Andrew Salmon Personal Diary Pacific 1939-1945: View pages

On the 15th January, the Japanese ordered all patients who could walk to parade. We were then herded together and transported across the harbour in lighters and marched to Sham Shui Po Barracks, which had been converted into a POW camp. It consisted of a married quarters called Jubilee Buildings and a large number of wooden huts.

The only thing that could be said in its favour was that it was spacious, and also possessed a parade ground. The food was worse than at North Point and consisted of a small bowl of rice twice a day, without meat or vegetables, or even salt.

The rice had been swept up from warehouse floors and first had to be soaked in water to allow matchsticks, paper, and other refuse to float up to the top. This was our diet for the first four months. At the end of this period, over 80% of the camp were suffering from malnutrition and deaths were occurring at the rate of four or five a day. The strength of the camp at this time was about 5,000. The Indian troops and most of the British officers had been placed in other camps in Kowloon.

During these four months, we were on starvation rations and some of the things done to alleviate hunger were quite incredible. Within a month there was hardly a blade of grass left in the camp, and all of the many pet dogs which had been brought into the camp had been eaten - and enjoyed. Ingenuity and necessity combined, brought forth many weird and peculiar inventions to catch birds around the camp. Even snakes were a delicacy. Fortunately, the camp still had electricity laid on, and many and varied were the gadgets devised and made out of odds and ends - water heaters, fires, lights, etc. One of our greatest hardships was lack of cigarettes, and for the first few months our only chance of getting a smoke was to exchange any valuables we possessed, such as wristwatches, rings, etc. with the' Japanese guards. Cigarettes were at such a high premium that it was possible at one stage to buy a gold watch for ten, a blanket for two-, or one-day ration of food for one, and it was a common sight to see the men drying tea leaves in the sun to smoke in their pipes.

About April, the Japanese shifted all the officers (with the exception of six M.O.'s for the hospital, etc., and a Major Boon, to act as Camp Officer) to the Argyle Street internment camp. They then erected around our camp an electrified wire fence, for a few of our men had managed to escape into Chinese-held territory, in Kwangtung - although unfortunately, some of these were eventually betrayed on the way by Chinese civilians, for rewards offered, and then shot out of hand. Some, more fortunate, were helped and assisted, and after many trials and tribulations eventually reached Free China and our own people.

On Mondays and Thursdays, friends and relatives were allowed to come within a hundred yards of the camp, and great would be our eagerness to search for acquaintances among the crowds gathered. On these days, the brutality of the Japanese guards became more pronounced. They would pick out some young girl or woman, and, in front of the crowds of civilians and in full view of the camp, strip and beat her unmercifully with rifle butts. Then, in a pitiful state, she was thrown to the roadside.

We held a deep admiration for the courageous attitude of the Chinese girls, of the notorious district of Wanchai, who had proved their worth during the street fighting in Hong Kong, when they braved many dangers, to bring food and hot tea to our troops, fighting in the streets, which were under constant machine-gun fire; and had even taken wounded into their houses and rendered first aid, although they knew, that death was the penalty, imposed by the Japanese for doing so. Now, week after week, they would stand for hours, just to have a glimpse of friends in the camp and, when the guards' backs were turned, would even run close to the camp, to throw in a note or some small item of food, although some were caught and brutally executed, in full view of the prisoners. The loyalty of these women was tremendous.

The Japanese frequently conducted a lightning search of the camp, as they suspected that we had a few radio sets; and although they discovered, through informers, two or three of these sets, we were still able to get scraps of news. When conducting these searches, the guards had everyone paraded in an open space, in the centre of the camp, including even the sick, who, however, as a concession, were allowed to take a small stool on which to sit. Little did they realise that, in more than one case, these seats had small receiver sets built into them, which thus remained hidden by the sick prisoners themselves during the search.

At about this time, due to food shortages in the Colony, the Japanese decided to get rid of most of the Chinese inhabitants. For about a week, night and day, a never-ending stream of dejected humanity was to be seen winding up the mountain roads into the bare and rugged country, the New Territories, on the way to China.

