A Brief History of the La Salette Mission in Burma
by Fr. William Doherty, M.S.
Published by La Salette Communication Center Publications
947 Park Street • Attleboro, MA 02703
508-431-2900 • Fax: 508-431-2901
Website: www.lasalette.org
November, 2012, Celebration of the 75th Anniversary of
the arrival of La Salette Missionaries in Burma
i
Those Who Served in Burma from 1937-1976:
1946-1976 John “Mike” L. Blumm (b. 1919, d. 2009)
1940-1957 Adrien DesMarais (b. 1903, d. 1977)
1947-1949 John Doherty (b. 1914. d. 1949)
1945-1965 William “Doc” Doherty (b. 1927, d. 2006)
1947-1975 Stephen G. Dressell (b. 1921, d. 2007)
1954-1956 James A. Droney (b. 1923, d. 1996)
1937-1942 John “Phil” Gardner (b. 1905, d. 1942)
1946-1976 Charles Gendron (b. 1917, d. 2005)
1946-1975 John B. Good (b. 1909, d. 1996)
1958-1964 James Hogan (b. 1929, d. 1993)
1954-1966 Joseph F. Kettner (b. 1924, d. 2002)
1937-1938 Joseph Labonté (b. 1905, d. 1970)
1938-1973 Francis Lucey (b. 1911, d. 1983)
1946-1958 James Mannering (b. 1915, d. 1981)
1946-1953 Charles McElhinny (b. 1919, d. 1971)
1937-1976 Thomas Newman, D.D. (b. 1903, d. 1978)
1957-1966 James Noonan (b. 1926, d. 1985)
1941-1973 John O’Reilly (b. 1915, d. 1973)
1937-1951 Edward O’Sullivan (b. 1910, d. 1951)
1938-1941 John Casimir Peredna (b. 1913, d. 1987)
1946-1975 Louis M. Perpete (b. 1916, d. 1999)
1947-1962 Raoul Pronovost (b. 1920, d. 1996)
1938-1942 Arsene Proulx (b. 1910, d. 1964)
1960-1966 Charles Rukus (b. 1929, d. 2010)
1937-1938 Wienczyslaw Weselak (b. 1908, d. 1938)
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Contents
Those Who Served in Burma from 1937-1976:
INTRODUCTION:
ii
iv
Chapter One: The Beginning: Burma 1937-1941
1
Chapter Two: The Beginning Of A Journey And A War
9
Chapter Three: War Comes To Burma – Prome 1941
15
Chapter Four: The War Years
20
Chapter Five: Free at Last
25
Chapter Six: A Cry for Help
30
Chapter Seven: These Are The Times...
37
Chapter Eight: A Time To Sow and a Time To Reap 44
Chapter Nine: The Darkest Hour Is Just Before Dawn
50
Chapter Ten: Faith and Trust Have Their Reward
56
Chapter Eleven: Mission Accomplished
59
POSTSCRIPT: by Bishop Thomas Newman, M.S., D.D.
64
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INTRODUCTION:
By Very Rev. Fr. Joseph G. Bachand, M.S.
It is a privilege to be able to write this Introduction for a number of reasons.
The primary reason will be obvious to anyone reading this book: the story of
the La Salette Missionaries in Burma (now Myanmar) is a heroic one. We La
Salettes have much to be proud of and much to be challenged by in the lives of
these men. Their sacrifice and dedication are inspiring.
A few months ago I was present at an international gathering of La Salettes. At
one of the Eucharistic liturgies we paid homage to the memory of the Missionaries who had served in Burma. The Missionary sitting next to me as we
watched their pictures projected on the wall said, “I didn’t realize how many La
Salettes served in Burma and for so many years!”
I got to make the personal acquaintance of a number of the men named within
these pages in their later years. Most were unprepossessing: simple and humble
priests – sometimes a bit eccentric – living in retirement. Whenever they spoke about Burma, however, they did so
with affection for the people. They did not miss the suffering and the hard times, but they always had a soft spot for
the people they had served.
I got to know one of these men better than the others, because Father John Good came to live in Ipswich, Massachusetts, at the same time I did. His pleasure over simple things that had been unavailable to him all his years in
Burma was contagious. He was “adopted” by a lot of the people who frequented the La Salette Shrine, his willingness to try anything making him an easy companion.
I also recall that from time to time, native Burmese, either visiting or now living in this country, who would stop to
look him up and invite him out to a Burmese restaurant. I realized that his approachability spanned the years and
the globe. He had forged connections that lasted, and this to me speaks a truth about ministry and about life that is
as relevant today.
I also find this a privilege because I have had the opportunity in recent years to meet some of our native Burmese
La Salette Missionaries. On the one hand, they are the “fruit” of a seed planted long ago – the result of evangelization and ministry that took place long before some of them were born. On the other hand, they are my confreres:
La Salette Missionaries continuing to live out the call to be ambassadors of reconciliation in today’s world. It is a
pleasure to share our mission and charism.
On a more personal note, this is a privilege because I have long noted how my own call to La Salette was connected
to the presence of Missionaries in Burma. Perhaps I would have ended up a La Salette Missionary just the same;
however, as a boy, it was the stories and photographs of the Missionaries in Burma that fired my imagination and
moved my heart. I thought then that one day I would be able to join them, and I always felt a bit unworthy to do so.
By the time I was ordained, it was no longer possible to fulfill this boyhood dream for reasons you will glimpse as
you read this book. However, this book is being published now because we are marking the Seventy-fifth Anniversary of the arrival of the first La Salette Missionaries to Burma. Although never being able to serve God’s people
in Burma, I will finally witness what La Salette Missionaries are doing there today as I attend the celebration of this
anniversary in November, 2012. The very fact of the “re-implantation” of La Salette on Burmese soil after years
of thinking that ground would remain forever fallow, causes me to marvel at God’s ways and rekindles hope that all
our efforts at making the Gospel known may bear fruit long after present La Salette Missionaries have gone to their
reward.
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I recall serving on the Provincial Council when Father William “Doc” Doherty first wrote his book on La Salette in
Burma back in the 1990s. He put it together from his own experience and the materials available to him at the time.
It was inspiring and informative then, and continues to be today, and I am very grateful that he put the time and
energy into weaving a narrative out of what he had available.
I am also grateful to Maureen Evans, who approached us with letters she saved from her uncle, Father John
O’Reilly, who had served many years in Burma. It had to be Providence that had Maureen contact us at this time,
allowing us to incorporate the personal reactions of Father O’Reilly into the present work.
Of course, that “incorporation” was done by our indefatigable Director of Communications, Father Ronald Gagné.
Claiming to be a “visual” person, he also pored over a veritable treasure of photographs from the years recounted
herein. The advance in technology since Father Doherty’s days (such as computers and scanners) has helped bring a
depth to his original work.
A thank you, also, to Sister Katherine Baker, CSJ, who, as archivist and executive secretary for our Province of La
Salette Missionaries, often acted as a most willing go-between and researcher so that this project might actually
come together.
Finally, a profound thanks to all my La Salette confreres, living and deceased, who kept the story of La Salette and
Burma alive in their minds and hearts, long before it was ever committed to paper. I believe our history gets written
into our “DNA,” and gives us the impetus to face present challenges with the fortitude handed down from those
who went before us.
And finally may God continue to bless our endeavors to be faithful to the call of Our Lady at La Salette, making
known the great hope of conversion and reconciliation to all God’s people. Perhaps future generations will find
something to celebrate in the seeds that being planted today. For now, it is enough to know they are planted.
God bless you.
Very Rev. Joseph G. Bachand, M.S.
Provincial Superior, Missionaries of Our Lady of La Salette
Province of Mary, Mother of the Americas
October 1, 2012, Feast of Saint Therese of the Child Jesus, Patroness of the Missions
v
CHAPTER ONE:
The Beginning: Burma 1937-1941
In early January 1937, Father Francis Kirby, M.S., the Provincial Superior of the American Province of the Missionaries of Our Lady of La Salette, received the sad and shocking
news of the death of Father Tom Mansfield. He died alone in a
remote village in Madagascar. He was not yet 30 years of age.
Father Kirby could not help but recall a classmate of his, Father
Alphonse Cote. He too was only 30 years of age when he died in
that same mission back in 1923.
Madagascar was a mission that held out so much hope and yet
brought so much frustration to the American La Salettes. They had
had hopes of establishing a mission they could call their own. But
because of political problems (Madagascar was a French colony) it
had simply not proved possible.
Finally a decision was made: the Americans would leave Madagascar and establish a mission of their own. In hindsight, no one ever
questioned the wisdom of that move. But how best to carry it out?
How does one acquire a mission? Years later Monsignor Newman
would remark, “We were new at this game. And perhaps not very
smart.” When they inquired from Rome, the La Salette Missionaries were put in touch with the Holy Cross Fathers of the Canadian
Province.
A pre-World War II map of the Arakan section of Burma,
our original mission area
The Holy Cross Fathers had a mission in India that extended into
the extreme southwestern section of Burma, an area called the
Arakan. Up to this point, this had not been a problem. The British, who ruled the area, considered Burma and India
as one. But in April of 1938, Burma and India were divided into two separate nations. Not surprisingly therefore,
the Holy Cross Community asked Rome to establish the Arakan as an independent mission. Rome agreed. The new
mission was offered to the Viatorian Fathers. At first they accepted, but later rejected this offer.
When the La Salettes appeared on the scene, the Holy Cross men were only too happy to welcome them. Their
leader, Bishop LaPailleur, proposed moving his headquarters from the city of Akyab in Burma, to Chittagong in
India. Then the La Salettes could take over Akyab as their center, and have the entire Arakan province as their mission.
To the La Salettes this sounded like a great idea. At last they would have a mission they could call their own. In accepting the Arakan district in Burma as a mission, the history of the La Salette Community in Burma began.
What the La Salettes did not realize at the time was how isolated the Arakan was from the rest of Burma. On the
west it was bordered by India, on the south by the Bay of Bengal; the rest of the Province was surrounded by a
range of mountains called the Arakan Yomas. In all, the area was just over 300 miles in length, and no more than 60
miles wide. The entire area is best pictured as crescent-shaped. Not only were the inhabitants cut off from Burma
proper, but they were in a location that seemed to have very little potential for growth. Here was a problem that
would have to be faced and solved as quickly as possible.
Now having a mission, the next question would be: among the volunteers, who would be the first men chosen to
serve there?
1
The first man chosen was Father Thomas Newman. When he was a novice back in 1923, he was asked to write
about his dreams and hopes for his future ministry as a priest.
He wrote that he would like to be a missionary. Together with
his brother John, he was ordained to the priesthood by Bishop
Gibbons in Albany, in 1929. Father John left almost immediately for the mission in Madagascar. On the other hand, Father
Tom went to Rome to further his studies in philosophy. By
1932, he had been appointed professor at the La Salette Seminary in Altamont, New York.
Provincial visits with La Salettes departing for Burma (L
to R): seated: Fr. F. Kirby, M.S., Provincial; Fr. T. Newman, M.S., Superior of new mission; standing: Frs. J.
Gardner, M.S., Fr. E. O’Sullivan, Fr. J. LaBonte, M.S.,
and Fr. W. Weselak, M.S.
He was 34 years of age and happy with his work when Father
Francis Kirby came to pay him a visit. Recalling that note he
wrote years before as a novice, Father Kirby now asked him not
only to go to the mission in Burma, but also to be the leader
of that first group. We still have on file a letter Father Tom
sent to the Provincial. In it he affirmed, “I'm volunteering for
the missions. Not to be the leader of the mission. If you find
among those who volunteer one who will fit the bill better than
I – Lord knows whether I fit the bill at all – then I trust that
you would feel free to appoint him.” Father Kirby responded by
naming Father Tom the Apostolic Vicar for the Burma mission.
The next selection was Father Ed O'Sullivan from Leominster, Massachusetts. He was only 27 years old. Like Father
Tom, he too was teaching at the seminary in Altamont. In the words of Father Landry, “He was a man who was
very exact about his religious life.” So it came as no surprise when he was named Religious Superior.
The third man, Father Wienczyslaw Weselak, just 28 years old, was born of Polish parents in Saskatchewan, Canada.
He was short in stature, but strong and able – a solid, dependable man of faith. Since his ordination in 1934, he had
been working in the mission field of western Canada.
Then came Father Joseph Gardner. “Joseph” was his baptismal name; in the community he was known as Phil. He came
from Leominster, Massachusetts. After his ordination in 1934,
he taught in the Apostolic School in Enfield, New Hampshire.
By nature he was a quiet, sensitive, caring person. In part these
very qualities would cost him his life.
The fifth and final selection was Father Joe LaBonte. Father
Landry would recall him as an excellent student, but one who
had a very nervous disposition – one who would find it difficult
to change. And what a change there would be from Hartford,
Connecticut, to Akyab, Burma!
There were two farewell celebrations – one in Altamont on
August 10, 1937, and the second in Hartford the next day.
Bp. McAuliffe of Hartford, Connecticut, with our first group
of La Salette Missionaries departing for Burma; (back row,
L to R): Fr. Edward O’Sullivan (1910-1951), Fr. Joseph
LaBonte (1905-1970), Fr. Wienczyslaw Weselak (19081938), Fr. Joseph (Phil) Gardner (1905-1942), and Fr.
Thomas Newman (1903-1978), Superior of new mission
During that second celebration a priest from the local chancery
raised the question of how a Religious Superior could appoint
Father Tom Apostolic Vicar. His understanding was that Rome alone could do that. Three days later, on August 14,
as their ship, the S.S. Champlain, set off down the Hudson, Father Newman opened a letter from Father Kirby. In it
Father Kirby cancelled his appointment of Father Newman as Apostolic Vicar, and Father O'Sullivan as religious
2
superior. He now simply named Father Tom Religious Superior. In a way it was a measure of the men that this
last-minute change never caused the slightest problem. Surely not
for Father Ed O'Sullivan, for now he could concentrate all his
efforts on his one real goal – becoming a true missionary.
Akyab Church where Fr. John O’Reilly was the prewar and post-world War II pastor
Over twenty years later when I went to Burma, it was simply a
matter of getting on a plane and arriving in Rangoon within a few
days. Not so in 1937. One travelled by boat – by freighter to be
exact. It was a long, slow, trip with many stops. Perhaps they made
a few extra stops along their way. They stopped in London, where
the La Salettes staffed two parishes; in Tournai, Belgium, for their
annual retreat; and, of course, in Rome itself. It was not until November 9 that they finally arrived in Akyab. We can smile now, but
there were those who questioned these religious for having made
this “grand tour” on their way to the missions. In light of the sacrifices they were making, and would soon be called upon to make,
they deserved every little break they could get.
Bishop LaPaillieur, together with his fellow Holy Cross Missionaries, welcomed the Americans to Burma. The
bishop was anxious to get these new men settled as soon as possible. Once the La Salettes could take hold of the
Arakan district, he would be able to move his men, as well as his headquarters, to Chittagong, India.
Father Tom was anxious too. He wanted to see for himself this new mission his community had accepted from the
Holy Cross Fathers. The mission itself consisted of the entire Arakan district. The area had a population of some
one million people; about 750 of these were Catholic. Not many. As for the mission itself, it was built around four
main mission posts.
The first post was in Akyab (now Sittwe) itself. The city of Akyab had a population of 35,000, of which only 265
were Catholic. The largest segment of the population was Indian.
Their language was Hindustani and they were mostly Hindu by
religion. It is interesting to note that the first language that Father
Tom studied was Hindustani. Next in size to the Indian population were the Anglo-British. Yet once you left Akyab and travelled
throughout the rest of the Arakan, Burmese was the language of
choice.
The second mission was in a town called Sandoway (now Thandwe). This was 185 miles southeast of Akyab. Since there were no
roads, one had to travel by boat to get there. Like Akyab, Sandoway had a small school staffed by English Sisters. They were
members of a community called Our Lady of the Missions.
School building in Chaungtha in the Sandoway district
Twenty miles to the south of Sandoway, there was a village called Gyeiktaw. This was the third post. It had a small
school staffed by native teachers. Another 35 miles further south was the last and, at the time, the largest of all the
mission posts. This was the village of Chaungtha with a Catholic population around 375.
After his initial inspection of the mission, Father Tom realized that he had three basic problems. First, because of
the mountain range, his mission was cut off completely from Burma proper. Second, the individual posts were far
apart. Because of a lack of roads and proper transportation, the men would be isolated. That would be hard for
them. Finally, as the mission now stood, there was little room for growth. The only solution was that the mission
would have to be extended.
3
First, however, Father Tom had to get his men settled. He assigned them to the various posts. With the help of the
remaining Holy Cross priests, they began to learn the language, the customs, and
whatever else it took to become acquainted with their new home.
They could not have chosen a better time to arrive, for this was the “cold season”. During the nights, the temperature was cool enough to sleep well, though
the afternoons were warm, very warm. In time they would acclimate to this
tropical weather.
At the far eastern part of the mission, one Holy Cross priest, Father Breen,
remained in Chaungtha to help Father Weselak take over his new post. In early
Chin girls carrying water
February, Father LaBonte came down from Gyeiktaw to join them. The three of
them took off together to visit the local Chin villages. The Chin people were a
race apart. They had a language of their own, but happily they also spoke Burmese. More than any other group,
they were open to conversion.
Later Father LaBonte would remark on the energy of Father Weselak. He was always in
the lead as they went from village to village. He had an untiring enthusiasm and a desire
to know the people and the area. In every way the trip was a success. Father LaBonte
returned to his post in Gyeiktaw. Yet before Father Breen could leave, Father Weselak
developed a fever. The cause? No one knew for sure. An urgent message was sent to
Father Tom in Sandoway. Since he was in bed with a bout of malaria, he sent Father Ed
O'Sullivan to bring comfort to his fellow missionary. By February 9, Father Tom received some good news about the condition of Father Weselak. So he felt free to return
to Akyab and bid farewell to the Bishop and the rest of the Holy Cross priests, who
were about to leave for India.
Fr. Wienczyslaw Weselak,
M.S. (1908-1938)
He arrived in Akyab on February 14, only to receive word that Father Weselak had died the day before. He was the
first La Salette to die in that far-off land. Years later Father Newman was still at a loss for words trying to express
his feelings of shock and sadness over this loss. “Bill, I just couldn't believe it. He was such a strong and able man.”
To add to his grief, Father Tom was unable to attend the funeral in Chaungtha.
There was more disappointing news to come. Father Joe LaBonte, try as he might, simply could not acclimate
himself to the life of the mission. So after six months, it was decided that, for the sake of his health and his future
ministry, it would be best if Father Joe returned to the States. He left in August of 1938. Now they were down to
just three men. But help was on the way: three more men had volunteered. They would be in Burma by Christmas.
Fathers Frank Lucey, Casimir Peredna and Arsene Proulx were the three
new missionaries. They left New York on November 5, 1938, travelling
by way of Europe. Later, Father “Doc” Lucey would laughingly recall
how, unlike that first group with their grand tour, they had to make a
thirty-day retreat in LaTronche, France. They arrived in Akyab shortly
before Christmas, December 13, to be exact.
Meanwhile Father Tom had been very busy. He was caught between two
bishops: the first, Bishop LaPaillieur in Chittagong, was anxious to send
the necessary papers to Rome to have the Arakan declared a Vicariate
Apostolic. As long as he remained responsible, he did not want any extension of the Arakan mission.
(L to R): Fr. Lucey, Msgr. Newman and Fr.
Proulx at one of their last reunions in Burma
Then there was Bishop Provost in Rangoon, the capital city of Burma.
4
He offered Father Tom all the territory on the western side of the Irrawady River. The Catholic population there
numbered over 10,000. Great. But Father Tom realized that to accept
that offer, he would need 10 more men. He really could not accept this
offer, but he dared not refuse, for he knew that any further extension
of his mission could only come with the help of Bishop Provost.
One means Father Tom used to keep good relations with both bishops
came by way of a priest in Boston, Massachusetts. His name was Father
Richard Cushing. At that time, Father Cushing was in charge of the
Propagation of the Faith for the Archdiocese of Boston. Father Cushing sent Mass stipends to Father Tom in abundance. So Father Tom
sent a share of the excess to both Bishops.
January 1939 – the Beginning of a New Year
With the arrival of the three new volunteers, Father Tom now had six
men in all - enough to cover the four mission posts and to free him to
deal with the many details of administration. He quickly realized how
little control he had over the decisions that would shape the future of
his mission.
Fr. Adrien DesMarais with native Burmese child
First there was the action of the Bishop in Chittagong. He sent a formal petition to Rome that the Arakan be
separated from the rest of his mission in India, and be established as a Prefecture Apostolic under the care of the
Missionaries of La Salette.
No sooner had he heard this, than Father Tom received word that Bishop Provost of Rangoon had also sent a petition to Rome. His petition requested that
an extensive area of his vicariate around Bassein be joined to the Arakan and
formed into a new prefecture. All this, of course, would be placed under the care
of the La Salettes. Father Tom could only sit on the sidelines, wait and wonder.
Now there was news from the States. One of Father Tom's greatest supporters
in the community, Father Paul Regan, had just been named the new Provincial
Superior. This was in April, and Father Tom hastened to write and congratulate
him. In a matter of months, he had another letter of congratulations to send:
Father Cushing had been ordained an auxiliary bishop of Boston.
Fr. Adrien DesMarais, M.S.; arriving
in Burma at the age of thirty-six, he
was the oldest of all our missionaries
in that mission
Some time in July, Father Tom heard the news that the petition of the Bishop of
Rangoon had been turned down by Rome. At least in this process, Father Tom
had kept a good, close relationship with Bishop Provost. This would serve him
well in the near future.
By September there was all kinds of news; some good, some bad. In Burma it
was the end of the monsoon season, but in Europe it was the start of World War
II. Of more immediate concern to Father Tom were the reports he had received
about Father Arsene Proulx. Of him he wrote to Father Regan, “He has had chronic bouts with malaria. The civil
surgeon has advised me that he does not have a constitution to live in this part of the world. I plan to return to
Akyab shortly and see for myself.”
