Recently, Senator Inouye has brought to light the internment of residents of Hawaii during World War II. Resident aliens (who were mostly Japanese, but also European citizens) were incarcerated in at least eight locations on Hawaii including Honouliuli Gulch, Sand Island, and the U.S. Immigration Station on Oahu, the Kilauea Military Camp on the Big Island, Haiku Camp and Wailuku County Jail on Maui, and the Kalaheo Stockade and Waialua County Jail on Kauai.
In fact, within one week of the attack on Pearl Harbor, the FBI detained 370 Japanese, 98 German and 14 Italians. Almost all of the Japanese detainees were men; of the European detainees many were women. During the course of the war, 1441 persons of Japanese ancestry were picked up for internment. This was .9% of the 160,000 Japanese living in Hawaii.

Among those aliens detained at the U.S. Immigration Station at Fort Armstrong was Gertrude Erika Shroeder. Gertrude was a seventeen-year-old student at the University of Hawaii. She was a graduate of Sacred Hearts Academy and was boarding at Sacred Hearts while attending the university. Her story begins with an entry from the Journal of the Community of the Sacred Hearts.” December 10, 1941. The only girl still with us, Gertrude Schroeder, born in Germany, has been taken away from us and taken to Sand Island. Great is our consternation as we know full well how innocent and harmless she is. Yet nothing can be done to release her.”

Actually, Gertrude Erika Schroeder was not taken to Sand Island Relocation Camp, she was detained at Fort Armstrong; it was six weeks before the sisters obtained her release.

I met Gertrude Schroeder by chance while I doing research at the Sacred Hearts Community Archives in Kaimuki. I had read that one of the Sisters of the Sacred Hearts was interned during the war and I was curious why that particular nun was considered a threat. I discovered it wasn’t a nun who was detained, but a 1941 graduate of Sacred Hearts Academy—a seventeen-years-old student at the University, who was a boarder at the convent on Nuuanu Avenue. Her name was Gertrude Erika Schroeder. She was a German citizen, born in Germany and immigrated to Hawaii with her parents as a child.

When the Sacred Hearts archivist, Charlene Alipio, asked me who I was researching, I told her about the interned nun. Then she asked, “Do you want to meet her? She lives here.” Ms. Alipio led me down a hallway as she spoke. I had mixed feelings. Of course, I wanted to meet Gertrude, but I would have rather set up an appointment and let her know what my project was about without springing a visit on her, but Ms. Alipio insisted we meet immediately.

I waited in the corridor, standing next to a life-sized unidentified statue. I was rehearsing my apology for intruding on the sister. I estimated her age to be 83, and was unsure of her willingness to talk about World War II. From behind the closed door, I overheard that the sister had just returned from the doctors, and I heard bits of encouragement from Ms. Alipio for sister to meet me. Then, the door swung open and Sr. Gertrude Maria came forward.

Sr. Gertrude Maria used a walker, she was so hunched over it caused her to focus on the floor in front of her. I was sure this was a mistake, but then she looked up at me, smiled and said, “After all these years, somebody wants to hear my story.”

Our first meeting was brief. We sat at a patio set in an open courtyard. Next to us was a cafeteria table covered with a work in progress of a mosaic tile portrait of Father Damien about the size of a stained glass window.

Sr. Gertrude settled in the shade. Her hair is an absolute white, devoid of any color, her skin is fair and smooth, her manner is gracious, and her voice is elegant. She is at one time, physically frail, yet mentally bold, direct and clear. During one of our visits I asked if she was red-headed when she was young, and she answered that she was and wanted to know why I would presume that. “You have the passion of a red head,” I answered. She laughed and told me that she was often told she was quite strong-willed.

Sister’s story weaves through the stories of other Europeans who were detained at Fort Armstrong. Sr. Gertrude Marie remembers, “On the morning of December 7, I was at Mass, sitting in a back pew. Looking up through the window, I could see planes spiraling overhead. When Mass was over I wanted to go up to the third floor to see what was going on, but a sister stopped me and said I wasn’t allowed.” Gertrude asked the sister why she couldn’t. “Then she told me there was a war on.”

Sister Gertrude Maria was born in Rostack, Germany. Her father was a German citizen by birth. Her mother was an Australian by birth, but was considered a German citizen by marriage. When war broke out, Gertrude suspected that the authorities would request her to show her identification papers. So, she gathered them together. She never suspected that she would be detained.

She remembers that the night of December 7, 1941 a blackout was imposed; no lights could be visible. There was no exception for religious traditions. But according to Catholic tradition, the Blessed Sacrament had to be continually lit. “Mother Louise did not extinguish the candle in the sisters’ chapel and when an air raid warden came in to tell her the candle had to be put out, she tried to explain her reasoning, to no avail. So we moved the candle under the altar, but the flame shone through the stained glass window.”

Sr. Julie Louise, another sister who lived at the Kaimuki convent, wrote in her memoirs that she remembers hearing a loudspeaker outside. “It blasted, ‘Corner of Sixth and Waialae, get that light off!’ Mother moved the candle again, but it still could be seen. After the third warning, the candle was extinguished.”
Sr. Gertrude Maria remembers that on the night of December 7, 1941, “A young secretary from one of the military bases spent the night with us. She knew one of the sisters and asked if she could stay at the convent. She had seen the bombing and was so afraid she cowered at the clap of any loud noise. The woman couldn’t even stay in a room by herself so the sisters put her in with me. During the night, she held my hand any time there was a loud noise.
“The next day in the paper [Honolulu Advertiser] there was news that the Japanese had landed behind St. Louis College which was just up the hill from us. The day following that, I went to Benediction. Sr. Mary was in charge of the door. As I was walking back from the chapel to the dorm, Sr. Mary came to me and said that there was a man waiting for me in the parlor. She said the man was wearing a Honolulu Police Department uniform.”

Sr. Gertrude Maria explained, “Since I was a German citizen and had to periodically register with the Immigration Service. I had been expecting the police to come to verify my papers but the police officer didn’t ask for my papers, he asked if I would accompany but did not say to where. I asked him if I would be home for supper and he assured me I would. I then went to my room to get my purse, my alien card and a warm jacket. It was fortuitous that I took my jacket because Fort Armstrong was cold at night. Those were the only clothes I had with me for my seven weeks of internment. I could still visualize my skirt; it was red-plaid.”

I’ll continue the story of Sr. Gertrude Maria in the next column. The quotes from the Sisters’ journal is from the Journal
of the Community of the Sisters of the Sacred Hearts. Volume 1935-1949. Translated from French by Sr. Mary Rose Gordon, S.S, C.C.
My thanks go to Ms. Charlene Alipio, Archivists for the Sisters of the Sacred Hearts, for permission to use their collection and for pushing both me and Sr. Gertrude Maria to meet.