6/7/2007:
Yesterday we discussed the Bataan Death March. Thomas Hammel, whose experiences we shared yesterday, may have made it through the march, but he now faced life in a Japanese prisoner camp. This day in 1942, Hammel was officially done marching, but his three years as a prisoner of war were just beginning.
Life at the camp was little different from the march. Hard work, beatings, bad water and lack of food still marked the conditions. For Hammel, however, constant illness kept him from work and his subordination soon put him in solitary confinement. This came about one day when Hammel finally struck back after being beaten. He was placed in a cell between two guardhouses to await his fate. “I knew I was in trouble,” said Hammel. “The only way I could survive was by being insane, for there was death penalty for hitting a guard. For three nights, I kept the guard awake doing Indian cries I had learned at the Fort Berthold Reservation back home.”
His act of insanity must have been effective, because Hammel remained alive and in the guardhouse for the remainder of his internment. He rarely was allowed out with the other prisoners and his only contact was with the guards. Hammel visited with some and helped fix or make things for others. The guards seemed amused by Hammel’s craftsmanship, especially when he told them he was making a new gambling machine. “They would just look at it and grin,” said Hammel. At times like these, he was often friendly with the guards, but at other times, he mocked them. Once, he asked to join the Japanese army if he was sent to the front lines. “I was turned down,” said Hammel. “I don’t think they trusted me.”
Hammel especially liked to antagonize one guard he called Slippery, because he always stole Hammel’s food. Hammel pretended to eat tin cans just to “drive him real wild,” and often taunted him. One night, Slippery and the other guards had made American doughnuts, which Slippery said were “No damn good!” When Hammel asked why, Slippery said it was because they had holes in them. Hammel commented the Americans would make the same holes in the Japanese. Slippery and another guard beat him for his comment, but when Slippery came back to beat him again, Hammel fought back. The two fought for six minutes before Slippery left the cell. This must have earned him some respect, however, because Slippery came back later with tea and said they would be friends from now on. Slippery even quit stealing his food.
This strange relationship with the guards helped Hammel learn some Japanese. He learned the guards called him Ace O Man, like the American aces of World War I, and at night, he listened to the guards tell each other their fears as planes flew over and guns moved on to the coast for defense. They were signs that the Americans were coming.
Japan surrendered on August 14, 1945, partly because of the devastation caused by the nuclear bombs. Few men today would say this, but for Hammel who had marched to hell and back, the atomic bomb was welcomed. “The ‘A’ bomb ended the war. A blessing to all mankind!” said Hammel. He returned home that September, but remained in the Army for nine more years before returning to North Dakota.
By Tessa Sandstrom
Source:
Fifty Years in the Saddle Book Committee. “Thomas M. Hammel: 215 Ne Yaka Ju 90,” Fifty Years in the Saddle: Looking Back Down the Trail, Vol. 4. Bismarck and Dickinson, 1991: 137-141.