 Words at war, presenting Gwendoo's prisoner of the Japs. Hong Kong? What is Hong Kong, anyway? Hong Kong? Why, it's a tiny island off the coast of China. Oh, Chinese? Well, no, it's a British colony. It's one of the most powerful outposts of the empire. Sorry to interrupt. Perhaps you have not heard of Japan's greater East Asia coprosperity sphere. Oh, we don't need to worry about that. Hong Kong's an impenetrable fortress. Has been for a hundred years. But this is 1941. Hong Kong airport has been destroyed. All planes smashed. All naval installations are under artillery bombardment. Japan is at war with Hong Kong. Words at war. Tonight, the National Broadcasting Company, in cooperation with the Council on Books in War Time, brings you another in its series of radio adaptations of important books of this war. Each week, selected episodes are dramatized from some of the most stirring of our war-inspired literature. Tonight, we hear the story of an American newspaper woman who happened to be in Hong Kong on the day the Japanese attacked. The book is Prisoner of the Japs. The author is Gwen Dew. If 1941 was to have been my last day in Hong Kong, I'd planned to take a plane that evening from the airport the Japanese smashed. I didn't want to leave Hong Kong. Something was going to happen there and that's why I'd come in the first place, as correspondent for the Detroit News and Newsweek Magazine. But that Monday, I was going to leave. No one left. Only those who died. The defenders of Hong Kong were pushed steadily back. The city was squeezed like a nut in the jaws of a nutcracker until the shell of it and the meat of it were mashed. It took the Japs 17 days to capture the Gibraltar of the East. I lived in a hotel, the Repulse Bay Hotel. I was there along with 200 other British and Americans and a small garrison of soldiers. You take time for a cup of tea, soldier. I can't see you, so I don't know who you are. Just a second, Miss. After I get this one, maybe I got that one. Name's Arden, Miss. I know you. I recognize your voice. I hope you got him. What difference would one more make? I ask you, what difference? You kill them and kill them and they keep on coming. Please have some tea, Arden. Just a sip. Give me your hand. So dark in here, you might spill it. Careful. You got the cup? Got it. Thanks, Miss. That tastes good. New women have been swell, cleaning and scrubbing up the messes, feeding us. You sound so tired. I feel as if I was 90 years old. How old are you? 23. I used to wonder how I'd feel if I killed a man. I've been in the volunteer corps here a couple of years. But I've always been frightened that, well, that I'd be scared to kill someone. Now? Now. If I could personally kill every Japanese on this island, I'd be happy. Day after day, night after night. At night you couldn't sleep. There was only gunfire and terror. I used to almost pray for the light to come, even though it meant more horrible things would happen. In the morning at least you could lift the blackout curtains and look across the bay to the mainland. Now held by the Japanese. On the fifth morning of the siege, the early morning light I saw, it could hardly believe it. A boat detached itself from the others and starved for us out of the shore. Toward Hong Kong. The machine guns began to bark. I thought some crazy fool was trying to escape from the jabs. A telephoto lens on my camera. See a sun on a large white banner. All major. Well, like everything else today, Miss. Duke. Three Japanese officers coming into the heart of Hong Kong. Look at them, strutting up the steps as if they... Can I just get a picture? I am Colonel Tadda of military information. I am Major Boxer of his Majesty's... Young lady. Yes? That camera. You are a photographer. I'm a reporter for an American newspaper. You want to take photographs? I'd like to. Oh, certainly. Come over here, please. I will stand here. Captain, also on my right. A snow on my left. Shall we all smile? Young lady, take your photograph. There. Remember, please. I am Colonel Isumo Tadda of Japanese military intelligence. Someday you will write about me when the war is over. Yes, Colonel Tadda. Also. Now, Major Boxer. We have come with an offer of peace from the Japanese government. I shall send word at once to the Governor-General. Perhaps you should add that not only is Hong Kong doomed, but also that Pearl Harbor has been destroyed. The American Navy has been sunk. Yes? I shall send word to the Governor-General immediately. The answer, Colonel Tadda, is no surrender. No surrender? Indeed. No surrender. You shall have until four o'clock this afternoon to change your minds. The war shall be resumed if we do not