The MS Gripsholm and Repatriation from the Far East, 1942-1943

By Greg Leck ©

Many thanks to Greg Leck, author of Captives of Empire: The Japanese Internment of Allied Civilians in China 1941-1945,
published by Shandy Press,www.captives-of-empire.com, for the permission to publish this excerpt.

In 1942, the Italian liner TSS Conte Verde and the NYK liner Asama Maru carried American citizens from Shanghai and Hong Kong to Lourenco Marques, in Portuguese East Africa. There, the MS Gripsholm, which had been chartered by the US government, carried the repatriates back to New York City. In 1943, American and Canadia repatriates from Japan, China, the Philippines, French Indochina, and Siam were carried by the Teia Maru to Goa, India, where they boarded the Gripsholm for the trip to New York. The following are excerpts from Captives of Empire: The Japanese Internment of Allied Civilians in China, 1941-1945. All rights reserved. The TSS Conte Verde and the NYK liner Asama Maru met in Singapore, where they took on water and supplies. Then, they sailed in tandem for Lourenco Marques. They passed through the narrow Sunda Straits, between Sumatra and Java. Mrs. Roberts, the wife of the American consul at Chefoo, died on board and was buried at sea. A baby was born to a woman being repatriated from Stanley. The ships crossed the Indian Ocean, the Asama Maru leading. Entering Delagoa Bay, the Conte Verde pulled ahead but the Asama Maru quickly resumed the lead to enter the harbor first. The ships arrived at Lourenco Marques at 1:00PM on 22 July and berthed close to the Swedish ship MS Gripsholm, which had been charted by the US government to carry Japanese from New York to Lourenco Marques, and to take the Americans home. An American ship in port welcomed the repatriates with her steam whistle, the sailors waving and shouting as the ships passed by. Riding at anchor was a rusty, battered old freighter flying the Stars and Stripes from a line run up the mast. The crew on her bridge waved a welcome none of us will ever forget. Just as we passed her, steam puffed in three brief jets from her whistle, followed by a long blast. Although none of us lining the rail of the Conte Verde had ever before heard the challenging "V for Victory," we all recognized the three dots and a dash. One of the crew members on the freighter had semaphore flags, and with these he wig-wagged his message: "Welcome." It was a time of great cheering and rejoicing as we now entered this port of freedom, having been on the water twenty four days since leaving Shanghai, and having covered a distance of six thousand miles. The actual exchange took place the next day, 23 July. A long string of boxcars divided the dock. The Japanese, dressed in new suits and carrying wardrobe cases and leather suitcases, passed along one side, while the Americans, bedraggled and dirty, passed on the other. On board the Gripsholm, a buffet lunch of American foods greeted the repatriates. More than 30,000 bottles of liquor had been loaded in New York. Though the Japanese drank part of it there was plenty left for those returning from the Far East. Over the next several days both groups mingled in town; the Americans buying clothes, while the Japanese, sporting the latest fashions, stocked up on food. American repatriates had not been permitted to bring anything except two small trunks. The Japanese had brought with them Singer sewing machines, metal filing cabinets, cameras, phonographs, and even electric refrigerators. There was widespread anger among the Americans when it was observed that the returning Japanese, as well as the crew of the Asama Maru, bought everything they could, especially leather goods, tools, utensils, and gadgets. Meanwhile, American and Canadian Red Cross supplies from the Gripsholm, along with supplies from the South African Red Cross, were transferred to the Conte Verde and Asama Maru. It had proven especially difficult to reach an agreement regarding the delivery of humanitarian supplies. Initially, the Japanese government refused to send one of its own vessels to any neutral area in order to pick up relief supplies for Allied POWs and civilians. And it was unwilling, for strategic reasons, to grant any non Japanese vessel safe conduct to move in Japanese controlled waters. Proposals were made that the American Red Cross turn over to the Japanese a fully loaded ship in mid Pacific or any other point acceptable to the Japanese; that supplies be flown from the United States to a neutral point for relay to Japan; or that if the Russian government agreed, supplies be shipped on Russian vessels to Vladivostok and then transferred to Japan. Finally, it was proposed that a neutral port be selected, to which a neutral ship would carry supplies from the United States. From there, they would be picked up by a Japanese ship. This was agreed to. The supplies carried by the Asama Maru reached Yokohama in late August, 1942. The Gripsholm departed port on 28 July at 1:30PM. On board, many were still without cabin assignments, having slept for several nights on deck or in a social hall. The assignment of cabins was handled with "disgraceful inefficiency," claimed Sawyer. Angry passengers, "seething with unrest and resentment," directed their wrath