Mr Albert Victor Frain died this afternoon. ((Poor man, he'd gone ga-ga and had to be accommodated in a tiny room on the ground floor of the hospital, with a minder.))
Worked in morning.
Olive's beri-beri is coming back again, and her legs are septic.
Pacifist meeting in Rosaleen's room in evening, Q. MacFadyen, Gregory; and S. Carr came too.
No sugar ration - deficity by (someone ??E. Reed??) stealing it has to be made up to Japs.
Death of Albert Victor Frain, aged 48. Mr. Frain was a marine engineer from Aberdeen, who left £1,230 (net) in his will -presumably to his wife Marguerite who lived in Aberdeen.
According to George Wright-Nooth, he had once been a seaman. He lost his mind - it is not known if before or after the start of the war - and was looked after in a small room of Tweed Bay Hospital by attendants, usually police, who were given two biscuits a day for the mental strain.
Sources:
Will: Aberdeen Journal, May 24, 1947, 6 and 24 January 1946, 3
George Wright-Nooth, Prisoner of the Turnip Heads,1994, 213
B.M. Lard Y1,200, pork 1,000, cigs. 50
death – Albert Victor Frain (48)
Last Wednesday the Camp Labour Officer (Paterson) was told to standby on the following day with his labour squads (all men engaged on heavy work such as gardening, woodcutting etc.) to take delivery of the first consignment of our next issue of firewood. The Japs had stated that 400,000 catties (about 230 tons) were coming in by lighter and had to be shifted by us from the Prep School pier to the camp. This was not quite so far as the last time, when we had to bring it practically from Stanley Village, but the road from the pier is very steep and badly rutted. They said at first that we might have the use of the camp lorry, but this did not materialise. So the heavy labourers were told to abandon their normal work on Thursday and stand by for humping firewood. Later on Wednesday, word came that the wood was not arriving on the next day after all, so on Thursday morning we all turned out and did our normal jobs. Then, at 11 a.m., a launch towing a lighter was sighted and, behold, the firewood had arrived! ‘A’ squad (200 men) went out at noon and our ‘B’ squad relieved them at 2.30 p.m. and worked till 5 p.m. A third squad ‘C’ of 200 men relieved us at 5 p.m. and worked till 7.30 p.m. ‘A’ squad went on again at 7.30 and we were told to turn out at 9.30 to relieve them. We assembled at 9.30, but after waiting a while we were told to dismiss as ‘A’ squad had managed to shift the last of the wood. We were glad to get off, as 3 hours of humping wood on top of (for me) a morning’s woodcutting had tired me out. ‘A’ squad had been unlucky in having to do a second shift. These 600 men comprise practically all the so called ‘fit’ men in camp. Allow 50 more for cooks, doctors etc. and that makes a total of 650 out of 1220 and incidentally includes some pretty poor specimens.
The second consignment of wood was expected on Friday so we all ‘stood by’ taking good care this time not to do any other work! But this time it did not arrive until 4 p.m. the following day. ‘A’, and ‘B’ squads were augmented by ‘C’ squad on this occasion and the two squads worked alternate shifts. ‘B’ squad started at 4.30; ‘A’ relieved us at 7 p.m (which meant we did not get our 5 p.m. meal till then). ‘B’ again from 9.30 till midnight; ‘A’ from 12 till 2.30 a.m. and our luckless ‘B’ squad finished off from 2.30 till 4.30 a.m. It certainly was no picnic, and, were we tired! For some reason best known to themselves, the Japs insisted on getting the lighters unloaded and all the wood within the camp boundaries before we knocked off. I could understand them wanting the lighters unloaded immediately because both they and the still more valuable launch would be needed for other work; but why they should nearly kill us by insisting on getting it into camp straight away, I do not know. There were two lighters in the second consignment as against one in the first.
