RUTHFULLY YOURS

My slavery in Japan officially ended on Sept. 2, 1945, when Japanese and American representatives signed the formal surrender documents for the Pacific War. For nearly three years I was an American prisoner of war slave laborer for Mitsui Mining. I had survived the Bataan Death March on the Philippines and a “hell ship” to Japan only to be sold by Japan’s military to the Mitsui conglomerate. Since liberation I have struggled to regain the dignity that both Imperial Japan and Mitsui stripped from me.

Last year, the Japanese government began the process with an apology to the American POWs. And this year, there is legislation in the U.S. Congress to encourage the Japanese to continue their efforts toward reconciliation. It is my hope that this resolution, H.Res. 333, will pass soon. Its intention is clear: to show Japan that the American people believe that by supporting their World War II veterans, they will strengthen the U.S.-Japan relationship.

At Mitsui’s Miike coal mine at Omuta in southern Japan, I was among 1,737 military and civilian POWs. There were 730 Americans, 420 Australians, 332 Dutch, 250 British and prisoners of five other nationalities in one of the biggest and worst of the POW facilities run by the Mitsui Company. Mitsui managed nine POW camps, the largest number in Japan. They used POWs as miners and stevedores.

Mitsui company employees regularly beat me and the other POWs. I had nearly every bone in my body broken at some point. Both guards and other employees were brutal and capricious. They seemed to delight in every form of abuse, from petty harassment to sadistic torture. This maltreatment at the Mitsui Omuta POW camp mirrored and often exceeded that in the nearly 250 POW camps throughout the Japanese Empire.

I mined coal 12 hours a day in hot, wet, long-abandoned tunnels. I was fed less than 600 calories a day and lived in unheated, vermin-infested quarters. Medical care was primitive and Red Cross boxes were withheld. I feared death every day. More than half a century later, I still have terrifying nightmares.

Typical of the major slave labor-using companies, Mitsui had a major shipping operation which profited from the transportation of Allied POWs. These merchant ships, dubbed “hell ships,” carried very little food or water. POWs huddled in suffocating, cramped, unsanitary conditions as they were brought to Japan. Unmarked as POW transports, they became easy targets for Allied attacks. For example, a U.S. submarine torpedoed Mitsui’s Arisan Maru, which carried 1,800 POWs aboard. Only eight survived because their captors cut the rope ladder to the hold and the accompanying convoy ships refused to rescue those floating on debris.

In September 2010, I led a delegation to Japan of six former POWs and two descendants of POWs. We were guests of the Japanese government invited to receive an apology for imperial Japan’s maltreatment and failure to live up to either the letter or the spirit of the Geneva Convention. For me, the public apology lifted decades of humiliation and affirmed our honor and dignity.

I strongly disagree with those that believe reminding Japan of its war crimes is counterproductive. The idea that the process of politely requesting an apology for atrocities creates too much political inconvenience is insulting to all involved. The trust needed to move our alliance forward can only be built upon a frank assessment of the past. Real friendship is forged through the acknowledgment of painful truths.

The Japanese government had been responsible for the supply and control of the POWs, but Japan’s companies maintained the POW facilities and assigned our work. Now my fellow POWs and I wait for corporate Japan’s apologies. Over 60 Japanese companies, nearly all still in existence—such as Mitsui, Sumitomo, Mitsubishi, Kawasaki and Hitachi—used POW slave labor to maintain war production. My letters to Mitsui and to Japan’s chief business organization, Keidanren, have gone unanswered.

At the heart of all this effort is a simple truth: the need to remember, recognize and honor those who endured so much. I hope that both Japanese and Americans will support H.Res. 333 which thanks the Japanese government for its historic apology. This resolution encourages Japanese companies to follow this good example by apologizing and honoring the memory of the POWs who labored and suffered as slaves for profit.

This unresolved past casts a despicable shadow over the reputations of these companies today. It will continue to do so unless reason, fairness and human dignity prevail.

Mr. Tenney was a member of Maywood, Illinois’ 192nd Tank Battalion, Company B that defended the Philippines in World War II. He lives in San Diego, Californi