Dick Williams  Conversation with Freddie Edwin
 


Losr, Lellu, Kusaie Island, sometime in 1972
I was sitting with Freddie Edwin in his cookhouse at Losr (pronounce it losh like lush only with a o--it means "Darkess") on that day. M/V "Kaselehlia" had arrived earlier in the morning from Ponape on it's every-other-month trip, bringing supplies, mail, and this time for Freddie and me, a real treat-a bottle of sake. After drinking warm Kirin and Asahi beer for 6 weeks, warm sake would be a treat. Today was especially appropriate-it was raining steadily, and cool. Now, we watched the rain drip off the thatch and sat contentedly quiet, anticipating the drink. It was time to ask Freddie for a yarn or two.

Freddie had fired up the kerosene stove and got an old saucepan. He poured about 2 inches of water in it, and into that he sat a container of sake. With this simple dutch oven, the sake would get hot, but not boil. In 6-8 minutes, we were warming our hands around the mugs of sake he had poured. I asked Freddie a question.

Freddie, if you don't mind saying, did you have any narrow escapes during the war? I knew that he was either a conscriptee or enlistee with the Japanese Army-every local of age was in those days. Wow, did I ever he responded. He took a drink. Dick, have you heard there is a Japanese ship sunk right at the dock over there where the Kaselehlia is tied up? I had heard a little about it while listening to some Peace Corps worrying that reported "mines" on board might explode one of these days. A little I said. Can you fill me in? I sure can he said, as I was not more than 250 feet away when it was sunk. It went like this:

We were a gang offloading the ship, and I was working with two soldiers. While we were stevadoring, suddenly, here came three American sentoki around the far end of the island down there. They were very low and in a V formation. As soon as they levelled off they began strafing the ship and us. We ran like mad for that large rock you can still see across from the dock. (It is about the size of a compact car). On that first pass the soldier on my left was shot. He was only inches away from me. The soldier on my right was wounded. Nothing happened to me. On the second pass, the soldier on my right had put his rifle on my shoulder for a brace and fired a time or two, then fell silent. After the planes passed, I looked around at him. Dead! That left me. Now the planes returned flying high, and dropped their bombs. The ship was sunk. After it was all over, I made my way home. Whew. He paused. There was another time tho, even closer than that. How could that be, I wondered? Tell me about it, I said.

Well, you can see the hill there at the near end of the island. During the war, there was an observation tower on the top, and my assignment was to man a large telescope which was stored in a cave-storehouse down the hill. When I went on duty, another guy and I would get the scope, carry it up the stairs, mount it on it's permanent mount and scan the horizon as lookouts for approaching ships and planes. Kusaie had been shelled in the past and we could sound the warning in advance to give people time to take cover. We finished our shift on this particular day, stored the telescope and went off duty. At the base of the hill along the road between here and the hill, there was a restaurant where off duty soldiers could buy a meal. We usually went there to eat, and today was the same. The restaurant was not very large. We went in, found a table and ordered. Suddenly, blam! A sentoki had come in with the engine idled doing a glide bomb run, dropped the bomb then gunned the engine and climbed. We were the target. Dick, the bomb came in where the ceiling and the wall meet. It went right thru the restaurant without hitting a thing, and exited where the foundation and wall on the other side of building met. It then skidded along the groud and wound up resting against a tree. It was a dud! Army personnel took it away and detonated it. Had it gone off--curtains! He took a drink. I was merely silent, in wonder. He paused
reflectively and then said softly, there was one other time.

As you know, Dick, the Americans blockaded all these islands in those days. The Japanese had one supply/passenger ship left, the Saipan Maru. It had run the blockade and was now in port, but going to leave the next day for Ponape. I had family there and wanted to see them, but I wanted to take them food too. So, I bought a ticket. The sailing time was late the next afternoon, which would give me time to canoe down to my land about 2 hours away, harvest breadfruit, return and make the sailing. Early next morning I did just that. I knew I had lotsa time to return, and imagine my surprise when as I was about back to Lellu, there went the Saipan Maru without me! It had sailed early for some reason and I had missed the ship. I was disappointed. She never made Ponape. We learned later she had been torpedoed off Pingelap or Mokil and went down with all hands. He smiled, looked at me, took a drink and grew quiet.

I took a drink too. Quietly, thoughfully, we enjoyed the sake, the warm cookhouse and watched the rain drip off the thatch.

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