Burma Railway Man: Secret Letters From a Japanese Pow Read online

  We had to move to the other end of the camp – into one end of a normal sleeping hut. This morning I got hold of a small working party to get the hut or, at least, the end four bays of it – turned into a makeshift canteen.

  At about 4pm, Lt. Oda came up in a terrific rage. He, apparently, knew absolutely nothing of the orders given me by the ‘A side’ Gunza, since the Canteen is his ‘pigeon’. Unfortunately, he exploded at the wrong person and I had to get an interpreter before he would cool down. He afterwards admitted to me that, if a Nippon WO ordered me to do a thing, even shifting the Canteen, then I had to do it.

  This is typical of the Jap Army. One department does a thing, which is completely opposite to the other. A private soldier in one department will override the ruling of an officer from a rival department. It is no use being told to build a hut by the officer commanding the camp unless one gets on the right side of the Korean in charge of bamboo. Again, when a Nip is on guard, be is a direct representative of the Emperor and can do almost what he wants. I saw a Nippon Sodjo (WOII) slapped by a Korean private at Nong Pladuk, because the former didn’t bow properly …

  We are now busily organising this new canteen.

  Charles had even become involved ‘minting’ the prisoner’s currency.

  When I get back to England – and things seem brighter now – I shall be one of the few people who have issued their own currency system.

  I took over the Camp Mint at the same time as the Canteen and spend a certain time each day in signing fresh cardboard tokens, as old ones wear out.

  At the moment, there is about 1,000 dollars in 20’s and 10’s and 5 cents in circulation. These are necessary, because of the paucity of metal Thai currency.

  With defeat after defeat, the Japanese were becoming increasingly nervous that their thousands of prisoners might be organized by the Thai underground or act on their own to try and overthrow their captors. Security became tighter and the guards more vigilant.

  Letter 169 Ubon July’45

  My Own Wife,

  Restrictions are getting tight every day. I am afraid I cannot write letters so regularly as usual, as they are now have to be done at night and then re-buried. The Japanese civilian interpreter now searches one hut at the slightest provocation and prowls round the camp at all times, appearing here, there and everywhere.

  I have established cordial relations with him, but wouldn’t like to test them. He loves bullshit and we bow and salute each other half a dozen times when he comes in. He loves to be thought important and it doesn’t hurt to play up to him, if the camp benefits by it.

  Almost as if he knows that he is within sight of being freed, Charles reflects on how he has survived. Without doubt, Charles made a conscious decision to adopt a goal that would not only be a record of his imprisonment but, more importantly, keep him in contact, if only within himself, with his young wife. It is a fact that survival, under long-term stressful conditions, is related to adopting a moral initiative, setting a target to aim for, keeping the mind stimulated, adapting to the reality of camp life and keeping a sense of self-pride. Charles chose to follow all these criteria, even to the point of daily shaving and grooming himself.

  Letter 170 Ubon July’4.5

  My Dearest Girl,

  Nearly 3½ years of captivity!! We cannot understand how we have survived it. I think the only explanation is that those of us who still survive, and I believe 20,000 Europeans as well as countless Tamils, have died on the Thai-Burma railway alone, have to thank the possession of some motive positive, some reason to exist, some power to carry on, that others haven’t got.

  I am exceptionally fortunate. My body has stood up to the ill winds of the last three years with great success. I have had dengue once, malaria three times, three months of acute diarrhoea and that awful deficiency disease which caused all those sores and affected my legs and eyes. These illnesses are nothing compared to what many have had. Nothing at all. Absolutely nothing. You would realise that if you could see the sights I have seen. For my bodily strength, I can only thank my parents.

  But besides physical fitness, there must be a will to carry on. Thousands of officers, in excellent health, have spent their time on their backs. The evergreen joke is to refer to operations taking place in hospital. Upon enquiry, one hears that the operation are to remove bamboo from officer’s backs where they have become embedded.

  You know what I am going to say now. I am going to tell you that you are the reason I am still alive, still taking part in administration, still shaving, still cleaning my nails, still folding my much-patched clothes. I am coming back to you not much the worse for wear. I’d even brush my hair, if I had any to brush.

  Books have played a great part in my life as a POW. Not Red Cross books, of course – we didn’t get those – but books, which were in the possession of men when they became prisoners. I didn’t have one until Bukit Timah. This meant that one did not read, because all changes were swops.

  I then saw a WO, with whom I was living, tearing up a book for lavatory purposes. I got him to let me have it and changed the remains for a dilapidated ‘Reader’s Digest’. By the time I moved to Thailand, I had a full size volume called ‘B.U.N.C’. At Changkai, I got an omnibus volume of the Rodney Stone stories (Conan Doyle). This I then split into Two volumes. At Nong Pladuk, at one time, I had ‘My Mystery Ships’ and ‘The Big Blockade’. One of these I changed for a volume of six Reader’s Digests. Again, this I split into three volumes of two books each and had them bound. So for nearly a year, I have never been without reading matter for any lengthy period.

  This has made a great deal of difference to me.

  I wish the Red Cross could send books to us. I should welcome books on specific subjects. We simply cannot study anything.

