Chapter 1

This manuscript is a personal account of the experiences suffered by the author as a Japanese prisoner of War during the Second World War, 1942-1945.

Prior to the war, the author was a Ships Cook U.S. Navy stationed on the Yangtze River Patrol based in Shanghai, China.

In November 1941 all U.S. Navy ships and personnel were ordered out of Shanghai.  Nobody except the Captain knew where our destination was.

Most of the crew thought we would go to Australia.  This was wishful thinking on their part.  Later we ended up in Manila, Philippine Islands.

From December 8th, 1941 to May 6th, 1942 the Imperial Japanese Army was stalled in the Philippines.  The heroic defenders of Bataan and Corregidor held up their advances.

For 187 days and nights the Japanese Army and Air Force bombed and shelled Bataan and Corregidor.  After being subjected to starvation, malaria,  dysentery, with little or no medical supplies, and overwhelmed by the superior numbers of battle hardened Japanese Army soldiers, the Bataan forces had to surrender.

Corregidor would hold out for one more month.

“All ammunition lockers are to be in ready status and guns ready to load.  We will not fire unless fired on first.  Do your duty to your flag and defend the U.S. Navy to the end.”

Quarters were dismissed and the crew jumped to their tasks of getting the ship underway for the trip to Shanghai, China. Quickly, fires were started in all the boilers, messengers were dispatched to the American Consul for mail and other matters.  All Naval personnel in the vicinity of Hankow, China, were to embark with their effects immediately.

American Consul baggage, mail, records, money and Naval personnel arrived quickly and now we had another big job to do.  All the ship’s stores were to be carried aboard from our warehouses and in a little while, steam was up and our stores aboard.  In the distant shores, a beautiful white horse was headed for the gunboat, the U.S.S. Oahu.  “What’s this?” some of the crew said.  “Twobits that some loon wants that horse to be taken aboard.”  Yes, the head of the American Consul wanted to know how soon he could get his horse aboard ship.  The captain said to the assistant American Consul, “Not on you life!  My orders are to take naval personnel, American families, mail and personal baggage.  No animals except dogs are allowed, and the animal you have there is no dog!”  After arguing for a while, the horse was led away to the stables.  The Italian Consul staff, composed of two radio operators, requested to come aboard for passage to Shanghai.  They had no other way to reach Shanghai, and as a courtesy, we obliged them.  The Italians were closing their consul.  The two Italian radio operators were the last men to leave.  They could speak English and seemed to be very nice persons.

Everybody and all stores were aboard and now we were ready to leave.  Sea Detail was piped by the ship’s boatswain and all men not required to man getting underway stations went to quarters. Safety valves were tested noisily and a fine spray from the steam escaping through them rained upon the decks.  All lines were singled up and the anchor windlass started to haul up the anchor. The Navigator and Quartermaster went to the bridge.  The anchor watch was standing by color and the Union Jack.  Amid whistles, the Chinese were shouting a farewell from the docks.  The anchor was at heaveshort up, all mooring lines were thrown off and the trim white gunboat slowly steamed into the middle of the stream.  The anchor was dropped preparatory to turning the ship around and sailing for our first port of call.

All along the muddy Yangtze River we were to pick up American nationals, Naval personnel, mail and baggage.  At Wuhu, China, we would drop off our food supplies and all the medical supplies to American missionaries as they had decided to stick out the threat of the forthcoming “war”.  This would be the last time we would ever see them again.  War was very close between America and Japan. We were all sorry to see the American Missionaries stay but they were very confident that they would not be molested by the Japanese.  Little did they know, then, that they would be forced to treat, feed and entertain Japanese soldiers, and finally, they would all be taken to a concentration camp.  After a fond farewell from the Missionaries and doctors in Wuhu, China, we once more proceeded on our voyage.

