Last Letters from Attu

Mary Breu

Description

Etta Jones was not a World War II soldier or a war time spy. She was a school teacher whose life changed forever on that Sunday morning in June 1942 when the Japanese military invaded Attu Island and Etta became a prisoner of war.

Etta and her sister moved to the Territory of Alaska in 1922. She planned to stay only one year as a vacation, but this 40 something year old nurse from back east met Foster Jones and fell in love. They married and for nearly twenty years they lived, worked and taught in remote Athabascan, Alutiiq, Yup’ik and Aleut villages where they were the only outsiders. Their last assignment was Attu.

After the invasion, Etta became a prisoner of war and spent 39 months in Japanese POW sites located in Yokohama and Totsuka. She was the first female Caucasian taken prisoner by a foreign enemy on the North American Continent since the War of 1812, and she was the first American female released by the Japanese at the end of World War II.

Using descriptive letters that she penned herself, her unpublished manuscript, historical documents and personal interviews with key people who were involved with events as they happened, her extraordinary story is told for the first time in this book.

Etta Jones stood on the deck of the ship, staring across the gray water of the Pacific. It was July 14, 1942. Years ago, she had seen that ocean with different eyes. Twenty years earlier, she and her sister Marie had embarked on the adventure of a lifetime, traveling to the Last Frontier. Impetuous Marie soon returned to the East Coast, but Etta fell in love with the untamed spirit of Alaska and a man named Foster Jones.
Etta felt her chest tighten and her breathing quicken as she again became aware of hostile voices prattling in the background. For a moment, she considered paying rapt attention to their conversation. Although she didn’t know their language, she might be able to pick up on something that would tell her where the ship was going.
A curly strand of gray hair worked itself loose from the unkempt bun at the back of her head and began lapping at the side of her face. With her hands folded in front of her, Etta maintained her rigid posture. She didn’t react to the hair that had begun to obscure her view. She never turned her head or acted as if she were aware of the activity behind her.
It didn’t matter where they were going because there would be nothing there for her—nothing but memories of the life she had before that unthinkable day. She feared that day would be the only thing she could think of for the rest of her life. She was too numb to be concerned with whether the rest of her life would last for a few days or a few years, and she couldn’t decide if she cared. The images in her head blurred as the cold mist blew across her face.
Etta was paralyzed by shock and grief, but self-pity was something she didn’t spend time on. She could honestly look back on her life knowing she had lived vigorously, taking nothing for granted. She envisioned that life through the eyes of the relatives to whom she had faithfully composed so many letters over the years. Etta and Foster had made their home in some of the most remote and sparsely populated villages in the world. Yet, her correspondence was the diary of a content woman who always seemed right at home.
Etta didn’t know if she would be allowed to write another letter. She knew her loved ones would worry about what had happened to her, but she couldn’t see herself writing again, no matter what. Letters were about living and loving and being in that place where you knew you were meant to be. For the first time, she felt lost, like she had woken up a million miles from nowhere. How could you write a letter from “nowhere?”
Her mind drifted back to the happiest of those days, but every comforting thought was interrupted by the violence of her last few days. The sounds of the Natives’ screams and the sight of human blood on the snow would haunt her for years to come. Etta was scared. Her world had changed. The whole world had changed.
The ship on which Etta stood was on course for Japan. As the sky grew darker, one of the grimy soldiers used the blunt end of his bayonet to prod her into a stifling cabin below deck. She curled up on the ragged cot that was suspended from the ceiling by two chains like a hammock. She knew she wouldn’t sleep, but if she closed her eyes and concentrated on the motion of the water, she might be able to find rest in the memory of the last time she took a long voyage to an unfamiliar shore.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Preface 9
To Alaska 13
Tip Sheet Updated 10/9/2013
Tanana: 1922-1923 27
Tanana: 1923-1930 37
Tanana, Tatitlek, and Old Harbor: 1928-1932 53
Prom Kodiak to Kipnuk: 1932 70
Kipnuk Culture: 1932 79
Letters from Kipnuk: 1932-1933 91
Kipnuk School: 1932-1934 112
Letters from Kipnuk: 1934-1937 119
Old Harbor: 1937-1941 135
Attu: 1941-1942 148
Invasion: 1942 167
The Australians: January-July 1942 181
Bund Hotel, Yokohama: July 1942 193
Yokohama Yacht Club: 1942-1943 203
Yokohama Yacht Club: 1943-1944 213
Totsuka: 1944-1945 227
Rescue: August 31, 1945 245
Return to the United States: September 1945 255
Home: 1945-1965 266
Afterword by Ray Hudson 279
Acknowledgements 281
Notes 283
Bibliography 305
Index

