My Hitch in Hell
Page 30
Another way of staying healthy was to keep mentally active. I developed friendships with those men who could hold an intelligent conversation and who had experiences to relate and share. Keeping my mind active meant taking time away from sleeping and joining with others in a discussion group. One of our group’s most lively discussions involved developing breakfast, lunch, and dinner menus, including recipes for all of the main dishes. By the end of the war, we had meals planned for more than 350 days. The men who wanted to keep mentally alert were also the ones who had a positive attitude toward life. Those negative men who had refused to exercise their minds had to be left to their own little world. I could not afford the time or energy to be with them.
In recounting my survival plan, the fourth step was the need to develop “survival smarts.” It was important to have a “feel” for the situation at hand. Having the smarts meant paying attention to a wide variety of telltale events and individual traits to gauge how to act. For example, knowing when to get into line first and when being last would be better saved me from beatings. Many times rushing to get in line first would have given the guards a longer period of time to harass or beat me. Also, sometimes being first meant that I better understood what they wanted me to do, helping me to avoid abuse. Of course, being last was no assurance of better treatment, for the guards would hit me if they thought I was deliberately taking my time.
Finally, in looking back, I determined the fifth step of the survival plan was the most important: I had to know when to apply the other four steps.
On those days when the doctors or nurses had plans for me, they would pull and push me all over the hospital from the X-ray room to the examining room and to the operating room. Everything they did was in an attempt to give me a life without constant pain and at the same time allow me the full use of my arms and legs.
After three months of operations, treatments, and soul searching, I finally asked when I could be discharged. I just wanted to go home, to start my formal education, and to get on with my life. The chief of staff looked at me and said, “You want to be discharged? Why didn’t you say so? How about tomorrow?” I smiled. Tomorrow would do.
On June 30, 1946, I was honorably discharged from the service and was ready to start my new life as a civilian. My goal was to practice what I preached: enjoy today and look forward to tomorrow, and establish priorities, with happiness as the top priority.
CHAPTER 21
JAPAN REVISITED
In the decades after my return, hundreds of people have asked me what brought me home. I sensed that what they really wanted to know was whether some POWs survived because their overall health was better than others', or they followed a particular lifestyle, or they had positive attitudes. Certainly luck—being in the right place at the right time and not being in the wrong place at the wrong time—played an important role in my survival. In general, however, I realized that much of the luck I had, I had to make myself. My positive attitude, my dreams, and my goals all combined to enable me to endure and ultimately to survive.
People have also asked me how I currently feel about the Japanese. In the mid-1990s, it has been fifty years since those heinous days I spent as a prisoner of war. Back then I hated the Japanese who beat me. I despised the guards on the march. They were inhumane barbarians, one and all; but I was never able to hate just for the sake of hating. I had to have a reason. Thus, I did not then and do not now detest the Japanese as a people.
In 1988, I had the opportunity to visit Japan, which was a wonderful experience for someone with my background. In 1968, when my wife and I were living in San Diego, a mix-up in housing occurred for a transfer student from Japan. I agreed to let the young man stay with us just for the weekend, but the weekend lasted for ninety-five days. We had dozens of unusual experiences. When we first met, for example, I greeted him in his language. He smiled and asked where I had learned Japanese. When I told him I was a guest of the Japanese army for almost four years during World War II, his face turned pale. Then with a quick smile, he said, “I wonder how I’ll sleep tonight?” Then he quickly said to my wife, “Don’t learn Japanese from him. He speaks gutter Japanese, learned from the poorly educated men in the coal mine.” Our whole family became close friends with our newfound, extroverted Japanese boy.
After our Japanese student returned home, we corresponded regularly for the next twenty years. Then one day in 1988, I received a phone call from Japan from our good friend, Toru Tasaka San. He was going to get married and asked if my wife and I would be his guests at the wedding. We immediately accepted.
