THESE MONTHS WERE VERY difficult and trying ones. Hardly a week went by that the Japanese did not have some new regulation to attend to, new reports to make, or old ones to make in a new way. The Book Room specially roused their suspicions, and we had endless reports to make about it: our stock, our buildings, our finances, where we got our money from, etc., etc. Our landlord had returned home on one of the repatriation ships, and had left the care of his property in my hands. I had quite a few interviews over this. There are three buildings on it. A very old house in rather bad shape, built of brick covered with roughcast. Second, a bungalow built of steel plates brought out from Scotland; and last, our warehouse, or godown, as we call it in China. It is built of brick. The Japanese sent for me once to know what these buildings were made of. They asked about the old house in which we lived, and about the go-down; and forgot to ask about the middle house, the one made of steel plates. Had they asked about this almost certainly they would have immediately sent and taken all the steel plates of which it was built. Surely this was the Lord's doing; and another of His tender mercies. I might say that our landlord was a dear Christian man, one who commits all his cares to the Lord; and we did rejoice that the Lord so honored his faith.
Our compound was surrounded with an old split bamboo fence. It was dry as tinder. Next to us, on the south side, was a huge field that had been used as a garbage dump, but now was covered with refugee straw huts. There were such camps on almost every bit of vacant land in Shanghai, and it was a terrible thing when one of these straw villages caught fire, as they not infrequently did. The fire chief told me that if there was a wind, it was quite hopeless to put out such a fire, and that in our case, our house had not a chance. We had a high brick wall built just opposite the house on the south side, but it would be terribly futile in case of a fire. Before war broke out, one night about midnight John was having a bath before getting into bed, when suddenly through the bathroom window he saw a great light. A straw hut built against our fence on the north corner was on fire, and the flames were shooting high into the sky. Quickly he called the fire brigade (and it is said Shanghai had the second best fire brigade in the world), then he wakened us. We rushed down and tried to fight it, but it mocked our efforts, and was already rapidly spreading south and east along our old fence. Our servants' quarters, where Mrs. Chung and her older children slept, were on fire, and in a few moments it would reach a small wooden two-storied house we had built for Mr. Chung when he was so ill; now two of the younger children slept upstairs in it. Before I could get the second child out of that house the stairs were burning, and my arm was scorched bringing him out. We broke down the fence where the fire was spreading south, in the hope we might hinder it reaching the main straw village, for that would have been an awful calamity, with the hundreds, or thousands, crowded into what in a few moments might become one vast furnace of flame, and almost no way out.
While we were working on this part of the fence, the flames had traveled eastward till they were just at our house. We gave up hope, and began to get together what things we needed most, so that we might save a little. Just then the Fire Brigade arrived. It was pitch dark, but with coolness and no apparent hurry, in a few moments they had the hoses ready; everything spoke of efficiency, and it was easy to see the men were accustomed to such emergencies. Our house was far back from the road, down a lane, and very hard to get at. The roads in this part of Shanghai were controlled by the Municipality, hut the land away from the roads was under Chinese control. Just as the Brigade were ready to turn the hose on the fire, a Chinese policeman arrived to question their right to come on Chinese territory. The Fire Chief did not stop to argue the point, but merely turned the hose on him, and the last I saw he was rolling over and over in the mud in the dark. He did not wait for further argument. It was not many moments before we could see a change, and in perhaps ten minutes the fire was out, and we were saved. "Oh that men would praise the Lord for His goodness, and for His wonderful works to the children of men!”
It was by no means the last fire, and so in spite of poverty we kept our telephone, as it was the only means of communicating with the Fire Brigade. Through the mercy of God, never again did the fires ever assume the seriousness of that first one. There is a regular system about handling a fire in a straw hut. You knock out the supports and the heavy thatched roof falls on the fire, and smothers it; if you are in time, and all goes as it should. I had not realized the strain the constant fires and thieving were to the children until I was at home this time, when they spoke of what it meant in Canada to be able to go to bed without expecting to be wakened in the night with alarm whistles blowing and have to rush to see if it was fire or thieves.
These neighbors of ours in the straw-huts provided a nice Sunday School, and we grew very fond of many of the children. We generally went through the village every Lord's Day afternoon with tracts, so that we knew a great many of the people there. There were said to be over four thousand people housed on that field. A clinic that our sons had carried on had made friends with many of them.
