Escape to Pagan (33 page)
Authors: Brian Devereux
The Cherry Blossom Islands
JAPAN
The 724 fit survivors of the
Lisbon Maru
reached Japan without incident on the
Shencei Maru
, which docked at Moji harbour on the 10th October. To the surprise of the prisoners, representatives from the world's press were present and wished to speak to them regarding the sinking of the
Lisbon Maru
. Before this could happen, the prisoners were warned not to divulge any of the details that would compromise the reputation of their captors. Knowing there would be severe reprisals, the survivors were forced to comply. This enabled the Japanese to sanctimoniously announce that all the rescued prisoners were eternally grateful for the kind and generous treatment they received from the Imperial Army and Navy. Tokyo Rose (Iva Toguri D'Aquino) had another field day praising Nipponese gallantry while criticising the American submarine arm as heartless barbarians for deliberately sinking a prisoner of war ship.
However, soon after, the Japanese Army Headquarters in Tokyo issued an order concerning all prisoners being shipped to Japan: “Recently during transporting prisoners of war to Nippon, many prisoners have died and many have been incapacitated due to their treatment on board. In future the prisoners should arrive at their destination in a condition
to perform work for the good of the Nipponese war effort.” The next part of the order was typical of the Japanese when dealing with non-Japanese: “If the present conditions continue [concerning prisoners] it will be impossible for us to expect world opinion of us to be what we want it to be!” Despite this order, conditions for prisoners at sea did not change for the better; perhaps this order was “belly talk”; you had to guess what it really meant.
The remaining prisoners (the so-called “fit” men) were then split into two groups. I have no exact information regarding where Sergeant Devereux was at this time, perhaps he was still in Shanghai with the seriously sick or in the hospital at Kukara where another twenty-two prisoners died.
At Moji the prisoners were surprised to be loaded onto comfortable trains and provided with regular meals of good quality and quantity. The prisoners were taken to Hiroshima; from there they were split up and sent to various work camps, mines and dockyards in Nagasaki, Osaka, Narumi and Nagoya.
Sergeant Devereux, when classed fit for work, spent some time in Narumi, Tateyama and Nagoya POW camp. Nagoya camp was situated in the middle of the town where he was in charge of a working party of Royal Scots. He was later transferred (according to Mother) to Nagasaki before the war ended. This may well be true, as he often talked of the Australians (there were no Australians in Tateyama as far as I know) who were the greatest risk takers, thieves and saboteurs of Japanese war production, despite the regular bashings they received from the guards. He and other men of the Royal Scots used to cringe as an Australian whose surname was Diamond used to nosily puncture drums containing oil with a hammer and spike late at night.
One thing I do know, wherever the Sergeant was, he would be exchanging his midday rice and small pickle for tobacco. The weather in Japan can be colder than Britain, as the islands are situated not far from Siberia. The biting cold wind cut through the thin uniforms of the half-starved prisoners.
“Jack said that the winds in Japan where colder than those that came off the Pennines in winter. In Nagoya Jack began to learn Nippon Go from a member of the Hong Kong Volunteer Force who spoke it fluently. Many of the elderly businessmen serving in the HKVF spoke Japanese and Chinese in their line of work. Their presence was one of the reasons why this POW camp ran relatively smoothly. Much of the troubles in POW camps were caused by misunderstandings.”
Tam and Willie finally ended up in Nagasaki. At the beginning the food and the daily quotas of work expected were reasonable and this continued throughout the first year, however, the following year when Nippon no longer ruled the seas, the food situation grew steadily worse for all the people of Japan. The submarine embargo enforced on Japan by America was biting hard. Japanese civilians were hungry and were forced to go out at weekends to forage for wild greens in the countryside and collect seaweed.
One day at Nagoya POW camp, the volatile veteran guard Sergeant Kanamura presented Sergeant Devereux with a small satsuma as if it was the most rare and mythical “All Seeing Eye.” The grateful Sergeant quickly swapped it for three cigarettes. Sergeant Devereux was Kanamura's favourite prisoner because of his honesty and military bearing while taking his punishment, and perhaps because he survived an attempted beheading. He considered himself an expert on decapitation after his long service in China and had many photographs to prove it. Using his cane, Kanamura often used Sergeant Devereux to demonstrate the correct way to behead a prisoner. It must have entered the Sergeant's mind that one day a warrior-god would use a real sword instead of a stick.
Typhoid and Cholera
BURMA
“Cholera and typhoid were bought to Tada u by some poor Tamil slave workers who had escaped from the Three Pagodas Pass, on the Burmese side of the Siam death railway. They left several of their dead companions behind near the Buddhist pagoda and water well. To our consternation, you contracted typhoid. If it was not for your grandmother's care and attention, you would have died. I didn't know what to do or how to cope keeping your illness a secret not only from the Japs but everyone else that lived in our terrace. The Japanese were terrified of typhoid and cholera, which could kill in twenty-four hours. They walked around wearing white masks and gloves for many days keeping away from everyone. All the bodies had to be burnt in the jungle. My mother said we had to isolate your drinking water from ours as typhoid is spread through water.
“After a week or so you began to recover, but we didn't allow you to play with the other children until you had gained weight and looked relatively healthy. We used to go to all kinds of lengths to get you to eat and look normal. Luckily just before you fell ill you had caught a serious parasitic disease called mec-a-lau. You broke out in boils on your bottom, each containing parasitic worms that would have eventually burrowed into the skin and entered your vital organs,
killing you. This was our excuse to keep you indoors for this infection was also very contagious. My mother had never heard of this disease before and did not know how to treat it. The Burmese women told her to contact a tribal shaman woman who could cure the infection with a native remedy. The shaman, an old tribeswoman, arrived.
