Work consisted mainly of painting deck components for the new ships, sometimes on the ship at other times, outside the workshop in the shipyard. Another task would be the scraping of decks, sides and bottoms of barges and small submarine chasers.
A few days after arriving at the docks, our party was taken to a ship in the harbour to unload its cargo of salt and transfer it to barges. The first day we lined up in the hold where two dock workers proceeded to lift these large sacks of salt onto the shoulders of each man, at the same time giving him a token to present to the man on the barge, where two more dock workers were taking the sacks and stacking them. My turn came and as I took the full weight, I decided I couldn't possibly carry those all day. Without thinking, I did the most foolish thing and threw it off saying, “I can't carry that, it’s too heavy”. I could not account for my action because knew there was no escaping from anything and fully aware of what the consequences might be. All the Japanese workers started shouting abuse and this was interspersed with kicks from the boots of the loaders, the salt was slung back on my shoulders and then helped on my way. I spent the rest of the day carrying these sacks which weighed more than a hundred weight, sixty kilos I believe. The next two days we were put to work in the hold which was full of loose salt, shovelling it into chutes.
One lunch break we had a visit from a Japanese Officer who spoke some English, he laughed and said “You can have all the salt you can eat whilst working on the ship”. Some men tied the bottoms of their pants at the ankle and put salt in the legs, but I didn't think this worth the risk. Those two days were physically tiring but it was a lot warmer and dryer working in the hold.
At the end of each day, when we were marched to the assembly area, we were supposed to salute our foreman as an act of courtesy. I’m afraid I didn't think much of that idea, so used to get in the back row and bend out of sight, but after a few days he caught on to what I was doing, and came after me. He would kick and punch me until in the end I had to give in. It was the only way I could show any defiance or rebellion and get away with it lightly, always making sure the guards didn't catch me out.
There was one instance when I was put to work on a barge scraping the deck and wire brushing the rust away. Over the side of the barge, a carpenter was finishing off the wooden fender, so I continually brushed the dust and rust over him, in return he kept threatening me with his adze. As he started to climb on to the deck, I went to the foreman and told him this man is getting dust over him from me working above and was going to hit me. I reminded the foreman that he was the only one allowed to hit me, which he agreed and started to argue with the carpenter, ordering him to get back over the side. I went back to my work feeling happy that I had done something to break the awful monotony of my life. It helped temporarily to take my mind off the awful predicament my mates and I were in.
Another incident I recall. One evening as we finished eating our dinner, the Commandant came in, we stood and bowed. He walked around grinning, as always, asking if we had enjoyed our soup, of course we said yes. He then said there was more meat in it than usual, as a cat had fallen into it and drowned the previous night after it had been prepared. This had been cooked in our soup. I think he was a disappointed man, it didn't have the desired effect that he had expected. Nothing could be worse that the condition we were already in. Sometimes the soup would have potato but was like water with soy flavouring, sometimes a bit of radish and if lucky enough to get meat, we might get one or maybe two inch cubes.
Dysentery and the death that accompanied this illness had started again, the twenty sick allowance was rigidly adhered to, consequently these gaunt and very sick men were still sent to work although too ill to actually do any, it just hastened their end. These poor souls crawled around the docks doubled up, just skin and bone, their clothes hanging loosely on them. Back at camp, obviously some of them were unable to reach the toilets in time, so the floor of our hut became filthy at times, but no one complained. The men would always clean up after if able, but if not their friends would do it for them. They wore no pants or trousers around our quarter for fear of soiling them as washing and drying facilities were sadly lacking. We certainly suffered less visits from the guards.
The bitter war between the foreman Watanabe and myself at work continued, but as time went by, he became less vicious and aggressive, I’d like to think that perhaps he had begun to understand why I behaved in the manner I did and what I was trying to convey to him, that I wasn’t supposed to be helpful to his cause and worked as a forced labour prisoner.
The memoirs of a Japanese prisoner of The Second World War 1942-1945. By Frank Planton.