mainly against "the representative of the American Export Lines, who was reported to be drunk at the height of the difficulties." But anybody in authority, including the repatriated consular staff, found themselves a target of passengers' ire. Undaunted, Sawyer and the other Foreign Service officers and clerks got down to work. One lounge was reserved for them; with eight to ten typewriters going nearly all the time, they prepared reports on the events at the various posts since the outbreak of war. The ship reached Rio de Janeiro on 10 August, and departed the next day for New York. On 18 August they passed the floating wreck of a torpedoed oil tanker. Passengers crowded the rails to view the charred, blackened superstructure. On August 18, Tuesday, we had the biggest thrill since we got our homeside mail at Lourenco Marques. At about 4 o'clock in the afternoon we passed a bit of wreckage, big enough for several men to have been on it. We passed it at extremely slow speed, no doubt to avoid striking any partly submerged wreckage and partly to make sure that we discovered any possible survivors. There was nothing alive on the wreckage. So many of our passengers crowded the rail to see, that the ship took on a decided list. Between 6 and 7, we came to a proper wreck. This time it was the forward half of a ship, floating on an even keel. It was apparently an oil tanker which had been torpedoed. The superstructure was a black mass of wreckage. Flames were still licking the edge of a hold. Our passengers crowded the rail and every vantage point, even climbing into some of our lifeboats which were swung out at deck level, everybody straining his eyes in the dusk to see if there was anybody on the wreck. Nearly everybody thought he saw one or more men moving about on deck, but this was merely the illusion caused by blackened stanchions on the near edge of the ship which seemed to move against the background of the rest of the ship, as our own ship was passing slowly by at a distance of about 200 yards. The sinking and burning must have taken place several days previously, since there was no smoke and no oil or nearby wreckage on the water. The sight was most depressing. Everybody wondered whether there were survivors and if so whether they were still afloat waiting to be rescued. The wreck was probably the Eagle Oil tanker San Gaspar. She was eventually towed to Trinidad. The Gripsholm reached New York a week later, docking on the New Jersey side of the Hudson River on 25 August. In September, 1943, Americans and Canadians would have one last chance to get home. On 2 September 1943, 1,330 Japanese civilians left New York on board the MS Gripsholm, to be exchanged for Americans and Canadians at Mormugao, Goa. The Special Division of the US State Department had successfully concluded negotiations for another exchange. This time, preference for repatriation was outlined by classification into one of eleven categories. Men who had sent their families home in accordance with the prewar advice of the State Department received preference, as did those who were seriously ill. The categories were as follows: primo - special cases appointed by the State Department or Swiss Consul General secundo - unaccompanied women and children tertio - seriously ill men quarto - men who were over 65 years of age quinto - men who repatriated their families earlier sexton - men from outports septimo - quasi officials octavo - men who were sent out by American organizations nono - others not falling into the above, who are in camp decimo - non assembled US nationals undecimo - mixed families with at least one US national. Reaching Mormugao, Goa, the Teia Maru docked with her bow to the stern of the MS Gripsholm, the Swedish liner under the command of Captain Sigfrid Ericsson. For the next three days, exchange procedures were completed, and stores brought aboard both ships. Heavy cranes unloaded the baggage from the holds. Repatriates were allowed to obtain items from their trunks, once they were stored ashore, and to repack if necessary. The Japanese hand luggage, "very good looking, new, and up to date, from America's best factories," was brought aboard the Teia Maru. Red Cross casks containing fish and soybeans were unloaded from the Teia Maru for transfer to the Gripsholm. They would be distributed to Japanese still held in the United States. Loaded aboard the Teia Maru were 1,600 short tons of humanitarian supplies valued at over US$1.3 million. The cargo included 140,000 thirteen pound food parcels, 2,885 cases of medical supplies, 7 million vitamin capsules, 950 cases of comfort articles for men and women, 24 million cigarettes, and clothing. These items were eventually unloaded in Manila for Philippine camps, and in Yokohama for distribution to camps in Japan and elsewhere in the Far East. Food, clothing, and comfort supplies were paid for or supplied by the United States government; medical supplies and tobacco by the American Red Cross, and books and recreational supplies by the YMCA. Religious materials came from the National Catholic Welfare Conference. While Americans and Canadians enjoyed their first Western meal in many months, the Japanese angled over the side of their ship for tiny fish, which they cut up and