By Scalpel and Cross

A Missionary Doctor in Old Korea

Fletcher

• Publisher: Resource Publications
• Year: 2016
• eBook ISBN: 9781498292382
• Topic: Theology & Religion
• Subtopic: Religion

By Scalpel and Cross: A Missionary Doctor in Old Korea is the story of a Presbyterian medical missionary told against the background of Korea in the first half of the twentieth century, decades before the astounding rise of South Korea. Young Dr. Archibald G. Fletcher arrives in 1909, just before Japan annexes Korea. The dramatic, little-read history of early Christian missions is part of the story, as Arch, assigned to Taegu, confronts appalling diseases, poverty, and the scourge of leprosy.

1

Suddenly at War

Ned Adams paused at the door. He had just let in a swirl of night air with the light chill of early December. Let in, too, was the distant barking of a dog and other muted night-sounds of Taegu, Korea, still a small city in 1941.

As he turned to add a last comment, Ned closed the door again—it was important to be conserving heat. “It’s hard to imagine that even the warlords in Tokyo would take on more than China just now—but remember, Japan has built up a fine navy and never had a chance to use it.”

With that he said goodnight. Jessie and Arch stood watching him go down the walk into the shadows, off toward his house on the low hill a quarter mile away.

Jessie said, “Arch, it’s just the three of us here now, with all of the other houses empty and everyone gone—even Sue Adams with Jack. How lonely it must be for Ned! And how much longer may it be now for Ned and for us?”

“Are you worried, dear?” Arch patted her arm. He was like that, affectionate—always a bit restrained, but deeply, genuinely affectionate.

“Yes, I guess so, a little. I’m glad the mission and the board let me stay, though; I wouldn’t want to leave you here. And I believe in what we’re doing, what we were called to do.”

“Then we’ll keep on doing it, just as long as we can.” That was the way he put it—Archibald Grey Fletcher, MD—and his voice sounded deep and strong.

“All right,” Jessie responded. “The Lord knows and cares. The Lord knows that Ned wants to keep the Boys’ Academy running and is ready to stay behind, alone, to do it, and the Lord knows how much the hospital needs you and means to you—to all of your people, who are my people, too.”

They were back in the dining-living room now. Jessie let the talk stop there, while she busied herself with clearing cups and teapot and what else was left from their Sunday evening supper. For his part, Arch was glad to think about tomorrow, whom he needed to talk to and what further steps ought maybe to be taken at the hospital to be sure it could keep functioning, even without him. He knew—all of his Korean staff knew—that the clouds were darkening.

In Europe, from what they could read, Hitler’s war machine kept gaining ground, and Japan had allied itself formally with Germany with an eye toward grand military conquest. How far might Japan decide to go, pursuing her expansionist designs on the Asian mainland?

The Koreans had a huge stake in this. For just over thirty years, since 1910, their country had been occupied and totally dominated by Japan. Christian missions and Western missionaries, already there when Japan took over, had been tolerated and allowed to expand, as long as they did not represent a political danger. Arch, in his single-minded effort as a missionary doctor to heal the sick and promote the Gospel of redemption—peace with God and humanity—had found acceptance, even encouragement, from the authorities. But all of that could change. The militarists had established themselves firmly in Tokyo. It seemed just a question of how far they would go. For his part, Arch would hold on as long as he could.

The morning after that Sunday evening shared with Ned Adams, when Arch went to the mission hospital rather early, the air seemed unusually tense. Tension had come to be a familiar companion. He walked up the stairs and down the gleaming corridor to his office. This was his work: the three-story, fireproof hospital, the result of the best years of his life poured into a dedicated medical effort in Taegu. He noted approvingly that the terrazzo floor of the corridor shone, and reflected the lights and soft colors of the sun parlor at its far end.

But in the office, both his secretary and Elder Pak, the hospital’s veteran evangelistic worker, were waiting for him. Mr. Sihm, the secretary, glanced furtively at the door to make sure it was closed and then burst out excitedly:

“Doctor, have you heard the news? The Japanese, they’ve done it! They’ve attacked the United States—bombed the great fleet at Pearl Harbor!”

Elder Pak raised a hand and the younger man checked himself. One never knew who might be listening.

“Speak quietly,” the elder’s deep voice warned. He spoke with the benign solemnity that had lifted the heart and hopes of many a patient in the hospital; but that morning, for all the conscious dignity of his years, there was no hiding the excited gleam in his old eyes.

It was true. In the pre-dawn hours of what was Monday morning, December 8, in Korea, Japanese planes had roared in over the huge US naval base in Hawaii. No one knew the precise truth about the attack. The Japanese press and radio were blaring extravagant claims of having caught all American planes on the ground and having blasted all the ships in the harbor, the chief power of the US Navy. That would be as it would be. One fact was clear, and it was enough for the Koreans. Japan, in what they saw as the folly of her war-might, had taken on the United States of America.

A little later, Jessie reached her tiny downstairs office. She worked in the hospital as matron in charge of linen supplies and housekeeping. Her faithful co-worker, Mrs. Song, slipped in suddenly without announcement. Mrs. Song’s round face was grayish, like old parchment.

“Did they tell you?” she whispered. “It’s war.”

On through the morning, Arch held determinedly to his deliberate routine. He could imagine very well what the news meant to his staff, as to any and all of the Korean people. For thirty-one of the thirty-two years of his service in Korea, the country had been called Chosen (Cho-SEHN), Japan, an annex of the Japanese Empire; but rebellion was always smoldering just below the surface.

