End of The War

A few months passed, and rumours came around that the war was finished with Japan as well as Germany. Then on August the Twenty Fifth 1945, we picked up leaflets which had been dropped to confirm our beliefs. The Nip guards must have known too because they allowed us to rest more than work. They sat down amongst us and tried to talk and show how much English they had learnt. The cries of "Speedo" had stopped, being replaced by "Yasume "(to rest). Finally, in that remote camp close to Uttaradit, near a small village or kampong, our officer-in-charge gave us the official confirmation speech to tell us that we were free and the war was over. He told us to keep calm and behave like good British soldiers and not to stray far from camp. We would be allowed to wander into the kampong for brief periods.

In our small party was at least one man belonging to the same battalion as me. His home town was West Bromwich and his name was Lance Jones, of Welsh descent. Naturally everyone called him Taffy. He and I paired off together for our first step out to freedom to wander around the kampong. We didn't have much money to spend but that didn't matter much because we were so happy to feel free again. The Thais were so friendly to us, even though we couldn't understand their language, their faces were all smiles and they cheered us up with kind actions. We must have looked a very pitiful and strange lot of human beings to them, being so scantily dressed, half starved and needing medical attention. They, like us, were so pleased to know that the war was over and the Nips would not harass them any more.

As we strolled into the kampong we came to a small bamboo kiosk where jewellery was on display. It wasn't the jewellery, but the delightful smiling faces of the two young Thai girls which attracted us. We stopped and to our great surprise and pleasure they both spoke perfect English. Speaking in high pitched, musical tones it was fascinating to hear them talk. They told us that both were students at Bangkok University, studying medicine, hoping to become doctors. One was called Sompom, and the other one's name was Som Sri. We exchanged addresses and promised to write when we arrived home in England. That short friendship was just what we needed to raise our spirits, after our long arduous battle against ill treatment and ill health that we suffered in captivity.

We waited patiently day after day, wondering when the announcement would come to tell us we would be moving back to a more realistic state of freedom. The leaflets which had been dropped on the 25th August told us to stay in camp, prepare nominal rolls of personnel, not to eat large quantities of food, fruit or vegetables at first, and gifts of food from local people should be cooked. Allied officers would take charge in a very short time. This advice was taken by me, but not everyone; I survived, thankfully.

On the Second of September our prayers were answered with the announcement that we should quickly prepare ourselves for a move. With shouts of joy and some doubt at such an incredible change of circumstances, we assembled with our few possessions. We left camp to go the short distance to the railway track, and waiting trucks, with the Japanese giving orders as usual. Waving cheerfully to the local Thais we climbed aboard, and moved slowly away, never to see the girls Sompom and Som Sri again.

We shook and bumped along for many miles, through what appeared then to be lovely countryside, the Nips still keeping quiet. We eventually slowed down to a halt and the Nips dismounted and walked forward. In a short time they came back with two Allied officers. We continued our journey until again we stopped. The first stage of our return home was at this place called Lopburi. We were ordered off the trucks and marched to the town where we were allocated our sleeping quarters in a large building like a school. After settling in we had a meal cooked by the local Thais, more rice of course. The Nip guards were still with us, when would we shake them off? At least they couldn't do anything to us anymore, not with two armed Allied officers. We were allowed to go out into the village afterwards for a few hours. My pal and I first watched some Thai men playing Russian Pool in a small games room for a while, and then nearby we met an English speaking young girl in a ladies clothes shop. She asked us to meet her other two sisters in the shop. The elder one who owned the shop was probably around thirty and didn't speak much English. Her name was Anong, so the shop was called Anong's Shop. The next youngest sister was a teacher in a kintergarden. Her name was Sripichita. The youngest one was about eighteen and a student. Both of these younger sisters were able to talk well in English, so we were able to catch up with the news, and tell them how pleased we were for them, and us, that the war was over. The youngest one, whose name was Nong-Yong said they would see us before we left.

We stayed no more than two nights in Lopburi before we continued our long journey home. The whole town seemed to be around to see us assemble in the centre of the village, but the three sisters found us to wish us a safe journey, and thank us for our short friendship. The youngest one brought her bike to carry my few possessions on it to the railway. It was goodbye to Lopburi on the next stage towards Bangkok, with a grand send off.

For the past three and a half years our travels in Thailand had been mostly on foot, when we were unfit to go anywhere let alone work afterwards. To be travelling by rail or road was a luxury to us.

