Four of the men came into the hut with their dhas drawn. Two of them made me go into a corner and the other two took Lacey out. When these two returned they tied my hands in front of me and led me outside. Lacey was sitting in a bamboo litter, which four villagers hoisted onto their shoulder. The cord of my hands was attached to the litter by a long rope which allowed me space to walk behind.
As we set off down the hill I turned and saw a number of people watching us go. Among them was Mrs Kin-Maung, Nita, her young brother and Miss McRae. With the slackened rope I was able to turn to them, sweep my hat and bow as if I was ending a Shakespeare play. Then the rope tightened, and I was forced to walk on.
We had been walking for about two hours when ‘boss-eyed’ called a halt. He went to the side of the track and looked down. I went forward as far as the rope would allow and looked down also. There was the skeleton of a man, lying flat on his back. The vultures had picked the body clean. My mind went back to the day I had seen the birds circling in the sky. This then must have been the unfortunate victim. ‘Boss-eyed’ saw me looking and grinned. A pith hat was near the head. I tried to get my foot to it. I wanted to see if there was a name inside, but the rope was not long enough, so I pulled a little. ‘Boss-eyed’ swore, lifted his foot and booted the skull away from the rest of the bones, sending it into the undergrowth. He then roared with laughter. I said with a scowl, ‘Your head will roll like that when the British return.’ The laugh vanished from his face and he came towards me with his dha. He then changed his mind and waved the party to go on.
It was in the afternoon that we arrived on the plains. The carriers and escort together with ‘boss-eyed’ all carried food and water. Lacey and I had neither. I asked for water but ‘boss-eyed’ shook his head and grinned. It was obvious that as long as he handed us over alive he did not give a damn.
As the afternoon wore on and dusk began to fall we entered a small village. I reckoned that we had covered about twenty miles. We stayed at the village for the night. Lacey and I were put into a large hut. Our hands and feet were bound. We could hardly move the way we were trussed up. Lacey was given a little water and food, I suppose to keep him alive for the rest of the journey.
As for me, the men just jeered when I asked for refreshments. I suppose it was because I had fought them and made them look fools in Sadon.
At dawn, still trussed up, we were put onto a bullock cart. ‘Boss-eyed’ sat up front with the driver while two of the others sat one on each side of Lacey and me. The rest of the gang were sent away. The track that we took was quite flat and went in a southwesterly direction through some very thick jungle. The bullocks were sent at a trot and kept up the same pace all morning.
In the afternoon ‘Boss-eyed’ ordered the drivers to stop for him and his two men to stretch their legs. We were dragged from the cart and laid at the side of the track, and ‘boss-eyed’ ordered the driver to turn the cart around and go back to their village. When the cart was out of sight, ‘boss-eyed’ and his two men stood over us with drawn dhas. A cold sweat broke out of me as they all moved closer to us. They looked down as we lay helpless on the grass at the side of the track.
The whole of my body began to quake as I waited in fear and bewilderment for what they intended to do to us.
The expression on my face and the licking of my parched lips must have given away my feelings. ‘Boss-eyed’, being the nearest, spread his arms wide and stopped the other two. I thought that he was going to do the job himself. With all my remaining strength I tried to get loose from the cords that bound me. I wriggled and rolled, trying to loosen the bonds, but exhausted I lay still, looking up at his grinning face. The other two men laughed and chatted between themselves at my effort to get free.
‘Boss-eyed’ stepped forward and raised his dha above his head. I closed my eyes and waited for the blow that would take me from this world, hoping that it would be quick. Instead I felt a saw-like cut at the cords that bound my hands. I kept my eyes shut. The cord around my feet was cut as well. I opened my eyes and saw ‘boss-eyed’ bending over Lacey and cutting his bonds.
I sat up completely bewildered by this sudden turn of events. ‘Boss-eyed’, standing back, shouted ‘Up! Up!’ and waved his dha menacingly. I got to my feet and helped Lacey up. ‘Boss-eyed’ then pointed along the track and ordered us to march. I soon realised what was happening. The Japanese were not too far away, and ‘Boss-eyed’ wanted it to look as if there had only been three of them to bring in the two of us.
Lacey was leaning heavily on me so that I was almost carrying him, and with three men walking behind with their dhas drawn I had very little chance of making a run for it.
After struggling along for about a mile we came in sight of a small river. The track led onto a bridge, and on the bridge was the enemy. The Japanese sentry saw us, turned and waved and shouted to others beyond the bridge.
As we got near the bridge, others joined the sentry. All were grinning and pointing at us. Some were slapping their sides and laughing as though they were watching something very comical being acted out for them. As we stepped onto the bridge I looked neither left nor right. As we passed the Japanese some spat at us, others kicked at our legs and some slapped our faces, but with Lacey hanging on tight we kept going across the bridge. More Japanese were lined up on both sides of the road after the bridge.
