ONE OF THE COMMONEST words in Camp was "Perks". I suppose if you looked in the dictionary you would not find it, but "Perks" became an unfailing topic of conversation. It is short for "Perquisites", and described everything that a worker might be able to get for himself out of his particular job, over and above his allotted share of Camp supplies. The Bakery had the reputation of having the best "Perks". Here one could get a little extra bread, and it is said the bakery workers even got some sugar. Then it was always possible to do a little private cooking, or to get a jug of hot water. These things were by no means to be despised; and the Bakery generally had a long waiting list of those who wished to work there. The kitchen, and the hospital kitchen, also proved attractive to some through the "Perks" to be found there.
But there were other jobs that not only provided no Perquisites but took an unusual toll on clothes and shoes. Perhaps the worst job in Camp was that of trying to keep the sewers and drains open and in proper working order. When we first arrived, a young man, James T., was put on this job, and for the two years and seven months we were in Camp, Jimmie cheerfully and faithfully cared for the Camp sewers. All were in bad shape when we came into Camp; many blocked up and useless. It was generally during a heavy rain that the sewers behaved worst, and many a time have I seen Jimmie out in the pouring rain, opening up some blocked sewer, and doing more than most to keep the Camp clean and healthy. It was considered the common privilege of Campers to grumble, but I never heard a complaint or a grumble from Jimmie T. In his leisure hours, one might find him deep in some learned treatise, or poring over French or Latin. He and I acted together for some time as night-watchmen, so I learned to appreciate in a special way this quiet, conscientious, clever young man. Another distasteful job, that also yielded no "Perks" was cleaning the lavatories and the laundries. Garbage collecting was also very much hated. The great backbone to all this disagreeable work was our good friend Mr. S., who at one time lived on the same compound with us at 31 Brenan Road. He was, indeed, one of our oldest friends in China, and his family and our own were very near in age. His wife and one daughter and a son came with him to Camp. Two sons and two daughters were widely scattered, so his anxieties were very much like our own. The daughter in Camp was a fine Christian girl, and helped in the hospital, and his son D. carried out most ingenious repairs in the workshop. In the early days of our Internment, someone who had brought up a very good spring bed, was horrified to find that before long it became infested with bugs. He took it out doors, took it all to pieces, threw away the springs, and I fancy threw away the greater part of the bed. D. carefully gathered up those springs, and had hid them away, they were made of good quality spring steel, and many was the needle, or awl for shoe repairs, that he made from those discarded springs.
Mr. S.'s youngest son, G., was at the China Inland Mission School in Chefoo; and when the Japanese seized the Schools, G. was interned with the other school-children, first at Chefoo, and later at Wei Hsien. About half-way through our Internment, G. joined his parents, and entered the Boys' School in the Fifth Form. He had been very brightly converted while at Chefoo, and was a very welcome addition to our Yangchow Camp. He was never afraid or ashamed to confess his Lord, and took a bold stand for what he believed to be right. Mr. S. himself was a Mechanical Engineer, who had come out from England as a missionary. During the dark years of depression those supporting him found it impossible to carry on their help, and he came to Shanghai with his family, and took a position with one of the large shipping companies in that city. Nearly all through our captivity, in spite of very poor health, Mr. S. superintended in a most capable manner those disagreeable jobs I have previously mentioned, and generally kept this end of the Camp running.
One of the most disagreeable incidents during our internment happened to Mr. S. He was in charge of what might be termed the "Works Department", as well as the jobs I have just tried to describe. When the fifty Belgians were sent to our Camp from Tientsin, some place had to be provided for them to sleep, as we were already overcrowded. It was decided to tear out the cubicles that had been built in a large old building to make a bath-house, and to build rooms instead for the Belgians. There was so rarely any water available for bathing that it was no serious loss. The doors and other material from these cubicles were stored with the Japanese. As I recall the story, Mr. S. wanted the use of one of the doors for some Camp work; and applied through the proper channels to the Japanese Commandant, who agreed to the use of the door. The Commandant was called away soon after this; and our particular persecutor, the store-keeper, took the opportunity to punish Mr. S. because he had not applied through him. It was in the winter, and very cold. The ground was wet, though not frozen. The store-keeper insisted on Mr. S. kneeling for more than two hours on this wet ground in front of the Japanese office. An overcoat was sent to him, but he was not allowed to put it on, in spite of the fact that he was at the time a sick man, and should have been in bed. The whole Camp became furious. Mr. Grant tried to protest, but was refused a hearing. Then he resigned, and the Japanese began to realize that serious results might follow. An apology was insisted upon, and one Japanese, older and more sensible than the rest, agreed to apologize for what had happened, and the Camp breathed more freely once more. The result in the end was good, as not many weeks after this, the store-keeper was removed from our Camp, and when he left our worst enemy was gone.
