Ch 22 - Moji, Japan

CHAPTER 22

MOJI JAPAN

TO OMORI

Unbelievably, the old freighter arrived in Japanese waters the following day. It was September 6, 1944 when the ship docked at Moji, a port city completely unfamiliar to any of us. Our cruise ship, the Noto Maru, had departed Manila during the last week in August and arrived at Moji at the end of the first week in September. It seemed to those of us locked in the smelly hold the voyage had lasted a month!

When the order came to disembark, we quickly discovered that getting the very sick up the ladder and off the old ship would be a difficult problem. Finally, it was decided most of the able bodied men would climb out of the hold and move down the gangplank to the dock and once the hold was cleared, the sick could be removed much easier. How easy, or difficult, I was not to know.

We were lined up and counted off, and I could see the Japs were breaking off large sections of the column, and these men were marched off to our left. I found myself in a smaller group led from the dock past several warehouses adjacent to the dock area. We finally arrived at a large open area which was obviously a railroad yard. Some of the tracks were empty, but most were occupied by various types of rail cars, mostly boxcars.

“Here we go again”, someone mumbled, “Back to the boxcars!”

I began to envision another ride, no air, no water and no food. Nothing was farther from the truth! First we were counted, then loaded into rather small, and very old passenger cars! After everyone was settled, large boxes were loaded onto each car containing “bento boxes”. These were passed out, one to each man. The boxes contained white rice, slices of dicons (large pickled radish) and some other vegetables. The food was very good! Could it be the food would improve? We would find out when we arrived at our destination.

Several hours passed before the train slowly began to move. While we were waiting we realized the food had helped our morale immensely. Some of the men were very weak from the trying experience in the hold of the old ship. The diet of barley had affected me much worse than some of the others, and it was a welcome sight to see rice in the boxes of food! While we waited, Japanese workers also brought large cans of water onto each car and this was also a welcome sight! The cans were positioned on large wooden stands at the end of the car, and each had a spigot near the bottom. It was hard to believe we could have all the water we wanted!

The train wove through the rail yards for what seemed like hours, moving very slowly. One of our officers told us he had been unable to learn anything concerning our destination, except we were going north. When we arrived in Moji, the weather was very good. Once we were away from the rail center the country-side was very beautiful. It was soothing to look out upon the greenery. What a contrast from the scenery in Manila and Cabanatuan. The bombed out buildings in Manila, half naked inhabitants and dusty streets never let one forget. Cabanatuan, clouds of dust always present, seemed far removed from the present.

Japan it seemed, was nothing like it had been portrayed by those “in the know”. It was green, seemed to have water everywhere. We had been informed it was crowded, people everywhere, hardly room to walk. Once the train left Moji, we observed few people, and very few motor vehicles. We did see endless small farms, neat little homes with gardens. This was hardly what we expected to see! In the distance, low purplish mountains could be seen off to our left. Frequently, the sea was visible to our right. The landscape was quite pleasant. I tried to see everything. Just past mid-day, the train pulled into a small town.

Shortly, more of the food boxes were put onto the car, and we enjoyed another bento box filled with the same and very welcome fare of this morning. While we were eating, the train began to move, and we were again on our way to...where?

We learned our destination was Tokyo! Everyone wondered why would they take us to Tokyo? It was a very long trip. During the night our train was put on a siding. We sat there for hours. I was able to sleep some, which would help the next day. I awoke when the car jerked hard, and I was told we were apparently changing engines. Finally, we began to move and once again we were on our way. The train passed through Osaka, Nagoya and several smaller cities as we progressed upward through the Japanese mainland toward its capitol, Tokyo. We were afforded an excellent cross section of the Japanese people and their way of life. I think we were all amazed at the large number of dirt roads, both in the country, and in the cities. The majority of motor vehicles were trucks, and most of these were army vehicles.

Word was passed through the car we would be disembarking soon, and we must be ready when the train stopped. Once again, the train entered another railroad complex and slowed until we were barely moving. When the train stopped we were hurried off the car and lined up and counted. Our column moved along to another train and we were ordered to climb aboard. This time there was no wait, the train began to move and we craned to see what we could, but there was nothing but tracks and warehouses to be seen. We learned some of the men had been split off and were apparently headed for another destination.

After several hours, I could see several large industries on both sides of the train, and it became obvious the train was approaching a large city. We soon learned we were entering the outskirts of Yokohama. Great factories dominated the horizon. As the train trundled along I began to think the huge city was all industry! Finally we began to see small houses across a large open space on the left [west] side of the train, and as the train began to slow, more residential areas began to appear in the distance.

