Evening star., 1945-11-07
Gen. Woinwrieht's Own Story;
Gen. Wuinwisht's Own Story: RI &~5-
Colonel Who Protests Lack Of Food IsDeuyeh
Three Times; Carols Are Sung at Christmas
(Thuty-second of a Series.J
BY GEN. JONATHAN M.
WAINWRIGHT,

VAIN WnlOu1.
We made a point of having the
best Christmas we could scrape to-
gether at Karenko Prison Camp
In 1912. Our spirits. were so low at
that time of the year we knew we
must find some kind of spiritual
lift or abandon all hope. Christmas
of 1912 thus became more than q
holiday; it became hook on which
to hang our very lives.
Col William F. Braley had some
how managed to save his violin from
the Japs. His playing often was a
great solace to us in the barracks
and, fine musician that he was, he
formed and became leader of good
choir made up of the prisoners.
We had no song books but, hap
PLY, several officers remembered the
words of some of the more familiar
Christmas carols, and these the
choir religiously practiced in the
days leading up to December Is.
We all wanted to give the ap-
pearance Of being carefree on
Christmas eve. I was still rocky
from a couple of beatings and the
beri beri, but I got up and joined
in the decorating of our barracks
and the swapping of small presents
after we had had our Christmas eve
supper of the rice and the hot water
the Japs called soup.
Merry Christmas Sign.
We cut up old cigarette boxes and
anything else we could find that was
colored and formed the bits into a
sign reading Merry Christmas u
Some of the boys brought in a bit of
greenery from the truck garden in
which we were working and spread
these about in the manner of holly.
When we had done all there was
to do at giving the barracks holi-
day air, we sat down to admire it
pathetic as we knew it was-and
tried to talk of the Christmases we
had known without choking up.
Then the choir began to sing as
robustly as their conditions per-
mitted. They started in the far end
of the barracks, singing carol or
two for each squad. went into my
room and sat down on my cot. I
could hear their voices coming
closer.
At last they were outside my door
and, after a pause, they began to
sing an old favorite of mine, "Hark,
the Herald Angels Sing" 1 could
not help putting my head in my
hands. I was so glad they could
not see me.
Something came over the Japs on
Christmas afternoon. To our wonder
and surprise they gave us 30 ducks,
for what was now more than 400
prisoners, and each of us was given
an apple. The ducks went into our
soup and carefully, scientifically
Maj. Gen. George F. Moore saw to
it that each man in our squad got
his proper length of silver. We ate
Christmas dinner together, were
grateful for it, and hoped that it
would mark turning point in our
treatment.
Still Made to Work.
But there was no change. We con-
tlnued to be forced to work to get
an occasional extra spoon of rice,
and we weighed that extra nourish-
ment against the strength we were
spending. The beatings continued,
usually at the latrine, where there
was always line-so aggraya ted
had become our kidney conditions.
I had been hungry night and day
since the start of the war year
before. Food became a mania with
all of us. We woke up each morn
Ing with hunger paramount in our
minds, ate our rice and hot water
and were as hungry after it was
finished as before, yearned for food
through the long day, and went to
sleep to dream of food. Every time
during the night when we would
have to go to the latrine-and risk
beatlng-We awoke to the realiza-
ton that we were starving; that we
must find nourishment..
: Our bodies had long since con-
sumed all the human fats stored
up by nature to provide for this
veryscontingency. Our energies were
now consuming the very muscula,
tissues of our bodies. Our weekly
baths in the common bathing tank
were shocking spectacles, for only
the mass nakedness of our mer
brought home to each of us our ter
rible state.
Our labors had even used up the
inner muscle of our buttocks. The
skin OF our buttocks just hung down
the backs of our skeletonized legs
like deep pockets. But we were
beyond all modification over our
appearance. There was nothing ir
our mind except food. The lush
banquets we dreamed of at night
only made the awakening to reality
that muen worse.
Ate Viscera of Cattle.
Early in January, 1943, we re.
celved something, from our captors
which under any other circumstance
would have been a revolving gift
The Japs maintained slaughter
house near Karenko, and a Ship
ment of cattle had been sent there
to be turned into some sort OF
canned meat for the Jap army
This day in question we received a
quantity of animal stomachs, in
testines and lungs. We ate this
:nauseating viscera greedily, hoping
not SO much to build up our strength
but simply to avoid passing out
completely.
H We craved animal protein sc
madly that after every rain many
/ of our members would search the
i ground for snails. The snails which
h did show themselves were far re.
I. moved from the escargot which
\ French chefs can prepare so taste.
fully. They were a large, tough
I mussel, dreadful to taste. But thos.
1 who found them considered them.
4 selves lucky and hobbled quickl,
eover to the kitchen to boil them il
1 hot water and wolf them.
Our rice that winter contained {
/ white worm about an inch long
with a black head. There were
dozens OF these worms in every cup
At first we carefully took them ou
/ of the rice with our chopsticks anc
put them to one side.
81 But in final rIesneration ue clneer