AND THEN... It was Sunday morning. I can remember it as if it were yesterday.
As usual I was down for the early morning water queue. (They had a new arrangement now for serving water, from the boiler house, and my kitchen duties had ended). I was standing next to Mr. S. The old, old subject again came up, and he remarked: “Well, I think we're in here for a long time yet.”
“I'm afraid we are," I replied, and that, I suppose, was the general feeling all through the Camp.
That morning when the Chinese women came in to take away the refuse, they brought us the astounding news that the whole city was seething with excitement through a report that Japan had surrendered. By the evening it was contradicted, but next morning re-affirmed. The Japanese became more and more intolerant, and we felt sure there must be something to it. This was the first time they had troubled to contradict one of our rumors, though they had warned us at other times that under no circumstances were we to listen to rumors, as they were always false. I should have explained before now that the Japanese had their agents or spies in the Camp, and scarcely a thing would happen that would not be reported to them within an hour or two.
This uncertainty continued for almost two weeks. One day the officer in command of the morning parade became so infuriated over some trifle that he walked off the parade ground without dismissing us, and hacking at the shrubs and flowers with his sword as he left. Finally one morning a guard noticed a man well past middle age, who happened to be standing with his heels not quite together. We were supposed to stand at attention, with heels together, and our hands by our sides, looking straight in front of us. This unfortunate man had failed to get his heels quite together, and a guard came behind him and kicked him. The Camp was furious; and Mr. Grant called on the Japanese Commandant and announced to him that the time had now come when we would no longer be treated in that way by his guards, as we had won the war.
“Who told you that you have won the war?”
“Never mind who told us; we know.”
“No news has come to me that you have won the war.”
“I'm sorry you have not heard, but we have heard, and we know, and we are not coming out on parade any more.”
“Oh, all right.”
So then we knew it must be true, or the Commandant would never have agreed to let us stop parade. That afternoon a letter came from the Swiss Consul advising us that Japan had surrendered. The letter also instructed us to remain in our Camp until permission came from Shanghai to leave, and that it had been arranged that the Japanese would continue looking after the Camp until the Allies could take over.
“Hope deferred maketh the heart sick, but the desire accomplished is sweet to the soul." How different life seemed after that! We all thought that in a week or two now we would be free. But about eight long weeks had to go by before that time arrived.
We had used our parcel supplies as sparingly as we possibly could, fearing that we might have another winter to put in, and with Tien Chei training in the Hospital, and little or nothing left that could be sold, we felt it wise to reserve them for darker days ahead. But now we knew we could use them freely, and even this made life easier. One day my wife remarked, "How I would love some canned peaches!" It would be peach season just then in her home in Hamilton. But there were no peaches, fresh or canned, to be had in our Camp. The next day there was tremendous excitement—an airplane! The first to visit our Camp since we arrived, except the one that wrote on the sky for us when Manila was retaken. Back and forth it went, over the Camp, and then away out over the Chinese fields in the country it would circle, and soon would be back once more. It was flying low. What did it want? Suddenly the bottom opened up, a great shout went up from the crowd below, and in a few seconds we heard a terrific crash, the whole house shook, and then all was still. We three had been sitting on my bed from which we could look out of the window. I rushed to the door, to find the passageway filled with dust, broken plaster and debris. The plane had dropped a fifty gallon steel drum filled with supplies. They had missed the great grounds of the Camp, and got a fair hit right on the roof of the largest building in Camp. It came through the roof, smashing the roof beams and joists; it struck two iron beds that were standing close together in Mr. and Mrs. H.'s room, crashed with these beds through the floor, splintering the joists as if they had been matchwood, through another bed in the room below, grazing the wall, and finally was brought to a standstill half through the next floor. It landed about ten feet from where we were sitting, and the drum was filled with canned peaches! Only a few seconds before some of the people in these rooms had gone out into the hall, or they would almost surely have been killed.
After that the plane was afraid to drop anything more inside the grounds, and went over the fields outside the city, and package after package was dropped. A few landed in ponds, or the city moat, but most fell in the fields around. One completely demolished a small Chinese house, and injured a boy, but he recovered. You who have never been in China, could not, I think, conceive of the rapidity with which a crowd collects in that land. Something happens in a spot where there seems to be nobody, and there gathers in no time, like magic, a great crowd. And so it was in this case, and much was lost. The American officers in charge of the Camp arranged with the Japanese authorities that the Campers should be allowed to go out and collect what had been dropped. The guards accompanied us to see that we did not run away. How good it was to be outside those walls! Except to cross the street to help carry water from a well outside the front gate, in a crisis, on two or three occasions, this was the first time we had been outside the gate since that memorable day when we first came in. How good the country seemed! How delightful to be free once more! How friendly the people were! How readily the children tried to learn to sing a verse of "Jesus Loves Me.”
Each bundle dropped was fastened to a parachute. They were made of silk, of bright colors, some red, others blue, or yellow, or gold. How pretty they were as they dropped from the plane! And what an abundant supply of good things! Food of every description, and clothing, boots and shoes, (Oh, how we needed them!) underclothes; handkerchiefs, even; shirts; coats; everything we needed. And the parachutes were divided up amongst the ladies; my wife and my sister each got a third of a lovely shade of blue.