hear from your government. This is all then, I think. Perm, Asano, also. Major Boxer, you will order your men to withhold fire till four o'clock. Then, if we have heard no more from you, the war will go on. Good afternoon. I say, Major Stewart, if the war's got to go on, those taps are in our hands. You could, you know, you could. Fire on them? Not until four o'clock, Mr. Holmes. That afternoon war began again and continued through the fifth night, through the sixth day, the seventh, the eighth, the ninth. And after each of those days, another night of terror, weariness, despair, the ammunition getting low, water going, food. Yes, here I am. Arden, Miss, will you do me a favor? Of course. It's a duck, give me a hand. There, got it, a piece of paper. Yes. My mother's address is on it. Will you try to get a message to her sometime? Sure. Arden, it looks bad, but you mustn't think. Listen, Miss Dew, we're getting out. The soldiers, I mean, tonight. We're going to try to crawl to Fort Stanley. There'll only be civilians in the hotel in the morning. Only civilians? Yes. Then maybe the Japs won't kill everyone. That meant we were surrendering. The British flag was coming down. The white flag of surrender was going up. We must bow to the bloodstained banner of the rising sun. We were filled with people trying to sleep. I didn't think I could, but I went to the crowded room I shared with a number of other people. Somehow I must have dozed off. And the unbelievable thing was true. The Japs were in possession of the hotels. I'll never forget those guards. They teeth too big for a face. Or a bayonet too long for a gun. I'll think of those Japanese guards. And the Japs were playfully dropping bombs. And underfoot. Arden, Miss Dew, careful where you're walking. Oh, it's one of our men. Yes, Miss. Arden. I can't be sure, Miss Dew. He didn't get through to Fort Stanley. Carry these men. The Japs don't bury their enemies, Miss. Didn't you know? They consider it a particularly delicate form of insult to let them lie there day after day in the sun under the flies. When we reached the city, the guards finally let us sit down in the gutter and rest. After carrying 45 pounds of camera equipment all day, I was pretty glad of a rest. Towards evening, we ended up in a deserted paint factory. No furniture, no plumbing. Just three empty floors. And one candle to each floor. We were packed in like pigs in a stockyard so close we could hardly sit down. 200 frightened, homeless people. And like people everywhere, we took out our feelings in different ways. Some in weeping. I will lift up my eyes unto the hills. Some in prayer. My help comes from the Lord. I would be much obliged if you'd take your elbow off my hand. And if you'd took it out in quarrying. You know what that is. In this crowd, everything I got is in this box. And who's going to steal your trash? We've got no stuff. Trash! Oh, fire me, and it's free. I'll show you who was trash. You two have to quarrel. Bad enough already. We're going to say to you, shut up. We're the children. After all, this is Christmas Eve. Now look here, people. I know we all feel all hope, but we've got to keep our chins up. Let's try to think about something else. It's Christmas. Can somebody sing a carol perhaps? Oh, Christmas carol. Oh, I mean it. Now, let's try. Come along, somebody. Who knows the old little town of Bethlehem? Oh, little... They were trying. Hard. As for me, well, I'm a newspaper woman and I was busy keeping my eyes open. That was my job. Most of the people in the room, I knew, but the jabs had thrown in a few strangers with us. One of these was a nurse sitting right beside me. You're a Red Cross nurse, aren't you? Yes. You see much of the fighting? Yes. Where were you? At St. Stephen's Hospital. It was the day before yesterday, early in the morning. Hundreds of wounded British and Canadian soldiers, some of them even lying on the floor. And then the jabs came. They killed Dr. Whitney. Dr. Black, too. We were there all day. All night. You are a reporter, aren't you? Yes, I am. Then tell them what happened to me, to the rest of the nurses. Tell them in America so they'll know what our enemies are like. Nothing to sleep on. Nothing but rice and water to eat. Life goes on. Then at last the entire foreign colony, 3,500 British, Dutch and Americans, were all herded together and moved to an old dirty hotel, the Kowloon and other Chinese brothels. You are now prisoners of Japan. Any infringement of orders will be punished by death according to military law. We were locked up 8 or 10 to a room, men and women together. One day I was alone trying to sleep. Suddenly I became conscious that someone was standing