We were halted opposite a large red brick building, like a kind of barracks. Here we were made to stand. After a while a small Japanese officer complete with sword and black riding-boots came out. As he came near, I drew myself up and, as smart as I could be, gave him a salute. He stopped still and returned my salute, holding the handle of his sword with his left hand. Then he seemed to be inspecting us. The Japanese officer half stopped in front of Lacey, with his right hand pointed at his swollen legs. I stepped forward and bent slightly to look where he had pointed. The next instant I was reeling from a blow from his left hand which sent me sideways against Lacey, knocking him to the ground. At this, all those watching gave a resounding cheer and clapped.
The officer then issued a quick order, and one of the onlookers fetched rope and some thin twine. Behind us was a tin hut. We were bundled into it. They tied Lacey to a pole in the middle of the hut while they made me hold out my hands and tied my thumbs together with the twine. One of them stood on a stool and made me reach up. They then secured me to a beam in the roof with my feet barely touching the ground. At first I groaned in agony, at which they pulled on the twine more, so I tried to bite back the agonising pain by gritting my teeth to stop any sound coming from my mouth. I bit on my tongue. I did anything that would stop me causing them any more enjoyment.
They were satisfied that the binding was tight, but it was not enough for them that I hung there in agony. The little yellow bastards had to line up to either slap my face, spit on me or kick me. I could stand the slaps, spits and kicks, but as each one touched me it sent me either spinning around or swaying from side to side supported only by my thumbs, which sent stabs of pain shooting through my whole body.
Between the winces I opened my eyes and saw two European girls standing in the doorway. They seemed to be twins, for they were very much alike and wore identical pink flowered thin dresses. I assumed they were British who had failed to get out of Burma. The girls must have been brought to witness what happened to any British soldiers taken by the Japanese. On seeing me hanging by my thumbs they shrieked in horror and covered their eyes, but were forced to stand and watch as I hung there.
All went quiet after a time. Everyone left except for four Japanese with rifles. I assumed that this was the guard.
Whether I had stretched or the string had eased under the strain, I found that after a while I could almost get the soles of my boots onto the ground. For how long I was left hanging I cannot say, but the whole of my time was occupied in trying to take the strain from my thumbs. Now and again I looked at the four Japanese as they sat at a table at the end of the hut, hoping that they might have a little pity on me and cut me down. Darkness was beginning to fall, and one of the Japanese lit an oil lamp.
I was reaching up on my toes to ease the pain in my thumbs when I overbalanced and spun around and gave out an uncontrollable cry of pain. I regained my footing quickly and kept quite still in an attempt to regain my breath. I closed my eyes and tried to shut out the pain that I felt. When I opened my eyes one of the guards was standing before me. He issued an order to one of the others who got a stool and cut me down. I immediately fell to the floor. I lay at the feet of the man who had given the order to cut the string from my thumbs. I looked up and said, ‘Thank you,’ to which he replied in broken English, ‘Uppu, Uppu!’ motioning me to my feet without any sign of pity. I then had to stand with my back to the post that Lacey was tied to. The post went right through the corrugated roof. I was tied facing the table where the guards sat. Soon the guards’ food was brought to them. The smell alone was enough to drive me mad for it was now two whole days since I had eaten or had any drink of any sort. The guards ate their rice mixed with vegetables from their mess tins. This they swilled down with hot tea.
One of the guards, who wore horn-rimmed spectacles, came and stood in front of me. He too spoke in broken English. ‘You like eat?’ he asked.
I hesitated at first, then nodded and added a weak ‘Yes.’
‘You like, also, drink tea?’ he asked.
Once again I nodded and said a careful ‘Yes.’
‘All Japanese soldier finis, I give you,’ he said, smiling.
‘Thank you very much,’ I said, returning the smile.
The Japanese walked back to the table and said something to the others, and getting all the leftover rice into one mess tin he mixed tea with it and stirred it altogether. He then came to me and dashed the whole soggy mess into my face, saying, ‘Inglis want! Inglis got!’
The Japanese who had given the order for me to be cut down must have been in charge, for he jumped up from the table and let go with a tirade at the man for what he had done.
Once more all went quiet in the hut. I was trying to get my tongue to some of the rice that had stuck to my face and beard, but the salt in the rice only caused my thirst to be more severe and greater.
Then in the distance I heard a rumble. The guards heard it too. Was it bombs? I listened again, straining my ears. Another rumble. Was it gunfire? Or was it just rolls of thunder? There was another rumble, a little closer. I wanted so much for it to be gunfire. I was praying that it was gunfire, but my hopes were dashed in the next instant as I heard the first pitter-patter of heavy raindrops falling on the steel roof above my head. Slowly the pitter-patter increased in volume until the rain came down in torrents. I watched at the open doorway as the streams of water cascaded from the roof and ran like a curtain into the drain outside. The rain was also running down the post behind me. Raindrops were falling upon the bush hat that I still had on my head. All this seemed to aggravate the thirst and longing for just a spoonful of the precious liquid which at that moment I would gladly have given my life for.
