Embedded Files
Summer 1941. Japan is pursuing a war of aggression in Asia, and the United States, while not yet at war, begins to build up a garrison on Wake Island, an atoll in the Pacific half way between Hawaii and Japan. With Marines of the First Marine Defense Battalion and Morrison-Knudson civilians, construction begins. My uncle, Edwin Hassig, is a 30 year old Technical Sergeant with the Marines. These are the letters he wrote home, before the war, and as a POW. At the end is his account of his time as a POW, written after the war.
Dear Mother, Sunday August 24, 1941
Finally, after more than two weeks we are at what will be our home for the next three to ? months.
To me it seems the longest time I have ever spent going a measly 2,000 miles [from Hawaii]. The whole trip was fine except for one thing: we sailed too slow. Not much on this place – a few runty trees, sand, coral, rats, and a million or two birds. The island is a rough horseshoe shape about 7 miles long, and at its widest point, one mile wide. The open side of the horseshoe is protected by a coral reef over which the surf rolls. Pretty hot most of the time, but a constant breeze keeps the heat moving. Our quarters are pretty nice. Tents over screened in frames. I don’t think it will be too bad here for a limited time.
Only one thing I am sure of around here for the next two months is that is work. I have a pretty good idea of the work it takes to install equipment such as ours and we have lots of it. Unloading from the ship was the toughest job I have ever seen but installation will be a longer one.
I hope you can read this – my right hand is on the bum due to a knife cut. Next Sunday I hope to cut will be gone but I expect the hand will be stiff and sore from work. Hope all of you are in good health.
Hello to my old friends.
Your loving son and brother,
Edwin
Dear Mother, Wake Island Sunday, August 31, 1941
I received two letters from you today. One mailed July 30 and the other August 11. The latter did some fine going when you consider the rather poor connections it must take to get out here. A ship touched here for an hour this morning to put off mail. That was no nice job as a ship must anchor out to sea and at the present time we are on the tail end of a nice storm. The ocean is just boiling–mad as it breaks over the reefs.
You should have seen us tie and nail down Friday night. We were warned of a storm which was to strike early Saturday morning. Luckily it turned before it got here and we only had a sample. It seems to me this would be a poor place when the waves get too high. The highest point of ground is only 25 feet above sea level.
All of us had been working pretty hard – I guess we will continue to do so. Heat? It sure gets that way during the afternoon. I hope we don’t have any trouble with heat stroke. Some of the lads are a bit too ambitious for the afternoon heat. This is the first place I have ever seen people work during the afternoon, but it is important.
Still have no word on how long we will stay here. I don’t care too much. Really this is not a bad place and if we finish the installation work we should have plenty of time to fish and fool around. Only one thing: I have a feeling another outfit will relieve us when the hard work is done. Our battalion you know is the most experienced in the Marine Corps at this type of work.
Glad to hear Sophia is doing good. As for Lois going out there-I haven’t a word to say about that. But If she is needed by you, keep her. Also, you can be more sure she gets to school if she is with you. It is nice to hear your garden is so good. Frieda being so near also makes things better. Feeling just fine: black as a nigger from wearing shorts in the sun and raising a mustache. Hello to my old friends.
Good Luck!
Your loving son and brother,
Edwin
[Letter to a buddy Sgt. Malanowski still in Pearl Harbor] Wake Island September 26, 1941
Dear Ski:
Your letter of September 14 arrived yesterday, ten days after you mailed it. For the time spent it seems almost like a waste of postage to send it by air. Don’t get the idea I wasn’t pleased to get the letter though- there is so much impossible crap floating around here that I am glad to a little dope from the place where all this high powered stuff is supposed to originate. On four bibles and the honor of a quarter master sergeant the Sixth is on its way out here to relieve us. Nuts - !.
There is really not much dope from here Ski. My hands are stiff and blistered from filling and tying sandbags. One position takes near 3,500 bags. That includes a three-sided structure six feet high for the power plant, a circular gadget, chin high, for the control station, and two fox holes. That may seem like a small job to require two weeks of work, but that is the time required. Every one of the men works hard for me, but I hardly ever manage to have over four or five of the eleven with me at one time. There is always so many extra jobs that take a man or two.
