EDWARD CHAN
Edward Wa Foon Chan was born on February 12, 1913 in Canton, China, according to his Social Security application at Ancestry.com. His World War II draft card had the eighth as the birth day.
Edward Wa Foon Chan was born on February 12, 1913 in Canton, China, according to his Social Security application at Ancestry.com. His World War II draft card had the eighth as the birth day.
Three-year-old “Wa Foon Chan” was aboard the steam ship Shinyo Maru when it departed Hong Kong on August 16, 1916. The passenger list said he had been with his grandfather, Chan Chin Kit, at “Heung Sun, Kwangtung, China”, which was also Chan’s birthplace. He arrived at San Francisco, California on September 12, 1916. His passage was paid by his father, Sun Hing Chan, of the Yat Lun Co. in Courtland, California. According to Chan’s Chinese Exclusion Act case file, number 15559/006-10, his true birth date was March 15, 1913. Chan did not know how to convert his Chinese birth date to a Gregorian calendar date. He was born in the second year of the Chinese Republic on the second month and eighth day. Below is the page for 1913 in the Chinese-American Calendar for the 102 Chinese Years Commencing January 24, 1849, and Ending February 5, 1951. In column two, in black, are the second month and eighth day which corresponds to March 15 in red.
Chan’s father, a farmer, signed his World War I draft card on September 18, 1918. They lived in Courtland.
The 1920 United States census counted Chan, his parents and two younger siblings lived in Franklin, California. Chan and his parents were fruit farm laborers.
In the 1930 census, seventeen-year-old Chan was the oldest of six siblings. His father was the proprietor of a general store in Georgiana, California.
Chan has not been found in the 1940 census.
On October 16, 1940 Chan signed his draft card. His middle name was misspelled “Wafoom”. Chan’s address was 346 East Pine Street in Lodi, California. He was self-employed at the Food Center, 28 North School in Lodi. His description was five feet eight inches, 162 pounds, with brown eyes and black hair.
The 1942 Lodi city directory listed Chan and his wife, Sylvia, at 346 East Pine.
Chan’s veteran’s file, at Ancestry.com, said he enlisted on October 20, 1942.
Chan was on page 73 of Chinese America: History and Perspectives 1993. In the Shadow of the Tiger listed Chan and his hometown in 1945 on page 213.
Edward Chan…..Locke, CaliforniaIn the book he was also in the squadron fold-out photograph between pages 54 and 55.
The squadron’s publication, Gung Ho, No. 1, December 25, 1943, said
... Mild-tempered Pvt Woo Leung had his equilibrium shattered the other day,. Reason: “1st Sgt Chan” Woo expostulated, “told me I needed close order drills. Can you imagine me needing drilling? ME, who just came out of the Infantry?” ....... enough said.Gung Ho, No. 3, January 7, 1944, said
100 EM Cavort at Loretto Club DanceGung Ho, No. 6, January 28, 1944, said
Last week the men of the 407th made merry at a New Year’s Eve party in the hospitable atmosphere of the Loretto Club in Dayton, a Catholic women’s organization co-operating with the U.S.O. it was over the GI’s wished they could return again soon for another social.
This week that wish was realized. Right after New Year the Loretto Club extended an invitation to the unit to attend a dance and social at the same place Thursday evening. The invitation was accepted almost immediately, and in 24 hours 100 EM’s had signed up to attend. Especially after it was promised that there would be enough hostesses on hand to give every guest a chance to jive and jitter, and perchance to dance as well. Music was to be provided by a 12-piece orchestra.
The Loretto members who were mainly responsible for arranging this affair include Roberta Arbuthonot, Martha Green, Zola Strider, Maxine Shaper, Kitty and Alice Curcio.
Although this dance was an invitational affair, a slight fee was assesed [sic] each 407th EM who attended. This, however, was not for a mercenary purpose. It was for the laudable object of purchasing a gift for the Loretto in appreciation for the hospitality and courtesy its members have accorded the men of the 407th.
The gift was an oil painting entitled “Rose Goddess,” painted from a rose colored jade figure of the Chinese Goddess of Mercy, Kwan Yin. 1st/Sgt Edward W. Chan made the presentation of the gift to the club.