Another specialty of the Japanese at this time was their "Blockade" system. Signal bells were placed in various parts of the city, and at any moment these bells might ring; then ropes would be tied across the road at every block, and nobody was permitted to pass these ropes. One might be held for hours in this way. In case an attack was made on a Japanese, the whole block, or perhaps several blocks, would probably be blockaded in this way for days, or even weeks; and the suffering of the people was unspeakable. It was reported that in some instances hundreds died of starvation through this horrid torture.
Our houses were searched, and all our furniture, carpets or rugs, curtains, etc. were listed and labeled as belonging to the Japanese, and nothing was allowed to be moved. In this and a hundred other ways, a war of nerves was kept steadily going on, all through those first sixteen months.
Then, one morning (I think it was November, 1942), about five o'clock, the Japanese soldiers raided many houses, and hundreds of men were carried away, some to be locked up in a special camp at Haiphong Road; and others to be sent to "Bridge House", formerly a large apartment building, now the place to which the Japanese took their unfortunate victims for torture; and in the art of torture, the Japanese are experts. Nobody knew when his turn might come. Chinese who had a grudge against a foreigner had their opportunity of revenge now, and had only to "inform", either truly or falsely, and probably in the dark of some early morning, a truck of Japanese soldiers would arrive and carry the victim off, hardly giving time to throw on a few clothes. In those days we lived with a suitcase packed with the necessities of life, and were ever ready to be seized. Again we may say, through the tender mercy of God, our household was spared this trial.
In the early days of the war a Japanese truck half filled with books, and with five marines in it, drove up to our branch shop at the corner of Avenue and Hardoon Road. Our brother was alone in the shop, and saw with dismay that they had come to seize our stock. He is by nature very timid, and he felt this was more than he could endure. The marines jumped down from the truck and made for the shop door; but before they could enter, a stranger, a Chinese gentleman, neatly dressed, entered the shop ahead of them. For some unknown reason they seemed unable to follow him, and loitered about, looking in at our four large windows, but they did not enter. This was about nine in the morning, and they stayed around until after eleven, but never set a foot inside the door. The stranger asked what the men wanted, and our brother explained that the Japanese were seizing the stocks from many of the book-shops in the city, and now had come to seize our stocks. They had prayer together, and the stranger comforted and encouraged him, and so the time passed. Our brother knows practically all the Chinese customers who come to the shop, but this gentleman was a complete stranger. At last the soldiers climbed into their truck and drove away. The stranger also left, without purchasing anything or even making any inquiry as to anything in the shop. When Mr.— told me the story, he ended by asking:
“Mr. Lee, do you believe in angels?"
"I do, Mr. —.”
“So do I, Mr. Lee." (My Chinese name is Lee).
But time would fail me to tell of all the mercies that daily attended our way. We had been having visit after visit from Japanese to our down-town shop on Yuen Ming Yuen Road. All sorts of reports had to be made, lists of stocks, inventories of furniture, etc., so we tried to clear out what we could. We sold our cash register, and every night when I went home I would take a load of books, or other stock, and we tried to spread this about amongst our friends, so that all might not be lost. A friend had insisted on leaving his typewriter with us at the Yuen Ming Yuen Road shop, while he went to Australia. We did not need it or want it, but I suppose our shop had seemed as safe a place as anywhere. Shortly before the war began this typewriter, and our own, were both stolen. We moved another typewriter away from the Avenue Road shop, and kept one old portable typewriter at the house; so the Japanese did not get these. We made a copy of our ledger, and kept it at the house, so that we could keep track of our accounts, in case the shop was seized.
I think it was Saturday morning, about 9:30, early in January, 1943, that three Japanese suddenly arrived at the down-town shop, and announced that they were seizing it. I was alone there, and had with me the copy of the ledger in order to bring it up to date. I was given about five minutes or less to clear out, and was allowed to take nothing except my bicycle, and a little food I kept for my lunch. They took all our keys, closed the shop and departed.
I hurried round on my bicycle to a friend, who also had a book shop, to give warning, so that if possible, at least the account books might be saved; but alas, when I arrived I found the place full of Japanese officials taking it over. I think the two branches of the Bible Society were seized that day, and various other book shops; but our Avenue Road shop was spared; how, or why, we do not know, except a Father's tender care.