It is difficult to write about such a tumultuous time from the vantage point of a seven year old. The wagon trains crossing the plains to California faced many trials and hardships. The adults suffered the toil and responsibilities with full awareness. Young children and the elderly often died on the way. The happiest travelers were the seven to ten year olds, too young to be be burdened with heavy duties, too young to worry about what might befall, but able and aware enough enjoy the excitement of the journey.
So it was that I, hungry for new adventure, found the prospect of traveling across an ocean pleasurable and exciting.
It was not as if we didn't know a war was coming. When I was five Chamberlain had declared his famous 'peace in our time' report to the British people. No one wanted war of course. Everyone wanted to just wish it away.
Besides Chamberlain, my parents discussed Hitler and Mussolini. They were bad people. There were other strangely named people we should hate; Hirohito, Tojo, Yamamoto, Goebbels, Schicklgruber, (Hitler's father's name until he changed it to Hitler). My father, would do an admirable impersonation of Hitler. He would rumple up his dark hair, place something black under his nose to represent a mustache, and fulminate in tolerable German.
The declaration of War by Britain and France in September 1939 was endlessly discussed by my parents and their British friends. Evacuations were begun in Britain. We had relatives in Liverpool, my father's sisters, Elizabeth and Isobel (Bess and Belle), his nephew David, my grandmother and uncle Norman and his wife and cousin Susan. As I have mentioned, in the summer of 1940 we tried to sail across the Atlantic to see them. We were turned back.
So now in the early months of the year my parents made preparations for us to evacuate Japan. For some reason my father was not allowed to leave, but 'women and children' were given a chance. Somehow passage was arranged for my mother and I on the last ship leaving the port of Yokohama. It was the Hiye Maru a Japanese ship with a Japanese Captain. We were allowed fifty pounds of baggage each. We left in the company of another family, the Robertsons, Mrs. Robinson, my friend Irene, and her older sister Betty. It was March of 1941.
I remember how the ship looked, tied at the Yokohama dock. We boarded, and stood at the rail from the first class deck and helping ourselves to rolls of paper streamers passed around by the crew. When the "All Ashore" was called visitors went down the gangplank back to the dock and mingled with the crowd that had gathered to see us depart. My father was down there somewhere. I could not see him. We threw streamers down, holding one end as the roll unfurled, hopefully to be seized by a loved one on the pier. A tangle of colored paper ribbons bound us to the shore. The ship's lines were loosed, and the ship slowly began to inch forward. The ribbons parted, a few at first, then more and more until no ties to the land remained. My mother and I went to our cabin. My mother was in tears. Thoroughly alarmed, for I had never seen her cry, I said the stupid sort of thing that comes to a seven year old's mind.
"Don't be a baby!"
"I'm not a baby," said my mother.
Wednesday, May 30, 2018
Tuesday, May 22, 2018
Japan Exodus
I have been experiencing blog block, and a busy schedule here at La Costa Glen that makes creative time difficult. So much for the excuses.
Considering how to approach this next phase, leaving Japan, I realized I would have to do some research into the years, months and weeks preceding Pearl Harbor.
As I have said, my parents and I went on a trip to Canada and the United States in the summer of 1940, but were thwarted in the original plan because civilian travel was no longer possible across the Atlantic. Consequently I never saw the grandmother, aunts uncle and cousins we had planned to see.
Returning to Japan was a shock. We no longer could live in the little bungalow, Ju Ichi Ban Yamato. We moved a mile or so away to a Western multiplex , 234E. the Bluff. We no longer had Japanese servants. Jane Savory had bright red hair, and an illegitimate daughter. She was therefore unemployable as far as the Japanese were concerned. My parents had no such scruples and she served us in the new quarters. She and her daughter, Setseko slightly younger than I, lived in the one room servants quarters at the back. Years later I was able to track down her granddaughter, now in the United States, who said Setseko (now known as Emily) was still alive but had recently suffered a heart attack.