mixed with rice. Japanese youngsters from the stern of the Gripsholm began talking to children on the bow of the Teia Maru to compare notes on the food on board. While the Allied repatriates wandered around, without purpose, the Japanese engaged in mass calisthenics on deck. A Japanese flag was unfurled from high on the bridge of the Teia Maru, which stimulated a roar of hearty cheering from the Japanese; they also sang Aikoku Kosim Koyoke and Oshansa Sea. Then, a small group of Americans on the Gripsholm, along with the crew, sang God Bless America. The repatriates had not heard it before. Allied repatriates signed promissory notes for the cost of the passage; US $325.00. On Tuesday, 19 October, the exchange of repatriates began at 8:00AM. Allied repatriates, slim and dressed in ill fitting clothes, but joking and wisecracking, left from the bow and entered the Gripsholm via the stern gangway. At the same time, the Japanese, well fed, dressed in the latest American fashions, and carrying new luggage, quietly left from the bow, moved out some distance from the Allied line, and entered the stern of the Teia Maru. A line of boxcars screened the two lines from each other. The entire exchange took ninety one minutes. Many felt an immense sense of relief upon setting foot on the Gripsholm. Chocolate bars were passed out, and many went through the line two or three times. As an 18,353 ton transatlantic liner, the ship had cabin accommodations for all. Internees were impressed with the immaculate cleanliness and order on the ship, in contrast with the neglect and disorder on the Teia Maru. Five tables, stretching thirty feet, were covered with snow white tablecloths and loaded with a buffet lunch of meats, pickles, salads, breads, cheese, juices, pies, cakes, and candies. The repatriates crowded the deck just to get a glimpse of the food, making life difficult for the waiters, who threaded their way through the throngs. Whole hams, turkeys, and cheeses made their appearances, and with each new dish's arrival, cheers would erupt. A buffet lunch was served on the promenade deck. They first brought in salads, plates of celery, olives and lettuce; food we had not eaten in two years; meats, fruits, and then when the stewards came along bearing large trays of big American turkeys, every man, woman, and child gave a scream that could be heard from one end of the ship to the other - this was just too much for us after two years of being browbeaten, and rotten food, with not a great deal of hope of living to see better. At 8:00AM on Friday, 22 October, the Gripsholm departed for New York. After the first two weeks on the ship the health of many began to improve. Two repatriate dentists, Drs. Boots and Klasson, set up free dental clinic on board, using the few pieces of dental equipment they were able to smuggle out of camp. Library and clinic hours were established, and daily concerts and lectures held. Movies were frequently shown, including Yankee Doodle Dandy. Current issues of magazines were available. The acronym filled language of wartime puzzled many on the ship, and they struggled to make meaning of WAC, WAVE, ack ack, and jeep. Mail, the first some had received in two years, had been brought on board at Goa. It brought tears and smiles, as repatriates caught up on family celebrations, and learned of losses suffered. One passenger noted that classes of society, which had disappeared in camp, began to reappear. The Gripsholm stopped in Port Elizabeth, South Africa, where many residents opened their homes to the repatriates, and Rio de Janeiro, where many took whirlwind tours and several drunken passengers tried to jump ship. The journey turned northward to New York, where on 1 December 1943, on a cold, damp, day filled with drizzle, the skyscrapers of Manhattan rose through the fog as the Gripsholm entered New York harbor. The ship docked at pier F, on the west side of the Hudson River, in Jersey City. One of the largest gatherings of newspaper, radio, and newsreel representatives and reporters awaited the repatriates. Though many passengers were joyous at their safe arrival, there was some concern as well, "lest some careless remark be carried back to their former jailers" and have ramifications for the internees still being held. First off the ship was Myra Scovel, a Weihsien internee. She was in labor, and delivered a daughter just short of the hospital delivery table. The 248 Canadians on board were placed on a special sealed train for the journey to Montreal, where, like the Americans now in their own homeland, they scattered to their far flung homes and families. You can read more about the repatriation of Britons, Americans, Canadians, and other other Allied citizens from the Far East, including descriptions of the Japanese ships and their voyages, in Captives of Empire: The Japanese Internment of Allied Civilians in China, 1941-1945, by Greg Leck, published by Shandy Press,www.captives-of-empire.com photo: Gripsholm in New York harbor, September 1943 photo: Dock workers load Red Cross supplies onto the Gripsholm, New York harbor, September 1943. photo: The Gripsholm, painted in her repatriation colors, approaches New York, December 1, 1943.

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