..meanwhile M/Sgt Floyd Sam was having one weary time inside the field, also looking for something…his glasses….the nite before, in Dayton, Sam and 1st/Sgt Ed Chan looked for a hotel room…and found one as big as a dormitory, and with almost as many beds….it was so big they were almost scared to sleep……..Gung Ho, No. 7, February 7, 1944, said
….Loudest and most rythmic [sic] snorer in barracks #3 seems to be none other then [sic] 1st/Sgt Chan….that’s the consensus of opinion after an audience had witnessed a demonstration t’other nite….unknown to the 1st/Sgt of course….“Terrific!” said the crowd.Gung Ho, No. 12, March 10, 1944, said
Red Cross Drive On.Chan was mentioned in William Hoy’s story, “Pvt. Wah Louie & The Crane”, which appeared in the CBI Roundup, October 19, 1944.
This week the current Red Cross War Fund drive in well under way, with thousands of soldiers in Patterson field sending in their voluntary contributions.
EM of the 407th may give their individual contributions to 1st/Sgt Edward W. Chan in the orderly room anytime from now till the end of the month. ...
Chan was discharged on January 10, 1946. He returned to California.
The 1947 and 1949 Stockton city directories listed Chan’s business address as 28 North School. He and his wife resided in Lockeford.
According to the 1950 census, Chan, his wife, Sylvia, daughter, Cara, and son, Dennis, resided in Elkhorn, California. He was a butcher at a retail meat market.
The 1952 and 1955 Stockton city directories said Chan was a grocer at 1702 South Lincoln. He and his wife resided in Lockeford.
The 1962 Lodi, California city directory listed Chan as a Stockton resident. He worked at the Valley Market.
Chan passed away on September 28, 1996, in Stockton, California. He was laid to rest at Cherokee Memorial Park.
JAMES W. CHAN
James Wee Chan was born on April 12, 1924, in San Francisco, California, according to his World War II draft card.
In the 1930 United States census, Chan was the third of four children born to Wee Chan, a dry goods retail merchant, and Jung Shee. They were San Francisco residents at 815 Clay Street.
The 1940 census counted the Chans in Santa Rosa, California at 421 Washington Street.
On June 30, 1942 Chan signed his draft card. He worked for his father at 316 4th Street in Santa Rosa. Chan was described as five feet ten inches, 142 pounds, with brown eyes and black hair.
Chan enlisted on May 24, 1943.
Chan was on page 72 of Chinese America: History and Perspectives 1993. In the Shadow of the Tiger listed Chan and his hometown in 1945 on page 213.
James W. Chan…..Santa Rosa, CaliforniaIn the book he was in the squadron fold-out photograph between pages 54 and 55.
The squadron’s publication, Gung Ho, No. 3, January 7, 1944, said
…..Most of the party-going GI’s didn’t even get in till 3 or 4 ayem..on account of crowded buses…next morning the big bags under Cpl James W. Chan’s eyes were something top behold…Gung Ho, No. 6, January 28, 1944, said
….Add favorite phrases: Cpl James W Chan: “I’ll kill ya!”…and Pfc Chor Y. Law: “Have you something to do?”..Gung Ho, No. 22, July 22, 1944, said
…James Chan got his long awaited wish—a pair of maroon & Yellow-hied suspenders from his sis in Santa Rosa…Now he doesn’t have to loosen his belt every time he makes a chowhound of himself…Chinese America: History and Perspectives 1993 included “Familiar Strangers: The Fourteenth Air Service Group Case Study of Chinese American Identity During World War II” by Peter Phan who interviewed Chan and others. Chan was mentioned on pages 85–86, 86–87, 89, 92, 94, 95, 96, 100 and 101.
After the war Chan returned to Santa Rosa. Chan and his wife, Helen, were listed in the 1947 Santa Rosa city directory. He worked at Diamond Market.
The 1950 census counted Chan, his wife, two sons, father and sister in Santa Rosa at 421 Washington Street. Chan was a retail grocery store salesman.
The 1959 Santa Rosa city directory said Chan’s address was 1107 State. He was a manager at Shop & Save. The 1960 directory listed him as manager of Dick’s Super Market No. 3.
Chan passed away on June 8, 2012, in Castro Valley, California.
SANG CHAN
Sang Chan was born on October 28, 1922 in Canton, China according to his World War II draft card. However, his obituary and Social Security Death Index said his birth date was December 16, 1922. Chan’s arrival in the United Staes is not known.
Chan has not been found in the 1930 United States census. In 1940 he lived with his father in Detroit, Michigan at 8528 Linwood Avenue. His father was the proprietor of a hand laundry.
On June 30, 1942 Chan signed his draft card. His address was unchanged. Chan’s description was five feet eight-and-a-half inches, 123 pounds, with black eyes and hair.