I twisted my head in every way possible in an attempt to catch just one droplet. I imagined that I could get my head down to my bound hands that by now were saturated. I looked down at my feet and there was a pool forming. I began to get hallucinations that I was knee-deep in a swimming-pool, and I tried to bend my head down so that I could duck my head under the blue-coloured water. It seemed that my tongue was too big for my mouth and that the roughness of my dry parched mouth had now developed spikes which protruded from my dry tongue, making a rasping noise. I closed my eyes but I could see pictures of places I had been where I had swum and bathed at my leisure. I found myself grating out in a voice which I did not recognise as my own. ‘Water! Water! Water!’
I heard a scraping noise from a distance. I opened my eyes and saw the guard commander coming towards me with a small tin. He held it in front of me, level with my mouth. I thought it was a trick and I shot my head forward to grip the tin in my mouth. Instead, I knocked the tin and its contents from his hand. The Japanese cursed me. I tried to say sorry, but could not. The Japanese turned and dragged the tin along the drain to fill it again. This time I waited. He gently poured the contents for me to drink. Once more he went and filled the tin, and I drank the water from the drain as if it was the best wine in the world, which to me it was. I thanked the man who had at least shown some form of humanity.
Lacey suddenly murmured. Looking around I could see that he was on his knees with his head lolling forward. The guard commander pointed to Lacey and shouted to the other guards. They came and looked at my friend, and one of them asked me, ‘Your friend sickah?’
‘Yes, he is very sick.’ I answered.
I turned my head towards Lacey and saw them cut the rope that held him and lay him in a dark corner of the hut. As they returned to the table one of them stopped in front of me and said, ‘Nippon soldier kind to sick English soldier, Nippon not kind to you.’
The rain fell all through the night. I was soaking wet from the drips as they fell through the roof. I dozed off now and then only to awake sharply as my legs gave way beneath me.
Dawn was coming up when a bugle close-by heralded reveille. As the sound of the bugle died away the guard commander came and cut the rope. The first thing that I did was to pick up the rusty tin and put it under the drips near the post and go to Lacey. He had come to, and asked for water.
The Japanese watched my every move. I went to put the tin under the drips again. They shouted and pointed to the faster ones falling from the roof into the drain. I hesitated as I thought that they wanted me to do something that they could hit me for, so I returned to the slow drips, but they insisted that I take the tin to the faster drips by the doorway. There by the faster drips I took the opportunity to wash off the rice and other stuff from my face and beard.
Later, two Japanese officers came into the hut and ordered us to take off all our clothes. I was amazed and so were the Japanese at the sight of Lacey. His stomach was swollen like a pregnant woman and his testicles were the size of a football. His legs were as thick as tree stumps so that you could not make out the kneecaps or calves of his legs. His ankles were completely unsightly and out of all proportion.
One of the Japanese officers was dressed in a white coat and had a stethoscope hanging around his neck. He asked me in perfect English, ‘Why do you not have beriberi?’
‘Beriberi? What is that?’ I asked, puzzled.
The Japanese officer pointed to Lacey’s swelling and said, ‘That is beriberi. But why don’t you have it?’ He asked again.
I was as puzzled as he was and so could not answer him. The Japanese held a quick conference and then told us to get dressed. The Japanese in the white coat, acting as an interpreter, said, ‘We are going to ask you a few questions and we want you to answer truthfully. We shall know if you are lying and we shall not hesitate to have you shot.’
The two officers sat at a table. I stood before them.
‘First, where have you come from?’
‘Sadon.’
‘Is that where you were living?’ was his second question.
‘No,’ I answered.
He repeated everything in Japanese.
‘Where were you living before you went to Sadon?’
‘In the jungle,’ I answered truthfully.
‘You lie! You lie!’ he shouted, and banged the table with his fist. ‘Where did you come from?’ he came back at me quickly, trying to catch me out.
‘We came from Taunggyi,’ I answered. I thought that would give him something to think about, and that whatever I said would make no difference after all this time.
‘From Taunggyi,’ he repeated with a frown and very puzzled look. ‘And how did you get to Sadon from Taunggyi?’ he asked slowly.
‘We walked,’ I answered, laughing inwardly.
‘You walked!’ he shouted, and nearly fell off the stool. After regaining his posture he interpreted to the other officers who looked completely shocked. He turned back to me and asked, ‘Do you want to die?’
‘No, I don’t want to die,’ I answered.
‘Then stop trying to be clever, and tell the truth,’ he said, and scowled at me.
‘But sir, I am telling the truth,’ I said politely.
He looked at my face as I answered him. His hands clenched and unclenched, making his knuckles white. ‘How long have you been hiding in the jungle?’ he stared at my face and asked.
