On our first morning at work we wondered what was in store for us. All the airmen were formed up in the yard in ranks of four, and with several guards and a Japanese officer we were marched out of the gates along through the town with a number of spectators watching, then on to a rock chipping road where we heard machine gun fire in the distance, then across fields and eventually arriving at Batavia Airport.
After some consultation between the officer in charge of us and those in charge at the airport, we were marched to the runway which had been devastated by three charges detonated at intervals which left huge craters along it. There were several other craters that had been caused by bombing. We were then marched twenty men to a crater and given tools which consisted of a wicker basket with a pole through for two men to lift and a three sided wooden tray, which was to be filled using a mattock and hammers to break the rock.
Work began in the sweltering heat watched over by Japanese soldiers, the slings and baskets had to be loaded full, the trays weighed twenty eight pounds when full and had to be picked up by one man and carrier to the crater and tipped, then back again and refilled. This was accompanied by constant shouts of “Speedo, Speedo”, it was going to be an awful day. Any man appearing not to do his best was beaten, some were made to hold an empty oil drum over his head at arms length then beaten when they could not carry on.
At lunch break our meal consisted of rice packed in a two inch deep rectangular box with a small piece of fish which we were allowed to eat in the shelter of the palm trees. Our meal over, it was back to work with no let up. We would have liked to change about with the work, but it didn't seem a good idea to chance anything which might aggravate our captors and cause further beatings.
At last we were told to put our tools together, leave them and form up ready to march back to prison. We were dead beat and fortunately they didn't worry too much about our marching together until we reached the main roads. Halted at the gates of the prison we were then counted before entering, locked in our cells and food brought shortly afterwards. The usual diet again. Not much was said as we sat or laid down feeling completely exhausted and almost too tired to eat.
After the meal and a drink, we began to talk and discussed our various experiences of the day. Some had removed their shirts and been badly sunburnt, some had blistered hands and others sore shoulders from carrying heavy loads. Unexpectedly, during the evening a RAF medical officer appear at the bars of our cells accompanies by a guard asking if anyone was unwell. He told those suffering from sunburn to come to the bars then rubbed them with ointment warning them to wear their shirts in future as he hadn't much hope of getting further supplies of medication.
There was another roll call that night. We carried on in the same pattern for a fortnight. The searing heat and the pace at which we had to work , plus the lack of decent food began to take its toll, we were unable to go on being pushed to our very limits. With no rest, raw hands and diarrhoea, then dysentry, work was slowing so we suffered more beatings and blows with rifle butts, we just couldn't go on.
That night the M.O. came to the cell bars and was furious when he saw the state we were in. He told us he would try to see the Commandant with the C.O.
The next day we were not called for work so just sat or laid resting until afternoon when the door was unlocked, we were then herded out and put into ranks on the square. The camp Commandant then addressed us and said that we had worked hard so had been given the day off. Some restrictions were to be lifted but would be renewed if we didn't behave. Then our C.O. spoke to us saying he had had a talk with the Commandant regarding our working and living conditions. He had told him there would be no prisoners left to do any work if there were no immediate improvements.
The changes to be made were that the cell doors were to be left open and if we so wished we could sleep outside the yard. We were not to stroll about outside and must not collect into groups. Washing facilities were to be made in the yard and another concession which pleased us greatly, was that RAF and army cooks would take over the preparation of food. The rice and stew was to be put into tubs and collected from the cook house by men from each cell, the grandly named stew consisted of some type of greens, the water it was cooked in plus an occasional potato and the liquid. We were each to keep our own tin bowl and dish. Food was our top priority, so this news alone was much welcomed by all.
Our spirits were lifted with all this information and that evening after roll call I moved my blanket outside along with a few other. It was great to lay under the purple sky looking up at the stars. I slept well that night free from bugs at last. Our blankets and any belongings still had to be kept in our cells at all times, except when in use.
There were always guards present in the yard, they had to be saluted or bowed to and were pretty troublesome at times, we never knew when to expect a beating. The real purpose of going outside was to wash or do washing.
Toilet facilities were to be made in the year as the holes in the cell floors were full of flies and were the main cause of the dysentry which had broken out. The RAF officers, who up until that time had been placed in the various cells along with us men, were now moved into one cell together and were put in charge of various sections of men as we were marched to work.
