Jake also learned that three movies—Thirty Seconds Over Tokyo, The Purple Heart, and Destination Tokyo—had been made about the daring raid on Japan. Some of Hollywood’s most famous stars had played parts in the movies, from Cary Grant to Spencer Tracy and Robert Mitchum. The movies ranged from the factual to pure fiction, but they had all helped to boost the morale of the American people during a desperate time. Jake could hardly believe the amount of press coverage the whole Doolittle Raid had generated. Articles about the raid had appeared in Life, Time, Reader’s Digest, and Colliers magazines.
Jake read slowly through one of the old magazine articles to learn what had happened to his fellow raiders. He read that all but one of the Mitchell B-25 bombers that had taken part on the raid had ditched in China and the other plane had landed in Russia. After various harrowing adventures, sixty-four of the Doolittle Raiders had made their way to Chung-king, which was still under Chinese control. From there they had been returned to the United States, where most of the men were able to continue fighting in the war. One of the Raiders, Corporal Leland Faktor, the gunner/engineer of plane #3, had been killed bailing out of his plane, and sergeants Donald Fitzmaurice and William Dieter had died after the crash landing of the Green Hornet into the ocean. The crew who had landed in Russia had been detained but not imprisoned by the Soviet government. And the Japanese had captured eight of the Raiders. The article stopped there, but Jake knew the ending: three of the eight were executed by their captors, one died of starvation while in prison, and four came home.
Finally, the American public were told the ending to the story, and they were eager to hear every detail. Jake was paid $2,250 to tell his story for newspaper syndication, and a radio show paid him $400 for reading a one-sentence endorsement on the air.
Jake was given nine weeks’ leave from the army. It was time to go home to Oregon to see his family. Jake stared out the airplane window as the majestic Rocky Mountains spread north and south below him as far as he could see. What a wonderful sight it was! As he flew west, Jake thought about his future. He was a Christian now, he knew that for sure, but what did this mean now that he was a free man? While in prison he had learned how to love his prison guards and how to pray, but what kinds of things had to change now that he was out of prison and back home in the United States?
As Jake sat contemplating these questions he felt God speak to him: “I don’t want you to touch alcohol or tobacco ever again.” Jake was not surprised. His Church of God upbringing had been strict about such matters, and Jake was sure that many ex-servicemen would turn to alcohol for comfort and solace. He did not want to be one of them. Right there, sitting on the plane flying over the Rocky Mountains, Jake made a vow to keep away from consuming alcohol and smoking for the rest of his life.
When Jake arrived in Portland, Oregon, reporters and a military escort met him at the airport. The army wanted to make sure that Jake came home in style. The group arrived at his parents’ home in Salem around midnight—several hours later than expected. His mother and stepfather and many of his siblings and their families were waiting for him. It was a joyful reunion, one that Jake had rehearsed a thousand times over during his forty months of imprisonment.
Of course, Jake was too excited to sleep that night, and he sat up talking to his mother, stepfather, and half sister Helen. His mother told him the story of how her faith had been kept alive while the Japanese held him. “You had been gone several weeks when I woke up suddenly one night with a strange feeling that I was being dropped down, down through the air,” his mother said. “I couldn’t work it out, but I got the idea that it was something to do with you. So I started praying hard that God would take care of you. Eventually the burden lifted, and I was able to go back to sleep.
“Later I heard about the Doolittle Raid over Tokyo. Everyone did, but I had no idea you were involved until a reporter from the Portland Journal called us to find out about you and ask for a photograph. When we asked why he was interested in you, he said the paper had information that you were part of the Doolittle Raid and had probably been taken prisoner. My heart dropped, because I knew how the Japanese treated their prisoners.
“I felt that same burden again many times, and all I could do was pray that God would surround you with His angels. I thought, If my Jakie has angels to keep him company, he can’t do better than that.
“Then one day a U.S. military officer came to the house with the terrible news that all the captured Doolittle Raiders had been executed by the Japanese. I told him, ‘No, sir. I believe Jake is still alive. I have that from a higher power.’ But still it was a struggle to keep believing that you were alive without hearing a single word from you for over three long years,” she said, dabbing her eyes with the corner of her apron.
Jake later learned that when the war was over his stepfather was despondent. Alone in his berry garden he wept. “Bands were playing everywhere, and the whole country was having a party. But how could I celebrate when our Jakie wouldn’t be coming home?” he said.
Jake’s sister Helen also told him that there were many times when his mother and stepfather were unable to eat their dinner. Their mother would cook a hearty meal, put it on the table, and then pace the floor staring at it. “I wonder if Jake has anything to eat tonight,” she would say, and suddenly everyone’s appetite would evaporate. Often those at the dinner table just looked at their meal and then slipped off their chairs onto their knees and prayed that God would provide for Jake.
Now that Jake was home, everyone ate well. Jake’s mother kept on hand a constant supply of Jake’s favorite foods—apple pie and fried chicken. She was determined to make up for all the home-cooked meals he had missed while imprisoned.
