BEFORE GOING FURTHER with the story of "Camp Life", perhaps I should turn aside and try and give you some description of the camp itself. Yangchow, where it was located, is a large city, situated on the west bank of the Grand Canal, perhaps fifteen miles north of the mighty Yangtze River. In the days before the war, there was a motor-bus service from Yangchow to the north side of the Yangtze, opposite the city of Chinkiang, where (you may recall) the Grand Canal crosses that river. Yangchow is a very old city, and at one time many centuries ago, there probably was some knowledge of the Gospel in it. It is said there were three Nestorian churches in this city: perhaps seven hundred years ago. Later, Marco Polo was governor there. It is a typical old Chinese city, with narrow streets, and old-fashioned Chinese shops; as well as many that are up-to-date. In recent years the Gospel was first brought to this city by the China Inland Mission at very great cost, amidst bitter opposition: but the Gospel has triumphed, and there are today several missions in it that have done excellent work, and many true believers in Christ. For a long time the China Inland Mission had its Ladies' Training Home in Yangchow, as well as other work more definitely amongst the Chinese. The Baptist mission has also had a good work in the city, and the Baptist missionaries from Yangchow in former days were amongst our best customers and our dearest friends. The American Church Mission was largely engaged in educational work, and had large schools for both young men and women. Dr. and Mrs. Ancell, who had built up this work for the mission were, I believe, true and earnest Christians; so that there are few cities in China that have been more blessed with a clear witness for the great truths of Christianity.
The Japanese seized practically all mission property in the "Occupied Area" and used it for barracks, internment camps, or for other purposes as they pleased. There was one lady, a member of the China Inland Mission, of Estonian nationality (I think), and so a neutral. She bravely stayed on alone, helping the Chinese Christians as she was able. The Japanese seized the premises where she lived, and she was forced to share a poor and tiny Chinese house with a Chinese Christian family; but her faith and courage never flagged, and the moment she was free to do so, after the Japanese surrender, she came to visit us in the Camp and to cheer our hearts.
The word "Compound" in the east comprises any given property with all the various buildings on it. There were three internment camps in Yangchow, called "Civil Assembly Center 'A'," or "C.A.C. 'A'" for short, "C.A.C. 'B'", and "C.A.C. 'C'". We were "C.A.C. 'C'". Miss Dear, we found to our grief, was in "C.A.C. `A'", and we never saw her, although for many months she was interned in the same city. Our friend, Mr. M. W. was also in this camp, but he went home on the second repatriation ship. That camp was housed in one of the China Inland Mission compounds. Camp "B" was in the Baptist Compound, and we, "Camp "C", were in the American Church Mission Boys' School Compound. This was, I think, the largest compound in the city. Camps "A" and "B" each had about three hundred persons, while we had six hundred, and another fifty Belgians from Tientsin, were later sent to us.
I have tried to draw a little plan of the place from memory. Had it ever crossed my mind that it might be of use, I could have brought out with me an accurate scale plan of the greater part of it. But this will give an idea of what it was like. There were two gates, the front one was at the east side as shown. This was large and impressive. It was formed by two immense black doors, under a very fine covered gateway, with quite an imposing entrance on the street side. It was almost always kept locked with an immense padlock, and inside a sentry box stood by. The newspaper board hung in the shelter of this gateway in later days, so when the papers came in, there was always a crowd here.
There was another, much less pretentious gate, at the southwest corner of the compound. That corner was more or less out of bounds to the campers, and was the special portion of the Japanese guards and officials. The church was comparatively new, and rather a fine building. The vestry was used as the Japanese Commandant's office; the chancel was the camp office, the front part of the main portion was the Boys' School, and the remainder was divided up into living quarters, with Chinese mats, or curtains, making little rooms for families. It took many months of bickering and changes before it was finally worked out as described; and this is true of almost everything I may try and tell. We would try one thing, and it would not work, or somebody would not fit in, and then something else would be tried, until we finally seemed to get a bit settled down.
