Reassessing the Japanese Prisoner of War Experience: The Changi POW Camp, Singapore, 1942-5

Reassessing the Japanese Prisoner of War Experience

Popular perceptions of life in Japanese prisoner of war camps are dominated by images of emaciated figures engaged in slave labour, and badly treated by their captors. This book, based on extensive original research, shows that this view is quite wrong in relation to the large camp at Changi, which was the main POW camp in Singapore. It demonstrates that in Changi the Japanese afforded their captives a high degree of autonomy, that this in turn resulted in a prison camp society that grew and flourished, in contrast to other Japanese POW camps, and that it fostered an independent and combative spirit, and high morale. R. P. W. Havers was educated at Queen Mary and Westfield College, University of London, the London School of Economics, and Pembroke College, Cambridge. He is currently Senior Lecturer in War Studies at the Royal Military Academy, Sandhurst.

Reassessing the Japanese Prisoner of War Experience The Changi POW Camp, Singapore, 1942–5

R. P. W. Havers

First published 2003 by RoutledgeCurzon 11 New Fetter Lane, London EC4P 4EE Simultaneously published in the USA and Canada by RoutledgeCurzon 29 West 35th Street, New York, NY 10001 This edition published in the Taylor & Francis e-Library, 2003. RoutledgeCurzon is an imprint of the Taylor & Francis Group © 2003 R. P. W. Havers Every effort has been made to trace and acknowledge the rightsholders of copyright material included in this work, but this has not been possible in all cases. Please contact the publisher if you have information regarding the copyright position of such material and this will be remedied in future editions. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reprinted or reproduced or utilised in any form or by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publishers. The publisher makes no representation, express or implied, with regard to the accuracy of the information contained in this book and cannot accept any legal responsibility or liability for any errors or omissions that may be made. British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library Library of Congress Cataloging in Publication Havers, R. P. W. (Robin Paul Whittick), 1967– Reassessing the Japanese prisoner of war experience : the Changi POW camp, Singapore, 1942–45 / R. P. W. Havers. p. cm. Includes bibliographical references and index. 1. Changi. 2. World War, 1939–1945—Prisoners and prisons, Japanese. 3. Prisoners of war—United States. 4. Prisoners of war—Great Britain. 5. Prisoners of war—Australia. 6. Prisoners of war—Singapore—Changi. 7. Changi (Singapore)—History. I. Title. D805. C33 H39 2003 940.54′7252′095957—dc21 2002035263 ISBN 0-203-42301-1 Master e-book ISBN

ISBN 0-203-42475-1 (Adobe eReader Format) ISBN 0–7007–1657–2 (Print Edition)

Contents

List of plates Preface List of abbreviations

vi vii ix

1

Life at the Changi prisoner of war camp, Singapore, 1942–5

1

2

Surrender and captivity: 15 February 1942

12

3

Initial POW adjustments to captivity: March–August 1942

35

4

The Selarang barrack square incident

65

5

Changi: September 1942–September 1943, part I

81

6

Changi: September 1942–September 1943, part II

100

7

Return from the railway: September 1943–May 1944

119

8

Changi gaol: May 1944–September 1945

137

9

Conclusions: bowed but not broken

166

Appendices Notes Bibliography Index

178 183 206 213

Plates (between pp. 118 and 119)

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13

Location of the Changi POW camp and gaol Lt.-Gen. A.E. Percival, GOC Malaya British troops at Singapore, pre-the Japanese invasion Barracks at Changi, pre-war Officers signing ‘no-escape’ forms on Selarang square Selarang barrack square POWs confined on the barrack square POWs at Changi at the war’s end POWs from the Manchester Regiment after the Japanese surrender Japanese POWs after the cessation of hostilities The Japanese surrender to the British, 1945 British POWs return home from Changi Programme covers from various shows performed at Changi

Preface

This book is concerned with the experiences of British and Australian prisoners of war (POWs) held at the Changi POW camp in Singapore, 1942–5. It grew out of a very general interest in POWs that I developed as a child. I cannot claim to have known any former POWs personally nor to have had any stories of family members to foster my interest. Instead my imagination was fired by watching the many post-war films on the subject. The best known of course are the two great POW epics, The Bridge on the River Kwai and The Great Escape. From these initial sources I progressed to written accounts of captivity and later to more scholarly interpretations of the experiences of POWs. From this fascination came several broad questions. Was it really as simple to dismiss captivity at the hands of the Japanese as unremittingly brutal and captivity at the hands of the Germans as often harsh but, essentially, correct? These extremes appeared to be the opposing paradigms that governed the interpretation and remembrance of captivity, in the Second World War at least. In many ways these distinctions are not incorrect. To be an Allied POW of the Germans was far preferable to being a POW of the Japanese. I was surprised, then, to ‘discover’ Changi, popularly immortalised in King Rat, James Clavell’s novel of captivity at the hands of the Japanese. A cursory examination of primary source evidence connected with Changi camp appeared to undermine the many assumptions and stereotypes that had grown up since 1945. At Changi, conditions were different and the men held there behaved in a fashion that seemed, to me, more like their counterparts in German camps. There also seemed to be considerable evidence of the evolution of relationships between captor and captive at Changi, relationships that had significant implications for the treatment of the captives. Changi, it seemed, was in many ways a unique experience. This book, then, is essentially an attempt to resolve many of the questions that Changi raised, rather than answered. It details the responses of its POW population to captivity in the aftermath of the surrender of Singapore, in February 1942, and discusses how the POWs at Changi came to terms with being prisoners of the Japanese. Fundamentally, I think, I aim to provide a rather different perspective on the lives of Allied POWs of the Japanese. The book itself demonstrates that traditional representations of Japanese-held POWs, such as those that depict the prisoners

viii Preface only as ‘coolies’, are misplaced as far as Changi was concerned. The men at Changi, while frequently bowed, were never broken and this consideration has ramifications for the manner in which POWs in the Second World War are remembered and represented, especially as Changi is often described in terms that owe more to the appalling conditions on the Burma–Thailand railway. This book also sheds light on the nature of power in captor/captive relationships, as well as providing a new dimension to the Malayan campaign and the fall of Singapore. This project has incurred many debts. The work would never have been completed were it not for the support of the British Academy, which provided me with a three-year Studentship, and that of the Northcote Foundation, which enabled me to spend a prolonged period in Australia as well as to visit Malaya and what is left of the Changi camp itself in Singapore. My thanks also go to my Ph.D. supervisor, Dr Jay Winter, and to Dr Stephen Large, of Yale and Cambridge universities respectively. Also to Professor Hank Nelson of the Australian National University for his advice and encouragement. The staff at the Imperial War Museum and the Australian War Memorial were all unfailingly helpful. Thanks are due similarly to the members of Pembroke College, Cambridge, and especially to my many friends in the Pembroke College Boatclub which provided such a welcome, if time consuming and exhausting diversion, from the demands of writing a Ph.D. The largest thanks go to my family: my wife Alana, my mother Rhona and my aunt Doris whose love and support were constant and unfailing throughout my time as a Ph.D. student and, latterly, during the preparation of the manuscript for publication. My thanks also go to my beloved daughter Alice, too young yet to understand the joy she brings me but without whom my life would be the poorer. I dedicate this book to them. In writing what is essentially a dispassionate and academic text I am only too aware that it is unfashionable and perhaps unprofessional to make personal comments about the subject of my work. Despite this, I wish to dedicate this book also to the many brave men, British, Australian, Indian, Malay and Straits Chinese, who fought to hold Malaya and Singapore and for whom surrender meant not the end of the war but the beginning of an even greater and more inequitable struggle against hunger, disease and neglect.

Abbreviations

AAMC AAOC AASC ADMS AIF AWM CSM DJAG FMSVF GOC HQMC IASC IJA OR RA RAAF RAMC RAOC RASC RCS SSVF

Australian Army Medical Corps Australian Army Ordinance Corps Australian Army Service Corps Assistant Director of Medical Services Australian Imperial Force Australian War Memorial Company Sergeant-Major Deputy Judge Advocate-General Federated Malay States Volunteer Force General Officer Commanding Headquarters Malaya Command Indian Army Service Corps Imperial Japanese Army Other Ranks Royal Artillery Royal Australian Air Force Royal Army Medical Corps Royal Army Ordinance Corps Royal Army Service Corps Royal Corps of Signals Straits Settlements Volunteer Force

1

Life at the Changi Prisoner of War Camp, Singapore, 1942–5

Captain Alan Rogers of the Australian Army was a conscientious diarist throughout his time on active service with the Australian Army Medical Corps. His experiences are meticulously recorded and his feelings about situations and individuals also noted. On Sunday 29 May 1943, Rogers entered the following thoughts about his activities of the previous week: ‘On Wednesday night we were fortunate enough to get tickets to the Palladium and to see “I killed the Count” – a good play and magnificently acted.’1 There are many conclusions that might tentatively be drawn from a brief diary excerpt such as this. Firstly, perhaps, that Captain Rogers was on leave in Sydney or even in London and that his efforts to forget the war, albeit temporarily, were proceeding according to plan. Such assumptions, however, would be wrong. While Captain Rogers was definitely remote from the front line, and the war in general, he was similarly removed from Sydney and London and any of the conventional notions that one might associate with the details of what Rogers himself provides. In fact, Captain Alan Rogers had already seen action with Australian forces in the jungles of Malaya. Rogers had also been present at the siege of the ‘impregnable fortress’ of Singapore during January and February of 1942. Rogers, along with thousands of British, Australian, Indian and other assorted allied personnel, endured the surrender of Singapore, an event famously summed up by Winston Churchill as ‘the worst disaster and largest capitulation in British history’.2 In many ways the surrender was merely the beginning of another struggle against the odds as Rogers spent the following three and half years as a prisoner of the Japanese. Captain Rogers’s diary is not a trite discussion of wartime recreation but rather a record of events that happened inside what has been termed the ‘most notorious prisoner of war camp in Asia’: at Changi on Singapore.3 Such contradictions and incongruities are common place as far as the Changi POW camp is concerned. While the idea that Changi is different from many popular perceptions of it is interesting in itself, the notion that it was very much a unique establishment among Japanese-run POW camps is even harder to reconcile when set against more than fifty years of received wisdom about what a Japanese-held POW had to endure. What is also significant is that these conceptions and paradoxes of Changi were no easier to understand during the war itself. In fact those contradictions and incongruities, exemplified in Rogers’s and many others’ diary accounts, are collectively indicative of what probably ranks as the greatest untold story – and certainly the greatest enigma – of the Second World War.

2 Life at Changi POW camp, Singapore, 1942–5 The perception of life as a POW of the Japanese is simple and well known: that, caught between an uncompromising clash of cultures, Allied POWs were beaten, starved and worked to death by their Japanese captors, for whom the very idea of surrender was abhorrent and alien. To a large extent this apparent simplification is a more than adequate description and few men indeed can claim that their time as guests of the Emperor did not bring them into contact with one or all of the above treatments, if only for short periods. Accounts of captivity at the hands of the Japanese invariably focus upon the larger, well-known manifestations of mistreatment. The Bataan ‘death march’ for one; and, of course, the most famous and enduring image of Japanese inhumanity – the building of the Burma–Thailand railway, frequently referred to simply as the ‘death railway’. Under other circumstances, the construction of this railway across Thailand into southern Burma would have been lauded as a civil engineering triumph. British surveyors had considered a rail line across such country impossible. The Japanese, however, achieved the apparently impossible through sheer force of will and the lives of 12,000 Allied POWs and countless locally recruited labourers, romusha.4 The tragedy of the railway has become the leitmotif of Japanese brutality in the Second World. The central role of the railway in post-war memory was helped in no small part by the release in 1956 of the film of Pierre Boule’s novel, The Bridge on the River Kwai. The film is only loosely based on the book and, indeed, the book itself does not claim to portray real events (in the book, the bridge is not destroyed, unlike in the film where its collapse provides the shattering climax to events). Despite this, the film has come to symbolise the railway itself as well as the manner of POW/Japanese interaction. While the film has helped define the experience of POWs for those who have no firsthand knowledge it is still a representation. Few POWs will testify to the film’s accuracy – conditions on the railway ‘were never that good’ is a frequent comment. It might appear difficult to reconcile material that purports, as Rogers’s diary does, to suggest that life as a POW of the Japanese had another dimension beyond the standard descriptions of overt brutality and suffering. While Changi itself was physically remote, located at the eastern tip of Singapore, from the realities of the railway it is inextricably linked with the events to the north in Burma and Thailand. The reasons for this are twofold. Firstly, the vast majority of the men tasked with working on the railway spent time at the Changi POW camp, either before departing or after the completion of the railway and in many cases, both. Changi was the effective jumping-off point for the POWs who worked on the railway. Secondly, and more controversially and significantly, it would seem impossible that the experiences of Changi were not in some fashion reflected in the behaviour on the railway. The unique role of Changi in shaping the responses to captivity that these men displayed on the railway is highly significant. In the immediate aftermath of the Singapore surrender, the railway was part of an as yet unimagined future for the thousands of British and Australian troops who had been obliged to lay down their arms. Even without any foreknowledge of what lay in store, the prospect of captivity at the hands of the Japanese was, at best, uncertain. Prior to the surrender Allied propaganda had focused on the ‘otherness’

Life at Changi POW camp, Singapore, 1942–5 3 of the Japanese and few men had much of an idea as to what awaited them as prisoners of these ‘Orientals’. The future, in fact, was bleak. The death rates of Allied soldiers captured by the Japanese tell their own depressing story: 36 per cent of Australian POWs held by the Japanese died in captivity. The death rates of British and American servicemen similarly held as POWs by the Japanese are, respectively, 26 per cent and 33 per cent. By way of comparison the death rate of Australians held as POWs by the Germans was just 3 per cent.5 These bare statistics do not tell the whole story and certainly as far as Changi itself is concerned have little real relevance. Changi was different for a host of reasons. It was different, firstly, in the way the Japanese managed it and, most importantly, because of the way the POW population itself responded to the undoubted trials but also the challenges of captivity. This book is an attempt to narrate the remarkable story of what happened at Changi from 1942 to 1945. It seeks, firstly and most importantly, to piece together the events at Changi during this period, to provide the ‘what’ element. Secondly, it discusses the ‘how’; the manner by which the POWs did what they did. Underscoring both of the above considerations is, of course, the ‘why?’; what motivated and compelled men to behave in the fashion they did? The answer to such a question may appear self-evident within the context of a POW camp. Survival, obviously, is the principal aim and the subject that occupies the mind for the greatest amount of time. While this is abundantly true of Changi it is, in itself, not the whole story of what went on there. In fact, this book attempts to examine the experience of captivity from a slightly different perspective than would normally be the case with histories of POWs. It is not only about captives and captors, although these parameters are obviously very apparent. More significantly it is about the blurred lines of demarcation between captor and captive. That is not to say, obviously, that the Japanese were confused about whether they were captives or not. Rather, what was frequently blurred at Changi was where exactly the limits of power lay between the two separate groupings. While the complicated exchanges between the ostensibly powerful and powerless are the subject of many studies, the significance of Changi is that within the context of Japanese/POW relationships these boundaries are generally perceived to be firm and inflexible, to say the least. Not only were they more malleable at Changi than previously thought but the ends to which the comparative freedoms of life at Changi were put had far wider implications.

Descriptions and perceptions of Changi Changi was the principal POW camp in Japanese-held South-East Asia. From Changi men began the arduous journey, by sea or more usually by rail, to work in Japan, Korea, Taiwan and on the Burma–Thailand railway. While the appalling conditions on the railway are well known, and provide the raw materials from which popular perceptions of Japanese held POWs are drawn, the altogether different conditions at Changi have received little attention by comparison. In 1946 the Australian, Rohan Rivett, formerly a journalist, published Behind

4 Life at Changi POW camp, Singapore, 1942–5 Bamboo, one of the first accounts of captivity at the hands of the Japanese. He noted that, ‘At Changi we found a far greater degree of freedom and comfort than we had ever known in Batavia.’6 Kenneth Harrison was captured on the Malayan mainland and held at Kuala Lumpur. He wrote subsequently of his first encounter with Changi and considered that ‘Changi itself was rather incredible to us Pudu [Pudu gaol in Kuala Lumpur] men, and in many ways [it] could have been called a POWs’ paradise.’7 Lt.-Col. E.E. ‘Weary’ Dunlop was captured in Sumatra, some weeks after the surrender at Singapore. Dunlop was eventually sent to work on the railway, where he made his name as an outstandingly resourceful officer and doctor, and subsequently became a celebrated, iconic figure in his native Australia. In common with thousands of other POWs, Dunlop passed through Changi en route to the railway. On 7 January 1943 he arrived at Changi: As we moved on we noticed splendid stone buildings in a beautiful part of the Island filled with British and Australian troops and – an astonishing sight – diggers on guard controlling traffic at points. All these troops are very well dressed, very spick and span, officers with sticks and ever so much saluting.8 Despite testimony such as this, Changi is frequently included in more homogeneous interpretations of the treatment of Japanese-held POWs. On occasion, Changi is described as being peculiarly brutal in its own right, a place where of the ‘nearly 150,000 young men’ captured at the fall of Singapore ‘only one in fifteen was to survive the three and a half long years to V.J. day’.9 This figure is doubly misleading. The number of men captured at Singapore was far less than 150,000, and certainly 50,000 men did not die as POWs.10 Although many men did die, they died on the railway and not while at Changi. Descriptions such as ‘one of the most infamous Japanese POW camps’ owe more to the worst excesses experienced on the railway than to the conditions pertaining at Changi itself and have combined to foster a ‘myth’ of Changi.11 By May 1944, the month the POW hospital moved to Kranji in Singapore and the main camp relocated to Changi gaol, 680 men had died at Changi.12 Although the erosion of the ration scale, over the course of the war, left many prisoners malnourished by September 1945, overt, premeditated Japanese brutality was generally absent at Changi. The only manifestation of coercion, on a large scale, occurred when the Japanese attempted to extract, from the prisoners, a declaration promising not to attempt escape.13 Even this event was comparatively innocuous when set against the conditions on the railway. As is evident from the above quotations, Changi is often mentioned within the extensive literature concerned with POWs. What is significant is that it is frequently misrepresented and that little is known about Changi itself. For these reasons Changi is deserving of recognition and study in its own right. Ironically, while Changi might not be deserving of its apparently fearsome reputation, its role within the POW experience is significant and does need to be examined, with greater emphasis placed on what happened at Changi itself. As Captain Rogers’s diary suggests, life at Changi was almost more outlandish in reality than many of the myths that currently surround it. Even at the time, the experience of Changi

Life at Changi POW camp, Singapore, 1942–5 5 was difficult to reconcile with more traditional images of POW camps. General Percival, the former General Officer Commanding (GOC) Malaya, and the man who signed the Singapore surrender, had difficulty in adequately capturing the nature of Changi. In a post-war letter concerned with events during the war, Percival felt compelled to emphasise this fact: The Changi camp was not like an ordinary POW camp surrounded by barbed wire with a staff and guards of the detaining power. It covered a considerable area of ground, bounded on one side by barbed wire and on the other sides by the sea and was divided into sub areas each under a British commander assisted by a British staff. The whole was under my general administrative control assisted by the staff of headquarters, Malaya Command. We had our own Military police. The Japanese commander had an office at the entrance to the area and issued his instructions through my headquarters.14 The nature of this Japanese control meant that the POWs in Changi were afforded, initially at least, a far greater degree of freedom than they might otherwise have expected as prisoners. This freedom extended to their movements and, crucially, to the manner in which they organised themselves to face the undoubted challenges of captivity. In one sense, this freedom complicated matters as it delayed the realisation of becoming a POW and made the necessary transition that much harder. However, the comparatively gentle introduction to POW life that occurred at Changi helped those captured at Singapore to overcome the alleged stigma of losing Singapore. Changi is deserving of examination for another important reason. The wellknown British illustrator and author, Ronald Searle, was a POW at Changi and worked subsequently in Thailand. His graphic drawings of life on the railway depict thin, emaciated prisoners undertaking hard labour under the auspices of generally fearsome-looking Japanese overseers. Images such as these project and reinforce a particular impression of POWs of the Japanese: that of broken men, obliged to endure the wrath of their captors. POWs of the Japanese are invariably represented as being essentially passive, devoid of any power in a fundamentally unequal relationship between captor and captive. As with any impression, the truth is far more complex. At Changi the POWs were not broken and bowed men who cowed before their captors. By the end of the war they were certainly thin, but right up until the Japanese capitulation the POWs exercised a degree of autonomy and independence that continually frustrated their Japanese captors. The behaviour of POWs at Changi challenges the understanding of the basis of power in captor/captive relationships generally. Specifically, it provides a new dimension to the understanding of the relationship between the Japanese and their prisoners, as well as emphasising the continuity of prisoners’ experiences, irrespective of the conditions under which they were held. The degree of POW autonomy at Changi was partially created by the Japanese themselves. After the Singapore surrender the Japanese were faced with thousands of prisoners and no clear idea of how to deal with them. The immediate response

6 Life at Changi POW camp, Singapore, 1942–5 was to marshal them into the enormous British army base at Changi. Here, the POWs were left largely to their own devices with minimal interference from the Japanese, at least for the early months. This allowed, and obliged, the POWs to organise themselves. This level of autonomy served to foster a strong spirit of independence and esprit de corps among the POWs. These men, after all, had survived a massive defeat at the hands of the Japanese. The prevailing conditions at Changi enabled the POWs to come to terms with their own participation in this event and, by doing so in this manner, to rebuild their self-esteem and military pride, an important element in the struggle that was to follow. The struggle at Changi stands in opposition to that of more conventional ideas of POW camps. Unlike traditional perceptions of POW camps, the struggle was not principally against the enemy who ran the camp, in this case the Japanese. Rather, the POWs at Changi battled against the cumulative implications of a lack of drugs, clothing and a ration scale that was always variable and unpredictable but generally characterised by depreciation. Life at Changi is as much about the internal dynamics of POW relations as it is about the interaction with the Japanese. In addition, the way men responded to imprisonment and deprivation is illustrative of their morale, while fitness is demonstrated by the survival rates of men subsisting on minimalist diets. All these considerations contribute to ideas of national identity. The Anglo-Australian fatality rates on F-force, one of the groups sent from Changi to work on the Burma–Thailand Railway, are respectively 60 per cent and 29 per cent. Figures such as these are frequently cited as evidence of the superior hardiness of the Australian soldier. Similarly, the responses to incarceration, whether by determined attempts to escape or by resigned acceptance, are also perceived to be a gauge of national ‘character’. Paul Keating, the former Australian Premier, wrote in a review of The Burma– Thailand Railway that the trials of Australian POWs in Thailand and their determination to overcome adversity represented ‘the triumph of mateship’.15 For Australians the experience of their troops as POWs represents a very large element of their participation in the Second World War. The significance for Australia as a nation, and in terms of her wartime experience, may be seen in the fact that of the approximately 25,000 Australians killed during the Second World War, 8,000 of these died as POWs. Indeed half of the Australians who died in the war against Japan died as prisoners.16 While the British forces lost nearly double the number of men than did the Australians, these figures become overshadowed when compared to the overall casualty figures suffered by British forces in other campaigns against the Germans or Italians in North Africa and in Western Europe. This is so even when compared to casualties taken whilst fighting the Japanese in Burma. The impact that POWs have had on Australian cultural life may be seen at the Duntroon Military Academy in Canberra. Here stands the ‘Changi Chapel’, one of the original churches constructed by POWs at Changi during the war years and now a national monument dedicated to the memory of all Australian POWs. Hank Nelson, an Australian historian who has written extensively on Australian POWs of the Japanese, considered that ‘Australians are generally aware of what happened to POWs under the Japanese’ and ‘in popular consciousness, Changi and the

Life at Changi POW camp, Singapore, 1942–5 7 Burma–Thailand railway are probably as evocative as Kokoda and Tobruk, and just on a lesser rank than Eureka, Gallipoli, Phar Lap and Bradman’.17 Despite this apparent significance, it is only now that the crucial distinction between the railway and Changi has been rigorously examined.

Objectives of the book The objectives of this book are in a way quite limited. The book is essentially a narrative concerned with detailing what happened at Changi from 1942 to 1945. It does have wider implications, however. The war fought by the Allies against the Japanese was different to the war in Europe – more brutal and more cruel, most certainly a ‘war without mercy’. Questions of race as well as of ideology were to the fore. Changi, of course, felt the effect of this dimension to the conflict most notably through the building of the Burma–Thailand railway. Few POWs at Changi could be under any illusions about their Japanese captors after that experience, nor even after Japanese atrocities in the fighting for Malaya and Singapore. Despite this context it does seem as though the Japanese behaved differently at Changi. There is a certain element of formal correctness (or what passed for such in the Imperial Japanese Army (IJA) about the conduct of Japanese officers in their dealings with the POWs at Changi. Fundamentally, for all the well-documented examples of Japanese cruelty and indifference towards POWs in Changi, and there are many, the Japanese could have behaved in a far worse fashion than they did. The reasons why they did not are likely to be legion, with lack of manpower perhaps being central as well as the fact that the POWs dealt almost exclusively with officers. Many of the worst instances of cruelty on the railway were carried out by comparatively junior NCOs as well as by Korean troops. The outstanding courage of the POW leaders in running a tight and efficient camp would also appear significant. What is more important, perhaps, and what makes the Changi story so intriguing, is the apparent relationship that developed between captive and captor over the course of the war. The development of such a relationship was facilitated by the comparatively permanent nature of the camp and also by the continuity provided by the senior British and Australian officers. The Japanese military authorities, by contrast, changed with some frequency. Fundamentally, however, the Japanese did not resort, with one notable exception, to outright coercion to achieve their aims when they most certainly could have done. Indeed that type of ruthless, brutal and uncompromising manner was exactly how the Japanese behaved throughout the war and across all spheres where their forces were committed. There is much additional research to be done on Japanese sources with this very question in mind. As it stands, the existing literature concerned with the loss of Malaya and the fall of Singapore is voluminous. So, too, is the number of accounts of captivity published by former POWs of the Japanese. The number of academic studies are, by comparison, comparatively few. The vast majority of these accounts, however, discuss Changi in only a cursory fashion. These accounts refer to Changi principally as a backdrop for the better-known and celebrated events of the Burma–Thailand

8 Life at Changi POW camp, Singapore, 1942–5 railway. As we have seen above, the manner in which Changi is described is very particular – authors always stress its ‘uniqueness’. This book is intended to bridge the gap between the literature concerning the fighting in Singapore and the departure for the railway, and in doing so to examine the reality behind the many ‘myths’ of Changi. The book aims to answer a number of questions. Firstly, what did it mean to lose Singapore for those doing the actual fighting? While the fall of Singapore has been discussed exhaustively and the reasons for the surrender examined, little has been written about how it felt to be held directly responsible. This element, however, is not meant as a contribution to the literature concerned with the debacle at Singapore. Rather, it is discussed as a means of gauging the impact such an event had upon the men who subsequently became POWs, and how this event conditioned responses to their fellow POWs, to the Japanese and to captivity in general. The second question addressed is how the POWs themselves responded to the comparative freedoms experienced at Changi and how this either helped or hindered the way in which they endured captivity, both at Changi and on the Burma–Thailand railway. This can be seen from the manner in which the POWs responded to the realisation that resources were finite as well as how the absence of overt Japanese direction, initially at least, led the POW community to organise and develop an internal cohesion. This book also explores the relationship between captor and captive and examines the disparate responses to shared circumstances by the different constituent POW groupings. For example, how Australians differed from the British, officers from other ranks and regular soldiers from volunteers. Centrally, the book differentiates between the experience of life on the railway and life at Changi. It also demonstrates how conditions at Changi influenced the behaviour of men on the railway in a manner that has not previously been explored. All the men who worked on the railway spent time at Changi, some for years, some for only a few weeks. The results of these investigations challenge traditional representations of POWs of the Japanese as powerless. It will be seen that, at Changi at least, the relationship between captor and captive was more complicated and the division of power far less demarcated than has previously been realised. In examining these issues, this study contributes to a more detailed historical understanding of the experiences of Far Eastern POWs during the war and thereby to the history of the Second World War. It also sheds light on social relations and group identities within prison camps in general, as well as providing an alternative analysis against which the popular perceptions of life as a Japanese POW can be reconciled. While the First World War has been the subject of exhaustive study from a cultural history perspective, little has been written on the Second World War in this context. After more than fifty years the time would now appear to be propitious for a cultural examination of the years 1939–45; such an investigation prompts a reappraisal of many of the cultural myths that still abound regarding Far Eastern POWs. The implications of what went on at Changi also have a significant local dimension in terms of how Singaporeans remember their wartime experiences. The work of Kevin Blackburn, among others, has explored how sites such

Life at Changi POW camp, Singapore, 1942–5 9 as Changi have helped construct an idea of what it means to be a ‘Singaporean’, crucially important for the national identity of such a young state.18 Essentially, this book examines the following: it seeks to explore the effect of the fall of Singapore on the men who had done the actual fighting and who then became the initial inmates, and by far the largest grouping, of the fledgling Changi POW camp. In addition the book is concerned with how the POWs at Changi responded to what amounted to a semi-autonomous status and how this impact was manifested in the subtle (and often none too subtle) relations between captive and captor. The book is therefore concerned to some extent with what may best be described as the nature of power in captor/captive relationships generally and specifically the way in which the Japanese responded to their captives’ demands. The POWs at Changi, although apparently devoid of power, were in fact able to assert their own identity and independence despite being prisoners and despite increasing Japanese attempts to prevent them from doing so. These elements of life at Changi, it is argued, set it apart from the more general experiences of POWs of the Japanese. Changi and this book therefore provide a fundamentally new perspective on life as a Japanese-held POW. This experience is significant in that it stands firmly in opposition to many, indeed most, of the traditional representations of what life as a POW of the Japanese amounted to.

Notes on sources This book draws on a variety of sources: official government documents on Changi held at the Public Record Office at Kew, London and at the Australian War Memorial in Canberra. It also utilises the rich amount of ‘official’ documentation produced by the POWs themselves at Changi, detailing the extent of the internal POW administration. It also draws extensively on the large number of contemporary, unpublished diary accounts of life at Changi, held in the Imperial War Museum and the Australian War Memorial. These diary accounts are frequently at variance with official opinion and are therefore invaluable in providing a new and more personal perspective on events, at the level of the men on the ground. They are also useful in providing an indication as to what the men themselves felt about particular events. While senior officers made detailed post-war reports and individual units also kept records, the most effective way of penetrating the veil that descended on Singapore in the aftermath of the surrender is by examining such diaries. These, too, have the benefit of providing a more detailed history in terms of how individuals viewed events. While there are many such surviving accounts, in Britain and Australia, it is impossible to gauge how representative these are of the many men who kept diaries. For example, it is unclear whether the number of diaries kept by officers, and which are available in archives, are indicative of the proportion of officers who maintained written records at the time. One of the problems with this project was the number of men who kept diaries throughout the entire duration of their captivity. Increasing pressures worked against men doing just this; a shortage of paper was one practical obstacle as well as the constant threat of the nominal

10 Life at Changi POW camp, Singapore, 1942–5 Japanese punishment for keeping ‘secret’ diaries – death. While the early months and years of captivity are well covered by innumerable diary accounts that span all elements of the Changi population (British, Australian, officers and men), by the latter stages of the war, judging by those that have survived, regular diarists were few in number. Our knowledge of the last year at Changi is based, therefore, on diaries written almost exclusively by officers, although this too is in itself a reflection of the surfeit of officers at Changi and says much about the range of duties which they were compelled to fulfil. Diary accounts also need to be considered carefully. As Joan Beaumont, a historian of POWs, observed: ‘there is always a “you” to whom a diary is addressed’, and thus personal motives for writing, over and above detailing what happened, need to be kept in mind.19 As well as contemporary diaries, much POW documentation has survived, including hundreds of ‘orders’ issued by the POW authorities, instructing their men on a vast array of issues. These are invaluable, firstly, in determining what was an issue for the POWs, and when, as well as demonstrating how POW initiatives were manifested in all areas of daily life. They also show the extent of the POW bureaucracy and organisation and demonstrate the degree to which Changi was a camp within a camp, as well as providing evidence of the level to which the POWs were operating without reference to the Japanese. Although there have been innumerable books published by POWs about their experiences there have been surprisingly few that discuss Changi in any other context than the railway. The one exception is The Story of Changi, written by Captain David Nelson, a volunteer officer. Nelson maintained extensive records of all the men who arrived and departed Changi between 1942 and 1945 in his capacity as head of the Bureau of Record and Inquiry. His work proved a useful accompaniment in writing this book as Nelson’s preoccupations were frequently different to the greater proportion of his comrades. This book is primarily concerned with what the POWs themselves did as prisoners and to that end does not draw on primary Japanese sources. The Japanese figure only in as far as their actions impinged upon the POWs. Therefore, while these men were prisoners of the Japanese, this work is not about Japanese policy towards POWs, and it is not about what the Japanese themselves thought about their captives, except where such opinions had a direct bearing on the treatment of prisoners. As stated above this is very much an unexplored area of investigation, and the cultural barriers to such work still seem to be formidable.

A brief history of Changi On 15 February 1942, the British forces at Singapore surrendered to the Japanese, a mere 70 days after the Japanese invasion of Malaya. Unprepared to deal with so many POWs, the Japanese simply ordered all British personnel to proceed, en masse, to Changi, the large British Army complex east of Changi gaol. Pre-war, Changi had been considered ‘one of the most modern and best equipped military bases anywhere in the world’, and despite suffering repeated artillery bombardment during the battle for Singapore island was largely unscathed.20 Changi’s

Life at Changi POW camp, Singapore, 1942–5 11 incarnation as a POW camp lasted from February 1942 to May 1944 and was characterised as much by the fluidity of its boundaries as by its transitory and diverse population. In the immediate aftermath of the surrender, in February 1942, Changi contained 45,562 POWs, mainly British and Australian but later joined by Dutch troops after the fall of the Dutch East Indies. By October, the number of POWs had fallen to 15,744 and by June 1943 just 5,359 remained, the lowest total for the whole war.21 The number of men at Changi ebbed and flowed in proportion to Japanese demands for labour and, initially, large numbers were employed on working parties in Singapore town. Later, as Japanese requirements grew larger, groups known as ‘Forces’ were despatched to a variety of destinations that included Taiwan, Japan and, of course, the Burma–Thailand railway which required huge numbers of POWs.22 Changi served as a transit camp and prisoners captured in Java and Sumatra were housed there temporarily, spending varying lengths of time before moving on. By the summer of 1943 the labour requirements of the railway were such that the remaining men at Changi occupied just a few barrack buildings. With the return of many men from Thailand and Burma, in autumn 1943, together with Japanese demands on the existing space for their own personnel, a reappraisal of the camp housing situation was required.23 In May 1944 the entire POW body moved into Changi gaol, displacing the civilian internees held there since the British surrender. Changi gaol proved to be a new beginning for the POWs as they were obliged to adjust to new surroundings and a new way of life. It was at the gaol that the POWs were finally liberated in August/ September 1945.

2

Surrender and captivity: 15 February 1942

This chapter is concerned with the experiences of British and Australian troops in the aftermath of the Singapore surrender. It seeks to identify the principal concerns and preoccupations that accompanied these men into Changi and to explore how these considerations shaped their initial responses to captivity. In examining this transition period, it was apparent that the nature of the Malayan campaign and the Singapore surrender were in fact inextricably linked to the manner in which the original POWs responded to their new lives as captives of the Japanese. It was also evident that the behaviour of these men as prisoners appeared to be at odds with what might be expected of soldiers who had been defeated so conclusively. In exploring the events that led to the surrender it became obvious that conventional accounts of the fighting, such as those that stressed poor leadership and a lack of fighting spirit amongst the defenders, were insufficient to explain how the participants themselves viewed the capitulation and their role within it. It was also clear that these residual feelings about the capitulation had, in turn, translated directly into the prisoners’ comparatively confident and assertive actions as newly captured POWs. While this can be partly explained by the peculiar conditions pertaining at Changi, the absence of either Japanese guards or direction being obviously significant, contemporary diary accounts written by soldiers captured at Singapore demonstrate that many men felt that the defeat was not representative of their abilities as soldiers. Many men considered that the abrupt surrender removed the opportunity of finally proving themselves against the Japanese in a decisive battle for the island. This notion may seem unlikely, given the many military reverses experienced by the British, Australian and Indian forces prior to the capitulation. However, this idea appears to have been widespread amongst men taken prisoner at Singapore and, irrespective of the veracity of some of their assertions, this belief, however misguided or insubstantial in itself, would appear to have conditioned their responses to captivity to a significant extent. This chapter will first explore the impact of the surrender and then move on to examine the initial adjustments to captivity.

The fall of Singapore On 15 February 1942 the British Crown Colony of Singapore fell to the Japanese. The ramifications of the defeat were enormous. The drubbing handed out by the

Surrender and captivity: 15 February 1942 13 Japanese presaged the eventual British withdrawal from the Far East and detrimentally affected British relations with her antipodean dominions.1 Colonel Masanobu Tsuji, a Japanese officer involved in the campaign, wrote that ‘the reduction of Singapore was indeed the hinge of fate for the peoples of Asia.’2 European domination in South-East Asia was cruelly exposed by the Japanese, and with the collapse of Singapore the main symbol of British pre-eminence in the Far East fell. The loss and, crucially, the manner of the loss of Britain’s Malayan colonies and the capitulation of Singapore have since been the subject of extensive study and speculation.3 Singapore had been seen as a vital strategic and commercial outpost ever since 1819 when Sir Stamford Raffles, through an arrangement with the Sultan of Johore, had obtained the island. The political significance of maintaining the integrity of Singapore was deemed a vital Imperial priority. During the First World War the British position in the region was secured by the successful operation of the 1905 Anglo-Japanese treaty. This allowed a concentration of British forces in Home and Mediterranean waters. The British decision to replace this alliance in favour of a closer association with the United States meant that consideration had to be given to improved security in the Far East.4 Subsequent planning was geared towards combating the most likely threat to British interests in the region: Japan. The obvious solution to these concerns was the establishment and maintenance of a major fleet based permanently in the Far East. This aim would first require a suitable base. On 16 June 1921 the Cabinet approved, in principal, the recommendation of the Committee for Imperial Defence (CID), to establish a substantial naval base at Singapore, having first discounted alternative sites in Ceylon, Hong Kong and Sydney.5 However, fiscal considerations, the assumption that a major war was unlikely for at least a decade, and the restrictions of the Washington naval treaty effectively ruled out the possibility of a separate Far Eastern fleet.6 This combination of factors led to the ‘main fleet to Singapore’ stratagem. This demanded that a substantial force of Royal Naval vessels be sent to Singapore in time of international crisis. The length of time that this would take became known as ‘the period before relief’ and became subject to constant reappraisal after 1939. ‘Before relief’ was considered to be circa seventy days steaming in 1937 and would have been similar in 1922.7 This period governed the length of time that the Singapore garrison was required to hold out against attack and in turn was directly linked to the eventual levels of defence provided for the island itself. A CID committee under Lord Curzon pondered the best way to provide adequate land defence. Intense inter-service rivalry over whether this defence should be based on air power, proposed by the RAF, was resolved in favour of the navy and army when large guns were installed on the island.8 The notion that the Malayan jungle, and therefore the northerly approaches to Singapore, was impenetrable still governed planning.9 Despite a myriad of myth and contradiction concerning the Singapore defence, notably that the shore batteries could only direct their fire out to sea, the route of the invading Japanese, down through the allegedly ‘impenetrable’ jungle and rubber of Malaya, had, in fact, been accurately predicted. In 1925 General Sir

14 Surrender and captivity: 15 February 1942 Theodore Fraser, the GOC Singapore, considered that the likelihood of a Japanese advance through Malaya was high. Later, an Appreciation of the Far East Situation was prepared by the future GOC Malaya, Lt.-General Percival.10 This was conducted under the auspices of the then GOC Malaya, Major-General William Dobbie and presented to the Chiefs of Staff in 1937.11 Both strategic assessments guessed at the eventual Japanese route and made consequent recommendations in terms of the men and material that would be required to forestall such an attack. However, very little interest had been taken at the necessary levels. General Dobbie also concluded that the monsoon period would not deter a seaborne invasion, as had been previously thought. In fact, he asserted, the period of monsoon, lasting from October–March, would prove the most propitious time to mount an invasion as the inclement weather was likely to restrict the use of air power but not be sufficiently injurious to prohibit the landing of troops from transports anchored off-shore.12 The Japanese attacked Malaya on 8 December 1941, simultaneously launching attacks on Pearl Harbor, Thailand and Hong Kong. Despite initial RAF air sorties of modest success, the Japanese established themselves ashore at Singora and Patani in Thailand and at Kota Bharu in northern Malaya.13 The consistent retreat that characterised the ensuing British strategy in Malaya was designed to ensure that British forces were not destroyed but instead retained their essential integrity as fighting units so that they might still form part of the long-range defence of Singapore itself.14 The initial British plan, operation ‘Matador’, involved an advance into neutral Thailand in order to forestall the Japanese advance by securing the narrow Isthmus of Kra. This initiative required 24 hours’ notice, before any Japanese landing, to ensure maximum success. Political fears over the violation of Thai neutrality resulted in indecision until the Japanese invasion force was off the Thai coast. By the time the true aim of this force was apparent, rather than a bluff designed to prompt a British violation of Thai neutrality, it was too late. Percival was faced with either committing his 11th Indian Division to meet the invaders from Singora, in unfavourable country, or to stay put. He decided to face the Japanese from the prepared positions already occupied by the Indian Division, and thus Matador was never executed.15 The failure of British air power to prevent the landing of Japanese troops, and the heavy losses incurred at the hands of Japanese air attacks on RAF airfields, resulted in the decision to conserve the remainder for the defence of the naval base and for relief convoys. This effectively removed any air support from the army fighting in Malaya itself.16 By 12 December Allied forces had begun a fighting withdrawal down through Malaya, pausing at the Slim River only to be decisively defeated by Japanese forces equipped with tanks. Despite some successful counter-attacks and ambushes, notably by the Australian Imperial Forces at Gemas, the Allied formations were outfought and outmanoeuvred by experienced Japanese troops. The Japanese were generally operating without the handicap of a heavy load of personal equipment, unlike their opponents, and moving in groups small enough to infiltrate behind the prepared Allied positions. Lord Strabolgi, writing in 1942, considered that ‘British soldiers . . . who had not long been in the

Surrender and captivity: 15 February 1942 15 country, could not identify an apparently harmless Malay farmer or fisherman who in reality was a disguised Japanese trooper.’17 The Japanese also made extensive use of bicycles and employed tanks. The British forces, by way of contrast, had no tanks at all in the whole of the Malayan peninsula in the misguided belief that the terrain was unsuitable.18 In England General Sir Alan Brooke (later Field Marshal Lord Alanbrooke) was similarly doubtful that Singapore could be held. On 15 December 1941, barely a week after the Japanese landing, he wrote: ‘I doubt whether Hong Kong will hold out a fortnight and Malaya for a month.’19 Brooke did not take up the post of Chief of the Imperial General Staff until 25 December 1942, but ‘virtually took over from [Dill] on 1 December’.20 On 17 December 1941 he again confided to his diary his thoughts on the situation in the Far East, this time commenting: ‘Personally I do not feel that there is much hope of saving Singapore.’21

The surrender of Singapore After a rapid advance down the Malayan mainland, the Japanese made their long-expected assault on Singapore island on 8 February 1942. The crossing of the Straits of Johore was, in many respects, the crucial psychological blow from which the British forces seemed unable to recover. The conceptual idea of Singapore as a fortress, as distinct from the reality that it was all to obviously woefully inadequate, was conclusively breached by the Japanese landings. In effect the integrity of the British position on the island was the ‘centre of gravity’ of the British defensive arrangement.22 The penetration of this imaginary ideal, as well as the literal penetration, meant that the British defenders were now in some considerable trouble unless the will to resist could somehow be conjured up in time. It seems that there was such a determination among many men, but it was not sufficiently harnessed and was not as apparent as it might have been from the British Command. Once the Japanese were ashore, the Allied defenders fell back as the Japanese advanced relentlessly; eventually a cease-fire was agreed for 20.30 hours on 15 February 1942. Signaller L. Popham, Royal Corps of Signals, wrote daily notes as the last days passed. On 13 February he commented: [we] heard that we were losing ground on the island, lack of airforce and machines and no navy. Japanese landings all over Malaya coast, troops fighting desperately and orders are that all men must fight to the last, but organisation is very bad.23 A day later Popham wrote: ‘men still fighting with their backs up against the wall, no thought of evacuation, although we are heavily handicapped . . . death rate of civilians terrific’.24 On 15 February Popham ‘heard the fateful news that Singapore had no alternative but to capitulate’. Despite the tone of his diary entries and the sense of inevitable collapse that they suggest, Popham, and many other soldiers present at the fall of Singapore, also wrote of the shock that they felt when news of the final

16 Surrender and captivity: 15 February 1942 surrender was confirmed. Popham himself noted this paradox when he wrote, ‘everyone astounded although we knew from the start that without Air and Naval support we had little chance’.25 A.A. Morris recalled that ‘it was about 1400 hrs that I first heard about [the] capitulation: of course I didn’t believe it, and thought it was 5th column work’.26 Private C. Carpenter, serving with the 5th Battalion, Royal Norfolk Regiment, was also confused by the turn of events. He commented that ‘having recovered from the shock of the surrender, we looked at each other in complete amazement, one minute we were prepared to fight to the end, the next we were told to cease fire and lay down our arms’.27 The diary of Sergeant Alf Montfort, an Australian, contains broadly similar sentiments: Sun. 15th Feb. Dive bombed and shelled, rumour that peace terms are being discussed. Supposed to be peace terms signed at 4pm, we don’t believe these rumours but by 7.30 it seemed right and at 8.20pm we surrendered unconditionally, and all firing ceased.28 Montfort’s compatriot, Sergeant James Roxburgh, 2/30th Battalion AIF, noted the following day that ‘the order to lay down arms came through at 8.30pm last night’.29 James Moore, a gunner with the 2/10 Field Regiment, AIF, wrote: 15–2–42 was certainly a surprise to us a capitulation never entered our heads. We thought that things weren’t going too well the thought of all of us was a complete evacuation (if it should come to that). The first whisper came to us about 11.30am of course we wouldn’t have anything to do with it, the boys on the guns went mad as they hadn’t fired a shot that day, anyway they were ready to join the infantry. Then we got a word from HQ that it was all a rumour, but later on about 3pm it happened all right.30 Similarly Staff Sergeant E.W. Burrey, another Australian, also recalled the significance of Sunday 15 February: [It was a day] I shall never forget. Dive-bombed, machine-gunned and shelled continuously from daybreak until about 5pm when firing almost ceased . . . we guessed that the end was near. I was not surprised though a little stunned when I heard at 8.30pm of our unconditional surrender. Impossible to describe my feelings after hearing the news. All I remember is polishing off a bottle of whisky in fine style . . .31 Col. D.A.S. Houghton, a Royal Artillery officer serving with the Indian Army, recorded how the men under his command reacted when they heard the news: When we were told about the capitulation my chaps were furious and wanted to go on fighting. One troop led by their troop commander armed themselves with rifles and ammo. and drove down to the docks as a formed body intent on getting to Sumatra and carrying on there. But I had to follow them and tell

Surrender and captivity: 15 February 1942 17 them that chances were very slender for large parties and the CO wanted us all to stick together.32 The unit War Diary of the 2nd Battalion, The Cambridgeshire Regiment records that even on the day of the surrender the men were engaged in ‘wiring and improving defences’, as well as meeting enemy air activity with ‘retaliating fire at every opportunity’.33 When the surrender of Singapore was announced, one of the most common reactions was that of surprise. This is apparent in diary accounts written by men of all ranks, nationalities and formations involved at the siege of Singapore. What is curious is that diarists frequently record such responses whilst simultaneously noting the futility and inevitability of their attempts to fight on against what appeared, at the time, to be overwhelming odds. The origins of this surprise may, in part, be rooted in a genuine and dogged adherence to the belief that Singapore was indeed the fortress claimed by British propaganda, and that so strong was this idea that it retained its force despite the obvious firsthand evidence to the contrary. As for a more general misinterpretation of their plight, it would seem, from the diary evidence available, that the defenders of Singapore were not deluded in their appreciation of the desperate military situation. They did not hold out any realistic hope that a miracle would occur, and that the Japanese would be defeated after all, nor that an evacuation would take place, even though the idea of evacuation had the comparatively recent Dunkirk experience to draw on and, even more poignantly for the Australian troops, that of the Gallipoli expedition. Bombardier Parry, commenting on the progression of events, was certainly under no illusions. He wrote on 15 February: ‘then what we knew must happen, Cease fire!’34 Brigadier E.W. Goodman, Indian Army, writing of the cessation of hostilities on 15 February, considered that it was ‘the end of 70 days of a most inglorious campaign’.35 Brigadier Goodman’s statement suggests that the dissatisfaction at the events of the previous months was a contemporary feeling, one apparent immediately after the surrender was made known, and not something that manifested itself later when the men had time to reflect on events, post-combat. Lt. J. Richardson commented in similar terms, and thought it a ‘dreadful capitulation! Unconditional surrender: Singapore fallen.’ Richardson, like many men, was aware of the wider implications of the British defeat. He pondered ‘I wonder what London and the remainder of the world think now of S’pore fortress. Impregnable!’36 Sergeant Alec Hodgson, serving with the Royal Australian Engineers, was ordered to take his men and join the battle as infantrymen late on 15 February. He wrote on 16 February, that: Surrender, and from my narrow view a shameful surrender. Apparently, and I this I feel intensely, even while I was trying to build the chaps up to tackle anything the armistice began at 7.30pm last night, and we didn’t know ’til about 10.30, probably the last unit to learn . . . feeling of utter disgust and shame. never saw a Jap., never fired a shot and there are thousands like us.37

18 Surrender and captivity: 15 February 1942 In the light of these responses, the obvious question to be considered is whether they are atypical for a losing army of any nationality? The answer is intricately bound up in the interplay of tactics, the effect of propaganda and of expectation versus actual performance, and in the fact that the surrender of Singapore was felt to be a huge disaster. While the epithet ‘the worst disaster in British military history’ has become synonymous with the Singapore surrender, the extent to which it was contemporary is unclear. Keith Wilson, who served with the 8th Division Signals, AIF, claimed, in his published account of captivity at Changi, to have heard something similar over the wireless. On 15 February he remembered that ‘the BBC announcer stated that this was one of the greatest defeats ever suffered by the British Army, an even greater defeat than Dunkirk’.38 All these factors conspired to exaggerate the impact of the loss of Singapore, not upon those directing the war in London but upon those involved in the fighting, the men who had lost the ‘impregnable fortress’. These considerations would remain significant for the surrendered Allied forces as they became POWs and began their adjustments to captivity. The pattern of retreat, brief action and retreat fought down through the length of the Malayan peninsula was undertaken in pursuit of a specific strategy, the maintenance of the integrity of British forces in Malaya. Importantly for those involved in the fighting on the mainland was the tacit belief that a stand would inevitably be made. Even when mauled British, Australian and Indian troops reached the island of Singapore itself and found it to be far less of a fortress than they had been led to believe – by the army itself and by British propaganda – the suitability and inevitability of Singapore being a place of reckoning was undiminished: Singapore was an eminently defensible position, given adequate preparation, and, secondly, there was by now nowhere left to retreat to. Bombardier Parry appreciated this situation and wrote: ‘well all I’ve done this war seems to have been “run out of land”. If there had been no sea I suppose the 88th would have made a last ditch stand at the South Pole!’39 General Sir Archibald Wavell, Supreme Commander of ABDA (American, British, Dutch, Australian) Command, also made this point in early February when he said that ‘We have now reached an area where we cannot be constantly outflanked and where the enemy cannot exploit his superior mobility.’ 40 Lionel Wigmore, the official Australian war historian, noted that many men lost heart when they witnessed the destruction of naval facilities in Singapore, carried out by the British in order to deny them to the Japanese, and believed that this act undermined moral still further as ‘it removed the reason for being in Singapore in the first place’.41 In fact Wigmore’s comments, while plausible, actually misinterpret the situation during the final days of the siege. The destruction of the naval base merely confirmed the impending climax of the war in Malaya, it did not make it irrelevant and it did not undermine the determination of the defenders to reach a decisive conclusion. The Allied forces at Singapore were not short of encouragement to continue the struggle. It came in spades in the form of highly emotive and inflammatory language. General Wavell attempted to rally the Singapore defenders, asserting

Surrender and captivity: 15 February 1942 19 that ‘We are in a similar position to the original BEF which stopped the Germans and saved Europe at the first battle of Ypres. We must show ourselves worthy successors of them and save Asia by halting the Japanese.’42 Later, Churchill urged the defenders of Singapore to fight on: There must at this stage be no thought of saving the troops or sparing the population. The battle must be fought to the bitter end at all costs . . . Commanders and senior officers should die with their troops. The honour of the British Empire and of the British Army is at stake.43 On the same day General Wavell issued a similar exhortation, declaring that ‘our whole fighting reputation is at stake and the honour of the British Empire . . . it will be disgraceful if we yield our boasted fortress of Singapore to inferior enemy forces . . . There must be no question or thought of surrender. Every unit must fight it out to the end.’44 Ironically, the responses to such as Wavell’s ‘last man, last bullet’ order of the day are generally dismissive. Lt. Richardson, for example, commented that it was ‘no good! The end of this show was foreordained even before it started.’45 Captain Dickson thought ‘Wavell’s order of the day a stinker’.46 Bombardier Parry wrote that ‘Wavell made a hellova [sic] speech, about last round, last man stuff. He wants to try it some time.’47 Instead, it would seem that the idea of repaying the Japanese, in kind, for the humiliations and reversals suffered on the mainland was what had been such an important constituent element in what remained of the men’s morale. It was the absence of some positive action to satisfy this need that gave the surrender at Singapore so significant an edge for those involved. The evidence of contemporary accounts and diaries suggests that the most important consideration for the erstwhile defenders of Singapore was that no meaningful stand was felt to have been made. For the men doing the fighting, the most significant factor underlying the surrender, and their immediate responses to it, was not that Malaya and Singapore were lost, as this was only too obvious, nor that they had been lost so decisively and to the ‘inferior’ Japanese, although these, too, were obviously important considerations. Instead, the surrender conclusively destroyed any chance that the Allied forces still had of undergoing a redemptive act of some description. The distinction here is not between the polar opposites of victory and defeat, nor even between victory and surrender, but rather the less obvious but no less important distinction between defeat and surrender. The capitulation removed the opportunity to do something by way of opposing the inevitable Japanese victory. In a few short months those taken prisoner at Singapore would be compelled to sign pledges to the effect that they would not try to escape. During the prolonged resistance to these Japanese demands, Lt.-Col. Holmes, by then the senior British officer at Changi POW camp, made an interesting comment about the capitulation: Although our Army on Singapore Island was compelled to surrender . . . our troops were prepared to fight to the last. But they were ordered to lay down their arms and had no choice but to do so.48

20 Surrender and captivity: 15 February 1942 Irrespective of any real desire amongst the troops actually to fight to the bitter end, potentially it would seem that it was the absence of a some form of closure that rendered the Singapore surrender so unsatisfactory for the many participants. Ultimately, these complex perceptions of degrees of surrender and defeat served more significant purposes for the men concerned. Firstly, they masked underlying feelings about under-performance in the campaign itself, the stuff from which standard stories about the war in Malaya are constructed. Secondly, and perhaps more importantly, they allowed the surrender and the ‘disaster’ that it confirmed to be made more bearable by conceding that something would have been done had the island of Singapore not been surrendered. Obviously the idea that the army in Malaya collectively, and wholeheartedly, embraced a stand such as Wavell and Churchill envisaged is unrealistic, and the opinions cited above would seem to support this. However, the fact that both Wavell and Churchill had issued orders along such lines served only to reinforce the weight of expectation upon the defenders and emphasised that a last stand was indeed to be the culmination of the battle for Singapore. For most men the idea that the humiliations experienced at the hands of the Japanese could be repaid in some unspecified way was probably the extent to which they really conceived of a fight to ‘the bitter end’. On 16 February, a day after the surrender, Lt. W.R. Young wrote that he ‘sat around all day at the coolie quarters in Tiong Bahru road where we finished up collecting stuff and gazing dejectedly at the ground most of the time. It was humiliating for us . . .49 Reverend Chambers noted in a letter home, dated 15 February 1942, that capitulation ‘was a strange feeling. We were not beaten, four lads nearly flew at me when I told them. Everyone was angry – and relieved.’50 His experiences and opinions are not uncommon. Although the battle was lost, it did at least mean that those concerned would live a little longer; they had survived their part of the war. The full realisation of what they had been a part of was yet to sink in, now the complex task of coming to terms with events would begin, firstly by seeking to apportion blame. Major Gillies confided to his diary: ‘I can’t bring myself to call it the surrender’, even when writing some months later.51 The aftermath of the Singapore surrender brought innumerable accusations and counter-claims from those seeking both to account for the disaster and to distribute blame. At the level of the men on the ground, however, the idea of blaming others may be seen to have a dual significance. It served to alleviate general feelings of guilt, but it was also frequently the vehicle by which to demonstrate the effectiveness of the diarists’ own unit or formation in the face of inadequacies exhibited by those on all sides. Even the Reverend Chambers, a non-combatant, asserted that the battle had not been a completely one-sided affair, and although ‘the Union Jack had been dragged down into the dust . . . I will say one thing, they paid bloody dear for that island. Their dead and wounded numbered thousands, so don’t anyone who was not there get the idea that it was handed to them on a plate.’52 Major D.W. Gillies’s diary reflects these concerns: I don’t propose to say very much about what has happened here – that can keep – but you can take it for read that we didn’t surrender. The Division, once

Surrender and captivity: 15 February 1942 21 it got out of the clutches of high command here did extremely well, and had any foresight been used by the same higher command, the story would have had a very different ending, particularly if such Air Force as was here had one tenth of the guts and ability of the RAF as we know it at home.53 Gillies’s underlining of the ‘we’, in a handwritten diary, is obviously significant. It reinforces the notion that the surrender did not represent either the whole story of the war in Malaya nor a final judgement upon the Malayan Army. Major Gillies’s comments allude to a level upon which individual participation, as a combatant, might be judged to have been both a competent performance and to have been a success, even though it is placed within the context of defeat as a whole. For these men the surrender was emphatically not an absolute judgement on their own performance, but might be perceived as such when considering the actions of others. It is this misperception, as they saw it, that so many diarists attempted to address. Captain R.M. Horner, part of the ill-fated British 18th Division, had his own theories: I am convinced that once it was obvious that we couldn’t hold the Japs. upcountry, it had been decided to leave Singapore to its fate but this had caused such an outcry in the USA and Australia that, for the sake of appearances, they had sent in reinforcements (our Div. and the Indian troops who came out with us) . . . in fact to put it in a nutshell, we were being sacrificed to placate public opinion.54 While these concerns may be seen to have a degree of validity, given the levels of disorganisation and poor planning that underpinned British activities in Malaya and Singapore, they must also be considered within the context in which they were made. These comments serve to divert much of the blame for what happened away from those who actually did the fighting and onto a less specific body with whom lies the ‘real blame’. Col. G.H. Shorland, reflecting on the capitulation a month after the event, is clearer about apportioning the blame for what had happened: One month seems long enough for impressions to form and on them to base a sound view of events. On one side the bewilderment and bitterness of the first days has been healed by time and subsequent events. On the other, the events, often pretty trivial, and the reaction to all of them as individuals, is so lost in the all engulfing boredom of captivity . . . the first reaction on the night of 15 Feb. was one of thankfulness that the noise of battle had ceased. The full sense of disgrace and shame and the arguments and reasons with which all supported their story of the debacle and its causes had not begun. People were too tired. Instead of arguing and bemoaning they slept, forgetting the errors of the past; the disgrace of the present and the hazards of the future.55 Major-General M.B. Beckwith-Smith, GOC 18th Division and later to die as a POW on Taiwan, delivered the following supportive message to his troops on the day of the surrender:

22 Surrender and captivity: 15 February 1942 No commander has ever led a happier or more loyal team into battle. The division was sent into a theatre of war for which it was neither trained nor equipped, to fight a cunning and clever enemy who was on the crest of a wave. It was sent to fight a battle that was already lost and has passed troops whose morale had been badly shaken. It had to endure long periods of hardship, without food and rest. It fought with great courage and tenacity and inflicted heavy losses on the enemy. Every man can and I know will rightly uphold his head knowing that he has upheld the best traditions of the British Army. During the 18 months that I have been privileged to command the division at home and overseas, it has carried out every varied and exacting task it has been called to undertake and now I can only dedicate the rest of my life to helping in any way I can the officers, Warrant Officers, NCOs and men of the 18th Div. God bless you all and bring you safely home when victory is finally ours, with knowledge that you have played your part in the achievement.56 Beckwith-Smith’s aim in delivering this speech is clear. He is determined to praise the efforts of his men while at the same demonstrating to them that the general direction of events was very much out of their hands. By doing this, the degree to which a specific blame could be attached to them was moderated and the idea of each individual unit doing its best whilst all around lesser men are giving up is quite common. Beckwith-Smith’s British 18th Division, less the 53rd Brigade which had seen action on the mainland, did not arrive in Singapore until early February 1942. These men had at least slightly more justification than other units in seeking to apportion blame elsewhere.57 As well as poor planning, the fighting in Singapore was bedevilled by innumerable stories of desertion and looting. Lt. Alastair Mackenzie, writing during the 1980s from notes in a contemporary journal, said: We did not really get involved in the battle until late on Tuesday 10th February when stragglers from the AIF and 44 Indian division passed through our lines. The Malays behaved well, though what their inner thoughts were at the sight of such rabble, one can guess.58 Lt. Richardson described the scene, as he saw it, in detail as desertions appeared to increase in tandem with the severity of the fighting and as the outcome of the battle in Singapore became evermore of a foregone conclusion. The comparatively confined nature of the fighting on Singapore also made such misdemeanours more apparent. On 8 February Richardson recalled that there was: a hell of a bombardment most of the night. Japs effected landings in force on NW and N of island through mangroves! . . . Kranji, Pasir, Lebah and Tengah – thousands of troops threw away their arms and swarmed back to Singapore. Skulking in alleyways and cellars; looting and being a bloody nuisance.59 On 14 February, only a day before the surrender, Lt. Baillies made a trip into Singapore town to collect rations. The area was under concentrated shelling and

Surrender and captivity: 15 February 1942 23 the journey quite hazardous. Despite this, Lt. Baillies’ principal comment was ‘what I like least was the number of troops wandering vaguely around, from all units’.60 Captain David Nelson, who detailed his POW experiences in a post-war account of captivity, The Story of Changi, made the following entry in his diary: Then Sunday 15th was the climax. The town was being shelled from all directions and was on fire in dozens of places and the water was finished . . . I didn’t want to go as I didn’t feel it was right to run away as the Aussies had done . . . We found 12 Aussies had taken charge of Awan [a boat] and were all stocked up with food and beer ready to sail and we had a job to get them ashore. However, they came off and unloaded their gear and the others put theirs on. They had an officer with them and he admitted he had pulled his men out of the firing line on his own authority and they had all come down to the Yacht club basin. Lots of them were trying to get away in stolen boats.61 Although Nelson’s account was allegedly based on his ‘personal diary, written up daily in the atmosphere of the circumstances prevailing at the time’, he chose not to mention this incident in his book.62 On 23 February 1943, well over a year into captivity with all its associate and pressing concerns, Major Gillies was still commenting vociferously on the events of 1942, writing that ‘we are told that a medal has been struck for the Malayan campaign. I suggested that the colour of the ribbon should be plain yellow, but perhaps that would be rather unfair!’63 Although the actual levels of desertion cannot be gauged from these few diary accounts, it can be seen that the occurrence of such incidents was well known. The Singapore fortress had fallen, those charged with defending it had failed to do so. They had also been deprived, as they saw it, of demonstrating some level of real defiance in the face of the enemy. The men who lost Singapore had surrendered a ‘fortress’ considered to be all but impregnable, and they had lost it to a non-Caucasian power whose martial qualities had been severely denigrated by Allied propaganda. This fact would now rebound on troops who had been compelled to lay down their arms, as it served only to emphasise the significance of the surrender. As if this were not sufficient, many men were acutely aware of stories pertaining to, or had actually witnessed, acts of desertion and cowardice. Now thousands of British and Australian troops, affected only by feelings of disorientation, shame and inadequacy, were finally to face the Japanese, not as combatants but instead within the infinitely more unequal relationship of captive and captor.

