The Story of Sr. Theophane's Missionary Life in the Jungles of Papua New Guinea

Selfless

Sr. Immolata Reida, SSpS

• Publisher: Saint Benedict Press
• Year: 2012
• ISBN:
  9781618901316
• Topic: Theology & Religion
• Subtopic: Christian Denominations

Selfless is the story of Sister Theophane, a passionate, driven nun dedicated to serving the poor around the world. Discover the inspiring story of how a precocious young girl from upstate New York became a servant and apostle to the poor in the jungle missions of Papua New Guinea, and, eventually, a prisoner of the Japanese in World War II.Selfless: The Story of Sr. Theophane's Missionary Life in the Jungles of Papua New Guinea was written in 1946 by a fellow sister of the Holy Spirit Missionary Sisters, but it is just now being published for the first time. Long held in anonymity, Sr. Theophane's amazing life of service and apostolic zeal is now finally being revealed to the world. Her story is a breathtaking tale that will inspire a new generation of Catholics to heed the call of service to Christ and others.

CHAPTER 1

SACRIFICE OF THE LAMBS

THE SUN rose with stunning beauty in the misty skies over the South Pacific. It was Sunday morning, February 6, 1944 and the people around the world were preparing to go to their churches to pray that the Almighty would spare them, and especially their loved ones serving in remote theaters, from the scourge of a brutal war that had enveloped the earth. Even the peacefulness of beautiful islands in the South Pacific had been shattered by the sound of exploding bombs as the relentlessly advancing forces of Imperial Japan ran into determined allied resistance.

The ever mysterious land, now called Papua New Guinea, had become the final extremity of Japanese advance. And it was here that the allied forces, particularly the American Air Force, began implementing General Arnold’s strategy relying on air superiority to halt the battle hardened-Japanese military juggernaut. A key element of this strategy was the systematic destruction of Japanese coastal shipping, the principal means of military transportation in Papua New Guinea and the surrounding islands due to mountainous interiors and few reliable roads.

The Americans had recently supplied their forces with a new aircraft, the twin-engine Douglas A20G, often mistaken for the better known B25 Mitchell of similar size, but specifically designed for low level, direct attacks on surface targets. This bomb carrying aircraft was rugged, powerful, and especially equipped to strafe surface targets with a battery of six nose-mounted .50 caliber machine guns designed to enable the pilot to deliver withering, concentrated fire power on any selected target.

Pursuing the American strategy of destroying coastal shipping, twenty-nine A20G aircraft of the U.S. Fifth Air Force had attacked Japanese cargo barges at Kairiru and Muschu Islands near Wewak early on that Sunday morning, sending columns of thick black smoke billowing into the clear sky. The attack had been successful with a large number of barges and coastal craft sunk, and so the attacking aircraft, led by 90th Squadron’s Major Michael Ellis, turned to begin the return flight to their home base. Just after the squadron formed up for the flight home, Major Ellis spotted a lone Japanese troop transport about six miles from Wewak churning through the blue waters a few miles off the Papua New Guinea coast. To Major Ellis, the transport, plainly visible at the head of a zig-zag wake, was an irresistible target of opportunity.

Brimming with confidence after the successful mission against the unarmed barges at Kairiru and Muschu Islands, Ellis decided to add to the success of the mission by making a pass at the transport, and if nothing else, expend his remaining ammunition. He radioed for his wingman to get out of the way, saying “I’ll take it,” advising that he would lead the attack on the transport.

Ellis banked the powerful A20G, pushing the yoke forward to begin a shallow dive and pointing the six machine guns in the nose of his aircraft directly at the transport. Pushing his throttles forward he accelerated the aircraft, now emptied of bombs, until he was approaching the ship at over 250 mph. He dropped to an altitude of barely 300 feet above the sea as he commenced his attack. Unlike the unarmed barges he had just finished bombing, this transport was armed with a pair of 25mm anti-aircraft guns, one located at each the bow and stern, both operated by veteran Japanese gun crews who had experienced numerous air attacks, including an attack on the previous day in which they had succeeded in shooting down an American plane. The Japanese gunner accurately tracked the fast approaching A20G and opened fire slightly before Major Ellis’s smaller caliber machine guns were within range. Flying through the 25mm anti-aircraft fire, as well as a hail of mostly ineffective small-arms fire from a cluster of troops standing on the deck of the ship, Major Ellis triggered his six nose guns. The recoil of the six machine guns firing simultaneously shook the big plane and their staccato blast was clearly audible even over the roar of the twin 1700hp engines driving it through the air just above the transport. The short but lethal burst from Ellis’ guns sent a storm of .50 caliber slugs into the lumbering ship and into the blur of humanity shrouding its deck. Within seconds the frantic action of the attack was over, and Ellis pushed his throttles forward to full power in order to pull away from the transport and its lethal air-craft guns as fast as possible. At this point he noticed the oil pressure in his right engine dropping and a wisp of smoke streaming behind that engine. His aircraft was seriously damaged and, although having lost one engine, was still flying. Ellis, employing his superior piloting skills, was able to keep the aircraft under sufficient control to make it to a nearby air strip where he managed to land, albeit with significant damage. In spite of the close call, Ellis had landed without killing himself or his crewman. He had not made it back to his home base, but was alive and no doubt quite satisfied that he had successfully completed his mission of delivering a serious blow to Japanese coastal shipping.

Back off the coast, within several minutes, more U.S. planes followed through in attacking the armed transport, each sending thousands more .50 caliber rounds slamming into the ship and its pitiful human cargo. Other planes were damaged by anti-aircraft fire before the 25mm guns were silenced. One A20G lost an engine cowling and bomb bay doors as it pursued such an aggressive attack, grazing the mast of the transport and streaking over the ship at the lowest possible altitude.

