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.

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.

11: To Japan by Sea, a Terrible Voyage - Part 2.

Life was getting pretty unbearable in the hold, after five days some of the men were suffering from diarrhoea. As we lay trying to sleep at night, the rats would become active, I felt one run over my face one night, which wasn't very pleasant. The monotony of the same diet didn't help either. Bill and I had decided to keep our tinned food that we had purchased in Changi until we needed a break from the pink soup.

Early one morning the ship turned into land and we came to the Mekong Delta with its mangrove islands. All this was learnt by groups of men forming a growing queue for the toilets. The ship cruised slowly towards Saigon, the heat and humidity was intense, the hottest place I'd ever been. We anchored off shore and could hear small boats or barges alongside. I saw people walking about in clean clothes on the quayside, making me feel more filthy that I actually was. After darkness we felt the motion of the ship and the air freshen as we sailed out to sea again.

Next day the condition of several men who were ill with stomach trouble worsened, there were no medicines or medical help whatsoever. The rice contained weevils and it was at this time that my mate Bill and I decided to start on our stock of tinned food, sharing one tin of herrings between us for one meal and keeping the tomato sauce for another, we had seven tins together. The convoy now consisted of four ships and two destroyers. The skies became overcast, instead of the constant blue sky, there were grey clouds and the air felt much cooler on deck.

The first man in our hold died, this was reported to the Japanese by our officer spokesman. The man was buried at sea the next day, with a Japanese Officer present and to which twelve prisoners were allowed to attend. These formalities were not continued with a Japanese Officer present as more deaths occurred.

After three days out at sea the weather had deteriorated, the sea became rougher and the skies were on blanket of cloud. Our Sergeants in charge were told ten men were needed from the hold to work in the stoke hold so asked for volunteers, ten of us went forward. Three men were duly called to so the shift. I spoke to one of them later and asked him how he fared. He told me he and his mates had been totally unprepared for events that occurred. The work was extremely hard, but when relieved by the Japanese stokers, they were taken to the hot showers given rice balls then left alone with no guard. There was lots of hot water and it was possible to do washing as no one had checked on them or bothered how long they had stayed.

The next day the Sergeant called out three names, mine being one of them, to go to the stoke hold. We were led to the centre of the ship and down steps where we came to what looked like a coal mine, the complete width and up the sides of the ship was coal. There was a bulkhead with large openings through which we could see men feeding coal into the ship's furnace. There were planks placed on the coal which sloped up to these openings. Two of us were to fill the barrows, the third man push them up the planks and deliver. We took turns wheeling and shovelling. Wheeling the loaded barrows was most difficult, the sea becoming rougher as the weather worsened, it was almost impossible to keep them upright as we struggled up the plank. On several occasions one of us would lose our balance and fall over, sliding with the coal and barrow down the sloping mound of coal.

The stokers were using it as fast as we could deliver and kept calling on us for more. It was a hard eight hours slog. We were eventually relieved by the Japanese crew and taken to the showers, each of us receiving our reward of two rice balls. These were pure white, nothing like the dirty looking weevil ridden rice that we were being dished up in the hold.

It was the first time I had looked in a mirror since leaving Singapore and I was shocked at my appearance. I resembled and felt like a dirty unkempt tramp. That shower felt pretty good after going for so long without a wash or shave, I was loathe to leave it. Being forewarned, we had come prepared with our change of clothing, I had my tropical long trousers to wear so was able to was the filthy ones I had taken off. As we opened the oval door to go on deck to return to our hold, the gale force wind hit us. It was howling through the rigging and whipping the spray from the huge waves, the rain coming in almost horizontally.

The waves rose higher than the ship as we went into a rough, the next minute we were plunging through the waves then riding high on a crest. The deck and toilets were deserted and as the ship momentarily leveled out, we ran for our hold. We hadn't realised how ferocious the weather had turned during the last eight hours. Being in the bowels of the ship we hadn't heard the roar of the sea and wind, we certainly felt the motion. After the fresh air, the stench and warmth of the hold hit us but after a time one became acclimatized. It was pleasant to feel clean once again, so settled down and enjoyed a smoke of the rough tobacco I had kept in an old sock from my prison days in Java. The men around me were just as pleased that I had hung onto it. Cigarette papers were hard to come by, so all types of paper was used, I had the tobacco so finding the paper wasn't my problem in the barter system.

