Barbed Wire and Cherry Blossoms

by Anita Heiss

  He is only a few lines into the story before he closes his eyes, shoulders sagging. ‘My family,’ he says. ‘They are not close but if there is one bomb, there will be more.’ He sighs. ‘There will be many deaths. My beautiful country, the landscape . . . gone.’ He tries to imagine that his own country has survived some of that devastation, but knows in his heart it won’t have. How could it? The Americans have atomic bombs. How can anyone fight that?

  Hiroshi becomes lost in his own misery at the thought of the destruction of Japan by the United States and Mary stands there watching the man she loves, lost in the deep hate he feels for those who have dropped the atomic bomb.

  17

  31 August 1945

  A BURNING HATRED FOR JAPS

  It’s hard for Mary not to take the headline in the Guardian personally. The Australians are with the Allies, but they too have caused enormous death and damage. Why weren’t atomic bombs dropped on the Germans, if they were the enemy as well? She wonders if the Japanese talk about the ‘American Peril’. Mary feels betrayed by Australians, although she knows her judgement is clouded because of what she feels in her heart. But at the end of the day, no one is better than the other in the war.

  Mary has taken to reading the paper just to herself and leaving it for her parents to read on their own. She has lost her interest in the shared experience, only wanting to be with Hiroshi. As well as Hiroshima, the US has dropped an atomic bomb on Nagasaki, and Japan has surrendered at last. There was a parade down Kendal Street, celebrating the end of the hostilities. The war has come to an end and Mary knows countries will sign documents and make agreements and war reparations will be agreed upon, but she doesn’t know what will happen to the Japanese soldiers still in Cowra. She’s confused about everything going on around her; about her feelings, about what she should say and should not say to Hiroshi. She doesn’t think he needs to know that American troops are pouring into and occupying Tokyo. He doesn’t need to know that miles of Tokyo have been burned to the ground, leaving citizens living in huts on the fringes of the city. She knows the shame that surrendering must bring on Hiroshi’s home country, even though she is glad that the surrender has ended the war altogether. What Mary thinks Hiroshi needs to know is that he is not alone. But he also needs to know the truth about the surrender, even if she doesn’t tell him they are going ‘splendidly’!

  As she walks to the bunker that night, Mary is trying to decide what she will say, even as she concedes there is no easy way.

  ‘The war with Japan is over,’ she says to Hiroshi, but she does not smile.

  Hiroshi is grinning though, and rubbing his hands together. ‘We won?’ he asks, eyes sparkling with the hope that this will be something his father will be happy about.

  ‘Not really,’ Mary answers cautiously.

  ‘What does that mean, Mary? “Not really.” The war is over, yes?’ He nods at her for agreement, to check he heard correctly in the first instance.

  ‘Yes, the war is over, Hiroshi, but . . .’ She takes a breath. ‘But the Japanese, they – they surrendered.’

  ‘Oh, no, no.’ He shakes his head, ashamed for his nation, for every soldier who went to war, for the soldiers who died in the war, and the Emperor. ‘No, no, no.’

  ‘Hiroshi,’ Mary says softly, ‘are you okay?’

  He nods but says nothing. The shame of surrender has overshadowed any relief either of them may have felt that the war is finally over.

  Two weeks after Japan’s surrender, there is a dance at Erambie. Music is blaring out freely as John Smith is too busy with official business in town with his friend the mayor. Some of the Blacks who are married to white people and have moved off the mission have arrived at the party as well. Everyone is happy, kids are running wild and there’s damper and rabbit stew aplenty. Kevin is chatting to all the pretty women who aren’t spoken for.

  No one has noticed that Mary is not there, and thankfully no one sees her walking down the yard and into the shelter. Even though people are aware Banjo’s family are hiding Hiroshi, Mary is conscious of what people will think about her spending so much time with him. She knows the Cowra rumour mill and she doesn’t want to be the main focus of gossip. It’s not the first time she has dared to see Hiroshi in daylight, but she doesn’t want to startle him. Life is about to change and she is desperate.

  As she moves the sheet of corrugated iron across roughly, almost carelessly, Hiroshi panics, not knowing what to expect. As soon as Mary descends, however, he is holding her. He is as scared as she is – hearing all the noise above but not knowing what’s going on.