Chan was on page 72 of Chinese America: History and Perspectives 1993. In the Shadow of the Tiger listed Chan and his hometown in 1945 on page 213.
Sang Chan…..Detroit, MichiganThe squadron’s publication, Gung Ho, No. 6, January 28, 1944, said
….Cpl Eugene MonGoy is head man with a certain “Rose” in Detroit….Is so?….on the other hand, Pvt Sang Chan reportedly has the femme situation in Detroit monopolized….does it include Rose?……It’s not clear whether Chan was discharged before or after his marriage to Ping Suey Jung in 1946. She was aboard the ship David C. Shanks when it departed Shanghai on August 13, 1946. Jung, a Canton native, had been with her mother, Tom Shee, at the Lai Sang Co. in ”Jean Wha City, Kwangtung, China”. She arrived at San Francisco, California on August 27, 1946. Her final destination was to Chan at 8528 Linwood Avenue in Detroit.
In the 1950 census, Chan, his wife and two children, Stephen and Bonnie, resided at 9633 Grand River in Detroit. Chan operated a hand laundry.
Chan’s wife was naturalized on October 24, 1952.
Chan passed away on July 27, 2010. Three days later the Dallas Morning News (Texas), published an obituary.
Chan, Sang 87, of Garland, TX passed away peacefully on July 27, 2010. Born December 16, 1922 in Canton, China, he immigrated to the U.S. at age 15, settling in Detroit MI. He served honorably in the U.S. Army Air Force during WWII as a Flying Tiger. He was a journeyman tool maker for Detroit-based Ex-Cell-O Corp, retiring after 30+ years. He is survived by his loving wife of 64 years, Ping J. Chan, & by his 4 children, Stephen, Bonnie, Pauline and Larry & 8 grandchildren & 1 great-granddaughter. Funeral services will be Saturday, July 31st at 10:00 a.m, Restland Funeral Home, Memorial Chapel, Dallas, TX 75243. He was a devoted husband, father and grandfather who will be deeply missed and forever remembered.Chan was laid to rest at Restland Memorial Park.
SEW H. CHAN (LAURENCE S.H. CHAN)
Sew Hein/Hain Chan was born on September 28, 1913 in Walnut Grove, California according to his World War II draft card.
In the 1920 United States census, Chan was the third of five siblings. The family of seven resided in Georgiana, California. Chan’s father was a merchant of Chinese goods.
The 1930 census counted the Chans in Los Angeles, California at 323 1/2 Marchessault Street.
In 1931 Chan and his sister, Yoke Nain Chan, traveled to China. On June 16, 1934 Chan, 20, and his sister, 16, were aboard the steamship President Hoover when it departed Hong Kong. They had been with their mother, Ching Shee, at “Char Yuen, Chungshan, Kwangtung, China”. The siblings arrived at Los Angeles on the fourth of July. (Chan has two Chinese Exclusion Act case files at the National Archives Pacific Region at Laguna Niguel: file code LAD 32505/92, box 379, and file code LAL 3250531 L, box 64.) Their final destination was to a cousin, Chan Kee Leung, at the Tai Chan Co., 621 South Flower Street in Los Angeles.
Chan has not been found in the 1940 census.
On October 16, 1940 Chan signed his draft card. His address was 3801 Highland Avenue in Manhattan, California. Chan’s description was five feet eight inches, 108 pounds, with brown eyes and black hair.
Chan’s veteran’s file, at Ancestry.com, said he enlisted in the Army on June 15, 1943.
Chan was on page 72 of Chinese America: History and Perspectives 1993. In the Shadow of the Tiger listed Chan and his hometown in 1945 on page 213.
Sew H. Chan (Lawrence [sic] S.H. Chan)…..Los Angeles, CaliforniaThe squadron’s publication, Gung Ho, No. 5, January 21, 1944, reported the squadron’s successful party for 350 people at the Loretto Club in Dayton.
… The five-course dinner consisted of Siu Choy soup, ham fried rice[,] egg fooling, Chinese fried chicken[,] almond and forturn [sic] cookies. Iy was whipped up in a matter of hours by available culinary experts of the 407th, Cpls Chung Quan and George Soo Hoo, Sgt. Joe Louis, Pfc’s Sew H. Chan, Gin Wong, Pong L. Wong and Chin F. Ying. …Gung Ho, No. 7, February 4, 1944, said
...Pfc Sew H. Chan asleep waiting for his turn at the PX barber shop....In CBI Roundup, October 19, 1944, Corporal William Hoy mentioned Chan in the story, “Pvt. Wah Louie & The Crane”. (scroll way down)
Chan was discharged on October 9, 1945. He reenlisted on October 10, 1945 and discharged on January 21, 1947. A photograph of Chan is on page 93 of Duty & Honor: A Tribute to Chinese American World War II Veterans of Southern California (1997). Another picture of Chan is at the Duty and Honor Collection.