By the late afternoon we found ourselves led into new surroundings in a camp near Bangkok called Pratchai. It was the Fourth of September when we set foot in this hospital camp, where we finally considered ourselves free, and in the caring hands of British medical staff who were geared up and keen to see us recover and be fit enough to continue home. The three day journey from Uttaradit had been about 270 miles. We had finally shaken off our guards; they left us unnoticed; what a relief that was. At last we were able to have a good clean up and dump any unwanted things. By far the best news was that we could write a letter to our family. This is a copy of my very first letter to my fiancée, Mary:

4th September '45

My Darling Sweetheart,

This is the letter I have been waiting for:- for the last 3 1/2 years of which I have been a prisoner of war. This opportunity has been given to us by our own officers, who are now completely in charge of us, and to whom we were handed over to this day at Pratchai camp, which is near to Bangkok.

Well my dearest, how are you feeling now? -- If you are as happy as I am, and feeling well, you must be looking really fine: Now it won't be long before both our dreams are realized! as you remarked in one of your letters. ---Hold tight darling I am on the way!

As you will have probably learnt, I and all of us here expect to be flown home all the way. This may be in a few days time, when things are a bit more organized. I am all in favour of this experience to add to my many experiences these last 3 1/2 years, which I will have more time to relate later on.

We heard the war was over on the 16th August, but the Nips did not leave us, and we were confined to our billets, until one day leaflets were dropped by a plane, telling us that the war was over, and we were free. That was about ten days ago. Since then, the Nips had very little to do with us, we took no notice of them and wandered into the village where the Thai people were most hospitable; it was almost unbelievable. On the second of September, we began our freedom journey, and from that day we have had a grand reception from the Thai people. They are very, very kind, and ask for our addresses, Thai students especially, who can talk some English.

Now we are in a large building, waiting for the next big journey. I don't think you need worry now. I think you can get the Christmas dinner ready for one more this year without a doubt. I will write more details of moving later, I just want to make you feel content, and satisfied that I am O.K. When or if we are given an address, I will let you know, so that you can reply.

Now I will say goodbye darling, all my love to you, and will see you soon.

Cheerio Sweetheart

Yours ever

Jack

xxxxx

xxxxxx

xxxxxxx

At Pratchai we had a few days rest, which gave us the chance to adjust to the more humane way of living. Some of the men were very sick and needed medical care, who might have to stay there awhile, but those fit enough to travel by air were selected and put on standby. I was lucky enough to be able to travel, so on the Eighth of September we were put into groups of about twenty five and given a group number. We had a bath or shower, a meal and then waited to be called. When the 'planes were ready for us, we were taken to the airfield by lorry to be in readiness for our alloted plane. The R.A.F. lads in charge at the airfield told us we would be flying to Rangoon, which to me was a bit of a disappointment, I was expecting to fly home, but at least it was a start. When our group was called we walked to the waiting 'plane. It was a Dakota, a small 'plane which had been used for bombing raids, not a luxury 'plane for us. Fitted with a type of twin bucket seats each side, and with small circular windows, it didn't impress us much. We boarded and waited for one of the most important days of our lives. With a great roar we took off and soared above the airfield, giving us a good view of the land where we had suffered so much hardship and misery. At least we had made it, there were many fellow prisoners who had died, and many who would still not make it. To have gone through hell for three and a half years was cruel, but to be cheated from survival at the last moment was really cruel luck.

As we climbed higher we shook as we negotiated turbulent weather. The aircrew were instructed to fly low because of our condition, but they had no alternative with the weather conditions. We felt the cold and shivered at that altitude although the medical orderly gave us blankets. The crew didn't seem to be affected at all in their shirt sleeves. After about three hours and seven hundred miles of flying we landed safely in Rangoon.

Here we were quickly whisked off in waiting ambulances to the Reception Centre into the care of British nurses and the W.V.S. We were soon seated at tables for a meal. This really was luxury, with chairs and tables the likes of which we hadn't seen for so long. To be waited on, and receive a genuine English meal, with a knife, fork and spoon, had us all excited. What a reception! The meal over, we were then taken to a Centre which was specially prepared for Allied prisoners to rehabilitate before the next step towards home. Another great welcome with cups of tea and cigarettes, and then to our beds for complete bliss, with a soft mattress, white sheets and pillows. We were then issued with clean new clothes, our own knife, fork and spoon, a new pay book and some money. Another meal was laid on before returning to our beds in the attendance of British nurses. Clean pyjamas, airmail letters and pencils awaited us, it was overwhelming. Was it all real, or a dream? It was indeed real, as we settled down to a comfortable night's sleep without bugs, lice, mosquitoes and all the other torments of prisoner of war life in Thailand.

The morning after, a medical officer came round with the duty nurse to examine us and prescribe treatments, as necessary. We had to say what illness, injury or sickness we had endured. Whether we would be allowed to move freely or be detained under strict observation depended upon the result of the assessment of our fitness. My worst days as a prisoner were now passed, so when we were permitted to go to the cinema I was quite thrilled. One afternoon, we saw our first film for at least four years, a lovely film called "Going My Way," starring Bing Crosby. This was only eight days after we started our freedom journey from Utteradit in Northern Thailand.

