Christmas 1944
Dec. 12th, 2009 10:51 amHere's the Christmas story my grandma wrote, and my mom retells in church some years, about their last Christmas as captives of war in the Philippines. My mom is Millie in the story; she was 4 when they were captured by the Japanese military and 8 when they were liberated. You can read the other story and see pictures if you click my WW2 tag.
CHRISTMAS, 1944
“Isn’t it a beautiful tree, Daddy?” asked Millie, as she eyed the little bush in the corner of the room. “This is just going to be a wonderful Christmas!”
Millie’s Daddy nodded although the tree was very small and had little resemblance to a “real” Christmas tree. It was just a tumbleweed decorated as well as a seven-year-old could with small pieces of cotton and a few pieces of colored yarn she had found.
More than four years had passed since the family, Mother, Daddy, Millie and her older brother Richard, had left California for the mission field. After about a year in Japan, they had been moved to the Philippines and were there a few months when Pearl Harbor was attacked and Manila bombed a few hours later. Soldiers entered the city where Daddy was manager of the Seventh-day Adventist hospital. Mother, Richard and Millie were up in the mountains in the town of Baguio which was thought to be safe, but on December 27, 1941, they were taken prisoner. After a few months and much negotiating, they were bussed down a narrow crooked road to a compound in Manila with about 35 other missionaries in 5 houses. Those were frightening days, especially for grownups. Getting food from downtown was dangerous as they were considered the enemy by the soldiers who patrolled the streets.
After about two years on the compound, forming an orchestra, learning in “school,”planting gardens, raising goats for milk and chickens for eggs, one Friday soldiers stationed themselves outside the high walls surrounding the group of homes. Several officers came inside and met with the men to tell them that the next day trucks would come to take everyone away! Daddy, with a long face, told Mother, “they won’t even let us wait until after Sabbath. Tomorrow morning at 9 o’clock we have to be ready to leave with just one suitcase for each person!”
What should they take? Where were they going? What would happen to them? All night Daddy and Mother sorted and packed necessities. Four days later in Los Banos, an internment camp about 40 miles outside the city, Mother stood looking at the two tiny cubicles she would make “home” for her family. The floor was rough boards with great cracks between them. The walls were “swali” or bamboo matting about 6 feet high. If she could have stood on a chair she could have seen the other 46 rooms of the barracks, all without furniture, two people in each room, all very tired and hungry.
Always a practical man, Daddy soon had their rooms outfitted with primitive furniture. He also built a cook shack just outside. Although the main camp kitchen cooked huge pots of food and delivered them to about 2300 people in all the barracks, it was nice to have their own cook shack to prepare any special things they might get. Gradually, though, the rations were cut. A little soupy rice with maybe some stewed greens was soon the general diet.
Now Christmas, 1944, was coming. Each member of the family wanted to bring happiness to the others. But how? There were no stores to buy things. Mother saved a little of the rice lugao from several meals until she had about a cup. She added one tablespoon of sugar, nearly the last she had, a few coconut gratings, a little lime juice, pinch of salt. This she baked in a mended iron skillet over a charcoal fire and called it “cake.”
Millie had found the tumbleweed tree. In an empty barracks, Daddy and Richard had been working mysteriously on something. Finally the day came! The soldier guards must have noticed the glint of joy in each of their captives’ eyes that morning as roll call was taken.
Richard kept asking, “when do we eat? I’m dreadfully hungry and it smells so good.” He tightened his belt more. It was looser now than when the war had begun, for although he had grown taller, at 14 he had lost about 10 pounds. The thoughts of a special meal far outshone thoughts of any present he might receive.
Finally the family sat down to Christmas dinner. On each wooden plate was a little rice, so thin it ran into the talinum (a slippery plant) salad. There was soup, too, made from 4 tablespoons of mung beans, much water and a little garlic. When Richard saw a weevil in his rice, he just pushed it to the side ... at first the kitchen crew had picked out the worms and weevils until they saw there was more bulk if they were left in.
When every speck was gone, Mother brought out the “cake” and carefully divided it in four pieces. Not one crumb was left!
Gathering around the “tree” four faces shone with joy. Mother had spent hours making a lovely calendar for Daddy. Sitting under a bare bulb in the community bathroom, she had sewn patriotic red and blue rick rack on an old shirt tail. A friend had drawn a picture of the camp for the top. As he held the 1945 calendar, Daddy prayed that rescue would come soon!
Richard proudly handed Mother the much-needed mop handle, a stick that he and Daddy had rubbed smooth. “Now you won’t have to dig any more slivers from my hands from scrubbing this rough floor,” Mother said as she kissed both of them.
“I know what this is” cried Richard as he unwrapped his round package. “A baseball!” Daddy had traded something he didn’t need to get it from another internee.
After each person had received a present, there was still one tiny package on the tree. “What could it be?” Daddy wondered. “Why just look! A sugar cube!” Tears came to his eyes as he remembered it had been given to Millie at a party a few days before. He never dreamed his hungry little girl would save it for him! But Millie asked, “Daddy, did you notice that the corners are nibbled off just a little bit?” Daddy laughed through misty eyes and divided that little round cube into four pieces so each might share some of the joy.