Tuesday, 26 April 2011
13: Hard Labour, Hakodate Shipyard - Part 2.
Friday, 15 April 2011
13: Hard Labour, Hakodate Shipyard - Part 1.
The next morning there was no mistaking the time to get up. The guards rushed into the building shouting and prodding us in bed with their bayonets, before we could struggle out. I went to wash and the cold water numbed my hands. The night had been bitter, even with ten blankets. The cold had seeped through the wooden floor and matting and I had kept waking up, unable to sleep, the cold so penetrating.
Roll call was at seven, then breakfast of rice. We were given another pack for our meal at work, then assembled outside ready to be marched to work. The Commandant of the camp appeared and through the interpreter, told us we would work where sent and in return would be paid, fed well and cared for, until they had won the war. He had a smile on his face whilst all this was translated, happy with the control he had over our lives, no doubt. There were about two hundred and twenty of us in this particular camp.
We marched off in our threadbare second hand uniforms and canvas boots, through the town to the shipyard where we were sorted into groups. Each group was to work with a foreman, who would be their boss from then on. There were about twenty of us in my group. I was handed a pot of red oxide paint and taken to where a pile of lifeboat davits lay in the snow. I pointed out to the foreman the ice and snow on the metal and how wet it still was when the snow and ice was brushed off, his reply was with gestures ‘to get on with it’. It was a day I thought would never end, it seemed to go on forever with bitter cold and freezing winds and snow flurries, hands so cold I could hardly hold my brush, it was complete misery.
At the end of the day, we were collected and taken to a road just inside the dock, were formed up by the guards who had arrived had marched back to camp where we had to number off. Back at the camp we were lined up, searched and counted once again before being allowed inside. We were allowed a small amount of coal and fires could be lit at five o’clock in the evening, which was about the time we returned to camp, but had to be cleaned out and tidy by seven o’clock sharp, when there was a final roll call. This caused some panic each evening as we hung on to the warmth as long as was possible, so sometimes in desperation we would run out and grab handfuls of snow to cool the embers. Our main thought as we returned that first evening, and every other evening for that matter, was to get the fires going. Everyone felt frozen and no one seemed to have been given a decent job of work to do, we were a very unhappy bunch.
Food was the usual rice and soup. The guards came in about five times in our two hours free time, which was to be a regular habit of theirs. Each time as always we had to stand and bow which didn't prove restful, we just hoped they would get fed up with it as time went by. It was a relief after last roll call to be able to lie down on the floor, wrapped in our blankets trying to forget the terrible cold and hardship, thinking of a life miles away from it all, the meals we would have and things we had enjoyed. That second night, I tried lying on top of two of my blankets to stop the cold through the floorboards, but it didn't seem to make any difference.
After a few days some of the men started to suffer from diarrhoea. It was possible that when we left the ship, some declared themselves fit so that they could stay with their mates, when they weren't really feeling one hundred percent. Our captors were not too pleased when the men became too sick to go to work. There was a Japanese military orderly and an Army doctor who called on certain days, and one prisoner was permitted to stay at camp to look after the sick men.
Later as more men became ill, we were informed that no more than twenty sick men would be allowed to stay off work at any one time. All others were to go to work without exception and dragged there by fellow prisoners if necessary. We were left in no doubt that twenty was the final number.
The surplus sick were told they would get light duties at work and rest times if needed, but under no circumstances were they to stay in camp. Some of the Jap shipyard workers realised these men were very sick and dying, so allowed them to hide or sit near the toilets. Those that stayed in camp were supposed to receive half their ration of food and threatened with none if more than twenty stayed behind, but we shared the food out equally as always. Those men that did stay in camp had no rest from the guards and were not allowed to lie in their beds, some were given jobs to do.
On our return from work one evening, we were given printed sheets of Japanese patriotic songs and told to learn them as we were to sing them when returning from work next day. What the words meant we did no know but had to take the sheets to work the next day and learn in our dinner break. The Commandant said he wanted to hear us singing as we arrived back at camp.