Then some good news – another volunteer: Father Adrien DesMarais. The only La Salette born in Moscow - Idaho,
that is. He grew up in New Bedford, Massachusetts. At 36, he would be the oldest of all the missionaries. Because
5
of the way things were in Europe, he had to travel by way of the Pacific. And of all places, his boat stopped in
Japan on its way to Burma. “Demi”, as he was affectionately known
to his confreres, arrived in Rangoon in January 1940. He was assigned
to the post in Sandoway with Father “Doc” Lucey. The first thing he
did was travel south to Chaungtha to visit the grave of Father Weselak.
January 1940 – Fr. Newman becomes a Monsignor
The beginning of 1940 brought no word from Rome concerning the
status of the mission. In the meantime Bishop Provost in Rangoon
turned to Fr. Tom for help with problems of his own. He asked Msgr.
Tom to take over the districts of Prome and Thayetmyo. This was an
area on the northern part of his vicariate, directly opposite Sandoway.
Being on the other side of the Arakan mountains, these two districts were located in Burma proper. Fr. Tom agreed and sent Father
O'Sullivan to Prome. This was a temporary arrangement, to last only
a few months. But it gave Father Tom the opportunity to get a full
report on this area as a possible extension of his mission.
Monsignor Thomas Newman on tour preaching the
gospel and listening to the villagers
Bishop LaPaillieur was not at all pleased when he heard of this arrangement. Once again he reminded Fr. Tom that
he did not want any enlargement of the territory of the Arakan mission as long as he was responsible for it. In
regards to Thayetmyo, he added a warning in Latin, “Timeo Danaos, et Dona Ferentes.” [“I fear the Greeks even
when bearing gifts.”] But as Father Tom would add later in a letter to Father Paul Regan, “Couldn't the same be said
of his gift of the Arakan?”
There was some good news. Father Proulx seemed to be doing much better. The rest of the men all seemed fine,
developing their skills with the Burmese language.
Finally in August 1940 Fr. Tom received news from the Apostolic Delegate. On July 16, Rome had established the
Arakan into a Prefecture Apostolic. From now on Fr. Tom would be known as Monsignor. Twenty-two years later,
when he was ordained bishop, he called his men aside. “For all these years,” he said, “you have called me Monsignor.
Now if you were to call me Bishop, it just wouldn't sound right.” To this day the men who served with him refer to
him as “Monsignor”. The rest of the community remember him as Bishop Newman.
Now at last he was “master of his own ship”. No longer did he have to worry about the Bishop of Chittagong; he
could deal with the Bishop in Rangoon officially. So after clearing his plans with Father Regan, he went to see Bishop Provost. On September 13, he was able to write Father Regan, “I
have agreed in the name of the community to take over the whole of
the Prome and the Thayetmyo districts. That means 2,500 ready-made
Catholics. The Bishop and I drafted a letter to the Apostolic Delegate
asking him to secure the necessary authority from Rome. I've been to
Prome and Thayetmyo. It looks very promising, a great improvement
over the Arakan.”
Fr. John O’Reilly, here touring with his carriers, was a member of the second group of La
Salettes to depart for Burma
The Apostolic Delegate agreed to the proposal but added that, for the
present, the area should remain under the jurisdiction of the Bishop
of Rangoon. With that news Monsignor Newman assigned Fathers
Gardner and Proulx to serve in the Prome mission. As yet there was
no resident priest in Thayetmyo.
6
Now there was more good news – Father John O'Reilly, a man only 25 years old, was on his way. John was born in
Ireland and grew up in Belgium. It was there he first met the La Salettes. The story was told that his mother, having
just arrived in Belgium and not speaking French very well, sought the help of two American seminarians – Brother
Alphonse Dutil and Brother Arthur LeBlanc – for some directions. Later, when the family came to this country,
both John and his brother James entered the La Salette Seminary in Hartford, Connecticut. Father John arrived in
Akyab on January 28, 1941. As Monsignor greeted him, he was in fact greeting the one who would be his special
advisor and supporter in the years to come.
January 1941 – the War in the Pacific
At the start of 1941, Monsignor Newman had every reason to feel good
about his mission. Akyab itself was independent of the Bishop of Chittagong, a fact recognized by Rome. And with Thayetmyo and Prome, even
though they were not a part of his vicariate as such, he had a foothold in
Burma proper. Yet there was that war in Europe. It had spread to Western
Europe and Northern Africa; now it was in Russia as well. Where would it
all end?
(At this time there was another disappointment. Father Casimir Peredna,
who had been doing so well in learning the language, had to return to the
States, because of difficulties with his passport and other matters.)
Fifty years and more after the war, it may seem easy for us to understand
what the Japanese had in mind. But at that time Americans, especially our
political and military leaders, were not aware what was about to happen.
Yet, Monsignor kept himself well-informed. For him the possibility of war
Fr. (John) Casimir Peredna (1913-1987)
vested for Mass as subdeacon
in the Pacific was ever a reality. Hence he was able to write Father Regan in
April, 1941, concerning finances, “If the present conflict involves the U.S.A.
in the Pacific, with all the mails cut off, it is difficult to see what we could do...”
Later in May, in regards to personnel, he wrote, "Just a hurried note to ask if it be a good idea to send the three
young priests immediately, before any outbreak of war in the Pacific closes that route of travel. That would mean
a postponement of any new recruits for a couple of years. And that would set back
the development of the mission a great deal."
In his mind the Japanese would drive south. They had already occupied French
Indo-China (Vietnam). Now they simply had to pass the Philippines and march on
to the Dutch East Indies. There they would find the oil they so desperately needed.
It seemed unreasonable to him that they would turn west – through Thailand and
Burma and on to India.
Back in Hartford Father Regan, the Provincial Superior, was of one mind with Monsignor Newman. He gave him his full support. He personally went about collecting
funds for the missions, and encouraged young men to consider for themselves the
life of a missionary. As a result, early that summer he was able to write the men in
Burma about the three newest volunteers.
Fr. Paul Regan, M.S., (18971943) Provincial Superior
It was in the fall of 1941 that Fathers Joe Decoteau, John Doherty, and Fred Julien
left for Burma by way of California. They stopped in Hawaii and then, about December 1, sailed for the Philippines. Later Father Joe would recall how they passed the Japanese fleet during the
night before they arrived in Manila. There they decided to spend a few days. But those “few days” would turn into
7
years.
On December 7, 1941, what Monsignor hoped would never happen, happened. America was at war with Japan. As
for the mission itself and the men there, he felt secure. He could not imagine the Japanese coming into Burma in
the first place. Moreover, he had assurances from British authorities that there was no cause for alarm. Then again
he knew of American soldiers in Rangoon.
He was concerned about those three new recruits. He knew that they had reached Hawaii. But did they ever reach
the Philippines? Were they still aboard ship? Were they safe? It would be a long time before he found out. Then, in a
matter of weeks, Singapore fell, and the Japanese army turned west. Now the nightmare became a reality.
8
CHAPTER TWO:
The Beginning Of A Journey And A War
Prior to the Second World War, the average American from New England might have considered a vacation to
Atlantic City, New Jersey, or Niagara Falls, New York, to be exciting and far from home. Needless to say there was
great excitement at the La Salette Seminary in Hartford,
Connecticut, when three young men were about to journey to the other side of the world. The three recently
ordained priests were on their way to Burma. The excitement was real, not only because of their destination,
“the mysterious Orient”, or because their return – if
ever – would be at least 10 years away, but also because
of the very real threat of war. And if that war did come,
it would come to the Pacific, the very area through
which these men were to travel.
At the time, Japan was at war with China. The American
government, favoring China, had recently cut off all
Fr. Regan (far left) bids farewell to the third group of La Salette
Japanese oil supplies from Southeast Asia. Without oil,
Missionaries heading to Burma in 1941, (L to R) Frs. Joe Decothe Japanese could no longer carry on that war. Relateau, Fred Julien and John Doherty; the missionaries however
tions between these two nations had reached a breaking were captured en route and spent two years in a Japanese Prison
Camp in the Philippines
point. With all this in mind, it was with the deepest
feelings of love, concern and affection that the families
and friends of these young men joined the members of the La Salette community to bid them farewell on a day late
in October 1941.
The three young missionaries, Fathers Joe Decoteau, Fred Julien and John Doherty – the one they called “Jib” –
were on their way. They crossed the country by rail. As luck would have it, there was a group of U.S. Army technicians traveling with them. These men, thirty in number,
were also traveling to Burma. Their task: to help build the
Burma road. That was the famous road on which military
supplies were carried into China.
As the train rolled west, Father Fred became friendly with
Captain Jones, the officer in charge. He warned the priests
not to board the ship, since there would be a war before
they reached Burma. Father Fred later remarked, “This
was the first time that we became aware that war might be
declared. But since our schedules had all been arranged
for us, we felt that we should continue.”
In San Francisco they spent a few days visiting the
brother of Father DesMarais, and collecting their belongings. Finally, on November 9, 1941, with feelings of great
anticipation and anxiety, they boarded the S.S. Grant and set sail under the newly-opened Golden Gate Bridge out
onto the wide Pacific.
Opening day of San Francisco’s Golden Gate Bridge to pedestrians, May 27, 1937
It took a full week for the S.S. Grant to reach the territory known as America's Paradise, the Hawaiian Islands. Here
they were scheduled to stop for only six hours. However, as their ship was mooring, a cable broke, killing two men.
9
Because of the accident and the settling of the insurance involved, the ship was held over for several days. So our
La Salette Missionaries had the time to enjoy the food, the climate, and above all else, the beauty of the Islands.
They saw the great American fleet at Pearl Harbor. That alone should have been a guarantee of peace. Moreover,
they had heard some really good news: the Japanese government had just sent a delegation to Washington to seek
out some common ground for an understanding between themselves and the Americans.
Now perhaps they could continue their journey in
peace. But once again, Captain Jones urged them
to leave and return to the States. To prove to them
that he knew what he was talking about, he told
them that once they left Hawaii, their ship would
become part of a convoy.
Manila Harbor before World War II: the Bataan Peninsula, partly shrouded in fog and clouds, is visible twenty-five miles across Manila Bay
Sure enough, everything happened as the Captain
said. Five ships, plus an armed cruiser, formed the
convoy. The cruiser had a spotter plane to send up
each day. One week out of Hawaii, the entire convoy took a sudden turn left: the plane had spotted
a large Japanese fleet. The missionaries could only
wonder what in the world that fleet was doing so
far south, so close to the Philippines.
By December 4, 1941, they had begun their approach to the city of Manila. On board the ship some local Filipinos
pointed out with pride some of the various landmarks. One young lad, talking to Father Joe, indicated a huge, black
rock of an island. “That,” he said, “is Corregidor, the famous naval base which protects Manila.” Thinking to himself, Father Joe reflected that it couldn't be all that famous, since he had never heard of it. Beyond that there was a
place called Bataan. He hadn't heard of that either. But he and all the others had heard of the famous Pier VII, the
longest dock in the world. It was here, late on a Thursday afternoon, that their ship finally came to a halt.
According to plans, they would be leaving on Saturday, December 6. That left them but one full day to tour the city
and see whatever they could. The Philippine Islands, conquered
originally by the Spanish, had readily accepted and adopted
Christianity. Yet, because of the harshness of Spanish rule, the
people rejected much of what Spain had to offer. As these three
young men walked the streets of Manila, they could see so many
reminders of those colonial times in the buildings, the churches,
and particularly, in the University of Santo Tomas. This University had opened its doors almost fifty years before the Pilgrims
had landed on Plymouth Rock. After 350 years, the Spanish had
left their mark. Now the Americans were leaving theirs. In a
year's time, however, these islands would become an independent nation.
S.S. Grant (1907-1948) was involved in both World War
I and II
That evening they received what they thought to be good news:
their ship was to be delayed for a few days. Wonderful! This
would give them the time to tour the rest of the city and even some of the country. But before they left, Captain
Jones once again came for a visit. The S.S. Wilson was docked next to their ship in the harbor. The Burma Road
men had transferred over to the Wilson; now Captain Jones begged the priests to transfer as well. But, as Father Joe
said, “We didn't figure that there was any rush. And after all, all our goods were in the hold of the S.S. Grant. Transferring would cause too much confusion.” They headed back into the city as the S.S. Wilson headed out to sea.
10
Sunday, Dec. 7, 1941
The following day, Sunday, December 7, was a quiet, peaceful day. Recall that before reaching Manila the men had
crossed the International Date Line. For them, this day would be the calm before the storm. Together they went to
Mass. The Mass was in Latin, of course, for this was long before the Second Vatican Council. In the course of the
Mass there was a little reminder of what it meant to be a missionary, for the sermon was in Spanish, a language
none of them understood. Afterwards, leisurely touring and admiring the beauty of this very unique city, they could
never have imagined the destruction and horror that was about to fall upon these people.
Monday, December 8. Since their ship was not about to
leave, they headed to the local church to celebrate the
Feast of the Immaculate Conception. It was there at
Mass they heard the news that Pearl Harbor had been
bombed. America was at war. Quickly they returned to
their ship. Surely she would be leaving, a departure they
didn't want to miss.
But this was not to be. They were told that, because of
the war, their ship had to be repainted. In the meantime
all the passengers were asked to take their personal beThe Jesuit College in Pedro Gil, known as the Ateneo De Manila longings ashore. In a few days, when all was ready, they
would be called back. Later Father Joe remarked, “Jib
and I were trusting souls. We took them at their word. Not so Father Fred. He just didn't believe them.”
Father Fred wasted no time looking for a place to stay. He found a warm welcome at the Jesuit College, known as
the Ateneo De Manila. In no time at all, the S.S. Grant had disappeared, leaving all its passengers and half its crew
stranded ashore.
Without any immediate hope for continuing their journey to Burma, they now sought some ministry in the city.
From the local bishop, Archbishop O'Doherty, they received their “faculties”, that is, his permission to minister in
his diocese. Within days, they had all the ministry they could possibly handle, for the war had come to the city of
Manila.
By the Tenth of the month, Japanese bombers appeared over Manila. Casualties by the hundreds were pouring into
the local hospitals. Directly across from the Ateneo was the Philippine General Hospital. There Fathers Fred and
Joe volunteered as chaplains. Father John Doherty, on the other hand, moved out of the Ateneo to Santa Scholastica College. Here the buildings had been turned into a naval hospital. “Jib” now became their chaplain.
Soon it became apparent that the American and Philippine
soldiers were no match for the Japanese Army. By Christmas,
Manila was declared an “open city”. Even then the bombings
continued. The defenders were forced to flee to Bataan or Corregidor.
1942 – the Japanese in Manila
On January 2, 1942, the Japanese occupied the city of Manila.
These were heady days for the Japanese. Their armed forces had
secured victory after victory. On top of that, they had their own
rumors; for example, that the Japanese army had invaded the
West Coast of the United States or that their troops were not far
11
Japanese soldiers march into Manila
from the city of Chicago. And so with all these stories and more, the average Japanese soldier was puzzled. They
wondered, “since the Americans have obviously lost the war, why haven't they surrendered?”
The Japanese were in a position to be generous to their
civilian prisoners at the Ateneo and elsewhere. And so
they were. Both Fathers Fred and Joe were allowed to
continue their work as chaplains at the General Hospital,
and, on occasion, to visit in the city itself. They were, in
effect, simply under house arrest.
Not so with Father Doherty. He was working in a military hospital at the time of his capture. He was therefore
a military prisoner. Before long he was moved to Santo
Tomas, now converted into a military prison. Not only
was he separated from his confreres, but his living conditions were very harsh. Before long, his health began to
suffer.
Prisoners rest briefly while on the march from Bataan, Philippines, to the prison camp run by the Japanese, May 1942
(Photo: U.S. National Archives)
In their relationship with the native populations, the
Japanese made mistakes that they were to repeat in country after country. They saw themselves as liberators, and
demanded signs of gratitude. They saw themselves and their culture as superior to all others, in effect looking down
upon the local people and their culture. Above all else, it was the cruelty shown to the prisoners of Bataan and Corregidor, combined with countless acts of torture and humiliation inflicted upon the average innocent person that
turned the people against the Japanese. Not long ago I talked to a man who was only four or five years of age at the
time of the invasion. To this day he can recall some of the terrible things done to the people of his village. In light
of all this, it was only natural that the people would turn against the invaders and long for the day of their liberation.
From the very beginning there were guerrillas, American and Philippine soldiers, operating in the hills and in the
countryside. They were supported by the people living in the cities. Father Fred, never one to stand by idly, became
involved with their efforts. Notes from the guerrillas were sent to him at times quite indiscreetly, to say the least. On
occasion these notes contained his name and address. If ever he had been discovered or even been suspected to
have any relations with the guerrillas, the Japanese would have had no mercy.
In time, Father Doherty, suffering from ulcers and
other ailments, was moved to the General Hospital.
For a time after that he was able to remain at the
Ateneo. Later he was returned to the military prison
at Santo Tomas.
The Prison Camp – Los Banos
As the tide of war slowly turned against the Japanese, their attitude toward the prisoners, even the
civilian prisoners, began to harden. In time, these
civilians – missionaries, travelers, merchants, newspaper people, etc. – were all rounded up and sent
to a place called Los Banos. This was an area well
out in the country, about 40 miles north of Manila.
No longer were they just under “house arrest”; they
Liberation of Los Banos
12
were now in a real prison camp. In all there were more than 2,100 people surrounded by barbed wire and armed
guards. From then on, there would be no question of contact with the native people. They were indeed totally isolated.
Even here living conditions were not that bad at first but this changed very quickly. By October 1944, they were
reduced to a starvation diet. On New Year's Day 1945, American planes had passed over the camp. For the prisoners, this could mean only one thing: their day of liberation could not be far off. However, the Japanese, in their
anger and frustration, would let the food rot on the ground before offering it to the prisoners. Starvation and death
became terrible realities.
February 23. The prisoners, who numbered over two thousand, were unaware that orders had been given by which
they were all to be massacred that very evening. Yet at dawn that day, American planes once again flew over the
camp, this time a little lower and slower. Suddenly the sky was filled with parachutes. As the Japanese guards raised
the alarm, the prison gates were broken open. Philippine guerrillas came charging through and the battle began. It
lasted less than an hour. Among the prisoners, one girl was slightly injured. Among the liberating forces, there were
two casualties. None of the Japanese survived.
For as long as they will live, none of those prisoners will forget their “liberation” day. For Fathers Joe and Fred,
their joy was complete when they heard that their fellow missionary, Father John Doherty, had been rescued two
weeks earlier, on February 6, at Santo Tomas.
Each of these men paid a price for those three years of captivity. Father Joe had left the States a young and strong
man at 175 pounds. He was now just 106 pounds. Even at that, he was ten pounds heavier than Father Fred. As for
Father Doherty, even upon his return home, his health continued to be a cause of concern.
Back in the States, the news of their release brought about scenes of heartfelt joy and celebrations among their
families and the entire La Salette Community. Father Fred wrote home, “It's wonderful to be free, in American
hands, and with something to eat.”
The Following Years
In the years that followed, what happened to those three young men? Upon returning to Hartford, Father Doherty was advised by doctors never to go to the missions.
For whatever medical reason, the nature of which I don't know, one doctor told him
bluntly that he wouldn't last six months in a place like Burma. He was then stationed
in London, England, where he received the same advice. But his desire was to be a
missionary and he was not to be denied. Later on, we will pick up his story.
Having returned to the States, Father Joe Decouteau was never given another opportunity to serve in the missions. Instead he spent years teaching in the La Salette
Seminaries, both at the high school and, later on, at the college level. Finally he was
assigned to parish work. Somewhere along the line, Father Joe must have found
the mythical fountain of youth. In 1996 you could find him in Sulphur, Louisiana,
where he was pastor of a very active parish of some 700 families which he ran all by
himself.
As for Father Julien, he fell in love with the Philippines, both the country and the
people. When he returned to the States, the original La Salette Province here had
been divided in two. One Province was headquartered in Hartford, Connecticut, and
was fully committed to the mission in Burma. So Father Fred wrote to the administration of the second province, located in Attleboro, Massachusetts.
13
Fr. Fred Julien, M.S., (1910-2000)
established and expanded the La
Salette Shrine in Silang, Cavite,
Philippines
Among his many qualities, Father Fred is a great salesman. He convinced the people in Attleboro of the great opportunity they had to open a mission in the Philippine Islands. All that he promised came true. Now, instead of a
mission in the Philippines, one can find a thriving and expanding La Salette Province. Close to Manila, there is a
seminary where one finds students not only from the Islands, but from all over that part of the world including, at
one time, students from Burma.
There is a saying that “God writes straight with crooked lines.” The story of the La Salettes in the Philippines is just
about as crooked a line that the Good Lord has ever drawn. But for his purpose, it was straight on.
As for Father Fred, after years working in the Philippines and on behalf of that mission in this country, he returned
to spend his final years in his adopted country.
14
CHAPTER THREE:
War Comes To Burma – Prome 1941
In November 1941 all the Missionaries of La Salette
in Burma gathered together in Akyab for their annual retreat. This was a time not only for spiritual
renewal but also to relax and enjoy each other's
company; and at last it was a time to get caught up
with all the latest news.
For the Missionaries the most important item had
to be any news about those three new men. How
soon would they get here? With whom would they
be stationed? Surely they must have talked about the
war and the very real possibility that America would
be involved. As they envisioned it, such a war would
cut off all their communications with home. That
would make living difficult but not impossible. We
have no record of them making any contingency
plans if in fact the Japanese did invade Burma. At
the end of their retreat, they exchanged farewells
and returned to their posts. Little did they realize
that this would be their last gathering.
Father “Phil” Gardner and Father Proulx returned
to Prome. Even though Arsene's health had greatly
improved, Monsignor Tom Newman was still concerned about him. For that reason he had stationed
him in Prome with Father Gardner. He felt that the
climate there would be better and that Father Phil
would be a caring companion.
Together they crossed over the mountains, the Arakan Yomas through the Taungup Pass, leaving the
Arakan (presently referred to as the Rakhine State),
and entering the heartland of Burma. Descending
the mountains they reached the Irrawaddy River.