Copy of letter sent from Rangoon:

I am now well on my way back home dearest being in hospital for rest at Rangoon. Two days ago I flew by plane from Bangkok, and believe me honey I enjoyed every bit of the journey. It was like riding in a bus. We now have every comfort here, good food, plenty of cigarettes, picture shows in attendance of English nurses, a lovely bed, just like home. It's hardly believable, only a week ago I was living in Thailand and still eating rice. Now we're on European food, and it's grand. I saw my first film for four years this afternoon, it was "Going my way" by Bing Crosby. Well darling I shall sure be glad to see you, after being apart for so long. I hope to be with you next month and we will sure have a big reunion. Thank you so much for all the mail you have sent and which I have received. It has done good work in keeping the smile you always wish to see, but you most probably understand I have had to cast away many thoughts of you, and home because in circumstances it was not fitting. Nevertheless I am now thinking of you always and am longing to be with you and make you happy. We will soon make up for the time we have lost. When I get home I am going to ask you to get married, I am sure you are longing for the same, aren't you? I should like to get your answer on this. I still love you, even more than ever, and I know we shall be happy.

There is every good prospect to look forward to:- I am sure darling I have no photo of you here. I should love to see one again before I see you personally. Will you try and get one for me. There are many friends here, Jack Jones whom I have not seen for 18 months, and Horace Smith who lives in Old Hill, and many others. I have no more space now so I will say goodbye darling. Best wishes for a happy reunion, and lots and lots of love.

I remain

Yours devotedly

Jack

x x x x x x x x

The next stage of our long journey back home came into reality after several more days of careful nursing. We were given a choice of going home the short way or the long way. The short way was by boat to Ceylon, now Sri Lanka, then through the Suez Canal and Mediterranean back to England. The long way was south to Australia to recuperate, before the journey homewards. For some it had to be the long way, for me it was the short, and quickest, way.

The embarkation day came. We were driven down to the docks where our ship the S.S. Orduna was waiting. We boarded and were shown to our cabins, which were to be our floating homes for the next few weeks. We were given a chance to write home again, which we hoped would convey back to our families our love and hopes for the future.

We set sail westwards into the Indian Ocean, which we had navigated four years ago on the outward journey to Singapore to be rushed into combat and capitulation. I remembered it was the Indian Ocean where I threw my harmonica overboard after playing it often and blowing it out. There was more good food, relaxation, exercise and every comfort as we made steady progress in warm weather.

Eventually we came into port in Colombo, where we were allowed ashore. This was another different but pleasant experience where I was able to walk around the bazaars to barter and purchase a ruby necklace for Mary, and an ebony carving of an elephant, sandwiched by a matchbox holder and an ashtray, on an ebony stand with ivory decoration. Although the stop at Columbo was a short one, there was not much more to recall, as we couldn't go far away from the ship. In a day or two we set sail to enjoy again the life of luxury, by comparison to what we had been living. Many had by now put on some weight, now that the food was more like good food cooked tastily. The fresh air, too, was a tonic to us after experiencing stinking vegetation and rotten flesh in the ulcer huts. Out on deck we could rest and enjoy the sunshine, instead of slaving in hot sunshine and humid air. We also had a chance to write home again.

Sailing on into the Gulf of Aden, we made a brief call at Aden, before continuing through the Red Sea to Suez. There we waited for the pilot to navigate us through the Canal. That was a memorable experience in many ways. The war hadn't been over two months; it was the Eighth of October when we arrived at Suez. The canal had been blocked off from any shipping previously by sunken ships, but at that time a channel had been made to enable some ships to pass. There were still some wrecks visible, as we progressed very slowly into some very narrow parts of the Canal. Everyone was on deck to see the ship being carefully navigated by the very skilled Egyptian pilot. To our great relief we reached the northern end at Port Said safely, and without a bump.

After the pilot had gone ashore, we sailed on to the glorious calm of the beautiful blue Mediterranean Sea. It was quite a contrasting experience to be stretched out on deck enjoying the sunshine each day, with the boat moving along steadily like a swan on a lake. To cast our minds back to October 1941 when we crossed the Atlantic, when the waves were enormous, and the boat dropped and rose forty feet, was a complete contrast.

When we were issued with the normal warm clothing, battledress tunic and trousers, one day, it gave us a reminder that we should soon prepare ourselves for colder weather. Sailing then to the Bay of Biscay, cooler strong winds and choppy seas, did start us counting the days to when we would be back home. The order came for us to change from tropical kit to our new issue, and then we were given an estimate of the day of arrival back in Liverpool. As we arrived near the mouth of the Mersey other boats signalled a welcome home with flags and hooters. Then it seemed ages before we could actually dock and tie up.

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