14: Christmas, Red Cross Relief, Constant Illness and Death of a Friend - Part 2.

During the afternoon, I had seen a stack of loaded fish crates and decided to help myself to one just before we were due to return to camp. It began to get gloomy and the foreman started to collect the men together. I asked if I could go to the toilet, he said okay. As I passed the stacked fish, I put my hand out and just grabbed one, holding it close to me until I got to the toilet.

I hadn't much time to hide it and planned to put it inside my shirt at the waist. When searched the guard only looked in our side haversack which we carried. There were no pockets large enough on our jackets to carry anything in. When I looked at the fish, I realised it wasn't going to easy, it was rather larger than I had anticipated, almost as long as my leg, so I thought the only way to get him back to camp was down the inside of my trousers. I lowered this cold fish down my leg, the pants had tapes to tie them up at the waist, so I put the fish tail above my belt and tied it with the tapes to my belt. My previously long pants were now short pants, as I had torn the legs off to make bandages for my weeping sore legs when I went to bed. The walk back to camp was usually pretty unbearable, but that evening was excruciating with the fish chafing and rubbing salt into my sores and the spines sticking into me every step of the way, my legs felt on fire. I just prayed that I could get this prize back to camp safely.

At intervals along the way, I had to pull it up to stop it from coming out into my boots. Standing still singing in the snow that night didn’t seem half so bad as was usual. Inside the hut at last, I pulled the fish out, it was a beauty. I took it to the toilets to clean it out, this was the one place we prisoners could dispose of anything. The toilets were oblong holes to squat over and underneath was the open cesspit, soiled blankets were sometimes disposed of this way. After cleaning the fish, I took it back to my room. Bill look at it and said “Are you going to give me some of that?” I felt hurt and said “Whatever made you say a thing like that?” He replied that as he didn’t go to work he would not be able to give me anything. I told him we had always shared in the past and as far as I was concerned, it was the same now.

Bill seemed to be cracking up. I cut two large chunks, a piece each for Bill and myself and cooked it in the stove ash pit, the rest I gave to the men gathered round the stove to share amongst them. A guard came in later and started sniffing about and said “Fish?”. A couple of tins of barnacles were produced that hadn't been eaten and indicated others had just been cooked, he seemed satisfied with the explanation and walked off.

After we had eaten, the risk seemed worthwhile just to have a full stomach for once, I didn't dare think of the consequences if I had been caught. I must stress again how important food was to us, it was our main waking thought. We had been prisoners for more than a year without a decent meal and the hunger never left us.

My sores were getting worse and my legs hurt with every step of our march to and from work and then having to stand to attention, the pain was unbearable, if I was able to move my legs slightly, the pain eased. I was caught moving and received a heavy blow across my back that almost knocked me down, one had to remain standing at all cost otherwise there were kicks as well if you fell to the ground. Mentally I tried to work out what I could do, the constant pain was disturbing my sleep night after night and I needed to rest badly.

I was now having to do everything for Bill when I came home from work. I did his washing, washed his food utensils, made his bed and washed him. He didn't have any conversation anymore, just kept repeating that he would not be able to ride his motorbike again with hands like his. I tried to convince him that they would heal in time as I had hoped my hands and legs would, but I wasted my time, I couldn't get through to him.

Thinking about it at work the next day, I decided I would see the chap that was running the sick bay and get Bill in there until he got better. I managed to see him that evening and he told me there was a space available, so returned to our room and told Bill. I also told him I just couldn’t carry on as I was, it was as much as I could do to look after myself. He didn’t want to go and said he preferred me to look after him. I think I would have done my best to carry on and manage somehow, but for his miserable outlook and constant moaning about there being no point in living if he couldn’t ride his bike again and keep telling me to look at the state of his hands. My own hands were continually  running with pus and looked as if I was holding scrambled egg yokes in the palm of my hand as it ran between my fingers. I did not feel a lot of sympathy for him, as he completely ignored the state I was in. All I wanted to do after my evening meal was to crawl into my blankets and be left alone. I wanted to try to forget the constant pain and didn't feel like conversing with anyone.

