February 1942 to June 1944

CHAPTER III

"THIS FUTILE EXISTENCE"

During the summer there had been talk of a repatriation ship for the Americans, and the possibility of the Catholic Fathers and Sisters being sent back to Peking, where they would be confined to their mission compounds. Few of the Catholics wanted to leave, as they were having a better time in camp than they would if restricted to their own company and confined to their own quarters in Peking. Some sects protested against the pro-posed move, but the ball had been rolling for several months and it was impossible to stop it now, and so, during August, after six months of camp life, they left for Peking. Bands played them a farewell, tears were shed, and everyone turned out to see them leave. A month later about two hundred Americans left for Shanghai to join the repatriation ship Gripsholm. They included some of the most prominent and useful of the American community: amongst them was Billy Christian. A large number of them were from the Peking kitchen and we worked practically all night to prepare food for them to take on the two-day rail journey to Shanghai, and were up again at four in the morning to cook their fare-well breakfast

That was a most depressing day. It was with mixed feelings that we bade them goodbye and lined the walls to cheer and to wave farewell to these most fortunate people. 0f late we had become numbed with despondency by our futile existence, and this sudden exodus of our friends did a lotto pull people together and make them realise that perhaps after all we were not living in a completely forgotten and lost world of our own. The departure of the Fathers and the Americans marked the end of the era of easy living in the "Courtyard of the Happy Way".

Labour hours for the remaining internees had to be increased. With the coming of winter, food supplies dwindled. There were many meatless days and vegetables were scarce. The poor quality of the yeast and flour resulted in heavy, indigestible bread. Our supply of breakfast food, kaoliang or green beans, soon ran out and we had to resort to bread porridge. This was made by soaking overnight all the stale left-overs from the bread-room. The next morning the mixture was squeezed as dry as possible and run through the mincing machine, thickened with several pounds of flour, flavoured with cinnamon and sweetened with saccharine. Needless to say it was one of the less popular dishes, a poor second to the mess of green beans or kaoliang, which was made in exactly the same way.

Lunch consisted of the inevitable stew, sometimes with meat to flavour it, sometimes without. By the evening there was little left to cook but soup, and occasionally, if we could get bread dough, there might be hot cakes.

Cooking was greatly handicapped by the poor quality of the coal. It was practically dust and burned only with a liberal application of wood. Finally, when the wood ran out, we had to mix the coal-dust with earth and water, and dry it into bricks in the sun. This had long been the practice for home cooking, and no matter what the time of day, one could not walk down an alley without seeing someone making coal-balls. The most satisfactory coal-balls were made by taking a handful of the mixture and pressing it into a firm, round ball. The more fastidious used a slightly wetter mixture which they scooped up with the aid of a small tin nailed to the end of a stick. Although there were a few diehards who insisted to the end on the personal touch, the majority were eventually converted to the tin-and-stick method.

The general shortage was soon reflected in the canteen, and with the Fathers gone, black-market supplies dwindled. Before long, however, Tommy Wade, of the British-American Tobacco Company, and his associates had more than made up for the absence of the Fathers and his organisation was better. He had excellent contacts outside the wall and many even people never knew where the supplies had come from, as he used distributing agents in the camp. Of course, his was not the only group; others operated occasionally but with less success.

The Japanese were fairly sure that black-market activities were being carried out on a large scale, but they were never able to get to the bottom of them. Now and again they would catch someone and there would be talk of general action to be taken against the whole community. The culprit would have his canteen privileges withdrawn, or be sent to gaol for a week. One day, when searching some Chinese workmen prior to passing them into the camp, they found a letter concealed on one of the coolies ; he was taken into the guard-house, beaten until unconscious, and was not seen again. Fortunately the note did not bear the name of any individual, and it was impossible for the Japs to attach the blame to any particular internee, but it gave them the opportunity for which they had been waiting.

Notices were put up and the Committee informed that if anyone was caught talking to a Chinese, he would be removed to the Chinese gaol at Weihsien for a period of from two to three months' imprisonment. No one was allowed within ten feet of the wall and we were warned that anyone caught communicating with Chinese over the wall would be shot. This had the desired effect, and for several weeks all black-market activities ceased. But as the guards slackened their vigilance, so operations were resumed, although it was necessary to have a perfect system of our own guards to keep watch and give adequate warning at whatever part of the wall was being operated. Shortly after this a barbed-wire and electrified fence was erected about a yard or so from the wall on the outside and searchlights were mounted on the watch-towers at each corner of the wall. Although black-market activities were thus made more difficult, they continued more or less as usual, but on one occasion, after warning had been given that the guards were approaching, an unfortunate Chinese, in his hurry to get away, slipped, and making contact with the wire, was electrocuted. His body was allowed to hang on the wire for the greater part of the next day as a warning to his confederates.

