Application was made for return of wife and son in February of 1941. Letter written by Earl C. Dudley to the Commander in Chief of the United States Asiatic Fleet, and no action was taken on this application, although practically all naval families were evacuated at that time.

Prior to December 7, 1941, preventive measures were taken for the protection of Mrs. Dudley and son by sending them from Cavite to Baguio, Luzon, for their protection, as it was supposedly out of area of military objectives.

December 8, 1941, an attack was made in the form of an air attack. Mrs. Dudley sustained the loss of the right limb and is, or course, seriously and permanently injured. Mrs. Dudley was injured throughout the entire body, especially in the limbs and eyes, physically, and sustained great and permanent shock. At the same time and in the same attack, Earl C. Dudley, Jr., a child of 11 months, sustained injury by shrapnel through the left leg, causing permanent and serious injury. Earl C. Dudley, Jr., has been attended by physicians constantly and is wearing a brace with the prognosis that an operation will be performed when he has reached the age of approximately 15 years, to see if the injury can be remedied. The small child, of course, in confined in his activities at all times because of this injury.

The three persons mentioned above were all taken prisoners. Mrs. Dudley and son on December 29, 1941, were hospitalized because of injuries sustained on December 8. Mrs. Dudley's leg was amputated immediately on the 8th and she, of course, at the time-21 days afterwas advised that the hospital was under Japanese control and supervision. Mrs. Dudley remained at this hospital for 1 month longer and, in her serious condition, was moved to the Baguio internment camp. The infant son was immediately separated from his mother, and, aside from his physical injuries, was suffering from bacillary dysentery. This separation continued until February 6, when Earl C. Dudley, Jr., was brought to the camp.

On January 2, 1942, Earl C. Dudley, Sr., was taken prisoner and confined in Manila and was moved to Santo Tomas, where he remained a prisoner until February 23, 1945. During the time of this confinement, Earl C. Dudley, Sr., and family were moved from Santo Tomas to Los Banos internment camp in April of 1944 where he remained from April of 1944 to February 23, 1945, the date of liberation.

Mrs. Dudley was moved by the Japanese from Baguio internment to Santo Tomas internment camp on June 17, 1942. During this entire time, Mrs. Dudley and her son were attended by physicians and surgeons who did the best they could under very trying circumstances, and had no facilities which are afforded to usual and natural occasions.

The undersigned feel that there is no need to submit any evidence as to the privations, mental pain, and suffering experienced during this period. The physical pain and suffering for Mrs. Dudley is, in her opinion, a negligible factor in comparison to her mental pain and suffering pertaining to the infant child. This, of course, was experienced by Earl C. Dudley, Sr., in that it was physically impossible to alleviate the conditions which existed so far as his wife

and child were concerned. There was the privation of food which was serious for an able-bodied person, but was doubly serious for his injured wife and son.

As a result of the injuries sustained, the Dudley family has had medical attention from private physicians, and this is especially true of the necessity for specialized opinion pertaining to the injury_sustained by Earl C. Dudley, Jr. There is a constant checking and rechecking of this injury to ascertain if it is possible to relieve the permanency of the injury. His leg is not growing consistent with the rest of his body, which has necessitated the most expert opinion in the eastern seaboard, along with the medical treatment and attention for Mrs. Dudley.

Regarding personal property loss, the Dudleys, of course, lost all possessions which they had, since Cavite was home. All possessions in their home were lost, which would be an approximate figure of $3,500.

Prior to December of 1941 the situation in Cavite was critical so far as civilians were concerned. No official information was received as to the seriousness of the situation and, of course, it was impossible for a civilian to properly judge the seriousness of the situation.

A request was made, and because of the fact that no action was taken the situation was not believed to be as serious as it afterward developed. These writers do not believe that it is necessary to go into detail describing the horror of the everyday life of internment. This is a critical situation for able-bodied persons, but under the conditions existing in this case, it was a thousand times more so. If there is further information or if the writers can be of any further assistance, please advise.

The CHAIRMAN. Father Anthony V. Keane?

Father, will you give your name in full, and your location?

STATEMENT OF REV. ANTHONY VINCENT KEANE, S. J., CANISIUS HIGH SCHOOL, BUFFALO, N. Y.

Reverend KEANE. Honorable Chairman Wolverton and members of this committee, my name is Anthony Vincent Keane, S. J., Canisius High School, 651 Washington Street, Buffalo, N. Y. Status, professor; age, 44.

