by Peter Brune
Things had gone hard with them with the Japanese ‘treatment’ and being under the Dutch command as they had no control of their work figures and always received the thin end from the Dutchies; they had had little medical attention as it was centered mainly on the Indonesians and above all they had no representation on the rations and in the kitchens and consequently had to take what they were given. Alf Cough had never received any of the Changi funds nor stores and had little canteen contact, and depended wholly on what he was given by the Dutch.8
And that wasn’t much.
One of Newton’s great qualities as a Railway commander was his ability to not only rort the system for the benefit of his ‘U’ Battalion men, but where possible, for others. ‘Roaring Reggie’ ‘arranged’, as he called it, for Cough to make contact with the Japanese commander—a privilege denied Cough by the Dutch CO—and promptly organised a ‘V’ Battalion carrying party to journey down to Rin Tin where Newton would give them ‘what we could’ and further arranged for Boon Pong to land supplies at Kewie.9 Newton lost contact with Cough after this visit, but the meeting raises a number of interesting Railway issues. First, it seems clear that the funds taken from Changi by force commanders, whilst difficult to administer after battalions became dispersed, were at times used for questionable, and on some occasions, immoral purposes. Second, Cough’s plight displays the frequent tendency of national groups—and often battalions—to adopt a self-centered approach to the limited money, food supplies and drugs that made their way along the River Kwai and, in the case of foodstuffs, through local sources.
Third, the incident is a vivid illustration of the fact that mortality rates on the Railway are misleading when given per force rather than by battalion. Whilst a POW’s chances of survival on the Railway were influenced by such factors as his geographical location, whether or not he succumbed to any number of diseases, and his treatment by the Japanese, the predominant survival factor was his shoko, his unit commander. When this officer worked efficiently for, and together with the RMO, his chances significantly increased.
On 5 April 1944, ‘U’ Battalion was entrained to Tamuang (about eleven kilometres south of Kanchanaburi) and arrived there on the 6th. Eight days later Captain Gaden and the unit’s hospital sick arrived from Chungkai. On 10 June Newton was informed that ‘all fit men would go to Japan from the Thailand area and there would be three forces of 2500 each’.10 The Japanese had originally planned that Varley would command the first, Newton the second and Lieutenant-Colonel McEachern the third. It later transpired that McEachern’s group did not make the trip—partly due to the US Navy’s submarine presence—and spent their remaining time in captivity in Thailand.
Newton left Captain Keith Westbrook (2/19th Battalion and ‘U’ Battalion) in charge of those members of his unit who were to be left behind in Thailand and took Captains Hinder and Parker as his RMOs. Ever even-handed with his funds, he gave Westbrook his proportion and then determined how best to use the remaining $942. As the currency would be of no value in Japan, Newton made cash purchases of cigarettes with the idea of selling them in Singapore to facilitate food supplements both there and during the voyage to Japan. The cigarettes were duly bought—560 cartons—and spread amongst the men for secure passage to Singapore. Ever the astute businessman, Newton was ‘sure we could make some contact with Chinese traders in Singapore particularly as The Tiger was going with us and he would be looking for his rake-off ’.11
Newton Force arrived in Singapore by train on 26 June 1944 and were sent to River Valley Road camp. Although three-quarters of the cigarettes were sold for an impressive threefold profit, the acute shortage of goods for sale and highly inflated prices made the purchasing of goods difficult. No matter. Newton managed to buy coconuts and peanuts for his men, and when still faced with the problem of excess money and few goods, he approached the Tiger and 56 pounds of sun-dried fish and 24 pounds of fish paste were procured (with, undoubtedly, a cut going to the Tiger).12 This transaction would mark the end of ‘business’ for Newton. Japan would offer no such chances. Newton Force (2250 men) departed in two ships from Singapore on 1 July 1944 and after stops in Borneo, the Philippines and Formosa arrived at Moji, Japan on 8 September. There would be no cohesion of units in Japan. Newton’s ‘U’ Battalion was dispersed, and his Japan Party would henceforth consist of men from the 2/19th, the 2/3rd Machine Gun Battalion and a number of sailors from the Perth.