  ‘The troops will be coming home soon. They are celebrating here and in the town,’ she says breathlessly. ‘What’s going to happen to us?’ She breaks down in tears and sobs into his chest.

  Hiroshi holds her close but doesn’t have the answers. He is not in a position to make any promises to the woman he loves, as much as he wants to. He is not in a position to ask for anything more, given all that he has already received. He cannot do anything but wait to see what fate holds for him.

  18 SEPTEMBER 1945: COWRA BOYS RELEASED: REG WENHAM FLYING BACK

  The town is celebrating again as newspapers report that Sergeant Reg Wenham, son of Mr and Mrs Wenham of Cowra, will be among the thirty-four released Australian prisoners soon to arrive at Rose Bay in Sydney. Mrs C R Bayliss of Liverpool Street has received a wire to say her husband, Lieutenant Clive Bayliss, who was captured in Borneo early in the war, is alive and well and returning to Cowra.

  ‘I wonder if we will hear the truth about what happened to Australian POWs,’ Banjo says. ‘And if any of our men had the same experience as Hiroshi, being protected.’

  ‘I don’t know, Banjo, but the war is over, people are coming home, we need to make a decision,’ Joan says, conscious every day that there is a person trapped in their yard. Since meeting Hiroshi, she has felt even more uncomfortable about the long days, weeks, months he has been forced to hide, even though they have all done their best to keep him nourished and comfortable.

  ‘Not yet,’ Banjo warns. ‘Let’s be sure we know what’s going to happen to him, and what’s going to happen to us.’ No one has talked about the consequences of them hiding Hiroshi. ‘You know we’re going to be punished for this, don’t you?’

  Banjo looks at Joan, worried. ‘It’s not like life isn’t punishment enough here, but I still think we did the right thing. You know that I thought that if the fella was trying to escape the camp, then he didn’t want to be there. That he wanted to be out.’

  ‘I know, love, and yes, we did the right thing, but you understand that Mary is in love, don’t you? This is not going to end well for our girl.’ Joan is at her husband’s side and gestures for him to get out of his seat before locking her arms around his neck. ‘You were right,’ she says, looking into his eyes. ‘You did the right thing. We all did the right thing. We just need to work out how this is going to end for him, and for us.’ She doesn’t say And for Mary, but she is a mother and has been watching her daughter’s moods and knows that when Hiroshi leaves there will be a hole in her daughter’s heart that will take a long time to fill.

  RETENTION OF POW CAMP: CHAMBER OF COMMERCE TO SUPPORT LOCAL COUNCIL

  Discussion is hot in the Williams’ hut on 25 September with the news that the Cowra Chamber of Commerce is talking about the post-war possibilities for the prisoner of war camp on the outskirts of the town. Mary has taken to reading the paper out loud again as she needs to be part of the yarns concerning Hiroshi’s future – and her own. Her mother is keeping a watchful eye on her, as she is showing true signs of being lovesick: she is eating less and is much more distracted.

  ‘“At last week’s meeting of the Chamber it was decided to support the Municipal Council in any plans it had for the retention of the camp area. Mr Donaldson said that the people of Cowra should consider a proposal whereby the camp buildings could be retained for peacetime activities. An up-to-date hospital has been erected in the are
a, and the whole property was serviced with electric light, water and sewerage. It would make an ideal camp for convalescent soldiers or the training of youth for farm work, he concluded.”’

  ‘I wouldn’t mind living up there,’ Sid says. ‘Seems more ideal than this place.’

  ‘Electricity, water and sewerage,’ Banjo says, ‘wouldn’t that be a nice change to our lives too?’

  Kevin is not so calm though, and slams his fist on the table. ‘How many times do I have to remind people that those prisoners lived better than we do? They had a bloody hospital service! A hospital! We can barely get treated in the public one in town.’ He storms out.

  Banjo gets up and watches his brother walk over to the railway gates. He hopes there’s not a boxing match on, because Kevin is ripe for a fight.

  ‘Let’s go for a walk,’ he says to the other men, and they follow him out the door.

