Life at the camp was difficult for the first year but most of the inmates were able to maintain their physical and emotional sense of well-being without any threat or fear of the type of sadistic abuse that was commonplace at other Japanese prisons. The second year, however, established a steady decline in living conditions, food rations, and medical supplies. The inmates never saw a doctor or a nurse and the medical supplies were meager at best.
Malnutrition and starvation were permanent threats to the inmates’ lives. Women’s legs became watery, bloated, and painful especially during the nighttime hours. Loss of teeth was beginning to be commonplace. Severe intestinal cramps affected the older inmates doubling them over with excruciating pain. All of the manifestations of malnutrition and starvation were bad enough, but, without doubt, the most dreaded symptom was the frightening specter of blindness that was slowly spreading throughout the prison population.
During the final days of 1944, conditions at the camp had deteriorated even further. If it was allowed to continue much longer it would be a death sentence to all of the inmates. Many of the women prisoners that had suffered the outrages of starvation and an assortment of unattended illnesses were, for the first time, subjected to violent sexual attacks from their Japanese guards. Their commandant established the practice of brutally satisfying their lust. Young and old suffered equally. Even several twelve-year-old children were raped repeatedly.
Suicides were becoming a daily occurrence. Those women who teetered on the edge of sanity, even life itself, were ultimately driven to taking their own lives, seeking release from the pain and humiliation heaped upon them. Some tore at their wrists with rusty nails obtained from the rotting walls of the buildings. Others attacked the guards so that they would be shot or bayoneted. One young girl had climbed to the roof of the barn among the rafters and dove head first into a cement floor.
A number of women died in their sleep simply because they willed themselves to stop living. They had lost the battle and there was nothing left to live for. Everyone existed in a world of weakened will and ebbing physical ability. Hope had died a long time ago and when the sexual assaults started, many were incapable of coping with the terror.
Even Lisa and Madame June believed that the end was near. Every one of the prisoners prepared themselves for that eventuality…
Chapter Three
Late one evening, the moon was partially obliterated by heavy cloud cover. Sporadic showers soaked Jonathon’s platoon as they blindly followed the intrepid Sergeant Hammer and his partisan fighters. The rain felt good against the sweating muscles carrying one hundred pound packs as they moved across the terrain just short of a run, hardly a leisurely stroll. The pace was beginning to take its toll on the men, even though they were in excellent physical condition. Every human being had limitations. Sergeant Hammer whispered back through the ranks that they could take a break on the opposite side of the small stream they were about to cross.
The stream contained fast moving water over a base of small pebbles. The men crossed it with ease barely wetting their pant legs. On the far side, Jonathon leaned against a coconut tree and rested. He was an experienced hiker and took every advantage possible to conserve energy. Sergeant Hammer also leaned against the tree. The Rangers were silent. Unnecessary chatter in enemy territory could be dangerous. They followed Jonathon’s example and rested. Some ate a Tootsie-Roll candy bar for quick energy. The discipline the Rangers had displayed on the trail pleased Jonathon. He had hand-picked every man for the mission. There wasn’t a lemon in the bunch.
“How difficult will it be to neutralize the compound, Sergeant Hammer?” asked Jonathon.
“I’ve studied the camp from a distance. One thing that is imperative is to isolate the barn and stable where the inmates are housed as soon as possible. There’s a Japanese army supply center a few miles from the camp. When they hear gunfire they’ll mount an exploratory patrol instantly.”
“How many men are at the supply center?”
“Two or three hundred─it varies from day to day,” answered Sergeant Hammer seriously.
“My God, the more I hear about this mission the more worried I become,” answered Jonathon, shaking his head. His mind raced trying to find some way of isolating the compound from patrols sent from the base. "Would your group of partisans be able to establish a blocking line to contain the patrols so that they don’t penetrate as far as the compound? My Rangers can then concentrate on the prison compound.”
“I’ve already taken care of that, Lieutenant. About twenty-five of my best men are scouting for a suitable ambush site and will relieve you of that threat,” Sergeant Hammer answered.
“I’m glad you’re on our side,” exclaimed Jonathon, slapping him on the knee. “We should press on. Too long of a stop will slow us down.”
“I agree, sir.”
For several hours the Rangers and guerrillas threaded their way through the thick tropical forest and widely spaced coconut groves. Sergeant Hammer grabbed Jonathon’s arm and pointed to a break in the vegetation.
“The lights below are from the plantation house,” he said in a whisper.
Several lights were visible from the windows of a large building something like a colonial house from his native New England. The men were on a ridge overlooking the prison compound. The ridge was covered with thick undergrowth, concealing them from prying eyes below. Jonathon organized several of his men into a small perimeter defense and told the others to eat and rest and remain as motionless as possible.
He planned to attack at the first light approximately one hour after sunrise. Lieutenant Jacobs and Jonathon huddled around Sergeant Hammer to formulate a plan of action. Jacobs would take two squads of Rangers to surround the prison fence. Once in position, their first job was to take out the four elevated guard platforms at each corner of the rectangular compound. Working in a semicircle they would fight their way in toward the barn and stable building in the corner of the wire enclosure. The plantation house was outside of the fence beside the other buildings. Once the towers were blown, Jonathon and one squad of Rangers would assault the plantation house, neutralizing any Japanese that tried to escape from the building.