Crossing the river, they finally reached their home.
This trip from Akyab to Prome took more than a
week.
Map of the Arakan, presently known as Rakhine State; Taungup Pass
is indicated in the southeast of this state
They had hardly arrived when the war started. In
early January they received a letter from Monsignor Newman. This would be their last communication from him or
any of the other men on the Arakan side of the mountains. In his letter Monsignor cancelled the trip to Prome that
he had planned for Confirmation during Easter time. The war had taken an unexpected turn; the Japanese army had
turned west.
In his letter, Monsignor stated his intentions in the face of a possible invasion of the Arakan: he would stay put
– come what may. Knowing the Monsignor, I doubt that he would ever order his men to do the same. Yet having
stated his intentions, he implied what he expected of them. They were to use good judgement – yet never forgetting
15
that they had freely volunteered themselves as missionaries and this was their mission.
Japanese and Burmese Independence Army Joined Forces
To understand what happened next, one should realize what the Japanese had in mind. By marching through Thailand, Burma and onto the Indian border, they had every reason to believe that the people of India would once again
rise in revolt against British rule. If this happened, England would have no means of putting down such an uprising
and the British Empire would be destroyed. In order to move through
Burma quickly, the Japanese army practiced a reign of terror.
The Burmese had been ruled by the British for almost a hundred
years and wanted their independence. Prior to the war, a group of
some thirty university students went to Japan to train for war. Their
leader was Aung San. (His daughter, Aung San Suu Kyi, was elected
president of Burma.) They were the core, the nucleus of the Burmese
Independence Army, the BIA.
As the Japanese army entered Burma, these Burman leaders gathered
together a rag-tag, undisciplined army to join the Japanese in fighting
the British. And if the Japanese terrorized for a military purpose, the
BIA would terrorize out of a sense of vengeance: anyone who was
English or Indian was fair game.
Bogyoke (“General”) Aung San (1915-1947) was
Sheer panic drove people by the thousands from Burma to the safety instrumental in forming the Union of Burma comof India. From Rangoon, either by boat up the Irrawaddy River or
posed of the major tribes of the country
by rail, people came first to Prome. From there they could continue
to Mandalay. The two priests in Prome did all they could to help, but
their resources were limited. They heard the stories of the many atrocities, the willful acts of torture and murder
inflicted upon the helpless civilians – British or Indian – by the invading armies who gave neither quarter nor mercy.
Father “Phil” Gardner
Finally in mid-March a small group of nuns arrived in Prome. They too were
in need of help. Now Father Gardner had a hard decision to make. I'm sure he
wanted to remain at his post yet he felt that these nuns should not be left to
fend for themselves. There was also his concern for Father Proulx. Physically he
seemed fine but all those horror stories he had heard and the refugees’ obvious panic had unnerved him. He seemed more and more withdrawn, unable to
cope.
So out of concern for the nuns and for Father Proulx, Father “Phil” felt that he
had to take some action. He took the nuns along with Father Proulx, plus some
church goods and records (i.e., baptismal records, etc.) and headed north almost
300 miles to Mandalay.
Arriving there, he went immediately to the residence of the local bishop, Bishop
Faliere, to seek his advice. He explained why he had left his mission in Prome,
the presence of the nuns, his concern for his fellow priest, and finally his desire
for a place of safekeeping for the church goods and records.
Fr. Philip Gardner, M.S. (1905-1942)
The Bishop received the nuns and took the records but he ordered the two American missionaries back to their
posts. Easy for him to say. He was a French citizen, and the French were allies of the Japanese. But what would be
16
the fate of these two Americans at the hands of the Japanese? Perhaps he never gave that a thought. One can only
wonder if he ever took a close look at Father Proulx.
In any case, having been told to return to his post, Father Phil Gardner never hesitated. He and Father Arcene Proulx boarded the first available launch and headed
south, down the Irrawaddy to Prome. Later we learned what happened to those
church goods and records left in the “safekeeping” of the Bishop of Mandalay.
Within two weeks his residence was bombed by the Japanese and everything inside
was lost.
Going down the river was quick enough. Yet when they reached a town called Alanmyo, just 40 miles north of Prome, the ship's captain would go no further. He had
heard that the Japanese were coming up the river and were about to enter Prome.
So they left the boat and traveled no more than two miles south. Too bad, for later
that same day a boat filled with retreating British soldiers stopped in Alanmyo. On
board there was a Columban missionary serving as chaplain. As he told me later, he
was in fact looking for these two men, hoping to bring them to safety.
Fr. Arcene Proulx, M.S. (19101964)
Father Gardner now asked Father Proulx to remain in that little village along the Prome road and watch over their
baggage while he went to a second village to get help to complete their journey. This village was called Swethathay, a
Chin village. Here were a number of Catholics and he knew that he could get all the help he needed. The day he left
was Friday, April 4. It happened to be Good Friday.
How long Father Proulx waited in that village alongside the road to Prome we'll never know. Just what happened
next? We can only guess. Some kind, caring people must have taken him north for shortly thereafter he reached a
town called Lashio in northern Burma. This town is far up in the Kachin hills, a distance of at least seven hundred
miles from Prome.
Fortunately he was found by yet another Columban priest, a man from New Zealand by the name of Barney Way.
Years later Father Way told me what happened. “The poor man,” he said, “was really out of his mind. I was worried
about him. If the Japanese had ever caught him, he would never have lasted long. So I used my last 100 Kyat note to
bribe the pilot of the last plane leaving for India to take him aboard. You'll never know the relief I felt when I
watched that plane take off with him.” Then he laughed and added, “Afterwards I found out that the plane had
been sent to pick up any remaining Americans.”
Father Proulx did arrive safely in Dacca, India. He spent the rest of the war under the care of the Holy Cross Fathers in Chittagong. At the end of the war, he was able to get passage back to the States. To be honest, he never did fully recover
from his war-time experiences.
Akyab, January 1942
The Japanese army had turned west. From French Indochina
(a federation of Vietnam, Cambodia and Laos) they marched
through Thailand. By early January their forces had infiltrated to
the Thai-Burma border. A new element appeared on the scene.
Those former university students had formed their independence
army, the BIA. They became the spearhead of the oncoming
Akyab harbor and its lighthouse called The Point
invasion. The allied army, few in number, were simply unable to
organize any meaningful resistance. By the end of January, the BIA together with the Japanese army were closing in
on Rangoon.
17
In Akyab, Monsignor Tom wrote a letter to his men in Prome. Then he sent Father John O'Reilly with money and
supplies to the three men in the eastern part of the Arakan. They all gathered in Sandoway. Father Ed O'Sullivan
came up from Chungtha, Father DesMarais from Gyeiktaw, and Father Lucey played host in Sandoway.
None doubted the direction of the war. Once Rangoon had fallen, the
invaders would cross the mountains and head their way. All agreed that
they would stay. Various ideas were tossed about as to what they should
do. Even the idea of hiding out and working from the jungle occurred to
them but that really didn't make sense. Finally they agreed that all three,
together with the five Sisters, would remain together in Sandoway. They
had hopes that somehow they would be allowed to continue their work.
Wishing each in turn a fond farewell and God's blessings, Father John
returned to Akyab.
For us it may seem rather naive to think that these three American priests
could even dare to dream of carrying on their missionary work during
the Japanese occupation yet they had a basis for this hope. Father Lucey
had lived and worked for three years in Sandoway. He knew the people
and they, whether Christian or not, knew him. These people of Sandoway
were either Burman or Chin. Unlike the Indians or the Anglos, they were
native to the land. And it was on their good will that Father Lucey placed
his hopes.
Japanese Army on the border of Burma
By March 8, Rangoon had fallen. With that defeat the escape route by way of Prome was closed. Now the only
alternate route remaining would be over the mountains and through the Arakan. Desperately the refugees would try
to keep ahead of the advancing Japanese army. Along the way they were victimized by dacoits, who would rob, beat
and murder them. Their goal was to reach the city of Akyab. Once there the British would ferry them by boat to the
safety of India.
By the first week of April, the Burman troops arrived in Sandoway. To demonstrate their authority and independence, they quickly formed a local civil government. Once
Father Lucey had heard of this, he wasted no time in presenting
himself to this newly organized council. He told them who he
was and also about the work he wished to carry on.
At first they weren't sure just how to answer him. Finally they
ordered him to return to his mission post. Together with the
other two priests and the five nuns, they were to remain there
for the present. Father Lucey was further advised to keep out of
sight of the Japanese. So far so good.
British bombing mission over Burma
That little mission compound in Sandoway was located on a hill
overlooking the town itself. Their church, recently built with
money obtained from the newly ordained Bishop in Boston, was
the pride and joy of all the mission.
The following day Burmese officials came to search the mission for arms, radios, transmitters, etc. Satisfied that
there was nothing there, they left. In no way did they ever mistreat the missionaries. When they left the compound,
the priests and the nuns were simply under house arrest. The local people were still able to come to the church for
whatever help they needed.
18
The Pressures of War
All was well until April 24. On this day British planes flew over and in fact bombed the town of Sandoway. The
Japanese, convinced that those Americans up on the hill must have had a radio transmitter hidden away somewhere,
would take no chances. All the priests were taken from the mission and brought to the local jail.
But even here life wasn't as bad as it might have
been. In jail they had their own cook prepare their
meals. Each Sunday, they were able to return to the
church for the Sunday services. Thus they were to
remain for four months. The good will that Father
Lucey had built up among the local population was
indeed a shield of protection.
Akyab was a different story. As we have noted, the
local population was Indian with a small percentage of Anglo-Burman. In the eyes of the Burmans, the Westerners were the colonizers, the very
ones the BIA wanted to drive out of Burma. With
the fall of Rangoon, they fled to India. Then came
the horde of refugees. By the thousands Indians,
Anglos and even some British arrived in Akyab.
The British did all they could to help the refugees
on that last leg of their journey to India.
Bawgyo railroad bridge destroyed by Allied Forces to interfere with
Japanese movement into Northeastern Burma. (Photo: Courtesy of U.S.
National Archives)
By the end of April the tide of refugees had
passed. Most of the Arakan had been conquered by the invaders. The city had been bombed a number of times.
In fact on Good Friday, Monsignor's house was all but destroyed. When the nuns commiserated with him over his
loss, he responded with, “I really didn't like the place anyway. I would rather build my own place.” For their safety,
Monsignor Newman now ordered the four nuns to leave for India and so they did. A few days later, however, feeling guilty about leaving Monsignor and Father John O'Reilly behind, they returned.
On the night of May 3, the last of the British forces was about to evacuate Akyab. Father John took advantage of
that by sending a final letter to his mother. “This opportunity of writing will probably be my last for a long time,”
he wrote. “The Japanese have overrun most of Burma and are laying siege to Akyab. We have had some air raids,
but, thank God, we have escaped injury... We of course are staying on because we cannot abandon our missionary
work just because of the present crisis. We are doing God's work and we know that he will protect us. Please don't
worry about me, therefore, even if you don't hear from me for some time. I am perfectly at peace in spite of all the
dangers.”
On May 4, Monsignor Tom Newman and Father John O’Reilly stood side by side on the veranda of what was left
of their house. They had already exchanged blessings – absolutions – and now awaited the arrival of the victorious
army. Unlike Sandoway, there would be no native population to offer them a shield of protection. They would be
very much on their own.
It was the Burman army, partly frustrated because the British army had fled without a fight that now entered the
city. They marched through Akyab to the small airport and finally to the Catholic mission compound. At last they
saw the two “Englishmen” standing in front of their house with their hands raised in a sign of surrender. War is hell
and these two American missionaries were about to fall into the very depths of that hell.
19
CHAPTER FOUR:
The War Years
In India at that time there was a Redemptorist priest, Father Bill Carroll. He gave missions and retreats throughout
that part of the world. In November of 1941, he was the one who preached for the La Salette Missionaries during
their annual retreat in Akyab. Because of the
hospitality and kindness they had shown him,
Father Carroll felt close to the Missionaries. When the war started, he knew of their
determination to remain at their posts. So in
the years that followed, he sought out every
bit of information about what might have
happened to them. Three years passed before
he was able to write to the La Salette Community about the events of that fateful day in
May 1942.
He described how two hundred soldiers of
the BIA surrounded the rectory next to the
Catholic Church. Pointing their machine
guns, rifles, and dahs (a long sword-like knife)
at the two priests standing with their hands
raised on the front veranda, they approached
cautiously. Yet once they realized that these
two men were all alone and unarmed, they
Newspaper diagram of Japanese invasion and capture of Akyab, Burma
fell upon them. As Father Carroll expressed
it, “They treated them in a most shameful
manner.” Their cassocks were torn from their backs and the cloth was used to bind their hands. They were beaten,
kicked and tossed on the ground. Finally, like two war trophies, they were paraded through the streets of the city
and then tossed into the local jail.
The following day, the Japanese troops entered Akyab. Monsignor Newman and Father O’Reilly were summoned
before some Japanese officers. Having interrogated them at great length, they decided that these two priests had no
useful information. They then returned the missionaries to the custody of the BIA. During the weeks that followed,
the treatment they received at the hands of the BIA was so bad that even the Japanese had to intervene.
Two weeks later, the four nuns (who had been living outside the city) were brought into Akyab and placed under
house arrest. Finally on June 27, the two priests and the four nuns were taken by the Japanese to Sandoway. This
trip, which should have taken less than a week, took a full month. On July 28, they were finally reunited with their
confreres, Fathers O’Sullivan, DesMarais and O’Reilly, in the Sandoway jail. The four Sisters were taken to the mission compound to join the five sisters already there.
For Monsignor Tom and Father John, the Sandoway jail must have seemed like the Grand Hotel. All five priests
were able to gather, to pray together and to offer daily Mass. Each day their cook arrived to prepare their meals. On
Sundays, all five were able to return to the church on the hill. For all this they could give thanks to the Lord for his
blessings and to Father Lucey for his magic. The local people had not forgotten him. They still respected him.
Thus they remained in jail for two months – except for Father DesMarais, who was suffering with varicose veins –
ans were in good health; all things considered, they were in good spirits.
20
The local Japanese commander was anxious to get rid of these five Americans and the nine “English” women; the
fact that almost all the Sisters were Irish meant nothing to him. As soon as possible, he wanted to send them onto
Rangoon. There a higher authority would decide their fate. Four of the sisters were deemed unfit for travel. They
would remain in Sandoway for the duration of the war. Also Father DesMarais would be held back for a time in
Sandoway. As for the rest, they began their long trek to Rangoon on September 15.
The usual route from Sandoway should
have been east by way of the Taungup
Pass to Prome and then south to Rangoon. But, for whatever reason, they
headed directly south through Gyeiktaw,
Chaungtha and then through the mountain range. This was a long, difficult trip.
They travelled by foot or oxcart. One
blessing to the missionaries came in
their being able to make one last visit to
their people in these two villages. They
were able to encourage them to remain faithful and to continue to gather each Sunday and Wednesday for common
prayer. They reassured them that, when this war was over, they would have their priests again.
From Chaungtha, this little group of soldiers and prisoners climbed over the Arakan Mountains. As they descended
the opposite side, they entered Karen country. The Karen people were the first race in Burma to accept Christianity.
The American Baptist Missionaries began working among them at the very start of the Nineteenth Century, almost
fifty years before the British took over Burma. Later members of the Paris Foreign Mission Society entered into this
same region. Now as they travelled through this section of Burma, the Karens (whether Baptist or Catholic) treated
the captured missionaries with a show of love and respect. They admired them for their courage and determination
in remaining at their posts yet they could only wonder what their fate would be once they reached Rangoon.
By mid-October they finally reached Rangoon, the capital city. At first the Japanese authorities didn’t quite know
what to do with these civilians, these missionaries. So they sent the nuns to a local convent and the priests to the
French Catholic mission compound. There they remained for four months.
To be honest, the relationship between
the French and the Americans was an
uneasy one at best, in part perhaps because the French were fearful that too
close an association with the Americans might also make them suspect in
the eyes of the Japanese. Then again,
since the American military had suffered defeat after defeat, the French
had lost all faith in America.
On February 15 the four missionaries were marched from the French compound to the Rangoon jail. Here they
were confined two to a cell. Conditions here were not good for this was the place where the Japanese interned and
interrogated their military prisoners, especially the airmen. The missionaries themselves however were never questioned. By mid-March, Father DesMarais arrived from Sandoway. The extra six months there had eased the pain and
trouble he had had with his legs. He was on his feet once again.
21
The Camp in Tavoy
April 15, 1943. To quote Monsignor Tom, “The Japs roused us up at three A.M., marched us off into the grey dusk,
not to a firing squad as we expected but to railway trains for a destination unknown. After a week in box cars, this
turned out to be Tavoy in southern Burma. Here we were pioneers of a new internment camp. There we stayed and
gnawed our souls for two and a half years. The greatest problem was the search to find enough food to keep alive
on.”
In all there were a little over one hundred prisoners divided into some nine or ten bungalows. The prisoners consisted of civilians from New Zealand, Australia, Canada, and England plus the five Americans. Many were past sixty
years of age. For them especially, the time spent there was very difficult. Years later these men, for the most part,
would rather not talk about the time spent in this camp. This experience was a bad memory, one that they would
just as soon forget.
Food or the lack of it became an obsession for the prisoners.
What the Japanese gave them was simply not enough to live
on. So they planted their little gardens and set traps to catch
any stray rodents. They were forever looking for something to
add to their daily food ration. They told the story of the
Japanese guard who was in charge of the kitchen. Each day he
would call out, “Milk, milk”. As he did, the prisoners would
come running with their tin cups. What he had to offer was
the water that had been used to boil the rice. In that water
there was some extra nourishment and they craved every extra
bit they could get.
Tavoy School Camp, Burma, August 1942; sketch by Cpl.
John Donald Korsch, C Company, 14th Platoon
Two stories are worth repeating. They were both told to me
by Monsignor Tom himself. In them we can get a glimpse of
what prison life was like and see how different men reacted to
their circumstances.
By nature Monsignor was a quiet, sensitive introvert. Life in the camp was the antithesis of all that he stood for. For
him the terrible reality of living under those conditions was something close to impossible to deal with. Father
DesMarais, on the other hand, was an extrovert, one who, by nature, would never back away from a challenge. The
very challenge of living in that camp invigorated him. There are those who said of him that these were his greatest
years. He became their leader, their spokesman in all their dealings with the Japanese.
One day the Japanese commandant announced that all the
prisoners would now be required to work repairing parachutes. On hearing this, Father DesMarais marched immediately into the commandant’s office to inform him that
this sort of work was not permitted according to the rules
of the Geneva Convention. Standing outside, Monsignor
could hear the argument between the two. He just could not
believe that “Demi” would have dared to resist the demands
of this Japanese officer. Yet he could hear “Demi’s” voice:
“...according to the Geneva Conventions...” Then there
would be the equally excited and angry voice of the commandant, “How dare you...” Finally the office door opened
and “Demi” was literally tossed out.
22
Tavoy, Camp Cook House, August 1942; sketch by Cpl. John
Donald Korsch, C Company, 14th Platoon
“Demi” now had second thoughts about what he had done. He had endangered himself and all the other members
of his bungalow. He now came to the Monsignor and apologized saying, “I’m sorry, Monsignor. I think I might
have gone too far this time.” Poor Monsignor Tom; he tried to reassure him yet he wondered what would come of
all this.
In no time at all they were ordered to stand in front of their bungalow. The Japanese commandant now came out to
accuse them of a lack of cooperation, of being lazy, obstinate and so on. He pointed out that all the other prisoners had agreed to work on those parachutes; they were the only ones who had refused. So after a long harangue, he
finally pointed towards Father DesMarais and declared, “You are no longer in charge in this bungalow.” Then he
turned to Monsignor Tom and continued, “From now on, you will be the one in charge.”
The next morning, Father DesMarais, holding his hoe on high, once again led the members of his bungalow off
to work in their garden. As Monsignor told me, “Bill, you had to see the look of total contempt he had for those
working on those parachutes from the other bungalows as we passed by.”
Who else but a Father DesMarais, could have pulled off a stunt like that?
The second story is more intriguing…
By this time they were in the internment camp for nearly two years. Already more
than ten of the prisoners had died. Having suffered from dysentery and other afflictions, the Monsignor had become very weak, sick and discouraged. He now weighed
less than one hundred pounds. As he expressed it, “I knew that I was about to die. I
was ready to go.”
Fr. DesMarais in his usual garb –
a white cassock (because of the
heat) and his La Salette Crucifix
Then as he lay on his bed, he looked up and saw the face of Father DesMarais, or,
as he put it, “the bulging eyes of Father DesMarais. As I looked up at him, he glared
down at me. I was terrified.” “Demi” would not allow the Monsignor to give up the
battle. As he looked at the Monsignor, he simply said, “Breathe.” In Monsignor’s
own words, “As stupid as it may sound, every time he said, ‘Breathe,’ I breathed. I
couldn’t, I wouldn’t dare do otherwise.”
How long did this go on? Monsignor had no idea. Yet it so happened that on that
very day, a Japanese general came
by to inspect the camp. He entered their bungalow in the company of the local commandant. The general walked up to Monsignor’s bed and inquired as to who he was and what was wrong
with him. When told, he asked about any available medicine. The
commandant informed him that there was such medicine but it
was held in reserve for Japanese soldiers only.
With that the Japanese general walked over towards the door,
took a chair and sat. “I’ll stay here,” he announced, “until that
man gets the medicine he needs.” A soldier was sent to town and
returned with six doses of the needed medicine. As it happened
the Monsignor needed only four doses. The rest was set aside for
the next prisoner who would need it. Who was this Japanese officer? We will never know. But God bless him for he saved the life
of the Monsignor and perhaps the Prome mission as well.
British soldiers patrol in the ruins of Bahe, Burma, in
early 1945
In the camp at Tavoy, the prisoners lived in total isolation. They received no mail, no news whatsoever from the
23
outside world. They hadn’t heard of Germany’s surrender in May 1945, nothing about the atom bomb in August
nor of the Japanese offer to surrender in August. Not a single word.