We have recorded that the POWs of ‘F’ and ‘H’ Forces were not under the command of the Thailand Japanese Railway administration, and as such were to be returned to Changi after the completion of the line. Nieke was used as a concentration point for ‘F’ Force pending a Railway trip to Kanchanaburi, which was to be followed by either a train or ship journey back to Singapore. As was the case with other forces, the completion of the Railway came too late for some—particularly a number of patients from Tanbaya Hospital.
Tanbaya had been a belated response from the Japanese in late July 1943 for an ‘F’ Force hospital, which was to be situated in Burma at the then deserted 50 Kilo camp—50 kilometres from the northern end of the Railway at Thanbyuzayat. Major Bruce Hunt had been a passionate advocate for such a hospital, which the Japanese ruled could house up to 2000 patients, but was to be occupied only by POWs who had permanent disabilities, or were unlikely to recover within two months for heavy work.
Captain Fred Stahl, 8th Division Signals, was the Tanbaya Hospital adjutant. He would later recall that upon arrival in early August as a member of the advanced party, the camp ‘inspired no pleasure’.13 As the rain continued to fall, and in the ‘complete absence of drains’, the area was a sea of mud upon which stood huts in very poor condition; there were no initial cooking facilities; few tools; the operating ‘theatre’ was a small bamboo hut with a bamboo operating table; and the hospital was destined to have no chaplain at any time during its existence.
Between 8 August and 7 September 1943, eighteen parties of British and Australian patients arrived at Tanbaya.14 The fact that its patients were exceedingly ill before their departure caused them to arrive at the hospital in a deplorable condition. Stahl recorded that many of them were in ‘their final days of life, with absolutely no hope of survival’, while a number were found dead on arrival.15 The total Tanbaya intake of patients was 1924 and of those 661 died by 24 November 1943.16
Religious or spiritual matters aside, the absence of a chaplain would seem innocuous. But on 13 August, only days after their arrival, two English soldiers died. Unable to have graves dug because of an absence of fit men, Captain Fred Stahl had to resort to cremating the dead. He would later recall:
. . . before leaving Shimo Sonkrai [sic] I had obtained from the Anglican Chaplain a copy of a brief funeral service. I co-opted Warrant Officer John Kerr to assist me and together we built a funeral pyre . . . the two bodies were laid on the top of the pile of wood and bamboos and the fire was lit . . .
I was walking past the fire a little later with our surgeon Frank Cahill, when Frank suddenly exclaimed, ‘My God, he’s waving to us.’ It was almost literally true. Quite inexperienced in the art of cremation we had put the bodies on the pyre face-up, and, no doubt caused by the contraction of the sinews and tendons, one of the dead bodies had taken a sitting position and as we passed one arm slowly rose. We learned from experience and in all subsequent cremations the bodies were laid face-down.17
Upon arrival at Tanbaya, Stahl could not have contemplated that he would preside over as many as nineteen cremations a day, and a total of 661 in just over three months.
. . . as can be imagined it was a heartbreaking task. I imagine that an Undertaker’s work becomes quite impersonal, for he deals in the main, with unknown bodies. For me, however, the situation was quite different. Each man had been a comrade in arms, many were lads from my own Unit, quite a few were personal friends.18
In an appendix to the War Diary, Hunt would record that it was hoped that in a hospital camp, with Japanese assurances
of no work, a better diet and the provision of necessary drugs and dressings, Tanbaya might be the ‘means of saving hundreds of lives’.19 He cited the failure of the hospital to achieve this objective as being caused by the advanced state of disease among many patients (particularly from the British Number 2 Camp at Songkurai); the poor nutrition of a number of patients who had arrived from camps where some of the medical officers had not insisted upon the patients receiving ‘the full ration’; the effects of the journey from the working camps to Tanbaya; an acute shortage of drugs; and the fact that malaria ‘of a particularly severe type was endemic’.20
But there was another critical issue in Tanbaya’s failure as a force base hospital—and whether Hunt was aware of it would seem doubtful. Given Tanbaya’s geographical isolation, and further, its distance from the River Kwai and its barge supply and the ‘V’ Organisation, supplies of extra foodstuffs and limited drugs were non-existent. Other hospitals and camps were more fortunate: Chungkai would receive over 72 000 ticals of assistance; Tarakan some 42 000 ticals; Kanburi 17 000; Tonchan 14 000; Tarsau 35 000; and, even allowing for our already cited ‘Up-River Camps’ (17 000 ticals), Tanbaya therefore stood as an outpost of seclusion, despair and a horrendous mortality rate.21 And to compound this cruel disadvantage, Captain Fred Stahl noted a further impediment to Tanbaya’s supply:
We knew from past experience that a portion of our rations always disappeared en route from source of supply and ultimate delivery to us . . . with food in short supply for the civilian population it was easy for the Japs to line their pockets at the expense of the P.O.W.