“We had to hold you down on your tummy while she put some white powder on the boils on your bottom; she then placed something in her mouth and began chewing, then puffed on her big cigar until it glowed red. She then dabbed the red hot cigar on each boil and burst them while you screamed the place down. I felt so sorry for you, but the female shaman just laughed and spat some brown liquid on each wound. This quietened you down a bit and you soon fell asleep. My mother said the shaman had been chewing opium.
“One day I was overjoyed to hear that the De Souza family had moved into the end house of our terrace in Tada u. I quickly rushed over to see them and was shocked to learn that since we last saw them at Yu, only three females of the family had survived and they had lost everything. Only Maria De Souza left the house to visit us every day; she was such a lovely girl; it was now our chance to help them find food and give them money.”
I am not sure what misfortunes had befallen the De Souzas since we last saw them, as I was always told to wait outside whenever my grandmother or mother went to visit them. I only ever saw the oldest daughter, Maria; she looked after me sometimes and came foraging with us. I can't ever remember seeing the younger sister or their mother and Mum never mentioned what tragedy had befallen them. Grandmother was happy to repay their generosity and cooked their evening meals, cared for their mother and gave Maria money.
“Many of the internees who arrived in Tada u died of hunger and disease once their money had run out, as they were expected to look after and feed themselves. It was not long after the De Souzas' arrival
that my mother received news from people who worked on the railway and were travelling through Tada u. She heard that her youngest son Victor, my brother, was seriously ill with malaria. She went to see the Japanese commander immediately to get permission to go and bring her son back to Tada u. How my mother got this permission I do not know; perhaps she bribed him as she was still carrying some rubies. Written permission was given in Japanese.
“My mother made the journey to get Victor firstly on foot and then caught a train at Shwebo; many people she knew still worked on the railway. Eventually Mother found Victor and paid porters to carry him on a bamboo stretcher. They also travelled by bullock cart and boat. The return journey was a great strain for a woman of your grandmother's age. She used all the money she had to hire and bribe Burmese officials and porters wherever she could.
“One night a tiger was heard roaring as they sheltered in an old dilapidated hut in a deserted village. It seemed to be approaching their hut. My mother sat with her unconscious son cradling his head. She was sure that, had it not been a dark moonless night, the terrified porters would have deserted her. The roaring stopped at the outskirts of the village. Exhausted she fell asleep. The following morning when they resumed their journey they passed a dead bullock that the tiger had been feeding on during the night.
“The whole journey took over two weeks. It was late one night when Mother arrived back at Tada u with Victor. She was so upset; poor Victor had somehow contracted cholera on the journey and was now dying. Victor died in my mother's arms a few days later. It was the only time I saw my mother weep; her one consolation was that she was able to grant her son's last dying wish: a glass of sugar water.”
I remember Uncle Victor lying on the floor hidden behind a waterproof ground sheet screen. I used to sit just out of reach of his long bony fingers and stare at his shrunken face framed by long blonde hair until he opened his blue-grey eyes; I had never seen such eyes before and they scared me. Victor would call my name as if wanting me to move
closer; I would quickly scuttle away. I had been told never to make contact with Victor. Grandmother and Mother always sat with him when he was conscious. He would say “Mother, get my guns â I will go shooting later.”
“In moments of consciousness he recognized Mother and me. We found out from Victor that after we were separated on the Myitkyina train he went on to Maymyo on his own while Cyril returned to the hills and stayed with the Shans. Lucy returned home to her family. The night my brother Victor died the Banshee was calling from the trees nearby. My mother told the Japanese that Victor had died of malaria.
“The following day Mother wrapped Victor's body in some cheap cotton cloth. He was so thin, only skin and bone; he used to be such a tall strapping young man. We had to bury him quickly. The coffin was only a wooden box; too small for my 6ft 2in brother. Mother struggled to get Victors body into the makeshift coffin. I could not bear to watch. We took Victor straight to that grim, overgrown graveyard in a covered bullock cart. My mother had paid some Burmese men who were grave diggers to have the pit open when we arrived. Maria De Souza, several Christian families and some of the Burmese villagers accompanied us. Halfway to the graveyard we were joined by two Japanese soldiers who were armed; they may have been ordered to keep an eye on us, or perhaps they were Christians. Many of the Japanese soldiers from Nagasaki were Christians. These two soldiers just watched proceedings from a distance.
“When we got to the overgrown graveyard we found to our horror that the grave had been dug in the exact spot where another person had been recently buried. The woman's body was laying not far away, her long luxuriant black hair partly covering her scull. My mother was so angry with the two grave diggers; she called them all kinds of names in Burmese. Some of the Burmese women joined in the insults. The two grave diggers looked sheepish and said that a fresh grave was too hard to dig so they had to dig up the woman's grave because the earth was much softer there. Mother got them to move the woman's body further away but the smell still lingered.
“My mother conducted a short service in Latin and Victor was buried. I just could not help balling my eyes out â what a waste of such a young life. My mother told the grave diggers that she would visit the grave of her son every day, if she found it had been disturbed she would then report them to the Japanese commander. We cleaned around the grave and placed wild flowers on it. It was such a lonely, dry and barren graveyard almost completely surrounded by jungle; it was not a place where a Christian soul could rest in peace.”
I can distinctly remember the dead women the grave diggers had unearthed. Her black hair was long and thick and firmly attached to her skull. Her whole skeleton was still in one piece, held together by tough dark sinews and cartilage. Her mouth was wide open as if she was screaming, her perfect white teeth clearly visible beneath strands of her long black hair. Her bones were still in that black stained stage and her fleshless and naked pelvis could be glimpsed through her rotting longyi. The smell of the woman's earthly remains dominated that sad and humid Burmese afternoon.