Enemy Camp

by Hill, David

  There were a dozen of them in their blue uniforms, swaying in the back of the lorry as it bounced past, moving towards where the men were working. A couple of armed guards sat among them.

  We waved, and called out ‘G’day!’ to the guards, who waved back. The Japs gazed at us, where we stood with bare feet and wet hair. Some of them smiled, or did a little bob with their head, like the beginning of a bow. It was just like meeting a bunch of ordinary blokes. We talked about it on the way home.

  Dad got back from camp just before tea. ‘Got a message for you, Ewen.’ For some reason, I thought of Susan Proctor.

  It wasn’t her — of course. It was much more interesting. ‘Lieutenant Ito says he didn’t mean to seem bad-mannered when he stopped talking to you on Sunday. “Officer of Japanese Imperial Army must always respond to other officer of Japanese Imperial Army.” That’s what he told me. Funny bloke.’

  We were in the garden. Dad rolled a cigarette, and went on: ‘Glad you had the chance to talk to him. Good for both sides. I liked the way young Clarry asked him about learning Japanese.’

  He lit his cigarette, flicked the match so that it somersaulted away. Wish I could do that. ‘We could be getting more guards soon. There’s talk of winding the Home Guard down, now it seems there won’t be any invasion. Like I say, the Japs are on the run.’

  He paused. ‘And also like I say, we won’t go counting our chickens too early.’

  TUESDAY, 29 DECEMBER We kids have got a job!

  Tak Yee, who owns the fruit and vegetable shop, wants his sheds tidied up. Dad heard about it, and we’re getting paid! We’ll start in the New Year.

  We biked down to see. The sheds are full of old boxes, bottles, stacks of newspapers that Tak Yee uses for wrapping veges. ‘You can work, too?’ he asked Clarry. Clarry glared.

  We went to the Morrises’, since Mum was there. ‘Your mother and I have been listening to the wireless,’ Mrs Morris told us straightaway. Her face was pink and her eyes shone. ‘There’s a nurse in Australia called Sister Kenny, with all these new ideas on treating polio patients. Lots of exercises without braces, and hot wet-packs on the affected parts. Clarry, darling, we’ll see if you can manage a few steps without your braces every day!’

  Clarry looked embarrassed. Embarrassed because his mother was calling him ‘darling’, and because if she knew how much he’d already been walking without his braces …

  I read some of Five on a Treasure Island after lunch. One of the girls is called George. How weird.

  Dad got home late afternoon, and I could tell something was wrong.

  He went, ‘I just want a word with your mum, son.’ I hung around in the hall and listened while he and my mother talked in the kitchen.

  ‘Colonel Wallace told the Japs this morning that they are no longer fighting men, and they’d better learn to make the best of being prisoners.’

  ‘What did the Japs do?’ Mum asked.

  ‘Nothing. They all stared straight ahead, as if we weren’t even there. Then … well, about an hour later, just as they were trying to get the work parties sorted out, all this commotion starts. Guards yelling, the medical NCOs tearing about. One of the Nips—’ He stopped. I kept still.

  Dad started again. ‘One of their navy lot had hammered a nail right through his arm. Just below the elbow. He came walking out of the hut, cool as a cucumber, blood pouring out of him.’

  ‘Oh, Jack!’ Mum sounded sick, and I felt pretty queasy myself.

  ‘So the CO sent for their officers and wanted to know what was going on. And Ito told him: “You talk like we have no courage. This man shows you we have much courage.”’

  Silence. I let out my breath as quietly as I could.

  ‘That’s not the only thing.’ Dad’s voice stayed low. ‘Some of the pots and dixies the Nips use for cooking — their lids have gone missing.’

  I heard Mum make a puzzled noise. ‘They’re metal,’ Dad explained. ‘Could be made into something sharp. OK, they might be genuinely missing, but everything is checked so carefully. And the place feels different, Molly.’ A match scraped. ‘At least they’ve got New Year coming up. They want to celebrate that. With any luck, the CO will cut them a bit of slack, and both sides can relax.’

  I started moving noisily towards the kitchen. Dad grinned as I appeared.

  ‘Hello, Ewen. Just telling your Mum how things are busy at the camp just now.’ He half-caught my mother’s eye. ‘Nothing to worry about.’

  WEDNESDAY, 30 DECEMBER Nothing.

