A Song For Lisa

by Clifton La Bree

  The tight column of Rangers cleared the heavier ground vegetation and found themselves under the relatively open canopy of a coconut plantation of widely spaced trees. Three men in dark clothing suddenly blocked Jonathon’s inland movement. He clicked the safety on his Thompson and dropped to his knees, prepared to defend himself.

  “We’ve been expecting you Snapdragon,” announced a deep voice in broken English.

  “I’m relieved to make contact with you,” answered Jonathon warily, his finger still on the trigger.

  “Let us take a moment to review what is ahead of us,” suggested the tallest of the shadowy men touching Jonathon on his shoulder. “Please sit so that we can study our maps. We are relatively safe from detection within this plantation. My father owns it. I’m Sergeant Hammer of the Filipino Scouts. I assume that you are Lieutenant Wright.”

  Jonathon breathed easier and kneeled beside the Filipino sergeant. “I was beginning to worry that we had missed you, Sergeant Hammer.”

  “I apologize that I did not direct you to us with a light, but the Japanese have been more active lately with their shore patrols. We made certain that you were not threatened by the patrols. I thought it would be better for you to get away from the beach before we made contact,” explained Sergeant Hammer, laying a map on the ground exactly like the one Jonathon had folded in his pocket.

  Sergeant Hammer outlined the original mission which was being taken over by other Filipino units. As a matter of fact it was his group of guerrilla fighters that had recommended the change in plans. He had fifteen men with him to supplement the army platoon for the assault on the compound. His map had been updated with a more accurate layout of the sugar plantation where the women were being held prisoner.

  Approximately thirty Japanese naval infantrymen were guarding the rectangular compound, which consisted of a barn and a stable completely enclosed by a barbed wire fence with elevated platforms at the four corners. Two men and a machine gun were located on each platform day and night. There was also a large two-story house immediately beside the horse stable. The guards were housed in a lean-to attached to the house. Sergeant Hammer believed that the house was being used by the officers. They had counted three officers but there may be more.

  “How long will it take us to get there, Sergeant?” asked Jonathon.

  “If we don’t have to detour for Japanese patrols, we can be there by three o’clock in the morning. I have a small band of local partisans watching the compound from a nearby hillside. Our immediate destination is that overview. As soon as the sun comes up you can observe the camp and plan your assault.”

  “How many inmates are in the prison?” Jonathon asked.

  “Our best estimate is about seventy-five,” replied Sergeant Hammer.

  “Seventy-five?” exclaimed Jonathon. “I was led to believe that it would be a couple of dozen. We couldn’t get that many on the boat even if we made it back before the invasion! Why did you recommend that this mission be substituted for our previous one?”

  “The family of one of my men brings supplies and vegetables to the guard detachment. A short time ago the original Japanese army guards were replaced by a fanatical Japanese naval infantry unit. They are much more brutal and oppressive to the women inmates. The sick list and the death rate of the inmates has doubled since the change in guards. Something else has been taking place at an alarming rate,” Sergeant Hammer explained.

  “What are you trying to say?”

  “The inmates, young and old, are being beaten and raped by members of the detachment. Every night we hear their cries and screams from our overview position.”

  “My God!” cried Jonathon. A few of the men heard what the Filipino scout had told Jonathon. The grim message circulated from man to man galvanizing them into an avenging fighting unit. Now they understood the urgency of their mission.

  “There’s something else, Lieutenant,” added Sergeant Hammer in a strained voice. He stood up grasping his Springfield bolt action rifle firmly. “The day that the Japanese detachment is informed of the American invasion of Luzon, they will not hesitate to kill every one of the prisoners. They want no live witnesses to the bestial behavior of the naval infantry. Massacring prisoners, military as well as civilian, has been a trademark of the Japanese throughout the Islands.”

  “Lead the way, Sergeant Hammer,” ordered Jonathon with a stern set to his jaw. “Let’s get Operation Snapdragon underway!”

  Chapter Two

  Evening shadows descended on the small sugar cane plantation known as Los Tomas. A cool sea breeze swept the surrounding jungle vegetation depositing its moist cleansing aroma throughout the confines of the barn and nearby horse stable. Occasionally the fetid stench of the prison compound was displaced by the cool trade winds, but when the night air became still and the winds shifted their direction, the dry putrid smells from the open latrine pits were overpowering. Unwashed human bodies added another dimension to the offensive foulness that permeated the two structures where the women prisoners were detained. They spent each day in the field planting, cultivating, and harvesting sugar cane and sugar beets. They were allowed a small area for the production of vegetables, which never reached maturity before the starving inmates consumed every stem as soon as it sprouted from the rich soil. Fear and despair hung over the prison camp. Death was commonplace.

  During the earlier months of the war the inmates were treated poorly, but a strong element of hope permeated the atmosphere. The Caucasian female prisoners were secretaries, office workers, nurses, domestic workers, nannies, and school teachers. Many were married to consulate and government officials and military officers. Immediately upon surrendering they were separated from the men.