It was estimated that nearly three-quarters of a million Chinese were driven out of Hong Kong and the New Territories, and the number who died on the bare slopes of the mountains must have run into hundreds of thousands. It was to us just another aspect of the Japanese idea of “a Greater East Asia Co-prosperity Sphere”.

About May 1942, the Japanese forced all fit men in the camp to form up into working parties, which were sent to Kai Tak aerodrome to lengthen the runways, so that their fighter planes could take off and land, and also to clear the New Territories roads, which we had blocked by demolition, before evacuating the mainland. For this work, we received the sum of 5 sen a day, which is about ½d, but there was little we could buy although, in June, a few cigarettes were brought in for sale in the camp.

At this time, the food began to improve slightly. Beside rice, a small amount of yams, bamboo shoots, lily roots, and carnation leaves were sent in for vegetables, and occasionally small supplies of fish appeared, mostly whalemeat or squid; and about once a month, as a delicacy, we even received some horsemeat. But this improved diet was too late for many, who died as a result of malnutrition and dysentery. One case in point was a man who, prior to the war, was a well-known athlete, well-built and weighing about 200 pounds, this man died of starvation, and after his death his body was weighed, turning the scales at 69 pounds.

Towards mid-July, a vague rumour started circulating that some of the camps were to be shifted to Japan as labour battalions. This was soon confirmed, when about a thousand of the fittest men were inoculated and rigorously inspected. They finally sailed about the 6th of August 1942 and, as we found out later, arrived safely in Japan and were sent to work at shipyards in the Tokyo area.

At the beginning of September, we were again warned that a further draft would be leaving in the near future. Many who had come nearly to the end of their tether, with the monotony of the present camp, eagerly volunteered for the chance of new surroundings, as popular feeling held the view that any change would be for the better than the existence we were leading at present. We should certainly have not been so enthusiastic had we been able to foresee the events to come.

When the draft was formed, we were given a medical check, which included a glass tube being inserted in one's rear, as the Japanese were scared of dysentery being spread in Japan. We were also given some extra clothing.

On the 25th September 1942, after days of standing by, we were all paraded and addressed by a Lieutenant Wada through his interpreter, Niimori: "You are going to a pleasant land, where you will be well looked after. I will be in charge of you. Remember my face."

On 27th September we were divided into groups of 50 and loaded into lighters from a small pier at the corner of the Camp and taken out to an old freighter, of about 7,000 tons. The name of the ship was the "Lisbon Maru", the captain being Capt. Kyoda Shigeru. The ship had three holds. In No.1 hold (nearest the bow of the ship) were mainly Royal Naval personnel. In No.2 hold were the Royal Scots, Middlesex Regt. and some smaller units. In No.3 hold were the Royal Artillery and above them, between-decks, were about 800 Japanese troops, returning to Japan. Total number of POWs on board were 1,816.

The space allotted to us was appalling; we were located deep in the holds of the ship which had been fitted with wooden platforms, as one lay down, the clearance above one's head was only about two feet to the next tier. In our hold, over 450 POWs were placed. The Japanese troops were located over us in the between decks. The ship also carried a large amount of stores which had been captured in Hong Kong.

We discovered as we tumbled down into the hold that our only ventilation was the air which filtered down through the open hatches, while our sanitation for the journey consisted of a few buckets which, considering many were suffering from dysentery, were totally inadequate. During the day, the POWs were allowed on deck in small batches and able to use wooden contraptions, slung over the side of the ship, to serve as “toilets”. The food issued to us was far better than we had been getting in Camp - rice, spoonful of vegetables, and a tin of bully beef between four men, each day.

The ship eventually left Hong Kong on the 27th September. The weather was fine and warm, the sea smooth. The next three days were uneventful - we travelled north, close to the China coast. Few of us thought then, as we watched the receding shores of Hong Kong that for more than half of those on board, it was the last time they would ever see land.

