Captive 297

From Chapter 1:  The Moment of Surrender

The order came down to us to stack our weapons and remove the ammo clips from our belts. We were surrendering unconditionally. If we hadn't surrendered then, we would have been annihilated in a couple of days or less. It was that bad. I was sitting on the ground with a group of maybe ten or twelve waiting for the Japanese to move in and take us over. I think we were too tired, hungry, and beat to care.

This kid from Fresno—who died of starvation three years later in Japan—was our company clerk. He sat reading a Mickey Spillane-type novel all the time we waited. I'll never forget that. It had to be the height of coolness. We kidded him about it! There he was, sitting in a rather exciting situation, reading that book. I think when the Japanese moved into sight, he possibly finished the page.

I suspect that he forgot about that book a few minutes later because when the Japanese came up to us, they noticed one of our guys had forgotten to remove an ammo clip from his belt—no ammo in it, just an empty clip. They beat him to a pulp. God, I hated them then. How I wish we hadn't surrendered, but it was too late. I hadn't seen anything yet!

Reflections

from Art’s son, David Troness

As I think about my father’s experiences and the history that shaped his life, I am reminded of how easily people can be led astray by dangerous leaders. The horrors of Nazi Germany and Imperial Japan show us how powerful leaders can distort the truth, encourage blind loyalty, and push their people to commit unspeakable acts. In Japan, the Emperor was seen as a divine figure, and soldiers were taught that surrender was shameful. This belief justified the brutal treatment of POWs, as captives were viewed as dishonorable and less than human. Similarly, in Nazi Germany, the systematic demonization of Jews, combined with Adolf Hitler’s charismatic and emotionally charged speeches, led to genocide. His powerful oratory skills enabled him to sway large crowds, using lies and half-truths to convince the German people that such cruelty was not only acceptable but necessary.

In both cases, leaders encouraged their followers to abandon basic morality in favor of blind obedience. These events are a powerful reminder that when lies are repeated often enough—especially when delivered by a charismatic leader—they can erode even the most fundamental human values, leading ordinary people to justify terrible actions.  History has shown that this isn’t something confined to the past. When leaders—no matter who they are—repeat lies and extreme rhetoric long enough, people begin to believe them. These lies can slowly erode basic values like compassion, truth, and human decency. Ordinary people, who might never have considered such actions before, can find themselves justifying or even participating in behaviors that they once thought unthinkable. This is how dangerous ideologies take root, and how societies can turn against their own people, or against those they see as “others.” We must stay alert to these patterns and guard against the kind of manipulation that leads people to act without question or conscience. As the past has shown us, we are all responsible for ensuring that such tragedies do not happen again.

By staying alert to these patterns and recognizing the manipulation of truth, we can protect ourselves from repeating the mistakes of the past. The lessons of Nazi Germany and Imperial Japan remind us that we all have a responsibility to ensure that truth, decency, and humanity prevail.