That evening as we marched back, an Officer told us to start singing with the guards who were also singing to give us the tune. It was a terrible walk back, the streets were snow covered, our trousers soaking we at always, and now this added burden of singing something we knew nothing of, the last thing we felt like doing was singing. The guards were punching and hitting us with their rifles at random in their efforts for more volume, but it didn't even end there.
Back at camp we stood with snow up to our knees for over half an hour singing and being beaten by the guards whilst the Commandant looked on grinning, until he decided he had heard enough. We had worked all day in the freezing weather at the docks, were soaked to the skin, our bodies frozen through and our empty stomachs gnawing with hunger. This went on day after day, our lives in absolute misery. We were losing a half hour of our meagre free time of two hours, so had just an hour and a half in which to light the fires, try to thaw ourselves out and dry our clothes. This was extremely difficult with so many men, it was impossible to get near the fire at times.We then had our meal, put the fires out and tidied up ready for roll call at seven o’clock, then lights out.
Roll call was at seven, then breakfast of rice. We were given another pack for our meal at work, then assembled outside ready to be marched to work. The Commandant of the camp appeared and through the interpreter, told us we would work where sent and in return would be paid, fed well and cared for, until they had won the war. He had a smile on his face whilst all this was translated, happy with the control he had over our lives, no doubt. There were about two hundred and twenty of us in this particular camp.
We marched off in our threadbare second hand uniforms and canvas boots, through the town to the shipyard where we were sorted into groups. Each group was to work with a foreman, who would be their boss from then on. There were about twenty of us in my group. I was handed a pot of red oxide paint and taken to where a pile of lifeboat davits lay in the snow. I pointed out to the foreman the ice and snow on the metal and how wet it still was when the snow and ice was brushed off, his reply was with gestures ‘to get on with it’. It was a day I thought would never end, it seemed to go on forever with bitter cold and freezing winds and snow flurries, hands so cold I could hardly hold my brush, it was complete misery.
At the end of the day, we were collected and taken to a road just inside the dock, were formed up by the guards who had arrived had marched back to camp where we had to number off. Back at the camp we were lined up, searched and counted once again before being allowed inside. We were allowed a small amount of coal and fires could be lit at five o’clock in the evening, which was about the time we returned to camp, but had to be cleaned out and tidy by seven o’clock sharp, when there was a final roll call. This caused some panic each evening as we hung on to the warmth as long as was possible, so sometimes in desperation we would run out and grab handfuls of snow to cool the embers. Our main thought as we returned that first evening, and every other evening for that matter, was to get the fires going. Everyone felt frozen and no one seemed to have been given a decent job of work to do, we were a very unhappy bunch.
Food was the usual rice and soup. The guards came in about five times in our two hours free time, which was to be a regular habit of theirs. Each time as always we had to stand and bow which didn't prove restful, we just hoped they would get fed up with it as time went by. It was a relief after last roll call to be able to lie down on the floor, wrapped in our blankets trying to forget the terrible cold and hardship, thinking of a life miles away from it all, the meals we would have and things we had enjoyed. That second night, I tried lying on top of two of my blankets to stop the cold through the floorboards, but it didn't seem to make any difference.
After a few days some of the men started to suffer from diarrhoea. It was possible that when we left the ship, some declared themselves fit so that they could stay with their mates, when they weren't really feeling one hundred percent. Our captors were not too pleased when the men became too sick to go to work. There was a Japanese military orderly and an Army doctor who called on certain days, and one prisoner was permitted to stay at camp to look after the sick men.
Later as more men became ill, we were informed that no more than twenty sick men would be allowed to stay off work at any one time. All others were to go to work without exception and dragged there by fellow prisoners if necessary. We were left in no doubt that twenty was the final number.