The winter of '43 came early. The Japanese had decided that stoves would be issued on 8th December and nothing the Committee could do would induce them to put this date forward. Internees started to build stoves in their rooms of bricks, mud or empty biscuit tins. Few managed to get stove-pipes, and empty tins were at a premium; joined together, they made a very satisfactory substitute. The coal was so bad that one got very little heat unless there was an exception-ally good draught. If one was fortunate enough to have a job that took one anywhere near the coal pile or the kitchen, sometimes an occasional bucket of coal or coke could be scrounged. Bankers and shipping magnates spent hours going over the ash-dumps from the kitchen and hot-water boilers, tirelessly scraping, raking and sifting the ashes in the hope of finding pieces of coke or partially-burnt coal. It was no longer safe to leave one's supply of coal-balls outside, much less any firewood one was fortunate enough to possess. Stoves were the chief topic of conversation, no one getting much heat, but each having a pet theory of his own.

Although the winter had started early, it proved to be a very mild one and by the beginning of March one could sit in the sun and thaw. Arthur Porter, Ramage and I had been fortunate in being able to move to more salubrious quarters, a large room with a view to the hills far in the south — on the second storey of a building occupied by the dozen or so Catholic Fathers who had remained. With the coming of spring, the countryside awoke from the long inactivity of winter. Fields of winter wheat daubed the brown earth with splashes of brilliant green. The greenish-yellow haze of the distant willows showed that their buds were swelling in the life-giving warmth of the sun. Farmers, in groups of twos and threes, ploughed the soil and sowed their summer crops, followed by flocks of crows, noisily engaged in pecking up the grain from the newly-turned earth. With the warm freshness of spring, one could not but be aware of the urge for freedom and the desire to begin life anew.

The few Fathers who remained were an extremely jovial crowd, particularly Father de Jaegher, with whom I became very friendly. He had lived in the interior of China for many years and spoke and read the language fluently. We spent many hours together walking around the hospital grounds discussing the possibilities of escape, but we still lacked any accurate information regarding conditions in the immediate vicinity. We had word of Communists attacking the Japanese and occasionally there were rumours of Nationalist forces. De Jaegher wrote a letter in Latin to a French priest some fifteen to twenty miles away, asking for information. The reply was most discouraging, emphasising the folly of attempting to escape into a district thick with traitor troops, Communists and independent guerrillas, where the allegiance and disposition of the forces changed from day to day. This we took with a grain of salt, suspecting that the priest was afraid either of being drawn into our plans or of reprisals.

The Japanese, having decided to dispense with the cesspool coolies by installing a drainage system, employed about fifty to sixty Chinese coolies to dig the ditches and lay the pipes. Although they placed guards over these workers, there were still opportunities of conversing with them secretly, and now for the first time we were able to collect a little reliable information on conditions and the disposition of the various factions outside.

We learned that Weihsien and a surrounding area of about twenty miles was in the hands of Chinese puppet troops, supported by a large Japanese garrison at the railway town of Fangtze, five miles south-east of the camp. Outside this ring were contesting groups of Communists, semi-puppet units and pro-Nationalist units, the strongest and nearest force being a Communist unit some twenty miles to the north-west.

Amongst the workers we found a man who at one time had been attached to these Communist forces. De Jaegher had a way with these people and it was not long before we had the man deeply involved in our plans. We had always felt that we should make for the south, where we would have the advantage of hilly country, where anti-Japanese elements were usually to be found, but we reluctantly gave up this idea in favour of seeking the Communist group to the north-west. Plans proceeded apace, and definite promises were made, but as the time drew near our man apparently got cold feet and there was nothing we could do to persuade him to carry the plans through.

In the meantime Father Hanquet had been in touch with another man who had agreed to take us south ― this fell in with our original ideas. Detailed plans were again made, sketches were drawn of the immediate countryside, and a rendezvous agreed upon outside a small village about half a mile south-west of the camp, where this man and his friend were to meet us. The final arrangements were that these two Chinese would pass along a footpath between the camp and village before dusk, thus indicating that everything was in order and that as soon as it was dark we were to join them outside the east wall of the appointed hamlet. We were packed and ready. After supper we went up to the bell-tower of one of the school buildings from which one could get a complete panorama of the surrounding country. The sun set and dusk came, but not a sign of our friends. Once again we had failed.

Discouraged and disappointed at our continual failure, it was some weeks before our spirits revived and we renewed discussions. By then the sewerage scheme had been completed and the workmen dismissed, but fortunately there was a shortage of pipe and they were unable to connect all the cesspools. They had therefore to retain the services of three coolies who continued to come in daily, and on one of these we directed our efforts. He was a willing lad, and it was not long before, with the help of generous subsidies we had him working entirely on our behalf. It was from him that We first heard of a strong pro-Chungking unit to the north-east.