About August 20 the Japanese became very polite. The prisoners couldn’t help but become very suspicious of their
motives. Later the Japanese commandant urged them to “conduct yourselves with a quiet and lofty dignity as becomes members of a great race.” That was too much.
Fathers O’Reilly and DesMarais appointed themselves an Ad Hoc Committee whose purpose it was to “improve
supplies”. The two of them marched to the commandant’s house. There they cornered two of his ducks and “with
a quiet and lofty dignity,” marched them back to their bungalow.
Finally their day of liberation came on September 12. The RAF flew into Tavoy and carried all the prisoners back to
Rangoon. Once there, the Americans were given over to the care of a troop of U.S. Armed Forces. They too must
have echoed the words of Father Julien: “It’s great to be free, to be in American hands and to have something to
eat.”
24
CHAPTER FIVE:
Free At Last
In Rangoon at this time there was a company of the OSS. They were
the forerunners of the present CIA. These were the men who welcomed
the American missionaries back to freedom. Years later Monsignor Tom
Newman and his four companions – Fathers O’Sullivan, DesMarais, Frank
Lucey and John O’Reilly – would tell of the kindness and thoughtfulness
of these men. For five days they remained in Rangoon as their guests.
Here they were able to relax, eat, shower and get caught up on all the
world news. Lastly they had the opportunity to cable home the news of
their liberation.
There are two stories concerning this period that have been handed down.
While they were under the care of the OSS, nothing was too good for the
Missionaries. All their needs were cared for. So when asked by an officer if
there was anything special that he could do for him, the Monsignor replied, “Yes, I would love to have a haircut and a shave.” For two years and
more, Monsignor had not been able to shave. By now he had grown a full,
long, great beard and he hated it.
A Stuart light tank of an Indian cavalry
regiment during the advance on Rangoon,
No problem. Among their ranks the OSS men had their own barber. He
April, 1945
was only too happy to oblige. In no time at all the Monsignor with absolute joy was able to see and rub his own face once again. Now as he walked
down the corridor of the house where they stayed, Fathers Lucey and O’Sullivan passed him by without a word.
Monsignor turned and called back to them. They turned, looked and laughed. “Is that you Monsignor?” Rubbing
his face once again he assured them that it was indeed.
A little followup to that story: Father Ed O’Sullivan got the idea that having a beard just might leave a positive
impression on the people of his mission. So he simply had his beard trimmed. Later when he returned to his
mission, his people took one look at him and presented him with a razor. So much for beards in Burma.
The second story concerned Father John O’Reilly. While in Rangoon he decided to visit the French Mission compound. His hosts were only too glad to drive him there. He arrived and
knocked on the door of the compound. The priest upon opening the door
simply looked at him; he had not seen Father John for almost three years.
He had no way of knowing whether Father John and the others had even
survived the war. Yet his greeting was “Father, we have no food.”
Liberation of Rangoon, 1945
I can picture the facial expression of Father John when he heard that greeting. “No food,” he repeated and then pointing to the truck on which he
came, he added, “I have a truck loaded with food right there.” Then came
the second greeting, “Oh Father! It is so good to see you.” For Father John
those words came a little too late. The hurt from that exchange he would
carry for years.
A Death in the Family
It was here too that they received the news of the death of Father Gardner. Not knowing all the details, save for the
fact that he had been brutally murdered, they were all deeply saddened. For Monsignor especially, this news was
25
hard to accept. He wondered to himself how could it be that such a kind, gentle man should have to die in such a
terrible manner? Why should this happen to him of all people? Out of love for Father Phil and his family, Monsignor was determined not only to find out all the details but also to recover his remains. He would see to it that
Father Gardner would receive a proper Christian burial. Right now he needed time to mourn the loss of a dear
friend and coworker.
Five days later, on September 17, they were flown on a DC 3 to Calcutta, India. Here
they were taken to a military hospital. Over a period of two weeks they were given a
complete medical checkup. On the whole, the results were rather good. It was determined that Father Lucey should return to the States as quickly as possible. In fact, with
the help of the army, he was on his way within a month. As for the rest, even though
they had suffered greatly because of their captivity, they were all determined to return to
their missions as soon as possible.
Word was now received that Archbishop Spellman, the Military Ordinary, was about
to make a short visit to the hospital on his way back to New York. Monsignor quickly
wrote a letter to the Provincial and the La Salette Community. In it he mentioned how
all five of them had been freed from the camp in Tavoy and were now in Calcutta.
There they would remain until the end of September. After that, Father Frank Lucey
would be on his way back home. He could relay all the news from Burma.
Fr. Frank Lucey, M.S. (19111983)
The rest of them would be going to Dacca, to the summer house of the Holy Cross Fathers, for a month of healing and rest. It was hoped that by early November they would be able to return to their posts. Meanwhile any mail
could be sent to them in care of the Holy Cross Fathers. Monsignor felt fortunate in getting his letter into the hands
of the Archbishop of New York. And indeed he was, for during this time at least half his letters were lost.
After the War, What Now?
Before he could even begin to plan for the future, Monsignor Newman needed time to reflect on his present situation. His first thoughts
were about his mission. For almost four years his people had been
without the Sacraments, the Mass or any religious instruction. What
would he find on his return? He had heard rumors that some Burmans, in their desire to have a unified nation, sought to have a national religion – Buddhism. They were said to have pressured many a
small Catholic community into following their way, their religion. He
could only wonder what might be left of his congregation. As for the
buildings, the churches, the schools, the convents – would it be too
much to hope that any of these would remain?
Fr. Blumm and his parishioners in Gnatsin Chaung
in Minbya district
Then he considered his men. Father Lucey was about to return home.
It was doubtful that he would ever return. As for the rest, they all
needed and deserved a good, long vacation back in the States. But
until the replacements arrived, that would not be possible.
If he were to consider each man individually – well, Monsignor could
have started with himself. He had lost his glasses when he was first
captured. Because of that and the malnutrition he suffered in prison, he could hardly see. Then there was Father
DesMarais – how he had suffered with those varicose veins for which he needed immediate help. Although Father
O’Sullivan would never complain, he was far from being well. Only Father O’Reilly seemed to be well and able,
except for some eye problems. Yet all were willing, even anxious, to return with him to their mission in Burma.
26
Above all else, Monsignor realized how much he needed young, healthy, able men from the States.
From Calcutta, they travelled to Dacca, India. Here they spent a month building up their energy and strength. They were looking forward to receiving mail
from home. But first they had a visit from Bishop LaPaillier. Throughout the
war years he had kept in touch with the La Salette Community in Hartford,
Connecticut. The most important piece of news he had concerned the death
of Father Paul Regan.
Visual used in La Salette Mission Newsletter (Hartford, CT) from 1965-1989
Monsignor wondered what had happened to his old friend, Father Regan.
For Monsignor, his loss was not only a personal one, but it was a real loss
for the mission as well. When Father Paul was ordained back in 1924, he had
volunteered for the mission in Madagascar but for reasons of health he was
not accepted. Later in 1928 he carved out for himself a new position, that of
Mission Procurator. In this assignment he not only raised money and secured
supplies, but also fostered interest in and for the missions. In time he began
to see a strong nationalist tendency among American bishops. They wanted
to give their support to American missions; that is, mission posts established
or served by Americans. So early on Father Paul was one of the first to push
the idea of an American mission for the La Salettes. In truth he could be
called the “founder” of our mission in Burma.
Changing of the Guard
In April 1939, Father Regan was named the new Provincial for the La Salettes in America. On April 28 Monsignor
wrote him, “...regret that our old procurator is called away from the work that is so dear to us. ...But I know that you
will find a way of providing for us.”
Shortly afterwards, Monsignor learned that Father Paul had decided to
continue serving as Mission Procurator even while fulfilling his new
role. A worried Monsignor responded to that news by writing to Father
Regan, “I suppose that you will soon be used to the routine of being
Provincial. The only thing that I don’t like about the idea of you filling
both jobs as Provincial and Procurator is the possibility of your being
overworked – losing your health.”
Despite Monsignor’s warning, Father Paul carried on both jobs. It was
in his capacity as Mission Procurator that he travelled to Detroit in
March 1943 to give a mission appeal. Here he was stricken and died
very quickly. Father Francis Crane became the new Provincial.
Monsignor Tom could recall Father Frank Crane as one of his former
Fr. Francis Crane, M.S. (1902-1982)
students in philosophy. But that was years ago and, as they say, a lot of
water gone over the dam. They had been good friends but now he had
no idea of how interested Father Frank Crane would be in the missions. Still he knew that this would be the one on
whom he would have to depend for all his future support. The letter that he now sent to Father Crane was a masterpiece. In it there are warm greetings, humor, thoughtful plans and finally a forceful plea for help.
The letter itself was written from the hospital in Calcutta. In fact it was written on Red Cross stationery. He started
off, “Congratulations, Frank, on your new office. All my sincere good wishes and prayers. I have just heard of the
death of Father Regan.” He then alluded to the problems with the mail. “...wrote a letter last week and sent it home
27
via Archbishop Spellman. To date I have had not word from you or from home.” He then goes on to talk about the
desperate need he has for new volunteers. “I’ll be glad to hear from you about the volunteers for Burma. I know
that you will do your best in spite of your affection for the South.” Here Monsignor was referring to the time Father
Crane ministered in East Texas. Realizing now what this man meant to the future of his mission, Monsignor then
added, “Why not come out and see the situation for yourself ?”
To establish a relationship with Father Frank Crane, Monsignor goes on with tongue in cheek. “Think of a fellow being able to brag that he taught the Provincial philosophy. Don’t forget that I gave you marks that you never
earned! Look up the Altamont Council meetings and you will see that, against my conscience, I always voted in
your favor... So now I expect great things. Otherwise I would resign and lay this baby in your lap! Forgive the levity,
Frank, it is the result of the war.” In the midst of his levity Monsignor Newman made his point in a strong, forceful
manner.
Going Home to Their Missions
In November 1945, the four missionaries,
feeling well rested from their time in Dacca,
returned to Burma. Fathers Ed O’Sullivan
and John O’Reilly headed for Prome, while
Monsignor and Father DesMarais returned to
Akyab.
As they got off the plane in Akyab and
looked around, they were lost. All the old
familiar landmarks were gone. The city was
totally devastated. All the homes and buildings
were gone. There was no civilian population
left. When they finally reached the mission
compound, they found that the British army
had taken over the place. In a sense this satisExterior of our Church in the Sandoway Mission
fied Monsignor. There being no civilians,
there was no reason to station a priest there immediately. As for the British army, they were making necessary, albeit
temporary, repairs to the buildings. All this could only help.
From there they travelled to Sandoway. There on the hill, at the far side of the city, stood the church that was the
pride of the mission. It had just been completed before the war began. Now Monsignor looked to see how well it
had fared. As was the case, he looked in vain since there was no church. During the war it had been damaged, then
looted, and now there was not a single piece of wood left – nothing.
Later Monsignor and Father DesMarais travelled down to the missions in Gyeiktaw and Chaungtha. Both these
posts were in rather good shape and that was a plus. What Monsignor remembered most of all about this trip was
his visit to Gyeiktaw. There an elderly lady, on seeing the two priests, ran forward with tears in her eyes. She grasped
the Monsignor’s hands and could only say, “They told us that you would never come back.”
Having completed his inspection of the Arakan, Monsignor Newman now asked Father DesMarais to remain in this
eastern section of the Arakan and travel as little as possible. The point was simply to re-establish his presence, the
presence of the Church, until replacements would arrive from the States. Even in asking this, Monsignor realized
that he was asking a lot from Father DesMarais.
Monsignor now left the Arakan and continued on to Prome to join Fathers Ed O’Sullivan and John O’Reilly. The
mission there, located on the southern edge of the city along the banks of the Irrawaddy, was completely devas28
tated. There was nothing left. But then Father O’Sullivan reminded him of the other church building in the center
of town, the one with the brick walls. Those walls were still standing. More than that, the local British officer had
agreed to rebuild the church as a “garrison” church. He would
use the Japanese prisoners to do the work. Then when they
(the British) would leave Prome, they would simply return the
church to the mission.
Father Ed now added his report of the church in Thayetmyo.
This city is located some 40 miles north of Prome on the opposite side of the river. Thayetmyo had all but escaped the ravages
of war. The mission church was almost untouched.
Another Death on Good Friday
Then there was the final report: the one from Father John
O’Reilly concerning Father Gardner. Father John retraced the
Interior of our Church during Mass in our Sandoway Missteps of Father Phil Gardner on that fateful Good Friday, April
sion
4, 1942. After he had left Father Proulx to watch over their
luggage, he started his journey to a Chin village called Swethathay. On his way he passed through a Burmese village
where he paused for a cup of tea. As he offered to pay for this, people could not help but notice the large amount
of money he had.
Leaving this village, Father Gardner had just over two miles to walk before reaching his destination. There was a
woman from Swethathay who saw what happened next. Father John heard the story from her.
She described how five men from the Burman village surrounded Father Gardner. He
gave them all the money he had. He begged
for his life so that he could continue his
work of helping others. They only laughed
at him saying, “We have your money, now
we will have your life.” He asked for a few
moments for prayer. After he rose and
raised his arm, as if to bless those about to
kill him, they fell upon him. Afterwards they
tossed his body by the side of the road. Later he was buried in a shallow grave. Father
John inquired as to where this grave was. In
time he was able to have the grave opened.
There he found next to a human skeleton
Fr. Phil Gardner (1905-1942) with some of his parishioners
a small pocket watch which had belonged to
Father Gardner. By means of this watch, Father Phil Gardner’s remains were positively identified. He now lies buried behind the cathedral in the city of Prome.
On February 2, Monsignor was finally able to write Father Frank Crane, “I have just returned from a two month
tour of the whole mission and it was a very consoling experience spiritually. The material losses are, of course,
heavy but the people are very enthusiastic and loyal. I have decided, at long last, to leave for the States. A hope to
be there by the end of March... The object of my visit, Frank, as you know is to enlist new recruits for the mission,
besides the collecting of funds, which will be secondary... It will be great seeing you again, Frank, especially if you
are good enough to give me at least ten new men.”
29
CHAPTER SIX:
A Cry For Help
September 12, 1945, Bloomfield, Connecticut. Here at the headquarters of the La Salette Community, Father
Francis Crane had time to reflect on some of the events of the year thus far.
In March, he had welcomed home the three men from the Philippines. Given time, they had all recovered their health and their
strength. By now each man had returned to active ministry. Two –
Fathers Fred Julien and John Doherty – were assigned to a parish
near London, England. The third man, Father Joe Decoteau, had
begun teaching at the seminary. Still later, there was the news of
the death of Father Phil Gardner. And now, in mid-September,
three full weeks after the war in Asia had ended, there was still no
word of the five remaining missionaries. Lately one of the Sisters
in Rangoon had heard that “all the Fathers are safe” but that was
all.
Now, however, Father Crane had a very important date on his
calendar. September 19 would be the ninety-ninth anniversary of
the apparition of Our Lady of La Salette. On this day, the former
estate of the Rice family in Ipswich, Massachusetts, was to be
dedicated by Archbishop Cushing. This new foundation would
serve as the house of theology studies. Later, come Spring, there
would also be a Shrine there opened to the public.
Archbishop Richard Cushing of Boston preaching in the
house chapel at the La Salette Shrine in Ipswich, MA, a
great supporter of the La Salette foreign missions
Father Crane’s thinking was interrupted by the reception of a cable from Monsignor Tom Newman in Rangoon. At
long last there was official word that all five men were safe and in the care of the U.S. Army. He mentioned each by
name: Fathers O’Sullivan, Lucey, DesMarais and O’Reilly. In a few days they would all be on their way to the 95th
Indian General Hospital in Calcutta, India.
Wasting no time, Father Crane made sure that each of the families heard the good news; then he informed the community. After that he sat down and wrote a long, news-filled letter which he sent to the hospital in Calcutta.
September 19 - the celebration in Ipswich went off without a hitch. Archbishop Cushing rejoiced to hear the news
of the Burma missionaries. As for Father Crane, he was already planning a grand celebration for them on their
return.
Less than a week later a letter delivered by the Archbishop of New York arrived from Calcutta. It was addressed
simply, “Dear Father”. Obviously his letter to India had not yet arrived. In his letter after giving a short summary
of all that had happened to them during the war, Monsignor added that Father Frank Lucey would soon be on his
way back to the States. He could fill him in on all the details. As for the rest of them, Monsignor indicated that they
would remain in India for a month’s vacation; then they would be returning to their posts. As he pointed out, his
people in Burma had been without the Sacraments for four long years. As for returning to the States, once replacements arrived, they would be free to go.
Replacements – that, thought Father Crane, could be a problem. He had just finished staffing the new seminary in
Ipswich. Who was left? Two men, one a vocation director and the other a seminary professor, had volunteered but
he felt that he needed them where they were. So he checked the files once again. There he found just two names
remaining. Fathers Louis Perpete and Charles Gendron. Father Perpete was presently teaching college students in
30
Altamont, New York, while Father Charles Gendron was helping a number of parishes in the greater Albany, New
York area. Both were just waiting for the call to the missions. For sure, Monsignor Newman would be asking for
more than just two men.
Then the second letter arrived. “Congratulations, Frank...” Monsignor had
just heard the news of the death of
Father Regan. Father Crane must have
smiled as he read this letter from his
former professor. He had not lost his
sense of humor and yet his message
was perfectly clear: “I need ten new
men.” In truth Father Frank Crane
looked up to and admired the Monsignor. Now after all Monsignor and
his men had suffered, Fr. Crane was
determined to help and support them
in every way possible. But ten new
men – that number seemed beyond
his means.
From Father Perpete he obtained the
names of four young priests who
could possibly be interested in working in the missions. Father Crane
sought them out and talked to each of
them. They were Fathers John Good
and James Mannering, both working
in East Texas. Then there were Fathers John “Mike” Blumm and Charles
McElhinney. Both had been ordained
just six months before and were still
finishing their studies. Whether any or
all of them had seriously considered
the life of a foreign missionary, I’m
not too sure but to their lasting credit,
each in turn, when asked, volunteered
to go.
A news item in the 1946 issue of “Our Lady’s Missionary” (Hartford, CT)
By February 1946, Monsignor announced his plans to return to the
States. As he had put it, “I’ll be glad to see you again, Frank, especially if you have ten new men for me.” For Father
Crane, these six men, plus the promise of more to come, would surely fill the bill.
Monsignor Newman Arrives in the States
In late March, Monsignor arrived by boat in Charleston, South Carolina. There is a picture of him being greeted by
his brother, John. Father John is dressed in his clerical suit while Monsignor is still wearing his army fatigues. From
Charleston, it was home to his family and to his mother. From there he made the rounds of the various La Salette
houses.
31
Finally, sometime in April, he must have had the opportunity to sit and talk to Father Crane. By nature, Father
Crane had an aggressive and forceful personality. Monsignor was quite the opposite yet he had written, “Among
other things I have lost in the war is human respect and shyness. I am just another beggar.” And the one thing that
he had come to beg for, above 06_all else, was new recruits.
At that time the Prefecture of Akyab consisted of no more than the Arakan proper. With these six new men, plus
the ones he already had, Monsignor would have just enough manpower to cover the Arakan. Yet for the mission
to be viable, to have a future, it needed to include the districts of Prome and Thayetmyo as well. Hence the need
was for ten, and not just six, new men. The Monsignor might also have pointed out that on his return to Burma
he would be stopping in Rome to give his report. Unless he could convince the authorities there that he did indeed
have the number of men needed, the hope of ever expanding beyond the Arakan would be lost forever.
As aggressive and as forceful as he may have been, Father Crane was also a realist. Once he understood the urgency
of Monsignor’s request, he would have assured him that, one way or the other, he would have those four extra men.
The Prospect of Burmese Independence
Back in Burma, Aung San, the acknowledged leader of the Burmese, sent a delegation to London demanding full and complete independence. In fact, they would have
settled gladly for some form of “internal” independence. In that way, remaining part
of the British Empire, they could have expected help in rebuilding their nation from
the devastation of the war. In England, however, Prime Minister Atlee was only too
happy to give them total independence; rebuilding England was his main concern.
The date for independence was set as January 4, 1948. That gave the Burmans a little
over a year to organize themselves and their government. They had a lot to do.
In the meantime, Father John O’Reilly had more than enough on his hands. Father Ed
O’Sullivan had left for home. That left Father John with both the districts of Prome
and Thayetmyo to cover by himself. In Prome he had built some temporary buildings
Msgr. Thomas Newman, M.S.
for the church, the school and a residence for those new men who should be on their
way. He visited the mission in Thayetmyo simply to reassure the people there that they
would soon have a priest of their own.
The small Catholic population of Thayetmyo consisted of Indians and Anglos. Among the Indians, there was a man called Nathan. He was their leader,
the socalled “head man.” When Father John O’Reilly arrived in Thayetmyo,
he told him how he had conducted prayer services during the war. Father
John praised him for that. Then he recounted how he handled the infant
baptisms. He produced a list of all the children he had baptized, together
with the names of their parents and Godparents. Now Father John was
truly impressed so he asked Nathan what prayer he said while he baptized
each child. No problem there. As an afterthought, Father John asked him,
“When did you pour the water, before or after the baptism?” “Water?” asked
Nathan, “What water?” Well at least Father O’Reilly had a list of those who
should be baptized.
For business reasons as well as to purchase supplies, Father John had to
travel frequently to Rangoon. There he met a Columban priest by the name
of Father James Fisher. He had been a chaplain for the British army during
the war. Now he had volunteered to stay on in Rangoon and help his fellow
32
Fr. John O’Reilly stands near a pre-war
bus on the shores of the Irrawaddy River
Columban Missionaries by being their business agent in the city. When asked, he was only too willing to do the same
for the La Salettes. For more than 20 years Father Fisher was the man who kept track of passports, visas, imports
and all manner of government business. Living in Rangoon, he knew the merchants, the government people, as well
as the system. His presence and help over the years was truly a great blessing.
