Ghost Carrier: They Died to Fight Another Day (9 page)

Joe was convinced there was not another place on the earth more fitting of the term,
God forsaken
. He felt with absolute certainty God had left here a long time ago.

The perimeter of the prison camp closest to the high fences was littered with the stench of death from the rotting corpses of the men who collapsed from thirst or starvation. In this dead zone, bodies lay prostrate on the ground, their lifeless empty eye sockets staring up at the blazing sun as seagulls and pelicans fought over the carcasses. The crew was never allowed to bury their fellow fallen sailors. Occasionally the guards would throw the remains into the sea to reduce the smell.

Joe and the men soon recognized that to the Japanese, POW status meant they were the lowest form of life on earth. Not even human. Japanese soldiers considered surrender a disgrace. If capture became imminent, a Japanese soldier often committed suicide. In the Japanese mind, the POWs had disgraced their uniform and country and did not deserve to live.

For his part, Joe was barely hanging on. He had adjusted to the one piece of bread at breakfast and another at dinner. It was the dysentery and his meager four-ounce daily water ration that was draining the life from him. He constantly drifted in and out of hallucinations. This morning he woke up and thought he saw and felt his old Hamilton watch on his wrist. The one he had left with Franny. Blinking his eyes open and closed several times, the watch returned to what he expected to see -- his stainless steel Omega. But for a moment in the morning haze, Joe could have sworn on a stack of Bibles the Hamilton was absolutely real. But it was this horrific island prison camp that was all too real. Even the way they had come ashore had been another brutal fight for survival.

Chapter 11

TWO WEEKS EARLIER KALAUPAPA PENINSULA

The Japanese transport vessels listed wildly from port to starboard in the churning ocean and furious gales as they neared the island coast and the highest sea cliffs the men had ever seen. On the forward most transport ship, Joe peered at the rugged landscape coming into view. Under his breath he uttered, “This is definitely not Pearl Harbor.”

He turned away from the barren island landscape to see many of his fellow sailors dry heaving over the rails from seasick stomachs that hadn’t seen food for days. Joe felt his strength ebbing, but he was determined to survive one way or another. Many of the men shared the same mindset. They had already endured so much. Mullinnix had requested that the crew of the
Liscome,
which included the Deadman’s Club, remain together in the same group. Mullinnix felt that unity would be their strength. He was somewhat surprised when apparently Vice Admiral Yamaguchi agreed. But as he stood beside Joe Rusk watching the island come into view, he couldn’t help feeling a sense of dread.
I should have kept my mouth shut during the surrender ceremony
, he thought.

Suddenly both Mullinnix and Joe felt the ship turning about. Joe turned to Mullinnix, “We’re not even close to shore. What’s going on?”

“I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.” The Admiral briskly walked back toward the bridge of the vessel. Joe watched fellow sailors beginning to be herded down into the lower deck. After several minutes, Joe joined the rest of the men on the bottom deck. Theo was right behind him. The massive back access hatch had been dropped into the sea. The ship was still distant from the island.
Surely not anywhere near close enough to be expected to swim to shore,
Joe thought. He was wrong.

At gunpoint, the Japanese guards began directing men into the convulsing ocean. Joe judged the swim to shore to be about 60 to 100 yards through three-foot swells. It would be a challenge for even the most experienced ocean swimmer. But Joe knew the dirty little secret that many of his fellow sailors kept. They had never learned how to swim. For many, this jump into the churning sea would be a jump to their doom.

“No. No. I won’t! I can’t!”

Joe recognized the young, squirming, freckle-faced sailor struggling with the guards near the open hatch. It was Bobby Cannon, one of the radar ops and a member of the Deadman’s Club. He was screaming and pushing back the Japanese sailors trying to collar him. He had his heels dug in like a dog knowing he’s on his way to the vet.

After less than a minute, one of the older Japanese guards had seen enough. He pulled an 8mm, semi automatic Nambu from his waist holster and blasted two lead slugs into the boy’s brain.

There was silence.

Then chaos.

The American sailors erupted in a chorus of curses as pushing and shoving began while the guards threw Bobby’s crumpled, lifeless body into the sea. The Japanese sailors stepped back and leveled their carbines at the Americans.

Joe whipped around to Mullinnix three rows behind him and searched his eyes for guidance. The admiral was red-faced and angrier than a buzzing hornet’s nest. When Joe finally caught his eye, the Admiral sternly mouthed, “Stay alive.”

Joe turned back around and Theo, who had been silent the entire time, finally found the courage to speak, “I cain’t swim.”

“What?”

Theo repeated, “I cain’t swim. I cain’t swim!”

“Okay, okay, Theo. I’ll show you what to do. Stay beside me. I’ll make sure I go into the water first. Don’t lose sight of me, you hear. Don’t lose sight of me. I’ll wait for you in the water.”

Theo, wide-eyed, absorbed every word.

“First thing you gotta know about swimming is to let the water do the work. You weigh less in the water so don’t thrash around trying to float. You can float. You just gotta paddle a little to keep yourself moving forward. Can you do that?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Remember let the water and tide do the work. You can’t hang onto me or we’ll both drown. It’s up to you, Theo. Just like at Pearl. Can you do that?”

“Yeah, yeah. I think so”

“Theo, you gotta decide something for yourself right now. Right now.”