The beginning of captivity The Allied soldiers captured at Singapore faced an uncertain future in the aftermath of the surrender. For Sgt. Hodgson, however, the cessation of hostilities had marked a decided upturn in his fortunes: [I] am writing this in luxurious surroundings . . . with a cigar and glass of beer and wireless going in the next room. As soon as we heard it was all off [we]

24 Surrender and captivity: 15 February 1942 made ourselves comfortable in [an] empty house . . . and had first nights sleep for about a fortnight.64 This sense of relief was apparent generally. Signaller Cyril Coombs said that ‘although only had a week of it [the fighting], it was grand to sleep in comfort and without disturbance once again’.65 L/Cpl. John Korsch recorded that ‘on the night of the 15th February, when silence settled over the battlefield, two men said to me “thank heavens that’s over”’.66 Major Shean simply wrote: ‘it was a lovely evening . . . I sat in front of Raffles college and thought how strange it all was.’67 Whilst many captured servicemen consoled themselves by daring to believe that their time in captivity would be short, others took a more pragmatic and ultimately more realistic view. Signaller Wilkins was one of the few not to believe that his period of captivity would be short. He wrote in his account of imprisonment: I was fortunate to remember the First World War 1914–18 and of my cousin and Uncle who were prisoners of war in Germany and I knew from the start in February 1942 that it would be a long while before I became a free man again, with this in mind and the wish to survive the days, weeks, months and perhaps years I knew I must make each day useful and interesting.68 The mental and physical preparation for captivity would prove extremely important. Brigadier A.L. Varley, Commanding Officer, 2/22 Australian Infantry Brigade, issued these orders to his men on the eve of captivity: Wherever you may be, you are required to exercise strict hygiene and sanitation, and preservation of your health . . . You have carried out your duties in the battlefield with valour, and Australia fully knows of your exploits. The victor in any battle appreciates and recognises the valour of any opponent, and, it can reasonably be assumed that the Japanese authorities will give you recognition in your case.69 Although Brigadier Varley tries to maintain an authoritative and assured stance, his concerns about the uncertainty of captivity are all too apparent. Lt.-Col. L.R. Dalgleish, Australian Army Ordinance Corps 8th Division, also spoke to his men after the capitulation. He set out what he considered to be the ‘four main menaces to our safety’ whilst POWs. He considered that the first ‘menace’ would be: ourselves – debilitation of mind, body or soul. Fading will power. Apathy to everything, born of breeding and self-commiseration. The antidote is work – physical and mental work. Our creed must be – faith in our God, in our country and in Ourselves.70 Dalgleish went on to say that ‘Disease’, ‘Lack of Food supplies’ and ‘The Japanese Themselves’ would prove the other main difficulties.71 Dalgleish’s appreciation of the coming years would prove to be remarkably prescient. Feelings towards the Japanese were, however, compounded by a variety of conflicting images and

Surrender and captivity: 15 February 1942 25 experiences. The prospect of spending the duration of the war as POWs was obviously not appealing and, given the reputation that preceded the Japanese, many men considered that this might not be a particular problem and that they faced immediate execution. Initially it was the uncertainty of meeting with the Japanese for the first time, rather than the prospect of a long period of captivity, that caused the most concern. Many men had little idea of what to expect, and what information they did possess was an imagined idea, based principally upon a distorted combination of propaganda images and hard experience facing the Japanese in battle. Now, however, the British and Australians were to meet the Japanese not as soldier to soldier but as victor and vanquished, an unequal relationship at the best of times and never more so than within the race-war context that much of the fighting for Malaya and Singapore had been conducted.72 Bombardier Parry wrote of his fears about the future. He said that ‘if the Japs are half as nasty as people make out we are going to have rather a thrilling time’.73 For most of the men awaiting the arrival of the Japanese, this type of hearsay was all the information they had from which to draw any conclusions as to the likely treatment that they could expect. The British were well aware of Japanese atrocities committed in Malaya. The massacre of Indian and Australian wounded at Parit Sulong on 22 January and the killing of patients and staff at the Alexandra Hospital in Singapore, just days before the capitulation, were well known. With this in mind, the air of anticipation was considerable. Inevitably, it proved to be an anti-climax with few men encountering Japanese troops directly and most not seeing their first Japanese soldier until they had been prisoners for some time. Captain H.F.G. Malet’s personal experiences with the Japanese are instructive, especially those notes he made following the Japanese victory parade organised to celebrate their triumph: our salutes were always punctiliously replied to and there seemed to be an absence of ‘gloating’ over their enemies, though they had every reason to be proud (and a bit astonished!) at the success of their campaign – (on the other hand we were not in the least astonished, knowing what we had in the way of air and sea defence!).74 Even at this juncture, Captain Malet does not miss a propitious opportunity and feels obliged to reiterate the standard British disclaimer about why Singapore and Malaya were lost and where exactly to lay the blame. A.A. Morris’s own initial fears about his likely treatment in the aftermath of surrender were ultimately groundless: ‘we were ushered to a big open piece of ground and here we waited, we didn’t know what was going to happen. These Japs opened scores of cartons of fags and threw them amongst us.’75 In a similar vein, Signaller L. Popham wrote of his first experience with the Japanese: everything very quiet, waiting patiently for the Japanese to take over all military weapons and to send us to POW camps, although our minds were

26 Surrender and captivity: 15 February 1942 unsettled as to what would be our fate. We know that they didn’t bother about taking prisoners. So it was a very awkward time waiting to hear the decision – instant death or long captivity.76 The first Japanese soldiers encountered by the British made a diverse impression. Company Sergeant-Major P. Romney, Federated Malay States Volunteer Force, (FMSVF), was unimpressed by his initial contact with the Japanese. He thought that they ‘were not a very impressive lot, but they did give an impression of toughness’.77 A.A. Morris provided a more vivid description of the first Japanese troops he came into contact with, asserting ‘what dirty looking b . . . . s they were! They made illogical noises in their throats and looked terribly wicked, it was the first time I had seen a Jap.’78 He continued: They are all approximately 5 ft tall, without exception. I have only seen two who were as tall as I, and they were both Jap. officers. The majority have a rather brutal appearance. The shape of their heads is similar to that of a gorilla. They wore collarless khaki shirts full of patches. Khaki shorts, which cover their knees and tucked in their puttees. Their puttees are long ones. Their boots are similar in shape to ours only made of black cloth and have rubber soles, without heels. Some of them are now wearing our . . . kit and sentries use our rifles: they wear a soft cloth cap . . . Their hair is all shaved off . . . their voices are guttural and some of their speech sounds like animal noises.79 Curiously Morris’s descriptions here echo many of the contemporary images of the Japanese that constituted much of the pre-surrender British propaganda. Bombardier Parry, upon seeing his first Japanese, remarked that they were ‘ugly, dirty looking blighters plus a lot of the crudest looking equipment I’ve ever seen, still it got them here . . .’80 Captain Wilkinson also commented that ‘The[y] . . . were all extremely polite all the time and frequently offered us cigarettes.’81 Sgt. Roxburgh made these comments whilst camped near the Singapore botanical gardens: I met a couple of our lads who said they had been prisoners, but had been released. They said they had been treated very decently by the Japs eating the same food as they ate and also received the best of medical attention. What Japs we have seen so far have been fairly decent to us.82 Alec Hodgson considered that ‘these Japs are not nearly so little as I expected, average about 5′3′′ and pretty sturdy with plenty of flesh’.83 Alf Montfort wrote that in the immediate aftermath of the surrender ‘we didn’t see many Japanese, one now and again’ and that: They treated us all right. One Sgt. asked me my age, whether I was married and told me he was sorry for us. It is certainly a relief to be out of the shelling and bombing . . . but at the moment we haven’t a very bright future as we are now prisoners of war and we can expect to be treated as such.84

Surrender and captivity: 15 February 1942 27 The Japanese had made no real plans for dealing with so many prisoners and initially appeared at a loss as to what to do with them all. The principal destination for the former defenders of Singapore was the former British army complex at the eastern tip of the island, Changi. This was a distance of 15 miles from the city of Singapore, and the only option available to the vast majority of men was simply to walk. Captain Hannam wrote that ‘the Japs marched us the 14 miles to Changi, where we arrived early next morning. We were given one cucumber and one tin of bully beef between 10 men for marching rations.’85 Despite their vanquished status, the marching troops were compelled to proceed in as orderly a fashion as possible, being instructed that they should ‘NOT talk to Govt. servants or civilians except through Japanese ARMY’ and that ‘Unit Commanders will pay strict attention to see that this order is transmitted to all ranks.’86 The Allied forces were obliged to march in a long, continuous column, with some units taking many hours. Afterwards, Alec Hodgson recorded: ‘yesterday had to march to Changi and could only take what we could carry so brought only tucker . . . march was pretty ghastly but eventually arrived about midnight. Slept on concrete floor.’87 Although most men had only a vague idea of what to expect from captivity, it was soon apparent that Changi would defy many of their initial preconceptions as to what life as a POW would constitute. The diary of an anonymous Australian officer in Changi contains these comments on his initial impressions of captivity and of Changi itself. Firstly, that ‘our unit . . . had been given the job of providing the medical services for the camp . . . and as a consequence it was arranged that we should proceed as a complete field ambulance, including all our transport and gear as usual’.88 He continued that: Bert . . . was with me in the car and one remark to me typifies, I think, what must have been in all our minds at the time. He said ‘well I never really thought that we would end up as prisoners of war, but if I ever think about it at all, I visualised something quite different from this. If anyone had told me that as prisoners, we would be driving out to our prison camp in our own cars, complete with our own equipment, and all our belongings, without even a Japanese guard to accompany us, they would have laughed him down.’89 Despite the confusion that reigned in Singapore town in the aftermath of the fighting, the British and Australian forces imposed a considerable degree of order to their actions. The records of Australian instructions have been preserved to a considerable extent and demonstrate that the AIF were keen, as far as possible, to maintain strict military discipline from the beginning of captivity, even before the conditions at Changi were fully appreciated. The AIF units were instructed to send all essential equipment, reserve rations, cooking pots and reserve clothing to unit lots at Tanglin barracks [in Singapore] from where they were to be transported to Changi. The transportation of officer’s kits was also sanctioned, and ‘Officer’s kit MAY be collected later as last priority’ and ‘all Officers will pack only such gear as they can carry. No staff cars for any Off. will be permitted. Officers of rank

28 Surrender and captivity: 15 February 1942 of Brigadier or over may travel in lorries carrying stores.’90 The Australian personnel considered unfit to march were instructed to report to Tanglin Barracks for ‘ferrying in motor ambulances’.91 Initially the problem of a lack of suitable accommodation, as distinct from space, of which there was a great deal at Changi, was a severe one.92 Captain Gibson’s unit was allotted one block of barracks, which proved ‘rather crowded but enough room for all to lie down’.93 This obviously meant sleeping on the floor rather than in proper beds. Once the AIF had assembled at Selarang barracks, the site of their new home, the sense of bewilderment at the surrender and at now being POWs was only emphasised by their first impressions of the Changi area as a whole. Sgt. Montfort remarked with some surprise that ‘we don’t seem to have any guards over us’.94 In fact the Japanese made little effort even to acknowledge their charges for the first week. Significantly, the British command structure remained intact at Changi, and Japanese orders, few though they were in the early days, were issued direct to senior British officers who then disseminated them via the existing military hierarchy. British officers were responsible for putting them into force. In the absence of Japanese direction, the AIF HQ, in common with its British counterpart, moved quickly to issue instructions concerning every aspect of POW life. The routine morning work ‘included the construction of Aldershot ovens, latrines, urinals, flytraps, the cleanliness and hygiene of unit area, fencing, agriculture, grass cutting, collection of water, firewood, supplies etc., unit fatigues, building of gunyahs in properly laid out groups to relieve barrack congestion’.95 In the afternoon, every attempt was made to keep the men as busy as possible. Afternoon programmes were to include: Education (classes in particular subjects will be held on alternate days), cultivation of unit garden plots, organised games within the camp perimeter (such as basket ball, medicine ball, football, hockey, quoits, with home made kit), route marches under an Officer in AIF main area (such parties may be able to collect useful wood etc. . . .) bathing parties. Afternoon working parties may cease working time to be back at their lines at 1800 hrs.96 The daily life at Changi was well regulated from the beginning but, crucially, it was the POWs themselves who were responsible for imposing this structure upon their own existence. While the British and Australians functioned under the umbrella of Malaya Command there were important differences of emphasis in terms of priorities. The Australians were quick to realise the need for a strict adherence to forms of traditional military discipline, and as such AIF orders stressed that: (1) Japanese instructions are to the effect that the system of discipline to be enforced by the AIF is our own system as laid down by the DA, AMR, and AA. Accordingly normal methods of enforcing discipline will be followed and Coy. Commanders and C.O.s will exercise their ordinary powers in the normal way.

Surrender and captivity: 15 February 1942 29 (2) Emphasis is placed on the necessity for the strictest observance of all orders issued by the H.Q. AIF as in most cases they represent direct instructions from the Japanese Army. (3) Particular attention will be paid to orders covering food, hygiene, sanitation and pilfering of property. (4) No POW may approach or loiter in the vicinity of any gun emplacement or fieldwork. (5) POW will retain only personal bedding, clothing, effects, books etc. They will not retain any weapons, cameras, binoculars, compasses or wireless sets. Offenders have been warned that they must take the consequences of breach of this order. (6) No Officers or O/Rs will go to the Japanese Conference House near Changi Gaol except the official AIF representatives or Officers specially sent for by the Japanese. (7) All POWs, both Officers and O/Rs must salute all Japanese Officers (regardless of rank) and Japanese guards.97 The final lines of this directive read ‘N.B. Failure of individuals to obey Japanese orders may result in the whole of the AIF being deprived and may have serious results.’98 The idea of the many being punished for the transgressions of the few was one that would recur frequently and was a useful tool by which to maintain discipline amongst the POW community when more ‘traditional’ military discipline was less applicable and effective than in these early days. While the above quotations suggest that Japanese influence was pervasive, and were no doubt intended to do so, the opposite was in fact true. By devolving responsibilities to such an extent on to the POWs themselves the Japanese were inadvertently creating and fostering an independent spirit that would become more apparent as the years of captivity passed. The first weeks at Changi were difficult, as much of the area had suffered considerable damage during the fighting. Water was at first very scarce and the little that was available was unfit for consumption.99 The POWs, drawing on the variety of skills available in engineering units, had began repair work on the damaged pipes by 22 February.100 These men worked quickly and within a few days the problems were partially alleviated by the establishment of a water point.101 On 19 February the Japanese announced that henceforth Singapore, and therefore Changi, would adhere to Tokyo time, approximately two hours in advance of the local time.102 This instruction was the sum total of Japanese influence in the first week. Although the POW existence at Changi had a somewhat unreal quality to it at first, Gunner W.H. Miggins was soon required to join a Japanese working party that brought him firmly back to the reality of the war: We were taken to a nearby beach. What we saw horrified us. Spread out along the waters’ edge were the bodies of 108 Chinese murdered by machine gun fire . . . the Japs told us they had been shot for looting, but it was odd there was no Malay or Indian people among them. Was our end to be like this also?103

30 Surrender and captivity: 15 February 1942 More than a few men make reference to this or similar events, and these incidents, isolated though they were, helped to ensure that the Japanese were not taken lightly, their general absence not withstanding. The principal concern at Changi, however, was food – initially in terms of quantity and then quality and, ultimately, during the last months of the war, an inadequate supply of both. The efforts to secure an adequate ration scale began almost immediately. The AIF War Diary commented that: On arrival at CHANGI the Japanese gave the following information concerning rations: (a) Supplies run out at the end of two months. (b) The Japanese showed no knowledge of Singapore’s output and expected factories [sic] (c) The AIF must be self-supporting except for rice at the end of two months.104 The first Japanese rations were issued to POWs at Changi on 24 February 1942, and thereafter drawn twice a week.105 The practical implications of these Japanese moves required that food be collected and maintained at a central location and then redistributed. Sgt. Roxburgh noted that ‘the food that we carried here has been taken from us by our officers and is to be rationed out to each man . . . food is very scarce’.106 Major Thompson, the AIF camp quartermaster, recorded that, by the 22 February, no rations had been received from the IJA and that men were living on canned goods brought in.107 Several days later Thompson noted a ‘strong demand made to IJA for improved scale’.108 A.H.B. Alexander, writing in 1946, said: we had managed to bring with us a fair amount of tinned food and cigarettes so that for the first few days we were comparatively well off on that score. However, an order came through that all private supplies of food stuffs, etc. had to be handed into our central food dump and we like ‘mugs’ fell for it. It was the last we saw of our precious supplies and incidentally we were about the only unit who complied with the order.109 While the central preparation and distribution of food was the only practical solution to the problems of some units having little or no rations, Alexander, along with other men, felt that the orders to surrender food had a less altruistic reason behind them: ‘I have a sneaking suspicion that the Royal Army Service Corps wanted to augment their own supplies, but I may be maligning them.’110 Captain Gibson and his men at least made sure that they ‘had one last good meal before handing over the stuff – and then settled down – not with very good grace – to a diet of rice and very little else’.111 On 21 February specific areas of the enormous Changi complex were allocated to individual units and formations and commanders of these areas appointed.112 The POW cantonment was subdivided into six areas: Southern Area (late Singapore

Surrender and captivity: 15 February 1942 31 Fortress), 18th Division, [3] Indian Corps, 11 Indian Division, Australian Imperial Force, with a large hospital in the centre of the area.113 Only in March, as we shall see, did the Japanese order the erection of a confining barbed wire perimeter, and then it was the POWs themselves who were charged with its construction. In addition, the POW authorities established a substantial new hospital which took up three complete blocks in the Roberts barracks area of Changi.114 These newly defined and semi-autonomous areas were essentially responsible for their own administration, with Malaya Command being the only direct link to the Japanese.115 The popular idea of a POW camp was not apparent at Changi and only later did things conform to something approaching a restricted area. Allied intelligence reports derived from captured Japanese personnel, although generally out of date by the time they were circulated, provided some information on what was happening in Singapore. The prevailing conditions, however, must have been equally perplexing to those endeavouring to interpret the intelligence material: Prisoner of war JA (USA) 100050 states that . . . while on six hour leave [in April 1942] he had seen three large two storey barracks, each capable of housing 500 to 600 men under Japanese army standards. White POWs could be seen at the windows and one stood guard at the front of the barracks. There was no fence or wall around the camp.116 When the erstwhile defenders of Singapore assembled at Changi they could be forgiven for being slightly bemused by what greeted them. Bombardier Parry attempted to capture what, to him, obviously felt strange. He confided to his diary that ‘hey! we are just like the Ities no guards or Nips anywhere – maybe we’ve won after all?’117 P.H. Romney wrote, in his letter diary, of the ambiguities and contradictions inherent within Changi, commenting: It is not always easy to realise that we are prisoners, for this is one of the most delightful parts of the island, the area is very large, and although there is wire fencing it is so far away from sight that there is not a continual reminder of our lack of freedom. Let me describe it to you. There is a large sea frontage extending as far as the eye can see, the water glistening smoothly in the early morning sun, a large island the other side of the strait and the Johore coastline little more than a mile away. Within the area a wealth of bougainvillaea, delicately-tinted temple flowers, and bright yellow cassia, and some of the loveliest trees on the island. It is not to be wondered at that in peace time this was one of the [‘pleasantest’ crossed out] most popular military stations in the world.118 Romney’s motives for writing in this manner perhaps betray the concerns his family might feel should they learn of his experiences via his diary alone. S. Dawson writing in 1946, however, also stated that ‘the early days were perhaps unique in prisoner of war history and we were not unappreciative of the many advantages

32 Surrender and captivity: 15 February 1942 we enjoyed’.119 The anonymous Australian officer wrote on his arrival at Selarang barracks, the principal location for Australian POWs: I might also say that this was my first visit to Changi and we were amazed at the colossal amount of money that must have been spent on the buildings. The general layout, the quarters for married officers, the elaborate almost palatial buildings for the officers and sergeant’s messes, was an eye-opener to most of us. The place was [on] a much grander scale than the Malay Regiment at Port Dickson, but as far as I could gather, nothing outstanding compared with other barrack accommodation on Singapore island. No doubt we were all feeling a bit embittered at the time, but we could not help feeling that if less money had been spent on palatial buildings and more used on real defences things might have been different.120 Many of these men appear to have taken with them into Changi certain specific ideas about the nature of captivity. Changi, in the initial months, met no recognised criteria of a POW camp, even one that was to be run by the Japanese, a race conceived of by Allied propaganda and by popular perception as fundamentally alien.121 Lt. Richardson considered that the ‘early days in Changi were rather fantastic. None of us really knew anything about Japs (except their dismal record in China) [and] did not know how they would treat us. What would be their attitude and reaction to white troops as POWs?’122 Col. Shorland had a different perspective on the practical implications of this life at Changi: the sense of relief from the War was still on everybody. Wrongly no doubt, but all were tired with overwork and lack of sleep and a carefree life in Changi seemed unexpectedly good. So for a few days we enjoyed the fresh air, the peace and the sea and the problems of organisation were left to solve themselves. We got into a slipshod and unhappy way of life and all suffered in consequence.123 William Sowter though differently: One good feature of this camp is that we can do practically what we like without interference from the Japanese. The camp is administered entirely by our own officers and we can wander at will over a very large area and the only sign of guards we see is a couple of Japs with rifles who patrol the roads (quite unnecessarily) and are seen perhaps once or twice during the day.124 This freedom from Japanese enforced discipline meant that orders would continue to be issued by their own officers, something that was viewed by many as an equivocal proposition. Tom Henling-Wade considered that by issuing orders through the existing British Army structure the Japanese had made a ‘wise decision as it never fails to give rank and file the impression that unpleasant orders come, not from the enemy, but from their own officers’.125

Surrender and captivity: 15 February 1942 33 It did not mean that those at Changi were united in their reactions to captivity, however, or that all the POWs co-operated as fully as they might have done. On 27 February Major Thompson noted in his diary that ‘morale low – pilfering continues – coconut trees and papaya trees receiving special attention. Slackness in obeying Camp Orders.’126 Col. Shorland wrote: For every two that played [the game] one did not, and the blackleg houses ate enormous meals while the honest ones went short. And in every house the greedy and undisciplined retired to their corners . . . the result was an atmosphere of suspicion that ruined all efforts to organise a decent communal life.127 The conflict between individual and collective needs were to appear in far more serious ways as captivity progressed, and this diary entry is an early indication of some of the initial tensions at Changi. Changi was different from other POW camps in another important respect. A central tenet of POW existence, certainly in the way in which the experience has been represented, is that of the role played by the hope of escape in the lives of those held prisoner. Escape for a POW is both a practical and a psychological refuge. POWs necessarily spend much time thinking about their release. Escape is the only way in which a POW can shape his own future and therefore exercise an autonomous influence over his predicament. Escape, in whatever form, is the single decisive expression of self-determination that a prisoner can make. The many films and books that attempt to recreate the idea of life as a POW frequently revert to the depiction of escape and the process that led to escape attempts, whether successful or not.128 Even the well-known film allegedly representing the experiences of POWs of the Japanese, The Bridge on the River Kwai features a successful escape, albeit a somewhat implausible one. For the Allied servicemen at Changi escape was not a realistic option. Even those who had little idea about the geography of Singapore and Malaya or about the region as a whole could understand that they were detained on an island surrounded by hostile territory. Crucially then, from the very beginning, life at Changi was deprived of a staple prop of POW existence. In most accounts detailing the experience of being a POW, in other wars or theatres, even the possibility of escape is regularly cited and can be seen as a prime factor in negating the isolation and frustration inevitably engendered by captivity.129 Planning for escape was a full-time occupation in itself and a principal focus of POW activity. What was the effect of the absence of this dimension at Changi? One possibility is that it enforced a degree of realism on the POWs, albeit perhaps an unconscious realism. The men at Changi could not hope that they could end their imprisonment through their own efforts, nor could they draw strength through the escape attempts of others. While escapes are mentioned in contemporary accounts they are restricted to the early months and are reported as being uniformly unsuccessful, although more than a few men seem to have absconded from Changi and joined up with guerrilla forces operating in the jungle of the Malayan mainland, with varying

34 Surrender and captivity: 15 February 1942 degrees of success. By contrast, without the merest hope of escape many men would have given up the difficult struggle to survive, especially as the situation became ever harder. A prisoner who realises that he himself cannot influence his own freedom must respond in a particular way, and at Changi, for the first six months of captivity, that way, as will be detailed in the next chapter, was to contribute to a vibrant and flourishing community made all the more bizarre for its location. After 15 February 1942 the Malayan army was obliged to come to terms with the loss of Singapore, collectively and individually. Captivity brought with it new challenges and new roles in an unfamiliar environment. However, the few weeks after the surrender saw the POWs establishing themselves and coming to appreciate the new experiences of captivity for what, in all probability, would be a considerable time. The practices and routines laid down between March and August 1942 would prove to be the foundations of the POW experience at Changi for the duration of the war.

3

Initial POW adjustments to captivity: March–August 1942

This chapter deals with the first six months of confinement at Changi. As we have already seen, the mood apparent among many of the men of Malaya Command upon entering captivity was more buoyant than might reasonably have been expected. This was due, in large part, to the way in which many men chose to interpret the surrender and its implications. Naturally, this was accompanied by a fair degree of apprehension about what captivity would bring, and this concern obliged the POWs to defer any recriminations about the significance and the magnitude of the defeat at Singapore, for the time being at least. In the early months at Changi, once the initial fears about what captivity might bring had been partially allayed, the POWs returned to the issues raised by the surrender and attempted to come to terms with them through numerous public lectures and private debates. This act of collective catharsis was important. It served to reduce internal tensions amongst the POW community and, whether as a direct result of this or not, there appears to have been no lasting divisions amongst the various national groupings at Changi, or rather no divisions engendered as a result of the Singapore surrender at least. Once these feelings had been addressed, the POWs turned to more traditional concerns experienced by all prisoners, with anxieties about their home and families being particularly apparent. These considerations apart, this period at Changi was spent in attempts to come to terms with captivity. This was largely achieved in two ways: firstly, by responding in as positive a fashion as was possible to every hurdle that captivity presented; secondly, and perhaps most importantly, by the development of initiatives designed both to overcome problems as they arose and also to make the generally austere POW life more palatable. By imposing an order of their own creating upon POW life, the prisoners began to develop a sense of community. These early acts of autonomy and independence were frequently conducted despite Japanese opposition and disapproval.

From soldiers to POWs Between March and August 1942 the POWs at Changi were obliged to come to terms with the reality of their new lives as prisoners of war. During these initial months, their concerns and preoccupations began the difficult shift from those of soldiers, sailors or airmen recently captured, and in touch with the world at large, to those for whom the practical extent of their existence was determined and

36 Adjustments to captivity: March–August 1942 defined by the confines of a prison camp. The limits of confinement at Changi, however, were still not as clearly defined as they might have been, although they did grow progressively more restrictive. By August 1942 the POWs who remained in Singapore could have been in little doubt that they were, indeed, prisoners. The necessary adjustments to captivity were moderated significantly by what was only a gradual assertion of this more restrictive culture, on the part of the Japanese. The constraints that the Japanese began to place upon individual freedoms only became apparent in stages and were still frequently ambiguous in nature. Simultaneously, and often as a consequence of this, the implications of life at Changi – disease and malnutrition, for example – also only became apparent as the months progressed and as fitness levels and reserves of foodstuffs were eroded. While the POWs never abandoned thoughts of home, the pre-eminence that was naturally accorded such concerns during the early days and weeks of captivity was gradually replaced by the more practical needs of day-to-day existence. Ideas of home and freedom ceased to be a realistic short-term want, and instead these desires and aspirations moved imperceptibly towards being the unconscious, and frequently conscious, props that helped men to deal with incarceration on a longterm basis. The POWs were greatly helped in this endeavour by the eventual establishment of contact with home, although this would prove to be only a tenuous link. In tandem with these developments, the Changi population dropped markedly over this period. The Japanese were keen to clear up the damage in Singapore town, and around the island generally, and to this end they employed large numbers of POWs on ‘working parties’. During this same period the Japanese also began the construction of the Burma–Thailand railway, as well as other projects, which saw large numbers of POWs being moved overseas and a steady influx of men arriving at Changi, prior to being shipped elsewhere.

The aftermath of the Malayan campaign Predictably, the Malayan campaign itself was a popular topic for discussion. The POWs naturally attempted to account for what had happened to them and to search for answers as to why they were now captives. To this end, the various elements of the war in Malaya were examined and scrutinised, both by individual prisoners and, more tellingly, by senior officers. These latter frequently provided public lectures on the subject which were, by all accounts, very well attended. The lectures were partly designed to offer a narrative on the course of the campaign as a whole, but also served as the ideal vehicle by which to apportion thinly disguised blame. Following the series of calamities that constituted much of the fighting, there was plenty of blame to distribute and all the various participating forces and nationalities received their share. The period between March and the end of August, when POW life was partially in limbo and the number of men detained at Changi was at its height, was also peculiarly suited to a dissection of the events, as well as to giving vent to the feelings engendered by them. In early April, Major Gillies appeared relatively relaxed and thought: ‘how quickly the day passes and how the days have passed since the cease-fire’. He also

Adjustments to captivity: March–August 1942 37 confessed: ‘I can’t bring myself to call it the surrender!’1 Gillies, unhappy after hearing of the possibility of being charged a £20 messing fee per month by the Japanese, still managed to shape his current prisoner of war discontent within the framework of a more general dissatisfaction, when he considered: if this is so [the money levy], there will be a bloody revolution when we get back. Even without that, there is a strong likelihood of trouble, the way we’ve been buggered about in this campaign. It behoves any Government that may be in power to watch its step when this lot gets home I can assure you. However that is for the future.2 Major Gillies, at this early juncture at least, was reasonably confident that he would survive captivity, and indeed this confidence is apparent in most diaries that cover this early period. His grievances at what he perceived to be mistakes in the handling and conduct of the war in Malaya are only too obvious. In this particular instance his ire was being directed at the ‘Government’, but it could quite easily have been the ‘top brass’, as it was with so many men at Changi. These feelings were in fact a powerful incentive that partially underpinned his determination to return home. To this end, addressing these grievances provided another specific reason for him to survive captivity, and in this sense is reminiscent of the desire to return home to loved ones. Major Shean was similarly angry and also drew inspiration from the disaster of Singapore, although he was determined to ensure that no similar catastrophe should be allowed to happen. Even in April 1942, two months after the surrender, he was writing in his diary that he was: still thunderstruck that we gave up this valuable lovely peninsula with such a little struggle. We lacked leadership, physical fitness, guts, initiative and training and discipline. Too much is said about lack of air and naval support. In my opinion, with the reinforcements we did receive, we should have been able to hang onto at least Singapore Fortress until real aid came or at least delayed its capture for many weeks. A great crusade awaits all regular army officers after the war. A crusade to ensure that a new army is born fit, disciplined well equipped and well paid.3 The practical reasons why Malaya and Singapore were lost were debated in hundreds of private diaries and, where the diarist felt he had nothing personal to add to the debate, then frequently large excerpts, culled from lectures given over to the subject, were transcribed directly into the diary text. The fact that public lectures on this most sensitive of topics were conducted at all is interesting in itself. These were often given by senior officers. General Lewis Heath’s lectures, for example, are often cited. Heath was one of the men on whom the responsibility for the disaster largely fell.4 Lt. Baillies comments twice in his diary, on separate lectures. Firstly he wrote: Taylor, the Australian Brigadier, gave us a lecture with the aid of a map, explaining the Australian’s part in attempting to prevent the Japanese landing

38 Adjustments to captivity: March–August 1942 on Singapore island. It was in the nature of a propaganda talk, and there is no doubt the Aussies did have a pretty rough time from enemy shelling, although it did not explain large formations of troops being in Singapore. He also indirectly stressed the lack of co-ordination between the commands. General Heath summed up by saying that the Japanese attack on the island was one of the best planned and carried out manoeuvres in military history which, I thought, was rather like praising the opponent who beats you at golf.5 Heath’s summation was clearly intended to provide an ‘everyone did his best despite the circumstances’ excuse and one which Lt. Baillies, at least, found neither comforting nor convincing.6 Some days later Lt. Baillies, obviously either a keen student of the Malayan campaign or tremendously bored, attended General Heath’s own lecture on the topic. Here, Lt. Baillies: learnt to appreciate the difficulties of an army of insufficient strength in attempting to hold various key points, difficulties that were greatly increased by the numerous aerodromes within short distances of Japanese invading points, and complete lack of air support. The lecture lasted two hours and Heath appeared quite fagged out.7 The tensions apparent in attributing some degree of blame for events are all too apparent. Baillies said that Heath: did not deal at all with events on the island, and afterwards at question time, refused to say why no defences had been prepared opposite the causeway. This had been General Percival’s responsibility and naturally Heath couldn’t say anything.8 Despite his cynicism at what he considered to be obvious pulled punches, Baillies, too, transcribed a large portion of Heath’s text dealing with the reasons for the Japanese superiority. The need to try and account for the surrender is evident, with Baillies reiterating what Heath had stressed: they [the Japanese] had excellent communications between their ground troops and aircraft. They were also extremely well equipped for the close fighting in Malaya, due to experience in China and Indo-China, and knew the value of using explosive bullets, picking off European officers with Indian troops and using mortars effectively. Their Tommy gun troops were equipped with special boots for climbing trees.9 The need to state one’s own case is particularly evident in this lecture. The Australian troops had faced heavy criticism, firstly for allowing the Japanese a foothold on the island and also for alleged indiscipline once the outcome of the battle was beyond doubt. Lt.-Col. S.H. Ashmore, GSO/II (Operations and Training) Malaya Command, wrote that by 10 and 11 February

Adjustments to captivity: March–August 1942 39 the AIF had definitely cracked. The state of discipline among the AIF was appalling, no one ever saluted, no one ever made any attempt at drill or correct turn-out . . . Lack of discipline was, I feel, a minor contributory cause to the loss of Malaya.10 Wavell’s report on operations in Malaya and Singapore, written in June 1942, is explicit on this most sensitive of subjects. He concluded that: ‘For the fall of Singapore itself, the Australians are held responsible.’11 To emphasise the contradiction in feelings apparent at the time, as well as the depth of those feelings, Timothy Hall quotes unnamed Australians who said that this capitulation was the first time that Australian soldiers had ever laid down their arms: then they told themselves that it was a British order to surrender and a British General who got them into this mess. Somehow it made it a little easier to convince themselves that they were not letting Australia down through any action of their own.12 As far as the men at Changi are concerned, this type of discussion is representative of the way in which many of the grievances about the conduct of the fighting, loudly aired prior to the surrender and its immediate aftermath, were largely passed over in the interests of internal harmony amongst the POW population. With the initial exception of these lectures, no lasting grudges manifested themselves in any serious incidents of disunity. The one exception to this appears to have been a propensity to question the actions and rights of senior officers once inside Changi. Many men felt that these officers had relinquished their right to respect, and the trappings of rank, by virtue of their conduct during the fighting. Corporal J.G. ‘Tom’ Morris, in his post-war memoir, recalled an incident concerning a Regimental Sergeant-Major whom Morris described as a ‘magnificent peace and pre-action soldier’. This man cut himself off from his men and lived in isolation because, according to Morris, ‘he felt he had not lived up to his expectations during action and no longer considered himself worthy of being a member of his battalion’.13 This type of discontent may well have found a wider outlet, in terms of more senior officers at least. However, as we shall see the Japanese themselves removed this potential problem, albeit unwittingly, by their removal of all officers above the rank of Lt.-Col. and relocating them – first in Formosa and then, ultimately, Manchuria. This act meant that the source of grievances over the campaign itself, the senior British officers, would not be around to allow discontent to grow. This action would prove significant in the development of Changi. Major P. Davies also wrote extensive notes on the post-campaign lectures, entitled in his diary ‘why the battle was lost’, and concluded with the sombre statement that ‘the less said of British morale the better’.14 The feelings of either underperformance, or of being let down, obviously varied considerably from unit to unit, with men from the British 18th Division, specifically the 54th and 55th Brigades, who did not arrive in Singapore until 5 February, not sharing these

40 Adjustments to captivity: March–August 1942 feelings so strongly. However, a more general need to reassert some form of martial pride manifested itself in various other ways. The most extreme of these were tenuous plans for some form of ‘offensive action’. Lt.-Col. Galleghan, one of the more overtly aggressive of the Australian officers, sponsored ‘a self contained mixed brigade [which] was planned and organised, on paper, to operate against the enemy should the opportunity arise’.15 Many men did not take this plan particularly seriously, and Lt. C. Baume made the following comments: It has been decided that all prisoners should secretly train to take the offensive in case anything happens. We, the officers, are now receiving infantry training by means of lectures, sand models. We have been organised into companies with the idea of eventually taking the island from the Nips. It all sounds terribly optimistic because having failed to hold the island when we were armed how can we hope to retake it when we have only bamboo sticks and gardening forks?16 While these objections are well founded, Baume perhaps underestimated the need at least to pay lip service to the notion of still being a fighting force. This, too, dovetails with perceptions apparent at the moment of capitulation, when many men felt that the act of surrender robbed them of the opportunity to settle a few scores with the Japanese. Training and preparing for such an opportunity, even though the likelihood of action was unrealistic, provided a refuge from charges of doing nothing whatsoever, a likely consideration when set against similar accusations levelled over the conduct of the war in Malaya as a whole. Equally, the business of preparation itself had a value in terms of keeping men busy during a period when one of the main concerns was a lack of things to do.

Early adjustments to captivity Changi was obviously not a purpose-built POW camp, as the popular imagination would have it, replete with guard towers, searchlights and a well-defined, wired perimeter. However, the barrack buildings used as POW accommodation in the aftermath of the surrender were well appointed in their original role, and Changi itself was certainly deserving of its description as ‘one of the most modern and best equipped military bases in the world’.17 Most of the barrack buildings were undamaged or had suffered only superficial damage during the fighting for Singapore. Despite this, the principal complaint at the end of March was that ‘accommodation is generally insufficient and bad’ due to the number of men who required accommodation, far in excess of the original numbers envisaged when Changi was designed.18 The Changi base itself was extensive, covering a considerable area of the Changi peninsular at the easternmost tip of Singapore. For the Japanese to secure it adequately would have required a considerable number of troops devoted exclusively to guard duty. The fact that the Japanese themselves, and increasingly their captives also, considered that escape was impossible reduced the need for

Adjustments to captivity: March–August 1942 41 immediate supervision, and indeed the Japanese did not have adequate numbers of men available, even had this not proved to be the case. All of these factors conspired to make Changi an unusual place of detention. Despite these contradictions and concerns Major Shean managed to secure a berth in a pleasant part of Changi. This prompted him to write: ‘I cannot help feeling that we are too lucky in having the wonderful bungalow on the sea to live in and wonder how long this “fools’ paradise” will last.’19 Gunner F.W. Christie noted that the extent of his activities for 6 March amounted only to ‘loaf [ing] in the shade of the huts all day’.20 Reverend Chambers was keenly aware of the contradictions inherent in being a POW in such circumstances and confided to his diary: ‘how I hate this lovely place’. He attempted to come to terms with his situation and thought that his role as a priest was a help: ‘the feeling of being of use and wanted here is the greatest help I know in being here’.21 Other prisoners were not so fortunate. The comfortable and lazy early days led to a number of points of dissension, especially with regard to questions of equality. Sergeant Romney said that ‘the Brigadier’s house, with neighbouring officer’s quarters, has been put out of bounds. “They don’t want us to see their suckling pigs” was one comment.’ Romney seemed particularly dissatisfied with his own officers’ performances, citing: Yesterday a notice appeared on our board asking men who had plenty of money to lend it to the Government for the duration. There is unlikely to be any response, the feeling among many, rightly or wrongly, being that it will go to finance officers’ food purchases, and that they are already living very much better than Other Ranks. Incidentally, I have not seen the Brigadier commanding the FMSVF in our barracks since we came here, whereas Col. James, CO of the Selangor Battalion, comes every day.22 Cyril Coombs also believed that ‘our own officers made things worse than the Japs’.23 Suspicions that the men were being kept artificially busy were widespread, especially when ordered to pick up leaves from one of Changi’s extensive lawn areas.24 While this type of dissent is partially rooted in feelings similar to those expressed by Corporal Morris, cited above, the real cause lay not in the pre-surrender period nor the surrender itself but rather in the nature of the subsequent captivity. Lt. W.W. Marsh, a pre-war Malayan resident, noted that ‘it is an extraordinary arrangement for a captured army to be allowed to administer itself and for officers to remain with other ranks as disciplined units’.25 The conflict arose from the belief that captivity would take on a different form from that which it ultimately did take at Changi. For some reason many men felt that their new lives as POWs would mean that traditional army discipline and a dogmatic respect for rank would no longer be so firmly applicable. These feelings, however unrealistic, would seem to be located firstly with a belief that the officers’ underperformance had somehow removed their right to lead and also that because Changi had defied expectations in so many ways then it was not unreasonable to believe that some form of new

42 Adjustments to captivity: March–August 1942 social order would also come about. Russell Braddon took particular issue with the way the camp was run in its early days in his best-selling account of captivity, The Naked Island. He entitled his initial chapter on Changi ‘The Phoney Captivity’ and wrote: Changi was not phoney because of the mass of men in it but because of the official attitude behind its administration. The Command determined to maintain full military discipline and establishments, regardless of circumstances or psychology, waiting upon the day when Malaya would be invaded by a British force. Accordingly, two principles seemed to guide every decision. One, to retain full divisional and regimental staffs pottering round achieving nothing useful at all in divisional and regimental offices: two, to preserve the Officers–Other Ranks distinction by as many tactless and unnecessary orders as could be devised.26 While the senior POW officers did wield their authority with a more subtle aspect than they might otherwise have done in peacetime, certain POWs were more forthright in expressing their dissatisfaction with either fellow officers or with superior officers, especially in the case of Other Ranks. Captain Horner ascribed this to the simple fact of captivity: ‘it is an unpleasant but nevertheless true fact that the life of a POW has turned hitherto decent officers, particularly in the case of field rank, into selfish, mean and unscrupulous beings who will stop at nothing as long as their own ends are satisfied’.27 Major Shean thought along similar lines, considering that ‘this war has done queer things to lots of people. My God some turn out absolute shits. Selfish, mean and dishonest. A POW camp soon displays them.’28 All these ideas are somewhat at odds with the general depiction of captivity where often the unselfishness of the POWs towards their fellow captives is the central element. Interestingly, James Clavell’s King Rat, famously set in Changi, brings out these strands of selfish behaviour very well and portrays them as being the main component of life in his Changi. While these grumblings continued, Lt. Marsh presciently noted that coming to terms with the realisation that many of the resources at Changi were finite was initially difficult. He also realised that the short-term solutions and innovations favoured by many POWs were not always in the best interests of all concerned. Marsh wrote: Trouble is that most of the material which was originally available for making things has mostly disappeared. Wood etc. has been mostly burnt in cookhouses because they were too damn lazy to saw up a few trees. They have even cut down coconut trees because these trees happened to be handy and were easy to cut up, although they make very poor wood fuel.29 The conservation of precious and irreplaceable commodities was vital and the importance of doing so was something that would only be learned with time. The eventual acknowledgement of this consideration was in itself a reflection of

Adjustments to captivity: March–August 1942 43 the new realisation that captivity was likely to prove a long-term proposition. In the meantime, it was short-term thinking which prevailed, and with the departure of large groups of men on working parties outside Changi, in Singapore, some units responded to the reduced demand by giving away their vital kitchen equipment. They were instructed not to do so in future.30 The unauthorised dismantling of buildings without prior instruction, with the recovered material being used as firewood, was also prohibited.31 Orders such as this began the formal reorientation of the POW community towards long-term captivity.

Food and disease concerns During the early months, the POWs faced two main problems in respect of food supplies. Firstly, it was soon apparent that it would be increasingly difficult to guarantee an adequate and balanced diet whilst at Changi, and next to impossible if the only source was to be the unreliable Japanese who were already encouraging the POWs to produce their own food. The second hurdle was partly psychological and partly physiological: that of adjusting to a diet that was both reduced and, initially at least, composed principally of rice. The proliferation of rice as a dietary staple produced a rash of humorous references, with the writing and performance of such plays as Turned Out Rice Again being one example. The first of many different ration scales was laid down by the IJA on 25 February 1942. Frequently, the actual amount issued was well below these stipulated figures, which were, per day: Rice 500 grams Vegetables 50 grams Tea 5 grams

Meat/Fish 50 grams Sugar 20 grams Salt 5 grams

Flour 50 grams Oil 5 grams Milk 15 grams32

In his post-war report Lt.-Col. Holmes, who would take over in August 1942 from General Percival as the Senior British officer at Changi and as Commanding Officer, wrote: ‘when compared with the British peace time scale, such a scale appears very inadequate. But in view of what was to come, it was, in fact, lavish.’33 The significance of this is emphasised by Lt. Baillies, who thought that ‘if it wasn’t for the all-important question of food, we would feel that as POW camps go we were quite well off’.34 It soon became apparent that the continued availability of sufficient quantities of fresh food would be a vital and ongoing concern. The realisation that regular food supplies would be, at best, erratic, and frequently inadequate, prompted the POWs to begin their first coherent attempts at independent initiatives to improve their predicament. After many repeated requests to source additional food outside Changi, during February and early March 1942, all of which the Japanese refused, the IJA eventually permitted local purchase parties to proceed into Singapore in order to obtain supplemental rations for use in the hospital.35 At the beginning of March, the Japanese declared that they would be ‘unable to meet, let alone increase, the present agreed scale owing to a shortage of supplies’.36 The Australian forces recognised

44 Adjustments to captivity: March–August 1942 early on the importance of attempting to grow, as well as to purchase, additional foodstuffs to supplement those on offer from the Japanese. To that end, the AIF put 800 men to work cultivating garden plots, dug out of the impressive lawns that were found in abundance around the Changi area.37 This Australian initiative subsequently became subsumed within a larger camp garden scheme outside the AIF area perimeter and eventually involved the participation of all POWs at Changi.38 Originally, the principal crop cultivated was sweet potatoes, but tapioca, Ceylon spinach, amaranth, kangkong, beans, chillies and aubergines were all ultimately planted.39 This larger project was nominally supervised by the Japanese but was, in all practical and day-to-day matters, run by a POW committee known as the ‘Garden Control Group’ from November 1942.40 For Sergeant Roxburgh, however, the paramount concern at this point in time was over the monotony of the available diet, rather than its quantity. He wrote, ‘what a cow of a life this is’,41 adding: We get rice for breakfast, rice for dinner and more rice for tea and the ration is a full pint mug. There is no salt in it to give it a bit of flavour. Sometimes bully beef, salmon or sardines is mixed in with it, but this does not alter the taste much as an 11lb tin of bully beef or salmon has to between 10 men. We have been told that there is only enough food on the island here for 8 months so after that, if things do not change, we will have to tighten our belts a damn sight more than they are now . . . 42 A week later he considered that the situation had improved marginally: Saturday 14th March. Our cooks have been experimenting in different ways with our rice and are making it a bit tastier than just the plain rice. They have tried jam, coconut, pineapple, stew, beef extract, bully beef, sardines and salmon and other things and have made the rice more palatable than what it has been. Of course there is only a small quantity of these things but with the help of the small ration of sugar we get, our meals are vastly improved. Then the cooks save any fat they get from the meat which is issued about once a week, and make rice rissoles about the size of a piece of fried fish. These are very tasty. Next with the flour issue they make boiled puddings. These are soggy things as we get no self-raising flour to put in them. But with the help of a few sultanas and sugar they are enjoyed too.43 Concerns over this inadequate diet led to additional representation being made to the IJA for an improvement in the ration scale on the 5 and 11 of March.44 Perhaps as a result of the food situation, black market activity was on the increase, and the IJA issued orders forbidding any trading with natives.45 The role that food would play in the lives of the captives was absolutely central. Captain Horner devoted considerable space in his diary to this topic: The most discussed subject is undoubtedly ‘food’ our daily diet is such that we cannot help but feel permanently hungry, we already hate the sight of rice,

Adjustments to captivity: March–August 1942 45 although we’ve got used now to its being the mainstay of every meal . . . Actually the cookhouses are getting quite enterprising in attempts to disguise rice and will continue the good work as time goes on – Biscuits, buns, porridge, duffs, pasties, pies, and so on, all with rice and ground rice bases all help to disguise that white grain that I have never liked and never will again after this. Had we not brought up a considerable portion of hand rations with us, we would have had nothing, as we got nothing from the Japs for a fortnight, now we get frozen meat twice a week, flour, tea, milk (tinned), Ghi (Indian fat), salt, M and V [meat and veg.] or Irish stew in lieu of veg – all in very small quantities. Actually the complete lack of fresh veg is the more serious, deficiency diseases are already creeping in and as time goes on these will reach alarming proportions unless we’re given a more balanced ration. As an example, here’s today’s menu: – ground rice porridge, boiled rice and onion . . . gravy, tea (made Malayan style, weak and without milk and sugar to help the sweets out) – this is our breakfast taken at 0930. Tiffin is at 1330 and today consists of:- Sweet boiled rice, coconut biscuit and tea. Supper at 1830 is a ‘bully’ and rice pasty followed by a coconut rock bun. This is quite an average day’s menu and you will see that rice plays an all too predominant part each day. I have already said that coconuts play an important part in our daily menu, and although an extra flavour, familiarity breeds contempt! To sum up, we have now got accustomed to being permanently hungry.46 Despite these complaints about the bland and inadequate diet, in May 1942 Captain Horner was detailing a meal he was responsible for preparing in honour of Lt.General Beckwith-Smith, the Commanding Officer of the British 18th Division. Horner considered that he had ‘got a good menu together:- tomato soup; braised beef, peas and potatoes; doughnut and cream and sardines on toast’.47 All those present at dinner were officers, and none appeared unduly concerned by the apparently widespread food shortages or the monotony of the diet. On 5 July, Lt. Young, serving with the Royal Engineers, still found the inadequate diet the hardest element of captivity to come to terms with: ‘19 weeks in captivity, it’s bloody not being able to eat. I cannot get my taste back at all due to this unappetising fare . . . I feel very depressed today. Life seems and is futile. Scores must be feeling the same.’48 Some days later he thought that ‘most of us are becoming very depressed. Our whole attitude to anything feels like “just don’t care”. Evidently it is the eventual effect the diet has on one. 7 out of the last 8 lunches have come out of the garden.’49 Horner also noted that ‘the toast [for the above meal] is made at the field bakery that we have now got working and for which a portion of our weekly flour is deducted to give us three issues a fortnight of 1 slice each, about 3/4 inch thick’.50 Both Lt. Young and Captain Horner’s diary entries contain an important admission, albeit an apparently unconscious one. The origin of Young’s most recent lunches did not warrant much comment from Young himself, but it is significant that by July the POWs’ efforts at cultivating their own foodstuffs should have been so successful. This reliance on ‘home’ produced food is also illustrative of the ineffectiveness of the Japanese provision.

46 Adjustments to captivity: March–August 1942 The improvements in diet often came from unexpected sources. Throughout this period large groups of men left either for work in Singapore Town or for destinations overseas. The first significant groups to depart were A Force, which left Changi on 15 May; on 8 July B Force followed.51 A force, comprised of 3,000 men – the vanguard of the railway construction efforts – eventually arrived in southern Burma while B Force, 1,500 men, went to Borneo.52 The impact of the first largescale departure, of A force, had several positive effects on the men left behind. Major Thompson noted that the many accommodation problems were ‘greatly eased by departure’ and that ‘conditions now generally good’. In terms of the food situation at Changi, the departure of troops was wholly beneficial. The departures were accompanied by a marginal increase in the IJA ration scale, with the issue of salt rising by 5 grams to 10, oil by 5 grams to 10 and sugar from 20 grams to 30 daily.53 In addition, Red Cross supplies, for some time the subject of much speculation, also arrived in Singapore on 14 August, courtesy of the South African government. The supplies included 594 bags of ground maize (36,118 lb), 20 lorry loads of cased goods, 76 cases of jam (61,056 lb) 43 cases of dehydrated soup (36,118 lb), 21,240 lb of ‘Kaffir’ corn and 11 cases of sweets (12,210 lb).54 Occasional gifts of foodstuffs were also distributed by the Japanese: the occasion of the Emperor’s birthday, 29 April, was celebrated by a general holiday and the gift of tinned pineapple to all ranks.55 The intention of the Japanese in providing this gift was probably to demonstrate and reinforce their hegemonic position at Changi. Signaller C. Coombs’s comment on the Emperor’s gift, which according to him amounted to just ‘2ozs of pineapple’, was that it was ‘big hearted of him’ – probably as revealing as any about the underlying opinion of the POWs towards their captors, although any additional foodstuff, especially fresh fruit, would have had health benefits.56 Disease was the other great threat at Changi and the ability to resist went handin-hand with an adequate supply of fresh food. In late April, the combined camp medical authorities decided to begin the issue of a 2 oz portion of yeast, grown by the POWs specifically for the purpose, per man, per day in an effort to ward off the effects of beriberi. This was an early indication of the prisoners’ ingenuity. It was also an indication of their growing awareness of what was required to survive.57 Major Gillies, too, was keeping ‘a weeks leave – that sounds good – in other words a week off shit’. He continued that ‘[I] have spent a good deal of time sunbathing . . . it is the only way in which we can acquire vitamin D and so most of us are doing it.’58 Initially it was dysentery that was the main concern, and during the early months of captivity it was increasing dramatically. In response the AIF issued what mosquito nets remained in their stores and declared an ‘all out war on flies’.59 Private Toze found that the British adopted more vigorous, if perhaps more futile, tactics to combat flies. He saw ‘a notice on [a] door this [morning]. Do you like dysentery? No! Does diarrhoea delight you? No! Then make yourselves a swatter and earn ten cigs. (real) for each 500 flies! [signed] Sqn. Ldr. Brocklehurst.’60 Roxburgh, pessimistically, was told that ‘the doctor can’t cure it (dysentery) with

Adjustments to captivity: March–August 1942 47 the medical supplies that we have, so the poor devils who have it will have to suffer it until they are they are better or else till they die’.61 Major Gillies, working in the hospital, treated many men suffering from dysentery. He said of his patients: ‘wounded I like dealing with because they were all cheery and ready to help themselves but these miserable bastards [the dysentery patients] can’t get their minds above their navels all day’.62 Attempts to stem the alarming spread of dysentery via widespread inoculations were less successful than had been hoped, and in fact some men appeared to have contracted the disease after receiving the vaccine.63 The destruction of public amenities in Singapore town during the fighting led to an outbreak of cholera amongst the civilian population. As a precaution all soldiers involved on working parties in Singapore were inoculated against the disease. The Japanese also provided 2,000,000 vitamin B1 tablets, these being handed direct to the POW hospitals to distribute as they saw fit.64 The continued threat of a cholera outbreak in Changi itself necessitated that all personnel engaged in the handling of food receive inoculations against such an eventuality.65 No such outbreak was forthcoming and this appears to have been due largely to the prompt and effective counter-measures put in place by the POWs. Similarly, the POWs also adopted procedures to deal with the ever-present threat of malaria. Anti-malarial precautions, for example the many drains that required continued maintenance to stay effective and had been damaged and neglected during the fighting, were inadequate to combat a malaria outbreak. While the Japanese did agree to allow the civil authorities in Singapore to conduct anti-malarial work outside of the Changi wire in an effort to prevent a malaria epidemic in the POW camp, the POWs themselves also adopted additional precautions.66 POWs were ordered to wear long-sleeved shirts as a measure that offered some degree of protection against mosquito bites. In addition, classes were introduced to train men in ‘mosquito survey work’, with 16 soldiers posted around Changi to keep an eye on potential breeding grounds.67 Despite these initiatives, 250 fresh cases of malaria were reported throughout the camp during July.68 Major Shean was unfortunate enough to be admitted to hospital: Well here I am in hospital . . . I think it’s my old friend Malaria but it might be dengue. The last military hospital I was in was in Bombay. What a difference to this. This is an old barrack block absolutely crammed. The whole place reeks of human excreta and the sickly sweet smell of bad wounds. Considering the difficulties I think it’s quite a good show but the high percentage of dysentery cases makes it’s a nightmare when there is no sanitary system working.69 The hospital at Changi had previously been an accommodation block and as such had not been used for any medical application. For that reason, an ambitious programme to provide much needed lighting, in what was now called Roberts Hospital (it was located in Roberts barracks), was submitted to the IJA. In the short term, however, the POWs began the preliminary work of replacing damaged wiring.70 Significantly, the POWs were capable of achieving an effective electrical

48 Adjustments to captivity: March–August 1942 supply of their own volition. The decision to begin ‘preliminary’ work in tandem with the presentation of a plan to the Japanese combined to present a compelling fait accompli. Even at this stage of captivity, in early July, the nature of captor/ captive interaction was already being formed. The frequent requests to the Japanese were often unheeded and Lt.-Col. Holmes’s conclusion that these were never in fact read is probably true.71 Without the official lead or sanction by the Japanese the POW community was compelled to proceed with activities which they considered vital to the well being of the camp. To have delayed the instigation of such crucial initiatives, while awaiting decisions from the Japanese, may well have had serious ramifications. One month later, Major Thompson’s diary contains the single line, ‘electric lighting to hospital’.72 Additionally, a pig farm was also established in the 18th Division area with the avowed attention of providing an ongoing source of fresh pork for the hospital.73 The initial batch of pigs, however, was supplied by the Japanese. At the end of May 1942, Major Shean wrote wistfully that ‘everyone is short of money and we have asked the Japs. to pay us’.74 On 6 June came surprising news.75 The IJA had agreed to pay POWs a nominal wage at the rate of 25c per day for officers, 15c NCOs and 10c for ORs.76 On 13 June the first pay was issued to the POWs and termed an ‘amenities grant’ by the Japanese.77 Additional funds were also received via the Red Cross from the British government.78 After receiving IJA pay for some weeks, the British and Australian POW administration formulated and implemented an official ‘policy’ concerning the Japanese money. The pay was divided over a ten-day period, with one day’s pay going towards the hospital, two days’ to the unit messing fund with seven days being given to the individual concerned.79 On 25 September 1942 this pay scale was amended, with officers above the rank of Lieutenant (who still received 25c) being now paid 30c.80 Not long after the distribution of the first Japanese pay, a canteen was opened in the camp. Selling a variety of goods, it was run by a local merchant named Gian Singh who had either been approached by the Japanese or they by him. Captain Malet was pleased with the new addition to Changi’s amenities and commented: the opening of the canteen – with toilet requisites for sale – has put an end to the picturesque display of beards! This camp looked like Cape Town during the Voortrekker Centenary Celebrations – beards have had to come off.81 The new canteen facilities prompted widespread feelings of optimism about the future, with Malet writing: ‘if we are left here, at least we do stand a chance of being liberated before the end of the war, if the Yanks do their stuff. Anyhow, in the meantime these are comfortable surroundings.’82

Concerns about home In any environment where restrictions are placed on an individual’s movement and conduct thoughts of home are always apparent and at Changi were ever-present considerations. Indeed this was especially true at Changi where there was an

Adjustments to captivity: March–August 1942 49 ongoing uncertainty over whether or not relatives and loved ones were aware of the situation in Singapore. More particularly, the men at Changi wanted to know whether their families even knew if they were alive or not. While the POWs at Changi had much to be thankful for, the lack of regular communication with home taxed them considerably for the whole time of their captivity. On 2 March Alec Hodgson remembered that it was his wife’s birthday, prompting him to ponder, ‘[I] wonder if she knows I am safe yet.’83 Hodgson articulated the thoughts of many when he noted that ‘this lack of news of anything whatsoever is the worst part’. Similarly, Lt. Young considered that ‘what nearly all of us are thinking about nowadays and longing to do is to write some word home and receive letters’.84 These general concerns would seem to be indicative both of the comparatively comfortable existence at Changi (i.e. that the POWs had the time and energy to devote to such thoughts) as well as the extent to which regular correspondence with home served to moderate life as a POW.85 The regular and efficient mail service established with German-held POWs was never replicated for their Japanese counterparts. As early as March 1942 this problem was debated in London, with a variety of routes being considered and with the GPO attempting to secure a postal service with Tokyo.86 Ultimately, the reception of mail at Changi was infrequent, and the Japanese only allowed mail to be sent from Changi on five separate occasions.87 At the end of March, the first full month of captivity, the Japanese announced that the lists detailing the names of those captured alive after the Singapore surrender had finally been forwarded to their respective destinations.88 The hope that the POWs entertained of being able to send mail themselves was still, as yet, refused.89 As late as August 1942, however, Foreign Office (FO) correspondence reveals that nothing concrete in terms of names of POWs had been received from the Japanese, with the FO asking their representative in Lourenco Marques, site of previous diplomatic exchanges, ‘were there any capture cards or other British mail from the Far East received via American exchange ships?’90 The reply was still, ‘nothing received’.91 Japanese assurances that relatives at home knew that the POWs were safe and well were not wholly convincing. In April, Alec Hodgson was still wondering whether his family had heard any news of his fate, although he was fortunate that the ‘last letter [received prior to being taken prisoner] from Mary was dated just three months ago, Jan. 17th’.92 Hodgson still considered that ‘if only one knew that everything was OK at home and that they knew we were more or less all right things would be considerably more bearable but this lack of knowledge of everything in which a man is interested is the worst part of the business’.93 Captain Malet’s diary entries over the same period echo these concerns. On 25 April 1942 he wrote: Our Prue’s birthday – her 15th bless her – and I’m terrified she’ll be almost grown up by the time I see her again. I must get back to the family the moment we’re out of this dump and damn the estate. We drink Prudy’s health in tea in

50 Adjustments to captivity: March–August 1942 the mess . . . if only they all knew we were safe and well, it would make all the difference. The uncertainty of everything must be pretty deadly and I know how Jo worries herself sick and cannot show it in front of the kids. Please God soon the Japs will allow us to write or send our casualty lists home . . . via a neutral country . . . 94 The desire to establish communication with home had, if anything, only increased with the passage of time. Captain Ledingham wrote: After three months getting damned bored and despondent. Scandal that our names have not yet been sent home. It must be hellish for the folks and Anne. I just hope that Anne will keep on hoping and not give up. It would be grand to have some news . . . 95 Later that month Lt. Baillies wrote that ‘we also learnt that the Japanese won’t permit any communication or parcels through the Red Cross [prior to receiving parcels], unless Britain recognises Malaya as Jap. property, so that’s that. We have only the word of two Jap. officers that the lists of our names have gone through.’96 Back in England the position was no clearer, however. For Private A.C. Dean’s family, the wait for official confirmation of their son’s situation was a long-drawnout process. On 2 April 1942 his parents received a letter from the Infantry Record Office. Impersonally addressed, ‘Dear Sir/Madam’, it stated: According to records of this office No. 5933220 Dean A.C. The Cambs. Regt. was serving in Malaya when the garrison capitulated on the 15 February 1942. Every effort is being made through diplomatic and other channels to obtain information concerning him. It is hoped that he is safe and although he may be a prisoner of war, it is necessary to post him as ‘Missing’ pending receipt of some definite information. Immediately any information is obtained it will be sent to you.97 On 3 April 1942 Dean’s family received the official ‘notification of missing status’. This letter contained the line: ‘The report that he is missing does not necessarily mean that he has been killed, as he may be a prisoner of war or temporarily separated from his regiment.’98 Over a month later, on 27 May, another letter arrived, this time from the ‘Regimental Paymaster, Ilfracombe’. This missive wrongly identified Dean as a member of the Suffolk Regiment and asserted that ‘The Voluntary Allotment at present being paid to you on his behalf will be continued until 2.8.42 at 14/- per week.’99 It continued by saying: ‘I have to inform you that should the soldier still remain missing at the end of 17 weeks a further communication will be forwarded to you by the War Office as to whether you are entitled to any allowance for a further period.’100 Not until nearly a year later, on 22 April 1943, did Army Form B. 104–83A arrive with the news that ‘I have to inform you that a report has been received from the War Office that (No.) 5933220 (Rank) Private. Dean A.C. is a POW at (HW) Malai Camp.’101 Only after 14 months of conjecture could Dean’s family be

Adjustments to captivity: March–August 1942 51 assured of his ultimate fate. Whether this is typical, or whether Dean was in peculiar circumstances that caused his notification to be delayed, is unclear. It hardly need be said that by the time that relatives had received notification that their son or husband was a POW, he might have died as a result of wounds or disease or hard labour on the railway. The attempts by the International Red Cross to inspect Japanese camps were generally unsuccessful throughout the war, and much reposed on their local representatives. In April 1942 the Australian Red Cross representative in Changi, Mr Roberts, managed to secure a meeting with General Yamashita himself and obtained a promise that the POWs ‘rolls’ (the lists of names of men captured by the Japanese) would be despatched soon, thus casting doubt on the promises already obtained. Roberts also obtained promises that correspondence with the outside world would soon be allowed, that a canteen would be established and that additional purchases for the hospital would be allowed.102 The Red Cross representative was also given a car and a pass to Singapore. Days later, on 14 April, these privileges were permanently withdrawn.103 More general information about the fate of the Singapore garrison was also speculative. The Times newspaper of 4 June 1942 carried an article entitled ‘Japanese Treatment of Prisoners’, and read: The War Office announces that no further official information has been received on the treatment of Imperial Prisoners of War in Japanese hands. From other sources, however, news had been received which suggests that conditions have improved. At Singapore the prisoners of war are reported to be housed in good barracks accommodation in a healthy part of the island. The water supply is said to be again available, and there are sufficient supplies of food for the present. The Japanese officer in charge of the prisoners there is stated to be a Christian, educated in England, whose attitude is sympathetic.104 There is no evidence to substantiate any of the claims concerning the provenance of Lt. Okasaki’s education or religious disposition, at this point the Japanese officer in command at Changi. The extent to which the British and Allied authorities were aware of the conditions in Malaya and Singapore was minimal. The Red Cross met with ‘most serious difficulties’ in obtaining permission to visit any Japanese POW camps, and permission was only given for camps in Japanese territory and not occupied territory.105 In 1944, at a meeting of the British Red Cross Society on POWs and Civilian Internees in the Far East, the delegates discussed the fact that the International Red Cross Committee representative had not been granted access to any camps in Singapore and that ‘we were in almost complete ignorance as to whether there were any POWs still in Singapore or Malaya’.106 The lack of information available to the Red Cross is in contrast to the widespread official knowledge of the building of the Burma–Thailand railway and the participation in its construction of large numbers of POWs under appalling conditions. These

52 Adjustments to captivity: March–August 1942 comments do not, obviously, refer to Roberts at Changi, who was interned with other civilians and not in contact with the outside world. However, all was not totally bleak as in June 1942 came the welcome news that all the prisoners held at Changi would be issued with a postcard, one per man, for the purpose of writing to their next of kin.107 Although the length of the message was restricted to just 24 words, the need to communicate with home, so long desired, was at least partially satisfied. The postcards were accompanied by the following somewhat exhaustive Japanese instructions on what, and how, to write, as well as exhaustive notes on what not to write: Regulations for Postcard Messages. (1) The message must be written in writing that can be read at a glance, not in a scribble that is not legible and is scrawled all over the card; like 40% of the cards already handed in. (2) Short messages in block letters will be the ideal form of communication and have preference over all kinds of writing; these cards will be despatched first of all; brevity and clearness of writing should be impressed on all ranks if they wish their short message to reach home. (3) Messages must be written in ENGLISH only. The ADDRESS MUST BE IN BLOCK LETTERS; there must be no mention of the location of the POW camp or any other camp; there must be no mention of the place or country you are in; there must be no mention of personal movements and no mention of politics, official business, trading or commercial enterprise or matters (sic) concerned with it. (4) POSTCARDS must not be addressed from one Prisoner of War to another; postcards will only be sent to the country of origin of the Prisoner of War; postcards will not be sent by the way of one country to another. (5) The use of CODE WORDS, words with a DOUBLE MEANING; the use of SECRET INKS or the use of BRAILLE is prohibited – as well as any other form of secret or special writing. (6) The NAME, NUMBER and RANK of the sender must be written on the back of the card in BLOCK LETTERS. (7) ALL RANKS MUST BE INFORMED of these simple rules and must understand that they are NOT WRITING A LETTER but a SHORT EASILY READ MESSAGE (which the censor CAN READ AT A GLANCE) on the back of a postcard. Failure to comply with this rule means that the opportunity to communicate with home has been lost entirely. (8) THESE RULES MUST BE CONVEYED TO ALL RANKS BEFORE THE POSTCARDS ARE ISSUED.108 (sgd) Lt. Okasaki The POW authorities also issued their own, extensive, instructions with regard to the postcard, which were conceived to supplement the Japanese orders with a view

Adjustments to captivity: March–August 1942 53 to avoiding trouble before the Japanese had time to raise their own questions over the content of the postcards. June 18th 1942 ALL AREA COMDS:

For the Imperial Japanese Army Headquarters Q924. HQ AIF 19 Jun. 42

Communication with home 1. Attached is a copy of an IJA Order in connection with Post Cards to be despatched to the Next of Kin etc. of Axis Ps of W. The Post Cards are to be used merely to convey a simple message to his home that a soldier is a POW and in a certain state of health. A personal message regarding health etc. is all that may be written on a postcard and must not exceed 6 lines. Sample message is hereunder: NAME, NUMBER, RANK. (in block letters) ‘MY DARLING WIFE, I AM A PRISONER OF WAR. I WAS WOUNDED IN THE CHEST BUT AM NOW QUITE WELL. BEST LOVE TO YOURSELF AND THE CHILDREN.’ (SIGNATURE) 2. Area Comds will ensure that all ranks are informed of the contents of this memo and the attachment before the cards are written and organise a system of ‘Censorship’ which will ensure that the prompt despatch of the Post Cards is not jeopardised by any infringement of the IJA Order. Disregard of the regulations will mean destruction of the Post Card. No replacements are available. 3. One Post Card is available for each member of the AIF in Camp as shown on Unit Strength Return at the 16th June 42. Special Arrangements are being made to issue Post Cards to Camps in Singapore and to the A.G.H. [Australian General Hospital]. 4. Post Cards herewith. 5. All Post Cards MUST be completed and handed in to this HQ by 1600 hrs on 20 Jun. 42, All postcards not in by this time will miss the post. 6. Reference attached instructions from the IJA Para (3) Everything except signature will be set out in block letters not smaller than: [hand written] ‘ABCDEFG’ nor more closely spaced. No idioms such as ‘Cheerio’, ‘Whacko’, ‘Whoopee’, ‘Kiip [sic] your Chin Up’ will be used. No ‘x’s for kisses or similar abbreviations. These rules are to ensure that every man’s postcard is sent off with the least possible delay.109

54 Adjustments to captivity: March–August 1942 The POW response was predictably positive. Lt. Baillies noted in his diary: Quite a red letter day, for we have been issued with postcards which may be sent home. The message must be short and easily read. I printed mine, some eighteen words in all. How I hope that it will reach home safely and quickly. I know how it must be for those at home, getting no news. I think it is the best thing that has happened yet.110 Captain Horner was similarly elated, ‘a day of days! – we were all given a postcard and allowed to send a message home, I do so hope it gets through OK so that they’ll know we’re in good health’.111 While the men at Changi continued to worry about the list of their names reaching home, The Times newspaper ran an article entitled ‘Prisoner List Held Up’. This reported that ‘the full list of names of prisoners of war and civilians expected to become available when an exchange ship arrived at Lourenco Marques in Portuguese East Africa, is still missing and new official inquiries are being made as to when it will be forwarded’.112 In Singapore, Staff Sergeant E.W. Burrey was still confident that the list would make it, commenting that ‘today’s Syonan Times [the Japanese-sponsored newspaper that had taken over from the Straits Times, ‘Syonan’ being the Japanese word for Singapore] says that our casualty lists have at last reached home. I can just picture the relief my folks will experience when they learn that I am safe after all these long months.’113 Even without any firm news, and the Syonan Times was hardly the most reliable source of information, the mere prospect of these names arriving home proved to be of some solace.