The Japanese were accommodated on the between-decks and all of them were loaded with watches, cameras, jewellery, etc., looted in Hong Kong. Occasionally, they would throw a cigarette down, just to watch us scramble for it, and would laugh at our humiliation. Conditions were terrible in the holds, as many were too weak to move and make use of the few toilet buckets available. Although we had been medically examined before sailing, we had not been on board for more than a day before diphtheria and dysentery broke out. As there were no drugs or medicines available, these infections spread rapidly. The movement of the ship also caused seasickness among the chaotic conditions. Tempers became short and our cloak of civilisation was thrown off, as we struggled for our very existence - our sole aim then was self-preservation and survival.  We consoled ourselves with the thought, however, that the journey was only for a few days. We were unable to tell night from day in the darkness of the holds, no lights being allowed. A roll call was taken twice a day, but the Japanese guards did not enter the holds, the senior officer in each hold reported the muster to them.

So, the journey went on, until what eventually turned out to be about 7 a.m. on the 1st October when a sudden screaming and commotion from the deck made us realise that something unexpected had happened. Suddenly, we heard a whistling sound, which we at first thought was a shell, but which later turned out to be a torpedo which had just missed our bows. Then there was a terrific explosion and the ship rocked violently - we all thought we had been hit by a shell, but actually we had been torpedoed. We found out later that we had been attacked by an American submarine, the U.S.S. "Grouper" (SS214), which was on a War Patrol in the China Sea. The Japanese were panic-stricken and running in all directions. The few POWs on deck at the time, including some sick POWs, were bundled down into the holds. The Japanese crew started to fire a gun, fitted to the bow of the ship and we could hear (and feel) the sound of depth charges being dropped.

The ship started to list slightly. Down below, we did not know what was happening and we could do nothing but just sit back and hope for the best. Suddenly, we heard the ominous sound of rushing water in the hold beneath us.

The torpedo had apparently struck the port side coal bunker and engine room, killing some of the crew and had strained the bulkhead dividing the compartment beneath us from the engine room, and the rushing sound we could hear was the water pouring through the damaged plates.

About an hour later, some of the Japanese crew lowered heavy timber beams into the space beneath us to attempt to reinforce the bulkhead. We could now hear the sound of the Japanese aircraft overhead, searching for the submarine, and we later found out that we had been torpedoed roughly two hundred miles south-east of Shanghai.

After a few hours we felt a bumping alongside, which turned out to be Japanese Navy ships, into which the Japanese troops and most of the crew was transferred.

A small hand-pump was lowered into our hold, and through a Japanese interpreter, we were informed that if we did not pump continuously, we would go down with the ship. After the pump had been lowered, the hatch covers were put in place, battened down, and tied with rope, which meant that our only supply of air was cut off. Four hundred odd men were in our hold, half of whom were unconscious by morning through lack of air, which was so bad that evening that the few candles we possessed would not remain alight. We had had no food or water for the past 36 hours, yet the will to live was so strong, that the pump was kept going through that hellish night. Four men would work it for about five minutes and would then be relieved by others. Under these conditions, five minutes seemed to stretch into eternity, and after pumping, one would stagger into a corner exhausted and gasping for breath. How many died that night will never be known.

Meanwhile, the water in the compartment beneath us was rising rapidly and causing the wooden beams to float from side to side, hammering the bulkhead. In the darkness, a few unfortunate men slipped into the block void below and were drowned or crushed by the beams.

By early morning, most of us realised that the ship was doomed, as she listed more and more heavily, and it was decided to try to break out of the hold, irrespective of the consequences. Two or three men, therefore, clambered laboriously up the stanchions and the remains of a wooden ladder and commenced to force the hatch covers - this meant at times, holding on with one hand in the pitch darkness with a 30ft. drop into the hold below if they should weaken. At last, they were able to open a corner and fresh cool air from the deck above (between deck) rushed in like a breath of new life. About this time the ship gave a lurch, and everyone who had any strength at all scrambled to get out of the hold. Many were panic-stricken and on reaching the 'between deck' found the steel doors leading to the open deck bolted from the outside. Some in their panic attempted to squeeze through the portholes and wedged themselves, hanging there screaming, until eventually a further list of the ship brought them merciful oblivion by drowning. A short while later, someone from No.1 or No.2 Hold (Ginger Howell?) opened the bolts on the steel doors and we poured out onto the open deck.

