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

  The news from Singapore was bad. The Japanese Army had pushed rapidly down the Malay peninsular and were threatening Singapore itself. Indeed, when the Mount Vernon approached, it was during a lull from the incessant air raids that had become a daily feature. Heavy black storm clouds obscured the island from the Japanese bombers, so the Mount Vernon and the rest of the convoy managed to dock unscathed at the Naval Dock Yard. On 13 January 1942, after nearly three months at sea, Charles and his comrades disembarked to the welcome of a drenching tropical storm. A miserable night was spent at their appointed camp at Nee Soon, while Colonel Toosey received instructions as to their role. The 135th was an artillery unit without guns or towing vehicles, for these were following with the rest of the 18th Division via Bombay. Toosey showed his stubborn nature when he refused to accept the Ordnance Department’s dilatoriness in their handling of his request for 25-pounders. Persistent and hectoring visits wore down the resolve of the khaki ‘jobsworths’, and Toosey managed to obtain the regiment’s full quota of guns. Towing vehicles, however, were in short supply, so they had to use whatever was available, including municipal dustcarts.

  At this juncture, the mixed British/Indian/Australian army was trying to stem the Japanese advance into the southern Malay province of Johore; the final bulwark between Singapore island and the enemy. The whole Malayan debacle had been a catalogue of poor leadership and confusion. Barely trained Australian recruits were rushed up country and thrown into the front line. Similarly inexperienced Indian forces were no match for the crack Japanese regiments. Ill-sited airfields for nonexistent aircraft and a lack of naval craft left the badly trained army without cover and it was to their credit that the soldiers lasted as long as they did. The British commander, Lieutenant General A.E. Percival and his Australian counterpart, Major General H. Gordon-Bennett, did not always work in concert, which later led to many recriminations. Although the mixed British forces outnumbered the invading army, they lacked cohesion, determination and experience. Add to this the total Japanese domination of the skies and defeat became almost inevitable.

  As soon as they were organized, the 135th was sent across the causeway linking Singapore to Johore to support the 28th Indian Division about fifty miles up the west coast. When they arrived, they found that it was a lost cause, for the Japanese were pouring through great gaps in the ill-prepared defensive positions and keeping the British on the backfoot. It was during this period of the fighting that the 135th suffered its first casualties. By the 26th, it was decided to make a phased withdrawal to Singapore.

  Charles and his comrades were involved in five days’ of heavy rearguard action in support of the Gurkhas. Toosey would site his guns on the edge of forest clearings and as the Japanese appeared into the open from the north, they would inflict heavy losses, before pulling back to the next clearing and repeating the same tactic. Although it slowed the enemy, they never lost their forward momentum and it was clear that Johore could not be held. Like the last inch of sand leaving an hourglass, a rapid evacuation found most of the soldiers and thousands of civilians had crossed back over the narrow causeway onto Singapore island by the 31st. Once the Argyll rearguard were safely across, a naval demolition party then detonated a large charge which blew away a long section of the 1,100 yard long causeway. Any hopes that this would deter the Japanese were soon dashed.

  Charles and his companions returned to their position at Nee Soon and were soon dug in to the right of the causeway and exchanging fire with the Japanese across the Johore Straits. This came to a crescendo on 5 February, when the Japanese put down a massive bombardment, to which the well-concealed 135th was able to answer with some effect. Further west of the causeway, the heavy barrage had caused some weakened Australian units to pull back, which allowed the Japanese to land. The 135th was ordered to fall back on a reserve position during which time the gap in the causeway had been bridged and the enemy began to cross. A successful counter-attack on Hill 95, overlooking the causeway was made by the 8 Indian Infantry Brigade supported by the guns of the 135th. A night withdrawal by the infantry left some of the 135th guns in danger of being surrounded and it took some heavy fighting to bring them to safety.

  Charles managed to write a postcard to Louise in which he matter-of-factly describes his recent experiences. After telling her of his promotion to Battery Sergeant Major (Warrant Officer Second Class), he wrote;

  I have sent you a cable telling you that I am safe from the recent ‘Dunkirk’ from the mainland in which I took part. I hope you have it and that you didn’t worry too much during the news of the fighting … I am perfectly well except for mosquito bites and sore legs, the result of going into action in a pineapple plantation!

  What a country this is!! Pineapples growing like weeds, rubber trees everywhere, Simply enormous butterflies, ants an inch long, bananas all over the place (but not ripe at this moment) and every type and variety of wriggling and creeping creepy crawlies all of which share one’s mosquito net at nightime.

  We’re just going to bang off a few rounds and put some yellow gents where they belong. So, cherrio!! All my love.

  Louise did not receive this card for another four months and it was to be the last uncensored correspondence she had from Charles for three and a half years.

  With the Japanese squeezing the British into a last enclave around Singapore City, it was only a matter of time before the defenders would be forced to capitulate. During these final hours of confusion, ten members of the regiment’s 499 Battery were cut off and captured. Held to ransom, the Japanese demanded that the British should surrender within twenty-four hours or the prisoners would be killed. The written demand was delivered to the Royal Artillery’s Divisional Command HQ and from then passed onto higher authority, never to be heard of again. When twenty-four hours had expired, the unfortunate hostages were tied to trees and shot or bayoneted. Miraculously, two managed to survive and make their escape back to their lines and report this dreadful atrocity.