  That first year, they were treated relatively well by the Japanese commandant who followed the covenants of the Geneva Convention. Good judgment was used in handling the female prisoners on the assumption that they may be returned to the Allies in exchange for Japanese officials arrested in Washington and London at the beginning of the war. Red Cross packages were regularly distributed. The inmates ate as well as the compound guards. There was a chance that they would be repatriated, but efforts to accomplish an exchange were feeble and infrequent.

  The Japanese guard replacement took place in late 1942 when conditions began to deteriorate. Food became scarce even though the prisoners had cultivated a large area for the production of vegetables. At first it was passionately attended and met with the approval of the guard detachment. As hunger became commonplace the garden patch became nothing but a bare piece of ground. Even weeds were eaten as soon as they took root in the black soil.

  A portion of the barn was converted into an infirmary where the nurses did all they could to care for the sick and those injured by the sadistic guards. The women persevered in the barbarous atmosphere and were thankful that the camp commandant held a tight grip on the men under his command. Physical cruelty, starvation, and denial of adequate medical treatment was commonplace for the next two years. As bad as it was, it could have been worse. The inmates were not used as sex objects by the Japanese. A few of the women made suggestive overtures to some of the guards for special treatment. The guards were tempted by the offers but they never followed through. The commandant would have severely punished them. Each guard was mortally afraid of raising his wrath against themselves.

  The single symptom of prolonged malnutrition and starvation most feared by the prisoners was blindness. Every woman was suffering to some degree from the dreaded condition. Loss of vision and the ability to distinguish images at a distance were symptoms that caused the most anxiety among the prison population. The nurses tried to reassure them that normal sight would be restored once they were back on normal diets.

  Malaria, dysentery, acute dehydration, and pellagra were but a few of the malignancies that proved to be fatal. The inmates were gaunt and weary, and had given up any hope they once had of freedom or of outliving the subhuman conditions imposed upon them. Their arms a
nd legs were like straws on scarecrows that farmers fashioned in their corn fields to keep away crows. Their drawn, grotesque facial features were stretched tight against their protruding bone structure. Few would recognize themselves if they looked in a mirror.

  Lisa Carter slept on a bamboo mat in the corner of the stable. The delicate facial features she once had were lost in the horror-filled deeply set eyes. Her auburn hair was unkempt and filthy like the tattered dress she wore.

  Lisa was a tireless and energetic worker in the fields. She kept to herself as much as possible, but when help was needed by her fellow prisoners she was among the first to respond to their needs. She had been a civil service worker in the consulate general office in Manila when the war began. The Japanese had captured the city before any of the civilian workers could escape.

  Lisa was among the first prisoners to be rounded up within the city and deposited at the abandoned sugar plantation known as Los Tomas. Over her shoulder she still carried a small pocketbook filled with personal items and identification cards and some American currency. She was dressed in a light blouse, skirt and blazer when the Japanese arrested her.

  That first year the Red Cross supplied the inmates with enough clothing so that they could change from the clothes they were wearing when captured into something more suitable. Once the Red Cross source of supplies was eliminated, their tan pants and shirts became tattered and torn. The Japanese claimed not to have any replacement clothing for them. The main source of foodstuffs, blankets, and clothing came to the inmates by way of the local Filipino population who, almost on a daily basis, threw supplies over the barbed wire enclosure. Soap, shoes, and feminine hygiene products became precious possessions to those who were first to catch the items. Several ugly fights developed among the inmates scrambling for the provisions. In time the inmates were able to administer the distribution of the precious booty in a fair and equitable system.

  One of the most influential ladies in the prison was a woman in her early sixties who called herself “Madame June.” It was obvious to all of the inmates that she came from a family of influence and authority. She voluntarily took it upon herself to organize the compound into small groups with assigned leaders. Beyond that no one asked questions, for it could have been dangerous for true identities to be known. The main purpose of such a structure was to instill some semblance of order so that the supplies thrown to them could be administered justly and those most in need could be cared for. It was the “buddy system” on a larger scale than one on one.

  Madame June had wisely selected individuals throughout the barn and stable to act as representatives for the groups. That gave the inmates some cohesion and identity with the group, allowing them to function as a society instead of an uncontrollable mob. She spoke in a straightforward manner with a slight southern drawl. The jewelry she brought with her to the compound she exchanged with the commandant for medicines and personal hygiene supplies. She became a beloved member of the prison community.

  Small of stature with white hair, Madame June emanated confidence and hope. She was primarily responsible for establishing a more structured community within their squalid confinement. Her voice was soft and she selected her words carefully so as to not be misunderstood. She was a born leader, never demanding or giving orders. Things got done when she suggested that this or that needed attention and should be taken care of. Most of the inmates were eager to carry out her wishes. She was responsible for helping to maintain their sanity and self-respect in the face of inhuman cruelty and complete indifference to their suffering.

  One of Madame June’s closest companions was the young woman known as Lisa. Many speculated that they had known each other before the war started, but neither gave any indication that that was the case. Pseudonyms were common and readily accepted by the incarcerated community. Here it did not make any difference who they had been. Each individual was accepted or rejected on the basis of who and what they were within the enclosed barbed wire fence. Within a short time after Madame June recognized the need for some discipline within the camp, the emotionally stronger women began to assume positions of leadership. It was a loose alliance that worked well.