11: To Japan by Sea, a Terrible Voyage - Part 1.

Shortly after this, we had our orders to be ready the next day. After breakfast we were collected together and marched down to the docks. When we arrived there were already a number of prisoners boarding a small merchantman of about four thousand tons, the Dai Nicchi Maru, so were kept on the quayside until it was our turn to board. I noticed the ship was not very high from the quay or in the water, so gathered it must be pretty well loaded already.

The queue of men on deck led to the rear hold, we slowly made our way watched closely by several guards. I came to the steps and went down to the first level of the hold where guards were closing us up so no space was wasted – when all the floor area had been filled the hatch cover when on. The hold was lit by a couple of light bulbs on a piece of flex. It was sweltering hot and when my eyes became accustomed to the gloom, I saw I was in the centre with my back against the bulk head. There was just enough space to lie down with our few belongings. The hold was piled high with ore almost to our level, which we thought to be tin ore from Malaya. The deck below was stacked with vehicle engines and gearboxes.

There was the usual hubub of noise as the men talked and sorted themselves out, when suddenly above the noise a parade ground voice said “Gentlemen, if we could have your attention please”. There was a sudden hush, everyone appear to stop in mid-sentence. It was a long time since we had been on a parade ground, but his voice had the authority that we remembered and responded to immediately. As we looked through the gloom, four Sergeants could be seen standing at the bottom of the steps leading to the deck. One of them spoke saying there needed to be some organisation and if we had no objections, they would be willing to take charge. We had no idea what to expect in the days ahead and agreed it would be better for us all to have someone to work out rotas of any duties that may have to be carried out. They then asked for the most Senior Officer in the hold to join them as our spokesman to the Japanese. A Flight Lieutenant then came forward and agreed to be C.O. of the hold. That business dealt with, the hubub resumed.

The hold had become terribly hot and humid and some of the men needed to go to the toilet. The guard at the top of the steps told them they would have to wait until more men needed to go, so I and others joined them. There were two rows of wooden cubicles at the stern which partly hung over the sea and didn't look too safe, one row on either side of the ship, one side for Japanese use, the other for ours. There was no washing facilities whatsoever.

I learnt later that there were a thousand prisoners on board, divided between the two holds at the stern. Whilst queuing for the toilets, I met up with some men from Bouie Glodok prison. They had left a fortnight after our departure and put directly on board the ship, and had been cramped in the other hold for four days before we boarded. I was glad I had volunteered to go, my predictions had come true.

We had been on board for about six hours, when some rice in two large wicker baskets and some buckets of a pink fishy smelling liquid were lowered into the hold. The Sergeants immediately appeared and stood by the food, informing us they would serve it. Whilst two did the serving, the other two saw to it that one section of the hold at a time got their share. They worked the amount out well will a little over, this was then shared round equally. I think we were all grateful to those Sergeants for their foresight and willingness to work to make things run smoothly.

We sailed about nine o’clock that night, the hold felt less humid so we settled down to sleep. There was a blackout on the ship, but our lights were left on. I slept well that night with the motion of the ship and the sound of the waves slapping against the hold.

The next day it became clear what our routine was to be, we had two meals each day, the same diet of rice and pink liquid for every meal, drinking water was obtained on deck, but only when going to the toilet. The worst part was not being able to wash ourselves. We had to wait until then men needed to use the toilet before being allowed on deck, so there was always a queue, this made it possible to stay on deck for a spell of fresh air. Needless to say the odour in the hold was unpleasant with so many unwashed bodies.

The guards became more relaxed whilst at sea. One day whilst on deck I saw three ships in our little convoy escorted by a destroyer. The ships were not large so assumed there must be submarines in the area to need a destroyer escort. It was now about eleven months since America came into the war and they were probably becoming quite active in the area now. I was thinking we wouldn't stand much chance if we were unlucky enough to be torpedoed.

