American Prisoner of War in World War II - Research Paper Example

American POW in Japan s American Prisoner of War in World War II When the Japanese imperial army invaded the City of Kohta Baru on 7th December 1941, it was only a matter of time before they sailed their way into Singapore. The breathtaking flora and fauna were frequently trampled upon by heavy combat boots, as British and Indian troops drilled around the region to tighten its security. Nevertheless, a full-scale invasion was indeed inevitable and with the fall of Malay, the British navy silently waited for them to attack them at the seas. Half of my neighborhood was already deserted by then as all those who could afford left for safer regions, but with the rising levels of Guerilla violence, I could not help but pray earnestly for their safety. Even I had been getting letters quite frequently from my family in Wisconsin, but circumstances, kept me from going back even after United States had declared war on the Japanese. The canons were now faced in the direction of the seas and the British Navy were ready for the Japanese onslaught – or at least, they thought they were, until the day of reckoning for a thousand Singaporeans came on 8th February, 2942. The British troops were outsmarted by the Japanese as their troops made their way into Singapore on bicycles and after making their way through the heavy marshes and swamps of the Malay Peninsula, the Japanese took the British army by surprise. There were many stories going on about the barbarity of the Japanese army and word got around that the Japanese were not interested in taking prisoners any more. i A pamphlet was distributed amongst the Japanese that I also got to see for myself, which apparently was an ominous command that specifically told them to see their victims as the murderers of their fathers and not hold themselves back from killing them, which will lighten their hearts. ii I only understood the real meaning of the text after I was forced to learn Japanese in the camps, but these were just the tip of the ice berg of the blatant savagery that they had inflicted on the people there. This spelled a disaster for everyone in the peninsula and being on the outskirts of Bukit Timah, I had become accustomed to the sounds of gun shots and explosion in the distance. The violence was rapidly expanding. The Singaporeans put up a final stand against Japan in the battle of Bukit Chandu headed by General Adnan, where the Japanese disguised themselves as Punjabi troops and were compromised. Despite the fact that the Punjabi troops launched an excellent defensive attack, they outmaneuvered by the Japanese and then their bodies were found hanging from the trees in Bukit Chandu. This was the fuse that fired the explosive and soon, General Percival also surrendered to the Japanese and my home actually fell under the rule of the Japanese, the very people my country was at war with. I knew that my nationality was not going to strengthen my case, but fortunately for me the Imperial army that often patrolled my neighborhood had been vastly oblivious to my existence. Even when they introduced the system of ‘Sook Ching’, which means "purge through purification", to get rid of those deemed as anti-Japanese, I was the unfortunate bystander to all the atrocities that took place right before my eyes. The Sook Ching Massacre claimed the lives of between 25,000 and 50,000 ethnic Chinese in Singapore and Malaya. These men were rounded up and taken to deserted spots around the island and killed systematically. iii Besides, the military police also called the Kempeitai established a network of informers around the island to help them identify those who were anti-Japanese. These informers were well-paid by the Kempeitai and had no fear of being arrested. Japanese soldiers patrolled the streets and commoners had to bow to them when they passed by. Those who failed to do so would be beaten and some people would be taken away. ivThe Japanese began calling Singapore, Syonanto, which meant the ‘Light of the South’. It pained me to bow down to the people, who had massacred most of my friends, but to survive it was a major blow my ego that I willingly accepted. I lived in constant fear that one day I will be rounded up like one of my friends and that’d be the last I’d see the light of the day. It was only a matter of time till one of my greatest fears actually manifested itself and I found myself being dragged away by the Japanese troops, I was thrown into the back of their jeep, while they muttered and yelled at me in Japanese. I was filled with terror and I knew my death; a death of an American was meant to avenge their loss in one of the battles against my country and in my heart I knew that I will not make it out alive. I was filled with a sense of dread as they blindfolded me and bound my hands behind my back. I could feel the sides of their boots jammed uncomfortably against my flesh, but I tried not to struggle or show signs of distress; this was the only satisfaction that I was not willing to give them. The steady chug of the engine filled the air and my palms were numb by that time. We hurled to an abrupt stop and I hear a few more voices and I knew we were there, at the execution site. I had never thought this day would come, but then I felt a strong hand clenching my arm and I was hurled to the ground. I laid lifeless there and