After the war Chan returned to California.
According to the 1950 census, Chan, his wife, Alice, daughter, Sylvia, and son, Gary, were Los Angeles residents at 738 South San Pedro. He operated a restaurant.
The 1963 Culver City, California city directory listed “Laurence S H Chan” and his wife at 4307 Lyceum Avenue. He was manager of Bali Hai Restaurant.
In the 1990s, Chan moved to Temple City, California.
The California Death Index, at Ancestry.com, said “Laurence Sewhain Chan” passed away on August 4, 1994 in Los Angeles. He was laid to rest at Forest Lawn Memorial Park.
STEPHEN CHAN
Stephen Chan was Stephen Jue Ng on his World War II draft card. Gung Ho, No. 12, March 10, 1944, page 6, said “Addenda on Cpl Stephen J. Ng….he’s got his moniker corrected officially to read Stephen J. Chan.” He was born on November 11, 1907, in Canton, China.
Chan’s immigration records have not been found. He was not in the 1940 United States census.
On October 16, 1940, Chan signed his draft card. His address was 345 West 85th Street in Manhattan, New York City. His description was five feet two inches, 130 pounds, with black eyes and hair.
Chan married Gerda Roseland on April 23, 1941 in Manhattan. His address 345 West 85th Street in Manhattan. He was employed at a restaurant. The documents said his birthplace was Seattle, Washington.
Chan enlisted on June 10, 1943.
Chan was on page 73 of Chinese America: History and Perspectives 1993. In the Shadow of the Tiger listed Chan and his hometown in 1945 on page 213.
Stephen Chan…..Brooklyn, New York
The squadron’s publication, Gung Ho, No. 3, January 7, 1944, said
Talk about details, here’s one that was thrown on the willing shoulders of 12 GI’s on New Year’s Day…Having used the Loreto Club for our New Year Eve spree the place had to be policed up…so on New Year’s morn Pvts Nam Young, Pong Ng, Wilbert Chung, Pfc’s Goy Chin, Harry King, Cpls Park Chin, John Ung, Ray Fong, Chee O. Der, Stephen Ng, Tonley Ju & S/Sgt. York Kai were duly selected for this detail…the place was thoroly [sic] GI’d under the direction of 4 members of the club, feminine gender..then the detail was tendered a dinner with the fund remaining from the party…as guests they had the foregoing four ladies……..how nice!
Gung Ho, No. 4, January 14, 1944, said
…And Cpl Stephen Ng tells us that he spent his last weekend in Chicago in a Chinese—church. That’s his tale anyway…but he sure looked worn out when he returned…Hmmmm…
Gung Ho, No. 5, January 21, 1944, said
Chan was discharged on December 24, 1945.
The 1950 census counted Chan, his wife and two daughters, Julia and Stephanie, in Brooklyn, New York at 80 Bush Street. He was a cashier at a restaurant.
Chan passed away on April 23, 1988, in Pennsylvania. He was laid to rest at Rowlands Cemetery.
THOMAS CHAN
Thomas Chan aka Wo Chin was born on December 26, 1912, in Toishan, China, according to his World War II draft card. Chan’s naturalization petition said he was born on January 21, 1914 in Toishan. On September 2, 1964, he officially changed his name from Wo Chin to Thomas Wo Chan.
Squadron Party Huge Success.Gung Ho, No. 7, February 4, 1944, said
… Doing their part in making the preliminary arrangements was the 407th’s own committe [sic] which included S/Sgt York M. Kai, Cpls. Stephen Ng and William Hoy. With the exception of the Pfc’s and Pvts, all EM’s of the unit did their share of work before, during and after the party. …
....Well, the Chinese New Year celebration was over this week….but not until about half a hundred GI’s had thrown themselves an “opening the year” shindig at the Chungking eatery in Dayton…Cpl Stephen Ng arranged the affair, and the boys got plenty of garlic fried chicken and steaks, plus thirst quenchers and orange pekoe tea…Gung Ho, No. 12, March 10, 1944, said
…..Newest EM to become a papa is Cpl Stephen J. Ng of N’Yawk..it’s a girl….Gung Ho, No. 13, March 17, 1944, said
....Duty sectiin [sic] czar Cpl Stephen Ng has our buglers listed on his roster as “burglars”....Is so?....In December 1944, Chan was hospitalized due to acute cholecystitis.