At the airfield we were now allocated a ten minute rest time, four men at each interval, depending on the guard, sometime we weren't so lucky. We were being driven as hard as ever but it was a relief to know there wold be the occasional rest, no one slackened, things were a little better and it was in our interest to keep it that way.
Over the next few days cubicles were built out of the bug ridden table tops by some of the prisoners and placed in the centre of the yard over the main drainage channel that run under the prison wall through an iron grille. This was a cement channel eighteen inches deep and approximately twelve inches wide, designed to cope with the tropical downpours. The cubicles straddled this drain and were to be our toilets. There was running water from a fire hose, this was placed in the channel for flushing purposed each morning and evening for our use before leaving for work and upon return. The cell toilets were clean and not used again. Other cubicles were made with gratings to stand on, so we were able to wash and have hand showers. Water for this purpose was obtained from a tap in the yard. Behind the prison was a small river into which all the sewage ran. On the opposite bank live Javanese in bamboo huts. Their toilets were cubicles place on bamboo rafts moored to the bank, so all their waste went into this river in which they also bathed and did their washing.
The memoirs of a Japanese prisoner of The Second World War 1942-1945. By Frank Planton.
Friday, 28 January 2011
7: Hard Labour, Batavia Airfield - Part 1.
Friday, 21 January 2011
6: Batavia, Bouie Glodok Prison
We were put into some sort of order and marched off feeling better for the food and rest, but awfully tired as it was our fourth night without proper sleep. I've no idea how long we marched, time didn't count anymore, someone else has control of us, so, we just did or acted as instructed. It began to sink into my brain that I had to think for myself, survival was to be the aim and how to achieve it. I had no knowledge of what to expect or what lay ahead ad wondered, can I stand what was to come with no control over my future.
Eventually we halted outside a large building, double doors were opened into what appear to be the entrance to a railway station booking office with a window and a door at each side. There were also double doors with guards at the other end of the room. A Japanese officer was counting us into groups of twenty, bringing his sword down between each group. We were then roughly searched and moved on through the far end double doors into a yard. We now realised this was a prison. We stood waiting until a large number of us had assembled and were then marched to the cells. I was put in a cell which had a cement floor and walls, one of which had iron bars from half way up the wall to the ceiling, together with another seventy nine men. The cell measured twenty feet by twenty feed and had a large bar door which was slammed shut. There were two small light bulbs which didn't shed much light, with wooden tables set up closely together in rows which some of us had to sleep on. Others slept on the floor beneath them with one blanket for each man. A hole in the corner was the toilet, two barrels of water was our supply for drinking, washing and flushing the toilet.
After spending nights sleeping rough on cement roads I thought wood wouldn't feel as hard, but dead tired as we were we had an awful night. The joins in the tables were full of bugs that bit us all over.
Daylight came and we had a chat to decide how we should use our water supply. It was agreed that drinking water was a priority, so decided one barrel was to be kept solely for that purpose, the other to be used for washing, the toilet to be flushed with dirty water only We washed with friends, sharing a bowl of water between four.
Breakfast came, a shallow aluminium bowl measuring approximately six inches across with an inch of rice in the bottom, pressed down by being stacked on one another. They were brought by Javanese convicts who seemed to be in charge of the cooking and distribution. We were also given small pudding shaped basins, the contents of which looked like cooked privet hedge clippings. Most of us sampled it but found we were not yet hungry enough to eat much of it, thinking the next meal must be better. The morning was spent talking amongst ourselves and wondering what was going to happen to us next, we felt we couldn't live under the present conditions for long. We busied ourselves trying to rid the tables of bugs. It was impossible for all of us to stand and move about at the same time, our space was limited and understandably no one wanted to be near the toilet.
Lunch came. It was a repeat of our breakfast menu but, as I was beginning to feel very hungry and this seemed likely to be our diet, my thoughts were that I had better get used to it, so down it went. We passed the afternoon just chatting until dinner was served that night, our usual rice and hedgerow greens plus the luxury of small tins or corned beef, which was shared on tin between seven men which we mixed in with our rice, it seemed quite a feast.
The next morning after breakfast we were driven out of our cells and gathered together in the yard, the guards acting as was to become their standard behaviour, jabbing with their bayonets and rifle butts to move things along.