September 1946 – New Men Arrive
Father John O’Reilly was in Rangoon to welcome the six new men. With the help of Father Fisher, they were able
to get all their belongings through customs. Later, again with the help of Father Fisher and some of his old army
friends, they managed to get all their boxes moved up the road to Prome.
Within two months, Fathers Blumm, Good and McElhinney were transferred over to the Arakan to be with Father
DesMarais. The other three, Fathers Gendron, Mannering and Perpete, stayed on in Prome to take on the responsibility of the mission and the school. Now at last, Father O’Reilly was free to give some attention to the people in
the villages.
The most important task for the new men was to learn Burmese.
And this was not an easy task. In most languages you simply team
the words together with the proper syntax and that is it. But in
Burmese (as in most oriental languages) you must also learn the
proper tone as well. In all there are three tones in Burmese. How
important is the tone? Simply put, the same word, with a different
tone, has a different meaning.
Years later, I recall standing along the banks of the Irrawaddy
River waiting for one of our men as he crossed over. As he approached the shore, one of the “Longshorewomen” called out to
View from Prome rectory window – sailboats floating him, “Priest, do you need any help?” He answered, “Lady, no, I
leisurely on the Irrawaddy River
don’t need your help.” At least that is what he wanted to say. The
key word should have been given in the first tone – a high short
tone. Instead he used the third tone. In effect he answered her by saying, “Lady, I have no desire for you.” Burmese,
believe me, is not an easy language to learn. Fortunately for us, the Chin People, who have their own language,
spoke Burmese as well.
For Monsignor Newman, 1946 was a very busy year.
Travelling to various mission clubs during the week
and preaching appeals on weekends, he raised a considerable amount of money. Yet what truly interested
him were his visits to the seminaries. For he recognized these as the source of his future recruits.
As for those extra men he needed: first came the veteran, Father Frank Lucey. By June, he revolunteered,
feeling that he could serve until other young men
would be available. Then came Father John Doherty.
While in the Philippines, he had suffered greatly from
Dengue Fever, a tropical disease. Since his return
home, however, he had suffered no physical problems
A typical village chapel in the Prome area
whatever. He was a picture of health and energy. He
was more than willing and anxious to serve in the
missions. Once accepted, he wrote Monsignor telling him that he would remain in England for now. From there he
33
would join him on his return to Burma.
Finally, early in the Fall, two seminarians, Steve Dressell and Raoul Pronovost answered the call. They were to be ordained early in 1947. As the year came to a close, Monsignor felt confident that his petition to Rome would receive
a favorable reply. After all, with fourteen men he had more than enough to cover the entire Arakan, as well as the
districts of Prome and Thayetmyo.
After celebrating the ordinations of his newest volunteers, he set sail for England in early May. By May 17 he was
able to write Father Crane that he had obtained visas for himself as well as the other four. With independence for
Burma less than a year away, these would be the last visas issued by the British government. The next visas would
have to be given by the Burmese government.
From England, Monsignor set off for Rome. He had carefully prepared his
report for Cardinal Costantini, the Prefect of the Congregation of the Faith.
He must have been happily embarrassed when he heard that by a Papal Decree
issued on February 13, Prome and Thayetmyo had been joined to his Prefecture.
So it was a happy Monsignor who wrote to Father Crane on June 8, “Frank,
I know that you will be happy to hear that the transfer of the two districts of
Prome and Thayetmyo has been happily concluded. It is a great thing for us in
Burma. And now there is no doubt as to where we stand.”
Headquarters of the Paris Foreign
Mission Society, Paris, France
Up until this time in the annals of Church history, Prome and Thayetmyo would
be hard to find, for they had little history. Thayetmyo had been the site of a
British army base. Here the army had its own chaplain. His responsibilities were
towards the army personnel and their families. He had no responsibility toward
the local population as such.
As for Prome, there had been no mission nor resident priest until 1930. Then
came a most extraordinary man, Father Charles Maisonable, a member of the
Paris Foreign Mission society. When he first arrived in Prome in 1930, he found just over 200 Catholics in the entire
district. For ten years he worked tirelessly preaching the Gospel. When he died in 1940, he left a congregation of
over 2,500. However the bishop of Rangoon had no one to take his place so Bishop Provost turned to Monsignor
Tom for help. Monsignor appointed Father Phil Gardner as pastor in 1941. Now in
the years right after the war, the task had fallen to Father John O’Reilly. Yet Monsignor had made it known that once the area was officially placed under his care, he
would separate the two posts and give each its own resident priest.
Back in Rome on June 13, Monsignor and Father John Doherty had a private audience with the Holy Father, Pius XII. Then it was back to England to pack their
personal belongings as well as the mission supplies. It was well into July before they
were finally able to arrange for their transportation to Burma. Monsignor sent a final
note to Father Crane. He thanked him “for all your kindness” and then added an
invitation to come and visit the mission early next year.
On July 19 a news bulletin read, “Massacre in Rangoon”. Aung San together with
seven members of his cabinet were murdered. Aung San was the organizer of the
Burmese Independent Army during the war. He was a strong, clear-headed, charismatic leader. U Nu, one of two cabinet members who escaped the killings, now
became the Prime Minister. He was a good, honest man, but weak. In time the army
would gradually assume more and more power.
34
Aung San signs the “Aung SanAtley” agreement for independence before his assassination
July 22, 1947, Monsignor and Father Doherty set sail from Glasgow, Scotland, aboard the HMS Prome. Monsignor
had been away from Burma for more than a year yet he couldn’t help but feel satisfied with all that had been accomplished. His mission had been enlarged and the number of his men had more than doubled. Despite the news of
July 19, things looked bright and promising.
In August 1947, Father DesMarais travelled to Calcutta, India. There on August 18 he welcomed the two newest
and youngest volunteers to the mission, Fathers Steve Dressell and Raoul Pronovost. On that very same day in Rangoon, Father O’Reilly welcomed back Monsignor and greeted Father Doherty. Including himself, Monsignor now
had fourteen men working in his mission. This would be the largest number of La Salettes that he would ever have.
For Father O’Reilly there had to be a feeling of joy and relief in greeting the Monsignor. Now he could return to
him the administrative care of
the Prefecture. In his report to
Monsignor, he related how
well the six men who had
arrived last year had become
acclimated, especially with the
language. He had assigned
Fathers Perpete and Gendron
as the first resident priests to
Thayetmyo. As for Prome,
where a church, school and
residence had been built, he
assigned Father Mannering and
himself.
In Akyab, the church, school,
convent and priest’s residence
had been restored. In fact the
Sisters would be returning in
La Salettes gather in front of Sacred Heart Church in Akyab: front row (from left): Mike Blumm,
December to take charge of
Steve Dressell, Jim Hogan, Jim Noonan, Bp. Newman (seated), John O’Reilly, Lou Perpete,
Joe Kettner and Doc Lucy; back row (from left): Bro. Chit Hlaing, Charlie Gendron, John Good,
the school. Father DesMarais
Bro. Christopher David (first Indian La Salette brother), and one Burmese brother.
had been by himself in Sandoway. Monsignor thanked
Father John for all that he had accomplished. Now he was only too pleased to tell him that Father O’Sullivan was on
his way back to Burma from his vacation. Once here, he would take charge of the Prome mission. Now, at long last,
Fathers DesMarais and O’Reilly were free to plan their long overdue vacation back home.
As the year 1947 came to a close, Monsignor had much to be thankful for. With the increase in the territory of his
mission, there was real possibility for growth. He had the men he needed and, with the promise of more to come,
the future looked bright. The total number of his congregation now exceeded 2,500. With confidence he looked
forward to 1948.
1948 – Burmese Independence Begins
January 4, 1948, at 4:20 in the morning – the time deemed to be most propitious by astrologers – Burma became an
independent nation. In ceremonies not only in Rangoon but in all the major cities throughout the country, the British flag was lowered and the new symbol of an independent Burma was raised.
On March 3, Monsignor and Father Ed O’Sullivan were in Rangoon to greet a visitor – the first visitor they had
since the beginning of the mission – Father Francis Crane. After showing him about the capital of the newly inde35
pendent nation, they traveled to Prome by rail.
The Missionaries were only too happy and proud to show off all the work that had been completed since the war.
In Prome alone there was the new church, school and residence. But in these very buildings, of which they were so
proud, perhaps Father Crane saw things differently. These buildings, to use the Indian word, were only “sash” huts.
Their frames were made of wooden posts. The walls were only bamboo matting and the roofs were thatched (constructed from palm leaves). And even if the men in Prome could boast of electricity some of the time, the others
could not. As for plumbing, let’s simply call it “outdoor” plumbing. These were not exactly the living conditions to
which Father Crane had been accustomed. But there were no complaints on his part; he had come to experience the
reality of the mission.
From Prome to Thayetmyo. Here Father Perpete had obtained a surplus army jeep; so his associate, Father Gendron, volunteered to drive both Father Crane and the Monsignor over the pass and on to the village of Taungup.
For anyone not accustomed to the country, that trip from Prome – some 110 miles up and over the mountains,
through the pass and down to the village of Taungup – had to be breathtaking. Once in Taungup, Monsignor and
Father Crane took the river launch to Sandoway.
They were there but a day or two when they received an urgent telegram from Father Ed O’Sullivan. “We need you; come back.” Monsignor and Father Crane couldn’t imagine what had gone wrong but they
wasted no time in returning. What had happened was that the insurrection sweeping the country was about (in Father Ed’s opinion) to
swallow up Sandoway. If Father Crane had stayed there but a few days
longer he might well have ended up behind “enemy” lines and it could
have been a long time before he would have left the country.
Despite all the inconveniences (March in Burma is in the midst of the
hot season and the heat is very “inconvenient”), the trip was a success.
Father Crane returned home with a clear idea of the lives of the missionaries and their problems with climate, politics, travel, housing, etc.
He returned with a deep appreciation for the men and their dedication.
One final follow-up to Father Frank Crane’s visit. Not long after he
had returned to the States, a large wooden crate (at least four feet in
length) was delivered to Father Lucey in Gyeiktaw. It was a gift from
Fr. Francis Crane, M.S. (1902-1982)
Father Crane. Father Lucey had some men carry it up and into his
house. There he stood the crate on its end and opened one side. “It was like a big closet,” he said later. In it were all
sorts of dry goods, canned foods, etc. This might well have been intended for all the men. In any case, Father Lucey
wondered to himself, “What in the world am I supposed to do with all this?” The next day the Red Flag Communists took over the area. For a good year Father Frank was totally isolated. By the end of the year, that “closet” was
empty.
36
CHAPTER SEVEN:
These Are The Times…
During the darkest hours of the American Revolution, the author Thomas Paine wrote, “These are the times that
try men’s souls.” As he waved farewell to Father Frank Crane on that April day of 1948, Monsignor Tom Newman’s
faith in the ultimate success of his
mission would soon be challenged in
so many ways and with such force that
failure seemed inevitable. He too
might then have echoed those words
of Thomas Paine.
Already he had received a warning
that there were problems obtaining
entry visas. By May 23 Monsignor felt
obliged to inform Father Crane that
“Father Fisher wrote that ten applications for entry have already been
turned down.” Among those applications there was one for the Arakan
mission.
Father Crane was one who believed in
the power of positive thinking. If you
really wanted something, you willed
First row (L to R) Frs. John Doherty, O’Reilly, Dressell, Pronovost, Perpette, Msgr.
it, one way or the other you would
Newman, and Lucey in Prome in front of the first post-war church built by the Japanese
eventually get it. What he wanted was
prisoners of war
a visa for Father Henry McKay. “Sam”
as he was known to all his peers had just been ordained and had volunteered for Burma. At the urging of Father
Crane, he spent the summer travelling to various mission clubs and parishes collecting funds for the mission. Father
Crane told him not to worry about the visa. He assured him that, given time, the visa would be there but it was not
to be. The Burmese government had put a stop to all visas for Christian missionaries. For years Father Sam McKay
waited and hoped. Finally in 1956, he went instead to the mission in Madagascar.
The refusal of any future visas had to be a great disappointment for Monsignor Tom. With new recruits, he could
have expanded the number of his mission posts. Then again one or perhaps two of his veterans had hopes of being
replaced by younger men. Monsignor was determined to carry on with what he had.
Then came the second problem – travel. With independence and the withdrawal of British forces came the revolution. At this time in Burma there were three main rebel groups. The Red Guard (or Red Flag) communists were
hardliners. The White Flag communists were the socialists. Finally the PVO or People’s Volunteer Organization
represented the interests of the various racial groups. At the height of the rebellion of the Arakan mission, the city
of Akyab alone remained in government hands. In fact a good eighty percent of the country fell under the control
of one rebel group or the other. In order to travel you would need a pass from the government and/or one of these
groups. The men would be cut off without any contact or mail for long periods of time. This was hard for them as
well as for their families.
The extent of this problem first showed up in Chaungtha. At this time Sandoway was still in government hands.
Chaungtha was controlled by the Red Guard. In his letter of May 23 Monsignor wrote, “I surmise that Father Good
is cut off in Chaungtha by the Red Guard. He has not been contacted for over two months. I hate leaving Tuck
37
there alone.” (“Tuck” was the name by which Father Good was affectionately known.)
By June Monsignor travelled to Sandoway. He had already
called Father John Doherty over from Prome. If at all possible he wanted him to go down to Chaungtha to be with
Father Good. On June 28 Monsignor was able to write,
“Father Good came up from Chaungtha while I was there
(in Sandoway). He had been turned back twice by the Red
Guard. The Red Guard don’t like anyone going into that
town, lest they talk. I left it up to Fathers Doherty and
Good (whether) to go back to Chaungtha or not. Tuck
laughed and off they went. I did not go this time since Tuck
said that there was a good chance that I could be marooned
there for two or three months.”
As 1948 came to an end, Father John O’Reilly had returned
from his vacation back home. Monsignor named him pastor
of the mission in Sandoway. He then asked Father Lucey to reopen the mission in Gyeiktaw. The past year which
had started off with so much promise turned into one of worry and trouble because of the denial of visas as well
as the ever growing rebellion. These problems, and more, would have to be faced in the new year.
Bp. Newman meets some children on a mission tour
1949 – Another Parting
By mid-January 1949, Monsignor Tom was ready to begin his visit to eastern Arakan. Before he left, he assigned
Father McElhinney to the post in Prome and called Father Gendron from Thayetmyo to the Sandoway mission.
The city of Sandoway was still under government control when the Monsignor arrived in late January. There he was
greeted by Father John O’Reilly, by Fr. McElhinney (who was about to leave for Prome), and by Father Gendron
who had just arrived. Monsignor spent a few days inspecting the mission, the school and visiting the local community. From Sandoway he planned to go south to Chaungtha. Since he had never been there, Father Gendron asked
to travel along with him.
On Tuesday morning, February 2, Father McElhinney
drove Monsignor and Father Gendron as far south as
he could; they came to the end of the government-controlled area in about twenty-five miles. Here they had to
pass through a “no man’s land.” Unless the rebels knew
in advance who you were, you could easily be shot but
all the arrangements had been made. So they passed
safely through the rebel lines to be greeted by Father
Good. Now they were in Red Guard territory.
Walking a short distance they spent that night in a local village. The following day, Wednesday, they walked
the remaining twenty plus miles to the mission in
Chaungtha. It was late in the afternoon when they were
greeted by Father John Doherty.
Chaungtha beach where Fr. John Doherty went for a swim on the
day before he died
From November until late February the so-called “cold season” is a delightful time in Burma. The weather is very
much like summer in New England. I’m sure the four of them stayed up late that evening enjoying each other’s
company. This would be the time that Monsignor would give them all the news from home, news about the mission
38
and the country. For the two men in Chaungtha, this would have been the first news they had in a long time.
Thursday morning Monsignor inspected the mission, the school and then he strolled through
the village. This was Father Gendron’s first visit to Chaungtha. This mission, one of the oldest of all the posts, had been founded back in 1927. In the beginning they had sent a delegation to Bassein looking for a monk to come to their village, but there they met Christians
– Catholics. They were so impressed by them that they sought a priest to come to Chaungtha
and teach them about the Catholic faith. At noon the men gathered for lunch.
Young Fr. John
Doherty, M.S. (19141949)
Afterwards Father Doherty, declaring his need for some exercise, proposed an afternoon
swim. The mission in Chaungtha is less than a mile from the Bay of Bengal. A beautiful
sandy beach stretches for miles. All but Monsignor took off for the afternoon.
Years later Monsignor related how, after they had finished their evening meal and while they
were still at table, Father Doherty raised his arms like a prize fighter and declared “Look at me. Those doctors in
Hartford told me that I shouldn’t even think of going to the missions. I wouldn’t last for six months, they said. Well,
here I am and I have never felt better in my life.”
Monsignor added, “I looked at him and saw a man who was the picture of health, strength and energy.”
The next day was Friday, the first Friday of the month. Father Doherty complained of headaches “just like I had in
the Philippines.” Staying in bed he called out instructions to his catechist. At first no one thought much about this
illness. Just one of those passing things. Yet as the day wore on, his condition worsened. By late afternoon he had
trouble moving. In fact he seemed to be somewhat paralyzed. Plans were made, if need be, to carry him back all the
way to Sandoway. There at least was a doctor and medicine.
That night Father Good stayed by his side. As the night wore on, he told Tuck Good, “Strange how I don’t feel my
feet.” Later, “I don’t feel my legs.” It was early Saturday morning when he asked Father Good to prop him up in bed
“so I can breathe easier.” Then he told Father Good to lay down himself. “Tuck, tomorrow will be a long day. You need some
rest. If I need you, you’re right here. I’ll
just call. No problem.” Later Father Good
would recall that he had laid down for no
more than five minutes when something
awoke him. He saw the contorted face of
Father Doherty. Tuck called the other two.
Monsignor had hardly finished anointing
him when Father Doherty was gone. It was
Saturday, February 6, 1949.
Father Doherty was laid to rest next to the
grave of Father Weselak. Years later Father
Graves of Fr. Wenceslaus Weselak (1908-1938, on left) and John Doherty in the
Gendron wrote, “What a shock. John was
cemetery in Chaungtha
such a big strapping fellow, full of zeal. Had
he lived, he would have been quite a missionary indeed.”
Father Gendron now remained in Chaungtha with Father Good while Father Mike Blumm came over to Sandoway
to help Father O’Reilly. The hard times were just beginning.
From the States came word that a new provincial had been chosen, Father Denis Monahan. In a short time, Father
39
Frank Crane took over the task of Mission Procurator. He had never forgotten what he had seen during his visit to
Burma. He was determined to do all in his power to help the missionaries. So with his considerable energy, he energized and expanded the various Mission Clubs. At least in the area of financial support, Monsignor Tom knew that
he would have no reason to fear.
Meanwhile the rebellion and all the problems that went with it continued to grow. The government troops in Sandoway revolted so the men there were isolated as well. Concern for the safety of the men caused the authorities in
Hartford to consider recalling them at least for a time.
Monsignor called this “alarmist”. Years later, in retirement, he would always reveal his love and respect for “his
boys” when he remembered the courage that they had shown during those troubled times.
Some War Stories
Whenever they gathered, the men would swap their old “war stories”.
But surely this was no laughing matter. Any semblance of law and order
disappeared. The dacoits became stronger and bolder. On land you might
call them robbers; on the rivers, pirates. They were the ones who would
rob, loot, kidnap and murder. No one – above all a traveller – was safe. Yet
the missionaries in order to carry on their work had to travel. They would
be gone from their posts for a week or more at a time, moving from one
village to another. Every time they went out on these “tours”, they were at
great personal risk. This situation continued until 1955.
Fr. Blumm baptizing a child in our Prome
parish
Consider for a moment a few of their “war stories”. Fathers Blumm and
O’Reilly were in Sandoway. In order to run the mission and the school,
to pay the salaries and to buy food, they needed money. The only way to
obtain that money would be to travel to Akyab. Father Mike Blumm volunteered to do this. Obtaining permission from the local rebel commander,
he set off on a river launch, just a small boat.
He later wrote, “Travelling through the swamp is a perfect place for the inexperienced to get lost. But it is an even
better place for the dacoits and river pirates. As we neared the swamps, we met another boat. The occupants were
afraid of pirates and so wanted us to go first. And we did.” Father Mike Blumm sat up by the bow of the boat
wearing his jungle hat and holding his umbrella on his lap. Having passed
through the swamp, they spent the night on a small island. Early the next
morning, the other boat arrived. They had been stopped and robbed.
The pirates questioned them about the boat that had gone on before
them. They wanted to know about that “English Officer” sitting in the
bow of the boat holding a machine gun on his lap.
Father Mike could laugh about that. Yet he had another experience just
two years later. By now he was stationed in Thayetmyo. From there he
had gone out on tour to the village of Swathathay, the same village that
Father Gardner had tried to reach. Father Mike was kidnapped and held
for ransom. After the dacoits had taken from him all they wanted, one of
the group began to play Russian Roulette with the gun pointed at Father
Mike’s head. Never one to show fear, Father Mike simply sat down and
opened his breviary. He later said, “Funny, but as I looked at the pages, I
couldn’t read a word.”
40
Fr. James “Red” Mannering, M.S. (19151981), wrapped in a Chin blanket, discussing
the Catholic faith with a family
They all had their stories. Father Gendron had been kidnapped and shot at. Father “Red” Mannering as well. Once
Father Gendron remarked, “When they finally give up on you as a hostage and tell you to go and walk down the
road and not to look back, as you start walking, you can’t help wondering how far you will get before someone just
might begin to shoot...”
Because of circumstances, they had their own unique problems; for example, according to the Rule of the La Salette
Missionaries, the Religious Superior should be replaced after two full terms in office. Finally, in August 1949, Father
John Good was named the new Religious Superior. Yet it took several months before Father Good received this
news. He was still in Chaungtha and there was no communication from there whatever. Once he realized that he
was the Religious Superior, he moved back to Akyab in order to be available to the men.
1950 – the Challenge of Building the Church
As the year 1950 began, the problems and the pressures that had
borne down on the missionaries continued with no end in sight.
