill to look at my good friend his face was covered with large blood blisters but I wanted that one last look. I had always had much respect for this dedicated soldier, a Freedom Fighter!
Enoura Maru: We were quickly taken over to the ship we had been on earlier No. 1, the Enoura Maru and were soon pulling each other up the long ladder. We were all placed in the same hold just aft the superstructure.
Ed Nagel, John Shock, Cary Smith, and Wade Cothran were crowded into a very dirty bay with me; it was filled with coal dust. We huddled next to the coal containers to preserve any warmth in our bodies. One-quarter cup of rice; no water!
Thirty bodies were quickly piled up by the stairs after being stripped of their clothing to be used by the living. The count, (?) 924.
Jan. 14, 1945: Sunday - At dawn, we moved out of the harbor in a convoy of six or seven ships. Everyone had dysentery. The latrines were two boxes hung over the side of the ship. Only two persons were allowed on the deck at a time. Many were too weak to climb the stairs. The floor soon became filthy, making walking in bare feet very unpleasant.
Our ship zigzagged generally north at a speed of about eight knots.
One-quarter cup of rice; no water! Another thirty prisoners died.
Toward evening, medics carried the bodies to the deck; after a short
service by the strongest chaplain, the bodies were slid into the sea.
The count, (?) 894.
Jan. 15, 1945: The night had been extremely cold; I had lost all feeling in my feet. I had no desire to freeze to death; in fact I had volunteered for the Philippines because I enjoyed warm weather. We were all becoming extremely dehydrated; urination became very painful. One cup of rice; no water (4th day). The count, (?) 864.
Jan. 16, 1945: Several inches of snow on the deck. Some men were .going down into the hold to get sugar. It was very difficult to swallow the sugar without water.
Cursing and stealing were now a way of life. Anchored all night. The count, (?) 834.
Jan. 17, 1945: I was bitter cold; we were hibernating-huddled close together-not moving any more than necessary; we were saving our energy. One-quarter cup of rice; no water (6th day): Usual deaths. The count, (?) 804.
We were very discouraged; we believed the end could not be far away.
Anchored all night!
Jan. 18, 1945: Very cold! The sea has turned muddy (? Yellow Sea). We were passing many barren, mountainous islands to the starboard with an occasional lighthouse. One-quarter cup of rice; twelve teaspoons of water. Anchored at night. Thirty-two died. The count, (?) 772.
Jan. 19, 1945: We were underway at dawn-for three hours then stopped! We were alongside a large transport badly humped up amidships. It had been torpedoed! Many Jap soldiers were standing on the deck in their overcoats, shivering.
We spent most of the day waiting while seamen attempted to get a cable aboard the stricken vessel. Finally underway making only three knots. One-half cup of rice; twelve spoons of water. Many have died. The count, (?) 740. Anchored at night. Very cold! Brrrr!
Jan. 20, 1945: Moving north all day very slowly. Major Kirchner, an Army medic, died in the next bay (he had had a leg broken during the bombing of January 9th). Thirty died. The count, (?) 710.
January 21, 1945: Sea has turned green. Zigzagged generally
north. The cable to the crippled vessel snapped; we drifted for hours while seamen spliced it. One cup of rice; several spoons of water. Usual dead. The count, (?) 680.
Jan. 22, 1945: Monday - Moved north for ten hours towing our albatross. Major Wade Cothran died in his sleep-next to me. I was able to get his sweater, a big help in keeping the cold out. Usual deaths. The count, (?) 650.
Jan. 23, 1945: Extremely cold; had been snowing all night. Col. Shock, Dental Officer, died in our bay. He had been very bitter. He thought the doctors had not given him the proper care. He could not have been more right! Other friends dying: Cmdr. Josses, USN medic, Maj. Horace Greely, Capt Kornblum, Army dentist. The count, (?) 620.
Jan. 24, 1945: Snowing and bitter cold. The ship was making very poor time; life was slowly ebbing away.
