IN THEIR WORDS
1941 might mean that my family – including Connie, a Russian national – would be repatriated to the United States. We had a formal wedding in the High Church of England about a month earlier than planned. Connie was scheduled for a champion tennis match that day, and his brother pulled him out of our wedding lunch so he could compete. Even though the wedding had been formal and legal, it was hurried and early. We were married two times after that within 60 days – once at a Russian church, because I always wanted a beautiful white wedding, and then at the Swiss consulate because they were neutral, and we thought it might help somehow. In fact, a ship did leave for America that fall, but because the Japanese had frozen all bank accounts, we didn’t have the money for passage, so we were stuck. After Pearl Harbor, the Japanese interned all enemy nationals, which included Dad and me – Mother and Connie were not interned since Russia was not at war with Japan. I started packing, thinking perhaps we’d be gone for six months. We were put on buses with other Americans, British and Dutch and taken to the Chapei internment camp – the site of an old university, a three-hour drive away. After being pampered all my life, I was terrified. Upon arrival at Chapei, I was separated from my dad, who went with the men. I was housed in a dorm, 10 women to a room with simple cots. We were very tightly confined and could shower only once a week. Life at the camp was not easy, but it wasn’t as harsh it could’ve been. We had food, but we were always hungry. Sometimes our bread had worms in it. Still, I laugh and say living with the pandemic is worse than Chapei – at least at the camp we could walk around without masks! But, yes, there was barbed wire and use of the bayonet and 24
CHATHAM MAGAZINE
beatings were not uncommon for those which read: “It was good seeing you last who tried to escape. night ... I wish we could give sleeping pills There were quite a few young people to the guards!” When I tossed this note in the camp. The guys made “hooch” over the fence, it landed at the feet of a out of rubbing alcohol, and we rolled Japanese guard! Connie was immediately cigarettes out of toilet paper and tea leaves. picked up, and I was also picked up on Connie would come by once a week and my side of the fence. Thinking of that toss a package of lard with chocolate and bundle of letters I had from the prisoners, canned goods over the fence. Connie and I was worried. Upon seeing my father I would secretly plan his visit. His strategy walking toward me, I yelled at him to go was to toss a package over the fence at a to my room and throw the notes away. I prearranged time when the guards weren’t was taking quite a chance, but luckily the looking. We couldn’t talk. It was a “driveguards didn’t speak English. by” gift. And I’d collect letters from other Connie was taken before the prisoners and throw that package back to commandant. “Why did you do it?” the him. I also used some of my cunning to top man asked. “Well, wouldn’t you, if meet up with Connie. The doctor at the you’d been married just six months before camp occasionally sent me to the hospital your wife was interned?” he fired back. – which was in Shanghai – for a checkup, The commandant said he understood, and I’d sneak out to visit Connie. Wanting and Connie was sent away on his bicycle. to spend more time with him, I dreamed up Because they didn’t really punish him, we surgeries, even once having an unnecessary suspected that the war was coming to an nose operation, which necessitated my end. But the prisoner committee decided remaining in the hospital an additional I could have no privileges, and I was two weeks. ordered to wash linen for the infirmary. We were cut An American off from any friend, Fred, news, and the was in the first time we hospital at that thought the war time, but when might be ending he heard about was the result of my situation, he another rule I got on the bus broke. In camp, and returned to we had to walk camp. He told the past a chemical committee that Claire Lance factory on our if I was forced to and Connie. way to another building. wash one sheet, he’d rip it Some of the Russian boys up! Once more, I avoided were working there, and retribution. someone told me, “Connie’s In the late summer of working over there!” That 1945, an American B-29 night, he jumped over the swooped low over our fence to visit me, and we camp, and a week later, the spent about two hours in U.S. Marines walked in the a shed, yakking away. The gate – that was the first we next day I wrote a note, knew the war ended. CM
DECEMBER / JANUARY 2021
