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The World War 2 Japanese Prison Diaries of
Alexander John James
Into Captivity
Changi
“After weeks of anxious and steadfast watching, you have taken your turn in the fighting on Singapore Island. Some of you have previously done your part most gallantly on the mainland. Throughout the operations on Singapore Island I can only thank you for your gallant efforts to stem the attack. You have had little support from the air; you have been outnumbered and outgunned.
Notwithstanding this you have borne yourselves magnificently. Remember this, in your hour of trial – you have done your part, your best, and you have no need to blame yourselves. Keep your spirits up – good times will come again.
(Signed)
F. Keith Simmonds, Major General,
Commander Southern Area
This message, sent out to all units that were still organized on the afternoon of February 15th, broke the news that the last outpost of Malaya, the “island fortress” of Singapore, had fallen, and was unconditionally surrendered to the Japanese Commander-in-Chief.
“Fire will cease at 20:30 hrs. tonight 15/16 Feb. Troops will remain in present positions and will NOT repeat NOT move without permission from this H.Q. Arms will be collected as far as possible in unit areas. There will NOT repeat NOT be any destruction of arms, equipment, maps or records.”
At that time some seventy or eighty thousand British, Australian, and Indian troops were in and around the city. Organization and discipline was almost non-existent; looting, mostly by Asiatics, was prodigious; many dead still lay in the streets where they had fallen; fires blazed unattended, and fresh fires broke out adding to the pall of smoke that overhung the whole area. Many streets were blocked by smoking piles of rubble that had been buildings. Heaps of blackened and twisted scrap iron that had been vehicles, lay indiscriminately scattered by bomb blast, and also here and there in rows by the curbside, where units had deliberately fired their M. T. (military transport). All this with the gaping craters, and the piles of smashed glass, told the grim tale of constant shelling and bombing to which the city had been subjected during the final stages of the campaign. Coupled with the bitter disappointment at the surrender was the undeniable feeling of relief that the shelling and bombing had ceased.
All troops were faced with the prospect of immediate imprisonment, or escape while the going was good. Not a few attempted the latter alternative, and of these about three thousand eventually reached Sumatra, half of whom succeeded in getting away to India, the remainder being taken prisoner at Pasang, a port on the west of the island. It will never be known just how many perished in attempting to get away, but at least three or four thousand must have been killed by enemy action, drowned, or starved. I was one of a party which set off in high hopes with plentiful supplies of food and water. We found boats of a kind, but never a sign of an oar or sail let alone a motor. We considered that it would have been madness to set off under such circumstances, and somewhat crestfallen we returned to meet our fate.
Many ugly stories had been heard of the treatment of those who fell into the hands of the Japanese, and it was well know that they themselves commit ‘hara-kiri’ rather than be taken prisoner, consequently we faced the future with dubious feelings.
Our captors must have been bewildered at the magnitude of the task of dealing with such a number of prisoners, and of reorganising the civil administration. All Asiatic troops (Indians and those Malays that had not already been disbanded) were assembled at Faber Park before moving to smaller camps, and it was there that I bade farewell to my section of Sikhs, and with a very lumpy throat did my best to cheer them up. They were little more than recruits and can have had but a hazy idea of what it was all about. Although we played no actual part in the battle, there had been many casualties during the incessant shelling. The Subedar ( a historical rank in the Indian Army and Pakistan Army, ranking below British commissioned officers and above non-commissioned officers. The rank was otherwise equivalent to a British captain.) who took charge of the company was unable to control his grief at this deplorable finale to his twenty four years of loyal service, and particularly over the separation of the British Officers from the rest of the company, and he unashamedly wept at our final handshake.
On Tuesday 17th February all British and Australian troops marched unescorted to Changi. The allotment of vehicles to units, for conveyance of baggage, was quite inadequate, and in most cases ignored; but when the move was completed, all transport had to be handed over to the Japanese in Singapore.