In fact, the first two weeks we were here all we did was quartermaster work. Partly due to the fact that we could get very little gas for any of the trucks. We arrived here sort of on one foot. All in all it could be a lot better on the working and detail end, but where is the Marine Corps couldn’t it always be worse? There are a few things that could be better – I mean a lot better.
This chow is bad. Rotten! We don’t get any too much and what we do get in constructed, not cooked, by the rottenest gang of bums you ever saw. Carr and his slum bums have forever put all cooks on the top of my shit list. It’s a dirty shame to feed men as they do when they work so hard.
We have only salt water in our wash and shower rooms but a man can take a bucket and tap the fresh water. For recreation we go to the movies at the [Morrison-Knudson] construction camp about five miles from here. Fishing is pretty good but I prefer to hunt shells.
Sorry to hear Pickens and Tate flunked the sergeant exam, but you know as well as I do what property room jobs do for a man. Odious as 136 instruction is, it has its good points when a man goes up for promotion.
Say hello to the gang for me and my slaves. Shores and Smith cut cards today for the mess hall; Smith lost. Tell Si to have a scotch and soda for me. Good Luck!
Your Pal,
“Peep”
Have my nose in a scad of books over on xxxx the captain just gave me. The whole thing seems helpless at present.
[Ed Hassig’s nickname in the Marine Corps was “Peepsight”, on account of his marksmanship.]
[In four years in the Army, I never knew an NCO that ever got blisters on his hands! (Dewey Hassig)]
Dear Mother: Wake Island November 11, 1941
I postponed this letter because I was quite sure a ship was due in about today, and I knew I would have a letter from you. I did: one dated October 17. Every ship that touches here brings mail. Even that isn’t very often so “mail days” are welcome by all of us. But with our mail also come the hard working details of unloading.
That unloading is really I grind. When a ship comes in all the men are split into two groups and between them they work 24 hours per day until the ship was empty. 36 to 40 hours is about all it takes us. I shouldn’t say “us” either. I haven’t been on an unloading detail for a long time. That is proper military etiquette. Supervision of such details is of minor nature: let the junior NCO’s take care of them.
The rain which was on our heels so persistently for some weeks past seems to have gone to another quarter. I am sure glad. We have lots of work to do. Strange too, I rather hate to see quitting time most every day. I always have just one more little job I want my men to finish before they quit. I am perhaps in better working condition at the present time that I have been in many a month.
Are Frieda and Bud going to have anyone to look after the house while they are gone? What is this four months to Minnesota? A vacation. Which I could get four months to North Dakota. I believe you would be a loser in the long run to move into their house for four months.
This business of Lois being homesick pleases me. Perhaps she will be home to keep you company before you expect it. I hate to hear of Frank not going home on a visit after his tour of army duty. I guess you are right about your boys never coming home. How many years has it been since you saw Joe and Frank?
I know it is over 4 years since I have been home.
If Frank is going on some national defense work after his discharge there is a remote chance he may have in mind going to one of the Pacific Islands like Wake. There are nearly a thousand workmen on this island busy preparing it as a defense outpost. Warships, planes, and submarines may someday call here for fuel, food and a short rest. All this work may someday be very important. Jobs here sure pay good money but after all, there isn’t a thing here but work and pay. It has to be good.
Still study for that examination I dread and expect some day. Hope it don’t show up to 6 months.
Greet my old friends for me period. Good Luck!
Your loving son,
Edwin
Dear Mother, Wake Island November 17, 1941
I have no idea of how long it generally takes a letter to get into your hands when I send it by boat. A month at least, I calculate. That would be too slow for this particular letter. I would like to have you get this money about December 1st. Everything a man plans ahead out here comes out late. We were supposed to be paid on November 5th, but today was really pay day. Now I have to wait until another ship comes in before I can get a money order. Our post office is so primitive we can’t get money orders, register or insure any form of mail. In fact the only way to do either of these things is to wait until a ship comes in and pay their post office a visit. Some of the men who have monthly payments to make sure have plenty of trouble. Strange the situation stays this way – after the next ship this will be on the way via [Pan Am] Clipper.
This money is just a little extra I had on hand so you may as well have it for Christmas. I don’t expect to be anywhere on time to mail or buy any presents so you may as well have the money I would foolishly spend.
Still feeling fine – working pretty hard. Only thing different is I have a spring bunk with a “Simmons” mattress instead of a canvas cot. Hello to my friends! Good Luck!