  THURSDAY, 31 DECEMBER It’s never really nothing. Something happens every day; that’s one thing my journal has made me realise. I walked down town with Mum and saw a couple of kids from school. I’ve made up my mind about Susan Proctor. Barry and Margaret are wrong; she’s just being … well, friendly and polite, I suppose. I guess she’s not so snobby, after all.

  Finished Five on a Treasure Island. Borrowed another of Barry’s Christmas books, The Lost World, by the man who wrote the Sherlock Holmes stories. (Mr White read us some in class this year.) It’s really good. A professor discovers a secret plateau in South America, with dinosaurs and ape-men.

  Dad is at the camp. I hope things are better there. When he gets home, we’re going to the Morrises’ for dinner, and we’re staying up until midnight to see 1943 in. I’ve never done that.

  Clarry is walking up and down their hall each day without his braces. His mum said he could try it on the front path, if Barry held his hand, but my best friend said, ‘I’m n-not holding his hand!’

  They came over this morning, and we talked about our New Year resolutions. Clarry wants to come back to school (idiot!) and to walk properly. No surprises there. Barry was a surprise, though. ‘I’m g-going to t-try not to st-st-stammer.’

  Dad says Colonel Wallace has given permission for the Japs to beat gongs (‘pots and pans from the kitchen’) at midnight, like they do at home.

  We walked along to the Morrises’ at about five o’clock. Some of the neighbours were in their gardens — even front lawns and flower beds have been dug up to grow vegetables — and they all wished us a Happy New Year.

  We had a bonzer tea, with chops and lots of roast vegetables, and sago pudding. Then we played cards. First we had Snap. When two Queens came up, Clarry grabbed them so fast that his mother went ‘Clarence Morris! You’ll give me a heart attack!’

  ‘Yeah, be careful … Clarence,’ I said, and got an evil look.

  After the cards, we pushed the table and chairs back against the wall. Mrs Morris wound up the gramophone and the four grown-ups danced — waltzes and things — while they played old soppy records, ‘Over the Rainbow’, ‘The Way You Look Tonight’ and stuff like that. Mum and Mrs Morris started saying they wanted handsome young men to dance with, and made us join in. So there was Clarry, clumping round the room with his mum and grinning his head off, just like at the town hall.

  Time went really fast, and I didn’t even feel tired. At eleven o’clock we had supper. ‘I know you boys won’t have any room left after dinner.’ Mum laughed. We had room, alright!

  Eleven-thirty … Eleven-forty-five …

  ‘Oh, I nearly forgot!’ Mrs Morris exclaimed. She rushed out of the room and came back with a cardboard box. ‘Last year’s streamers! I folded them all up again.’

  ‘Streamers!’ went Mum. ‘Remember the first troop-ships leaving for overseas? The soldiers on board holding one end of a streamer, and people on the wharf holding the other end? The streamer stretching tight as the ship moved away, and breaking? That was so sad.’

  ‘Come on, Molly.’ Dad put his good arm around her. ‘No handkerchiefs tonight. It’s going to be a great year.’

  Mr Morris held his engine-driver’s big pocket-watch in one hand. ‘Ready, everyone? Thirty seconds to go … twenty … ten …’ We all joined in. ‘Five … four … three … two … one. Happy New Year!’

  Streamers looped across the room. The grown-ups hugged (Mum and Mrs Morris) or shook hands (Dad and Mr Mor
ris). ‘“Auld Lang Syne”!’ called Mrs Morris, and dragged us all into a circle, holding hands. ‘Ready everyone? “Should old acquaintance be forgot …”’

  I sing like a duck. Barry sings like a chook. Clarry sings quite well; it’s not fair. When we finished, Mr Morris said, ‘Listen!’ We went silent, and from all around we heard distant singing and cheering. I had seen in the New Year.

  Mum and Dad and I walked home through the warm night. The blackout curtains were drawn, there were no streetlights. Above us, the sky looked like someone had chucked jewels all across it.

  We were nearly at our gate when Dad paused. ‘Can you hear that?’

  Faintly, from far away, came a sound like bells or gongs being rung. Some of them high and fast, some of them deeper and slow. The Japs at camp were seeing in the same New Year as us. I wonder if it’s happening in Japan, too? I wonder if Ito’s son — Haru — is awake and thinking about his father?

  January 1943

  FRIDAY, 1 JANUARY I’m too tired to write.