To our right, the horizon was dominated by tall derricks, or cranes, for unloading ships. Through open areas between tall structures, many large ships could be seen. One man remarked that no evidence of bomb damage could be seen, which was disheartening to all of us. We often painted verbal pictures of the Yanks pasting Japan from end to end, but we would learn later, first hand, about Yank bombs and the pasting of Japan! But for now, the train continued to plod thru Yokohama.

Almost two hours passed before we arrived in Tokyo. Somebody says, “Well at least we are close to the Emperor! He’ll protect us from those bad guys! That brought a laugh!

The train continued onward, slowly, for some time. When it finally stopped we could see open trucks lined up near the track. We were unloaded from the railroad cars and lined up and counted, several times! Small groups were broken away, the men herded to some of the trucks. We heard a small group of men were diverted to another work camp in the Tokyo area. Those of us remaining climbed aboard two of the trucks and we were off! Our joy ride lasted about half an hour before the trucks pulled up to a narrow expanse of water. Just across the water a long strip of land ran parallel to the mainland. Ten or twelve barracks-like buildings were plainly visible. This was to be our new home. This was Omori Prison Camp, also known as “Headquarters Camp”, Tokyo Area. This also was to be our first encounter with British POW’s.

We were formed into a column of two’s and marched across a narrow bridge to the island, or whatever it was. The bridge was wide enough for a vehicle, and was of wooden construction. A dirt road curved to the left from the bridge and faded away upon reaching the first of the buildings standing to the left as we marched through the double gates of the compound. Immediately beyond the first building stood a very long structure, constructed much the same as the first one only much longer. Entering the compound, we were herded to the right past the long building, then to the left around the end. Just beyond lay another structure similar, but about half as long. We were marched past the end of this building, then left again, then halted just in front. Shortly, the door opened and a Jap walked out onto a small porch. This was our first encounter with Watanabe. He proceeded to inform us we were now guests at Camp Omori, Headquarters Camp. He told us we were here to work hard, and for nothing else. He mentioned several types of mayhem that would befall any who failed to follow orders. He did not shout and rave ala the White Angel. He left me with the impression he was a predator, a killer, and one whom would torture a helpless man with glee. At this moment I vowed to myself that I must stand clear of this Watanabe.

We were all soon to learn this man Watanabe hated officers, He devoted little of his attention to enlisted men, but I for one didn’t care to draw his attention. After he was finished we were broken into groups of four or five and guided to one of several barracks to bunk down. Standing in front of Watanabe’s porch and turning 180 degrees two rows of barracks were apparent. To the right there were five barracks, to the left there were three similar structures. The axis of the buildings were at right angles to the axis of the `island’. Five of us were assigned to the second barracks on the left. After entering the barracks, it was apparent the normal living conditions here far surpassed those in the Philippines. The buildings were constructed for the four seasons. An indicator the prisoners would face cold winters.

A wide aisle ran down the length of the barracks, bunks lined the aisle on each side, feet to the aisle, and head to the wall. Numerous types of pillows and blankets were apparent.

The five of us were broken up at this time due to availability, or the lack of five bunks adjacent to each other. Monte Greenlee, from Pt. Pleasant West Virginia, and I were assigned two of the bunks, and the other three men were split off and given bunks elsewhere in the barracks. Since we had arrived here in mid-morning, only a few of the men already guests of Omori Prison Camp were present. Greenlee and I placed our few possessions at the head of our bunks and sat down to wait for what was to come. A man came down the aisle and asked if we were among the “new” group that had just arrived. We told him yes, we had just arrived from the Philippines. We asked him what the place was like, about the food which is always first in the minds of POW’s. He told us to follow him, and in the next few minutes we were shown the whereabouts of the “benjo”, the kitchen, and during our `welcome’ tour we learned this man was a British soldier, one of many at Omori. He explained the various procedures predominant at the camp, the existence of several work details, some good, some not-so-good. He said the Shibara detail was the best. Not only did the men unload food among other things, from boxcars and sometimes barges, but many opportunities presented themselves for stealing various kinds of goodies packed in assorted kinds of containers! We certainly perked up upon hearing this choice bit of news!