Back to Singapore, Changi Army Barracks

The next morning I collected my few belongings together in my kitbag, along with my hoard of tobacco which I kept in an old worn out sock, my rice bowl and soup dish near the top just in case it was needed for a meal. When the working party had left we were called to parade ready to move, a last count and off we were marched and on our way to the docks, still wearing my bits of canvas boots.

We hadn't been told where we were heading for, but one of the guards said we were going where there was ice and snow and that could only mean Japan. My ideas and thoughts about going there were that we would be put in a proper P.O.W. camp, with perhaps the occasional letter from home and the odd Red Cross parcel, with good chance of surviving to see the end of the war. How naive of me. I was in for one big culture shock.

At the docks we boarded a merchant ship, about four hundred Airmen and Army personnel altogether, and put in the hold, it seemed no worse that our cells, the toilets were situated aft of the ship. We sorted ourselves out ad weren't too crowded, the hold covers were left off and the sun shone down giving us plenty of light.

Our meals were lowered down the hold in baskets, rice and soup twice each day, at 10.00 a.m. and 4.00 p.m. We were able to get drinking water from the tap on deck and allowed to wash with sea water. When on deck, I noticed there were no escorting ships and there seemed to be no other soldiers, other than the guards watching over us. As we sailed along we passed small islands of waving palms and sandy beaches, which looked so tranquil.

The war seemed unreal and just didn't fit in with the scenery. All this was observed on trips to the toilet, the only time were were allowed to move out of the hold. After three days, we arrived at Singapore and told to disembark. We were marched to Changi Army Barracks, a huge place that had been divided into fenced off sections, there was a gate in each section which led into the open areas, were manned machine gun post and searchlights. The boundary was surrounded by a twenty feet high fence.

My pal Bill and I with others, were put into a barrack block in one of the sections which was fairly crowded, the beds were gone so it meant sleeping on a concrete floor again. There were no guards here except for the occasional one passing through. If for any reason we needed to go to another section, we would have to wait until about ten men had collected, then wait for a guard to escort us across. It seemed like a holiday camp after the suffering I had witnesses and experienced for the last six months.

The rice for our meals was supplied by the Japanese with some vegetables, other food such as tinned meat and fish by the army N.C.O’s from huge stores. I was told a ten thousand ton Red Cross ship had docked with enough food, clothing and medical supplies to supply all the needs of the prisoners for the next six months. They had all been issued with Red Cross parcels before our arrival, all were being issued with English cigarettes, we as ‘visitors’ passing through weren’t given any. The ship had docked three months before our arrival, so I visited the store to see if I could get a pair of boots, but was told I was too late, there weren’t any. We asked some of the camp residents what work they were put to and were told there was no organised work. When labour was required for jobs inside or outside the camp, the N.C.O's would supply the necessary number of men.

I heard there was an Army dentist in another section of the camp, so applied for permission to visit him, deciding it would be a good idea to have a check-up by a British dentist whilst the opportunity was there. It was about twelve months since my previous check-up and knew we would be moving on as soon as a ship was available. When arriving at the dentist, I must confess when I saw the equipment he was using, I wasn't looking forward to any treatment that might be necessary. The drill, with a cable drive, was on an upright machine which had a treadle worked by an Army medial assistant, I had never seen anything like it before.

On examining my teeth, the dentist told me one needed filling and another would have to be taken out, which he said but for his limited supplied and equipment, could have been saved under different circumstances. The drilling was painful, but I kept telling myself it would be far worse if a Jap was doing it. I had cocaine for the tooth extraction and didn't feel it come out, but heard the tooth hit the bottom of the enamel bucket standing by the chair with some bloody water covering the bottom, probably so the patients didn't see the extracted teeth. I then realised why the chaps thought I was completely mad when telling them I was going to visit the dentist for a check-up. In spite of all this he did a very good job, I suffered no dental problems in the remaining two years and ten months of my captivity.