  SATURDAY, 2 JANUARY I didn’t get up until nine o’clock yesterday. Dad had already left for camp. I felt tired all day. Barry and Clarry and I sat around on their back steps, yawning at one another. Clarry’s mother called him to come and lie down while she put some wet cloths on his legs like that Australian nurse was talking about. Twenty minutes later, she came out to where Barry and I were. ‘He’s asleep.’

  Today Clarry said, ‘Let’s go out to the cemetery, eh?’ So we headed off, along Western Lake Road.

  Grandma and Grandad MacKenzie are buried there. They both died when I was little; I can just remember them. Dad reckons they were worn out by the Depression years in the 1930s, when there was hardly any work, and people were really poor. Mum’s parents are buried in Palmerston North.

  There were quite a few people at the cemetery, tidying graves and putting fresh flowers on them. Over by the soldiers’ graves from the Great War and this war, an old bloke with grey hair had his arm around a lady, and I think she was crying. We kept out of their way.

  We looked at my grandparents’ grave, and the one with Chinese writing where Tak Yee’s wife is buried. When the Japs declared war, someone knocked that gravestone over, and painted swear words on it. Clarry limped around with us. He had left his leg braces in the trolley. He held onto gravestones as he moved.

  ‘I never thought I would die,’ he said, as we headed back to our bikes. Barry and I gaped at him, and he snorted. ‘When I was in hospital, you dumb-bums! I knew that polio can kill you sometimes, but I never thought I would die. Not even for a second.’

  We pedalled back towards town. ‘Wonder if they’ll be opening the school b-b- the b-b-baths soon,’ Barry went. He got all tangled up as he spoke; I pretended not to notice.

  ‘Thought you were going to try to stop stammering,’ Clarry went. ‘You’ll never be able to talk to that Margaret girl.’

  ‘You shut up!’ Barry snarled. ‘J-Just shut up!’

  Clarry did.

  I read more of The Lost World. There’s a couple of great bits where Professor Challenger’s friends are attacked by a stegosaurus, and where they help a tribe of humans fight ape-men. I’m still wondering about becoming an author. Can you do that in New Zealand?

  When Dad got home, I told him about the old couple by the war graves. He nodded. ‘I saw a lot of our blokes’ graves in Egypt and Greece: just a wooden cross with their name and army number. There are a few Americans buried in the Karori Cemetery down in Wellington — died of wounds after the hospital ships brought them back.’

  ‘What happens to any Japs who die here?’

  Dad picked up the little carved fish. ‘They’re cremated, and their ashes are scattered. Our government asked the Nip government, through the Red Cross, but they didn’t reply. They won’t even admit that any of their men were taken prisoner.’

  We listened to the BBC News. The British and Free French (the ones who didn’t surrender after Germany invaded France) have captured back one of the French parts of Africa. The British Navy has sunk some Nazi ships away up near the Arctic Ocean. This is a real world war, alright.

  ‘Colonel Wallace announces the war news to the Nips most mornings,’ my father said. ‘He makes them line up and tells them through Captain Ashton. Wants them to know they’re losing. They just stare straight ahead.’

  Sunday tomorrow. Then a few busy days. We’re going to clear out Tak Yee’s sheds. And Lieutenant Ito is going to teach us Japanese.

  SUNDAY, 3 JANUARY It’s true. The lessons will be in the civilian part of camp; nobody except guards is allowed into the military prisoners’ compound. Ito told Colonel Wallace that if he made them learn about the British, with the Union Jack flying and pictures of King George VI, then some of us should learn about Japan. He said if the military prisoners knew this was happening, they might cooperate more.

  ‘Sheer blackmail!’ Dad told Mum and me. ‘And he got away with it, the cunning sod. Bruce was on duty in the camp office, and he says the colonel got pretty red in the face about it. But Captain Ashton has talked him into giving it a trial.’

  Mum looked worried. ‘They’re only boys, and Clarry … Will they be alright?’

  ‘They’ll be fine, Molly. There’ll be a guard with them. And Ito has given his word of honour. The Nips don’t do that lightly.’

  He looked at me. ‘You treat Lieutenant Ito with respect, OK, Ewen? A few military prisoners think he’s lowering himself by having anything to do with the enemy. You can help him and us if you do things right. I’m relying on you, son.’

  I felt really important. After breakfast this morning I headed straight over to tell Barry and Clarry. ‘Great!’ went Clarry. ‘Bet I’m better than you two!’

  Finished The Lost World. A pterodactyl flies over London! Oh, and I completely forgot: those pot lids have turned up at camp. The Japs had hidden them so they had more things to bang together on New Year’s Eve!