The following day all the new men were awarded the opportunity to work for the Emperor! Sad to say, it was not our lot to unload boxcars! Most of the new men were placed on another work detail working at a Steel mill. I was expecting the worse when the open trucks arrived to carry us to the work place. We were lined up inside the gate and again experienced that famous Japanese tradition of “Bango”. Their process of counting prisoners of war, or any other grouping of people, animals and probably even insects! The Japanese are infatuated with “counting” things! After bango, we were marched out through the gate and again lined up, again counted off in small groups of about twenty and ordered into the waiting trucks.

The trucks slowly pulled out of open area outside the camp and proceeded out to the ‘street’ and turned left, then rumbled along slowly for sometime, allowing us to see the life styles of the inhabitants of Tokyo and its surrounding area. It was indeed strange to see the women, mostly clad in kimonos and wooden “clogs” on their feet. Many of the men rode bicycles. Bikes were everywhere! Apparently this was the prevailing mode of transportation for the masses. Also quite common was their electric “trains”, very similar to those found at home, and referred to as “inter-urban” cars, which also were operated by electrical overhead wires. Most of the trucks visible on the streets appeared to be army trucks. One type of vehicle the Japs sported was the army truck!

After a rather long, and uneventful ride, the trucks pulled up before a tall, chain-link type gate. The gate interrupted an also tall fence, disappearing into the distance, both to the right, and to the left. Inside the fence could be seen many very huge metal buildings seemingly constructed of corrugated metal. Apparently this was to be our workplace! When I asked the man next to me what we would be doing, and would we be working inside the buildings, he said that ‘some’ worked inside, but most worked outside, picking up scrap sheet metal and other junk. He said it wasn’t a bad place to work, that the ‘company’ fed us at noon, and the treatment was ‘ok’. My thoughts were, I myself, would be the judge of that!

We exited the trucks, three in number, and again lined up for the interminable counting-off process. We were then marched along for several minutes, lined up once again, and broken up into groups of about ten men. Each of the small groups were placed under the ‘command’ of a Jap group boss. These men were apparently civilians, although they wore apparel similar to army clothing. Of course, practically all of the Japanese men wore the small, green cloth “army” type caps. Somehow, I always felt these stupid looking caps gave all of the civilian men a “sense of army” feel. Perhaps they felt it afforded them an appearance of a ‘non-civilian’ status. The Japanese were a strange race, and their mannerisms were much different than our own. They were very conscious of their small structure, and “saving face” was indeed a way of life. It was very wise for the prisoner of war to learn quickly that any affront to their strange philosophy would often trigger severe retribution!

Our supervisor led us to an area where several small carts were parked. The carts were approximately three feet wide and three and a half long. The two wheels were similar to bicycle wheels, and the handle of the cart was located at the rear. A loop of tubing dropped vertically from the handle to rhe ground, and supported the cart in a nearly horizontal position. Our ‘boss’ spoke zero English, leaving the use of hand signals our only means of communication. This hardly presented a handicap, since our “duties” consisted of picking up bits and pieces of metal strewn everywhere on the ground. I often wondered if this “detail” consisted of “make-do” work. It seemed, at times, almost like digging holes and then filling them up again! But perhaps it was one of the many “typical Japanese projects” still evident when traveling in this country.

When the lunch period arrived, we were told to “Yasume” and food would be brought soon. Sure enough, one of the ‘carts’ appeared, pushed by one of the two civilian types accompanying the cart. Two large, steaming pots sat on the cart, covered by lids. We were herded into a line and as we passed the cart, one of the Japs would put several hot sweet potatoes in our mess kits! What a treat these morsels were! Now this gave us something to look forward to! After serving each of us, the two Japs returned the lids to the pots and pushed their carts off to the next group of POW’s working some distance from our location.

We learned the British POW’s were not impressed by the sweet potatoes! They were far more interested in working on the details in close proximity to the food sources! I was later amazed to learn the British soldiers working on the Shibara Detail were often “walking grocery stores” when they returned to Omori after a days work! After ‘bango’ was conducted inside the gate, the work details were dismissed and the men returned to their barracks. Once inside the barracks, these men began unloading! The magnitude of the various foodstuffs pulled from their apparel was mind boggling! I watched as some of the British Army POW’s removed their coats, their shirts, etc. and revealed a two foot long, smoked salmon, hanging down their backs! A string, looped around the fish’s tail, allowed the fish to hang down the men’s back. The other end of the string was of course coiled about the men’s neck! I watched as the men pulled up their pants legs and revealed various small jars and small bottles of pickled onions, meats and even peanuts in the shells, all stuffed into their socks and sometimes hanging down their pants legs in small bags. How these men were able to pass the scrutiny of the guards at the gate will always remain a mystery to me. I was soon to realize that these resourceful British soldiers were very accomplished thieves.

