[excerpts] ...

As the war progressed, commodities at the canteen and the food rations allowed in by the Japanese diminished drastically. Through the good offices of our indefatigable Mr. Egger of the Swiss Consulate, occasional parcels of food or medicines from friends in other parts of China were passed by the Japanese authorities and given to those to whom they had been addressed, to the envy of all.

In July 1944 a consignment of two hundred parcels from the American Red Cross was delivered for the two hundred Americans in the camp. We all crowded round with our mouths watering to see these privileged owners unpack undreamt-of delicacies in the form of tins of butter, powdered milk, coffee, salmon, spam, and packages of raisins, cheese, chocolate and sugar. Out of their largesse, we all benefitted by some tokens. That night in our room, our little gang of nine boys brought out the hoarded treasures and, by the light of the candles we had managed to keep secret, took a few leisurely savoured nibbles before squirrelling away the rest for the bleaker days we knew were coming.

About seven months later, long after the food from the parcels had disappeared and when winter was at its coldest and dreariest, a commotion erupted near the main gate. Fourteen donkeys were seen struggling to ascend the slope up the main road pulling their rickety carts, loaded high with food parcels. On each was clearly visible, “American Red Cross.” The Americans were ecstatic while everyone else was glum and “choice” words about the Red Cross of every other country represented in camp were flying freely. When all the parcels had been unloaded and counted, there were found to be 1,550 —more than enough for every one of the 1,450 of us in camp. The commandant made a very fair decision, most people thought, by allocating one each to everyone and an extra half-parcel to the two hundred Americans.

The lineup for the parcels began bright and early the next morning, but young and old after long hours of waiting were greeted by the baleful news that there would be no distribution at all. Soon it was learned that seven of the Americans, very disturbed that American parcels would go to non-Americans, thus depriving them from getting seven and a half parcels each, had protested the commandant’s directive.

Caught unprepared for a problem of this nature among the internees whose culture and customs had him baffled, the commandant, feeling obligated to present a minority’s cause, relayed the facts of the problem to Tokyo for a judgment. The image of all the Americans was badly blemished as, predictably, tensions mounted daily in the camp.

After some days a pronouncement came from the Japanese authorities that there would be one parcel per person. The extra hundred parcels would be sent back for distribution to American prisoners in other camps. It was the nearest we came to an international crisis, but in due course feelings died down, and everyone was grateful for what had been received.

Our school was able to make very favourable exchanges of all the packets of cigarettes for nourishing food that kept us going through the winter. Not a mouthful of food was ever wasted. Without doubt the hardest weekly mouthful for me, until supplies ran out, was the spoonful of cod-liver oil that looked and smelled like slimy green marmalade.

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[further reading]
http://www.weihsien-paintings.org/books/aBoysWar/ABoysWar(LaTotale)-pages.pdf

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