Your loving son,
Edwin
Don’t dare write too much – if this letter is over an ounce, it would cost you 35 cents to get it out of hock.
Dear Ski: Wake Island, November sometime, 1941
It just occurred to me that if I wrote you a letter today it would be only 4 or 5 weeks overdue. It could be much worse than that with me at the pen.
Really have been quite busy 6 days a week and most of my evenings seem to melt in a flack of little details that I always postpone until after supper just to keep the ball rolling during the day. Captain Platt is always busy on code so that leaves me so many things to look after that I feel like anything from a Police Sgt. to a sob–sister. Keeping busy though, makes me about half as lonesome for Pearl Harbor as most of the men. Believe me some of the married men sure worry about Honolulu now that Christmas is so close. Some are tired for this reason, others and mad at Wake for that, and indirectly it all adds up to that they want to go home.
The gang of men you mentioned in your last letter arrived here OK after coasting around for about three days waiting for the water to calm down. By now they are regular veterans on Wake. Glad to have them; we needed some help in building these positions.
Now that we have some men are next problem is trying to get some material to work with. Our noble quartermaster as you may suspect came out here without even a keg of nails. All the required lumber and such was to come from camp No. 2. At the present moment it is almost as easy to get a 4 x 4 as it is to thumb a ride to Ohio. Good old USMC, they want us to steal and chisel everything we need.
Constructing positions on Wake consists of two jobs: digging holes and building frames and getting material. The latter I detest.
Had my first injured man yesterday. Corporal Cooper had a fair size piece of meat and skin cut loose to the rear of his knee when a tractor backed down on him. We were working with the tractor and scraper digging a hole for a power plant. We were backing the tractor and scraper down the ramp, setting the scraper and pulling it out full of dirt. When the rear end of the pit was deep enough Cooper and I started to set a corner post while the tractor rig worked forward of us. All went like pie until xxxxx took the Cat from Smith. He started back down the hole and forgot how to stop it. All of us in the hole, five to six men, thought he was just trying to be funny – going back further than necessary, until almost too late to clear out. Sure lucky – always the man who wants to fool around who makes trouble.
How go things in the Harbor? Here there are some new outfits around. Perhaps one of them will relieve us for a scotch and soda by Christmas. The wind has been blowing with new vigor during the last three days. Perhaps another storm is on its way – sure get tired of the canvas and lashing always flopping.
Say hello to the gang back there.
Peepsight.
A scan of a postcard Ed Hassig sent to his older brother, Joe. Joe Hassig died in Sicily, later in the war.
Note the date, time and location of postmark - Dec 8, 1941. 10am, Pearl Harbor, HI, the day after the attack on Pearl Harbor.
[ “Yesterday, December 7th, 1941 -- a date which will live in infamy -- the United States of America was suddenly and deliberately attacked by naval and air forces of the Empire of Japan.” Thus begins World War II for the United States. Wake Island comes under Japanese attack several hours after Pearl Harbor. After three weeks of attacks, Wake Island was invaded by the Japanese and surrendered on December 23, 1941. There were nearly 10 Japanese fatalities for every American fatality. Ed was in a Japanese POW camp in Shanghai, China, most of the time, and in Japan later in the war. The letters below give no hint of the abuse and mistreatment they received. The content of the letters was strictly monitored and censored by both the Japanese and American military.]
Excerpt below from the book “The Story of Wake Island”, by Wake Island Marine Commander Major Devereux. After the surrender:
‘They (the Japanese) were marching (the Marine) prisoners toward us (Devereux) now. Most of the men were stripped to their skivvies. Some had lost even their shoes and were limping barefooted on the coral. They were exhausted, hungry, dirty and there was no hope. They had been shambling along, trailing after Sergeant Hassig, a barrel-chested man whose pride in life was his stripes and his busy mustache. It was a regular Guards mustache and it bristled as he told the struggling men: “Snap outta this stuff! God damn it, you’re Marines!” A few moments later they passed us as we were eating our raw fish. Sergeant Hassig was at right guide, shoulders back, mustache defiant. And the men - weary scarecrows – were marching in perfect cadence, heads up and eyes front, stepping out like a regiment on parade. The Jap guards had to trot to keep up with them. I felt pride at the sight of them marching by, at the bewilderment on the faces of the Japanese officers standing with me.’