An address from the Japanese Commandant was read out by his interpreter informing us that anyone attempting or being caught escaping would be shot and that we were to be put to whatever work they desired. We were then each handed a paper stating that we agree to that work and told to sign on the bottom. It did not specify what type of work we would be put to. Our senior officer, a Group Captain then told us not to sign as it was against Geneva Convention for P.O.W.'s to be put to work on military installations, which he thought was probably the work we were intended for. We could do any other task that did not help the enemy forces. We then returned to the cells.
The following day the guards arrived, hurled the door open, charged in and herded us out into the yard. Our Group Captain then told us he had been informed that twelve airmen and twelve soldiers had been taken from their cells and were facing execution within hours if we didn't sign the papers given to us. If we still didn't comply when the executions had been carried out, another twenty four men would be shot and so on until the papers had been signed. He then said he could not gamble with the men's lives and would take responsibility for our signing under duress. We duly signed and handed the papers to the guards.
We were informed we would be put to work the following day and each handed a piece of cloth which had a number printed thereon, mine being 132, and told to sew it to the back of our shirts. On our brief outings into the yard we could see that the prison was divided into two parts, all RAF personnel were in cells and the army prisoners were kept in barracks. The cells were situated round the large yard and backing onto a twenty feet high concrete wall with gun posts at every corner. The cells were of varying sizes and together held about four hundred airmen. Our food, on arrival, was pushed one bowl at a time under the barred door. Overlooking the yard was a large building which housed the Japanese. Situated in the centre of the building were the double doors where we passed through when going to work and returning. We later discovered the prison was called Bouie Glodok which was a criminal gaol for murderers and desperate criminals.
Early next morning the cell door opened and a Japanese officer with guards in attendance entered, we lined up for roll call and had to number off. This we did but were told that in future we would have to reply with Japanese numerals. This roll call was to be a regular order first thing in the morning and last thing at night, which was an obvious check to see that no man went missing.
The learning of Japanese numerals was a rather painful process, the officer would call ICHI, NEI, SAN (one, two, three) etc as he went along the line and each prisoner repeated whatever number he happened to be at. After about a week, we were expected to call our number in Japanese without any prompting, which caused an awful panic some mornings when some of the men only feeling confident with one number such as six or twelve, would try to get six or twelfth in line, any mistakes were rewarded with a lump round the face. Needless to say we learned very quickly. After roll call came our usual breakfast and then half an hour later we had to be ready to march to work. Whenever we were required outside the cell, the door would open and guards would rush in and drive us all out like cattle with rifle butts and bayonets.
Eventually we halted outside a large building, double doors were opened into what appear to be the entrance to a railway station booking office with a window and a door at each side. There were also double doors with guards at the other end of the room. A Japanese officer was counting us into groups of twenty, bringing his sword down between each group. We were then roughly searched and moved on through the far end double doors into a yard. We now realised this was a prison. We stood waiting until a large number of us had assembled and were then marched to the cells. I was put in a cell which had a cement floor and walls, one of which had iron bars from half way up the wall to the ceiling, together with another seventy nine men. The cell measured twenty feet by twenty feed and had a large bar door which was slammed shut. There were two small light bulbs which didn't shed much light, with wooden tables set up closely together in rows which some of us had to sleep on. Others slept on the floor beneath them with one blanket for each man. A hole in the corner was the toilet, two barrels of water was our supply for drinking, washing and flushing the toilet.
After spending nights sleeping rough on cement roads I thought wood wouldn't feel as hard, but dead tired as we were we had an awful night. The joins in the tables were full of bugs that bit us all over.
Daylight came and we had a chat to decide how we should use our water supply. It was agreed that drinking water was a priority, so decided one barrel was to be kept solely for that purpose, the other to be used for washing, the toilet to be flushed with dirty water only We washed with friends, sharing a bowl of water between four.
Breakfast came, a shallow aluminium bowl measuring approximately six inches across with an inch of rice in the bottom, pressed down by being stacked on one another. They were brought by Javanese convicts who seemed to be in charge of the cooking and distribution. We were also given small pudding shaped basins, the contents of which looked like cooked privet hedge clippings. Most of us sampled it but found we were not yet hungry enough to eat much of it, thinking the next meal must be better. The morning was spent talking amongst ourselves and wondering what was going to happen to us next, we felt we couldn't live under the present conditions for long. We busied ourselves trying to rid the tables of bugs. It was impossible for all of us to stand and move about at the same time, our space was limited and understandably no one wanted to be near the toilet.