Jonathon laid his head against a small log and closed his eyes. He was too keyed up to sleep. Tomorrow would be a rough day for the Rangers. The night was filled with noises from the nocturnal animals who take over the forest after sunset. A soft breeze blew from the west. It felt refreshing against his sweat-soaked uniform. He carefully parted a branch so that he could watch the compound below. The silence of the night was broken by a loud high-pitched scream from a woman in mortal pain followed by several loud commands spoken in Japanese. The screaming continued increasing in intensity. The cry jolted Jonathon’s composure to the depth of his soul. He had never heard such excruciating cries from another human being. Suddenly two pistol shots rang out across the landscape. They came from the plantation house. The screams from the tormented woman ceased.
“We’ve heard similar sounds before, Lieutenant,” whispered Sergeant Hammer.
“The bastards are going to pay,” vowed Jonathon softly. He had a strong urge to run down the hill to administer justice to the perpetrators.
“Our time will come tomorrow. I pray that the women will have the courage to hold on for a few more hours. Their deliverance is at hand,” replied Sergeant Hammer. Jonathon grasped him by the shoulder, glad that the valiant Filipino was with them.
The troops rested for two hours. Just as the sky in the East was beginning to glow, the men huddled around the squad leaders memorizing the sequences of the attack. Jonathon did not say a word to his men. They knew what was expected of them. The gut-wrenching sounds that had emitted from the house filled each of them with a seething rage that made them deadlier than ever. Jonathon had no doubt that they could handle the guard detachments. Each Ranger was equipped with a large supply of hand grenades and extra ammunition for their individual weapons. Most carried a Thompson submachine
gun.
The two squads under Lieutenant Jacobs had already left the ridge before the sun rose to get into position for their attack. Once they were in position to wipe out the towers and blow holes in the perimeter fence, their volleys would signal the attack for Jonathon’s squad to lunge down the ridge to the plantation house.
A line of coconut trees delineated the fields around the plantation house from the tropical forest. Sergeant Hammer and five of his Filipinos, followed by Jonathon and his remaining squad, crawled to the edge of the clearing close to the house and waited for Lieutenant Jacobs to begin the assault. The main entrance to the house was directly in front of Jonathon. Sergeant Hammer and Jonathon had agreed that they would blow the entrance door with two hand grenades, and enter the vestibule area together. Jonathon would secure each room on the left by rolling grenades through the door as it was opened. Sergeant Hammer would do the same on his right.
Lying in the moist dew-laden grass, Jonathon heard a voice coming from the house. It was a pitiful cry for help and it steeled his resolve.
“No… No… Stop you’re hurting me… stop…” It made the hair stand up on the back of his neck. It came from a room to the left of the main entrance. He would have to be careful where he tossed grenades, some of the inmates may be in the rooms.
Two minutes later, explosions took place at the four corners of the compound. Jonathon smiled to himself. Lieutenant Jacobs had coordinated their attacks with precision. He leaped from his concealed position and darted towards the door with grenade in hand. He rolled it at the bottom of the door and flattened himself against the building away from the blast. Sergeant Hammer had done the same on the right side. The door was obliterated. The two men leaped through the opening before the debris had settled. Jonathon held his Thompson at the ready. A door immediately to his left was blown open by the blast. The scene he witnessed sent him into a frenzied rage.
In the middle of the room was a large four posted bed with a lace canopy. A white woman was lying on the bed, spread-eagled with her hands and feet tied to the four corner posts. A naked Japanese officer was on top of the woman with his pants on the floor. Two soldiers were at the head of the bed as if they had been tying the woman’s hands. They were frantically reaching for their rifles when Jonathon cut them down with a short burst from his Thompson.
The Japanese officer raping the woman jumped to his feet just as Jonathon caught him with a powerful swipe of the butt of his Thompson. Blood spurted from his mouth and nose as he buckled to the floor at the foot of the bed. Jonathon stood over the enemy officer filled with a hatred beyond anything he had ever experienced in his life. The thought of the cowardly animal forcing himself on the woman tied to the bed unleashed a desire to torment the man the same way the Jap had the defenseless woman. The Jap was probably the camp commandant. He shook his head and tried to get up. Jonathon smashed his boot heel into the man’s face and without hesitation fired two rounds into the man’s groin. A look of horror and disbelief filled the Jap’s eyes.
Sergeant Hammer entered the room and was prepared to run his bayonet through the officer.
“Not this one, Sergeant,” screamed Jonathon grasping the rifle. “I want the bastard to live.”
“Why?”
“Death would be too easy for the pig. Right now he needs to suffer. It’s pay-back time for the little bastard,” exclaimed Jonathon in a high pitched voice he hardly recognized as his own.