hit my head hard on the ground, I was fully conscious and as my blindfold shifted, and finally through a streak I caught a glimpse of my tormentors. I could see the golden chrysanthemum glistening on their arms, as they gave a curt salute and disappeared in to a barrack. I heard a sound of two footsteps and then found myself on my two feet as they guided me somewhere and then shoved me violently on the floor. My blindfold was taken off and it took me a little while to refocus my eyes as I saw myself staring at a rotund Japanese officer. He eyed me viciously and then mumbled in Japanese. I was in utter shock and did not know how to respond, I mustered up the courage to say something when I felt a sharp pain in my temple, as he slapped me across my face while he had thick leather gloves on. He mumbled something again and I told him I could not understand him, which only seemed to make him angrier. He punched me again and this time the forced nearly toppled me. He repeatedly charged heavy blows on to my face, the pain was excruciating but I did not pass out. I was too weak to do anything, so I was dragged out yet again and then pushed into a cellar. For a second I just laid there for the pain to subside; my hands were still restrained, so finally when the pain had become bearable enough I swept a quick glance around the dimly room and I could not believe what I saw. The air was filled with a pungent smell of excrement and urine lying in a corner and I saw emaciated young men, who were too weak to notice my presence, their faces were covered in bruises too. The room was small, so everybody lay clumped together and I could make out that they were around hundreds of prisoners in there. The next day we were called out for our roll-call that I found out from another inmate was called ‘Tenko’ and yet again, I discovered that the failure to respond or call out your roll number in Japanese would take me through the same horror that I had been through yesterday and at the very thought of it, my heartbeat quickened. I was in the second row and I never had any exposure to the language and I was completely at a loss. The roll-call went on smoothly and it seemed that everybody else had learned the trick; I looked around nervously until I heard someone beside me mumble something. v I looked at him and he was a well-built Chinese man, who repeated, “Nii-Juu-San (Twenty-Three)”. I gave him a confused look and then it dawned on me. Gladly the Tenko went without anyone getting any beating. I was extremely grateful to the man who helped me but at the camp hardly anyone spoke with each other in front of Japanese officers, and only when night fell, in the darkness of the cellars, we often discussed the pain and cruelty we were subjected to. It had only been my second day here, but my plight seemed like nothing in comparison to what the others had gone through, who had been here for nearly 4 months. After our roll-call and then forced to march up to repair damaged docks and load ammunitions on to ships. On a routine basis, a number of POW’s were transported from the Selarang camp to Burma, where they were forced to work on the Burma rail. The Burma Railway project soon came to be known as the death railway that connected Singapore with Rangoon. Every day, I used to hope that I would not end up going there as the conditions under which the POW’s worked were far worse than what we were going through and I did not even want to know what was worse than this. viIt truly depicted man’s capacity to commit inhumanity to another man. I realized there were other Americans with me on board, but they were starved to the point that their bones began jutting out. We did not have access to proper food, clothing or medicines that made us all equally susceptible to getting tropical ulcers. Many inmates had had their legs amputated without anesthesia because of this condition, but limb less does not exempt anyone from their work and our food portions depended on the amount of work everybody did. viiUnlike me, most of the POW’s were distinguished generals and soldiers of the American army, who were now reduced to the status of a mere slave and as per Japanese beliefs, these American soldiers deserved this treatment for they had brought shame to their country by surrendering. The gory stories of deaths and executions that I got to hear from the inmates shocked me to my core. Death loomed over our camp like a horrific shadow and every day, I would see people writhing in pain as they contracted various illnesses as a result of the unhygienic conditions of the camp. Dysentery and deficiency disorders were already common and soon I looked no better than the rest of my inmates. There was absolutely no fat in our diets and barely survived on 600 calories a day. We worked for 12 hours a day and sometimes even longer, but our portions were extremely meager and only consisted of soy beans and sea weed. I had never tried sea weed before, but in times of hunger, even that tasted like ambrosia and sometimes I would see my inmates fighting over food like animals that just broke my heart. Our living conditions worsened day by day and the fighting kept on escalating. Soon it was Christmas but celebration only meant execution and there was nothing to be merry about, but despite everything my inmates did manage to hold a small celebration. Most of the inmates had become devout Christians