  Sunday, 15 February began with the 135th firing in support of the 8 Indian Brigade. Calls to replenish the dwindling supplies of ammunition were not answered until a message came that an armistice had been called and all guns and equipment should be destroyed. For the second time in two years, Charles found himself wrecking his regiment’s precious weapons. Toosey then called his men together and pulled them back so they would go into captivity as a unit. Singapore had fallen in what Winston Churchill described as, ’the worst disaster and capitulation in British history’. There were many who felt Churchill was at fault for describing Singapore as a fortress when, in fact, it was a naval base on an unfortified island with a huge civilian population.

  There was a delay of two days before the regiment actually had contact with their victors. When they did appear, Charles was incredulous that such small men, who were dwarfed by their obsolete looking rifles and fixed bayonets, should have overwhelmed a numerically superior and well-equipped army. The initial behaviour towards their captives was generally correct and in some instances, affable, which was in marked contrast to the appalling orgy of killing of the Chinese population.

  The British had capitulated a mere seventy days after the Japanese had invaded Malaya. This had landed the victors with the problem of what to do with the 130,000 men they had captured; something for which they had not prepared. The nearest appropriate area from the city was the barrack complex at Changi, fifteen miles up the east coast of the island. Charles wrote his second letter after he arrived in Changi;

  Feb.’42

  My Dearest,

  Whenever POWs gather together after the war – if the war ever ends, I am sure that someone will say; ‘D’ you remember the walk to Changi?’

  It was our first taste of Japanese unpleasantness. On the 17th at about 1 pm, we suddenly had orders to move to Changi in the North East of the Island – about 20 miles from Singapore Town. No transport, of course. Carrying all our kit, we started off from our last position soon becoming one unit in a vast
procession of tired figures trudging through the tropical midday heat. Only a month off of the sea, almost entirely unclimatised, the 18th Div troops felt worse than most people. We trudged past shelled villages – Payer Libes we had ourselves shelled and turned to ashes, past bodies still laying in the roads, a defeated army in the hands of an Eastern Nation. I saw a tiny detachment of elderly RAPC (Royal Army Pay Corps) personnel. The heat – I can hardly describe it!! I have never longed as much for the milk of the green coconuts above our heads as I did then.

  We arrived at Changi – Roberts Barracks – before dusk. The whole of the white troops in Singapore were concentrated here. The confusion and crowding were indescribable. The buildings had been heavily bombed and sanitation and a water supply were non-existent. The smell of the dead was everywhere. Men were told to walk to the swamps by the sea for latrine purposes, but you know what tired men are like. Before morning, excreta was everywhere. I slept on a couple of boxes. No food has been supplied by the Japanese, who seem to regard us as rather strange animals. Fortunately, we have ourselves saved rations and are now eeking them out but one feels famished.

  Charles, in common with a few other prisoners, decided to keep a record of his experiences. Rather than just write a diary, he used the medium of letter writing to keep alive his connection with his new bride, Louise. He explained this in his first letter;

  Changi, Roberts Barracks, Feb.’42

  My Dear Wife,

  I am a Prisoner of War.

  On the 15th of this month, the ‘invincible’ city of Singapore fell after the Japanese had pounded the island for a week and shelled and bombed the city from all sides for three days. Of the battle I shall say nothing here: sufficient is it to say that I have escaped unwounded and am now a ‘non-effective!’

  It seems incredible that I shall be cut off from you for months – even years at the worst, God speed the Red Cross organisation – if the Japs recognise such a body, in its efforts to alleviate our lot,

  I sat down to write this letter with a vague idea in my head – an idea that has now crystallised into a resolve that whatever happens, I am not going to he cut off from you. We are going to be linked together through the medium of pen and ink and pencil and paper as we always have been; we are going to continue to put our thoughts on paper. If we cannot answer each other’s letters we can at least store up incidents and ideas which can be conveyed to each other in the misty future.

  So long as I am able, I am going to write you at least one letter each week. The continuity of our correspondence will go on and on. One day you will read these letters … And know without doubt that you are with me … now and always.

  Chapter 5

  ‘Phoney’ Captivity

  A strange period of limbo followed, with the prisoners unguarded and left to organize themselves. Changi had been built to house a large peacetime army and consisted of many buildings, parade grounds and playing fields and was described as the finest British Army overseas establishment. For those who were held here, it seemed like the ideal form of captivity. The Japanese posted guards on the roads between the sprawling camps that made up the whole Changi Camp and some prisoners would not see a sign of their captors for days. This sense of unreality was further emphasized when the Japanese ordered their prisoners to erect a barbed wire perimeter fence to prevent escape, although this was not really an option. Imprisoned on an island surrounded for hundreds of miles by enemy-held territory and unable to blend in with the native population, it was little wonder that so few made the attempt.