So, back I went to Japan, where the soldiers had killed my friends and tortured me and where I was held prisoner in inhumane conditions for three and a half years. Memories and emotions flooded over me. My wife and I were more than a little apprehensive of both what my reaction would be and how we would be received by the Japanese. Our fears, however, were soon put to rest. Toru met us at the airplane and, with tears in his eyes, said, “Welcome to Japan, my American mama and papa.”
Toru took us by cab to a hotel in Tokyo, where he had reserved a room for us. The following morning he arrived at the hotel with his fiancee and his mother. None of his wedding party—his family, his bride’s family, or his bride—spoke English. After the formal introductions were made his mother, who was about four feet six inches tall, bowed politely to us and gave us a bag full of gifts. She then said in Japanese, which Toru interpreted for us, “Thank you for taking my son into your house and making him a part of your family.” I returned the bow and said in Japanese, “Arigato goraimasu” (thank you so kindly). I shook from happiness. I was glad that I could greet a Japanese person without feeling hatred or wishing for revenge.
Later that day the religious Shinto wedding ceremony took place, and we were the only Caucasians present. We felt quite honored when we found out that only family members are invited to the formal wedding. After the pictures were taken, we went into the ballroom for the wedding banquet. There were about eighty-five guests, seventy of which were men, and once again, we were the only non-Asians. During the dinner, Toru asked me if I would say a few words to the guests. I spoke hesitantly in the language I had learned from the Japanese who had been the guards in camp and laborers in the coal mine. I knew I did not say the words perfectly, but my spirit was apparent. I said it was time to forget the past and focus on the future, and today we could start. As I concluded I said, “Anatawa tomodachi, yeroshi” (you are my friends, I am happy, very good). All the guests stood and applauded. Over the sound of the applause, I heard many of the men say, “Yeroshi do.” It gave me chills to realize that we were able to see each other as friends, despite our different experiences during World War II.
Later that night we were invited to a party with the bride and groom and all of their young friends. First, we went to one nightclub for drinks, dancing, and of course karaoke, and then after about two hours, we moved along to another night spot. The young people, having been told of my experiences in Japan during the war, asked me to say something. By this time I was feeling quite good, so I told a few stories about Toru in the United States. In one anecdote, I told them how I gave Toru a haircut, and he said he could not believe he was allowing an ex-POW to hold a pair of long, sharp scissors against his neck. We all laughed, and when I was through, they all stood up, applauded, and hollered, “Yeroshi!”
The following day, the bride and groom informed us that we were going to accompany them on their honeymoon. This came as a bit of a surprise, but my wife and I went along. The four of us spent two weeks driving all over Japan, staying in traditional Japanese inns, and seeing the country as if we were royalty. Every night after our “honeymoon bath,” which consisted of each couple going into their own bathing room, then washing ourselves with soap, and then rinsing with hot water taken from the tub. Only then would we enter the hot tub and soak in the 107-degree water. After soaking for about fifteen minutes, we would then dry off, put a robe around us, and return to our slee
ping room. It was then that Toru and his wife would come into our room and give us a Japanese massage, he with me, and his wife with my wife.
After two weeks of vacationing all over Japan, the memorable honeymoon finally was over. Every day I would offer to pay for the room, the food, or the gasoline, but Toru would only say, “Later.” When we finally had to say good-bye, I once again tried to pay our share of the expenses. Toru refused to accept one cent. This trip, he said, was his way of repaying us for our kindness to him when he was in the United States. I felt that, somehow, my painful war wounds and memories had truly begun to vanish.
Another often asked question concern my feelings about the use of atomic bombs at Hiroshima and Nagasaki. I can only say that one horror of war is that not only soldiers get killed, but many times innocent civilians become casualties. In this case, although not all the people of Japan wanted war, they all had to live under the wartime rules. As for me, the atomic bomb surely saved my life, as I do not believe I could have survived working in the coal mine much longer. More important, most experts from both the United States and Japan agree that had the war continued, it would have taken at least another million lives on both sides. Dropping the atomic bombs ended this long, terrible war. In the long run, I believe using the bomb was the best thing to do for the most people and for that particular period of time.
