Authors: Clifton La Bree
Life at the camp was difficult for the first year but most
of the inmates were able to maintain their physical and emotional sense of
well-being without any threat or fear of the type of sadistic abuse that was commonplace
at other Japanese prisons. The second year, however, established a steady
decline in living conditions, food rations, and medical supplies. The inmates
never saw a doctor or a nurse and the medical supplies were meager at best.
Malnutrition and starvation were permanent threats to the
inmates’ lives. Women’s legs became watery, bloated, and painful especially
during the nighttime hours. Loss of teeth was beginning to be commonplace.
Severe intestinal cramps affected the older inmates doubling them over with
excruciating pain. All of the manifestations of malnutrition and starvation
were bad enough, but, without doubt, the most dreaded symptom was the
frightening specter of blindness that was slowly spreading throughout the
prison population.
During the final days of 1944, conditions at the camp had
deteriorated even further. If it was allowed to continue much longer it would
be a death sentence to all of the inmates. Many of the women prisoners that had
suffered the outrages of starvation and an assortment of unattended illnesses
were, for the first time, subjected to violent sexual attacks from their
Japanese guards. Their commandant established the practice of brutally
satisfying their lust. Young and old suffered equally. Even several twelve-year-old
children were raped repeatedly.
Suicides were becoming a daily occurrence. Those women who
teetered on the edge of sanity, even life itself, were ultimately driven to
taking their own lives, seeking release from the pain and humiliation heaped
upon them. Some tore at their wrists with rusty nails obtained from the rotting
walls of the buildings. Others attacked the guards so that they would be shot
or bayoneted. One young girl had climbed to the roof of the barn among the
rafters and dove head first into a cement floor.
A number of women died in their sleep simply because they
willed themselves to stop living. They had lost the battle and there was
nothing left to live for. Everyone existed in a world of weakened will and
ebbing physical ability. Hope had died a long time ago and when the sexual
assaults started, many were incapable of coping with the terror.
Even Lisa and Madame June believed that the end was near.
Every one of the prisoners prepared themselves for that eventuality…
Late one evening, the moon was partially obliterated by
heavy cloud cover. Sporadic showers soaked Jonathon’s platoon as they blindly
followed the intrepid Sergeant Hammer and his partisan fighters. The rain felt
good against the sweating muscles carrying one hundred pound packs as they
moved across the terrain just short of a run, hardly a leisurely stroll. The
pace was beginning to take its toll on the men, even though they were in
excellent physical condition. Every human being had limitations. Sergeant
Hammer whispered back through the ranks that they could take a break on the
opposite side of the small stream they were about to cross.
The stream contained fast moving water over a base of small
pebbles. The men crossed it with ease barely wetting their pant legs. On the
far side, Jonathon leaned against a coconut tree and rested. He was an
experienced hiker and took every advantage possible to conserve energy.
Sergeant Hammer also leaned against the tree. The Rangers were silent.
Unnecessary chatter in enemy territory could be dangerous. They followed
Jonathon’s example and rested. Some ate a Tootsie-Roll candy bar for quick
energy. The discipline the Rangers had displayed on the trail pleased Jonathon.
He had hand-picked every man for the mission. There wasn’t a lemon in the
bunch.
“How difficult will it be to neutralize the compound,
Sergeant Hammer?” asked Jonathon.
“I’ve studied the camp from a distance. One thing that is
imperative is to isolate the barn and stable where the inmates are housed as
soon as possible. There’s a Japanese army supply center a few miles from the
camp. When they hear gunfire they’ll mount an exploratory patrol instantly.”
“How many men are at the supply center?”
“Two or three hundred─it varies from day to day,”
answered Sergeant Hammer seriously.
“My God, the more I hear about this mission the more worried
I become,” answered Jonathon, shaking his head. His mind raced trying to find
some way of isolating the compound from patrols sent from the base. "Would
your group of partisans be able to establish a blocking line to contain the
patrols so that they don’t penetrate as far as the compound? My Rangers can
then concentrate on the prison compound.”
“I’ve already taken care of that, Lieutenant. About
twenty-five of my best men are scouting for a suitable ambush site and will
relieve you of that threat,” Sergeant Hammer answered.
