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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