As the days wore on, I became more aware of other happenings, and some of the other occupants of Omori. I met, and talked with some of the defenders of Wake Island. I learned of the battle of Wake Island and some of the personalities involved in this very interesting story. I was to meet Lt. Col. Pike, one the more imposing military officers I have had the pleasure to encounter. Col. Pike was closely associated with Gen. Chenault, and the Flying Tigers. He was shot down over China in a P-40, and he proved to be a very interesting man! As mentioned earlier, Watanabe, who classified himself as the disciplinarian at Omori, had only contempt for American Officers. Col. Pike was continually the recipient of Watanabe’s wrath. During my stay at Omori, I witnessed several of these inhuman events forced upon the Colonel by Watanabe!

American Officers were compelled to operate the “honey dippers” used to dip the human waste from the ‘benjos’ located at Omori. The waste first was dipped from the toilets into large, wooden buckets, lifted onto archaic, wooden carts with crude wooden wheels, and pushed/pulled out to the “garden” area, where the contents of the buckets were ladled out onto the vegetables grown there. More often than not, the plants were peanuts. Forcing the officers to perform this disgusting task permitted Watanabe to humiliate the officers to the utmost extent.

Watanabe imposed numerous, hellish “punishments” on the American Officers. On one occasion, he forced an officer to stand in a tub of ice cold water all night, hands tied behind him, bare feet in the cold water. Another time, he forced an officer to kneel on a 2x8 board held on edge by several wooden stakes. The officer’s hands were also tied behind him. This torture lasted for hours. This man was a beast, cruel and intent on his mission to humiliate American Officers and induce fear among the captives confined in Omori.

I continued to work on the same monotonous work detail. I had hoped I might get out on the Shibara detail but it was not to be.

I had grown very close to Monte Greenlee over this period of time. I continued to miss Spence, each day sheltering the hope he would appear with the next group from the Philippines. Monte Greenlee assured me that Spence would probably be home long before I was, since the Yanks and Tanks would be roaring through the Philippines long before they reached Japan!

Greenlee was a very likable man, and we did have something in common! My father was also from West Virginia, as was Monte, and because of that, I had spent considerable time there during my youthful days. I had visited Pt. Pleasant many times, having relatives there, and we often talked of home and our kin. Another close friend was Lonnie Gray, also a very friendly man who hailed from Kentucky. The three of us had much in common and we often discussed, during free time, our hopes of going home soon.

On a typical work day, November 1, 1944, while we were picking up metal at the steel mill, the wail of sirens suddenly filed the air! Assuming it was a “dry run” as usually was the case, we paid little attention. But this time it was different! Something unusual was happening! Anti-aircraft guns began to speak!

“UP THERE!” A man shouted!

A long contrail stretched across the sky! From the southeast it stretched right across Tokyo! It was traveling to the northwest, then turned toward the north, then back to the south east! The guards were shouting at us to get in the “shelter” nearby. Some shelter! A trench about four feet wide and thirty feet long, covered with timbers. The timbers were covered with dirt. We watched the AA bursts exploding several thousand feet below the plane. I was unable to discern the actual aircraft, only the termination of the contrail. But we knew it was there! An American aircraft was flying over the heart of Tokyo! That evening, there was only one subject governing the conversation at Omori! Somehow, I think we sensed today’s major event was the beginning of the end! The flying officers were inundated with questions concerning the type of aircraft that could fly that high! What type of plane did we have with the ability to climb that high?

Most of us began to realize much time had passed since any of us were in contact with other than antiquated equipment, with the possible exception of the B-17 Bomber.

Perhaps the Yanks now were equipped with bombers capable of exceeding the height of the Japanese ack-ack fire! One thing was for sure! We were going to find out!

The Japanese guards persisted in trying to convince us it was a Japanese plane, that no American plane could fly over Tokyo, but of course we knew better! Why would the Jap anti-aircraft guns fire at a Japanese plane? Obviously because it was not a Jap plane! Who might be flying high over the Japanese capital? Why an American plane of course!

Just two days after the plane episode, I learned a seventy man group would be leaving Omori for a work detail. I was to find myself listed in this group. When we were called to line up outside, I asked one of the men about the selection process. Were the men in this group selected by the Japs, or perhaps by our officers? The answer was not to be found. No one knew just how we were picked! I scanned the lineup for familiar faces, but I was disappointed to find none of my immediate friends in the group.

CHAPTER 23

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