He knew to walk cautiously. He saw to it that the occasional Japanese patient, usually a petty official of some kind, was treated courteously, and he cultivated polite relations with local empire officials. Now would come the test—now that Ned Adams’ remark had proved to be prophetic. Those Japanese aircraft carriers must have been taking up their positions far out on the Pacific toward Hawaii even as Ned was speaking. Of course Washington would declare war. He and Jessie, as well as Ned, were now—or would soon be—“enemy aliens.” The thing was not to let slip any comment, any noticeable reaction at all.

It felt strange, this new identity. Walking home up the sloping path that evening, in the already gathering dusk, Arch let his mind dwell on that, as he hadn’t let it do all day while he kept everything carefully calm and routine on the outside, and inside as well. How many days and years had he walked up this path past the poplar trees to the front steps? Those were the trees, where he had a pole stretched between them for the children’s swing and where Archie made a platform look-out, with Don’s timid help, when the tops of one trunk and main branches were sawed off even. How long ago did that have to have been, with his and Jessie’s three now through college—Elsie out and working, Archie in medical school, and Don in seminary? Well, he and Jessie were still here, and she would be home ahead of him with a warm supper waiting. Could it—would it still go on?

That would have to be as it would be. He wasn’t going to doubt the Providence that had brought him here. God’s way had been quite clear, and God’s hand was strong, stronger than anything that could be thrown across his own path. He had trusted to follow God’s way from his early beginning. Whatever test might come now, he would keep on following.

The evening was calm—almost tranquil. Jessie had arranged for a simple dinner, as he knew she would.

“Arch, what do you think of the news?” she asked as they sat at table.

“It gives us a lot to think about, but not too hastily.”

Do you ever do anything hastily? Jessie thought; but that’s a strong point with you. You think long and carefully before you leap, and I’ve been learning to act the same way.

They discussed their prospects calmly and then went to bed. There wasn’t much to discuss yet—just conjecture, which Arch shied away from. Jessie knew well that it wasn’t his way to play games of what-if. They would wait and see, while they kept strong their trust in what the Lord might have for them, out of the vast things that would be happening.

The following morning, Kang Si, the cook, arrived with a message. The “outside man” who looked after the house and grounds and did shopping had been taken to jail and would not be coming to work any more. A short while later, there was a quick, nervous tapping at the back door. It was Ned Adams’ man, to say that in the night the police had come for Ned and taken him away. What did they say? Why would they do that? He knew nothing more to tell.

“Jessie, the thing to do is to act like nothing unusual is happening,” Arch said.

“But what about poor Ned?”

“There’s nothing we can do for him, and maybe we’ll be next. See if you can find a small bag for each of us and put in just the most necessary things. We’ll keep them near the front door, in case the police come and we don’t have much time.”

That was a frightening thing that kept on being frightening each time Jessie saw the bags there at the door, but a week passed and the police didn’t come. After that first swaggering announcement of Japan’s overwhelming triumph at Pearl Harbor, there was nothing—only an eerie silence.

Arch took a further step of preparation. It was absolutely important to make as sure as possible that the hospital remain in the hands of the Korean Church, and for that, all formalities must be exactly fulfilled.

On Tuesday morning—by now it was December 16—he and Jessie held a meeting of the Taegu station. With Ned in jail, they two were the station. Station meetings always began with a devotional part, so Jessie, as secretary, took out her Daily Light, a small book of selections, Bible verses for each day. As it happened, she opened to September 4, not the current date, and read aloud, a little tremulously:

Sit still, my daughter.—Take heed, and be quiet, fear not, neither be fainthearted.—Be still, and know that I am God.—The loftiness of man shall be bowed down, and the haughtiness of men shall be made low, and the Lord alone shall be exalted in that day.

With Arch presiding, the station voted to approve what he was about to do. Then he and Jessie went down to the hospital for a pre-arranged board meeting. The four representatives of the...

Table of contents

• Title Page
• Foreword
• Acknowledgments
• Abbreviations
• Chapter 1: Suddenly at War
• Chapter 2: Roots in Ontario and Nebraska
• Chapter 3: “To Any Available Post”
• Chapter 4: The Beginning of Protestant Mission
• Chapter 5: Bewildering Assignments
• Chapter 6: Taegu Station
• Chapter 7: The Scourge of Leprosy
• Chapter 8: A Brief and Furtive Courtship
• Chapter 9: Would God Ever Bring Them Back?
• Chapter 10: Laid on the Shelf
• Chapter 11: A Hospital Preaching Society
• Chapter 12: “The Doctor is Safe, and All of the Children”
• Chapter 13: A Quiet World, and Small
• Chapter 14: Romance, Tragedy and Opportunity of Leprosy Treatment
• Chapter 15: Treatment Stations—a Bright Hope Eclipsed
• Chapter 16: Our Last Family Furlough
• Chapter 17: Crowning Achievement
• Chapter 18: “Dr. Fletcher, Praise, Grace Pavilion”
• Chapter 19: Sorai Beach
• Chapter 20: Donkey Egg
• Chapter 21: A Heartbreaking Mess
• Chapter 22: Sayonara
• Chapter 23: Thirty-Eighth Parallel
• Chapter 24: Quonset Huts on a Hill
• Chapter 25: A Stone Tablet Set Up Again
• Postscript
• Illustrations