  Madame June worked tirelessly for the women, holding several in her arms through long difficult nights when they were ill or distraught, and in need of comfort.

  Malaria was the most debilitating disease. The Japanese claimed that they did not have any quinine, a medicine that gave relief to patients suffering from the disease. One day late in June, 1942, Madame June demanded that she be taken to the prison commandant to whom she argued forcefully and defiantly for quinine and other medicines. She promised the commandant that she would produce gold jewelry in exchange. He insolently told her that he could take the gold if he wanted without producing the medical supplies. Everyone who heard the discussion remembered the words Madame June spoke in precise English which the commandant understood.

  “You may kill me and torture me but I can promise that I will never tell you where the jewelry is hidden. You produce the medicine and I’ll produce the payment. Take it or leave it. Don’t misunderstand what I’m telling you, Mr. Commandant. You and your henchmen will never be able to break me. You might kill me, but I’ve already lived a full life and am prepared to die. The decision is yours.”

  The commandant was furious to be backed so neatly into a corner by an old lady weighing no more than one hundred and ten pounds. He carefully scrutinized Madame June and Lisa, who had accompanied her to the main plantation house. He was anything but stupid and believed that the elderly matron meant what she said. He curtly dismissed them. The next day the front gates were opened and two carts piled with boxes were wheeled into the compound. The soldiers asked for Madame June. She instructed the women to take the boxes to the small infirmary in a corner of the barn. The guards were reluctant to release the carts until Madame June and Lisa walked to the open gate behind the carts and motioned to the guards. She held a gold necklace and two gold rings in her hand offering them to the guards. Their demeanor immediately changed. They released the cart and grabbed the jewelry without a word. The gate was closed behind them in their haste to bring the fortune in gold to their superior. That had been a good period for the inmates. Madame June had won a moral victory.

  During the second year of the women’s internment, two B-26 bombers flew over the compound a few feet above the barn roof maintaining their position one behind the other. As they approached the fence enclosure their bomb bay doors began to discharge thousands of small packages from the cavernous fuselages. The boxes rained upon the compound and buildings covering the ground several layers thick in places. The pilot’s aim was precise, most of their load fell within the prison complex. Loud cheers erupted from the inmates as they scrambled for the boxes and waved at the screaming planes overhead. As soon as the planes were empty, they made a turn and retraced their path over the compound again with their left wings tilted straight down so that the inmates could get a good look at the pilots, as they rocked their wings back and forth in salute.

  It was a thrilling experience for every member of the prison. The presence of American bombers meant that American forces were approaching the Philippine Islands. That fact energized the lagging hopes and fears of being isolated from the rest of the world. Familiar American products also rekindled pride in who they were. The small packages sustained their belief in eventual deliverance from their unspeakable hell.

  The packages were called “Victory Packs.” They were wrapped in paper containing the American and Filipino flags and a line made famous by General Douglas MacArthur: “I Shall Return.” They contained American cigarettes, Chesterfield, Lucky Strikes, Philip Morris, or Kools. The candy portion was either Hershey chocolate bars, Skybars, or Mounds, with generous amounts of Tootsie-Rolls, and chewing gum (Juicy-Fruit, Doublemint or Teaberry). The compact package also contained a pencil with a paper pad, and something that the women treasured—a small sewing kit with extra thread. The packages that f
ell outside of the fence were also eagerly sought by the Japanese guard detachment. They scrambled and fought for them the same as the inmates.

  The Victory Packs were the brainchild of General MacArthur’s Army staff. The idea came from his Intelligence chief, Major General Charles Willoughby. The packs helped keep the flame of liberty and hope alive. Their value as a morale booster was far greater than the cost of assembling small tokens from a free nation. They were a piece of Americana representing the might and will of a country and its people who had not forgotten the plight of the Filipinos. Packages that fell into the hands of the enemy were ominous reminders that their days of control in the Philippines were limited.

  Lisa and Madame June had surrendered to the Japanese at the Manila Library. Madame June was in the reading room when the enemy soldiers surrounded the building and began collecting occupants as they went from room to room. Lisa was in the archival portion of the library researching records of past census surveys. The Japanese immediately dismissed all of the native Filipinos and retained the Americans and other nationalities for incarceration in holding camps located throughout the occupied area of the islands.

  The civilian males were separated from the children and women at the train station in Manila. The men were considered the same as military prisoners of war and were marched off to prisons in the city proper. The women and older children were loaded on empty freight cars which transported them a hundred and fifty miles north of Manila near the small town of Bagio. They were then forced to walk five miles over sugar cane fields to a deserted plantation where Japanese soldiers were diligently building a wire fence around the outbuildings of the plantation. The women were told that they were temporarily being detained until reparation could be arranged through the International Red Cross and the offices of neutral countries such as Switzerland and Sweden. The Japanese commandant spoke excellent English and even apologized for the primitive living conditions at the camp. At the time of Lisa and Madame June’s arrival, there were about fifty women and teen-aged children already being held captive at the plantation.