I think I should have found an aggregate of 8 hours in 24 of humping wood pretty tiring, even in England on a normal diet, but in this tropical heat and on this diet, it certainly became an endurance test. Actually, the second shift, from 9.30 till midnight was a very pleasant one. It was much cooler than during the day and as the moon was about 10 days old it gave a very good light. It set behind the hills at about 4 a.m. and the last half hour of the last shift, when we were dead tired and had to grope about and stumble along the rutted road was certainly an ordeal. Then, at the end, one of the wretched little Jap Sergeants made us parade in the area before the gaol and kept us standing at attention for fully 10 minutes while he checked and rechecked everything. Fortunately it was dark and I, with many others, kept sitting down each time he had passed!
There were one or two high lights. Marjorie Fortescue had organised a tea bar, borrowing buckets and pails and mugs, and making a collection of tea around the blocks. The various blocks provided hot water and a number of women volunteered to work in shifts and kept right on till the end – a pretty stout effort and much appreciated by the men. The tea was a Godsend, as carrying the wood was very thirsty work. The women were only allowed to work the top stage of the route, for the other stages were beyond the camp boundaries, but they were able to dispatch the pails of tea and some mugs and these were carried down by the men to the various squads. The first squad unloaded the lighters; the second carried from the pier to the Prep School; the third from the Prep School to the camp boundary and the fourth from there to a dump beside our blocks. The object of these sections was to shorten the distance and time that each man would have to carry a particular lump of wood and we were able to have more frequent rests on the backward journeys. Well, the other high light was the effort that our cooks made. They had kept our 7 p.m. meal warm and thereafter, when we came off our shifts both at midnight and 4.30 a.m. they had someone on duty with a scoopful of hot congee for everyone (and I presume ‘A’ squad was similarly treated). That too was a stout effort and helped us considerably. So that was the manner in which I heralded in my 33rd birthday!
I remember 15 years ago, at about 2 or 3 a.m. on the morning of my 18th birthday, catching a burglar at school. That I must say, was more spectacular, even if not so unusual as this method of celebrating! By the time I had finally eaten and washed last Sunday morning it was after 5 a.m. and I was so tired I could not go to sleep and dropped off only for about an hour before it was time to get up.
Y and I had arranged with Maudie to have my birthday lunch with her in her room. We had opened our last I.R.C. pudding for the occasion (a raspberry jam pud). Following a successful Stanley Camp recipe, Y had mashed up the pudding, added thereto some ground rice and water and steamed it in three separate tins for about ½ an hour. The flavour of these puddings is so excellent and strong that they could well stand the addition of rice flour; so we doubled the bulk without noticeably damaging the flavour. Y had beaten up some egg white crystals with some sugar and we each had a delicious little pudding covered with egg white and some roasted peanuts that Maudie had provided. They were simply delicious; my mouth still waters at the recollection. Maudie also provided coffee – an almost unknown luxury these days – which we had with cigarettes which, fortunately, had come in again in the middle of the month. But I have not mentioned the first course.
After the morning service, I went back to our blocks and collected Y’s meal and mine and took them back to Block 10. Being Sunday we had meat stew and when Maudie’s meal had also arrived Y made a curry with the stew plus some garlic and sweet potatoes that Maudie had contributed. So altogether we had a grand meal. I only wish we could have them more often! Y had made me a beautiful blue (real cornflower blue) shirt from a linen skirt that Devaux had sent in some time ago. There was only just enough material and she had had to use odd bits of other stuff to back the collar, the tunic front beneath the buttons and button holes etc. But the net result is most satisfactory. Anne Muir, bless her, sent me two cigarettes all neatly wrapped up. We shall laugh at these things one day.
Well, this is my fourth birthday in camp: it is almost unbelievable. Thirty three: this is the age at which Christ was crucified: it makes one stop and think a bit. It seems strange, when one reflects upon it, that amongst Christian nations no particular celebration whatever is observed at this anniversary of a person’s life, or during the Easter time of this particular year. I must confess that I don’t appear to have achieved a great deal up to date – except for having married Y; that was clever of me.
Fine, hot.
Window in Sewing shop. Shoes for G.
Cigs 48Y per pkt.
Guards moving up to H.Qs from Prep School.
Canteen staff joined up with Ration Party.
Frain died today (48)
(landing made in Japan 14th. New British ‘plane in action in Far East. 3 landings made on Sumatra)
Tea issued.
Lard Y1200 per lb. £60. ∴