Dear Mother: Shanghai POW Camp June 1, 1942
The chance to write you this letter comes as a blessing, but I hope it is not the first word you have of my existence though it may be the last till after the war. I am happy to tell you I am in good health, and my greatest hope is that I will be able to see you before to long. I trust the events past and those which may arise before I do see you will not cause you undue worry.
The weather at present is fine; our work and schedule is mere exercise. All points considered I have been lucky so far. Check my insurance to see if the premium is being paid. Write my friends for me. Please don’t worry.
God Bless you.
Your loving son, Edwin
Dear Mother: Shanghai POW Camp [undated]
There is no use trying to write a letter-this is just another note, which I hope you will receive, to let you know I am still alive. To sum it all up: I work a little, eat a little, dislike more, hope some and send my greetings to my friends.
With love, your son , Edwin
Dear Mother: Shanghai POW Camp, Jan. 3 [1943?]
With this third letter as with the first two-What can I say except that I am still in good health? Hearing from you has taken a load from my heart.
Your letter of May 20 and one from Sophia of the same date were delivered to me in October. Your letter of May 8th reached me just before Christmas. I will leave to guess how much I appreciated the letters and pictures. Only the sight of you has ever given me more pleasure than your pictures.
The Red Cross and the American – British people of Shanghai made us quite a Christmas this year. Have Ben [Bernard] oil my gear. As for sending packages – you may have been told – it is a long rough trip out here.
I can write only letter so please greet my friends for me. This is really just a note to let you know that I am very much alive. Hello Frieda! Hi Bud!
Your loving son, Edwin
Dear Mother: Shanghai POW Camp. Jan. 2 1943
I have your letter of August 14. Am glad to hear you see them at times. Still doing well, just a bit tired. Time goes fast but I guess there is lots of it. How is Frieda doing? Never hear of her. Greet my friends.
God Bless You.
Your son, Edwin
Dear Mother: Shanghai POW Camp. June 23, 1943
The sole reason for writing this card is to let you know I am still up and feeling well. I hope you are able to get one or two of the letters I have written. There is little use to write more. Do no worry. Send my greeting to the rest of the family.
Love, Edwin
Shanghai POW Camp. September 5, 1943
By special permission of the authorities we are allowed to write an extra letter at this time. There is little to write of, but at least I can let you know that I’m still much alive. I only wish that I were on hand to see you. Don’t let my gear rust. I intend to use it again after I get home. Please write to my friends.
God Bless You.
Your son, Edwin
Dear Mother: Shanghai POW Camp. June 26, 1944
Your letter of December 6, 1943 reached me already. Picture and letter though short were sure welcome.
Still doing find, but ask [brothers] Frank and Joe what they are loafing for. I want to get back to a few waffles and a bit of pistol practice. Say hello to my friends – God Bless you.
Your son, Edwin
Dear Mother: Shanghai POW Camp. July 11, 1944
Have received several 25 word letters in the past month. Dates range from December 1943 to February 1944. From yourself, Ben, Mary, Sophia, Sister Irmina, Mrs. Strong and Lois Strong. Thank them for me as I can write to but one person. Thank you for the pictures. Hello to the Dufts. Nothing to write of – still in good health. God keep you.
Your son, Edwin
Dear Mother: Shanghai POW Camp. November 26, 1944
Just another “hello” when in reality there is so much to write and so many people to think of. My special regards to the Dufts and the Strongs. Still in good health, with the weather fit for June, and wondering if my target gear is rusty. God keep you.
Your son, Edwin
Dear Brother [Frank]: Shanghai POW Camp. January 2, 1945
Hope you get this, my first chance to thank you for your letters. Feel I should write mother whenever I can. Still OK, but have been here so long that I feel more like a Chink than a Yank. But what’s a hundred years? If you find time send me a box of Copenhagen via Nimitze. Good Luck, Happy New Year for 1945.
Your brother, Edwin
Marine POWs in China. Ed Hassig in center. From a Japanese propaganda photo.
[The War ends September 2, 1945 with the Japanese surrender on the deck of the battleship USS Missouri.]
Dear Mother: Hakodate, Japan. September 11, 1945
This is the first letter I can write since Shanghai and have any hope of you seeing it. Since May 9th we have been dashing around too fast for any one as stupid as a Jap to know where we were at . – Even less could one expect them to care for mail.