A wonderful relief to see the blue sky and we stood for a moment eagerly taking deep breaths of clean, cold air - but only for a moment. We noticed five Japanese naval ships, circling a few hundred yards from the doomed vessel and when they saw the POWs breaking out of the holds, they opened up with rifle and machine gun fire, so that many who were in the water and trying to swim over to the naval ships were killed in the water. I saw a Japanese point a gun in my direction, it looked as big as a cannon. I dived under the water and stayed there as long as I could. Whether I was fired at I do not know, as on breaking the surface I found the ship had moved on. From then on, I tried my best to avoid, as far as possible, detection. Fortunately, the sea was covered in wreckage and floating litter.

We could see in the distance, about six miles away, a small group of islands. (We discovered later that these were the CHU SAN Islands, about 140 miles South of Shanghai). Fortunately, a strong current was flowing towards the islands, although later the current changed and those who had stayed on the "Lisbon Maru" till the last moment were swept out to sea.

The sea was fairly calm, and the water was not cold. There were a number of bales of cloth floating in the water, apparently having been washed out of the holds in the rear part of the ship which had been under water for some time. After being in the water for about two hours, I managed to join up with another survivor on a piece of floating wreckage. This was 'Ginger' Howell who was instrumental in unscrewing the bolts on the door and allowing men from No.3 Hold to escape. Sometime later, as we neared the island, 'Ginger' hailed a fisherman in a sampan. Ginger had lived in Shanghai previously and could speak a little of the northern dialect. The fisherman picked us up and took us to the opposite side of the island where there was a tiny beach on which he dropped us, fortunately, as the side nearest the “Lisbon Maru” was steep and rocky. Many POWs lost their lives being dashed onto the rocks.

Looking back from the top of the small island, we saw the "Lisbon Maru" slide gently beneath the waves, the superstructure still black with men. The small island we were on was roughly circular in shape, a few hundred yards across, rising to a height of about 150 ft. steeply from the sea. Our immediate aim was to find water, there was about a dozen of us. We were fortunate in discovering a small spring, oozing from the rocks. After refreshing ourselves, we went to the rocky cliffs to try and help others to get onto the island. There was a heavy swell, and many were battered to death on the sharp encrusted rocks before they could be helped to safety.

From the island a never-to-be-forgotten sight met our eyes, for as far as the eye could see, the ocean was dotted with men and wreckage. Because of the strong current, hundreds were swept past the island and out to sea to die of thirst or exposure, although some were fortunate to be picked up by fishing sampans some hours later. The island we were on was uninhabited, but in the distance, we could see some larger islands.

By evening, there were about twenty of us survivors on the island, some of whom were suffering from wounds received from small arms fire from the naval ships. We spent the night huddled together for warmth, as it was very cold at night, and we were practically naked. In the morning we attracted the attention of a fisherman, who offered to take us in his sampan, a few at a time, to a larger island about three miles away, where apparently, a Chinese village was situated. We pooled the few pitiful valuables we possessed, such as rings etc., to pay for this journey, and I imagine that that morning our friend, the fisherman, earned enough to keep himself in luxury for some time. Eventually, we all managed to get across, although the passage was very difficult as the boat was heavily loaded so there were only three or four inches of freeboard, and we were ploughing through a heavy swell in pouring rain.

On arriving at the large island, we walked up from the shore to a village in a fertile valley. We were received with much hospitality by the villagers, who put us in a temple compound, where we were given some rice and fish, the first meal we had had for three days or more. Those who had no clothing whatever were given some items of clothing, which we welcomed gratefully. We were informed that about 140 others were on this island. We were all, without exception, in a pitiful condition, due to weakness, sickness, and exposure. But, after the events of the past few days, we were glad to be on dry land again.

The Chinese were definitely anti-Japanese, although living in a Japanese dominated territory and gave us everything they could spare, and more, out of their meagre belongings, so that we spent the night in comparative comfort. (Note: Some years later, after the war had ended, I attended a presentation to these villagers, in Hong Kong, of a motorized fishing trawler and monetary awards as a token of gratitude.)

About 10 o'clock the next morning, we saw two Japanese auxiliary naval vessels approaching the island. The villagers were fearful that they would suffer for helping us and begged us not to tell the Japanese of the hospitality we had received.