Chan was discharged on December 24, 1945.
The 1950 census counted Chan, his wife and two daughters, Julia and Stephanie, in Brooklyn, New York at 80 Bush Street. He was a cashier at a restaurant.
Chan passed away on April 23, 1988, in Pennsylvania. He was laid to rest at Rowlands Cemetery.
THOMAS CHAN
Thomas Chan aka Wo Chin was born on December 26, 1912, in Toishan, China, according to his World War II draft card. Chan’s naturalization petition said he was born on January 21, 1914 in Toishan. On September 2, 1964, he officially changed his name from Wo Chin to Thomas Wo Chan.
Fourteen-year-old “Wo Chin” was aboard the steam ship President Jackson when it departed Hong Kong on August 28, 1928. The passenger list said he had been with his mother, Yee Shee, at “Cheung Kong, Sunning, Kwangtung, China”. He arrived at San Francisco, California on September 19, 1928. Chan’s final destination was his father, Sing Ok Chin, at 972 Clay Street in San Francisco.
Chan has not been found in the 1930 United States census.
On March 27, 1931, Chan departed San Francisco bound for China. He was aboard the steam ship President Hoover when it departed Hong Kong on April 12, 1932. He had married Wong Shee and they stayed at “To Ping, Sunning, Kwangtung, China”. Chan arrived at San Francisco on May 2, 1932. He was headed to 755 Grant Avenue in San Francisco.
Chan set sail from San Francisco to China on February 21, 1936. Four years later Chan was aboard the steam ship President Coolidge when it departed Hong Kong on December 28, 1940. He stayed with a Chew Lue, at 84 Wing Lok Street in Hong Kong. Chan arrived at San Francisco on January 16, 1941. His final destination was to his father, Guey Chin, at 755 Grant Avenue in San Francisco.
On January 21, 1941 Chan signed his draft card. The name was entered as “Wo (Thomas Chan) Chin” with Thomas Chan crossed out. His address was 755 Grant Avenue in San Francisco. His description was five feet five inches, 128 pounds, with black eyes and hair.
Chan enlisted on May 10, 1943.
Chan was on page 72 of Chinese America: History and Perspectives 1993. In the Shadow of the Tiger listed Chan and his hometown in 1945 on page 213.
Thomas Chan…..Oakland, CaliforniaIn the book Chan was mentioned on pages viii; 8 (unofficial interpreter for the commanders), 9, and 16.
The squadron’s publication, Gung Ho, No. 6, January 28, 1944, said:
The Tale of a Pig’s Stomach & Other Celestial VictualsGung Ho, No. 7, February 4, 1944, said Private Chan was promoted to Private First Class.
There were six celebrants to begin with: Sgt Henry Lew, Cpl Hung-sheung Lee, Pfc’s Gwon J. Lee, Fong K. Eng, Fot Y. Moy, and Pvt Thomas W. Chan. I was the seventh and extra participant.
It was the eve of Chinese New Year and an occasion not to be lightly passed. What if we were four thousand lis from home, strangers in a strange land, and without the proper locale and ingredients for a celebration? The advent of the Year of the Monkey still had to be observed. So thought, Sgt Lew, late of San Francisco Chinatown, and so the others concurred. One must have wine to toast the new dawn, and at least a facsimile of a celestial banquet. Women and songs may be passed over, but viands for the inner man were truly essential.
The esteemable Mr Quan, chef at the Nanking chop suey nookery, was consulted[.] Immobile of feature and calm of demeanor, he viewed the culinary problem amidst a profusion of pots and pans and Chinese frying skillets. The Nanking catered to an American clientele, and only such foods as chop suey and chow mein were served—abominable vittles which the epicures properly hold in disdain. But how could one obtain the ingredients of a feast which would delight the palate of these brethren from afar? Some strategy was required, Mr. Quan observed. He knitted his brow in concentration. Sgt Lew was apprehensive.
The chef’s mettle was challenged, for he must fashion some tasty victuals from very simple ingredients, since the traditional foods were unavailable. Birds’ nest and shark’s fins were but a nostalgic memory here, and there were no condiments and herbs for the preparation of steamed ducks and chickens. And there was likewise no mellow rice wine. It was a culinary situation which called for cleverness and skill adaptation. The artist in Mr. Quan rose to the occasion, for was not every cook worthy of his calling an artist at heart?
