grandmaama

I found my younger sister and brought her to an air raid shelter (my family had agreed to meet here in case of an emergency) , ~100m away from the house on a slope of a hill. We found my younger brother there already. He untied his own ropes and had been slashed in the face and thigh by a soldier’s bayonet. He was bleeding a lot. He heard our voices from outside and crawled out of the air raid shelter (apparently the entrance is very tight).

I told my brother we had to get out of here. They (Japanese soldiers) will find us here. There is a clear path that everyone can see to the shelter. The shelter was a dead end and had only one exit.

TL;DR – I first ended up in an air raid shelter.

In our house, I was tied up with my older sister. I managed to wiggle free, we both ran away. A Japanese soldier tried to bayonet me. I pushed him away and ran towards the cornfield. While running they shot their guns at me. My ears were ringing. The soldiers were drunk at the time, most likely because they knew they had already lost the war.

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We gathered rice sacks, some rice in a can and water from the shelter. My brother said that when the eldest brother ran away he would be going to a family friend’s house. So I said we should go there too. It was quite far. So I thought we should maybe stay here for a bit. While preparing to sleep, we heard gunshots and were frightened. I told my brother we should leave. I prayed that God would protect us and that my father would be okay (She gave the impression that she already knew he was dead).

The following day we went away from the city and we stayed in the hut of my dad’s friend’s house. They were killed earlier. The caretaker of the land let us stay there. We heard that a Japanese sniper was still trying to kill more people so we were very afraid. American soldiers found us and told us to go back to the city where it was safer. We went back to the city with a Filipino family we met along the way. They shared their food and resources with us. While walking back to the city we passed many empty Japanese camps. I remember stepping on a dead person’s skull thinking it was a coconut. There were lots of dead bodies on the side of the road and in the brooks/creeks. We stayed 1-2 weeks in a Japanese camp that was now occupied by American soldiers. The Japanese soldiers were pushed back far into the countryside at this time. We ate the food from the Filipino family (coconut porridge). American soldiers came and felt sorry for us so they gave lots of food from the mess hall (corn beef, meatloaf).

We (younger sister and younger brother) ended up meeting up with the rest of the surviving family (older brother and older sister). We lived in my father’s friend’s house. My older brother (22 years old) went back to our home to get some galvanized iron and wood and built a small shelter. It was built near an American encampment. It was not very secure.

My younger brother brought a tin can everyday to go the camp to get the leftovers from the American soldier’s mess hall. We ate sausage, meatloaf, cornbeef hash, pork and beans. I became sick of it.

My dad is a very good father. He loved us very much. When I was 6 years old, I had whooping cough. He brought me to the city to get an injection everyday for a week. He always carried me on his back across many hills. I could hear him panting very hard. I felt bad for him. I always remembered that very well.

War is a waste of life. People don’t need war. We learn, but it’s no use. We keep repeating our mistakes.