Last Letters from Attu The True Story of Etta Jones, Alaska Pioneer and Japanese POW
Produktdetaljer
Biografisk notat
At the conclusion of her own thirty-four year teaching career, Mary Breu set out to write the story of her great-aunt, Etta Jones. After doing extensive research, Mary used Etta's letters, old photographs, Etta's unpublished manuscript written after her captivity, and her research to write this book. She holds a bachelor's and master's degrees. She lives with her husband Jerry in South Carolina. Ray Hudson lived and worked as a teacher in the Aleutian Islands from 1964 to 1992. He is an author, poet, and woodblock print artist who has exhibited in museums.“Etta Jones was a nurse and teacher in the Alaska Bush. She was living on Attu when Japanese took the island in World War II and, with the rest of the civilian population, incarcerated in Japan for the rest of the war. Her letters and photographs have been used by her grand-niece, Mary Breu for this book.”
Anchorage Daily News
"Etta Jones was truly an ordinary woman who did some extraordinary things. And that, in this adventurer’s book, is what makes a hero."
Fairbanks Daily News Miner
"Etta Jones is a true American hero... If this were a work of fiction it would have ended just like it does. Good triumphs over evil. Good works are rewarded. In today’s turbulent times, Last Letters from Attu is just what the doctor ordered."
Anchorage Press
"This remarkable book, while adding to our understanding of World War II in Alaska, is much more. It is the story of an important American, a woman of courage and resolve, an inextinguishable spirit."
Ray Hudson (Afterword)
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.
Preface 9
To Alaska 13
Tanana: 1922-1923 27
Tanana: 1923-1930 37
Tanana, Tatitlek, and Old Harbor: 1928-1932 53
From 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 307
About the Author 317
About the Afterword Writer 319
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.