“What’s that?”

“Are you gonna die today?”

“What?”

Joe repeated his question slowly looking directly into the large man’s eyes, “Are you going to die today?”

A soft smile crossed Theo’s face. He understood, “Hell no, motherfucker. Hell no. I just got used to livin’ again. Hell no. Theo ain’t dyin’ today.”

Joe knew the big man was going to make it.

LATER ON SHORE

Joe drenched, weakened, and spent from the swim lay face down in the sand. Theo was a short distance down the beach, doubled over coughing out seawater. Howling wind filled their ears.

“
Okiru
!
Okiru
!” yelled a Japanese sailor now standing over Joe.

Joe didn’t know any Japanese, but he guessed this was his cue to move. As he managed to stand up, he was surprised to see the soldier was wearing what appeared to be a medical or doctor’s surgical mask. Joe turned and down the beach he saw men continuing to stumble in from the sea and collapse on the shore. Many had bloodied arms and legs from crawling over the jagged lava rocks close to shore. Directly in front of him, he saw some of the crew gathering. A guard, also wearing a mask over his mouth, motioned them to form lines. Behind them, a senior Japanese officer standing on several crates in front of a large fenced in area wore a mask as well. The officer seemed to be preparing to address the group. Joe made his way closer to hear better over the howling wind.

“Attention, American prisoners of war,” the senior Japanese officer barked in perfect English through his mask. “You are only a few remaining skeletons of those who tried to defeat Japan. You are pitiful victims. You have no fighting power left, but the Imperial thoughts are inestimable and the Imperial favors are infinite that you should weep with gratitude that your lives have been spared. You are here as examples to endure a great suffering equal to that which you have inflicted on Japan. You now stand on one of the most remote islands in the Central Pacific. There is no escape from here. Behind me are 1700-foot cliffs, in front of you, the unforgiving sea. No ship ever docks here. No one ever comes here. This peninsula is home to the largest leprosy colony in the world.”

The Americans froze and turned to one another. All had heard of hidden places like this in nightmarish stories. Places where horribly disfigured, highly contagious lepers went to die among their own kind, shuttered far away from all human contact. Joe watched a few fellow sailors start to pray while others attempted to cover their noses and mouths as if not to breathe too much as the Japanese officer continued, echoing each man’s deepest fears.

“Gentlemen,” the officer smiling broadly behind his medical mask continued, “welcome to the island where you all will die.”

Chapter 12

FRANK AND KATE’S HOUSE

Katie had gone about her morning routine as Frank went on his walk. She paused in the kitchen to brew a pot of coffee. Frank had said he might stop for a paper and pick up muffins so not to worry about him if he wasn’t back home right away, but that was before he realized his watch was missing. He was definitely upset when he left the house.

Katie never stopped worrying about him these days, but new fears had crept into her mind. What would happen to her if they could not bring Frank’s dad back? Would she instantly become someone else in the same body? Would she vanish out of existence? What about their son and the grandkids? She felt on the edge of a complete mental breakdown, but reminded herself she had to keep it together if she was going to help Frank.

As the coffee began to drip into the pot, Katie decided to return to straightening up the house. She entered their bedroom, quickly made the bed, and then stepped into the bathroom. There on the counter next to the shower was Frank’s Hamilton watch. It startled her so much that she jumped back. They had covered every inch of that bathroom. There was no way this watch that she now reached for was in this room when they searched. No way. She ran to the phone in the kitchen. They had to see Maria right away.

KALAUPAPA PENINSULA

Joe had returned inside his canvas shelter to escape the blazing sun. It was only 0800 in the morning but being outside felt like noon. Not only did he feel physically exhausted, but with each passing hour his hope faded of ever returning to the world where he had a family The pain of knowing this brought him to the point of complete despair. He no longer cared whether he lived or died. His dehydrated body had no water for tears, but he knew he was crying. He covered his eyes with his hands and whispered a prayer to God to take his soul from this place.

Suddenly a brightness filled the area right in front of him like someone had thrown open the canvas flap to the bright sun. Joe pulled his hands back from his eyes and saw a shimmering human figure taking shape three feet in front of him.

The figure, a man, slowly became clearer. He wore a long dark clergyman’s frock and a distinctive round hat with a curved up brim. He had round glasses and held a cross. As his face and body grew clearer, Joe could discern dark spots on his cheeks and missing fingers on his right hand.

Joe spoke, “Who are you?”

“My son, I have brought you the means, but you must find the will to survive.”

The figure spoke with what sounded like a French accent to Joe’s ears. “Father? Who… What are you?”

“I am an emissary. I minister over the inhabitants here. I am Father Damien.”

Joe felt an overwhelming sense of peace radiating from this being.

“Am I imagining you? Is this a hallucination?”

“No, my beloved. I am as real as the earth you walk upon. You must return to your world. I have been called upon by God and by your adult son to assist your transition.”

With that Joe broke down and in a quivering voice asked, “My son? Is my wife alive?”

“Your wife is with the Lord. Without your conscious awareness, the pleas of your soul have reached your surviving son.”

The son Joe never met and God were reaching across time itself to rescue him. He could hardly comprehend what was being said to him. It was emotionally overwhelming and he began to weep dry tears once more. Gathering himself he asked Father Damien to guide him.

“What do I do? When can we go?”