So a passable dinner for six hungry celestial GI’s was promised. Sgt Lew departed to rally his five other celebrants together. The chef made this proviso—the dinner was not to be eaten till the Hour of the Serpent, at 9 PM., after the Nanking had closed its doors for the day. This was necessary to allow the chef time to do the cooking, and permit the diners to sample the dishes at their leisure and in a semblance of privacy.
At five, out of curiosity, I made a reconnaissance of the kitchen. All I saw were three pots, tightly covered, with food being steamed from Chinese iron-cast cooking pans. Dried bean curd was being steamed in one pot and dired [sic] oysters in anohter [sic], and both were later to be concocted into a soup. From the third pot came a faintly familiar and pleasant aroma.
“That,” the chef explained, “is a pig’s stomach. I was fortunate in getting a good one today, fresh and full of gastric juice.”
Pig’s stomach! (chu tu) A food as common as salt, yet, properly prepared, an epicure’s delight. Properly steamed en casserole with soup and condiments, the resultant meat fulfilled the Chiness [sic] gourmand’s three tests of a food’s virtue: taste, tenderness and crispiness.
The honorable Quan was speaking again: “I shall blend the pig’s stomach later with the bean curd and oysters. Then will be added water-chestnuts, slices of abalone, and fresh pork for additional taste. A dash of dried peppers will give the soup a special tang. It’s all a matter of blending the ingredients.”
At 8 o’clock the celebrants had arrived, adequately equipped with alcoholic liquid to do the occasion justice. With commendable patience they sat and waited. A bottle was uncorked. Talk of old times and other Chinese New Years filled the little restaurant.
And at the Hour of the Serpent the viands were brought forth, all steaming hot. All except the plate of boiled chicken, which must be cold and must be flavored with freshly prepared mustard and soy sauce. The skin of the chicken had the proper degree of yellow hue, signifying it was cooked just right, and the meat was snow-white.
There was a dish of fried prawns, large shrimps cooked in catsup in their shells until they took on the color of ripe tomatoes. Each prawn reposed on the plate in the shape of a red crescent moon.
There was barbecued spareribs—chopped into cubes and fried in deep fat and then poured over with gravy compounded of many condiments. Shredded green onions over the top gave the dish a touch of vivid color.
Then there were small shrimps finely diced and fried with several varieties of vegetables. It was a dish notable for its crunching crispiness and its colors of pink and green and brown.
There was a plate of crispy siu choy, the vegetable-that-looks-like-dragon-teeth. It wasn’t fried, as was the usual custom, but broiled to a crisp brown, them lightly fried with a portion of the pig’s stomach that was not used for soup. Siu Choy and chu tu—an unbeatable combination for crispiness and taste!
All these and wine too. Pvt Chan rose and toasted the gathering. The viands gradually vanished, though the soup bowls were replenished more then [sic] once. Pfc Moy, his moon-face now rosy, likewise proposed a toast. The wine bottle emptied.
When the Hour of the Rat was in its half-way mark, which is midnight, the good was all consumed. It was then that chef Quan came out form his kitchen nook. His eyes swept the empty dishes on the table, and his head nodded in satisfaction. Respectfully, the celebrants rose as one man and prevailed upon him to sip a toast to the coming year.
The Year of the Monkey was thus ushered in. The celebrants, though far from home, we're happy for the moment. The party was over.
....W. H.
Gung Ho, No. 12, March 10, 1944, said
Men of the 407th—Chan was discharged on January 4, 1946. He is on the U.S. Army Air Forces Final Registered List of the Chinese American World War II Veterans Recognition Project. His photograph appeared in The Memoir 1947 (see group 59) which was published by the Chick Char Club in San Francisco.
PFC CHAN HAS SEEN THE CHINA WAR
Of war and the ravages of war not a few EM of the 407th have had first-hand glimpses in their ancestral homeland in China. Most of these men saw its wanton cruelty and its terrific toll of human lives while they were students in high school and college in Canton. They saw the war as they fled their schools and homes, unarmed and totally unaided, before the juggernaut of the invading Japanese. In anger, in fury and in fear they witnessed the bombing of their village homes—homes that had weathered natural calamities for generations but couldn’t stand up in face of Japanese bombs. They saw their kins killed or maimed by bombs and strafing along open country because there weren’t any bomb shelters to protect them.
Pfc Thomas Chan also saw the war in China from a different angle. In fact, he did a few things to help many Chinese soldiers keep on fighting as they slowly retreated into the interior.