  There’s mirris and goothas and lots of noise as the three men walk and roll cigarettes.

  ‘We need to tell King Billie about Hiroshi. We’re in a good position to do that now,’ Banjo says, then takes a long drag on his cigarette.

  ‘We can’t,’ Sid says. ‘We don’t have any say in this place, King Billie won’t take any mercy on us.’ He starts to panic when he sees they are walking in the direction of the Smiths’ house.

  Sid is not the only one panicking: Fred has been getting an earful from Marj for weeks now. And for his part in the ‘town secret’ he has had to tell her every single secret he has ever had, just to keep her happy and to stop her telling King Billie or anyone off the mission about Hiroshi. In exchange, Marj has demonstrated incredible restraint in her gossiping, which has surprised both herself and her husband – and everyone else, for that matter.

  ‘We’re going to tell King Billie that we found Hiroshi hiding,’ Banjo says matter-of-factly. ‘We’ll tell him we found him this morning and kept him a prisoner.’ Banjo has thought about how to approach the problem a lot but this is the first time he’s said anything. ‘We don’t have to tell him that he’s been here all that time. I know that will make him wild. I’m not stupid!’

  ‘Why do we have to tell him at all? Why don’t we just let the man walk back into town and get on with going back?’ Fred asks.

  ‘Yes, yes, that’s a much better idea,’ Sid says enthusiastically. ‘It takes any responsibility from us at all. Let’s just let him out and point him in the direction of town and make him promise he won’t say anything at all.’

  Banjo screws his face up at how simple the others think the situation will be to end. ‘Because we want him to stay here until they send him home. We’ve fed and sheltered him for over a year, he is one of our community even if no one knows him. Anyway, where’s he going to stay if we send him off? Back with all the other soldiers, who already think he is dead? If he wanted to be back there he would’ve left of his own accord before, don’t you think?’

  ‘Banjo’s right,’ Fred says. ‘He’s stayed put because he wanted to be here. We can’t just chuck him out now. We’ve looked after him this long, we can look after him a little while more.’

  The three men turn left and keep walking with five mirris trailing behind them, sniffing each other, and rolling in the dust.

  ‘But since when can we tell white people what they should do? We can’t tell King Billie not to put us in and he isn’t going to be happy about this.’ Sid is shaking his head. ‘Nup, I reckon he’ll get the cops straight away.’

  ‘Sid’s right, Banjo,’ Fred says, ‘we’re lucky if our own mob listen to us. And you know what happens if we disagree: straight up to the railway gates.’ Fred points in the direction of the homemade boxing arena. ‘You think King Billie will wanna fight this one out? He’s white, don’t forget, Banjo, and he’s the boss of us.’

  Sid stops in his tracks and three mirris sit at his feet and start scratching. He gently moves them away with his foot. ‘He makes the rules, Banjo. He tells us what to do, not the other way around. The Manager tells us what to do to make sure everyone lives by the rules. He’s going to be furious that we’ve harboured a POW as it is, let alone asking him to then protect us from punishment.’

  The three men have walked around their huts a few times, smoking cigarettes and making it look like they are just having some exercise. Banjo’s bad leg is starting to ache.

  ‘I don’t know why we just can’t wait a little while longer,’ Sid says.

  ‘Because that fella needs to go home. He’s been sad and lonely down there. I think we owe it to him to get him out as soon as we can. And now’s the time.’ Banjo is certain. ‘Follow me,’ he orders and turns towards his own hut. ‘We need to plan what we’re going to say. It needs to be foolproof.’

  18

  Banjo knocks on the door. Sid and Fred wait behind him, ready to follow his lead. Banjo hopes that being calm and rational will save them and Hiroshi from any more drama and, importantly, from ending up in the lockup. He knows, however, that everyday pleasantries go nowhere with King Billie.

  John Smith opens the door in his long johns.

  ‘Oh dear,’ Sid mutters, thinking they’ve got here too early and that’s going to make him even grumpier.

  ‘What d’ya want, Banjo?’ King Billie asks bluntly, then nods to Fred and Sid. ‘Men,’ he offers.

  ‘We need to talk to you about something,’ Banjo says, trying to keep the conversation as low key as possible. The less drama the better.