The surplus sick were told they would get light duties at work and rest times if needed, but under no circumstances were they to stay in camp. Some of the Jap shipyard workers realised these men were very sick and dying, so allowed them to hide or sit near the toilets. Those that stayed in camp were supposed to receive half their ration of food and threatened with none if more than twenty stayed behind, but we shared the food out equally as always. Those men that did stay in camp had no rest from the guards and were not allowed to lie in their beds, some were given jobs to do.
On our return from work one evening, we were given printed sheets of Japanese patriotic songs and told to learn them as we were to sing them when returning from work next day. What the words meant we did no know but had to take the sheets to work the next day and learn in our dinner break. The Commandant said he wanted to hear us singing as we arrived back at camp.
That evening as we marched back, an Officer told us to start singing with the guards who were also singing to give us the tune. It was a terrible walk back, the streets were snow covered, our trousers soaking we at always, and now this added burden of singing something we knew nothing of, the last thing we felt like doing was singing. The guards were punching and hitting us with their rifles at random in their efforts for more volume, but it didn't even end there.
Back at camp we stood with snow up to our knees for over half an hour singing and being beaten by the guards whilst the Commandant looked on grinning, until he decided he had heard enough. We had worked all day in the freezing weather at the docks, were soaked to the skin, our bodies frozen through and our empty stomachs gnawing with hunger. This went on day after day, our lives in absolute misery. We were losing a half hour of our meagre free time of two hours, so had just an hour and a half in which to light the fires, try to thaw ourselves out and dry our clothes. This was extremely difficult with so many men, it was impossible to get near the fire at times.We then had our meal, put the fires out and tidied up ready for roll call at seven o’clock, then lights out.
Friday, 8 April 2011
12: Across Japan, Shimonoseki, Honshu Island to Hakodate, Hokkaido Island
At last one evening we arrived at Japan. What we could see looked like a wooden settlement and reminded me of films I had seen in the past, of Alaskan fishing ports. We were kept on board for another couple of days, most probably whilst their own sick and wounded were taken ashore. Our turn came at last and we were lined up on the quay, each man was asked if he was ill, if the answer was affirmative, he would be separated and put with another group. Some of the very ill had been carried ashore by friends and lay on the quayside, others still lay in the hold. An estimated one hundred and eighty six men had died on the voyage, official deaths according to the War Graves Commission, 88 British the rest other nationalities.
The new guards were tall, all over six fee high, smart and well dressed with fur lined boots on the greatcoats they wore. Their behaviour differed from our previous guards and not a blow was struck, they just gestured when they wanted us to move. From the quay, we walked into a series of tunnels that went on and on. It was difficult at the time to understand why this wooden structure was not made of a more permanent material, as it was so vast.
Eventually we emerged and came to a railway station with the name Shimonoseki where there was a waiting train. We boarded and were given a meal in a wooden box, before reaching our seats. The meal consisted of cold rice, fish and pickle. We noticed later that this was a standard Japanese meal sold at the stations as we journeyed along. This we were given three times each day whilst travelling on this train. Japanese green leaf tea was given after each meal. Looking around as we moved off, the carriages seemed similar to ours and had padded seats and a door at each end where the guards stood.
We stopped at each large station along the way for about an hour, and each one was packed solid with civilians who had obviously just come to stare. They must have been informed of our arrival in advance, as there was a repeat performance at each stop. I thought we must be some of the first prisoners to arrive in Japan. Early in the morning on the second day of our journey, one of the guards came along the gangway and told us to look out of the side window, shortly after Mount Fuji came into sight. It was covered in snow and in the low sun made it look pink, the guard said it was the best time of the day to view it. It was indeed a marvellous sight.
Our next stop was Tokyo and again the platforms were a solid mass of people, a sea of heads as far as the eye could see. After our customary wait, we continued our journey. Our final stop was Amori which we reached early on the third day, this was the northern end of the main island Honshu. We left the train leaving our gentleman guards behind and were taken to a ferry terminal, where we boarded the ferry for the last stage of our journey. It was a rough sea crossing and took about three hours to reach Hakodate on the island of Hokkaido, where we disembarked.