Imagine! A cube of sugar, an old baseball, a mop stick, a shirttail calendar and a tumbleweed giving such joy to my family and me Christmas, 1944!
CHRISTMAS, 1944
“Isn’t it a beautiful tree, Daddy?” asked Millie, as she eyed the little bush in the corner of the room. “This is just going to be a wonderful Christmas!”
Millie’s Daddy nodded although the tree was very small and had little resemblance to a “real” Christmas tree. It was just a tumbleweed decorated as well as a seven-year-old could with small pieces of cotton and a few pieces of colored yarn she had found.
More than four years had passed since the family, Mother, Daddy, Millie and her older brother Richard, had left California for the mission field. After about a year in Japan, they had been moved to the Philippines and were there a few months when Pearl Harbor was attacked and Manila bombed a few hours later. Soldiers entered the city where Daddy was manager of the Seventh-day Adventist hospital. Mother, Richard and Millie were up in the mountains in the town of Baguio which was thought to be safe, but on December 27, 1941, they were taken prisoner. After a few months and much negotiating, they were bussed down a narrow crooked road to a compound in Manila with about 35 other missionaries in 5 houses. Those were frightening days, especially for grownups. Getting food from downtown was dangerous as they were considered the enemy by the soldiers who patrolled the streets.
After about two years on the compound, forming an orchestra, learning in “school,”planting gardens, raising goats for milk and chickens for eggs, one Friday soldiers stationed themselves outside the high walls surrounding the group of homes. Several officers came inside and met with the men to tell them that the next day trucks would come to take everyone away! Daddy, with a long face, told Mother, “they won’t even let us wait until after Sabbath. Tomorrow morning at 9 o’clock we have to be ready to leave with just one suitcase for each person!”
What should they take? Where were they going? What would happen to them? All night Daddy and Mother sorted and packed necessities. Four days later in Los Banos, an internment camp about 40 miles outside the city, Mother stood looking at the two tiny cubicles she would make “home” for her family. The floor was rough boards with great cracks between them. The walls were “swali” or bamboo matting about 6 feet high. If she could have stood on a chair she could have seen the other 46 rooms of the barracks, all without furniture, two people in each room, all very tired and hungry.
Always a practical man, Daddy soon had their rooms outfitted with primitive furniture. He also built a cook shack just outside. Although the main camp kitchen cooked huge pots of food and delivered them to about 2300 people in all the barracks, it was nice to have their own cook shack to prepare any special things they might get. Gradually, though, the rations were cut. A little soupy rice with maybe some stewed greens was soon the general diet.
Now Christmas, 1944, was coming. Each member of the family wanted to bring happiness to the others. But how? There were no stores to buy things. Mother saved a little of the rice lugao from several meals until she had about a cup. She added one tablespoon of sugar, nearly the last she had, a few coconut gratings, a little lime juice, pinch of salt. This she baked in a mended iron skillet over a charcoal fire and called it “cake.”
Millie had found the tumbleweed tree. In an empty barracks, Daddy and Richard had been working mysteriously on something. Finally the day came! The soldier guards must have noticed the glint of joy in each of their captives’ eyes that morning as roll call was taken.
Richard kept asking, “when do we eat? I’m dreadfully hungry and it smells so good.” He tightened his belt more. It was looser now than when the war had begun, for although he had grown taller, at 14 he had lost about 10 pounds. The thoughts of a special meal far outshone thoughts of any present he might receive.
Finally the family sat down to Christmas dinner. On each wooden plate was a little rice, so thin it ran into the talinum (a slippery plant) salad. There was soup, too, made from 4 tablespoons of mung beans, much water and a little garlic. When Richard saw a weevil in his rice, he just pushed it to the side ... at first the kitchen crew had picked out the worms and weevils until they saw there was more bulk if they were left in.
When every speck was gone, Mother brought out the “cake” and carefully divided it in four pieces. Not one crumb was left!
Gathering around the “tree” four faces shone with joy. Mother had spent hours making a lovely calendar for Daddy. Sitting under a bare bulb in the community bathroom, she had sewn patriotic red and blue rick rack on an old shirt tail. A friend had drawn a picture of the camp for the top. As he held the 1945 calendar, Daddy prayed that rescue would come soon!
Richard proudly handed Mother the much-needed mop handle, a stick that he and Daddy had rubbed smooth. “Now you won’t have to dig any more slivers from my hands from scrubbing this rough floor,” Mother said as she kissed both of them.
“I know what this is” cried Richard as he unwrapped his round package. “A baseball!” Daddy had traded something he didn’t need to get it from another internee.
After each person had received a present, there was still one tiny package on the tree. “What could it be?” Daddy wondered. “Why just look! A sugar cube!” Tears came to his eyes as he remembered it had been given to Millie at a party a few days before. He never dreamed his hungry little girl would save it for him! But Millie asked, “Daddy, did you notice that the corners are nibbled off just a little bit?” Daddy laughed through misty eyes and divided that little round cube into four pieces so each might share some of the joy.
Imagine! A cube of sugar, an old baseball, a mop stick, a shirttail calendar and a tumbleweed giving such joy to my family and me Christmas, 1944!
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Date: 2009-12-13 02:27 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-12-13 04:12 pm (UTC)