beside me. People who knew the Japanese had warned me never to show any fear, no matter what happened. So I just lay there on the floor and pretended to be asleep. And then I felt something cold, smooth and sharp on my throat. I knew it was a bayonet moving slowly across my throat, under my chin, from one ear to the other. I could feel a point resting for a moment under my left ear, under the jugular vein. Then it slid back again across my throat, cold, smooth, sharp. I didn't breathe. Finally I heard a sigh. Oh, the boot gave me a kick! I opened my eyes and one of the guards was standing over me, grinning at his little joke. Am I afraid? I wasn't afraid. Am I afraid? Am I afraid? I have note for me, see? From Colonel Tadda. To the American young lady cameraman, I would like you to come to tea. I am very busy, but I will arrange in a few days for you to come to the Peninsula Hotel, Colonel Tadda. An invitation to tea with the jailer. Well, why shouldn't I go? I was hungry. Besides, I was a reporter. The day came. I was so weak I could hardly walk to the Colonel's hotel, but finally I made it. And I was taken to his suite. A room with chairs to sit in. And food. Will you have another sandwich, Miss Dew? I've had eleven already. Then have a piece of pastry. I'll have another sandwich first, then I'll have a piece of pastry. Certainly. Thank you. Now, tell me, Miss Dew, during why I invited you here today, are you not? Well, yes I was, Colonel Tadda. It is very simple. I admire courage. I was very much impressed that day when you took our photographs. You did not show fear. So, I thought, sometime I will see this American newspaper woman. We will talk together. So you're giving me an interview, Colonel Tadda? I can afford to. You are my prisoner. All right then. If this is an interview, he has a question. What does Japan hope to gain by this war? Even if she won, most of her navy would be gone, her buildings destroyed. In the meantime, Japan will have taken all the resources of a million miles of land, Malaya and its rubber, which your country needs so badly. It's chrome, the oil from East India, and so on. What about your men? A million of your men will be dead. Miss Tew, you Americans lose sight of our physiology and psychology. We would rather die for Japan than live for her. From the battlefield, white boxes of ashes are sent home for the family's shines. Don't forget, Miss Tew, we Japanese do not think of this war in the terms of this year or next. We think of the future history of Japan. You know how one white race after another, the Greeks, the Romans, the French, have risen and then declined. The past belongs to these whites. What? The future belongs to us. Soon the whole world will be speaking Japanese. You talk as if the war already won, Colonel Tata. Japan is already the second largest empire in the world. And the American fleet was practically destroyed at Pearl Harbor. Pearl Harbor? Colonel Tata, I'm afraid Americans will never forget you for striking while your ambassadors were still in the White House talking peace. Yes, I know, I know. But there is the way it had to be done. You can win a war in only one way. Destroy the enemy before he destroys you. Miss Tew, we leave Europe to Germany. For the rest of the world, we are the new masters. And now, Miss Tew, you must leave me. Oh, are they talking of my kindness? I ask you to accept this jar of jam? Yes, I took the jam. I told you, Miss Tew, you ought to leave. I told you. And you just kept saying there's going to be a war and you wanted to see the balloon go up. And it did, didn't it, Sergeant? The balloon went up all right. I just didn't think the blooming thing would come down. Now, now, Miss Tew, tears from such as you. I am surprised, Miss Tew. Now, now, we'll be all right. From the hotel we were taken to a large internment camp. It was crowded and filthy, and we still had the same starvation diet. We set up a sort of primitive housekeeping. Everyone had duties, cooking, washing, sanitation. By now, we'd been prisoners six months. There was one thing that kept us from despair. We'd heard rumors that there was to be an exchange of prisoners, so many Americans for so many jabs. No one knew who the lucky ones were to be, but we all made plans. And in the meeting hall, someone had drawn a map of the Pacific on the wall with our probable route home. We were weak. We were ill and homesick. But we tried to keep up our spirits. In the British group, there was an amusing character, Brigadier General Maurice Abraham Cohen, bodyguard to Dr. Sunyet Sen. General Cohen was a blockade runner, guerrilla fighter, and now a prisoner. It was the general's birthday, so I suggested a