The Japanese kept one good, two-storied residence for their own use. The hospital occupied what was, I suppose, the largest and best of the separate residences. Some of the staff lived here, and there was a good sized men's ward downstairs, with a number of rooms for ladies upstairs, and an X-ray room in the attic with living-quarters for the man in charge, and his family. The dentist had an office on the ground floor, also the dispensary; and behind the main building was the clinic and doctor's office. We had one lady and three men doctors, and great credit was due them for the comparatively good health of the camp. I think we all marveled at Dr. Gillison's operations, amidst the most primitive surroundings, and I do not think he had one that was not a success. We had a good nursing staff, and a number of our best girls helped about the hospital. During the latter part of our internment, the hospital had its own private kitchen, with special stokers and cooks.
Next to the Hospital came "Government House", where Mr. Grant lived with Mr. B., the Camp Secretary. Mr. B. later retired and Mr. Parry took up that office. A number of others, who were generally considered very fortunate, occupied the rest of the house, though in reality there was not much to choose between the various buildings and rooms, as we were all crowded; and most grew very weary of the sight of those who were so closely pressed upon them. Someone composed a song while in camp: I think every line began with "No longer..." I recall one line: "No longer to share a room with YOU!" (great emphasis on the YOU). And that is, I am afraid, rather the way we all felt. There was one corridor on which a number of small rooms opened, in each of which was housed one family alone. The occupants of these were so well pleased with themselves, that this corridor was familiarly known to the rest of the camp, as "Smug Alley".
Then in one huge block, made up it is true by several buildings, were the rest of us. The building marked "X" was a three-story building. The rest of the living quarters were in two-story buildings. The dining room was the old school chapel, a rather fine room, one story, with no ceiling. There was a large Gothic window in the back, quite high from the floor, and double doors in the front opposite it. A serving window had been cut through a side wall at the far end, into the pantry, through which food and water were passed as they came from the kitchen. The kitchen, pantry, storeroom, hot-water shop were all single-story buildings, some small and poor. An old gray brick wall, perhaps nine or ten feet high, ran all around the Compound, and shut us in, and sometimes made us feel very much "shut in".
There were four "ordained" men in camp, selected, I presume, by the British Residents' Association in Shanghai, to whom was entrusted the entire charge of Protestant religious affairs. Besides these, three of the doctors were missionaries, and most, if not all, of the nurses. A number of the teachers of the Girls' School were also missionaries. The headmaster of the Boys' School was one of the ordained men just mentioned, and another was the English and History teacher.
There were many Roman Catholics in the camp, but at first there was no Roman Catholic priest. An Irish Roman Catholic carpenter acted somewhat as leader of the Roman Catholics until a priest arrived. This priest was a man past middle age, and was at first very zealous in seeking converts. He had not been in camp long when he was sent a helper. This was a young man, born in Ireland, but brought up and educated in the United States. He was tall and dark and, although slight, was well built. He was a Jesuit, and tremendously keen about everything he did. He was a fine softball player, and put all his energy into a game, as indeed he did into everything he touched. Many a morning as I have been cutting the bread for breakfast, have I listened to him speaking to his flock. I do not think I will ever forget one morning in particular. I forget what the occasion happened to be, but the dear man himself I hope I may never forget, nor his words. Tall, and dark, and gaunt, he stood before a crowded congregation, who listened breathlessly: his great arms were stretched out towards them, the tears were running down his cheeks: you could hardly call it preaching! I think he had forgotten where he was: his words came in snatches, as they seemed to be forced out of his very heart. He told of the sufferings and the death of Christ the Savior: he told the story as only one could who loved Him; and every now and then he would stop, and lean towards the people, and almost with a cry, he would say: "And it was all for you! It was all because He loves you so!" Rarely have I ever enjoyed any human words so much. That afternoon I met him walking in the grounds, his head bent, looking sad and discouraged. I took his hand, and said: "If nobody else enjoyed your sermon this morning, I can tell you of one: it did me good." He wrung my hand, and putting his left hand on his heart, he said: "It's all in there, but this mouth of mine just can't tell it out; and those people, it's nothing to them, they just don't care." He was a dear and beloved brother in Christ, and I believe he honored the Word of God, and loved the Savior. Many a walk and talk have we had together, but he would not dare to say he knew his sins forgiven, or that he had eternal life: but if, in desperation, I asked him if he knew the Savior loved him, his whole face would light up, and he would reply, "Yes, indeed, I know that, and I know I love Him.”