I remember the name Chamberlain and heated discussions about him from my parents. He was a man who was famous for saying "Peace in our Time". My parents did not think much of him. I was five.
When we got back to Japan in 1940 my school had closed, the International Private School where most ex-pat children were educated.
The only English speaking school open was the Sacred Heart Convent which I attended through that winter and spring. A lot of our friends had left the country. The Robertsons remained. My mother and I left with Mrs. Robertson and Irene and Betty. The men were not so lucky.
Increasingly there were scarcities. My resourceful mother would take my outgrown clothing to the marketplace and bargain for precious eggs. Increasingly the Japanese people showed hostility. "Baka! baka!" The propaganda trucks would slowly pass along the Bluff, their loudspeakers blaring stern words in Japanese. I went to school, I went to Sunday school (Anglican) I played with friends and my father brought wonderful presets home. But there was the looming feeling that all would soon change.
Then one day I was asked to select a few of my favorite possessions, clothes, dolls, treasures, only up to fifty ponds, the maximum amount were were allowed to carry out of the country. I chose my doll, Setseko San with her beautiful Japanese clothes. Also the prize chest of drawers from the Fancy Dress Christmas parade, the scale from the shop Santa had brought, my Norah Welling dolls and the Burnie box my neighbor had made for me. Everything else, furniture, pictures, household furnishings, had to be left behind. And money. I didn't concern myself with money, but later learned that it was impossible to take cash out of the country. We left with a few personal possessions, that was it!
Considering how to approach this next phase, leaving Japan, I realized I would have to do some research into the years, months and weeks preceding Pearl Harbor.
As I have said, my parents and I went on a trip to Canada and the United States in the summer of 1940, but were thwarted in the original plan because civilian travel was no longer possible across the Atlantic. Consequently I never saw the grandmother, aunts uncle and cousins we had planned to see.
Returning to Japan was a shock. We no longer could live in the little bungalow, Ju Ichi Ban Yamato. We moved a mile or so away to a Western multiplex , 234E. the Bluff. We no longer had Japanese servants. Jane Savory had bright red hair, and an illegitimate daughter. She was therefore unemployable as far as the Japanese were concerned. My parents had no such scruples and she served us in the new quarters. She and her daughter, Setseko slightly younger than I, lived in the one room servants quarters at the back. Years later I was able to track down her granddaughter, now in the United States, who said Setseko (now known as Emily) was still alive but had recently suffered a heart attack.
I remember the name Chamberlain and heated discussions about him from my parents. He was a man who was famous for saying "Peace in our Time". My parents did not think much of him. I was five.
When we got back to Japan in 1940 my school had closed, the International Private School where most ex-pat children were educated.
The only English speaking school open was the Sacred Heart Convent which I attended through that winter and spring. A lot of our friends had left the country. The Robertsons remained. My mother and I left with Mrs. Robertson and Irene and Betty. The men were not so lucky.
Increasingly there were scarcities. My resourceful mother would take my outgrown clothing to the marketplace and bargain for precious eggs. Increasingly the Japanese people showed hostility. "Baka! baka!" The propaganda trucks would slowly pass along the Bluff, their loudspeakers blaring stern words in Japanese. I went to school, I went to Sunday school (Anglican) I played with friends and my father brought wonderful presets home. But there was the looming feeling that all would soon change.
Then one day I was asked to select a few of my favorite possessions, clothes, dolls, treasures, only up to fifty ponds, the maximum amount were were allowed to carry out of the country. I chose my doll, Setseko San with her beautiful Japanese clothes. Also the prize chest of drawers from the Fancy Dress Christmas parade, the scale from the shop Santa had brought, my Norah Welling dolls and the Burnie box my neighbor had made for me. Everything else, furniture, pictures, household furnishings, had to be left behind. And money. I didn't concern myself with money, but later learned that it was impossible to take cash out of the country. We left with a few personal possessions, that was it!
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