As we left the terminal, the bitter wind hit us, the streets were frozen and ice and snow covered the wooden houses. This was something we were totally unprepared for, some of the men still wore shorts. I did have my blue jacket and long tropical trousers, but was freezing and longing to reach our destination to be out of the biting wind and snow flurries. After marching through the town, we started an uphill climb before coming to large wooden gates. These were opened and we passed through. The single storey wooden buildings looked very much like a hospital and as we were on a headland, it could possibly have been a sanatorium. After a wait, we were allowed inside.
There were tables set up down the centre of the long room we entered and as we passed along, each man was given ten blankets and a full kit of repaired Japanese soldiers heavy twill uniform, from which the marking of rank etc had been removed. We were given a number and strangely enough, by coincidence mine was Hyaku San-Juu Ni (132), the same number given to me at Bouie Glodok prison in Java. We were also issued with two pairs of second hand cotton material long pants that had been patched and seen better days, and a pair of second hand cotton boots. This issue of clothing was our uniform which has to be worn at all times.
It seemed warm as we entered the building and I was wondering how much colder it must get to be issued with ten blankets. There were cubicles down the side of the room, measuring roughly fourteen feet by nine feet, where each man was allowed about a three foot space for sleeping, each cubicle taking half a dozen men. We lay side by side taking up about seven feet in length for our bed and belongings, leaving a two foot width for walking to and from our beds. These cubicles had light sliding doors which consisted of paper fixed to a light frame, of which one door was missing. If anyone was to stumble on these whilst getting up or going to bed, we would simply have fallen through. We were warned that any damage done to these would be punished.
The toilets were holes in the floor and were situated at one end of the long room alongside the washroom, which contained wooden sinks and cold water only. This long hall type room also contained two cast iron barrel shaped fires and a few benches, the whole building placed on concrete piers. We were told later there was a bathhouse just outside, this was lit once a week. The bath was an oblong wooden construction with metal floor, duckboards placed in the bottom and a fire lit underneath, it was here we washed our clothing. The bathroom was the warmest place to be. The cubicles we slept in had the standard Japanese matting floor covering, the softest we had slept on so far, we always removed our boots before entering I was soon to be disillusioned regarding my idea of a P.O.W. camp.
The new guards were tall, all over six fee high, smart and well dressed with fur lined boots on the greatcoats they wore. Their behaviour differed from our previous guards and not a blow was struck, they just gestured when they wanted us to move. From the quay, we walked into a series of tunnels that went on and on. It was difficult at the time to understand why this wooden structure was not made of a more permanent material, as it was so vast.
Eventually we emerged and came to a railway station with the name Shimonoseki where there was a waiting train. We boarded and were given a meal in a wooden box, before reaching our seats. The meal consisted of cold rice, fish and pickle. We noticed later that this was a standard Japanese meal sold at the stations as we journeyed along. This we were given three times each day whilst travelling on this train. Japanese green leaf tea was given after each meal. Looking around as we moved off, the carriages seemed similar to ours and had padded seats and a door at each end where the guards stood.
We stopped at each large station along the way for about an hour, and each one was packed solid with civilians who had obviously just come to stare. They must have been informed of our arrival in advance, as there was a repeat performance at each stop. I thought we must be some of the first prisoners to arrive in Japan. Early in the morning on the second day of our journey, one of the guards came along the gangway and told us to look out of the side window, shortly after Mount Fuji came into sight. It was covered in snow and in the low sun made it look pink, the guard said it was the best time of the day to view it. It was indeed a marvellous sight.
Our next stop was Tokyo and again the platforms were a solid mass of people, a sea of heads as far as the eye could see. After our customary wait, we continued our journey. Our final stop was Amori which we reached early on the third day, this was the northern end of the main island Honshu. We left the train leaving our gentleman guards behind and were taken to a ferry terminal, where we boarded the ferry for the last stage of our journey. It was a rough sea crossing and took about three hours to reach Hakodate on the island of Hokkaido, where we disembarked.