The transport, the Dorish Maru, although left smoking from two fires started by the strafing and with significant surface damage from the hail of American bullets, was still under power after the attack, and pressed on toward Kairiru and Wewak at a speed of about eight knots.

Below deck in the hold of the transport was a contingent of about one hundred veteran Japanese troops in addition to those that had been on the main deck. The surprising circumstance, certainly unknown to the American airmen, and initially unobserved in the furious exchange of fire, was that, in addition to the Japanese combat soldiers, the transport was crowded with civilian prisoners. The number was nearly one-hundred and fifty and was comprised mostly of missionaries of American and European origin, as well as some native New Guinean mission workers and their families, all of whom the Japanese were moving to prevent them from gaining access to advancing allied forces. Of the missionaries, most were Catholic and included priests and Brothers of the Society of the Divine Word, as well as the single largest contingent made up of Missionary Sisters Servants of the Holy Spirit, today referred to as the Holy Spirit Missionary Sisters or by the initials SSpS. It was this group of Sisters who experienced the largest number of casualties from the American strafing, suffering twenty-seven killed outright, and numerous others mortally wounded. As a result, the strafing of the Dorish Maru, while a minor loss for Japanese Imperial forces, was a disaster of monumental proportions for the SSpS—far and away the greatest single disaster ever to befall this order of faithful and committed Sisters, assigned to Papua New Guinea to announce the gospel of Christ, to educate, and to provide medical care. Innocent as they were, the cruel scourge of the world war had fallen violently upon their backs.

One of the many devoted missionary Sisters killed outright that Sunday in 1944 was a thirty-eight-year-old American born in Rochester, New York, named Sister Theophane Maier. Her family had named her Inez, but upon entering the SSpS, she selected as her religious name “Theophane” in honor of a French missionary priest, Fr. Theophane Venard who in the nineteenth Century was sent as a missionary to the Far East, and ultimately gave his life there.

Even as a youngster, Venard had dreamed of the crown of martyrdom in the service of the Church. Ordained a priest on June 5, 1852, he was sent to Hong Kong for language study, and subsequently to Tonkin, Vietnam, where he preached the gospel of Christ, an activity that was then a crime subject to penalty of death. Father Venard practiced his priestly ministry in secret for a number of years, but was eventually betrayed, captured by authorities, and held in a cage for two months, during which time he wrote to his family beautiful and consoling letters, joyful in anticipation of receiving his martyr’s crown. He was executed by beheading on February 2, 1861.

In light of this history, “Theophane” was a very appropriate namesake for Inez Maier, no doubt the result of careful study and recognition of a kindred spirit. Also as a child, she had dreamed of missionary service in China leading to martyrdom. Rather than China, she was sent to Papua New Guinea, certainly as remote and mysterious as any place on earth, particularly in the 1930s. When Inez arrived there in 1935 as Sister Theophane, many of the locals had never experienced any form of civilization beyond the boundary of a few neighboring villages. Sister Theophane grew to love these people, and gave her life to the service of educating them in faith and bringing medical care to their remote villages. Often, by long rides on horseback, at night through driving rain, or by canoe voyages on wind swept-seas—sometimes by combination of both—she brought loving care and the message of the gospel to these people who lived mostly isolated from the outside world. Her story is one of passionate, self-giving love that is absolutely remarkable, especially in the context of a self-centered twenty-first century world. While it can be said that Sister Theophane lost her life in February of 1944, it cannot be said that the life of Inez Maier was taken at that time, because the truth is that Inez Maier had already given her life years earlier to service in the name of Christ, and the events of 1944 were not at all inconsistent with her deepest desires.

CHAPTER 2

FIRST STEPS TO GOD

THERE WAS no scraping of feet, no restless moving or squirming. Forty eager faces were fixed on the young girl who had communicated to them some of the enthusiasm that flamed within her.

Sister Rosalie, who had known of her little sister’s missionary zeal for the past nine years, hardly expected such an outburst of oratory, such pressing appeals, such demands for generosity in sacrifice. She had invited her little sister to speak to her class of fifth and sixth grade youngsters at St. Stephen’s School, Geneva, New York. Sister Rosalie knew that it would do Inez good to give vent to the passion that was burning in her young heart and called for an outlet.

For a full half hour the young girl had kept this class captivated by stirring mission topics which she had gleaned from various reports and periodicals. Now she climaxed her mission talk with a call to arms.

Christ didn’t say, “If some of you would like to help, you could go to teach.” No! His words are a command. GO TEACH! And don’t think He was talking to the apostles alone. They heard, and went. They are long since dead; their share of the work is done. But there are still millions of people to convert. WE must go. Christ is commanding YOU and me—“Go, teach all nations!”¹

Fire flashed from her eyes and earnestness glowed in her flushed face as Inez stepped from the platform, nodded to the children, and turned to the door. Sister Rosalie followed the young apostle into the hall.

“That was fine, Inez. Just listen to the buzz of excitement in there.” She motioned to her room. “You surely got them started.”

“You’ll have to keep up the enthusiasm, Rosalie.” Inez always forgot to add the “Sister” now that Rosalie was a nun. “Keep them interested in the mission banks, too, and let me know as soon as you need more.”

Sister Rosalie smiled at the instructions. “I’ll see you after school about three-thirty. See how you can entertain yourself till then.”

“That gives me an hour and a half,” mused Inez. “Okay. I’ll see you later.”

She left the school, and headed for the parish church. It would take but a few minutes to get home; so she could easily visit with Sister Rosalie for an hour and still have plenty of time for preparing the next day’s lessons. Sensing that the church would be quite empty at this hour, she stopped in to talk things over with God.

Glancing out the window, Sister Rosalie caught sight of Inez’s figure as it disappeared through the heavy oak doors. “Little ...