I shall tell you of the past months when I see you. One thing, I am no longer hungry. In the past three weeks I have gained 15 pounds or more, in part due to an increase in Jap rations and more due to food dropped to us by B-29’s. What a feeling to see those planes in the air. Today 12 to 14 navy torpedo planes put on a show over our camp and dropped us food. Such demonstrations always leave the lousy native niggers a bit agog.
To date I have no exact information on when we leave here – in a day or five – I hear we leave here by air. Wherever it is I shall keep you posted –
Love,
Your son, Edwin
Hello to my friends!
Dear Mother: U.S. Naval Hospital. Oakland, California,October 3, 1945
Time hangs a bit heavy on my hands this evening so I thought a message to you would be in good order.
When I arrived here October 2 I sent you a wire. Did it beat the letter I wrote in Guam?
At the time I wrote that letter I had no idea I would ride a plane out of the place. In fact, a large draft of men left by ship just two days before I received my orders.
I left Guam Sunday, September 30 at 0830 in a C-54. We landed for one hour at XXX in the Marshall Islands and then proceeded to Honolulu where we landed at 0930 in the morning. It was still Sunday, September 30. The International Date Line takes care of the missing day. In Honolulu we were placed in a hospital for the night. What a nice place! And what pretty gals all over the place!
October 1 at 12:30 we boarded another C-54, headed for Oakland, and arrived at 0315 in the morning. From the airport we ran out to this hospital. Another nice place.
All I am doing here is waiting for orders to take me to the Great Lakes Hospital about 40 miles from Chicago. In the meantime I just draw some pay, clothes, and go on liberty.
This is a very very busy place. Men are being sent all over the states from here. Always to the hospital nearest their home. I can’t get leave from here. I am being sent to the Great Lakes Hospital and from there I shall go home. Today I was told I would leave Oakland Monday, October 7 at 0800. That will put me in Great Lakes some time Monday night. This is by no means final. Orders are subject to change. If there is no change, I intend to send a sea bag with some clothes to you by express. Just throw it in the corner. I’ll write to you again from Chicago.
I tried to locate Frank today. I had a faint hope that I might be able to locate him through Fort Baker, but no luck. Feeling fine. Weigh 146 pounds.
Hello to all hands, and my special love to you.
Edwin
Epilogue
After considerable loss of life to the Japanese soldiers taking Wake Island, they were never able to make any effective use of it. By the time the war had turned against the Japanese, it became a major liability to them, to keep it supplied. In October of 1943, the Japanese murdered 98 American civilian workers left behind on Wake Island. The US military saw no value in retaking Wake Island, but used it as occasional target practice for bombers. The Japanese surrendered Wake Island at the end of the war.
Ed Hassig retired from the Marine Corps in 1954 as a Warrant Officer. In spite of four years hardship and brutality as a Japanese POW, and smoking most his life, he lived to be ninety-six years old.
Edwin F. Hassig, United States Marine Corps, Semper Fidelis
There are several books written about the Marines defense of Wake Island. The one I would recommend is "Given Up For Dead". My uncle was a man of few words, but highly regarded by other Marines. After his death, one Marine remarked that Ed didn't talk much at the Wake Island Defenders reunions, but there was always a group of men gathered around him. One Marine Ed held in high esteem was Captain Platt, who in the Korean War was the highest ranking Marine (then a Colonel) killed in the war.
Edwin F. Hassig POW Account (Presumably written at the request of the War Dept., right after the war)
I have no diary, pictures or documents that were gathered by me during the time I was a prisoner of war. Such material, in fact almost any English written material, was considered dangerous by the Japanese, and in their numerous shakedowns it was always confiscated. I did have a little data, but it was lost in the happy scramble for a plane out of the country. I am of the opinion that Platoon Sergeant Joe M St___, USMC, may have a diary. The only pictures taken in any camp in which I lived were taken by Platoon Sergeant Bernard O. Ketner USMC. When captured I was a member of Battery G, 1st Defense Battalion on duty at Wake Island. I was captured on December 23, 1941, along with about 430 military personnel and about 1200 civilians. January 12,1942, I among about 420 military personnel and 900 civilians were placed aboard the Nita Maru, and after touching at Yokohama, arrived in Shanghai January 24, 1942. From January 24, 1942 until December 5-8, 1942 I lived in the Woosung War Prisoners Camp, about 8 or 10 miles west of Shanghai.
