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In and Out of Changi

Eventually we reached Changi prison camp, worn out, tired and starving. The camp was packed by the time our company had arrived, so we had to settle for anything. A meal of rice and watery soup was ready for us quite quickly as the cooks had been informed of our imminent arrival by the truck drivers who had stopped to pick up the wounded. Our cooks, being away from the front line, were taken to Changi after capitulation. After our meal, and a drink of tea without milk or sugar, we felt better. Next we managed to get a wash and clean up, before retiring to our hut for a well earned rest. Needless to say we slept that night whatever the discomfort was, sleeping on bamboo slats.

It was a great relief to be able to relax the next day with regular meals, even if it was mainly rice. The Japs didn't bother us for a while. They placed the responsibility on our own junior officers, who were then with us, for good order and discipline. It was back to the parade ground again.

Each morning and evening we were lined up for roll-call. Instead of forming in threes, as we did in the British army, we now had to form fives as did the Japanese army, probably because they couldn't count in threes. This didn't make it any easier for the Japs to count us. Often we had to wait for several recounts before we were dismissed. After roll call and breakfast of rice and sugar, our own N.C.O.s detailed us for jobs of administration in our area. There were lots of things to do to improve our way of living, especially in the Singapore climate with flies about. When the daily jobs were finished there was time to wander around the camp to find out who had survived. The wounded and the worst of the sick personnel were in the adjoining Roberts Hospital, but this was grossly overcrowded. The minor injured or sick could attend sick parade, to receive whatever treatments were available. The change in diet affected many men, some with sores, some with upset stomachs, and some soon showed signs of vitamin deficiency. The result was a great struggle for survival and some couldn't make it. The cemetery started at Changi, soon enlarged with three or four funerals a day.

It was at Changi where we saw huge pill boxes and guns pointing out to sea. They were the only defences installed to stop the invader. Naturally, as they pointed out to sea in a fixed position, they never fired a shot in anger. The Japs came from the opposite direction. It was at Changi, too, that I first saw coconut trees, but they were soon stripped and restricted by, and for, the Japs. Occasionally in the evenings, when we were more organised, someone would give a lecture, or we would have a debate. One such lecture I remember was "Should sex be taught in schools?" This, I think, was the forerunner of a never ending debate. Permission was given to make a stage and put on shows, and very soon the talented ones among us were able to form a good concert party. Musicians found instruments, or made them, to provide the accompanying music. The result was a top class show which relieved the boredom for a while. Rumours of the progress of the war spread around at these gatherings, but at that stage it was not very cheery.

It was at Changi, three weeks after Singapore surrendered that I had my first birthday in captivity. Who would have thought that my birthday treat was little more than a helping of boiled rice? In fact the day was just another boring, depressing day with only one thought: "How long were we to be kept prisoners of war, and could we, by some miracle, be freed to get out of this miserable experience?" The prophets in the camp gave us high hopes at times, but each prediction came to nothing. After dark, lying on bamboo slats, trying to get some rest was difficult enough, but with the torment of mosquitoes, lice and the croaking bullfrogs it was worse. Little did we know then that things were going to get much worse.

After many weeks we heard that some of us would be moving. Groups of one hundred or so were selected with intervals in between each group. We heard that they were going to Singapore to clean up.

Our turn came sometime in May, I think. We were to march to Singapore, a distance of some twenty miles. The fittest were selected, so this time we didn't have to support the sick. Our shoes were getting a bit worn now, but we made it, tired, exhausted, gasping for a drink and hungry. After walking for several hours we arrived at the camp called River Valley Road Camp. Lining up in fives for the inevitable roll-call, we waited for ages while we were counted several times to assure the new guards that no-one had escaped. Then a further wait while the officers in charge were given orders, and we were allotted our space in a hut.

The huts were about one hundred metres long by six metres wide, with a two metre gangway between two-tier platforms, all constructed with bamboo. The roof was formed with atap leaves folded over a cane to make a strip a few feet long. These were laid in tile fashion to overlap. The only thing to say in favour of them was that in daytime they provided shade, as we were to find out, but when it rained it was not very waterproof. My bed space was on the top tier, gained by straight bamboo ladders every four or five metres apart.

Very soon after settling in, the sound of mess tins heralded the arrival of a meal. It was usual to queue at the end of each hut for a ladle of rice, a smaller one of vegetable water with maybe a floating piece of meat, and a mug of slightly sweetened tea with no milk. This was the main meal. The morning breakfast of rice and a teaspoon of sugar was at the break of day, to prepare us for roll-call at eight-thirty. After roll call we were marched off to work. We worked until about five, with an hours break approximately, then marched back, had a wash, a meal and then roll-call again at about seven in the evening. For this the Japs paid the privates ten cents a day, so every ten days we received a dollar. This enabled us to buy a few eggs or bananas.

