The flag of the Rising Sun sways in the wind above the Marine Barracks in Sumay. Though reminded every day of the Japa-nese presence in Guam, Chamorros never lost hope that America would return to liberate the island. Photo courtesy of War in the Pacific National Historic Park ()
Editor’s Note: The story was first published on the 50th anniversary of the Liberation of Guam.
I used to listen to my auntie’s stories about the invasion, occupation, liberation and other things concerning the Japanese on Guam back then. She told me all about the “Uncle Sam” song and used to sing different versions of it, all the while a smile upon her face.
Both children and adults learned and sang the song throughout the occupation period though forbidden by Japanese authorities. It was a ditty urging the return of the Americans.
One version of the song, not so silly to the Japanese occupying authorities went like this:
“Eighth of December, 1941 People went crazy right here in Guam. Oh, Mr. Sam, Sam My dear Uncle Sam, won’t you please come back to Guam.”
Other versions included a stanza telling the Americans to “Hurry up and come back with Camels and Chesterfields, because we’re tired of smoking the (Japanese cigarettes).”
She said that “Pete Rosario and his gangs” invented the song, and that printed versions of it nowadays aren’t always the same as the ones she knew. Additional verses, as written in the Carano-Sanchez “History of Guam” follow:
Early Monday morning The action came to Guam, Eighth of December, Nineteen forty-one.
Oh, Mr. Sam, my dear Uncle Sam, Won’t you please come back to Guam?
Our lives are in danger You better come And kill all the Japanese Right here on Guam.
Part of the ditty’s popularity was that one could make up anything about the Japanese, and no matter how silly, it would still be appropriate.
The song got so popular, she said, that even humming the tune around the Japanese infuriated them, and they would “binta” (slap) you or dole out some other kind of punishment.
Rosario and his friends sang a little concert to some of the first Marines on island in the area of the Agana cemetery, and after that, it became a hit with the liberators.
It wasn’t the only song in the psychological fight with the Japanese occupying authorities. One other song, or saying by the Chamorros that made a mockery of the Japanese propaganda effort was about the flag which depicts a sun on a white field.
Chamorros took advantage of the language barrier for a song that they were taught about Japan’s flag, the one with the red ball as the sun.
But instead of using the given lyrics, which used the word “apaka” which means white in Chamorro, Chamorros hid a devious smile and sang instead the word, “aplacha,” which means dirty in Chamorro. Apparently no one ever caught on.
My auntie insisted that she remain anonymous, but our thanks still go out to her for sharing her enjoyment of that old, that silly, but oh, so precious song.
It may be old and may be silly, but even now the song sings loud of the Chamorro faith in those times, of the hope that kept people’s spirits high in a time of despair.
Thank you Uncle Sam.
January 10, 1942
In Guam, American military and civilian personnel, Navy nurses, as well as American and Spanish priests are forced to march to Piti and board the ship Argentina Maru. Their destination: Prisoner-of-war camps in Japan.