‘What day of what month is it, sir?’ I asked, again politely.
‘You don’t know?’ he shouted in amazement.
‘No sir, I don’t know what day it is today, and I cannot in all honesty answer truthfully how long we have been in the jungle.’
There was a long and slightly heated discussion between the two Japanese officers. The one in the white coat faced me again. ‘It is the twenty-fifth of October,’ he told me.
I was taken aback, for I had no idea that the months had gone by so quickly. ‘Then we have been walking for over six months,’ I told him.
‘Where?’ he came back quickly, trying to catch me out.
‘Between Taunggyi and Sadon,’ I answered casually.
‘Which way did you walk from Taunggyi?’ he asked.
‘We came mostly by jungle paths,’ I replied, trying to dodge the question.
‘But you could not have come through. We have our soldiers everywhere.’ His voice was full of contempt and pompousness.
I did not want to court trouble and tell them that we had passed their troops on more than one occasion, so I kept silent.
The Japanese in white was speaking again. ‘We think that you have been dropped by parachute in the last few days to spy.’ He paused. ‘So we have decided to send you to Myitkyina. There you will be executed.’ His face broadened into a grin. ‘That will be two more Englishmen less in the world,’ he added, and the grin turned into a wide toothy laugh.
I looked back at both men. I do not know if I showed what I was thinking on my face. Had they known my thoughts I would have been killed right then and there without a second’s hesitation.
I found out later from one of the Japanese guards that we were at Washung.
Later in the morning two Japanese armed with rifles came to take us to the river. There we were ushered on board a river steamer and made to sit down on some sacks. I had to half carry Lacey. It took us about half an hour to get across the river and to Myitkyina. As the ferry chugged its way across I thought of our friends who had decided to go across the same river, all those months ago. I hoped that their crossing was better than mine.
When we reached the bank we were marched from the ferry down a long road to a red brick-built house at the corner of two main streets. The house was slightly larger than the others in that area.
We were ordered into a large room with a highly polished table. There were four uniformed Japanese who wore swords and a white armband with red characters. This, I knew from our Chinese instructors, was the mark of the dreaded Kempeitai. We had been told that to fall into the hands of these people was the worst thing that could happen. So, I resigned myself to the worst. I did not give up hope, but certainly feared the worst. I could not help myself as the whole of my body began to shiver. I turned and looked at Lacey, but he was merely trying to stand and it seemed he had no thought for anything else. His face was a complete blank. At that moment I kind of envied him, for he had not realised the danger that we were in.
Our escorts passed all the information on to the four, and as soon as that was done our escorts were most rudely despatched out of the room. Even though I did not understand the language, it seemed that these four were most arrogant even to their own men. So I thought, what mercy are we to expect?
The four Kempeitai officers then turned their attention to us. Thoughts were racing through my head. I told the truth, and they called me a liar. If I lie like the blazes, they can do the same as if I tell the truth and they don’t believe me. What about Lacey? Will they question him first, or will they start with me? Lacey might just say the wrong thing unintentionally and drop me in it, but then so what? They will probably kill us anyway. I’ll lie a bit and I’ll tell the truth where it would not matter.
The four Japanese came towards us. Staring hard, they talked among themselves. The tallest of them stepped in front of me. He took his hand off his hip and pointed his finger at my belly. I kept my eyes on his face. He said, ‘Inglis ka?’ in a questioning voice.
‘Yes,’ I nodded, still watching him.
He then said something in Japanese that I did not understand. I frowned and shook my head to show that I had not understood. I was watching him carefully. I saw the blow coming and got ready to receive it. I stood rigid as his right hand smacked against my left cheek, forcing my head to the right and causing a ringing in my left ear. Quickly his left hand came up and sent my head in the other direction, then again his right and his left, his right and his left. Faster and faster came the blows. I took them, still standing. Harder and faster the blows came. He was using the heel of his hand now. I closed my eyes and clenched my teeth which had now begun to rattle. My temper was boiling over. My fingernails were digging into the palms of my hands as I squeezed my fingers into hard fists. I forced my hands to my sides and said to myself under my breath, I must not lose my temper, I must not lose my temper. I must hold on, I must hold on. I kept repeating this to myself, but I was staggering under the furious blows.
Then there was a crash on my left and the blows stopped. I opened my eyes, which had filled with tears forced up from the restraint of holding back my temper. The other three Japanese were standing over Lacey, who had fallen to the ground. The one who had been hitting me pointed to my friend and asked, ‘Sick ka?’
I nodded and answered, ‘Yes.’
One of the others looked at me and asked, ‘Byoki ka?’
‘Yes,’ I answered. I had learned my first word of Japanese.
One of the Kempeitai went away and returned with two armed men and a length of rope. I was ordered to get Lacey to his feet. Once again our hands were tied and a noose put around both our necks. I was then pushed outside with Lacey dragging on the rope behind, while one of the armed men tugged the rope in front. We were paraded through the streets. Rain had begun to fall. The guards stopped to put on their waterproofs. We were taken to a wooden barracks. The smell of food was torture.
