Jake pretended he needed to relieve himself and limped over to the benjo. No guard appeared to be watching, so he bent down and talked into the toilet pipe. “Bob, Bob, are you there?”
“What’s wrong?” came Bob’s reply.
“Nothing. I can’t tell you everything, but I was praying, and it was revealed to me that the war is over today and we are victorious.”
“That’s great, Jake,” Bob replied in an astonished voice. “I sure hope so.”
“I know so!” Jake said jubilantly. “We just have to wait for rescue now.”
As time went on and Jake was mysteriously given more meager but nutritious meals and more medicine, he felt himself growing stronger by the day. He refused to entertain the thought that he would be killed rather than freed by the Japanese. Instead, Jake’s thoughts turned to what he would do when he was released. This was something new for Jake. Until this point he had not felt confident that that day would come. Now he was sure the release was just days away. As he contemplated his release, Jake promised God that he would thank his mother and stepfather for his godly upbringing.
Eight days later Jake stared at the tiny window high in the brick wall above him. Smoke billowed in the distance, and pieces of burnt paper fluttered around in the air. The guards who brought dinner were wearing new uniforms. Jake was sure that they had broken into the supply cupboard and stolen the uniforms—another sign that the end of war had happened and that Japanese military discipline was breaking down.
That night seemed like one of the longest nights Jake had ever experienced. This time, though, it was not because he was despairing. No, he was too elated to sleep. His body was still in pain and he was hungry, but he knew it would not be long now.
As Jake passed the long night, his mind drifted to what Japan would be like after the war. In prison he had seen how the soldiers worshiped and obeyed their emperor as if he were a god. What would happen when the emperor surrendered, leaving the Japanese without the assurance that they were invincible?
Suddenly Jake sat bolt upright. It was as if the air around him were electrified. Then he heard a voice speak to him: “You are called to go and teach the Japanese people and go wherever I send you.”
Goose bumps rose on Jake’s arms as he tried to take in the experience. Was it real? Had God spoken to him that the war was over? And was God now commanding him to return to Japan? But as what? A missionary?
The idea astonished Jake, but he determined not to dismiss it.
Chapter 13
Senso Owari
On the evening of August 20, 1945, Jake was settling in for another long night in his cell when without warning, the cell door swung open. A guard was standing outside. “Come with me,” he ordered.
Jake stepped tentatively out of his cell, just in time to see Bob and Chase emerge from their cells. Then George Barr, propped up by two guards, was brought out of his cell. The men were marched to a room they had never been in before—a room with a faucet and a mirror.
“Time to shave,” one of the guards said. “And we will give you haircuts if you like.”
The guard’s statement seemed so foreign to Jake. The airmen were being given a choice as to whether or not they wanted haircuts. It was the first choice Jake had been offered throughout three years and four months of incarceration in Japanese military prisons. And more surprises followed. Hot water came out of the faucet when the tap was turned on, a luxury Jake had last enjoyed back onboard the USS Hornet. As he shaved, Jake decided that he did not want a haircut—or what amounted to a head shaving. Perhaps—he hardly dared hope this—but perhaps they were going home, and he wanted to look as normal as possible.
Looking in the mirror, Jake realized that his wavy brown hair was probably one of the few things any of his family would recognize. Scars from various infections lined his now gaunt, pale face, his cheeks were sunken, and his bright blue eyes seemed unnaturally large.
When Jake had finished shaving, it was George’s turn. Since George was too weak to hold his head up, one of the guards held his face while the other shaved him.
Next, Jake was handed an American Army Air Corps uniform to change into. It took him a moment to register that it was his old uniform, which he gladly put on, even though it was now two sizes too large for him.
When the men had all washed, shaved, and changed clothes, they were marched into the courtyard. George, weakened from being shaved, was loaded onto a stretcher and carried out. A prison official was waiting for them in the courtyard. “Senso owari—the war is over. You can go home now,” he announced, bowing to the captured Doolittle Raiders. His words took a moment to sink in, and then the three prisoners embraced. Tears streamed down their cheeks. Somehow they had survived and were now going home. It was too much for them to fully take in after forty months in prison, with all but 184 days of that time spent in solitary confinement.
The next few hours were a blur to Jake. There were so many sights and sounds to try to make sense of. A truck arrived at the prison to take the men to a former luxury hotel in the heart of Peking called the Grand Hotel des Wagons. For the first time since being captured, the airmen were allowed to roll up the canvas sides of the truck and see the outside world. What a sight it was! Hundreds of Chinese men and women swarmed around them waving flags and singing in celebration of the liberation of their country. Jake tried hard to concentrate on what he was seeing, but it was hard to think through the past few hours and all that it really meant.
Once inside the hotel, the men were ushered to the dining room. At one end of the room two Chinese women were spooning something onto plates. Like magnets Jake, Bob, and Chase were drawn toward the food the women were serving. It turned out to be hearty Irish stew, full of pieces of lamb and chunks of vegetable. Irish stew had never smelled or tasted so good to the men as they ate heartily.