One morning at our regular meeting in one of the more secluded latrines, he informed us that the contract for the privilege of cleaning the cesspools would expire in a few days. A pro-Japanese gang had sent the Commandant a tender for this work, offering higher rates than his employers could pay. After much consultation de Jaegher and I decided to raise the money between us and, through this fellow, buy the contract ourselves. The money was raised and days of haggling ensued between our man and the Japanese; the price was raised several times but in the end it was proved that for once the Japs felt this was a matter of politics rather than money, and insisted upon their own gang getting the job. This cut all connections with the outside except for the tinsmith, who was too scared to be of much use. But before our cesspool coolie left we arranged with him to pass the camp at certain hours three times a week, and on the all-clear signal messages continued to be exchanged between us by throwing them over the wall.

By late spring conditions had deteriorated to a marked degree. Supplies were repeatedly cut, comfort money was most irregular and eventually ceased altogether, owing to some altercation between the Japanese and the Swiss over the rate of exchange. The manual workers in the camp were not getting enough food to eat, few people had any money left and black-marketing was becoming increasingly difficult. People were selling their jewellery, gold watches, wedding rings, precious stones, furs and false teeth, anything on which they could raise a little extra money. These were bought up by black-marketeers and sold through the Japanese guards or to Chinese over the wall.

A wave of avariciousness swept over the camp; every man for himself; the food queue became a continuous outlet for the griping and dissatisfied, sharp eyes watched the servers, who had to be most meticulous in the apportionment of the prescribed clipper or half-dipper of stew, and the size of the potatoes had to be graded, but even so it was impossible to avoid complaints. The Japanese turned a deaf ear to the pleas of the Committee for more food.

Food parcels which we sometimes received from friends in Peking, Tientsin and Tsingtao were now very irregular, and when they did arrive a very large percentage of the contents had been pilfered en route. The regular breakfast was now the watery pap known as "bread porridge", the inevitable thin stew at noon and sometimes soup in the evenings or just bread and tea, and bread, bread and more bread, and nothing to put on it. Only in the hospital, thanks to the foresight of Doctor Grice, who, by alternately threatening and cajoling, had succeeded in building up a reserve of food for the patients, was a decent meal obtainable. More than six weeks had elapsed since Egger's last visit.

The Committee was worried: the food situation threatened to get worse; there was no indication of comfort-money payments being resumed. Italy had capitulated, the Americans were pressing the Japanese in the Pacific, and the papers began to admit the possibility of an Allied invasion of Europe. With the turn of the tide the position of the camp became a matter of some concern. What would be the Japanese reaction to increasing Allied victories? Would they take it out of the internees or would they endeavour to ingratiate themselves with the camp? What would be the final outcome? What were the conditions outside the camp? Communists? Roving hordes of irregular bandit-troops? Were there any reliable Chungking forces in the area? Would the Japanese in the camp be attacked or would they, in a mad spirit of reprisal, massacre the internees?

At this point rumours were heard amongst those close to certain members of the Committee, of a letter having been received from a Chungking unit. There was talk of a ridiculous scheme to rescue members of the camp, of a secret airfield and relays of planes that would whisk us all off to Chungking.

This, I decided, was worth further investigation, and finding de Jaegher, we went off together to see Hubbard of the American Board Mission, who, we felt, would know all about it. Hubbard was an extremely sound man with years of experience of China and the Chinese, a man of wide interests and incidentally the leading ornithologist in North China; I had made a practice of discussing with him the various plans which we had made from time to time. Being on the Committee, we felt sure he would know the details of this latest development. We were not disappointed. He showed us the original letters and the Committee's courteous but non-committal reply.

The letter in Chinese received from the Commander of this Chungking unit was certainly interesting:

H.Q. 4th Mobile Column,

Shantung -Kiangsu War Area.

Beleaguered British and Americans: Greetings to all. The dwarf islanders, the brigands and robbers! have upset the order of the world. My countrymen have experienced their brutality in war and widespread calamity with human sacrifice beyond any comparison in human history. Without taking account of virtue and measuring their strength, they dared to make enemies of your countries so that you have met with great misfortune and have been robbed of your livelihood and happiness.

We can well imagine that your life in Hades must reach the limits of inhuman cruelty. As I write this I tear out my hair by the roots. But the Allies in the Pacific, in south-east Asia and on the mainland of China have counter-attacked with great success. I beg of you to let your spirits rise.

