Our Post Master was a survivor. He was missing fingers on both hands. The japanese had put his hands on tree stumps and cut each finger off with hatchets, one at a time.
Stories like that make me really hate the Japanese.
many from that theater talked little about what they endured.
my Scoutmaster for my years in Scouts in 60-65 was a B-29 bombadier who was shot down and became a late POW the day of Hiroshima — in fact almost beheaded on the outskirts of that city.
I didn’t find all this out until I was in my twenties and talked to him one day.
That’s ironic. The Post Master in the small north Texas town I grew up in was in this infamous march. He came to our school and talked about it.