During the meal, the three men were informed that George had been taken straight upstairs to a makeshift hospital ward on the fourth floor, where he was being treated with intravenous drugs. Following the meal, Jake and the other two men were ushered into another room, where they were given quick physicals, vitamin shots, and pills.
Even after their hearty meal and physicals, Jake found it difficult to grasp the fact that he was actually free and talking to other Americans and to Englishmen, Canadians, and Dutch men and women who were now liberated from Japanese internment camps. These camps had housed civilians who had been stuck in China when the war broke out. But unlike the captured Doolittle Raiders, they had had access to Red Cross parcels and even mail sometimes, and for the most part they were much healthier than Jake and the others.
Sometime in the course of the evening’s events, Jake was told that their names and serial numbers had already been wired back to the United States and that news of their release would be broadcast over American radio stations within minutes. Jake tried to picture his mother hearing his name over the radio. Then, in a moment of panic, he wondered whether she was still alive. He tried to push the thought aside and concentrate on the news that those at the hotel were telling him. The war had officially ended five days ago, on August 15, 1945, but it had taken five days for the Japanese to admit that they still had the captured Doolittle Raiders imprisoned.
Jake wondered about the significance of August 9, when he had prayed and felt God telling him that the war was over. He soon found out that on that date an American B-29 Superfortress bomber had dropped an atomic bomb on the city of Nagasaki. This was the second such bomb the Americans had dropped on Japan. Three days before, on August 6, an atomic bomb had been dropped on the city of Hiroshima. The two bombs had devastated their targets and ended Japanese resistance to a peaceful surrender to the Allies.
That night the three airmen were assigned a room on the fifth floor of the hotel. As they climbed the stairs to their room, they had to sit down at each landing to catch their breath and gather their strength before continuing the climb. But the climb was worth it. In the room three beds awaited them.
Jake had to admit that it had been one of the strangest days of his life as he breathed deeply and lay down on the bed. He was free, his stomach was full, his body was cradled in a soft mattress, and there were no lightbulbs glaring overhead throughout the night. It felt like heaven to him.
For the next three days Jake struggled with all of the information the others at the hotel tried to tell him. They were eager to fill him in on how the war had been won, which battles were decisive, and what they thought would happen next. All that they told him was interesting, but Jake’s mind was focused on just one thing—getting home and seeing his family.
On the morning of August 24, 1945, Jake, Bob, and Chase were flown out of Peking on the long journey back to the United States. An American doctor had evaluated George and declared him unfit to travel with them, a decision that made Jake and the others sad. The four airmen had come so far together, and now one was separated from the rest of the group.
Their first stop on the trip home was Chung-king, China, where news reporters interviewed the men. Jake was happy to talk about his new faith and announced that he planned to return to Japan as a missionary. The reporters seemed to find this astonishing and questioned Jake from many angles.
In Chungking, Jake learned that he had been promoted in rank from corporal to staff sergeant and had been awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross and the Purple Heart for his part in the Doolittle Raid.
Following the news conference, the army officially debriefed the three Doolittle Raiders. Army officers wanted to know all of the details about their time in captivity and what exactly had happened to Will Farrow, Harold Spatz, and Dean Hallmark. They told Jake that they were collecting evidence for war crimes trials against the cruelest of the Japanese prison guards and overseers. Jake told them all he could think of, though it was difficult for him to sort through the jumble of his thoughts and feelings and put events in the right order. Although he realized the importance of the debriefing, more than anything Jake wanted to get home.
When they had finished debriefing the three airmen, the army officers told Jake and the others that in the three months following their raid on Japan the Japanese had ruthlessly killed a quarter of a million Chinese men, women, and children. The Japanese had done this in retaliation against the Chinese civilians who had helped many of the Doolittle Raiders to safety. As he listened to the depressing story, Jake wondered how much the world had changed while he’d been imprisoned. Had the United States been attacked? What was left of Japan and Germany? But he felt too confused to try to piece together the answers to these questions just yet.
Following their time in Chungking, the three Doolittle Raiders were on their way again. There were more stops and delays along the way, but on September 5, 1945, the plane carrying them touched down at Bolling Field, outside Washington, D.C. As he stood on the tarmac, Jake marveled at the fact that he was back in the United States. He had sometimes wondered during his forty months of imprisonment whether he would ever see his homeland again. And now here he was, his feet firmly planted on American soil.
The first thing Jake did once he got home was to call his parents. To his great relief, both his mother and his stepfather were still very much alive and doing well. They had sold the farm at Madras and retired to Salem, Oregon. Jake could tell that his mother was overwhelmed at hearing his voice, and she broke down crying on the phone. Jake assured her that he would be home just as soon as he could.
From Bolling Field the three men were transported to Walter Reed Military Hospital, where they were all given thorough medical checkups. And there were more press interviews. Jake was astonished to learn that although over 125,000 other American POWs were being released from Nazi and Japanese prisons, the sacrifices of the Doolittle Raiders had made a deep and lasting impression in the hearts and minds of the American public.