  Nearby this strange prisoner of war camp was the island’s grim main prison, which later gained infamy as a squalid and overcrowded hell-hole, in which 5,000 men were crammed into an area designed for 600. It was this that gave Changi its later notoriety.

  For the time being, the British had to fend for themselves, even to the extent of finding food and setting up their own hospital. Charles wrote his third letter;

  Feb.’42

  My Dearest,

  I am sitting in a small room on the top floor of a barrack block in Changi. Outside I can see the tops of palm trees and, in the distance, the blue waters of the Straits of Johore … I have just seen powerful units of the Japanese fleet sail majestically up the channel to the Naval Base, at which we berthed so little time ago. A dispiriting sight …

  Order has been restored from the chaos here. The 135 has taken over a whole block, the 499 Bty on the ground floor, the 344 on the second and ourselves, the 336, on the top. I have a room with the other two 336 Warrant Officers. We have found bedboards, so are not on the concrete.

  No food from the Japanese yet. We saw Japanese soldiers after the Capitulation and saw many units including tanks and artillery on our way to Changi. There seems to be no POW administration whatsoever. We have not been counted, examined or searched. If this state of affairs existed in Europe, half of us could have escaped by now. Here we are in the midst of a native population. A European is picked up from the streets as easily as a negro in the Strand. The Japanese are said to be shooting hundreds of Chinese but so far we have escaped a like punishment for destroying our guns in contravention to orders. Maybe in the confusion of the Capitulation we shall get away with it.

  We have been bathing in the sea but less and less men go as more and more display the signs of weakness. Two fainted on my parade this morning. The Army Act has been re-established. We are enforcing normal discipline and are attempting social activities – lectures, debates etc, to combat antipathy. What we want is food. We are very hungry.

  Charles describes a typical daily menu;

  Feb.24 Menu

  Breakfast 1 Teaspoon Sardine, 2 biscuits, 1 pint tea

  Lunch 1 pint tea

  Evening Dessert spoon stew, 3 biscuits, 1 pint tea

  Charles refers to the Army Act being re-established. The senior officers felt this to be the only way to keep discipline and to prevent anarchy breaking out. Preservation of the officer – other ranks status quo led to much resentment, especially amongst the Australian prisoners, who felt the British command had forfeited any right to lofty status. Although some of the duties set by the officers were just time-filling, a proper command structure ensured that conditions in the camp generally improved. This self-regulation also had the added bonus of keeping the Japanese presence to a minimum, although this neglect was most keenly felt in the absence of any regular food supplies.

  Whatever the motives of the British senior officers, their behaviour caused a huge amount of resentment amongst the men, who felt that sharing imprisonment should break down the old class system. Many officers showed arrogance and indifference by expecting preferential treatment and food. They even meted out punishments to those soldiers who contravened some petty breach of army discipline. One such punishment meant the confinement of several other ranks in a filthy wooden shed and having their already inadequate rations cut to one daily meal. The Australians were outraged, tore down the building, released the prisoners and carted off the timber for firewood.

  Very soon, the starvation rations and insanitary conditions led to an inevitable increase in the numbers of sick;

  My Dear,

  Dysentry (sic) has arrived. The chaotic early conditions, the effects of the tropical sun upon the aftermath of war, the millions of flies, the weakened conditions of men, all have caused or helped to cause the rapid spread of disease. Men are going down with dysentry (sic) in large numbers. We are doing all that is possible with special latrines etc. I have put an all night piquet on the latrines in case men faint.

  The arrival of Nippon ‘food’ – some sacks of rice – has caused everyone’s stomachs to go out of order. At last we have the bulk – typical menu;

  Breakfast:- Boiled rice, spoon of milk, tea

  Tiffin:- Boiled rice, tinned herring mixed together

  Evening:- Boiled rice and a little stew

  The change to Asiatic food has caused acute internal trouble. I myself am down with acute diarrhoea. I can hardly
stand. Incidentally, the tropical sores with which my legs were covered at the end of the campaign have now healed up through the action of the sea water.

  Officers are not allowed to wear badges of mark-just one pip on the left breast pocket. They are furious.

  Some of our ‘missing’ and wounded have turned up. Binoculars, compasses have had to be handed in.

  So many men are now sick that the whole of Roberts Barracks is to be turned into a hospital. We are to camp out on sandy ground near Changi Swamps. There is no shelter. I am now better. Your photos are a great help.

  Charles kept thirteen snaps during his incarceration; all with a Japanese approval stamp on the reverse. By the time he was released, some were almost invisible with damp and wear. His army paybook was similarly stamped and gives a remarkable amount of information during his time as a POW. It lists all twenty-two protective inoculations and three vaccinations he had during captivity, including those administered by Japanese medical officers.

  In tents, Changi. March ’42

  My Dear

  We are living in tents on sandy ground near Changi Swamps. We are crowded but fairly comfortable. Things are looking up. To get away from the depressive atmosphere of the damaged barracks is a good thing. We have laid the tents out in normal lines and following a program of parades, lectures etc. Food is better but the vital vitamin B1 is sadly missing. Eat your vegetables – beri-beri is a dreadful disease!!