The woman on the bed began to cry with deep hysterical sobs. Her body wracked with pain and shame. Explosions and shots filled the air from the compound. Jonathon quickly grabbed a blanket to cover her nakedness. “Don’t be alarmed lady. I’m an American soldier and we’ve come to rescue you. These animals won’t be able to hurt you anymore. Please, remain quiet until we’ve secured the rest of the prison compound. Try to understand—you’re free. No one will harm you again.” He cut the strands holding her feet and arms and tried to reassure her, but she was becoming more and more hysterical. “Don’t be frightened lady, you’re safe now.”
Jonathon turned to look at the Jap officer sitting in a pool of his own blood on the floor. He was shaking all over and managed to sneer insolently at Jonathon, who delivered a vicious blow with this boot to the officer’s private parts. “That should wipe the sneer off your ugly face, you pitiful excuse for a man.” Sergeant Hammer dragged the Jap officer out the door by the hair and propped him against the side of the barn, and returned to the room.
The woman was in shock. As soon as Jonathon had freed her limbs she began to pound on him, screaming incoherently. “Please lady… Do you understand what I’m saying? I’m an American soldier. You are free,” he said distinctly, holding her flailing fists.
She was in another world. Her eyes did not look at him; they looked through him. He was concerned about her mental stability and wanted to console her. Yet, he also needed to find out what was happening beyond the walls of the house. If she continued to react the same way, she might hurt herself. He had a feeling that she intended to do just that. In desperation, Jonathon slapped her across the face with an open palm. Her head snapped sideways and she stopped screaming. He felt for her pulse and placed his ear to her mouth. She was breathing heavily.
The small arms firing outside became more intense and much closer. Jonathon glanced at the woman hoping that she would be all right for a while. She was a pathetic looking human being, aged beyond her years with arms and legs the size of a small child. Unconsciousness could be a blessing for her, he thought, leaping through the door.
Chapter Four
Jonathon ran into several of his men from the second squad in the process of mopping up the area between the plantation house and the stable.
“How much of the compound is secured?” he asked.
“The fenced area is cleared, sir,” answered a corporal.
“The stable and barn are also secured. Lieutenant Jacob is in there now. We’ve got a few Jap stragglers to round up. They ran this way into the wooded area where the Filipinos have them surrounded.”
“Go get them men. Good work,” congratulated Jonathon. The prison had been taken with relative ease. He met Lieutenant Jacob at the entrance to the barn. “You did a great job, Hal. How about casualties?”
“Three wounded as far as I know, Jonathon. The tenacity of the Rangers’ assault was partially responsible for the low casualties. We’re still sweeping the compound and surrounding area. How many did you find in the house?”
“There were three. Hammer and his corporal checked the balance of the house. I expected more resistance. What’s your take on it?” Jonathon asked, checking his watch.
“We caught them just as they were changing the guards. Most of the detachment was in the compound and vulnerable when we struck. Our grenade attack was a complete surprise. Many of them were in the open. Second squad is in pursuit of a few stragglers,” reported Lieutenant Jacob.
“As soon as you complete your sweep, Hal, set up a perimeter defense line and use the rest of the men to look after the inmates. Right now I want to get back to the house. I’ll talk to you later about it,” ordered Jonathon.
“I’ve got it under control, Jon. God, I’m proud of the men. They fought like demons,” added Hal, replacing the empty clip in his Thompson with a full one.
Jonathon ran back towards the house. The Jap officer was still sitting where Sergeant Hammer had deposited him. Tears were rolling down the Jap’s cheeks. Years later, Jonathon would often wonder if the tears were a sign of contrition or a submission to fear.
“You’ll get no pity from me you bastard. Choices have consequences,” Jonathon hollered, running past the Jap.
The woman was still lying on the bed the way he had left her. He made sure the blanket covered her nakedness and checked her pulse. She was still breathing heavily. He pulled out his water canteen to wet a clean handkerchief and began wiping the woman’s forehead. She began to move and lifted her eyes to look at him. A shrill piercing scream passed her
lips, filled with terror, pain, and outrage.
Jonathon took her two hands and held them so that she could not hit him. He turned his left arm to her so that she could see the badge of an American flag. All of the Rangers assigned to behind the lines missions wore the emblem so that there would be no confusion about their identity. “I am an American soldier. Do you understand?” He pointed to the Ranger insignia and the flag. She did not understand and was still incoherent. “You are free. We have liberated the prison. No one is going to hurt you. Those that have hurt you are either dead or captured. I repeat, I’m an American soldier. Do you understand me?”
Suddenly, a transformation took place before his eyes. The woman was like a cornered animal, coiled and ready to strike out and fight to the death. Perhaps the release that death would bring would have been welcome. For a moment she was confused. The horror that had filled her eyes softened as she focused on the American flag on Jonathon’s shoulder patch. The reality of who he was slowly filled her consciousness, and she understood what he was saying to her. His words, spoken in a calm gentle manner, were a source of comfort. Over the years there had been few things that gave comfort. Skepticism and even paranoia helped them from being discouraged by false hopes, and she was afraid to accept what this new discovery meant to her and the other inmates, because she might be deceived. The tension in her body relaxed and large tears began to roll down her cheeks.
A Song For Lisa Page 3