Monsignor realized that in the truest sense, the Church is never
established until it is able to generate its own native clergy. Or to put
it another way, the business of a missionary is to put himself out of
business. Now that the government of Burma would not grant any
new entry visas, the task of developing a native clergy became all the
more imperative.
The problem was attacked on two fronts: A novitiate (a training
ground for future La Salettes) was opened in Akyab under the direction of Father Perpete and young men were sent to the minor semiFr. Lou Perpete, Master of Novices, with his first
nary in Taunggyi, a city well to the northeast of Mandalay. To be
novice, Bro. Ralph (Chit Hlaing) in 1955
honest, at this time both efforts were premature and nothing came
of them. At least the awareness of the need for vocations was made manifest.
There is a little story that would give a good idea of what was going on in the country. When Father Perpete left
Thayetmyo for Akyab, Father Mike Blumm was asked to take his place. Father Mike travelled over the famous
Taungup Pass. The area was controlled by various rebel groups. There was the problem of being checked by each
group, having one’s bags opened and being made to answer an endless series of questions. Finally when he landed in
Prome, Father Mike had had enough. When told by the local rebel officer to open his bags he refused. He was told,
“Either you open those bags or you will go to jail.” Happily Father Mike knew when it was time to give in.
Two days later all the prisoners from that jail in Prome (about five in number) were taken from the Prome jail to a
hill overlooking the mission. There they were forced to dig their own graves before being executed. As Father Mike
noted, “Gee, I could have been there too.”
The reason for the executions? Government forces were about to retake the city of Prome. The rebels looked upon
the prisoners as government people. They then set about destroying whatever they thought might be of use to the
government; that is, the railroad station, the docks and boats along the river as well as many of the buildings in
town. Finally the government troops took over. Father Mike ended up not being stationed in Prome but in Thayetmyo. It would be four long years before the government troops would be able to secure that city.
By the end of 1950 the central government had begun to exert its authority yet it had a long way to go. Other than
the cities of Prome and Akyab, the mission remained in rebel hands. Nonetheless, as the year 1951 began, Monsignor began to dream and plan to rebuild the entire mission compound at Prome. Those sash huts of which the
mission had been built left a lot to be desired. At best they were temporary buildings that would have to be replaced
every five years. What Monsignor wanted was a church of brick and stone, a building of permanence reflecting the
41
permanence of the Church itself.
Requiescant in Pace
In November 1951 the missionaries gathered in Prome for their annual
retreat. At the end of the retreat, they spent an extra day discussing their
work and future plans. At this time, I’m sure, the Monsignor revealed his
plans for the Prome Church.
The next item was a catechism. Monsignor had obtained a comic book
format on the life of Christ. It was necessary to fill in each picture with
the appropriate dialogue in Burmese. Father Ed O’Sullivan was only too
happy to accept the challenge. In order to have the best possible translation, he thought that he should go to Mandalay; the Monsignor agreed.
Early the next morning, Father McElhinney drove Father Ed to a town
called Thonze, about eighty miles south of Prome along the road to
Rangoon. There Father Ed spent the night with Father Casseau a French
priest and a good friend. Father Ed wanted to talk over this project of the
catechism with him. The next day, anxious to get to Rangoon as soon as
possible, he took the bus instead of waiting for the afternoon train. Custom demanded that, as a priest, he ride in front.
They were hardly outside the town when a tire blew. The resulting accident left Father Ed fatally injured. He was carried by the afternoon train
to the Rangoon Hospital, where he lingered for several days. Monsignor
hastened to his bedside. When Ed O’Sullivan died on November 22, Monsignor lost the last of his original companions. Fr. O’Sullivan’s body was taken back to Prome for burial.
Fr. Ed O’Sullivan, M.S. (1910-1951)
1951 was a year of many setbacks and disappointments. Of all these, the greatest by far had to be the loss of Father
Ed. No one had more zeal. No one could work as hard. For Monsignor, this was more than a personal loss; it was a
great loss for the entire mission.
1952 – the Compound at Prome
Now as he looked forward to the coming year, Monsignor felt that it was all the
more imperative to build that new church in Prome. Such a building would be a
symbol of hope for his men and a source of pride for his people. It would be a
bold move. After all, government forces had moved but twenty miles or so further along the road beyond Prome and had no control of the countryside.
From Hartford, Monsignor had received assurances that the extra $15,000.00 he
would need was at hand. The material, for the most part, could be obtained locally. However there were no contractors as such available. Monsignor turned to
an Italian missionary community working in the district of Taunggyi. This group
was known simply by their initials as the P.I.M.E. Fathers. The initials stood for
Pontifical Institute for the Foreign Missions. They offered Monsignor the services of Brother Pietro Guidice, an architect, and Brother Felix, whose specialty was
iron work. They were both skilled tradesmen and after years working in Burma,
they knew the people. Monsignor called upon Father Mike Blumm to oversee the
project on behalf of the La Salettes.
42
Two parishioners stand in front their
new Town Church in Prome about
three miles from the Cathedral of St.
Paul
The actual work began in September 1952 at the end of the monsoon season. Keep in mind that the grandest building the people had ever seen had been those square, red brick buildings in town. This church would exceed anything
that they could have imagined.
Father Mike Blumm had the task of getting the workers and the material. The two Brothers would be the contractors and the foremen. They laid the foundation and built the steel reinforced concrete beams. In place of those
bamboo matted walls of the old church, these walls were made of cement block. All these things were made on site.
If nothing else, Father Mike got an education in building.
Years later Monsignor looked back on this time as a
joyful occasion. The two Bothers were skilled, dedicated workers who took pride in what they were doing.
With Father Mike supervising the work, Monsignor
could relax and enjoy the progress. All went well. In six
months time, the new church was ready to be dedicated
on March 26, 1953.
Remember the three priests who at the start of the war
were stranded in the Philippines. Seven years later their
belongings, left aboard ship, finally arrived in Rangoon.
Among their belongings was a bell. To this day, that bells
calls the people to Mass at the Cathedral of St. Paul, Prome, Burma.
Just a short time after the church had been dedicated, Father Charles McElhinney returned to the States. He did not
return to the mission; instead he served for a short time as assistant director of students at the Seminary in Ipswich,
Massachusetts, before taking over the position of Mission Procurator. His departure left Monsignor with one man
less to cover the mission.
By 1954 a relative peace became fact for most of the people of Burma. By now the various rebel groups were driven from the principle cities and towns. It became possible to tour the villages with some sense of security. Suddenly
there was some wonderful news. Two new entry visas had been granted to the Akyab mission. After seven long
years, after all hope was lost, not one but two visas had suddenly been issued! These visas like all subsequent visas
were temporary. They had to be renewed each year. No matter, the thought of having new recruits truly excited the
men.
The new volunteers, Fathers Joe Kettner and James Droney arrived near the end of the warm season, just in time to
find out the real meaning of the word monsoon. By June the rains would begin to fall all over Burma. For his first
year and a half, Father Joe Kenner would remain in Thayetmyo with Father Mannering. Later on he would move
to Prome and take charge of the boys’ boarding school as well as the catechetical programs for the young people.
Father Joe would remain in Prome until 1966.
Things did not work out as well for Father Jim Droney. He was stationed in Akyab. The change from New England
to Burma proved just a bit too much. By 1956 he had returned to the States and there served as a parish priest in
southern Louisiana until his death in 1996.
As the year 1954 came to an end, Monsignor could look back on seven long, difficult and tempestuous years. His
mission had not grown that much in numbers – his congregation was only about 4,000 Catholics – but that was
hardly the point. The fact that the men had hung in there despite all the losses, the threats and pressures gave the
Church a strong foundation on which to build. The growth that followed came as a result of their courage and faith.
Against overwhelming odds these men had stood strong.
43
CHAPTER EIGHT:
A Time To Sow And A Time to Reap
In the year 1955, the Catholic Community of Rangoon welcomed their new
Bishop, Victor Bazin, M.E.P.. After years of service in Burma, he understood
many of the problems facing the Church. One such problem concerned the education of its future priests. For almost one hundred years seminarians had been
sent to Penang in Malaysia for their final studies in philosophy and theology.
Bishop Bazin considered the establishment of a local National Seminary to be
an absolute necessity. He convoked the hierarchy of the Church in Burma. They
agreed not only on the need for a National Seminary but also on a petition to be
sent to Rome for help. In February 1957, they asked Rome to request the Society
of Jesus to send the necessary number of priests to conduct their seminary.
Rome agreed and sent the request to the Superior General of the Jesuits. He
in turn called upon his Maryland Province in America to supply the necessary
manpower. Father Joseph Murphy, S.J., and eight associates were named for this
ministry. They would arrive in Rangoon in May of 1958.
Bp. Victor Bazim, M.E.P., past bishop
of Rangoon
Bishop Bazin, wasting no time, obtained the land and built the buildings for the
seminary. The seminary opened in 1957 with just eight seminarians under the direction of Father Luigi Bignamini,
P.I.M.E., and Father Vincent Zan. Later the standard established by the Jesuits would equal that of the best of seminaries.
To be accepted, a young man would be required to have passed the nine standards and have taken the college entrance exam. At that time, on a national level, less than five percent of students achieved this level.
Then the future seminarian would enter a two year preparatory course. Among his main studies were English and
Latin. At the major seminary, all classes were originally taught in Latin. There were three years of philosophy and
four years of theology. Now most seminary courses are taught in their native language.
As a former seminary professor, Monsignor Tom could appreciate the need for such a
standard. It would benefit the seminarian, giving him a sense of pride and self-assurance
and it would also be a source of strength for the Church in the years to come.
On the other hand, Monsignor was well aware that he had but seven boys in the seminary in Taungyi and the best of them was only in the seventh standard. So he would
continue to make his solitary holy hours, bringing this problem before the Lord.
Fr. Adrien DesMarais, M.S.
(1903-1977)
Monsignor was faced with another setback at this time. One of his veterans, Father
Adrien DesMarais, asked to be relieved of his duties in the mission due to poor health.
It was because of government restrictions on entry visas that he had stayed on as long
as he had. Monsignor remembered the courage he had shown during those war years
and his tireless efforts in the mission. Now, as much as he hated to see him leave, Monsignor could understand his reasons. In August 1955, he granted Father “Demi” his
request.
Counting himself, Monsignor was now down to eleven men. He knew that he would have to make some adjust44
ments. So when Father Steve Dressell returned from vacation, he sent him to Sandoway to be with Father John
O’Reilly. For the past several years, Gyeiktaw no longer had a resident priest. Father Mannering was transferred
from Chaungtha to Prome. Shortly afterwards Chaungtha, like Gyeiktaw, would be without a resident priest.
In 1955, after the monsoons were over and the rice crop had been harvested, a
time when people were free to travel and visit, Father John O’Reilly had some
unexpected visitors. At the time, he was by himself (Father Dressell was out
on tour) when three men arrived from a village called Natsinchaung. They
were, in fact, a delegation sent by the village elders. They wanted to know
if it would be possible for someone to come to their village and teach them
about the “Red Letter” religion. (Let me explain: in all government documents,
whenever there was a Catholic Church, it was marked with a red letter. If the
church was Protestant, it was marked with a blue letter. Hence the expression,
the “Red Letter” or the “Blue Letter” religions.)
Bp. Newman participated in the Solemn
Opening of the 1956 Eucharistic Congress held in Rangoon
Father John lived for a day and a time like this. Having served for years in
Akyab, he knew that the village of Natsinchaung was in the Akyab district.
Therefore any work to be done there would be the responsibility of Father
Good. Yet he wanted to act as quickly as possible in order to encourage these
men. So he called for his head catechist, Saya Ohn Pe, to meet these men and
plan the next step.
Father John then sent Saya Ohn Pe back with them to their village. He instructed him that, after visiting the village,
he should continue on to Akyab and make a full report to Father Good and Monsignor. As for himself, Father John
could hardly wait to share the good news with Father Steve on his return.
Natsinchaung was a village almost one hundred miles southeast of Akyab, close to the Bay of Bengal. There were
six to eight villages clustered in the area. The people were, of course, Chin. Ohn Pe quickly realized it was not only
the people of Natsinchaung but the people of the surrounding villages as well who were interested in learning
about the Catholic faith.
Bandoola Garden in the center of Rangoon was the venue for the closing of the Eucharistic Congress in 1956
Father Good had been traveling north from Akyab to an area called Paletwa. The journey there was long (over two
days) and difficult. The people had a dialect of their own and, for the most part, did not speak Burmese. As yet, Father Good had little if anything to show for all his efforts but he was a patient and persistent man. For now he was
satisfied in feeling that he was “sowing the seed.” In his heart he knew that later on there would be a harvest.
The harvest came in a way and at a time he never expected. The way was to the southeast and the time was right
now. In his diary for December 23, 1957, Monsignor wrote, “With Father Good, we had 65 new and first Catholics
baptized in Natsinchaung.” In the years that followed, the work of instructing, baptizing and confirming was all but
45
overwhelming. Father Good wrote home, “If only we had a few more priests here, ...we are just getting to know the
whereabouts of more and more of these tribes who are begging us to come.”
Finally, Father Dressell came over from Sandoway to help. To this day he can recall the time when he felt physically
tired from the number of baptisms he had performed in one day. In just a few years,
hundreds of people had joined the Church. In that area today, there are well over 1,000
members of the Church. At last came “the time to reap.”
Almost unnoticed at the time was a decree from Rome dated September 13, 1957. The
Prefecture was now to be known as the Prefecture Apostolic of Prome. In fact it was
not until November 1958 that the Monsignor actually moved his headquarters to Prome.
The move made sense not only because the greatest number of his people lived in the
Prome/Thayetmyo area, but also because of the ease with which one could travel from
here to Rangoon or to any part of the country.
Towards the end of 1957, the government granted an extra visa to the Prome mission as
a replacement for Father DesMarais. The man chosen was Father James Noonan. Father
Jim arrived in December and, after a short stay in the Arakan, he was assigned to the
post in Thayetmyo. In less than six months, a visa was granted to Father Jim Hogan. Father Hogan had already
spent some time in the mission of Madagascar. He was first assigned to Prome for
language study.
Fr. Jim Noonan, M.S. (19261985), came to minister in
Burma
Back in Hartford, Connecticut, Father John (we always called him “Jack”) Toner was
named the new Mission Procurator. Father Jack took on the task in September 1958
and would serve the Burma mission in this capacity for the next eighteen years.
As Mission Procurator, Father Toner had the responsibility of supporting the mission and the missionaries. This he did through the efforts of the mission clubs, both
spiritually and materially. These clubs, eight in number, had as their members the
families and friends of many of the missionaries as well as many friends of the La
Salette Community. Each club would meet once a month. Father Toner would begin
with Benediction and prayer for the men and their mission. He would then share any
news he had from the mission. The members themselves, with card parties and
special events, would raise funds for the support of the mission.
Fr. Jack Toner, M.S., Mission
Procurator for many years
Monsignor was pleased, for in Father Toner he had a man of boundless energy
and enthusiasm. He would depend on him for an average of close to $35,000.00
annually to cover regular expenses and he would need extra help for the work he
now had in mind.
Fr. Blumm (1919-2009) stands with
his parishioners from the village of
Gnatain Chaung in the parish of Akyab
In Prome, after the Church had been built, the school and convent had also
been rebuilt. A new church in the center of the city had been finished. Now,
since Prome would be the center of the Prefecture, a new residence was badly
needed. The missionaries had been using the same building that had been
erected right after the war. Its thatched roof and bamboo matted walls had to
be replaced. This time Monsignor wanted a building that would have the space
for offices as well as for the priests and the administrator of the mission. Once
again he called upon Father Mike Blumm to supervise the project.
This time it was possible for Father Mike Blumm to hire a contractor from Rangoon to do the work. In fact, before the residence was finished, he started on a
46
new boys’ boardinghouse as well. All this was due to the help of the Burma Mission Clubs.
When this construction was finished in 1960, it was time for Father Mike to return home to visit his family. It had
been six years since he had seen them and, according to custom, it was his turn for leave.
The “Other” Fr. Doherty Arrives
In December 1959, I arrived in Rangoon. I introduced myself as the “other” Father Doherty, Bill Doherty (not
John). The good Monsignor was there to welcome me at the airport at 2:30 AM and introduced me to Father Jim
Fisher. I was then assigned to Prome. At first all was well. Then I got sick with hepatitis, the result, I am convinced, of an injection I was obliged to take at the London
airport. It was a debilitating illness. Struggling with that and the language was quite a
load to bear. In a year’s time I was assigned to Thayetmyo with Fathers Noonan and
Pronovost.
What I could say of the mission in Thayetmyo could be said of each of the main
posts. Each was organized in the same manner. So allow me to describe this mission
and so give a generalized picture of each mission.
When I arrived in Thayetmyo, we still had the old church left over from before the war.
A few rooms by the rear of the church served as a residence. Our plumbing was still
of the outdoor variety. We had a house boy, Anthony, and a cook, Sammy; both were
Indian. Neither had much formal education yet both spoke six different languages.
How I envied them! They had been trained before the war by the British. Needless to
say, in and around the house they did an excellent job. They spoiled us.
Fr. Bill Doherty, M.S. (19272006), the author of this history, speaks to a parishioner in
front of the Prome Cathedral
Saya Robert was the head catechist. As a young man, he had studied for the priesthood. He was well qualified for
this position. He was in charge of the religious education programs on the posts. He also worked with the three
catechists who lived out in the villages. They, in turn, had about twenty or more villages to cover. In each village
they would organize the local Catholic community, teach the catechism classes and, since a priest could come only
four or five times a year, prepare the communal prayer services for each Sunday morning and evening.
Then there was the school. Our teachers were all certified. Any student
who passed the nine standards was able to take the college entrance exam.
Half the students came from the city itself; most of these would be Indian
by race and Hindu by religion. They paid the full tuition. The rest of the
students would be our boarders.
Sr. Angelica and Sr. Romanus, RNDM (Religious of Our Lady of the Missions), Burmese
natives, come to celebrate the Feast day of
Christmas in Akyab
When I arrived, we had a boys’ boarding school only. Later in 1962 the
Sisters of St. Ann arrived and opened a boarding school for the girls as
well. The Chin people, like people the world over, wanted the best for
their children. In their villages there were no schools so for them, this
school was a golden opportunity.
The school would open in May, about the time the monsoons would
begin. It would close in early March, at the start of the warm season. The
boarders, coming from the local Chin villages were mostly Catholic. In time a good number of those who were not
Catholic would end up joining the Church.
The tuition – board, room, schooling, books, whatever else was needed – came to $3.00 per month, a real sacrifice
for the parents. This was an investment in their children that they were only too happy to make. Even in Burma, it
takes more than $3.00 per month to run such an operation. The government discovered this later when they took
47
over the schools.
A child would first come to school when he was about seven years of age. After kindergarten he would then begin
the nine standards. Oftentimes when a boy or girl had finished five or six standards, he would be considered well
educated in the village. So the village elders would hire him to open a local village school. At one time, we had
thirty-two such schools in the Thayetmyo
district alone. Along with reading, writing,
etc., they would teach catechism. For this
they would receive a little extra stipend.
You can see how the school itself was at
the very heart of the entire mission “operation.”
Very few of our people lived in the city of
Thayetmyo; they were out in the villages.
In all we had 80 or more villages that we
would visit. In my own mind, I often compared these people with the first Christians
Seminarians with Fr. Mike Blumm (1919-2009) in front of Sacred Heart Church, in the Acts of the Apostles. Like them, they
Akyab, 1962; last row, right is Fr. Bernie (Mya Thein) Taylor, M.S., first Burmese
were “first generation” Christians. They
La Salette Missionary.
considered the gift of the Catholic faith a
treasure to share with their fellow villagers as well as with their relatives and friends. Let me relate the story of what
happened in one such village.
Catholic Evangelization by the Laity
Heading east from the mission, a traveler would first cross the Irrawaddy River and reach the town of Alanmyo.
This is the same place that Father Gardner had reached on his return from Mandalay back in 1942. There it would
be possible to catch a ride on a truck and travel about twenty-five miles to a large central village called Schwaybandaw. This was a Burmese village and the people were all Buddhist. Yet one of our catechist and his family lived
there. In this general area there were some twenty or more Chin villages.
During the years of the revolution following the war, it was impossible to carry on any missionary activity here. On
two occasions a priest had tried to tour this area and both times it all but cost him his life. It was not until 1955 that
one could travel freely in this area.
In the short time since, the Church began to grow rapidly in this area. One of these nearby villages was called
Kyauklaut. Back in 1956 I am not sure if there was a
single Catholic in that village. In January of 1960, Father
John O’Reilly and Monsignor Tom went there for a three
day celebration. Father John preached the mission and
Monsignor blessed their new church. In just a matter of
a few years, one out of every four villagers had joined the
Catholic Church but that was only the beginning.
Each Christmas we had two celebrations, one at the main
Crowd at Christmas feast at Jungle Chapel, 1973
post and the second in one of our “jungle” villages. In
1962 Kyauklaut was the village chosen. This was a great
honor for them. People from all the surrounding villages would gather there for the Feast of the Incarnation. As
part of the celebration each village school would put on a little skit by the children. After that we had the Baptism
48
of the catechumens from the various villages.
The good people of Kyauklaut were not to be outdone in any way by the other villages. At this time there was a
troop of Burmese soldiers stationed just beyond the village. Their officer just couldn’t believe the time and effort
these people put into their preparations for the Feast. “All day long they are studying their prayers and catechism.”
On the day itself, they did indeed have more converts than any other village. One part of the celebration that I enjoyed was the manner in which they invited all those non-Christians to the Feast: they were invited to cook the food
so that the Christians could be free to celebrate Christmas!
Early in 1965 I made my last visit to this village. One of the elders told me with pride how there was at least one
Catholic in each of the fifty-eight homes in the village. In fact, he added, many of the homes were all Catholic. Here
we are talking about what happened in the space of less than ten years. Whence did all this enthusiasm arise? Not
from us at the main posts. It came from the people themselves.
Rebuilding the Mission of Thayetmyo
Now that the work of building in Prome had been finished, it was time to rebuild the mission in Thayetmyo. Father
Raoul Pronovost was the pastor and the one in charge of the construction.