One of the guards went into a bungalow while the other sheltered under the veranda. Our rope was tied to one of the uprights of the veranda. I stepped onto the veranda to get out of the rain and pulled the rope attached to Lacey’s neck. I shouted to him, ‘Come in out of the rain.’ The Japanese guard jumped forward, his rifle at the ‘on guard’. I ignored it and pushed my stomach against the barrel and, with a curse, walked forward. To my utter amazement the Japanese stepped back. His face changed from a snarl to one of fear. He looked both ways to see that no one had seen the incident, and walked back against the wall of the bungalow. Well, I thought, so this is the great conquering Japanese army who are afraid of nothing.
The other guard came out and we were taken further along the road to another bungalow. There our ropes were taken off and we were told to sit on the floor. There was an officer with a sword, which he took off and laid on the desk. He told me to sit on the chair opposite, which was much lower, so that he was looking down at me. Lacey lay on the floor with his eyes closed.
The officer spoke in perfect English. He said, ‘You must answer all the questions I ask you truthfully.’ As he spoke he took the sword from its scabbard and laid it on the table. ‘I shall know whether you are lying or not.’ He watched my face through half-closed lids as he spoke.
He began with me. ‘What are your name, rank and number?’
I gave them without hesitation.
‘Now, what are your friend’s name, rank and number?’ he asked.
I had to turn to Lacey and give him a shove with my foot so that he would answer.
‘Now, what is your unit?’ he glared at me.
‘I’m afraid I cannot answer that, sir.’ I said.
‘What!’ he shouted, ‘and why can’t you answer me that?’
I thought I was pushing my luck. But what could I tell him? I could not say a Commando unit that had attacked the Japanese on the Thai frontier. I had to think fast. ‘Well, sir,’ I began, ‘according to the Geneva convention–’
He banged his fist on the desktop and shouted at the top of his voice. ‘We do not recognise the Geneva League of Nations! So, you will answer my question or die!’ He picked up the sword from the desk and began to twirl it around his head using both of his hands.
At first I thought that he had gone completely mad. I had to gamble on the fact that my friend would not be questioned. I had to make up something quick, for the Japanese was asking again, ‘What is your unit?’
I answered quickly. ‘We did belong to an administration unit,’ I said, praying at the same time.
‘Administration unit? What is that?’ he asked, frowning in disbelief.
I thought, bloody hell, he is never going to believe that in a month of Sundays.
‘Well,’ I stammered slightly, to gain time, ‘it’s a unit that supplies all other units with helpers.’ As I said it, I thought, oh blimey, that’s too daft, why didn’t I think of something else?
‘That is very funny. I have heard of many units in your army, but this is the first time I have heard of that.’ He was looking at me very oddly. ‘What do you mean helpers?’
‘Well, like hospital orderlies and cooks and tent riggers and cleaners,’ I went on in a voice that I did not think would have convinced anyone. I just sat there looking at him with the best poker-face that I could put on, but hoping that he would not ask the same question.
‘Tell me, then, why I have never heard of it?’ he asked, leaning forward and laying the sword down again.
‘Oh,’ I came back readily, ‘it only began the early part of this year.’
‘Oh, I see. That’s something else that I have learned about your army,’ he said smiling. Then he asked casually, ‘And what hospital have you served?’
‘Taunggyi, sir,’ I replied quickly.
‘The military one, I suppose?’ he queried.
‘No, sir, the civil one,’ I answered.
‘Oh, and why is that?’ he asked in wonderment, his eyes widening.
‘Because your planes came over and bombed the town, and there were many civilians killed and injured. So we were ordered to go and help at the civil hospital.’ I said this with a great deal of pleasure and satisfaction. There, I thought, get hold of that.
But a moment later I almost regretted being so cheeky, for he picked up the sword again, got to his feet and stood over me threateningly. ‘You lie! You lie!’ he raved at the top of his voice, almost screaming. I sat there trembling, thinking that I had gone a little too far this time. He raised the sword above his head and swung it in an arc from the right side of his head and stopped it at the side of my neck. I could feel the cold steel as he drew the blade towards him. I felt a slight pain as the sharp blade cut into my flesh. I was staring at the man. Slowly, and to my utter amazement, a smile spread across his face. He put the sword down, dropping his gaze, and said quietly, ‘We do not bomb civilians.’ I remained silent. I thought it to be the best thing to do at that moment.
His next question was easier to answer, and my answer gave him some satisfaction and pleasure. The question was why had we walked and not used transport. I told him that we had been shot up by his planes and we had to abandon our trucks. He asked how we had been captured in Sadon. My answer gave him extra pleasure, and he said, ‘We have our helpers, too.’ He was beginning to be friendlier, but I became more careful with my answers. I thought that any time now he was going to come with some catch questions as he might think that I was off my guard. He even put his sword back into its scabbard.