  MONDAY, 4 JANUARY The holidays are nearly half over, and I’ve done hardly anything! So today I did. We started clearing out Tak Yee’s sheds.

  Before that, I had a problem. I picked up Barry and Clarry, and as soon as we started biking into town, Barry told me. His father doesn’t want them to have any Japanese lessons. He just about hit the roof when they told him. ‘Who does that bloody Nip think he is? That lot have been starving and torturing our blokes in their camps, and now he’s your teacher? Come off it!’

  Barry said their mother calmed his dad down, and he’s going to think about it, but he was still annoyed when he left for work. Barry and Clarry are feeling pretty down.

  Tak Yee was talking to old Mrs Laurie, who smiled at us, and went, ‘Isn’t it a lovely day!’

  ‘Her grandson is come home,’ Mr Yee told us after she’d gone. ‘He not need to watch for ships now. Japanese gone. Best riddance!’

  He led us out the back to the two sheds. ‘You sort out. Keep anything you like. Make big rubbish pile.’

  The sheds were piled with old newspapers and boxes and tin cans. Some of the papers were really interesting. NOVEMBER 26, 1938: GREAT BRITAIN ALLOWS IN TEN THOUSAND JEWISH CHILDREN FROM GERMANY AND AUSTRIA, AFTER THE NAZIS ATTACK JEWISH PEOPLE AND BURN THEIR SHOPS AND HOUSES. MAY 6, 1937: AN AIRSHIP, THE HINDENBURG, EXPLODES IN FLAMES MOORING AT AN AMERICAN AIRPORT.

  After an hour or so, Tak Yee stuck his head out the back door. ‘Good, good. You come and eat apple.’

  We trooped inside, Clarry holding onto the walls because he had taken his braces off. Inside, we got a nasty shock. Mr Yee was talking to a small figure dressed in black. The figure glared at us.

  ‘Hello, Miss Mutter,’ Clarry and I said. Barry tried to, but he stammered so much, he couldn’t get the words out. She went ‘Shlowly, boy. Jusht relaxsh. Deep breath firsht.’ Barry did, and finally managed to speak.

  The front door-bell jangled, and my mother appeared. We grabbed the apples, and escaped out the back again as the three grown-ups started talking.

  About an hour
after that, Tak Yee appeared, said ‘You come Monday’, and gave us sixpence each. We kept taking the money out and looking at it.

  We didn’t go straight home; we went to the Featherston Library first. I found another Professor Challenger book, The Poison Belt.

  We went on to the Morrises’. Mum was there. She and Mrs Morris both looked kind of dazed. No wonder: Miss Mutter is going to give Barry free speech lessons, to help with his stammer!

  TUESDAY, 5 JANUARY Miss Mutter isn’t just giving the speech lessons. She says we should learn Japanese out at camp. ‘You could have knocked me down with a feather!’ Mum went.

  It’s because of Barry stuttering so badly in Tak Yee’s shop. Mum said what a pity it was, and Miss Mutter asked why people weren’t doing something about it, and … ‘And one thing led to another,’ Mum said.

  Miss Mutter used to be a speech teacher. I didn’t know that. Barry has to go to her place a couple of times a week until school starts again. And Miss Mutter said to tell Mr Morris that learning the sounds of another language could be very helpful for Barry’s speech. So Mr Morris mumbled and muttered (ha ha) and said alright. He’s still not keen on it, but Barry and Clarry can come to the Japanese lessons!

  Dad is at the camp. I started reading The Poison Belt. It’s terrific! Earth orbits through this huge cloud of poisonous dust in space, and everyone seems to be dying — except for Prof Challenger and some friends, who seal themselves up inside his house.

  This afternoon, we three kids went to the school baths. They’re open in the holidays if a teacher is there. It was one of the primer teachers today.

  We swam and mucked about. Clarry can’t kick much with his legs and they keep sinking, but he managed.

  After a while, we heard voices approaching. Barry’s face turned red, and I’m sure my face turned redder. It was Susan Proctor and Margaret Nicholls.

  Clarry yakked away to them about how he can swim and walk. He never mentioned that we tow him everywhere! The girls fussed over him, and he showed off even more.

  When Barry tried to talk to Margaret, he stammered worse than ever. But she and Susan listened, and said things that gave him time to try again. I even found myself talking to them! When I mentioned the Japanese lessons, Susan Proctor went, ‘That’s super!’ Maybe she’s made a New Year’s resolution not to be a snob.