Quoted:
I wonder if they commemmorate "Pearl Harbor Day" or "Bataan Death March Day" or "Nanjing Massacre Day" or "Chinese And Korean Sex Slaves For Jap Troops Day" or "Torture of Tens Of Thousands of Allied Prisoners Day" or "Thousands of Biological Experiments on Chinese Prisoners Day" [pissed]
[b]Bataan Death March:[/b]
[url]http://ghostofbataan.com/image2/deathmarch.jpg[/url]
[url]http://www.terracom.net/~vfwpost/bataandb2.jpg[/url]
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I can't help but not take the statements decrying the Hiroshima bombing very seriously.
My grandfather, and Indian, after getting married was posted to Malaya to set up the first insurance company there. Malaya was a British colony then. Then the Japanese invaded, en masse and on bicycles no less, and kicked Brit asses big time.
Everything was locked down, and my grandparents home was used to house Japanese soldiers. My grandfather managed to get his wife on a boat to India where she was able to return to her parents home.
My grandfather though was taken on a great long walk to Burma, laying a railway along the way. He eventually met up with the Bataan group. For six years he walked around South East Asia, I'm guessing in chains. I can't imagine the countless friends he must have made along the way, and the countless friends he'd have had to see die along the way.
He eventually managed to escape, and no surprise, walked all the way back to Malaya. The bomb dropped, the Japs left, the Brits returned, and he gained access to telecommunications facilities. My grandmother in that six years had no idea whether he was dead or alive. He brought her back from India, and they returned to their house.
They then started having children, their only daughter being sent to UPenn after she was done with school. That daughter is my mom.
In my grandparents house, they had this fairly large solid teak wood dining table. This was used by the occupying soldiers as a multipurpose workbench, to cook and eat and torture/kill Malayans and clean their weapons and to write. Marks on the table and the equipment left there attested to that sort of thing. My grandparents had it refinished when they returned to the house and had used it as their dining table. After my grandfathers death, my mom had it sent to our home where we refinished it, and I grew up eating playing and doing my homework on that table.
I now have that table, and use it as my dining table. It's as if this entire story is in the grain of the teak.
How did I even get started on this? Ah well.