Lunch came. It was a repeat of our breakfast menu but, as I was beginning to feel very hungry and this seemed likely to be our diet, my thoughts were that I had better get used to it, so down it went. We passed the afternoon just chatting until dinner was served that night, our usual rice and hedgerow greens plus the luxury of small tins or corned beef, which was shared on tin between seven men which we mixed in with our rice, it seemed quite a feast.
The next morning after breakfast we were driven out of our cells and gathered together in the yard, the guards acting as was to become their standard behaviour, jabbing with their bayonets and rifle butts to move things along.
An address from the Japanese Commandant was read out by his interpreter informing us that anyone attempting or being caught escaping would be shot and that we were to be put to whatever work they desired. We were then each handed a paper stating that we agree to that work and told to sign on the bottom. It did not specify what type of work we would be put to. Our senior officer, a Group Captain then told us not to sign as it was against Geneva Convention for P.O.W.'s to be put to work on military installations, which he thought was probably the work we were intended for. We could do any other task that did not help the enemy forces. We then returned to the cells.
The following day the guards arrived, hurled the door open, charged in and herded us out into the yard. Our Group Captain then told us he had been informed that twelve airmen and twelve soldiers had been taken from their cells and were facing execution within hours if we didn't sign the papers given to us. If we still didn't comply when the executions had been carried out, another twenty four men would be shot and so on until the papers had been signed. He then said he could not gamble with the men's lives and would take responsibility for our signing under duress. We duly signed and handed the papers to the guards.
We were informed we would be put to work the following day and each handed a piece of cloth which had a number printed thereon, mine being 132, and told to sew it to the back of our shirts. On our brief outings into the yard we could see that the prison was divided into two parts, all RAF personnel were in cells and the army prisoners were kept in barracks. The cells were situated round the large yard and backing onto a twenty feet high concrete wall with gun posts at every corner. The cells were of varying sizes and together held about four hundred airmen. Our food, on arrival, was pushed one bowl at a time under the barred door. Overlooking the yard was a large building which housed the Japanese. Situated in the centre of the building were the double doors where we passed through when going to work and returning. We later discovered the prison was called Bouie Glodok which was a criminal gaol for murderers and desperate criminals.
Early next morning the cell door opened and a Japanese officer with guards in attendance entered, we lined up for roll call and had to number off. This we did but were told that in future we would have to reply with Japanese numerals. This roll call was to be a regular order first thing in the morning and last thing at night, which was an obvious check to see that no man went missing.
The learning of Japanese numerals was a rather painful process, the officer would call ICHI, NEI, SAN (one, two, three) etc as he went along the line and each prisoner repeated whatever number he happened to be at. After about a week, we were expected to call our number in Japanese without any prompting, which caused an awful panic some mornings when some of the men only feeling confident with one number such as six or twelve, would try to get six or twelfth in line, any mistakes were rewarded with a lump round the face. Needless to say we learned very quickly. After roll call came our usual breakfast and then half an hour later we had to be ready to march to work. Whenever we were required outside the cell, the door would open and guards would rush in and drive us all out like cattle with rifle butts and bayonets.
Saturday, 15 January 2011
5: Capture and Back to Batavia
Unbeknown to us the Jap's had offered a twenty-five guilders reward to the Indonesians for the whereabouts of every allied serviceman report to them. After about three weeks, suddenly an English speaking voice through a loud hailer warned us to stay where we were until collected by Japanese soldiers. We were warned not to move outside an area marked with white flags and if this order was not complied with, we would be shot. During this time we had seen no sign of Japanese soldiers or anyone else for that matter. We carried on as normal as was possible for another three days.
The following morning as we were clearing up after breakfast, into the clearing walked a Japanese officer accompanied by ten soldiers. The officer, who spoke good English, ordered us to stop what we were doing and listen to what he had to say. He wanted to know where we had come from, how we had arrived here, also, where were our vehicles. He was informed we were from Batavia and had arrived in three trucks which we had destroyed. Upon hearing this he just surveyed us and then commented “So you must walk”. He then ordered us to prepare to move out, informing us that we would not be given any food or water from the Japanese until we reached our destination.
It was then I realised that although we had been warned three days previously that we would be picked up, we had done nothing in preparation for the move. We were given just ten minutes in which to be ready. Most of our stock of food was in large tins, the corned beef for instance was in 7lb tins. The tins of biscuits we found were too large to put in our kitbags, these were hastily opened and shared out.