Looking back at that time, there was one little incident that still makes me smile. Father
Raoul wanted to use cement blocks for both the church and the residence. The old blockmaking machine had not been used since the church in Prome had been built. He called
Prome and they sent him the machine – that is to say they sent him all the parts in three
fifty-five gallon drums. Without any blueprint or picture of what the machine looked like,
what could be done with all those parts?
Father Pronovost called in an Indian by the name of Peter; he was a natural mechanic.
Father Raoul drew him a picture of how he remembered the structure of the machine.
Peter looked at the picture. Then he emptied all the parts from the oil drums on the
ground and simply squatted there for two full hours. In his mind he was imagining how
each part would fit together. In due time he got up and put the machine together. Once
we had the machine, building the church was no problem.
Fr. Raoul Pronovost, M.S.
(1920-1996)
While Father Raoul was taken up with all the details of construction, Father Jim Noonan had his work to do. First
with Saya Robert, he wrote a new catechism for the people in the villages. Then he set to work on reorganizing the
work of the catechists in the villages. Having completed this, he turned his attention to the school. He upgraded the
school from seven to nine standards plus a year of matriculation. These efforts quickly began to show results. In but
a matter of a few years the number of Catholics here would double in size.
As 1960 came to a close, Monsignor had every reason to be hopeful as he looked toward the future. The number
of converts he had been called upon to confirm each year continued to increase. The events at Natsinchaung were
being repeated in village after village. Yet two great problems continued to press down upon him. He needed more
men and, above all else, he needed to develop a native clergy. If he couldn’t find an answer to these two problems,
perhaps the Good Lord would provide one.
49
CHAPTER NINE:
The Darkest Hour Is Just Before The Dawn
(left) Children of lepers near community’s sign; (right) Fr. Charles Rukus ministering to a resident
Tracing history all the way back to biblical times, the most feared, the most dreaded disease of all was leprosy. Its
victims were driven from their homes and forced to live apart. Left untreated this plague would cripple, deform and
ultimately cause death. Throughout the centuries nothing had been found to cure or even arrest this curse.
In the middle of the last century, a truly great missionary, Father Damien arrived in Hawaii. He witnessed the sordid
conditions under which people with leprosy were forced to live and dedicated his life to their care. In time he too
became a leper.
His sufferings and death stirred a new consciousness and concern for those so afflicted. Five years after his death in
1894, a leprosarium in Carville, Louisiana, was opened for the treatment and research of this disease. To lessen the
social stigma of being called a leper, the disease was now referred to as Hansen's Disease. There are drugs that will arrest
and con09b_Bachelor residents participate in construction of
their new quarters_Aug 18_1962tain the infections and ravages
of this illness.
Hansen's Disease may not be a problem in America today but
it is a terrible reality in many nations like Burma. In 1960 there
were at least 100,000 known cases in the country. Of these,
2,500 lived in the Thayetmyo District.
Early in 1960 the Church made a commitment to help these victims. Land was obtained outside the city of Thayetmyo and temBachelor residents participate in construction of their
porary housing was constructed. This would serve as a shelter
new quarters, Aug. 18, 1962
for those in whom the disease was still infectious as well as those
so crippled that they could no longer support themselves. Admission was never limited to a particular race (Burman,
50
Chin) or religion (Buddhist or Christian). The support of the colony would come from the Catholic Church itself.
In November 1960, Father Charles Rukus was granted a special visa to supervise this. He travelled to the leprosarium in Carville, Louisiana, to prepare himself for this ministry.
While all this was going on, the new church in Thayetmyo was completed in time for our Christmas celebration. In
February 1961, the new residence was also finished. And just in time, for a day like no other in the history of the
church in Thayetmyo was about to be celebrated. On March 25, the Apostolic Delegate, Archbishop Knox, the entire hierarchy of Burma, Church leaders from within and beyond the country (including Reverend Alphonse Dutil,
the Superior General of the La Salette Community) came for the blessing of this new church. It was a day never to
be forgotten.
At first glance it seems unreal that a simple blessing of a church should have called for a Pontifical Mass offered by
the Apostolic Delegate in the presence of such a gathering. But Archbishop Knox had a special reason for coming
to Burma and meeting with the local hierarchy. In private conversations he outlined for them the plan Rome had in
mind for the structural reorganization of the Church in Burma.
Monsignor Newman Becomes a Bishop
The following month, on April 25, Monsignor Newman received a cable from the
Archbishop in which he publicized a Papal Decree of February 13. In this the
Holy Father raised the Prefectures of Rangoon and Mandalay to the status of
Archdiocese and each of the remaining six prefectures to the status of diocese.
The Prefecture of Prome was now the Diocese of Prome. Monsignor Newman
was named its first Bishop. At the time his diocese was the smallest in Burma, just
over 5,000 people, with no native clergy.
Monsignor Newman and two of his colleagues flew from Rangoon to Rome
to be ordained Bishops on May 21 by Pope John XXIII. After his ordination,
Bishop Newman returned to the States to celebrate with his family and community. For three months, Bishop Newman remained close to home. Now he had the time
to discuss his plans for the mission in general
and the leper colony in particular with Father
Jack Toner.
Msgr. Newman (1903-1978) ordained bishop by Pope John XXIII
He had already given permission to Father Jim Noonan in Thayetmyo to begin
the construction of the permanent structures for the colony. It was good to review the financial concerns with Father Toner in his position as Mission Procurator. Afterwards Bishop Newman had the opportunity to visit most, if not all,
of the Mission Clubs in order to enlist their support.
Fr. Jim Noonan was assigned by Bp.
Newman to direct construction of the
permanent structures for the leper
colony in Thayetmyo
The post in Thayetmyo had expanded to a point where it was now second only
to Prome in number of Catholics. Bishop Newman felt that there was a definite
need for the presence and the help that only a community of Sisters could give.
So on April 26, six Sisters of St. Ann's Community arrived in Thayetmyo. Right
away they opened a boarding school for girls. Their Superior, Sister Veronica,
happened to be a nurse. This was a great help not only in the care of the boarders but later at the colony itself.
Toward the end of June, I made a trip to Rangoon. There on July 4 I was able to greet my classmate, Father Charles
51
Rukus. A few days later I was back at the airport to bid farewell to Father Pronovost as he headed home on leave.
Father Rukus became sick before he could get to Thayetmyo and take charge of the colony.
Like myself he was diagnosed with hepatitis so he
had a little delay in Rangoon before reaching his post.
Meanwhile Father Jim Noonan, who was now in charge
of the mission at Thayetmyo, had begun the construction of the buildings at the colony.
The village of Paletwa nestled in a remote valley of the Chin State
On September 17 Bishop Newman arrived back in
Rangoon. He was greeted by the now Archbishop of
Rangoon, Victor Bazin. The following day they travelled to Prome where the Archbishop officially installed
Bishop Newman as the first Bishop of Prome. In less
than a month, Father Blumm had returned from his
leave. Bishop Newman assigned him to Akyab to work
with Fathers Good and John O'Reilly. The great push
in Natsinchaung was all but over.
But now Father O'Reilly had his sights set on Paletwa. As yet there were few results to show for all their efforts. In
fact it would be four or five years more before the Catholic Church would begin to flourish in this area but these
men were not easy to discourage.
By now Bishop Newman had received word from Father Toner of the success in raising funds for the mission. Because of this the entire colony had been rebuilt and paid for by year's end. In the colony there was room for some
60 to 80 residents, some of whom would live there permanently, others for just a period of time.
1961 had truly been a year of many blessings. Unlike other years, this was a year of progress, a year without setbacks. We felt confident as we looked to the coming year with great expectations. Yet 1962 would mark the start of
a great change in the country.
1962 – The Year of Many Changes
With this general feeling of optimism, the La Salette Fathers decided to open a seminary of their own in Akyab.
This would be in sharp contrast to what had happened in the past for this would be a La Salette Community Seminary. The young men could come from any part of the country to be
trained to be Missionaries of La Salette. Father Jim Hogan was freed from
all other duties in order to be its full-time director. The students would
attend class at the parish school as well as extra classes given by Father
Hogan. The idea was well received. In fact when this seminary opened in
June 1962, there were some 20 students enrolled. Moreover Bishop Newman had some 13 students at the seminary in Taungyi preparing for the
diocesan priesthood. With all these seminarians, the future looked promising indeed.
Burma had never fully recovered from the massacre of its leaders back in
1948. In the years of revolution that followed, the army had grown stronger and more independent. In fact at one time with the permission of the
parliament, the army had actually taken control of the country. By 1962
the government had become very unstable. By now groups of rebels once
52
The Burmese Prime Minister, U Nu
more began to assert their power. Commerce and trade had slowed to a halt. The Prime Minister, U Nu, a devout
Buddhist, had forbidden the slaughter of animals for food, thereby upsetting the economy. There were all kinds of
rumors including one that had the government taking over all private schools. Something just had to happen.
March 2, 1962, was a day not to be forgotten in the history of Burma. The army made its move. Without the
consent of the parliament, they seized control of the country. Immediately many of the nation's problems were
solved yet one could only wonder about the price that this stability would cost.
By May Father Pronovost had returned from his vacation. He looked
forward to returning to Thayetmyo and working at the colony but
Bishop Newman had a problem. Father Rukus had a very specific, limited visa, issued for ministry at the colony so Bishop Newman had no
choice. He assigned Father Pronovost to Sandoway. For reasons of his
own, Father Pronovost found this too difficult. In July he returned to
the States.
That same month we had a special visitor. In truth any visitor to Burma
would have been special but this man was one of those three missionaries who had left home for Burma in November of 1941, only to end up
in a Japanese prison camp in the Philippines. Now, some 20 years later,
Father Fred Julien stopped by for a visit. He was on his way back to the
Philippines to serve there as a missionary.
Fr. Joe Kettner (left) speaks with Fr. Jim
Noonan at the future site of Unit Two in the La
Salette Leper Colony in Thahyetmyo
In October 1962, there was news and excitement throughout the universal Church. The Holy Father, Pope John XXIII, had called for a council
of the Church, one that is now known as the Second Vatican Council.
Bishop Newman, with the rest of the Bishops of Burma, left for Rome
to participate.
For those of us working in the mission, this
period was to be a time of great euphoria.
Every endeavor seemed to be blessed: the
schools, the seminaries, the work in the villages. In May of 1962, there were 102 boys
and 59 girls in the boarding schools. The
presence of the Sisters had made a great difference here.
By this time, we had some 30 young men in
the Seminary at Taungyi. Several of these
were entering their ninth standard. At the
La Salette Seminary in Akyab, there were 24
students. One, Bernard Taylor (Bernard Mya
Thein), had already passed his college entrance exam. Arrangements had been made
for him to travel to the Philippines. There he
could join other La Salette seminarians and
complete his studies. Up to this time, there
had yet to be a seminarian from the Prome
Diocese in the Major Seminary. For Bishop
In 1963 the bishops of Burma participated in the Second Vatican Council. The
bishop second from the right is Bp. Thomas Newman, (La Salette), Prome
(Pyay); others include: Archb. Victor Bazin (M.E.P.); Rangoon; Bp. Fernando
Guercelina (P.I.M.E), Kengtung; Bp. Jean-Baptist Gobbato (P.I.M.E), Taunggyi; Bp. John Joseph U Win, Mandalay; Bp. John James Howe, (S.S.C.M.E.),
Myitkyina.
53
Newman that hope was more than just a dream.
As for the villages, let me quote from a letter I had sent back to Father Jack Toner in January of 1962:
“It is always a good feeling to come back from a tour to see a few letters on top of my desk. As you know these
tours of ours are the real lifeblood of our mission. Through them we not only visit our people (since most of them
live in the jungle) but we make new contacts for future converts.
“Take this last tour of mine. It was in an area called Zabalat. When Father Noonan went there last year, it was the
very first time that they had seen a priest. Of the ten villages in the area, so far we have visited three. And this is
what happened in one of them.”
Then I went on to write about a village called Gwaykyo. That May after Father Jim Noonan's visit, two young boys
from that village arrived at our boarding school. Before Christmas they asked to be baptized. However they had
been in our school for such a short time. In addition they were still quite young and there were no other Catholics in
their families nor even in their village. For these reasons, I refused them – twice.
Later when Father Jim returned from a tour, they approached him and he too refused them. They argued
that their parents had agreed to their baptisms. Father
Jim assured them that they could be baptized the next
year. One boy looked at Father Jim and asked, “Father,
isn't it a big sin for anyone who knows about baptism
and isn't baptized?” Father Noonan hesitated and then
agreed. With that the boy responded, “Okay, Father. But
if anything should happen to us during the year, that big
sin would be yours, not ours!” You can only say “no” so
often; they were both baptized.
I continued in that same letter, “On this tour I arrived at
this village. What had impressed the parents was not so
much about the boys' baptisms but the fact that we had
refused them four times. I had intended to leave their village after one day but the villagers wouldn't hear of it.” In a
matter of three years, one out of three in that village of Gwaykyo were baptized. In fact they were planning to build
their own church!
Fr. Gendron watches as boarders from our Prome school air their
bed clothes
In the life of the mission, these were the best of times. Our euphoria continued right on through 1964.
The Government Changes Policies
In January of that year a new family moved into the city of Thayetmyo. The father worked for the State Timber
Board. They had three children, one in college, one in the convent and a third in the Major Seminary in Rangoon.
Kyaw Khine was finishing his first year of theology.
During his vacation, he got to know and to love the Prome mission. To his everlasting credit, Archbishop Bazin
gave him permission to join the Prome Diocese. Another young man, Po Seh, also asked to go to the Seminary.
Po Seh had just taken and passed the college entrance exams at St. Mary's School in Thayetmyo. That May, Po Seh
would be on his way to Rangoon to begin his study of Latin. Bishop Newman had waited many years for news like
this.
By this time, Father Mike Blumm had taken charge of the La Salette Seminary in Akyab. In July 1964, Father Jim
Hogan returned to the States. As it happened, he would not return to the mission.
54
Father Jim Noonan had gone home earlier for his vacation. He was having some difficulties re-entering the country.
This was the first concrete sign that the new government was about to take some action in regards to foreign
missionaries. But as the year came to an end, we could count our blessings. Father Jim Noonan was back in time for
our Christmas celebrations. By now we knew that it would be only a matter of
time before this military government would make its move.
The blow fell on April 1, 1965. All private schools were to be nationalized. Almost immediately St. Ann's School in Akyab, St. Margaret's School in Sandoway
and St. Paul's School in Prome were taken over. For unknown reasons, St. Mary's
School in Thayetmyo was left alone for a time. Since schools are closed during
the month of April, this was a convenient time for the government to act. The
children were all at home.
Fr. Blumm briefly relaxes in his
simple quarters
Recently I talked to Father Joe Kettner about the school in Prome. He recalled
how, on a day he was alone, an army officer arrived and announced that he was
taking charge of the school – boarding houses as well as the ball field. As he
remembered it, the officer never said anything like, “I'm sorry,” nor did he express a word of thanks for all the buildings that he had just confiscated.
This action on the part of the government marked an end to any real educational opportunity for the village children. This government was not at all interested in their education.
For the government it was better that these children be out working in the fields.
As for the Seminary in Taungyi, or the Major Seminary in Rangoon, since they were considered to be religious institutions, they were not affected. Not so the La Salette Seminary
in Akyab. Here the seminarians attended St. Ann's School with extra classes given by Father Mike. Once St. Ann's School was nationalized, even had the seminary remained open,
their class studies would not be certified.
By July the seminary had to close. The students could either go to the seminary in Taungyi
or attend the government schools until they passed their college entrance exams. What had
started out with so much promise now came to a sudden halt.
By August 1965, I was finally forced to leave. I had developed one health problem after
another. I realized that before long I would have been forced to leave in any case. Now I
can look back on my time in this mission as some of the happiest years of my priesthood.
By April 1966, there was more discouraging news. St. Mary's in Thayetmyo was nationalized. This we had expected. But the government went further: all temporary visas were
cancelled. Within a matter of months, Fathers Kettner, Rukus and Noonan were forced to
leave. The remaining missionaries (who had been there before 1948) could remain. But if
for any reason whatever they were to leave the country, they would never be permitted to
return.
Counting himself, Bishop Newman now had but eight men, not all of whom were in good
health. This was the darkness before the dawn.
55
CHAPTER TEN:
Faith and Trust Have Their Reward
Back in 1948, the Catholic Church of Burma suffered two great blows. The first came as a result of the revolution;
the second, from government policy. Because of the revolution, there were large sections of the mission wherein
the missionaries were simply unable to tour. The rest of the territory entrusted to them could be traveled at their
own risk. Fortunately – unlike people in other parts of the country –
none of the La Salette Missionaries lost their lives. With courage and
persistence, they held on for six long years, until finally they were free
to travel throughout their entire mission. It was during these years that
they were enabled to deepen the faith of those whom they were able to
reach.
The second blow, the restriction on entry visas, turned out to be a blessing in disguise. Because of this restriction, the major seminary in Rangoon was established. In this seminary the future leaders of the Church
would be prepared.
In 1957 Fr. John O’Reilly (left center) stands
with Fr. Lou Perpete (right center) among the
student boarders in our school in Akyab
In 1966, the Church of Burma again suffered two blows. By May 1966,
all the schools (and in the Diocese of Prome, the schools were the very
center of all mission activity) were taken over by the government.
The second blow was in the cancellation of all temporary visas. As a result, every foreign missionary who had arrived since 1948 was compelled to leave the country. By late summer 1966,
Bishop Newman had but seven of his veteran priests to cover the entire Diocese. At this time, the future seemed
very bleak indeed.
Until 1966, the sole ministry of all the Sisters working in the Diocese of Prome centered around the schools - St.
Ann's in Akyab, St. Paul's in Prome and St. Mary's in Thayetmyo. Now suddenly that ministry was denied to them.
Rather than weep over what they had lost, they were able to accept the situation, go on to plan for their future.
By 1964, the Community of St. Ann Sisters had left Thayetmyo. They were replaced by the Good Shepherd Nuns.
Yet, since most of these were not Burmese nationals, they were obliged to leave the Diocese by 1968. By now the
only remaining community left in the Diocese was that of the
Sisters of Our Lady of the Missions.
This Community had a long and interesting history in the mission field of Burma. They first arrived in Akyab in 1897 - one
hundred years ago - and established a school in Akyab, which
they named St. Ann's. Years later, in 1928, they established a
second school in Sandoway called St. Margaret's. As a Community, they were well established by the time the first La Salettes
arrived in 1937.
At the start of the war, there were twenty-one Sisters teaching
in these two schools.
St. Margaret’s English School in Sandoway
Twelve of these - and many of their students - were called back to India. At first the remaining nine Sisters were
held under house arrest in Sandoway. Four of them were eventually deemed by the Japanese as unfit for travel. They
remained in Sandoway while the others began the long trip to Rangoon. One Sister died on the way and was buried
56
in the village of Chaungtha. In fact, one of the Sisters ended up in the camp at Tavoy.
After the war, by November 1946, they returned to
reopen the school in Akyab. A few years later, they
came to Prome to take care of St. Paul's School.
The Sisters operated these two schools until May
1965.
By 1966, the Sisters, who now numbered only
nine, had become fully involved in every aspect of
mission activity. For example, when they arrived in
Thayetmyo, they immediately started to travel from
village to village. There they not only organized
catechism classes for the young, but also helped the
parents attain a deeper understanding of their faith.
They were also present at the prayer services.
Over in the Akyab mission, there is an area called
Paletwa. This section was some two days traveling
distance from Akyab. The Sisters were the first to
open a residence in that area. At the time, they had about ten villages to visit. As a result of their presence, (and that
of a priest who arrived later), there are now communicants to be found in some eighty villages in that area alone.
A group of Sisters of Our of Lady of the Missions, Akyab, 1955; one sister (second from left) comes from Britain and the other three are native
Chin from Burma
Again, speaking of Akyab, there is a letter that had been sent to Bishop Newman shortly after he had returned to
the States. This letter reveals the role and the relationship between the Sisters and the priests of the Diocese. This
letter, written by Father Bernard Taylor (Mya Thein), M.S., describes all the activity of the parish in Akyab, and concludes, “All three priests assigned to this parish have their own sections in which to work. When we are all away, we
leave the Sisters to take care of affairs here.”
It is no wonder then, that as the Sisters became more and more known throughout the territory, the people tended
to take a far greater interest in their lives and work. Young women became attracted to their community. From that
small group of nine back in 1966, they now have thirty-seven professed members, plus novices and postulants.
A special event took place in September of 1969. By this
time only two of the missionaries had parents still living
back in the States. Neither of these men had been home
for close to ten years. The La Salette Provincial, Father
Michael Cox, arranged to have the mothers of Fathers
Blumm and Dressell travel to Burma. For these two mothers, both in their mid-seventies, this was indeed a long
and challenging journey, and one they would never forget.
Father Dressell's sister, Sister Virginia, traveled with them.
1967 – Another First
The year 1967 marked the Thirtieth Anniversary of the
It was a very happy day for Bishop Thomas Newman who
arrival of the first group of La Salette Missionaries to
ordained Cornelius Kyaw Khine, the first native Burmese priest
Burma. It was also the Twenty-Fifth Anniversary of the
for the Diocese of Prome on March 19, 1967
death of Father Gardner. For Bishop Newman, there
would be another reason to remember this year. On March 19, 1967, Bishop Newman mounted the steps to the
main altar of his cathedral for the purpose of ordaining the first native priest for the Diocese of Prome. His name
57
was Cornelius Kyaw Khine. For his parents, his two sisters, and indeed for the entire Church of Prome, this was a
day never to be forgotten. Later, Bishop Newman would assign Father Kyaw Khine to the mission at Thayetmyo,
the city of his birth.
By 1971, Bernie Taylor (Mya Thein), the one and only
graduate from the La Salette Seminary in Akyab, had finished his studies in the Philippines. In July of that year,
Father Taylor was ordained in Manila for the Diocese
of Prome. Father Taylor returned to Burma in February
1972, just in time for the ordination of Raphael PoSeh.