Naturally the Japanese wished to keep this blackmarket trading with the Burmese natives as their own private lurk, and they took a very dim view of any effort by the P.O.W. to trade with the civilian population.22
Despite those severe conditions at Tanbaya—preceded by the same conditions at ‘F’ Force work camps—Major Bruce Hunt not only established a magnificent reputation for his medical expertise, but also for his innovative administration. Throughout those camps, he instigated a highly efficient system of ‘wardmastering’. By appointing an officer or a NCO as a ward-master, ‘firewood, fires, hot water and cold boiled water’23 were provided, hygiene standards were rigidly enforced and the limited number of trained orderlies were supplemented by volunteers to maintain suitable standards of nursing and care. In all this, it should be stated that the orderlies, across all forces, were among the unsung heroes of the Thai–Burma Railway. They worked long hours; were given limited training on the job; exposed themselves continually to the disease and plight of those whom they nursed (particularly during outbreaks of cholera); and, inevitably, some of them paid the ultimate price for their selflessness and devotion.
The reader will recall the service of Captain Alf Menz, 8th Division Provost Company, during the final stages of the fight for Singapore and in Changi. After the completion of the Railway, when the majority of POWs from ‘F’ Force arrived by rail at Kanchanaburi, Menz soon joined them. His Railway experience is illuminating. Menz had been a member of ‘F’ Force and had marched north with it. His diary:
12 May 43:
Here I am in a Dutch Hospital . . . We have been marching 12 to 15 miles almost every night since leaving Bampong and it has been mighty tough too, very dark & wet roads. Both my heels have blistered and are very bad and my left knee had to be opened. I hope I’m not here too long, too much dysentery. All the others have gone on, I wonder if I will catch them up again.
4 June 43:
At last we get away from Kinsayok and travel down river by barge & reach Tarso [sic ‘Tarsau’] where we stay over night, its [sic] a grim show, some of the 40 of the party are in a terrible state. I have to carry one chap on my back and at the end of a mile he gets heavy. A recent attack of fever has weakened me.
5 June 43:
Left Tarso with 53 sick, some very bad, kept in rain for 3 hours and again for 1½ hours arrived CHUNKAI [sic ‘Chungkai’] at 0200 hours, bedded down in scabies hut. I am feeling done, have carried one man pick-a-back for miles through mud, he is also feeling very sore.
29 June 43:
Today I have taken over control of the Camp Police and am rated Provost Marshal under Lt. Col. Outram have 30 police (English) and another officer Colin Burn also a Dutch Officer and Sgt.24
We now turn to a brief examination of the base camps. In his book The Thailand–Burma Railway, 1942–1946: Documents and Selected Writings, Paul H. Kratoska has stated that although there were numerous acts of selfless behaviour in these camps, there was also ‘a great deal of self-serving behaviour, and incidents of theft by individuals and organised gangs’.25 He also states that, driven by hunger, some individuals stole from their comrades and officers, while ‘several gangs . . . stole on an organised basis, and they had Thai agents who would buy anything that they had managed to collect’.26 Further, he stated that there was a market for drugs and clothing which was stolen in Chungkai and sold to the Thais. All this is essentially true, except for one critical point. As we have chronicled a number of times, to lay the blame purely on the ORs is quite simply unfair. Captain Alf Menz, as Chungkai’s Provost Marshal, had a different story to tell:
31 July 43:
A big typewriter has been stolen from the Q.M. store and we are very busy trying to locate it. I have had two sleepless nights questioning possible suspects. A reward of 50 ticals is offered for its recovery.