Changi, situated in the eastern corner of the island, some fifteen miles from Singapore, was formerly the largest military camp in Malaya, and possibly the most sumptuous in the British Empire. The area had suffered a certain amount of damage by shelling and bombing, and in addition to this, the entire electrical system and water supply had been destroyed by our own engineers as part of the ‘scorched earth’ policy.
Having made the bed, we now had to sleep in it! It was five months before electric power was made available for the hospital, and the pumping stations were still useless six months after the capitulation, although running water was available in most buildings at some time of the day or night.
The inhabitants of Changi village had fled, leaving their houses and shops empty, and when all barrack blocks had been filled to capacity, the native quarters were occupied by our troops. The formation to which I was attached was allotted the police station, which we adapted to form an adequate but not luxurious billet.
The whole camp was subdivided into six areas, each of approximately one division in strength and a half to one square mile in extent. The Australians occupied one such area, 18th and 11th Divisions two more, Malaya Command and attached personnel of #3 Corps occupied Temple Hill, and Fortress Troops were in Southern Area, while the hospital comprised the sixth. Each subdivision was surrounded by a wire fence, and at the gates, or breaks in the wire, were stationed our own military police. The short stretches of road separating areas were patrolled by armed Sikhs.
These latter, mostly civilians but with many of the Indian Army under duress, had gone over to the Japanese under the leadership of Captain Dillon, a Sandhurst – trained Sikh, and later became the nucleus of the Free Indian Army widely publicised by the Japanese press. They lived in a camp just inside the perimeter wire which surrounded the whole area. Occasionally they detained individuals who had failed to salute a Sikh sentry or in some other way offended this traitor Dillon. In the camp they were forced to carry out highly degrading tasks, and subjected to childish tortures such as having their heads squeezed in vices; after a month or more of this, living under the crudest conditions, they were returned to their units. We can only hope that before our military authorities take ponderous steps towards retribution, the Gurkhas and other loyal Indian troops will deal with the offenders in their own far more effective way.
Of the Japanese we saw very little, apart from a picket post which was formed in May just behind our quarters. Their job had nothing to do with us, and their generosity with food and cigarettes nullified any disadvantages that their presence might have had. The Camp commander lived just outside the civil gaol on the extreme edge of the camp, and apart from rare visits by himself or his minions, and the ever rarer appearance of other Japanese troops; we were left entirely to ourselves.
As soon as possible Roberts Barracks were turned into what must have been the largest hospital in the world. (Hospital figures for the first 100 days:- Cases admitted 21,000. Dysentery 6,512, Beriberi 477, Deaths 306) Quite apart from the hundreds of cases of war wounds, dysentery soon broke out and spread rapidly; malaria and dengue fever were common complaints, malnutrition and beriberi resulted from the meager diet, and later diphtheria broke out. The R.A.M.C. (Royal Army Medical Corp) and I.M.S. (Indian Medical Service) fought a ceaseless battle under appalling conditions, working with insufficient medical supplies, and without electric power. They succeeded by sheer hard work in reducing the death rate from several men a day to about one a week, which was the figure in August when I left Changi.
The cemetery, which was started as soon as we were settled in Changi, rapidly increased in area, row upon row of neat graves appearing as time went on. It was well kept as any Flanders graveyard, and kept quite a large party of men permanently employed.
The subject which, under circumstances, ranked highest in importance, was that of food. The stocks which we brought out from Singapore after the capitulation were very soon exhausted, and we had to subsist on the extremely meager rations issued by the Japanese. The scale of issue, which scarcely altered at all while I was at Changi, was as follows: -
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Rice
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16 ounces per day
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Flour
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1 2/3 ounces per day
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Tea
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1/6 ounces per day
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Sugar
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2/3 ounces per day
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Cigarettes
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10 per week
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Gli
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1/6 ounces per day
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Salt
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1/6 ounces per day
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Fresh Meat
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1 once per day approx.
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Fresh Vegetables
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2 ounces per day
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This ration scale, which was just enough to keep us alive, and no more, was supplemented in a variety of ways. Each unit started gardening. At the police station we devoted most of the space to tapioca and sweet potatoes, which were grown for their green tops rather than for the roots. We also had in the compound several papaya trees and three coconut palms. Occasionally foraging expeditions were made outside the wire area; we collected coconuts, jackfruit, bamboo shoots, papaya, banana, ginger, limes, and sometimes a pineapple or two, the bulk of the haul invariably being coconuts.