But Chan speaks little of his experiences between 1936–40 when he was in China. Like many others whose lives have been too much involved in the war, he takes refuge in silence. You realize why when you learn that his family, consisting of his mother, wife and two small children, are somewhere in the big district of Toyshan, in Canton—a spot constantly harassed by the Japanese invaders. Part of it is already occupied by the Japs, and the other part is extremely dangerous to the Chinese. The invaders have blockaded all supply routes into the district and have confiscated all the foodstuffs they could find. This fact, plus China’s uncontrollable currency inflation, have caused death by starvation of 40% of Toyshan’s population. The road into the mountainous vastness of Free China is long and hazardous, and few families are able to make the trek from the south.
At any rate, Chan was far from his Toyshan home in those years when Japan moved into China. Having taken a course in Diesel engineering in San Francisco, he returned to China and immediately got himself a job in a governmental unit up north. In ’37 Japan began its current assault on China, and Chan, still a civilian, moved into military units and became an expert repair and maintenance man for mobile Diesel engines.
He had more work than he could handle, for technical men were few. He also doubled in other capacities. For a time he was assistant to a Russian engineer in removing detonators from unexploded bombs released by Japanese airmen. At other times he assisted government scholars in translating engineering and technical terms into understandable Chinese. His knowledge of Mandarin dialect came in handy, and he moved all over the north, dodging the Japs with the same skill as the Chinese guerrillas. For a time he instructed a class of soldier-technicians so that more Diesel engineers could be made available.
Chan is in the U.S. Army now, but when the war ends there’s a job waiting for him in China, for a private concern with U.S.-China connections has offered him a job. And tentatively he has accepted.
—W. H.
….Glimpses: Pfc Thomas Chan found a quiet nook to read a book in—a mobile unit truck....he was catching up in the old country by scanning a “short History of the Chinese.”....
The status of his mother, wife and two children (mentioned in Gung Ho, No. 12, March 10, 1944) is not known.
Chan traveled to Hong Kong and married Tak Fong Yung on October 29, 1949. The couple was aboard the steamship President Wilson when it departed Hong Kong on November 5, 1951. They arrived at San Francisco on November 22, 1951. Chan’s address 869 Washington Street in San Francisco.
Chan’s wife was naturalized on August 9, 1955. Their address was 15 1/2 Banna Place in San Francisco. They had a son, Raymond.
Chan became a naturalized citizen on September 2, 1964. His address was 2383 East 22nd Street in Oakland, California. He was an aircraft engine worker. Chan had three children.
Chan passed away on February 27 2009. An obituary appeared at the Bay Area News Group.
Thomas W. Chan, 1914–2009, Resident of San Leandro
Passed away peacefully February 27, 2009 at the age of 95. Thomas was born January 21, 1914 in Canton, China. Survived by dearest wife Tak of 59 years. Loving father of Ngan Hing, Raymond (Mary) and Shirley (Malcolm). Cherished grand-father to 8 grandchildren, 8 great-grandchildren and 1 great-great-grandchild. Visitation Mar. 10, Tuesday 5:30-8:30 pm. Funeral March 11, Wednesday 1:30 pm. Chapel of the Chimes, 32992 Mission Blvd, in Hayward, CA (510) 471-3363.
WOODROW CHAN
Woodrow Wilson Chan was born on November 10, 1918 in Berkeley, California according to his World War II draft card. Chan’s middle name was revealed in his obituary.
In the 1920 United States census, Chan was the youngest of two children born to Harry and Mary. The family were Berkeley residents at 2327 Spaulding. His father was a farmer.
The 1930 census counted Chan as the second of five siblings. The family of seven were New York Chinatown residents at 33 Mott Street. His father was a restaurant supplies salesman. Chan’s mother was born in Singapore.
According to the 1940 census, Chan’s mother was a widow and head of the household. The family lived in Woodside, Queens, New York at 6911 Woodside Avenue. Chan was a high school graduate and waiter who earned $840 in 1939.
On October 16, 1940, Chan signed his draft card. His address was 69-11 Woodside Avenue which was later crossed out and updated to 3738 65th Street in Woodside. His description was five feet five inches, 120 pounds, with brown eyes and black hair.
Chan enlisted on June 6, 1942.
Chan was on page 72 of Chinese America: History and Perspectives 1993. In the Shadow of the Tiger listed Chan and his hometown in 1945 on page 213.
Woodrow Chan…..Woodside, New YorkOn page 19 of the book, Chan was in the 407th’s basketball team photograph.