A prison camp at last: the ‘wiring-in’ of Changi The unrestricted life at Changi was not to last. The comparatively unstructured days were soon ended, and life at Changi began to settle into something approaching a routine, both as a result of POW initiatives and specific Japanese directions. In March, the IJA issued the following specific instructions about POW conduct: firstly that reveille was to be at 08.00, breakfast at 09.00, work from 10.30–13.30, a lunchtime meal and rest between 13.30 and 14.30, an afternoon work period 14.30–18.00, with an evening meal at 18.30, roll call at 21.30 and lights out at 22.15.114 While these times are somewhat deceptive, as Singapore had adopted Tokyo time on 19 February, this regimen is still a comparatively relaxed one.115 Interestingly, when Russell Braddon and his fellow POWs from Pudu gaol were moved south to Changi they were surprised at the ‘docile acceptance of Tokyo time as the camp standard, rather than the old British time to which we in Kuala Lumpur had clung so tenaciously’.116 This symbol of resistance and defiance of the Japanese had an echo at the end of the war. A return to Singapore time, one and a half hours back, was one of the first actions of the POWs in the aftermath of the Japanese surrender in 1945.117 While Japanese influence on day-to-day events was minimal, their presence was made apparent in certain specific actions and instructions that served to bring home

Adjustments to captivity: March–August 1942 55 the reality of captivity to the POWs. To start with, at the beginning of May, the Japanese demanded details of all ‘engineer prisoners’ in the camp.118 Some days later General Percival himself was required to serve a term of imprisonment for refusing to supply ‘radio announcers’ and ‘technicians for repairing A.A. guns’ which the Japanese had demanded. As well as this sanction General Lewis Heath, Percival’s deputy and Commander of the 3rd Indian Corps, was also imprisoned for declining to ‘discuss the defences of India’ with the Japanese.119 Major Shean, like many of his fellow officers, was obliged to submit two reports to the Japanese, on 15 March and 30 March respectively, concerned with ‘The Administration of a Corps’ and ‘System of water supply to British, Australian and Indian Troops’. Shean felt uncomfortable about these activities. When asked to write a third report, he submitted a letter to his Commanding Officer, Brigadier H.F. Lucas, detailing why he felt he could not do so: After writing this last report, however, I made up my mind that I could not carry out any further tasks of a similar nature and hoped that I should not be called upon to do so. It is with much reluctance and after much thought that I feel bound to inform you, most respectfully, that I am unable to do so.120 Lt. Baume had a similar experience: The Nips are trying to get information out of us concerning our guns. General Heath has been through a certain amount of the 3rd degree in an attempt to get valuable information out of him but needless to say he did not speak. We are determined to do likewise; in fact, we have already been ordered to fill in forms on how to fire our guns. A typical reply is that of the 5th Field: ‘open the breech. Put the shells in. Close the breech. Fire.’121 These Japanese attempts at obtaining information appeared relatively innocuous and were not accompanied by any measure of physical intimidation. Indeed, the nature of much of the requested material seemed trivial, although this may well have been part of the plan to persuade officers to co-operate because much of it was requested in isolation. When pieced together the larger picture of British (and Allied) activity may have held real value for the Japanese. On 4 March, the Japanese issued a new instruction concerning a subject dear to many officers’ hearts. The Japanese ordered that officers’ rank badges were to be taken down and instead substituted by a single star, worn on the left breast pocket.122 This instruction caused much resentment on the part of the POWs who could not see the point other than to re-enforce the Japanese position of authority. In addition to their instructions about badges of rank, the Japanese also moved to construct a permanent fence around the occupied areas of Changi and to end the popular practice of POWs wandering at will around the Changi camp generally as well into Singapore town itself for the braver souls. This lack of an external, physical constraint on the POWs and the camp itself had been one of Changi’s defining characteristics and that which elicited the most comment from the prisoners themselves.123

56 Adjustments to captivity: March–August 1942 While the construction of a restraining fence seemed, superficially, to assert Changi’s identity as a prison camp, the method of its construction, paradoxically, had rather exactly the opposite effect. On 7 March 1942, the POWs began what Roxburgh termed ‘wiring ourselves in under IJA orders’. ‘The last few days’, wrote Roxburgh, ‘working parties have been finishing a barbed wire barricade around the whole camp. It consists of 2 lines of double apron fence with a triple concertina fence in between them.’124 Roxburgh thought that ‘it is so good a job that a cat could hardly get through. When we go outside the camp area one of our officers is put in charge of us.’125 The incongruity of the POWs themselves performing the wiring-in task was all too apparent. Private Houghton considered that ‘this [Changi] is the funniest Camp in the world. We had to wire ourselves in with barbed wire so that we could not escape.’126 Captain Dickson’s experience of wiring was even stranger as his Commanding Officer was obliged to source his own wire as well as to put it up.127 Captain Malet gave a full description of the geography of the wiring-in procedure: March 13th. . . . about now the prison camp area – confined only hitherto by one barbed wire fence across the Island, was wired off into separate ‘areas’ according to our military Divisions. Thus the AIF (Aussies) have the nearest area to the main wire (Changi civilian Gaol end), and they occupy the old Selarang Barracks to the West of the main road. Opposite them, to the East of the road is the 11th Indian Division area. Then nearer Changi end and on both sides of the main road comes the 18th Division (British) Artillery, Herts. and Beds, Cambridgeshire’s, Norfolk’s etc. Further on still, at the end of the road is our area – Southern Area, which includes Changi village, the point, Govt. House, the yacht club etc., very pretty and surrounded by sea on the North and East. Here are gunners, sappers, two Malayan Infantry brigades, the Loyals, Gordons, Manchester’s, S.S. and F.M.S. and un-federated states Volunteers units etc., In the angle between us and the 18th Div. is Temple Hill, which houses the 3rd Corps H.Q. then C.I.C. Divisional and Bdn. staffs, of the 9th Div. (Maj. Gen. Keys), 8th and 28th Ind. Bdes. etc. And also then Robert’s Barracks area, which is now all hospital and unfortunately, very full.128 The barbed wire fence, despite Roxburgh’s assertions about its ineffectiveness, was apparently easy to negotiate should the need arise. When Cyril Coombs decided that he wanted a change of scene some two months later, the newly erected wire, it seems, was not sufficient to restrain him: Whit Sun 24 May ’42. Em., Jack and I broke out of camp and walked into town. We had no trouble whatever from the Japs. The hospitality of the Chinese was wonderful . . . not only did the Chinese give us food, but also money, one gave us a dollar (which to them is a lot of money).129 Irrespective of the extent to which the wire provided a serious physical barrier, it did at least demonstrate an important psychological impact. Lt. J. Richardson

Adjustments to captivity: March–August 1942 57 commented after the wiring-in that ‘we are beginning to feel we are POWs in truth. But we do not notice the wire very much.’130 The degree to which the Japanese themselves believed that this wire could deter the most determined prisoners from attempting to escape was probably apparent in an announcement that anyone found beyond this perimeter wire was liable to be shot. This notice also served to emphasise the symbolic nature of the wire to the POWs themselves and to demonstrate that a few inadequate strands of wire did not solely govern their confinement. Each area of the Changi camp was required to submit a report to Malaya Command, every month, which, in turn, submitted a report to the Japanese. Curiously, each area was required to inspect the perimeter wire in its vicinity and produce an addendum to its monthly report detailing both the serviceability of the wire around their own area and whether or not any repairs had been undertaken, again conducted by the men who were ostensibly meant to be confined by that same wire.131 Sergeant Hodgson also wrote of another particular temptation: there is a story about that the Chinese are coming to the fence and telling the chaps that they will guarantee passage to the mainland and guidance to Selangor. I think I’ll have a crack if I can get in touch with them although the perimeter is much better guarded now that the Indians are on.132 While these rumours were circulating, and hopes rising proportionally, the Japanese issued more specific warnings with regard to absenteeism outside the perimeter wire: JAPANESE ORDERS FOR CHANGI POW CAMP H.Q. AIF 21st March 1942 To All Units: Prisoners of War. (1) AS INDICATED AT YESTERDAY’S CONFERENCE THREE (3) POWs ATTEMPTING TO ESCAPE WERE EXECUTED BY ORDER OF THE JAPANESE HIGH COMMAND. (2) A STAFF OFFICER FROM JAPANESE HIGH COMMAND HAS AGAIN INDICATED THAT ANY PRISONER ATTEMPTING TO ESCAPE WILL BE SHOT. (3) THE JAPANESE HIGH COMMAND HAVE STATED THAT WHEN MEN ARE APPREHENDED OUTSIDE AIF WIRE NOT ONLY WILL OTHER RANKS BE DEALT WITH BUT THE OFFICER RESPONSIBLE FOR THEIR DISCIPLINE WILL BE LIABLE. (4) PARTIES UNDER OFFICERS CONTROL ONLY WILL BE ALLOWED OUTSIDE AIF WIRE, AND THEN ONLY WITH DIVISIONAL PASSES. UNTIL FLAGS ARE ISSUED BY JAPANESE COMMAND LIMITS OF MOVEMENT WILL BE DIRECTED TO AIF AREA OUTSIDE CAMP AREA AND DIRECTED BACK AGAIN, FOR

58 Adjustments to captivity: March–August 1942 DUTY, COLLECTING FIREWOOD ETC. AND THEN ONLY ON ORDERS OF DIVISIONAL H.Q. (5) THIS ORDER OF JAPANESE HIGH COMMAND WILL BE READ ON ALL PARADES FOR TWO (2) DAYS COMMENCING 14.30 HOURS 21ST MARCH 1942.133 The determination of the Japanese to enforce their new rules concerning activity outside the wire was undiminished, with the notification that ‘Jap. patrols will move around the wire area in future and anybody caught outside will not be returned to camp but taken to Singapore and punished severely.’134 Cyril Coombs, as we have seen, was undeterred by the restrictions on movement. He noted: ‘men breaking out of camp and going into town and coming back loaded with foodstuffs . . . chaps said the Japs don’t bother about you downtown’.135 The rigmarole of moving between the separately wired areas became a central feature of life at Changi, and the AIF issued specific instructions about movement and access between areas. POWs could move around if accompanied by a fellow POW displaying a Japanese supplied ‘flag’ to identify themselves. General Percival was requesting additional ‘flags’, guaranteeing passage between areas, as early as the end of March 1942.136 The use of a ‘ferry’ system whereby an individual in possession of a flag could ferry additional POWs from area to area was also common. The AIF issued no fewer than eight separate Routine Orders concerning the conduct of these ‘ferry’ services.137 Entry into other formation areas was allowed only with permission from that formation: into the AIF main area was with permission from the AIF HQ and admission for individuals into the AIF camp area was by special pass issued by the Japanese authorities, Malaya Comd. or HQ AIF, or when wearing special armbands issued by the Japanese or staff officers.138 While the movement between areas was facilitated by the introduction of passes and flags, for the majority of men the reality of being a POW was now becoming ever more obvious as the freedoms apparent after the surrender were progressively curtailed during March 1942.139 The Japanese informed Lt. Young that ‘abusing the flag system would result in 1/2 rations’.140 Things were to get worse, however, with what were perceived as far greater Japanese liberties being taken, far greater than restrictions on movement and badges of rank. On 31 March Sikh soldiers, recruited from British Indian Army POWs into the Japanese-sponsored Indian National Army, were placed at sites around the boundary fence.141 The men at Changi were required to salute them at all times.142 Major Shean thought this the final indignity and that it represented deeper concerns: We are all absolutely livid – the Japs. have ordered us to salute renegade Sikh sentries. We all want the G.O.C. to say NO to the Japs. but he hasn’t done so. I think it’s the only time. We salute Japs. as our legitimate captors but the last straw is to have to salute traitors. I’m buggarized if I’m going to and hope I won’t be shot. There have already been several nasty incidents and beatings up and the G.O.C. has sent in a ‘protest.’ But the Japs. merely use our

Adjustments to captivity: March–August 1942 59 ‘protests’ for toilet paper. Nothing we do is united and led. Everything is left to the individual who, according to his scruples, suffers or otherwise – the same as essay writing and the whole campaign for that matter. What could the Japs. have done if the G.O.C. had said that he regretted he could not countenance us saluting Sikh sentries.143 Other POWs seemed to be less concerned by this new development. The irrepressible Lt. Baume claimed that: There is trouble with the Indian free army who have a guard room just outside our gate. We have been ordered to salute the Sikhs and other guards but this we flatly refused to do. Sometimes when we meet a sentry on the road we are numerous enough to threaten him and force him to climb down but on other occasions the guards try to take it out of us [sic] especially out of the officers.144 Alec Hodgson wrote, ‘Indian guards mounted ’round the wire and Jap. orders are that they are to be saluted’.145 Gilbert Inglefield’s comments were more generous and more balanced. He thought that: ‘In reality most of them had been forced under threat of torture and death [to change sides] so could we really blame poor bewildered Sepoys, seeing the might of Britain temporarily eclipsed and her earthly citadels for the moment crashing in ruins, for being won over by hollow words.’146 Lt.-Col. Holmes, in his report on captivity, noted that this period, from February to August 1942, was one in which ‘Officers and men were still dazed by the events of February and the endless petty restrictions of the Imperial Japanese Army, such as saluting Indian guards and depriving Officers of badges of rank, still caused bitterness.’147 These ‘petty restrictions’ were in fact more considered than they at first appeared, certainly in terms of how the IJA perceived them. The Japanese were keenly aware of the significance of the interactions between captor and captive. A captured Japanese report from this period is informative as it details the extent to which Japanese actions were planned and considered with specific goals in mind: You must have sufficient self respect to place your selves on a higher level and use them like Canton coolies. In giving orders, use bugles, whistles or JAPANESE words of command and make them do exactly as the JAPANESE army wishes.148 In the years and months to come, the IJA at Changi would begin to issue commands in Japanese and expect the POWs to respond accordingly. In the early months other forms of command, such as that cited above, were more common. As the POW population began to exhibit more of an independent character so too did the Japanese change their methods of exerting their authority. While the POW administration struggled against the raft of external problems, internal discipline still remained a problem. Major Thompson recorded that the

60 Adjustments to captivity: March–August 1942 ‘G.O.C stressed the necessity to maintain morale and discipline’ in an address to senior officers. He also noted that ‘stealing [was] rife, gambling prevalent, [and the] black market continues’.149 Captain Malet wrote at this time that the ‘black market is now at its height. This racket is run mainly by the Aussies (who were nearest the outside perimeter wire) and the regulars – Gordons and Manchester’s being the King pins of Southern Area.’150 Malet said that ‘stores of tinned stuff are run through the wire in collusion with the Sepoy guards and sometimes the Japs too’.151 CSM Romney thought that the ‘large numbers of Gordons and Manchesters leaving on working parties for Singapore encountered frequent trading opportunities’.152 Romney considered that the ‘black marketers are being helped by the working parties who return from Singapore. There they can buy bully for 35 cents a tin and pineapple for 30 cents a tin; in camp the price is about $4.’153 In light of the constant problems of stealing, a Provost patrol was established ostensibly to ‘enforce dress discipline and saluting’, but with an eye on the stealing problem.154 Concerns over the levels of stealing became more apparent in the aftermath of the arrival of the Red Cross supplies: $686 worth of Red Cross supplies were missing before distribution and the AIF, as the formation supplying the fatigue party that delivered these supplies, was held responsible. Lt.-Col. Galleghan, however, while expressing his regret, asserted that certain goods were already missing. For this reason he was only prepared to make a payment of $230 from AIF funds.155 As a result of the missing goods Galleghan addressed B Area, within the AIF area responsible for the loss of rations, and emphasised what he termed the ‘need for fair play’.156 Galleghan was a disciplinarian generally and these incidents served only to confirm in his mind, and indeed in the minds of other senior officers at Changi, of the need to maintain discipline. It needed to be maintained, firstly to prevent anarchy, but secondly to ensure that the Japanese did not feel obliged to intervene and impose their own form of authority and discipline on the POWs, a variety of discipline that was certain to be unpleasant by comparison.

Education and entertainment This period at Changi, when the numbers of men confined were at their highest levels, was also the peak of interest in, and provision of, a vast array of educational classes. These together became known as the ‘University of Changi’. The British 18th Division established what it described as a ‘Divisional University’ in March, soon after the surrender. Interest in this activity was such that ‘lecturers chosen for the University Staff will be freed from any military duties which might interfere with their duties as lecturers’.157 Similar Australian schemes under Brigadier Taylor were also organised, and at their peak some 9,000 POWs were involved out of a population of 45,562.158 As well as freeing lecturers to conduct classes, the 18th Division also specified that ‘every effort will be made to ensure that candidates who have been admitted as students . . . will be free to attend the classes and lectures’.159 The priorities of the POW authorities, while laudable, soon changed in the face of the reality of prolonged captivity.

Adjustments to captivity: March–August 1942 61 As the Japanese diverted more and more men onto work parties in Singapore and overseas, the loss of these men severely curtailed the ability of the ‘University’ to offer as great a range of activities as it wished, as well as eroding the number of potential students. Given the number of men involved, both doing the educating and being educated, however, in tandem with growing concerns over food shortages, it was unsurprising that an instruction was soon issued to the effect that ‘agriculture and fishing should take priority over education’.160 Concerts and other theatrical performances also formed a staple element of POW life at Changi, with both Australian and British troops staging a wide variety of productions and each, in turn, reflecting individual cultural preoccupations. Captain Horner went to see a performance given by British troops: In the evening went to see ‘Hellsabuzzin’ given by Southern Area. They use the old open air cinema. An excellent show including a female impersonator who couldn’t be told from the real thing. Were the men’s eyes popping!161 The importance of these recreational diversions are obvious, although the female characters appear to have been one of the principal interests in this particular show. Lt. Baillies also noted their presence, ‘was at the show “hellsabuzzin” it was really excellent, and the two female impersonators almost looked too good, it made one realise what a woman looked like again, something which is best forgotten’.162 Captain Malet was similarly moved: ‘the AIF have an excellent woman impersonator very pretty fellow called Wood – an Englishman who used to broadcast in Australia and who acted for the screen a lot at home’.163 Malet continued that the premier female impersonator in Changi was from the Southern Area concert party, a man named ‘Gloria D’Earie – otherwise known as Bombardier Arthur Butler of the 122nd Regt. Royal Artillery. He is a professional stage female impersonator and is probably one of the best seen on any stage.’164 Malet thought that ‘ “she” is exquisite – makes all “her” own dresses and wears them beautifully. Every look and gesture completely feminine.’165

The departure of senior allied officers from Changi On 18 July came a new Japanese instruction that would have a profound impact on Changi. The Japanese informed the camp that all senior officers, i.e. those above the rank of colonel, engineer officers included, would soon leave Changi under Japanese instructions and move to Japan. In addition, another working party consisting of a further 1,000 men were also to leave.166 In anticipation of this move Percival appointed a successor to command the camp, Lt.-Col. E.B. Holmes of the Manchester Regiment. Holmes was to take over as Commander British and Australian POWs. Similarly, Major-General Callaghan, the senior Australian officer under Percival, appointed Lt.-Col. F.G. Galleghan, 2/30th Battalion AIF as Commander of the AIF.167 Additionally, Percival appointed Galleghan as second in command of all POWs at Changi, and on 26 August 1942 Holmes ‘nominated Commander AIF [Galleghan] as his successor to command the camp should

62 Adjustments to captivity: March–August 1942 anything happen to him’.168 Holmes and Galleghan proved to be the two main pillars of the POW community in the coming years. On 21 July, Lt.-Col. Galleghan took command of all AIF troops in Malaya.169 On 16 August the Japanese made good their decision to send the senior officers overseas and removed all ‘officers of the rank of Col. and upwards’ from Changi.170 The departure of the senior officers was noted, but not lamented, by Major Shean: Well – the special and A Japan party left yesterday. It is probably a day unparalleled in Br. military history that so many senior officers have left their troops and staff and left so few regrets behind. We all naturally went and said goodbye but it was pretty insincere on both sides. It’s not so much that we do not like our commander and senior staff officers for anything they did or did not do during operations but is due to (a) what we think was their weak and vacillating policy with the Japs. once we’ve been their prisoners and more especially (b) their complete lack of personal and friendly interest in their subordinates and their selfishness in ensuring that they lived at such a high standard here that they were completely blinded to the needs of all the rest of the movers . . . it’s very sad and never before have I seen so many senior officers thoroughly despised . . . 171 This group included General Percival, GOC Malaya, Major-General C.A. Callaghan, Comd. AIF, and General Overaker of the Netherlands East Indies forces.172 These men left for Japan and thence to internment on the island of Formosa.173 Eventually, in October 1944, they were moved to Japanese-held Manchuria and finally liberated by the Americans.174 This decapitation of the POW body ensured that comparatively junior officers now assumed considerable responsibilities, a consideration that would prove significant for the development of the POW community. It also meant that those senior officers who left took with them the lion’s share of the blame, as many men saw it, for the fall of Singapore and Malaya. While those who were left were comparatively junior they at least did not have to bear the responsibility for the surrender in the same way as Percival. At the same time, a new Japanese officer arrived. Major-General Shimpei Fukuye now assumed direct control of POW camps in Malaya and Singapore, while the previous commandant, Lt. Okasaki, remained on the administrative staff of Changi.175 The new Japanese officer’s debut before his POW charges was inauspicious. Lt. Baillies wrote that ‘all of us summoned . . . by General Fukuye. He addressed us with the aid of an interpreter, the main theme being that if we played ball the Japs would too. Troops were inclined to giggle at the pompous little man and silly language.’176

Thoughts on captivity By the end of August 1942 the men at Changi had adapted remarkably well to the privations of captivity, although it was still a comparatively comfortable place of

Adjustments to captivity: March–August 1942 63 detention. The realities of life as prisoners of the Japanese had not really come home forcibly to those at Changi, although the large numbers of men moved out to work in Singapore, and quartered elsewhere, began to realise the extent of the good life that pertained at Changi. In June, Lt. Baillies found it more peaceful than at any time before, ‘we have developed the habit of sitting up after “lights out” at 10.45pm.’: we take a couple of chairs out on the lawn and talk in peace, it’s something to have the place to ourselves, and we talk of what we’ll do when we are free and the places we’ll visit. It’s only by looking forward, that one finds life bearable, for this is mere existence. There is only about 25% of us left at Changi now.177 When Cyril Coombs returned from a working party at Bukit Timah he was astonished to see ‘Changi practically deserted’.178 CSM Romney was moved to the Havelock road camp in Singapore and found the difference between there and Changi initially shocking. He considered that ‘this is bloody awful. We now realise that we are prisoners of war. Compared with conditions in this Havelock road camp we were on velvet at Changi.’179 Between 17 and 18 July, prior to his departure, General Percival was also able to visit POW camps in Singapore. He concluded that all of these camps were gravely short of medical supplies, with the possible exception of the men working at ‘The Great World’, an amusement park in Singapore, where pilfering was rife and medical supplies were more easily obtainable as a result.180 While large groups of men continued to leave Singapore, their various destinations, if not their actual fate, were becoming more apparent. Lt. Baillies wrote, quite accurately, that ‘the latest batch to leave Changi are rumoured to have gone to Siam, where they are working on a railway’.181 Alec Hodgson went to Burma with A force. On 7 May he wrote in his diary that ‘Official notice that 8000 men required for working party. All men to be medically examined. Naturally all sort of conjectures flying about but nobody knows anything definite.’182 The next day Hodgson speculated on what his fate would be. He thought initially: ‘[we are] going to Timor to be exchanged for 50,000 Japs . . . discipline to be rigid in case of trouble. Transfer to be completed in 3 months. Churchill not too pleased.’183 Months later, in August, Private Edmund Broad wrote that ‘the boreholes [so named because these rumours were popularly exchanged at the site of the latrines, as well being as an oblique comment on the substance of these rumours] have it that “A” force have been released at Victoria point in Burma. One of the other boreholes says that they haven’t been released at all but had made a planned break.’184 Neither rumour proved to be accurate. Captain Horner attempted to sum up his feelings after six months in captivity: 17 August. It is now six months to the day since we came to Changi and possibly a comparison of conditions then and now would not be out of place. In the early days food was very scarce and had we not brought tinned goods

64 Adjustments to captivity: March–August 1942 up with us we would have had nothing for the first fortnight. When this was used up and we had to subsist on IJA rations we were very hungry. Now we are able to supplement in some degree by canteen purchases and as far as messing is concerned (this is my province) the job is to dish up the same old thing in as many ways as possible so although the basic ingredients are the same, a variety is offered by different shapes and flavours. We have electric light now, which we didn’t have before and showers laid on from the main. So on the whole I suppose we shouldn’t grumble.185 Changi POW camp had made significant, collective, strides since the surrender. Captivity was being shaped, to a very great extent, by the captives themselves and frequently without any reference to their elusive captors. On 30 August, however, the Japanese issued a demand that all POWs at Changi sign ‘no escape parole forms’ and, in doing so, afforded the men at Changi the chance of opposing the wishes of their captors in a more tangible manner.186 Given the disappointments of the actual fighting in Singapore, this would prove a significant experience for many prisoners.

4

The Selarang barrack square incident

The Changi POW camp had developed considerably since 15 February. Now, at the end of August, the POWs would face their most significant challenge since the fighting itself. Ironically, this challenge was largely of their own making. The events that became known as the ‘Selarang barrack square incident’ would have a profound and long-term effect on the POWs at Changi. These few days at the beginning of September 1942 altered the way the POWs themselves saw captivity itself, as well as altering their perceptions about being prisoners. During Selarang the POW community drew together in a previously unimagined fashion and many of the petty divisions that had bedevilled the camp community evaporated. Although many of these divisions would reappear afterwards they did so in a manner that was less damaging. The benefits that accrued as a result of the Selarang incident would be felt right up until 1945. After six months of captivity, the POWs at Changi were not particularly robust. Upon taking command of Changi, Lt.-Col. Holmes assessed his new charge: The health of troops gave cause for anxiety. Deaths during this month (August) totalled 45, mostly dysentery. Diphtheria was increasing alarmingly and dysentery was still rampant and represented 35% of the cases in hospital. In addition, beriberi was increasing and accounted for 10% of the cases in hospital and skin diseases were very prevalent.1 The number of prisoners confined within the Changi area had been diminishing ever since the surrender in February. By the end of August the number of POWs left at Changi was approximately 18,790, with a further 25,100 on outside working parties in Singapore town and around Singapore island.2 As we have seen, the reduction in numbers had many positive dimensions, more food and more space being two of the most obvious. The gradual adjustment to life as captives was soon to be rudely shaken by the events of the Selarang ‘picnic’.3 On 30 August the senior Allied officers were presented with a Japanese demand that all POWs sign what the IJA termed a ‘non-escape declaration’ form.4 The wording on the Japanese form stated that ‘I, the undersigned, hereby solemnly swear on my honour that I will not, under any circumstances, attempt escape.’5 That same day, Lt. Baillies recorded in his diary that ‘the Japanese want us all to

66 The Selarang barrack square incident sign a parole form giving our word not to attempt to escape. Nobody has agreed to do this and we are to parade at 9am – tomorrow morning. I am afraid things will be a bit unpleasant.’6 At the same time Private Edmund Broad also wrote that ‘today we were handed a laugh, the IJA gave us forms to sign to the effect that we will swear on our collective honour not to escape. Of course we signed them (oh yeah) I suppose it will be a collective punishment of some sort. Well let them do their worse [sic].’7 Lt.-Col. Holmes distributed the forms but noted that ‘whilst every man must be given an opportunity to sign, the honour of the Army [rests] in our hands and we must prevent such signing if at all possible’.8 Holmes also took legal advice from Major Withers Payne (DJAG) Far East, who asserted that ‘For an Officer to enter into the engagement [of parole] is forbidden under Army Council Instruction No. 132 of 1940.’ In addition the parole of an enlisted man could not be given except through a commissioned officer and that such parole given without reference to an officer was void.9 Holmes was sure of his ground in terms of the legal obligation of the British soldier. However, as will be seen, his choice of the word ‘honour’, and indeed its implicit meaning in this instance, makes it obvious that Holmes saw the Japanese demands in far more emotive terms than simply legalistic requirements. The Japanese had also considered the legal basis to their request. Lt. Okasaki replied with: You [Holmes] have pointed that you are honour bound to not to sign a declaration which binds you not to escape but have you considered the exact circumstances under which you were made POWs? It was not during hostilities but by an act of unconditional surrender of the entire force under General Percival [sic].10 Okasaki’s attempt to present the Japanese case in a legalistic fashion is obvious by this statement, but his citing of the Singapore surrender unwittingly upped the stakes, for the POW community at least, and moved the whole affair more firmly into the realm of ‘honour’ rather than legalistic demands. This consideration meant that the response of the POWs would be far more significant and deeply felt than simply an accession to a regular Japanese demand. The next day, at a conference at which all the various area commanders were present, the POWs came to a decision over what their collective response to the Japanese demands would be: it was unanimously decided not to sign. At the insistence of the Japanese the whole matter was freely put to the camp and finally only four other ranks wished to, and were allowed to sign. Their parole forms were sent to the Imperial Japanese Army next day.11 Lt. Okasaki continued with his legalistic ploy and went on to cite the Hague Convention, Article 8, Chapter 2, that states ‘POWs shall be subject to the laws, regulations and orders in force in the Army of the State in the power of which they are.’ To this end any refusal to sign was ‘a direct refusal to obey a regulation which the I.J. Army [sic] now considers it necessary to enforce’.12

The Selarang barrack square incident 67 Lt.-Col. Holmes explained to the POW community that ‘they [the Japanese] considered the circumstances under which we had become POWs altered our rights to treatment according to the “laws and usage’s of war”.’ Accordingly those men not signing the parole form would be subject to unspecified ‘measures of severity’, with the unstated objective, presumably, being the securing of the requisite signatures.13 On 1 September, Holmes was instructed to attend a meeting at the Conference House, where the main Japanese administrative office for Changi POW camp was situated. Here, the Japanese instructed him that ‘all those not willing to sign would be prepared to move to Salarang [sic] Square, that part of the Camp occupied principally by men of the Australian Imperial Forces, by 1830 hours next day, 2 Sep. ’42’.14 Holmes also took the opportunity to submit an amendment to the wording of the Japanese form by adding the clause, ‘without incurring the death penalty’. The Japanese, however, rejected this revision.15 At 01.30 hrs on 2 September another conference was held at Malaya Command attended by Lt.-Col. Galleghan in which instructions to move were provisionally issued and accommodation allotted.16 At 04.00 hrs that same day, at an AIF Area Commanders’ conference, questions concerning the provision of latrines, water supply and tentage were all considered. Galleghan’s report also states that ‘all troops in Changi had been given the opportunity to sign and the refusal was 100%’.17 Whether Galleghan is actually referring only to his own AIF men is not clear; if this is not the case, then this statement is obviously at odds with what Holmes had previously asserted. While no move to Selarang barracks was to be made prior to the receipt of Japanese orders to that effect, the AIF commenced the necessary work of digging latrine pits on the square itself. At 11.45 the AIF received orders from Malaya Command confirming the allocation of accommodation.18 This initial instruction included two plans: one if the hospital was obliged to move as well (code word ‘push off’), and another if the hospital remained where it was (code word ‘right away’).19 At 13.30hrs the Japanese gave the order to move but, at this point, did not instruct the hospital to do so.20 That day Captain Wilkinson was ‘given orders to march out to a concentration camp’.21 Lt. J.A. Richardson said: ‘I have never seen quite so hectic a mass trek, 17,000 on foot with all manner of trucks (engine-less) and carts.’22 Lt.-Col. Ainger described the same scene as follows: I am told by ‘diggers’ that the move resembled a gold rush. Men tried to carry all their belongings including small aids to comfort they had collected or made during the previous six months. Anything on wheels was of tremendous value . . . old bicycle frames with wheels but no tyres, iron reels that originally had electrical cable wire wound on them were now fitted with rough axles and some form of body, even sledges were made and dragged along the roads.23 Captain Alan Rogers also watched the influx of men to Selarang: it was a sight never to be forgotten, to see the English come over, there seems a never ending stream of them, and they brought their possessions over by all

68 The Selarang barrack square incident manner of means – most of them were carried by hand, but there were all kinds of improvised vehicles. There were handcarts of the most varied description, the greatest part of them obviously very home made. They ran a gamut [sic] from one wheel to four and maybe even more, for all I know. There were all sorts of animals brought over – a herd of goats, about eight in all, several crates of chickens and ducklings, three monkeys, and half a dozen dogs, they poured over in what seemed to us a never ending stream and many of them were in the last stages of exhaustion, because the majority of them were undertaking a journey of three miles or so, in the blazing sun of the hottest part of the afternoon . . . 24 The conditions in the barrack square at Selarang were cramped in the extreme.25 The specific number of men confined there is open to debate, with several figures being apparent. Lt.-Col. Galleghan asserted that it was ‘15,204 Br. and Aust. tps.’, while Lt.-Col. Holmes estimated that the figure was ‘15,018, but excluding the hospital and the four who signed the parole’.26 In addition Major A.N. Thompson, AIF camp quartermaster, thought that the total was 14,609 and that the strength of the AIF alone was 1,897.27 Irrespective of the exact total, around 15,000 men were now quartered in a space that had, until then, catered only for the AIF contingent. These 1,892 Australians were now confined to a single building.28 This enlarged total occupied an area that had been originally designed to accommodate a single battalion in peacetime, around 600–700 men. Most recently this had been a battalion of the Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders. Now many of those garrison troops found themselves back at Selarang Barracks under somewhat different conditions from those prevailing pre-war. F.W.G. Power remembers that ‘room was at a premium and sleeping had to be done in shifts’.29 Lt. Baillies, one of the men fortunate enough to be accommodated inside, recorded in his diary that ‘we have the ground floor of one [barrack] block, there are 800 of us in it, and each man has exactly two feet by five and a half’.30 Captain Inglefield’s understated observation was that ‘those who had to sleep outside were not on a good wicket’.31 Lt. Lindsay Orr thought that ‘the spirits of the men are high’. He considered that the ‘Jap. thinks that he is punishing us . . . but he has uplifted our morale and brought us into a united whole’.32 Initially the Japanese allowed the use of field kitchens outside the square but then decided that these too must move inside.33 At this juncture only a single water point was available.34 On 2 September Holmes and Galleghan, together with their senior officers, were obliged to watch the execution of four men who had been caught trying to escape. Gilbert Inglefield commented on this event. He said that ‘to coincide with this operation [the confinement of all POWs at Selarang] the Japs had staged the shooting of four men who had been found outside the wire at Changi’.35 The execution of these men would have a bearing on the course of events over the ensuing days. On 31 August, Major Francis Magee, serving as Deputy Assistant Adjutant General (DAAG), was approached by an Indian driver who handed him a note with the names of four men on it. These men were Corporal Breavington and

The Selarang barrack square incident 69 Private Gale, AIF, Private Waters, The East Surrey Regiment, and Private Fletcher, Royal Army Ordinance Corps.36 Magee informed this driver that Waters was in Southern Area and that Fletcher was in the hospital, also that the two Australians were in all probability in the AIF area. This driver then left and Magee later learnt that the four men had been arrested, taken to Curran camp, the Japanese ‘punishment’ area, where Pte. Gale was in fact already being held, and were to be shot for having attempted to escape.37 On the night of 1–2 September, at the same time as Holmes was warned to be prepared to move his men to Selarang, the Japanese had informed him that ‘four men were to be shot for either escaping or attempting to escape’.38 Holmes ‘protested vehemently’ and ‘asked if I could be supplied with the names of the personnel concerned’.39 This request was refused. The next day Magee was instructed by Holmes to draw up a plea for clemency for the lives of the four men, which Holmes then signed. Magee produced the following: From: Commander British and Australian Troops, Changi To: Major-General Shimpei Fukuye, G.O.C. Prisoner of War Camps, Malaya, Supervising Office. Changi. Date: 2nd September 1942 NO.A/41/1955 I have the honour to submit this earnest appeal for your re-consideration of the infliction of the supreme penalty of four prisoners of war who have been apprehended attempting to escape from this camp. I am aware that it has been made perfectly clear by you that any such attempts will incur the penalty of death and furthermore there is no mis-apprehension on the part of the prisoners themselves that this is so. I will, however, take immediate steps again to impress on all ranks in this camp the inevitable outcome of any attempt to escape and would beg that in the present instance you will exercise your clemency by the infliction of a less severe punishment than that of execution. (Sgd) E.B. Holmes Col., Commanding British and Australian Troops, Changi.40 Magee then instructed Captain Basil Cadbury Jones, 122 Field Regiment RA, to proceed to the Japanese HQ at Changi gaol to deliver the plea direct to a senior Japanese officer: I arrived at the Gaol soon after 12 noon and the first person I saw was a Japanese interpreter. I explained my mission and stressed the fact that the plea for clemency was to be handed to the General. He wanted to take the papers – I refused to hand them over. Then he brought a Japanese officer whose rank I could NOT [Jones’s emphasis] make out as he had no insignia. I handed the paper to him. He appeared to know English. He read the plea for clemency,

70 The Selarang barrack square incident became very angry, tore it up in pieces, and threw them in my face. He then picked them up and stuffed them in my waistband. I then returned to H.Q. Malaya Command and reported in full to Major Magee.41 This attempt to prevent the executions was in vain. The four men were shot by Indian troops on the beach at Changi in front of witnesses, all of whom later signed sworn statements testifying both to what POWs saw as the brutal nature of the executions and to the identity of those Indian and Japanese soldiers involved. This exercise was rendered all the more distasteful by the fact that the four men had made their escape attempts several months earlier. Magee wrote in his statement: I knew that these four men had made previous individual attempts to escape, the Japanese punishment for which was death, and that the Imperial Japanese Army had returned them after capture to our camp to be held by us for punishment. They were NOT in close custody. I knew that Pte WATERS . . . had attempted to escape from a camp in Singapore as far back as May and been apprehended by the Japanese almost immediately. Since then he had been taken on our strength and, to all intents and purposes, was an ordinary prisoner of war, subject to NO special restrictions. [Magee’s emphasis]42 Similarly the two AIF men, Corporal Breavington (an Englishman born in Southend in Essex) and Pte. Gale, had also escaped in May. They had rowed a small boat for 200 miles to the island of Colomba where they were arrested and taken to the military hospital on the island of Davao. They were returned to Singapore on 1 July 1942, with Breavington going to hospital and Gale to Curran camp.43 At the execution site Breavington pleaded for the life of his friend, Private Gale, claiming that he had ordered the younger man to accompany him. This action, together with his general demeanour throughout the ordeal, prompted Galleghan to write that Breavington ‘was the bravest man I have ever seen’ in a subsequent letter to Breavington’s wife.44 The execution of these men had several effects. The shootings firstly demonstrated that the Japanese were serious about their threats, but they also showed that it was difficult to predict accurately the course of action that the Japanese might follow. The crimes for which the four men were shot appeared to have been either forgotten or forgiven. While the Japanese decision to impose the death penalty appeared both illogical and barbaric, to the Japanese themselves it may have been entirely rational. This incident illustrates the problems that the POW administration had in dealing with their Japanese captors as nothing that the Japanese did could be taken for granted or be used as a guide to future behaviour. Secondly, the manner of the execution, which the POWs perceived as being particularly brutal, had the opposite effect from that which was intended. Instead of undermining the resolve it had the effect of hardening the British and Australian determination to resist, in so far as that were possible. Lt.-Col. Stanley Wakefield Harris was a witness to the shootings and remembered them as follows:

The Selarang barrack square incident 71 An offer was made to blindfold them which was refused. We then saluted the four men who returned our salute. The order to fire was given . . . at the discharge all four fell backwards. After about 20 seconds Breavington raised himself up on one elbow and said ‘for God’s sake shoot me through the heart. You’ve shot me through the arm.’ Whereupon the Indians lost their heads and started firing indiscriminately . . . after repeated shots they all lay still. The Indians then advanced to within a yard of each body and put several shots into each.45 News of the shooting was widespread amongst the men in Changi within hours of the event. Lt. Baillies mentions the executions in his diary, recording that ‘they were shot by the Sikhs and I’m told it was clumsily done’.46 Predictably, this event removed any modicum of sympathy that some POWs may have felt for the Indian ‘renegades’ of the INA. By employing the INA men to carry out the executions the Japanese, in some small way, also diverted the blame from the IJA. Later that day Galleghan recorded that Holmes had received an amended parole form from the Japanese. It now read: I, the undersigned, hereby solemnly swear on my honour that I will not under any circumstances attempt escape without incurring the penalty under IJA Order No. 63 dated 25/3/42.47 Galleghan stated that ‘no decision on this [the amended form] had been reached’.48 At 20.30 hrs all senior officers were summoned by the Japanese to ‘the pathway in front of the clock-tower’ and addressed by a Japanese officer named Lt.-Col. Okayame.49 Okayame’s talk was ‘semi-official’ and in it he advised the Allied officers present that they should persuade their ‘innocent men’ to sign the parole document. Lt.-Col. Holmes ‘thanked him for the advice and stated that it was a matter of our honour’.50 Armed guards, many of them being INA soldiers, surrounded the perimeter of the barrack square. This inevitably heightened the tension between the POWs and their captors. E. Holden remembered that, ‘if anyone overstepped the boundary line, he was stabbed at with bayonets by the guard of Sikhs who constantly patrolled the roadway’.51 Lt. Baillies wrote that ‘there have been several small incidents, prisoners being beaten up by Sikh guards for putting a foot inadvertently over the boundary line’.52 The Japanese also mounted machine guns around the square and increased the number of Sikh and Japanese guards patrolling the square perimeter.53 To make conditions as unbearable as possible, the Japanese cut off the mains water supply to the barrack buildings. An additional two water points were established in the square although they made little impact upon the shortages.54 Consequently, the water ration was reduced to only one gallon, per man, per day. This meagre quantity had to suffice for cooking, washing and for drinking, and a roster was published detailing when exactly individual units could draw water.55 To compound matters the barrack square afforded no shelter for the majority of

72 The Selarang barrack square incident men exposed to the harsh tropical sun. J.W. Franks remembered that ‘the heat was unbearable. We had no cover and were exposed to the sun all day. We were crammed in like sardines surrounded by barbed wire. It was impossible to lie down, we squatted in the sun with our sweating comrades.’56 In addition, the severing of the main water supply obviously rendered all the lavatories in the barracks unusable. Sanitation was thus an immediate and pressing concern and orders were issued that sanitation work was to have priority over all other activities.57 To try and overcome this problem, boreholes, up to 40 feet deep, were sunk into the parade ground. This necessitated large gangs of POWs cutting through the thick bitumen of the parade ground surface. The digging of these improvised toilet facilities went on around the clock. Cyril Coombs wrote on 2 September that he had laboured for two hours on ‘bore-hole’ detail that day: from 8.30 p.m. to 9.30 p.m. in the evening and also from 3.30 a.m. until 4.30 a.m. The early morning detail at least had the advantage of avoiding the intense heat.58 Despite the immense effort devoted to latrine digging, Captain Wilkinson remarked two days later that ‘the queue for the urinals is 200 yards long almost every day’.59 The Japanese had reluctantly provided a supply of wood from which carpenters manufactured covers for the toilets dug into the square. This helped to stem the danger of disease spread by flies. On 3 September Captain Wilkinson wrote in his diary: ‘we obviously can’t last long under these conditions’.60 At 15.00 hrs on the same day Lt.-Col. Galleghan attended a conference at Malaya Command HQ. One hour later he held his own conference and reported: The IJA had today sent for all Formation Commanders and had been informed by the IJA that they were sacrificing the health and lives of their troops in refusing to sign the declaration. No compromise or amended form was acceptable to the IJA, who said that the form had come as an order from Tokyo and that no officer outside Japan had power to amend it or recommend its amendment. The IJA had then ordered the form to be signed.61 Signaller Coombs commented on the significance of the impact of the ‘Tokyo’ aspect of the order on the prisoners, many of whom noted this in their diaries. Coombs wrote on 3 September that ‘The Japs stated that the forms had been issued from Tokyo and that they would go to any “measures of severity” to get them signed.’62 Lt. Baillies confirmed this position, commenting that ‘the Japs say the order to sign the forms has come from Tokyo, and there can be no compromise’.63 Galleghan also reported that the IJA had stated that ‘in the event of continued refusal, conditions would become more and more miserable and that rations would be halved’.64 At the AIF meeting, Galleghan said that ‘he had reached a decision . . . for which he assumed full responsibility’.65 He said that acting under orders of the Japanese government, he ‘would sign the declaration and would advise troops to do likewise.’66 The next day Malaya Command was obliged to issue orders forbidding the washing of clothes in order to conserve as much water as possible. This act in itself

The Selarang barrack square incident 73 would likely have repercussions on the health of the men if the situation was not resolved in the near future. The AIF record shows that during the previous night’s Formation Commanders’ Conference, Holmes had informed General Heath that the responsibility for a decision was his [Holmes’s] alone, even though Heath had made the curious assertion that ‘there should be no thought of capitulation until the same number of casualties had been sustained as were sustained during the fighting on the island’.67 This comment is probably indicative of the depth of feeling over the whole incident. It is also probably indicative of why many men felt the need to stand up to the Japanese. At the same time another compromise form was submitted to the IJA. The text on this ran, ‘As ordered by the IJA I promise in no circumstances to attempt escape and I acknowledge that if I do so I shall be liable to the extreme penalty.’68 Also at this conference the Deputy Director of Medical Services stated that ‘today [4 September 1942] was the latest day on which the POWs could act without casualties’.69 That same day Lt. Baillies recorded: ‘Our medical authorities estimate that diseases will be a serious consideration in three or four days, already the dysentery and diphtheria is spreading fast.’70 The Japanese sought to capitalise on the worsening conditions. An area of the barrack square had been set aside to serve as a makeshift hospital. When the main POW body had been obliged to move to Selarang, the hospital had remained at Roberts barracks. On 4 September General Fukuye threatened to move the hospital, together with all the patients, into the confines of the Selarang barrack square. This threat was serious and potentially deadly. S. Warren, a bombardier with the 135th Field Artillery, wrote ‘the Japs [have] decided to move the hospital to Selarang. Problems. Any movement would kill all the seriously ill patients and battle casualties instantly. The highly infectious diseases would spread unchecked through the packed square.’71 The cramped conditions and the inefficient sanitary provisions meant that any new infusion of contagious diseases from the hospitalised men would prove highly dangerous, to say nothing of the potentially disastrous effect of movement upon the battle casualties. Lt. Baillies wrote: ‘unless we sign, the hospital will also be moved into the area besides us. This involves another 7,000 men in all conditions of sickness, many of whom the move would kill.’72 The threat to move Roberts Hospital was a significant one, although it is not mentioned specifically in Galleghan’s generally detailed ‘Sequence of Events’ report. Instead Galleghan’s report for 4 September mentions the previous night’s conference of Formation Commanders where ‘Commander 11 Div. had asked for a written order directing the signing of the declaration for health reasons. Commander Southern Area had asked for similar direction.’73 At 14.00 hrs on 4 September Lt.-Col. Glyn White, ADMS AIF, produced a ‘Medical Appreciation’ of the situation and concluded that ‘I recommend that efforts be made to alleviate the existing conditions as soon as possible.’74 These comments support the concern over the health situation. Holmes, however, does mention the threat, noting that ‘it was also feared that they would, as threatened, move the hospital’.75 Holmes went on to comment that ‘this largely influenced the final decision to sign the parole form in order to save life’.76

74 The Selarang barrack square incident However, at the Area Commander’s conference on 2 September provisional plans for the hospital to be accommodated at Selarang had been drawn up.77 The reality of the situation now appeared to preclude such a move. At the Area Commanders’ Conference at 12.45 hrs on 4 September the IJA replied with another parole form draft of their own. This read, ‘Furthermore I fully understand that failure to keep this oath will render me liable to the extreme penalty.’78 This compromise was also rejected. Galleghan’s papers narrate the following negotiations. That ‘it had been further submitted that Formation Commanders were prepared to sign if a direct order was given by the IJA to the Commander Brit. and Aust. Troops’ [Lt.-Col. Holmes] and that the following draft order had been submitted, ‘It is the order of the IJA that all officers, N.C.O.s and men will sign the following: (then declaration as at present).’79 The Japanese had then refused to incorporate in the form the order to sign. However, ‘it was then represented that we would sign if we received a written order in the form of a separate letter’.80 This was an important distinction and Galleghan felt that ‘if we could get a direct order from the IJA we have gained something from the barrack square’.81 The difference being that ‘originally there had been nothing but a blunt verbal order; now the IJA had agreed to negotiate. This in itself was a gain to us.’82 At 16.00 hrs Galleghan attended a conference at Malaya Command and at 17.00 hrs he reported the events there to AIF area commanders. Galleghan told his men that Holmes had been ordered to the Conference House and to take with him Japanese Order No. 17, dated 2 September, which instructed the concentration of all POWs in Selarang barrack square. In its place Holmes was handed a new order, although similarly dated and numbered, which ordered all personnel to sign the declaration.83 The process of signing the forms began immediately. On 5 September, Lt. Baillies wrote that ‘Col. Holmes has asked us to sign on his responsibility, apparently the Japs compromised to the extent of admitting that this was under their orders, under stress, and not voluntary.’84 Holmes had succeeded in persuading the Japanese to change their demand for signatures to a ‘military order’ to do so. This action fundamentally altered the perception of the stand-off for the POWs. In retrospect, the Japanese decision seems strange as the POWs appeared on the verge of a capitulation without any Japanese compromise being apparent. In fact Holmes wrote ‘our current existence will result, in a very few days, in the outbreak of epidemic and . . . the inevitable death of many’.85 For the Japanese, however, the distinction between ordering and coercing the signatures may well have been a negligible one. Although the ‘Selarang barrack square incident’ was over, the ramifications of the events that took place there would last far longer. Lt. W.H. Baillies made this entry in his diary on 30 August 1942, the day the Japanese made their demands known: The Japanese want us to sign a parole form giving our word not to attempt to escape. Nobody has agreed to do this and we are to parade at 9am – tomorrow morning. I am afraid this will be a bit unpleasant, the Japs don’t seem to realise the unreasonableness of their request.86

The Selarang barrack square incident 75 Gilbert Inglefield considered at the time that the declaration was ‘ridiculous and the crowning insult’.87 The actual degree to which the Japanese believed these parole forms would prevent escape attempts must surely have been minimal. The POWs themselves believed that signatures obtained following a direct Japanese order absolved the individual from any moral responsibility of fulfilling the conditions. Equally, it is difficult to believe that, had any forms been signed as a direct result of the pressure applied in the barrack square, that these would have had any greater moral hold over the actions of the individual who had been obliged to sign after having experienced such conditions. If this is so, then the POWs themselves, apparently keenly aware of such academic dilemmas, would have been equally absolved of any responsibility had they signed before the military order was issued but after being subjected to the privations in the square. Indeed, Gilbert Inglefield asserted that ‘ideologists maintained that a promise exacted by threats of violence was not morally binding’.88 Thus, being confined and bullied alone would seem to have satisfied these conditions. The POWs at Selarang endured these privations and held out until a Military order was issued. General Percival, although by now languishing in captivity on Formosa, was himself asked, in due course, to sign a similar declaration. His response, recorded in his memoirs of the Malayan campaign written in 1947, was one of consternation. He wrote, ‘of course such a declaration was quite irregular’ and that ‘I have always thought that the Japanese only wanted it so that they could justify themselves in executing men who were caught trying to escape.’89 As Percival suggests, the forms were probably conceived as a way to justify severe punishment and to reap the benefits that the threat of such action would provide in terms of the maintenance of Camp discipline. However, it would seem that for the POWs themselves the issue had less to do with how ‘binding’ such a declaration was, or under what conditions it would be so, and infinitely more to do with being seen to make a defiant stand of some kind. This would certainly explain why they resisted beyond the stage of being badly treated, even though the POWs themselves had admitted that such treatment effectively invalidated any declarations obtained as a result. Instead, the POWs held on until the Japanese made a concession and were perceived as doing so. The response of the men to the refusal to sign was boisterous. Lt. C. Thornton recorded the mood amongst the prisoners. He said ‘the men were determined to show these . . . Nips that they couldn’t play about with a British soldier’s Honour, no matter how poor they were thought to be as fighting men’.90 Lt. Lindsay Orr also thought that ‘for the first time we have seen the spirit of the old AIF there is a solidarity and fighting spirit that was perhaps lacking’.91 After the hectic march to the barrack square Captain Malet wrote: ‘This is the first time that we have felt really proud of the Army – not a grouse and everyone humping their kit and pushing Changi chariots in the heat of the day – cheery smiling faces as if they were celebrating August bank holiday.’92 Gilbert Inglefield commented that ‘morale at no time in my POW experience was higher. A feeling of “now we’ll show ’em” came to each man after months of comparative ease.’93 And that ‘It must be said that morale in general has been

76 The Selarang barrack square incident higher since this business started than for many a long day. There is no doubt that however it turns out, we have certainly secured a moral victory over the Nip in this matter.’94 Lt.-Col. Galleghan also considered that ‘if one word of the form were altered we had a moral victory’.95 For the vanquished defenders of Singapore, in their own minds at least, their contribution to the war was far from over. Gilbert Inglefield wrote: ‘it [was a] glorious opportunity, and one that never occurred again. From now on we never really stood up to the Japs.’96 Lt. Thornton made reference to the nature of Anglo-Australian relations before Selarang. He says that ‘the Japanese had been trying hard to ferment [sic] trouble between us and the Australians. If they had had any success it was lost entirely at Selarang. The Aussies “mucked” in with us and we with them.’97 He thought that ‘the whole episode did more to cement the feeling of comradeship between officers and men than anything we ourselves could have devised’.98 On 5 September Col. J.W. Craven, Commanding Officer of Roberts Hospital, wrote to Galleghan to express ‘how very much I appreciate the willing help and co-operation I have had from Summons [the Senior Australian medical officer] and the whole of the AGH [Australian General Hospital] staff through these very trying days’.99 And that: I have had nothing but the best from all of them since the day I arrived here, but lately they have all been at even greater pains than ever to demonstrate to me their loyalty and co-operation . . . will you please include yourself in my thanks, for I know that your co-operation is the basis of our success here.100 Galleghan duly replied, commenting that ‘it was nice of you to write and I feel that the past week has been successful in welding us all, both British and Australians, into what the Empire expects, that is, all comrades and pals’.101 Galleghan’s own report concluded that ‘the whole force is more vigorous than ever before and that there is now greater co-operation between British and Australian troops’.102 On 2 September the Japanese had tried to persuade Holmes and Galleghan to order their men to sign by obliging them to attend the execution of four men, two Australians and two Britons, who had been found outside the Changi wire in May. Given the length of time between capture and punishment, there had been a hope that the Japanese would be lenient. Instead, they took the opportunity to demonstrate their inflexibility over escape and to press home their determination to see the parole forms signed.103 The unspoken assumption of many Selarang diarists is that had Holmes and Galleghan been prepared to back down, then the lives of these four men may have been spared. As it was, the event seems to have only strengthened the will to resist amongst the vast majority of POWs. This was due not only to reasons of anger at the deaths of four comrades. In the wake of the executions the cordon sanitaire around the square was reinforced with additional, Japanese manned machine-guns. The increase in security around the square on the part of the Japanese was born out of a concern that the executions might elicit a violent response. Major Gillies wrote: ‘it is said that the Japs were firmly convinced that we were on the point of attempting a mass attack on them’.104

The Selarang barrack square incident 77 The Japanese precautions had quite the opposite effect to that which was intended. To many men in the square, the effect of being regarded as a potential threat by the Japanese was a novel one. As a result it conferred a new sense of selfrespect upon men long denied the acknowledgement that, although defeated, they were still in fact soldiers. In a less obvious way, the simple act of ‘concentration’ in the square was important. As James Scott suggests, ‘there is the visual impact of collective power that a vast assembly of subordinates conveys both to its own number and to its adversaries’.105 These feelings found similar expression elsewhere. On 4 September, the day the decision to sign the forms was made, Captain Wilkinson wrote in his diary that ‘the N.F.s [Royal Northumberland Fusiliers] got a good chit for kit lay out and cleanliness of rooms – decision made to sign forms’.106 Although the POWs were on the verge of giving in to their captors’ demands, the parallel demands of military discipline were making themselves felt as well. Wilkinson recorded the decision to sign almost as an aside, the decision apparently secondary to his obvious regimental pride at the ‘chit’ his unit had received. Thus, at the peak of the Japanese sanctions to enforce a surrender, military discipline was firm and pride in one’s unit still sufficiently strong and relevant to override other, more immediate considerations. Major Rogers’s final comments on the incident were also wholly positive: The whole remarkable feature of this show was the wonderful morale shown by everybody. Not a grumble was heard anywhere, and the order of the day was laughing and joking and making light of the whole affair. Even the sick, and the customers of the Con.[valescence] Depot those without arms and legs and recovering from other bad wounds took it in the same wonderful spirit, the spirit of the AIF which we all imagined the 8th Divvy had lost . . . one of the Dutch officers . . . said that he and other Dutchmen were proud to be our allies, and this was the opinion of everyone to whom I spoke.107 For the thousands confined in the square at Selarang the act of resistance itself had, almost imperceptibly, become less a means to an end than an end in itself. Following the Japanese decision on 4 September to issue a military order instructing the prisoners to sign, Col. Holmes ordered the men at Changi to sign the Japanese forms.108 The decision to sign the declaration, even with the ‘Japanese military order’ caveat attached, was still a difficult one for many men at Selarang. Lt. Baillies remembered that ‘Col. Holmes ordered all of us to sign on his responsibility.’109 While Sapper E.W. Whincup, obviously concerned about the ramifications of affixing his name to such a document, wrote that ‘fortunately, our C.O. provided each POW with a copy of the order, signed by him, to cover us should we eventually return to the United Kingdom’.110 Major Gillies commented: ‘He [Col. Holmes] insisted on getting a written order from the Japs to do so and also, I believe, got it in writing from them that they would in fact begin to shoot if he didn’t give the order.’111 This last sentence,

78 The Selarang barrack square incident concerning the alleged shooting threat, is not mentioned by any other diarist nor in any memoirs of Changi. However, Galleghan mentions that the Japanese said ‘in the event of continued refusal [to sign] conditions would become more and more miserable . . . when asked if this involved executions the Japanese spokesman said “yes”’.112 Signaller Coombs wrote that he believed ‘the Japs intended to cut off our water supply altogether (had we not signed within the next twenty-four hours)’.113 There was a genuine concern felt by the POWs about exactly how the signing of such a declaration, even under the direct orders of the Japanese and their own officers, would be viewed by the post-war British authorities. This is apparent by the fact that Holmes himself felt obliged to issue a supplementary letter addressing this fact.114 Holmes assured his men that ‘It will naturally be my first endeavour to ensure on release that the position [regarding the signing of the ‘noescape’ forms] is made clear to His Majesty’s Government.’115 Lt.-Col. Holmes’s ‘Special Order’ to the men in the barrack square detailed the events leading up to the enforced move to Selarang, the negotiations that he and Galleghan had entered into on their behalf, as well as why they ultimately believed that signing the document under duress was acceptable.116 This ‘Order’ is enlightening as it chronicles the events at Selarang from Holmes’s own perspective; more importantly it seeks to address the contemporary concerns of the men at Changi. Paragraph 9 reads as follows: I am fully convinced that His Majesty’s Government only expects Prisoners of War not to give their parole when such parole is to be given voluntarily. This factor can in no circumstances be applicable to our present conditions. The responsibility for this decision rests with me, and with me alone and I fully accept it in ordering you to sign.117 The tone of Holmes’s last line, concerning responsibility, perhaps indicates that he himself was not completely sure of his legal ground but was determined, at least, that his men neither would nor should share any blame for their actions, undertaken as they were on his direct orders. Interestingly, Lt. R. Garden, in his memoirs of being a Prisoner of War at Pudu Gaol in Thailand, wrote about his concerns and feelings when asked to sign a similar ‘no-escape’ declaration: they [here Garden is presumably referring to the senior Allied officers at Pudu] assured us that if we broke this parole agreement with the Japanese a plea that we signed under duress would exonerate us from fault in the eyes of British courts, ’though it would not of course prevent the Japanese from executing any of us caught after escaping.118 The decision to sign the Japanese forms ended the ‘Barrack square incident’ and evoked some interesting, and contradictory, responses from the POWs themselves. Lt. Richardson wrote simply that the incident was ‘an interesting experiment which shows what the Japs will do’.119 Captain Wilkinson wrote that ‘the spirit of the men is wonderful’.120 Lt. Baillies mentions only that ‘apparently the Japs

The Selarang barrack square incident 79 compromised’.121 In contrast to the general, almost congratulatory, tone of many diarists, however, is Captain J. Ledingham, a surgeon with the 20th Combined General Hospital. Ledingham wrote bitterly of the whole Selarang experience in his diary. He was angry at the way in which he believed the senior officers had stage-managed the event to engineer what he saw as a morale-boosting activity. He wrote: ‘we were informed that it [the no-escape declaration form] was a direct order [this] satisfied our pseudo leaders and their pseudo honour’.122 Ledingham’s resentment at the recent activities is obvious. He continued ‘I am of the opinion that it was the wrong time for a defeated army to talk about honour. If more had been shown while defending Singapore I doubt I’d be a bloody prisoner of war now.’123 Ledingham here cites the fall of Singapore, and the disappointing performances of the Allied troops defending it, as a specific reason for not entering into any game of brinkmanship with the Japanese, ironically for broadly similar reasons as other diarists sought to justify that same resistance. Ledingham makes no mention of any positive psychological benefit having been derived from the time at Selarang. It is conceivable that Ledingham’s role as a surgeon gave him a greater insight into the negative impact of such a demonstration upon the health of POWs already suffering from eight months of incarceration. Despite this, after the events of September 1942, the Fall of Singapore is rarely mentioned in diary accounts of life at Changi. However, Galleghan considered the implications of the act of signing and concluded that ‘with regard to the attitude of the British and Australian Governments . . . if the capitulation of Singapore was to be accepted then there could be no quibble about capitulating under the present conditions’.124 The memoirs of E. Holden, although not as uncompromisingly negative as Ledingham, raise similar doubts about the practical wisdom of resisting the Japanese demands. Holden declared that ‘any thought of escape was out of the question. A glance at the map will show you that Singapore is in the middle of quite an expanse of water, and with the enemy occupying all the surrounding islands, escape was impossible.’125 Major Gillies went so far as to declare that ‘I have not the slightest thought of attempting to escape . . . it is pure folly to even think of it as things are . . .’126 The testimony of these men would seem to confirm the idea that, whatever the real reason for resisting the Japanese demands, a belief in the practical chances of a successful escape itself was not what motivated them to endure three days at Selarang. The signed declaration forms bore every conceivable allegiance and nom de plume, with innumerable ‘Ned Kellys’ being the principal contribution from the AIF. The fact that the Japanese abstained from maintaining accurate lists of prisoners’ names and ranks contributed to the futility of the exercise. There was no way to check accurately who had, or had not, signed, nor even whether soldiers signed their correct names. The move back into the familiar surroundings outside of the Selarang area prompted many diarists to comment favourably on their return to conditions that now seemed positively comfortable. Signaller Coombs wrote: ‘returned to 3 block in Changi, it was just like home again after those three horrible days’.127 Flying

80 The Selarang barrack square incident Officer Dodds wrote ‘Home sweet home! back in our old quarters at no. 47, what a relief!’128 For these men the mere contrast of experiences was sufficient to cheer their spirits, if only temporarily. For J.W. Franks the return to normal prisoner accommodation was somewhat less happy. Upon return, Franks and his comrades found their quarters had been thoroughly looted in their absence.129 What did Galleghan and Holmes hope to gain from the events in the square? Escape itself was virtually impossible and, more significantly, considered to be so by all concerned. Although the forms were eventually signed the inadequate records maintained by the Japanese, in tandem with the preponderance of false names used by the POWs, combined to render the whole exercise futile. The key to identifying the significance of the ‘Selarang barrack square incident’ lies not in the resistance itself, although this had a profound effect on morale, but rather when exactly the POWs deigned to sign. Much was made of the change in circumstance that the ‘Military Order’ conferred on the situation: ‘we can sign with honour’ ‘Black Jack’ Galleghan told his men. However, as has been seen, the POWs themselves believed that any promise exacted under duress was worthless. Major Gillies asserted that ‘as it is most probably a matter of threat and force . . . it does not, in my opinion mean a thing’.130 Being confined within the barrack square in appalling conditions satisfied this important ‘force’ criterion. What is equally clear is that the Japanese determination to see the forms signed had nothing to do with wanting a genuine pledge, what they sought was a pretence to deal with prisoners in a summary fashion. Whether the POWs were coerced, or signed freely, was immaterial to the Japanese as the forms themselves were worthless. Galleghan and Holmes faced a catch-22 situation, with the Japanese prepared to go to any lengths to see the forms signed and the POWs obliged either to give in weakly or adopt the moral high ground, asserting that the parole was invalid because of the methods adopted to obtain a signature. Either option would have had a disagreeable, negative impact on moral. Thus for Galleghan and Holmes the only way to secure something positive from such a situation was to extract some kind of concession from the Japanese. What Galleghan referred to as ‘honour’ was not honour per se but rather an acknowledgement that the POWs had succeeded in forcing a compromise – even though the ramifications would have been identical had they signed earlier. Although the significance of such a ‘victory’ would appear to be essentially trivial, the practical effect upon POW moral was palpable and undeniable.

