by David
That same afternoon, Digger persuaded Sos and Eddie Wheeler to accompany him to a local Japanese camp. For Digger, baiting the Japs had become a sport. Sos and Eddie however, while agreeing with Digger’s attitude, could not completely shake the feeling that any contact with the Japanese military could earn them a beating. And they knew that every time they encountered Japanese troops, Digger would push the boundaries. But as mates do, they went along anyway.
They entered the local Japanese camp through the gate with the familiar terraced guard post, which for so many long months had symbolised their complete lack of freedom. There was no challenge and they continued on to the main offices. It did not appear to be a very large camp, Digger noticed. As they came to the offices, a group of three men came out. When they were about ten metres from the Japanese, the middle one – a captain – held up his hand in what may have been a half salute or an aborted signal for them to halt.
Digger picked up on the captain’s momentary hesitation. He walked straight up to him, stopping less than a metre away. He used his Thompson submachine gun to point to the camera that was hanging around the captain’s neck. As he lightly poked the man in the chest with the barrel of the gun, he said in a loud, clear voice, ‘I’ll have that – it’s my camera.’
Whether the captain understood English or not, there was no mistaking what Digger wanted. The man simply unslung his camera and handed it over. In the background, Digger could hear Eddie Wheeler swearing under his breath: ‘For fuck’s sake, Digger!’
Digger smiled at the captain and said, very politely, ‘Thank you very much.’ He turned around and led his mates out of the camp.
As soon as they passed the guard post and were out of earshot, Sos looked earnestly at Digger. ‘You’ll get us all court-martialled, you bastard. What the hell did you do that for?’
‘For Christ’s sake, calm down,’ Digger said. ‘There’s nobody going to court-martial anybody now. They’re all too busy cleaning up the fucking mess here. Anyway, how would it look in the local papers back home: “Heroes find graves and are charged with pinching a Japanese camera”! Whose side would everyone be on? Just forget it.’
But Sos couldn’t forget it, and he kept on about it all the way back to camp.
Digger explained as best he could that, at Changi, all the POWs had lost their possessions. ‘Did you lose your kit, Sos? Yes, of course you did. We were all sent up the railway and never saw our kits again – and we never will! Is that right?’
Digger again looked at Sos, and before he could answer, Digger almost shouted, ‘Of course it’s bloody right! So this camera is my camera. It’s the camera that I left in my kit in the store when we all went to Changi, and I’ve just recovered it. I tell you what – if you had a camera in your kitbag, we’ll get it back tomorrow.’
‘Oh, just forget it,’ Sos at last managed to reply.
They walked the rest of the way back to the camp in silence. When they arrived, Digger showed his camera to others in the group, and soon everyone had heard the story. Naturally, it reached the ears of Captain White and Captain Bruce.
Early in the evening, Captain Bruce approached Digger for a word. As they wandered down the track, Bruce explained very clearly that Digger would be court-martialled for his offence unless he returned the camera. He explained that there was no way he could do anything else. The Japanese officer had been to see him, and that made the complaint official.
Digger then explained his reasoning and why he regarded it as his camera. There was obviously a Japanese somewhere walking around with his original camera – very probably a senior officer.
Digger appreciated the way that Captain Bruce had spoken to him, without any of the usual crap connected with official army investigations. It was just as well, because Digger would have rebelled against any attempt at a formal process. He insisted that he still regarded it as his camera and that therefore he would keep it. He didn’t believe a court martial could possibly result from this.
A night’s sleep is a great thing when important decisions must be made. In the morning, Digger went to Captain Bruce and gave him the camera. Bruce said nothing other than ‘thank you’.
Digger had reasoned that if he did not return the camera, Bruce would have been forced to report the matter on their return to Bangkok. An official inquiry might also involve Sos and Eddie, who, of course, had had nothing to do with it. Lastly, he had of course signed that bloody piece of paper promising not to do this very thing. It was clear that hanging onto the camera would be more trouble that it was worth.
The POW camp at Kinsaiyok was their next stop on the way down the railway. It was set in a beautiful area, with tropical jungle vegetation and hills with deep valleys, rivers and waterfalls. But this had made it very difficult terrain through which to build a railway; Digger knew the POWs must have had a terrible time working here.
The group arrived at Kinsaiyok on 2 October 1945. They investigated and recorded two large cemeteries in the area, with a total of 347 graves, and a large ‘cholera grave’ that contained an unknown number of bodies. All those who died of cholera had been cremated and the remains buried together.
In the five days they were based at Kinsaiyok, some of the War Graves party used the diesel train to go up and down the railway line, looking for various cemeteries. Others used the jeep to explore gravesites in places that could not be accessed from the railway.
One reason they based themselves at Kinsaiyok was because of an incident that had occurred at Hintok a week or so before. A railway bridge had collapsed when a train was crossing on its way up the line; the driver and two others had died. When Digger and a few of the others got this news, they resolved to walk over all the bridges on their return journey.
Lieutenant Leemon wrote about one of these crossings in his diary.