  Letter 172 Ubon July’45

  My Dear,

  For the first three years of captivity, the only clothing I have bad from either the IJA or the Red Cross has been a ballbag from the Japs. Excuse the bluntness, but if I called it a ‘Jap-happy’, you wouldn’t understand…. it’s merely a plain piece of black cloth with tying strings at one end; one places it between the legs and threads the longer tape through the end in front, then tie both tapes.

  The Japs wear these as pants – hence ‘Jap-happy’. Our people are now forced to wear them without shorts – they haven’t any.

  Hardly a pleasant sight for a modest, young Thai maiden as the working parties go out!! I’D LOVE TO SEE YOU IN ONE …

  My Darling,

  This is about pets The first pet which appeared in my POW life was a bull terrier bitch, named Peggy. I first saw her on Singapore Island and later met her at Tamarkan, where she was looked after by the Gordons and had two puppies – Speedo and Resto. She accompanied the troops right up country, came down and was bayoneted by a Nip at Nong Pladuk. She was saved and nursed back to health by a POW, came east with us to Ubon and, some weeks ago, delighted everyone one by having sexual intercourse with a boyfriend in the middle of the parade ground during Roll Call. The result is eight delightful puppies, who are now toddling round. She really is a grand dog who has stuck with the troops right through and hates the Nips.

  At the Canteen at Nong Pladuk, we had Nigger – an all black female cat. She had the broken stump tail, like all cats in this part of the world. She was a wonderful mother and seemed to enjoy producing family after family. When we last saw her, we bad got her as far as Bangkok en route to Ubon. She was again in an interesting condition and went off to look for a quiet corner to drop ‘em. We couldn’t follow – she went her own way. She had some fine kittens – especially Itchi – who helped us pass the time away.

  Shortly before we left Nong Pladuk, a Nip came across with a large male, uncastrated monkey. It had been made savage by the teasing of the Nips (they are as bad with animals as they are with POWs), and male monkeys are notoriously bad if not ‘doctored’. He wanted to leave it with us as he was going away. The monkey was a swine. We have to feed it, but it
preferred small lumps of human flesh. It got me alright – in the wrist. I soon got rid of that fellow.

  At Ubon, there were two monkeys at large, both tame and castrated. They were merely a nuisance, but hardly deserved the death one of them got at the hands of the Koreans. The other was smuggled out of the camp to safety.

  The mynah bird is like a starling. It can learn to talk better than a parrot and there were two tame ones at Nong Pladuk. Here, there is one of a different variety, with a bright yellow hood round its neck. A Nip killed one at Nong Pladuk.

  Chicks seem to be the most popular pets here. We have one named Nelson – he had only one eye. His special like is dust-baths. He will lay down and thoroughly enjoy dust being thrown over him.

  One of the Nip Sgt. Majors has a pet squirrel– or rather a tree rat. I should like one myself. One or two people had parakeets at Tamarkan.

  The tensions of a long confinement with men with whom Charles had nothing in common were released in verse form, which combined to be both outspoken and funny. There was a coolness between the Territorials and the old sweats of the Regular army and Charles made little secret of his contempt for a certain type of soldier.

  Letter 173 Ubon July’45

  My Darling,

  The part played by the regular soldier during our period inside the wire has not been a very glorious one. Querulous, critical, undisciplined and a fear of the Nip has marked him out as a person whom one can’t rely on.

  This poem – based on Kipling’s ‘If’ – rather hits the mark.

  If you’re tattooed on breast and back

  With serpents or the Union Jack,

  If your whole world lies in the brick

  Of Aldershot or Catterick,

  If you have not guts to live

  Your own life – are content to give

  Years of grumbling service to

  A vast machine that thinks for you.

  If you can bold to what you’ve got

  And let the other fellow rot.

  If you can double in the queue

  When other folk are hungry, too.

  If you have learned the way to shirk

  And swing on mates the dirty work

  If you’re loud mouthed and love to boast

  While others stand but at their post.

  If every second word you say

  Begins with F and ends with K.

  If you can say the obvious things

  As though you had the wit of Kings.

  If you only care for things you know,

  And keep the conversation low,

  And brag of brothels and whores

  On drunken brawls on foreign shores

  If every woman that you spy

  You measure with a lustful eye

  And only shy at raddled legs

  Toothless and scratching through their negs

  If everything that wears a skirt

  Is fitting subject for your dirt

  If you would up and short your wife,

  Because she led your kind of life

  If your feelings quickly fray

  When discomfort comes your way.

  If you know best and won’t be told

  Just because your number’s old.

  If your only repartee

  Is ‘Get some service in, like me’

  If you despise civilians who

  Have learned your job as well as you

  And do it in about as long

  As you would take to learn this song

  Then there’s no doubt that what you are

  YOU’RE JUST ANOTHER REGULAR.

  The pressing subject of correspondence was once again aired.

  My Darling,

  How unsatisfactory these 25 word post cards are! It is just like a starving man having a lump of bread put in his mouth and just as rapidly withdrawn.