The camp had a dirty looking stream on the one side, which was a breeding ground for mosquitoes. On the opposite side was the road after which the camp was named. Facing us on that road was a big Chinese house with a balcony. They would sit there watching us, but the Jap guards had eyes on them too, in case any messages were passed.

The Japs now decided that we should learn some basic Japanese, so on roll-call we had to call out their equivalent to our numbers which went: Itchi, Nee, San, See, Go, Rocko, Sitchi, Hatchi, Cou, Jou. Our own sergeant major would quickly count beforehand, and would tell the last man what to shout. So long as the first row counted correctly, the numbers counted after Jou, for ten, the remainder shouted "Jack, Queen, King, Ace" or anything, as long as the last man shouted correctly as informed. We thought it was highly amusing, and the Japs seemed satisfied. The equivalent for attention, number, salute to the right, and left, stand at ease, or rest, followed. As we marched to work, which was about one and a half miles away, we were now able to salute Jap officers along the road, at the order shouted by the proud Japanese sergeant in charge. Some of the salutes were not very complimentary!

We were separated into working parties according to the trades or jobs we could do. The cooks in normal army life stayed in camp to prepare meals, often working in very poor conditions, with little equipment, and not much to cook but rice. They tried to do their best, I am sure, but the cry often went up: "Change the cooks!" The cooks were changed often, but the result was very much the same. However, a scheme was arranged for deductions from pay to buy extras to make the food more tasty and satisfying. The extras though were only enough to make any difference to one meal a day, so we were always hungry.

I was selected into the group of workers for carpenters and other building workers. Our first job was to construct timber frames to form the sides for several warehouses and then roof trusses and erect them. Then finally we put on the roof purlins for others to finish off. This was quite a long job and on a good site. The Jap engineers worked with us, but it was difficult for us to understand sometimes, what was required of us. We soon learnt when we had gone wrong when they shouted "Dami Dami", meaning no good, followed by swear words "Canaro, Buggaro." Many times we saw somebody being hit with whatever was at hand. The punishment very often went too far for lack of understanding. I remember a particular prisoner made to hold a heavy piece of wood above his head with both arms stretched. As he lowered his arms, when he couldn't hold it any longer, he was hit hard on his arms, back, or face. After a while, our own officer in charge tried to make a protest to the two Jap privates who seemed to be enjoying the suffering. They promptly took the piece of heavy wood off the prisoner and made the officer do the same. Rank meant nothing as far as prisoners were concerned to the Japs. Sometimes as we marched to work along the tree lined road, we would see Chinese men or women tied with their hands behind the trees. The words in English above their heads said "Robber", "Thief" or other crimes committed. This was plainly for us to take notice. It was quite a relief to get back to camp each day, from the fear of the unpredictable, mad fits of temper which some guards were capable of.

After work and evening meal, a well earned rest, and evening Roll-call (Tenko), we occupied our spare time in many ways. A few of my platoon were together in the hut, so we played card games together. A few of us passed the time away drawing, either freehand or technical. With the help of a twelve inch ruler which I had acquired, I drew a plan of a bungalow to scale on a piece of paper from an exercise book. This took many hours to do, which I thought might be the house of my dreams in the unpredictable future; a most interesting pastime, and I was fortunate to preserve it and bring it home on release. Other pastimes arranged for evenings were lectures and educational classes. I attended lectures and a maths class. Language classes were very popular. Up to now our morale was high, though the food was poor and the work hard. Every tenth working day we had a day in camp. Everyone was busy with the task of washing clothes, and blanket, or whatever we were fortunate enough to keep. Then the main task of the day was to take off the bamboo slats from your bed space, which was infected with bugs and lice. A fire was made close to the hut where everyone passed the slats through the flames, to eliminate the pests. A better night's sleep was had the following night.

The poor food and conditions were the main reason for many skin complaints, made much worse by the irritating bugs and lice. I developed ringworms on my legs and backside. When I couldn't stand the irritation any longer I reported to the medical officer. Medical supplies were very limited, so alternative measures were tried. My ringworms were dabbed with a liquid, which tingled and burnt so badly that I ran all around the hut before I stopped. I learnt afterwards that it was battery acid, but I was glad to have some treatment to check the ringworm, and it actually worked.

Our first chance to send a message home came while we were at this camp, almost six months after being a prisoner of war. It was a printed card and very brief, with space for a name only for us to put on. It read: "I am well / I am ill / I am in hospital.- Please see that ................... is taken care of." This was a waste of time anyway, because none were received back home to my knowledge. There seemed to be no point in thinking about home at this stage. We were prisoners of war, and the war didn't seem to be going in our favour. The news we did get gave us very little hope of being freed at all. I remember thinking that the only thing to do was to forget home altogether, and accept the fact that we were there, and that was our life and home. This, I think, helped me to survive, because everything seemed much better than it actually was, even the food seemed more satisfying.