Sujets

• Personal Memoirs
• HISTORY
• Histoire
• Segunda Guerra Mundial
• Biography
• History of Alaska
• Attu Island
• General officer
• Military
• World War II
• General
• Attu
• United States
• Etta Jones
• Seconde Guerre mondiale

Informations

• Publié par: Turner Publishing Company
• Date de parution: 05 novembre 2009
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9780882408521
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 3 Mo

Extrait

LAST LETTERS from ATTU

The True Story of Etta Jones,
Alaska Pioneer and Japanese P.O.W.

Mary Breu
Text and photos 2009 by Mary Breu

All photos are by Etta Jones and in the author s collection, except where noted.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission from the publisher.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data available upon request
ISBN 978-0-88240-810-1 (pbk.)
ISBN 978-0-88240-851-4, 978-08-88240-852-1 (e-book)
ISBN 978-0-88240-981-8 (hardbound)
Alaska Northwest Books
An imprint of

P.O. Box 56118 Portland, OR 97238-6118 [phone]
www.graphicartsbooks.com

Editor: Ellen Wheat
Interior Designer: Elizabeth Watson
Cover Design: Vicki Knapton, Elizabeth Watson
Front cover images. Top: The Montevideo Maru, 1942; Bottom: Etta Jones and Attu Natives, 1942.
Frontispiece. Etta Eugenie Schureman, high-school graduation photo, Vineland, New Jersey, 1898.
In memory of my great-aunt and great-uncle ,
Etta and Foster Jones ,
and all the victims of the Attu invasion

Etta and Foster on their dogsled, departing on their honeymoon, April 1, 1923.
Contents

Preface
1. To Alaska
2. Tanana: 1922-1923
3. Tanana: 1923-1930
4. Tanana, Tatitlek, and Old Harbor: 1928-1932
5. From Kodiak to Kipnuk: 1932
6. Kipnuk Culture: 1932
7. Letters from Kipnuk: 1932-1933
8. Kipnuk School: 1932-1934
9. Letters from Kipnuk: 1934-1937
10. Old Harbor: 1937-1941
11. Attu: 1941-1942
12. Invasion: 1942
13. The Australians: January-July 1942
14. Bund Hotel, Yokohama: July 1942
15. Yokohama Yacht Club: 1942-1943
16. Yokohama Yacht Club: 1943-1944
17. Totsuka: 1944-1945
18. Rescue: August 31, 1945
19. Return to the United States: September 1945
20. Home: 1945-1965

Afterword by Ray Hudson
Acknowledgments
Notes
Bibliography
Index
About the Author
About the Afterword Writer

Etta Jones and her great-niece, author Mary Breu, Bradenton, Florida, December 1952.
Preface