Within an hour, a heavily armed motor launch reached the island and a Japanese officer, with a party of soldiers, fully armed and carrying large flags, arrogantly stepped ashore and approached our helpless and pathetic group. He said in a loud voice “Do you surrender?". It would have been laughable, had it not been so grim. We were rounded up and transported to the naval vessels where, wonder of wonders, we were sat on the open deck and given a meal of rice.

We soon sailed, and finally, on the 5th October, we arrived at Woosung, near Shanghai. But not before some more POWs died on the journey and their bodies thrown over the side.

On arrival at Shanghai, we were off loaded at a Railway wharf, at Woosung. We were made to sit in the open. During the next few hours more naval patrol ships arrived with further batches of survivors. We were made to strip off any clothing given us by the islanders, and a roll call was taken. We were kept on the open wharf for over 24 hours without food or shelter - this we were informed, being a punishment for succeeding in escaping from a sinking ship! Apparently, we had disobeyed a Japanese order, which intended us to go down with the ship. It was also pointed out to us, with the aid of a stick, by the interpreter, Niimori, that we would have saved the Japanese Imperial Forces, a good deal of trouble, if we had gone down with the ship!

The roll call taken, that out of the original 1816 men, who had boarded the "Lisbon Maru" in Hong Kong, only about 900 had been saved, of these at least another 200 were to die in the next few weeks, due to the after-effects of the torpedoing, and subsequent exposure and sickness.

By the next day we were all in a pitiful state, hungry, and blue with cold. We were then issued each with Chinese jacket and trousers (which turned out to be alive with lice) and given a bowl of soup to drink. We were then loaded on board another ship, the "Shinsei Maru", a cargo vessel of about 8,000 tons. We were forced down into the holds, fitted out similar to the "Lisbon Maru". The holds contained lorries and other military transport and stores. We were kept in the holds for four days, until our arrival at Moji in southern Japan, at the entrance to the Inland Sea.

As many of us POWs were suffering from dysentery and other sicknesses, the state of the military equipment in the hold can be left to the imagination, when we were finally released from the holds. Another example of the lack of any humanity by the Japanese was shown in the fact that, although many of our chaps had wounds or injuries, the Japanese refused to issue any bandages or medical supplies. About four died in our hold during the journey and taken out and thrown overboard.

We were agreeably surprised when we caught our first glimpse of Japan. It was really beautiful at Moji, which is at the entrance to the Inland Sea. Numerous small green hilly islands dotted the water, and many flowers and shrubs made a colourful picture, with the mountains providing a splendid background.

The weather was cold, dry, and snow could be seen on the nearby hills.

On disembarkation, we were surrounded by Japanese medical orderlies, in white coats, who sprayed each of us, from head to foot, with a delousing powder. The Japanese were really concerned that diphtheria and dysentery must not be imported into Japan. After this, we were escorted to a railway siding (in great discomfort due to lack of footwear). More than 30 POWs who were so sick that they could not walk were taken away to hospital, we were told. We were then herded on board a train and, wonder of wonders, were given a meal of rice and vegetable. 

Every few hours we dropped off other sick and wounded POWs, at Kokura and Hiroshima. At last, we arrived at Kobe and about 500 men were taken off the train, to walk to their destination Kobe POW Camp. The remainder of us were taken by train to our camp at Osaka. The date was the 12th October 1942. There were just over 300 of us.

Our first few weeks in Osaka surprised us: our camp was a two-storeyed wooden building in the midst of the dock area, and our food was reasonably good. This, however, was only in order to get us back to health and strength, so that we could be used for labour.

We had as our POW Commandant, Col. Murata, who soon forced us to learn Japanese commands and orders. We were made to bow, to all Japanese officers and troops, although we attempted to fight against doing this, any such attempt meant a vicious beating. The seriously ill and wounded were taken to a hospital a few miles away, which consisted of converted dressing rooms of an old sports arena, called Ichioka (Itchioka). Lt. Cdr. Jackson, R.N.V.R., a Naval Surgeon, took charge there and although drugs, medicines, and instruments were scarce, he saved many lives due to his skill and perseverance, at times performing operations with only razor blades and scissors. 