I was not aware of harboring any animosity against the Japanese all these past years, but when I put together my notes and stirred up my memories to write this manuscript, I felt the hot flush of hatred come over me once again. With each page I wrote, I recalled events that made my eyes blur with tears and caused me to have nightmares once again. I often could not control my emotions, but I soon realized that I was not angry with all Japanese people, only those who deprived me of my dignity and of my health.
My life today is a reflection of what I learned through my experiences as a prisoner of war. I have a positive attitude, and I set goals, goals that are attainable, about life. Moreover, if I want something badly enough, I know I can achieve it by trying hard enough. After many fulfilling years of work in the business world and as an academician, I still look forward to each day, and I still plan for my tomorrows.
On February 19, 1945, as Gen. Douglas Mac Arthur fought to liberate the Philippines, he made the following statement to the press:
Bataan, along with Corregidor, the citadel of its external defense, made possible all that has happened here today. History, I am sure, will record it as one of the decisive battles of the world. Its long, protracted struggle enabled the United Nations to gather strength to resist in the Pacific. Had it not held out, Australia would have fallen with incalculable results.
Our triumphs of today belong equally to that dead army. Its heroism and sacrifice have been fully acclaimed but the great strategic results of that mighty defense are only now becoming fully apparent. The Bataan garrison was destroyed due to its dreadful handicaps, but no army in history more thoroughly accomplished its mission. Let no man henceforth speak of it other than as a magnificent victory.
My positive attitude has enabled me to accept these words and to exorcise the demons of despair that once distressed me. I am now able to live with myself, knowing that, although I once surrendered, I did not fail my country.
APPENDIX
MEMBERS OF COMPANY B AND THOSE ATTACHED TO HEADQUARTERS COMPANY OF THE 192d TANK BATTALION WHO DID NOT RETURN
From December 7, 1941, to September 15, 1945
Based on the records of Lt. Jacques V. Merrifield, aide-de-camp, and the
U. S. War Department
(I apologize for any name unintentionally omitted or listed in error.)
INDEX
Allison, E. A., 211
American prisoners of war
at Cabanatuan, 107–13
at Camp 17: see Camp 17
at Camp O’Donnell, 65–73
homosexuals among, 152
inventiveness of, 154
in Japan, 122–85
in the Philippines, 42–64, 65–73, 107–13
propaganda for, 144
regulations for, 59
sickness among, 45, 67–68
treatment of, 82, 87–90, 189–90
Angel Island, 12
Anti-Semitism, 166
Armada, CpL, 22
Australian prisoners of war, in Japan, 133
Bainbridge, James A., 211
Balanga, Philippines, 54–55
Ball, John E., 211
Bardowski, Zenon (“Bud”), 21
Baron Mitsui, 152
Bashleban, Jim, 42, 175
Bataan, 30–34
casualties at, 31, 43
fall of, 35–41
return to, 190–91
sickness and devastation at, 45
women at, 67
Bataan Death March, 42–64, 190
American civilian knowledge of the, 197–98
casualties of the, 49–51, 197
condition of men on, 45
duration of, 57