The daily routine changed very little, except that more men were sick with malaria, dysentery, and malnutrition. Consequently the workforce was smaller, but the tasks set each day greater. The weather in Singapore, incidentally, is more or less the same the whole year, with daytime temperatures in the nineties. At any time in the day though, falling out of the clouds which minutes ago were not there, a heavy torrent of rain would come, followed by a fine rainbow. In the space of a few minutes, the blue skies would return with the hot sun, making steam rise up to form a sticky heat. This would be tolerable in normal conditions, but it didn't make good working conditions for us. Tempers frayed on both sides, but as underdogs we were at the mercy of the Jap guards, who took delight in showing each other how to punish anyone, on the slightest excuse. I must say, I was lucky up to this point.

After the warehouses were finished, I was put in a party to build a bridge over the river which ran close by. The first job was to get quite long and heavy steel girders from one side to the other, to rest on bases formed in concrete. With no crane or any other mechanical aid, we thought the Japs must be mad, but they had other ideas. We were the substitute for cranes. With a lot of shouting in language we couldn't understand, the girders were moved by pushing on rollers on the ground. The first one moved at right angles to the river with one end, up to the nearside bank. The second one moved slowly on rollers in direct line behind it. Then the front end lifted onto a roller on the back end of the first girder. Pushing and moving rollers along the girder as they came out from behind. The second girder manoeuvred to cantilever over the first. A third girder rolled into position to follow the previous procedure. This, when positioned to cantilever the second girder, and far enough to span the river, was pushed off to drop close to its final position. When one was over the same procedure followed, and gradually the bridge took shape, but with much hard work.

We were taken one day to a place where all sorts of looted clothing was stored. Each one of us was allowed to pick up two or three items in turn. I chose a pair of swimming trunks and a blanket. These I took care of and kept until my release. Apart from the trunks, the only shirt I had was ripped up for loin cloths, eventually.

In the hut were many lads from the same unit, and indeed whose homes were close to mine. It was easy to detect your own dialect amongst the rest. In our hut, in a bedspace below me, was Ronald Searle. He did a lot of drawings, and at times could be seen drawing guard's portraits, while the Japs sat innocently on the bed space opposite. He was to become famous as an author and for his illustrations in books, after the war. Another Australian prisoner was Russell Braddon who was in a nearby hut, and was also an author.

With most of the clearing up and tasks in Singapore completed, the working parties were moved back to Changi. My party's turn to move back was among the first, and with mixed fortunes. We had been lucky to be moved from Changi for work in Singapore, according to the stories we heard when we got back. The Japs had demanded that all prisoners signed a declaration not to escape. Changi prisoners agreed not to sign. They were given a deadline to sign, but still refused, so they were made to march to Selarang Barracks. Built to accommodate approximately one thousand, nearly eighteen times that number were crammed in, on meagre rations and no sanitary arrangements. The stories we heard of this were horrible, and many did not survive. They had no alternative but to sign when the Japs threatened to move the sick and dying into the camp as well. Our officers had heard of this at River Valley Camp so we were recommended to sign.

The food back at Changi seemed worse than before and resulted in many skin complaints. In fact, I think everyone suffered from at least one skin disorder as a result of bad diet and lack of basic essentials. There were more deaths, occurring unnecessarily through lack of medicines. Operations were performed in primitive ways, but with outstanding skill, by the medical officers.

It was about this time, some eight months after surrender that we heard the news of Red Cross parcels being brought into camp. The one rumour we were longing to be true, materialized when we were issued with a few tins of fruit, corned beef, milk and cigarettes each. The bulk of the Red Cross food was given in to the cookhouse to improve meals, which it undoubtedly did. My share was very carefully kept until later and rationed out and enjoyed as a real luxury. I was also lucky to be selected to be in need of a new pair of boots and a bush hat, as supplies were limited. These I also guarded with great care. We were very grateful for this South African Red Cross supply, which also included medicines for the doctors and surgeons.

The news and rumours at this time were not good at all, but our officers in charge insisted on army discipline. It seemed so useless to drill and salute as before, when we were all prisoners. Without it though, we realised life would have been much worse. Good hygiene, where possible, was insisted upon, and regular inspections of huts, cookhouses, and latrines took place. There was some thieving of other's possessions, which was soon dealt with. Little did we realize it was to help us in the three years to follow to keep our self respect, and hope for a chance to survive.

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