As we left the terminal, the bitter wind hit us, the streets were frozen and ice and snow covered the wooden houses. This was something we were totally unprepared for, some of the men still wore shorts. I did have my blue jacket and long tropical trousers, but was freezing and longing to reach our destination to be out of the biting wind and snow flurries. After marching through the town, we started an uphill climb before coming to large wooden gates. These were opened and we passed through. The single storey wooden buildings looked very much like a hospital and as we were on a headland, it could possibly have been a sanatorium. After a wait, we were allowed inside.
There were tables set up down the centre of the long room we entered and as we passed along, each man was given ten blankets and a full kit of repaired Japanese soldiers heavy twill uniform, from which the marking of rank etc had been removed. We were given a number and strangely enough, by coincidence mine was Hyaku San-Juu Ni (132), the same number given to me at Bouie Glodok prison in Java. We were also issued with two pairs of second hand cotton material long pants that had been patched and seen better days, and a pair of second hand cotton boots. This issue of clothing was our uniform which has to be worn at all times.
It seemed warm as we entered the building and I was wondering how much colder it must get to be issued with ten blankets. There were cubicles down the side of the room, measuring roughly fourteen feet by nine feet, where each man was allowed about a three foot space for sleeping, each cubicle taking half a dozen men. We lay side by side taking up about seven feet in length for our bed and belongings, leaving a two foot width for walking to and from our beds. These cubicles had light sliding doors which consisted of paper fixed to a light frame, of which one door was missing. If anyone was to stumble on these whilst getting up or going to bed, we would simply have fallen through. We were warned that any damage done to these would be punished.
The toilets were holes in the floor and were situated at one end of the long room alongside the washroom, which contained wooden sinks and cold water only. This long hall type room also contained two cast iron barrel shaped fires and a few benches, the whole building placed on concrete piers. We were told later there was a bathhouse just outside, this was lit once a week. The bath was an oblong wooden construction with metal floor, duckboards placed in the bottom and a fire lit underneath, it was here we washed our clothing. The bathroom was the warmest place to be. The cubicles we slept in had the standard Japanese matting floor covering, the softest we had slept on so far, we always removed our boots before entering I was soon to be disillusioned regarding my idea of a P.O.W. camp.
Friday, 1 April 2011
11: To Japan by Sea, a Terrible Voyage - Part 3.
The cases of dysentery were spreading and the suffering men were getting thinner. They looked dreadful and were in terrible pain and hardly able to climb the steps. The storm was still raging and heightened even further, making it impossible for the sick men to get to the toilets without plenty of help from friends. The air had turned cold and most of us only possessed tropical kit and the toilets were being made filthy by those desperate men. There were buckets on ropes near the toilets and those of us who were fit enough, tried to collect enough sea water to swill them out before using them, but it proved too difficult with the wind and the sea threatening to tear the doors off.
The ship was being tossed about like a cork and the huge waves were smashing down on us, one almost laying the ship on its side and before it could recover, another hit us. It was a new experience but one I wouldn’t like to repeat. Our belongings were scattered and sea water poured into the hold soaking some of the men who had moved into the vacant area as the bottom of the steps, we thought the ship might be going down at that moment. The few boards that had been left at the top of the steps allowed us access to the deck for drinking water and toilets, were now being put in place by seamen, then the cover was put on and we were sealed in.
It was decided that the sick men would have to use the ore in the hold as a toilet at the extreme area only, that night three of them died. There was small comfort for the men whose blankets had been soaked when the sea poured in. There was no four o’clock meal that day nor one the following morning. We were hungry but had no appetite with the smell of the closed hold. The hatch covers were removed that afternoon, so we had some fresh air at last and a meal was lowered, the dead men were removed for burial. More deaths occurred that night and were removed the next morning. The storm lasted another three days before abating.
