"73rd year anniversary - WWII comes to Kiribati - Arobati's Story "

My father, Tem Bera, was an old man of 71 when the Resident Commissioner came to see us on 7 December 1941. Although I had taken his place as Magistrate, the people of Betio and the British still recognized him as the elder statesman. The war in Europe had been raging for two years, but it had little impact on us. Some goods became harder to obtain and were more expensive, but the demand for coconut oil had increased so we received more money for our copra.
“Hello, old friend,” the Commissioner greeted my father.
“Commissioner! You do my house an honor, come in.”
“I am afraid I am the bearer of bad news.”
“Ah?”
“The Japanese have attacked the American military base at Pearl Harbor. I don’t have all of the details but apparently there has been great damage to the US Fleet.”
“What does this mean for us?” I asked.
“The Japanese are certain to try and occupy the Gilbert and Ellice Islands, the Marshalls and the Carolines. We don’t have the capability to stop them.”
Father frowned. “What is it all about? Why has Japan done this? They will now have the might of America to deal with. Can they match it?”
“They have a powerful war machine. If they have crippled the US Pacific Fleet, they will be able to sweep down through the Pacific Islands with little or no opposition.”
“But why, what good are these islands to them?”
“Power, Tem.” They are hell bent on expanding their empire. They have too many people on their little islands.”
“I can’t see how they will gain much here,” I commented.
“Being here will give them control of this quarter of the Pacific. And of course control over the phosphate mines.”
“Yes, of course. The phosphate. So what do you plan to do?” I asked.
The Commissioner hesitated before answering.
“We will have to leave,” he said quickly. Father shot him a quick glance.
“It is pointless to stay. If the Japanese occupy these islands – and I’m sure they will – they will either intern or shoot us. We may as well get out while we can and live to fight another day.”
I didn’t know what to make of this news. I had read reports of the Great War in Europe and, although appalled at the immense loss of life and property, it didn’t really concern us. It was too far away. Now we were being drawn into it and the British were leaving.
That hurt. At the first hint of invasion by another power, our professed guardians were going to run away.
Most of the Europeans left in February 1942 and for a few months an unreal calm settled over us. Once, Japanese planes flew over and dropped a few bombs, but they exploded harmlessly on the beach and did no damage. It was a signal to us that we had not been forgotten.
The Japanese came in a large armada of ships carrying thousands of troops and Korean slaves as well as heavy equipment. They rounded up all the women, children and old men and took them across the lagoon to Bonriki.
We men were told to stay put. We had no choice in the matter. There was a merciless efficiency about the Japanese officers, and I told the people to do whatever they were instructed.
Betio at that time was full of trees, plants, flowers and crops. The village compounds were neat and the colonial offices were uniformly painted cream with green roofs. I watched in amazement and horror as great machines moved in to clear the entire island of all vegetation and begin construction of the airstrip.
As soon as it was usable, Japanese aircraft thundered in to land and resupply the garrison. It was the first time we had seen an airplane close up and we marveled that such a heavy contraption could climb into the air.
We were put to work digging massive pits and lining them with reinforced concrete. Great 8-inch guns were set in these pits. Tunnels connected these positions as well as the massive reinforced underground storage areas for food, equipment and ammunition. Hundreds of coconut trees were hacked down to help reinforce the trenches.
Then the Japanese began work in the shallow waters around the island. Huge dredges cut deep trenches around the island and they raised barbed wire fences with concrete block barricades on the reef. We could only guess that they were to stop invading forces.
Their headquarters, an enormous block house with 5 foot thick concrete walls, was constructed in the center of the island. Underground passages linked it to other positions.
Discipline was strict and we learned early on in the occupation to do only what was permitted. We tried to keep out of trouble. The Japanese let us work in weekly shifts. Half worked one week, while the other half went to Bonriki to care for their families. We were very frightened of the Japanese for we saw how harshly they punished their own troops. All radios were confiscated, so we got no news of what was happening outside of Betio.
Food was our greatest concern. The island could not support 4,000 troops and 1,000 Korean laborers. They soon consumed all coconuts, and the construction work in the lagoon killed the marine life.
Some of the Japanese were friendly and they often gave us tinned food, but never enough. There was no kerosene so we had to make do with coconut oil as we had in the past before the time of foreigners.
Soon after they arrived, the Japanese confiscated all the poultry and animals. A young man going to spend a week with his family decided to take one of his own fowls back to his wife. He was caught and dealt with harshly.
From: Tarte, D. (1999). Islands of the Frigate Bird. Suva: University of the South Pacific.