On March 12, 1943, he called a meeting and relayed the news everyone had dreaded. All foreign nationals—British, Americans, Dutch, and Belgians—would be interned four hundred miles away at Weihsien, in the Shantung Province, which had, at one time, been an American Presbyterian mission. The location was isolated, yes, but those interned there would experience “minimum force.”
Those about to be interned were told they could send ahead four pieces of luggage per person—one to be bedding and the other three trunks or boxes. They would be allowed to carry two suitcases by hand. Great speculation arose as to what might be deemed of absolute necessity. Blankets? Books? Perishables? What about pots and pans? Should doctors and nurses carry medical supplies? It was certain they would need eating utensils, one plate and one cup per person.
Reducing one’s life and household to a few bags seemed an impossible task. Salvation Army Officer Brigadier Ken Stranks urged anyone with a musical instrument to bring it along because, when times got bad—as surely they would—at least they would be able to make music.
The four pieces per person were scheduled to be sent to Weihsien on March 26, 1943. The new internees they belonged to were sent by train in three shifts—the first on March 23, the second on March 28, and the third on March 30.
Both Eric and fellow missionary Carl Longman took the third train.
In describing those days, Rev. Longman wrote,
Arrangements for the rail journey of over 400 miles were splendidly carried out. We assembled at 7.30 p.m. on March 30th and had our luggage inspected by Japanese guards—our first contact with them. We moved off at 9 p.m., marching along the streets lined by sympathetic, silent crowds of many nationalities, the majority, of course, being Chinese. Third class carriages—very crude compared with British “Thirds” were provided, and we took our allotted places in them. We moved out of the railway station at 11.40 p.m. and sat up all night.[85]
At ten o’clock the next morning, the third shift of internees changed trains at Tainan, then arrived at Weihsien at three forty that afternoon. After reaching the camp, they walked beneath iron gates where, many years before their arrival, “Courtyard of the Happy Way” had been carved in Chinese within the arch.
The new internees were eagerly greeted by those who had arrived previously. Eric and his fellow inmates gathered on the athletic ground, where they received preliminary instructions and were then led to their living quarters. Single men and women filed into dorms. Married couples and those with families were sent to thirteen-by-nine-foot rooms.
Initially, Eric shared a room such as this with Rev. Edwin Davies (called Bear) and Rev. J. A. McChesney Clark (called Josh). Gone for them were spacious rooms and rambling streets. Gone were cafés and restaurants. Gone were the everyday comforts of private baths and uninfested bedding on which to sleep. With only a little space for three grown men, Eric felt as though he had somehow been transported back to boarding school.
More than 1,800 people lived indefinitely inside the mission, walled off by an electrified barbed-wire fence where watchtowers rose from stone perimeters. Armed guards and Alsatian police dogs marched along the walls, and every day the detainees woke to roll calls, bayonet drills, and hunger.
Early on, Eric discovered that his group from Tientsin had not been the only detainment of foreigners. Other segments from around China had also been transported to Weihsien. Numerous new faces made Eric and the others intrigued yet anxious as they quickly realized how tight their living conditions would be. Filtering into cramped quarters solely with familiar faces would have been much easier than doing so with a large group of strangers. “First come, first served” had not been the most hospitable greeting they could have hoped for but had been the general sentiment.
As cumbersome and complex as settling had been, another train soon arrived with more foreigners from Peking, among them Nurse Annie Buchan. She was relieved to see Eric and Cullen, just as they were to see her.
The weather did not and would not work in their favor. The spring and autumn climates were tolerable, but the summer brought sweltering heat to that area of China. In late August, when the rainy season began, roads washed out, walls collapsed, and roofs leaked. The winter blasted the internees with arctic chills, so much so that blankets became precious commodities.
Sanitation, or the lack thereof, also became an issue. With only twenty-three latrines for 1,800 men, women, and children, lines—especially first thing in the morning—were exceedingly long. The plumbing, due to limited water supply, did not work, which meant a backup of excrement onto the floors of the bathrooms.
But the biggest mess they had to deal with in the camp would be of their own creation.
[80] David McCasland, Eric Liddell: Pure Gold: A New Biography of the Olympic Champion Who Inspired Chariots of Fire (Grand Rapids, MI: Discovery House, 2001), 241.
[81] D. P. Thomson, Scotland’s Greatest Athlete: The Eric Liddell Story (Barnoak, Crieff, Perthshire, Scotland: Research Unit, 1970), 179.
[82] Eric Liddell, The Disciplines of the Christian Life (New York: Ballantine Books, 1985), 10–11.
[83] D. P. Thomson, Scotland’s Greatest Athlete: The Eric Liddell Story (Barnoak, Crieff, Perthshire, Scotland: Research Unit, 1970), 182.
[84] David McCasland, Eric Liddell: Pure Gold: A New Biography of the Olympic Champion Who Inspired Chariots of Fire (Grand Rapids, MI: Discovery House, 2001), 247.
[85] D. P. Thomson, Scotland’s Greatest Athlete: The Eric Liddell Story (Barnoak, Crieff, Perthshire, Scotland: Research Unit, 1970), 185.
CHAPTER 22
INCURVATUS IN SE
I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound. In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and