Jan. 25, 1945: Extremely cold! Col. Fred Saint of the Army Engineer Corps died. He had been wounded in the Jan. 9th bombing. One-quarter cup of rice; six spoons of water.
Jan. 26, 1945: Coooold! Many have died! There were only three chaplains alive of twenty-three starting the trip. The medical service had completely evaporated. Major "Mac" Williams was the only medic still on his feet.
We passed another convoy going south. One-quarter cup of rice; no water! The count, (?) 555.
Jan. 27th: Anchored all day! Any chance of survival is slowly slipping away. I was so weak, it was impossible to move around. Snow covered islands around us were beautiful. One-quarter cup of rice; six spoons of water. The count, (537).
Jan. 28th: We were underway at dawn; many depth charges had been dropped during the night. One-quarter cup of rice; no water! The count, (?) 517.
Chapter X
JAPAN!
Jan. 29, 1945: Anchored at dawn in the harbor of Moji on the most southerly island of Japan, Kyushu. One-quarter cup of rice twice during day; six teaspoons of water. The count, (?) 497.
1129 had died since we departed from Manila on December 13th, 1944, an average of twenty-four deaths each day; 463 had
died since we left Takao Harbor on Formosa on Jan. 14, 1945, an average of thirty deaths each day.
Jan. 30, 1945: We were issued cotton army clothing and tennis shoes. A senior Japanese officer boarded the ship after observing the debilitated prisoners; lingering close to death; he slapped Lt. Toshino and Mr. Wata.
The surviving derelicts teetering between life and death, attempted to climb the ladder to the snow covered deck of the Enoura Maru.
As we debarked in six inches of snow and 20°F., masked Japanese soldiers in white gowns sprayed us with a carbolic acid solution, adding to our misery.
Eventually, those prisoners who could still stand up were divided into 3 groups:
Group I: 100 prisoners to Camp 3 (Tobato).
Group II: 192 prisoners to Camp 1 (Kashi).
Group III: 95 prisoners to Camp 17 (Omuta).
Group IV (the hospital group): 110 prisoners - unable to walk, sat or lay in the snow all day. I tried to get a drink of water, but found the faucets frozen. In desperation, I ate snow.
About 2100, five small charcoal-burning ambulances arrived. Twenty two
Americans were crowded into each ambulance.
Japanese Prisoner of War Hospital - Moji
We turned into a gateway and were promptly challenged by a Jap sentry. After several minutes of excited guttural grunts and groans, we moved into the compound and were unloaded. Our new home was a low and flimsy frame building without heat. Inside, we were assigned straw mats on the floor, and were quickly under six cotton blankets and still cold. Each received a small binto box containing rice and salty fish. I tried to sleep, but couldn't. All of the events of the last seven weeks were vividly going through my mind.
Feb. 2, 45: My friend, Chaplain Ed Nagel, the missionary from Baguio, died. He had gradually grown weaker following his wound in the thigh on Dee. 14th, 1944 until he passed away in his sleep. I had just lost my good "Buddy" he had been an excellent friend; I would miss Ed.
Feb. 3, 45: Many patients were dying; the Japs told us they had
ordered Red Cross packages, but they never arrived.
Joe Ganahl, the Northern Luzon Force, told me, "I feel as weak as a
kitten!" and proceeded to lay down and die.
The food set-up was going from bad to worse. Half-cup of soup twice
daily. Wt. 80 lbs.
Feb. 13, 45: Severe pains in my legs and feet. Could be beriberi, vascular disease or frost bite, or all three. Believed gangrene was setting in.
Feb. 16,45: Awakened, no feeling in my feet at all. Believed the end must be near. Wrote Judy a final note, telling her I loved her and didn't want to leave her. I gave the note to Chaplain Taylor to be delivered after the war.
The following days were very painful.
Mar. 1, 45: Loaded into charcoal-burning ambulances and taken to the railroad station. Spent the day riding on coaches, arriving at our destination about dark.
