Death on the Hellships. Gregory F. Michno
THE OCTOBER VOYAGES
By the fall of 1942, Japanese prisoner distribution had formed a pattern. First, the large manpower pool still in Java and Singapore would be tapped for the Burma Railway project, resulting in a flow of men from the outer islands to the Asian mainland. Second, the successful experiment to bring white POWs north for the edification of the Koreans would be continued. Realizing, however, that the POWs could be used for more than propaganda purposes, they were shipped in droves to the empire as slave laborers. Prisoners could work at scores of jobs, in dockyards, factories, cottage industries, shipyards, coal and copper mines, and on construction gangs. Third, on a smaller scale, and almost as a cross-current to the first two trends, ad hoc prisoner groups continued to be shipped among the conquered islands for a number of reasons. At least eighteen POW shipments during October was the highest number for any month of the war.
In Hong Kong, few prisoners had been moved prior to October. The British colony had already suffered its own miniature “Rape of Nanking” when, on Christmas Day, 1941, Japanese troops had entered St. Stephen’s College and the temporary Jockey Club hospital in Stanley, systematically bayoneting, raping, and killing about 160 prisoners, wounded men, and nurses. Those who managed to surrender and live were segregated by nationality. The Americans and other European nationals were kept at an internment camp on the island at Stanley. About five thousand British were imprisoned on the mainland at Shamshuipo Camp, on the waterfront in Kowloon. The Canadians went to North Point on the island, and the Indians went to Mautauchung. As in Singapore, the Indians were pressured to join the Indian National Army, and about two hundred of fifteen hundred complied.41
In September, the Canadians at North Point were moved across the harbor to Shamshuipo. With their arrival, a draft of 616 British POWs departed from Hong Kong for Japan on the Maru Shi (four) on 3 September. Later that month, it was decided to move a larger contingent of British soldiers to Japan. About 1,816 men were assembled on the parade ground of Shamshuipo Camp and were addressed by Lt. Wada Hideo, assisted by interpreter Niimori Genichiro. “You are going to be taken to a beautiful country,” Niimori translated, “away from Hong Kong, where you will be well looked after and well treated. I will be in charge of you. So remember my face.”
Wada may have been in charge, but Niimori, the chief interpreter in the Hong Kong area, wielded more power than his appointment would indicate. He was a small man with pointed ears and usually wore military field boots and a khaki cloak, although he held no Army commission. Nicknamed “Panama Pete” by the prisoners, he had been educated and lived for a time in the United States, where he worked at rodeos and amusement parks and picked up many colloquialisms. He could sound like a American gangster, with his oft-repeated use of “Youse guys.” Other times his mispronunciations or misunderstandings could be comical. He, and Col. Tokunaga Isao, commandant of the Stanley camp, liked to play bridge. Often, unwilling Europeans would be asked to join them. During one evening game, Niimori suddenly asked an internee, “Do you know anything about fucking?”
“Yes, a bit,” replied the puzzled man.
“I used to own one,” Niimori said proudly.
“Is that so?” said the prisoner, unsure of just what Niimori was talking about and trying to maintain his composure.
One learned not to laugh in Niimori’s face. He would blow hot or cold, becoming a kind friend or a sadistic brute, on a whim. When some Canadians were recaptured after an escape attempt, Niimori and a lieutenant spent an hour bashing them with baseball bats.
Niimori Genichiro would be responsible for the POWs on their journey. The men were divided into kumis of 50, given the usual medical inspection, and loaded on the 7,053-ton passenger-cargo ship Lisbon Maru. The twin-screwed vessel, built in 1920, was 445 feet long, with a beam of 58 feet, a loaded draught of 27 feet, and a cruising speed of twelve knots. It was owned by the NYK Line and had a crew of 65. The number one hold took contingents of the Royal Navy and the 1st and 2d Battalion Royal Scots. Number two hold took the Middlesex Regiment, and number three held Royal Artillery men. Lastly came 778 Japanese troops returning home, plus 25 guards.
Men had to take turns lying down, shoulder to shoulder on roughly constructed platforms. Surprisingly, the food was decent by POW standards: rice and tea in the morning, and rice, tea, vegetables, and a bit of bully beef in the evening. There was an adequate supply of drinking water, but none for washing. The prisoners were allowed on deck to queue up for the wooden latrines hanging over the side. Half of them were given kapok life belts.
Lisbon Maru steamed off on 27 September. Four days of uneventful sailing passed until early in the morning of 1 October. Patrolling the East China Sea south of Shanghai was the Grouper, on her second patrol and skippered by Lt. Cdr. Rob Roy McGregor. On the surface in the darkness, lookouts had spotted nothing but sampans until, at 0400, a freighter appeared on the southern horizon. McGregor approached for a closer look but figured a night surface attack in the bright moonlight was too risky. Grouper ran parallel to the target to determine her course and speed, hoping to get in position ahead for an underwater daylight attack. The freighter appeared to be heavily laden, moving at a speed of eight knots.
At daylight Lisbon Maru changed course 50 degrees, leaving Grouper in a poor attack position. McGregor dove, and at 0704 fired three torpedoes from thirty-two hundred yards. All either missed or failed to explode. The Lisbon Maru continued on unaware, and McGregor fired a fourth fish. Two minutes and ten seconds later a loud explosion was heard. McGregor peered through the scope. He could see no sign of damage, but the ship changed course another 50 degrees to starboard and slowly came to a stop. She hoisted a flag that resembled “Baker” and began firing a small-caliber gun in the direction of the periscope.
On board Lisbon Maru, first warning that they were being stalked by a submarine came when Grouper’s torpedo slammed into the starboard coal bunker. The engines stopped and the lights went out. No POWs were injured by the explosion, so they could only guess what had happened. The few of them topside were immediately sent below, while extra sentries were placed at the hatches to make sure they stayed there. Niimori ordered tarpaulins stretched across the hatches and fastened with ropes.
Meanwhile, McGregor closed to one thousand yards and at 0845 fired again. Another miss. McGregor was furious. He was sure his calculations had been accurate and the poor results were due to malfunctioning torpedoes. He conned Grouper to a new position about one thousand yards off the port bow and, at 0938, fired a sixth fish from a stern tube, set to run at zero feet. Upon firing, McGregor spotted a plane and dove to one hundred feet. About forty seconds into the dive, he heard another explosion. Two minutes later the plane dropped three depth bombs in the submarine’s vicinity but caused no damage. The torpedo might have been a premature, for no one aboard the Lisbon Maru felt additional hits.
Grouper (SS 214). U.S. Naval Institute
Grouper popped back up to periscope depth at 1000. The plane was still there, but McGregor could see no target. Since it hadn’t moved for two and a half hours, McGregor logged, “Assume she sunk.” They went back down and stayed in the vicinity throughout the day, hearing occasional explosions of distant depth charges. At 1905, under an overcast sky, Grouper surfaced and hauled clear.42
After the initial shock of the torpedo hit, the Japanese calmed down, but they became very uncooperative. During a long, uncomfortable day, it was apparent to the POWs below that the ship was listing to starboard, but they were given no information. The water supply had run out, there was no food, and the battened hatches left the air supply foul. British officers appealed to Niimori to be allowed on deck for air and to use the latrines, but to no avail. “You have nothing to worry about,” Niimori said, “you are bred like rats, and so you can stay like rats.”
Later in the day, the old Momi-class destroyer Kuri and freighter Toyokuni Maru came to help. Since they were unable to restart the engines, it was decided to transfer the 778 Japanese soldiers to Toyokuni Maru and tow Lisbon Maru to shallow water. After removing the