Torn Apart

By Ben Jevons

Based upon real events, this is the remarkable story of one familys struggle through the Second World War, after the Japanese invasion of the Philippines. A true testament to the strength of the human spirit.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: Jan 28, 2017
• ISBN: 9781504934695

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© 2017 Ben Jevons. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 03/06/2017

ISBN: 978-1-5049-3468-8 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4969-9999-3 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-5049-3469-5 (e)

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Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Epilogue

CHAPTER 1

As he waved from the balcony of the ship, John Dumas’ stomach churned with fear. His mouth was dry, parched with dread. Never in his life had he felt so afraid. He tried to put on a brave face whilst waving goodbye to his beloved family. His beautiful daughter, Marie, her husband, Jim, and their three kids were all on the dock waving goodbye. John squeezed his wife, Victoria’s, hand so hard he thought she might yell.

Don’t worry, darling. Everything’s going to be fine, she said soothingly. John had every bone in his body crossed that she was right, but he was not convinced. He just had this awful feeling that it might not be. John had bought the whole family tickets to leave the Philippines and head back to America on the Cleveland, from which they were now waving. As they left the harbour, neither John nor Victoria had any idea what the future had in store for them all. If they had had an inkling of the nightmares ahead, John would have put his foot down much, much harder. Hindsight was one word that John and Victoria would hate for the following four years. It would haunt them, taunt them, nigh on torture them every single day.

As Manila faded into the distance behind them, the lights dimmed like a cigarette being stubbed out. Victoria and John headed inside from their balcony into their wonderfully well-appointed cabin. The deepest of carpets sunk under their feet, almost crimson in colour. There were towels in the bathroom so big you could wrap yourself up in them. The room felt bare, John thought – no, void. ‘Void’ was the word he was looking for. They drew scant comfort from the luxury, numb from the farewell. John approached Victoria and hugged her so intensely that their frayed emotions ebbed and flowed in the embrace. Neither of them could utter a single word about leaving their family behind. They only had each other now, and that sudden realisation made their hug all the more intense. All they could do was hug each other and hope that they would all remain safe. Who was to know the right course of action?

I could do with a stiff drink. Would you care to join me?

Absolutely, Victoria replied, perhaps a tiny bit too eagerly. John measured out two large whiskeys. They returned to the balcony and sat in silence, allowing the liquor to gently numb their senses. As the ship steamed ahead across the mighty Pacific, John cast his mind back over the last few years. He hoped that what he believed, the information he trusted, would turn out to be nothing more than the hare-brained paranoia of someone that nobody wanted to listen to or believe in.

Life in the Philippines had been, for the most part, very good to John and Victoria. John had been assigned there to help Kinsalgen and Co. develop their interests in the burgeoning sugar industry. They had settled well. John loved his job, and Victoria was delighted with the lifestyle she could lead in Manila. The expat social scene was incredibly active, almost a little too busy for John’s liking. If it kept Victoria busy and happy, was there really anything to complain about? There was always something going on, on any given night. No one could ever feel lonely here; that just wasn’t an option. The house they lived in was their dream house: perfectly white and grand but not grotesque, with sweeping steps flowing up to the pillared entrance. They felt like royalty, and with Ah Tim and Jo, their two full-time staff, they were royally looked after too.

Their first fifteen years roared by in a whirlwind of what felt like, for the most part, hard work and family planning. The family soon expanded from two to five. Victoria gave birth to three beautiful children, Norman, Mark, and Marie. Amongst all this family noise and development, John and Victoria listened, incredulously, to the unfurling events in Europe with the onset of the Great War. Their ears, at times, felt like they were glued to the wireless. They couldn’t believe how lucky they were to be a million miles away from all the death and destruction, cocooned with their family in their beautiful house with what felt like not a care in the world. John never tired of coming back from work to their home, which was perpetually bursting at the seams with endless noise and energy. Kids were always swarming through the house, buzzing here and there.