One of the permanent prisoners who had been given new boots gave me his worn out pair. The soles were almost through, so I cut my Javanese paid to make inner soles to fit them. One morning I was detailed to go with a working party and taken in a Japanese truck to a large hospital, where we were given small hand scythes and told to cut the grass. We just hacked away at the grass with no one working particularly hard. There were guards with us but they gave no orders.

I noticed there was a great number of wounded Japanese soldiers there and many of them had lost limbs. Most of the seemed to want to converse with the prisoners, the guards making no attempts to stop this. During the day two of them made their way across to me, one of them had lost a leg below the knee, caused by shell fire he said. He could speak a little English and told me his friend was blind. He asked me, “Was I in the RAF”, which I affirmed, he then said his friend was driving a truck when attacked by a RAF fighter, he was the only survivor and asked could he touch my face. Feeling apprehensive and half expecting my eyes to be gouged out, I replied yes. He felt my forehead, my eyes, down my face to my chin, he then put his hands on my shoulders and pulled me to him holding me for a short while. He then asked if he could have my RAF hat badge, which I gave him. They then gave me some cigarettes and said goodbye. That episode left me feeling rather bewildered and perplexed by the totally unexpected behaviour from these Japanese soldiers, it was so unreal after all the brutality and privation of recent months.

I lay awake for quite a while that night, thinking of the lack of hate that I had expected from them due to their injuries from which they would never fully recover. I felt that they were trying to tell me that we were no longer enemies fighting each other, our particular war had ended. I remembered hearing about and seeing pictures of their war with China and thinking what a cold brutal nation they must be, which sentiments had been borne out since being taken prisoner.

The next surprise in Changi camp was that they had a shop selling food for pound notes, US dollars and Straits dollars. Bill and I still had some straits dollars so brought some tins of herrings in tomato sauce and some tinned sausages, which we thought we might need when moved on.

9: Gardening - Part 2.

There were two Javanese serving prison sentences in charge of us. I was given a plot of land, a mattock and some peanuts to plant, this was easy work compared with what I had been doing. The Japanese guard would disappear shortly after taking us to work, on some occasions he would stay for a longer period, as soon as he had left the two Javanese would go missing but would always be back before the guard returned.

The papaya trees had ripe fruit but were just out of reach, so one of us had to climb up and just take one or two so they wouldn't be missed, these we shared between the ten of us. On one occasion as I climbed, giant red ants swarmed all over me, they had a very nasty nip. when picking papayas, one leaf would come away with each fruit leaving a diamond shape mark on the drunk, so great care had to be taken as to where they were harvested. We had to take even greater care when picking bananas, they were a fruit immensely favoured by the Japanese, to take any ripe fruit would be asking for trouble. When possible, I would pick a green bunch and hide it under the prison garden rubbish, where it soon ripened.

One of the gun posts on the prison wall, overlooked part of our garden, so someone had to keep watch whilst this was being executed. We were not searched when going back to the prison as was the custom when returning from the airport, so I was able to smuggle in a couple of bananas now and again. These could be traded for a tobacco issue from a non-smoker. The tobacco had a low value because of the poor quality and was not easy to exchange, but I thought it was worth getting a stock in before the issue dried up. My allotted plot of land had to be kept weeded and after a fortnight, there were only one or two peanut shoots growing, so I scraped some of the soil away and found the peanuts intact, so when no one was about I'd eat some.

My fellow gardeners and I always kept up with the work as we were loathe to lose the job. My toes began to heal, I had tied rags round them and managed to keep them fairly clean, they certainly felt more comfortable.

One evening we received a visit from our Wing Commander, who informed us that the work at the airfield was almost complete, so some men were to be moved. He had worked out the ratio of men required from each cell, the number from ours would be twenty. It was left to us to decide who should go. He would be returning the next day for the names of the twenty men. I was in favour of going, my reason being that as some of us were to be moved now, the others would certainly follow later. By that time America would be regaining her strength in the Pacific, making it far more hazardous to leave at a later date. I could see no reason why we would be moved to another area in Java and felt certain we would be shipped somewhere and thought it better to go sooner rather than later, there being less likelihood of being bombed or sunk on the way. My pal Bill was not keen to make the move and said he would stay, but the next evening when I gave my name, he decided to join me. All twenty required from our cell volunteered, so there were no problems. I continued working in the garden until told, together with several others, not to go to work one morning. We were taken in groups into the Japanese building, given a medical check, a glass tube put up our backsides and an injection, then sent back to our cells. A few days later we were told we would be moving the next day.