5

Changi: September 1942–September 1943, part I

The 12 months between September 1942 and September 1943 proved to be a period of tremendous upheaval that threatened to undermine many of the assumptions and adjustments to life in captivity that had grown since the surrender. As a result of these events the POW community underwent a subtle but significant change. In many respects the whole character of Changi camp was forged during this time, far more than in the preceding eight months and far more even than the few days at Selarang square. While the events of Selarang did not directly provide the abilities to meet these new difficulties, Selarang is significant because of the way that the victory there emboldened the POW population to attempt to do so. In such a situation as the men found themselves in at Changi the impact of how things were achieved was often as important as the end result. The collective POW response to this period was manifested in a perceptible hardening of attitude towards the myriad difficulties that they now faced. Most significantly during this time the POW community proved sufficiently flexible to redefine the nature of its existence and, where necessary, did so at the expense of traditional military discipline. The extent to which they were successful in overcoming the many problems at Changi is only partially important, although the practical benefits that accrued were not inconsiderable. More significant are the other, less tangible, benefits that were reaped from being obliged to struggle and the conclusive rejection of the role of passive captive that this implied. Changi underwent a substantial readjustment during these 12 months. Japanese demands on manpower reached a peak and the camp was denuded of virtually all fit men. The Changi population dropped from 21,154 in September 1942 to just 5,307 in August 1943. In the interim, the population climbed to 28,207 as additional troops arrived, albeit only briefly at Changi.1 The fluctuations in manpower, as well as the overall trend of decline, proved difficult to manage in logistical terms. They also had other effects on the stability of the camp. While the camp experienced positive developments, for example the long overdue receipt of mail from home, which satisfied a pronounced need among the POWs, overall, this period was one of struggle. A struggle against the practical effects of Japanese indifference, as apparent in the ongoing implications of a lack of food and drugs, against the implications of losing so many fit men and against the ramifications of these dual demands on the social cohesion of the POW community itself.

82 September 1942–September 1943, part I

The departure of POW working parties Perhaps the most significant, ongoing, event at Changi was the departure of large numbers of POWs for what the Japanese euphemistically termed ‘working parties’. Changi had experience of this already, with many men working in Singapore town and elsewhere. During this time these demands on POW manpower accelerated tremendously. The result for Changi was enormous: the loss of manpower drastically reduced the scale of the camp and stripped it of the fittest and many of the most capable men. This changed the nature of the camp irrevocably and affected life for those who remained in a variety of ways. Many men lost long-term friends, along with the security and reassurance that they provided, while the camp itself lost a whole host of individual skills and the opportunity of utilising such a considerable pool of labour in its own interests. The departure of men from Changi brought forth a variety of reactions from the POWs themselves. Signaller Coombs heard that he would be one of the men to head ‘up-country’ on F Force and noted that he was actually ‘very relieved to be leaving Singapore island’, although he gave no reason for his enthusiasm.2 Private Houghton, by contrast, was similarly relieved to hear that he was not one of the men detailed to leave on a working party, believed to be going to Japan.3 Houghton, like many, was unconvinced that life outside Changi would prove any better than remaining in Singapore, although he did eventually leave for the railway and move onto Japan. Major Braganza did not wish to leave Changi either, thinking ‘I could not be more comfortable and would like to have spent my POW days there.’4 Rumours as to the destination of these parties were rife. Major Gillies noted that the ‘most popular [rumoured destination was] the Cameron highlands which is [a] health resort and hill station in Malaya and [another rumoured destination] a place 40 or 50 miles N.W. of Bangkok’.5 In early September, Captain Harry Malet heard an intriguing ‘borehole’: we are all going to Loureco Marques [sic] not only the civilians! Reason given is that our presence is extremely embarrassing to the Nips and food is running short in S’pore. Also having given our parole we are presumed to be safe and ineligible for further active service against the IJA.6 Lt. Baillies had a better idea as to their destination: We had word last night to be prepared to move up country on Wednesday 4 November, so presumably we are going to Siam. They say that travel broadens the mind. Conditions will probably be worse, but I am rather glad of the change.7 CSM Romney was also one of the men detailed to leave and he was concerned over what to do with his diary. He considered that ‘I would try and bury it somewhere nearby if I thought we were moving overseas but if we are only going upcountry I will risk taking it with me.’8 Captain Wilkinson was also unhappy about the prospect of going, believing ‘it is a great pity we are leaving Changi as

September 1942–September 1943, part I 83 we have so much to be thankful for here and God alone knows what the conditions will be like where we are going’.9 Col. Shorland was similarly concerned, but considered it only ‘a pity as life here had settled down to be quite bearable and all this change is disquieting’.10 Less than a week later, Shorland lost his best friend to a working party, an event that put his current, comparatively comfortable, life into context: ‘This is a very sad day . . . I am left alone in the room with all the accumulated furniture and comforts of nine months hard scrounging.’ He thought it ‘wonderfully comfortable and roomy but very depressing. After living so long all cramped up one feels quite lonely to be back in an ordinary room.’11 At this stage the dreadful fate of parties going to the railway was unknown, but conditions at Changi were still sufficiently pleasant to cause men concern at being obliged to leave. Captain Horner had his own views on the continuing exodus of POWs up-country, especially when his friend was included on a detail to go north: Bill Cowell is going up-country – he hasn’t been ‘yessing’ well enough – Hells Bells these senior officers are bum, the whole bloody lot of them, the more I see of them the less respect I have.12 Horner at least had more of an idea of what was to come. When his turn came to be included in an ‘up-country’ party he was sufficiently well informed to speculate that he was to help ‘superintend the making of a road or a railway’, although the conditions under which he and his fellow officer POWs were to conduct this relatively innocuous sounding task were as yet still unimagined.13 The principal method of determining how men were selected for working parties was based on medical classifications. The Australians issued the following detailed instructions: Changi.

15 Oct. 42

No 12. – Medical Classification of Personnel in AIF Camp Area. (1) A regular xxxxxxxxxxxx [word crossed out] medical examination of all personnel in the AIF Camp Area will be carried out at least once per week. (Mondays) (2) Personnel will be classified as follows: Group I. – Those fit to be included in I.J.A. Working Parties. Group II. – The remainder – further subdivided into – (A) Those fit for all duties in the Changi Area. (B) Those fit to perform light duties as sp [sic] specified or limited by M.O. (C) Those unfit for all duties. (3) In advising Commanders whether a man is fit to be included in Group I, Medical Offrs. will have regard to the following points. (a) No man will be included in Group I, if in the opinion of the M.O. he is liable thereby to suffer any permanent ill effects.

84 September 1942–September 1943, part I (b) The present ration standard of most working parties is better than in Changi. (c) Adequate medical services are available to all working parties. (d) Sick wastage amongst troops in Singapore has been much less than in Changi over the past six months. (4) Returns. – Gps. will show the medical classification of all Officers and ORs on daily strength returns in accordance with the above groupings thus. – Group I. Offrs ORs.

A. Offrs ORs

Group II. B. Offrs ORs

C. Offrs ORs

(P.L. HEAD) Major DAAG AIF MALAYA14 Captain Malet was perturbed to discover that he had been classified as being in condition ‘A’ and realised that he would, in all probability, be sent ‘up to railway construction jobs in Siam’. Malet was concerned about this, considering ‘god forbid I should qualify for that outfit [the railway]’. Malet, a locally recruited soldier with the Federated Malay States Volunteer Force, noted that many of his fellow officers had classified themselves as ‘B’, ‘simply because they were over 40’, something that Malet appeared to disagree with. He was sufficiently worried, however, to set aside his initial objections and note: ‘if this is legal I’m going to try it – not to get out of fatigues which I enjoy – but to miss a possible up-country party’.15 While some expressed excitement at what these moves might bring, no diarist indicated that it was because of unfavourable conditions pertaining at Changi. When Captain Malet was, as he had feared, detailed for an up-country party, his concerns, and those of the men set to accompany him, focused as much on what they were obliged to leave behind as on what the future might hold. News of his departure prompted him to write: ‘this is rather alarming as we feel we’ll never have another climate as healthy as this and certainly never the convenience of a settlement such as this with barracks and married quarters’.16 Captain Malet’s concerns proved to be well founded. He never returned to Changi and died on the railway in June 1943.17 The departure of the up-country parties had a significant impact on those left behind. Col. Shorland remarked on one of the practical results when he noted that ‘we have lost practically every fit man in the camp’, and this consideration alone would prove to have serious repercussions.18 Some months later in April 1943, after the bulk of the departures had occurred, the IJA granted permission for extra trailers to be used in hauling wood for fuel, vital in ensuring that cooking instruments were boiled to ward off dysentery. This important task could not be fulfilled: firstly, because of ‘defective’ trailers, under-maintained because of a lack of qualified men, and, more significantly, simply through a lack of fit men available to do the pulling.19 A brief census of the Australian element at Changi,

September 1942–September 1943, part I 85 in September 1943, showed that officers averaged 37, with those hospitalised being 39, and ORs averaging 34, with those hospitalised being 33; no comparative figures, regrettably, are available for British POWs.20 Changi was to a great extent now a ‘gigantic hospital-cum-convalescent-depot-cum-rehabilitation centre’.21 While the loss of men was a cause for concern, paradoxically it proved to be the vital catalyst in obliging the POW community to focus their energies on surviving captivity. What had been a rigid application of military hierarchy and discipline, important in the aftermath of the Singapore surrender, was now attuned to the more specific demands of life as POWs. The changes in the substance of life at Changi obliged the POWs to refocus their energies. For example, with the departure of F Force, in April 1943, ‘general duties’ finally become the first charge on the services of soldiers employed as officers’ ‘batmen’. Officers were instructed to ‘reduce batting duties to a minimum otherwise only those unfit for any other duties will be employed as batmen’.22 While the expenditure of any time and effort on these services might have appeared trivial, not everyone at Changi shared this opinion. It fact the loss of batmen was considered to be a serious issue for some. Major Shean, a regular soldier, and the other officers in his mess stood to suffer when ‘Freeman [Shean’s batman] was picked . . . to go [up-country] along with Dolman, our head gardener’: But we had a protest mass meeting and eventually our two head cooks were detached as they were asking for a transfer anyway. This is the third time that I have been on the verge of losing Freeman and I hope this luck will hold.23 In a situation, such as at Changi, where the efficient utilisation of scarce rations was absolutely crucial, the willingness of Shean and his fellow officers to lose two experienced cooks seems particularly short-sighted when set against the value of the duties that a batman could provide. Despite this, the instruction compelling ‘batmen’ to relinquish their exclusive role does demonstrate that the exigencies of the situation at Changi were now sufficiently serious, and finally viewed as such, to prompt a more effective employment of manpower resources. The POW population, hitherto governed quite successfully by the same military structure that it entered captivity with, was now obliged to direct its energies towards surviving the more specific implications of captivity rather than just the fact of being taken prisoner. The latter concern, that captivity would strip the self-respect from soldiers and reduce them to a ‘mob’, had compelled the strict application of, and adherence to, military discipline. Now, the POW community was compelled to address the problems of captivity rather than the implications of being taken prisoner. This would mean compromises and inevitably trespass in areas of traditional military inflexibility, even though such as Major Shean appeared determined to resist in the short term. This consideration in itself may reveal the extent to which Shean and his fellow officers were, as yet, unaffected by shortages. The extent to which officers were insulated from the problems of POW life was not to last indefinitely. The implications of officers contributing insufficiently

86 September 1942–September 1943, part I to communal life had a more serious dimension than that of undermining traditional privilege. The officer population at Changi was considerable. In a census of Southern Area alone, taken in October 1942, Captain Malet expressed surprise at the concentration of commissioned men. He recorded that: Yesterday we had an Officers’ parade and S. Area turned out some 920 officers who were duly counted by the Nips and miraculously found to be correct! As a matter of interest this is how we lined up – Lt.-Col.s 32, Majors 100, Captains 284, Lt. 268, and 2nd Lt.s 216. We captains are quite a drag on the market you notice. But we didn’t come in that way! I should say about a third of these are definitely ‘Changi Captains’ promoted in here in order to draw the extra pay from the date of our captivity. The same probably applies to quite a few Majors – you bet we ‘pre-war’ Captains are very careful to have this point remembered in our favour!24 In May 1943 the Japanese demanded 3,000 additional men to form what would be known as H Force. By this point, there were few completely healthy men remaining and thus H force comprised 10 per cent class III men, ‘necessary through lack of fit personnel’.25 Captain Rogers was aware of this, writing that ‘many of these people in “H” party are unfit, particularly sixty odd with eye trouble. They are the poor devils who are likely to suffer most.’26 In fact the movement of H Force and F Force was accompanied, according to Lt.-Col. Galleghan, by assurances that these groupings ‘would NOT be working parties [and] were only being moved to an area where food was more plentiful’.27 In fulfilling these Japanese demands for manpower, Changi was stripped of what few fit men remained. The overt privileges of rank were now under serious threat as it became necessary for officers to take the place of enlisted men in the gangs of POWs pulling trailers around the camp, and also to take their turn working in the camp gardens.28 Despite the obvious necessity of a concerted, camp-wide response to developing problems, paradoxically it was not always forthcoming. These problems also highlighted the extent to which the camp was divided. Col. Shorland commented as follows: 30 April. We have now lost another 4,000 odd, and the problem of keeping the hospital and the gardens and wood-cutting going is very difficult. Every fit man is out on trailer parties, carting round wood or rations. It appears inevitable that we shall have to take to some form of feeding on a larger basis than the present mess of twenty-one. If so it will be a tragedy as regards the garden and fowls, which are now doing us very well in a small mess. People are willing enough to work hard for themselves and friends or for the sick in hospital, but when once the basis become larger, the number of drones and anti-social people seems to get bigger, and at once dissatisfaction creeps in. There have been plenty of heart burnings [sic] over those to go away. Many rush off to get doctor’s certificates, or find berths in cushy jobs to avoid mov-

September 1942–September 1943, part I 87 ing out. As a result good useful people like David go away, and the useless and unpleasant bits of work who never do a thing stay behind to be waited on by the rest of us.29 Major Shean, like Shorland, also felt that many men were not doing as much as they might: owing to the loss of so many men up country and overseas the o/c i/c British and Dutch cemetery cannot get enough labour to keep the place up. They called for volunteers from the area which holds about seventy officers we got seven volunteers . . . its always the few of the old gang from this house which do all the volunteering and all the jobs. I believe S.A. which has an officer population of approx. 350 produced 3 volunteers for the job! A few hours a week pottering in the cemetery and yet the buggers won’t give up hogging it on their beds.30 By mid-August 1943, the Japanese, too, expressed their concern that POW behaviour was becoming ‘slack’ and that there were far too many ‘healthy POWs remaining in lines’. The POW authorities’ response was finally to order all fit POWs not otherwise employed to work on the camp vegetable gardens.31 Despite the additional burdens imposed by fewer available men, Col. Shorland considered ‘there are advantages to the reduced numbers about the place, even though it makes more work. The garden produce goes further and so do the eggs.’32 Captain Ledingham, working in the hospital, also had few complaints about the exodus of most of the camp except to remark that he had ‘not very much to do now as so many have gone up-country’.33 The start of construction work on a new fence around part of the Changi area served to highlight the problems of insufficient men available to perform such major tasks. Captain Rogers had an amusing story concerned with this event. It illustrates further both the contradictory nature of Changi and the extent to which the men held there appreciated it: Quite recently, the IJA came down to divvy and said – ‘We want a working party, ‘can’t do’ says Divvy, ‘No men’, ‘We want a party to put up another fence.’ Says Divvy; ‘the men who put up the fence have all gone away – how big do you want the fence?’ ‘Big enough to keep the prisoners in’ was the answer, ‘two strands of wire’.34 While the depletion of POW numbers at Changi had both positive and negative effects, for those who had gone to work on the railway there were few compensatory elements. By late June 1943, rumours were already circulating about the fate of the men who had left Changi. Lt. Orr noted in his diary that he had heard ‘talk of 600 of F force who went up country being dead through cholera, we all went to bed feeling sad’.35 The loss of men had many implications for Changi, in particular the way in which captivity was experienced and endured. Existing structures, both physical

88 September 1942–September 1943, part I and psychological, were broken down and replaced by new modes of interpreting captivity and its demands. The construction of these new structures was vital in adapting to new challenges. These requirements did not make the necessary readjustments any easier to deal with, however.

Arrivals at Changi Although it was the departure of men from Changi that was the defining characteristic of this period, the traffic was not only one way. Many men also came to Changi, either those returning from Japanese working parties in Singapore or from other Japanese POW camps, principally in Java. Their responses to Changi, preserved in diary accounts, are particularly illuminating. The first arrivals, although strictly speaking the term ‘returnee’ is more accurate, were large groups of men employed in Singapore. These POWs had generally been absent from Changi for some months. In December 1942, the IJA gave notice that up to 10,000 men currently on working parties would return.36 Many of these POWs had not seen Changi since early March and had obviously not become accustomed to the peculiarities of life that had developed in their absence. The arrival of the first groups of Australians from Singapore emphasised the different behavioural standards pertaining at Changi. This initial group, numbering 1,200, had already consumed its share of the recently issued Red Cross rations before returning and had done so against instructions. Sensing the potential for trouble Lt.-Col. Galleghan issued the following order: DISCIPLINE: PERSONNEL RETURNING FROM SINGAPORE 1.

2. 3.

It will be emphasized to returning Singapore Working Parties that a high standard of discipline must be maintained in Changi in all aspects of camp life, particularly in observance of orders, saluting, general deportment, hygiene and parades. Gp Comds will hold special drill parades if slackness is evident, and all ranks will be so informed. Comd AIF will not be satisfied with less than the maximum effort by every man in Changi.37

Some days later the Australians also issued an additional instruction prohibiting the wearing of beards amongst POWs, save for naval personnel.38 These troops from Singapore were unfamiliar with the routine that had developed at Changi, and the Japanese authorities were also quick to notice the discrepancy between the Changi men and the new arrivals. They issued another officially sanctioned ‘routine’, which read as follows: CAMP ROUTINE The following routine has been laid down by the IJA (memo dated 15.12.42). 0800 hrs REVEILLE.

September 1942–September 1943, part I 89 0815 " 0900 " 0930–1300 hrs 1300–1400 " 1400–1600 " 1600–1800 " 1800 hrs 1930 hrs 2245 "

ROLL CALL. BREAKFAST. WORK PERIOD. MIDDAY MEAL. WORK PERIOD. REST PERIOD (Free period for washing and recreation) EVENING MEAL ROLL CALL LIGHTS OUT

The IJA order stressed that ‘there must be no movements outsides [sic] billets after Lights Out and no walking about from area to area, except for duty patrols and sentries’.39 This schedule was not unduly demanding in comparison to that of working parties in Singapore. In late January 1943 the AIF instituted a ‘compulsory’ lie-in on Sundays, with an instruction that ordered that breakfast should not be served before 09.30 hrs on Sundays.40 As a result of the return of these troops, the accommodation had to be revised almost as much as when men departed. In December 1942, the generally uncharitable Captain Rogers watched the Dutch residents of Selarang move to make way for some of the returning AIF men from Singapore. He said of the Dutch: Although they were all decent, the officers we had in our mess, it was a relief to see them go, . . . it was getting a bit tiring to have the place always surrounded by boongs of all colours . . . with their strange dirty habits . . . and their air of littering up the place. It is not a very Christian spirit to be pronouncing at this time of year [Christmas] but I am afraid that I cannot help it.41 The POW community still had notable divisions despite the events at Selarang square only months before. As well as accepting POWs from Singapore town, Changi also played host to men from outside Singapore. These groups spent varying amounts of time at Changi prior to continuing their journeys. And it is their apparent incredulity at what they found at Changi that is especially interesting. Captain H.D.A. Yates had been captured in Java while serving with the Royal Artillery. He arrived in Singapore in September 1942 and his first impressions are instructive: ‘Changi camp appeared to us to be a POW’s paradise . . . the only guards were on the road between the areas and one might go for days without even seeing a Japanese.’42 Yates was surprised by what he found at Changi, noting that: The accommodation varied enormously . . . some lived in positive luxury with salvaged furniture, messes and concert halls. The entire camp administration was in British hands and a complete military organisation existed headed by Malaya Command with red armbands . . . 43

90 September 1942–September 1943, part I On 7 January 1943, Corporal Albert Thompson, 2/6 Field Company, Royal Australian Engineers, also arrived in Singapore from Java. He also found Changi a stark contrast to his own experiences of captivity at the hands of the Japanese: After 40 minutes run from the docks we eventually came to ‘Changi’. Thought we were going to ‘Changi’ jail [sic] at first. What surprise when we turned into a camp with a huge parade ground in the centre – the Jap. guard immediately unfixed bayonets, counted us and cleared out. Well there are camps everywhere here and no Nips and no barb wire – what a time these people must be having. No scraping and bowing, no lashing and no interference whatever. We arrived here at 2200 hrs moved to a temporary camp had tea and went to bed in a tent and it was glorious with a keen fresh wind blowing in the open no one to worry you, it was glorious believe me after the boat. Evidently the camps here are run under their own steam.44 Lance-Corporal Kenneth Heyes arrived on the same day as Thompson and recorded a similar experience: [after landing in Singapore and driving] Transported about 15 miles north to large area in which there is nothing but prisoners, it was originally a British camp. Main road goes right through and one has to get leave pass to visit other camp all nationalities, about 4 miles away are all the Aussie prisoners . . . billeted in a large three storey barracks, good room and showers every other camp is patrolled by MPs, everyone has long hair.45 Although generalised judgements about the nature of captivity and imprisonment are difficult to make, Changi, in the eyes of these men and within their own range of experience as prisoners of the Japanese, was sufficiently different to prompt such comments and descriptions. Ironically, amongst some of the longterm POWs at Changi, the conditions under which men were being held in Java were also reported to be comparatively good and inevitably sparked off much debate and rumour.46 Lt. Orr compared conditions in Changi unfavourably with what he heard went on in Java, lamenting that ‘if they [the Japanese] can bring troops from Java they can bring food [from where it was believed to be plentiful]’.47 Major Shean had also heard that that the POWs in Java had been living on ‘milk and honey’.48 Major Gillies, a doctor, was better informed about Java and also about the privileges of life at Changi, noting that ‘the Java people are only passing through but we got all their sick and they have plenty of them. Quite evidently we have had a cushy time here compared with Java.’49 Despite the fact that these men seldom stayed for long periods, at the insistence of Major-General Fukuye, they were obliged to undertake work at Changi in order to ‘improve their health and enable them to earn working pay and thus supplement their rations by purchasing in the canteen’.50 These men were more confined in their movements than the Changi men and were prevented from ‘aimless wanderings’ from area to area, unless their various duties required them to do so. Some

September 1942–September 1943, part I 91 of the responses of the Changi troops to the new POWs were less than friendly and senior officers responsible for the ‘Java rabble’, as the Changi residents termed the new arrivals, were warned that they must adhere strictly to all Japanese orders and that ‘any violation of these regulations will result in severe punishment’.51 Captain Yates was initially impressed with the quality of POW life at Changi. He ‘soon discovered the fly in the ointment’, however, which ‘consisted of our own authorities rather than the Nips’. These ‘authorities’: demanded fatigues parties and they made regulations, restrictions and complaints about our behaviour. In return they gave us none of the things we needed . . . they resented the inroads which our arrival made on their rations as if it was our own fault that we had come to Singapore or that the Nips would not make compensatory increases in rations.52 Corporal Thompson also did not particularly enjoy his time there: There is a very high feeling running between the ‘Java rabble’ as we are termed and 8 [Australian] Div., with all their parade ground discipline and their correct regimented dress, it’s all very well for them to sling off at we, who have had every thing stuffed from us and kicked and bashed round for 12 months after action. They have a lot to learn, even our officers particularly Col. Dunlop won’t have a bar of them.53 The conflict between the apparent ‘parade ground’ discipline that these men recognised at Changi came to a head and involved the aforementioned Dunlop. It began with Lt.-Col. Galleghan’s enquiry as to why Lt.-Col. Dunlop, a medical officer rather than a field officer, was in command of a group of POWs composed principally of combat troops. Galleghan was informed that it was a Japanese decision to so appoint Dunlop as senior officer.54 After an intervention by Brigadier Arthur Blackburn, an AIF officer of greater seniority than Galleghan and himself recently arrived from Java, Dunlop remained in command.55 Galleghan’s ‘confirmation’ of this appointment was made ‘in view of the above mentioned Japanese order and . . . in view of the fact that all combatant officers of the party agree to come under command of Lt. Col. Dunlop for purposes of discipline’.56 Galleghan was informed that it was a Japanese decision to so appoint Dunlop and that this had the approval of those field officers in Dunlop’s group.57 Galleghan, however, was obviously opposed to this type of circumvention of normal promotional routes, even though the local situation demanded such action. Later in the war, Galleghan too would approve such actions in Changi when he became convinced of their merit. Australian Brigadier Blackburn had arrived in Changi whilst en route to Japan, along with a number of senior Allied officers including Lt.-Gen. ter Poorten (C. in C. Army and Navy Netherlands East Indies), Air Vice-Marshal P.C. Maltby, RAF, and Col. Albert Searle. It was arranged by Lt.-Col. Holmes for these officers to request from the Japanese some of the outstanding concerns of the POWs at

92 September 1942–September 1943, part I Changi, regarding extra pay and rations, in the hope that the seniority of these men would have an impact. The only apparent result was a promise that postcards home would be supplied to those who had not yet been given any.58 The relocation of Changi camp around the Changi peninsula, together with the enforced introduction of other POWs not familiar with conditions at Changi, helped the ‘Changi-ites’ both to become aware of some of the more incongruous elements of Changi and, through this, also to appreciate the comparative luxury of their situation. Changi was still perceived by its ‘indigenous’ POW population as being somehow different. Experience of other camps or the testimony of other POWs helped to articulate these differences and in doing so contributed to the growing Changi esprit de corps that had begun with the Selarang incident. The difference in attitude and behaviour discernible between the ‘Changi-ites’ and the ‘Java rabble’ was important in emphasising this, even when many men at Changi grew disenchanted with such a regimented existence. The River Valley cantonment, in Singapore town, was a camp to which large numbers of men from Changi had been sent to live whilst employed on working parties around Singapore town and island. It was described by Major Shean, after an admittedly brief visit, in the following terms: ‘[it’s] a bloody camp . . . no liberty and Jap. and Sikh sentries all round and no view . . . altogether it’s much worse than Changi’.59 Shean was able to make a very clear distinction between the conditions at Changi and those he saw on display at River Valley camp. He was sufficiently aware of the situation to realise that his existence at Changi was infinitely more preferable on the one hand, yet also at odds with what might be expected as a POW. The factors that contributed to Shean’s judgement, ‘no liberty . . . sentries all round’, are not in themselves unreasonable constituent elements for a POW camp. Rather, these elements would seem to be prerequisites for such an institution and only when compared to Changi can these staples of containment appear unreasonable.

Internal camp movements Just as the departure of men from Changi shed light on the manner in which the POW population had began to re-prioritise their activities, so does the reorganisation of the camp itself. As POW numbers ebbed and flowed, so the physical boundaries of the camp contracted and expanded in response. In September 1942, the POW camp extended right across the Changi peninsula, encompassing most of the buildings and facilities of the pre-war British army base. A year later, with numbers drastically reduced, the camp had contracted considerably. This enforced movement had a profound impact. It destroyed the sense of familiarity that the previous ten months had engendered and the sense of reassurance that had grown from this period of comparative stability. Importantly, it also contributed to the general sense of a new beginning, something that was to prove vital in realising the different approach to captivity that was simultaneously developing. In early September, apparently with a view to possible security implications, the Japanese ordered the evacuation of all buildings occupied by prisoners that

September 1942–September 1943, part I 93 overlooked the sea.60 One of the most significant of these moves was that of Malaya. Command, the POW headquarters, from the ‘Temple Hill’ area to ‘Gun Hill’. Col. Shorland had been accommodated at Temple Hill since the capitulation and this move was not appreciated either by him or by his colleagues. He noted: we’ve just been ordered to move out from No. 2 Temple Hill which is a tragedy. On the credit side a change of scene, digging a new garden and the efforts of movement will shake us up and give us food for thought, but as against that we lose the accumulated comforts of nine months, a nice room, a pleasant way of living, a garden and some forty-nine fowls and all of which have been welded into a bearable existence by our own sweat and toil.61 Shorland’s synopsis of life at Temple Hill suggests that a forced move from such a location was, indeed, a significant readjustment for him. After this relocation in autumn 1942, the camp remained comparatively static until February 1943. At that point the distances involved in travelling to and from that part of the peninsula where wood was obtained, for fuel purposes, were found to be causing some distress to the personnel obliged to march and haul trailers there each day. With this in mind, the Japanese agreed to the move of the 11 Division area to Southern Area in order to accommodate all the British personnel engaged on wood cutting and garden duties.62 The area, formerly occupied by the 11 Indian Division, was henceforth to be known as the ‘Garden and Woodcutting area’.63 The new accommodation arrangements also threw together different units and nationalities, men who had not previously been obliged to live in close proximity. This brought problems in its own right. At the beginning of April 1943 the AIF and Malaya Command were compelled to issue orders after several cases were reported of the failure to salute Dutch officers by British and AIF other ranks. These orders stressed that ‘It must be made clear that Officers of all nationalities in the POW camp are entitled to the compliment of salutes by all O.R.s.’64 Captain Rogers, accommodated at Selarang since February 1942, realised that his part of Changi was likely to receive new residents as a result of the continuing accommodation reshuffles, a consideration he looked forward to with some trepidation: Easter Saturday and how quiet the place is, not on account of any religious significance, but rather to the fact that there is practically no one living in the square at the moment. This state of affairs is likely to change very rapidly, as English and Dutch troops are coming over from Southern Area. Things will be pretty stinking then – we will have to keep everything locked, and increase our hygiene precautions, because the Tommy has absolutely no idea of hygiene, either personal or en masse. And it must be admitted that his officers have none also.65 His complaints perhaps had some validity, as Captain Wilkinson recorded: ‘gave a severe talk to all the fusiliers about messing up the latrines. Some of the men have filthy habits and we are determined to stamp them out.’66

94 September 1942–September 1943, part I Major Shean was less concerned about these accommodation revisions, although he still believed that the large numbers of men sent away ‘means a withdrawal inland from the north end of the Changi head’.67 As has been noted before, Shean, a conservative, professional soldier was resistant to many of the changes at Changi. Yet, as a comparatively senior officer and one who remained in Singapore for the duration of the war, it was men like Shean who were most responsible for shaping the nature and attitude of the camp.68 The new circumstances that the POWs found themselves in during this period required a new and more flexible approach to captivity. Shean’s comment that the moves and loss of men ‘virtually means the end of the old Changi camp’ is an admission that the former existence at Changi was over and a new one was beginning. This in itself made the acceptance of new methods easier to adapt to for men like Shean. The Japanese had, up to this point, been only unwitting catalysts for these changes in the POW community. They now proceeded to remodel Changi considerably, in pursuit of accommodation for their own personnel, and in doing so continued the evolution the POW body. At the beginning of June 1943 the camp boundaries were revised again, with Changi road itself off-limits but permission now having been granted for POW parties to move outside the perimeter wire on anti-malarial duties for the first time – something that further undermined the symbolic nature of the wire.69 The number of men remaining at Changi was now so few that the Garden and Woods area, only established in February, was shut down in June and placed ‘out of bounds’ to all ranks, unless on authorised duty.70 The personnel accommodated there relocated to Selarang.71 More extensive, and more restrictive, orders were issued with reference to ‘Bounds’ on the 13 June. The free life at Changi was becoming evermore restricted: AIF Routine Order No. 159 – BOUNDS: The following areas are out of bounds to all ranks: (1) G & W Area – except as provided in AIF RO 156. (MCRO126). (2) The old Southern Area – vide AIF RO 155. (MC a/118/6214). (3) Vegetable Garden Area – except to personnel employed in that area during working hours. (MCRO 129(ii)(b)). (4) The area east of the Changi Rd. excluding the British and AIF cemeteries there. (MC RO 129 (ii)(c)). (5) The Command piggeries except to personnel on duty and those accommodated there. (MC RO 129(ii)(d)). (6) AGH – except during the afternoon and for organized parties attending entertainment. (7) The Changi Road after evening roll call (1900 hrs) each night.72 Towards the end of July rumours around Changi suggested that the hospital would be moved from its location at Roberts Barracks, where it had been established just days after the surrender, into the recently vacated Garden and Woods area. This debate over the pros and cons of this move is peculiarly illustrative of

September 1942–September 1943, part I 95 the changing nature of POW/IJA relations. According to Major Thompson, Lt.Col. Holmes made ‘strong representation’ to Gen. Arimura, who had replaced Major-General Fukuye in November 1942, that the move of the hospital should not take place. Holmes stated that the result of such a move would have a negative impact upon POW health; that much work had gone into the current establishment and to achieve similar results from scratch would take many months; that the buildings in No. 2 area were of inferior quality and infested with bugs and rats and situated in a low-lying area of Changi; that there was inadequate drainage for hospital functions and, even using all existing accommodation, the current strength of the hospital staff could not be housed.73 The diary of an anonymous Australian officer described it as ‘a shocking place containing only a few attap huts, with no electric lights or sewerage and very little water’. This account noted that the Japanese wanted the hospital site and the buildings in Selarang for use as accommodation for their own troops, and ‘so we have to get out’.74 All buildings in the Changi area were now marked in Japanese characters with the words ‘Requisitioned for POW’, a seemingly pointless task but one which has echoes of the earlier Japanese instructions on the treatment of POWs.75 Major Shean, serving on Lt.-Col. Holmes’s staff, considered that Holmes needed to make a ‘really firm protest [over the hospital issue] and demand to see Gen. Arimura’ but that ‘EB has feet of clay and has no guts at all’. Shean delivered a damning indictment on his superior. He thought that Holmes ‘can never have been anything but a rather indifferent C.O. of a rather indifferent unit and after the Selarang incident he seems to have lost any spunk he may have had and is all for a quiet time which is fatal in this place’.76 The initial arguments over the move of the hospital were resolved when the Japanese subsequently decided that the entire camp, including the hospital, would relocate to the Selarang barracks area with accommodation allocated on a per capita strength basis.77 This instruction followed the POWs’ own assessment, passed on to the IJA in May 1943, that ‘it will [soon] be impossible to maintain the camp if further working parties are ordered away’.78 The extent to which this had an effect on the Japanese decision is impossible to quantify. In the same manner, Lt.-Col. Holmes’s protest about the hospital may or may not have influenced the Japanese. What is certain, however, is that in July 1943 news reached Changi of the death of an Australian POW at Outram Road gaol.79 The treatment of POWs at Outram Road was also the subject of a similar ‘strong protest’ by Lt.-Col. Holmes.80 Some weeks after this protest eight POWs were returned to Changi hospital from Outram Road for what was described as ‘badly needed treatment’.81 As was usual with the Japanese, no indication was given as to whether it was Holmes’s actions that had prompted the return of these men. It did, however, confirm that protests needed to be made on a regular basis, irrespective of their efficacy. Ironically, continued protests from Holmes appear to have given the Japanese a false impression of the unity of the POW body who, in turn, responded with new directives aimed at undermining this apparent unity of purpose. In fact it was Japanese restrictions, more than anything else, which served to cement the POW community more firmly together.

96 September 1942–September 1943, part I The extent to which the POW community was actually united at this time is debatable. The move of the entire camp to Selarang square resulted in a second ‘concentration’ of troops, albeit one that lacked the element of coercion that had characterised the first. In addition, the number of men involved was far reduced and, in the interim period, the Japanese had provided mains electricity for all the buildings in the square. Despite these compensatory elements, the new move was conducted in a far less generous spirit than the previous one. Captain Rogers, a long-term resident of Selarang, commented: everyone must move from their quarters around the square into new abodes, we were given no more space to make up for this inundation and consequently everybody crammed up together as closely packed as when we first came into the camp, despite the fact that there are only 5000 of us left, about 1200 being AIF.82 The Japanese at least granted permission to move five attap huts from the old hospital area to Selarang to help alleviate any overcrowding, later revising this figure and allowing for as many huts as possible to be dismantled, the final number being 18.83 The successful move of so many huts was a significant achievement when the only form of transport was still the hand-drawn trailer. The diary of an anonymous Australian officer termed this move back to Selarang barracks as the ‘great trek’. He noted that ‘practically the whole of the Roberts barracks area . . . was cleaned out and moved by trailer, pushed by hand’.84 He considered that: the amount of stuff to be moved was enormous but gradually it all got across. I can’t say it all reached the square, as there was considerable looting . . . on the way across. For straight dishonesty I think this camp would be hard to beat, and I have reached the stage where I will hardly trust anybody especially ‘so called friends.’ Quite a good deal of stuff for our duckyards was ‘lifted’ after it had arrived in the square.85 Lt.-Col. Galleghan considered the implications of continued accommodation moves in his post-war report: The Japanese never made much effort to adjust accommodation to the needs of the camp. The result was that far too frequently re-allotments of accommodation were necessary, especially in furtherance of the policy of keeping troops in units so far as possible.86 In May 1943, the IJA posted guards at the perimeter wire and declared the old Southern Area strictly out of bounds.87 With the move to Selarang, the IJA now took over building No. 152 inside the Selarang barracks complex itself. This was to be used as a guardhouse. The close proximity of the Japanese to their captives,

September 1942–September 1943, part I 97 a situation that had not been common in Changi up until this point, resulted in a ‘number of incidents, but soon quietened down’.88 This appeared to be merely the latest instalment in a perceptible tightening of direct Japanese influence on the POW camp as a whole.

The incongruities of Changi The many apparent incongruities of Changi were not restricted solely to an absence of barbed wire and watchtowers. By the end of April 1943, large numbers of the remaining Changi population had relocated to Selarang square at the behest of the Japanese. Shortly before the vacated areas were ruled out of bounds, Captain Rogers, who had himself been held at Changi from the surrender, made an interesting discovery. His diary extracts are worth quoting in full: Personally, this week has been rather full, Monday night Harold and I went over to Southern area to hear a concert there. It was typically English and though the orchestra was shocking, we were well entertained. Now this will rock you – there is, in this half-starved, desolate, under-fed joint a restaurant running. Over in 18 Div., run by the Dutch, who receive practically no pay from the IJA, and they have adopted this way of getting money to contribute to the hospital. We had heard that Greenwood’s swing band would be playing there, but unfortunately, on Tuesday night when we went there, they had finished their season. However it was a most peculiar evening. I have been in some queer dives, but this must rank as among the queerest. The building was divided into two, on one side being a large bar arrangement patronised by the O.R.s and another smaller portion with a few tables and forms separated from the larger part by a partition of palm leaves, reserved for officers. It was a cross between a cheap bar and a coffee lounge and the customers were Dutch, British, Americans and Australians, and I might add a very rare mixture of each. Anyhow, we . . . had a sandwich each, three cups of coffee and two slices of toast with herrings on – my night cost me 39 cents – not much perhaps, but I am now stony, and we will not be paid for at least another twelve days. But what is the odds? It was a welcome break and we all enjoyed it. Grog can be purchased there at times, the ‘white wine’ costing 40 cents per bottle, and the better ‘red wine’, which takes at least a fortnight to mature, costing slightly more. Fortunately we did not know about the grog, otherwise we may have had the pleasure of a hangover the following morning.89 Rogers was not alone in appreciating this ‘peculiar’ restaurant. The diary of an anonymous Australian officer also contains a similarly extensive reference to it. The diary mirrors Rogers’s entry in almost every facet: With the cleaning out of 18th Div. and Southern Area all the troops remaining there are being moved to Selarang. With them goes one of our lately

98 September 1942–September 1943, part I discovered haunts – the Changi restaurant – known as ‘Smokey Joe’s’. The ‘raison d’être’ of this place is that the IJA do not pay the Java parties at all; consequently 18th Div. allowed the Dutch to start and run this restaurant, and all profits were dedicated to providing extra food for the Java parties. Recently John and I developed the habit of going there occasionally in the evenings . . . I was never able to get in there in the mornings although I believe it was better then and less crowded. Last Saturday night – almost the last night before the place closed down, it was an amazing night. The restaurant itself consists of an attap hut with one end partitioned off by palm leaf . . . for officers, and the whole place was packed to capacity. All the overflow were sitting about in the grass outside . . . most of the officers from the 18th Div. were there for a final farewell before they went up country, and a fair crowd from the hospital and from Selarang also were there. It is too absurd for words when you come to think of it – the poor prisoners of war, instead of being cooped up in compounds, guarded by numerous guards, and afraid to lift a finger, simply coming from all parts of the area to spend a pleasant – if hot – evening at the ‘cafe’ with full musical accompaniment. The night was made all the more unforgettable by the fact that the only lights were coconut oil lamps, as the 18th Div. electric light engine had been packed up to take upcountry with them. ‘Smokey Joe’s Cafe’ will go down in the annals of the history of Changi.90 The general camp reorganisation obliged ‘Smokey Joe’s’ to close its doors, but it did re-open for business at a new location in Selarang barracks. Despite the late discovery of such an odd establishment by some at Changi, the mere fact that it had existed at all, and apparently thrived, was a source of both wonder and comfort. The detailed representations of ‘Smokey Joe’s’ in several diaries have a significance that goes beyond simply recording the fact of its being. These accounts emphasise the pride apparent in being a part of a group that could both conceive of and realise such an apparent paradox – a functioning restaurant within a prisoner of war camp. The existence of ‘Smokey Joe’s’ demonstrated to the Japanese that the POW community was possessed of extraordinary degrees of resourcefulness and imagination. ‘Smokey Joe’s’ also had a subtle bearing on the conduct of internal POW relations, which were more fractious than they appeared to be. While Captain Rogers had been happy to dismiss some of the Dutch colonial troops as ‘boongs’ some months earlier, his discovery of ‘Smokey Joe’s’ café obliged him to reconsider some of his more immediate prejudices. The café served to demonstrate the depths of ingenuity and initiative possessed by the Dutch contingent at Changi, and, as a result, all the POWs were able to bask in the reflected glory of such an achievement, irrespective of which national grouping was responsible. As the years passed such internal divisions never entirely disappeared, but they do seem to have become blurred to an extent. Occurrences such as ‘Smokey Joe’s’ were the catalysts for this and served to weld the disparate elements remaining at Changi into a far more cohesive grouping. They also had the additional benefit of demon-

September 1942–September 1943, part I 99 strating that, for all its deprivations, Changi still had the power to elicit surprise from its own ‘captive’ population. This in turn encouraged other POWs to innovate similarly and, once again, often the effort of doing so had as much benefit as the achievement it was conceived to realise.

6

Changi: September 1942–September 1943, part II

Life at Changi became more complicated and appreciably harder during this period. While the previous chapter discussed some of the events that shaped the POW community, this chapter will attempt to take a look at what constituted the Changi POW camp during this time. It will explore whether those held there still believed it to be a ‘unique’ institution, as they had in the early months, and what impact, if any, these considerations had on POW behaviour. This chapter will also examine how those who were introduced to Changi for the first time during these months perceived it.

Speculation about the future At Changi, Christmas was the time when the most effort was made to disguise the reality of captivity. Captain Wilkinson and his men in the Northumberland Fusiliers appeared to have enjoyed Christmas in 1942: All the [Northumberland] Fusiliers paraded . . . and each man was given 2 cigars . . . at 20.30hrs a large open air concert was held on the hockey ground. Horner was compere and the dance band did stout work. It was again floodlit and there was a very large audience. The Japs allowed us to have lights on until 1.00am.1 The celebrations for this Christmas, the first in captivity, brought forth many more demonstrations of ingenuity and a renewal of positive feelings about the future. The Japanese gift of 76 bottles of brandy and 966 tins of the ubiquitous pineapple greatly aided the festive spirit.2 The POWs managed to enjoy a comparatively plentiful festive season, with such Red Cross supplies as remained being issued for Christmas day and reserves of food being issued.3 Captain Wilkinson commented that ‘the men in hospital are all going to have a first class Christmas dinner of soup, roast pork and veges [sic] and Christmas pudding. Every effort is being made to provide every man in the camp with as good as a Christmas dinner as possible.’4 So memorable was it, apparently, that W.W. Sowter still remembered Christmas well into January:

September 1942–September 1943, part II 101 This is the 15 January, we had an issue of brandy as a present from the Japs on New Year’s Eve, one bottle between ten men. I had my shot and then, as it was my first in ten months + also New Year’s Eve, I thought I might as well make a job of it so I took me [sic] to a block where I knew some fellas and quite a lot of them were selling theirs so I soon had a pint mug full and then some. I did manage to reach my billet but not to undress and knew no more till reveille next morning. Next day I saw two fellas going to the football match blind to the world with a bottle in each jacket. Incidentally one can get anything in this camp provided one has the money even though that article cannot be bought in Singapore in the ordinary way.5 Col. Shorland felt that the POWs generally ‘go into the second year of war a happy band’.6 The New Year was certainly a cause for celebration for Major Gillies, who commented: ‘we saw the New Year in great style – nearly everyone in the mess was tight!’7 Gillies recalled that ‘we were issued with 2ozs of some kind of dope by the Japs – it tasted rather like a cherry brandy’. In real ‘Great Escape’ fashion ‘all sorts of home brews came to light’, although the reality behind these particular displays of invention was slightly macabre, with Gillies claiming that ‘the mortuary attendant has been the leading light in the art of distilling . . . there was a rumour that no livers were put back after post-mortems. Their sugar content was too valuable!’8 Captain Dickson reported similarly inventive ideas that utilised whatever material was available, this time that the ‘tips of pineapple leaves were used for gramophone needles’, although he failed to comment on whether these were successful or not.9 Captain Alan Rogers was also playing records and having a ‘bit of a recital’, although he lamented the fact that ‘the records were badly worn and the needles bad’, but still managed to create the impression of a thoroughly civilised occasion. Rogers also speculated on what the current ‘hits’ might be, thinking that ‘it is just something else to look forward to when we get home’.10 Rogers was remarkably positive about his experiences, noting that ‘that phrase “when we get home” must occur a few hundred times a day throughout the camp. The very thought colours our very existence.’11 Rogers was still sufficiently confident that it was a matter of when, rather than ‘if’. Major Shean also had few complaints other than the obvious fact of being held as a POW. In fact this predicament was apparently less of a concern to some of his fellow officers than others: Perhaps the only advantage of being here is that one has time to think and to analyse one’s character and try and correct the faults which one always knew existed but couldn’t do anything about. Imprisonment is not too bad, also, for those chaps with creative hobbies who in normal life have little spare time. Some chaps are like schoolboys on holiday and with nothing but scraps of material make the most wonderful things such as musical instruments, steam engines, electric clocks . . . I certainly envy them. They potter along with their hands and have no time to bother their heads with morbid thoughts or introspection.12

102 September 1942–September 1943, part II The 15th of February 1943, of course, brought with it the unwelcome anniversary of the surrender and of captivity. Captain Rogers was philosophical about this, yet still alluded to the shame of defeat. He wrote: ‘what a day in British history. What a name for unborn school children to revere. What a memory for us to nourish in our hearts, we, its [Singapore’s] gallant defenders.’13 By the end of March Captain Ledingham was also writing: ‘I do wish to hell we’d get out of this bloody place. What a waste of time it is this war – a wasted youth.’14 A couple of months later Ledingham thought that ‘I wish to hell things would get a move on. Here I am 10 years qualified and a bloody prisoner and no hopes of getting out it seems for ages.’15 While Ledingham’s remarks are superficially negative, they at least assume that captivity is something that will be survived and not an end in itself. Captain Rogers, however, did have some positive comments to make, concluding that ‘this year, looking back, has probably done most of us a lot of good. We have learned the value of good companionship under trying conditions . . . tolerance has been learned.’16 In fact, through much of this period, the practical extent of complaints are confined to the implications of being a prisoner, rather than the conditions under which one was being held as a prisoner. On the anniversary of the Singapore surrender, Staff Sergeant. Burrey wrote: ‘one year POW today. I pray we will be released before another passes but I can stick it if we’re not out by then.’17 Major Shean also thought that ‘the first [year] has really gone quite quickly – thanks I suppose to having plenty to do . . . I hate missing the war and being cut off from everybody but in a way this imprisonment hasn’t been too bad.’18 Staff Sergeant Burrey thought Changi a strange place during these months: 31 Mar. The camp here is self supporting in many things now days. We cut own firewood, have big veg gardens, plumber shop where cooking utensils are made of scrap tin etc. and a small rubber factory. Patches are put on latex but it’s not a great success as it’s hard to get on the feet after sitting down for a few minutes. Believe they are attempting to make sandshoes. Rumour has it that two Japs were caught in S. Area with a number of sweaters the other day and were put in the Pom’s Gaol. The Pom Officers then got in touch with the Nip Officers but they refused to have anything to do with the matter so the two Nips are still in clink – It’s a funny world!19 Burrey at least always tried to remain positive, noting: Have started to learn Malay. After hearing the opportunities that will be open here after the war I have a wild idea that I wouldn’t mind coming back here for a few years. Probably the craze will have worn off me by the time I get out of here.20 Burrey, like many of the POWs at Changi, oscillated between periods of prolonged positive thinking and similar lengths of time when the reality of the situation served only to depress him. The subject of POW complaints also provides

September 1942–September 1943, part II 103 a useful insight into their psychological health during this period. Captain Wilkinson felt that the previous certainties of life as POW, few though they were, had been significantly undermined and noted the widespread ‘unsettled feeling . . . with all this up-country business about’.21 Col. Shorland, a regular soldier before the war, summed up his period of captivity to date: And so to the balance sheet. Assets: work, mentally in office and physically in the garden. Books to read, Spanish to learn and amusing amateur entertainment to attend. The cultivation of economy, patience and the simple life. Liabilities: No touch of any sort with home. No part in the contest. A legacy of damaged health, bitterness and hatred and above all the fearful waste of precious time. A lot of items are inevitable in war . . . but the lack of touch with families is the worst evil and lets hope we soon get something in or out.22 Shorland also reflected that ‘speculation in time is now rather unpopular and people just live from day to day’. He still emphasised his own positive thoughts about the future: ‘my budget of soap and clothing still goes to Feb.’44 and [if] after that [we have not been released] I really shall begin to get angry’.23 Lt. Orr also thought that ‘we feel envious of those chaps now fighting. Being a POW is the worst penalty that can be given to a soldier.’24 Despite the uncertainty of life, with its constant camp reorganisations and movements of men, Major Shean still thought that ‘we’ve all reached a rather funny state now’: Although we’re quite convinced that the news is better than it has been since the capitulation it seems to affect us so remotely and one sees no reason why one shouldn’t be a POW for 3 or 4 years time. It is a shattering thought but somehow one gets almost resigned because it’s so hard to visualise any other life now.25 Almost imperceptibly, the POW population had come to accept their predicament, not with resignation and its negative implications but rather with a determination to endure. They were aided in this by the progressive deterioration in conditions that were alleviated, partially, by actions and incentives of the POWs’ own devising. They were aided also by a variety of positive events: the arrival of mail, the sending of postcards and the distribution of token quantities of Red Cross provisions. These all took the hard edge from the isolation of the early months. In January 1943, Staff Sergeant. Burrey exclaimed: ‘I’ve finally arrived at the stage where I take this life for granted and feel that I don’t give a bugger if our release is one or ten years hence.’ While this a more overt and forcibly expressed sentiment than many of his comrades may have confessed to, it is certainly one that captures the way in which the POWs now perceived their existence.26 Burrey’s own life had been improved significantly by the simple act of ‘running a wire from the officer’s battery into our quarters now. It’s a break to have an electric light. The evenings are not half as long.’27 This simple action encapsulated much of what

104 September 1942–September 1943, part II the POWs saw as positive during this time, a small incremental improvement in their material comfort, conceived and executed without either the interference or the sanction of the Japanese.

Health and diet: deficiencies and their remedies The problems of an inadequate diet, in combination with insufficient drugs, began to make an impression on Changi during this period. At the beginning of September 1942 Signaller Coombs, however, had few complaints, considering that ‘life is quite good these days, messing is up to a very high standard and many interesting lectures in the evening’.28 Coombs’s two positive elements in his POW life, that of ‘messing’ and ‘education’, were both reduced in quality and quantity a year later – the education element by virtue of the loss of so many qualified instructors. In terms of diet, the food situation received a major boost with the arrival, in September, of a new consignment of Red Cross ‘comforts’, numbering 40,000 cases that amounted to approximately 1,700 tons.29 These goods were the balance of supplies that had arrived in April yet reached Changi for distribution only on 7 October. The impact of these rations was tremendous and few diarists failed to acknowledge their arrival. Private Houghton wrote that ‘everyone is now in high spirits over the gifts as it [Red Cross supplies] means it will build up our bodies a little’.30 Lt. Baillies did not receive a Red Cross parcel, but he mentioned that his friend received one ‘from his wife in South Africa. It was our first link with the outside world. I’m sure we all enjoyed opening it as much as [he] did.’31 After this issue Cyril Coombs commented: ‘well done the Red Cross. No words can express my feelings for the South African people [from whom the goods originated].’32 While everyone appeared greatly cheered by the new rations, CSM Romney recorded a note of dissension: ‘apropos the Red Cross rations, I heard this comment this morning: “plenty of bleeding vitamins but no f****** smokes”. There will always be someone to grouse.’33 Col. Shorland thought that ‘we are no longer half starved thanks to the Red Cross rations’, and also that ‘we are pretty well organised’. Despite these positive comments on POW life, he still felt that the ‘veneer of civilisation controlling our welfare is very thin and we are definitely living on a volcano’.34 The Red Cross supplies, which brought some temporary comfort, were distributed to messes as a whole, rather than to individuals, and the goods were then made available. This system was adopted for all future Red Cross supplies.35 Hopes of a miracle end to captivity were still widely entertained during the autumn of 1942. Major Shean, in his capacity with Malaya Command, had been responsible for meeting many of the men transhipped from Java. Shean was surprised at the naïveté of these troops and wrote that they ‘honestly swear that they have been told by the Japs that they are to be repatriated in exchange for Japs’.36 The possibility of repatriation was continually discussed, even among the more permanent residents of Changi itself. Captain Ledingham, working as a surgeon in the hospital, remarked that the ‘question of repatriation has been brought up’, and Ledingham himself was asked ‘to submit a list of persons who would be no

September 1942–September 1943, part II 105 further use to our war effort. This is a pretty stiff test as a leg-less man could still do a job in an office. Question has also arisen in regard to M.O.s [Medical Officers] but I don’t think anything will come of that.’37 The promise of repatriation and the associate problems that came with it were popular during the early part of this period of captivity and, although the prospect of such an event was remote, the rumours themselves became the subject of a disciplinary order issued by Malaya Command and the AIF, reading: The name of any individual who after publication of this order approaches personnel, in writing, or in any other way any Commander, staff officer, of [sic] medical in respect of his personnel position regarding repatriation or non-combatant status, will be reported to this H.Q. for disciplinary action. This order will be brought to the notice of all officers at once.38 This order, dated October 1942, is significant and indicative of the determination of the POWs to face their immediate future as well as the growing awareness of what was required. No longer were they content to await passively for release at some indeterminate point in the future. While individual speculation on the future was obviously common, collectively activity began to focus more upon overcoming local difficulties and in improving life at Changi. Schemes such as Galleghan’s combat force, while not abandoned in principal, were symptomatic of the early months at Changi and as such were relegated behind more practical ideas conceived to improve life while captive. This despite the fact that the opportunity to realise this scheme had not diminished appreciably. The principal complaint during this time was lack of food. Captivity, to an extent, was something that could be handled, but the food problem was now becoming a real issue. In fact Private W.W. Sowter went so far as to say that ‘it would be a real holiday if we had some food’.39 Some months previously he had considered that ‘it gets a bit boring at times but I could stick this life for years (may have to) if only they would feed us’.40 As the scarcity of all basic requirements became apparent, so too did the many attempts by the POWs to overcome these shortages, but deficiencies increased. These took the form of individual initiatives, generally of a basic nature, and more sophisticated attempts that drew on the wide variety of skills present at Changi. While individuals adopted their own, frequently unscientific ideas, often without success, many were buoyed simply by the self-satisfaction of making some attempt. Captain Horner, for example, proclaimed the benefits of peanuts: ‘personally I eat a good number of peanuts . . . [they] are good value as being a source of B.1 I don’t feel too bad in myself but like most people I find I tire quickly and have little real stamina, also “black-outs” are prevalent.’41 More concerted and considered efforts took the form of a recommendation that 1 oz of rice, 1⁄2 oz of whitebait, 1⁄2 coconut or palm oil should be added daily to rations in an attempt to ward off the onset of vitamin deficiency.42 Irrespective of such effort, the number of men being admitted to hospital suffering from deficiency diseases was on the increase. Some months later, Captain

106 September 1942–September 1943, part II Horner also began to notice effects brought on by the poor diet, writing: ‘My jolly old eyes are getting pretty groggy, although nowhere near as bad as some peoples. I can still read for short spells at a time, quite a large number of officers and men can’t read at all.’43 By December 1944 the AIF had 103 men either partially blind or blind in one eye as a result of prolonged dietary deficiencies.44 The Japanese were apparently aware of the vitamin deficiency problem and asked the prisoners for suggestions on how the existing ration scale might be improved, laying special emphasis on the requirements of the hospital. Vitamin deficiency was a very real concern at Changi. In order to overcome the problems that arose from an absence of sufficient fresh vegetable produce, the Japanese themselves established extensive new vegetable gardens. The scale of these gardens was such that they required 400 POWs to work in them initially. This figure later rose to 1,000.45 The practical impact of such a scheme was less beneficial than it might seem, however. Lt.-Col. Holmes considered subsequently that the gardens ‘remained a constant commitment throughout [the period of captivity]’, and that the ‘produce was included in, and not additional to, the Imperial Japanese Army ration’.46 The men at Changi were therefore required to expend considerable energies, whilst living on an inadequate diet, in order to contribute to that same diet. While Holmes’s comments about the gardens are at best equivocal, the positive benefits of keeping active in the gardens, mental as well as physical, although less quantifiable, were likely to have been significant. Also, in early September 1942 reported dysentery cases were on the increase and the IJA responded by promising that all troops would be ‘medically inspected’.47 Several days later Lt. Baillies recorded: ‘we were all weighed and measured by the Japanese, not, we trust, for coffins. I am 5ft 11′′ . . . weight 152 lbs’.48 Captain Horner noted: ‘my weight is still dropping, down now to 10st 6lb – I thought I was in for an attack of dysentery as I had acute stomach pains, but these have passed’.49 CSM Romney noticed a report in the Japanese-sponsored Syonan Times newspaper, claiming that ‘British prisoners of war have received and are fondly handling parcels from their nearest kith and kin.’ Romney noted ironically that ‘We have not and are not’, and in fact the food position was ‘becoming execrable, the rice invariably musty and difficult to swallow’.50 By December 1942, significant inroads into the already meagre diet were being made, firstly by the cessation of meat issues, which were replaced by fish rations distributed in lieu.51 The stated Japanese reason for this was that all the meat held in the Singapore cold storage had now been exhausted.52 It was also pointed out to the Japanese that while the substitution of fish for meat appeared significant, it was actually a reduction in rations as there was a greater amount of wastage with the fish issue.53 The Japanese were informed that there was a significant discrepancy between the rations supplied and the minimum required to maintain health, and that this discrepancy had previously been bridged by the Red Cross supplies, now exhausted.54 After a relatively bountiful Christmas, a time that the POWs always managed to celebrate in some style, the New Year promised a continual decline in rations. In February 1943 the rice ration was reduced to just 15 oz per man.55 Lt. Lindsay Orr wrote: ‘getting nothing from Japs now except

September 1942–September 1943, part II 107 rice, little vegs and fish’.56 By March he reported that ‘food becoming very bad. Men catching snakes, dogs, cats, a monkey, birds and eating them. Also any yams and sweet potatoes they can get.’57 Staff Sergeant Burrey, despite his positive writing of a month before, noted that ‘our rice ration has been cut down . . . food is pretty poor and go to bed most nights with an empty feeling in my stomach’.58 Although Major Gillies thought that the ‘food position has now deteriorated to about the level of the early days’, he was willing to concede that these circumstances were less serious than then, saying that ‘it is only better than it was then by reason of our acquired knowledge of different ways to cook rice’.59 While this might appear to be only a small concession, it is important as early evidence of the way in which the men at Changi had begun to overcome difficulties and deficiencies through their own initiative and invention rather than just lobbying the Japanese for an improvement in conditions, a tactic they had discovered rarely proved successful. Although the rice issue may have become more palatable, the unpopular ‘rice polishings’ never became so. The order, in early February 1943, that the consumption of rice polishings was now compulsory had attached to it the necessary proviso that ‘rice polishings will be consumed on parade at which each man will take the medicine on the spot under supervision’.60 Another, similar, attempt to combat vitamin deficiencies was the attempted manufacture of a ‘grass extract’ from lalang grass that was to be used as a vitamin supplement.61 This, too, continued for a prolonged period, although the POWs, unsurprisingly, never developed much of a taste for it. Despite these best efforts, Lt. Orr still noticed the cumulative effects of poor diet becoming evermore apparent. He commented that ‘many young and middle aged men are going grey’.62 He continued: ‘the ration now consists of rice and a little cooking fat and 4oz of fish a week, and as it is practically impossible to buy anything in the way of food, the outlook is not good’.63 Major Gillies, however, was more fortunate than some, confessing to his diary: I have a small trunk of food put away, 4 tins of fish, 1 of bully and 2 of pineapple which I am keeping until the rainy day becomes a downpour! Won’t be long now either from the look of things. We don’t even get any salt now and haven’t been able to buy any for the last few days.64 Captain Ledingham’s diary entries convey similar concerns during this period. He considered that ‘hunger is my main complaint, that and sheer boredom and I’m sick of the sight of the other prisoners’.65 While all felt similarly about the inadequate diet, few were as fortunate as Major Gillies in having a reserve of food. Despite these anxieties, Private Sowter still that felt that life at Changi was bearable: ‘If only the food was good this would be a home from home. We actually have cinema shows (silent films) in the open air three or 4 nights a week.’66 Attempts to improve the health of their captives also came from the Japanese. They insisted that all POWs be inoculated against dysentery and typhoid. The Japanese also insisted upon the cremation of POWs who had died as a result of clinical dysentery and diphtheria.67 As a further preventative measure, the POW

108 September 1942–September 1943, part II medical authorities banned the playing of football due to the high number of fractures obtained as a result.68 Later in January 1943, boxing was also banned for similar reasons.69 Such traditional prisoner pastimes were thus found to be detrimental to the welfare of the men in their present, undernourished state, although few men appear to have complained about these new bans.

