June the 1st, 1945, dawned bright and sunny, and when the air raid alarm sounded at about 9 a.m., we guessed it would be a heavy raid, as in the previous few days, we had had many observation planes over our area.
Since our camp was situated on a peninsular, with the whole area for at least five miles north of us burnt out, we realised that sooner or later we were due for a blasting, especially as we were surrounded by docks, warehouses, and shipyards.
June the 1st brought this expected attack. The first wave of B.29's passed over at about 10 a.m. and the first stick of bombs hit our camp in 3 places, fortunately by incendiaries. Luckily, the majority of POWs were at their working places, and nobody was injured in this first attack. Fires were kept under control, though with difficulty, as the bombs were 50-kilo oil bombs which, when exploded, flung burning oil in all directions. The next two hours passed in a crescendo of noise and terror, as waves of B.29’s dropped their deadly loads all around us.
Wharves, warehouses, offices, and homes were ablaze in all directions and a huge pile of black smoke lay over the area. After the first bombardment, our camp was not hit again, until the last wave came over about noon. Our camp was then struck in a dozen places, and within minutes was a blazing inferno. We had no time to take any belongings, except a few medical supplies and all of us, Japanese and POWs together rushed to the sea wall. The heat from the burning godowns was intense, causing strong gales to develop, which in turn caused the fires to spread more rapidly, until the whole district was ablaze, laid waste from a modern city to desolation in a matter of a few hours. Fires were still burning four days later.
The rest of the day was spent in carrying in wounded and injured Japanese civilians and POWs alike. Casualties were high among the Japanese and must have run into thousands. As the day wore on, our lads who had been out on the docks in working parties straggled back in ones and twos. Many had been cut off by the flames and had had to swim across the harbour.
It seemed as if Providence had watched over them for many had had remarkable escapes. In one instance, a working party of 20 men had been locked up in a warehouse full of cotton, which had received direct hits from a number of bombs, setting on fire the goods within. It seemed as if they were doomed, but they worked with a will and stacking a number of bales close to a wall, climbed up and forced a small ventilator barely wide enough to scramble through. Miraculously, all were saved, although a number had serious burns.
We spent that night in an old, dilapidated shed which had escaped being burnt, as it was at the water's edge. That night was as bright as day, and during the night when the sirens sounded, we huddled together in our over-crowded abode and hoped for the best. Fortunately, no bombs were dropped during the night, or at least, not near our district.