Then, suddenly, his face changed back to one of hatred, and he asked, ‘Do you know Captain Brown?’
His question was so quick that I was surprised. I repeated his question to give myself a little time. ‘Captain Brown?’ I asked, putting on a frown. ‘Captain Brown?’ I said again as if in deep thought. ‘Oh, yes, I did know a Captain Brown,’ I answered him. ‘But he should be safe in India by now,’ I added with a smile. ‘That is, if it is the same one that I know.’
‘Why? How many Captain Brown are there?’
‘Well, off hand I know two, and both of them were in Burma,’ I replied, thinking, that’s got you confused now, mate. At the same time I was thinking, how did he know about Captain Brown? Perhaps it might be the other Captain Brown, as I had spoken the truth. There were indeed two Captain Browns. The other Captain Brown belonged to an Indian Signals unit in Maymyo, and we had helped him get his car out of a ditch after a dance. To repay us he had taken us back to his place and given us drinks. Now, which one was this Japanese officer asking about?
‘So, you know two Captain Brown?’ he asked, surprised. ‘Why are you laughing at me?’ he glared at me and once more drew his sword.
Oh, blimey, I thought, here we go again, and I thought how nicely we were getting on.
‘Yes, I do know two Captain Brown. It is a very common name.’ I tried to cool him down and added, ‘I have two sisters whose married names are both Brown, as they are married to two different men named Brown.’ My two sisters were indeed married to two brothers named Brown.
‘So, this Captain Brown, your sister’s husband, maybe?’ he was looking very hard at me. His question made me smile widely, which did not please him. He banged the table and shouted, ‘Why are you laughing at me?’
I tried to explain that both my sisters’ husbands were too old to be in the forces.
He stopped me and asked if I knew a Captain Brown.
‘Yes, I did know a Captain Brown, but he was not in our unit.’
‘Oh, that is very funny,’ he said, raising his eyebrows and pointing his fingers at me. ‘Captain Brown also went to Sadon, the same place as you! Did you and your friend plan to meet Captain Brown at Sadon?’
‘No, we did not plan to meet anyone at Sadon.’
I could not understand why he had picked on Captain Brown. I tried to get him away from the subject, and said, ‘We had not planned to go there, but my friend fell sick and I needed help, as you can see.’ I turned and pointed down at the still form of Lacey.
What he said next shook me. ‘And I suppose that it was pure coincidence that we caught you two and Captain Brown at Sadon.’ He watched the uncontrollable change of my face and smiled a cynical smile. I would have smashed my fist into his face if I could.
He is lying, I thought, he’s got to be bloody well lying. He is trying to trick me into saying something. ‘Where is he, then?’ I asked, trying to keep alert to his next question.
The Japanese officer stood up and began to slash the air with the sword, making a swishing sound.
‘Is he here?’ I asked.
He stopped the slashing and said, ‘He was here, but we cut off his head like this.’ He stood feet apart, gripped the handle of the sword, held it high above his head and brought it down to the floor with a great swish. His face showed an awful grin of satisfaction as he obviously could see the imaginary head roll from the imaginary body of the imaginary victim. After the demonstration, he once more placed the sword on the table in front of him and sat down.
Forcing a grin to my face and stroking my neck, I asked, ‘And when do we die?’
At first he looked hard at me through those half-closed slanted eyes, then he slowly said, ‘It will be very soon. We will not keep you waiting.’
Licking my now very dry lips, I thought, oh well, what have I got to lose, I might as well be cheeky. So I said, ‘In our country, it is the custom that we give a condemned person a good meal before execution.’
‘Yes, I am aware of that custom,’ he said sadly, and shook his head, ‘but we think that it is such a waste of food. So, I am sorry.’
The interrogation was over. We were again tied by the neck and marched back to the Kempeitai barracks. There we were made to strip naked. At the sight of Lacey’s swollen parts the Japanese began to laugh and poke them with their bayonets. They showed some disappointment when he did not cry out with pain. We were led into a long hall. In the hall were a number of barred cells. The wooden bars reached from ceiling to floor. One had to get down on hands and knees to enter it through a small door, leaving one’s backside wide open to a kick to push one in. The cell had one window. This too was barred and about eight feet from the floor. It was almost the length of the wall opposite the bars. The cell itself was about eight feet by six. The floor was concrete. The ceiling was about ten feet high. Inside, squatting against the left-hand side wall and near the entrance, were two Orientals. They were stripped except for what looked like ragged loincloths. They looked quite clean and not too badly off as regards to being fed.