Next evening when I returned he had gone, his blankets and belongings had been moved, so after I had eaten and washed, I went along and sat with him, he hardly spoke except to tell me about his hands and not being able to ride his bike. I looked at the vacant expression on his face and knew he had given up, we was as good as dead. The next night was the same with less conversation, it was one sided as I tried to get through to him by talking about motorbikes with no response.

The next morning I was almost ready for work when the sick bay attendant came to me and said you better come and see your mate, because he is going to die shortly. I went quickly with him and there was Bill lying motionless in bed, I tried to get some response from him, talking to him, nothing happened so I bent over him and called his name, a flicker of a smile came over his face, then he was gone. The orderly said “I’ll see you tonight”.

My thoughts that day were naturally occupied with Bill dying, wondering if by getting him moved, I had caused his death. I concluded I may have hastened his end, but he would have died anyway, he had decided and constantly told me life wasn’t worth living.

That night the orderly came and told me Bill was to be cremated the following day and I was to be one of the bearers. I was excused standing by Bill’s body that night as I was a regular working. The sick mates of a man who had died previously were ordered by guards to stand by his body during the night. In the gloom the rats had eaten parts of the body and when discovered the next morning, the sick men suffered a beating from the Japanese guards.

I didn’t go to work the next day and during the morning, I was called by the guard to come. There were two Japanese civilians, the orderly and myself. Bill had been put into a barrel, knees up and hands folded across his chest. The barrel was then filled with sawdust and a lid put in place. It was then put into something that resembled a sedan chair with one man at each corner, curtains covering the barrel. We walked out of camp with a guard in attendance along the road to a Japanese cemetery, this we walked through and up a hill. At the top was a crematorium. This was a large brick oven with an iron door, the furnace underneath and a chimney at the back. The barrel was lifted into the oven and the door shut. The guard then motioned us to return to camp.

14: Christmas, Red Cross Relief, Constant Illness and Death of a Friend - Part 1.

I had been at Hakodate for one month and my first Christmas as a P.O.W. was approaching, we were told we would have Christmas day off. The day arrived and we were given a British Red Cross parcel, which contained a tin each of corned beef, creamed rice and herring in tomato sauce, also some tea, sugar and powdered milk, the cigarettes had been taken out before being issued. How we enjoyed that food, it certainly helped to raise our spirits. I made my food last as long as I could eating it with the rice, but how I missed it when it had all gone. No one will ever see cleaner tins. We then had a bright idea and filled these empty cans with water, crowding them on the top of the stove to boil, this help temporarily to fill and warm our stomachs.

I think most of our thoughts that Christmas day were of home and the big dinner we would eat, then relaxing comfortably round the warm fire. So back to work next day with no improvements in conditions or weather, the snow, ice and howling winds continued and worsened and we were still having to stand singing in these conditions at the end of each working day. Soon after we were issued with a card which we filled in with our name, number rank etc, for the Red Cross. It was sometime in February that I received a card from my Mother with the permitted twenty five word message written thereon.

One night I dreamed I heard footsteps and thought it was my Mother bringing me a cup of tea in bed. The dream was shattered when I was woken by a guard prodding me with his bayonet, it was his footsteps that I had heard. I couldn’t collect my thoughts to accept the situation, more prodding from the guard brought me back to reality.

At work one day, my stomach seemed a little upset and uncomfortable, I just hoped it was not he start of dysentery. That evening I ate my meal and after roll call went to bed still feeling not quite right. I was woken during the night with severe stomach pains and needed to go to the toilet immediately. As I struggled to sit up the exertion and violet pain in my stomach doubled me up and I knew any further movement would empty my bowels. I tried to think what to do, I didn't want to ruin my bed, I had seen the awful results to those who had been unfortunate enough to have it happen to them, the almost impossible task of washing the blanket clean and, even worse, trying to dry them. Worst of all, was the loss of warmth of that unusable blanket.