9: Gardening - Part 1.

By now my shoes were wearing out rather rapidly. When we left Singapore in a hurry, I was unfortunately wearing my walking out shoes, which were allowed in the operation room. Most of the airmen were wearing their rubber soled boots which were far more durable. I had been putting anything and everything I could find, to put inside to block the holes in the soles, but now they were completely gone, I was left with just uppers. I had previously spoken to our N.C.O. about my predicament but he had told me no footwear was available.

That evening I showed him what was left of my shoes and told him I could not possibly wear them any longer, to which he agreed. He said he would see if anything could be done about it. He returned about half an hour later with a pair of Javanese army boots, size six, I wore size eight and a half to nine. They were made of green canvas with a stitched on leather heel, toe cap and laced up front. The N.C.O. said it was best he could do and suggested that I cut the toecaps off, which I did. They were far from comfortable, as too much of my food was poking out, but decided I would have to wear them or nothing the next day.

The march to work was agonising, my toes were cut and battered by the sharp stones, I tried in vain to walk holding my toes in the air. At work I cut the heels out of the boots, hoping I could distribute my feet better with less hangover at the front, but didn't seem to improve matters. I walked and worked in these for days until my toes were just one bloody mess, no skin was left under the toes and the tops were split open and full of dirt and dust.

I had to go to the M.O. eventually to see if I could be excused work. Fortunately there were not too many off sick at that time, there were a few men swollen up and suffering from Beri Beri and some cases of dysentery, so he said he would do his best and try and get me off. I wen to work the following day and was told that evening I was to work in the prison garden until my feet had healed, or until I could be supplied with some other footwear.

Next morning together with the other workers, about ten of us, we left the prison accompanied by one guard and reported for work in the garden which was about half an acre of fenced in land behind the prison which reached to the river, the Javanese huts being on the opposite bank. The first job given to me was a sit down one. I had to cut the spines from coconut palm fronts which I then bound together, making brooms for the prison use. I was allowed to make one for our cell. By the time I had made enough brooms my toes had started to heal, the wounds and gashes knitting together. I was then put to work in the growing area.

Growing in the garden were tomatoes, papayas, bananas and some root crops but no potatoes, which I understand had been tried but without success. The tomato plants apparently had started to grow after someone in the prison had eaten some tinned tomatoes in his possession, and the seed has passed through him into the toilet channel This passed through the garden on its way to the river, the see had germinated in the earth at the sides of the channel in the garden. Someone had recognised the plants, replanted them and they were now flourishing, and from that beginning we sometimes had tomato added to our soup.

8: Almost Death By Sword, A Lucky Escape - Part 2.

The work on the runways after four months of hard labour was beginning to show signs of completion. Some prisoners were put to mixing and laying cement to level off to the existing runway. We had been running out of material to fill the holes, so lorry loads of earth and rubble had been brought in to top up the holes. There were no tools for compacting this filling, so consequently when put to use and heavy trucks were driven on it, the runway would sink. This boded ill for the men on this particular job, they were rounded up and beaten, being accused of trying to crash Japanese planes as they landed.

The job seemed never ending, we had no news of outside events or how the war was progressing and realised there was a small possibility of us being rescued. Rules had relaxed a little by now. There was a general leisurely attitude and confidence about the Japanese soldiers and no air raid precautions that we knew of. Permission was given for us to have concerts in the yard, arranged by the prisoners. Some of the Army chaps formed a band, some sung and others did sketches and of course there were a lot of coarse jokes. Some of the prison staff watched with amusement and it helped to brighten up our days.

