The passenger ship S.S. President Coolidge arrived as scheduled on Nov. 27, 1941. After being notified, I hastily gathered my belongings, secured my bonded trunk from customs and proceeded to the docked ship. At the time, the S. S. President Coolidge was the newest and largest passenger ship in the American President Lines fleet. The ship was scheduled to travel 8,046 nautical miles, taking about a month to sail from Manila to San Francisco via Honolulu. The route was to pass through the Mariana Islands on the way to Honolulu, and then to San Francisco. Some 400 first and second class passengers registered for the Manila to Honolulu leg of the journey, with an addition of 120 more passengers booked from Honolulu to San Francisco. I was surprised to find after boarding the ship, that the passenger manifesto not only included many missionary refugees from Japan, but also 50 Chinese Air Force cadets from mainland China. They had arrived in Manila directly from Chongqing, en route to fighter-pilot training in the United States. I had two cabin mates: One was a Pakistani Moslem militant and the other a Chinese named L.S. Kwok, an heir to the family that owned the large Wing On Department Store in Shanghai. During the trip I became close friends with Kwok, even though he was several years older. The Pakistani was unapproachable and spent most of his time studying his Koran and praying. Being a vegetarian, he usually ate most of his meals by himself in our cabin. After leaving Manila, we were joined by a U.S. Navy cruiser, and instead of heading east toward the Mariana Islands, we headed south. After two puzzling days we were advised that the course had been changed and that we would be making a southern loop, then head eastward through the straits between Australia and New Guinea. Over several evenings, the whole ship was blacked out. These unexpected changes stirred considerable speculation and panic among the passengers. We all wondered what was going on, but when we asked the crew, they feigned ignorance. It all became clear on Dec. 7, 1941, when the ship’s loudspeakers announced that the Japanese had attacked Pearl Harbor, resulting in many casualties, and that President Roosevelt had declared war on Japan. The ship’s evasive action was to ensure the safety of all aboard. Some passengers with shortwave radios were surprised to hear that our ship had been sunk by the Japanese Navy. We were advised that the false report was issued to avoid possible attack from any enemy submarines that might be lurking in our vicinity. We were only several days away from Honolulu and very near the attacking Japanese fleet. What we learned later was that the U.S. Navy had been forewarned about the Japanese plans to attack the Mariana Islands just as we were scheduled to pass through, and they advised our captain to change course. I was worried that the false news of our ship being sunk might get to my mother because, before we sailed, I had dispatched a letter to her, saying that I had booked passage on the S.S. President Coolidge and was on my way to the U.S. The next day we encountered a ship on the horizon proceeding toward us. Many of the passengers panicked, and when the “Abandon Ship!” alarm was sounded, everyone started counting their remaining minutes. We put on our lifejackets and proceeded to the lifeboats for evacuation. While the evacuation was in progress, our cruiser escort sent out two seaplanes to investigate. They ascertained that the ship in question was a foreign freighter seeking to join our cruiser’s protective umbrella. After the “All-Clear” signal, we returned to our cabins with a great sigh of relief. Our ship spent the next 10 days on a zigzag holding course near Samoa, while waiting for the signal to approach Hawaii. We finally docked in Honolulu on Dec.17th, 10 days after the Japanese attack. We were not allowed to visit the devastation at Pearl Harbor but were permitted ashore to visit friends or relatives. Kwok was kind enough to show me around with his friends. Little damage was evident downtown except for some shattered windows from flying debris. In Honolulu, the previously booked passengers boarded the ship as well as many wounded military personnel evacuated from the Pearl Harbor attack. A major controversy arose because the Chinese Air Force cadets were asked to give up their second class accommodations to the wounded, and move to third class. After protests from the Chinese consulate, a compromise was reached by billeting the cadets in the Grand Ballroom. I was incensed, because I felt that some of the Americans should have volunteered their rooms for their own wounded countrymen. On Dec. 19th, two destroyers joined our cruiser escort as we left Honolulu. The rest of the trip was uneventful – until Christmas Eve. Enemy submarines had been detected five miles from the ship, and I wrote the following in my diary: “Everybody was told to carry life preservers with them. It’s going to be dangerous tonight! Planes from the cruiser have flown around several times, trying to spot the enemy submarines. We were warned to sleep with our clothes on, just in case we are attacked. The destroyers must be dropping several depth charges, because we can hear them exploding in the distance. The missionaries are conducting all-night prayer vigils to pray for our safe passage. The Pakistani plans to stay up all night praying from his Koran. Kwok and I are exhausted and we plan to sleep through the crisis. If we die, we die. God will determine our fate.” I fell into a dead sleep that lasted until dawn. When I woke up on Christmas morning, I received the best Christmas gift possible.During the night, the S.S. President Coolidge had arrived safely in San Francisco and docked at the wharf.
|