Our next stop would be at Nanking, old capitol of China.  This city was now held by the Japanese, under a very cruel commander.  Here, we were to evacuate any American nationals, mail, baggage, etc. The American Consul there was not worried about the forthcoming “war” as he would be assured of a safe conduct to Shanghai, along with his staff by reason of Diplomatic status.  If he stayed in Nanking as long as he could, he would be able to send any information of operations by the Japanese to the American Consul in Shanghai, who would be in contact by radio with Manila, P.I. After saying farewell again, we left Nanking, China, at full speed (16 knots) and headed for Shanghai.  We arrived around November 25, 1941, and after the necessary reports to the Commander to the Yangtze River Patrol, half of the crew were allowed to go on liberty.  Some of the crew had wives of Chinese, Russian and other nationalities in port and were anxious to see them.  Meanwhile, British workmen and Chinese shipyard employees came aboard the ship to prepare us for our journey to a neutral port, which we guessed might by Manila, P.I.

Of course, the exact destination was not given to anybody beforehand, but as the ship’s sides were boarded up very high and bulkheads were shored, we all knew we were destined for a long voyage via the China Sea.  After loading the ship to its capacity with dry stores, fresh and frozen meats, we also took everything possible from the U.S.S. Wake, a 370 tons gunboat which would be left in Shanghai as a radio contact between Manila and Shanghai. Most of the men, typewriters, instruments, clothing, money, records and ammunitions were transferred to the U.S.S. Oahu.  The crew who would be aboard the U.S.S. Wake consisted of one U.S. Naval Reserve Lieutenant, several Chief Petty Officers and 40 Chinese laundry men, employed by the U.S.S. Oahu and the U.S.S. Wake, barbers, mess men, etc.  It was believed that this gunboat would be taken over by the Japanese navy as soon as “war” started.

The captain of the U.S.S. Wake had orders to surrender to the Japanese navy in order to avoid bloodshed.  As it was later proven, the U.S.S. Wake was ordered to surrender by the Japanese Supreme Commander in Shanghai, China December 8, 1941.  The gunboat was boarded by the Japanese navy, and all crew members were taken to a concentration camp.  Later, the U.S.S. Wake was used as an exhibit and voyaged up and down the Yangtze River.  The sum of 25 sen was charged to all Japanese visitors who wanted to see the first U.S. Navy ship captured by the Japanese navy.  Where once flew our proud flag, in its place was now the ugly Rising Sub.

The H.M.S. Petrol (about 200 tons) was hailed by a Japanese cruiser to surrender.  Their answer was a flash of gunfire resulting in a direct hit on the cruiser in the vicinity of the ship’s bridge, killing some Japanese crew members.  The big Japanese cruiser (over 10,000 tons) opened fire with her 8inch rifles.  The H.M.S Petrol was blown out of the water and sunk with but a few survivors.  Thus, this small gunboat met a glorious end.  This sinking of the H.M.S. Petrol happened after we left Shanghai and the above events were related to me by eyewitnesses.

Before we left Shanghai, our Chinese Galley Boy developed a case of appendicitis.  Also, a seaman failed to return from duty.  He was entered in the ship’s log as AWOL and after we left Shanghai, China, was listed as missing the ship.  The U.S.S. Luzon reported that their 1st class ship’s cook, Phillips, had failed to return from liberty.  Also the Admiral’s Mess Boy, who had served the U.S. Navy for 12 years, was AWOL.  He was married and didn’t relish the thought of leaving Shanghai.

U.S.S. Luzon
USNI photo
Dudley Knox Library
Naval Postgraduate School, Monterey Ca.,
Yangtze River Patrol Memorial Exhibit

November 29, 1941 at 1700 (5:00 PM) the gunboats, U.S.S. Oahu and U.S.S. Luzon, left Yangtze Poo buoys for then unknown destinations. Weather reports had been received telling us that bad weather was to be expected on the trip.  Our first two days out were fine, but soon we were to hit the Formosian Straits, which were known to be very rough.  While in these stretches of water, we ran across a Japanese Task Force who quickly surrounded us and wanted to know by radio who we were, our destination, and what port we hailed from.  A Japanese destroyer was on our port quarter.  It was absurd, for they had all their guns trained on us.  Instantly, ours were manned and it was thought a battle would start right there and then.  But, the Japanese destroyer went past us and everybody breathed easier. Approximately 20 ships were in the Japanese task force.  One ship that impressed me was a vessel of some 12,000 tons which had extremely large davits, and in the davits, were suspended what I thought could have been one man suicide submarines.  I had an 8mm movie camera and took pictures of this Japanese Task Force.