Fukuoka Camp #22
Walked up a steep hill for half a mile, hanging heavily on an agreeable Jap guard. Greeted by jolly Australian prisoners; their language was very "bloody," but they were good guys, serving us hot soup and Red Cross coffee, saved from their own rations. They got us blankets and hot water bottles.
Mar. 2, 45: The Aussies took us down to the Jap pool (a 15' x 15' vat), and gave a hot bath-and washed our lousy clothes.
Mar. 15, 45: Now only 34 of our original hospital group alive. Air raids becoming very frequent, especially at night; there were sirens in many directions. We could hear high-flying planes; in the distance we could hear heavy bombing. Food was becoming very scarce. The 'In Charge' came by and told me: "You have given up; you are yellow; get up and walk around!"
It made me mad probably just what I needed.
April 1, 45: I seemed a little stronger; could take several steps, but each step caused much "bloody" pain. The American patients
are all confined to bed. wt. 90 lbs.
Aussies give us our weekly baths, the highlight of each week.
My skin was rough and scaly - pellagra; my feet were numb and swollen - beriberi. I had lost much of my body hair. My beard, normally heavy, was thin and silky - probably due to changes in the sex hormones.
April 10, 45: Air raids frequent and heavy; cities being badly crippled. Everybody was jittery. The skimpy meals; very irregular.
April 12, 45: With help of Dudley Wilkinson of Australia, I was learning to walk, much like a baby. It caused much pain in every muscle moved. Ten steps and I was exhausted.
Apr. 25, 45: The 24 remaining patients and several guards were loaded on a truck. We passed through beautiful mountain country; people were working their small farms. Arrived at the Port of Fukuoka about noon. Other groups of Americans were coming in; I could see Major John Raulston and Lt. George Chamberlain.
About dark each group was marched to a pier; waiting a couple hours we boarded a rather streamlined 2 stack cruiser. I was carried one deck below and laid on a mat. The warmth of the cabin was very welcome. Major "Mac" Williams gave me an injection. Later, he told me he thought I was dying.
Major Tom Smothers, on the litter next to me, died. He was the
father of Tommy and Dick Smothers, the comedians.
Apr. 26, 45: Arrived in Pusan, Korea in the afternoon. Carried
about a mile to a theater, where we spent the night. Tenko 334.
Apr. 27, 45: About 0800, our group was marched (I was carried by a British prisoner) to the rail station. We were soon aboard a second class coach.
Was given a binto box: rice and very salty fish, causing great thirst. Chinese men were sleeping all over the coach: floor, seats and even luggage racks. Korea was mountainous and beautiful; many trees and plants were in bloom.
Passed the Yalu River - very muddy as it flowed into the Yellow Sea.
Apr. 29, 45: Arrived in Mukden, Manchuria (over a million population). (The Manchu's once conquered and ruled the vast Chinese Empire, having overthrown the Ming Dynasty and set up the Ch'ing Dynasty, from which the name China evolved. During this period, the Great Wall was built).
Chapter XI
Camp Hoten, Mukden, Manchuria
I was carried to the prison hospital. This was the Emperor of Japan's birthday. We each received a cookie. At one end of the ward was a large cylindrical Russian stove; we received one scuttle of coal per day; when it was gone, we froze.
Mukden was extremely cold; had only two seasons: winter and the
Fourth of July. Piled the blankets over my head and shivered.
Another problem; the air was very dry; our noses became irritated and uncomfortable. Old timers threw pails of water on the floors, putting moisture back into the air.
From the second floor, we could see over the high stone wall; we were in a factory area. The healthy prisoners had to work in the neighboring factories, making munitions, tools and rope. When they would return each night, we got the latest rumors from the Chinese workers: "Mussolini had been hung!"
In Mukden we felt isolated from the rest of the world and even the
war; it wasn't all bad!