Annoying orders were constantly being issued by the Japanese, generally small matters that were referred to in Camp as "pinpricks", but when people's nerves were over-wrought, little things appeared big, and with some the strain proved too much, and now and then one or another would have to be taken back to Shanghai and put in the institution where our American friend had gone. One order of this type was that everybody should number in Japanese when we appeared on parade. Up to that time we had numbered in English, but we were given notice that in future the numbering must be in the language of our captors. Almost nobody knew any Japanese, so our leaders prepared little cards with the English number on one side, and the pronunciation of the Japanese numeral on the other. The guards felt it a great triumph when this order came into force, but they were very much puzzled to see everybody on parade scratching themselves, and that instead of being cast down with this new evidence of Japanese might, they were only intensely amused. But the Japanese never could understand these British people anyway. Japanese numbers sound like this: "Itchie, Nee, San"; "One, Two, Three".
Sometimes large numbers of planes passed over our Camp, flying very high in an easterly direction. After a few hours they would return, still high, and pass away somewhere to the west. We believed they went to bomb Japan, and would anxiously count to see whether the same number returned as passed over earlier in the day. Once one plane was missing on the return journey, and later a lone plane came limping along by itself. We wondered if it was able to get back to friends, or was forced down amongst its enemies.
One morning while we were on parade, during the last winter, suddenly a lone plane appeared over us, not very high, and began figure writing in the sky. You can hardly imagine the excitement. We were not very certain what the plane wrote, though quite a few individuals were perfectly positive they knew, but the general impression was that an immense "V" was intended, and we thought probably it meant that Manila had been retaken. The Japanese were of course furious, and for some time after that Japanese planes would circle over us while we were on parade.
We went into Camp about the middle of March, and through the mercy of God we had very little more really cold weather. The summer was hot, as it always is in that part of China, but not as bad as it often is; and by the first autumn we felt that we had got through a bad time in a fairly successful manner. Even then we did not believe that it could be very much longer before we would be released; and hope kept hearts up.
That autumn Mr. S. asked if I would take over cleaning the ladies' laundry, in addition to my other duties, which had become quite heavy. I had full work at all meals, including pouring water at breakfast, and very often at tea at three to four o'clock, as well as the bread-cutting for breakfast. I also had the Sixth Form for Geometry in the Girls' School, a very delightful little bit of work, with a very few girls of exceptionally fine character. To the work in the laundry was soon added another obnoxious job, of filling a large "Gong", or earthenware tank, with water every morning, for cleaning buckets. On a cold winter morning, before it was light, this was a very unpleasant piece of work. With the preparation of the texts for the Gospel Chorus Service, there was little idle time.
After we went into Camp, Tien Chei did all in her power to guard our interests. She applied for our house for her residence, and was granted our bedroom with the sunroom off it. In this she put the best furniture, and kept the place locked, preserving much that we had never expected to see again. She raised money for parcels, searched the city for food, and packed and sent off these parcels, that meant so much to us. She received and passed on news to us in a most capable manner. She interviewed the Japanese, and did everything that could be done to guard and protect our interests. She took a position as nursemaid in a wealthy Chinese family, in order to support herself. At first they were very kind to her, but as their prosperity increased their kindness decreased; and finally when she got the opportunity to go and train as a nurse, which had always been her greatest desire, she entered the Chinese Red Cross Hospital (one of the best in Shanghai), as a probationer. She loved her work, and did extremely well in it. She also found many opportunities for speaking for her Lord; and I believe was used in blessing to some of the other nurses. But Tien Chei, though she looked well when we left, had not the robust frame that a nurse requires. Until one has been through it, a person can hardly comprehend the strain it must have been to interview the Japanese, and to carry on the work she did for us, well-knowing the risk it meant to her very life, So, I expect she was not altogether up to the mark when she entered the hospital. But it was a sad and terrible blow to us all when we got word that she had broken down in health, and she was threatened with tuberculosis, a threat which soon made her a very sick girl.