A scheme known as ‘local purchase’ was inaugurated. A fatigue party – in our area always composed of officers – would push four or five trailers (engineless chassis of vehicles brought to Changi at the capitulation) to the central supply depot at Artillery Square. From here a Japanese sentry would accompany us outside the perimeter wire to various villages, where our local purchase officers negotiated with Malays and Chinese for such things as pineapple, banana, a vegetable called Kangkong, coconuts, coconut oil, eggs, soya bean sauce, sweet potatoes etc. While negotiations were in progress, and the trailers being loaded, we would often be allowed by the sentry to make individual purchases, and drink coffee at the native stalls. This was hard-earned refreshment however, as the loaded trailers were usually very heavy, the gradients steep, and the sun invariably what one would expect one degree from the equator. The produce brought back would be issued to units if paid for by the Japanese, or sold to individuals if bought out of our own fund. Not unnaturally there were many opportunities for graft and dishonesty, and it was the subject of great indignation that some of the local purchase officers lived on a far more lavish scale than the rest of us, and were never short of money. As a sideline they were always willing to resell cigarettes bought in the villages at two hundred per cent – or more – profit.
Prior to the capitulation, enormous stocks of tinned food, stored at Changi had been looted by the local natives and taken to their homes. Now, as soon as hunger began to be seriously felt these stocks began to dribble back, by means of the black market. Various persons, whose lack of morals qualified them for jobs in the secondhand car market, but who evidently had a certain type of business ability, would get through the wire and make their way to some village, and there purchase – at about double their real value – various tins of food. On returning to camp, they would unblushingly resell these tins at anything from four hundred to a thousand per cent profit, to those whose hunger overcame their common sense, and who had the necessary cash. As we had only what money we brought with us from Singapore, which varied from a few cents to several hundred dollars, these profiteers soon began to run short of customers. In order to keep a supply of money circulating, they proceeded to cash sterling cheques at rates of exchange highly advantageous to themselves. ($1 = 2/4 sterling)
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Commodity
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Value
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Bought at
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Resold at
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Bullly Beef, 12 oz tin
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40¢
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75¢ to a $1
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$5 - $10
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Meat & Veg. 14 oz tin
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40¢
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75¢ to a $1
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$4 - $6
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Tinned Milk 12 oz tin
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15¢
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60¢
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$3 - $5
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Cigarettes 10 players
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15¢
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50¢
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$1.50 - $2
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Cigarettes 20 Chinese
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10¢
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25¢
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$1 - $1.50
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The final source of food was the canteen. This was a system of supply of various necessities, including a certain amount of tinned foods, run by one Gian Singh, previously a Singapore shop owner. In June the Japanese commenced giving us ‘Amenities Pay’ at the rate of seven dollars a month for officers, four for N.C.O.’s and three for the men. This monthly pay of approximately sixteen shillings seemed at first untold wealth, and was joyfully exchanged for food and soap etc. at the canteen.
In order to vary the menu, which naturally consisted almost entirely of rice, many ingenious recipes were used, the primary object being to make this commodity look and taste as little like rice as possible. It was said at first that it was only with difficulty that one could consume a pound of rice in a day; this fallacy was immediately disproved by those with healthy appetites, who put away their full ration, complete with the weevils and mealworms that invariably accompanied it, and were quite ready to assist the other members of the mess in disposing of theirs!
As an indication of the state of affairs, it is worth mentioning that all cats and dogs in the vicinity quickly disappeared and several units organized parties to collect snails from the local hedges. These snails were of the ‘giant’ variety, being about the size of a golf ball. Our own mess secretary, who had spent a few years in Malaya, suggested that we should use them, and guaranteed that curried snails were not merely palatable, but were a delicacy. However most of us considered that sufficient fauna was already included in the issued rice and vegetables, and we threatened dire reprisals should he be tempted to produce any camouflage concoction of snail under a euphonious title.