The squadron’s publication, Gung Ho, No. 2, December 31, 1943, said
Basketball Game.Gung Ho, No. 4, January 14, 1944, said
Playing their 5th game this season, the 407th casaba team met the 912th Engrs Squadron Thursday in the field gymnasium. Considered the number one basketball tossers in Patterson Fld, the 912th defeated the 407th aggregation by a score of 40-21.
So far, in all the games played, the 407th team, managed by Sgt Woody Chan, has met up with keen and stiff competition, and this last game was no exception. In the 5th game just played the starting line-up consisted of Sgt William “Murphy” Quan (captain), Pfc Albert Fong, Pvt Ben Louie, Pvt Henry Wong (13), and Pvt Edward Chew. Other players include Cpl Wing H. Fong, Pfc John S. Leong, Pfc Howard Quan, Pvt Peter Gee, Pvt Edwin Chu, Sgt Woodrow Chan, Cpl Thomas Lee, Cpl Samuel Yee, Sgt Charles Lum, and Pfc Howard Loo.
Dept. of Romance & Similar Nonsenses:Gung Ho, No. 5, January 21, 1944, said
...while the Orderly Room long-noses want to know if it’s true that Sgt Woody Chan is married to a certain gal in Washington D.C.?....Hm...
…Sgt Woody Chan, pill roller of the outfit isn’t married....yet. But he sho’ is going to soon enough...his engagement ring is adorning the finger of Frances Wong of Washington D.C.....and Woooy [sic] has decided to plug in his personal phone calls wlsewhere [sic] than the orderly room...on account there’s been too many parties mooching on on his calls....Gung Ho, No. 7, February 4, 1944, said
From politeness to the postal system you can’t beat Sgt Woody Chan..when he writes to his fiancee in the nation’s capitol he puts these words on the envelope: “Airmail—please”Gung Ho, No. 9, February 18, 194, said
Casaba Tossing CelestialsGung Ho, No. 13, March 17, 1944, said
… We might mention in passing that Sgt. Woodrow Chan, the team’s manager, is from Long Island, N. Y. While properly manager Pfc Elwin Ong is also from Frisco. But we might add that Woody is a native-born Californian.
….A pic of a bevy of Chinese gals in Washington DC’s USO Jasmine Chapter appeared in the Shanghai Eve[ning] Post & Mercury (NY0 last week....and looking at the pic set Sgt Woody Chan’s heart fluttering....for why?...becuz ont [sic] of the lassies in it was his fiancee....Gung Ho, No. 14, March 24, 1944, said
….Sgt Woody Chan was the excited recipient of a long distance phone buzz t’other eve....from Washington DC....“from my mama,” he said afterwards....yeah, only his folks are in N’Yawk....so the Long islander was fibbing, thassall....Chan was discharged on January 10, 1946. He moved to Washington, DC.
The Evening Star, May 18, 1946, published a list of marriage license applications.
Woodrow Chan, 27, and Frances Wong, 24, both of 917 New York ave. n.w.They married on June 23, 1946 in Washington, DC.
The 1950 census said Chan, his wife, daughter, Carolyn, and son, Woodrow Jr., lived in Washington, DC at 312 11th Street S E. Chan worked in the field of hydrography for the Navy.
The Oakland Tribune (California), November 11, 2003, interviewed a few of the 407th veterans. At the time Chan was 85 years old.
Despite tough times, San Francisco resident Woodrow Chan, 85, said he tried to think of his World War II experience as a holiday. Drafted at age 26, he said he “felt not too good” at the time.Chan passed away on December 14, 2009, in San Francisco. An obituary appeared in the San Francisco Chronicle, December 20, 2009.
“But I felt lucky to be sent to China,” Chan said. “I had never been to the mainland. Although there were many hardships, I kind of thought of it as a vacation.”
Like many veterans, Chan used money from the GI Bill to attend college upon his return from the war. Signed in 1944 by President Franklin D. Roosevelt, the bill granted World War II veterans $500 a year for college. Chan studied business and opened a restaurant.
Woodrow Wilson Chan
At 91, died peacefully at home Monday, December 14. After a lifetime on the East Coast, Woody headed West in 1980 where he found his passion at Self Help for the Elderly. He is survived by the families of his son Roger and daughters Carollyn Philip, Debbie Larkin and Naydine Muschel. His son Woody, Jr. preceded him in death. Woody served with the US Army 407 Service Squadron in World War II. A visitation will be held at 11 AM with a Funeral Service at 12 Noon on Tues. Dec. 22, 2009 at Halsted N. Gray-Carew & English, 1123 Sutter St., SF. Interment Private.
(Next post Group 3: Chang–Chew)
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