Imprisoned in Fort Santiago by Japanese military police from August 17, 1943, to December 7, 1943, because I disposed of five boxes of bayonets left on our property by Americans retreating to Bataan in December 1941. I threw the bayonets in the Pasig River in Manila. After my release from Fort Santiago, I was brought to Santo Tomas internment camp and languished there until February 3, 1945, when the American First Division Cavalry, under General Chase, liberated

us.

When the Japanese confined me to Fort Santiago, August 3, 1943, I weighed 160 pounds. When I was released 5 months later, I weighed 110 pounds. From this statement, I can say it should not be difficult to realize what was endured in this living hell. Our meals consisted of three saucers of rice a day. We averaged about 30, sometimes 35, to a cell. Approximately, the cells were 20 feet wide and 35 feet long. So crowded were we in these cells that at night when sleeping on the bare floor when one of us wished to turn over almost all of us would

have to turn in order to not be breathing in one another's face. From 7 in the morning until 7 at night, with the solitary exceptions of mealtime, we faced the wall in the Japanese squat fashion and talked in whispers at the risk of a severe beating by the inhuman guards. The torture inflicted on fellow prisoners was so cruel and of such a nature I prefer to say nothing about it.

In each cell there was a water faucet and then an opening in the wooden floor of the cell, wherein was placed a removable tin pan. This was our toilet. Being an American, it was my duty to empty these pans twice daily. They had to be removed and emptied to a place about 200 yards distance from where they were taken. There were 16 cells. While we were employed in this work the Japanese would stand by and give us a ribald going over because we were Americans. The Japanese called us banjo boys.

One of our men, Father Kennally, while employed in this work slipped and broke his arm and cut himself badly. Father Kennally fainted in my arms and I brought him to a Japanese sergeant and insisted that Father Kennally receive treatment. I was so insistent the Japanese reluctantly consented to my request. The Japanese doctor examined Father Kennally's arm, stopped the blood, then bandaged it. The bandage was never changed after that. Fortunately about 8 days after this accident, we were released to Santo Tomas. The first thing I did with Father Kennally when we arrived in the camp was to make a reservation for him in the camp hospital.

A day after our arrival in Santo Tomas the doctor told me that the X-ray of Father Kennally's arm revealed that there was a bad fracture. About 10 days later I anointed Father Kennally and fought with the Japanese Commandant Kuroda to send Father Kennally to an outside hospital where he would receive more and better attention. The doctors in the Santo Tomas camp were good but at that time they had no facilities to speak of. Kuroda acceded to my wishes and Father Kennally was hospitalized for 3 months before he returned to camp. I give this as an illustration of what cruelties we were put to.

When I entered Santo Tomas internment camp, the internees were still permitted to receive packages of food from their friends in the city, who were not interned. The Filipinos were extraordinarily good to us in this matter and gave and gave generously, never counting the cost, nor fearing whether they would fall lower in the graces of their conquerers, who had expressly stated on various occasions that any acts of kindness of sympathy of this nature would be considered as acts disloyal to the Japanese High Imperial Army. For the conduct of the Filipino people during these trying times, I cannot speak too highly. Of course, there were renegades among the Filipinos. But these were by far the minority.

Under my care at the Ateneo de Manila prior to my imprisonment at Fort Santiago, we took in a number of the American soldiers who escaped from the death march. We first gave these boys, who, like Nicodemus, were brought to us at night by the Filipinos, medical attention. Most of them had dysentery or malaria. After staying with us a few weeks their impaired health was improved. Then we would contact the guerrillas and arrange for their transportation to the hills. In all this we supplied the clothes, money and food. We did all this because we felt these boys exposed their lives in Bataan

in our behalf and that nothing was too good for them. And we did all this knowing full well what the penalty would be should the Japanese ever catch up with us. Fortunately, they never did. In my own individual case I recall giving these boys almost all I had, save the very clothes I was wearing and one change. The American boys were deeply appreciative for any little thing we did for them. They appeared a very disgruntled lot and felt that they were left unceremoniously out on the well-known limb by America.

Came February 3, 1945, and our liberation. The Japanese, though we fought them off for 22 years, had finally and militarily evicted us from our magnificent college on July 2, 1943. After the Americans had entered the north side of the city on the night of February 3, 1945, and the days that intervened before our American soldiers annihilated all the Japanese in the section of the city where our college was, the Japanese razed to the ground our beautiful college. It was a total and complete loss. In the destruction of the college all my personal belongings were destroyed or looted. I gave over $300 in silver money to a trustworthy Filipino to safeguard for us and this, too, was lost.

