Escape to Pagan

by Brian Devereux

  “Finally we reached the water. We were so desperately thirsty that we could not wait to boil the water first before drinking. Then we lit a fire with dry sticks and boiled some water and added powdered milk for you. You were a big heavy child – not a big eater, but you would drink anything [I still do, Mother]. Thank God you could walk most of the time in the baby shoes I had brought for you.

  “There were many sandbanks in the middle of the river. The water was quite shallow, but flowing and clear. My mother began to search for turtle eggs, looking first for signs of where monitor lizards had been digging. I kept begging my mother to find a Burmese village so we could spend a night off the ground, and have a roof over our heads and the protection of a door. But my mother would always say: ‘Humans are far more dangerous to us than wild animals.’ We washed ourselves under the shade of trees where it was cooler and we could not be seen from the opposite bank, and then rested. It was so nice to feel clean.”

  Most Burmese villagers were now anti-British; they had lost all respect for their former masters. The Japanese after all, were Asiatic Buddhists and rice eaters like themselves. The Japanese promised the Burmese independence and both races held a deep dislike for the Chinese.

  “We would wash ourselves morning, afternoon and early evening. Washing always revived us. But I was always afraid of things that lived in the river and the jungle that surrounded it. I always dreaded the coming night. We headed deeper into the rural countryside keeping to the riverbank. The sounds of fighting were now behind us in the far distance but we could still see huge spirals of black smoke high up in the sky.”

  I wonder if the tall spirals of smoke were from the oilfields of Yenangyaung. It is difficult to gauge where Grandmother was heading.

  “Far ahead we could see green hills. Sometimes we could hear dogs barking; this usually meant there was a Burmese village nearby. The thought of sleeping on the ground between the edge of the jungle and the river terrified me; we placed you between us for safety and watched the sun slowly sinking towards the horizon. Thank God you never cried much at night, the noise would have travelled far, attracting not only humans but dangerous wild animals. Despite the fact my mother always cut thorny cactus branches and placed them all around us to deter soft-footed predators, I could only sleep in snatches and kept waking my mother when I heard a strange noise. It was now April. This was the hottest time of the year in Burma, but the early mornings were always cold. We shivered; we needed more blankets.”

  CHAPTER 8

  The Attack

  HONG KONG

  “The last letter I received from Jack was about a week before his regiment was moved to Kowloon [Mainland]. I think this was because their other position was infested with mosquitoes and many of the men were going down with malaria. Jack said he was informed that the Japs would not attack from China but from the sea, so his regiment was in a relatively safe position on the mainland. I was not to worry, he would be returning to the Shan States soon after he had been promoted to Regimental Sergeant Major on the recommendation of his Commanding Officer Colonel White. I began to put the finishing touches to our new home ready for Jack’s return. There was so much to do.”

  New Territories, Mainland China

  Two hours before nightfall on the 7th December; the Royal Scots did their best to improve their defensive positions and bring up equipment and ammunition to their open trenches. The men had still not received any food or water that day and would not do so for another twenty-four hours. Water was now in short supply both for drinking and for the thirsty Vickers machine guns.

  Early on that day, led by 2nd Lieutenant Ford and Sergeant Devereux, D Company 2nd Battalion took up their positions on the Gin Drinkers’ Line. Sergeant Devereux cursed some of the slower men in a language they understood for lagging behind but he knew these men were still suffering the after-effects of malaria, or were just beginning to succumb to the parasites swarming in their bloodstream. Although he had never suffered this strength sapping disease himself, he had seen strong men barely able to walk unaided within a few hours of infection.

  Both Officer and Sergeant looked over the vital ground that lay before them without speaking. They could be forgiven for wondering why they had been moved by Brigadier Wallis from Hong Kong to the mainland on such short notice and why General Maltby expected them to hold this position for a vital seven days. A week, Maltby had claimed, was needed to organize Hong Kong’s defences, yet months had been squandered.

  On the Gin Drinkers’ Line the defensive position had changed little since Lieutenant Ford and the Sergeant had first inspected the trenches a few months earlier; perhaps just a few more empty Gordon’s Gin bottles had been added by the picnickers. Both men wished that sandbags, barbed wire and anti-personnel mines had been available.

