Tuesday, September 10, 2024

February 7, 1990 - Biak - Indonesia -Journal

I woke up this morning to the muzzein calling out the morning prayer. He has a good voice. Strange for Islam to have conquered the world. The animists resisted until falling for Jesus. They must have like the nailed god.

I sat on the teakwood veranda offering a fantastic view of Cenderawasih Bay, reading standard Bahasa Indonesian phrases. Joseph Conrad would have felt at home on this patio and I imagined him having passed through this way back in the 19th Century. My Uncle David had fought here in the Battle of the Sump. His destroyer had shelled the Japanese fortifications on the shore. This hotel showed no scars of that combat.

Slightly after dawn I sat out on the veranda and someone knocked on the door. I answered it. A young waiter brought in a tray loaded with my breakfast. I sat on the veranda and he pulled off the white cotton serving cloth to reveal fried eggs, bacon, and sliced bread.

“Terima Kasih.” That was ‘thank you’ in Bahasa Indonesian.

I tasted the bread. It was surprisingly better than Wonder Bread and I ate every slice thinking that this had to be the last slice bread in town, however the following morning the waiter returned with a tray of soft white bread. Each slice was a uniform 12 mm thick.

Sliced bread was not an anomaly on Biak.

Later

After breakfast I walked to the Japanese caves. in 1944 5 to 6000 imperial soldiers refused to surrender to the Allied soldiers, who were tired of the incessant raids and sniping. They poured aviation fuel into the caves and threw in a match burning them all. I descended down stairs into the cave and stood on the muddy floor looking up at holds to the surface and imagine the stubbornness of these defeated but unbound soldiers. Ammo gone, food gone, hope gone. They stood shoulder shoulder praying for the eternal wellness for Emperor Hirohito, thousands of miles awqy in Tokyo. The Americans showed no mercy and set the cave afire

Emerald vegetation mass covered the once blackened cave and small birds flitteed to holes. Their homes shelter for the lost soul of the fire storm. I climbed back out and saw several veterans who survived the battle of Biak and come to pay their respects to the dead. I was the only one American today. I nodded in respect and thought crazy mother-fuckers.

Biak is only one of the thousand battles of World War II and million 1 million and maybe more died in these islands cut off from help by the US elite and hunted by the Marines. 150,000 died in Papua Neew Guinea. Lost forever good morning

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