and prayed earnestly for our deliverance but I had become ambivalent and pessimistic; with the horrible killings that were going on all over the world, the damage was far too big to be undone long after the war. There were frequent reports of the American army slowly advancing into Japanese territories, but no news of any victories; and had there been any victories, we would have had to bear the full brunt of their fury. However, in comparison to all the other camps, thing were still quite calm at Selarang camp until one extremely unfortunate incident that left us all the inmates bearing the consequence as per the rule of “collective responsibility”. A fellow inmate tried to escape, I had not known him and I never could as his escape ended up in a failure and he was executed the next morning. Following that event, we were all given a document to sign. Although, we were forced to learn Japanese but by this time my understanding of the language had been of beginner level and I still couldn’t read. After a long discussion with all the other POWs, I discovered that the letter was indeed a form that said “I PROMISE NOT TO ESCAPE”.viii It was an extremely absurd move on their part; as if a signed notice would keep us from escaping if we really wanted to, but there was no way we could counter it and for the first time, all of us decided to voice our discontent against the Japanese and subsequently refused to sign the form. When the next day came and no signed forms were turned in, their reaction was intense but was completely expected; my fellow inmates and I were pushed outside and we remained outdoors, unless we agreed to sign it. This seemed like a bearable punishment, but in our weakened state, we spent hours in the open and soon many of my friends collapsed as a result of hunger and fatigue; yet no one stepped forth to sign that form. I knew the Japanese were thinking up ways to break our spirit, but despite all that was going on I was proud of my friends for not wavering. The dawn of the next day came and we were all sleeping on the hard ground huddled together, until we were violently jolted out of our sleeps by the sound of heavy footsteps and around 20 of the inmates were randomly chosen. I was sleeping next to my Chinese friend, who was violently dragged away but he was too weak to resist. They were lined up and in front our very eyes they were shot. I had never felt so angry and helpless as their limp, lifeless bodies were dragged away, but even then we didn’t sign the form. They were quickly losing their patience with us and somehow I was filled with a sense of foreboding that we’d handing over that signed form in a matter of time. The camp’s condition worsened and soon the inmates began showing symptoms of various diseases including Jaundice and Pneumonia. We could help them out as much as we can, but they needed medical assistance and that is how the Japanese gave a mighty blow to our spirits and withheld all medicines. We were frantic as their health deteriorated, but the only way to gain access was to sign that form. So finally, the Japanese got what they wanted and our protest came at a heavy price as many perished as a result of epidemic. Years passed and the Japanese were quickly losing control over their territories to the allied forces. I had become a shadow of a man I was before and my vision was becoming blurry, but despite my failing health I knew I had to survive. I had lost contact with the outer world and the number of inmates at Selarang decreased markedly; most of them had already been sent to work at the railroad, while others had perished. The remaining prisoners were then transported to the camp at Changi that was ironically designed to accommodate only 1000 prisoners but now held nearly 7000 POWs. ixI had lost all interest in what was going on in the world, because it was not just the Japanese who were committing these but everyone had transformed into mosnters. Torture was the norm and the sanctity of life was a notion long forgotten by everyone. There was no point in cursing the Japanese because even my own people and the people it was fighting for inflicted the same pain on their enemies. xThere was nothing glorious about this war and the despondency of my situation had caused me to lose all hope in humanity. My vision became worse day by day and I realized it was because of a deficiency of Vitamin A and B, but now I no longer cared whether I lived or died, but I really wanted to see my family desperately because I was beginning to forget their faces. I had spent nearly 3 years and 4 months and was constantly tormented by a lingering fear that we will be executed the moment allied forced marched into Singapore. xi However, my fear turned out to be baseless and on the 12th September, 1945 we were quietly summoned in the prison ground and were told that we were free to go as the Japanese had already surrendered to the allied forces. As much as I hated to admit it, it was the atomic bomb in the end that saved our lives. My plight ended as quickly as it had begun and for a second I could not believe that I was now on a plane to Wisconsin. The war left billions dead and millions scarred both mentally and physically. The stories of torture that was circulating at that time, still gives me nightmares and even to this day, I can distinctly recall all the horrors I was confronted with at the camp. Read More