  Despite their misgivings, the officer and Sergeant kept their own counsel; it would not be good for the men’s moral to air their views. The die was cast. The ground in front of them looked deserted. The hungry soldiers of D Company relaxed after they had settled in and stared into the approaching gloom of twilight. Perhaps the intelligence officer was correct: Japanese soldiers really were afraid of the dark. A mist was slowly beginning to rise from the lower ground ahead; it grew colder. The Sergeant posted sentries and watched the soldiers settle down in the open trenches then gave the men permission to smoke. It would be a long night. The soldiers grumbled at the delay in bringing up their rations. Porridge, cooked in water with a small sprinkle of salt, was all they had eaten for breakfast that day. The soldiers cursed the catering corps and settled down for the night wrapping themselves in their greatcoats.

  General Sakai (a Francophile) was confident. He had a low opinion of the British as fighting men, they had won an empire using guns against spears; he often lectured his staff. General Sakai admired Napoleon. His Grande Armée proved unbeatable for eleven years, a record in modern warfare. It was the British Royal Navy that secured the British Empire and it had been defeated by the Imperial Nipponese Navy “The Floating Chrysanthemums.” Yet General Sakai was angry; over three hundred of his fighting men were suffering the various stages of “the soldier’s plague.” General Sakai firmly believed the English had deliberately introduced this malady, along with opium, to China. The Chinese in turn felt it their given duty to pass on this disease to the pristine and pure fighting manhood of Dai Nippon.

  To a Japanese soldier, catching this Anglo-Saxon pox was an insult to their Emperor; the punishments were more painful than the treatment. Many infected Japanese soldiers had soon learnt to keep their new acquisition a secret and with good reason. It was not the dreaded umbrella the Nipponese soldier feared, but good old fashioned beating (on the third infection they could be shot). With this in mind the infected soldiers generously shared their affliction among the many unwilling females in their massive empire; they were going to die anyway: Banzai!

  Later on in Japan, venereal disease among the Japanese troops presented the POWs, including dad and his group, with a chance to earn money. The idea first germinated in the active mind of an Australian POW. The prisoners made up their own special formulas of “unctions,” all guaranteed to cure the clap; these homemade unctions always had three things in common: they tasted terrible, were harmful to man and lastly had no effect on the pox whatsoever. The afflicted Nippon warrior of course, could not complain.

  In General Sakai’s headquarters the enemy staff officers prayed to their various Buddhas that darkness would fall soon and the usual ground mists would rise and completely mask the soldiers’ final approach to their start off positions, ready for the attack the next morning.

  The following day at 8am on the 8th December the Japanese attacked the Royal Scots on the Gin Drinkers’ Line. First the defenders were saluted with a volley of hand grenades before the enemy engaged. The shock of the unsuspected attack must have been great. To add to the defenders troubles, their own artillery began to shell them from behind. All too quickly the Japanese infantry were in am
ong the Scots; hand to hand fighting began. Individual struggles of life and death took place. The first attack was repulsed by the Scots.

  In a short lull in the fighting, the Royal Scots tended their wounded and moved their dead, then cleared the enemy dead from the trenches. Even the experienced defenders were shocked; they had never met an enemy that was not afraid to die. The attacks continued throughout the morning.

  During a pause in the fighting, Lieutenant Ford received orders from Captain Pinkerton to attack Golden Hill as Japanese troops were seen establishing themselves there. D Company was ordered to counter attack. Officer and Sergeant roused the weary men. The Sergeant’s luck could not continue; he had already received a generous measure of good fortune. Despite being in the thick of the hand-to-hand fighting he was unharmed. He had killed several enemy soldiers and felt the warm turbulence of bullets, the zing of red hot shards of shrapnel and the sharp air slicing sound of a sword stroke.