We had been imprisoned for about five months when our names, rank and number were taken, we were told our details were being forwarded to the Red Cross so that we could be reported as P.O.W’s. I was young and single and didn't have the worries as those with families had, which made it easier to deal with the present predicament. I knew that if I hadn't been taken prisoner, I could have been dead long before a letter reached home with the news. Our cigar ration ceased and in its place was the occasional use of tobacco. This was pretty awful stuff that hadn't been properly processed. Our guess was that the factory's supply of cigarettes and cigars had run out and we were now being given the remaining stock of tobacco.

As work once again, as we were being detailed off for our holes, two of the Japanese soldiers spoke to our guards, I was pointed out and told to go with them. I was marched between them feeling some trepidation, as we went towards the large open spaces of the airport perimeter. After a while we halted and I was told to pick up a coil of wire and canvas bag which was lying on the ground, we then continued on our way until the boundary fence was reached. The guards then sat down and motioned for me to sit, telling me I could smoke. I didn't carry any with me to work, saving it for when I laid down on the gravel in the yard wrapped in my blanket each night, when I endeavoured to forget my sore and aching body and stem the gnawing hunger pains. The cigarettes helped me relax as I dreamed of food, fried bacon, delicious food before falling to sleep from exhaustion. When I didn't respond and light up, one of the soldiers asked did I have any cigarettes, I told him no, so he gave me one.

After a rest I was given a pair of pliers taken from the canvas bag, a coil of wire and told to repair a large hole that had been cut in the surrounding chain link fence. As they sat watching, I made as good a job as was possible which seemed to please them. I was then given another rest and another smoke and couldn't believe my luck. We then moved to a smaller hole which I also set to and repaired, then it was meal time. We sat down and a small fish was produced from the bag and given to me to eat with my rice. I drank my water as they collected bits of wood and lit a fire, on which they brewed themselves a tea. We had some talk with signs and gestures and a little of our own language thrown in. Nearby were some goats grazing, for which I suspect the Javanese had cut the wire. One of the soldiers took his metal cup and fitted his water bottle and milked one of the goats, he then mixed in some sugar and placed it on the fire to warm, he then gave it to me telling me it would do me good.

After repairing two more holes, we sat back until it was time for them to take me back to join the main party for the march back to prison. Coming back down to earth next day, the hard labour of filling the bomb holes continued. One runway was now completed and in use, but there was very little air activity, which indicated that no offensive was being launched by either side, so we had no fears of being bombed or attacked whilst at work.

8: Almost Death By Sword, A Lucky Escape - Part 1.

On our way to and from the airport we marched along a narrow gravel road to where we crossed a railway line at a level crossing. The trains that ran on this line were electric powered by overhead cable, not unlike our suburban trains at home.

On either side of the gravel road was a twenty feet wide grass verge which bordered a plantation of coconut palms.

One evening, on our way back to camp we were halted, a train was due. Where I had stopped, close by was a Javanese with his push tea-stall selling cakes and biscuits. The train hadn't yet arrived, I was starving hungry as always, and, having my Dutch guilders with me, decided to take a chance, leaving the ranks to buy some cakes, hoping to get back in line before any of the guards saw me.

When I arrived at his stall the Javanese trader seemed frightened and made no attempt to serve me. I pointed to the cakes behind the glass showing him my money, when I heard calls from the ranks, “Get back, they're coming”, I moved quickly with a glance as I went and saw one of the guards running towards me. I resumed my position in the ranks just before he reached me. He stopped and motioned for someone to move out, I was well aware of the collective punishment handed out if I didn't move, so stepped out onto the verge.

A Sergeant arrived and spoke to the guard, I was then moved further on to the verge so that I was in full view of the whole column of prisoners, presumably so they could witness my punishment. I had not, so far, received any of the anticipated blows which seemed most unusual.

Next, the Japanese Officer-in-charge came along. The Sergeant called me to attention in front of the Officer, who then began to speak to me in Japanese and by the tone of his voice, I knew it was a reprimand. This was the first time since the start of my captivity that I had been, or had witnessed a formal lecture being given. Usually, there was a shout then blows from a rifle butt, kicking and punching. I was wondering, was I being given notice of a court martial?