The personnel of this camp were composed of about 420 military personnel and about 900 civilians from Wake Island, some 200 US Marines from Peiping, China and a few, perhaps 20 American Merchant Marine officers and men. From January 24, 1942 to December 5, 1942, to the best of my memory, four men died. One by starvation – he refused to, or could not eat the Japanese food. Two were electrocuted by coming into contact with an electric fence around the camp. One by rifle fire – this man was shot by a Japanese sentry when the latter made a mock bayonet lunge towards the man.
The mess in this camp was poor. The galley and equipment were of the typical Jap style. Dirty iron pots, dirty buildings and no sanitary facilities. And the Japs were not interested in any direct measures for improving the situation. The food was prepared by the prisoners, but it was of the very poorest quality and insufficient quantity. Our food consisted of rice and stew, three times daily, with an occasional six ounce loaf of bread in lieu of the rice.
Most of the prisoners could have eaten twice the amount of rice served. The stew consisted, as a rule, of a watery mixture containing little or no meat, some cabbage, carrots, tops and all, onions, tops and all and perhaps a radish. This stew must be seen to be appreciated.
The medical facilities in this camp for the first six months amounted to a building where they doled out charcoal and aspirin for all complaints. The situation was somewhat relieved by a small amount of medical supplies donated to the camp by the Red Cross of Shanghai during June or July of 1942.
The housing consisted of Jap Army barracks. One story structures about 25 feet wide and 220 long. Badly lighted, cold in the winter and hot in the summer. Articles like brooms, mops, rags and soap to clean up with were unheard of. Nine men slept shoulder to shoulder on a platform 7 feet wide by 12 feet long. These barracks were the free stomping grounds of all Japs who wish to cause trouble, or any who desired to relieve their personal misery or grudges by inflicting pain, misery and humiliation on others. The latrines were of a primitive type much used in China. The greatest complaint against them was the lack of material to maintain cleanliness and eliminate flies. Recreation facilities and library were not too bad. The Red Cross of Shanghai furnished the gear and books. No Red Cross parcels were received during the period of January 24, 1942 to December 5, 1942. We were allowed to write once a month. Messages of 25 words in block letters. To the best of my knowledge, as long as a letter contained nothing derogatory to the camp or nothing pertaining to the ill health of the sender, the letters at least left the camp. All incoming mail was censored at the camp. A very slow business which was often postponed at the fancy of the interpreter for as long as three months. Any difficult to read mail fell into the waste basket. The work at the Woosung camp consisted of garden work. Six to eight hours daily, except Sundays. The work was not unpleasant nor difficult. In August or September of 1942 about 350 war prisoners from this camp left for Japan to work in factories and plants. There were men who professed to have some technical knowledge. The camp officials and guards were better known to me by their nicknames, however, a few I do remember:
Colonel Y______ - died August or September 1942
Captain Endo - a grand thief and shakedown artist.
Dr. Shindo - If there are any gentleman officers in the Jap army this is one.
Ishi Wara – Interpreter. I believe this man has been given life imprisonment at hard labor which is what he deserves.
Colonel Otara
During the period December 5 to 8, 1942. I and the other prisoners of the Woosung War Prisoners Camp were transferred to the Kaing Wan War Prisoners Camp about three or four miles west of Shanghai – It was suppose to be better than the one we left; in fact a model camp. By December 8, 1942 some 1200 prisoners were moved to this new camp. The Kaing Wan Camp was little better than the Woosung camp.
We had the same old Jap army barracks, the same stinking latrines and the same dirty galley. We did have a better hospital and dispensary – equipment and medical supplies arrived from the US in December of 1942.
In the Kaing Wan prison camp the food was a bit better as regards quality. The camp officials allowed the Red Cross of Shanghai to deliver a small amount of food to the camp twice a month. This made the food in general more palatable but we were always hungry. The Jap mess sergeant reduced the quantity of the camp ration in proportion to the amount delivered by the Red Cross.
During my stay in this camp from December 5, 1942 to May 9, 1945 I received, I believe 17 Red Cross parcels, all in good shape. Seven of them I received during the period of December 1942 – February 1943. Six during the period February 1944 – November 1944. Four during the period January 1945 – May 1945.
