Memories of War: Micronesians in the Pacific War

Chapter 8. The Typhoon of War

118 Chapter 8 THE TYPHOON OF WAR Given the remoteness of the islands, the effective Allied blockade, and laws prohibiting travel and the spread of war-related information, it is hardly surprising that most Micronesians knew little about how their experiences compared with those of others in distant locales. And in fact, we have seen that there is little reference to the wider view in wartime narratives. Instead, stories concentrate on personal hardships. The repetitive nature of those hardships lends itself to condensation: that is, a few dramatic incidents stand for the whole of the long period of suffering (for example, the repeated bombings or ongoing food shortages). This style of narrative also employs familiar local elements of myth and storytelling, in part told as habitual narratives in which events happen over and over again. Although stories about the initial arrival of the war are told in dramatic detail, those that follow typically are not. Peaks in the action, or climaxes, are limited, and those that do appear are caused by the actions of others. For these reasons, as well as those noted above, peoples of Micronesia commonly represent themselves as relatively passive victims of a disaster beyond their control. The amount and sophistication of the war’s technology (especially apparent on islands where land battles were fought) and its regular, repetitive, seemingly unrelenting bombardment (especially on the bypassed and neutralized islands)contributedtothissenseofpowerlessness.Ifadvancedtechnologywas a godsend to Allied forces, it verged on an otherworldly, supernatural force, or at least a strong force of nature, to Micronesians, who had not even known of its existence before they experienced firsthand its destructive force. The war blew across the islands like a violent wind, trailing devastation. Micronesians could do little more than endure its brutal passing. Peter Ianguchel from Yap the typhoon of war 119 Utter desolation on Engebi islet, Enewetak, after U.S. naval shelling and air bombardment, February 19, 1944. (U.S. Navy photo, National Archives photo no. 80-G-216031) uses this metaphor, explicitly likening war to a typhoon, in discussing the aftermath of war and the departure of the Japanese: The chiefs of Yap said that those things left behind by the Japanese became the property of the Yapese on whose land they were located. Historically, war is like a typhoon. After a typhoon, whatever you find on your property becomes yours. Islanders from many areas, with many different wartime experiences, reflect this sense of impotent waiting while the war raged: [Q: What were people’s ideas about the war?] Our ideas about the war—we just believed that we were going to die. We lacked food, because they [Japanese] con- 120 chapter 8 trolled our food from the sea and on land. They controlled our lands, or islands. There was nothing for us to survive on. We were kinrosi [labor service, volunteer or drafted] of the Japanese. There wasn’t any sign of life for us to believe we could take it anymore. (Koko Suda, Oneop, Satawan, Mortlock Islands) I myself did nothing to prepare for the war. I was just awaiting death. During the war, there was no fishing and no fires were lit. Otherwise, you could get shot. I had to cook in my rock oven at night and take food to my parents in the morning. People could no longer figure out what would happen with their lives because they were afraid, in shock, hungry, and searching for food. Perhaps some people were in shock. Many people had never heard gunfire or planes before. (Robert Gallen, Uh, Pohnpei) Everyone was unhappy during the war. We were afraid. Every day I said to myself that maybe today was the day that I would die. (Yosko Miguel, Kiti, Pohnpei) WAR FROM THE SAND SPITS The way survivors and veterans talk about war is shaped, in part, by their vantage points. Gabrielle Rosenthal1 compared German oral narratives of World War I and World War II, discovering that these stories are told in very different ways, even by individuals who experienced both wars. World War I, Rosenthal explains, was fought as a “war in the trenches,” a vantage point from which experiences were diffuse, chaotic, and repetitive. Personal accounts of this conflict tend to consist of a single image or brief evaluation; they tell the story in condensed form. The especially burdensome nature of these experiences , she believes, is linked to the way veterans...