In the early part of November 1942, I was sent to this hospital and although only a month there, it was a month too long. The conditions were frightful, deaths occurring at the rate of one or two a day, while the food ration was only half that issued at the previous camp.

The Japanese would only issue a full ration to those able to work - it is one of their rules that as soon as one is ill and cannot work, food at once is cut by half. This was the general rule in Japan, and applied to both civilians and Service personnel alike, and intends to force the sick to continue working in order not to starve. 

On my return to the main camp, I found that working parties were going to the docks daily, loading and unloading ships. The work was strenuous, but we were able at times to help ourselves to a little sugar and rice, which was a great help and although we were, of course, searched on our return to the camp, we invariably managed to bring something back for the sick and ourselves. We worked alongside Japanese civilians and, as we had our orders given in Japanese, we soon became proficient in our knowledge of that language. Our pay was about five sen a day, and there was a small canteen where we could buy tea, sauce, and occasionally cigarettes.  Whilst working, we also received a monthly issue of a hundred cigarettes, some soap, and toothpowder.

Our daily routine at this time was as follows: -

• 5.00 a.m. - Reveille
• 5.30 - Morning meal (rice and vegetables)
• 6.00 - Roll Call
• 6.30 - Working parties left
• 7.00 - Started work
• 12.30 p.m. to 1.00 p.m. - Rest period, with a meal, if we had saved anything from breakfast
• 5.00 - Ceased work (sometimes)
• 6.00 - Evening meal, again rice and vegetables, with meat once a month.
• 8.00 - Roll Call; turned in.

Once a month was a rest day, for purposes of washing, etc., but since we had only one set of clothes, washing these meant walking around draped in a blanket all day. Lice were a great nuisance, but it is certainly an ill-wind that blows nobody good, for when the sentries entered our rooms, we started de-licing, which swiftly sent them elsewhere! The Japanese did not show much antagonism towards us, and so long as we obeyed them, they did not interfere with us, although if we showed any signs of defiance we were at once brutally punished.

Not long after our arrival in Japan, a few of us were fortunate in being allowed to send a short, recorded message to our families, to let them know we had survived the Lisbon Maru episode. I subsequently discovered that this was the first news received of me by my family in Australia since the fall of Hong Kong.

In this way, life dragged on in a monotonous cycle of eating, sleeping, and working, and in an effort to break this monotony, during the hour before we turned in at night, we organised small concert parties and quizzes, and out of odds and ends managed to make chess and draughts sets.

At Christmas 1942, we were overjoyed to be given a Red Cross parcel containing such delicacies as meat, butter, tinned milk, etc., which unfortunately was eaten all too soon. We were also given a few musical instruments and on our rest days we held impromptu concerts, to which the Japanese guards listened most appreciatively. Few of the guards understood English, so we made up our own words to popular songs, which would certainly have shocked the Japanese if they had understood the lyrics.

We managed now and then, to obtain a copy of the Japanese (English Edition) newspaper "Osaka Mainichi", although this only proved to us the low mentality of the Japanese people. The ridiculous things published as facts, and believed, would have been reserved for our comic strips at home. One example of this, was a report which stated that when Singapore fell, the inhabitants were so grateful to see the Imperial Japanese Forces march in, that even the monkeys in the treetops were shouting "Banzai"! Another report was to the effect that when a Japanese fighter plane landed at an aerodrome, an ambulance with a doctor rushed to meet it, to find that the pilot had been dead for about two hours; it was announced that his spirit had brought the plane back safely!

It may also be interesting to recall that the newspapers printed, that every ship in the U.S. Navy was sunk at least three times in the first year of war. It was hard to understand at first, how the Japanese people could believe all this rubbish, or how the Government could dominate the very lives and minds of the people right from childhood, telling them what to do, where to live, where to work, how many children to have, etc. We realised that the Japanese were not even allowed to have a mind of their own, but that all thinking was done for them by the State.

Our work on the docks was hard, but it kept us healthy as it occupied our minds. At this time, many of the ships we· unloaded were bringing sugar and other commodities from Singapore and Malaya, and needless to say, we became quite adept at "acquiring" food, etc. Often a party of us would board a ship to unload it and at the end of the day the crew would find that the ship's galley had been emptied of all foodstuffs; this would result in a rigorous search, but by that time we had put the food where it would do us the most good.