The receipt of mail and contact with home In December 1942 Captain Wilkinson considered the predicament of being a POW: I read a book called ‘Caged Birds’ by H.E. Harvey. It was all about his experiences as a POW during the last war in Germany. In lots of ways I think we seem to be better off than they were then. At least we have our men to look after and a number of regimental duties to perform. What they had, and what we of course miss very much is that we cannot send letters nor do receive any from home.70 This psychological prop, like the receipt of Red Cross goods, was neither a regular nor a frequent occurrence. Despite the irregularity, however, the reception, and to a lesser extent the sending of mail, was still a constant preoccupation for the men at Changi. Because of this, such mail that did arrive was anticipated even more keenly than might otherwise have been the case. The content of letters from home was therefore scrutinised closely, and because of their rarity value, and the distance in time and space, a great deal of store was held by what was said in this correspondence. Only in December 1942, ten months after the surrender, did the first news from home arrive at Changi. For Major Gillies, one of the fortunate few to receive mail, that first letter was of considerable significance: Well darling, yesterday was the long-awaited red-letter day! I got your letter dated 19/7/42 during the morning and have been cock-a-hoop ever since, to say nothing of being the object of envy of everyone else in the mess. The letters first began to come in a week ago but this is the first received in this mess, but of course we anticipate that they will keep trickling in now.71 Gillies’s reaction to his letter is highly instructive, as his concern about whether or not his wife knew of his fate is still obvious even after the innumerable reassurances that the POWs had been given, both by the Japanese and their own senior officers. After talking with a recently captured merchant seaman, deposited at Changi by the same German raider that sunk his vessel, Gillies was told that, when the sailor in question was last in the UK in July, there had been no word from any POWs captured at the fall of Singapore. Gillies had noted in his diary earlier in the month: ‘I hope it wasn’t too long after this [July] when you got the news [of his safety] – I am taking it for granted that you have had news – that I am still in the land.’72 Gillies also remarked on other information from this sailor:

September 1942–September 1943, part II 109 he has a couple of cousins in the Gordons [the Gordon Highlanders] who were serving here and had enquired for news of them, he was able to tell us that at that time, no news had been received at home as to casualties. However, apart from that he told us that . . . we are regarded as rather a poor lot out here.73 This interesting outside perception of the Singapore capitulation did not dismay Major Gillies unduly; his response was simply that ‘there is a good deal of truth in that of course, but it is a bit hard if the ordinary soldier is going to get blamed for this mess’.74 This is in contrast to many of Gillies’s previous comments about the surrender and, coming post-Selarang incident, is perhaps indicative of the degree to which the POWs, individually, were now putting the surrender behind them and instead focusing on the present. In his post-war report Lt.-Col. Galleghan commented that ‘receipt of mail was a big factor in maintaining morale. News summaries were complied and published from information of general interest received in letters.’75 These ‘summaries’ also provided a useful cover for news gathered via illegal radios. However, the nature of such ‘news’, received in letters addressed to individuals not known to be alive or dead by the sender, and devoid of the context in which they were written, was frequently a more equivocal proposition than the recipients had bargained for. After reading this particular letter Major Gillies was prompted to write a reply of sorts in his own ‘letter diary’: Also, who are the Cools and the Smiths K.G.? Brand new names to me and it is little comfort to know that K.G. has some marvellous stories! I hope you are behaving yourself with a modicum of propriety, my dear! Rather extraordinary that I don’t know who your friends are now!76 Gillies’s joy at hearing from home was tempered by the ambiguities that he felt to be present in his letter. The extent to which he was overly concerned may be seen when, just after Christmas, he received a second letter. This time his principal comment was that ‘I was almost lynched as there is only one other fellow in the mess who has one . . . naturally I was so pleased about it that I could almost have put up with a small piece of lynching.’77 Months later, in March 1943, Major Gillies wrote a reply to his wife via his diary: Incidentally why in hell don’t you get some larger sheets of notepaper if you can only use one?? Also lots of people are getting more than one sheet and photographs. You’ll have to be extra nice to me when I get back or I will have to beat the lights out of you for this, and for not using air mail and for not cabling more!78 Major Gillies’s aggressive response may have been coloured by the knowledge that he was soon to leave Changi for what would prove to be work on the railway. Captain Ledingham also received a letter and considered that it was ‘the happiest day yet of my captivity’, although Ledingham, too, thought that ‘I do not know if

110 September 1942–September 1943, part II they know I am alive from the letters, but our names would surely have got home by this time.’79 For the men at Changi the receipt of letters served a more subtle function than in traditional POW camps. The infrequency, coupled with the similar unpredictability concerning the sending of mail, meant that letters and postcards were ineffective and unreliable as a method of communication. Such letters that did arrive helped to reassert an identity and an independent existence, above and beyond that of POWs confined in an alien environment many miles from home. While the mail service was unreliable, in January 1943 the Japanese surprisingly gave permission for a limited number of prisoners to make radio broadcasts home. Although Major Thompson’s diary account noted that these messages were at first restricted to AIF troops only, some British POWs seem to have got around this restriction.80 Captain Horner recorded a message for broadcast: 3 Feb. Very excited, we are allowed to send wireless messages to Australia. I have cabled Uncle Harold at the Australian Broadcasting Commission ‘Feathers and I both fit and well, don’t worry, love to you, Frank and all at St. Albans’ – thereby overcoming the ban that no requests are to be made to forward information onto England.81 Horner’s comments suggest that the Japanese may have meant that it was messages to the United Kingdom that were restricted, rather than the nationality of those sending them. In a reversal of this situation, Major Gillies noted that ‘four people from the mess and a private were ordered to report to the Gaol [Changi gaol] where they were given messages which had been broadcast by their people and picked up either here or in Japan’.82 Despite the fact that two of the men selected turned out to be the wrong recipients, they kept quiet about this, and all were to return to the gaol where ‘presumably they were to broadcast themselves as the Japs. said they might arrange it for them’.83 In contrast to the availability of written mail, the sending and reception of wireless messages would increase in frequency as the years progressed. On 22 February 1943, the Japanese issued each man with another 24-word limit postcard. This was only the second occasion in 12 months that communication with home had been allowed.84 The allocation of these postcards came at a particularly fortuitous time as the one-year anniversary of the surrender of Singapore and of captivity had just passed. Major Shean wrote to his wife, saying, ‘fit, cheerful. Hope you are safe and happy and hope good news of our families and boys. Longing for mail and our reunion. Always your Rory.’85 While news from home was generally appreciated it inevitably prompted a melancholy assessment of the situation by some POWs. Before the second set of postcards were distributed, Captain Rogers speculated on how he and others tried to come to terms with being captives: At times the local anaesthetic which we diligently apply to our thoughts breaks down and we get severe spasms of wondering about home. How is

September 1942–September 1943, part II 111 everybody? We pray to God that they are all well and will be there to welcome us home. Have they the news that we are alive? What a worry that is to us. If we knew that, indeed most of our cares would slide from us.86 Only days later, after being issued with a postcard, Rogers made the following entry in his diary which suggested that his own application of the ‘local anaesthetic’ was indeed breaking down and that the issue of postcards was very much a double-edged sword. The realisation of the hopes for communication with home was something that prompted the POW to take stock of the present with a realistic reappraisal of his predicament: Despite my patience and faith, the last few days have dragged very heavily. How long will it be before we are out of this and reunited with our loved ones. Sometimes we see a vista of years stretching in front of us, and when we eventually reach our native land we will be shattered shells, with no life or ambition, broken in spirit, mind and body. What will our country be like when we get home? What will our people think of us? What conditions will we have to bear? It is hopeless for us to think of the future in terms like this. We all have moods of depression. They are impossible to avoid. But at times it is awfully hard to imagine ourselves as back in a normal world, with all or little comforts and our loving family and circle of friends, good food and drink, pleasures and entertainments. But despite our bad moods, at the bottom of all our minds there is the unshakeable belief that all will turn out well and once again we will be in our little niches in our own small world.87 Ironically, it would seem that the detachment of being a POW without any contact with home was in some sense preferable, in the short term at least. The beginning of March 1943 brought more good news for the POWs in the form of 6,000 wireless messages that were typed and then handed to the IJA for transmission.88 While this opportunity had already been offered to the AIF, some five months previously in November 1942, it had been declined at the time as it was felt to conflict with ‘AIF Standing Orders’. The reluctance to take up this offer was probably connected also to the Japanese taking photographs of POWs at Changi several days prior to the offer of broadcast facilities, the suspicion being that such broadcasts would be used as propaganda, especially as those areas of Changi chosen to be the subjects of these photographs were those that reflected ‘only the best conditions’.89 The departure from this position was justified, on the part of Lt.-Col. Galleghan, because of radio information received in the interim period that cast doubt on whether the official POW rolls detailing casualties from the fighting over a year previously had yet reached Australia.90 This fact – that is, the independently acquired knowledge and its origins (presumably via hidden wireless sets) – was obviously not divulged to the Japanese. The first batch of mail from Australia, as opposed to that from the UK, did not arrive in Changi until 4 March 1943.91 All of these distributed letters bore dates no more recent than from June, July and August 1942.92 Communication with the

112 September 1942–September 1943, part II outside world may be seen to have been irregular, but no less significant for those awaiting news from home. This infrequency placed a disproportional burden on mail that was received, and expectations were raised proportionally. Australian Warrant Officer Jack Kerr received three postcards from home: from his sister, brother and parents. Two cards had dates, 1 April 1944 and 10 October 1943, while the third was undated; all three, however, were essentially similar in content.93 The collective Australian response to letters from home was generally similar to that of the British. Staff Sergeant Burrey wrote: ‘best news I have heard today. 30,000 letters at Changi Gaol [to be distributed].’94 Several days later Burrey was even more pleased when he was informed ‘told there are seven letters for me. Oh boy!’95 Captain Rogers was similarly elated: Friday 26 Mar. 43. Jubilate Deo – yesterday I received two letters. One from Joyce and one from mum. Both dated late in June, a little later than the time we sent our first cards home. O Christ grant that they have received them by this. By my feelings yesterday, I have a faint idea of what their feelings will be when they get the news that we are safe. The first news from home for 15 months. It seems years at times and at others, but yesterday. Both letters were cheerful and bright and I think that they cover a great deal of heartache. But oh boy, they made me feel wonderful. Talk about a dog with two tails, he would not be in it . . . Joyce is doing her hair as I like it, and wearing blue because I like it. God I am lucky. Then mum tells me of sitting in front of a big fire, and playing cards. When will we share those luxuries with our loved ones. Surely it cannot be much longer?96 The arrival of letters from home still had a depressive effect, as Col. Shorland noted: 25 March 1943. No different from any other day. We may have gardening, or a visit to fetch wood, or reading on other days, but they pass fairly quickly. If only one knew just how long this war was going on it would not be so bad. Lately there has been rather a wave of depression as to our sojourn here. I am still budgeting ahead two years. I don’t want to clock up thirty-six out here. We try not to think too much about the length of our captivity, but it is always the thought uppermost in all minds. These letters from home have woken us all up to our awful position. In Germany or Italy prisoners do at least get mail of all sorts, and the food can’t be worse.97 In September 1943 Changi began a type of communication with the outside world of a somewhat different nature when the outside broadcast of an AIF concert was arranged with the Japanese.98 This broadcast served to highlight some of the differences apparent between the British and Australian elements at Changi. The broadcast was, according to Major Shean, ‘arranged by the AIF themselves and post facto sanction obtained from EB Holmes with the result that some people are rather “anti” this apparent unilateral action’. Shean continued that:

September 1942–September 1943, part II 113 I regret this is rather typical but, honestly, we command the camp in such a weak manner that I hardly blame anyone for taking advantage of the fact. The AIF when it suits them say ‘we can’t do this or we will do that’ because we’re responsible to the Australian Govt. What we ought to say is first and foremost we’re responsible to the British government and the War Office and if you don’t like it you can take the matter up after the war but for the time being get on with it and don’t bloody well argue!99 Lt.-Col. Holmes made the following comments about these broadcasts: the Australian Imperial Forces concert party recorded broadcasts for the Imperial Japanese Army. This was done after considerable deliberation in order to send names of POWs to the outside world. No propaganda was attempted by the Japanese. Playbacks of the recordings were heard, and when the programme was subsequently picked up on air, it was in no way altered.100 When Lt.-Col. Galleghan became head of the AIF in Changi he made clear in his initial conference that ‘The Commander [AIF] will hold himself primarily responsible to the Commonwealth of Australia and not to Malaya Command if the latter conflicts with the former.’101 Despite Major Shean’s protestations this action appeared to have been regarded as relatively innocuous, by Lt.-Col. Holmes at least. This time at Changi was no more life threatening than the previous eight months. The hardships that the POWs suffered, while different in emphasis, were ultimately not the worst they were obliged to endure. Food shortages, for example, became far more marked towards the end of the war, in 1944 and 1945, and those who succumbed to malnutrition or disease did so as a result of a cumulative undernourishment rather than a sudden drop in ration quality or quantity. Similarly, the POWs had a great deal to be grateful for during this time; mail from loved ones finally arrived, thus satisfying one of their most important, felt needs and, importantly, meagre rations were supplemented with additional Red Cross parcels. Cumulatively, it may be seen that the POW community became significantly more focused upon life as a captive formation. Contact with home, while appreciated, served to remind the POWs of the fact of their captivity and interfered with the necessary adjustment to life as a prisoner, rather than as a soldier held as a POW. This gradual adjustment and the positive attitudes that it engendered would prove to be important as conditions worsened appreciably.

Japanese/POW interactions As new troops arrived at Changi and found themselves obliged to conform to the standards and routines of the established POW community, so too was their existence shaped by expressly Japanese requirements. After the events of Selarang, the relationship between captor and captive had begun to evolve. Japanese indifference, so evident in the early months, and largely due to the practical problems of

114 September 1942–September 1943, part II administering such a considerable force, was now replaced by a keener interest in the everyday activities of the POWs. One particular and insistent demand was that all officers be saluted. This was passed on to the POWs via Malaya Command, which reiterated the need to salute the Japanese and to be continually vigilant so as to avoid ‘incidents’. One such incident was the failure to salute Maj.-Gen. Fukuye’s car due to ‘the awkward location of the [POW] party, to which the car could approach to [sic] a short distance before being observed’. This apparently reasonable explanation was ‘not acceptable to the IJA’.102 The adherence to such Japanese instructions was not easy for many POWs. They were encouraged, indirectly, to comply with Japanese wishes by the knowledge that ‘a repetition of such incidents [as detailed above] seriously hampers all efforts of the Comd. British and Australian troops to obtain better treatment for all POWs’.103 This method of ensuring compliance with Japanese directions was a subtler one than traditional army methods and was practised on other occasions also. The extent to which this idea originated with the Japanese or the British authorities is unclear, although there is evidence of a developing attitude of giveand-take in POW/Japanese relations. The Japanese did appear to try and change their tactics towards their captives, on occasion. The long-standing grievances over the conduct of ‘renegade’ Indian guards, something that the POWs had found so objectionable, were partly solved by the Japanese themselves instructing the guards to cease their ‘violent behaviour towards prisoners’. This in itself was a significant action and appeared to suggest a modicum of respect for the POWs on the part of their captors. Lt.-Col. Holmes, aware of the significance of this action, responded by saying that it was ‘particularly desirous that all POWs show their appreciation of this action’ by paying compliments in ‘a correct and smart manner’.104 In a similar vein, the IJA required the POWs to send two officers to offer their ‘congratulations’ on the occasion of the promotion of Lt.-Gen. Fukuye. The British authorities took this request seriously and circulated a list of the required dress to be worn by each officer. Lt.-Col. Holmes himself represented Head Quarters Malaya Command.105 This brief period of mutual ‘respect’ did not stop the Japanese from prohibiting the popular POW practice of singing while marching along the main Changi road.106 The British authorities walked a fine line at Changi, balancing the demands of administering the POW population with the requirements of the Japanese. Holmes and Galleghan were aware that consistent or serious transgressions on the part of individual POWs made them liable to punishment by the Japanese, a fate generally to be avoided, and also the threat that any apparent inability on the part of the POW authorities to maintain control obviously invited greater Japanese interference in POW matters generally. For example, when some men were found to be using the opportunity afforded by salt-water parties, the only source of salt at Changi, POW officers were instructed to accompany these parties in an attempt to try and stop this. The men engaged in salt-water party duties were also warned that they should not go swimming on any account and that local guards who permitted such activities were exceeding their authority in doing so. Persistent offending might

September 1942–September 1943, part II 115 lead to the withdrawal of the salt-water privilege, with its consequent impact on health, as one of the conditions of the granting of permission to gather salt water was that swimming must on no account take place.107 Major Shean was unconvinced by Holmes’s leadership and considered that these alleged inadequacies were responsible for a number of ongoing problems: we never put up a brave face against the Nips or even against the filthy rackets which go on amongst our own officers and men. To think that people in the camp are trading away valuable drugs and scientific instruments to the Japs!108 The problems of what was euphemistically termed ‘trading’ during this period seemed intractable. The fact that this was so illustrates still further the tensions at work amongst the POW community itself. Five AIF ‘Routine Orders’ were issued between February and September 1943, all forbidding the trading of irreplaceable items, such as drugs, as well as detailing ‘approved’ items deemed fit to trade. The Routine Order of 25 July 1943 contained the following paragraphs: No. 176 – TRADING AND COMMUNICATION WITH IJA SOLDIERS and ASIATICS. 2.

Recent breaches and suspected breaches of these orders, particularly in regard to trading in such articles as drug, medical equipment and blankets, render it necessary to add the following new order:

3.

Any officer or soldier who speaks to or has any contact or dealing with members of the IJA or Asiatics may be called upon to account for such conduct. Such speech conduct or dealing shall be deemed to be an offence unless the officer or soldier concerned acted in the course of his duty, the onus of proof whereof shall be upon the accused.109

Concerns over the loss of precious and practically irreplaceable commodities through outside trading were widespread. At the end of the month Captain Rogers noted that: There has been no small amount of panic in our own AIF circles. It appears that the black market has been operating again and men have been caught in possession of medical stores and other saleable commodities – saleable beyond the wire, I mean, and there has been a big effort to clear this up. Some of these rotten swine have been selling drugs and clothing to the IJA and for a couple of nights there have been patrols out and there has been great rushing around of the rival gangs, all in the Oppenheim [sic] style. Two thorough kit inspections were turned on in rapid succession and a couple of blokes are now in the cooler. All the more valuable stuff is locked up individually while there is always someone on duty in the store.110

116 September 1942–September 1943, part II In an apparent attempt to restrict access to areas containing vital equipment and stores, various instructions regarding the perimeter wire were reiterated in July to the effect that: except when it is unavoidable in the course of duty, no officer or soldier shall approach within thirty (30) yards of the AIF Camp and Hospital perimeter wire between the hours of 2000 and 0800.111 The attitude to ‘trading’ was a serious one. The POWs were officially prohibited from ‘buying, selling, barter and exchange’ of goods of ‘any description’ without the explicit authority of a Company Commander or higher authority.112 As far as items such as ‘medicine, drugs, medical supplies or equipment’ were concerned, however, these were not to be traded at all. In November 1942, a month after going to considerable lengths to secure ‘noescape’ promises from their captives, the Japanese announced the adoption of that most traditional element of POW camp life – the roll call parade, something that had hitherto been absent. To guard against any manipulation or falsification of the number of men at Changi, all ranks were to be checked directly by an IJA representative, one of the few occasions when the Japanese were involved directly in POW activities at Changi.113 The roll calls occurred twice daily, at 13.15 hrs and 20.00 hrs, and all ranks were instructed to be present with ‘no exceptions save in the case of personnel sick in quarters’.114 All ranks were advised that failure to attend these parades would result in the Japanese assuming that the individual concerned was attempting to escape and that ‘experience has proved that explanation[s] will not be accepted by the IJA’.115 In September Major Gillies had experienced an early Japanese attempt to institute some form of check parade: Yesterday we had a check roll call parade by the Japs which lasted all morning. I was check officer for the dysentery wing and was exhausted by the time it was finished – and bloody fed up too. In the early days of our captivity we used to say that the Jap beat us in the campaign because their organisation was better than ours. Since then I fear that we have seen enough of them to realise that they are, if possible, more inept than the British Army in this respect. Yesterday was about their best effort I should think. It would have been the easiest thing in the world to have covered the absence of anything up to fifty people in this part of the hospital alone.116 The significance of these parades appears to go beyond the simple act of counting heads and was a substantive reminder to the POWs of Japanese authority. James Scott’s work is applicable here and, as Scott suggests, ‘the political symbolism of most forms of personal domination carries with it the implicit assumption that subordinates gather only when they are authorised to do so’.117 The tiresome parades served to underline the Japanese position of power and authority at Changi. The fact that they were felt to be needed at all, however, is also illustrative of the perceptible independence being exhibited by the prisoners.

September 1942–September 1943, part II 117 The POWs were warned once again about ‘unauthorised movement’ beyond the camp boundaries and that the Japanese always ‘construed [this] as an attempt to escape, and offenders are liable to be shot’.118 This ‘movement’ was despite the frequent repairs carried out to the wire boundary fence and despite regular exhortations from POW officers and the Japanese. These warnings may be interpreted in one of two ways: firstly, that the Japanese now believed escape was more likely than it had been, even though there had been no change to make an escape attempt any more likely to be successful; secondly, that the Japanese themselves had changed their view of the POWs in the aftermath of Selarang. Selarang was the only really significant incident that had occurred since the capitulation and, ironically, one that occurred over whether or not the POWs should promise not to escape. Renewed Japanese instructions over escape seemed only to emphasise the futility of the whole episode as the Japanese were, apparently, now more concerned over ‘absenteeism’ than before they had extracted the promise not to abscond. It seems unlikely that a new-found respect, by the captor for the captive, was the cause, but rather that the Japanese felt the need to reassert their authority; the involved medium of a camp-wide roll call parade was a suitable way to do this. Whatever the real motives, the introduction of roll call parades probably did not give the POWs any sense of victory, as the requirement to parade was only ever an intrusive one. The fact that the Japanese were always in the background at Changi complicated the relationship between captor and captive. It meant that it was increasingly easy to transgress, and the absence of an enforced discipline, watch towers and clearly restricted inaccessible areas threw more emphasis onto individual responsibility. Even so, the main body of POWs were frequently reminded of the potential results of their activities, irrespective of how innocuous they appeared. Men discovered climbing on buildings in the easternmost area of Changi, to catch a glimpse of the sea, were warned that doing so ‘will only lead to trouble with the IJA if it is discovered and will accordingly be discontinued’.119 The Japanese methods, when overt, varied between brutal and direct (as at Selarang), and subtle – but dangerous in their ambiguity. The strict adherence to POW rules and regulations was an insurance against what Galleghan termed the ‘illogical temper and brutality of the Japanese’.120 In August 1943 the IJA produced an order that was to be ‘strictly observed’. It read: ‘Behaviours of the war-prisoners have become, it is seen, not so good these days. We want you to warn them to be more polite, especially to make accurate salute, in the room.’ While the practical impact was lessened slightly by the humorous effect that the wording provoked, its seriousness may be gauged by the response of the POW authorities who issued additional orders to tighten up the response to Japanese personnel and, in particular, to IJA officers.121 Fundamentally, much of the adherence to Japanese instructions was grounded in the uncertainty of the response and the knowledge that the situation at Changi may well have been worse than it was. On New Year’s Eve 1942 Captain Wilkinson was surprised to see large groups of other ranks parading around Changi ‘singing and creating a terrific din’, despite Japanese instructions that lights out would be

118 September 1942–September 1943, part II at 22.45 hrs. While Wilkinson and his fellow officers realised that they would likely be unable to persuade the men from abandoning their merry-making, he also witnessed ‘three Jap. patrols’ who were ‘dumbstruck with all the noise and by 0100hrs they were trying frantically to make the men understand that lights should be out and it was time to go to bed’.122 The Japanese, as far as this incident was concerned at least, were apparently powerless to act, as ‘no-one took the slightest notice of them and their frantic efforts had no effect’. Obviously, the Japanese guards mentioned in this incident could have resorted to using their weapons and establishing order in that way, although this brief account does not exclude the possibility that they were heavily outnumbered. Crucially, however, the POWs, whether fortified by alcohol or not, did not respond to traditional forms of authority – namely, a direct instruction by a Japanese soldier. This resistance to all but force is suggestive of a change in captor–captive relations and indicative of a resurgence in the confidence of the POWs themselves. Changi camp changed enormously between September 1942 and September 1943. Just as Changi contracted physically, it expanded in terms of the ambition and confidence of its captive population. While the Japanese, in pursuit of their own unrelated goals, unwittingly broke down many of the outward signs of continuity and community they also provided the impetus for the POWs to reinvent themselves as prisoners. This was important as it enabled them to face the future with a new sense of vitality and confidence, and this reorientation was necessary to survive the difficulties ahead and needed to happen before conditions deteriorated appreciably. The Selarang barrack square incident that preceded this period was in some sense a rite of passage as the soldiers of the Singapore surrender laid to rest the ghosts of that humiliation. They were therefore now ready to adopt a new identity – this time as prisoners, but crucially prisoners who, while bowed on occasion, never considered themselves to be broken. The impact of this on POW/IJA relations may be perceived in the Japanese response to these gradual changes in POW behaviour, as the Japanese also realised that the POWs at Changi no longer saw themselves as broken men. It was this realisation that may well have prompted the progressive Japanese restrictions. The benefits accrued in this period, both physical and mental, would be tested in the ensuing months.

Plate 1 Location of the Changi POW camp and gaol, Singapore.

Plate 2 Lt.-Gen. A.E. Percival, GOC Malaya, the man on whom blame for the surrender largely fell. Courtesy of the Imperial War Museum. Ref K1261.

Plate 3 Confident British troops, attired for a traditional colonial war, arrive at Singapore in 1941. Courtesy of the Imperial War Museum. Ref FE312.

Plate 4 Accommodation buildings in the elaborate and extensive Changi complex, before the outbreak of hostilities. Courtesy of the Imperial War Museum. Ref FE433.

Plate 5 British officers signing ‘no-escape’ declaration forms during the Selarang barrack square incident. Courtesy of the Imperial War Museum. Ref HU32013.

Plate 6 The Selarang barrack square incident: the crowded parade is captured well in this grainy photograph with latrines in the foreground and one of the barrack blocks behind. Courtesy of the Imperial War Museum. Ref HU32016.

Plate 7 Two POWs fortunate enough to find space within barrack buildings. Courtesy of the Imperial War Museum. Ref HU3292.

Plate 8 Emaciated POWs at Changi in the last days of the war. Courtesy of the Imperial War Museum. Ref SE4786.

Plate 9 POWs from the Manchester Regiment looking comparatively fit some weeks after the Japanese surrender. Courtesy of the Imperial War Museum. Ref MH34173.

Plate 10 Roles reversed: Japanese POWs labour under the watchful eye of recently released Allied POWs. Courtesy of the Imperial War Museum. Ref SE4874.

Plate 11 The Japanese surrender formalities in Singapore, September 1945. Courtesy of the Imperial War Museum. Ref SE4706.

Plate 12 Some of the lucky few POWs to leave Changi by air: most went by sea. Courtesy of the Imperial War Museum. Ref CF728.

Plate 13 A selection of programme covers from the various theatres at Changi.

7

Return from the railway: September 1943–May 1944

By the end of September 1943, the number of men at Changi stood at just 5,332.1 Much had changed with the departure of men overseas and many of the comforts and diversions contingent on a large POW population had vanished as a result. There were also compensations; fewer men obviously meant that resources went further, in the short term at least. Much had been achieved to make life more palatable, both at the behest of the Japanese and as a result of the POWs’ own initiatives. From September 1943 to May 1944, however, the war would revisit Changi and sweep away many of the assumptions and securities that had grown up since February 1942. Life would become harder for those at Changi and for those who had been fortunate to avoid moving overseas on working parties. The reality of being a POW of the Japanese would be brought home by the return of the ‘upcountry’ parties. These men, the fortunate survivors of the railway, had endured conditions which went beyond anything at Changi. Their return demonstrated what their captors were capable of and swiftly banished any complacency in POW/ IJA relations. The experiences of these men put life at Changi firmly into context. In tandem with these visible demonstrations of the extremes of Japanese behaviour came an increasingly forceful edge to Japanese authority at Changi and with it a large-scale engineering project which, while not as brutal as the railway, was equally ambitious and had a similar effect on Changi. The construction of the aerodrome would define the remaining months of the war. No longer would men be free to attend time-consuming lectures during the day, as every available man was pressed into work. Despite this, the POWs continued to hold lecture courses, which, while popular, were less frequent than before, this being due as much to the restricted room for classrooms.2 As ever, the behaviour of the Japanese during this time was unpredictable.

The aerodrome construction The first indication of a dramatic change at Changi came on 18 September 1943 when the IJA announced that, with effect from this date, there would in future be a large working party of 910 officers and ORs required for what was euphemistically termed ‘ground levelling work’. This working party would continue until

120 Return from the railway: 1943–4 the last days of the war and would absorb large numbers of men. The duties were to be divided into heavy, light and very light, therefore maximising the number of POWs that could be drawn from the pool of men still at Changi, only a small proportion of whom were comparatively fit and healthy. Lt.-Col. Holmes ‘strongly protested’ at the numbers required but, unlike on other occasions, this had no effect whatsoever. The ‘ground levelling party’ was to be commanded by Lt.-Col. D’Arbus, a Royal Artillery officer, and would work from 09.30–12.30 hours, then break for dinner, and then work from 14.00–17.00 hours. This group were to be allowed Fridays off.3 The ‘ground levelling’ would in fact prove to be the construction of an aerodrome to be used for military purposes, and thus in direct contravention of the Geneva Convention. Despite this, the work held other more pressing concerns for the POWs. The ground levelling party, in contrast to other jobs undertaken by POW labour in Singapore, such as loading ships in the docks where enterprising POWs had taken every opportunity to pilfer goods, had no discernible fringe benefits. Its impact was wholly negative and cumulative as rations decreased with time. The one possible exception was the thriving black market that developed on the ‘drome’, as it became known amongst the POWs. The IJA agreed to provide what they termed ‘heavy duty rations’ to the ground levelling party with effect from 22 September 1943.4 The ground levelling party themselves submitted a request to the IJA that they be supplied with straw sun hats and also sunglasses.5 At the same time the Japanese made a curious counter request and asked for a list of all officers not in possession of either a ring or a watch.6 The Japanese response to these requests is illustrative of their increasingly unpredictable behaviour. Only six days later, 20 wrist and pocket watches were delivered to Changi. A few days later still, there was a surprise delivery of 300 sun hats for use on the ’drome.7

The return of the ‘up-country’ parties Towards the end of October, Captain Rogers, a conscientious diarist throughout the war, reflected on life in the camp. His comments unconsciously cover this curious stage of captivity at Changi: the point when POW life moved from being comparatively relaxed and unfettered by overt Japanese direction, to a more restricted, regimented existence dominated by a shortage of rations and medical supplies. Rogers’s first entry still focuses on the ‘idyll’ of Changi, and features the type of ‘myth’-making content that had been apparent in so many diary accounts from February 1942: when you are reading this it must seem strange to you – PsOW [sic] and yet leading a life that they could not afford at home. Plenty of sunshine and sunbathing, concerts, plenty of sport, good cards and books. What is the matter with these people you will say, they have never been better off in their lives? And I would be forced to agree with you if it were not for one or two little things which I will leave you to guess. It is a paradox but with nothing but time on my hands, I still do not seem to get time to do all that I want to.8

Return from the railway: 1943–4 121 Rogers was also aware that the progressive decline in health standards was becoming more apparent and that the nature of captivity, too, had begun to exert a negative influence: Some of the chaps here seem to be altering considerably. Park [who had served as Rogers’s batman], for instance has become terribly slow both physically and mentally; others are full of their own pride and importance and have become very smug and self satisfied. Providing that I can still notice these things I must make sure that I do not fall into the same errors. I take time off to look at myself occasionally and try to correct the more obvious faults. My present besetting sin seems to be laziness, although I tell myself that I am not being lazy, and that there is very little for me to do, and we are all going to be very busy. But whether this is a sufficient sop to my conscience I can never really be sure. The test will come when we have to start work again, and I feel reasonably confident that I will be able to pass the test.9 Rogers was obviously aware of the predicament faced by all at Changi, and able to identify its impact as well as be prepared to counter it. He was not alone in discerning that POW life was having a subtle yet insidious effect. Lt. Orr was also feeling similarly pensive, but attempted to dismiss his feelings with more positive thoughts about the future: ‘I seem to be continually dreaming and thinking of what I can do after this war. I want a business of my own and wish to see the world and to enter politics. This life as a POW teaches a man the essential things in life.’10 The many facets of life at Changi, both positive and negative, would be thrown into sharp focus with the gradual return of the men from the railway. This event, prolonged over a period of months, gave form and substance to the experience of captivity at Changi. It was a substance that few would have chosen, however. The departure of so many men, for the railway and elsewhere, had had a profound effect on Changi. POWs had been separated from long-standing friends, often pre-war comrades, and the process of deciding exactly who should stay and who should go had prompted anger and disharmony in the POW community. The return of large numbers of POWs from overseas working parties, after many weeks of rumour and speculation about their fate, was therefore awaited with some trepidation, and the ‘grim experiences of the two main forces sent to Thailand . . . would prove to be the outstanding event of 1943’, according to Lt.-Col. Holmes.11 In early November 1943, Lt. Tanaka visited the Garden and Wood area of Changi with a view to preparing it for the reception of the returning ‘up-country’ parties. The Japanese had asked the POW authorities for detailed reports on what materials were required to repair each building and thus bring them up to a reasonable standard.12 This action in itself put the POWs on their guard, accustomed as they were to the frequent Japanese inability to secure such material after persistent requests. The sudden Japanese acquiescence, not to mention their initiative in repairing buildings without the impetus of repeated requests over long-standing requirements, was suspicious. Even stranger was the Japanese insistence, from

122 Return from the railway: 1943–4 early November, that a large POW working party be employed to construct ten new huts to provide accommodation for the men of H Force and F Force who were to return from 21 November 1943. The Japanese sanctioned the employment of 50 ORs and two officers for this task, diverting men who were currently employed on the aerodrome construction unit, the project that was considered to be the ‘no. 1 priority’ at Changi. The building of the new huts was obviously of some importance and the POWs detailed to build them were to work between 09.30–13.00 and 15.00–18.00 daily, with Friday as a holiday.13 Intriguingly these hours are slightly in excess of the previously promulgated hours of work for the aerodrome construction parties and perhaps give an indication of the degree of priority which the Japanese afforded this new project. The motives behind this apparent Japanese willingness to improve conditions for the returning troops were soon obvious. Changi was ‘warned to expect heavy casualties’ amongst the first party of F Force to arrive at Changi, numbering some 500 men under Lt.-Col. Kappe.14 Major Shean, along with most of the POWs at Changi, was familiar with all the rumours that had circulated in connection with the conditions on the railway. Shean was under no illusions about what he expected the true state of these men to be by the time of their eventual return. After the arrival of the first groups, Shean wrote: It’s quite obvious that H and F forces have been through unbelievable hell. [Japanese lieutenants] Tanaka and Tagumi were down to see the party arrive and I gather were obviously horrified and embarrassed by the condition of the men. I’m not surprised as T and T have always appeared very sympathetic and quite reasonable.15 Shean thought that ‘all the IJA appear to realise what a bad show it all is and are anxious to make amends’.16 These two officers, as will be seen, were generally considered to be relatively ‘decent’ in their treatment of prisoners. How much the initiative to improve conditions for the returning men was at their instigation, however, is unclear. The Japanese now announced that the Garden and Wood area (G&W) was to be placed out of bounds to the rest of the camp, partially because of genuine health considerations and possibly because the poor physical condition of these troops would be detrimental to POW morale. In order to make the area reasonably habitable it proved necessary to utilise light bulbs, in short supply in Singapore by this time, from other areas at Changi so as to provide a minimum of lighting in the G&W area. Despite their apparent desire to help out in as many ways as possible, a supply of additional light bulbs from the IJA ‘was not forthcoming’. On 17 December, Lt. Tanaka informed HQMC that five further ‘down-country’ parties comprising 560 men each, would arrive in Singapore, probably within the next few days. Of these groups, one would go to a camp in Singapore.17 The extent to which the men who left only months earlier had suffered was by now widespread among those at Changi. Captain Rogers was horrified by the stories of what had occurred on the railway:

Return from the railway: 1943–4 123 Almost impossible, considering our situation to write of what has happened and what we have learned in the past few days. As predicted some months ago ‘F’ force has returned from Burma and what they have suffered and gone through is indescribable. Out of the total of 7000 leaving here 3000 have perished . . . I can say nothing here but a story like this will keep, I should think, for as long as there is history.18 Rogers obviously thought that the Japanese were reluctant for too much information about the fate of the railway workers to be disclosed, and this, too, goes some way to explain the Japanese efforts to minimise the impact of their return. The practice of keeping these troops in isolation had ended by 15 January 1944.19 Despite this, there was still concern at the possible spread of malaria from these troops, as well as from the discovery of substantial mosquito breeding on the aerodrome. All POWs were therefore instructed to utilise what mosquito nets were still available, as well as those ‘in possession of long trousers and long sleeved shirts’ being encouraged to ‘wear them after sunset’.20 The reintegration of such large parties of men from the ‘down-country’ parties into the main POW body at Changi continued into January 1944.21 Glenleigh Skewes 2/13 AGH, had served with F Force and was one of the first to arrive back at Changi in December. His diary recorded the return to Changi and the strange effect that it had on him and his fellow returnees: The scenery of green pasture and picturesque tiled-roof cottages and flats was new and fascinating to our eyes . . . But we were timid and now many, or most, suffering from reaction. We felt not the men who left this place only 7 months before. And as many folks of Changi said, ‘the men of F Force who returned walked about with a haunted look – even as frightened creatures.’ I heard the C.O. of the hospital, Col. Summins [sic], tell all the men on parade one day that these men now arriving back to Changi had been through The Valley of the Shadow of Death.22 Captain Wilkinson had also left Singapore, in April 1943. He arrived back in late December and made the following entry in his diary: 1 January 1944. I am now back in Changi, Singapore. We are living in wooden huts in the old garden and woods area. When we first arrived here we were mixed up with all sorts of units including Australians just as we came down country in truckloads as part of ‘F’ force. But now we are spirited and we are in what is known as G&W British battalion . . . Our strength on paper is roughly 800 but nearly 300 of the men are in the main Selarang hospital or in the Malaria hospital within the camp. We are undergoing a period of isolation as we brought a few cases of smallpox with us from up-country.23 Wilkinson found life back at Changi strange initially, although he was pleased to note that there was plenty of kit and food for the new arrivals, ‘we have had quite

124 Return from the railway: 1943–4 large quantities of clothing and boots issued to us and gradually the men are getting back to normal human beings again.’ A month later, Wilkinson’s diary was again reflecting a comparatively genteel existence and his reintroduction to life at Changi was pleasant. It did not take him long to readjust, and his diary began once again to reflect an existence that belied the reality of being a prisoner in a POW camp: Each Wednesday and Sunday are guest nights in the mess. I have only had one guest. He was an American airman who was brought down in Burma last September called 1st Lt. Jensen. He was a most interesting bloke to talk to. We also have an ‘at home’ each Sunday morning when we ask someone in for ‘tea and a bun.’ It is quite fun and passes the time away . . . Everyday except Wednesdays we are allowed to go bathing in the sea, but as mornings are my busiest time I have not been able to go so far.24 While those who had been fortunate to return had much to be grateful for – and when compared to the railway anything that Changi could offer was preferable – for those who had remained in Changi the impact of the returning groups was more significant. Captain Rogers had had a good Christmas Day for 1943, but then found Boxing Day depressing. The thought of those men recently returned from the railway helped to put his grievances into perspective and made him grateful for what he did have: Once again Christmas has come and gone. Yesterday was more or less bearable, made so by thoughts of home and loved ones, and visiting those of my friends who are still left. But today has been awful. An empty husk of a day, a day that seems to have no place in time . . . possibly it is aggravated by the fact that I am still not sleeping, the last three nights especially. Then of course the sight of these poor devils coming back from the North: dirty skeletons they are dressed in filthy rags, the hardships they have suffered stamped indelibly on their minds. Most of those who have been lucky enough to get back – ‘Home to Changi’ – they say, have probably had at least ten years taken from their lives.25 Staff Sergeant Burrey also returned to Changi after eight months on the railway. He, too, was similarly relieved to be back, noting: ‘[we] arrived at Singapore just before midnight. Better trip than when we went up . . . Taken by truck out to . . . Changi. A marvellous feeling to be back again after 8 months of HELL [diarist’s capitals].’26 The diary of an anonymous Australian officer at Changi had this to say: on Dec. 17th 1943, almost without warning, ‘F’ Force began to arrive back from Thailand and Burma at about the rate of 600 per day, bringing with them a very big percentage of sick men and a pretty harrowing story of the doings up north; several new wards had to be opened up and I was taken off the eye clinic to run a ward of 130 beds – mainly malaries [sic], beri beri and general

Return from the railway: 1943–4 125 debility. It was hard work while it lasted but for once everyone in the hospital was busy. F force had consisted of 7000 men approximately 3500 British and 3500 Australians and left Changi in April 1943. ‘H’ Force of about 3000 odd men left shortly after, and several Dutch parties left about the same time. They were told at this end that they were going to better camps, better conditions and better food; that they were not a working party and that they would not have to march. As regards some of these points I believe the Japanese authorities at the Changi end were definitely misled, but the whole thing was a bungle from start to finish.27 The railway, although many miles away in Thailand and Burma, exerted a considerable impact on Changi. Firstly, as we have seen, its construction had stripped the camp of the fittest men and returned them, far fewer in number, physically and mentally weakened by their experiences. Secondly, the return of these men, no longer as strong or fit, put an enormous strain on the already depleted manpower resources of the camp as even greater numbers of men were hospitalised and fewer and fewer fit POWs were available to support the extensive needs and wants of their incapacitated comrades. In addition to these practical considerations, the experiences of the railway gave a timely lesson to those who had remained at Changi. However many elaborate theatrical productions they created, however many ingenious solutions to apparently insurmountable problems they devised, however many times they scored a moot point over the Japanese, at the end of the day the men at Changi were prisoners. While this did not destroy the will to resist the Japanese, it did at least serve to put life at Changi into perspective. The experience of the railway also emphasised the levels to which the Japanese were prepared to go to get their own way. The early months at Changi, when POW narratives were full of comments to the effect that ‘the Japanese are not as bad as we had been led to believe’, were conclusively destroyed. After the experience of the railway the POWs were obliged to realise how comfortable life at Changi had been to date, as well as how bad things could potentially become. After the railway, nothing could be taken for granted and any feelings of security, tenuous though they may have been, were revealed as being misplaced. In the winter of 1943/4 the experience of captivity was still as uncertain a prospect as it had been in February 1942, and the Japanese just as alien and unpredictable. However, despite the inequity of the struggle between captor and captive, it did not prevent the POWs from continuing to engage in subtle forms of resistance to Japanese hegemony at Changi and, more specifically, to the assumptions that governed their lives as captives. On 11 January 1944, in the midst of the returns of men from the railway, the AIF Routine Order featured the following announcement: No. 230 – ENGINEERING STUDENTSHIP: The sum of £A.500 has been made available by an anonymous donor with the object of setting up a studentship in Structural Engineering. The benefits of this studentship will be

126 Return from the railway: 1943–4 made available after the war to selected members of the AIF Malaya, on their return to Australia. Selection of candidates will be made in this camp by a committee in accordance with certain conditions. Copies of the prospectus and conditions of award may be seen at AIF Education Centre and at “e” Gp H.Q. Entries close on 20 Jan. 44.28 This notice has a surreal quality about it. It presumes that all or most of the POWs will survive the war and return home. It also promises a considerable sum of money, and the whole tone makes no allowance either for the war or the Japanese, or even for the recent events at Changi. By its very existence the scholarship asserts a determined independence, an independence that belies not only the Japanese ability to confine or to starve their captives, but also that of the concept of life in a POW camp. Whether the engineering scholarship was actually awarded is not known. AIF Routine Order No. 231, issued on the same day, illuminates the ongoing struggle at Changi, understated and underemphasised as it was. This instruction detailed a Japanese order that in future the ‘name G&W will cease to be used and that this area will be known as No.2 Area’.29 The insubstantial nature of this second instruction is exaggerated by the first and lends weight to the suspicion that many Japanese orders were issued simply to demonstrate where the real authority at Changi lay and to undermine the apparently unshakeable confidence the POWs continually demonstrated. In the same vein are the exhaustive instructions issued concerning smoking: 15 September 1943. No.198 – FIRE PRECAUTIONS – SMOKING: I. The IJA have issued the following orders – (1) Smoking inside storehouses (clothes and food), workshops (include clothes repairing workshops) is prohibited. (2) Smoking on or in beds is prohibited. (3) Smoking whilst walking in the camp area is prohibited. (4) Smoking rooms or places should be set up near soldiers’ rooms, patients’ rooms, storehouses, workshops etc. (5) Petrol must be kept in a safestore and an offr be appointed to take charge of same. Individuals will NOT be allowed to possess petrol however small the quantity. II. Pursuant to Para (4) above appropriate rooms and/ or areas will be set aside and provided with notices to the effect that smoking in such places is permitted.30 The IJA also ordered a furniture census, with all records to be completed in detail and posted on individual building walls. Any surplus furniture was to be handed over to the IJA.31 For the men who had experienced the railway, there had been little to sustain them in Burma and Thailand other than hopes of an eventual end to the war and a

Return from the railway: 1943–4 127 return to their loved ones. These dreams had seemed even more distant and remote on the railway than in Singapore. The most realistic, short-term, goal that most POWs could aspire to was a return to Singapore and to Changi. For many men, Changi was not only a tangible and realistic physical refuge but also a psychological one as well. The knowledge that captivity and life as a POW did not comprise only the desperate conditions of the railway camps offered hope to men who daily faced a struggle against the effects of hard labour, slow starvation, inadequate medical care and random brutality. While dreams of home were a necessary staple of those confined at Changi, for many on the railway it was Changi itself that was the principal aspiration. A return to Changi was in fact far more probable than a return home, and Changi itself was, in the imagination and recent memory, still replete with positive associations. Changi was the place, after all, of theatres and education classes, and even of the morale boosting events of Selarang when the Japanese had been ‘bested’. If nothing else the actual return to Changi was sufficient to convince them that they were indeed fortunate. Glenleigh Skewes’s reaction appears to have been typical: On arrival at the Garden and Wood area at Changi, we walked across a Padang of long turf, green and soft. At the other end we were shown into new attap huts erected by POWs . . . for the return of F force. We repeated to ourselves and to one another, ‘brand new huts for us! and electric lighting too!’ We could scarcely believe our eyes after the verminous reeking huts of the north.32 For those who suffered in Burma and Thailand the ‘myth’ of Changi had not faded and proved the single positive element in their cumulative experience of captivity upon which to focus. P. Allwood worked on the railway and recorded in his diary the following lines, written by a fellow POW while at Kanu [sic, probably Konyu]. I’d be happy, oh so happy, if someone said to me ‘We leave today at three, for Changi by the sea.’ No Nips yelling, jungle felling I’d be happy there, Here my ruddy bed’s so buggy, it leaves the bamboos bare. At Changi by the sea, that’s where I long to be, Where fags were issued free, and where we had meat for tea. I can’t help thinking tonight, how my belt was always tight with Red Cross rations served in all fashions, everything was bright. The handcarts round the door of our old rations store were always on the go and yet we grumbled so. Oh! I would never be a squealer, if I could breakfast off ‘Mabela’ And could get back, to my old shack, back in Changi by the sea.33 While Lt.-Col. Holmes noted that the ‘health of those recently returned from Up-Country . . . has shown a gradual but definite improvement during the past month [January]’, the period of readjustment and preferential treatment was short-lived.34 It was not long before the demands of Changi life began to assert

128 Return from the railway: 1943–4 themselves on even the recently returned men. Beginning on 27 January 1944, the Japanese ordered that 250 of the fittest men from the down-country parties be employed in the vegetable gardens; this decision, of course, allowed the number of men working on the ground levelling party to be increased by 250 on 26 January. A further 200 men were required by 28 January.35 The 250 down-country men detailed to work in the gardens were to be supplemented by ‘as many men as possible to work as much as they could manage even if this meant only 2–3 hours daily’.36 The return of men from up-country saw the start of a battle over their immediate future. The Japanese decision to provide the returned troops with ‘Heavy Duty Rations’ proved to be less generous than it seemed, accompanied as it was by an enquiry as to when, exactly, these men would be available for work. Lt.-Col. Holmes replied that the camp medical authorities would make a decision on the suitability of these men for work duties in the near future.37 This was very different from conditions on the railway where the requirements of the Japanese engineers frequently overruled the local medical authority. Shortly after this the IJA decided that men from the ‘down-country’ party should be employed in the gardens for a whole day rather than the half-day agreed previously.38 In his ‘Interim Report’, Lt.-Col. Galleghan articulated the problems associated with Japanese demands for working parties; assessment is reproduced in full: The Japanese performed no local services for the PW other than to lift bulk rations to a central store, and for a short period to bring in fuel, and certain other items. The whole of the camp organisation, Q work, adm, and hygiene and medical was carried on by PW labour. A large number of PW were thus employed on camp fatigues. This was to be expected. However, demands for labour for duties, fatigues, and work of all kinds outside the camp soon exceeded the fit manpower available, and there was begun a resistance to Japanese demands for men. The position became more and more acute as the health of the camp deteriorated. Manpower became a major consideration. Medical classifications as to fitness for various work, genuine and open to the fullest check by the Japanese had they so desired, were almost entirely disregarded by the Japanese administration. The allowance of suitable fit men for camp duties was cut down by the Japanese. On the other hand if sufficient men did not work, camp income dropped and supplementary rations suffered. It was in our own interests that the central garden was maintained. This duty absorbed large numbers but those detailed to be so employed gradually had to be the least fit. The more fit were fully occupied in heavier work such as fuel haulage by trailer, and as from Sept. 43 on aerodrome construction work (euphemistically called the ‘Ground Levelling’ party). This latter work involved large numbers working for long hours, though the nature of the work varied. The demands for this party carried on in 1944 when a high proportion of the camp were most unfit after the tragic Thailand parties (F and H forces) had returned. The Japanese recognised the severity of the aerodrome work when they acceded to demands for extra rice for this party. These were the

Return from the railway: 1943–4 129 principal large local parties. In addition and contemporaneously many smaller parties were supplied, some for technical work and other parties (somewhat larger) for road construction. There was no respite for the men. Every fit man was forced by Japanese demands to labour until he was sick and exhausted. Then before he could recover, the pressure was on again and he went back to work. Men in lower and lower medical classifications had to work where previously their physical condition was recognised by the Japanese as a reason for not working. The continuous nature of the work required from every man by Japanese orders explains much of the deterioration in health of the camp. Continuously representations were made to the Japanese on the matter. Some succeeded, but usually the most to be hoped for was a compromise on numbers to be provided.39 The extent of these Japanese demands on manpower was a new experience for Changi. The use of men in Singapore town in the aftermath of the surrender had still left adequate numbers of fit prisoners available in Changi itself. The cumulative effect of overwork on an insufficient diet had been amply demonstrated on the railway, and while the conditions at Changi were not yet as serious, nor did they become so, they were still a cause for concern. By March 1944 the ‘steady deterioration in the manpower situation in the Camp [was] causing extreme anxiety’.40 These problems obliged the POWs to use unfit men on camp maintenance duties, as distinct from specifically Japanese requirements, and one of the stated concerns was that the employment of such men in the gardens had a negative impact on productivity.41 The experience of the railway, and subsequent Japanese demands, underlined the increasing importance of moderating the impact of Japanese requirements in some way and this was evident when the order prohibiting the playing of football or of engaging in boxing was repeated.42 The POWs were informed that ‘reasons for this order include the drain on medical supplies following football and boxing injuries and the fact that work and other games provide sufficient exercise to maintain physical fitness on P.W. diet’. To emphasise the seriousness of the situation any breach of this order was ‘to be taken seriously’.43 The POWs were in an unenviable situation as they were aware of the problems inherent in the continuance of their position but could only make tenuous plans to combat them. The camp medical authorities produced a report detailing the inadequacies of the current available ration scale in Changi and concluded that it was likely to produce a recurrence of beriberi in the near future. The only precautions that could be suggested were, of necessity, wholly preventative. The continued practice of washing the rice was thought detrimental as it entailed the loss of some 5 per cent of the total volume and a 50 per cent loss of vitamin content. One possible solution was, if the rice could not be cooked without leaving residue water, then this too should be added to soups. Similarly the cooking of maize in wood ash resulted in a significant loss of vitamin B and was discouraged. Whole grain maize should be ‘broken up as far as possible, indigestible in whole state’. Grain may be soaked or boiled and then minced, by these means 20 per cent loss of its nutrition value

130 Return from the railway: 1943–4 may be avoided.44 These kind of detailed cooking instructions, with a determined and clear object, became a more frequent occurrence at Changi and drew on the considerable expertise of a great number of POWs. The Japanese could not reasonably object to this type of instruction and obviously had a vested interest in seeing their workforce healthy. The continued demonstration of problem-solving abilities such as this was in fact one of the most effective, yet subtle, manifestations of POW autonomy. Japanese attempts to direct a greater portion of their captives’ activities were constantly undermined by this type of instruction.

Changes in Japanese behaviour While request and counter request flowed back and forth between the POWs and their captors, usually to no real resolution, a more significant event occurred. Towards the end of November Lt.-Col. Holmes was sentenced to two weeks on the ground-levelling party for complaining about the treatment of POWs held at the ‘notorious’ Outram Road gaol in Singapore. Here, POWs and others who had fallen foul of the Japanese were subjected to a variety of tortures and maltreatment. Major Shean accompanied Holmes to an interview with Lt. Tagumi at the gaol after Holmes had requested that the International Red Cross representative be allowed to visit men held at Outram Road. Holmes and Major Shean were told that ‘we had no status as POWs’ and that Holmes’s signature, as ‘Commanding British and Australian Troops’ was inaccurate as ‘we were not troops and he was not commanding’. This type of comment from the Japanese was reminiscent of their attitude to their captives in the very early days, post-surrender, and had largely been absent in the intervening years. The Japanese did not stop at minor insults: The Commander was ‘sentenced’ to 2 weeks on the aerodrome. A very petty punishment for quite a legitimate act in doing all he can for his fellow POW. It has had no effect other than to unite the camp in the same way as the Selarang show did. Its [sic] bad luck on the Commander but otherwise it is a good thing that the camp is worked up about it.45 Col. Shorland also considered that ‘[being sentenced by the Japanese] has greatly raised his [Holmes’s] prestige and he has enjoyed the rest’.46 Shean subsequently commented that ‘E.B. is now dug in on the aerodrome and says that he loves having nothing to do.’47 Curiously, Captain Nelson in The Story of Changi remembered the incident somewhat differently. He wrote that ‘Holmes . . . was ordered to join the aerodrome working party for the next two weeks. He did not.’48 Despite the confusion, this Japanese punishment was merely the first sign of a perceptible hardening of attitude towards their captives. This did not mean that the Japanese at Changi were becoming more brutal, in line with their compatriots on the railway, but rather that they were responding more forcefully to particular transgressions, transgressions that previously had either been dismissed or ignored. The specific form of POW action that the Japanese found objectionable

Return from the railway: 1943–4 131 was frequently innocuous but generally characterised by an infringement of the perceived line of demarcation between captive and captor. For example, presuming to tell the Japanese how to run their POW camps as Holmes did, above, and had also done on previous occasions in the past. To complicate matters, the Japanese were acting in an increasingly erratic fashion, overreacting to some incidents and not responding at all to others. Their behaviour only served to make the POWs even more unsure of the nature of the authority they were dealing with. The general shortage of adequate material to be used as towels, for example, was considered to be promoting skin disease amongst the men and the IJA was asked to provide some sort of towels as a result. In response they supplied five sacks of ‘miscellaneous’ material for this purpose.49 Major Shean believed that he had an explanation for this incident, at least. He thought the Japanese were ‘presumably feeling rather guilty after E.B.’s punishment [and] are all sugar and are agreeing to most of the requests I put up lately’.50 While Shean was pleased about these activities he, too, was more aware of the reality of the POWs’ position. Shean had noted an incident that provided an insight into Japanese behaviour, as well as the extent to which the POWs at Changi were isolated from contact with their captors. He said ‘I witnessed some pretty grisly handling of a chink coolie . . . this all happened in front of about 60 officer POWs and it had a very sobering effect on us. It was bad luck on the chink but in a way it was a good thing for us to see as we are apt to forget some of the more unpleasant moments of the early days.’51 Changes in the behaviour of the Japanese were conditioned as much by the personalities of those Japanese officers who exercised authority over Changi as by external factors. The arrival of yet another Japanese camp commander, Lt. Takahashi, immediately brought new methods and ideas to Changi. His regime was somewhat different, and he moved almost immediately to restrict the frequency and manner of requests from the POWs to the Japanese. His decision was prompted, partially, by a visit to Changi by the overall Japanese commander in Singapore. During his visit, General Arimura was presented directly with various urgent supply requirements, requests that had not been submitted through the ‘normal channels’. Takahashi ordered that any future requests should go through camp HQ and not direct to the General. As a result of this incident it was decided ‘in the interest of the camp’ that all indirect requests were to cease.52 The camp did receive six small packets of pipe tobacco from the American Red Cross at this time, although a supply of cigarettes was withheld due to alleged ‘propaganda’ on the wrappings.53 This was a particular source of displeasure for Major Shean: It’s maddening – some cigarettes came with the recent consignment of Red X goods but the Japs. won’t let us have them because the labels ‘were displeasing to them.’ V for victory I suppose. I suggested they remove the cigarettes from the packets before issue but they said that each cigarette was stamped with ‘some bad writing!’ So we get no cigarettes. I think it’s bloody petty and shabby of them.54

132 Return from the railway: 1943–4 While this might be dismissed as insignificant, Sergeant Romney’s diary features an interesting entry from a year earlier, in October 1942. Romney, while preparing to leave for the Burma–Thailand railway was grateful to be issued with Red Cross stores for the journey: One party moved off today, and it was pleasing to see them all in the same kind of hat, a grey coloured trilby, which came in the Red Cross consignment. The issue of hats coincided with the issue of Red Cross cigarettes, in packets which bore a large V on them. These Vs quickly appeared on the new hats. I have in mind to organise it in our unit, for though the letter stands for victory it also stands for Volunteers, so even in Nip eyes we would be entitled to wear them!55 These minor exhibitions of resistance on the part of the POWs were, by this point in the war, now recognised for what they were by the Japanese and evidently viewed with far more seriousness than a year previously. The IJA also ordered that all national flags of Allied nations be handed in or destroyed, as well as any photographs of Allied ‘rulers’.56 This, as well as the fact of his own punishment period, prompted Lt.-Col. Holmes to assert that such Japanese sanctions as these ‘only succeeded in raising the prisoners’ morale’.57

The arrival of Major-General Saito The catalyst for many of the more substantial changes at Changi was the arrival, in March 1944, of Major-General Saito from Java, who replaced Major-General Arimura. Just as Lt. Takahashi had made his presence apparent when he arrived, so too did Saito. Saito, with his higher rank, had a larger proportional impact. Predictably, his first public action was to emphasise his position of authority and to exercise that authority over his subordinates. As such, all the POWs at Changi were obliged to attend a special parade in Saito’s honour. This gathering, as ever, involved much waiting around and innumerable delays before Saito’s eventual arrival. His matter-of-fact approach, however, was obvious from the start. Captain Rogers recalled the occasion: the substance of his speech was – ‘I am Saito. I have replaced Arimura. I will continue Arimura’s policy, but if I see any need for change, I will change it. All the IJA and Japanese instructions will be obeyed’.58 An immediate change as a result of Saito’s first visit to Changi was that all the tented accommodation, still quite prevalent around Changi, was to be dismantled at once, although no reason for this was given. Despite many POW protests, Lt. Takahashi stated that there was no chance of this order being rescinded, an indication of Saito’s resolve, but that the situation would be examined after the camp had been living without tents for a while. These latest accommodation

Return from the railway: 1943–4 133 rearrangements meant ‘still more moving about and overcrowding’ to no real end, other than demonstrating that when the Japanese wished something to be so, then the POWs were obliged to concur.59 A conference involving the senior POW officers was held to discuss the accommodation problems and it was suggested that the various buildings set aside as churches might have to be used for accommodation purposes. While these changes were underway, the IJA granted a holiday for personnel working in the workshops and camp piggeries to facilitate the rearrangement of accommodation, a further demonstration of the ‘carrot and stick’ approach.60 The new Japanese regime, with a view to maximising the manpower available, ordered that 300 additional men be employed in the camp gardens and that unfit men be used, working half days, if necessary. As an incentive for the POW authorities to find these men, they were informed that the gardens and the piggery would be closed down if they were not forthcoming. Lt.-Col. Holmes considered, therefore, that unfit men should be the most fit of the unfit troops as far as possible.61 The constant reorganising of accommodation and areas continued when the Japanese requested a detailed accommodation statement showing the numbers occupying each building or hut, with these buildings to be ‘described in a manner in which the IJA could understand’.62 Further buildings in the HQMC area were to be affected by moves and ‘considerable overcrowding resulted from this loss of accommodation’.63 Major Shean tried to explain what he understood to be the main problems resulting from the arrival of Saito: General Saito paid another visit to the camp and has ordered some pretty drastic changes. You see he’s been used to the highly concentrated and guarded camps of Java and is shattered by the lack of Jap. influence and supervision within the camp. The immediate results have been: 1. The introduction of Japanese words of Command when paying compliments. 2. The forbidding of us to place men in detention. 3. The handing in of all flags and maps. 4. Cessation of all bugle calls and above all the re-allotment of all accommodation – not only do we lose the old camp H.Q. bldgs for the Jap. garrison but also 6 houses on the east side of the road through the camp to the old hp area via valley Rd.64 The only, small, benefit that accrued with these changes was that the Japanese did at least grant what they termed a holiday, given to all the prisoners employed on the IJA ground-levelling party, the central gardens scheme and the forestry party, in order that they might assist in the internal moves.65 The Japanese description of this furlough as a ‘holiday’ also has a significance as it gives the impression, and was intended to do so, no doubt, that it was an act conceived of by the Japanese in a benevolent spirit and was in itself representative of something given. The extent to which this was true is obviously considerably less than the term ‘holiday’ suggests. As well as the ‘holiday’, General Saito also gave each man in camp 70 cents as an ‘Easter gift’. Irrespective of the motives of this gift, it of course did

134 Return from the railway: 1943–4 not reduce the benefit of such a sum to the POWs in general. The money was pooled and spent on sugar, with individual issues being made to each man.66 General Saito also instructed that all demands for POW working parties or stores, by the Japanese, would in future be accompanied by a written authority. In the event of IJA personnel asking for things without adopting the correct procedure then the request would be complied with but reported to the Japanese Supervising Office.67 This at least had the positive effect of removing some of the arbitrary Japanese actions with regard to POWs. It was also a minor admission that the POWs did have a modicum of rights to which they were entitled. Saito had set about introducing a degree of formality and structure into the relations between captive and captor that had hitherto been largely absent at Changi. While this did confer some benefits on the prisoners, it was in reality the beginning of concerted attempts to undermine the autonomy of the POW community at Changi by eroding their strong sense of group identity and reducing their independence. This was manifested in the new instruction that the Japanese language was to be used in the paying of compliments and on daily roll call parade. Given that the Japanese army was instructing its troops to use such methods in the early days of the war, the decision by the Japanese at Changi to start now is significant.68 These Japanese actions were not particularly subtle. Captain Rogers was also aware of a perceptible change in Japanese attitudes: There has been a general tightening up by the IJA. All orders have to be given in Japanese, the matter of saluting has been attended to. I think that the growth of the ’drome has a lot to with the restriction of movement which is coming on, and I understand that things may become even more severe. It is rumoured that the concerts are to be cut down to one show per week. That will hurt us a great deal, for there is no doubt that these shows do a great deal to relieve us from our present worries. But we really cannot complain much, I suppose, as these restrictions could have been in force for the two years we have been POWs.69 All over Changi, levels of discipline and military behaviour were addressed. ‘Slack saluting’ was a particular cause for concern. A reminder from the ‘manual of elementary drill’ emphasised that ‘saluting will not be made without headgear’; also the instruction that ‘all ranks will wear appropriate badges of rank . . . at all times except . . . when taking part in games’ was circulated around the camp.70 The Japanese also decreed that from April 1944 POWs were not to serve sentences of detention passed by POW officers but were, instead, to be handed over to the Japanese for punishment. To circumvent this unpalatable course of action, the POW authorities began suspending the prisoners’ working pay as an alternative punishment.71 There is an obvious paradox here as each side (the Japanese and the POW authorities) moved to ensure that discipline was of the highest order, each believing that ground might be gained in the ongoing struggle between captor and captive. The Japanese, while beginning to appreciate the significance of the less obvious POW attempts at resistance, also appeared to

Return from the railway: 1943–4 135 consider that a well-drilled body of POWs was an obedient and subservient one. This would seem to be at odds with their own, occasional, comments concerning their captives that they were no longer soldiers. Galleghan’s belief that the POWs should act as near as possible to regular troops, irrespective of their circumstances, was important in this sense. He, along with Holmes, believed that ‘the atmosphere of a disciplined camp kept morale high and avoided any tendency to drift into a mob of prisoners instead of a formed body of soldiers’, and that ‘a high standard of discipline was necessary to prevent any slipping in control of troops and performance of duty (e.g. hygiene) which may well have cost lives’.72 Unconsciously, this adherence to discipline frustrated the Japanese because it implied that their own influence was less effective and peripheral. The apparent Japanese belief that the defeat at Singapore would render the POWs more compliant with Japanese wishes had not been realised. Ironically, they chose to counter their perceptions of a loss of their authority by demanding that their captives act less like captives and more like fellow soldiers. As well as these more overt attempts to rein in the POWs, the Japanese also tried to remove other activities that contributed to the POWs’ independence and from which they drew positive associations. One example of this was the threat that in the near future any repairs to clothing and boots would take place in Singapore, with all sewing machines and tools being withdrawn from the camp. This was the subject of yet another strong protest by Lt.-Col. Holmes which, apparently, had the desired effect.73 Confusingly, the Japanese later praised the boot repair shop in camp and claimed that it was doing ‘good work’.

The move to Changi gaol The move of troops around the Changi area presaged a more significant and final movement. Major Thompson noted: ‘While accommodation changes being smoothly made, bigger and more drastic change looms ahead. IJA order that the whole POW camp, less hospital, is to move as soon as possible to Changi gaol (from which civilian internees are to be evacuated) and its surroundings, where huts are to be erected.’74 The POW hospital, accommodated at Roberts barracks since February 1942, was also to move to a new site, at Kranji in the north of Singapore island. As a result, only a small medical area functioned at Changi gaol and transport was provided to ferry patients from the gaol to Changi.75 In addition ‘SIME road Camp and about 800 from Down Country to be concentrated in Changi gaol area’.76 The men at Sime Road were principally the survivors of the decimated H Force, many of whom had spent the period since returning undergoing treatment at the Sime Road hospital.77 Major Shean was predictably downcast about this new turn of events, noting: Well at last the blow has fallen . . . it appears that the civil internees are moving from the Gaol to Sime road and that this camp, Sime Road POW and about 700 from up country are going to the Gaol area. The hp is moving too but not to the same area and its destination has not yet been disclosed but it

136 Return from the railway: 1943–4 will serve the gaol area POW. We’ve got to move as many huts as possible from this area as the Gaol originally was for 1500 felons and we’re only getting the Gaol and a few Asiatic warders quarters. An unhappy feature of the move is that officers and men are to be segregated and the IJA will administer the troops. So we may find ourselves in a crowded officers’ Kampong with no work to do, no troops to look after and in probably very restricted areas which I believe is one of the fads of General Saito.78 Major Gillies, who was one of the fortunate ones to return from working on the Burma–Thailand railway, was surprised at the scale of the changes now apparent at Changi: We found on arriving back that the camp had moved entirely up to the Selarang area and that an aerodrome was being built along the level through Changi village . . . Soon after I came out of hospital Maj. Gen. Saitu [sic] took over command and I’ll tell the world he has changed things. We are now in the throes of moving to Changi gaol, all the civilian internees having been moved to swine [Sime] Rd. and the people there brought up to the gaol. We have to complete the move by the end of this month and as it involved pulling down huts here and re-erecting them there it is going to be a near thing, and when we get there it’s going to be a hell of a squash. I fear the days of comfort – or near comfort – are over.79 The POWs’ tenure of the British base at Changi was now over. The POW ‘camp’ they entered more than two years earlier had been transformed, principally through the efforts of the POWs themselves. While the degree of Japanese indifference to their captives was only now apparent, in the aftermath of the railway, it was also only now that captivity began to be seriously restricted and regulated. This, it may be speculated, was in direct response to the POWs’ own behaviour and what the Japanese considered it represented. Major Gillies’s comments about the gaol proved to be remarkably prescient.