Crossing the ‘pack of cards bridge’ past Hintock – some of those with us had been at the building and told stories of cutting off the ends of the supporting beams so that there was no support under the soil and shovelling in buckets full of white ants. All were nervous at the crossing. So was I.4
Digger held clinics for the local people at a few places around Kinsaiyok. He had no knowledge of the graves in this area and so had little else to do. He had spoken to Captain Bruce and Captain White about the graves at Kanchanaburi, but they had seemed preoccupied with their current tasks.
Early one morning at Kinsaiyok, Digger was able to persuade Sos Simpson and Eddie Wheeler to accompany him on yet another ‘tiger hunt’. He promised that he would in no way get them into any bother. In fact, there had been many reports of actual tigers in this area. The local Japanese were apparently terrified of them but Digger and his mates had never seen one before. Anyhow, there were three of them and they each had their trusty Thompson gun.
They walked along a narrow track though light scrub. They were about three kilometres away from the Japanese camp that they were making for when they heard a voice in the distance – a man was obviously in distress. They came to an open area that had recently been cleared. They saw a bloke about 150 metres away who appeared to be stuck up a large tree. As they got a little closer, they recognised the language he was speaking.
‘It’s a fucking Nip,’ said Eddie. ‘What’s up with him?’
No one answered. None of them instinctively wanted to help this man, as they might have in different circumstances. They laughed and thought about how they might turn this to their advantage, and moved to a spot where they could not be seen from the tree.
Sos’s eyes suddenly widened. He grabbed Eddie’s arm and pointed in the Japanese’s direction. ‘Look! Look at that big patch of grass to the left of the tree – it’s a fucking tiger!’
The tiger could be seen only if they stared intently at the grass patch, so well did its colours blend in with the dead grass. As they stared at it, they saw that the tiger was crouched down on all fours. Its tail flicked from side to side, and its gaze appeared to be fixed on its prey – the man up the
tree.
The sun was rapidly rising behind them, and the breeze – if there was one – was in their faces, so it was unlikely that the tiger would detect them.
Sos had recovered from his surprise. ‘Well, it must be happy if it’s wagging its tail, eh?’ he said.
‘Don’t be such a fucking idiot,’ Eddie whispered back. ‘It’s dogs that wag when they’re happy – cats wag when they are concentrating on something.’
‘Okay, okay, let’s just shut up and think about what we’re going to do,’ Digger said.
‘Maybe he’s happy because he’s going to eat a Japanese,’ Sos continued. ‘I wonder what Japanese taste like, anyway. Like shit, I bet!’
The group shrank back further to make sure they would not be seen. Digger later realised that they had remained remarkably cool, considering the situation. They knew instinctively that the tiger was too far away for an accurate shot from a Thompson submachine gun. Should they try to get close enough to kill the tiger? How dangerous would this be? Should they get help for the poor bloke or just let him stay there? Sos joked that maybe they should shoot him and let the tiger have him.
Finally, they decided to back off as quietly as possible and get the hell out of there. They agreed that, in the circumstances, nature should just take its course.
On their return to camp they said nothing, even when Lieutenant Eldridge asked jokingly how many tigers they had bagged that morning. They just went about their normal duties, keeping their ears open for any news of tiger attacks.
On 5 October, Padre Babb reported the conversations he’d had that day with local people.
. . . we were excitedly told more Tiger stories. A tiger last night had kept four Japanese soldiers up a tree all night. A tigress and one cub had entered a Tamil camp and taken off one coolie who was just outside the entrance to a hut: a tiger had struck another coolie who was near a ‘window’ of another hut and the unfortunate fellow bled to death. Nagase was positively greyish green with fright – he has had three sleepless nights in succession.5
The whole camp was talking about tigers that evening, but the three ‘tiger hunters’ did not mention their experiences of that morning.
On 7 October the War Graves party left Kinsaiyok for Wanpo station. When they arrived, someone in the group carelessly left a pistol on the floor of one of the attap-palm-covered wagons. It lay in full view of the many locals who were milling around the area.
Digger was busy treating a couple of locals beside the railway track, and a few others had also gathered, obviously hoping for some medical help. Digger noticed the pistol as he moved to get some more gear from the wagon, but before he could retrieve it he saw a young local, probably in his teens, pick it up and run off down the shallow embankment.
Digger didn’t hesitate and immediately set off after him. Before he knew it, he was on a bush track with jungle on both sides. It wasn’t long before he was gaining on the boy.
Suddenly the youth stopped running and turned around. It took Digger a fraction of a second to process the image of this young boy pointing the pistol directly at him. He instantly decided that discretion was the better part of valour, so in one fluid motion he turned around and ran as fast as he could in the other direction. He was back at the train within a minute.
They would all have to be more careful in future. Digger was very thankful that the young man had decided not to fire at him during his very hasty retreat.
The only major location that remained for the group to visit was Kanchanaburi. Digger had lived – or, rather, existed – here for many long, hungry months. He knew where each and every grave was located because he had dug many of them. Mostly they’d been for the romusha, who died at twice the rate of the Allied POWs, but Digger also knew where other graves were.