“I’m glad you’re on our side,” exclaimed Jonathon, slapping
him on the knee. “We should press on. Too long of a stop will slow us down.”
“I agree, sir.”
For several hours the Rangers and guerrillas threaded their
way through the thick tropical forest and widely spaced coconut groves.
Sergeant Hammer grabbed Jonathon’s arm and pointed to a break in the
vegetation.
“The lights below are from the plantation house,” he said in
a whisper.
Several lights were visible from the windows of a large
building something like a colonial house from his native New England. The men
were on a ridge overlooking the prison compound. The ridge was covered with
thick undergrowth, concealing them from prying eyes below. Jonathon organized
several of his men into a small perimeter defense and told the others to eat
and rest and remain as motionless as possible.
He planned to attack at the first light approximately one
hour after sunrise. Lieutenant Jacobs and Jonathon huddled around Sergeant
Hammer to formulate a plan of action. Jacobs would take two squads of Rangers
to surround the prison fence. Once in position, their first job was to take out
the four elevated guard platforms at each corner of the rectangular compound.
Working in a semicircle they would fight their way in toward the barn and
stable building in the corner of the wire enclosure. The plantation house was
outside of the fence beside the other buildings. Once the towers were blown,
Jonathon and one squad of Rangers would assault the plantation house,
neutralizing any Japanese that tried to escape from the building.
Jonathon laid his head against a small log and closed his
eyes. He was too keyed up to sleep. Tomorrow would be a rough day for the
Rangers. The night was filled with noises from the nocturnal animals who take
over the forest after sunset. A soft breeze blew from the west. It felt
refreshing against his sweat-soaked uniform. He carefully parted a branch so that
he could watch the compound below. The silence of the night was broken by a
loud high-pitched scream from a woman in mortal pain followed by several loud
commands spoken in Japanese. The screaming continued increasing in intensity.
The cry jolted Jonathon’s composure to the depth of his soul. He had never
heard such excruciating cries from another human being. Suddenly two pistol
shots rang out across the landscape. They came from the plantation house. The
screams from the tormented woman ceased.
“We’ve heard similar sounds before, Lieutenant,” whispered
Sergeant Hammer.
“The bastards are going to pay,” vowed Jonathon softly. He
had a strong urge to run down the hill to administer justice to the
perpetrators.
“Our time will come tomorrow. I pray that the women will
have the courage to hold on for a few more hours. Their deliverance is at
hand,” replied Sergeant Hammer. Jonathon grasped him by the shoulder, glad that
the valiant Filipino was with them.
The troops rested for two hours. Just as the sky in the East
was beginning to glow, the men huddled around the squad leaders memorizing the
sequences of the attack. Jonathon did not say a word to his men. They knew what
was expected of them. The gut-wrenching sounds that had emitted from the house
filled each of them with a seething rage that made them deadlier than ever.
Jonathon had no doubt that they could handle the guard detachments. Each Ranger
was equipped with a large supply of hand grenades and extra ammunition for
their individual weapons. Most carried a Thompson submachine gun.
The two squads under Lieutenant Jacobs had already left the
ridge before the sun rose to get into position for their attack. Once they were
in position to wipe out the towers and blow holes in the perimeter fence, their
volleys would signal the attack for Jonathon’s squad to lunge down the ridge to
the plantation house.
A line of coconut trees delineated the fields around the
plantation house from the tropical forest. Sergeant Hammer and five of his
Filipinos, followed by Jonathon and his remaining squad, crawled to the edge of
the clearing close to the house and waited for Lieutenant Jacobs to begin the
assault. The main entrance to the house was directly in front of Jonathon.
Sergeant Hammer and Jonathon had agreed that they would blow the entrance door
with two hand grenades, and enter the vestibule area together. Jonathon would
secure each room on the left by rolling grenades through the door as it was
opened. Sergeant Hammer would do the same on his right.
Lying in the moist dew-laden grass, Jonathon heard a voice
coming from the house. It was a pitiful cry for help and it steeled his
resolve.