party. A speech. Yes, a speech. Ladies and gentlemen, I accept this party as a tribute to my charm and good looks. And I must admit, it's only my due. What with this rice and water diet, my figure now has the graceful curbs of... A picket fence. But as we're paying tribute, there's a Reverend Dill Arman, for instance. Him and his sanitation squad have kept his filthy hole something like human. And of all the nasty jobs, I guess theirs takes the cake. Cake, did you say? What, that cake? That's right, General. Keep food out of this. You don't want to start a riot. That's my mistake. And then there's our dearest enemy, the kitchen squad. Who, in spite of the hate we bear them, keep right on trying to find new ways to cook rice. There are three cheers for the kitchen squad. And last but not least is our indispensable friend, Mr. Arlington. It's safe to say that if Mr. Arlington didn't spend his days picking the livestock out of the rice, we'd all be dead of starvation by this time. So ladies and gentlemen, I give you Mr. Arlington. Wait a minute, wait a minute. I've been waiting to bring out my surprise and had it hidden away for some special occasion. Look, a jar of something. A jar of jam. Blackberry jam. You mean its own new jar of jam? Unopened. We're going to open it now. See, didn't I tell you it was a real party? Blackberry jam. Oh, Gwen, I know it's silly of me, but I think I'm going to cry. Good evening. I say good evening. Oh, a party. A jam. Blackberry jam. Very nice. But not good for weak stomach. So... Don't touch that jam. You are my prisoners. I take care of you. Jam bad for you. So, excuse, please. I take the window. I throw out the window. Now, you'll not be sick. Now, I have news. Our government make exchange prisoners. American and Japanese. Who? Diplomats and writers. Waiter, you hear more. That is all. Now, I go. What is drawing on wall? That's just a map of the Pacific. We heard there was a chance of our going home. We were just figuring on the roof. Where is Japan on your map? Well, you see, we didn't think we'd stop at Japan. So, we didn't bother putting it on. Did not bother? Give me pencil. Here, I show you Japan. China, India, Australia, Hawaii, West Coast America, Alaska, Eastern Russia. All that is Japan. Remember that. When you go home, mark it on your map. And if you are asked, if you were ever slapped on face, then say yes and yes and yes. Well, we could bear anything now. We were going home. And at last, the exchange was made and the rescue ship set out. The Osamu Maru from Yokohama to meet the grips home from New York. After seven months of starvation and torture, we were actually sailing the route we had traced so often on our map. Hong Kong, Saigon, past Singapore, through the Indian Ocean, down the East African coast, and into Lorenzo Marquez. When we drew into the harbor, we saw the grips home waiting for us, the brave white crosses of protection standing out proudly on her decks. And coming out to meet us was a convoy of 12 boats, battled old hulks of tankers, freighters, tugs, a rusty, bedraggled crew. But flying from their masks, the Union Jack and the stars and stripes. And if they drew nearer, they joined in a chorus of welcome. The sound that lifted our hearts. The promise of victory and peace and freedom. We present in person the author of Prisoner of the Japs, Gwen Dew. Some of us came home. But 150,000 allied soldiers and civilians are still prisoners of the Japs. Tonight we have tried to tell you what that means. We have forced ourselves to speak of those days so that you may understand Japan. She has taken a million square miles of territory and we have won back 200 square miles. Perhaps if you can remember what we have said tonight, it will help us to crush Japan's new empire before the friends we had to leave have died. Prisoners of the Japs. You have heard the seventh program of Words at War, a series based on the leading war books. This evening we presented Prisoners of the Japs by Gwen Dew. The adaptation was by Nora Stirling of the NBC script staff. Next week you'll hear a dramatization of Love at First Flight, the hilarious book by Charles Spaulding and Otis Karnay. The part of Gwen Dew was played by Joan Alexander. Colonel Tadda was played by Ted Osborne. Other members of the cast were Leslie Woods, Maurice Tarplin, Flora Campbell, John O'Connor, Milton Herman, Guy Rep and Sidney Castles. The original music was written by Morris Mamorsky and conducted by Joseph Stopak. The production was under the direction of Joseph Losey. This program has been presented in cooperation with John Books in wartime by the National Broadcasting Company and the Independent Radio Station to associate