Father PoSeh, who came from the district of Thayetmyo, was in fact the first person from the Chin people
to be ordained.
A contemporary picture (2010) of Fr. Bernie (Mya Thein) Taylor,
M.S., our first native Burmese La Salette priest, seated with some
of the orphans for the 2008 Cyclone Nargis in Myanmar
Bishop Newman now gave his new priests their assignments: He sent Father PoSeh to Thayetmyo to work
with Father Steve Dressell. And sent Father Bernie
Taylor along with Father Kyaw Khine to Akyab to work
with Father Mike Blumm.
Speaking of these first ordinations, there is one more
that I should add. That is the ordination of Father Peter
Moung Yin. When Bishop Newman ordained Father Peter in March 1973, he was the first priest ordained from the
district of Prome. After his ordination, Bishop Newman assigned him to Sandoway to assist Father John Good.
Bishop Newman had every reason to be proud of these newly ordained priests. Because of their presence, along
with the growing number of seminarians and Sisters, Bishop Newman could see how the Church had been truly
established in his section of Burma.
In a letter home he expressed himself, "In the mind of the Church, foreign missionaries have, as a primary task, the
matter of providing the local church with priests and religious sisters, sons and daughters of the soil, who are able
to evangelize and spread the Faith among their own people."
His faith and trust that this would happen, had never failed. Now, thanks to the work and perseverance of his men,
the Church of Prome was indeed a reality.
58
CHAPTER ELEVEN:
Mission Accomplished
For years Father John O'Reilly had put off the surgery that he would sooner
or later have to undergo. It might have been a simple procedure had he left the
country. Yet he knew that, once he left, he could never return. Out of love for the
mission and loyalty to his fellow missionaries, he would not – he could not – leave.
So in January 1973, he entered the Rangoon General Hospital.
The operation did not go well. Father John never recovered. Father Gendron was
there to give him the Anointing of the Sick and Viaticum. Fathers Good and
Blumm and Bishop Newman hastened to Rangoon hoping against hope for his
recovery but it was not to be. After lingering for five days, Father John O'Reilly
died on January 15. His body was transferred to Prome, where he was buried next
to Fathers Phil Gardner and Ed O'Sullivan.
For over thirty years Father John had worked in this mission. At the time of his
Fr. John O’Reilly, pastor of our
parish in Sandoway before and
death, he was only fifty-seven years old. He had suffered through the prison camp
after World War II
of Tavoy. His life had been threatened several times during the revolution. He had
lived through all that and more,
only to die so needlessly. With Father O'Reilly's death, Bishop
Newman had lost his closest confidant. Now he turned to Father
Gendron to take charge of the mission in Prome.
The death of Father O'Reilly left the remaining Missionaries with
feelings of shock, anger and doubt. Shock because he was the one
they looked upon as their leader. He was a man of both strength
and zeal, an intellectual yet a fun-loving, outgoing person. They
could only ask themselves, “Why? Why him of all people?”
There were feelings of anger not only because of the manner in
which he died but also in view of other circumstances. For
example, Father Steve Dressell was at first refused permission to
travel to Prome to attend Father John's funeral. Finally there were
feelings of doubt as they began to feel their own age and infirmities. These were the thoughts they now carried with them as they returned to their separate posts.
A special native Burmese catafalque was fashioned for
Fr. John O’Reilly’s (1915-1973) casket for his Funeral
Mass in Prome.
By April, Bishop Newman had received a letter from Father Frank Lucey. Father Frank
had arrived in Akyab back in 1938. No one had suffered more than he during those
years in Tavoy. After the war he was the first one sent back to the States. Yet once he
felt that he had recovered his strength, he came back again to serve the mission for
another twenty-six years. Many of those years he had lived by himself in the town of
Kyaukpyu. Of late, in view of his age and health, he had moved to Sandoway to be with
Father Good. Now he realized that it was time for him to leave.
In his diary on May 22, 1973, Bishop Newman noted, “Today Father Lucey left from
Rangoon. He was with us in the camp of Tavoy.” Now Bishop Newman had but five of
his veteran missionaries plus four young native priests.
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Fr. Francis Lucey, M.S.
(1911-1983)
It’s Time For Us To Leave
On November 19, Father Charles Gendron was at the airport to greet Father Frederick Flaherty. Father Flaherty,
known simply as “Bud” to his peers, had recently been elected Provincial of the
Province of Our Lady of Seven Dolors, headquartered in Hartford, Connecticut.
Perhaps it was as a result of his recent meeting with Father Lucey that he thought it
would be good for him to come to Burma and meet the remaining missionaries.
As Father Gendron drove him along the bumpy road to Prome, he mentioned to
Father Flaherty that all the men had been able to gather in Prome. For “Bud” that was
wonderful news since he had only a seven-day visa. “Why, sure,” added Father Gendron, “they're all here to listen to your retreat.”
If that news about the retreat he was expected to give gave “Bud” something to think
about, it wasn't long before Father Gendron himself had something to ponder. While
he was in Rangoon, he had forgotten to pick up the turkey for Thanksgiving Day.
Fr. Frederick R. Flaherty, M.S.,
Provincial Superior
The following night, Father Flaherty sat down to meet with the five missionaries. He knew each of them, although
not well; he had been but a high school seminarian when these men had left for the missions. On occasion he had
met with each of them while they were home on leave but that was all.
Father Flaherty had no special agenda. He simply wanted to hear what these men had in mind. This was the first
gathering of the Missionaries since the death of Father O'Reilly. So they spoke of his death and the circumstances
that surrounded it. Then they spoke of their own frustrations in not being able to travel even within their own
mission posts. Their ministry, especially that of visiting the villages, had to be carried on by the native priests. Only
once a year were they able to gather together as they were now. In the words of Father Dressell, “We are being held
under house arrest.”
When asked by Father Flaherty what they thought should be done, their answer was simple. It was time for them to
leave, maybe not immediately but in a year or so. At present there were only four native priests; yet in the seminary
there were five young men who had just started their third year of theology studies. Once they were ordained, the
Diocese would have the necessary number of men to carry on.
Then the La Salettes should be free to leave.
Father Flaherty could only respond by assuring them that he had
heard them and would support them. He would first speak with the
Bishop and then bring up the matter with his consultors once he
was back in the States.
Needless to say, Bishop Newman rejected the entire idea. He was
not ready even to conceive of the idea of the La Salette Missionaries leaving the country. He could recall a time during the revolution when this idea was first raised – not by the missionaries but by
people back in the States who were concerned about their safety.
Given time, peace finally came to the country, and the work of the
Church went on. Hopefully this would happen again. In his diary
Bishop Newman noted for November 1973, “Father Flaherty came
and preached a three-day retreat.” There was no mention of any meeting.
(back row, from left) Fr. Lucey, Msgr. Newman and
Fr. Good with some students in earlier days
By the beginning of 1974, there were more government restrictions on travel even within the townships. These
restrictions were placed upon all the foreign missionaries. In Thayetmyo, Fathers Steve Dressell and Raphael PoSeh
60
were stationed together. By now Father Steve could travel no further than the leper colony. That left the task of
visiting the villages which number over eighty to Father PoSeh.
In Akyab Father Mike Blumm, stationed here for almost fifteen years, had developed a good working relationship
with the local government officials. For years he had
been able to travel throughout his mission. With
these new restrictions, his travel had become more
and more difficult. The burden of touring had to be
borne by Fr. Bernie Taylor and Fr. Cornelius Kyaw
Khine – Bp. Newman’s first ordination in the Diocese of Prome.
First Mass of Fr. Cornelius Kyaw Khine with Fr. Gendron (1917-2005,
on far right) as Archpriest (assistant) and Bp. Newman in center rear.
In Sandoway, Father John Good was now sixty-five
years old. Even without these new government limits on travel, it was becoming more difficult for him
to get around. The recently ordained Father Moung
Yin (the one who took the place of Father Lucey)
would tour the villages.
Only in Prome were Fathers Perpete and Gendron
free to continue their tours. Even here they began to feel the pressure.
The months passed with no word from Hartford. The men could only wonder as to what their future would be.
Still this lack of news could only be taken as a good sign by Bishop Newman. Perhaps, at last, he could set his fears
aside. Now the work itself would go on as before.
Once again in November 1974 all the men but Father Good gathered in Prome. This time it was Father John McWeeney, Father Flaherty's first assistant, who had come for a visit. If anyone knew what had been decided, it would
be he.
Father “Mac”, as he was called, informed the missionaries that the Provincial Council had agreed upon a decision
according to which all the missionaries should be withdrawn as soon as feasible, that is, as soon as there were a
sufficient number of native priests to carry on the ministry within the Diocese of Prome. This was a decision of the
Provincial Council and so it would have to be submitted to Rome for final
approval. Later Father McWeeney reported, “Once I told the missionaries of the
decision there were no objections. Only a sense of relief.”
Bishop Newman, however, was deeply disappointed. Once more he reaffirmed
his intentions to stay in Burma for the rest of his years. Unlike the previous year,
Bishop Newman wrote in his diary, “Reverend John McWeeney, First Provincial
Councilor, Hartford Province arrives for a visit. All the La Salettes are present in
Prome, except for Father Good who failed to obtain a travel permit. Discussions
on the withdrawal of the La Salette Fathers and handing over of the Diocese to
diocesan clergy.” In his very writing you can feel his displeasure.
Father McWeeney left Rangoon on December 1 and flew on to Rome. There
he presented the decision of the Hartford Provincial Council to Reverend Emil
Truffer, the Superior General of the La Salette Congregation. His Council would
have to approve that decision and then present it to the Vatican.
Back in Prome Bishop Newman must have realized that this provincial deci61
Fr. John McWeeney, M.S., Provincial
Assistant, here leading Benediction
in the Hartford Chapel, takes time to
visit our Missionaries in Burma
sion, once presented to the authorities in Rome, would be the first crack in the dam. Once this process was started,
events would follow like a flood. Looking toward the future, he knew that he would have to act.
So on January 15, 1975, he sent a petition to Rome asking for the appointment of an Auxiliary Bishop for the
Diocese of Prome. As he explained in a letter to Father Toner, he did this, “in view of my age, my health and
because of the new travel ban. Because of it, I cannot meet my people any more.”
However all those cares and
concerns were set aside on
a day never to be forgotten
– March 15, 1975. There in
Prome, in the presence of all
his priests and more than 2,000
of his people, Bishop Newman ordained five young men
as priests for the service of
God in the Diocese of Prome.
In all his dreams, he had never
thought that he would see a day
like this. Now no matter what
would happen, the future of
the Church was secure in this
section of Burma.
Bp. Newman with first Burmese Diocesan ordination class, 1975; (L to R) Frs. C. Gendron, C.
Less than a month later, Bishop Kyaw Khine, A. Pyone Cho (new Bp. of Prome/Pyay), J. Good, D. Po Htaike, G. Taik Maung
(retired Auxiliary Bp. of Prome/Pyay), S. Dressell, Bp. Newman, Frs. L. Perpete, P. Pyone Yee,
Newman received word from
M. Blumm, C. Tun Tin, R. Po Seh, and B. Taylor (missing: Peter Maung Yin)
Rome. Official approval had
been given to the decision of the Hartford Provincial Council. The La Salette Missionaries would be withdrawn
from Burma.
Once again Bishop Newman saw that it was time for him to act. In three years, according to Church law, he would
have to submit his resignation and then what? Because of the respect that the Burmese always showed to their
elders, no other Bishop would ever be able to govern while he remained in Burma. The needs of the Church in
Prome were more important to Bishop Newman than any personal desire that he had for himself.
On June 3, Bishop Newman sent a second petition to Rome. In this he canceled his original request for an Auxiliary
Bishop. Now he offered his resignation as well as the request that Rome nominate a new Bishop for the Diocese of
Prome.
If, in fact, Bishop Newman had any doubts concerning the wisdom of the La Salette Missionaries leaving Burma,
they were settled for him a few weeks later. On June 21, Father Good arrived in Prome to say farewell. Only then
did Bishop Newman fully realize how poor Father Good's health was. In a letter he wrote, “Hopefully, once he is
back home, he will regain his strength and have many more years of fruitful ministry.”
Father Good and Father Perpete left together from Rangoon on July 3, 1975. Two months later, on September 4,
Father Steve Dressell also left from Rangoon. Together these three missionaries had given eighty-six years of service to the Catholic Church in Burma.
On October 28, the L'Osservatore Romano, the official Vatican newspaper, announced the nomination of Father
Joseph Thaung Shwe as the new Bishop of Prome. He was a parish priest from the city of Rangoon. At the time of
his nomination, he was forty years old. He had been a priest for fourteen years. Bishop Newman was delighted with
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this selection.
On February 2, 1976, Archbishop Edward Cassidy, the Apostolate Delegate, arrived in Prome for the ordination
of the second Bishop of Prome. There were eight other Bishops present, along with over forty priests and people
from every area of the Diocese. The Archbishop began by saying, “Today is a very special day for the Church in the
Diocese of Prome; it is an historic event that will never be repeated again. This episcopal ordination of the second
Bishop of Prome marks the end of one era and the beginning of a new one in the history of the Church in this
part of Burma.”
Bishop Newman later wrote home, “With advancing age, inability to make the long tours on foot between villages
and failing eyesight, the time came when I was obliged for the good of the Church to submit my resignation to the
Holy Father. And so, on February 2, a young native priest, Fr. Joseph Thaung Shwe, was ordained as the second
Bishop of Prome. For us, it was a day of joy; for we had founded a local Church with its own native Bishop and
clergy. And a day of sadness; for it marked the handing over of our beloved mission to which the La Salette Fathers
had devoted themselves for forty years.”
Bishop Newman had intended to leave the country the following month. Due to government regulations, however,
it was not until June 6, 1976, that he left Rangoon to make his final report to the Holy Father.
It was August 1976 before the last two missionaries left Prome for the final time. They could recall back in 1946
when they had first arrived, how they had found all the churches, schools and convents had been destroyed. Their
people had been scattered and contact with most of them had been lost. At most they had only 1,500 people left in
the entire mission.
As they left, it was now the Diocese of Prome – a Diocese with its own native Bishop, priests and sisters. In all
there must be about 11,000 people. Throughout the Church of Prome, there was a feeling of strength and hope for
the future. The two missionaries could look at each other and say, “Our mission has been accomplished.” With that,
Fathers Mike Blumm and Charles Gendron were on their way home.
La Salette Missionaries (from left): Frs. John Blumm, John Good, Stephen Dressell, Bp. Thomas Newman, Frs.
Louis Perpete, Charles Gendron, John O’Reilly, and Francis Lucey.
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POSTSCRIPT: by Bishop Thomas Newman, M.S., D.D.
These fitting reflections are from the pen of the Most Reverend Thomas M.
Newman, M.S., D.D., first Bishop of the Diocese of Prome, Burma, following his thirty-nine years of service to God and humanity in the La Salette
Missions of Burma (Myanmar). In the winter of 1976 he wrote:
It seems now only a short while ago that a group of five young Missionaries
of La Salette set out from New York to found a new mission in Burma, a
small country out beyond India on the borders of China and Thailand. I can
remember now our youthful enthusiasm and sense of high adventure. It was
in 1937, and now three of those priests lie buried in a little cemetery behind
the Cathedral of St. Paul in Prome.
As the Church was born in the agony and death of its founder, so today it
takes root and grows only from the sufferings and sacrifices of those who
go forth, carrying the Cross in (Christ’s) Name. That was the lesson we
were to learn over the next four decades of years. ‘Without the shedding of
blood, there is no salvation.’ We were to build the Church that is now called
the Diocese of Prome, in tears, sweat and blood; but how could it have been
otherwise?
Bp. Thomas Newman, M.S., D.D. (b. 1903,
d. 1978)
Early Struggles and Imprisonment
Of our early years in the mission, I remember now our struggles to acquire the Burmese language and to adapt ourselves to the strange customs and way of life of the primitive people among whom we suddenly found ourselves.
We travelled long miles on foot and by native dugouts, going from village to village in order to become acquainted
with the people and the territory that had been confided to us by the Holy See.
We built some churches, opened some primary schools and founded several orphanages. But then World War II
reached Burma, and in a few months the whole country was overrun by the Japanese Army, and for the next three
years and a half we found ourselves confined to a prison camp. They were years of hardship and starvation, but
they were fruitful years, too, when we had time to pray and plan for the future of the mission. I remember now how
we would sit together at night, in the long hours of darkness – we had no light in the camp – and make plans as
though we were convinced that we would survive the war and one day return to the mission. And so we did, though
there were times when it was not all that certain.
One day the Japanese rang the camp siren and called all the prisoners to a final roll call at which they announced
that the war was over and that Japan and the allies had signed a treaty of peace. A month later we were back in a
mission that had been completely destroyed. All that we had accomplished in those first five years lay in ruins.
From Ruins – New Horizons
But as the years passed, new Missionaries of La Salette came out to join us, and slowly the mission grew and developed; the number of Christians increased. We built a network of churches and village chapels. We multiplied our
primary, middle and high schools, staffed by devoted nuns of the Congregation of Our Lady of the Missions. We
established a leprosarium for the many people afflicted by this dread disease – people until that time unwanted and
uncared for.
Looking back now, I seem to recall not so much the hardships or the discouraging periods of our mission life but
rather the happy, consoling events that, like milestones, marked off the passing years. The memory returns now of a
64
Christmas Eve when Father John Good and myself baptized sixty-four adults in the Natsinkyaung area of the mission. That was for us in those days, a real breakthrough. Two years before I had celebrated the Christmas Midnight
Mass there with nearly two hundred people in attendance and only the catechist and myself received Holy Communion. There were no baptized Catholics in the congregation. We had been advised that there was little hope of
the Catholic faith spreading in that area. The people were worshippers of evil spirits, and were known for their evil
practices. Yet today that area is one of the most promising of the Diocese.
Other happy events that I will always remember are the days when we ordained our first priests from the Chin and
Karen tribes, and girls from the same tribes made their religious profession. From our earliest years we were always
selecting promising boys and girls to form and train as priests and sisters who would one day staff the mission
themselves. It was a work of patience with many disappointments.
It was only in 1967, thirty years after our arrival in Burma, that we had the happiness of ordaining our first priest.
March 15, 1975, was our ‘red letter’ day when a class of five young priests received ordination at the Cathedral in
Prome. In the mind of the Church, foreign missionaries have, as a primary task, the matter of providing the local
church with priests and religious sisters, sons and daughters of the soil, who are able to evangelize and spread the
Catholic faith among their own people.
God’s Valiant Heroes
Looking back over the years now, one recalls the good days and the bad days as well as all the things that one had
hoped to do and that have been left undone. But I suppose if we had remained in the mission another twenty years
or more, our reactions would still be the same. They were years of happiness and consolation, broken now and then
by suffering and hardship, as when we buried our dead — the gentle Father Wenceslaus Weselak, who lived with us
only three months, dying of tropical fever; Father Philip Gardner, a victim of the violence of war; Father Edward
O'Sullivan, who died in a motor accident; Father John Doherty, whose missionary life lasted only a year and a half;
and the gallant veteran, Father John O'Reilly, who labored with us for thirty-two years.
No remembrance of our long years of missionary endeavor would be complete without invoking the names of
these valiant missionaries around whom centered so much of our activity and achievement. Their graves remain as
permanent memorials of the years that La Salette has devoted to the life of the Catholic Church in Burma.
The Church Continues Her Mission
With advancing age, inability to make the long tours on foot and failing eyesight, the day came when I was obliged –
for the good of the Church – to submit to the Holy Father my resignation as Bishop of Prome. And so on February 2, 1976, a young native Bishop, Joseph Thaung Shwe, was ordained as the second Bishop of Prome. It was a
day for us of joy and of sadness; of joy because we had founded a local Church with a native Bishop and clergy of
its own; and a day of sadness because it marked the handing over of our beloved mission to which the La Salette
Fathers had devoted themselves for forty years.
(visual of lady standing in that place) The day of the episcopal ordination of Bishop Thaung Shwe takes its place
also among our memories of Burma. On a raised platform elaborately decorated, close to the banks of the fabled
Irrawaddy River, in the shadows of the Arakan-Yoma mountain range, the Apostolic Delegate for Burma ordained
the young Bishop, with the eight Bishops of Burma acting as co-consecrators.
A congregation of over two thousand people, representing all the villages of the Diocese participated in the solemn
Mass. It was the beginning of a new era for the Diocese of Prome. For the Missionaries of La Salette, it was the
close of another glorious chapter in the history of the Congregation.
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With the Help of Many Friends
But no memories of our long years in the mission of Burma would be complete without our recalling gratefully the
ever generous help and tremendous support we received from the Society for the Propagation of the Faith and its
devoted Diocesan Directors; also from the members of our La Salette Mission Clubs through their unfailing interest and concern and oftentimes incredible personal sacrifices; from numberless other friends and benefactors who
in one way or another were part of an uninterrupted lifeline of spiritual and material assistance.
Without this unceasing flow of aid from the very beginnings of the mission, there is little we would have been able
to accomplish in spreading the Catholic faith among our people. Our churches and schools, our orphanages and
leprosarium will stand as monuments to the faith and spirit of sacrifice of our co-missionaries in North America.
But even more important and of far greater value than the buildings and institutions we have been able to erect are
the priests and sisters whom we have been able to educate and train because of the generous and continual support
that we received from our friends at home.
We can only express our heartfelt gratitude to them by assuring them of our prayers and a remembrance of them in
our daily Masses always. And most earnestly do we ask for their prayers, often, for our Burma Mission, that God in
his goodness may cause it to continue to flourish and prosper in the years that lie ahead.
Jesus said: “Go, therefore, and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the
Son, and of the holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you. And behold, I am with you
always, until the end of the age. (Matthew 28:18-20)”
The parting words of Our Lady of La Salette were: “You will make this (message) known to all my people.”
(seated, from left): Fr. John Good, Bp. Thomas Newman, Fr. Kyaw Khine; (standing,
from left): Frs. John Blumm, Louis Perpete, John O’Reilly and Stephen Dressell
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