Blood Brothers by Eugene C. Jacobs (i can read book club TXT) 📕

prohibited all trading with the Japs! A civilian gambler from Manila ignored his orders and obtained rice and candy for his friends. Angry prisoners scattered the rice and candy into the darkness.

December 29, 1944: Raining. Prisoners fought each other, trying to get their cups and mess gear under the drippings from the hatch covers to catch a few drops. Two spoons of rice.

1800 hours - Blasts of large guns on the deck. We crawled off the wooden planks on to the steel deck. Depth charges were exploding on each side of the ship for a thirty minute period. Then there was enthusiastic clapping by the Japs on the upper deck. It was announced: “Japanese Impeliar Navy has sunk Amelican submaline!” Banzai/ Banzai/ Banzai/

At 2000 we dropped anchor. There was a full moon. Pens, rings and mess gear were being traded for cigarettes or water. It was a very cold night.

Hips and spines were becoming extremely sore-attempting to poke through the skin.

December 30: The sea was very rough. Our empty ship,

floating high, pitched and pounded. Half cup of rice; several spoons of water.

2000 hours - shelling and depth charges for half hour. During the night a Japanese soldier fell from the upper deck into our hold killed by the fall. This added much to the usual confusion. Intermittent depth charges all night as our ship dashed and pounded across the open sea toward Formosa.

Dee. 31, 1944: Sunday-No food; half cup of water! Col. Johnson told Mr. Wata: “If we don’t get food, we will all die!”

Mr. Wata responded: “Evelbody must die! This is no time for sympathy!”

The sea was very rough and very cold! During the night we entered a land-locked harbor-Takao in Formosa. It was New Year’s Eve! The old bewhiskered rabbi and farmer, Aaron Kliatchko died. The count, (?)

1,304

 

Jan. 1, 1945: We dared to think that things might get better in “forty-five.” We began to hear, “Still alive in ‘forty-five!’” Issued five moldy “hardtack” type biscuits.

The prisoners were now like animals in a cage begging for food and cigarettes. The Japs couldn’t understand how the Americans could expend so much energy jumping for cigarettes, when they were supposedly very weak. Three-quarters of a cup of water (a real treat). Bitter cold. We were extremely hungry, thirsty and cold. Our bodies were very sore and we were unable to sleep.

Old John “The Thief,” died. The count, (?) 1,303.

Jan. 2, 1945: The harbor was surrounded by high, snow covered mountains; we were in southern Formosa. The Japanese patients were taken out of the holds; their areas were fumigated by American soldiers-hoping to get something to eat in return for their work.

Col. Johnson again requested food. Mr. Wata answered: “United States submalines sink arr Japanese food ships! Vely solly!”

Many prisoners continued to scramble around the hold grabbing for cigarettes thrown down from the deck above; they were more addicted to tobacco than food. Their prancing around made it more difficult for us to convince the Japanese that we were hungry and thirsty.

Received two-thirds cup of rice and one teaspoon of dried fish. No water! A bitter cold night! Much coughing! Some prisoners were acting crazy; doing weird and unpredictable things. An officer was assigned to guard the stairway so none of these crazy

persons would try to escape and cause an incident.

Jan. 3rd, 1945: 0800-There was an air-raid alarm! It was followed by rapid firing from the deck for about two hours; much running about on the deck above. Several planes flew low over the harbor probably observing. No food; no water!

When I tried to stand, I blacked out! Many prisoners were coughing, and suffering from cramps and dysentery. It was a very cold night. The Japs worked all night loading the ship.

Jan. 5: In the evening, as we were trying to get to sleep, several of us were showered with 11 liquid, which tasted like battery acid. “What were the Japs up to now?” The liquid proved to be the contents of a latrine bucket; the prisoner, carrying the bucket to the deck, was so weak, he spilled it. When we asked the guards for some sea water to clean ourselves off, they just laughed.

I volunteered to take guard duty at the stairway so I wouldn’t freeze to death.

Jan. 6th: It was bitter cold! We were still barefooted and wearing the summer clothing received at the Olongapo Naval Base in the Philippines. The guards were shivering in spite of heavy overcoats. No food; no water!

We were taken up on deck, then down a long ladder to scows and moved out into the harbor. Some prisoners were grabbing dirty and rotten vegetables floating in the filthy water. Some even filled their canteens with sea water.

In a few minutes, our scow pulled up to transport No.2, the Brazil Maru. We were soon up the ladder and put in the second hold with the other prisoners - all 1,273 of us. We were told that there had been thirty deaths on the Brazil Maru. We were divided into groups of twenty. Again it was very crowded; much confusion, much cursing.

Half cup of rice; a quarter cup of thin cabbage soup. A miserable night.

Jan. 7, 1945: We started a hospital on the upper deck and moved some fifty dysentery cases into it. The Japs gave us some dysentery medicine-looked like pellets of gunpowder. Flies were very bad. Four died! Tenko (?) 1,262.

Jan. 8th: Hatch covers were moved above us admitting dazzling light and extreme cold. All prisoners were moved off from the lower deck; about 473 into the forward hold, and about 789 on to the upper deck of our hold; again it was very crowded.