The work in this camp from December 1942 until May 1944 was very bad. December 1942 and January 1943 we went out in large groups to repair roads – It was far too cold for the clothing we had and we were always hungry. In February 1943 the entire camp was set to building a rifle range. The back stop, firing lines and wind breaks were to be built of dirt. It was our task to dig the dirt from nearby fields, loaded on carts and then pushed the carts on rails to the place under construction.
We always left camp between 6:00 and 8:00 in the morning depending on the time of year, and never returned until 16:00 – 18:00 in the evening. We had to walk about 2 miles to and from work. Noon lunch was taken along.
A days work was always was calculated in so many loads from the fields of digging to the point under construction. As the work progressed the digging became more distant from the construction and the pushing more difficult due to the increased elevation of the project – and as the work progressed – more loads up the hill were added to our daily quota. With everlasting hunger, fatigue, and abuse this project became a nightmare to the men in the camp.
In May 1944 this task was completed and the men set to other tasks. Some were put to work in a garage near Shanghai and the remainder, myself included, worked at an open-air fuel dump. We dug holes in which to place gas and oil drums.
From December 1942 to May 1945, eight men died in camp. Five from TB, and three from natural causes. Col. Otara was in command of this command of this camp.
On May 9, 1945 the men in Kaing Wan prison camp were transferred by train to Fengtai prison camp. We arrived at Fengtai on May 14, 1945. The camp was located 15 to 20 miles west of Peiping (Beijing) in what appeared to be a large supply base for the Japanese army. Our barracks consisted of one of the large brick warehouses. Our bunks were placed on a floor of brick and packed red clay. The lighting facilities were of the poorest; there was no ventilation except one large door and this was closed at night in spite of our protest. No brooms or other cleaning equipment was furnished – we made a few of our own, but despite all our efforts the dust and flies were terrible.
The galley was a low straw mat covered building with earth decks. No screens were available and flies swarmed over the filthy place. It was impossible to keep them down in a place that was impossible to keep clean. Our food was transported from the galley to the barracks in three to five gallon wood or metal buckets. These buckets were always washed in an inadequate supply of warm water, at times no warm water available, and then placed on open-air racks. Screens were not even available to keep flies and dust off these buckets between meal hours.
We were fed three times daily. A meal consisted of a tea-cup of rice, maize or millet and about one and a half tea cups of vegetable stew. The same rotten, stinking vegetables and meat the Japs always furnished us. A detachment of 60 Jap soldiers received more meat and vegetables than 900 prisoners. As a rule, the daily supply was picked over by the Jap cooks and what they rejected or could not use was given to us. I believe the Chinese farmers in the vicinity were not interested in selling the Japanese any food they could dispose of in their markets. One day I saw they Jap mess sgt. pay a Chinese farmer for some vegetables with a box of soap. It appeared there was no money, so after much argument the Chinese was compelled to accept the soap. The first week or ten days in the camp we did receive enough food for some strange reason, but after that period we were hungry again.
The hospital and dispensary were located in one end of the warehouse. There were wood bunks and mosquito nets for the patients, and we did have a small supply of medicine which was moved from Shanghai.
About June 1, 1945 the number of diarrhea cases had increased so greatly as to endanger the health of the entire camp and exhaust our small supply of drugs. The flies which lived and bred in the open latrines and then swarmed over our bunks and the galley were probably responsible for this condition. When the Japanese were finally convinced of the gravity of the situation they allowed us a few extra sticks of wood with which to heat water for washing wood buckets and mess gear – The diarrhea patients they isolated in another part of the barracks - in the part where the makeshift carpenter shop and store-room was located. The traffic in there was ideal to keep a cloud of dust and dirt flying at all times-the condition of this isolation ward and the patients was appalling. Again there were no facilities, nothing to clean with. The patients were forced to place their straw pads on the brick deck, some of them beneath a mosquito net.
But all of them lay on their bunks covered with dirt, sweat and traces of excrement, to miserable in their illness even to brush off the flies that swarmed over them.