It was agreed that one of us would carry a tin of corned beef to share amongst a group of us, taking turns to carry it on the way. I packed my haversack with biscuits, the kitbag which I had obtained in Batavia, I packed with 2lb tins of peaches, the corned beef and more biscuits, managing to fill my water bottle just in time as we were moved on. The Japanese soldiers making it clear with digs from rifle muzzles that it was time to go.
All too soon it became obvious that most of us had packed far more than we could carry. My only experience of carrying a kitbag was over short distances packed with soft clothing, not hard edged tins that moved with every step, clearly, this was going to be a terrible journey. Fortunately for us, the Japanese soldiers soon began to wilt. They wore a full kit and uniform, and each one carried a rifle and ammunition. They were soon soaked with sweat in the hot humid tropical heat and suffered as much as we were.
We came to a halt for a short rest and were told that anyone unable to keep up the pace would be shot. I think the impression the Japanese officer was trying to convey, was that the stop was for our benefit, rather than for his troops. My immediate thoughts upon stopping was to endeavour to lighten my load somehow. I mentally went through was I was carrying and decided that the tinned fruit, which were in two pound tins, must go first. I opened a tin of peaches, ate what I could and drunk the juice. I looked around and found that my fellow airmen were all like minded, busily sorting their loads and eating what they could manage. The break came to an end all too soon.
We had left the bush and scrub behind and were marching on a dirt road, the heat was intense. I had kept a tin of peaches handy so I as I walked I stabbed it with the spike of my jack knife, drunk the juice and threw the tin and fruit away.
At the next break I did a hasty repack, I decided to discard my blanket which I had taken to sleep on, also, to keep out the cold at night, it was proving to be too bulky and cumbersome. I reasoned that my blue jacket would keep me warm if needed, so wrapped it around the tinned meat.
The tinned peaches needed to be got rid of, so I decided that on the first day I would just consume peaches and biscuits, I would then be relieved of their bulk and weight. This would leave just the meat and biscuits together with my small amount of kit, making it a more comfortable load to carry. I calculated I could spread the food I had left over five days.
The road we were now travelling on was rough walnut size gravel and in more open country, the sun blazed down from a cloudless sky as we trudged along.
The breaks came about every hour. My arms ached from holding my kitbag on my shoulder but was able to keep up the pace quite easily. I was fed up with the taste of peaches and had an unquenchable thirst. The syrupy juice tasted thicker with each tin and I longed to drain my water bottle but knew that the water I carried was more important to me taken in small sips. The end of the first day came at last and we were to sleep where we had stopped.
An army truck arrived with food for the Japanese guards, also, a small water tank where we were allowed to fill our bottles. As I laid down on the ground that night my thoughts were of our day's journey and it occurred to me how strange, we had not passed a single person all day. On the second day of our long trek we were joined by more prisoners and were now travelling on a better road surface and provided with a small water truck at intervals. The soldier escort was now being worked in stages with a truck supplied to relieve them every hour, one hour marching and one hour rest, so they were refreshed which didn't help us, the night stops were a relief. The third day some of the chaps were beginning to flag and some suffered terribly blistered feed. The pace had slowed considerable but our captors persevered with stragglers and did not shoot anyone as promised.
During rest time an Air Vice Marshall who was marching with us, spent some of his rest time moving amongst us, bringing water to some of the men and telling them not to give up. He set us all a very good example. We were told we would rest the following day.
Marching on the next day, we at last arrived at a railway station yard where we boarded a train and were put into carriages where we could sit, bliss. Water was given to us, also a rice meal. Ups and downs were to come throughout my life as a prisoner, but this was a definite up.
Of our whereabouts, we had no idea. We set off and soon passed through a railway yard, in the sidings there were lines of trucks loaded with crate after crate, which had been opened to reveal Tomahawk fighter planes with American markings that had been sent to Java and never used.
Day turned to night as we continued our journey. There was no glass in the windows of the carriages, just wooden shutters to keep out the ash and dust from the burning wood the train was being fueled with. We kept the shutters open and watched the continuous cascade of sparks flying from the engine, we were also curious as to where we were going. At last in the darkness we pulled into a station, where we were ordered out and found we were back in Batavia once again, my fourth visit here.