My division is able to rescue you, snatching you from the tiger's mouth, but the territory we control is small and restricted and I cannot guarantee your safety for a long period. If you will request your consuls to send planes to pick you up and take you to the rear after I have released you, then my divisions can certainly save you. Regarding this matter I am asking Mr. Chen to find some way of getting in touch with you and to make arrangements.

I respectfully hope that you will be able to carry out these plans and send you all my good wishes.

Wang Yu-min

33rd year of the Republic of China,

Fifth month, fourth day

(4/5/’44)

Together with this was received a letter in English from Mr. Chen :

DEAR FRIENDS,

This serves to inform you that first of all I have to introduce myself to you. I was first-class interpreter in the Chinese Labour Corp, B.E.F., during the last War. . . . I have been in Ch'angyi just a couple of months and the first thing I decided with the Commander and the Assistant Commander is to arrange to save you all out from the camp and then send you back to your own country. But please note that from here to Chung-king is rather difficult to go right through as the Jap soldiers are all blocked up the ways. So we have to arrange to send you all back by air. In this connection, we have to send a few special men (and I myself) to Chungking to connect the matter and request the Chinese Central Government, American and British Consulate-Generals to arrange to send down some big aeroplanes for the transportation, so therefore before we save you all from the camp we have a lot of things to do such as to build the aerodrome for the planes to land and etc. However, after everything settled up we will let you know beforehand. Kindly believe us that we are easily to save you all out as we have over 60,000 soldiers staying in Ch'angyi area . . . wishing you all have good luck. Please keep patient for the time being. We may not act till the kaoliang crops grow up. Wait! Wait!

I remain,

Yours very truly,

S. W. Chen

P.S.—God will help us.

Subsequent letters were received, elucidating the details of this hare-brained scheme and announcing that construction of the landing field had been commenced in the area held by these troops. As soon as the crops had grown to their maximum height, the camp would be attacked, the Japanese guards annihilated, the internees transported to this airfield and flown off by relays of planes to Chungking, where they would live happily ever after!

The Committee replied that much as they appreciated the compassionate motives behind this scheme, they feared that owing to the large percentage of women and children, the sick and the aged, it would not be a practical move and regretted that it could not in these circumstances be considered.

It was not long before a reply was received which, completely ignoring the Committee's polite but firm refusal, announced that their representative was about to leave for Chungking and requested a letter of introduction to our Embassies. It further exhorted the internees to be patient, for as soon as the crops were high enough to afford cover, they would be rescued.

The Committee, who had not the slightest desire to be rescued in this way, were in rather a dilemma, as, if this unit did in their enthusiasm attack the camp, there was no knowing what would be the outcome. Something must be done to stop it. Ted McLaren, H―, de Jaegher and I discussed the matter at great length; de Jaegher and I felt that at last we were in touch with a genuine pro-Chungking unit and that this was the moment to which we had been working for the past year. If the matter was judiciously handled, we could obtain our objective and at the same time be of some service to the camp. We convinced McLaren and H― that for the benefit of the camp this connection should not be ignored, and pointed out that we should work towards turning this wild scheme to some more practical form of assistance of real benefit. From then onwards the matter was turned over to us with the understanding that we should keep them fully informed on any future developments.

We immediately sent off a letter to Mr. Chen to the effect that this whole scheme was of great importance to the camp and needed much careful planning, which could not possibly be carried out successfully through the present hazardous means of communication. We therefore suggested sending two representatives to the Commander's Head-quarters to discuss this matter. In due course we received a reply from Mr. Chen stating that he thought this could be arranged and he was leaving immediately for Headquarters to discuss details with Commander Wang Shang-chih and Vice-Commander Wang Yu-min.

In the meantime we had started to assemble what we thought it necessary to take with us, deciding that we would limit our gear to a knapsack apiece. De Jaegher's superior Father Rutherford, happened to call in just as he was re-checking the contents of his knapsack. It did not take Father Rutherford long to tumble to the idea and he forbade de Jaegher to leave. McLaren, H― and I argued with him alternately but without success. Although entirely in favour of the scheme, he felt that he could not afford to have the Catholic Church involved for fear of consequences, not so much in the camp as elsewhere, and now that de Jaegher's part in this plan had come to his knowledge, he had no alternative but to stop him. He added, however, that he would of course pray for the success of the mission. This was a great disappointment as we considered de Jaegher's experience and knowledge of the language invaluable.

Looking around for someone else to take his place, I asked Arthur Hummel, who needed little persuasion to fall in with the scheme.

Although successive disappointments had made us some-what sceptical, we could not help but feel that this time we had the right connection and it was with eager anticipation that we kept our appointment at the wall on the scheduled days. But for a week our man failed to come. Then one day he appeared only to signal "no message". Another week passed without any news and we felt that, after all, this connection which had offered so much promise was obviously going to fall through, as had all the others.

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