The latrine in Fengtai consisted of three straddle trenches about 25 feet long, surrounded by a wall of straw mats about six feet high. It was parallel to and about 30 feet from the barracks. With nothing to fight flies, they prospered in the filthy place and swarmed over our camp. Despite the proximity of the latrine of the electric fence around our camp, and the heavy Jap guard by night, we were not allowed to use the latrine at night. Instead we were forced to place five gallon cans in the barracks for any night runs.
As to recreation – we had a small amount of soft-ball equipment and we did play a few games, but the Japs were always around to heckle and annoy. We received no Red Cross parcels in Fengtai. Mr. Engle, Red Cross representative from Shanghai did manage to send us a bit of bulk food. As far as I can remember, we sent no letters nor did we receive any while at Fengtai. A few stray letters addressed to Shanghai came to the Fengtai but no others. The work at Fengtai was not too difficult, nor were the hours too long. Seven hours per day, six days a week would cover it. The work consisted of digging ditches or moving material around the warehouses. On a whole it was rather simple because the Jap sentries were in a complete state of confusion and fear – a few prisoners had escaped from the trains during our trip from Shanghai to Fengtai: and all the sentries desired in Fengtai was to keep us close together so we could not escape. Fengtai camp existed from May 14, 1945 until June 19, 1945. There were no deaths among the prisoners while in this camp.
June 19, 1945 the prisoners from Fengtai were placed in box cars and sent to Fusan, Korea. From there to various camps in Japan. I was sent to Hokadate No. 3. July 7, 1945 I arrived at Hokadate No. 3. With me were some 309 other prisoners, 385 military personnel, 20 American Merchant Marine officers and men and five British Merchant Marine. Of these none died while we were in that camp.
The barracks consisted of one long wooden building that probably was a sleeping quarters of some miners before we occupied it. Fleas and bed bugs over-ran it, and the odor from the open pit latrines and both ends pervaded the building. Our bunks, or straw ticks were placed on the decks – we were given no blankets, and the one we brought from Fengtai (a Red Cross blanket) was inadequate to keep us warm even in July. The barracks and small compound was always heavily guarded, and the prisoners molested and annoyed to the maximum. Day and night these pigs roamed through the barracks with their dirty shoes, soiling the boards on which we had to eat and sleep, and stumbling over our bedding. They found and invented more reasons to humiliate and slap the prisoners than I can even begin to record.
The galley was fairly clean as Jap standards go, but the food was worse than in Fengtai. Rice and stew three times per day and just enough to keep you good a hungry. Rice was rationed by the tea-cup, so was the stew but it may as well have been kept in the galley. The stew was always made of sea-weed, a form of radish, or some weed gleaned from the mountain side.
The hospital, a one bed affair, and dispensary were in a small room with a corporal of the Japanese army medical corps in command. All medicine and equipment had been furnished by the Red Cross, and we had a naval doctor with us, but still this corporal was the supreme lord of the dispensary. The doctor diagnosed no case nor prescribed any medicine without his approval. From members of our medical personnel you may obtain proof of what we all knew in this camp: that this corporal sparingly doled out medicine to the prisoners that there might be more for him to steal. I have no proof of this statement.
There was no recreation at Hokadate No. 3 except cards, chess, etc., but the days on which and the hours during which these games could be played were so restricted that they contributed hardly anything to the welfare of the men.
No Red Cross parcels of any description were received in Hokadate No. 3. To my knowledge no mail was received in the camp, and we were allowed to write one letter. This was written in block letters and, of course, could contain no military information nor any derogatory statements as to the camp or its personnel.
For some strange reason we did no work at Hokadate No. 3 for the first 30 days we were there except tinker around in the garden or about the barracks. On August 8 or 9, 1945 we were all set to work even the old men and those declared unfit for work by the doctor were given some task. 60 to 70% of the men were sent into the coal mines. Half of them worked on the day shift from 0800 until 1700 with every 10th day a day of rest. The other half had the night shift. Working hours 1700 until 0300. The mine was very old, mud and water were everywhere, and the timbers old and rotten. Fortunately the war ended before we were in the mine for any length of time. On August 15, 1945 was our last day of work. The picture changed from that day on – we left Hokadate No. 3 at about 2100 on August 15, 1945.
[Largely on account of the temperate climate in China and Japan, the Wake Island prisoners suffered far fewer deaths than the US POWs in Southeast Asia.]
Transcribed March 2008 by Dewey and Marietta Hassig
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