CHAPTER 2

As the world sped through the 1920s, Kinsalgen and Co. grew ever stronger in the sugar industry. The world was developing a very, very sweet tooth. It was discovering candy and fizzy drinks on an unprecedented scale. The demand was simply astonishing. Kinsalgen and Co. was only too happy to oblige and farm as much sugar cane as it physically could. John had never been so busy, and life had never been so prosperous. The real key to this prosperity solely rested on the relationship with the farmers – the centrals and the planters. The formula was simple. As long as John looked after them, they would look after him and the company. As the company grew, John made sure that if the workers needed renovations on their local church, their wish was granted. If the local school didn’t have enough furniture for the children, likewise, the company would come to the rescue. In return, the company flourished, as it had a reliable, trusted workforce that really wanted to work. Over the years, John even became confidant to some of them. He hoped they understood that he would do all that he could to help them.

Returning home one evening, John sensed that something was wrong as soon as he entered the house. Victoria was pale and her eyes desperate for help. She clutched for some kind of comfort, gripping the banister as though she could not stand up without it. Norman and Mark are ill. Both of them have serious fever, some kind of tropical disease, John. I rushed them to hospital. Christ, John, I’m so scared. They looked horrendous. Both of them were babbling nonsense, shaking and sweating. I’ve never seen so much sweat, John, and they were almost yellow. I …

Slow down, darling. Please, please, try and take a deep breath. John’s head was spinning. He tried to absorb the news as they held on to each other, neither of them wanting to believe what was happening. Medical supplies were hardly in abundance, and they both knew how lethal tropical diseases in this part of the world could be. Even with the right medication, it was by no means a given that you would make any type of recovery. Marie, mercifully, was having dinner at a friend’s house. There was no need to panic her yet with the news.

Give me a second, honey. I’m just going to have a quick word with Ah Tim. Then we’ll head off to the hospital. Victoria looked so frail, John thought she would fall over at any moment. As John entered the kitchen, he could see the fear etched into Ah Tim’s face. She had been crying but didn’t want him to see. John knew how much she and Jo loved the kids and looked after them as if they were their own.

We’re heading straight to the hospital, Ah Tim. Marie knows nothing about this. When she gets back, please tell her that the boys are sick and we are at the hospital with them. Tell her there’s no need to panic and we will all be back soon.

John felt awful handing Ah Tim such a responsibility, but time was of the essence. They had to get to the hospital, and they could only hope that Marie would understand. The journey to the hospital took around twenty minutes. It felt like an eternity. Victoria was uncontrollably afraid, desperate for answers to a million questions that John couldn’t, for the life of him, help with. John had to keep calm, and yet deep down, he was so scared he could feel his very core shaking.

Norman and Mark had been put together in their own room, isolated from the rest of the hospital. Both of them, but a day or two before, had been discussing their futures with such energy. Now in their twenties, they had their whole lives ahead of them. John and Victoria looked through the window of the door in despair. There they lay, shivering uncontrollably, whimpering like wounded animals. Norman had his eyes shut while Mark stared at the ceiling, his eyes glazed over in such a wild expression. Victoria and John were both scared witless; it was unimaginable for them to comprehend how horrific their sons both looked. They had been warned that it was too risky for them to go in, purely as a precautionary measure against catching the terrifying disease themselves. There lay their darling boys, side by side. There was nothing they could do but watch and pray. Eventually they tore themselves away from peering through what felt like the tiniest of windows. They had to get home; Marie would be waiting.

The following days rolled by in a haze of trips to the hospital. No one could really talk to each other properly; there was so little to say or do. Victoria and John tried to keep a round-the-clock vigil with one of them always at the hospital. They managed it for a full week, barely seeing each other or talking to each other but making sure there was always somebody there with the boys. They all felt completely hopeless – useless, in fact. Nobody in the hospital knew precisely what the disease was, which meant that nobody could prescribe the proper medication. It was by no means the doctors’ fault that they did not have the answers, and more important, an antidote. Yet in the heat of the moment, that still was not good enough. It was never, ever going to be good enough. The halls of that hospital echoed hollowly to the sound of Marie, Victoria, and John pleading with the doctors that there must be something they could do. Sadly, so incredibly sadly, that echo was never answered.