When the American Army came into the city, Major Shanahan, who accompanied the forces, asked would I be willing to work with one of the emergency divisions of the forces known as Pecau. I immediately enlisted and was told by the major in charge that I would receive a salary. I answered that in these circumstances I had no interest whatsoever in a salary so long as I could be of some assistance to the forces and the bleeding Filipinos. After a very brief time with this organization, Father Hurley, my superior, met General MacArthur for a 2-hour conference in which it was approved by the General that we should go ahead on our work in the newly formed organization known as the Catholic Welfare Organization. Through this organization, in splendid cooperation with the Ameri can armed forces, we set up an establishment by means of which we were able to alleviate partially the emergency needs of almost 30,000 of the Filipino people. It was during this work and due to my rundown condition that an infection began in my leg which demanded a long rest.

Since I was of no value to the organization resting, I left Manila in September 1945, on the troopship S. S. Eberle. A day after the ship left Leyte, I was confined to the ship's hospital with my infected leg and remained in the ship's hospital until our arrival at Tacoma in October. Since my return I have been hospitalized on one occasion for 6 days because of another infection in the same leg. I am told that this condition may continue for a period of 2 or 3 years. At the present moment it is bothering me. Doctors claim it is due to the malnutrition experienced in prison and camp.

Since my return to the United States, the Society of Jesus, of which I am a member, very graciously gave me all the time I felt I required to recuperate from the effects of an ordeal, that most of us, who went through it, would rather forget than recall. After several months of resting here in the United States and not feeling well enough to return immediately to the work I was engaged in prior to the outbreak of hostilities, I asked my superiors to give me some school work. This, my wish of superiors, was acceded to, after I

had seen a number of doctors who gave me the green signal to go ahead. Since my return to the classroom I have experienced extreme fatigue from the slightest efforts I make. Apart from this and the recurring infection in my leg, I feel I am gradually getting back to normal.

This statement has been drawn up as an account of events in which this House Committee is deeply interested. And since the committee has been set up to pass on the justice of the claims, I have submitted to you a brief survey of my personal experiences. Let us call them experiences, for I do not wish to demean them by reducing them to the status of claims or myself to the pose of plaintiff.

God in His providence, permitted those things to happen and in His mercy spared me to recount them to you. All war is hardship. Consequently this is a narration of an experience which no man in his proper senses would voluntarily choose to undergo. After surviving such an experience, I am grateful to God that I still live and I am looking forward to a chance to work for the rehabilitation of the Philippines.

In one sense we can chalk up the bitter past experiences and look about for ways to start anew the work we were doing in the islands. However, since this committee is interested in seeing that justice be done to those who bore the weight of the injustices of those war years, I submit this account for your information. The entire question under consideration is not one of proving simply that we were deprived of liberty under the Japanese domination. Such deprivation is part of the fabric of war. Here, rather, there is question of deprivation of liberty plus extraordinary hardship, violence, maltreatment, and the resultant impairment of physical vigor.

Those responsible for such suffering, in this case, the Japanese Government, should in all justice make some compensation to those who so suffered. And hence my presence before you.

When the war broke in 1941 I was dean of discipline in the Jesuit College in Manila. There were 2,300 boys there. We closed almost immediately, and we did not open all during the occupation. Shortly after the war started I was made minister administrator of the college. My problem was to get food and clothing and different needs of that type for the community. We had grown considerably. The American Red Cross had come in with us, the refugees from Cavite. After the frightful bombing that took place, the wives, and so on, of the naval workmen there came in and lived with us for about 14 months, a good number. So we had a community of about 400.

It was difficult getting food for that community, extremely difficult, and we had to borrow considerable money in order to make ends meet. But things went on quite well until the Japanese came in and told us that they were going to take the college away from us. This we said we would not tolerate, that we were merely representing Rome and we were proprietors, and not owners of this college, and consequently we had a real fighting superior in Father Hurley.

He fought them off for almost 2 years, until July 2, 1943, when they told us if we did not get out within 24 hours they would put us out physically. So we received orders and we moved out.

In the meantime a number of the American boys who escaped from the death march, American soldiers, had come into the city at