I suddenly remembered that behind my head was my rice bowl and decided I would have to use that. Slowly I moved to make no effort at turning round, trying not to put any strain on my stomach, hoping there would be no further violent spasms before I had the bowl in position. I had just managed to ease it under me when another spasm left me with no control whatsoever over my bowels and it emptied into the bowl. I felt ashamed at what I had done and endeavoured to get out from under my blankets without waking the other men.

I went to the toilet and washed myself and the bowl thoroughly in icy water. Getting back into bed my stomach felt better and I was relieved that my blankets were still warm and dry. It was an emergency so was content that I had done the right thing. I decided to report to the sick list next morning, to see the orderly on my return from work. That evening I went to see the Jap sick bay attendant and told him of my stomach upset. The treatment he gave me was a hard case, not unlike a spectacle case but twice as large, which contained an inch thick charcoal rod, which he lit before closing the lid. He instructed me to go straight to bed placing the case on my stomach where most painful. Of course I had to get up for roll call, he also gave me some charcoal to chew. The case became rather warm and was very soothing as I lay in bed, but I had to return it the next day. The charcoal was not very palatable or digestible, but decided that if it was going to help prevent me becoming like those other unfortunate men who had started with similar upsets before going down with dysentery, I would persevere with it until I had use it all.

Once more my luck held, the stomach upset cleared up and I was soon back as normal as could be expected in the circumstances. There was one poor fellow, an Army chap, who we discovered when he died had soiled all ten of his blankets in turn, folding over each one as they became soiled. He had moved his bed into the hall before dying, to be near the toilets.

There were now small naval vessels coming in to the shipyard for their bottoms to be cleaned, which was one of the worst jobs that in the end proved to be the best. The men put to work on them, managed to keep some of the barnacles and that is where our Red Cross parcel empty tins came in for further use. There was now a mass of little tins containing stewing barnacles crammed on the stove top each evening. We were searched on our return from work each night before being allowed in, but a few barnacles didn't seem to matter. Those little pleasures helped to take our minds off the dreadful daily routine. Forever working, marching and standing in the snow, in the bitter cold, singing Japanese songs.

My hands were cracked, bleeding and painfully sore, it was a terrible existence. I felt that my mind was becoming affected also. In Java when resident in Bouie Glodok prison, I used to daydream about the end of the war and our forces releasing us from prison, but here at Hakodate, I didn't think much further than tomorrow and those thoughts were always depressing.

March came and still the snow and ice. We were not getting enough food to keep us going, the only vegetables in our diet were some radish and potato in our soup now and again and on the odd occasion, a small piece of herring for lunch measuring about two inches. We were paid enough to buy a packet of tobacco each month, a razor blade and toothpaste on occasions, soap was pretty scarce and food, definitely none.

About mid March my hands started to break out in sores between the fingers. These scabby sores then filled with pus. I washed them in the sea hoping the salt content would heal them, but this didn't work, they just worsened and soon were breaking out on my legs, below the knees at first and later above. At the same time my friend Bill’s hand started to swell, his fingers were twice the size their normal size. My hands were painfully sore and from time to time had to wipe the pus away as it ran down my fingers. My legs were in an awful state and the Japanese long pants would stick to them at night, so when I moved in the morning, they pulled the scabs off and blood and pus would run down my legs.

I told my foreman at work, no more kicking me in the legs and when I showed him why, he looked horrified, so we called a truce and I saluted him on leaving work. Meanwhile, Bill’s hands swelled up so he could hardly use his fingers. He was excused work and had to see the doctor on his regular visit a couple of days later. On my return from work that night, I found Bill distressed. He showed me his hands, the doctor had cut his palms open diagonally from forefinger to wrist without anaesthetic and scraped out the pus that had caused the swelling. He could use his fingers with some effort, but the whole episode had greatly depressed him. We badly needed something to lift our spirits and the opportunity presented itself a couple of days later at work.

13: Hard Labour, Hakodate Shipyard - Part 2.

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.

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.

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.