Norman passed away first, a full week after being admitted. Mark lasted longer, all of three weeks, but again succumbed to the dreaded disease. Infuriatingly, nobody could ever properly explain the disease. The doctors were at a loss as to what to prescribe. They were not given enough time to be able to find out what it was– except perhaps, most frustratingly, post mortem. Both of their sons were gone, taken away before they had reached their twenty-fifth birthdays. There had been no warning, no tell-tale signs. Even without war, they had been so cruelly taken away. The following weeks felt like a punishment that Sisyphus himself would have declined. The family all managed to somehow keep each other together through the trauma and gradually, brick by brick, started rebuilding their lives. It felt for days on end that all they were doing as a family was surviving rather than living. They went through the motions of everyday life mechanically, as if programmed, because they had to. No one wanted to offend each other or touch on subjects that would take time to heal. It was clear that life as they knew it would never be the same again, but life still had to go on.

CHAPTER 3

The last night of the 1920s was going to be celebrated at the Manila country club. No expense, it seemed, was to be spared. Both Victoria and Marie looked so beautiful. John definitely felt a couple of inches taller as they glided through the entrance to the club. The club was a myriad of sparkling dresses and white tuxedos. Everyone looked so glamorous and elegant. The cocktails flowed whilst the softest of jazz enveloped the room, smooth as silk. They did their best mingling with the guests, a good part of them their friends, who all wanted to hug or hold their arms for just that little bit too long. How were they doing? Was there anything, anything at all they could do to help? ‘Absolutely,’ John muttered under his breath. ‘Just leave us alone.’ The outpouring of sympathy was more than appreciated, but John felt like he was drowning in it. He needed to move on to try and deal with the pain, and all he was getting was more and more reminders. They were eventually saved by a call for dinner, where, finally, the same topic of conversation would fade away.

Victoria had already planned it so that they would be sitting with the Hortago family, their closest friends. Unlike John or Marie, Victoria knew there would be five of them, as the Hortagos were looking after a young man called Jim Wolff who had been relocated to the Philippines to help his company, Nestlé, source ever-greater supplies of sugar cane. The first thing everyone noticed as they got to the table was how incredibly tall Jim was, without in any way looking awkward. He was a tower of a man, and handsome too. As the introductions were being made, Marie saw out of the corner of her eye her name card sandwiched in between Jim’s and her father’s for dinner. She was, even with her father on one side, quietly delighted to be sitting next to Jim. John could sense Marie’s awkwardness at having her father sitting next to her when she and Jim evidently got on so well. It tickled John to watch them struggle to be so polite to the rest of the table when all they wanted to do was, quite clearly, be with each other.

The evening sped by in a blur of fine food – the lobster stir fry was exquisite – and a couple too many cocktails on John’s part. It only felt like they had been at the club for an hour when they were ushered down to the lawn to bring in the new year while watching the fireworks display. Once again, they were not to be disappointed.

Happy New Year, darling, Victoria said, squeezing John’s hand. I love you so much.

John gave Victoria and then Marie an especially large hug.

Mr and Mrs Dumas, happy new year, proclaimed Jim Wolff. I would be delighted to escort Marie home once the dancing has finished, with your permission.

That would be perfect, Victoria replied. John and I are exhausted, so we are going to sneak off now.

Marie’s face lit up like a Chinese lantern. After kissing her good-bye they headed on their way just as the band struck up. It was a perfect decoy to allow them to quietly escape from the party. As they arrived back home, each knew exactly what the other was thinking, and yet not a word was mentioned.

The next few years passed by relatively uneventfully. The big news was Jim and Marie’s wedding. After the New Year’s Eve party they were inseparable, stuck to each other as if magically glued together. They were so happy, as were Victoria and John. Their engagement and wedding all happened within a couple of months of the party. They were fast movers. There was no stopping them in the family department either, and within what felt like a blink of the eye, Victoria and John became grandparents. Two beautiful granddaughters, Rose Marie and Vicky, were born. How they both longed to spoil them and show them the world.

CHAPTER 4

John’s work at Kinsalgen and Co. was as busy as ever, but, much to his irritation, more and more problems seemed to surface. The collapse of Wall Street and the subsequent depression was catastrophic for every business, and sugar was no exception. Prices had actually plummeted so low that a good number of the centrals did not want to sell their crops. It