Honour and trust was valued highly by the Japanese and I began to think I had insulted the Officer-in-charge by leaving the ranks. I had no idea what he was saying, my only course was to look him straight in the eyes as I received his verbal abuse. His tone became more agitated as he worked himself into a frenzy. I prepared myself for the blows that were sure to follow as his rage increased. I knew a formal charge wasn't going to happen now, he was just another Japanese about to launch into another kicking and punching frenzy.

Suddenly, in one swift movement, he unsheathed his two-handed Samurai sword and raised it with both hands above his head. I managed to retain my steady gaze, keeping eye contact. My thoughts were, ‘So this is the end, at the side of a Javanese road, I wonder if it will hurt, will it need two blows?’ We stared at each other in silence, my next thought was, ‘This is not a very brave thing to do, chopping down an unarmed man’, trying to convey these thoughts to him with my eyes.

I do not know how long we stood thus, there was plenty of time for my thoughts as the silence continued. Suddenly he moved, slowly lowering the sharp edge of the sword onto my shoulder and stopped, then gently slid it off towards him, replacing it in its sheath. Perhaps he intended to cut through my shirt to show me what I had narrowly missed, but this was intact when I examined it later.

He then spoke calmly, wagging his finger in front of my face, and by the tone of his voice, I could only assume the message was “Don't do that again, or else”, which I didn't ever intend to. I was just thankful that my head was still firmly fixed to my body. He then motioned for me to rejoin the ranks.

Afterwards, I pondered over my narrow escape and wondered, was it because I looked him straight in the eye, did my thoughts reach him, was I honourable because I never moved the whole time and remained standing to attention? The answer I will never know. The Japanese were certainly very strange people. I felt sorry for the Javanese trader who I had involved. He had panicked and ran off when the he saw the guards coming after me. They had called on him to stop, but he had kept on running, so some shots had been fired. I think he reached the palm trees safely, so he may have got away. His tea and cake stall was overturned by the guards, the glass broken and the contents kicked about. A high price to pay by an innocent man.

When we moved off there were a lot of comments and questions from my fellow prisoners. “Was I frightened?”, “Did my past flash before me?” and comments such as “You were lucky”, “That was close” and “You won't do that again in a hurry”.

I had to agree, it had certainly been a close thing. I did wonder if, when we reached the prison, I would be taken for punishment, but fortunately not, as I had been dealt with on the spot by an officer. Next day, as we passed the spot I looked for the wrecked stall, it had completely disappeared, reclaimed later for repair I hope.

7: Hard Labour, Batavia Airfield - Part 2.

It was clear that our captors were striving to bring the airfield we were working at up to operational use and that we were the only prisoners available at that time to do the work. My own thoughts at the time were to wonder whether the urgency was because they intended to strike at the surrounding islands from there.

Each night after roll call in the cell, I'd take my blanket outside and lay watching the tops of the waving palms that grew the other side of the prison wall and think of the wonderful world out there, it was the only time of day I felt at peace. My other thoughts were mainly of food, good food, lovely meals and to feel free. The first man to die in the camp was an airman, a muscular man who had given demonstrations on muscle control as entertainment on the troopship coming from England to Singapore. We were stunned that such a superbly fit man should die. Other deaths followed, some from dysentery, others just seemed to lose the will to live. The sick bay was situated in the Army part of the camp and as most deaths and burials took place whilst we were at work, we were unaware of just how many occurred unless they were actually from our cell.

We never waited around in our cells for the guards to come for us in the morning if we could help it, it was not that we were keen to get to work, but anxious to avoid the digs from their rifles and blows from the butts, so we would be ready and waiting in the yard. Several mornings as I sat waiting, I notice one of the Army chaps who looked familiar but never gave any sign that he recognised me. I was sure I had met him and that he was from Tilbury in Essex. One morning I tried to chat but he didn't speak another word. I'd never seen anyone look so unhappy. His friend said he was not feeling too well, so I left him be At a later date I saw his friend alone who tole me the chaps wife had written to him saying she was going to live with another man. He had received the letter just before being captured. A few weeks alter I was told he had died.