It hadn’t occurred to me to wonder who the men were that removed the dead bodies, I assumed they were trained people who normally dealt with casualties on the airfields, until I was approached one day by a Corporal I knew. He had been asked by one of the Sergeants to recruit four men to take turn in picking up and carrying away the dead each morning, and asked if I would help the following day to which I agreed.
He came for me around seven o’clock the next morning. We walked around in the gloom amongst the men still lying down, “Are there any dead about?”. We heard replies like, “There’s one under that blanket”, and “One over there”. I thought the plague of London and the cry of “Bring out your dead”. The men had died in various positions, but weighed very little as we wrapped them in their blanket and carried them on deck to be buried. On occasions there would be bodies from the other hold full of prisoners, we would lay ours alongside.
Whilst up on deck queuing for the toilet one day, I was able to witness a burial as four bodies slid over the side into the sea. I myself felt as fit and well as could be expected, my rice bowl and soup dish I regularly washed under some leaking pipes on deck that dripped hot water, which the Jap's didn't seem to object to.
Word came into the hold that the storm we had sailed though was a typhoon with the South China Sea was noted for. The weather improved, not the tropical warmth we had been accustomed to, but reasonable. Shortly after, we put in to port at Formosa. Some of the sick prisoners were put ashore, the remainder of us kept below except for visits to the toilets. I assumed we had stopped for water and provisions. There were about a thousand prisoners on board originally, and about the same number of sick and wounded soldiers.
We set sail once again and now knew the next stop must be Japan. After a day at sea, more prisoners began to die. I did another shift in the stoke hold, the stack of coal was considerably less that when doing my previous stint, and due to the calmer seas, the stokers were less demanding so we managed to keep them happy. These stokers appeared from time to time stripped to the waist, their bodies gleaming with sweat and in the light of the boiler furnaces, looked like demons. We enjoyed another shower and rice balls at the end of the shift. When leaving the stoke hold and walking across the deck, I noticed a plate which had the builders name etc. inscribed upon it which I cannot remember, but I do remember the date was 1893 and that it was built in Glasgow. I began to wonder how much longer before we reached Japan. We were well into the month of November, the weather much colder with continuous grey skies, I didn’t linger too long now when having to go up on deck.
I saw a Corporal approaching me once again and knew I had another job the following morning. This was something I would rather not have done, but not knowing the men personally, did not find it upsetting in that sense. I never occurred to me that I might die.
The next morning we had picked up two bodies and were told where another was. When we lifted the blanket, I saw it was an airmen I knew who had waved to me as he walked up the gangway onto the ship at Singapore, as I waited on the quay for my turn to board. It gave me a terrible shock to see him and I was stunned at the sight of his awful wasted body. He was lying on his front in a comfortable sleeping position and I just hoped he had passed away peacefully in his sleep. He was in my thoughts for a long time after we had finished the job and I now realised it was people that I did know that were dying.
The rice and soup were still our main diet and we were absolutely sick of it. The same amount as before was lowered down to us twice daily, with less men to eat it, but hungry as we were some was thrown away. I was now glad of my blue jacket which I had decided to hang onto in the heat of Batavia, but only possessed tropical trousers. I now had an almost new pair of army boots that had belonged to one of the dead men, which he no doubt had obtained in Singapore. It was now nearing the end of November and we were all praying for the end of this terrible voyage. Men continued to die and a large number were very ill. My friend Bill and I managed to stay well and looked forward to being housed in a proper P.O.W. camp.
The ship was being tossed about like a cork and the huge waves were smashing down on us, one almost laying the ship on its side and before it could recover, another hit us. It was a new experience but one I wouldn’t like to repeat. Our belongings were scattered and sea water poured into the hold soaking some of the men who had moved into the vacant area as the bottom of the steps, we thought the ship might be going down at that moment. The few boards that had been left at the top of the steps allowed us access to the deck for drinking water and toilets, were now being put in place by seamen, then the cover was put on and we were sealed in.