Thirty-seven English and Dutch prisoners were taken off the ship-to be transferred to a P.O.W. camp in Formosa.

Winches lowered many sacks of sugar into the lower hold. Mr. Wata warned us, “If you touch any sugal, you vill be hollibly shot!”

Jan. 9th, 1945: At daybreak, we heard many planes followed by anti-aircraft fire in the distance. Very soon, planes were overhead! There was panic in our hold. Men were trying to get off the wooden planks on to the steel decks. A young captain stood up and shouted, “Everybody stay put! You are as safe in one place as another!”

A direct hit produced a blinding and deafening explosion nearby; a tremendous orange flash followed by pandemonium.

Hatch covers above came crashing down into the bilge, dropping many prisoners thirty to forty feet below. There were screams, cries, groans, and oaths! The air was filled with dust and dirt. Wounded were soon being dragged into our improvised hospital; many with fractures, shrapnel wounds, all covered with dirt.

Just as we were getting the wounded cases moved into the hospital and the dysentery cases out, back came the planes. When it was over we had lost several of our doctors. Col. Riney Craig, Major Mack Williams and I were the only doctors still active. We removed the clothing from thirty dead to give to those still living. No food! No water! Open hatches aggravated the bitter cold night.

Jan. 10, 1945: We worked on the wounded all morning. In the afternoon my attention was called to a shrapnel-made gash in the forward bulkhead of our hold. I looked through into the forward hold and witnessed the most horrible sight of my life.

There were three hundred mangled Americans piled some three deep the result of a direct bomb hit. At the sides of the hold, a few wounded were sitting and standing dazed and motionless. The Japs had no compassion at all they would not let us enter the forward hold to help in any way.

Jan. 11, 1945: Finally, two days after the bombing, several masked and white robed Jap soldiers gallantly descended the ladders into our hold, and painted mercurochrome on minor wounds. They would not look at the serious wounds.

The Japs wound not enter the forward hold. Only God knew what suffering was going on there. Jap laborers pounded wooden

[image018.jpg]

wedges into the holes in the sides of the ship. Water in the forward hole was up to the flooring.

The night was bitter cold; my feet had lost all feeling. There were endless groans and screams from the wounded and crazed.

Jan. 12, 1945: Forty-five bodies in our hold were tied to lines to be lifted to the deck. I can never forget the grotesque positions some of the bodies assumed as they were raised. Then the winches lifted 150 bodies out of the forward hold and placed them on a scow beside the ship.

One cup of rice! No water! Not even rice for the survivors in the forward hold.

Jan. 13, 1945: 150 more bodies winched out of the forward hold. We heard that the dead were taken to a Chinese cemetery near the beach and cremated.

In the afternoon, our sick and wounded were raised on ropes. The rest of us climbed the long ladders and sat on the deck waiting our turn to get on a small platform to be lifted; twenty at a time; then dropped at a dizzy speed to a small scow.

There were many dead on the scow; among them, my old guerrilla chieftain, Col. Everett Warner, of Pikesville, Md., who had died just as he predicted, “Like a rat in a hole!” It made me ill to look at my good friend his face was covered with large blood blisters but I wanted that one last look. I had always had much respect for this dedicated soldier, a Freedom Fighter!

Enoura Maru: We were quickly taken over to the ship we had been on earlier No. 1, the Enoura Maru and were soon pulling each other up the long ladder. We were all placed in the same hold just aft the superstructure.

Ed Nagel, John Shock, Cary Smith, and Wade Cothran were crowded into a very dirty bay with me; it was filled with coal dust. We huddled next to the coal containers to preserve any warmth in our bodies. One-quarter cup of rice; no water!

Thirty bodies were quickly piled up by the stairs after being stripped of their clothing to be used by the living. The count, (?) 924.

Jan. 14, 1945: Sunday - At dawn, we moved out of the harbor in a convoy of six or seven ships. Everyone had dysentery. The latrines were two boxes hung over the side of the ship. Only two persons were allowed on the deck at a time. Many were too weak to climb the stairs. The floor soon became filthy, making walking in bare feet very unpleasant.

Our ship zigzagged generally north at a speed of about eight knots. One-quarter cup of rice; no water! Another thirty prisoners died. Toward evening, medics carried the bodies to the deck; after a short service by the strongest chaplain, the bodies were slid into the sea. The count, (?) 894.

Jan. 15, 1945: The night had been extremely cold; I had lost all feeling in my feet. I had no desire to freeze to death; in fact I had volunteered for the Philippines because I enjoyed warm weather. We were all becoming extremely dehydrated; urination became very painful. One cup of rice; no water (4th day). The count, (?) 864.

Jan. 16, 1945: Several inches of snow on the deck. Some men were .going down into the hold to get sugar. It was very difficult to swallow the sugar without water.

Cursing and stealing were now a way of life. Anchored all night. The count, (?) 834.

Jan. 17, 1945: I was bitter cold; we were hibernating-huddled close together-not moving any more than necessary; we were saving our energy. One-quarter cup of rice; no water (6th day): Usual deaths. The count, (?) 804.

We were very