  The bone weary soldiers of D Company moved towards Golden Hill, urged on by their Officer and Sergeant. The men shouldered their weapons and heavy equipment and began the steep slog to the summit of Golden Hill. For many of the exhausted and hungry men this march proved too much; they were forced to crawl on all fours uphill dragging their weapons and equipment behind them. The heavy machine guns of D Company were now low on water. The spare water for these guns had been drunk by the thirsty men. The extra water was supposed to arrive with their food. Lieutenant Ford and Sergeant Devereux led D Company to the highest point on Golden Hill.

  The shelling from Hong Kong had stopped; somehow an officer of the Royal Scots contacted the British artillery and got the gunners to lengthen their range. The Royal Navy (who had ranged their guns correctly) also joined in and began to accurately land their six-inch shells in the middle of the attacking enemy. This gave the Scots a short respite. D Company cleared the enemy infantry from the top of the hill with a bayonet charge. However a counterattack from the Japanese regained their position.

  As Lieutenant Ford was wounded, Sergeant Devereux led the next bayonet charge, his eyes fixed on a group of enemy soldiers pulling a mountain gun up the hill with rope. The gun had to be captured to stop it being fired at point blank range at the Scots below. The Sergeant fired his revolver into the straining group of Japanese soldiers and then felt a blow to his head. The strength in his legs vanished. His right eye now only focused on a small clump of grass that was being sprayed red with every beat of his heart. Familiar voices were now replaced by guttural martial tones. From the corner of his eye, he could see sturdy puttied bound legs stop then move on. He expected the bayonet at any moment. It did not come; proof that his severe head wound indicated he was dead or dying. As he watched his blood enrich the poor soil, he felt a deep sadness: he was dying. Afraid to close his one working eye, as it was his only link to the living world, he resisted the dark void that beckoned him to rise up and move towards painless oblivion …

  Seeing that D Company was about to be overwhelmed, Captain Pinkerton gave the order for it to withdraw and return to their original positions on the Gin Drinkers’ Line. The attacks on the Royal Scots continued. It became clear the enemy could not be held for seven days. The order to withdraw back to Hong Kong Island was given by Bridger Wallis. There was now a danger of the enemy outflanking them. As far as I am aware Bridger Wallis’ Rajputs had not come under attack. Colonel White went out to watch the return of his tired and depleted men.

  General Sakai now wished to move his headquarters nearer to Hong Kong. The young Japanese 2nd Lieutenant Nakamura was left behind to supervise the loading of the office equipment; his sword still unblooded. Everything loaded, the convoy moved off. The 2nd Lieutenant sat in the first vehicle. While passing near Golden Hill he ordered his driver to stop. “Wait here.” These were the last words he spoke.

  Reaching the battlefield on Golden Hill he drew his sword and walked among the dead. It was then he recognized the tall Sergeant he had been watching the evening before. He stopped and studied the man that lay at his feet and noticed he was still alive. Time was short, if he arrived late at the new headquarters his face would be slapped by his seniors. The Japanese 2nd Lieutenant lifted his treasured blade. He was nervous …

  By dawn on the 11th December most of the forward troops on the mainland had been withdrawn back to the island. Surprisingly, back on Hong Kong Island that afternoon, life went on more or less as normal. Some cinemas, restaurants etc were still busy; some troops were still drinking in the bars. One civilian couple were being served breakfast by a Chinese servant on their front veranda. Others were already on the golf course.

  CHAPTER 9

  Wild Dogs in the Moonlight

  BURMA

  “I was so happy we had a constant supply of water and could keep ourselves clean. I no longer cared it was river water. Later on, this river would produce a few nasty surprises for us. Life in the wilds of Burma was unpredictable even to the wary and watchful. I worried when we were in the water catching freshwater crabs; I always stayed in the shallows while you were happy playing with mud on the bank.

  “After quenching our thirst and washing we carried on along the high riverbank; at every opportunity we would drink and wash again in the shade of overhanging trees. Unfortunately the only utensil we had that held water was a big tin-pot with a handle. Early one morning I was sitting down in the shade on the riverbank with you on my lap, when I heard a loud splash on the opposite bank. Although the sun was shining in my eyes, I could just make out that a big darkish animal had jumped into the river and was swimming towards us. My mother was in the Riverine jungle nearby collecting firewood for our morning tea. I became afraid and quickly got up. My mother had also heard the splash and rushed back. We picked up all our possessions and continued as fast as we could walk along the riverbank in case the animal was a tiger. There were no convenient trees to climb for safety. When we looked back we saw the large dark animal standing on a sandbank digging up turtle’s eggs. It was a big wild boar.