“No… No… Stop you’re hurting me… stop…” It made the hair
stand up on the back of his neck. It came from a room to the left of the main
entrance. He would have to be careful where he tossed grenades, some of the
inmates may be in the rooms.
Two minutes later, explosions took place at the four corners
of the compound. Jonathon smiled to himself. Lieutenant Jacobs had coordinated
their attacks with precision. He leaped from his concealed position and darted
towards the door with grenade in hand. He rolled it at the bottom of the door
and flattened himself against the building away from the blast. Sergeant Hammer
had done the same on the right side. The door was obliterated. The two men
leaped through the opening before the debris had settled. Jonathon held his
Thompson at the ready. A door immediately to his left was blown open by the
blast. The scene he witnessed sent him into a frenzied rage.
In the middle of the room was a large four posted bed with a
lace canopy. A white woman was lying on the bed, spread-eagled with her hands
and feet tied to the four corner posts. A naked Japanese officer was on top of
the woman with his pants on the floor. Two soldiers were at the head of the bed
as if they had been tying the woman’s hands. They were frantically reaching for
their rifles when Jonathon cut them down with a short burst from his Thompson.
The Japanese officer raping the woman jumped to his feet
just as Jonathon caught him with a powerful swipe of the butt of his Thompson.
Blood spurted from his mouth and nose as he buckled to the floor at the foot of
the bed. Jonathon stood over the enemy officer filled with a hatred beyond
anything he had ever experienced in his life. The thought of the cowardly
animal forcing himself on the woman tied to the bed unleashed a desire to
torment the man the same way the Jap had the defenseless woman. The Jap was
probably the camp commandant. He shook his head and tried to get up. Jonathon
smashed his boot heel into the man’s face and without hesitation fired two
rounds into the man’s groin. A look of horror and disbelief filled the Jap’s
eyes.
Sergeant Hammer entered the room and was prepared to run his
bayonet through the officer.
“Not this one, Sergeant,” screamed Jonathon grasping the
rifle. “I want the bastard to live.”
“Why?”
“Death would be too easy for the pig. Right now he needs to
suffer. It’s pay-back time for the little bastard,” exclaimed Jonathon in a
high pitched voice he hardly recognized as his own.
The woman on the bed began to cry with deep hysterical sobs.
Her body wracked with pain and shame. Explosions and shots filled the air from
the compound. Jonathon quickly grabbed a blanket to cover her nakedness. “Don’t
be alarmed lady. I’m an American soldier and we’ve come to rescue you. These
animals won’t be able to hurt you anymore. Please, remain quiet until we’ve
secured the rest of the prison compound. Try to understand—you’re free. No one will
harm you again.” He cut the strands holding her feet and arms and tried to
reassure her, but she was becoming more and more hysterical. “Don’t be
frightened lady, you’re safe now.”
Jonathon turned to look at the Jap officer sitting in a pool
of his own blood on the floor. He was shaking all over and managed to sneer
insolently at Jonathon, who delivered a vicious blow with this boot to the
officer’s private parts. “That should wipe the sneer off your ugly face, you
pitiful excuse for a man.” Sergeant Hammer dragged the Jap officer out the door
by the hair and propped him against the side of the barn, and returned to the
room.
The woman was in shock. As soon as Jonathon had freed her
limbs she began to pound on him, screaming incoherently. “Please lady… Do you
understand what I’m saying? I’m an American soldier. You are free,” he said
distinctly, holding her flailing fists.
She was in another world. Her eyes did not look at him; they
looked through him. He was concerned about her mental stability and wanted to
console her. Yet, he also needed to find out what was happening beyond the
walls of the house. If she continued to react the same way, she might hurt
herself. He had a feeling that she intended to do just that. In desperation,
Jonathon slapped her across the face with an open palm. Her head snapped
sideways and she stopped screaming. He felt for her pulse and placed his ear to
her mouth. She was breathing heavily.
The small arms firing outside became more intense and much
closer. Jonathon glanced at the woman hoping that she would be all right for a
while. She was a pathetic looking human being, aged beyond her years with arms
and legs the size of a small child. Unconsciousness could be a blessing for
her, he thought, leaping through the door.