The following morning as we were clearing up after breakfast, into the clearing walked a Japanese officer accompanied by ten soldiers. The officer, who spoke good English, ordered us to stop what we were doing and listen to what he had to say. He wanted to know where we had come from, how we had arrived here, also, where were our vehicles. He was informed we were from Batavia and had arrived in three trucks which we had destroyed. Upon hearing this he just surveyed us and then commented “So you must walk”. He then ordered us to prepare to move out, informing us that we would not be given any food or water from the Japanese until we reached our destination.
It was then I realised that although we had been warned three days previously that we would be picked up, we had done nothing in preparation for the move. We were given just ten minutes in which to be ready. Most of our stock of food was in large tins, the corned beef for instance was in 7lb tins. The tins of biscuits we found were too large to put in our kitbags, these were hastily opened and shared out.
It was agreed that one of us would carry a tin of corned beef to share amongst a group of us, taking turns to carry it on the way. I packed my haversack with biscuits, the kitbag which I had obtained in Batavia, I packed with 2lb tins of peaches, the corned beef and more biscuits, managing to fill my water bottle just in time as we were moved on. The Japanese soldiers making it clear with digs from rifle muzzles that it was time to go.
All too soon it became obvious that most of us had packed far more than we could carry. My only experience of carrying a kitbag was over short distances packed with soft clothing, not hard edged tins that moved with every step, clearly, this was going to be a terrible journey. Fortunately for us, the Japanese soldiers soon began to wilt. They wore a full kit and uniform, and each one carried a rifle and ammunition. They were soon soaked with sweat in the hot humid tropical heat and suffered as much as we were.
We came to a halt for a short rest and were told that anyone unable to keep up the pace would be shot. I think the impression the Japanese officer was trying to convey, was that the stop was for our benefit, rather than for his troops. My immediate thoughts upon stopping was to endeavour to lighten my load somehow. I mentally went through was I was carrying and decided that the tinned fruit, which were in two pound tins, must go first. I opened a tin of peaches, ate what I could and drunk the juice. I looked around and found that my fellow airmen were all like minded, busily sorting their loads and eating what they could manage. The break came to an end all too soon.
We had left the bush and scrub behind and were marching on a dirt road, the heat was intense. I had kept a tin of peaches handy so I as I walked I stabbed it with the spike of my jack knife, drunk the juice and threw the tin and fruit away.
At the next break I did a hasty repack, I decided to discard my blanket which I had taken to sleep on, also, to keep out the cold at night, it was proving to be too bulky and cumbersome. I reasoned that my blue jacket would keep me warm if needed, so wrapped it around the tinned meat.
The tinned peaches needed to be got rid of, so I decided that on the first day I would just consume peaches and biscuits, I would then be relieved of their bulk and weight. This would leave just the meat and biscuits together with my small amount of kit, making it a more comfortable load to carry. I calculated I could spread the food I had left over five days.
The road we were now travelling on was rough walnut size gravel and in more open country, the sun blazed down from a cloudless sky as we trudged along.
The breaks came about every hour. My arms ached from holding my kitbag on my shoulder but was able to keep up the pace quite easily. I was fed up with the taste of peaches and had an unquenchable thirst. The syrupy juice tasted thicker with each tin and I longed to drain my water bottle but knew that the water I carried was more important to me taken in small sips. The end of the first day came at last and we were to sleep where we had stopped.
An army truck arrived with food for the Japanese guards, also, a small water tank where we were allowed to fill our bottles. As I laid down on the ground that night my thoughts were of our day's journey and it occurred to me how strange, we had not passed a single person all day. On the second day of our long trek we were joined by more prisoners and were now travelling on a better road surface and provided with a small water truck at intervals. The soldier escort was now being worked in stages with a truck supplied to relieve them every hour, one hour marching and one hour rest, so they were refreshed which didn't help us, the night stops were a relief. The third day some of the chaps were beginning to flag and some suffered terribly blistered feed. The pace had slowed considerable but our captors persevered with stragglers and did not shoot anyone as promised.
During rest time an Air Vice Marshall who was marching with us, spent some of his rest time moving amongst us, bringing water to some of the men and telling them not to give up. He set us all a very good example. We were told we would rest the following day.
Marching on the next day, we at last arrived at a railway station yard where we boarded a train and were put into carriages where we could sit, bliss. Water was given to us, also a rice meal. Ups and downs were to come throughout my life as a prisoner, but this was a definite up.