Japanese brutality on, 48, 50–52, 55, 57–58, 60–61
Bennett, Charles, 211
Beri-beri, 117
Black, Bertrum, 211
Bloomfield, Kenneth, 211
Boni, Daniel J., 211
Brittan, Lewis, 3, 29
aboard the Hugh Scott, 14
at Camp O’Donnell, 71–73
postwar reunion with Tenney, 188
Bronge, Robert, 53, 104, 211
death of, 54
Brown, Laprade D., 211
Brown, W. L, 211
Bruni, Fred T., 211
Burholt, Arthur V., 211
Burns, William E., 211
Bushaw, John F. A., 212
Bushido Code, 50
Byars, Frank, 212
Cabanatuan, Philippines, 44. See also Camp Cabanatuan
casualties at, 211, 212, 213
Cahill, James A., 212
Cambell, Willard, 212
Camp 17, 125–76
avoiding work at, 138–41
Chanukah celebration at, 166
desalting plant at, 154
entertainment at, 149–53
getting food at, 143, 154
nail pushers at, 142
raffles at, 155–56
reputation of, 189–90
tuberculosis in, 138
U.S. bombing of, 170
Camp Cabanatuan, 107–13
Corregidor defenders at, 109
description of, 107–8
farming at, 110–11
Z ward at, 107
Camp Number 1, 109
Camp Number 3, 109
Camp O’Donnell, 45, 65–73
burials at, 69–70
casualties at, 212, 213
escape from, 76–77
hospital at, 68
number of prisoners at, 71
sickness at, 67–68, 92
Z ward at, 68
Camp Polk, Louisiana, 10
Canfield, E. C, 193
Canopus, meals aboard the, 29–30
Capas, Philippines, 61
Chicago Tribune, 175
Chinese prisoners of war, in Japan, 133
Cigoi, Walter R, 53, 71, 104, 212
death of, 54
Clark Field, Phillipines, bombing of, 1, 20–22
Colter, Harley W., 212
Corps of Engineers, 25
Corr, Charles, 212
Corregidor, Philippines, 36
prisoners from, 44–45, 109
surrender at, 38
women at, 67
Danca, Sgt. Richard E., 3, 212
Dawn of the Philippines, 63
Deckert, Henry J., 24, 212
Dee, G. H., 193
Dettmer, Donald A., 212
Dinalupihan, Philippines, 80
Dysentery, 67–68
Edwards, Al, 212
Ehrhardt, Clyde D., 212
Eldridge, D. J., 212
Emanuel, J. W., 193
&n
bsp; Emperor Jimmu, 31
English prisoners of war, in Japan, 133
Filipinos, 60, 62, 79
attitude toward USAFFE, 55, 62
guerrilla activity of, 81
Flores, Felix, 212
Formosa, 20
Fort Stotsenburg, Philippines, 17
bombing of, 21
message from, 18
Frisco Lookout, 193
Fryziuk, Nick, 24
Garr, C. E., 212
Germany, military pact with Japan, 8
Gorr, Alex, 212
Graff, R. W., 212
Green, Dwight H., 39
Griffin, James, 212
Griswald, Jack, 212
Hanes, Capt. Donald, 12, 14, 212
Hawaii, 14–16
Hay, John, 212
Health committee, 152, 154
Heilig, Roger J., 212
Hepburn, Andrew, 212
Heuill, Charles, 212
Hewlett, Dr. Thomas, 93, 132, 154
death of, 168
punishment of, 167–68
Hildebrandt, Warren, 212
Hiroshima, bombing of, 172
Holland, Warren, 212
Homma, Gen. Masaharu, 40, 41
Hugh L. Scott, 14
Humphries, Quincy, 212
Hurd, Willie S., 212
Illinois National Guard, Maywood, 3
Italy, military pact with Japan, 8
Ivins, F. R, 193
Jannisch, Fredd, 212
Japan, 122–85
aggression of, 8
anti-Semitism in, 166
military pact with Germany and Italy, 8
postwar visit to, 207–10
U.S. embargo against, 15
Japanese civilians
anti-Semitism of, 166
bartering with the, 128–29, 132–33, 141–43
psychological manipulation of, 128–29
violence of, 164
Japanese Imperial Army, 35
attitude toward death, 32
brutality of, 82, 87–89, 190
on Bataan Death March, 48, 50–52, 55, 57–58
at Palawan camp, 189
on handling of war prisoners, 59
propanganda of, 144
regulations, 59
torture tactics of, 87–90