  I have had several from you and sent you back one – at the beginning of this year. My chief trouble is to know where to send it. We hear alarming reports about V1 & V2 from the Japs. If things are so bad, does it mean that Greenway Gardens and Parsonage Lane are no more? Are you still in Liverpool? The safest address, I suppose, is York, but the Windbys may have moved and the present occupants not know you.

  Meanwhile, let me thank you for your letters – and especially the full length ones you were able to send before the 25 word limit was imposed. They are glorious in their sincerity, their feelings and their thoughts; they have reached my heart – the destination that you intended. Lift up your eyes and you will quite clearly see that through the mists of the present, the sun of the future must surely shine!

  I shall always remember these letters: I shall always save them. I shall always love you.

  Chapter 12

  Liberation

  Letter 176 Ubon, Thailand July’45

  My Dearest,

  The working parties are bringing in very insistent rumours that the war is over. The Thais, however, who shout messages from behind bushes etc., speak very bad English and have no idea of tenses. ‘War finish’, may easily mean that the ‘war will finish shortly’. The IJA, however, have been saying, ‘War finish squashi’, too.

  There was something funny going on. At the aerodromes, men were now digging holes and trenches across the new runways they had just made. There was now a sense of anticipation in the air. Rumours were rife about the war being over, but camp life still went on the same, with the Japanese showing no signs of relaxing their attitude towards the prisoners. By August, however, it had become obvious that something was about to happen. Even with the real prospect of being freed, Charles recorded his misgivings about what sudden freedom could bring to the camp.

  Letter 180 Ubon August’45

  My Beloved, we have often talked about what would happen at the end of the war. At one time our few pessimists wondered what would happen if the Nips won. I know … we should never have gone home, but should have lived out our days as a slave gang.

  It was what would happen after the only possible result that really entertained our minds then – and now. I say then, because it was at Changi that we last talked about it. I say now, because all these rumours point to one thing – the approaching end of the war. Even the Nip MO – a socialist – is reported to have said that it will be only a little while longer.

  Shall we be told by the Nips? Will the Japanese behave properly or, in a fit of spite, attack us? How will our people find us? If the Nips cease to feed us, will the Thais (also technically at war with us) feed us or give us credit to buy food?

  If they throw open the gates, a majority of men will be both drunk and have VD by the time our people find us. They have been held in too long to listen to reason and are too near the whores and sake shops of Ubon. Very worrying, you must admit.

  The issue of clothing also gave a hint that something was about to happen. I have received a pair of Thai-made shorts from the Nips. This now makes two articles in 3½ years, and none from the Red Cross. I was extraordinarily fortunate in buying a towel t’other day. A towel is a very great luxury, you know. For handkerchiefs, I have found the bottom of a mosquito net very satisfactory. I still have a pair of socks, although I don’t use them. It would be nice to get some proper clothing again. I still have the little leather stamp wallet which you sent me from Brighton and – even more valuable – the white ‘size ring’ which you sent me when I was buying your wedding ring. Don’t laugh, I am incurably sentimental where you are concerned.

  The fever of anticipation finally broke on 15 August, but not before the captors made plans to celebrate the anniversary of the Fall of Singapore at the expense of the prisoners.

  Letter 181 Ubon August 1945

  My Dearest,

  The Japanese are holding a big celebration on the 15th – the 3½ year anniversary of the Lall of Singapore and the 3rd anniversary of the beginning of POW administration We are to ‘celebrate’ with a Sports Day. I know these Sports Days. Everything is arranged beforehand, but on the actual field itself,
the Nips suddenly take charge, cancel half the events, use the equipment themselves and finish by getting drunk.

  The Nips are also putting on a Concert in their own quarters, For this purpose, they are using a lot of the large quantity of Red Cross clothing they keep for themselves. I know one Sodjo is having a robe made from Red Cross towels, while dozens of blankets have been sewn together for backcloths. Both these articles are badly needed in the Camp. All Nips on the POW staff are now wearing shorts – plainly marked “Made in South Africa”!

  Incidentally, I hear that at the Nip Air Force workshops yesterday, the Nips were busily destroying Red Cross clothing and boots, which they got from this camp. The Nip Navy, who were on Setutai aerodrome, have gone off in a hurry.

  Letter 183 Night of Aug 15 1945

  I have every reason to believe that the war is over!

  I saw the Nips on parade this evening and later saw a friendly Korean come into Camp under cover of the Cookhouse. He said the war was over and kept on talking about some bomb, which we are using on Japan. I do know that the Nips cancelled the Sports Day today and would give no reason, except that they were in mourning.

  I cannot sleep tonight. Incidentally, there are no guards coming round. There are normal working parties tomorrow. The men do not, of course, even consider the war over – they have heard this many times before. Some outside parties are coming back.

  Putting all these things together, and having seen the Korean informer myself, I really think that it is time this time. Incidentally, as I write this, I can hear the Nips driving lorries out of the Camp. There is much movement of transport on the road, too.

  Oh God – I hope it’s true!!

  The following day was momentous for Charles and his long-suffering comrades.

  Letter 184 Saturday 18 August 1945

  My Darling,