E tta Jones was my favorite great-aunt. For my first twenty years and her last twenty, I knew her as a compassionate, generous, genteel woman. She was short in stature, and had pure white hair and jet-black eyebrows. I always knew she had an interesting past because bits and pieces were mentioned over the years. Relatives had kept all of Etta s letters, photos, documents, and artifacts, and this private treasure was eventually handed down to me. In 2002, thirty-seven years after her death and at the end of my teaching career, I decided to put her story together to share with family members. While going through Etta s extraordinary collection, I realized that her story deserved a much wider audience, so I began to write this book.
To start, I wanted to confirm that events she wrote about in her letters were accurate in her telling, so I checked details on the Internet. Everything I read that addressed her story contradicted what Etta had written and what I knew about her. And the more research I did, the more discrepancies accumulated. I decided that I needed to do in-depth research on documents and texts located in archives in Alaska, so in 2003, I obtained a grant from the Alaska Humanities Forum to travel there. After that, I made four more trips at my own expense.
My search took me to the National Archives, the Aleutian/Pribilof Islands Association, the Loussac Library, and the University of Alaska, all in Anchorage. I uncovered more material at the Elmer E. Rasmuson Library, University of Alaska Fairbanks. I pored over Congressional records, Bureau of Indian Affairs records, archival documents, newspapers, and Australian and American texts. I interviewed and corresponded with key people who were involved, directly or indirectly, with Etta s story.
Etta was a prolific letter writer. Her engaging writing places the reader alongside Etta and her gold-prospector husband, Foster, when they lived, worked, and taught in remote Native communities-Athabascan, Yup ik, Alutiiq, and Aleut-in Alaska in the 1920s, 30s, and 40s. Etta s and Foster s backgrounds were as diverse as the landscape of the Northland, but they were both conscientious and diligent workers. Hardship became part of their chosen way of life, and they embraced it. Their goal was not to change Native cultures; rather, as conveyed in her letters and other documents, it was to teach their students reading, math, and some domestic skills.
Etta s language vernacular differed somewhat from today s usage; for example, she used the word Japs because it was a commonly used term in the United States during World War II. I have edited her letters for clarity and relevance. Her letter writing depended on the random delivery of mail in remote Alaska villages, so sometimes she added postscripts after she had signed off and was waiting for the mail to arrive. Or, when the mailman arrived unexpectedly, she would hastily compose brief letters to be mailed immediately.
Etta also wrote a fascinating sixty-four-page manuscript in 1945 that was never published. It is full of facts and impressions that give the reader special insights into life in territorial Alaska. I have included excerpts from Etta s manuscript throughout this book s narrative. Likewise, in 1967, Foster s prospecting partner and friend Frank Lundin wrote an unpublished manuscript, in which he described their experiences during Alaska s gold rushes in the early 1900s. Excerpts from Lundin s manuscript are also woven into the narrative.
The photos in the book are primarily from Etta s collection. For the captions, I ve used the information Etta wrote on the back of the photos. If there was no inscription, I gathered information from her letters and unpublished manuscript. Regarding the photos of Attu, I ve used several of Etta s pictures of the Aleut Natives to document these disappearing people.
I have created a Web site to accompany this book, where the reader may find further material on Etta s story, and a schedule of author appearances and book signings: www.lastlettersfromattu.com .
This book portrays events as they happened to Etta and Foster Jones. Qualities we often hear about, such as resolve and courage, are qualities that defined Etta Schureman Jones. She was a pioneer in Alaska Native villages. She was a remarkable woman who survived profound adversity. She played a significant role in a pivotal but less-known event in America s history.

Etta Schureman, age 4, Ellen (Nan) Schureman (Etta s sister, and the author s maternal grandmother), age 6, Vineland, New Jersey, 1883.
1
To Alaska

E tta Jones stood on the deck of the ship, staring across the gray water of the Pacific. It was July 14, 1942. Years ago, she had seen that ocean with different eyes. Twenty years earlier, she and her sister Marie had embarked on the adventure of a lifetime, traveling to the Last Frontier. Impetuous Marie soon returned to the East Coast, but Etta fell in love with the untamed spirit of Alaska and a man named Foster Jones.
Etta felt her chest tighten and her breathing quicken as she again became aware of hostile voices prattling in the background. For a moment, she considered paying rapt attention to their conversation. Although she didn t know their language, she might be able to pick up on something that would tell her where the ship was going.
A curly strand of gray hair worked itself loose from the unkempt bun at the back of her head and began lapping at the side of her face. With her hands folded in front of her, Etta maintained her rigid posture. She didn t react to the hair that had begun to obscure her view. She never turned her head or acted as if she were aware of the activity behind her.
It didn t matter where they were going because there would be nothing there for her-nothing but memories of the life she had before that unthinkable day. She feared that day would be the only thing she could think of for the rest of her life. She was too numb to be concerned with whether the rest of her life would last for a few days or a few years, and she couldn t decide if she cared. The images in her head blurred as the cold mist blew across her face.
Etta was paralyzed by shock and grief, but self-pity was something she didn t spend time on. She could honestly look back on her life knowing she had lived vigorously, taking nothing for granted. She envisioned that life through the eyes of the relatives to whom she had faithfully composed so many letters over the years. Etta and Foster had made their home in some of the most remote and sparsely populated villages in the world. Yet, her correspondence was the diary of a content woman who always seemed right at home.
Etta didn t know if she would be allowed to write another letter. She knew her loved ones would worry about what had happened to her, but she couldn t see herself writing again, no matter what. Letters were about living and loving and being in that place where you knew you were meant to be. For the first time, she felt lost, like she had woken up a million miles from nowhere. How could you write a letter from nowhere?
Her mind drifted back to the happiest of those days, but every comforting thought was interrupted by the violence of her last few days. The sounds of the Natives screams and the sight of human blood on the snow would haunt her for years to come. Etta was scared. Her world had changed. The whole world had