One of the guards pulled his gun on a crowd of Chinese who were taking one of the bundles. In an instant they threw him down, and I have little doubt would have killed him, had not some of the Campers come to his rescue. As it was, they insisted he kneel down in front of them, bow his head to the dust, and apologize for what he had done. The Japanese were beginning to find out they were no longer the masters.
No doubt much was lost, but much was rescued, and we all came back to Camp loaded down with all we could carry. And that was not the last time the planes came. They learned later just how to drop the things, and bundle after bundle was dropped in our own back field. Our rescuers saw to it that we wanted for nothing from the day that they took over.
The first of the Allied forces to reach our Camp was a young American officer with two or three men. They brought with them an immense Chinese "Corry" (a kind of large straw suitcase, that can be pulled in or out, as need requires). This was bursting with money. We could see bills of huge denominations sticking out all around. But how good it was to see a friendly face from outside once more! We all collected in front of the church to welcome him, the spot that used to be out-of-bounds, reserved for the Japanese; but we had no need to fear them anymore. He stood on the church steps and said a few words to us, and we accompanied him across the Compound to Room No. Seven, that was borrowed from the gamblers for the accommodation of our deliverers. Quietly and efficiently our new friend went over the camp, asking what we needed most, and it was no time before we had an abundance of brushes and brooms, pails and tubs, rakes and shovels, things we had needed so badly to do our work; and food, the best food the neighborhood could supply, and all we could eat, was soon provided. But the strange thing was that now we had the food-good food, and in abundance, it seemed as though we could not eat it, and those who did eat somewhat freely, soon regretted it. I suppose it took time for our stomachs to become accustomed to the new conditions.
Some little time later, a young British officer came up and took over. He soon restricted the Japanese guards to a very small corner of the Compound, and a little later told them to go. The Commandant was a bit inclined to resent his authority. The officer commanded, "You go and get me a horse, and get it quickly!" The Commandant meekly obeyed, and there was no question after that as to who was in authority. This officer with two or three others organized parties and took the campers out for long walks in the country. This was an excellent thing to do, and was an unspeakable help to everybody. He also arranged that we might go in small parties, nominally accompanied by a Japanese guard, into the city and do some shopping. Marshal Chiang Kai-Shek had sent us each a gift of money, and several wealthy Chinese gentlemen in Shanghai had also made us similar presents, so we had funds to buy things. 'What fun it was, after those years behind the walls!
But best of all, we were allowed to write all the letters we liked, and they were not censored, and did not have to be only 25 words, nor did they need any postage. As soon as the Commandant was turned out, the British officer who took over, found over a hundred letters for the campers lying in his desk, undelivered. And cards came from the children at home, and from Mr. and Mrs. Collier, and we began to understand how it must have felt, when "the Lord turned the captivity of Job.”
Towards the end of our captivity an entirely new Camp Committee had been elected, composed largely of business men or city workers. Feeling ran very high at this time. Some of those on the Committee had been elected to it almost every time elections had been held; but now these were all turned out of office, and quite new faces appeared. This made it very much easier to get permission to put up a text. On the several occasions I asked for such a privilege, the request was granted at once. Thus encouraged, I had prepared part of Psa. 126, to be ready in case word of release should come:
“When the Lord turned again the captivity of Zion,
We were like them that dream.
Then was our mouth filled with laughter,
And our tongue with singing:
Then said they among the heathen,
The Lord hath done great things for them.
The Lord hath done great things for us;
Whereof we are glad.”
As soon as definite word of victory came, I got permission to put up this text, just under the Camp clock by the dining room door. I think it was a surprise to many to find that the Bible had just the right words to fit every occasion. How well does it understand man. How well does it enter into every detail of our daily life. How well for us if we have accepted it as our Guide and Counselor through the wilderness of this world. "Happy is that people, that is in such a case: yea, happy is that people, whose God is the LORD" (Psa. 144:1515Happy is that people, that is in such a case: yea, happy is that people, whose God is the Lord. (Psalm 144:15)).
Those became rather trying days, in spite of the fact that Chinese coolies were brought in to help. I was still garbage-man at that time. After our American friends arrived, I had two or three Chinese coolies who were supposed to help in the work. But people seemed to lose all sense in their excitement, and the great fifty gallon drums used as garbage containers were filled to overflowing with things people cast away rather than take the trouble to pack and take home. My coolies were so busy sorting over these things, fighting amongst themselves over the loot, and watching to see that no other coolies should get a share, that we would have been just as well off without them.
When the planes were dropping supplies, often tins of jam or other foodstuffs were broken, and immediately began to breed flies, so that the days were rather full trying to keep the Camp clean. Added to these difficulties we had continual rain, and everything became so water soaked that the garbage would not burn, and Jimmie and I used to dig great pits and bury it. But they were pleasant, happy days, with the hope of freedom ever drawing nearer, and the prospect of soon seeing our loved ones again.
We all spent our spare time packing, unless we were mending our trunks; but our American friends were wonderful. They provided vast supplies of good rope, and locks, and skilled workmen to rope the trunks and bundles. Their forethought and generosity and efficiency were wonderful, not to mention the courtesy shown by both the American and British officers to each other; for both were in Camp at the same time, making sometimes a rather difficult situation. But they always worked together in harmony. As the trunks were packed they were sent down to the dining room, where they were roped if necessary, and the name clearly printed on them; and then they were piled up in an orderly fashion under the care of one of our own men.