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The World War 2 Japanese Prison Diaries of
Alexander John James
Freedom
Liberation
Our first intimation of the end of the war came at four o’clock on August the fifteenth, just four hours after the announcement to his subjects by Emperor Hirohito, and half an hour before the news came out in print!
As usual about thirty of us had been working on the garden all day, and we were just preparing to leave for camp. The daily ‘milk’ had not been delivered, but the ‘milkman’ was hanging about waiting for a chance to speak. The guard being occupied with preparations for departure, an officer who could speak Japanese went to the fence. The exact translation of what he was told was; - “There has been no publication [of the daily paper] to-day, but we have heard on the radio that Japan has surrendered to America.”.
Most of us were skeptical having heard similar stories before, but the rumour was strengthened on the way home. First of all, a news vendor suddenly appeared on the street with an armful of special editions. He was promptly mobbed and in no time was empty-handed. People did not bother to pay for their copies, they just grabbed and read. Something was evidently in the wind. Further on various Koreans gave us the ‘thumbs up’ sign, an expression of their thoughts which they seldom dared give.
Back in camp, the whole building fairly buzzed with talk. An officer had been told “Senso owari” (the war is over), by a sentry at about half past three, but having heard this innumerable times, merely laughed it off. But all Japanese N.C.O.’s had been called to the office during the afternoon, and when they came out, one or two were seen to be in tears. Very significant! Another indication was that the Japs would neither cancel, nor make the necessary arrangements for the next day’s gardening party. Most of us went to bed that night at least eighty percent sure that the end had come!
We did go out gardening on the sixteenth after all. Unprecedented interest was shown in us all the way there. During the morning a stranger walked up to the fence and, in good English, announced that American troops had landed in southern Korea. (This proved to be quite untrue). The ‘milkman’ made two deliveries before lunch, and told us that a high Japanese official had committed hara-kiri. These wisps of information, which meant nothing in themselves, were sufficient to stop all work for the day. The Jap guard commander, who doubtless realized that we had learned the truth, made no attempt to interfere or make himself a nuisance, although we merely sat in groups and chatted for the rest of the day.
If any doubts remained, they were completely dispelled by the march home. It was more like a victory march of a triumphant army, than a bunch of P.O.W.’s returning from a work party! Up and down the crowded streets drove lorry-loads of Koreans waving their national flag and yelling their heads off. Every tramcar sprouted flags and cheering passengers from its windows. We were cheered to the echo by the crowds, who hailed us as their liberators. Some ran amongst us shaking hands. It was an embarrassing and extremely moving situation. Our guards, who were at first livid with anger at these demonstrations, soon gave up all attempt to keep order.
When we reached camp, fairly bubbling over with joy and excitement, we were greeted with the news that an American pilot was in camp. He had been shot down whilst flying over Keijo on the thirteenth of August, and after sundry adventures had been told on the night of the fifteenth that the war was over, and was sent to our camp. A very pleasant and unassuming fellow, he patiently submitted to a perfect barrage of questions, and told us things that made us realize how far behind the times we had fallen.
On the morning of the seventeenth Colonel Noguchi, the camp Commandant, sent for our two senior Lt. Colonels. He told them he had some very important news to impart which he thought we already knew. He was assured that we did know, and together they discussed administrative details.
During the morning, those officers and men whose sentences at Keijo civil gaol had not yet expired gave themselves varying terms of remission, opened the gaol gates, and made their way to the camp. They all looked fairly well, but their stories of life in that prison made one squirm.
That afternoon two more strangers arrived. An American pilot who did not know the war was over, and a Russian pilot who did not know that his country had been at war with Japan. 2/Lt. McDaniel had been one of a patrol of eight P47’s, which had come up on the fourteenth looking for Lr. Yeargain, the pilot who had arrived in camp the day before. McDaniel himself had been shot down over Jinsen only a few hours before the end of the war. Giorgi Jliashenko, a mail plane pilot, had become lost in fog after leaving Vladivostok, and eventually came down in the sea on August the fifth. He and his crew of three rowed around for four days before an unhappy stroke of fortune guided them to the Korean coast on the very day that the Soviet’s declared war on Japan! They were fired on by beach defenses, and one was so badly wounded that he promptly drew his own revolver and shot himself. The other three were taken prisoner, bound, and separated. Jliashenko was in a pretty bad way when he arrived, but we gave him and McDaniel a terrific reception – fortunately two of our officers could speak Russian – and they soon settled down happily enough.
Saturday 18th August passed with no excitements – save for the issue of our final American Red
Cross parcel – until late in the evening. Then eight more Russians appeared. Two were Jliashenko’s missing friends, two were marines captured on the east coast, and the remainder were the crew of a torpedo bomber shot down near Rashin. All had suffered much maltreatment, had had no food or sleep for three days, and none had any footwear. As soon as they came into our lines we gave them a rousing cheer, and took them straight to the cookhouse. A rapid whip-round produced more than a sufficiency of clothing, washing gear, and other necessities. They were overjoyed to be amongst friends, and were very touched by the reception we gave them.
A week passed with no developments, we were still confined to camp, still under armed guard. Then instructions were received to lay out twenty foot letters PW in yellow cloth on a black ground, to guide aircraft which were to drop supplies. Accordingly on the 29th, by which time rations were getting very short, two B29’s came over from Saipan. They dropped food and medical supplies in forty gallon petrol drums, and some bales of clothing. Unfortunately the loads were dropped from too low an altitude for the parachutes to open. As a result, one civilian was killed, many houses were damaged, and about fifty percent of the tins of food were smashed. On the next day another Super fortress dropped more food. This delivery was far more successful, as being released from a greater height, the parachutes had time to open properly, and the bulk of the issue was collected intact. From then on, to our relief, rice ceased to appear on the menu. However the habit of going around in ragged and patched clothing proved harder to break. After any occasion demanding the use (with reverent awe) of our new American garments, it was almost a pleasure to climb back into some really old old clothes!
On September the 2nd, at a ceremony which annoyed many of us intensely by its kid glove “let’s –all-be-friends-now” atmosphere, we were informed that as peace had been signed that day, our status as prisoners of war was at an end, and henceforth we would be regarded as officers and men of a friendly army. All sentries were removed from the camp area, and theoretically (only) our part of the camp was out of bounds to the Japs. Sightseeing expeditions in and around Keijo were arranged by the Japanese who inevitably accompanied us on them. However we were still not allowed out individually. This measure, taken with the agreement of our C.O. in view of the political tensions in the town, may have been a wise one, but irked us very considerably. Almost at once holes began to appear in the perimeter fence, and as soon as darkness fell, out we went! This ‘racket’ soon assumed quite uncontrollable proportions, people went out all day long, and in the evening the camp was empty but for the C.O. and a few of his satellites. Both he and the Japs realized that nothing could be done about the situation, and both agreed to turn a blind eye.
The Koreans, who had hitherto been too scared - and with good reason – to do much for us, now did their best to give us a good time. So well did they entertain us in fact, that when we heard definite news of a move, our joy was tempered by a sincere regret at leaving such hospitality.
The first Americans to contact us did so on September the 7th. These three officers, whose job was the evacuation of Allied prisoners, were attached to the advance party which was preparing the way for the main landing of occupational troops at Jinsen on the 8th. Although we did not actually leave Keijo till the 9th, we were officially released by these officers on the 7th September 1945, exactly thirteen hundred days after the capitulation of Singapore. It was a truly wonderful moment; a real milestone in our lives; one that none of us will ever forget.
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