8

Changi gaol: May 1944–September 1945

The move to Changi gaol would prove to be the last major reorganisation of the Changi POW camp. While at the gaol, the POWs would learn of the German surrender and the end of the European war, as well as the Japanese capitulation, some months later. This event meant the end of their war and of captivity. The realisation that they were finally free obliged all the POWs to come to terms with the reality of a freedom that had been out of reach for so long. While the months spent at the gaol were the final instalment of captivity, they were also among the most difficult times of the entire war and the period during which internal disharmony appeared to be at its greatest. For the first time, a large proportion of the prisoners were genuinely confined within the walls of an institution that had been constructed specifically for that purpose. Even though the gaol was not operated in the same manner as it had been when a civilian, prewar institution, and many men were accommodated outside its walls, others were also held in cells with barred windows. Accommodation in these cells was also cramped and far in excess of pre-war levels. In addition to these concerns, the Japanese, whose influence had been increasing, began to exert a more direct influence on daily POW life. The nature of this Japanese attention was far more authoritarian than previously, and this changed the whole complexion of daily existence. This period also saw the replacement of Lt.-Col. Holmes as the senior Allied officer at Changi, a move that came about as result of specific Japanese instigation. His replacement, Lt.-Col. Newey, proved a contentious choice and this, in combination with other factors, served to remove the long-standing buffer between the POWs and their captors. Holmes had generally exercised this role skilfully and effectively. To a very great degree the time at Changi gaol represented a new beginning. It was a time that would test the POWs’ integrity and adaptability, as well as their patience. It would also demonstrate the extent to which their positive responses to captivity had been conditioned as much by the unique nature of their captivity to date as well as by their own resourcefulness. Henceforth, life as prisoner of war at Changi would be a very different experience.

138 Changi gaol: May 1944–September 1945

Changi gaol The news that the entire POW population was to move to the gaol brought about the first significant readjustment to captivity for many. The oldest and sickest prisoners had not been required for overseas working parties and had spent their entire period of captivity at Changi camp alone. The changes in the pattern of their lives were to prove considerable, but even the men who had been away from Singapore found readjustment difficult, deprived as they were of the recuperative atmosphere of Changi camp. The new accommodation, coupled with a new style of administration, meant that the comparatively free days were a thing of the past and the nature of captivity now resembled more traditional models of POW camps. The biggest test, however, was the extent to which the resourcefulness fostered and developed previously could now adapt to, and similarly flourish in, what amounted to a radically different environment. The preceding two years, comprised as they were of essentially similar routines, had engendered feelings of reassurance and security – as had the familiar surroundings. When these were removed, it inevitably caused some anxiety. Captain Wilkinson, like many others, was apprehensive about the move and wondered, ‘how we shall get it all in, goodness knows . . . it is stated that each man is allowed 1 metre of space and each officer 1 m 20 cm, so it will be extremely crowded. Officers are being separated from men this time, which is accordance with the 1907 treaty.’1 Captain Horner was initially housed in a variety of different cells and found, curiously, that despite the privations he’d suffered as a POW to date, the extent to which they had prepared him to adapt to changed circumstances was less than he had imagined. Horner was surprised to realise that ‘latrines (Asiatic pattern) are in the cell and even hardened as we are after Thailand, we felt some embarrassment when using them’.2 Private W.W. Sowter’s apprehensions were unfounded, he discovered, and he thought that the gaol was ‘not as black as it is painted’.3 By contrast, Col. Shorland was unreserved in his views of the move and the gaol itself, remarking that ‘life here is better than expected’, and this was despite the fact that ‘we are very crowded and miss the freedom of movement. Our room is 12ft by 10ft and we are three in it. Luck [sic], as most are four. It’s in an old concrete Sikh warder’s married quarter.’4 However, not all were so fortunate as to hold the rank of Colonel. After the comparative space afforded at Changi camp, the confinements apparent in the more restricted gaol were among the most obvious readjustments. Staff Sergeant Burrey noted that: Shifted up to Changi Gaol this afternoon. Most modern and second largest in world. It’s a huge place. 4 men to a cell. Sewerage and wash basin in every cell. We are in a workshop room on the first floor of European section. Nothing to see but iron bars and cement walls.5 Wilkinson was undecided about which group, officers or other ranks (ORs), had received the better deal over accommodation. He commented:

Changi gaol: May 1944–September 1945 139 In the officer’s camp there are about 260 cooks and batmen. Some living in kitchens at the rear of the coolie quarters, the remainder in huts. The majority of the men live in the gaol but quite a few including the hospital are living in wooden huts near to our area. The gaol is an amazing place inside. It is most up to date with steam cooking and a laundry and central incinerator.6 Lt. Orr was more than pleased to be accommodated outside the walls of the gaol, although he did think that conditions in general were less impressive, especially when compared to Changi camp: Working at Kitchen all day, bricklayers and carpenters still working there and likely to be there for some time, everything very primitive – we must have gone back a 1000 years. Visited Gaol . . . a terrific place – cost $8 million, we are lucky to be outside – horrible inside.7 The new structure of priorities was manifested in number of ways. With every item being shipped to the gaol, all the beds belonging to ORs were sent to a central dump and reissued later, irrespective of prior claims to ownership.8 Officers, too, were required to pool their furniture, but beds and other ‘camp equipment’ was excepted. As well as these obvious divisions of rank, there also were squabbles amongst the officers themselves. A new and ‘tentative scale’ confirming an officer’s furniture allocation was drawn up, with Lieutenant-Colonels receiving the maximum allowance of one bed, one chair, one table and three easy chairs per officer. Other officers were allocated one bed, one chair, and one small table per four officers, with one large table per ten officers.9 Captain Rogers mentioned this in his diary: There seems to [be] a strange form of brain malady about – a sort of Lt. Col. complex very difficult to explain. As all senior officers were taken away, juniors assumed their positions and prerogatives, perhaps more than that: at any rates an example of this, there is an order out that Lieut. Cols. alone will be permitted to have small tables and easy chairs. As most of these have been ingeniously made from scraps of odd material, it seems strange to me that the makers or owners – call them what you like – should be deprived of the work of their own brains and ability. But I must not criticise my betters.10 The pervading culture that had previously characterised Changi camp, that of ingenuity and ‘self help’, now appeared to be under threat in the gaol. This was not only because of the division of spoils, such as cited earlier, but also because the limited space and resources meant that what had been either acquired or constructed was unlikely to be replaced by new manufactures or by similarly fruitful scrounging opportunities. In fact, complaints about the conduct of fellow prisoners in general, and officers in particular, are more apparent in diaries during this period than at any other time. Staff Sergeant Burrey’s diary contains several specific grievances:

140 Changi gaol: May 1944–September 1945 Food question here lousy at present. Officers are drawing over 3 times their entitlement of rations. [They] Have roast meat at night and meat stew or broth, while we just have stew with practically no meat in it. Their issue of rice is far greater than ours. Without any effort I could sit down and eat our 3 meals a day at one sitting. Hungry all the time. My opinion of officers at the moment is very poor.11 The introduction of an officer’s clothing scale, shortly after the move, also provided cause for some more serious friction in the POW community. Captain Wilkinson wrote that: A maximum clothing scale for officers came into force on 23rd . . . All our kit was inspected by Col. Litton (Royal Indian Army Service Corps) this afternoon. Actually I gained by the scale being enforced as Major Portal was over scale and gave me a new pair of trousers and a towel. The scale was as follows:1 hat, 1 cap, shorts, trousers 4 (includes Java green breaches, white, coloured civilian, flannel, gabardine, Java green LP canvass, (not serge). KD trousers (uniform), socks or stockings 4, shirts 4 (all types shirts, safaris, bush, lumber or KD jackets (including KD uniform). Towels 2 (does not include small towels 12′′ or less). Blankets 1 (one additional may be retained where officer is not sleeping on a mattress). Vests or singlets 2 (includes American Red Cross crew pattern). Boots, light, leather or IJA rubber boots 1 (not Red Cross or military). Shoes 1 (suede or leather – not chaplis, canvas etc.). An officer may retain shoes in lieu of boots.12 Even Wilkinson, who was a beneficiary, thought that ‘this scale is a little on the high side and I shall be most surprised if much surplus is handed in’. Although some officers will possess this scale there will be a large number who have much less. The idea is to give these officers the surplus and try and make them up to the maximum scale. If there are still a lot of deficiencies the only answer is to reduce the maximum scale and level things out accordingly. The whole scheme, as was expected, has proved to be most unpopular by a large number of officers, but that just cannot be helped as it is the obvious thing to do under these circumstances.13 Major Shean noticed the rumbling discontent around the camp, writing that ‘a lot of ill feeling is being caused by a new officer’s clothing scale by which the “haves” are going to lose kit to the “have-nots.” I myself have a good kit and stand to lose a lot but I’m sure it’s the only thing to do.’14 In Shean’s case, his position of comparative ‘wealth’ owed much to the fact that he had avoided the railway. The Japanese camp commandant also granted a special dispensation to officers’ bathing parties, allowing them to swim outside the designated bathing areas, a

Changi gaol: May 1944–September 1945 141 privilege not extended to the ORs.15 Discontent, it seemed, was abroad at all levels of Changi society. Major Gillies was also complaining to his journal: I think I am going to be in charge of the MI room for officers with, probably a couple of M.O.s to assist. Rather a thankless job I’m afraid, but the trouble is that there are so many slackers among the officers that they try and to get their medical categories lowered by the M.O. and the M.O.s have, regrettably connived at this to a large extent. It isn’t easy of course for a young Captain, say, to tell some old burbler of a Col. that there is damn all wrong with him except lack of guts and of course if the said M.O. is a Regular, he has to think of his future . . . there are some 1200 officers here and at least 1000 of them are complete washouts in one respect or another by now, whatever they may have been before being POWs.16 Major Gillies confided to his diary that the move to the Gaol had proved to be a mixed blessing. While he had only ‘12 more pages’ left in his journal and ‘at one time this would have been a cause of some worry . . . since being here we have found lashings of paper . . . resulting in an immediate exacerbation of the paper war – orders and counter orders by the score’.17 The number of paper orders did indeed multiply, if the quantity that survived the war from this period, compared to earlier, is taken as evidence. Ironically, just a couple of months later came an order to reduce the consumption of paper to ‘an absolute minimum’ and to eliminate it ‘where ever possible’.18 The move to the gaol rendered all of the material improvements and initiatives of the previous years redundant. The location was underdeveloped by comparison, but the POWs did not take long to start shaping their new environment to their liking and to make the best use of everything that came to hand. Improvements at Changi gaol were many: 49 wooden huts were demolished, transported, and re-erected in the new camp, in which also 15 × 100 metre huts were built. Electric light and power was carried throughout the camp, and water points and showers had to be installed. Roads were built, Drainage was laid out, hospital installations (x-ray, emergency power set) and grass extract machinery was installed. Cookhouses were built, and ovens installed. The gaol kitchens were converted to wood burning [and] wells for emergency water supply were sunk.19 The new camp, and the subsequent readjustments that it demanded, put enormous strain on the men at Changi, a strain that while still potent prior to the move had largely been tempered by the effect of living in a well-ordered environment; more specifically, an environment that had seen many of the privations moderated by the POWs’ own initiatives. This was the consideration that Wilkinson hinted at when he spoke of the iniquity of having one’s home-made furniture redistributed. Many of these complaints were prompted not purely by the new location, but rather by the accumulated stresses and strains of captivity to date. These

142 Changi gaol: May 1944–September 1945 strains, as well as the myriad changes in POW life, were given more substantive form by a major change in the administration and command at Changi. This event, which would colour the remaining year of the war, may also be seen to have coincided with a very real degree of change within the POW community, as well as sponsoring it. Following an alleged incident of ‘absenteeism’, a euphemism for what was in reality an escape, albeit a fairly innocuous one, on the part of a British officer married to a local woman, Lt. Takahashi removed both Lt.-Col. Holmes and Lt.-Col. Galleghan from their positions as, respectively, Commander-in-Chief (C.-in-C.) POWs and Deputy C.-in-C. In their place was appointed Lt.-Col. J.H. Newey, 1st Straits Settlement Volunteer Force, a volunteer soldier, as the new representative officer of the POW camp. Newey was given leave to appoint his own administrative staff from amongst the POW body.20 At the same time as this move, an Officers Area was instituted, with Lt.-Col. Pond appointed as the representative officer to the IJA.21 Lt. Takahashi had previously been in command at the Sime Road camp, before taking over at Changi, where he had obviously made Newey’s acquaintance.22 While the circumstances of the change in command are not clear, Newey, in his personal report on his experiences with H Force, wrote: On arrival in Singapore we were taken by lorry to Sime Road Camp, where our treatment improved immediately. Here we received from the Camp Commandant, Lt. Takaimishi [sic] kindly treatment and every consideration that circumstances would permit in the way of feeding, hospital facilities etc. and as a result the already heavy death roll was prevented from becoming much worse and the health of all rapidly improved.23 Newey’s relationship with the Japanese officer responsible for Sime Road was complicated and obviously had a bearing on Newey’s subsequent appointment at Changi. It may also have influenced Newey’s conduct while serving as representative officer. Certainly, Captain Wilkinson was sufficiently aware of the dynamics of the situation to write: ‘Lt. Takashie [sic] knew Newey in Sime Road which is obviously the reason for selecting him.’24 Captain Horner wrote that ‘the reasons given [for the change in command] are finding of one Mountford [the absentee officer] . . . in Singapore – all very amusing’.25 Major Shean gave a fuller and more descriptive account of events: One morning we were told that a fellow called Mountford had not appeared for Breakfast . . . he is married to some local dusky belle and has often threatened to go and visit his family . . . we decided to give him till the 1930 hrs Roll Call before reporting him to the nips. During all this Takahashi seemed in quite good form and not unduly worried. But the next morning he was in bad form and said that had we reported the absence earlier the matter would have been kept out of the hands of the Jap. Kampe [sic] [kempei tai] but by not reporting the matter it had got too public and courts martial etc. would perhaps be necessary. He expressed great displeasure with EB Holmes

Changi gaol: May 1944–September 1945 143 and BJ [‘Black Jack’ Galleghan] and made a dark threat about changes. Later in the morning he sent for Col. Newey a rather unpopular volunteer officer and made him boss of the camp via EB and BJ (disturbance in court) Takahashi knew Newey in Sime road and apparently thought a lot of him and I don’t think he cared for BJ or EB very much.26 It seems likely that the row over the absentee officer was only the catalyst for the change, although it probably reflected broader Japanese concerns over the degree of freedom that the POWs had been granted to date, and with these changes in command the Japanese influence was to be far more direct and restrictive than previously. Captain David Nelson in The Story of Changi, his account of captivity, described the same events as follows: My word, what a dull day was Friday (21st) for the Camp Commandant, Captain Takahachi [sic]. Old Bill, Lt. in the SSVF., escaped the night before and Camp Office failed to report his absence; he was caught and handed back and put in handcuffs . . . then some British POWs stole twelve plugs from the trucks which bring rice to the camp . . . Then two aerodrome workers left the party and were caught stealing vegetables from the Japanese Army gardens. There are hundreds of cases. Despite Captain Takahachi’s provocation he took a lenient view of Bill’s escapade.27 The officer whose ‘escape’ had prompted the whole affair, ‘Old Bill Mountford’, was not, as had been threatened on innumerable occasions, shot out of hand. The replacement of Holmes, who had assumed command at Changi when General Percival departed in August 1942 and led the camp through the Selarang incident as well as the deaths of so many men on the railway, prompted a variety of opinions. Major Gillies was predictably pessimistic about the whole affair: There was a partial eclipse of the sun here. Next day we were told that all the old relics of Malaya Command, who, latterly have been known as the Camp Office Group, had suffered a total eclipse at the hands of the Nips and that the new boss was a man called Newey. This chap is a volunteer who was in posts and telegraphs out here [Malaya] and he ran the swine [sic] road camp when his party came down country last December. The Nip who was really (I suppose) the boss there – Takahashi by name – now runs this place and he made the choice. The whole affair has caused a great deal of amusement and personally I doubt if it will make a hayseed of difference to the camp as a whole.28 Col. Shorland, by contrast, thought differently about the situation. He considered that the real reasons for the change in command were only too apparent: We had become a little overpowerful over the move, building on our camp, organising it all ourselves etc. and the adm. was becoming a trifle too strong.

144 Changi gaol: May 1944–September 1945 They overcalled and got the sack and the Sime Rd gang came in a couple of weeks ago. Since, there has been much argument and gnashing of teeth, but really it could all hardly matter less for the moment although we fear that less opposition will be put to proposals of our hosts that are unwelcome. The new regime is anti-officer and very tactless. Officers with troops have been reduced which is undoubtedly a bad step and we fear that discipline will revert to Sime road standards. The tragedy is that a Malay postman is in no position to judge and too pigheaded to seek advice.29 The Japanese, just prior to sentencing Holmes to work on the aerodrome, had asserted that he was not actually ‘commanding’, as such, when he had signed documents. The fact that they considered a change in commander at all, and presumably to one they believed would be more amenable to them, suggests that they were extremely aware of the role of the senior POW officer in the functioning of the camp, as well as the potential for trouble. Apart from benefiting from what many saw as Japanese patronage, Newey, the new commander, was not a regular soldier but a volunteer. This appears to have increased the resentment felt towards him by many of his fellow POWs. The incident only further emphasised the very real divisions within the POW community, divisions that had remained largely masked, until now. It also demonstrates both the nature and position of the ‘fault lines’ along which the POW body would divide given sufficient pressure. This consideration will be returned to in the conclusion. Captain Wilkinson was also dismissive of Newey, describing him as ‘a volunteer officer of a poor type, who is some sort of post office official out here in peacetime’.30 To compound matters, Newey was appointed without any reference to the existing command structure, a structure that the Japanese had not interfered with at all until this point and one of the defining and moderating aspects of life at Changi. Lt.-Col. Galleghan was considerably aggrieved and pointed out that Newey had no legal disciplinary authority over the AIF contingent.31 This particular issue was to grow as Newey exerted as much disciplinary authority over Australian troops as he saw fit. Despite these concerns, by the end of the month Major Gillies’s initial pessimism had disappeared. He wrote that ‘the new administration appears to be working well, although there have been no striking changes. I think Newey can be given credit for slight improvements.’32 Gillies himself, however, was a doctor and as has been seen was generally critical of the conduct of senior officers and of the Army system in general. Major Shean, by contrast, was a regular soldier and mentioned the fact that Newey was ‘a great deal junior to a great no. of Officers’ and thus bypassed the traditional military system by his appointment. While all appeared to be quiet initially, Newey indicated that a major shake-up was likely, threatening that ‘strong action will be taken against offences of stealing’.33 To this end, permission was given by the IJA to use a number of cells in the punishment block. All sentences thus awarded were to be confirmed by the Camp Commandant, Lt. Takahashi.34 This type of direct Japanese participation in the punishment of POWs was something that Holmes and Galleghan had struggled to avoid during the previous two years. Newey’s new regime compounded matters,

Changi gaol: May 1944–September 1945 145 with the introduction of regulations that divided officers from their men. Major Shean was most indignant over this: A thing which is causing lots of bitter comments is a recent order published by Newey which states that officers are not to visit the O.R. lines except between stated times on Sunday. The only exception being the senior national and services officers and of course Admin. Personnel. As this is NOT a Jap. but a camp office order you can imagine the fuss it has caused. I often wonder how many of the bitter feuds which spring up here will ever be the cause of official action afterwards.35 A month later, in September, came a similar order from the Japanese. This prohibited all officers from entering the gaol unless they were ‘essential officers on duty’, such as medical officers, padres or otherwise taking part in theatrical productions. The gaol was now ‘out of bounds’.36 Lt.-Col. Holmes, in his post-war report, stated that ‘hints had been dropped at the time of the move to the jail [sic] area that the IJA proposed to separate officers and men according to the Hague Convention of 1907 and this occurred by slow stages between July and September’.37 Wilkinson was also concerned at the changes: An order came out today prohibiting any officer from entering the gaol unless he actually works there. This means one cannot go and see one’s men. They have to be seen outside the gaol which is rather inconvenient to arrange. Warrant officers are now doing the regimental work as company commanders and so on, which officers would normally do. The offices area is now more of a separate concern than ever and various strands of barbed wire have been put up to show the area dividing the line.38 Lt.-Col. Galleghan noted that ‘the Representative Officer [Newey] was unsympathetic to having this order [prohibiting contact between officers and men] removed’.39 The pattern of life at Changi was changing rapidly. Irrespective of the actual practical damage that these activities had, they ensured that the camp was divided and the crucial united front that had been maintained for so long was fast evaporating. In addition to these moves, the IJA also forbade communication between POWs at Changi and other camps in Singapore.40 After nearly three years of generally minimal Japanese influence, the regimen at Changi had become markedly more restricted within a very short space of time. Captain Horner remarked: 22 August. Some new ‘Penal laws with regard to the POW’ have just been promulgated – for any of the following crimes against one’s guards the punishment is – capital punishment, imprisonment or confined for an indefinite period of not less than one year – violence or threat – killing or causing the death or preparing or causing any plot or conspiracy to do this – inflicting injury, committing any violence or making and threat – anyone resisting any

146 Changi gaol: May 1944–September 1945 order or command or disobeying any order or command, anyone insulting ones [sic] guards etc. liable to imprisonment or confined not exceeding five years. R.I.P.!!41 According to the AIF War Diary, the IJA claimed that these laws had been promulgated as early as the previous March, in 1943.42 The new areas of the camp were henceforth to be known as No. 1 Camp, comprising the area within the gaol itself, and No. 2 Camp for the area behind the gaol which also contained the officers’ area and the medical area.43 By December, even the restrictions on movement between these constituent parts of the camp had increased, with the medical area declared out of bounds to all ranks, excepting those on duty or during visiting hours, and the officers’ area being similarly out of bounds to ORs.44 Interestingly, given the amount of disquiet in the camp at all levels, the RASC camp journal, the Clink Chronicle, featured an editorial entitled ‘A Dissertation on Discipline’, the final paragraph of which read: Just think a while before you cackle about the Camp Administration. It may be slow and ponderous in its operation, it may be irritating and seemingly pointless with its systems of endless returns and frequent inspections but ask yourselves – and weigh your answers very carefully – is it less desirable (under the present circumstances) than rabble-rule and mob control? If you are convinced that you can truthfully answer this question with an affirmative then our chances of getting off the island alive are exceedingly small. [signed] Old Lag.45 The changes at Changi continued and were sufficient for the AIF War Diary to comment that ‘at this stage the Japanese appeared to turn even nastier’.46 With effect from 1 October 1944, officers were withdrawn from working groups and NCOs installed in their stead.47 This move, however, had been anticipated. In response, Lt.-Col. Galleghan issued instructions concerning the selection of those NCOs chosen to take command: ‘the paramount consideration in selection of personnel is to pick the most suitable and competent W.O.s and N.C.O.s irrespective of seniority’.48 This move, somewhat at odds with regular military practice, was unusual. How the various criteria of ‘most suitable and competent’ were to be applied and defined was not apparent, but such a departure clearly owed much to the local situation at Changi. Probably most important was the evidence of effective command, demonstrated in the previous two years. This decision was certainly a prudent one, and applied only to the Australians, yet ironically it was based upon the same logic that so many other British POW officers found objectionable in the selection of Newey. It was also something that Galleghan had resisted earlier on in captivity. The Japanese attitude to their captives had changed for the worst. Theatrical productions, for so long the staple of Changi’s extra-curricular activities, were cancelled abruptly, once again for the flimsiest of reasons. Captain Horner, who

Changi gaol: May 1944–September 1945 147 had been involved in running what he termed ‘roadshows’, performances that were staged inside and outside the gaol, recorded: Have just heard that Takahashi the camp commandant has cancelled all entertainment owing to the ‘ribald singing’ of ‘God save the King’ in the hospital Area. We are [hopeful] that the ban will be lifted again although there is nothing on which to base this hope unless it is the fact that Takahashi has always showed himself sympathetic and helpful.49 The next day, however, Horner was more positive, with the news that the ‘Singing of “God save the king” now traced to Indian sentries. Takahashi has approached Gen. Saito with the view to the lifting of the ban, but it must be kept on until the 21st. Saving face!!’50 This ban, however, was more significant than Horner’s diary suggests. The result was a general curtailment of POW activities, except for ‘short periods and occasional special concessions’ that would last for the duration of the war.51 These restrictions did not seem to have too much of an effect, if the entertainment schedule for 29 November 1944 is any indication: ‘A’ Courtyard – 1930 hrs – Changi Mock Parliament Forestry courtyard – 2000 hrs Hypnotism, with a practical demonstration ‘D’ Courtyard – 2000 hrs Lecture ‘Science and the citizen.’ Medical Area – 1915 hrs Lecture No. 2 ‘India’ [unreadable] Courtyard – 1945 hrs ‘Experiences at Sea.’52 These diversions were less ambitious than some of the previous theatre productions at Changi but were, nonetheless, still impressive. While these restrictions were disappointing and undermined morale, the impact of the external war was now being felt at Changi. At the same time as ending entertainment, the Japanese insisted that all POWs should participate in elaborate air raid drills. These events proved to be doubly positive. Captain Horner considered that the drills were ‘ever so exciting’, while Wilkinson testified to their realism: For the last 2 days we have been having an A.R.P. scheme with blackouts. A demonstration of what we would do if a bomb dropped in the middle of the Officers lines was given for the benefit of General Saito and Lieut. Takahashi who were both present. The usual drill was carried out with rescue parties and medical orderlies and so on. A number of limbless officers took part and were carefully buried beneath doors etc. to give a more realistic effect after the ‘bomb’ had exploded and the rescue squad ‘discovered’ them.53 While these drills represented a welcome change of routine, they also served to emphasise the likelihood of Allied air raids, which obviously meant that an end to the war, and captivity, could now reasonably be envisaged. This prospect, for Horner, meant only one thing: ‘roll on peace’ was how he ended his diary entry

148 Changi gaol: May 1944–September 1945 that day. Completely on cue, only days after the practice alerts, came the first signs of Allied air activity, to universal acclaim from the POWs. Major Gillies wrote: The most exciting thing happening was of course our Guy Fawkes day when we had our first sight of allied planes. There was a lot of ack-ack which appeared to me to be pretty good and it is said that bombs were dropped but if so I didn’t hear them. I counted 27 planes myself others say there were up to 40 but I doubt it.54 Captain Horner was also elated by the developments, but the Japanese, predictably, were less pleased as the air raids had the opposite implication for them. They responded to the raids, and to the POWs, improved morale, with yet more restrictions: 5 November Guy Fawkes day and what a day to remember! For the first time since the capitulation In Feb. 42 Allied planes are, even as I write, over Singapore. So far we’ve counted over 30 four-engined bombers, we are needless to say very excited. Is this beginning of the month of our release? 6 November Apropos of yesterday’s raid, Takahashi has ordered that anyone found picking up anything dropped from an aeroplane will be SHOT. 11 November New orders re: air raid alarms, anyone found outside huts during an alarm will be shot, you are not even allowed to visit the latrine so heaven help us if we have a 24 or 48 hour continuous alarm, no food either as the orderlies couldn’t bring it to us.55 Lt. Orr described the air raid as ‘the most momentous day of our POW life’.56 The next day he thought ‘morale greatly lifted after yesterday’.57 The appearance of Allied aircraft and their significance was also somewhat ironic, given that diary entries after the surrender, in 1942, had dwelt upon the absence of any Allied air support. Now, nearly three years later, the much-hoped-for air force had arrived – to scarcely less acclaim. While the Japanese had asserted their authority more markedly than at any time in the past two years, the camp as a whole was very positive about the future. This was despite the myriad disagreements apparent since the move to Changi gaol. Lt. Orr, in his excited way, described the situation towards the end of July – ‘rumours magnificent – some sleeping with their boots on’ – in eager anticipation of a very early release.58 The future was confidently discussed in print as well as amongst individuals and in their diaries: R.A.S.C. Club Notes. The attendance at the talk in the Forestry courtyard on Monday 18th September by Capt. E.W.H. Tellmore, MBE on the activities of the R.A.S.C. association was very disappointing. The sole object of these talks is to help

Changi gaol: May 1944–September 1945 149 you and to give advice to those of the Association who are in doubt regarding future employment. From the responses last Monday it must be inferred that you are all quite happy that you have a job to return to and are not in any need of assistance in that direction. As far as we can gather there have already been many international Conferences on the subject of post-war reconstruction and the solving of Post War economic problems and even the so called experts cannot say what the future holds. Will that job still be there on your return? Think about it thoroughly and don’t merely through apathy, neglect an opportunity to get the best sort of advice while it is available.59 Communication with the outside world was still sporadic, but when news did arrive, the POWs’ responses provided a useful indicator of morale at the time. In early May 1944 this meant news for Major Shean from friends in the army. The progression of events in the outside world was particularly troublesome for Shean who, as a regular soldier, thought ‘what jobs and promotion there must be and power and glory’.60 While Shean betrays his obvious frustration at captivity the fact that he felt it worth recording such sentiments at least suggested that his immediate predicament was not too serious. It also demonstrated that what he missed most in being a prisoner was not so much freedom, as opportunity. The early months at the gaol saw a considerable amount of mail arriving, with large deliveries in May, August, September and October. The mail itself was postmarked with dates varying from four to twelve months previously. In August 1944, the Japanese also issued another of their infrequent blank postcards, the fourth in 30 months.61 The Japanese received 9,725 completed cards to be posted.62 As well as these traditional forms of communication, the Japanese also allowed 500 wireless messages to be sent to destinations within the British Empire. Priority for these cards was given to men who had as yet received no communication with home.63 The IJA also agreed that letters might be sent to patients in the relocated POW hospital at Kranji. As well as sending wireless messages, 400 incoming messages were received from the BBC transmitters in Delhi and distributed to personnel.64 Major Shean was happy at the prospect of more mail: The best piece of news for some time is the arrival of 70 bags of mail. It is almost all old stuff (about June–Sept. 1943) but with any luck will be letters instead of messages and at any rate any word from home is welcome.65 The arrival of letters did not mean that they would be distributed with any speed. The Japanese insistence on censorship inevitably took time to complete, generally at least ‘several weeks’, and many letters were also destroyed by the censors.66 As well as postcards and letters from home, POWs occasionally received wireless messages or even telegrams, a fact that provoked a twinge of resentment from Major Shean: ‘Several people are still getting radio message via New Delhi and I can’t understand why A. hasn’t managed to get one off . . . The beauty of them is that they are up to date and one can send a reply.’67 Major Gillies was one of the

150 Changi gaol: May 1944–September 1945 fortunate few to receive just such a message. Its arrival marked what he considered: the great[est] day of my captivity and at last I feel reasonably easy in my mind about you. Your cable (or radio message – I haven’t found out yet which it is) came this morning so now I know that you were fit and well – or at least all right – six weeks ago. You’ve no idea – or perhaps you have! – What a relief it has been to get it . . . So far all recipients have been allowed to send a reply but when I asked today I was told that they don’t know yet about this batch.68 In addition to individual messages, evidence of group transmissions have also survived. Changi Gaol Camp order No. 132, ‘Communication’, features three such collective radio messages received by the Japanese authorities and passed on. They were: To: Men of the 2/40 Battalion. Message: Your wives, mothers, sweethearts and friends have received your messages. We think of you always and [are] preparing for your release. To: R.A.N. Friendly Union. Message: sailors, wives, mothers of all naval units send greetings. Always thinking of you and looking forward to reunion. Keep chins up. God bless you all. To: The men of the 4th Anti-Tank Regiment. Message: Wives, mothers, relatives send loving message of good cheer. We are safe and well. Praying and hoping for a speedy reunion. Till then keep stout hearts.69 The practice of POWs sending wireless messages may have been a hit-and-miss practice; however, these messages frequently made their way to the intended recipients. Lt. Clancy sent a message from Changi that was received by the BBC. Clancy’s wife, at home in England, got two letters containing the text of his transmission, the first from the British Red Cross: On June 2nd 1944, the following message was broadcast from Radio Singapore. Unfortunately, reception was very poor, but we believe the message was sent by your husband, and we are sending it to you as we received it from the BBC Monitoring service:‘From Lt. D.J. (Cadby?) 2nd. Bn. Cambs. Regt. No.151 (0?)23, British prisoner of war in Malaya, to Mrs (Cadby?) . . . ‘“Many thanks for letters received. (Several inaudible sentences . . .) (Barker?) is keeping poultry, others are keen gardeners. Keep smiling, don’t worry (. . . . . . ?) next message. All my love, Jimmy.”’

Changi gaol: May 1944–September 1945 151 We are sure you will realise that we cannot guarantee the authenticity of this message, and as it is undated, it may have been recorded some time ago, but we are sending it to you in case you have nothing of it from any other source.70 Clancy himself said that he tried to mention as many names of men still alive as POWs from his unit as possible so as to provide those at home with some news of their fate.71 The extent to which the POWs at Changi were truly isolated from the outside was, in fact, less than it might appear. While individual mail was infrequent and unreliable and the sending of mail doubly so, the POWs were well provided for with accurate and up-to-date news about the world and the war via a number of secret radios. These had been present in the camp from the beginning of captivity and, despite many searches, had never been discovered. In fact at the end of 1942, the exact date is unclear, the POWs had the courage and audacity to transmit information about ‘significant Japanese convoy movements’, for which they apparently received an ‘acknowledgement’ from Allied reception stations.72 In July of 1943 the AIF issued a lengthy, and very conspicuous, order expressly forbidding either the ‘possession or control’ of a radio set or any ‘attempt to manufacture, repair or assemble any wireless set’.73 Lt. Orr remarked that the discovery by the POW authorities of an illicit wireless led those responsible to be ‘severely reprimanded’.74 The dissemination of news was comprehensive, and its content had to be sufficiently detailed to satisfy the POWs but not so well informed that the Japanese would discover that additional information was being received. A printed bulletin, comprising a synopsis of important events, was circulated around the camp and by April 1943 ran to four pages.75 Concerns over security implications eventually led to the replacement of this method by a verbal form in December 1943.76 The extraordinary thing about the radios, apart from their ceaseless function, was that their presence was never mentioned directly in diary commentaries and rarely alluded to. On 16 May Major Shean commented: ‘nothing much to say except of course the amazingly blasé way we’ve accepted the strong rumour that Germany is out’.77 He qualified this by asserting that ‘parties on the aerodrome have brought us Red Hot tips that all European troubles over. Nobody has got very excited largely I think because we’ve been expecting it for so long and also because we don’t know details and in fact don’t know for sure if its true.’78 Only towards the end of 1944 did Major Gillies hint, somewhat clumsily, that something might be untowards. On 18 August he wrote: ‘Locally there appears to be little change. It is rumoured that there is going to be another search of the camp for wireless sets. Such an idea! As if there could possibly be such things in a POW camp after two and a half years.’79 Gillies’s motivation for this entry was obviously an attempt to convince the Japanese, were they to capture and read his diary, that there were in fact absolutely no radios in the camp whatsoever. The diary of an anonymous Australian officer, in his post-Japanese surrender entries, comments on the effect of the wireless sets. He believed that ‘the one thing

152 Changi gaol: May 1944–September 1945 that kept us going was our wireless news service. I have never mentioned this before as it wasn’t safe if this diary was ever taken by the Japs, but as we are now on the way home it can be brought to light’: Right through out the whole period of our captivity there were secret radio sets working under officers’ sanction from our own people. They were, of course, strictly forbidden by the Japs and had they been found I don’t think there is any doubt that a few people would have lost there heads as happened in both Thailand and Borneo, but the secret was well kept and actually not more than a handful of people ever really knew where the sets were or who operated them, but the news was disseminated by word of mouth every afternoon by a sort of chain system, each officer concerned passing it on to 6 or 8 others and so on down to small groups, so that we all knew what was happening day to day. Life without our daily news service would have been harder than ever to bear; even so the last six months was very dreary and got us down a good deal.80 The men at Changi were thus acutely aware of the course of the war throughout their time in captivity. Many of the wildest rumours that circulated were spread deliberately in order to provide a degree of cover for the real origins of the news. Being aware of Allied victories, and Japanese setbacks, while good for morale, could do nothing to make the time pass more quickly, nor to do anything about the prevailing conditions. In fact, as the last months of the war took their course, the knowledge that Japan was in retreat, but that conditions at Changi were simultaneously worsening and the unpredictable Japanese more ill-tempered as a result, probably contributed to a diminution of morale. While the extent of what the POWs knew at any one time is impossible to ascertain, they were still not averse to acting on collective rumours, in much the same way that had been apparent in the early weeks of captivity, a time when the methods of news dissemination was far less sophisticated. At the end of the 1944 the camp authorities had once again been obliged to dampen down enthusiasm for the prospect of repatriation, which was the subject of ‘numerous’ rumours. On this occasion the camp order read: ‘All that has occurred in this connection is that an enquiry has been made by the IJA as to whether the repatriation list is up to date. This has occurred on several previous occasions.’81

Christmas 1944 Christmas 1944 would prove to be the final one in captivity. It was characterised by a general surfeit of food, carefully hoarded during the previous months for just this occasion. This in itself was an achievement and a triumph of the POWs’ organisational ability, as the preceding months had seen food supplies drop dramatically as well as having additional burdens imposed by the return of upcountry parties. As well as the ample food on Christmas day this celebration was generally a useful indicator of morale in the camp, as thoughts were of families and home. Lt. Orr wrote:

Changi gaol: May 1944–September 1945 153 Dec. 21. Last Xmas we thought that we would be free by Xmas 1944. Now, however people are not certain of anything and are not game to express a date – it is too uncertain. Dec. 25. A great day, a happy day, a day when our stomachs were for once full to capacity . . .82 Orr was not alone in this feeling. Captain Rogers also had a good Christmas: We had been saving food for some time and had also put in a couple of dollars per head, but although the food was well turned out, considering that 99 per cent of it was rice, there was really too much to eat. By the way, I never thought that those words would pass my lips while I was in here but there you are. It was the same throughout the camp, for everywhere there was too much. Still I suppose that it is infinitely to be preferred to too little. In fact everywhere one went . . . cigars were thrust at one from all angles – an unheard of state of affairs.83 Captain Horner also had enjoyed his time at Christmas: Christmas day has come and gone – Unpleasantly full but conscious of having passed surely my last Christmas away from my loved one. The cookhouse did us very well – starting with tea and a doughnut ring at 0800, breakfast at 0900 consisted of porridge, fried whitebait with fried veg. fried bread and lime marmalade. 1100 coffee and shortbread. 1300 Tiffin – Bayan soup, veg curry, mock apple tart, bread and cheese. 1600 tea and Xmas cake. Dinner – hors d’oeuvres, towgay soup, pork pie, fried veg. Xmas pudding, cheese and biscuits, coffee. At 2100 tea with mince pie. The pork was from the canteen at $20 per lb – we bought 7lb and it made quite a good flavour. The cheese was some cartons of gorgonzola that were discovered in a ‘go-down’ at the docks and had been there since the capitulation. Too rancid for Nip consumption we got it and smeared on bread and biscuits it made a nice change.84 The description of the food consumed served to remind the diarists what they had eaten and in doing so enabled them to relive the event, when food was not so plentiful. Major Braganza had similar comments to make on Christmas: Xmas day. Thought only of home and I got prepared for one of the worst days but somehow the spirit was good all around and everyone automatically forgot all depression and worry and let themselves in to the festivities which consisted of a big breakfast, a big lunch and a bigger dinner all of which is wrong as all it succeeded in doing was making a lot of people sick due to overeating rice and rice products and beans. I attended midnight mass and was surprised at the huge attendance.85

154 Changi gaol: May 1944–September 1945 The POWs at Changi, having just experienced several months of upheaval and shortages, showed that, despite many problems, when the camp pulled together, as they generally did at Christmas times, they were still capable of overcoming most obstacles; 1945, however, would test their collective resolve.

1945 The last year of captivity would prove to be the most arduous of all, physically and psychologically. Increasing pressure on Japanese lines of communication meant that, by August 1945, the food situation in Singapore was approaching crisis point, with the POWs amongst the lowest priorities for the Japanese. In combination with the appreciable decline in available rations, the Japanese continued to tighten their grip on the camp and its inhabitants. While this was a reflection of the Japanese position in the wider conflict in the Far East, it was also conditioned by a growing loss of patience with the POWs themselves. The implications of this may be seen in the gradual withdrawal of minor privileges and, later, by what may be construed as direct attempts to make life uncomfortable. The reasons for this may well lie with the deteriorating Japanese position in the war as a whole, but also seems to have been prompted by the behaviour of the POWs. The POW body was initially treated with indifference in the early, post-surrender days, but by 1945 the ongoing resilience of the prisoners appears to have frustrated their captors and provoked them into a variety of petty sanctions designed to maintain ‘face’. The year 1945 began with the Japanese authorities granting another of what they termed a general camp ‘holiday’, for 1 January. This, however, did not apply to the men working on the ground-levelling party, who were still obliged to do a full day’s work, and is perhaps suggestive of the realities of the Japanese military position.86 For Captain Horner, at least, life was not yet unbearable. He noted down a brief vignette of his typical day: 1 January 1945. Perhaps a quick survey of myself and conditions might not be out of place here – roughly my day consists of: – Rising at 0830, shave and shower before breakfast at 0900. Usually spend mornings rehearsing or on some job connected with the theatre or ward shows. Tiffin at 1300, afternoon either lie on my bed or if there is a call, rehearsing. Shower and change between 5 and 6, supper at 1800. Evening spent either with a show or visiting friends or reading. Lights out at 2300. George Booker comes round at 2230 or thereabouts and we usually sit outside talking or smoking until midnight or later.87 Major Gillies felt that he had displayed considerable naïveté in the early weeks after the surrender: ‘and now we are into our fourth year of captivity. Ye gods! And I thought perhaps six weeks would set us free, three years ago! Appalling optimism.’88 This period of captivity was to see the conflict between the individual and the collective at its most intense and most overt. As conditions became progressively worse, so the POWs were obliged to examine and prioritise all areas

Changi gaol: May 1944–September 1945 155 where food was either produced or distributed in order to maximise resources. Even the collection and distribution of what was termed ‘swill’ was forbidden without prior and approved authority, and under no circumstances was this to be used for human consumption.89 The swill itself was now to be fed exclusively to poultry being kept to provide eggs for hospital personnel. This instruction was issued in tandem with warnings against the feeding of ‘private’ poultry with rice from the main rice ration.90 The idea of one for all was not always appreciated, as Major Gillies demonstrated: The ducks are still doing pretty well for us but we are having to give up half our birds to the hospital. For some time now we have been giving 10% of our production of eggs but as this wasn’t as much as the hospital needed we were asked to devise some scheme to increase the supply, and this is the answer. Rather heavy blow but in spite of the fact that we are here because of our efforts to preserve democracy, we are ruled here (by our own people) very much in the style of the dictatorships and so have no real say in matters of this nature.91 Even after the matter had been finally settled, following the ‘donation’ of birds to the hospital poultry farm, instead of an ongoing supply of eggs, Gillies still seemed bitter. He noted: ‘I was always under the impression that we were fighting this particular war to put a stop to totalitarianism but that evidently doesn’t apply to this particular POW camp.’92 While conflicts between the haves and havenots had always been a bone of contention, most diarists had moderated their complaints about helping out less fortunate prisoners. Now, with every possible commodity in short supply, charitable feelings, while still apparent, were far less evident. While the camp struggled over the amount of available food available, the Japanese compounded the prisoner’s problems by finally suspending all entertainment: Gen. Saito has ordered cessation of all activities at the playhouse! as the present show has ‘bad thoughts’ first the order was that the whole theatre should be pulled down tomorrow, but this order has now been countermanded and we await further details.93 Lt.-Col. Holmes, however, thought that this action was ‘sufficient comment on the morale of the camp’, as Major-General Saito had announced that he found the prisoners too ‘arrogant’.94 The actions of a few continued to have wider repercussions. At this late stage, some POWs began trying to escape once more. Their actions were not appreciated by their fellow prisoners: Another man has escaped. This has meant that all entertainment’s [sic] and bathing are suspended again. On 11th June the IJA allowed us to go back

156 Changi gaol: May 1944–September 1945 bathing again. On 13th June IJA allowed us to start entertainments again in the coconut theatre. This has made a wonderful difference to us. The gaol theatre was not allowed to open again.95 These restrictions were disappointing for all concerned, but their actual impact on the POWs was partially alleviated by the widespread realisation that they were imposed in an attempt to subdue their spirit. This became obvious with supplementary Japanese instructions that ‘though entertainments of a modified order are allowed, applause is taboo’. Major Shean could only comment: ‘I feel rather sorry for the artists who at the end of a good turn are greeted with stony silence from the audience.’96 Lt. Orr remarked that the Japanese attended a concert party ‘to see whether there was anything wrong with it. Took exception to a white man overcoming an Asiatic girl in a dance.’97 In fact all concerned could take heart from the knowledge that, irrespective of the true state of POW morale, they were still perceived by their captors as being in the highest of spirits and thus were able to strike another positive blow in the ongoing captor and captive struggle. The Japanese, secure in their position as victors in Malaya and Singapore, had occupied an apparently unassailable position in terms of moral superiority over their ‘white’ captives. While they did have trouble, apparently, coming to terms with the apparent lack of shame exhibited by their captives, this appeared not to have been a problem, initially. Japanese confidence had broken down markedly over time and by this point it was obvious that the Japanese were keen to reassert their authority. In March 1945, therefore, the Japanese once again demanded that all POWs at Changi sign parole forms pledging that they would refrain from attempting to escape. These new forms were dated 17 March 1944. Lt.-Col. Newey was informed that the necessity of all to sign was in response to a direct Japanese order.98 Lt.-Col. Galleghan stated that ‘the Japanese order to sign in this case was not resisted, as the issue had been determined in September 1942 [and] the declaration was in the same form as previously’.99 This was partially true, no doubt, but probably owed as much to the general health of the men as to anything else. Once again the fact that the Japanese appeared to need this reassurance was an important psychological boost to the POWs. Even now, the Japanese were not completely sure of their ability to maintain discipline and might well have been seeking another ‘incident’ of the Selarang type to assert their authority. The refusal of the POWs to make another stand removed this opportunity and also demonstrated an inherent confidence in their present position. Diary accounts of this period are, predictably, full of extensive references to weight and weight loss, and this undoubtedly coloured and shaped the prisoners’ responses to all eventualities. Lt. Orr had problems with British troops over food and its equitable, or otherwise, distribution: 196 Fd. Amb. (British) have published a magazine called ‘Sign of the times’. In it they have two scurrilous articles, one called ‘Advance Australia’ and the other is a libellous statement against myself. I had the editor Cpl Carter paraded to me and gave him a piece of my mind. I told him I wanted a public

Changi gaol: May 1944–September 1945 157 apology or I would have him up for libel. (*the English in their article accused me by snide remarks that I had been giving more food to Australians than the British – ever difficult people when hungry – I was particularly careful about all these things and rationed distribution of rice etc. very carefully – also my cooking staff.100 After achieving a resolution to this particular problem, Orr was still encountering problems a few months later and he thought that the situation was ‘a great study in human nature, the way people have become over food’: they look at each grain of rice, they spy on one another to see that one does not get any more than another. Anybody in charge of food is in an invidious position – purely a coconut shy for everyone.101 Weight loss in the camp was general and frequently extensive, Sowter noting that he lost 3 lb between 5 and 21 April alone.102 The arrival of Red Cross supplies was a relief and, while obviously insufficient to even begin to provide a solution to all the dietary needs at Changi, it was able to provide a modicum of much needed food and drugs as well as, most importantly, supplying another boost in morale at a particularly low point. Despite this, the debilitating effects of the diminishing diet were increasingly apparent. Major Shean was a witness to the following disturbing incident: 6 April. Awful stir last night, some chap destroyed by electricity his own pet monkey as he was unable to feed it. He was followed all round the camp by a host of hungry chaps trying to buy the copse and eat it. Sentiment wouldn’t let the owner sell the cadaver and he didn’t dare bury it because he knew it would be exhumed and ate [sic]. I believe he had to wait until nightfall and then smuggle the body away to some dark and secret spot of burial! So even our hunger brings a lot of humour into our lives.103 The extent of the food shortage may be gauged from the above activities, as well as from the consumption of a whole range of wildlife which included the catching and eating of sparrows which were boiled, then fried, and in fact ‘tasted delicious’ according to a friend of Staff Sergeant Burrey. Even though hunger was proving to be a great leveller, Burrey could still comment disdainfully on the newly acquired Dutch habit of eating rats. Despite the shortages Burrey thought that there was ‘no excuse for stooping that low’.104 Lt. Orr was also pondering the food situation and ambiguously commented that ‘cats and dogs were now a luxury’; whether he meant as pets or as a meal is unclear. In November 1943 there had been so many dogs at Changi that instructions were issued that all litters of new-born animals were to be destroyed, ‘except one male pup’. The problem was so severe that ‘disciplinary action’ was threatened ‘against persons disobeying this order’.105 All over Changi, men were feeling the dual strain of the war and shortages as never before. As well as the dwindling food supplies, other elements of life were

158 Changi gaol: May 1944–September 1945 also beginning to break down. Even the grass-crushing machine that had worked continually for the previous 18 months, to produce the vitamin substitute from lalang grass, had broken down and was in need of repairs of a nature not available to the POWs.106 In February 1945 the Japanese introduced a new ration scale, corresponding to heavy duty, light duty and no duty. Together with this came orders that the pooling of rations must now cease completely in order that all entitled to the ‘heavy’ ration portion receive their amount in full.107 This stipulation was to ensure that those labouring for the Japanese on the aerodrome were in a position to continue to do so. These rules had widespread and unfortunate effects on the weakened population, especially upon the sick and recuperating men who were already receiving very little in the way of food. Their chances of a complete return to health were effectively compromised. Only if they struggled out to work could they obtain more food, but the benefits were, obviously, offset by the rigours of hard physical work.108 A camp census in February documented the declining health of the POWs: Table 1: Weight Loss of POWs by Nationality Nationality

Nos.

Average Weight.

British Australian USA Dutch others

4166 3846 51 1010 54

61.026 (134lbs) 61.624 (136lbs) 63.564 (140lbs) 62.287 (137lbs) 64.876 (143lbs)

Total

9127

61.450 (135lbs) average loss .342kgs109

The same census, just a month later in March, saw the average weight loss rise to 1.136kgs.110 The manpower situation was as follows: Table 2: POW Numbers at Changi Gaol by Fitness Classification

Fit Men (Heavy duty-Ground levelling P Party in Singapore) Unfit – (Light Duty-gardens) medical duties Unfit (Domestic duties) No work Total

Offrs.

O.R.s

Total

294 299 118 357 179

1946 2329 643 2851 170

2240 2628 761 3208 349

1247

7939

9186111

As can be seen from the figures in Table 2, the number of unfit POWs was far in excess of those deemed fit. In addition, while the rations fell, the work schedule

Changi gaol: May 1944–September 1945 159 increased; this suggested that the proportion of unfit to fit men would only grow, as well as the possibility that the Japanese, as the pressure to complete the aerodrome increased, would be obliged to use unfit men for its construction in much the same way as had happened in Burma and Thailand. From April 1945 only Wednesday would be set aside for a half-day holiday and Sunday would, henceforth, now be a full working day.112 The ill-temper of the Japanese through this period is evident, and the response to continued trouble from the POWs was even firmer Japanese action. In fact this provided another source of friction amongst the POWs themselves. Lt.-Col. Newey, from his appointment in July 1944, made it clear that he intended to tighten up discipline at Changi and to that end immediately opened up correction cells in which to detain offenders. This caused outrage among the Australian contingent.113 In January 1945: the R.O. [Representative Officer, Lt.-Col. Newey] commenced placing soldiers, including AIF, in ‘protective custody’ whereby what were described as ‘incorrigibles, thieves, and offenders against Camp Orders’ were restrained in the gaol area for an indefinite period. Treatment in the correction cells included the Japanese punishment of standing for long periods. All punishments included solitary confinement and long periods of standing.114 After a crime was committed, the resulting sentence imposed upon individuals found guilty was promulgated in the form of camp orders. Many of these orders have survived. Captain Wilkinson’s diary contains a number that he transcribed into the text: Camp Order No. 258. 12 Feb. 1945 is also of interest – ‘The Camp Commandant has today sentenced E.C. 3902 Lt. J I Smith, 2/1 Gurkhas to 3 days solitary confinement under IJA conditions for: a. Irregularities during a ‘brown out.’ b. Playing a musical instrument on an unauthorised day. The conditions were being locked in a cell in the jail without any bedding of any description and receiving one meal per day! Camp order 251 states ‘. . . to undergo 21 days in the correction cells followed by 21 days restrictions for obtaining extra food from Company messing point.’ ‘to undergo 28 days solitary punishment in the correction cells followed by 28 days restrictions for being in possession of rations of a working party of which he was the cook.’ These punishments are those of our own camp representative officer (Lt. Col. Newey) and are the type of punishments given out in the camp today to try and cut out crimes of this nature.115

160 Changi gaol: May 1944–September 1945 Wilkinson’s comments, together with the fact that he recorded these incidents in full, are evidence of the distaste he felt at the treatment of prisoners by their own officers. Newey’s tenure as Representative Officer was soon to end. In July 1945 Lt. Takahashi left his position as Japanese commandant. He was replaced by Lt. Muira. The departure of Takahashi prompted Major Shean to write: ‘personally I think this is a pity. He really did all he could for us . . . and he’d be a good chap to have around when the balloon went up.’116 At the same time, Lt.-Col. Newey also left his position, confirming, in the minds of many, the relationship between Takahashi and Newey. Lt.-Col. Dillon, Royal Artillery, replaced Newey and, in the remaining weeks of the war, acted with considerable reference to both Holmes and Galleghan. Ironically, Newey’s departure brought him considerably less sympathy than that directed towards that of the Japanese officer, Takahashi, with Major Shean writing that ‘the only good thing arising from his [Takahashi’s] departure is that arch-bastard Newey has also resigned’.117 Newey himself sent a revealing letter home to his son in the aftermath of the Japanese surrender: Then after a time I was representative officer of the camp here, not as senior officer but because the Japs said everyone else was unacceptable to them. Not a pleasant job I can assure you. I packed that up several months ago and have since rested on my laurels, if any. Taking responsibility in those conditions was not easy and one made enemies. However now that we are free I hope that sanity will return and we will forget all about it. Actually life in the Changi camp was not unpleasant really and we managed to keep the Japs from excesses.118 While Newey was keen to forget his time in captivity, his role in the last months of the war was under some scrutiny. Galleghan submitted to Holmes a ‘confidential’ report entitled, ‘Conduct of Lt. Col. T.H. Newey Whilst “Representative Officer”’. This report summarised Newey’s actions and breaches of military law, as understood by Galleghan. Galleghan concluded his report with: [The report] is submitted to assist you [Holmes] in deciding what action should be taken as a matter of principal. Should further action be contemplated, additional information as to the above and additional actions to which exception is taken will be advanced by me on request.119 While Galleghan asserted in his ‘Interim Report’ that ‘Lt. Col. Newey is the subject of charges as a result of his activities during the period he was Representative Officer’, and despite post-war War Office declarations that many courts martial and promotions at Changi were ‘illegal’, there is no evidence to suggest that Holmes ever acted on Galleghan’s recommendations with regard to Newey.120

Changi gaol: May 1944–September 1945 161

August 1945: the Japanese surrender While the senior officers squabbled and while food supplies fell to an all-time low, the Second World War was drawing to a conclusion. On 14 August Japan finally surrendered, bringing the war to an end. For the men at Changi, this event was the culmination of three and a half years of hoping. Their response to the final realisation of such a long-held dream was, as ever, far from predictable. Captain Horner revealed more than his joy when he recorded the end of the war in his diary on 11 August: It’s over over over – having an early breakfast at 0745 when news came in that to all intents and purposes the end had arrived . . . oh god it’s just too good to be true, I feel I can blether on ad infinitum to feel that in the near future I’ll be free of these filthy little yellow swine, I never thought I could loathe anyone so much as I hate them and how I’ve longed to write that down in the past but have had to go carefully in case they were to discover this diary. Mistakes have been made in the past on that score – also about wireless news – what a joy to be able to write down that we’ve had the news all this time.121 The end of the war, however, meant no end to captivity, in the short term at least. There was as yet no sign of the incoming British forces, and in the wake of the eventual Japanese acknowledgement of the surrender the POWs were once again left in a state of limbo, not really prisoners any longer but as yet without the trappings of freedom. Ironically, this was not dissimilar to their experiences in the aftermath of their own surrender. The relief engendered by the news of the Japanese surrender brought with it problems of its own. Captain Horner noted that ‘people very irritable, having bottled up likes and dislikes for months, this extra strain finds them venting their spleen when previously they would have held themselves in’.122 The Japanese were unaware that their captives were at least as well informed of developments in the wider world as they themselves were. The Japanese failure to admit to the POWs that peace was inevitable is perhaps understandable, but they maintained a similar silence even after the war was officially over. This bizarre situation obliged the POWs to continue to pretend that they still did not know that the war had indeed ended. Captain Horner, by now making no effort to conceal the extent of his information, to his diary at least, found the situation to be incredibly frustrating: this is farcical, here we know all about the negotiations etc. and as there’s no intimation from the Nips, we have to carry on as usual. I’m on a wood trailer again tomorrow. Still they say good times are coming! SE Asia Command say ‘Don’t aggravate guards as they don’t know.’123 This situation continued, even after the Japanese Commandant, Muira, held a meeting of senior Allied officers and ordered the cessation of working parties.

162 Changi gaol: May 1944–September 1945 Horner, not a party to the meeting, wrote that ‘as far as we can find out, no mention of the end of the war [at the meeting], so the farce continued’.124 Lt. Orr was well aware of all external developments, and by now also made little effort to conceal the extent of his knowledge, even writing in his diary: ‘August 11th, told peace has been declared. We must keep it quiet so as not to cause any incidents.’125 Staff Sergeant Burrey was employed on a working party outside of Changi. He had a similar experience: 12 Aug. Sunday . . . have just read in yesterday’s paper where Russia is at war with Japan. On top of this startling news one of our chaps has just arrived back from Kranji hospital and was given the news to pass on to us by a Fld. officer that Japan signed peace terms this morning. It’s too colossal to believe and yet I feel it is true. If true I am a free man at this very moment. Oh god I pray this is the truth. How wonderful for my dear folks at home. Orders are to carry normally for the next ten days. Surely there will be confirmation of this news in a day or two.126 Private W. Sowter was more relaxed, writing on 16 August that ‘we know we are free but we are still waiting for our troops to arrive. Well, a few days are not much after three and a half years.’127 Horner was still concerned a couple of days later: And so a week has gone by since we first got the news that the Japs had agreed to unconditional surrender. The longest seven days of my life, up one day, down the next, having difficulty in concentration. Now I have decided the only sane course is to wait patiently and take it as it comes, impatience is foolish and only leads to shortened temper.128 For Staff Sergeant Burrey, working outside Changi, and consequently removed from the latest news, was still able to work out the position of events: 17 Aug. It’s now about 7pm and for the first time I am convinced the show is over. Came in from the Job suddenly this afternoon bringing all the tools and accompanied by two extra guards. All guards packing up at camp nearby and double guards on the camp. Oh how wonderful. How wonderful for my dear folks at home. Have just been advised by Nip in charge here that ‘owing to slippery nature of ground and liability of accidents here will be no work tomorrow.’ What a laugh! The buggers in the past have taken no greater delight than when they see you plodding through the mud.129 Finally, the Japanese did admit that the war was over. This general recognition brought with it relief, rather than any overt demonstrations of joy. It also brought dismay. Once the news of the surrender was widespread, the Japanese proceeded to distribute large quantities of Red Cross parcels which had not been delivered and which had been kept in storage. Captain Horner voiced what most, no doubt were thinking, as the scale of the undelivered stores became apparent:

Changi gaol: May 1944–September 1945 163 20 August. More and more parcels continue to arrive, it’s said that 47,000 are coming in today (American) are believed to be from Sime road, issue of 1944. I wonder how many lives would have been saved had the yellow swine allowed this up to us before. 21 August. Japs are amazing, after months of short rations etc. they are now delivering fresh pork, fish, wheat flour, eggs and clothes – do they really think our memories are so short that this is going to make us forget.130 This sentiment was echoed by many men and revealed a residue of bitterness that had not been apparent before, for obvious reasons: Shifted back into old hut today. News bulletins come through numerous times each day – very confusing and conflicting reports. Have been issued with many new clothes. Millions of articles of clothing have come into camp during the past few days yet previous to this the Nips repeatedly told us there was no new clothing to be had. Just another one of many crimes committed by them.131 Lt. Orr also witnessed Japanese anti-aircraft fire directed at Allied aircraft as late as 18 August, prompting him to consider that ‘this is a stupid war’. Orr also thought that ‘of the last years this past week has been the worst’.132 Captain Rogers, whose diary through August 1945 contains no reference whatsoever to the events of the surrender, could only write on 24 August that, ‘this week has been simply awful’: the nervous tension, the peculiar strain everyone is under, the rumours the doubts, suspicions and hopes have combined to produce a psychological mixture that has never I should think been equalled. I know that I am very nearly a wreck and even the most phlegmatic of us are having definite reactions.133 Rogers, too, was sombre for a variety of reasons. He noted that: chaps are dying now from no apparent cause, just the culmination of three and a half years of privation and hardship. There is one ward in the hospital containing sixty men under six stone in weight and the average weight of the whole crowd is under 100 pounds. So with my 135 pounds I feel a positive giant.134 The long years of captivity had indeed eroded reserves of strength, and the relief that the news of the surrender brought prompted a genuine relaxation that proved fatal for some. This, hand in hand with misguided bingeing on Red Cross rations, brought several deaths as well as prompting an occurrence of mental illness amongst the POWs.135 The surreal elements of life at Changi did not end with the surrender. Extraordinarily, a camp order was issued on 16 August concerning ‘Copyright’:

164 Changi gaol: May 1944–September 1945 Camp Order No. 415, ‘Copyright’ dated 16 Aug. 1945 The attention of all ranks is drawn to the fact that the copyright (i.e. the right to reproduce) of all songs, compositions, drawing, plans, lectures and other works which have been performed, drawn, produced or otherwise published in this camp is the property of the author or composer and may not be performed, printed or otherwise published without his consent in writing.136 Captain Wilkinson was keen to assert his own intellectual property rights: So far as I am concerned, the above order affects (a) The article I wrote for ‘Exile’ on ‘Radio Plays’ (b) the short story I wrote for ‘Exile’ called ‘Paul at Sea’ about the Norfolk broads and (c) the one act play I wrote . . . called ‘The Lost Cause’ of which there are two complete copies in the camp somewhere apart from the ones Willis and I each possess.137 The trials and tribulations of the final weeks proved to be as arduous as any of the events in the previous three years. Lt.-Col. Holmes summed up the difficult time of August and early September when he wrote: Magnificent as was the behaviour of all ranks over the dark periods of Salarang [sic], Thailand and the long periods of overwork and underfeeding it was surpassed by the patience and restraint showed at the time of release. At any time incidents were likely to occur but the ugliest situations were avoided by the common sense and good humour of all.138 The landing of six British soldiers presaged the arrival of Allied troops by parachute on the aerodrome. They assumed nominal command of the camp, although the Japanese continued to mount guards over key installations. The arrival of these men had a curious effect on some of the POWs. While the prisoners had worked hard to create an outward appearance of restrained defiance towards their captors and had succeeded in convincing the Japanese of their ‘arrogance’, the arrival of these soldiers, the confident representatives of a victorious army, put the captive/ captor relationship at Changi firmly into perspective. Captain Horner was surprised to realise that: it is amazing what an inferiority complex seeing these fellows gives one – we have all noticed it and it makes one wonder what our reactions are going to be like when we are free. It’s only natural I suppose, the Nips to them are a beaten and inferior army – to us they have been our oppressors, Lords and masters for 31⁄2 years.139 If any single event could be celebrated as a conclusive victory for the POWs, excepting of course the fact of their survival, then it was probably the ongoing ability to receive radio messages. Major Shean finally mentioned the existence of this service in September and was as keen as most diarists to illustrate the

Changi gaol: May 1944–September 1945 165 ingenuity and bravado that had maintained it, and that ‘in spite of numerous Jap. searches, the death penalty, lack of equipment etc. we have hardly had a day without a full news bulletin’.140 Another pleasing event was the issuing of yet another Routine Order concerned with ‘Compliments’ to the Japanese. In this instance RO No. 420 stated that ‘With effect from 2 Sept. 1945 compliments will NOT be paid to Japanese guards’.141 This instruction signified that the end was really in sight. Eventually, the British returned to Singapore in force bringing with them the Repatriation of Allied Prisoners of War and Internees organisation, RAPWI. This force, unused to the realities of Singapore, was resented by the prisoners who rechristened it ‘Retain all Prisoners of War Indefinitely’ after it became obvious that their departure was not to be immediate. On 9 September Lt.-Col. Holmes issued his final order: Special Order by Lt. Col. E.B. Holmes, MC Changi 1. At long last Changi and other prisoner of war camps will, very shortly be no more. 2. We have passed through stirring and anxious times together and I now wish to take this opportunity of thanking you all for your splendid spirit, your behaviour, your constant cheerfulness and the way in which you have kept up your morale and a united front against the Japanese, in spite of all the dangers and difficulties. 3. I find it difficult to express adequately my feelings at your magnificent response to all that I have asked. Your discretion, patience and sound common sense, especially during the last four weeks have filled me with admiration. 4. I shall, in due course, represent to Higher Authority (for transmission where necessary to our respective governments) my appreciation of your services. 5. I wish to pay special tribute to the cordiality and good relations that have existed between the troops of the various parts of the Empire and between the many nationalities and the various services we represent. 6. We will not forget those of our comrades that we shall leave behind here and upcountry for ever. 7. I wish you all a safe, happy and speedy journey back to your dear ones wherever they may be. Sgd. E.B. Holmes, Col., Commanding POW Malaya, September 9 1945.142 It was not until 29 September that Captain Wilkinson began his journey back to Britain. He along with many POWs departed on the Polish merchant vessel, Sobietsky, the very same ship that had brought them to Malaya three long years before.

