Reflections on a Belated Apology

When I heard the news at the beginning of the month that the Japanese government had apologized to Canadian soldiers for their mistreatment after the fall of Hong Kong in 1941, I immediately thought of my Uncle Reg.

As a young boy with an interest in war history, it was not long before I started asking my parents if any of our family members had served in the First or Second World Wars. Both of my grandfathers had been excused for understandable reasons (one was needed on the farm, the other had a medical condition), but they each had brothers who served. While all the brothers served in Europe, my maternal grandfather's close friend and brother-in-law had the misfortune to be in Hong Kong in 1941.

As was typical of my grandfathers' generation, all of my great uncles were reluctant to speak of their war experiences and stoic when asked about the suffering they endured. When I asked my mother about Uncle Reg, she recalled a family gathering when he had spoken about his experiences leading up to the fall of Hong Kong, but refused to elaborate about anything that happened after that point. The more I researched the experience of POWs in Japanese camps and learned about the privations they endured, the more I realized that it would be wrong to ask Uncle Reg to revisit these experiences.

Recently, I learned that Uncle Reg had a confidante with whom he could share his war experiences, Reverend Ken Moffat, the man who presided over his marriage ceremony and delivered the eulogy at his funeral. Rev. Moffat's eulogy was reprinted in the local newspaper, providing a fuller picture of his life. In it, I learned that he had enlisted underage at 17. Then after a tour of duty guarding German prisoners in Jamaica, he was sent to Hong Kong, only to be taken prisoner less than three weeks after arriving. In the end, he spent 3 years and 8 months as a POW in Hong Kong and Japan.

The last time I saw Uncle Reg before he died was at my parents' 40th anniversary celebration in 2010. Although age and illness were robbing him of the impressive strength I always remembered him for, he still carried himself with a quiet dignity as he received well wishers. In my faulty memory, I pictured him wearing a dark blazer decorated with medals, only to review video of the event to discover he sported a plaid shirt and red suspenders that day.

I cannot say if he would have accepted the apology had he lived to hear it. According to one editorial I read, some of the survivors have, some have not. Either way, it would have been his prerogative. Speaking as a distant relative, I can say that the apology does mean something to me, since every official apology contains not only an acknowledgement of the wrong, but an implied promise that similar behaviour will never be sanctioned again. Knowing that Uncle Reg and his fellow soldiers have finally been acknowledged helps me come to terms with the self doubt I have experienced at times when I weigh my regard for Japan beside my sense of family history in Canada.

Although this gesture is an important one, there are still more to make. The Japanese government has yet to resolve other longstanding issues from the war, such as compensation for the Korean "comfort" women. Hopefully, they will take measures while there are still survivors left to acknowledge the attempt at reconciliation.

Further Reading

Apology ends era of pain : The Winnipeg Free Press
We're sorry, Japanese government tells Canadian POWs : The Globe and Mail
Canadian PoW unimpressed by Japanese apology : The Province
Uncle Reg's Obituary: The Chronicle-Journal