As we commemorate VJ Day, this year marking the 80th anniversary of Japan’s surrender and the end of World War II, we asked Elizabeth Goldsmith to recount what it was like to experience VJ Day in China in 1945.

How could I ever forget the sight of American paratroopers floating down towards us out of a deep blue sky?

I was 11 years old and living in China because my parents were Christian missionaries in that vast land. My Father was an experienced surgeon who expressed his dedication to Jesus Christ through his skilled hands, his warm heart and his teaching about the One true God who loves everyone in the world. Together with my four brothers and a sister, I had been at a boarding school for missionary children in N.E. China. Despite the dangers from Japan making huge incursions all along the coastal area of China, my parents continued their sacrificial work 1,000 miles inland.

Then came the shock of the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor in December 1941. Overnight, all foreigners were considered ‘enemies’ by the Japanese forces. They swept into our school, took our Headmaster away for questioning, and announced that we were all prisoners of the Imperial Japanese Army! Forced to move from place to place, we finally landed up crowded into a Civilian Assembly Centre, together with all the foreigners in the Beijing area.

1,400 people from all walks of life were crammed into a compound, which had been built for just 200 Chinese Bible students. We were supplied with just the coarsest of foods, which dwindled as the months and years dragged by. With no new clothes and little school equipment, our teachers struggled to keep up their courage. We went barefoot all summer to save our shoes; then, come Autumn, our feet had grown and we had to squeeze into shoes belonging to someone else! Shortage of water meant that our mattresses crawled with bedbugs. And my childish diary repeated day after day, ‘No bread! No bread!’ Donkey meat was a rare treat! Worst of all hardly any letters arrived from my parents in distant Lanchow.

One of my memories was trying to hang out the washing on bitterly cold winter days. The large sheets were the worst. They flapped in the wind like huge birds and then froze solid, proving almost impossible for a child to lift down. One of my brothers was set to making coal balls out of the meagre coal dust which the Japanese allowed us. He had to mix it by hand with some mud, roll it into balls, and then set them out in rows to dry.

But all our problems faded on that unforgettable day! Looking back, I believe there were many times when God miraculously protected us. Word had come to the American forces that, if forced to surrender, the Japanese guards had been ordered to kill all their prisoners. Also, it was well-known that there were Chinese guerillas hiding in the surrounding hills. Given the opportunity, they might have captured our prison camp and held us for ransom. So, the paratroopers had expected to fight their way to gain control of our Internment Camp. But we prisoners had watched their coming, and a huge crowd rushed towards the main gates, gathering in size as we ran. The Japanese soldiers on guard could have shot at us, but they hesitated. The crowd kept going and ran on, out through the gates to find their liberators. God had kept the guards from shooting at us! Deliriously happy, the crowd found their rescuers and lifted them shoulder high. Triumphantly they bore the seven paratroopers back to the Camp. Once more, the Japanese guards could have shot at us, but God protected us again!

I learned afterwards that, arriving at the gates, the American Major leaped to his feet and demanded to know where the Japanese Commandant could be found. Then, carefully checking both his pistols, with a high sense of drama he strode through the office doors. Whether the Commandant knew that the war was nearly over, I cannot tell. But after a long hesitation, he reached for his samurai sword and laid it on the desk. He had surrendered!

We children were oblivious of this drama. We found ourselves beyond those high walls for the first time. Everyone was shouting and crying and laughing and hugging each other. Hardly able to believe what was happening, the joy and excitement was infectious. I remember that our little gang of kids found a small stream nearby. We jumped into the water, screaming and splashing each other in wild abandon. Food! Freedom! For us the war was over. A few days later, the second atom bomb hastened the Japanese total surrender. We were free at last!

Elizabeth Goldsmith

[This will feature in our September issue of The Three Villages Magazine, which is coming out soon!]