One night an Australian aircrew of three men escaped from the prison and managed to reach the airfield, they were captured as they attempted to ready a plane for flight, all were shot the following day. Several men who had slept next to and near the escapees were taken from their cell and put in a detention camp for two weeks, where they were badly treated and given just one meal a day. Their crime was that they had not reported that their companions were planning to escape. There were no further attempts after that, as we were told in future it would not be detention camp but the firing squad, they knowing that we would not leave our pals to suffer the penalty for us.

Some of the prisoners, including myself, began to get sweat rash around our groin, it was probably something to do with our bad diet. The M.O. had nothing with which to treat us so it steadily became worse. It was not caused by un-cleanliness, as we now had the wash cubicles which we used regularly. I had an area of around six inches down the inside of each leg that had turned red raw, my scrotum had lost all of its skin and oozed a clear liquid. This made me very uncomfortable, especially at work, so I tore up a worn shirt and tied it to my belt from and rear to help prevent the chafing. Our M.O. eventually came up with a cure. We were to urinate into a tin and then bathe the affected parts with urine. It took time, but gradually healed. Any sign of it starting up again, we immediately started the treatment. It was about this time we began receiving the occasional packet of cigarettes.

Marching to work one day, we were stopped outside what had been a Dutch Army barracks. An officer asked if any of us knew anything about painting. Five men, including myself, put our hands up. I was chosen and taken inside to the kitchen area by a Japanese soldier where there was a huge dresser, a pot of paint and a brush. I looked at the dresser and decided it needed cleaning before it could be painted. When the soldier who had left returned, I pointed out what needed to be done, so off he went and returned with a bucket and cleaning rags. I then carried on with the work with occasional visits from my soldier guard.

Just before midday he came and asked where I was from, I told him England. He then pulled from his pocket a postcard size photo of a Japanese girl about to be raped by Uncle Sam with John Bull holding her down. I didn't know quite what to say, his gaze watching my face intently as he awaited my answer. He then pointed to me and said “You Japan”, I told him we didn't do things like that and pointed out that both Uncle Sam and John Bull in the photo both had slanted eyes. With signs and gestures, we both agreed we were members of our country's armed forces and enemies. He then told me to stop work and have my meal. I then washed my hands in preparation to eat. My soldier returned once again and asked to see my food. He then waved his hand over it and told me not to eat it. He once again disappeared and on the return, brought me a cooked dinner of meat, green beans and rice on a plate. What a feast! It was unbelievable to be sitting at a table eating a good meal and feeling like a human being again.

He was a young soldier who I thought must have come from Japan for the invasion of Java and as the Dutch has capitulated, had had no experience of fighting or seen any bloodshed. When I finished work that day, I asked if I would be needed next day, to which he nodded yes. My sank as we continued to march past without halting the following morning. The guards at the camp who changed monthly, were entirely different and hardened species. We were forced to stop and bow to them as they walked around the yard and stand up and bow when they entered our cells. Out of the ratio of five guards, one would be a brute who would look out for any excuse to beat or club one of us with his rifle, one to be avoided at all costs, the remaining four not quite so sadistic but needed to be treated with caution.

One day a civilian was brought into camp who was said to be a Swiss naturalist captured in the jungle. It wasn't long before he was helping out in the cookhouse saying he could improve our diet using the plants that were plentiful and growing locally. There seemed to be an improvement in our soup on occasions, but it wasn't to last as he was moved from camp after three weeks. I read after the war that it was Laurens Van Der Post, who had probably been spying for the allies.

Whilst working at the airfield, if near the perimeter fence, Javanese would come with bananas and other fruit and offer to sell to the prisoners at outrageous prices, the guards on odd occasions would allow this. I had some genuine Dutch Guilders but Japanese currency of occupation was now in use. We were now being paid a small amount of cash, I used mine to buy razor blades, toothpaste and soap at the camp, which was awfully poor quality stuff but better than none. The person in charge of our cell would be called to the main building and handed our pay with the goods to sell. There was never sufficient cash to buy all three items at once, so always had to decided which I needed most. The cigarette issue had been stopped and we were now given three small cigars on the odd occasion.