It was decided that the sick men would have to use the ore in the hold as a toilet at the extreme area only, that night three of them died. There was small comfort for the men whose blankets had been soaked when the sea poured in. There was no four o’clock meal that day nor one the following morning. We were hungry but had no appetite with the smell of the closed hold. The hatch covers were removed that afternoon, so we had some fresh air at last and a meal was lowered, the dead men were removed for burial. More deaths occurred that night and were removed the next morning. The storm lasted another three days before abating.
It hadn’t occurred to me to wonder who the men were that removed the dead bodies, I assumed they were trained people who normally dealt with casualties on the airfields, until I was approached one day by a Corporal I knew. He had been asked by one of the Sergeants to recruit four men to take turn in picking up and carrying away the dead each morning, and asked if I would help the following day to which I agreed.
He came for me around seven o’clock the next morning. We walked around in the gloom amongst the men still lying down, “Are there any dead about?”. We heard replies like, “There’s one under that blanket”, and “One over there”. I thought the plague of London and the cry of “Bring out your dead”. The men had died in various positions, but weighed very little as we wrapped them in their blanket and carried them on deck to be buried. On occasions there would be bodies from the other hold full of prisoners, we would lay ours alongside.
Whilst up on deck queuing for the toilet one day, I was able to witness a burial as four bodies slid over the side into the sea. I myself felt as fit and well as could be expected, my rice bowl and soup dish I regularly washed under some leaking pipes on deck that dripped hot water, which the Jap's didn't seem to object to.
Word came into the hold that the storm we had sailed though was a typhoon with the South China Sea was noted for. The weather improved, not the tropical warmth we had been accustomed to, but reasonable. Shortly after, we put in to port at Formosa. Some of the sick prisoners were put ashore, the remainder of us kept below except for visits to the toilets. I assumed we had stopped for water and provisions. There were about a thousand prisoners on board originally, and about the same number of sick and wounded soldiers.
We set sail once again and now knew the next stop must be Japan. After a day at sea, more prisoners began to die. I did another shift in the stoke hold, the stack of coal was considerably less that when doing my previous stint, and due to the calmer seas, the stokers were less demanding so we managed to keep them happy. These stokers appeared from time to time stripped to the waist, their bodies gleaming with sweat and in the light of the boiler furnaces, looked like demons. We enjoyed another shower and rice balls at the end of the shift. When leaving the stoke hold and walking across the deck, I noticed a plate which had the builders name etc. inscribed upon it which I cannot remember, but I do remember the date was 1893 and that it was built in Glasgow. I began to wonder how much longer before we reached Japan. We were well into the month of November, the weather much colder with continuous grey skies, I didn’t linger too long now when having to go up on deck.
I saw a Corporal approaching me once again and knew I had another job the following morning. This was something I would rather not have done, but not knowing the men personally, did not find it upsetting in that sense. I never occurred to me that I might die.
The next morning we had picked up two bodies and were told where another was. When we lifted the blanket, I saw it was an airmen I knew who had waved to me as he walked up the gangway onto the ship at Singapore, as I waited on the quay for my turn to board. It gave me a terrible shock to see him and I was stunned at the sight of his awful wasted body. He was lying on his front in a comfortable sleeping position and I just hoped he had passed away peacefully in his sleep. He was in my thoughts for a long time after we had finished the job and I now realised it was people that I did know that were dying.
The rice and soup were still our main diet and we were absolutely sick of it. The same amount as before was lowered down to us twice daily, with less men to eat it, but hungry as we were some was thrown away. I was now glad of my blue jacket which I had decided to hang onto in the heat of Batavia, but only possessed tropical trousers. I now had an almost new pair of army boots that had belonged to one of the dead men, which he no doubt had obtained in Singapore. It was now nearing the end of November and we were all praying for the end of this terrible voyage. Men continued to die and a large number were very ill. My friend Bill and I managed to stay well and looked forward to being housed in a proper P.O.W. camp.
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