  “The Far East has some beautiful sunsets, yet all I worried about was the coming darkness. To hear an animal at night moving around and not see what it was, terrified me. Burma is a lush and fertile country with abundant natural and cultivated produce. Famine was unknown in this over flowing rice and fruit bowl of Asia. Almost every domesticated edible plant, whether it be fruit or vegetable, had its wild origins in the rural countryside, especially along river banks. The secret was identifying the similarity in the leaves. Yet we had to be careful. There were also many poisonous plants bearing pods and fruit.

  “Burma is a gardener’s paradise; a small bamboo shoot could grow four inches overnight or a buried seed germinate in a single day in the right conditions. So rich was the natural bounty of this fertile land that a Burmese man could retire at the age of thirty and as a result, large numbers of young men would become Buddhist monks. When the river widened and the banks became less steep we found clumps of Roberts’ greens (another name for water spinach) growing close to the water’s edge; slowly boiled with crabmeat, it made a lovely soup.”

  The first-time visitor to Burma who had travelled via India would quickly notice that the Burmese belonged to a totally different race of humanity than the Indians. Instead of the aquiline bone structure of dark Indo-Aryans, they were now in a country populated by easygoing, smiling Mongolians, who lounged in the shade wearing cool colourful longyis. It was the shrewder, hardworking Indians who dominated the rice and timber trade and the lucrative government jobs.

  “In Burma women conducted their business while smoking thick hand-rolled cigars. Women held an equal position in society and commerce. Any serious confrontations between a man and woman resulted in the woman taking off her slippers with the intention of hitting the man. Seeing this, the male would quickly retire; to be hit by a female’s slipper in public is considered a great insult. A far greater insult was for the female to turn around and lift up her longyi to waist height baring her naked buttocks.
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br />   “We continued along the riverbank but often had to go back in the riverine jungle as the path disappeared. When in the river, I was always on the lookout for leeches. The big buffalo leeches were six inches long and as thick as a finger. Unlike the smaller leeches, their bites were very painful. Sometimes when several of these big leeches entered the throats of cattle and became swollen with blood, the animal suffocated. The strange way in which these big leeches swam towards us in the water used to frighten me. With the monsoon, thousands of smaller leeches would also appear. I was told never place my mouth directly into a river or stream or drink from my hands for a species of very small leech could enter the mouth and live and develop in the nasal passages.”

  Leeches have no eyes but home in on a victim’s exhaled carbon dioxide like blind and legless aliens. A lifeless looking dry belt, after heavy rain, suddenly becomes alive with leeches. Young Japanese soldiers in Tada u loved to torture leeches, scorpions and large spiders in their leisure time; placing them in a fire ants nest after antagonising the ants. Forcing spider to fight spider or scorpion v spider was another favourite. They encouraged us young children and the older boys to catch and bring them more victims. Ironically these leeches were to get their revenge on these young teenage Japanese soldiers who had cheerfully marched up from Thailand pulling their guns. They would soon be taking part in the battles of Imphal and Kohima. On their retreat from India during the monsoon they lay weak and starving on the slippery rain lashed jungle tracks, covered in leeches, begging their passing comrades to shoot them.

  “After our thirst was quenched our hunger returned. As the sun was slowly sinking in the west, I could only think of one thing. Where were we going to sleep that night? I was terrified of walking in the dark. Fortunately, just as the sun was setting in the darkening skyline, we saw the silhouette of a flimsily, dilapidated fisherman’s hut made from bamboo and palm leaves. Even from a distance the hut looked unstable. We climbed up into it on a rickety bamboo ladder. The structure could just about take our weight but only if we kept to the back of the hut. Every time we moved the hut lurched to one side and creaked but I was so grateful to be off the ground.