The Japanese ships all looked like they were ready for action and appeared to be heavily loaded.  We continued our voyage with the prospects of heavy weather ahead.  Word was passed to go over all gear and to secure same.  With our thin platted hull, the crew and officers were wondering if we could get through the Formosa Straits.  While in the straits, the U.S.S. Oahu rolled 47 degrees and lost most of her topside gear.  After several hours of wild pitching and rolling, the forward hold, anchor windlass and forward crew compartments were flooded.  Word was passed to abandon the forward crew’s quarters and office.  The compartments had watertight doors, and after the occupants of the holds had left, they were securely dogged down.

We rounded Formosa and saw the ex-president Hoover boat, which was held fast in the laws of jagged rocks and was slowly being lashed to pieces by the pounding waves and rocks.  The enemy was trying to salvage her, but could only work certain times of the year due to extremely severe weather conditions.  As it was, they could only get certain kinds of salvage craft near the ship.  We received word by ship’s radio that the mine sweepers, Pigeon and Quail, would meet us 200 miles from Manila.  The U.S.S. Luzon were accompanying, was taking a severe pounding, but it was believed it could make port on it’s own power.

Most of our Chinese native enlisted men (U.S. Navy) were very seasick and were sticking close to their bunks, with the exception of Ah Ting, the officer’s cook, who was holding up very well. Trying to fry meat in deep fat with 47 degrees rolling was another thing.  Every few minutes the grease would tip over the side and finally, I had to grab the pan and put it in the sink.  I had some meat in the ovens roasting and after some heavy rolls [of the ship], the doors would fly open with a crash.  Trying to hang onto the overhead and saving the pans was a job, not counting the soup slopping the sides of the copper.  Somehow I managed to get the crew’s super out that evening.  After consulting with the Acting Commissary Steward and Commissary Officer, we decided to have sandwiches and coffee hereafter.

We rode the rough part of the trip out, pulled into Manila’s outer harbor, requested a pilot to escort us in through the heavily mined seaway and dropped anchor opposite Ferry Landing Cavite.  The trip took five days and four nights and we had arrived at Manila on December 4, 1941, just three days, seven hours before America and Japan would be at “War”.  The morning of December 8, 1941, Manila newsboys were screaming: “Pearl Harbor bombed!  Of course, those of us ashore had no inkling of what had happened to our ships and were told that we were not at “War”, and we were now in a wartime status.  All of our guns were manned and were standing by for possible air raids.  After my return, Monday morning, December 8, from liberty in Manila, I was never to go ashore again until the end of the war in the Philippines.

The Japanese navy, with army transports, landed in Lingayen Gulf, December 19, 1941 with heavy losses, but they had succeeded in their objective.  Soon, we would experience countless airraids. One day, Japanese dive bombers came in over Manila Harbor and tried to strafe and sink old World War I destroyers, consisting of the U.S.S. Peary, U.S.S. Paul Jones and the U.S.S. Pope.  After being strafed and bombed for several hours, the gallant ships escaped to sea and waited until nightfall to come back to Manila Harbor.  They were pretty badly damaged and would have to be repaired at Cavite Navy Yard.  Every ship around Cavite and Manila fired heavy antiaircraft fire at the Japanese dive bombers to no avail as they escaped into the clouds.  That night, the damaged destroyers limped back into port.  They would be quickly repaired and would try to make it to Australia.  To stay in Manila waters would be foolhardy for the Japanese were determined to destroy all U.S. warships.  These old fighting cans later played a prominent part in the battle of Makassar Straits.