Of our whereabouts, we had no idea. We set off and soon passed through a railway yard, in the sidings there were lines of trucks loaded with crate after crate, which had been opened to reveal Tomahawk fighter planes with American markings that had been sent to Java and never used.
Day turned to night as we continued our journey. There was no glass in the windows of the carriages, just wooden shutters to keep out the ash and dust from the burning wood the train was being fueled with. We kept the shutters open and watched the continuous cascade of sparks flying from the engine, we were also curious as to where we were going. At last in the darkness we pulled into a station, where we were ordered out and found we were back in Batavia once again, my fourth visit here.
Friday, 7 January 2011
4: Flee to Southern Java - Part 2.
We moved off next morning feeling a little subdued after this episode, thinking of our plans to live in the wilds and wondering what other hidden dangers lay in wait. The made up road petered out and we were then on dirt track. Before long it started to rain in torrents, a typical tropical downpour, which didn't improve matters. We pushed on until early evening when the two wheel drive truck got stuck in the mud up to its axles. We had enough for the day, so it was corned beef and biscuits whilst we sheltered from the downpour.
It was a pitch black night, we were wet and uncomfortable and I had a pretty restless night. We slept in the two four wheel drive trucks under cover of the canopies, outside was squelching mud.
We were all up and about early, the morning hot and sunny as usual. The bogged down truck was fully laden with provisions which had to be unloaded and transferred to the remaining two trucks before any attempt could be made to pull it clear. We squelched our way back and forth for most of the morning until the task was finished, we then had a quick bit to eat, pulled the bogged down truck free and moved further into the scrubland.
Soon after we came to a rocky area, on the one side there was a thirty feet drop, the sides overgrown with small trees and the opposite side just rock. The gap between was deep in mud due to the previous downpour, needless to say the two wheel drive truck became bogged down once again. It had to go. It was completely stripped, pulled out of the mud and driven to the edge of the drop. Oil and water was then drained and the engine revved up. It wouldn't seize up, probably worn out with too much clearance in the bores, so it was finally pushed over the edge.
Continuing our journey we found that the going was very slow, as the vehicles were in low gear. We had only travelled a short distance when we saw running water and decided this was to be our camp. That night we had a stew up, which after our previous meals, tasted pretty good - I slept well that night.
The trucks were unloaded the following day, the food being stacked in amongst bushes and undergrowth. We had some canvas and our groundsheets to make tents when needed, and so we set up our camp. We drove the remaining trucks back to where the first one had met its fate and pushed them over the edge of the ravine and out of sight.
All meals were to be cooked together now, as previously we'd been eating in small groups and helping ourselves and had no idea how long our food would have to last. We took it in turns to do the cooking and two men were to be the look out for the enemy aircraft at all times.
It was a pitch black night, we were wet and uncomfortable and I had a pretty restless night. We slept in the two four wheel drive trucks under cover of the canopies, outside was squelching mud.
We were all up and about early, the morning hot and sunny as usual. The bogged down truck was fully laden with provisions which had to be unloaded and transferred to the remaining two trucks before any attempt could be made to pull it clear. We squelched our way back and forth for most of the morning until the task was finished, we then had a quick bit to eat, pulled the bogged down truck free and moved further into the scrubland.
Soon after we came to a rocky area, on the one side there was a thirty feet drop, the sides overgrown with small trees and the opposite side just rock. The gap between was deep in mud due to the previous downpour, needless to say the two wheel drive truck became bogged down once again. It had to go. It was completely stripped, pulled out of the mud and driven to the edge of the drop. Oil and water was then drained and the engine revved up. It wouldn't seize up, probably worn out with too much clearance in the bores, so it was finally pushed over the edge.
Continuing our journey we found that the going was very slow, as the vehicles were in low gear. We had only travelled a short distance when we saw running water and decided this was to be our camp. That night we had a stew up, which after our previous meals, tasted pretty good - I slept well that night.
The trucks were unloaded the following day, the food being stacked in amongst bushes and undergrowth. We had some canvas and our groundsheets to make tents when needed, and so we set up our camp. We drove the remaining trucks back to where the first one had met its fate and pushed them over the edge of the ravine and out of sight.
All meals were to be cooked together now, as previously we'd been eating in small groups and helping ourselves and had no idea how long our food would have to last. We took it in turns to do the cooking and two men were to be the look out for the enemy aircraft at all times.
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