Lacey and I took the right-hand side wall facing them. Lacey got straight down and lay on his back. I sat with my back against the wall, watching the two men opposite. They turned their heads sideways and spoke in whispers so I could not pick up what they were saying. I wanted to make sure that they were not Japanese put in as plants. I put my head in my hands and rested my arms on my knees, trying my hardest to hear what they were saying. Their shaven heads told me nothing, because both Chinese and Japanese had shaved heads and so did some Burmese. They did not talk much but just squatted on their heels. At times they both glanced over at me, but quickly averted their eyes when I looked up.
It was late in the afternoon when a guard came, unlocked the small door and called out to them ‘China’, and they crawled out into the hall.
About an hour later the two Orientals crawled back into the cell. They sat still until the guard had gone, then from beneath their meagre clothes they brought out a number of raw vegetables: potatoes, carrots and onions. Waving me into one of the corners of the cell that was hidden partly from the passage, they shared out their spoils. They tossed some to me. Halving my few scraps, I tapped Lacey who was asleep; he said that he did not want any. I made short shrift of the vegetables, eating them very fast, dirt and all.
It was after this that I tried to make conversation with them. They were Chinese soldiers. One, a short stocky fellow was quite jolly and always smiling. His name was Lieu Chang. The other always looked as though he had the worry of the world on him. He hardly smiled. His name was San Chien. He was taller and slimmer than Lieu.
Lieu seemed more ready to talk, so it was to him I became friendlier. He told me that he had been taken near the Chinese border some two months before, while Chien had been taken many months before him and had been here when he was brought in.
Lieu surprised me when he told me that in the next cell down the passage was an English officer. He told me also that when the guard took him and Chien out, it was to clean the vegetables for the Japanese meals, and that was how they managed to get them. He also said that they had to take food to the English officer. That was how they knew about him.
‘Will I get any food?’ I asked eagerly.
‘It is according to who is on duty.’ Lieu replied with a sad face. ‘We also have to be careful when we go out and bring in stuff, as some of the Japanese are very cruel,’ he informed me. ‘They would think nothing of chopping your hand off if we are caught. We try to put a little away and to the side,’ he said, pointing to the corner where two rusty small tins were.
‘But they are empty,’ I pointed out.
‘Yes, we have eaten it all today,’ he answered.
I looked at him. ‘You gave me what you normally put on one side?’
He nodded his head and gave a wide grin and shrugged his shoulders, as much to say, ‘There’s another day tomorrow.’
I gathered that there were times when no food or water came at all. It was left to the Japanese guard who was on duty if he thought we should get something.
San Chien spoke in a low voice, ‘Boo shaw wha!’
We could hear boots coming down the hall. San Chien had been standing at the bars listening. A Japanese stopped outside. ‘Ingris meshi, China no!’ he growled, then unlocked the small door and pushed in a small kettle and a bowlful of mixed-up rice and vegetables. It was obvious that it had been the leftovers and swill from the tables.
The two Chinese were again taken out and Lacey and I were left alone. The kettle contained water. I drank from it and moved over to Lacey to give him a drink too. I had to force him, and force him even harder to eat some food, but all he wanted to do was sleep. I tried my utmost to save some of the food, but it was like asking me not to drink the water of a pond I was swimming in when thirsty. When the Chinese came to take away the kettle and the bowl, I really felt ashamed that I had saved none.
As darkness began to fall on the cell and the air became cooler I tried to find the best position to lie on the flat concrete floor. The best place I found was to use part of Lacey as my pillow, but I found that as I turned over now and then through the night the cold of the bare concrete floor brought me awake, plus the fact that my hips were getting sore and hurting as I lay upon my side.
It seemed a very long night. I was glad when the dawn began to light up the cell. I noticed that the two Chinese had slept most of the night sitting in one position with their backs to the wall with their knees drawn up, resting their hands across their knees and laying their head on their arms. They stayed that way until the heat of the sun had warmed the floor of the cell. They then lay on the floor.
The two Chinese told me the British officer had been brought in some two months before Lacey and me. I asked them what his name was, but they said they had no idea.
A Japanese guard came and took the two Chinese out to prepare the morning meal. They returned with some hidden vegetables but did not eat them. Instead they put them in the tins and out of sight. They told me not to touch them, as a Japanese called Mundo was on duty. ‘He is a very bad man. He would not give any food to us,’ they told me. Sure enough we went that day without any food or water.
During the day I wanted to go to the toilet, as did Lacey. I asked the two Chinese what we had to do. They both shook their heads and said they did not know. They always managed to wait until they were taken out. I shouted for someone to come. Eventually a Japanese came with a bamboo stick. I was standing near the bars. I made the motion that I wished to make water, but the Japanese shouted and pushed the stick through the bars, making me back away. Lacey got to his feet, staggered over to the bars, gripped them and began to shout at the Japanese. I tried to pull him away, out of reach of the stick, but the Japanese whacked the stick down on Lacey’s head and lashed his hands with it as they gripped the bars. With me pulling Lacey from behind we both fell over backwards to the floor with a crash. At this the Japanese roared with laughter. I could not control either my bladder or my bowels any longer, so I got down and squatted in the furthest corner, beneath the window. Lacey followed me, but was unable to squat and overbalanced into the mess that I had made. The Japanese stood and watched and pinched his nose with two fingers and walked away. I made apologies to the two Chinese and said that I was very sorry. Other Japanese came and they also pinched their noses, but did nothing to help and laughed at our predicament.
