In Remembrance of My Father's Trunk

by Calla Jones Corner

My father, Robert Arthur Jones in Canton 1945 as a member of OWI

Perhaps we all have our first memories of celebrating Memorial Day. Mine comes from 1945 when my father returned from the Pacific Theater of World War II.

I was only two years old.

My father didn't have to go to war; he had a family and was "safe" from the draft. Nevertheless, he volunteered after being recruited by the newly founded OWI (Office of War Information). The OWI wanted men and women, like my father, whose graphics, photography, writing, and communication skills at J. Walter Thompson, the world-wide advertising agency, had been noted and would help defeat the Japanese.

He felt it was his patriotic duty and was buoyed, no doubt, by having close friends with families that had volunteered

I believe that there was also a sense of the "romance" of going to fight in far-off lands that perhaps could be found in men of his generation. It was the big black trunk, filled with so many exotic and beautiful things from his 18 months in China, Burma, and India, that fuels my belief that my father was a romantic adventurer as well as a patriot.

The trunk's contents – a beautiful cashmere jacket from Kashmir, sapphires, and diamonds from Burma, jade from China for my mother, silver filigreed bracelets, dolls in unusual clothing for me and my sister, many pairs of black lacquered chopsticks for family and friends (my father's Cantonese assistant taught my father how to cook delicious Cantonese dishes) and over 2,000 photos and many diaries containing his fascinating work and adventures, which would keep him alive for four years while he battled pancreatic cancer in his late 60s to write High Road to China.

The book was the idea of my father's agent, Lucy Kroll of the Kroll Agency, who adored my father and her more famous other clients, including James Earl Jones, Carl Sandburg, Norman Mailer, Lilian Gish, Alex Haley, Helen Hayes, Jonas Salk among others). She died at the age of 87 in 1997 and James Earl Jones gave the eulogy at her funeral. Lucy had a true gift for spotting talent and when she saw the photos and read the diaries, she immediately knew there was a book there. 

On most days, my father would go to his studio, attached to my parent's ivy-covered cottage in Chatham, Cape Cod, and write a few pages from his diaries, helped by his unique photos; he was the first American to go over the Burma Road (hence the title) and was in Canton when the Japanese surrendered and caught the ceremony on camera, even though the disease took increasingly more of his strength. Lucy would fly up to Chatham every few months to check on my father and the book. 

My father did finish the book and my mother had one copy bound after my father died. She left it up to me to edit and to caption the photos. Now that I am settled in France, I shall finish the job.

The book is staring at me as I write. Memorial Day would be as good as any other day to start and complete a unique, wonderful, and very interesting journey that few know about.

Duty calls. 

Robert Arthur Jones

The Burma Road

My father on right on Burma Road

My father's pamphlets that he and his team produced in the jungles of Assam India and dropped via US Air Force over the Chinese population and Japanese army.

Two Kachin Rangers wearing their OSS silver medals rewarded for extreme bravery in defeat of Japanese enemies.

My father, Robert Arthur Jones, during a pit stop on the Burma Road.