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The war- WWII- was over and the men of Robert Allen’s 588th Squadron of the 20th Air Force celebrated when the new outdoor movie amphitheater was built at Harmon Army Airfield on Guam.
The setup included benches on the hillside across from the screen.
The outdoor movies were well-attended, but not everyone stayed for the closing credits. After a few shows, Allen and the others noticed that a small group of “patrons” on the far back benches always got up before the film was over. Instead of walking toward the barracks, they headed back up into the hills.
“We finally figured out it was Japanese soldiers who came down from their caves to watch,” Allen says. “We knew they didn’t have any weapons or supplies so we weren’t worried about them. We just left them alone. I guess they got pretty comfortable with things.”
Peter Landesman’s thoughtful and balanced story brings back my own memories of being a teenage camp refugee. My pain was alleviated by outdoor movies and the happy celluloid images of America at a time when “home” and “country” became ambiguous and painful topics.