Later, in the afternoon, the two Chinese were taken out and put into another cell. Lacey and I were alone in the now stinking cell.
We were kept in that state for a number of weeks. Some days we got food, some days we did not. Not once were we allowed out of that stinking cell. We were not allowed to wash or go to the toilet.
Lacey’s health was getting worse rapidly. He hardly spoke or held any sane conversation. His mind was also going. He woke me up one night in the dark cell and asked me to help him find his cigarettes and matches. I must have been in some kind of haze myself at that time, for I began to search for them until I suddenly realised that we had not had any fags or matches since our capture. I then cursed him for disturbing my sleep.
During the day I tried to keep myself fit by doing exercises and walking around the cell. One day a Japanese officer stood and watched me. He called me and spoke very good English. I pointed out the horrible conditions that we were in. I told him that it was not usual for prisoners of war to be treated as we were being treated. I told him that I was willing to work outside if I was allowed to. Here, I thought, I may have a friend. I would do almost anything to get out and get some fresh air.
The Japanese officer went away and came back with two of the Kempeitai guards. All three stood facing me. The officer spoke to the guards and then said to me, ‘I have told them that you would like to come out for work. Is that correct?’
‘Yes sir,’ I answered and nodded eagerly. ‘Yes, I would.’
The Japanese officer then turned to one of the guards and said, ‘Mundo,’ then spoke in Japanese. I knew then who Mundo was. The officer had given Mundo an order to find me some sort of job outside. The three moved away down the hall and out of sight. A few minutes later Mundo returned and undid the hatch for me to crawl out and into the passageway. I held myself in readiness for anything that might happen. I was cautious from what the two Chinese had told me, and I was on my guard.
Mundo was an evil-looking, stockily-built man with a flat nose and red face. One could see hatred in his eyes. He had a frog-like grating voice. He spoke very little English and expected everyone to understand Japanese. After locking the hatch he motioned me to follow him out into the bright sunlight and in view of the main road. I must have looked a real funny sight to the people who stared, with my long hair and bearded face in contrast to my pale white nakedness that had been starved not only of food but of sunlight and fresh air. I walked like a cat on a hot tin roof as I trod on the hot stones, my timid and tender feet not used to the heat. I ignored the looks of the staring people as they walked along or rode past me. I followed Mundo around to the rear of the house to what looked like a small outhouse. Mundo undid the latch and threw open the door. A look inside almost turned my stomach over and made me sick. The floor was completely covered with human excrement. In the middle of this there stood an enamel bucket, full to the brim with millions of yellow maggots crawling in it and overflowing into the mess on the floor, which was about two inches deep and spread out to each wall and the edge of the step.
Mundo turned to me and said in his best English, ‘Goodoh, creen,’ and pushed me towards the stinking horrible mess.
I turned to Mundo and asked, ‘Shovel? Shovel?’ I made the motion of shovelling, and asked again, ‘Shovel?’
‘No shoveluh! Goodoh, handoh.’ He spread out his hands to show me that I had to do it with my bare hands.
I was aghast that I should be expected to clean that mess up with my bare hands. ‘No!’ I said shaking my head and walked away from the doorway. Mundo’s face became red and he screamed ‘Goodoh, creen,’ and tugged at a small holster on his belt. He pulled a small pistol from the holster and put it to my head and pulled back the hammer as he did so.
‘Goodoh, creen! Speedo, speedo!’ he shouted in that frog-like voice. I knew that it would have given him great satisfaction to have reason to pull the trigger. So with as arrogant a smirk as I could put on my face at forcing him to draw the pistol on me, I turned and gingerly put one foot into the mess on the floor, trying not to take too much of a breath as I leaned down to grip the handle of the bucket. Trying not to spill any of the contents of filth, I turned and asked where to take it. Still pointing the pistol at me, Mundo directed me to go further around the back of the building where a pit had been dug for the refuse. Into this I tipped the bucket, with Mundo looking on. I once more asked for a shovel, but was refused. The hateful little Japanese made me get down and scoop up the filthy mess with my hands and into the bucket until it was full.
This took three journeys. On my way to and from the pit, I had to pass a water tap. On the last journey, I took the bucket and began to wash it under the tap. At the same time I made an attempt to get the mess from both my hands and feet. Mundo had, for a few moments, relaxed his vigil upon me, and I was succeeding in getting rid of the mess off my body. When he realized what I was doing, he made me come away from the water tap and took me back to the cell once more.