9

Conclusions: bowed but not broken

Life at the Changi POW camp was very different to the standard perceptions of Japanese-run POW camps, dominated as such notions are by images of brutality, starvation and death. Those men who managed to avoid the railway altogether, or indeed other destinations in either Japan itself or the ‘co-prosperity’ sphere, and spent their entire time as POWs at Changi were indeed fortunate by comparison with many of their comrades. Despite this, it must be remembered that conditions did deteriorate appreciably at Changi, and that, irrespective of the many imaginative efforts of the prisoners themselves, nothing could really reverse the worst manifestations of an inadequate diet except additional food supplies. The results meant that by the end of the war the condition of many POWs resembled the worst that the railway had to offer in terms of skeletal frames and emaciation. The POW community was fortunate that the lowest ebb of short rations and medical supplies existed for such a comparatively short duration and that the war came to a timely end before the situation became irreversible. That the death rates at Changi were relatively low is due to a number of considerations. Firstly, conditions, while frequently harsh, were generally never life threatening until the latter stages of the war. To a considerable extent, this was due to the POWs’ own efforts. Their initiatives, whether they be the garden scheme, the manufacture of vitamin extract or the enforced consumption of rice polishings, appear to have made the difference in terms of being able to exist on a low calorific scale. These efforts, however, served only to ameliorate the worst effects of their situation and never to address it fundamentally. Physiological considerations apart, Changi managed to keep going in the manner it did largely because of the vibrant community that had developed within the camp. After the fall of Singapore and the strategic disaster that the Singapore surrender confirmed, the positive adjustment to captivity underwent by the POWs could hardly have been predicted: the apparently unimpressive soldiers reconstituted themselves as highly impressive captives, displaying considerable levels of discipline and resilience. The Japanese certainly seemed surprised by their captives’ behaviour. Frequent references to the POWs being ‘prisoners’ and not ‘soldiers’, with all the implications of that distinction in the minds of the Japanese, suggest that they themselves had anticipated a defeated army would demonstrate a far greater degree of subservience. Indeed, deference of this type generally

Conclusions: bowed but not broken 167 characterised the behaviour of Japanese troops taken prisoner during the Second World War and was particularly apparent after the Japanese surrender in 1945. Japanese incredulity at the stubborn POW resistance during the prolonged Selarang incident was, therefore, unsurprising. If, in the Japanese mind, the greater the defeat of arms the greater the degree of deference then the response of the defenders of Singapore must have proved doubly surprising. Contemporary evidence suggests that it is a mistake to rely too heavily on government and higher-level military sources when attempting to assess the mood of a military body in such circumstances as the Singapore surrender. The reaction of large numbers of Allied troops was more complicated than simply feeling ashamed or inadequate at the outcome of the Malayan campaign. The actual validity of claims that the surrender robbed the Singapore defenders of the opportunity to demonstrate their fighting potential is in many ways unimportant. More significant is the extent to which the men involved believed it to be so. These feelings, insubstantial though they may have been, were manifested in a defiant attitude that was apparent as the men entered captivity. The captivity that awaited the Malayan army was different from anything they had imagined. Obviously, the Japanese were themselves an unknown quantity but the conditions at Changi, with no barbed wire or guard towers, was even more perplexing. In the aftermath of such a defeat the men needed some form of reassurance. Hank Nelson, who has written extensively about the experiences of Australian POWs, noted that when the Japanese eventually issued instructions to construct a perimeter fence at Changi, ‘some prisoners welcomed the wire. It defined themselves as well as the camp.’1 Nelson is certainly correct in this assertion. However, what was also significant is that prior to the wire, which did not appear until March 1942, the POWs also required something positive by which to redefine themselves, and they found it in perhaps the most unlikely of locations. The idea that the surrender had pre-empted, and prevented, a stiffer form of resistance grew during the strange weeks that characterised the post-surrender but pre-wire period. The element of defiance that so characterised the POWs’ responses to captivity proper, when it finally arrived some five weeks after the surrender, grew tangibly during this time. The lack of an initial prison-camp structure obliged the British and Australian troops to create one of their own. Japanese indifference, partially due to lack of manpower and probably also due the belief that a defeated army would have neither the energy nor inclination to cause problems, led the POWs to administer their own captivity. This administrative and societal framework paved the way for the effective construction of a semi-autonomous community at Changi. The large number of local volunteers from Singapore and Malaya, as well as Territorial Army men from Britain and Australian and even Dutch troops, brought a wide experience of life and many skills and abilities to Changi. When harnessed to the existing military structure of Malaya Command, the Changi camp blossomed. The absence of Japanese direction in the early months enabled this community to put down firm roots, grounded still in the self-belief that had arisen from the abrupt manner of the surrender.

168 Conclusions: bowed but not broken The Selarang barrack square incident, in turn, bound the camp more closely just when it may have disintegrated under the effects of Japanese demands. The determination of the Japanese to enforce their will over the signing of the parole forms had the effect of welding many of the disparate elements at Changi together and crucially provided a new collective and positive identity as the victors of Selarang. The net result was that this self-image could now conclusively supersede that of the men who had lost Singapore and Malaya. Changi, and the myth of Changi that grew up inside the camp, was, to a great extent, a self-reinforcing phenomenon. Men held at Changi believed it to be different. When POWs from other camps arrived in Singapore they confirmed its unique elements in comparison to their own experiences. The POWs at Changi responded to this by exhibiting a tacit refusal to acknowledge barriers to their ambitions or ideas in the pursuit of improving their lives as captives. This was apparent most overtly through the spectacular theatrical productions, but also more practically demonstrated in innumerable initatives such as the ‘nail factory’ or the ‘rubber factory’, all of which thrived in Changi’s open spaces. The incredible achievement of ‘Smokey Joe’s’ restaurant was the product of incomparable scrounging, worthy of James Garner’s best efforts (as ‘the scrounger’) in the film of The Great Escape, but it was also an achievement of unparalleled imagination and wit. How could any body of men, still seeking confirmation of an independent and positive identity, fail to find encouragement and succour in being a member (and this too, perhaps more than any other consideration, drew the Dutch into the wider Changi fold) of a grouping responsible for such an activity? Contemporary diary accounts frequently stress how ‘strange’ Changi was and how often ‘one can forget one is a POW’. All these considerations contributed to a myth of Changi. This myth was important to those who remained at Changi for the whole war and also appears to have been significant to those who went north, to the railway, although the extent of this is impossible to determine without additional research. Their belief in Changi, and in what it represented, was a source of considerable comfort. By rising above captivity in this fashion, the POWs were also beating captivity in a very important manner. This belief provided a considerable and ongoing psychological benefit in the continuous struggle to survive. There are frequent references to Anglo-Australian disharmony before, during and after the Singapore surrender. Surprisingly, the arguments about who was responsible and which party should take the blame found no real outlet once inside Changi and only became, or rather resumed its central significance, after the cessation of the Second World War. While the Australians pursued their own initiatives on occasion, generally the POW community was characterised by a perceptible homogeneity. Such differences that did arise came from an interesting angle. In fact differences focused more upon men who arrived at Changi, from Java and elsewhere, irrespective of their nationality. Australian arrivals, for example, found that they had more in common with British arrivals than those of their own countrymen who had spent the war at Changi. Even men working on temporary assignments in Singapore town expressed surprise at the developments at Changi in terms of what the POWs had achieved and how the camp had changed

Conclusions: bowed but not broken 169 in their absence. This is testimony both to the closeness of the Changi community and also to the strength of the bonds that were forged there, as distinct from the bonds formed before the surrender itself or by virtue of shared cultural or national assumptions. The Changi camp was obviously a product of military endeavour. However, the POW community, while bolstered and defined by traditional military behaviour, was still flexible enough to set it aside when conditions demanded, the reallocation of batmen being perhaps the most obvious example. The loss of all the senior officers from Changi in July 1942 was also significant. This compelled comparatively junior officers to shoulder more responsibilities than they had been used to previously. Their determination to maintain strict military discipline was symptomatic of men thrust into new and unaccustomed roles and intent both on being perceived as equal to the task as well as being equal to those tasks in actuality. That these men did so in such a conclusive manner was frequently unpopular amongst the POWs, as Russell Braddon noted in his best-selling account of captivity.2 However, the act of complaining about one’s superiors (and indeed about any and everything) is central to army life and served to emphasis further the distinction between life at Changi (in terms of being an extension of military service) and more typical forms of POW life. The Japanese initially tried to disabuse their captives of any notions that they were still soldiers, frequent references to the voluntary surrender being the most common method. Even as the POWs presented the Japanese with what may have been construed as unreasonable and impertinent demands, the POWs made sure to create the pretence of respect and subordination. At the end of March 1942, the first complete month in captivity, General Percival submitted a report to the Japanese authorities. He concluded with the following paragraph: I have written this first monthly report at considerable length in order to sum-up all deficiencies, discomforts and dangers in our present situation, and the requests, which I have from time to time made for their amelioration. I hope that the complaints that I have occasion to make in this report will be sympathetically considered, and that all reasonable steps will be taken to make necessary improvements.3 These acts of petitioning were a feature of every report submitted to the Japanese. When General Percival left Changi, Lt. Col Holmes continued the reports in much the same tone. Holmes frequently paid elaborate tribute to his Japanese captors. In December 1942 he wrote: I wish to record the appreciation of all ranks of the No.1 POW Camp on the undermentioned privileges, which were granted for the celebration of Christmas:a. Christmas day being observed as a complete holiday b. Permission for religious services to be held

170 Conclusions: bowed but not broken c. Permission for POWs with relatives in the internment camp to meet on Christmas day d. The facilities granted for the exchange of Christmas gifts between the internees and No.1 POW Camp.4 Rarely, however, were these comments unaccompanied by ‘requests’ for additional items. At the end of September 1942, for example, Holmes requested ‘a supply of the following [which] would also be of great benefit to all POWs in this camp [rice polishings, fertilisers, drugs]’. These exchanges, repeated in each monthly report and many face-to-face meetings, are representative of the complex struggle inherent in the relationship between the powerful and the powerless. The Japanese were very keen on assembling the POW population in large parades, ostensibly to celebrate Japanese successes such as the fall of Singapore or the promotion of particular Japanese officers. As James Scott comments in his anthropological work: ‘Parades, inaugurations, processions . . . provide ruling groups with the occasion to make a spectacle of themselves in a manner largely of their own choosing.’5 The Japanese predisposition for such events, irrespective of the ridicule that they frequently engendered amongst the POWs, served only to reenforce the Japanese position of pre-eminence (in their own minds at least), and the obvious futility of such parades emphasised the power of compulsion that the Japanese had over their captives. Similarly, the very British manner of addressing particular grievances in the form of a written petition also found little favour with the Japanese, indicative as it was (in the eyes of the Japanese) of impudence. Indeed, this type of initiative had an independent significance in Japanese culture and history (although probably few of the POWs were sufficiently well informed about Japanese culture and history to appreciate the likely impact), where ‘peasant petitions to the daimyo (feudal barons) in Tokugwa Japan were frequently a prelude to riots and insurrections’.6 The act of petitioning in itself is a way of asserting, or of bringing attention to, specific needs and wants and, by implication, to the rights of those petitioning. The idea that the POWs at Changi (and of course POWs in general) had no rights, or were less worthy of consideration, was widespread amongst the Japanese. As the Japanese historian Ikuhiko Hata noted: ‘in as far as they denied the existence of their own POWs, the Japanese came to regard time, effort and money spent on the large number of enemy POWs as a one-way burden’.7 With this perspective as an initial standpoint, and Japanese opinions of surrender are well known, it is interesting to observe the evolution of their responses to their captives as the war progressed. An Ethiopian proverb, also to be found in James Scott’s study, states that ‘When the great Lord passes the wise peasant bows deeply and silently farts.’ This crude commentary on the interaction between these groups is to be found reproduced and encapsulated in the above ‘Monthly’ reports from Changi. The POWs consciously adopted the formal style and (superficially) subservient manner demanded by their Japanese captors, while at the same time manipulating it for their own ends and behaving, in Changi itself, as though the Japanese were of only peripheral importance. The Japanese not only found these requests increasingly objectionable but were also displeased by the fact that the POWs began to ignore the ‘proper channels’ prescribed for

Conclusions: bowed but not broken 171 the presentation of such requests. This gradual process culminated in the POWs approaching a senior Japanese officer directly, and completely ignoring all established protocol. This action was interpreted by the Japanese as an overt act of insubordination. In response they introduced a number of restrictions, notably by insisting that the POWs now use Japanese words of command, a tactic designed to reassert their position and undermine the POWs’ own sense of identity. Japanese tactics also focused on compelling the POWs to behave in a more soldierly fashion, for example by insisting that the appropriate ‘compliments’ were paid to officers. This predictably and paradoxically had the opposite effect to that desired by the Japanese. It was now apparent to the POWs that, despite frequent pronouncements to the contrary, the Japanese were treating their captives as soldiers, even if they did not rate them as such on the battlefield. This had obvious benefits in terms of POW morale and, while it was only at best a pyrrhic victory, its effect was profound upon morale at Changi. The Changi ‘spirit’, for want of a better term, essentially grew from a feeling that the Singapore surrender was somehow an unjust defeat and was combined with a strong sense of independence. This was both fostered and given expression at Selarang and developed over the years by continued resistance to Japanese demands. The POWs were simultaneously doing everything materially possible to improve their position through their own efforts. The increasing Japanese efforts to break down the POW community only had the effect of strengthening the collective response to outside interference. Ironically, the POW community was by no means as secure and united as it may have seemed to the Japanese. The passing of the years exaggerated petty jealousies and bitterness until they came to the surface during turbulent months at the gaol. The comparative open spaces available at Changi camp had allowed many of these frustrations to be dissipated spatially. The confined gaol, together with more restrictive Japanese instructions, fractured the POW community along the fault lines that had always existed. The fact that this only occurred towards the end of the war is not solely due to fortuitous circumstance but also is indicative of the very real strength of the POW community. Do these considerations make Changi the unique POW community its captive population so strongly believed it to be? In the context of what this book has detailed and claimed for the Changi POW camp, the following diary extract is especially interesting: From seven onwards there is an unbroken succession of public activities. As soon as the forty odd Anglicans vacate the hall it is taken over by Roman Catholics for eight o’clock mass; at eight, too, a party of golf professionals tees off on the field, while . . . Mr. Brose begins his second lecture on ‘The Dynamics of a Particle’ . . . tennis games along the race track and the start of a Lancashire–Yorkshire cricket match . . . [with] souvenir programmes on sale for a penny.8 This is not Changi, although the tone and substance would fit easily with POW diaries from Changi (where an ‘Ashes’ Test Match was held). It is in fact taken

172 Conclusions: bowed but not broken from J. Davidson Ketchum’s remarkable examination of his time in a German internment camp during the First World War. Ketchum’s text, published posthumously in 1965 as Ruhleben: A Prison Camp Society, discusses the development of a cohesive societal existence within the confines of a Berlin racecourse, hastily wired-in to receive its contingent of British (and Imperial subjects, Ketchum being a Canadian) caught in Imperial Germany at the outbreak of war in August 1914. The course of this development, the stages through which the internees ascended to a bearable existence, parallels with remarkable contiguity the path taken by the POWs at Changi. After what Ketchum termed the ‘settling of Ruhleben by the British’, the camp began to develop ‘sufficient security for life to take on a routine character’.9 Theatres, sports and frequent requests to the Germans for provision of additional foodstuffs and other essential items formed the staple of life at Ruhleben. Ketchum also noted: ‘The Germans of course have nothing to do with the activities that occupy most of each day, and it is in these settings, where the men are entirely on their own, that their self-imposed orderliness is most conspicuous.’10 Military regulations and military discipline governed life at Changi. The inmates at Ruhleben, conversely, were not POWs but civilian internees, and there are obvious differences arising from this. At Ruhleben, for example, the German camp commandant lobbied the German War Office to remove the camp guards as the inmates posed so little threat. Does this, in some sense, detract from the achievements of Changi? I think not, and if anything would argue that the opposite is in fact true: that the Ruhleben example underscores the enormity of what was created at Changi. There was none of the apparent mutual respect that characterised Ruhleben on display at Changi. Those at Changi achieved what they did largely despite the prevailing conditions and despite the Japanese. The whole Changi experience, therefore, needs to be seen in the context of the war as a whole and in particular the polar opposites that have characterised the modes of representation of the POW experience in the Second World War. Put simply, to be a POW of the Germans is perceived to have been a more fortunate experience if one is an Allied serviceman. The manner in which the POW experience is remembered (and represented) is dominated by such images as those in The Great Escape or Colditz. While there are POWs killed in The Great Escape (and indeed the film is poignantly dedicated to ‘the fifty’ Allied Officers executed by the Gestapo) the random and premeditated brutality so characteristic of the Japanese is generally absent. Similarly, the generalised perception of life as a POW of the Japanese is dominated by those same notions of brutality encapsulated, as we have seen, in the experiences of POWs on the ‘Death’ railway. The idea that captivity at the hands of the Germans distilled down to something approaching a public-school-style attempt continuously to outwit the guards, and evermore elaborate attempts to escape, is widespread. Obviously, it was far more complicated and the German record as captors, although comparative good, is far more patchy, as the ‘fifty’ in The Great Escape represents. Similarly, the Germans’ comparative decency did not apply to their Russian captives, amongst others. However, in terms of generalisations it is they who come out on top over their Axis allies, the Japanese. Whether

Conclusions: bowed but not broken 173 there is an overt or subconscious racial dimension at work is hard to say; it is probable, however, to believe that an ‘oriental’ race such as the Japanese is more capable, even more predisposed, towards brutality than the European Germans. This despite the obvious and contradictory evidence of the Holocaust. What then is the significance of Changi in broader terms? Increasingly the special character or nature of the war against Japan is being recognised more broadly. The racial dimension that so underpinned the conduct of the war, on both sides, is seen for what it was: the crucial catalyst in promoting and perpetuating the ferocity of the conflict. What does the evidence of what happened at Changi amount to in terms of the history of the Second World War and the history and perception of life as a POW of the Japanese? What form, if any at all is warranted, of reappraisal of POW history does this story of Changi demand? First, it is important to be specific about what the evidence discussed actually amounts to. In conversation with various historians and interested individuals about Changi, and what happened there, many warned of the ‘outrage’ that former POW groupings would raise when hearing of a book that appeared to challenge many of the constructions around which their experiences as POWs are built. That is to say that much of the ‘Changi’ evidence suggests, given only a cursory reading, that life as a POW of the Japanese was, at times, quite palatable. This, in some sense, is correct. What it is important to remember is that life at Changi, irrespective of its levels of comfort, is very distinct from the general picture of life as a POW of the Japanese. In fact, if anything may be drawn from the Changi experience it is not that which diminishes the experiences of other POWs of the Japanese but rather the opposite. The men at Changi managed to achieve what they did in the face of Japanese indifference and frequently in the face of Japanese hostility. But certainly the degree and ferocity of Japanese hostility is far less apparent at Changi than in Burma or Thailand. I am no apologist for Japanese atrocities. If anything I was shocked by what my research into areas peripheral to Changi showed in terms of what the Japanese had inflicted upon POWs and civilians between 1942 and 1945. I cannot deny, however, that at Changi the Japanese did not behave in a similar fashion, for whatever reason. Fundamentally, I believe that the story of Changi is testimony to the real courage of those men who surrendered at Singapore. It is this demonstration of courage in adversity that should ultimately stand as their marker in history, rather than their being remembered only for their respective role in the ‘greatest disaster in British military history’, or indeed as the pliant ‘slaves of the Son of Heaven’. Those held in Changi are in fact only too aware of the difference between it and the railway, as former POW Stan Arneil wrote in his 1980 account of captivity, One Man’s War: The portrayal of the dreaded Changi brings a smile to the faces of many former POWs who longed for Changi as almost a heaven on earth compared to some of the dreadful places they were taken.11 What Changi does demonstrate is that even in the most unpromising situation, resistance and industry can flourish. The prerequisites for the evolution of such a

174 Conclusions: bowed but not broken community appear to be, most importantly, a significant degree of autonomy combined with an external enemy against which resistance, whether overt or not, can be marshalled. The captive community also needs to experience hardship to a significant though not overwhelming degree. This hardship needs to be sufficient to make those confined realise the seriousness of their predicament, but not so significant that each day or each action amounts to a life and death decision. Important, too, is the presence of a wide cross-section of society. Ruhleben was comprised of British and Imperial citizens working, studying or travelling in pre-1914 Germany, and their breadth of experience was similar to that on display at Changi. Lastly, the belief that escape was impossible is extremely significant. This consideration obliged men to deal with their circumstances and to make the best of them. The implications of this were abundantly clear at Changi. The Changi story also has much to say about the nature of myths and collective remembrance. Why is it that Changi and the myriad achievements of the POWs there have not received wider recognition beyond the comparatively narrow grouping of those held there? Why also has Changi frequently been considered in far darker terms than the reality? Is it for no other reason than that Changi has been tarred with the ‘death railway’ brush, or is it perhaps easier to imagine the Japanese as only purveyors of brutality, which they most certainly were on the railway and elsewhere? At Changi it is obvious that the Japanese behaved comparatively decently towards the POWs. This did not stop the massacre of large numbers of Singapore Chinese civilians in the direct vicinity of Changi; nor did it prevent the execution of the four men prior to the Selarang incident. Are there firm conclusions to be drawn about the Japanese from this evidence? Their treatment of POWs at Changi was comparatively moderate, and this certainly flies in the face of the accepted picture of Japanese behaviour in the Second World War. Additional research in Japanese sources is needed in order to be able to consider a wider thesis about the Japanese. Certainly, compared to the worst excesses elsewhere, Changi hardly balances the scale except to provide a picture of at least one example where the Japanese treatment of POWs was moderate. Thus far there would appear to be little else to conclude, about the Japanese at least. In the post-war years, the men who suffered as POWs of the Japanese rarely managed fully to overcome their experiences. In Britain, the preponderance of Far Eastern Prisoner of War (FEPOW) clubs is testimony to their determination to build on what they had learned as prisoners, to ‘keep going the spirit that kept us going’. In Australia what is now termed the Returned Servicemen’s League (RSL) has served a similar role. Both organisations helped to keep the memory of POWs alive and in this they have been helped by hundreds of first-hand accounts, many novels and several films. The most notable, of course, is The Bridge on the River Kwai, which has done much to shape the nature of the collective memory of POWs of the Japanese, although few POWs will testify to its authenticity. More recently, the Australian writer David Malouf took the experience of Australian POWs of the Japanese as a central theme of his novel, The Great World.12 This book is set partially in Changi, and the title is derived from the amusement park in Singapore where many POWs were billeted while loading

Conclusions: bowed but not broken 175 stores for the Japanese in the immediate aftermath of the surrender. The book is about the Australian experience of the wider world, as well being concerned with what it means to be Australian, and it is significant that the defining life experience for the principal character is that of the Burma–Thailand railway. While Changi is primarily a backdrop, in which ‘the early days . . . were all idleness and neglect’, prior to the real story of the railway, it is quite obvious that Changi had nothing in common with the appalling conditions ‘up-country’, and this is made clear by Malouf.13 In fact, the idea of the ‘dreaded Changi’ appears to be limited to older copies of King Rat. However, although Changi was obviously not a death camp, the extent to which its true identity is anymore apparent is, even now, still minimal. Perhaps in a world that prefers to conceive of the past in terms of black and white, in terms of extremes the ambiguous Changi only blurs the otherwise clear picture. Whilst in Australia, undertaking research for the Ph.D. thesis on which this book is based, I was fortunate to come across a poem, quite by chance, by Adam Aitken. The poem was published in the ‘Review of Books’ section of The Australian newspaper and was entitled simply ‘Changi’. It is reproduced in full below: Real Orchid forest in Terminal 2. where Euro-gypsies rest, fazed by taped bird song. Unpack, repack those dreams that don’t need sleep. On my Nintendo Super Mario up to his tricks again bouncing over cities, stretching bandwidth, island-hopping the crevasse of urban decay. On the X-ray my collection of South East Asian coins, more useless by the hour. A metal detector singing jingles. I leave a message via credit card phone, my own message machine voice feeding back like hydroponics. Visit my own web-site at the ‘Internet village’. At the next terminal cyberspace junkie, jacked in to Borneo, Sarawak, two teenage attendants flirting dressed in New Singapore white, I thought a funeral colour for Chinese angels, nurses or lab attendants. White noise, nothing’s as it was,

176 Conclusions: bowed but not broken as it seems, except – my email: ‘I promise to come home, darling please believe me.’ By midnight, sincere this time. The perfect transit lounge unpacks, repacks, I find myself craving some obsolete science, archaeology perhaps: a litter bin overflowing with poems, alive, odourless as these orchids, close as your face on a VDU. The birds, extinct, full throated, unseen imagine themselves a forest circle by jets. Their song glorious, their makers dead.14 Given the extent to which Australians allegedly recognise the name ‘Changi’, as Hank Nelson suggests, the choice of subject and title are curious. Does this poem pay subtle tribute to the POWs of Changi? Some lines suggest that it does: ‘I promise to come home, darling please believe me’ is uncannily reminiscent of the diaries of so many prisoners. Probably and almost depressingly, this poem is what it claims to be – an ironic look at the phenomenon of the enormous Changi International Airport that is so symbolic of the new Singapore and its ‘tiger’ economy. It would be gratifying, however, to think that those many thousands of passengers who pass through its terminals every year know something of its origins and something of the men who laid the foundations as part of the ‘groundlevelling party’. Whatever cultural resonance Changi has today, whether airport or death-camp, the reality of what happened there is very different to either description. It is also very different to any of the standard representations of POWs of the Japanese that dominate our conveniently demarcated images of the Second World War, its different theatres, different races and different standards of behaviour. Life at Changi resembles, if anything, many of the standard accounts of POWs of the Germans, where ingenuity was as much to the fore as bravery. Although escape attempts were neither popular nor central to life at Changi, so too do they appear to have been over-celebrated in accounts of life in German camps. Changi was a complicated and sophisticated community. The fact that comparatively few men died in Changi is due to the interaction of many factors, but principally to a determination to overcome captivity itself. This determination may reasonably be located in the implications of the Singapore surrender. This book has hopefully shown that life as a POW of the Japanese had many different facets, and that the railway experience, while significant, is but one. The post-war focus on this admittedly significant and central element, to the exclusion of other considerations, has prevented a more comprehensive picture of life as a Japanese-held POW from emerging. It can now be seen that far from conforming to the stereotypical broken men of the railway, those at Changi were, for the most

Conclusions: bowed but not broken 177 part, independent figures. They lived in a contained community of fellow POWs and adapted with great ingenuity and imagination to the many problems that captivity brought. They generally stood up to the Japanese, frequently in a manner that tested the limits of Japanese patience. The extent to which the Changi experience shaped or had a bearing on the practical day-to-day events on the railway is hard to determine without further investigation. It can be said, however, that the POWs at Changi demonstrated in large degree the qualities of resilience later so apparent in Burma and Thailand. Similarly, the impact of the Singapore surrender may also be seen to have had a greater bearing on their responses to captivity than has previously been thought. An RAF pilot, shot down over Germany for example, who entered captivity with an idea of what to expect, to say nothing of the potential psychological benefits of knowing that the war was being won or that the RAF had already triumphed in the Battle of Britain, was in some sense prepared for being a POW. The men captured at Singapore did not have the benefit of knowing they had done their best; indeed, few thought that they had; nor did they have much of an idea of what to expect from the Japanese. Crucially, what they did take with them into captivity was a collective idea that they were prevented from doing their best in combat and that they now had the opportunity to redress this position through their response to captivity.

Appendix 1

Principal overseas departures from Changi camp, February 1942–December 1943. (These figures refer only to men captured at Singapore and do not include men from Java and elsewhere who were held temporarily at Changi.)*

1942 14 May 8 July 16 August 28 November

A Force, 6,000 men, to Burma and Thailand. B Force, 1,500, men, to Borneo. ‘Special’ party, 400 men, to Taiwan. Japan B party/senior officers, 1,000 men, to Japan. C Force, 557 men, to Japan.

1943 14 March 28 March 18–30 April 25 April 5–17 May 15 May 25 June 24 August

D Force, 5,000 men, to Thailand. E Force, 1,000 men, to Borneo. F Force, 7,000 men, to Thailand. G Force, 1,500 men, to Japan. H Force, 3,270 men, to Thailand. J Force, 900 men, to Japan. K Force, 230 men, to Thailand. L Force, 115 men, to Thailand.

Note: Figures taken from David Nelson, The Story of Changi (West Perth, 1973).

Appendix 2

Appendix 3

Appendix 4

Appendix 5

POW numbers at Changi, 1942–5 1942 March April May June July

45,562 31,997 16,818 15,445 17,028

August September October November December

18,790 21,154 15,744 10,924 26,374

1943 January February March April May June

25,507 28,207 22,211 10,565 5,550 5,359

July August September October November December

5,381 5,307 5,332 6,879 5,572 8,473

1944 January February March April May June

8,503 8,562 8,561 8,854 10,075 10,112

July August September October November December

10,274 10,066 10,184 10,209 10,345 10,358

1945 January February March April May June

10,056 10,245 10,342 8,091 8,005 7,719*

Note: *British and Australian POW Camp, Changi, WO222/1352–55, PRO. June is the last month for which complete figures are available.

Notes

1 Life at the Changi prisoner of war camp, Singapore, 1942–5 1 Captain A.W. Rogers, Australian Army Medical Corps, diary entry for 29 May 1943, Canberra, Australian War Memorial (AWM), PR85/145. 2 Winston Churchill, History of the Second World War: Vol. 4, The Hinge of Fate (London, 1951), p.81. 3 Quoted from the back cover of the 1994 Coronet edition of James Clavell, King Rat (London, 1962). 4 See Yoshinori Murai in Gavan McCormack and Hank Nelson, The Burma–Thailand Railway (St Leonards, Australia, 1993), p.59, for one of the few articles on the subject. 5 McCormack and Nelson, The Burma–Thailand Railway. 6 Rohan Rivett, Behind Bamboo (Ringwood, Vic., Australia, 1946), p.158. 7 Kenneth Harrison, The Brave Japanese (London, 1967), p.132. 8 E.E. Dunlop, The War Diaries of Weary Dunlop (London, 1990), p.160; italics in original. 9 Quoted from the back cover of the 1977 Coronet edition of James Clavell, King Rat (London, 1962). 10 Total British losses in manpower during the Malayan campaign were 138,708, of which 130,000 became POWs. Of these 38,496 were British, 18,490 Australian, 67,340 Indian and 14,382 locally recruited volunteers. These figures are quoted from Major-General S.W. Woodburn Kirby, The War Against Japan: Vol. 1, The Loss of Singapore (London, 1957), part of the British official History of the Second World War, p. 473. They are disputed by Peter Elphick’s more recent study, Singapore: The Pregnable Fortress, (London, 1995). Elphick considered that the Allied forces involved in Malaya and Singapore amounted to 86,895, all nationalities (p.185). 11 Quoted from the back cover of the 1993 Penguin edition of Russell Braddon, The Naked Island (London, 1951). 12 British and Australian POW Camp, Changi, London, Public Record Office ( PRO), WO222/1352–55. 13 See R.P.W. Havers, The Selarang Barrack Square Incident, Imperial War Museum Review, No. 11, Autumn 1997. 14 Percival to Major-General Sir Guy Glover KBE, letter dated 8 January 1946, Recognition of Promotions of British Other Ranks made whilst POW under Japanese Control, PRO, WO 32/11684. 15 Paul Keating in McCormack and Nelson, The Burma–Thailand Railway. 16 McCormack and Nelson, The Burma–Thailand Railway, p.162. 17 Ibid., p.22. The references, beginning with Eureka, are, respectively, a celebrated Australian miners’ strike that developed into a pitched battle, the only such on Australian soil; the Gallipoli expedition; a popular and well-known race horse; and a famous Australian cricketer. Kokoda and Tobruk were battles fought by the Australians in the Second World War.

184 Notes 18 See also Brenda Yeoh and Lily Kong, ‘The Notion of Place in the Construction of History, Nostalgia and Heritage in Singapore’, Singapore Journal of Tropical Geography, Vol. 17, No. 1 (1996), p.55. I am grateful to Dr Kevin Blackburn of the National Technical University of Singapore for drawing my attention to this additional dimension of the Changi story. 19 Joan Beaumont, ‘Prisoners of War’, unpublished paper delivered at the Fiftieth Anniversary Conference of the Australian War Memorial, November 1991, p.117. 20 Squadron Leader H.A. Probert, History of Changi (Singapore, 1965), p.34. A booklet produced when the Changi area was a post-war RAF base. 21 British and Australian POW Camp, Changi, PRO, WO222/1352. 22 See Appendix 1 on p. 178 for details of Overseas departures from Changi. 23 Only the survivors of H and F Forces returned to Changi. The survivors of other groups either remained in Thailand or moved to Japan. See David Nelson, The Story of Changi (West Perth, 1973), ‘Chronology of important events and moves of working parties form Changi’, AWM54 554/11/29 and ‘AIF War Diary’, AWM54 554/11/39, for an exhaustive list of which groupings went where and for how long. 2 Surrender and captivity: 15 February 1942 1 In January 1999 new files on Singapore were declassified for the first time. ‘Proposals for a Public Inquiry into the Malayan Campaign – 1942’, cites the ‘strain’ on relations with India and Australia that such an inquiry would engender, London, Public Record Office (PRO), CAB121/765. 2 Masanobu Tsuji, Singapore: The Japanese Version (London, 1960), p.280, translated by Margaret E. Clarke. 3 For an alternative psychological examination of the ‘chain of disaster’ that led to the surrender see Norman Dixon, On the Psychology of Military Incompetence (London, 1976). 4 Stanley Falk, Seventy Days to Singapore (London, 1975), p.42. 5 The saga of the Singapore naval base is a central element of inter-war defence planning. For an examination of the decision-making process, and the factors that shaped it and in turn led to the surrender, see Peter Elphick, Singapore: The Pregnable Fortress (London, 1995), Major-General S.W. Woodburn Kirby, The History of the Second World War: The War Against Japan, Vol. I (London, 1957), Falk, Seventy Days to Singapore, and Louis Allen, Singapore, 1941–42, (London, 1993). 6 Falk, Seventy Days to Singapore, p. 42. 7 Elphick, Singapore: The Pregnable Fortress, p.16. 8 Woodburn Kirby, The War Against Japan, p.6. 9 Ibid., p.7. 10 Lt.-General A.E. Percival, CB, DSO, MBE, MC. Appointed General Officer Commanding (GOC), Malaya, in May 1941. Prior to this Percival had commanded the 44th Division in England from summer 1940 to his appointment to Malaya. 11 Dobbie was appointed GOC Malaya in August 1936. 12 Woodburn Kirby, The War Against Japan, p.15. 13 Allen, Singapore 1941–42, p.125. 14 Ibid., p.121. 15 A.E. Percival, The War in Malaya (London, 1949), p.110. 16 Woodburn Kirby, The War Against Japan, p.461. 17 Lord Strabolgi, (John Montague Kenworthy, Baron Strabolgi), Singapore and After: A Study of the Pacific Campaign (London, 1942), p.66. 18 Lt.-General Sir William Dobbie (GOC Malaya), had requested tanks from the War Office in 1937, as had his successor General Sir Lionel Bond; quoted from Allen, Singapore 1941–42, p.45. None were forthcoming however. 19 War Diaries 1939–45, Field Marshal Lord Alanbrooke, 15 December 1941, edited by Alex Danchev and Dan Todman (London, 2001).

Notes 185 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50

Ibid., p.205. Ibid., p.212. Clausewitz’s idea seems peculiarly applicable in these circumstances. L. Popham, Signaller, Royal Corps of Signals, 18th British Division, diary entry for 13 February 1942, London, Imperial War Museum (IWM), 86/35/1. Ibid., 14 February 1942. Ibid., 15 February 1942. A.A. Morris, diary covering surrender and subsequent imprisonment in Changi, February–November 1942, transcript, IWM, p.1. Private C. Carpenter, 5th Battalion Royal Norfolk Regiment, transcript memoir, IWM, 87/34/1, p.42. Sergeant Alfred Montfort, 4th Anti-Tank Regiment, Australian Imperial Force (AIF), diary entry for 15 February 1942, Canberra, Australian War Memorial (AWM), PR88/214. Sergeant James Roxburgh, 2/30th Battalion AIF, diary entry for 16 February 1942, AWM, PR84/117. Gunner J. Moore, 2/10 Field Regiment, AIF, diary entry for 15 February 1942, AWM, 87/34/1. Staff Sergeant E.W. Burrey, HQ Company Australian Army Service Corps (AASC), diary entry for 15 February 1942, AWM, PR000662. Col. D.A.S. Houghton, 88th Field Regiment, Royal Artillery (9th Indian Division) 12pp. letter written by Houghton between May 1942 and August 1945, IWM, p.3. 2nd Battalion Cambridgeshire Regiment, War Diary, diary entries for 15 February 1942, PRO, WO 172/138. Bombardier E.W. Parry, 88th Field Regiment Royal Artillery, 9th Indian Division, diary entry for 15 February 1942, IWM, 86/35/1. Brigadier E.W. Goodman, Commanding Officer, Royal Artillery, 9th Indian Division, journal written between 1943 and 1945, entry for 15 February 1942, IWM, 86/67/1. Corporal J.A. Richardson, Perak Battalion Federated Malay States Volunteer Force and also as a Lt., Intelligence Corps, diary entry for 15 February 1942, IWM. Sergeant Alec Hodgson, 2/6 Field Park Company, Royal Australian Engineers, diary entry for 16 February 1942, AWM, PR91/141. Keith Wilson, You’ll Never Get off the Island: POW, Changi, Singapore, February 1942–August 1945 (Sydney, 1989), p.3. Bombardier Parry, diary entry for 16 February 1942, IWM. Special Order of the Day by General Sir A.P. Wavell, 2 February 1942, IWM, Misc. 1772. Lionel Wigmore, Australia in the War of 1939–45: Vol. IV, the Japanese Thrust (Canberra, 1957), p.294. Special Order of the Day by General Sir A.P. Wavell, 2 February 1942, IWM, Misc. 1772. CABLE N0.260/2, Churchill to Wavell, 10 February 1942, Ismay papers, quoted in David Day, The Great Betrayal (London, 1988), p.255. Copy of telegram, Wavell to Percival, 10 February 1942, IWM, Misc. 1772. Lt. Richardson, diary entry for 14 February 1942, IWM. Captain E.C. Dickson, diary describing service with 88 Field Regiment, RA, 11th Indian Division, and later attached to 18th Div., diary entry for 11 February 1942, IWM. Bombardier Parry, diary entry for 11 February 1942, IWM. Lt.-Col. E.B. Holmes to Lt. Okasaki, Imperial Japanese Army (IJA), 1 September 1942, Report on POW Camps in the Far East, PRO, WO32/14550. Lt. W.R. Young, Royal Engineers, 11th Indian Division, diary entry for 16 February 1942, IWM, 92/39/1. Reverend G.J. Chambers, Chaplain to 35th LAA Regiment Royal Artillery, letter

186 Notes

51 52 53 54 55

56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72

73 74 75 76 77 78 79

dated Wednesday 15 February 1942. Died as a POW at Kranji, July 1945, IWM, 91/35/1. Major D.W. Gillies, senior medical officer 55 Brigade and 196 Field Ambulance, 18th British Division, diary entry for 3 April 1942, IWM, 84/18/1. Chambers, diary entry for 15 February 1942, IWM. Major Gillies, diary entry for 22 February 1942, IWM. Captain R.M. Horner, 292 Supply Company, Royal Army Service Corps (RASC), 18th Division, diary, May 1942–Oct. 1945, diary transcript, IWM, p.7. Col. G.H. Shorland, transcript (118pp.) of original MS and TS diary written to wife while a POW. Shorland was a regular Royal Artillery Officer who had served as GSOII in Malaya Command HQ up to the fall of Singapore. Diary entry for 15 March 1942, IWM, 95/17/1. Captain E.C. Dickson, 88 Field Regiment Royal Artillery, 11th Indian Division. Handwritten transcript of message from Major-General M.B. Beckwith-Smith, GOC 18th Division, 15 February 1942, IWM, 84/29/1. The 53rd Brigade, 18th Division, arrived on 13 January 1942, with the remaining two brigades, 54th and 55th, arriving in Singapore on 5 February 1942. Lt. Alastair Mackenzie, 1st Battalion The Malay Regiment, photocopy of account (10pp.) written in the 1980s based on a contemporary journal, IWM, 90/15/1, p.1. Lt. Richardson, diary entry for 8 February 1942, IWM. Lt. W.M. Baillies, Singapore Royal Artillery Volunteer Force and Company Commander, 3/17 Dogras, diary entry for 14 February 1942, diary transcript, IWM, 85/36/1, p.51. Captain David Nelson, Straits Settlement Volunteer Force (SSVF), diary transcript, IWM, 85/36/1, p.2. David Nelson, The Story of Changi (Perth, 1973), p.vii. Major Gillies, diary entry for 23 February 1942, IWM. Sergeant Hodgson, diary entry for 16 September 1942, AWM. Signaller C. Coombs, Singapore Fortress Signals and with 9th Div. Signals, MS diary Feb. 1942–Oct. 1945. Diary entry for 15 February 1942, IWM, 88/62/1. L/Cpl. John Donald Korsch, 2/30th, AIF, diary entry for 15 February 1942, AWM. Major (later Brigadier) D.M. Shean, East Yorkshire Regiment, Q Branch, Malaya Command, diary entry for 15 February 1942, IWM, 67/170/1. Signaller A. Wilkins, Royal Corps of Signals, MS diary and related notes (20pp. with transcription, 35pp.), written while a POW in Singapore, transcript, IWM, 85/12/1, p.1a. Sergeant S.L. Gilmore, 2/20th Battalion AIF, MS copy ‘Brigadier A.L. Varley’, 16 February 1942, AWM, PR89/051 Lt.-Col. Dalgleish, ‘Address to AIF Ordinance Bn’, Changi, 25 March 1942, AWM. Ibid. For an interesting appraisal of the racial dimension of the war against the Japanese and a fuller discussion of the origins, evolution and impact of popular stereotypes of the Japanese upon the course of the war, see John W. Dower, War Without Mercy: Race and Power in the Pacific War (New York, 1986). Bombardier Parry, diary entry for 16 February 1942, IWM. Captain H.F.G. Malet, Federated Malay States Volunteer Force (FMSVF), transcription (150pp.) of diary covering the fall of Singapore and experiences as a POW, ending just before Malet’s death in June 1943, IWM, 95/9/1, p.8. Morris, diary transcript, IWM, p.1. Signaller Popham, diary entry for 16 February 1942, IWM. Company Sergeant-Major P.H. Romney, Selangor Battalion of the FMSVF, diary entry for 31 March 1942, IWM, 81/7/1. Morris, diary transcript, IWM, p.1. Ibid.

Notes 187 80 Bombardier Parry, diary entry for 17 February 1942, IWM. 81 Captain (later Lt.-Col.) C. Wilkinson, Royal Northumberland Fusiliers, diary entry for 16 February 1942, IWM, 81/7/1. 82 Sergeant Roxburgh, diary entry for 16 February 1942, AWM. 83 Sergeant Hodgson, diary entry for 18 February 1942, AWM. 84 Sergeant Montfort, 16 February 1942, AWM. 85 Captain S. Hannam, 2/26 Battalion, AIF, account written in 1945, AWM, PR85/117, p.6. 86 File of Orders, AIF Malaya Movement Order No. 1, 17 February 1942, AWM54 554/11/28. 87 Sergeant Hodgson, diary entry for 18 February 1942, AWM. 88 An anonymous Australian Officer in Changi, AWM, p.1. 89 Ibid., p.2. 90 File of Orders, AIF Malayan Movement Order No.1, AWM. 91 Ibid. 92 Major Alexander Thompson, quartermaster to the AIF in Changi. His extensive diaries record in detail all stores issued and produced in Changi, including food, medicine, clothing and footwear. Though recording details of relations with Japanese concerning stores and equipment, and generally concerned with the AIF, he makes many more general comments. Diary entry for 17 February 1942, AWM, PR00016–2. 93 Captain J. Gibson, Royal Artillery, ‘Prisoners of War in Japanese Hands: Account of Conditions’. Unpublished account written for the War Office, marked ‘Top Secret: This Account is Circulated for Official Use Only’. Copy retained by Gibson’s family and based upon Gibson’s own, apparently contemporary, notes. Copy also in possession of author, p.2. 94 Sergeant Montfort, diary entry for 18 February 1942, AWM. 95 Recapitulation and Revision of AIF POW ADM. Instructions 1–14 incl., 15 March 1942, AWM54 554/11/21. 96 Recapitulation and Revision of AIF POW ADM. Instructions 1–14 incl., 15 March 1942, AWM54 554/11/21. 97 Recapitulation and Revision of AIF POW ADM. Instructions 1–14 incl., 15 March 1942, AWM54 554/11/21. 98 Ibid. 99 Major Thompson, diary entry for 18 February 1942, AWM. 100 Ibid., 22 February 1942. 101 Ibid., 28 February 1942. 102 Ibid., 19 February 1942. 103 Gunner W.H. Miggins, 2/15 Field Regiment AIF, diary entry for 24 February 1942, AWM, PR00373. 104 AIF War Diary, Rations, AWM54 554/11/39, p.5. 105 British and Australian POW Camp, Changi, March 1942, PRO, WO222/1352. 106 Sergeant Roxburgh, diary entry for 18 February 1942, AWM. 107 Major Thompson, diary entry for 22 February 1942, AWM. 108 Ibid., 25 February 1942. 109 Private A.H.B. Alexander, FMSVF, account written in May 1946, IWM, 88/5/1, p.3. 110 Ibid.. 111 Gibson, ‘Prisoners of War in Japanese Hands’, p.2. 112 Major Thompson, diary entry for 21 February 1942, AWM. 113 Lt.-Col. Holmes, Interim Report on British and Australian POW Camps, Singapore Island, AWM54 554/11/4 Part 10. 114 Annual Medical Report POW Camp Changi, Diary of Events, 16 Feb. 1942–15 Feb. 1943, diary entry for 20 February 1942, PRO, WO222/ 1383. 115 Captain Horner, diary transcript, IWM, p.22. 116 ‘Allied POWs in Japanese Hands’, compiled 24 August 1944, PRO, WO 208/ 3485.

188 Notes 117 Bombardier Parry, diary entry for 16 February 1942, IWM. 118 Sergeant Romney, diary entry for 1 April 1942, IWM. 119 S. Dawson, transcript memoir written in 1946 covering service with 18th Division Field Workshop, RAOC, IWM, 95/9/1, p.39. 120 An anonymous Australian Officer in Changi, AWM, p.3. 121 See Dower, War Without Mercy. 122 Lt. Richardson, diary entry for 5 March 1942, IWM. 123 Col. Shorland, diary transcript, IWM, p.4. 124 W.W. Sowter, diary covering service with RASC in Singapore, Nov. 1941–Feb. 1942 and subsequent experiences as a POW at Changi, Feb. 1942–Aug. 1945), diary entry for 24 December 1942, IWM. 125 Tom Henling-Wade, Prisoner of the Japanese: From Changi to Tokyo (Kenthurst, Australia, 1994), p.43. 126 Major Thompson, diary entry for 27 February 1942, AWM. 127 Col. Shorland, diary transcript, IWM, p.3. 128 For Example, Pat Reid, The Colditz Story (London, 1958) and Colditz: The True Story (London, 1984), Paul Brickhill, The Great Escape (Greenwich, Conn., 1950), Richard Townsend-Bickers, HomeRun: Great R.A.F. Escapes of the Second World War (London, 1992). 129 John McGregor details his escape from Changi, and subsequent recapture, in Blood on the Rising Sun (no place or date of publication). 3 Initial POW adjustments to captivity: March–August 1942 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24

Major Gillies, diary entry for 3 April 1942, London, Imperial War Museum (IWM). Ibid. Major Shean, diary entry for 30 April 1942, IWM. Lt.-General Sir Lewis Macclesfield Heath, KBE, CB, CIE, DSO, MC, Commanding Officer, 3rd Indian Corps. Lt. Baillies, diary entry for 8 June 1942, IWM. For a more detailed examination of this see Peter Elphick, Singapore: The Pregnable Fortress, Chapter 13, ‘This Inglorious Business’ (London, 1995). Lt. Baillies, diary entry for 18 June 1942, IWM. Ibid., 23 June 1942. Ibid. Lt.-Col. S.H. Ashmore, ‘Some personnel observations of the Malayan Campaign 1940–42’, quoted in Louis Allen, Singapore 1941–1942 (London, 1977), p.199. General Wavell, 1 June 1942, London, Public Record Office (PRO), PREM 3/168/3. Timothy Hall, The Fall of Singapore, 1942 (Sydney, 1983), p.196. Memoir of Corporal J.G. ‘Tom’ Morris, Canberra, Australian War Memorial (AWM), p.36. Major P. Davies, 2nd Battalion The Loyal Regiment, diary transcript, IWM, p.6. Lt.-Col. Galleghan, ‘Interim Report’, AWM54 554/11/4/ Part 1, p.5. Lt. C. Baume, 137 Field Regiment Royal Artillery, diary entry for 10 May 1942, IWM. Squadron Leader H.A. Probert, History of Changi (Singapore, 1965), p.35. A pamphlet written by the RAF when Changi was a post-war air station. British and Australian POW Camp Changi, 1942, PRO, WO222/1352. Major Shean, diary entry for 2 March 1942, IWM. Gunner F.W. Christie, 2/4 Anti-Tank Regiment, diary entry for 6 March 1942, AWM, PR89/173. Reverend Chambers, diary entry for 9 April 1942, IWM, 91/35/1. Sergeant Romney, diary entry for 23 April 1942, IWM. Signaller Coombs, diary entry for 6 June 1942, IWM. Major Gillies, diary entry for 15 May 1942, IWM.

Notes 189 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74

Lt. W.W. Marsh, Royal Army Service Corps, diary entry for 14 April 1942, IWM. Russell Braddon, The Naked Island (London, 1951), p.154. Captain Horner, diary entry for 21 May 1942, IWM. Major Shean, diary entry for 12 March 1942, IWM. Lt. Marsh, diary entry for 10 June 1942, IWM. Major Thompson, diary entry for 19 May 1942, AWM. Recapitulation and Revision of AIF POW ADM Instns 1–14, 15 March 1942, AWM54 554/11/21. Major Thompson, diary entry for February 1942, AWM. Lt.-Col. Holmes, ‘Interim Report’, AWM54 554/11/4, Part 10, p.3. Lt. Baillies, diary transcript for undated period in March 1942, IWM. Major Thompson, diary entry for 1 March 1942, AWM. British and Australian POW Camp, Changi, March 1942, PRO, WO222/1352. Ibid. Lt.-Col. Galleghan, ‘Interim Report’, AWM54 554/11/4 Part 1, p.8. AIF War Diary, AWM54, 554/11/39, p.8. Lt.-Col. Galleghan, ‘Interim Report’, AWM54 554/11/4 Part 1, p.8. Sergeant Roxburgh, diary entry for 5 March 1942, AWM. Ibid. Ibid. Major Thompson, diary, AWM. Ibid., 13, 15 March 1942. Captain Horner, undated portion of diary, pre-May 1942, diary transcript, IWM, p.24. Ibid., diary entry for 22 May 1942. Lt. Young, diary entry for 5 July 1942, IWM. Ibid., 11 July 1942. Captain Horner, diary entry for 22 May 1942, IWM. Major Thompson, diary entry for 11, 15 May, 8 July 1942, AWM. AIF War Diary, AWM54 554/11/39, p.2. Major Thompson, diary entry for 9 July 1942, AWM. Ibid., 14 August 1942; AIF War Diary, AWM54, 554/11/39, p.11. Major Thompson, diary entry for 29 April 1942, AWM. Signaller Coombs, diary entry for 29 April, IWM. Major Thompson, diary entry for 22 April 1942, AWM. Major Gillies, diary entry for 18 April 1942, IWM. Major Thompson, diary entry for 5 March 1942, AWM. Gunner A.V. Toze, 122 Field Artillery, Royal Artillery, diary entry for 19 March 1942, IWM, 90/34/1a. Sergeant Roxburgh, diary entry for 17 March 1942, AWM. Major Gillies, diary entry for 22 May 1942, IWM. ‘Chronology of important events and moves of working parties from Changi PW Camp’, entry for 8 May 1942, AWM54 554/11/29. Major Thompson, diary entry for 4 May 1942, AWM. Ibid., 2 July 1942. Ibid., 7 July 1942. British and Australian POW Camp, Changi, ‘Malaria in POW Camp’, May 1942, PRO, WO222/1352. Major Thompson, diary entry for 9 July 1942, AWM. Major Shean, diary entry for 10 March 1942, IWM. Major Thompson, diary entry for 13 July 1942, AWM. Lt-Col. E.B. Holmes, Interim Report, AWM, p.2. Major Thompson, diary entry for 15 August 1942. Ibid., 28 August 1942. Major Shean, diary entry for 30 May 1942, IWM.

190 Notes 75 Article 23 of the 1929 Geneva Convention provided for the payment of officers, equivalent to the pay of the army of the detaining power. Other ranks could be paid for work done, W. Wynne Mason, Official History of New Zealand in the Second World War, 1939–45 (London, 1954), pp.148–50. The Japanese, although signatories to this document, had only agreed to apply it mutatis mutandis. In practice this did not mean a strict adherence to the provisions of the treaty, Ikuhiko Hata, ‘Japanese Military and Popular Perceptions of POWs’, in Bob Moore and Kent Fedorowich (eds) Prisoners of War and their Captors in World War II (Oxford, 1996), p.266. 76 Major Thompson, diary entry for 6 June 1942, AWM. 77 Ibid., 13 June 1942. 78 ‘Financial Assistance to POWs and Civilian Internees in Malaya and Singapore’, PRO, CO980/66. 79 Major Thompson, diary entry for 8 August, AWM. 80 AIF War Diary, AWM54 554/11/39, p.12. 81 Captain Malet, diary entry for 15 July 1942, IWM. 82 Ibid., 16 July 1942. 83 Sergeant Hodgson, diary entry for 2 March 1942, AWM. . 84 Lt. Young, diary entry for 9 March 1942, IWM. 85 Ibid. 86 ‘Routing of Mail to Imperial POWs in Japanese Hands’, 4 March 1942, PRO, WO32/1070. 87 ‘Summary of Events and Activities – AIF POW Camp, Changi’, AWM, 3DRL/2313, p.7. 88 Major Thompson, diary entry for 31 March 1942, AWM. 89 Ibid. 90 ‘Routing of Mail to Imperial POWs in Japanese Hands, F.O. to L.M.’, 13 August 1942, PRO, WO32/1070. 91 ‘Routing of Mail to Imperial POWs in Japanese Hands, L.M. to F.O.’, 15 August 1942, PRO, WO32/1070. 92 Sergeant Hodgson, diary entry for 17 April 1942, AWM. 93 Ibid. 94 Captain Malet, diary entry for 25 April 1942, IWM. 95 Captain Ledingham, diary entry for 15 May 1942, IWM. 96 Lt. Baillies, diary entry for 30 May 1942, IWM. 97 Private A.C. Dean, Cambridgeshire Regiment, Infantry Record Office to Dean family, letter dated 2 April 1942, IWM, 86/35/1. 98 Ibid., letter dated 3 April 1942. 99 Private Dean, Regimental Paymaster, Ilfracombe to Dean family, letter dated 27 May 1942, IWM. 100 Ibid. 101 Ibid., letter dated 22 April 1943. 102 AIF War Diary, AWM54 554/11/39, p.11. 103 Ibid. 104 The Times, 4 June 1942. 105 Report of the International Committee of the Red Cross on its Activities During the Second World War, Vol. 1, pp. 229–437. 106 ‘Conditions of POWs in the Far East’, Policy Regarding Publicity, Red Cross Memo, 3 February 1944, PRO, WO32/10739. 107 Major Thompson, diary entry for 20 June 1942, AWM. 108 Captain T.W. Mitchell, 2/9 Field Ambulance, AIF, AWM, 3DR/ 8004. 109 Ibid. 110 Lt. Baillies, diary entry for 20 June 1942, IWM. 111 Captain Horner, diary entry for 18 June 1942, IWM. 112 The Times, 14 August 1942.

Notes 191 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121 122 123

124 125 126 127 128 129 130 131 132 133 134 135 136 137 138 139 140 141

142 143 144 145

Staff Sergeant Burrey, diary entry for 27 August 1942, AWM. Major Thompson, diary entry for 13 March 1942, AWM. Ibid., 19 February 1942. Braddon, The Naked Island, p.154. Camp Order, 6 September 1945, AWM, PR86/191. Major Thompson, diary entry for 1 May 1942, AWM. Captain Horner, diary entry for 15 May 1942, IWM. Major Shean, letter to Brigadier H.F. Lucas, 5 May 1942, IWM. Lt. Baume, diary entry for 15 March 1942, IWM. Lt.-Col. Galleghan, ‘Interim Report’, AWM54 554/11/4 Part 1, p.2. The enclosed area of Changi was as follows: ‘The main Changi POW camp boundary fence runs from the junction of the Sungei Api and the Sungei Tampenis 1 1/2 miles west of the Selarang Barracks – southwards along the west bank of the Sungei Tampenis to the Tampenis Road just East of the 12th milestones – to the second bend (989166) in the main road Changi–Singapore half a mile South West of Changi Gaol – thence South East to the sea just south of Kg Ayer Genuruth’, ‘Recapitulation and Revision of AIF PW ADM Instructions’, 15 March 1942, AWM54 554/11/21. Sergeant Roxburgh diary entry for 15 March 1942, AWM. Ibid. Private J.R. Houghton, MS diary (161pp., Oct. 1941–Oct. 1945, describing his service as a private with the Loyal Regiment and as a POW at Changi, River Valley Road and in Japan. Diary entry for 3 March 1942, IWM. Captain Dickson, diary entry for 8 March 1942, IWM. Captain Malet, diary entry for 13 March 1942, IWM. Signaller Coombs, diary entry for 24 May 1942, IWM. Lt. Richardson, diary entry for 10 March 1942, IWM. British and Australian POW Camp, Changi, 1942–5, PRO, WO222/1352–55. Sergeant Hodgson, diary entry for 31 March 1942, AWM. PR89/051, AWM. Sergeant Hodgson, diary entry for 20 April 1942, AWM. Signaller Coombs, diary entry for 22 May 1942, IWM. British and Australian POW Camp Changi, 1942, WO222/1352. AIF Routine Orders, Nos. 17, 27, 41, 51, 96, 102, 133, 161, AWM, PR86/187. ‘Recapitulation and Revision of AIF PW ADM instructions’, 15 March 1942, AWM54 554/11/21. Major Thompson, diary entry for 20 March 1942, AWM. Lt. Young, diary entry for 24 March, IWM. The Indian National Army (INA) was an Indian military formation that fought on the side of the Japanese, against the British, between 1942 and 1945. The INA was the result of an informal alliance between the radical expatriate Indian political leaders of the Indian Independence League (IIL) and the Imperial Japanese Army (IJA). The INA existed in two distinct incarnations. It was raised and led initially by a disillusioned British-Indian Army Officer, Captain Mohan Singh, who had been captured in the opening stages of the Japanese invasion of Malaya. After the British surrender at Singapore in February 1942, Singh recruited Indian troops of the British army from Japanese prisoner of war camps with a view to eventually fighting the British in India. Disagreements between Singh and the Japanese, over both the intended size and the specific role of the INA, led to Singh’s dismissal. His replacement in June 1943 was a well-known political figure in the Indian independence movement, Subhas Chandra Bose. Major Thompson, diary entry for 31 March 1942, AWM. Major Shean, diary entry for 1 April 1942, AWM. Lt. Baume, diary entry for 7 April 1942, IWM. Sergeant Hodgson, diary entry for 31 March 1942, AWM.

192 Notes 146 Captain Gilbert Inglefield, 1/5 Battalion, Sherwood Foresters, transcript account, IWM, p.22. 147 Lt.-Col. Holmes, ‘Interim Report’, AWM, p.5. 148 ‘Allied POW in Japanese hands’, Partial translation of file of Singapore Garrison bulletins, dated Apr–June 1942, issued by 15 Independent Regiment, PRO, WO208/3485. 149 Major Thompson, diary entry for 18 April 1942, AWM. 150 Captain Malet, diary entry for 17 April 1942, IWM. 151 Ibid. 152 Sergeant Romney, diary entry for 16 April, IWM. 153 Ibid. 154 Major Thompson, diary entry for 18 August 1942, AWM. 155 Ibid. 156 Ibid., 19 August 1942. 157 18th Division Order, 22 March 1942, IWM. 158 British and Australian POW Camp, Changi, March 1942, WO222/1352, PRO. 159 18th Division Order, 22 March 1942, IWM. 160 Major Thompson, diary entry for 1 March 1942, AWM. 161 Captain Horner, diary entry for 13 June 1942, IWM. 162 Lt. Baillies, diary entry for 19 June 1942, IWM. 163 Captain Malet, diary entry for 15 June 1942, IWM. 164 Ibid. 165 Ibid. 166 Major Thompson, diary entry for 18 July 1942, AWM. 167 Special Order by Major-General Callaghan, Q.1281, 20 July 1942, AWM 3DRL 2313. 168 Lt.-Col. Galleghan, ‘Interim Report’, AWM54 554/11/4 Part I, p.3. 169 Major Thompson, diary entry for 21 July 1942, AWM. 170 AIF War Diary, AWM54 554/11/39, p.1. 171 Major Shean, diary entry for 17 August 1942, IWM. 172 Lt.-Col. Holmes, ‘Interim Report’, AWM, p.4. 173 Now Taiwan. 174 Probert, History of Changi, p. 46; also Percival, The War Malaya (London, 1949), p.313. 175 Major Thompson, diary entry for 16 August 1942, AWM. 176 Lt. Baillies, diary entry for 18 August 1942, IWM. 177 Ibid., 22 June 1942. 178 Signaller Coombs, diary entry for 28 June 1942, IWM. 179 Sergeant Romney, diary entry for 15 May 1942, IWM. 180 Major Thompson, diary entry for 17 July 1942, AWM. 181 Lt. Baillies, diary entry for 24 June 1942, IWM. 182 Sergeant Hodgson, diary entry for 7 May 1942, AWM. 183 Ibid., 8 May 1942. 184 Private Edmund Broad, diary entry for 10 August 1942, AWM 749/13/14. 185 Captain Horner, diary entry for 17 August 1942, IWM. 186 Major Thompson, diary entry for 30 August 1942, AWM. 4 The Selarang barrack square incident 1 Lt.-Col. Holmes, ‘Interim Report’, Canberra, Australian War Memorial (AWM), AWM54 554/11/4 Part 10, p.4. 2 British and Australian POW Camp Changi, 1942, London, Public Record Office (PRO), WO222/1352. 3 ‘Documents Relating to POW Camps in the Far East’, Account of Signalman C. Bailey, Royal Corps of Signals, dated 10 December 1945, PRO, WO32/14550.

Notes 193 4 Lt.-Col. Holmes, ‘Interim Report’, AWM54 554/11/4 Part 10, p.4. 5 Selarang Declaration Form, London, Imperial War Museum (IWM), Misc.31/ Item 31. Reproduced at Appendix 2, p. 000. 6 Lt. Baillies, diary entry for 30 August 1942, IWM. 7 Private Broad, diary entry for 30 August 1942, AWM. 8 ‘Documents Relating to POW Camps in the Far East’, Report by Lt.-Col. Holmes on the Selarang Barrack Square Incident, 13 October 1945, PRO, WO32/14550. 9 ‘Documents Relating to POW Camps in the Far East’, Report by Lt.-Col. Holmes on the Selarang Barrack Square Incident, Withers Payne to Holmes, 31 August 1942, PRO, WO32/14550. 10 Ibid., Okasaki to Holmes, 31 August 1942. 11 Lt.-Col. Holmes, ‘Interim Report’, AWM54 554/11/4 Part 10, p.4. 12 Okasaki to Holmes, 31 August 1942, PRO, WO32/14550. 13 Lt.-Col. Holmes, ‘Interim Report’, AWM54 554/11/4 Part 10, p.4. 14 Ibid. 15 Ibid. 16 Barrack square concentration: ‘Sequence of Events’ from 1–5 Sep., AWM, 3DRL 2313. 17 Ibid. 18 Ibid. 19 Accommodation on move to Selarang barracks, AWM54 554/11/18, Q.39/26. 20 Ibid. 21 Captain Wilkinson, diary entry for 2 September 1942, IWM. 22 Lt. Richardson, diary entry for 2 September 1942, IWM. 23 Account of Lt.-Col. D.S. Ainger, Cambridge, Royal Commonwealth Society (RCS), p.22. 24 Captain Rogers, diary entry for 3 September 1942, AWM PR85/145. 25 Lt. Baillies thought the square to be 160 [x] 250 yards. F.W.G. Power believes 140 [x] 270 yards was a closer approximation: F.W.G. Power, Kurragh! An Australian POW in Changi, Thailand and Japan, 1942–1945 (Melbourne, 1991), p.44. while Galleghan himself estimated 150 [x] 250 yards, ‘Sequence of Events’, p.1, AWM. 26 Lt.-Col. Galleghan, ‘Sequence of Events’, p.1, and Holmes, ‘Interim Report’, p.4, AWM. 27 Major Thompson, diary entry for 2 September 1942, AWM. 28 Lt.-Col. Galleghan, ‘Sequence of Events’, AWM, p.1. 29 Power, Kurragh!, p.44. 30 Lt. Baillies, diary entry for 2 September 1942, IWM. 31 Captain Inglefield, IWM, p.33. 32 Lt. Lindsay Faulkner Orr, Australian Army Service Corps, diary entry for 2 September 1942, AWM, PR89/77. 33 AIF Quartermaster Narrative, diary entry for 2 September 1942, AWM54 554/11/18. 34 Ibid. 35 Captain Inglefield, IWM, p.33. 36 Major Francis Magee, 21 August 1945, AWM, 3DRL 2313, Copy of statement supplied as a witness for AIF HQ Changi. Magee’s original testimony claimed that the Indian driver came to him on 2 September. Magee later changed his mind over the dates after ‘referring to contemporaneous entries in my diary’ and added a statement to his evidence making this fact clear. He did this on 22 August 1945. 37 Major Francis Magee, 22 August 1945, AWM, 3DRL 2313. 38 Lt.-Col. Holmes, testimony taken on 22 August 1945, AWM, 3DRL 2313. 39 Ibid. 40 Ibid. 41 Captain Basil Cadbury Jones, 21 August 1945, AWM, 3DRL 2313. 42 Major Francis Magee, 22 August 1945, AWM, 3DRL 2313.