Over the next few days hundreds of relatives, friends, neighbors, and church folk passed through the house. Some came to get Jake’s autograph, while others just wanted to shake his hand. Many stayed to take part in family devotions and offer thanks to God for Jake’s safe return. Sometimes, as he listened to his stepfather reading a chapter of the Bible, Jake marveled at how his heart had changed. What was once dull and boring was now alive and exciting.
Jake also spent time each day sorting through the pile of mail he received. Letters arrived from strangers who wanted to wish him luck or tell him about family member they had lost in the war. Dozens of catalogs came from Bible colleges all over the country, eager for a famous Doolittle Raider to attend their school. It was all a little overwhelming for Jake, who often would have to take a walk to clear his head.
A week after arriving back in Salem, Jake decided to make the 130-mile trip east to visit Madras, Oregon. The whole town of Madras gathered to celebrate Jake’s homecoming, and Jake was asked to address the crowd. This was the first speech Jake had ever made in public, and his knees were shaking as he stepped forward to speak. At first his words were halting as he thanked the assembled crowd for the warm welcome and told them how good it was to be back among them in Madras. Then he began to tell them about his experiences as a prisoner of the Japanese and how in the midst of that he had responded to the gospel and how in an instant his life was changed.
The people listened attentively to what Jake had to say, but before too long he had run out of words. Nonetheless, Jake was encouraged. It wasn’t the easiest thing he’d ever done in his life, but at least he had spoken publicly and openly about his experience. He felt that he could only get better at public speaking the more he did it. The opportunity to do more public speaking arose when Jake returned to Salem. He was asked to speak at a church service and at a youth rally. As he had done in Madras, he spoke from his experiences as a prisoner of war and explained the change becoming a Christian had made in his life.
Jake had been home in Oregon for only two weeks when a telegram arrived from the army, directing him to report immediately to the Santa Ana Air Base in California. No one could believe it. Jake was supposed to have nine weeks’ leave. “Surely a man who has been a POW for so long deserves a longer break,” his mother said in despair. But there was nothing anyone could do about the situation. Jake had not yet been discharged from the army, and he had no choice but to follow the orders he had been sent.
Jake packed his kit bag and set off for California to complete his army duty. Since the war was over, he had planned to ask for an immediate discharge upon his arrival at the Santa Ana Air Base. He was dumbfounded when his request for a discharge was denied because of a backlog of paperwork and because the whole discharge process was moving slowly.
There was not much for Jake or anyone else to do at the air base. Many of the men spent their days playing cards and drinking—but not Jake. He called on several of his Christian relatives in the area and set up speaking engagements.
Just as he was adjusting to this new phase of his life, Jake learned that he had been assigned to KP duty. One of the tasks given him was carrying trays of dishes to and from the mess hall to the kitchen. Jake, who had been liberated from the Japanese prison in Peking only a little over six weeks before, found the task to be physically draining. Still, he tried his best to load up the trays and successfully maneuver them where they needed to go.
One day while Jake was struggling with a tray of plates, he turned his head to catch the flash of a camera. An unauthorized newspaper cameraman had taken his photo. The next day everything broke loose at the air base. Jake’s picture appeared on the front page of the Los Angeles Times with the caption, “Is this how America should treat a former POW and decorated war hero?” Apparently it was not, because later that day Jake was sent to the base hospital for observation, and the officer in charge of putting him on KP was given a severe reprimand. Within days Jake had his discharge papers from the army and was on his way back home to Salem, Oregon. He had $5,600 back pay in his bank account, and he was free at last. His days in the military were behind him.
Chapter 14
A New Beginning
Jacob, this is President Watson,” his sister Helen said as the two of them greeted a middle-aged man with caring eyes.
Jake smiled shyly.
The two men shook hands and President Watson said, “Your sister tells me that you are interested in attending Seattle Pacific College. Is that right?”
Jake did not quite know what to say. How could he explain to the president that he wasn’t sure what kind of student he would make? Yes, he did want to be a missionary to Japan, and yes, he did know he would have to get some qualifications. But he had graduated from a tiny, rural high school nearly fourteen years before and had spent most of World War II in solitary confinement in a Japanese military prison. As a result, he sometimes found it difficult to get his thoughts together and nearly impossible to speak them in the right order. He replied, “I’m thinking about making a slow start. Maybe taking a class or two next semester to see whether or not I can fit in.”
President Watson took Jake’s arm. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” he asked with a frown. “If God has called you to Japan, the sooner you get trained and over there, the better. The door is wide open now, but it might not always be that way.”
Jake nodded. He’d had the same thought. But how, he wondered, could he settle into a rigorous college life just two months after being released from prison?
“Don’t worry,” President Watson assured, seeming to read Jake’s thoughts. “There are plenty of people here to help you along. And besides, since you’ve been through military basic training, you already have some credits. That will lighten the load during the first year if you want.” He looked directly at Jake. “The best thing is to jump straight in before you get sidetracked. The semester started two weeks ago, but we have a place for you, and the other students could help you catch up. It wouldn’t be too difficult. I know everyone would welcome you here and do whatever they can to get you started.”