We had not been in Changi long before working parties were organized, some living permanently in Singapore, others remaining in change quarters and being transported daily to and from the town. The former parties were usually engaged on road building work, and the daily parties on work in the docks.
My one and only outing from Changi was with a daily fatigue party in the middle of April. The journey into town, in an overcrowded lorry, driven at a reckless speed by a typically inexperienced Japanese soldier, was marred by a serious accident. One of our men was killed on the spot, and five others, of whom one later died of his injuries, were taken to hospital. On our eventual arrival at the docks, the men were given the task of shifting large baulks of timber, under Japanese supervision. The latter were quite amicably disposed towards our men, and there were, on that particular day, no cases of truculent behavior or ill-treatment. I made the most of the opportunity to secure food for the mess, and by dint of barefacedly looting from one of the godowns, and mingling with assorted Asiatics, including Japanese troops, at various stalls outside the dock area, I managed to fill a pack and haversack to capacity, and also satisfied my personal hunger for the first time for many weeks.
To judge from outward appearances, one might have said that conditions in Singapore were back to peace time normality, but we knew that this was far from being the case. The Chinese, who form the bulk of the population, were receiving very harsh treatment from their hereditary enemies, and food, particularly rice, was very scarce and expensive. We are continually hearing of cases of brutality against the civil population, and at one time a row of several heads adorned the front of the G.P.O.( Post Office) ‘pour encourager les autres’!
Up country there were many cases of the heads of families in Chinese villages being executed, and of men being bayoneted in their houses, or dragged into the streets to be beheaded by officers’ swords. On one occasion the main railway line was tampered with, and a train derailed. The entire inhabitants of the nearest village were rounded up, and packed into one house which was then douched with petrol and set on fire, machine guns being trained on the doorways to deal with any who attempted to escape being roasted alive.
There were several cases of mass shootings of Chinese. One of these took place on the beach at Changi where we were accustomed to bathe. Several of us were bathing at the time, and were surprised to hear the sound of intense machine gun and Tommy gun fire coming from beyond a clump of bushes, not a hundred yards away. On approaching to investigate we were shooed off in no uncertain manner by Japanese with rifles leveled at us. Having expended a considerable quantity of ammunition they left, presumably hoping that the rising tide would remove the bodies. It did not however, and on the following day permission was obtained for a burial party. There were over a hundred lying dead on the beach, with their hands tied behind their backs, and the burial squad found five Chinese still living, though suffering from extreme exposure in addition to many bullet wounds. They were smuggled into the hospital, and three of them survived.
The treatment of our own people by the enemy varied from one extreme to the other. A most unpleasant incident occurred at Alexander Hospital prior to the capitulation. It appears that some Indian troops had no more sense than to fire a Bren gun from one of the hospital windows on to the advancing Japanese. A party of the latter promptly ran amok through the wards and operating theatres, bayoneting doctors and patients right and left. Another affair occurred in Sumatra, when the survivors of a mixed party of nurses and evacuees reached the shore in small boats after their vessel had been bombed. The men were massacred on the beach, and the women were ordered to march into the sea, and were shot in the back as they did so. One nurse escaped to tell the tale by feigning death in the sea; after many adventures she reached an internment camp at Palembang. (By a curious coincidence I have met and now know well Peggy Gibb the heroine of this incident) a.j.j. 1946
Three men who decided to walk into Singapore from Changi, were shot, but two others who, whilst on a permanent working party in Singapore, escaped and boarded a train, and were caught at Jahor Bahm on the mainland, were given a good feed and sent back to their camp unpunished! This latter case was of course quite exceptional.
There were several officers and men at Changi who, through being cut off during the campaign on the mainland, had been at large for some considerable time after the fall of Singapore. They all had interesting tales to tell of their experiences, and were agreed that, in contrast to the Malays, who were unhelpful and treacherous, the Chinese went out of their way to render any assistance possible to British fugitives. Later on a would-be escaper returned from the mainland, with a nasty knife wound in the shoulder. This he had received in an encounter with some Malays, who killed his companion; fortunately he managed to escape and swim back to the island.
