Diary+Entry+3+-+August+22,+1942

August 22, 1942

Today an unbelievable incident happened to me. This is absolutely a miracle, a fortune given to me by my family’s ancestors whom I had been praying to. Today, I met my father, Ma Wei Wei, who I had believed was in the middle of the chaos in Shanghai.

Until I was called out to go to the camp to “meet” the Japanese soldiers, it was an ordinary day full of labor for me. Over the past few months, the number of times I was called to go to the camp for the pleasure of Japanese soldiers had increased; I assume this was because as I heard from the Japanese soldiers around, the war between Japan and the United States had officially started, and the Japanese soldiers were pressured and stressed out by the chances of getting killed every time they heard of the wars and battles in other parts of the territories under the Japanese control. Thus, I was not surprised by the call. Instead, I was almost ready for it; after the numerous rapes I had violently refused, I was used to them by now.

On the way to the camp, the Japanese soldier told me that today, I was for a special single Japanese officer. When I heard that, my body tensed up; I had never been for a Japanese officer, and I had heard from other girls, who are in the same conditions as the one I am in, that Japanese officers are violent and frightening compared to the Japanese soldiers of lower levels.

Within a few steps, I reached the entrance to the booth where the Japanese officer was. I was dressed in a especially pretty, elaborate kimono, the traditional Japanese dress, for the officer. Before entering the booth, my heart beat faster and faster as I remembered all the horrible stories related to Japanese officer I had heard of from the other girls.

When I entered a room, a man fully dressed in arms was sitting on the mattress, waiting for me. The man’s face was hard to see in the darkness only lighted by the weak candle. The man who had brought me to the place left, and the officer slowly lifted his head. It was my own father, Ma Wei Wei! I was too astounded to speak for a few minutes, then cried out “爸爸！” running into his arms. We sobbed and sobbed until we realized that we shouldn’t because the Japanese soldiers might think of our sobbing sounds to be weird.

Late at night, when it was completely dark outside, my father and I changed into our Chinese clothes, and carefully went out of the camp. We climbed up the nearby mountain, and created a temporary shelter, which I am writing my letter in right now. I am terribly worried about my mother, Yang Mei, who probably is in absolutely horrible conditions right now. My father and I will look for chances to save my mother and bring her to our shelter. I haven’t heard from my brother, Ma Sheng Xun, but I wish the best of luck to him and just hope that he is safe.