start, General MacArthur stepped in and ordered it canceled. During this period, the militant labor unions were supported by leftist elements in SCAP and by the Japanese press, which was suddenly taken over by left-wing elements.
In an article written for the twentieth-anniversary issue of the Club paper, No. 1 Shimbun, Mas Ogawa explained the leftist swing among newspapers. At the end of the war, Mas pointed out, the Japanese press was "ill-prepared" to cover Japan's surrender and occupation. It had been "reduced in the years before and during the war to a mere reproducer of the official propaganda line laid down by the Government." SCAP set out to remedy this with its press code, placing the newspapers under the "sometimes capricious censorship" of the Occupation forces.
Certain officials endeavored to get some vitality into the press and to let the newsmen realize that they were indeed free to write within the limits, naturally, of the Occupation's censors. "When the press threw off the bewilderment and lethargy of war defeat, some of its members went on a real binge to the extreme left."
The trouble began when the publisher of a national daily, the Yomiuri Shimbun, was purged. "The managing editor who followed the Communist line closely and his editorial assistants capitalized on the situation to take over virtual control of the newspaper. They were backed by the company-wide labor union." This labor-management clash within the newspaper was matched by a similar battle within SCAP itself.
Some SCAP officials looked upon the labor uprising as a healthy sign of democratic ideas taking hold in the newspaper world. SCAP finally came out on the side of the management, however, ruling that newspapers as public instruments must never be subject to any pressure whatsoever, government, rightist, or labor unionist. "But before the incident was ended, the newspaper was involved in demonstrations and riots which threatened to spread to other papers. It was a wild and woolly period of great disturbances before order was finally restored."
Some sanity was brought to the frenetic pace of life in the Club with the arrival of wives and families. A number of correspondents rented rooms close to their offices with Japanese families. GHQ frowned on the practice, but the Japanese homeowners were happy to take them in as roomers, on the logic that the correspondents would provide a defense against the risk of having their homes taken over by the military. Besides, the roomers often brought presents in the form of Stateside food, candy, liquor, and other articles which delighted children and adults alike. Though they were inexpensive at the PX, most Japanese couldn't afford the prices charged at the black-market stalls which sprang up in railway centers, like Shinbashi, Shinjuku, and Shibuya. The more fortunate correspondents were allocated houses by SCAP, though some had a long wait for their homes.
Among these family types were Denis and Peggy Warner. Denis was an Aussie from Tasmania who suffered injuries when his ship was attacked by a kamikaze pilot in the closing stages of the war. While in Australia to recover, he met and married Peggy, another war correspondent. Denis arrived in Tokyo in December 1945, missing the end of the war, and roomed at the Press Club billet with Eddie Tseng, of the Central News Agency.
With most of the stories about Tokyo already covered, Denis spent his early weeks traveling around Japan for the Singapore Straits Times, from Kyoto and Osaka to Hiroshima, Nagasaki, and Kagoshima. Later, as chief correspondent for the Australian Associated Press, Denis became chief of the Reuters bureau in Tokyo, supervising coverage of the last stages of the Tokyo war crimes trials.
Peggy arrived in Japan almost a year later, with their six-week-old daughter Shelley. The Warners lived at the Marunouchi Hotel, assigned to Commonwealth personnel. For nine months the baby lived "in her wicker basket on top of a dressing-table" at the hotel while they waited for a house to be allocated to them by the Americans. "When we drew House No. 427 in Gotanda, we were overjoyed to find that a tiny scrap of Fuji appeared over the top of a camellia bush," says Peggy. However, the boiler system was unreliable, running hot when they wanted cold, and vice versa. As a result, "We found it necessary occasionally to take baths and meals at the Press Club. . . . It was in this establishment that I met wives of other correspondents who have remained friends over the years, including Mabel Handleman, Marian Walker, and Betty Tseng."
Tom and Helen Lambert also lent the Warners their home for a time during their stay at the Marunouchi. The life the Warners led was more typical of the married correspondents.
Peggy still has a cookbook given her by a Press Club member. "I use it now, fifty years later, when I need a recipe for Fuji-san Delight, a cake covered in ice-cream and meringue and browned in an oven. It was sprinkled with coconut (snow on the mountain) and topped with a cherry (fire in the crater)."
Several problems shook up the Club during the year. One was the expulsion of David Conde from Japan. Conde, a former SCAP employee, had been working as a stringer for Reuters and INS. But eight months after his change in status, GHQ notified him that his application for accreditation had been denied and that he must therefore leave the theater. Both the Executive Committee and International Committee decided that the Club had no legal status in the matter, but Conde petitioned for a meeting, which was called on March 21. The Club decided to ask GHQ to give Conde an opportunity to clear himself of the charges. But GHQ said Conde had been exceedingly active in the Communist Party of Canada for three years, and it could not stay the expulsion order.
A second problem involved Japanese Manager Fujita. The trouble arose after the new administration was installed in July 1947. For the first time, an Executive Committee took office for a one-year term to June 30, 1948. Headed by George Folster of NBC as president, its other members were Chang Jen-Chung of the Central Daily News, first vice-president; Ralph Chapman, the New York Herald Tribune, second vice; with Hessell Tiltman of the Daily Herald and Burton Crane of the New York Times re-elected treasurer and secretary, respectively.
According to Kotaro Washida, he and Fujita were worried as to how the Club would cover its soaring expenses. Washida suggested that if the Club could not obtain the help of the army, the Japanese government might assist. The prime minister at the time was Tetsu Katayama, head of the Japan Socialist Party. Fujita and Washida met Socialist Party Secretary General Suehiro Nishio at Tokiwaya, the Japanese restaurant across the street from No. 1 Shimbun Alley. Fujita explained the circumstances, and asked if the government could earmark ¥3 million per month for the Club. Nishio replied in the affirmative, but said the Club must apply in writing for financial assistance.
Certain that the Club members would be happy, Fujita reported the gist of the talks to President George Folster. Folster blew up, according to Washida, and said, "We have to protect the freedom of the press. We cannot accept such money." He then fired Fujita on the spot. Washida felt bad because he had been partially responsible, and the two of them had been doing what they thought best to save the Club.
For the Japanese, the second half of the year was beginning to look up. First, Nihon University swimming sensation Hironoshin Furuhashi, eighteen, cheered the nation when he set a world mark of 4:38.8 in the 400-meter free-style, swimming in a 50-meter pool. Because Japan had not yet been accepted as a member of the International Swimming Federation, his time was not recognized. But news of this amazing feat, wired to papers around the world, drew incredulous stares, and such snide statements as, "What do they use for a pool in Japan?"