But there was another side that I saw with sorrow. Not only were the poor people taught the impossibility of ever knowing their sins forgiven through the work that Christ did for them on the cross, but they were also taught to worship and pray to a woman, a helpless created being like ourselves. This is idolatry, and the Bible says again and again of man-worship, "See thou do it not." The long queue for confession to a man made one's heart ache, knowing that they were going to the wrong priest, while the Great High Priest on high waited in vain for them to come to Him.
“One Priest alone can pardon thee,
Or bid thee go in peace,
Can breathe those words `Absolvo te',
Or make those heart-throbs cease.”
and that Priest may be known by the wounds in His hands. The mass, too, I have watched. "An unbloody sacrifice," but "without shedding of blood there is no remission." Oh, my beloved Roman Catholic friends, go to the Word of God yourselves. God has given it to you, and you will be held responsible for how you have used this mighty gift. No man, no matter who he may be, has the right to turn you from that most precious Book. Go and learn for yourself what God has to say about these matters, and may you find, as millions before you have found, the Peace, the Rest, the Joy that comes from eternal forgiveness; no more conscience of sin, and the certain knowledge of eternal life. These things are clearly taught in the Bible. Read it for yourself. And remember that same Word says: "Come out of her, my people, that ye be not partaker of her sins, and that ye receive not of her plagues" (Rev, 18:4). But "Father" James, as he used to call himself to me, was one of my best friends in camp.
There were two services each Sunday in the Protestant church, taken in turn, or shared, by the four men previously mentioned. Three of them took the title of "Reverend", and the fourth had a different title. We were, for the most, strangers to each other.
In view of the abnormal circumstances in which we found ourselves, we began to attend the services in the church. To us they were profoundly disappointing. Some were moral addresses, exhorting the hearers to keep the law, or to do as they would be done by. Plenty of "Good Advice", but no "Good News". Other addresses were more marked by eloquence, but utterly devoid of anything that would point a sinner to Christ, or stir the heart of one who loved Him. Very occasionally by a certain one of the four, the simple Gospel was preached, and hearts were warmed by listening to one who himself knew what it was to be lost and to be found: but he rarely spoke, and when he did his addresses were often more for believers than for the unsaved. As a general rule the sermons took for granted that all who heard were true Christians, although this was far from being the case, and thus people were lulled to sleep with a false sense of security. How one longed to hear a fearless, solemn, faithful warning to the lost, of SIN and its penalty: and what it meant to go on without Christ. How one longed to hear a clear, ringing message of salvation through the death of Christ alone, and of a full and glorious pardon for the most guilty, through His most precious blood! The beautiful types of the Old Testament were denied and ridiculed.
A choir was organized to lead the singing. The only requirement for joining was a willingness to study music. It never seemed to cross the minds of any, except one, that the Lord might refuse to accept praises from those who openly denied Him through the week; or that Christian Science, denying the Deity of Christ, disqualified its followers for such exalted service.
Week by week we heard it said: "I believe in the forgiveness of sins." But never, as far as I am aware (with the one exception mentioned), did any ever tell the hearers how they might have their sins forgiven. Never did the speaker bear testimony that his own sins were forgiven, and before the camp closed it was openly taught that anyone was blaspheming who claimed the certain knowledge of forgiveness of sins, or the present possession of Eternal Life.
An opportunity of a lifetime was lost.
And the hungry sheep looked up unfed.