Whether or not anybody succeeded in reaching safety and freedom from Changi remains to be seen, but without a good knowledge of the languages and topography of Malaya, any attempt seemed suicidal. (If any person did succeed, I have yet to hear of it.) a.j.j.1946
The daily life at Changi was largely what one made it. Those who sat reading books from dawn till dusk – and quite a few made this their routine – were undoubtedly bored stiff; but one did not have to look far to find innumerable ways of spending one’s time. A few tools, scrounged from here and there, made it possible to carry out many necessary repairs and improvements to our quarters. There was always gardening to be done, and wood to be chopped for the cookhouse. There were various ‘fatigues’ for officers, such as ‘local purchase’ excursions previously mentioned, and woodcutting for the whole area, which was also done outside the wire.
At first we could bathe as often as we wished, but later this was curtailed to certain hours. The bathing was very pleasant indeed, and although we always used the open water in preference to the stockade tanks, there were no cases of interference by sharks.
As regards sports, football and cricket were both played with enthusiasm, Southern Area boasting two football pitches and an excellent cricket ground. Considering the diet, the standard of play was very high. Amongst many well-known players was Barnett the Aussie Test Team wicket-keeper. There was of course, ample scope for those who preferred indoor games. In addition to every known card game, chess, draughts, Mahjong, Monopoly and many others helped to pass the time.
From time to time ‘Arts and Crafts’ exhibitions were held. The standard of the exhibits, which included pencil sketches and water-colour paintings, wood carving, metal work, needle work, model making etc. , was of a high order, showing great ingenuity and patience, especially in view of the lack of tools and materials.
Changi Cinema, an open air, somewhat ramshackle place, was soon adapted for concert parties, and the non-stop revues put on by the “Southern Area Mumming Bees” were worthy of a London stage. The program was changed every four weeks or so, and the team of actors and musicians worked hard every day rehearsing and playing. The dresses, some bought from Singapore, some looted locally, and some made, within the camp, were excellent.
18th Division produced “Dover Road” by A.A. Milne very well indeed, and Temple Hill Area made a very good show of Bernard Shaw’s “Arms and the Man”. The Australians’ concert party, also first class, gave several performances in our area.
Every Saturday evening gramophone recitals of classical music were held in a large barrack block situated on top of Changi Hill. The view from this hill, particularly to the north and west, was magnificent, and to sit on the verandah listening to a first class concert, and watching the sun sink behind the hills of Jahor was no ordinary pleasure. After a month or two these recitals were varied by the introduction of piano and violin solos, and later a Changi Male Choir was organized. When I left in August, a complete orchestra was being formed. Never can a prisonof-war camp have been as well catered for as regards music as we were.
Perhaps the most ambitious institution was Changi University. Half a barrack block, in a central position, was set aside, and a lorry load of books was brought from Raffles College in Singapore. All faculties were catered for, and the whole was under the jurisdiction of the Dean, supported by several Readers, of Raffles College. The latter had joined various military units at the outbreak of the war, and had subsequently found their way to Southern Area at Changi. The engineering faculty, in which I was interested, was under the supervision of the C.R.E. (Certified Reliable Engineer), and there were plenty of competent instructors among the P.W.D. (Public Works Department) officials. Later, a School of Architecture was opened nearby under Gurmer, French F.R.I.B.A.
Such a variety of entertainment and occupation left little excuse for those who complained of boredom. It was these amenities coupled with our pleasant surroundings and climate, which took the sting out of the first six months of our incarceration, and made our existence in a prisoner-of-war camp infinitely more tolerable than either we, or probably the Japanese, had anticipated.
This state of affairs, however, was not destined to last for long. Already a large party had gone up-country, three thousand Australians had gone to Burma, and a party of fifteen hundred, which nearly included myself, had been sent to Borneo. (Of these 1500 there were only 3 survivors when the Japanese capitulated.)
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