Capt. Herbst of Canton, Ohio, our medic, and the Japanese doctor, Juro
Oki of Tokyo, got me small amounts of dysentery medicine.
The first weeks in the hospital were spent hibernating, trying to gain strength. I was extremely fortunate to have a good friend, Major (Honest John) Raulston, from Richard City, Tennessee, who helped me in many ways, while I was incapacitated. .
May 7, 45: My weight was up to 100 lbs. Discharged from the
hospital.
Major Stanley Hankins was American C.O. of the Camp, and Col.
Matsuda, the Japanese C.O. He ran one of the better camps.
May 10, 45: My fortieth birthday; I was ready for "Life to Begin!"
Wt. 103 lbs.
May 17, 45: Rumors that Germany had surrendered on May 7th; May 8th
called V.E. Day.
May 20, 45: The generals and colonels formerly stationed in the Philippines, arrived in camp from Sian, Manchuria. The generals included Wainwright, King, Moore, Parker, Sharp and Jones as well as Sir Arthur Percival from Singapore. The colonels were Selleck, Horan, Balsa, Brauner, Aldridge, Cooper and Gillespie. All were optimistic, believing they were on their way home.
The following paragraphs were from Col. James Gillespie's Report of
World War II in the Far East:
"As we marched into the Camp, many prisoners stood about with some
curiosity watching our arrival.
"I happened to glance up at someone standing near the hospital. He was literally skin and bones - extremely emaciated, with a pale face that I knew I had seen before; his lower limbs were greatly swollen; as I passed within three feet of him, his identity flashed into my mind. It was Major Eugene Jacobs; he had served with me at the Sternberg Army Hospital in Manila.
"In a few days I was to hear from Jacobs, one of 300 survivors of the
Oryoku Maru, the most horrible story of suffering by prisoners during
World War II, in which 50% of the medical personnel serving in
Sternberg Hospital, and General Hospital No.2 on Bataan, were wiped
out from bombings and privations."
Col. Gillespie became the new hospital commander.
May 25, 45: Able to shuffle outside the building and sit in the sunshine, visiting with Army friends - made sketches of several. By moving to different of the camp, I made an accurate map of the camp, as seen from the air.
Jun. 1, 45: Had interesting visits with British, Australian and Dutch prisoners; made sketches of several. Enjoyed trading U.S. Army buttons for their Regimental buttons. Still very weak; called the "Walking ghost!" Wt. 106 lbs.
Jun. 15, 45: Rumors that MacArthur had taken Okinawa with big loss of life.
Jul. 1, 45: Spent much time sitting alone in the yard, soaking up the sun and thinking of Judy-making plans for the "Peace" that seemed to be coming.
Aug. 9, 45: Rumors of a conference in Berlin: that an ultimatum given to Japan. Air raid alarm during night; no bombing near by.
Aug. 10, 45: Rumors the U.S. had dropped an Adam bomb on Hiroshima on August 6th with much devastation. Rumors Russia had declared war on Japan on August 8th; Russians were anxious to share the Spoils of War. Planes overhead very active; no bombs.
Aug. 12, 45: Japanese soldiers all wearing battle dress and carrying packs on their backs. Camouflaged trucks and tanks on the streets.
Aug. 13, 45: Rumors that a second Adam bomb was dropped on Nagasaki, and that Russia was invading Manchuria.
Aug. 16,45: Rumors that Japan had surrendered on the 14th.
Cooks are baking extra corn buns.
Rumors that prisoners would be marched to Outer Mongolia (Gobi
Desert) to prevent recapture. "Big Deal!"
A big bomber (B-29) flew over camp dropping parachutes just outside camp. Six paratroopers (O.S.S.) led by an Army Medic, Major LaMar, came into camp carrying parachutes, radios, first aid boxes, etc. They went directly to the hospital, where they were secluded. Everyone concluded the war must be over. It hadn't ended as we had expected. Mukden was quiet; no shooting.