21 August 43:
Last night we caught some of the ‘dead-legs’ who we have been after for some time, we got them with the goods on them, five of ’em. Drugs & clothing & Hyperdemic Syringes was their line. Maybe I can get a couple of officers Court-Marshalled [sic] over it, they are guilty.
15 September 43:
Last night I got the No 1 criminal of the camp, a Dutch soldier named _______, have been after him for a long time. Got him for selling blankets clothing etc to the value of $197.50 to the Thais, it was only four days ago that he swore to me that he was not dealing in blankets or clothes any more.
Also got a lot more Dutch & British for selling to him. Am after 3 Aussies for the same thing.27
Not only were officers involved in such crimes, it seems that a number became actively involved in obstructing Menz’s investigations. His diary, 17 September 1943:
There always seems to be someone trying to get the better of the police, people who should know better. Officers of Field Rank making allegations about 3rd degree over _________ [the Dutchman’s] case, even if I had he would have deserved it. The more I see of some of these British officers the more remarkable I think it will be if we win this war, surely to goodness they can’t all be like some of the collection we have in this camp.28
In fairness, it should be stated that Menz had not been present at Lower Songkurai or Takanun during ‘F’ Force’s time at those locations, and therefore had not witnessed the behaviour of a number of Australian officers. He was later moved to Kanchanaburi pending the final concentration of ‘F’ Force to that camp.
After their slavery on the Railway, Kanchanaburi was heaven for the men of ‘F’ Force. Stan Arneil, 2/30th Battalion, recorded that after arriving there on 23 November 1943, and then being sent to the hospital the following day with beriberi, he found that ‘a wonderful vegetable stew, thick with delicious celery and pumpkin’ was like a ‘home away from home’.29 The following day he and a mate spent the equivalent of $1.50 on brown sugar, peanuts and four eggs to supplement their ‘special diet’. Arneil was in a new world. ‘Fancy special diets for beri beri! Though my feet are swollen like footballs, they would not be noticed up north.’30 Captain Adrian Curlewis of Pond’s ‘F’ Force party arrived at Kanchanaburi on 21 November 1943 and was served an omelette made by a mate. The following day he noted ‘parties still pouring in by every train’.31 On 25 November, Curlewis recorded that there were still ‘eggs of all kinds—nine for the day. Party of 1000 to move at any time.’32 A number of men would not be in the 1000-strong party to ‘
move at any time’. The sick, under the care of Major Bruce Hunt (himself ill with acute cardiac beriberi), were destined to remain there until April 1944, while Captains Ben Barnett and Fred Stahl also remained as quartermaster and registrar respectively.
On 2 December 1943, the first 500 of the 1000 fittest men were sent to Bangkok to be returned to Singapore by ship. Lieutenant-Colonel Kappe led them.33 We now come to more controversy.
Signalman Keith ‘Curly’ Meakin, (8th Division Signals) has been quoted as claiming that after arriving at Bangkok, the Japanese permitted the party to purchase goods. On 10 December 1943, as the men began boarding a barge for transportation to a ship, Kappe was ordered to report to the Japanese. In his absence, his cases were taken on board the barge and immediately rifled by the men. Cartons of Virginia cigarettes, tinned fish and other tinned foodstuffs were found. Signalman Meakin:
. . . when it [the vessel] was underway Lt.Col. Kappe ordered officers to conduct a thorough search for his boxes—nothing was found. He ordered a parade and criticised the men for stealing the food. There are many versions of what he was reported to have said, the most common account was that he stood up on the bridge, took off his shirt (displaying his good healthy condition) and offered to fight the culprits, he was jeered and ‘booed’ by the men who, by this time, were all smoking the Virginia cigarettes and the aroma was wafting past Kappe as he said, ‘You fools! It was your money I used to purchase that food for you to have on the voyage back to Singapore!’ and he was given more boos.34