It irked Digger somewhat that, even now, the leaders of the War Graves mission seemed to dismiss his attempts to provide information about the gravesites at Kanchanaburi. As soon as he brought the subject up, he was told that they had all the information they needed and were sure they would be able to locate everything. It crossed Digger’s mind that perhaps the camera incident had soured his relationship with the leaders, but that was no skin off his nose. Then he thought of all the men he had known at Kanchanaburi whose graves he had dug. He resolved to continue offering all the information he had.
After the party had logged over 500 graves in the area, Digger’s pestering could no longer be ignored. Captain White organised for him to accompany Lieutenants Leemon and Eldridge to show them a few more graves. Padre Babb reported on the day’s findings.
16.30 hours and the lorry had returned: ‘Doc’ Barrett had done his stuff with a vengeance. Near Kanchanaburi No 1 Cemetery, as close as 100 metres behind what the Nips had said was a Coolie Cemetery is a large cemetery with British, Australians and Dutch buried in it – the cemetery had been cleared but not railed off. The mounds had been made up and some of the original crosses are still standing. Names were taken down. There are 276 graves in this No. 2 Cemetery. Adjacent to this one was yet another cemetery – No. 3, and 128 graves are there. ‘Doc’ said there is another just here, and through a bit of scrub he led the way to an area where 130 lads are buried. This last cemetery has no number. So once No. 1 Cemetery is located the rest is easy in that area . . . It was poor work on our part to have missed 3 cemeteries near No. 1 Cemetery and we were far too easily ‘put off’ by the Nips when they said that there were no more thereabouts. We were silly not to have taken ‘Doc’ Barrett with us in the morning – for he had actually dug many of the graves and carved some of the names on the crosses. Had he not quite openly and repeatedly said ‘I do know where there are more cemeteries; I ought to for I have dug some of the graves and was stationed here for 18 months’ – anyhow he has played his part and but for him we would have missed 534 graves . . . I had heard of the high death rate in this area in 1943 and early 1944 – very sick men were being evacuated from up country. Now I can see by the huge add up of graves what a terrible time this must have been for all concerned.6
This view was confirmed by Jack Leemon, who reported that Captain Bruce had refused to listen to what Digger had to say about gravesites at Kanchanaburi, but that he and Eldridge had listened and so they took Digger out on his own. They had found a further 534 gravesites.7
Digger was also concerned about the terrible fate of the native labourers, the romusha, who had died on the railway by the thousands – about 100,000, Digger guessed. He had tried to explain this to the authorities in Bangkok before the trip, but they’d dismissed him – they were only interested in Allied POW graves. This was probably why, a number of times during the expedition, the War Graves Commission officers had been persuaded by the Japanese that some graves were ‘just’ romusha graves.
Digger slept well that night, knowing that – at last – he had been listened to and his mates would be honoured and remembered. It was a satisfying feeling.
The party arrived back at Nakorn Pathon on 10 October 1945. The expedition had lasted eighteen days. Padre Babb recorded his thoughts about the success of the mission.
Our work for the Graves Commission is now completed and our hard working little party tried to point out 10,549 Allied war graves on and near this ‘Railway of death’. We failed to locate 152 of these, and I am sure that all will agree that we have done well. There are 144 cemeteries in which are buried young British, Australians, American and Dutch sailors, airmen and soldiers of all ranks. This Railway is certainly not mis-named.
With proud thanksgiving, like a mother for her children, the home countries will mourn for those who have died as prisoners of war out in this far distant land – they were our friends and our fellow comrades. ‘They went with songs to the battle – they were young, straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow’ when they were captured. As such let us remember them. It is true that they will not, on this earth, mingle with their laughing comrades – they will not see their native lands again – they gave everything they
had; their lives, for us and their dear ones that we might all be free.
‘They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old; age will not weary them nor the years condemn; at the going down of the sun and in the morning, we must remember them – we must not break faith with them.’8
Chapter 15
Transition
When the War Graves Commission expedition concluded, the party was disbanded and the authorities made arrangements to send all the ex-POWs home. Digger was promised a flight home from Singapore – a most unusual circumstance in those days – which he expected was partly a reward for his volunteering for the War Graves work.
By now, Max Wall had been shipped home. Digger found himself billeted at the Oriental Hotel for a few days as arrangements were made to send him to Singapore. The Oriental was considered the best hotel in Bangkok in 1945. It was certainly a vast improvement on the On-on Hotel. Everything was paid for by the War Graves Commission – even down to the girl that Digger discovered in his bed after he had checked in.
She was beautiful and even spoke a little English. She appeared to be clean on first inspection, and she smelled great, so I kept her. It was a strange but convenient circumstance. We would spend the night together, and in the morning she was always anxious to leave the hotel before breakfast. I never asked her what she did all day and she never told me.
I had things to do at Sathorn House, organising to get paid and so on, and I just generally took in the sights, ate well at every meal and had a great time throughout the daylight hours. She would be back again in the evening, and we would eat together, go out for a few drinks and get back to the hotel – pretty early, usually! That was how it was for all the time I was there. I never paid her anything and I never asked if someone was paying her. I presumed someone was. It was an excellent arrangement.