We were surprised to find that a great many of the Japanese working class were not at all interested in the war. They could not express any feelings of their own, as they had been brought up to have no minds or opinions of their own. We found that many of them were inclined to be pro-British, although anti-American, and through them we were able to receive items of news, although they were terrified of the “Kempei Tai”.    The “Kempei Tai” were actually Military Police, but these M.P.s had unusual power in Japan. They held the power of life and death over everyone, Services and civilians alike, and had a lar ge number of "undercover” men, who mixed with the rest of the population. As a result of this, everyone in Japan was afraid of their neighbour.

The Japanese women, we found, were very courteous, not only to their own people, but also to us; they lead a very narrow existence and are only concerned with childbearing and labour. They have no legal standing and can be cruelly beaten for the slightest mistake, while if a woman (whether aged 8 or 80) is sitting down in a tram, bus or train, and a man enters, she must immediately stand up and offer her seat. Modesty is non-existent, and during the hot weather, the women bathed in full public view and walk around as naked as on the day they were born. Every street in Japan has its own little communal bathhouse, where the population of the street proceeds each evening, men, women, and children together.

Some of our POWs were working in steel-mills and cement factories, and they were embarrassed at first, to be led at the end of the day, to the factory's communal bath, and told to undress and bathe themselves in full view of twenty or thirty girls who were already bathing! However, it was only another proof that the Englishman can adapt himself to any circumstances whatsoever! 

1943 dragged slowly through. Our monotonous existence was taking its toll and we watched man after man, although not suffering from any serious physical complaint, slowly let himself go and eventually die. Whenever a sick person was transferred to the camp "hospital", his food was cut and he was denied the simple but welcome privileges of the "workers" - cigarettes, books, etc. Under such conditions, it can be understood why the percentage of deaths in the hospital was so high.

Our camp was divided into two parts, the British on one side and American POWs from the Philippines, Wake, and Guam on the other. We also had in the camp about 50 merchant seamen, who had been captured in the South Atlantic by a German raider, and put ashore into the hands of the Japanese, when the raider entered a Japanese port for refuelling.

There were roughly 40 to 50 of us in each room. Our only form of bedding was a double shelf about six feet wide, which ran the length of the room. This shelf, covered with straw matting, was where we ate and slept, each man being allowed only 22 inches of space. Each morning and evening "Tenko" (roll call) was held.  We stood in one line round the room and when the Japanese Duty Officer and N.C.O. entered, we numbered smartly in Japanese - I say smartly, because if the Japanese officer was not satisfied, we were invariably struck over the head with a sword scabbard or rifle butt. One unpleasant incident occurred when a Japanese officer, whom we called "Abenei" ("Dangerous") flew into a rage and laid about him with his sword. When he had finished, the room looked like a battlefield, with blood everywhere, and over twenty men in one room had to be treated for injuries and cuts.

Nearly every week the Japanese guards would make surprise searches of the camp, and it was unfortunate for anyone who was found with forbidden articles, such as knives, diaries, records, etc., or goods pilfered from ships or docks. Yet it was surprising that in nearly every case, we were able to get advance information, that such a search was to take place and hide forbidden articles. It was easy for us to outwit the Japanese on these occasions, as they would only look in the most obvious places, and at times when we knew a search was likely to take place, we w ould hide our diaries, records, etc. in the firebox in the Japanese Guardhouse or hanging outside a window on a piece of string, and after the "raid" had been completed, would calmly retrieve them, when the guards’ backs were turned.

About July 1943 a party of us started to work on a new camp about a hundred yards from the present site. With only a handful of Japanese workmen, we completed it in January 1944. The Japanese tradesmen were surprised when, within a short time, we had mastered the use of Japanese tools, which were totally different from those we had been used to. This happened in every place where Japanese and POWs were working side by side, and the Japanese always suffered from an inferiority complex, which they tried unsuccessfully to hide, when they saw we could do the work better and more efficiently than they. Needless to say, we only demonstrated this superiority when it would be of benefit to us.