  ‘Who’s done what now?’ King Billie asks, always assuming the worst has happened or is in the process of happening.

  Banjo laughs nervously. ‘No one’s done anything,’ he says, ‘but we’ve found something that might interest you. We found something that could make you a bit famous.’

  Smith’s ego takes over and his disposition shifts to one of hospitality. ‘Right, well I guess you should come in then,’ he says, inviting the men into his home for the first time.

  Mary is in the Smiths’ kitchen washing dishes and going about her normal morning duties. She has no idea what her father has planned, or even that he is there. The men are hoping that whatever it is, it doesn’t end them all up in jailhouse.

  ‘Well? What have you found and what’s this idea you have?’ King Billie pushes the few strands of hair he has over his balding head from left to right. He knows that if he can be famous he can also get out of Erambie. ‘What’s going to make me famous?’

  Banjo starts confidently. ‘You know that breakout from the camp last year, with all the Japanese soldiers climbing over the fences? You know how some of them ran for miles and miles in all directions and there were stories of some of the escapees being seen at the hospital and around on farms? And of course there was Mrs Weir and the scones, we all heard about that, you would’ve heard about that too, Mr Smith?’

  Smith nods and squints with suspicion.

  ‘And you know all the reports said that two hundred and thirty-one soldiers died, and the others were captured over the next days. And of course they burnt down the huts and they had to then sleep in tents.’ Banjo keeps talking to lessen the chance of Smith butting in, but half of his brain is now thinking about Joan. He’s worried about spending time in the jailhouse and Joan being alone with the kids. And all of a sudden he has a vision of Kevin moving in and taking care of his family. He breaks into a sweat. He’s gone from calm to almost desperate within minutes and he can see that Smith is getting agitated because he’s taking so long.

  The other men are looking at Banjo with a mix of confusion and disbelief, and because Banjo is panicking, Sid strays from the plan and declares, ‘There’s a Jap here!’

  John Smith stands up, clearly angry. ‘What? Where? Here at Erambie?’ And he starts looking for his rifle, which everyone at Erambie knows about but thankfully has never seen. ‘Where is the yellow bastard?’ He’s so loud that Mary hears him and moves to the kitchen door where she listens but can’t see anything.

  ‘Yes, here.’ Sid points to ground. ‘He’s a soldier.
He must’ve escaped that night, or after, we don’t know, but he’s here.’ Sid is relieved he’s said it and repeats, ‘He’s here. We found him.’

  King Billie’s face looks ready to explode so Banjo acts quickly. ‘Actually, John, he found us.’ Banjo is back on plan and he nods to Fred and Sid. ‘He must’ve run here, while the others ran in other directions, and . . .’ Banjo pauses, taking a deep breath for dramatic effect.

  ‘And what?’ Smith asks.

  ‘And it looks like he’s been hiding here all this time. Found him in our outhouse this morning. Looks the worse for wear, of course. But he’s alive, so that’s a good thing.’

  ‘Why is it a good thing, are you mad?’ Smith says. ‘A living Jap is not a good thing.’

  The three Black men are shocked by Smith’s response and they’re worried he’ll find that shotgun and kill Hiroshi himself. Mary starts to shake.

  ‘Well, it’s good he’s alive because if you, as the Manager of Erambie, say you found him, and you were going to lead the way in the after-war effort, well I think the Guardian might be interested in doing a story on you.’

  John Smith sits down again. ‘Go on.’

  ‘Well, it’s meant to be peacetime now. What if you showed the way in terms of peace in this town, a kind of way forward for everyone?’ Banjo can see the harshness in King Billie’s face softening and knows that his strategy is working. ‘You could make a statement about how we have a duty now to return the Japanese prisoners – who are not really prisoners any more because the war is over – and return him in good condition, unharmed. Not like what we know they did to our POWs over there. This will just prove that we are better than the Japanese! Because we all know the Allies are better.’ Sid and Fred nod.

  Smith is squinting with suspicion at Banjo, not sure that his idea will work, but he doesn’t tell Banjo to stop talking.

  ‘A statement about how peace must start today, and you could use this one prisoner as an example of how to do it. You would be like the leader, a true leader.’