I recently bought a copy of this book (a 1947 edition by a Canadian publishing company) only to find out, when I got home, that I already have a copy published by Time Life Books. The latter is even better since it has a photo of the author taken in 1964.
I then decided to read it already before I forget again and buy a third copy.
The author was an American citizen who was married to an Englishman, Harry Keith, then working for his country as Conservator of Forests and Director of Agriculture of North Borneo (then under British Protectorate). They had a two-year old son George.
When the Second World War broke out in the Pacific the author with her young son actually had a chance to leave Borneo for safety but she had decided to stay with her husband. When the Japanese came they were all then imprisoned in one Japanese prison camp after another, the couple in separate prison camps, George with the author. Prison life, of course, was hard with all kinds of dangers, deprivations and sufferings (both physical and psychological) made more difficult by the fact that the author had a very young boy to take care of. But if you’d compare what they’ve endured with those kept in Nazi concentration camps, you’d say that camp life with these Japanese captors, at least for the author’s family, was a happy picnic. As the title of the book (furtively written during their imprisonment) suggests, all three of them survived the war. But had they been in Auschwitz instead, for example, no one most likely had come home and there would have been no book.
Literature had contributed to their survival. Before the war, the author wrote a book about their life in Borneo called “Land Below the Wind.’ It won the $5,000 Atlantic Monthly Non-Fiction Prize for ‘the most interesting and distinctive work of non-fiction.’ It was translated into Japanese and was a huge success even there in Japan. By some fortunate happenstance it had been read and tremendously enjoyed not only by some of the Japanese prison guards, but also by Colonel Suga—the shrewd, arrogant Japanese commandant of all civilian internees and prisoners of war in Borneo. Colonel Suga, in other words, was a fan and he became a benefactor of the Keiths. When he was in the mood to be kind, he’d give them food or medicine every now and then. He, as well as some guards, likewise took a fancy on the boy George who, on countless occasions, received gifts from them (sometimes secretly) like bananas, eggs, cookies and candies.
Of course, food was still scarce. The women never stopped trying to find sources for sustenance as they were perpetually hungry. A part of the author’s reminiscences about their efforts to feed themselves and the other children in the camp both surprised and amused me:
“Once a day we had masses of what we then considered an inedible vegetable. It was in the same category as spinach: green, leafy, with a metallic flavor; but where spinach was capable of being masticated this had to be swallowed in ropes, as the stalks were like green rubber tubes. The local name was ‘kang kong’. In time we improved our technique with it by chopping it up small before cooking. Then the effect was that of swallowing small rubber washers, instead of lengths of tubing.”
In the Philippines it is also called that but just one word: ‘kangkong.’ I do wonder where in the word it got that name. But it is among the cheapest vegetables because it thrives and grows abundantly wherever there’s plenty of water. It need not be ‘swallowed in ropes’ because its long stems can easily chewed and grinded (if you have teeth!) before swallowing. Indeed it is also spinach. It is sometimes called elsewhere as ‘river spinach,’ water spinach’, ‘swamp cabbage’ or ‘swamp morning glory’ (because of its flowers). In French it is called ‘liseron d’eau.’
When Japan surrendered, Borneo was liberated by Allied forces. Unlike in Germany where the orgy of killings continued long after its surrender and Hitler’s death, those in the Keith’s prison camps, at least, were spared of these senseless horrors.
I particularly liked the author’s introspective thoughts about the kind, and sometimes cruel, Colonel Suga:
“Now in Labuan the last chapter was written of Colonel Suga. The last chapter of a little Japanese man, onetime graduate from the University of Washington, patron of the arts, recipient of World War 1 Allied decorations; a military man with shaven head; a sick man with diabetes who eats no sugar; a soldier who likes children; a little man with a big sword; a religious dilettante, born Shintoist and turning Catholic; a hero and a figure of ridicule; a Japanese patriot, Commander of All Prisoners of War and Internees in Borneo…and a human being. Now in Labuan is written the end of Colonel Suga. He cut his threatened bled to death in an Allied cell, on the day that Harry, George, and I left Kuching for freedom.
“The end of his life, but not the answer to the query of his being—was he good, or was he bad? Were we better off, or worse, under a Western-educated Japanese who knew Western ideas? Did he have more prejudice against us, knowing OUR prejudices? Could he have helped us? Did he try?
“I shall say first the good things that I know of him. He was courteous to all in the women’s camp, and kind personally to many. He bowed when he might have beaten us, he smiled when he might have kicked. Courtesy does not fill empty stomachs, but it soothes worn nerves, and most Japanese officers I met neither soothed nerves nor filled stomachs.
“Colonel Suga’s picture of himself was as the cultured and beneficent administrator of the ideal internment camps Kuching. He was always kind to the children, often brought them biscuits and sweets, supplied means for their teaching, gave them what liberty he could. They all liked him.
“He had good and kindly impulses, and a real desire for interracial understanding. He was kind to me personally. I believe that he saved my husband from death.
“Against this, I place the fact that all the prisoners in Borneo were inexorable moving towards starvation. Prisoners of war and civilians were beaten, abused, and tortured. Daily living conditions of prison camps were almost unbearable.
“At Sandakan and Ranau and Brunei, North Borneo, batches of prisoners in fifties and sixties were marched out to dig their own graves, then shot or bayoneted and pushed into the graves, many before they were dead. All over Borneo hundreds and thousands of sick, weak, weary prisoners were marched on roads and paths until they fell from exhaustion, when their heads were beaten in with rifle butts and shovels, and split open with swords, and they were left to rot unburied. On one march 2,970 POWs started, and three survived.
“The Kuching prison camps were scheduled to march on September 15, 1945, had peace not intervened. It was this abandoned order which Colonel Suga had read to me on the day peace pamphlets were dropped.
“I have since heard reports of other Japanese prison camps outside of Borneo: in most of them conditions were better than ours, in few they were worse.
“For these black chapters in captivity Colonel Suga, commander in Borneo, must be held responsible.
“What his orders were, I do not know. No doubt he must obey them, or risk himself. Whether he attempted to save us I do not know, but I do know that it takes more even than physical courage to stand up for human values against patriotic seal, in wartime. Until the gun is held at your head, until the whisper comes of ‘Traitor,’ you cannot know what you will do.
“Colonel Suga was accused by the Japanese of being prejudiced in our favour, and accused by us of unnecessary brutality. We knew that he vanished on the eve of particularly cruel orders, given or carried out, as he had vanished when he knew Nakata was after me. In the cause of humanity, he might have helped us, but in wartime the cause of humanity is lost.
“In this weighing of a Japanese military man I consider two things. First, that all these horrors which I have described are war, which itself is a matter of life and death. War is the acceptance of suffering and atrocity, and the sacrifice of decency and good thinking. War itself is the crime against humanity. When we accept war we accept war crime; we then have no grounds to complain.
“Second: We in Kuching suffered under Colonel Suga and the Japanese. The entire family of Colonel Suga was wiped out by the atomic bomb at Hiroshima. Colonel Suga himself cut his throat in the Allied cells, in Labuan.
“Honors in suffering and atrocities seem even.”
After the war the Keith family recuperated in Canada then went back to Borneo when Harry was summoned back to work there and help in the postwar reconstruction. Their adventures in the next three years became the subject of the author’s third book, ‘White Man Returns’ published in 1951. Thereafter they were sent on a tour of the Philippines as UN representatives. Their stint there, where they were witnesses to the glorious election of Ramon Magsaysay as Philippine President, became the topic of the author’s fourth book, ‘Bare Feet in the Palace’ published in 1955.
I’d be very interested to get hold of a copy of this book.