194 Notes 43 ‘Re: Cpl Breavington and Pte. Gale.’ AWM, 3DRL 2313, p.1. 44 Galleghan to Mrs R.E. Breavington, letter dated 3 September 1942, AWM, 3DRL 2313. 45 Lt.-Col. Stanley Wakefield Harris, Commanding 148 Field Regiment RA, 23 August 1945, AWM, 3DRL 2313. 46 Lt. Baillies, diary entry for September 2nd 1942, IWM. 47 Lt.-Col. Galleghan, ‘Sequence of Events’, 2 September 1942, AWM, 3DRL 2313. 48 Ibid. 49 Ibid. 50 Ibid. 51 E. Holden, Royal Army Ordinance Corps, transcript memoir written 1945–6, IWM, p.5. 52 Lt. Baillies, diary entry for 3 September 1942, IWM. 53 Lt.-Col. Galleghan, ‘Sequence of Events’, AWM, p.2. 54 AIF Quartermaster Narrative, diary entry for 2 September 1942, AWM54 554/11/18. 55 Lt.-Col. Galleghan, ‘Sequence of Events’, 3 September 1942, AWM. 56 J.W. Franks, 18th Division RASC, 81pp. account written c. 1986 covering period from February 15 1942–August 15 1945, p.14. Franks also commented that ‘the Singapore temperature seldom varied between 85–90 degrees’. 57 Lt.-Col. Galleghan, ‘Sequence of Events’, 3 September 1942, AWM. 58 Signaller Coombs, diary entry for 2 September 1942, IWM. 59 Captain Wilkinson, diary entry for 4 September 1942, IWM. 60 Ibid. 61 Lt.-Col. Galleghan, ‘Sequence of Events’, 16.00 hrs, 3 September 1942, AWM. 62 Signaller Coombs, diary entry for 3 September 1942, IWM. 63 Lt. Baillies, diary entry for 4 September 1942, IWM. 64 Lt.-Col. Galleghan, ‘Sequence of Events’, 16.00 hrs, 3 September 1942, AWM. 65 Ibid. 66 Ibid. 67 Ibid. 68 Lt.-Col. Galleghan, ‘Sequence of Events’, 4 September 1942, AWM. 69 Ibid. 70 Ibid. 71 Bombardier S. Warren, 135 Field Artillery, diary entry for 4 September 1942, IWM. 72 Lt. Baillies, diary entry for 5 September 1942, IWM. 73 Lt.-Col. Galleghan, ‘Sequence of Events’, 4 September 1942, AWM. 74 Lt.-Col. Glyn White, ‘Medical Appreciation’, 4 September 1942, AWM54 554/11/18. 75 Lt.-Col. Holmes, ‘Interim Report’, AWM, p.4. 76 Ibid. 77 Lt.-Col. Glyn White, ‘Medical Appreciation’, AWM. 78 Lt.-Col. Galleghan, ‘Sequence of Events’, 4 September 1942, AWM. 79 Ibid. 80 Ibid. 81 Ibid. 82 Ibid. 83 Ibid. 84 Lt. Baillies, diary entry for 5 September 1942, IWM. 85 Lt.-Col. Holmes, Selarang Special Order No. 3, 4 September 1942, IWM, Misc. 147/ Item 2308. Reproduced at Appendix 3, p.000. 86 Lt. Baillies, diary entry for 30 August 1942, IWM. 87 Captain Inglefield, IWM, p.31. 88 Ibid., p.34. 89 A.E. Percival, The War in Malaya (London, 1949), p.313. 90 Lt. C. Thornton, Federated Malay States Volunteer Force (FMSVF), transcript of contemporary journals written in two (49pp. and 46pp.) exercise books, p.85.

Notes 195 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 105 106 107 108 109 110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121 122 123 124 125 126 127 128 129 130

Lt. Orr, diary entry for 2 September 1942, AWM. Captain Malet, diary entry for 4 September 1942, IWM. Captain Inglefield, IWM, p.34. Major Gillies, diary entry for 5 September 1942, IWM. Lt.-Col. Galleghan, ‘Sequence of Events’, 4 September 1942, AWM. Captain Inglefield, IWM, p.35. Ibid., p.86. Lt. Thornton, IWM, p.87. Letter from Craven to Galleghan, 5 September 1942, AWM 3DRL 2313. Ibid. Letter from Galleghan to Craven, 8 September 1942, AWM 3DRL 2313. Lt.-Col. Galleghan, ‘Sequence of Events’, 3 September 1942, AWM. Stan Arneil, Black Jack: The Life and Times of Brigadier Sir Frederick Galleghan (Melbourne, 1983), p.114. Major Gillies, diary entry for 5 September 1942, IWM. James Scott, Domination and the Arts of Resistance (Yale, 1990), p.65. Captain Wilkinson, diary entry for 4 September 1942, IWM. Captain Rogers, diary entry for 6 September 1942, IWM. Signaller Coombs, diary entry for 4 September 1942, IWM. Lt. Baillies, diary entry for 5 September 1942, IWM. Sapper E.W. Whincup, 560 Company Royal Engineers, transcript account, IWM, p.10. Major Gillies, diary transcript, IWM, p.60. Lt.-Col. Galleghan, ‘Sequence of Events’, 3 September 1942, AWM. Signaller Coombs, diary entry for 4 September 1942, IWM. Letter No. Selarang 11/A, 4 September 1942, IWM, Misc. 147 reproduced in full at Appendix 4, p.000. Ibid. Lt.-Col. Holmes, Selarang Special Order No. 3, 4 September 1942, IWM, Misc. 147/ Item 2308. Ibid. Lt. R.J.P. Garden, printed memoir, IWM, 92/35/7, p.98. Lt. Richardson, diary entry for 5 September 1942, IWM. Captain Wilkinson, diary entry for 5 September 1942, IWM. Lt. Baillies, diary entry for 5 September 1942, IWM. Captain Ledingham, 20 Combined General Hospital, RAMC, diary written on the leaves of The Albatross Book of Living Verse, p.8. Ibid. Lt.-Col. Galleghan, ‘Sequence of Events’, 3 September 1942, AWM. E. Holden, IWM, p.4. Major Gillies, diary entry for 5 September 1942, IWM. Signaller Coombs, diary entry for 5 September 1942, IWM. Flying Officer R.D. Dodds, Royal Airforce Volunteer Reserve (printed diary), diary entry for 5 September 1942, IWM, 86/7/1. Franks, IWM, p.15. Major Gillies, diary entry for 2 September, IWM.

5 Changi: September 1942–September 1943, part I 1 British and Australian POW Camp, Changi, 1942–43, London, Public Record Office (PRO), WO222/1353, 1354. 2 Signaller Coombs, diary entry for 23 October 1942, London, Imperial War Museum (IWM). 3 Private Houghton, diary entry for 23 October 1942, IWM.

196 Notes 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49

Major Braganza, diary entry for 24 March 1943, IWM. Major Gillies, diary entry for 24 October 1942, IWM. Captain Malet, diary entry for 12 September 1942, IWM. Lt. Baillies, diary entry for 1 November 1942, IWM. Sergeant Romney, diary entry for 8 October 1942, IWM. Captain Wilkinson, diary entry for 23 April 1943, IWM. Col. Shorland, diary entry for 30 October 1942, IWM. Ibid., 5 November 1942. Captain Horner, diary entry for 31 October 1942. Ibid., 9 May 1943. AIF Routine Order No. 12, 15 October 1942, Canberra, Australian War Memorial (AWM), PR86/187. Captain Malet, diary entry for 17 September 1942, IWM. Ibid., 23 October 1942. Malet’s diary was returned to his family and donated posthumously to the Imperial War Museum. Col. Shorland, diary entry for 30 October 1942, IWM. Major Thompson, diary entry for 1 April 1943, AWM. Ibid., 7 September 1943. Stan Arneil, Black Jack: The Life and Times of Brigadier Sir Frederick Galleghan (Melbourne, 1983), p.120. AIF Routine Order No. 149, ‘Batmen’, 14 April 1943, AWM, PR86/187. Major Shean, diary entry for 3 May 1943, IWM. Captain Malet, diary entry for 14 October 1942, IWM. Major Thompson, diary for 30 April 1943, AWM. Captain Rogers, diary entry for 2 May 1943, AWM. Summary of Events and Activities, AIF POW Camp, AWM, 3DRL 2313, p.5. Major Thompson, diary entry for 10 May 1943, AWM. Col. Shorland, diary entry for 30 April 1943, IWM. Major Shean, diary entry for 30 May 1943, IWM. Major Thompson, diary entry for 12 August 1943, AWM. Col. Shorland, diary entry for 4 July 1943, IWM. Captain Ledingham, diary entry for 21 June 1943, IWM. Captain Rogers, dairy entry for 21 May 1943, AWM. Lt. Orr, diary entry for 28 June 1943, AWM. Major Thompson, diary entry for 19 December 1942, Canberra, Australian War Memorial, (AWM), PR00016–2. AIF Routine Order No. 72, ‘Discipline: Personnel returning from Singapore’, 22 December 1942, AWM, PR86/187. AIF Routine Order No. 75, ‘Beards’, 27 December 1942, AWM, PR86/187. AIF Routine Order No. 70, ‘Camp Routine’, 22 December 1942, AWM, PR86/187. AIF Routine Order No. 90, ‘Sunday’, 23 January 1943, AWM, PR86/187. Captain Rogers, diary entry for 24 December 1942, AWM. Captain H.D.A. Yates, Royal Artillery, journal written shortly before the Japanese surrender in 1945, London, Imperial War Museum (IWM), p.37. Captain Yates, IWM, p. 37. Corporal A.G. Thompson, 2/6 Field Company, Royal Australian Engineers, diary entry for 7 January 1943, AWM, PR89/167. Lance-Corporal Kenneth Heyes, 1 Australian Corps Troop Supply Column, diary entry for 7 January 1943, AWM, PR86/232. Major Thompson, diary entry for 14 September 1943, AWM. Lt. Orr, diary entry for 15 September 1943, AWM. Major Shean, diary entry for 16 September 1943, IWM. Major Gillies, diary entry for 24 October 1942, IWM.

Notes 197 50 AIF Routine Order No. 30, ‘Java Parties’, 8 November 1942, AWM, PR86/187. 51 AIF Routine Order No. 34, ‘Discipline and Movement: Java Parties’, 14 November 1942, AWM. 52 Captain Yates, IWM, p.37. 53 Corporal Thompson, diary entry for 14 January 1943, AWM. 54 Lt.-Col. E.E. Dunlop to Lt.-Col. Galleghan, 9 January 1943, AWM, 3DRL 2313. 55 Brigadier A.S. Blackburn to Lt.-Col. Galleghan, 9 January 1943, AWM, 3DRL 2313. 56 Lt.-Col. Galleghan, 11 January 1943, AWM, 3DRL 2313. 57 Lt.-Col. E.E. Dunlop to Lt.-Col. Galleghan, 9 January 1943. 58 Lt.-Col. Holmes, ‘Interim Report on British and Australian POW Camps, Singapore Island, 17 August 1942 to 31 August 1945’, AWM54 554/11/4 Part 10, p.6. 59 Major Shean, diary entry for 26 September 1942, IWM. 60 Major Thompson, diary entry for 6 September 1942, AWM. 61 Col. Shorland, diary entry for 20 November 1942, IWM. 62 Major Thompson, diary entry for 17 February 1943, AWM. 63 AIF Routine Order No. 118, ‘Moves’, 27 February 1943, AWM, PR86/187. 64 AIF Routine Order No. 138, ‘Discipline-Saluting’, 1 April 1943, AWM, PR86/187. 65 Captain Rogers, diary entry for 24 April 1943, AWM. 66 Captain Wilkinson, diary entry for 20 October 1942, IWM. 67 Major Shean, diary entry for 9 April 1943, IWM. 68 Allegedly, while on a visit to the Imperial War Museum to donate the diary cited here, Shean, by then a retired brigadier, took a keen interest in the degree to which Museum staff’s shoes had been polished, or otherwise, a state of affairs with which he was apparently unimpressed. Dr Rodderick Suddaby to author, March 1998. 69 Major Thompson, diary entry for 1 June 1943, AWM. 70 AIF Routine Order No. 156, ‘Bounds’, 7 June 1943, AWM, PR86/187. 71 Major Thompson, diary entry for 24 May 1943, AWM. 72 AIF Routine Order No. 159, ‘Bounds’, 13 June 1943, AWM, PR86/187. 73 Major Thompson, diary entry for 27 July 1943, AWM. 74 An anonymous Australian Officer, diary entry for 29 July 1943, AWM. 75 Major Thompson, diary entry for 31 July 1943, AWM. 76 Major Shean, diary entry for 25 July 1943, IWM. 77 Lt.-Col. Holmes, ‘Interim Report on British and Australian POW Camps, Singapore Island, 17 August 1942 to 31 August 1945’, AWM54 554/11/ 4 Part 10, p.7. 78 Major Thompson, diary entry for 12 May 1943, AWM. 79 Ibid., 10 July 1943. Outram Road was the Japanese punishment prison where troublesome POWs and civilian internees were sent. For an examination of life there see John McGregor, Blood on the Rising Sun (no date or place of publication). 80 Major Thompson, diary entry for 13 July 1943, AWM. 81 Ibid., 19 July 1943. 82 Captain Rogers, diary entry for 19 August 1943, AWM. 83 Major Thompson, diary entries for 17, 29 August, 3 September 1943, AWM. 84 An anonymous Australian Officer, diary entry for 4 September 1943, AWM. 85 Ibid. 86 Lt.-Col. Galleghan, ‘Interim Report’, AWM54 554/11/4 p.7. 87 Major Thompson, diary entry for 22 May 1943, AWM. 88 Ibid. 89 Captain Rogers, diary entry for 26 April 1943, AWM. 90 An anonymous Australian officer, diary entry for 27 April 1943, AWM. 6 Changi: September 1942–September 1943, part II 1 Captain Wilkinson, diary entry for 25 December 1942, IWM. 2 Major Thompson, diary entry for 3 January 1943, AWM.

198 Notes 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55

Ibid., 20 December 1942. Captain Wilkinson, diary entry for 22 December 1942, IWM. Private Sowter, diary entry for 15 January 1943, IWM. Col. Shorland, diary entry for 8 December 1942, IWM. Major Gillies, diary entry for 3 January 1943, IWM. Ibid. Captain Dickson, diary entry for 10 January 1943, IWM. Captain Rogers, diary entry for 8 January 1943, AWM. Ibid. Major Shean, diary entry for 6 May 1943, IWM. Captain Rogers, diary entry for 15 February 1943, AWM. Captain Ledingham, diary entry for 5 March 1943, IWM. Ibid., 22 May 1943. Captain Rogers, diary entry for 15 February 1943, AWM. Staff Sergeant Burrey, diary entry for 15 February 1943, AWM. Major Shean, diary entry for 16 February 1943, IWM. Staff Sergeant Burrey, diary entry for 31 March 1943, AWM. Ibid., 2 April 1943. Captain Wilkinson, diary entry for 13 March 1943, IWM. Col. Shorland, diary entry for 27 February 1943, IWM. Ibid., 8 December 1942. Lt. Orr, diary entry for 10 July 1943, AWM. Major Shean, diary entry for 13 August 1943, IWM. Staff Sergeant Burrey, diary entry for 15 January 1943, AWM. Ibid., 29 March 1943. Signaller Coombs, diary entry for 26 September 1942, IWM. Major Thompson, diary entry for 30 September 1942, AWM. Private Houghton, diary entry for 5 October 1942, IWM. Lt. Baillies, diary entry for 7 October 1942, IWM. Signaller Coombs, diary entry for 10 October 1942, IWM. Sergeant Romney, diary entry for 7 October 1942, IWM. Col. Shorland, diary entry for 8 December 1942, IWM. Lt.-Col. Holmes, ‘Interim Report’, AWM, p.5. Major Shean, diary entry for 20 September 1942, IWM. Captain Ledingham, diary entry for 13 September 1942, IWM. AIF Routine Orders No. 22, ‘Repatriation or Non-Combatant Status’, 30 October 1942, AWM, PR86/187. Private Sowter, diary entry for 1 August 1943, IWM. Ibid., 24 June 1943. Captain Horner, diary entry for 13 September 1942, IWM. Major Thompson, diary entry for 12 September 1942, AWM. Captain Horner, diary entry for 2 April 1943, IWM. 28 December 1944, ‘Chronology of Important Events’, AWM54 554/11/29. Major Thompson, diary entry for 14, 15 October 1942, AWM. Lt.-Col. Holmes, ‘Interim Report’, AWM, p.5. Major Thompson, diary entry for 19 September 1942, AWM. Lt. Baillies, diary entry for 22 September 1942, IWM. Captain Horner, diary entry for 17 September 1942, IWM. Sergeant Romney, diary entry for 22 September 1942, IWM. Major Thompson, diary entry for 19 December 1942, AWM. Captain Wilkinson, diary entry for 29 December 1942, IWM. British and Australian POW Camp, Changi, December 1942, PRO, WO222/1352. Major Thompson, diary entry for 31 December 1942, AWM. AIF War Diary, AWM, AWM54 554/11/39, p.5.

Notes 199 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 105

Lt. Orr, diary entry for 1 February 1943, AWM. Ibid., 2 March 1943. Staff Sergeant Burrey, diary entry for 24 February 1943, AWM. Major Gillies, diary entry for 3 February 1943, IWM. AIF Routine Order No. 93, ‘Rice Polishings’, 2 February 1943, AWM, PR86/187. Major Thompson, diary entry for 11 July 1943, AWM. Lt. Orr, diary entry for 8 July 1943, AWM. Ibid. Major Gillies, diary entry for undated period in early February 1943, IWM. Captain Ledingham, diary entry for 15 February 1943, IWM. Private Sowter, diary entry for 15 January 1943, IWM. 18 February 1943, Chronology of Important Events, AWM54 554/11/29. Major Thompson, diary entry for 12 January 1943, AWM. Ibid., 27 January 1943. Captain Wilkinson, diary entry for 15 December 1942, IWM. Major Gillies, diary entry for 20 December 1942, IWM. Major Gillies, diary entry for 1 December 1942, IWM. Ibid. Ibid. Lt.-Col. Galleghan, ‘Interim Report’, AWM, p.8. Major Gillies, diary entry for 20 December 1942, IWM. Ibid., 27 December 1942. Ibid., undated period in February/March 1943, p.123 of diary transcript. Captain Ledingham, diary entry for 18 December 1942, IWM. Major Thompson, diary entry for 23 January 1943, AWM. Captain Horner, diary entry for 3 February 1943, IWM. Major Gillies, diary entry for 3 January 1943, IWM. Ibid. Major Thompson, diary entry for 22 February 1943, AWM. Major Shean, diary entry for 24 February 1943, IWM. Captain Rogers, diary entry for 23 February 1943, AWM. Ibid. Major Thompson, diary entry for 1 March 1943, AWM. Ibid., 3 March 1942. Lt.-Col. Galleghan, ‘Interim Report’, AWM, p.8. Major Thompson, diary entry for 4 March 1943, AWM. Ibid., 8 March 1943. Warrant Officer Jack Kerr, Australian Army Ordinance Corps, AWM, PR86/191. Staff Sergeant Burrey, diary entry for 6 March 1943, AWM. Ibid., 13 March 1943. Captain Rogers, diary entry for 26 March 1943, AWM. Col. Shorland, diary entry for 25 March 1943, IWM. Major Thompson, diary entry for 6 September 1943, AWM. Major Shean, diary entry for 19 September 1943, AWM. Lt.-Col. Holmes, ‘Interim Report’, AWM, p.9. ‘Notes of First Conference of Area Commanders and H.Q. Staff held by Lt. Col. Galleghan’, 30 July 1942, AWM, 3DRL 2313. AIF Routine Order No. 2, ‘Discipline – Saluting’, 11 October 1942, AWM, PR 86/187. Ibid. AIF Routine Order No. 29, ‘Saluting of IJA and Indian Personnel’, 8 November 1942, AWM, PR86/187. ‘Parties of Senior Officers at Supervising Office’, 3 December 1942, AWM, 3DRL 2313.

200 Notes 106 AIF Routine Order No. 58, ‘Singing-Changi Road’, 1 December 1942, AWM, PR96/187. 107 AIF Routine Order No. 100, ‘Salt Water Pty-Swimming’, 4 February 1943, AWM. 108 Major Shean, diary entry for 25 July 1943, IWM. 109 AIF Routine Order No. 176, ‘Trading and Communication with IJA Soldiers and Asiatics’, 25 July 1943, AWM, PR86/187. 110 Captain Rogers, diary entry for 29 July 1943, AWM. 111 AIF Routine Order No. 179, ‘Discipline – Perimeter Wire’, 26 July 1943, AWM, PR 86/187. 112 AIF Routine Order No. 31, ‘Trading’, 19 February 1943, AWM, PR86/187. 113 Captain Thompson, diary entry for 13 November 1942, AWM. 114 AIF Routine Order No. 31, ‘Roll Calls’, 13 November 1942. AWM, PR86/187. 115 AIF Routine Order No. 42, ‘Absentees – Roll Calls’, 16 November 1942, AWM, PR86/187. 116 Major Gillies, undated period of diary, September 1942, IWM. 117 James Scott, Domination and the Arts of Resistance (Yale, 1990), p.61. 118 AIF Routine Order No. 73, ‘Movement Outside Camp Wired Areas’, 27 December 1942, AWM, PR86/187. 119 AIF Routine Order No. 98, ‘Discipline’, 4 February 1943, AWM, PR86/187. 120 Lt.-Col. Galleghan, ‘Interim Report’, AWM, p.10. 121 AIF Routine Order No. 184, ‘Discipline – IJA Officers’, 14 August 1943, AWM, PR 86/187. 122 Captain Wilkinson, diary entry for 31 December 1942, IWM. 7 Return from the railway: September 1943–May 1944 1 British and Australian POW Camp Changi, 1943, AIF Monthly Report, September 1943, London, Public Record Office (PRO), WO222/1353. 2 British and Australian POW Camp Changi, 1943, AIF Monthly Report, October 1943, PRO, WO222/1353. 3 Major Thompson, diary entry for 18 September 1943, Canberra, Australian War Memorial (AWM). 4 Ibid., 21 September 1943. 5 Ibid., 23 September 1943. 6 Ibid., 3 October 1943. 7 Ibid., 9 October 1943. 8 Captain Rogers, diary entry for 26 October 1943, AWM. 9 Ibid. 10 Lt. Orr, diary entry for 16 October 1943, AWM. 11 Lt.-Col. Holmes, ‘Interim Report’, AWM54 554/11/4, p.5. 12 Major Thompson, diary entry for 6 November 1943, AWM. 13 Ibid. 14 Ibid., 16 December 1943. 15 Major Shean, 17 December 1943. 16 Ibid. 17 Major Thompson, diary entry for 17 December 1943, AWM. 18 Captain Rogers, diary entry for 18 December 1943, AWM. 19 Major Thompson, diary entry for 10 January 1944, AWM. 20 AIF Routine Order No. 235, ‘Medical’, 26 January 1944, AWM, PR 86/187. 21 Major Thompson, diary entry for 1 January 1944, AWM. 22 Glenleigh Skewes, diary transcript, p.113, AWM, PR88/128. 23 Captain Wilkinson, diary entry for 1 January 1944, IWM. 24 Ibid., 5 February 1944. 25 Captain Rogers, diary entry for 26 December 1943, AWM.

Notes 201 26 Staff Sergeant Burrey, diary entry for 18 December 1943, AWM. 27 An anonymous Australian Officer, ‘for certain reasons this story has been held in abeyance for some months but I will try and fill in the gaps between last Nov. and the present time July 1944’. 28 AIF Routine Order No. 230, ‘Engineering Studentship’, 11 January 1944, AWM, PR86/187. 29 AWM, PR86/187, AIF Routine Order No. 231, ‘Camp Areas’, 11 January 1944, AWM, PR86/187. 30 AIF Routine Order No. 198, ‘Fire Precautions – Smoking’, 15 September 1943, AWM, PR86/187. 31 Major Thompson, diary entry for 15 September 1943, AWM. 32 Glenleigh Skewes, diary transcript, p.113. 33 P. Allwood, ‘Greater part of this diary written at Pratchai in Sept. 1945, based mainly on contemporary notes’, IWM. 34 British and Australian POW Camp Changi, 1943, Monthly Report, 31 January 1944, PRO, WO222/1354. 35 Major Thompson, diary entries for 26, 28 January 1944, AWM. 36 Ibid., 31 January 1944. 37 Ibid., 4 February 1944. 38 Ibid., 7 February 1944. 39 Lt.-Col. Galleghan, ‘Interim Report’, AWM, p.12. 40 British and Australian POW Camp Changi, 1944, Monthly Report, March 1944, ‘Addendum for addition to Monthly Report to IJA on Manpower’, PRO, WO222/1354. 41 Ibid. 42 Major Thompson, diary entry for 20 October 1943, AWM. 43 AIF Routine Order No. 214, ‘Football and Boxing’, 29 October 1943, AWM, PR 86/187. 44 Major Thompson, diary entry for 1 April 1944, AWM. 45 Major Shean, diary entry for 28 November 1943, IWM. 46 Col. Shorland, diary entry for 9 December 1943, IWM. 47 Major Shean, diary entry for 8 December 1943, IWM. 48 David Nelson, The Story of Changi (West Perth, 1973), p.121. 49 Major Thompson, diary entry for 9 December 1943, AWM. 50 Major Shean diary entry for 5 December 1943, IWM. 51 Ibid., 28 November 1943. 52 Major Thompson, diary entry for 3 March 1944, AWM. 53 Ibid., 4 March 1944. 54 Major Shean, diary entry for 12 March 1944, IWM. 55 Sergeant Romney, diary entry for 9 October 1943, IWM. 56 Major Thompson, diary entry for 7 December 1943, AWM. 57 Lt.-Col. Holmes, ‘Interim Report’, AWM, p.8. 58 Captain Rogers, diary entry for 22 March 1944, AWM. 59 Captain Wilkinson, diary entry for 3 April 1944, IWM. 60 Major Thompson, diary entry for 26 March 1944, AWM. 61 Ibid., 28 March 1944. 62 Ibid., 2 April 1944. 63 Ibid., 4 April 1944. 64 Major Shean, diary entry for 7 April 1944, IWM. 65 Major Thompson, diary entry for 10 April 1944, AWM. 66 Ibid., 11 April 1944. 67 Ibid., 14 April 1944. 68 ‘Allied POW in Japanese hands, Partial translation of file of Singapore Garrison bulletins’, dated Apr–Jun 42, issued by 15 Independent Regiment, PRO, WO208/3485.

202 Notes 69 Captain Rogers, diary entry for 8 April 1944, AWM. 70 AIF Routine Order Nos. 219 and 220, ‘Discipline – badges of rank’ and ‘Saluting without Headgear’, 10, 14 November 1943, AWM, PR86/187. 71 Lt.-Col. Galleghan, ‘Interim Report’, AWM, p. 9. 72 Ibid., p.10. 73 Major Thompson, diary entry for 3 October 1943, AWM. 74 Ibid., 25 April 1944. 75 Lt.-Col. Holmes, ‘Interim Report’, AWM, p.9. 76 Ibid., 25 April 1944. 77 See, ‘Medical Reports, F, H and M Forces’, 1942–1944, PRO, WO222/1356, for a detailed analysis of the medical ailments these men were suffering from. 78 Major Shean, diary entry for 25 April 1944, IWM. 79 Major Gillies, diary transcript, p.133. 8 Changi gaol: May 1944–September 1945 1 Captain Wilkinson, diary entry for 1 May 1944, London, Imperial War Museum (IWM). 2 Ibid., 14 May 1944, IWM. 3 Private Sowter, diary entry for 18 May 1944. 4 Col. Shorland, diary entry for 11 July 1944, IWM. 5 Staff Sergeant Burrey, diary entry for 9 May 1944, Canberra, Australian War Memorial (AWM). 6 Captain Wilkinson, diary entry for 8 June 1944, IWM. 7 Lt. Orr, diary entry for 14 June 1944, AWM. 8 Major Thompson, diary entry for 14 May 1944, AWM. 9 Ibid., 22 May 1944. 10 Captain Rogers, diary entry for 24 May 1944, AWM. 11 Staff Sergeant Burrey, diary entry for 21 May 1944, AWM. 12 Captain Wilkinson, diary entry for 28 June 1944, IWM. 13 Ibid., 28 June 1944. 14 Major Shean, diary entry for 25 June 1944, IWM. 15 AIF Routine Order No. 70, ‘Swimming Parades’, 15 September 1944, AWM, PR86/191. 16 Major Gillies, diary entry for 21 May 1944, IWM. 17 Ibid., 10 June 1944. 18 Camp Order No. 119, ‘Paper’, 31 August 1944, AWM, PR86/191. 19 Lt.-Col. Galleghan, ‘Interim Report’, AWM54 554/11/4 Part 1, p.23. 20 Major Thompson, diary entry for 21 July 1944, IWM. 21 Ibid., 23 July 1944. 22 Lt.-Col. Holmes, ‘Interim Report on British and Australian POW Camps, Singapore Island, 17 August 1942 to 31 August 1945’, AWM54 554/11/ 4 Part 10, p.9. 23 Lt.-Col. Newey, ‘Report on H Force’, i/c H5 Battalion, dated 5 May 1945, IWM 85/50/1. 24 Captain Wilkinson, diary entry for 3 September 1944, IWM. 25 Captain Horner, diary entry for 21 July 1944, IWM. 26 Major Shean, diary entry for 23 July 1944, IWM. 27 David Nelson, The Story of Changi (West Perth, 1973), p.145. 28 Major Gillies, diary entry for 26 July 1944, IWM. 29 Col. Shorland, diary entry for 11 August 1944, IWM. 30 Captain Wilkinson, diary entry for 3 September 1944, IWM. 31 Lt.-Col. Galleghan, ‘Interim Report’, AWM, p.19. 32 Major Gillies, diary entry for 30 July 1944, IWM. 33 Major Thompson, diary entry for 23 July 1944, AWM.

Notes 203 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85

Ibid. Major Shean, diary entry for 5 August 1944, IWM. Major Thompson, diary entry for 2 September 1944, AWM. Lt.-Col. Holmes, ‘Interim Report’, p. 9. Captain Wilkinson, diary entry for 3 September 1944, IWM. Lt.-Col. Galleghan, ‘Interim Report’, p.19. Major Thompson, diary entry for 3 September 1944, AWM. Captain Horner, diary entry for 22 August 1944, IWM. AIF War Diary, AWM54 554/11/39, p.13. Major Thompson, diary entry for 25 July 1944, AWM. AWM, PR86/191, Camp Orders Nos. 191, 194, ‘Discipline’, 8 December 1944. Clink Chronicle, Issue No. 4, 24 September 1944, IWM, Miscellaneous 1856. AIF War Diary, AWM54 554/11/39, p.13. Major Thompson, diary entry for 1 October 1944, AWM. ‘File of Orders’, 2 August 1944, AWM54 554/11/28. Captain Horner, diary entry for 13 October 1944, IWM. Ibid., 14 October 1944. Lt.-Col. Holmes, ‘Interim Report’, AWM, p.10. Camp Notice, 29 November 1944, AWM, PR86/191. Captain Wilkinson, diary entry for 18 October 1944, IWM. Major Gillies, diary entry for 15 November 1944, IWM. Captain Horner, diary entries for November 1944, IWM. Lt. Orr, diary entry for 5 November 1944, AWM. Ibid., 6 November 1944. Lt. Orr, diary entry for 25 July 1944, AWM. Clink Chronicle, issue No. 4, 24 September 1944, IWM, Miscellaneous 1856. Major Shean, diary entry for 2 May 1944, IWM. Lt.-Col. Holmes, ‘Interim Report’, p.10. Major Thompson, diary entry for 16 August 1944, AWM. Ibid., 16 June 1944. Ibid., 17 June 1944. Major Shean, diary entry for 25 October 1944, IWM. Lt.-Col. Holmes, ‘Interim Report’, p.10. Major Shean, diary entry for 30 October 1944, IWM. Major Gillies, diary entry for 19 August 1944, IWM. Camp Order No. 131, ‘Religious Services’, 16 September 1944, AWM, PR86/191. British Red Cross to Mrs Clancy, 5 June 1944, letter in possession of Captain Clancy. Captain Clancy to author March, September 1998. Lt.-Col. Galleghan, ‘Interim Report’, AWM, p. 15. AIF Routine Order No. 170,’Wireless Sets’, 4 July 1943, AWM, PR86/187. Lt. Orr, diary entry for 28 January 1943, AWM. ‘Report on Wireless News Reception’, Changi Camp Singapore, Daily News Bulletin, AWM54 554/11/4 Part 11, p.3. ‘Report on Wireless News Reception’, AWM54 554/11/4 Part 11, p.4. Major Shean, diary entry for 16 May 1945, IWM. Ibid. Major Gillies, diary entry for 18 August 1944, IWM. An anonymous Australian Officer, undated portion of diary, probably post-Japanese surrender, AWM, 3DRL/6355. Camp Order No. 224, ‘Repatriation’, 29 December 1944, AWM, PR86/191. Lt. Orr, diary, AWM. Captain Rogers, diary entry for 28 December 1944, AWM. Captain Horner, diary entry for 26 December 1944, IWM. Major Braganza, diary entry for 25 December 1944, IWM.

204 Notes 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95

96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 105 106 107 108 109 110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121 122 123 124 125 126 127 128 129 130

Major Thompson, diary entry for 1 January 1945, AWM. Captain Horner, diary entry for 1 January 1945, IWM. Major Gillies, diary entry for 16 February 1945, IWM. Camp Order No. 264, ‘Swill’, 18 February 1945, AWM, PR86/191. Major Thompson, diary entry for 3 January 1945, AWM. Major Gillies, diary entry for 1 December 1944, IWM. Ibid., 7 January 1945. Captain Horner, diary entry for 8 March 1945, IWM. Lt.-Col. Holmes, ‘Interim Report’, AWM, p.12. Captain Wilkinson, diary entry for 30 June 1945, IWM. In Wilkinson’s original diary the following lines appear: ‘these fellows are a nuisance and cause a lot of trouble’ and ‘ this man disappearing has held things up again, only temporarily we hope, but it all depends on whether he is caught or not’. In the transcript version they are blacked out, presumably at the request of the author. Major Shean, diary entry for 24 June 1945, IWM. Lt. Orr, diary entry for 11 March 1945, AWM. AIF War Diary, AWM54 554/11/39, p.13. Lt.-Col. Galleghan, ‘Interim Report’, AWM, p. 26. Lt. Orr, diary entry for 25 December 1944, AWM. Ibid., 31 March 1945. Private Sowter, diary entries, IWM. Major Shean, diary entry for 6 April 1945, IWM. Staff Sergeant Burrey, diary entries for 24, 25 March 1945, AWM. AIF Routine Order No. 220, ‘Discipline: Dogs’, 18 November 1943, AWM, PR86/187. Major Thompson, diary entry for 15 January 1945, AWM. Ibid., diary entry for 9 February 1945, AWM. Lt.-Col. Galleghan, ‘Interim Report’, AWM, p.23. Major Thompson, diary entry for 22 February 1945, AWM. Ibid., 20 March 1945. Ibid., 28 February 1945. Ibid., April 1945. Lt.-Col. Galleghan, ‘Interim Report’, AWM, p.24. Ibid., p.25. Captain Wilkinson, diary entry February 1945, IWM. Major Shean, diary entry for 8 July 1945, IWM. Ibid. Lt.-Col. T.H. Newey (writing from H.M.T. Almanzora) to Capt. and Adj. J.H.R. Newey, Central Indian Horse, Central Mediterranean Force, letter dated 20 September 1945, IWM, 85/50/1. ‘Conduct of Lt. Col. T.H. Newey Whilst “Representative Officer”’, 10 September 1945, AWM54 3DRL 2313. For example see, ‘Recognition of Promotions of British O.R.s made whilst POW under Japanese’, PRO WO32/ 11684. Captain Horner diary entry for 11 August 1945, IWM. Ibid. Ibid., 13 August 1945. Ibid., 17 August 1945. Lt. Orr, diary entry for 11 August 1945, AWM. Staff Sergeant Burrey, diary entry for 12 August 1945, AWM. Private Sowter, diary entry for 16 August 1945, IWM. Captain Horner diary entry for 18 August 1945, IWM. Staff Sergeant Burrey, diary entry for 17 August 1945, AWM. Captain Horner, diary entries for 20, 21 August 1945, IWM.

Notes 205 131 132 133 134 135 136 137 138 139 140 141 142

Sergeant Burrey, diary entry for 23 August 1945, AWM. Lt. Orr, diary entry for 18 August 1945, AWM. Captain Rogers, diary entry for 24 August 1945, AWM. Ibid. Captain Horner, diary entry for 3 September 1945, IWM. PR86/191, AWM. Captain Wilkinson, diary entry for 17 August 1945, IWM. Lt.-Col. Holmes, ‘Interim Report’, AWM, p.12. Captain Horner, diary entry for 30 August 1945, IWM. Major Shean, diary entry for 1 September 1945, IWM. PR 86/ 191 AWM. Lt.-Col. Holmes, AWM, 3DRL 2313.

9 Conclusions: bowed but not broken 1 Hank Nelson, ‘“A Bowl of Rice for Seven Camels”: The Dynamics of POW Camps’, Journal of the Australian War Memorial, No. 14 (1989), pp.33–42. 2 Russell Braddon, The Naked Island (London, 1951), p.154. 3 British and Australian POW Camp Changi, March 1942, London, Public Record Office (PRO), WO222/1352. 4 Ibid. 5 James Scott, Domination and the Arts of Resistance (Yale, 1990), p.58. 6 Ibid., p.95. 7 Ikuhiko Hata, ‘Japanese Military and Popular Perceptions of POWs’, in Bob Moore and Kent Fedorowich (eds) Prisoners of War and their Captors in World War II (Oxford, 1996), p.266. 8 J. Davidson Ketchum, Ruhleben: A Prison Camp Society (London, 1965), p.295. 9 Ibid., p.153. 10 Ibid., p.297. 11 Stan Arneil, One Man’s War (Sydney, 1989), p.3. 12 David Malouf, The Great World (London, 1990). 13 Ibid., p.111. 14 The Australian Newspaper’s ‘Review of Books’, June 1997.

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Manuscripts Canberra, Australian War Memorial (AWM) AWM52 (AIF war diaries, 1939–45). AWM54 (Written records, 1939–45). Changi: POWs (Private Records series).

London, Imperial War Museum (IWM) Singapore/Malaya: POWs (Private diaries/ journals).

London, Public Record Office (Kew) Cabinet Papers CAB121 Colonial Office (CO) CO980 Prime Ministers Papers (PREM) PREM3 War Office (WO) WO32 WO81 WO82 WO172 WO208 WO222 WO224

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208 Bibliography Crisp, Dorothy, Why We Lost Singapore (London, 1944). Cull, Brian with Christopher Shore and Yashuho Izawa, A Bloody Shambles (London, 1992). Danchev, Alex and Dan Todman (eds) War Diaries 1939–45, Field Marshal Lord Alanbrooke (London, 2001). Darian-Smith, Kate and Paula Hamilton, Memory and History in Twentieth Century Australia (Oxford, 1994). Davidson Ketchum, J., Ruhleben: A Prison Camp Society (London, 1965). Daws, Gavan, Prisoners of the Japanese (New York, 1994). Day, David, The Great Betrayal: Britain, Australia and the Onset of the Pacific War (London, 1988). —— Reluctant Nation: Australia and the Allied Defeat of Japan, 1942–45 (London, 1992). Dean-Potter, John, A Soldier Must Hang (London, 1963). De Grey, Slim, Changi: The Funny Side (Runaway Bay, Queensland, 1991). Dew, Gwen, Prisoner of the Japs (New York, 1943). Dixon, Norman, On the Psychology of Military Incompetence (London, 1976). Donahue, Flight-Lieutenant Arthur Gerald, Last Flight From Singapore (London, 1944). Dower, John W., War Without Mercy: Race and Power in the Pacific War (New York, 1986). —— Japan in War and Peace (London, 1995). Dunlop, E.E., The War Diaries of Weary Dunlop (London, 1990). Edwards, Jack, Banzai You Bastards (London, 1990). Elichi, Kuroda, Proceedings of an Australian Military Court: War Crime Trial of Elichi Kuroda (Silverdale, NSW, 1994). Elphick, Peter, Singapore: The Pregnable Fortress (London, 1995). English, Jeffrey, One For Every Sleeper (London, 1989). Falk, Stanley L., Seventy Days to Singapore (London, 1975). —— The March of Death (London, 1962). Farwell, Byron, The Gurkhas (London, 1984). Frisch, Colin, Heroes Denied: The Malyan Harrier Conspiracy (Wheelers Hill, Vic., 1990). Fussell, Paul, Wartime (New York, 1989). Gerster, Robin, Big Noting: The Heroic Theme in Australian War Writing (Carlton, Vic., 1987). Gilchrist, Sir Andrew, Malaya 1941, The Fall of a Fighting Empire (London, 1982). Glover, Edwin Maurice, In Seventy Days (London, 1946). Goodman, Grant K. (ed.) Japanese Cultural Policies in South East Asia During World War Two (London, 1991). Gordon, Ernest, Through the Valley of the Kwai (London, 1962). —— Miracle on the River Kwai (London, 1963). Gordon, Harry, Die Like the Carp! (Stanmore, Aus., 1978). Grenfell, Russell, Main Fleet to Singapore (London, 1951). Grey, Jeffrey, A Military History of Australia (Melbourne, 1990). Griffin, Murray, Changi (Sydney, 1992). Hall, Timothy, The Fall of Singapore, 1942 (Sydney, 1983). Hammond, Robert, A Fearful Freedom (London, 1984). —— Flame of Freedom (London, 1988). Hardie, Robert, The Burma–Siam Railway (Sydney, 1983).

Bibliography 209 Harrison, Kenneth, The Brave Japanese (London, 1967). Hayter, John, Priest in Prison: Four Years of Life in Japanese Occupied Singapore (Worthing, 1989). Henling-Wade, Tom, Prisoner of the Japanese: From Changi to Tokyo (Kenthurst, Aus. 1994). Heussler, Robert, British Rule in Malaya: The Malayan Civil Service and its Predecessors, 1867–1942 (West Port, Conn., 1981). —— British Malaya: A Bibliography (London, 1981). Holmes, Richard and Anthony Kemp, The Bitter End – The Fall of Singapore, 1941–1942 (London, 1982). Hough, Richard, The Fleet that had to Die (London, 1951). —— The Hunting of Force Z (London, 1963). Huie, Shirely Fenton, The Forgotten Ones: Dutch PoWs Under Nippon (North Ryde, NSW, 1992). Huxtable, Charles, From the Somme to Singapore: A Medical Officer in Two World Wars (London, 1987). Iannareli, Anthony N., The Eighty Thieves: American POWs in WWII Japan (San Diego, 1991). Ienaga, Saburo, The Pacific War: 1931–1945 (Tokyo, 1968, english language edn, Toronto, 1978). Iriye, Akira, Power and Culture: The Japanese–American War (London, 1981). —— The Origins of the Second World War in the Pacific (London, 1987). Kennedy, John, The Business of War (London, 1957). Kennedy, Joseph, British Civilians and the Japanese War in Malaya & Singapore, 1941–45 (London, 1987). Kent, Jim, Changi Terror (Melbourne, 1966). Kerr, Bartlett E., Surrender & Survival: The Experience of American POWs in the Pacific, 1941–45 (New York, 1985). Kershaw, G.F., Tracks of Death – The Burma–Siam Railway (Lewes, 1992). Kindersly, Philip, For You the War is Over (Tunbridge Wells, 1983). Kinvig, Clifford, Death Railway (London, 1973). —— Scapegoat: General Percival of Singapore (London, 1996). La Porte, Robert S., Building the Death Railway: the Ordeal of American POWs in Burma, 1942–45 (Wilmington, Del., 1993). Landrum, Lana R., The Role of Dissociation in Late Life Adjustment of WWII POWs (London, 1991). Lane, John, Summer Will Come Again: Story of Australian POWs Fight for Survival in Japan (Freemantle, 1987). Lawford, J.P., Solah Punjab: A History of the 16th Punjab Regiment (Aldershot, 1968). Leasor, James, Singapore: The Battle that Changed the World (London, 1968). Lee, Cecil, Sunset of the Raj – The Fall of Singapore (Felixstowe, 1994). Lewis, T.P.M., Changi, The Lost Years: A Malayan Diary, 1941–45 (London, 1984). Liddell Hart, Basil Henry History of the Second World War (London, 1970). Lindsay, Oliver, At the Going Down of the Sun: Hong Kong and South-East Asia, 1941–1945 (London, 1981). Lodge, A.B., The Fall of General Gordon Bennet (Sydney, 1986). Lomax, Eric, The Railway Man (London, 1995) Lumiere, Cornel, Kura! (Brisbane, Aus., 1966). Malouf, David, The Great World (London, 1990).

210 Bibliography Mant, Gilbert, The Singapore Surrender: Grim Glory & You’ll Be Sorry (Kuala Lumpur, 1992). Martin, Adrian R., Brothers from Bataan: POWs 1941–1945 (Manhattan, Kansas, 1992). Mason, W.W., Official History of New Zealand in the Second World War, 1939–45 (London, 1954). McCleland, James, Book No. 77: Names and Particulars of Australians Killed in WWII (Silverdale, NSW, 1990). McCormack, Gavan and Hank Nelson, The Burma – Thailand Railway (St. Leonards, Aus., 1993). McGarry, Colonel Ron, 2/26 Infantry Battalion: The Battalion Story (Jindalee, Queensland, n.d.). McGregor, John, Blood on the Rising Sun (no place or date of publication). Moffitt, Athol, Project Kingfisher (Sydney, 1989). Moore, Bob and Kent Fedorowich (eds), Prisoners of War and their Captors in World War II (Oxford, 1996). Moore, Michael, Battalion at War – Singapore 1942 (Norwich, 1988). Morrison, Ian, Malayan Postcript (London, 1942). Nelson, David, The Story of Changi (West Perth, 1973). Nelson, Hank, P.O.W. Prisoners of War: Australians Under Nippon (Sydney, 1985). Ooka, Shohei, Taken Captive: A Japanese PoW’s Story (New York, 1996). Owen, Frank, The Fall of Singapore (London, 1960). Parkin, Ray, Out of the Smoke (London, 1960). —— The Sword and the Blossom (London, 1968). —— Into the Smother (London, 1963). Pavillard, Stanley S., Bamboo Doctor (London, 1960). Peacock, Basil, Prisoner on the Kwai (London, 1966). Percival, A.E., The War in Malaya (London, 1949). Playfair, Giles, Singapore Goes off the Air (London, 1944). Pounder, Thomas, Death Camps on the River Kwai (St Ives, 1977). Power, F.W.G., Kurrah! An Australian POW in Changi, Thailand and Japan, 1942–1945 (Melbourne, 1991). Probert, H.A., Sqd. Ldr., History of Changi (Singapore, 1965). Rawlings, Leo, ‘And the Dawn Came Up Like Thunder’ (London, 1972). Rose, Angus, Who Dies Fighting (London, 1944). Rose, Jane, The Myth of the Digger: Australian Soldiers in Two World Wars (Sydney, 1985). Rivett, Rohan, Behind Bamboo (Ringwood, Vic., Australia, 1946). Russell, Lord Liverpool, The Scourge of The Swastika (London, 1954). —— The Knights of Bushido (London, 1958). Russell-Roberts, Denis, Spotlight on Singapore (Douglas, 1965). Ryan, Laurence, POWs Fraternal: Diaries of S/Sgt. Raymond Ryan, Poems of Pvt. Laurence Ryan (Perth, 1990). Scott, James, Domination and the Arts of Resistance (Yale, 1990). Simons, Jesse Elizabeth, In Japanese Hands: Australian Nurses as POWs (Melbourne, [1954], 1984). Simpson, Ivan, Singapore: Too Little, Too Late (London, 1970). Smith, Lieutenant-Colonel Neil C., Tid Apa: The History of the 4th Anti-Tank Regiment (Gardenvale, Victoria, 1992). Smyth, Sir John, V.C., Percival and the Tragedy of Singapore (London, 1971).

Bibliography 211 Spencer-Chapman, F., The Jungle is Neutral (London, 1949). Sprod, George, Bamboo Round My Shoulder: Changi the Lighter Side (Kenthurst, Aus., 1981). Strabolgi, Lord, Singapore and After: A Study of the Pacific Campaign (London, 1942). Summons, Walter Irvine, Twice Their Prisoner (Melbourne, 1946). Swinson, Arthur, Defeat in Malaya (London, 1970). Tan Liana, The Japanese Occupation: Singapore, 1942–45 (Singapore, 1985). Taylor, William, With the Cambridgeshires at Singapore (March, 1971). Titherington, Arthur, A British PoW’s Account of 1,300 Days in a Japanese Slave Labour Camp (London, 1993). Tsuji, Colonel Masanobu, Singapore: The Japanese Version, translated by Margaret E. Clarke (London, 1960). Van Der Post, Laurens, The Seed and the Sower (London, 1963) —— Night of the New Moon (London, 1970). Wall, Don, Singapore and Beyond: History of 2/18 (East Hills, NSW, 1985). Walsh, Verdun, Cry Crucify (Ryde, 1991). Waterford, Van, Prisoners of the Japanese in World War Two: A Statistical History and Personnel Narratives of POWs (Jefferson, 1994). Whitecross, R.H., Slaves of the Son of Heaven (London, 1951). Whitelocke, Cliff and George O’Brien, Gunners in the Jungle: A Story of the 2/15 Field Regiment (Eastwood, NSW, 1983). Wigmore, Lionel, Australia in the War of 1939–45: Vol. IV, The Japanese Thrust (Canberra, 1957). Wilson, Duncan, Survival Was For Me (London, 1991). Wilson, Keith, You’ll Never Get Off the Island: Changi, Singapore, February 1942–August 1945 (Sydney, 1989). Woodburn Kirby, Major General S., The History of the Second World War: The War Against Japan, Vol. I, The Loss of Singapore, (London, 1957). —— Singapore: The Chain of Disaster (London, 1971). Wyett, John, Staff Wallah at the Fall of Singapore (St. Leonards, NSW, 1996).

Articles Altman, Denis, ‘The Myth of Mateship’, Meanjin Quarterly, 46, June 1987, pp.163–72. Beaumont, Joan, ‘Rank, Privilege and Prisoners of War’, War and Society, Vol. 1, No. 1, May 1983. Best, Geoffrey, ‘The Geneva Conventions: Past, Present and Future’, Royal United Services Institute for Defence Studies Journal, June 1974, pp.22–7. Bowker, B., ‘The Consequences of Captivity’, Science News, No. 119, 21 March 1981, pp.188–9. Butler, S., ‘A Half Century of Denial’ (Japanese Unit 731s medical experiments on captured Allied POWs), US News and World Report, Vol. 119, 31 July 1995, pp.56–7. Callahan, Raymond, ‘The Illusion of Security: Singapore 1919–1942’, Journal of Contemporary History, 9, April 1974, 69–92. Carr-Gregg, Charlotte, ‘Japanese Officers in Australian and New Zealand: The Role of Japanese Officers in the Featherstone and Cowra Incidents’, Political Science, No. 29, July 1977, pp.29–38. Cator, G.E., ‘Course of the Japanese Invasion of Malaya’, Crown Colonist, February 1942, pp.69–70.

212 Bibliography Cobcroft, Mervyn D., ‘Murray Griffin and his Changi Clinical Paintings’, Medical Journal of Australia, Vol. 156, No. 3, 3 February 1992. —— ‘Merry Christmas, Major Clarke: Changi Christmas 50 Years Ago’, Medical Journal of Australia, Vol. 160, No. 2, 17 January 1994. Davis, G.H., ‘Prisoners of War in Twentieth-Century War Economies’, Journal of Contemporary History, Vol. 12, October 1977, pp.623–34. Day, David, ‘ANZACs on the Run: The View from Whitehall, 1941–42’, Journal of Imperial and Commonwealth Studies, May 1986, pp187–202. Fields-Meyer, T., ‘Forgotten Infamy’ (Japanese apology for atrocities against Australian Soldiers), People Weekly, Vol. 44, 21 August, 1995, pp.84–7. Fletcher-Cooke, Sir John, ‘The Emperor’s Guest’, New Humanist, 88, January 1973, pp.358–60. Gilmore, A.B., ‘We Have Been Reborn: Japanese POWs and the Allied Propaganda War in the Southwest Pacific’, Pacific History Reveiw, Vol. 64, May 1995, pp.195–215. Heehs, P., ‘India’s Divided Loyalties?’ (Alliance of the Indian National Army with the Japanese During World War Two), History Today, Vol. 45, July 1995, pp.16–23. Inglis, K.S., ‘The ANZAC Tradition’, Meanjin Quarterly, Vol. 24, No. 1, 1965, pp.24–44. Krammer, A., ‘Japanese POWs in America’, Pacific History Review, Vol. 52, February 1983, pp.67–91. McIntyre, W.D., ‘The Strategic Significance of Singapore 1919–1942: The Naval Base and the Commonwealth’, Journal of Southeast Asian History, 10, March 1969, pp.69–94. Mackenzie, S.P., ‘The Treatment of POWs in World War Two’, Journal of Modern History, Vol. 66, September 1994, pp.487–520. Marcello, R.E., ‘Lone Star POWs: Texas National Guardsmen and the Building of the Burma–Thailand Railway, 1942–1944’, Southwest History Quarterly, 95, January 1992, pp.292–321. Nelson, Hank, ‘“A Bowl of Rice for Seven Camels”: The Dynamics of Prisoner-of-War Camps’, Journal of the Australian War Memorial, No. 14, April 1989, pp.33–42. Nelson, Hank, ‘Travelling in Memories’, Journal of the Australian War Memorial, No. 3, October 1983, pp.3–26. Pearn, John H., ‘Murray Griffin and his Changi Clinical Paintings’, Medical Journal of Australia, Vol. 155, 2 December 1991, pp.775–6. ‘P.T.B.’, ‘The Fall of Malaya’, Political Quarterly, Vol. XIII, No. 1, June 1942, pp.130–43. Roland, L.G., ‘Stripping Away the Veneer: PoW Survival in the Far East as an Index of Cultural Atavism’, Journal of Military History, 53, January 1994, pp.79–94. Roskill, S.W., ‘Marder, Churchill and the Admiralty 1939–42’, Journal of the Royal United Service Institute for Defence Studies, 117, December 1972, pp.49–53.

Unpublished dissertations Staunton, Sophie, ‘Discipline and Demand: AIF Chain of Command and Resource Management in Changi, 1942–45’, Unpublished MA thesis, Australian National University, 1994.

Index

aerodrome construction 119, 122, 130 Alexandra Hospital 25 Alexander, A.H.B. 30 Allwood, P. 127 Ainger,Lt.-Col. D.S. 67 air raid precautions 147 air raids over Singapore 148 Anglo-Japanese Treaty 1905 13 anonymous Australian officer 27, 95–7, 124, 151 Argyle and Sutherland Highlanders 68 Arimura, Gen. 95, 131 Arneil, Stan 173 Ashmore, Lt.-Col. S.H. 38, Australian Imperial Force (AIF) 14, 16, 18, 22, 27–30, 31, 39, 44, 46, 53, 56, 57, 58, 60, 61, 62, 67, 68, 69, 72, 73, 75, 77, 79, 83, 88, 89, 91, 93, 94, 96, 105, 110–13, 115–16, 125, 126, 144, 146, 151, 159 The Australian 175 badges of rank 55, 59 Bailles, Lt. 22, 37, 38, 42, 50, 54, 62, 63, 69, 71, 72, 74, 77, 78, 82, 104, 106 Bataan ‘death march’ 2 Battle of Britain 177 Baume, Lt. C. 40, 55, 59 Beaumont, Prof. Joan 10 Beckwith-Smith, Maj.-Gen. M.B. 21, 22, 45 beriberi 65 Blackburn, Brigadier Arthur (AIF) 91 Blackburn, Kevin 8 black market 60, 115 Braddon, Russell 42, 54, 169 Braganza, Major 153 Breavington, Cpl. 68, 70 The Bridge on the River Kwai 2, 33, 174

Broad, Edmond 63, 66 Brooke, General Sir Alan 15 Bureau of Record and Inquiry 10 Burma–Thailand Railway 2, 7, 36, 51 Burrey, E.W. 16, 54, 102, 103, 112, 124, 138, 139, 157, 162 Cadbury-Jones, Basil 69 Callaghan, Maj.-Gen. C.A. 61 Cambridgeshire Regiment 17, 50 Cameron Highlands 82 canteen 48 Carpenter, C. 16 Chambers, Rev. 20, 41 Changi camp 10 Changi chapel 6 ‘Changi chariots’ 75 Changi gaol 11, 69, 112, 135, 137, 141 cholera, outbreak amongst civilian population 47 Christmas 1942 100; Christmas 1944 152 Churchill, Winston 1, 20 Clancy, Lt. 150, 151 Clavell, James 42 Clink Chronicle 146 Colditz 172 Committee for Imperial Defence (CID) communication with home 49; postcards home 54; regulations for postcard messages 52, 53 Coombs, Cyril 24, 46, 56, 63, 72, 79, 82, 104 Craven, Col. J.W. 76 Curran camp 69 Curzon, Lord 13 Dalgleish, Lt.-Col. L.R. 24 D’Arbus, Lt.-Col. 120 Davies, Major P. 39

214 Index Dawson, S. 31 Dean, Private A.C. 50 departure of senior allied officers from Changi 61 Dickson, Capt. 19, 56, 101 diet 42 Dillon, Lt.-Col. 160 diptheria 65 Dodds, Flying Officer 80 Dunlop, Lt.-Col. E.E. ‘Weary’ 4, 91 Duntroon Military Academy, Canberra 6 Dutch East Indies 11 dysentery 46, 47, 65, 84 education classes 28, 60 Emperor’s birthday 46 engineering studentship 125 execution of Chinese civilians 29 Federated Malay States Volunteer Force (FMSVF) 41, 81 FEPOW (Far Eastern Prisoners of War) associations 174 ‘ferry system’ 58 Fletcher, Pvt. 69 Forces: A Force 46, 63; B Force 46; F Force 82, 85–7 121–3, 124, 125; H Force 86, 121, 125, 135 Foreign Office 49 Franks, J.W. 71 Fraser, General Sir Theodore 13 Fukuye, Maj.-Gen. Shimpei 62, 69, 90, 95, 114 Gale, Pvt. 69, 70 Galleghan, Lt.-Col. F.G. 40, 60, 61, 62, 67, 68, 76, 77, 79, 80, 86, 88, 91, 96, 109, 114, 117, 128, 135, 142, 143, 144, 145, 146, 156, 160 Garden, Lt. R. 78 garden scheme 44 ‘Garden and Woods area’ 94, 121, 122, 126, 127 Gemas 14 Gibson, Captain 30 Gillies, Major D.W. 20, 21, 36, 37, 45, 46, 76, 77, 82, 90, 101, 107, 108, 109, 136, 141, 144, 148, 154, 155 Gloria D’Earie (Bombardier Arthur Butler) 61 Goodman, Brigadier E.W. 17 The Great Escape 168, 172 Great World amusement park 63 The Great World (David Malouf) 174

ground levelling party 119, 120, 128 Hall, Timothy 39 Harrison Kenneth 4 Harris, Stanley Wakefield 70 Hannam, Capt. S. 27 Heath, Lt.-Gen. Lewis 37, 55 Hague Convention 66 Henling-Wade, Tom 32 Heyes, Lance-Corporal Kenneth 90 Hodgson, Alec 17, 23, 26, 27, 49, 59, 63 Holden, E. 79 Holmes, Lt.-Col. (The Manchester Regiment) 9, 42, 48, 59, 61, 66, 67, 68, 69, 77, 80, 95, 106, 112, 113, 114, 120, 121, 127, 128, 130, 132, 133, 135, 137, 142, 144, 145, 155, 160, 164, 165, 169, 170 Horner, Capt. R.M. 21, 42, 44, 45, 54, 63, 82, 105, 106, 110, 138, 142, 146, 147, 148, 153, 154, 161, 162, 164 Houghton, Lt.-Col. D.A.S. (Royal Artillery) 16 Houghton, Private J.R. 56, 82, 104 Ikuhiko Hata 170 Imperial Japanese Army (IJA) 7; initial impressions of 25; payment of POWs 46 Indian National Army 58, 70, 71, 114 Infantry Record Office 50 Inglefield, Gilbert 68, 75, 76 Japan (Anglo-Japanese Treaty, 1905) 13, 62; surrender 161–2 Kappe, Lt.-Col. 122 Keating, Paul 6 Ketchum, J. Davidson 172 Kerr, Warrant Officer Jack 112 I Killed the Count 1 King Rat 42, 175 Korsch, John 24 Kranji, Singapore island 4, 135, 149 Kranji Hospital 162 Ledingham, Captain J.R. 50, 79, 102, 104, 107, 109 Liberation of Changi 164, Lourenco Marques 49, 54, 82 Lucas, Brigadier H.F. 55 Mackenzie, Lt. Alastair 22 Magee, Maj. Francis 68

Index 215 mail 49, 108, 111, 112, 149 ‘main fleet to Singapore’ 13 malaria, and anti-malarial precautions 47, 123 Malay Regiment 32 Malaya 13 Malaya Command 28, 31, 35, 74, 114, 167 Malet, Captain H.F.G. 25, 48, 49, 56, 60, 75, 82, 84, 86 Malouf, David 174 Marsh, Lt. W.W. 41, 42 medical classifications 83 Miggins, W.H. 29 Montfort, Alf 16, 26, 28, 29 monthly reports 170 Moore, James (AIF) 16 Morris, A.A. 16, 25, 26 Morris, J.G. ‘Tom’ 39, 41 Muira, Lt. 160–1 The Naked Island (Russell Braddon) 42 Nelson, Capt. David 10, 23, 130 Nelson, Prof. Hank 6, 167, 176 Newey, Lt.-Col. 137, 142, 143, 144, 145, 146, 156, 159, 160 ‘no-escape’ pledges/ parole forms 19, 64, 65, 71, 156 ‘No. 1 Camp’/ ‘No. 2 Camp’ 146 officers’ clothing scale 140 Okasaki, Lt. 51, 52, 66 Okayame, Lt.-Col. 71 Operation Matador 14 Orr, Lt. Lindsay 68, 75, 90, 103, 106, 107, 139, 148, 151, 153, 156, 163 Outram Road 95, 130 Overaker, General 61 parades 170 Parit Sulong 25 Parry, Bombadier 17, 19, 25, 26, 31 pay 48 Percival, Lt.-Gen. A.E. 5, 38, 42, 55, 61, 63, 75, 143, 169 ‘petitioning’ 169 piggery 48, 133 Pond, Lt.-Col. 142 Popham, Signaller L. (Royal Corps of Signals) 15, 16, 25 postcards 54, 110; regulations for the writing of 52 Power, F.W.G. 68 Prisoners of War (POWs) (Allied), death

rates of 3, 6; numbers at Changi 11, 81 Pudu Gaol 4, 54, 78 Raffles, Sir Stamford 13 RAPWI (Repatriation of Allied Prisoners of War and Internees) 165 ration scale 42, 45, 58 Red Cross supplies 46, 48, 50, 60, 88, 100, 104, 106, 113, 157, 162; American Red Cross supplies 131, 132; IRC visits to Japanese-run POW camps 51; IRC representative 130 repatriation 104–5, 152 Richardson, Lt. J.A. 17, 19, 22, 32, 67, 78 ‘rice polishings’ 107 River Valley 92 Rivett, Rohan 3 Roberts Barracks 31, 47, 56, 94, 96 Roberts Hospital 73, 76, 94, 135 Rogers, Captain Alan (AAMC) 1, 4, 67, 77, 87, 89, 93, 96, 97, 98, 101, 102, 110, 111, 112, 120, 121, 122, 134, 163 ‘roll calls’ 116–17 Romney, Sergeant-Major P. 26, 31, 41, 60, 82, 106, 132 romusha 2 Roxburgh, James 16, 30, 44, 46, 56 Royal Northumberland Fusiliers 77 Ruhleben: A Prison Camp Society (J. Davidson Ketchum) 172, 174 Saito, Maj.-Gen. 132, 133, 136, 155 salt water parties 114 Scott, James 77, 170 Searle, Ronald 5 Selarang Barracks 28, 56 Selarang ‘incident’ 143, 171, 174 Selarang ‘special order’ 78 Shean, Maj. Desmond Mayler 24, 37, 42, 47, 55, 58, 62, 85, 90, 94,95, 101, 104, 110, 112, 113, 115, 122, 130, 131, 133, 140, 142, 144, 144, 149, 151, 156, 157, 160 Shorland, Col. G.H. 21, 32, 83, 84, 86, 93, 101, 112, 130, 138, 143 Sime Road 135, 142, 143, 144 Skewes, Glenleigh 123, 127 Slim River 14 ‘Smokey Joes’ 98, 168 Sowter, William 32, 100, 105, 107, 138, 157, 162 Story of Changi (Captain David Nelson) 10, 23

216 Index Straits Settlement Volunteer Force (SSVF) 142 Straits Times/ Syonan Times 54, 106 Tagumi, Lt. 122, 130 Thailand 14 Takahashi, Lt. 131, 132, 142, 143, 144, 147, 160 Taiwan 11 Tanaka, Lt. 121 Taylor, Brigadier H.B. 37, 60 Thompson, Corporal A. 90, 91 Thompson, Major A. 30, 33, 59, 68, 110, 135 Thornton, Lt. C. 75, 76 The Times 51, 54 trading 115 Tokyo time 29, 54 Tokugwa 170 Toze, Pvt. A.V. 46 Tsuji, Masanobu 13

vitamin extract 107 Warren, Bdr. S. 73 Waters, Pvt. 69 Wavell, General Sir Archibald 18, 19, 20, 39 weight loss of POWs (Table 1) 158 Whincup, E.W. 77 White, Lt.-Col. Glyn 73 Wigmore, Lionel 18 Wilkins, A. 24 Wilkinson, Captain C. 26, 67, 72, 77, 78, 93, 100, 103, 108, 117, 123, 124, 138, 140, 141, 144, 147, 159, 164, 165 Wilson, Keith 18 ‘wiring-in’ 54, 56; and repairs to the wire 117 wireless messages 111, 149, 150; wireless broadcasts 112 wireless sets at Changi 109, 151–2, 164 Withers-Payne, Major 66 ‘working parties’ 82

‘University of Changi’ 60 Varley, Brigadier Al 24 vitamin deficiency 105, 106

Yates, Capt. H.A.D. 89, 91 Yamashita, Lt.-Gen.T. 51 Young, Lt. W.R. 20, 45, 49, 58