Descent into Hell

by Peter Brune

  8 May 1942:

  Two supper clubs have started in ‘A’ mess now, & I think Alec & Co have one over the way, so our end of the building is the only one that goes to bed hungry.—[sic] but none of us have any cash. What can you use for money when you have none.

  13 June 1942:

  . . . so far my friends particularly two of them have come to light so often that I am almost beginning to feel embarrassed.—[sic] the latest is three packets of cigarette papers & a half pound tin of No Name—Players very best. Galleghan [‘Black Jack’] always brings a packet apiece when he comes out from Thompson Rd [this is the period in time when Galleghan was commanding a work party].

  19 June 1942:

  Last night thirty dollars tumbled into my pocket from a good contact. Gee but I do feel sick. First a tin of ‘No Name’ tobacco & now thirty dollars. I am set up for at least a month.73

  No examination of Changi Prison during those first fifteen months would be complete without mention of the Selarang Barracks Square incident.

  Initially, Changi’s first Japanese commander had been Colonel Sugita, who was responsible for the military prisoners and the civilian internees in the much smaller Changi Gaol. Sugita’s subordinate was Lieutenant Okazaki, who ran the military camp. From a POW perspective, the period was notable for an absence of Japanese guards within the camp. But on 16 August, Thompson recorded that: ‘Major General Shimpei Fukuye Commander of all P.O.W camps in Malaya, assumed command control of P.O.W. camps at Changi and Singapore. Lt Okazaki remaining on Administration Staff.’74 Fukuye’s initial generosity knew no bounds when he made a gift—across both Malaya Command and the AIF—two days later of 6500 tins of pineapple, and promptly distributed Red Cross supplies of 36 118 lbs of mixed soup; 12 210 lbs of sweets; 85 680 lbs of maize meal; 61 056 lbs of mixed jams; and 21 240 lbs of kaffir corn [sic].75 Thompson:

  RED CROSS SUPPLIES. DISTRIBUTION.

  6% to Civil Internees

  1/8 to Hospital for consumption by patients

  17/42 of remainder to be issued to formations

  25/42 of remainder to be retained for issue to P.O.W. other camps.

  ISSUES decided to issue maize meal 2 ozs a day for 1 month

  A.I.F. decided to issue other goods as a daily ration76

  One day later, on 19 August 1942, Major-General Fukuye held a parade of all troops and stated that he would ‘endeavour to be as kind to P.O.W. [sic] as regulations permitted’.77

  On 30 August, Fukuye demanded that all Changi POWs sign a statement stipulating that: ‘I, the undersigned, hereby solemnly swear on my honour that I will not, under any circumstances, attempt escape.’78 On 2 September four escapees—two of them Australians—were executed by a Sikh firing squad under Japanese supervision. British and Australian senior officers were ordered to witness the executions. When the British and Australians refused to sign the form, all 14 609 POWs (including 1897 Australians) were marched to Selarang Square, placed on one-third rations, had access to only two water taps, and were thus confined within an area of little more than eight acres (about 3.24 hectares).79 After negotiations over whether the ‘statement’ might be reworded or made an order not a request, the British and Australian commanders ordered their soldiers to sign. All in Changi maintained that because the form had been signed under duress it was invalid. On 5 September, all POWs returned to their previous quarters.

  Two points are of great significance with regards to Major-General Fukuye’s ‘gift’ on assumption of his command and the ensuing Selarang Barracks Square incident.

  The first was the immediate pilfering of those stocks. Thompson recorded that $686 worth of goods had disappeared before the actual camp delivery. Lieutenant-Colonel ‘Black Jack’ Galleghan ‘expressed his regret’ but soon pointed out that some of the pilfering had occurred before the AIF fatigue party could take over. In the end, the AIF paid $230 compensation out of its funds.80 The AIF ‘recompense’ paid to Malaya Command was around one-third of the pilfered amount, which would seem to indicate that a very substantial, speedy—and therefore highly organised—theft was undertaken by civilians (probably criminal societies), before the AIF had access to the supplies. There was also speculation that the pilfering was partly facilitated by Japanese collusion.

  But the most significant point to come out of this incident is the parallel execution of escapees and the demand of a written promise that POWs would not, in future, undertake escape attempts in Pudu Prison at around the same time. ‘Black Jack’ Galleghan would later write: ‘The most notable feature of this incident was the cohesion and unity of British and Australian troops, and the fine morale and spirit shown.’81 The reader will remember that when Captain ‘Roaring Reggie’ Newton left Pudu for Changi, he was well aware that the Japanese expected something in return for any apparent generosity. ‘If you were given permission to buy from canteens or on work parties you could be sure that you would lose something.’82 True, Newton wrote about the lessons he had learnt in Pudu for his unit history, which was written long after the event. But the truth is that his manner of leadership in Pudu, in Changi, on a Singapore work party, and, critically, on the Thai–Burma Railway adequately demonstrated that his ‘lessons’ were learnt at the time. The Selarang Barracks Square incident shows us that Lieutenant-Colonel ‘Black Jack’ Galleghan had learnt very little from the experience. Major-General Fukuye’s issue of a multitude of foodstuffs upon his arrival and his pledge ‘to be as kind to P.O.W. [sic] as regulations permitted’ was merely a prelude to his demand for a signing of the non-escape document and the subsequent Selarang Barracks Square detention. The whole episode had little or nothing to do with ‘the fine morale and spirit shown’.

  The reader will recall that Captain ‘Roaring Reggie’ Newton and his Pudu contingent of Australians had been ordered to be ready to move to Singapore on 30 September 1942. After five delays Newton’s men made the one-day train trip ‘30 to a steel truck; no food and the two Jap guards taking up all the room and fresh air at the open doorway.83 They were then transported by truck to Changi. On 3 October, Thompson recorded the ‘arrival of 161 troops from Kuala Lumpur, majority admitted to hospital’.84 The two radio sets which had been hidden in Pudu were smuggled into Changi and handed in to Lieutenant-Colonel Kappe.

  It will be remembered that Newton had sent a toilet roll to Singapore via a Chinese courier with a nominal roll of Pudu’s Australians hidden inside it. When he reported to Lieutenant-Colonel Galleghan at AIF HQ, a stormy confrontation took place. Newton would later record that he: ‘. . . was soundly berated and ticked off for addressing the toilet roll “Dear Fred” and in future he would be court-martialled if he addressed a senior officer publicly by his christian [sic] name.’85 Newton claimed that he then ‘turned’ on ‘Black Jack’ and in ‘blunt terms’ delivered a spirited lecture on security measures, on the need to protect the Chinese courier, and that Galleghan might consider going on another work party to acquaint himself with a few ‘home truths’. The reader might imagine Galleghan’s reaction. Soon there were to be further conflicts.

  If Galleghan and Newton had clashed, then Lieutenant-Colonel Edward ‘Weary’ Dunlop’s arrival in Singapore unleashed an everlasting antipathy between two strong, determined commanders which would continue postwar.

  After its capitulation on 9 March 1942, Java became the second largest venue for Australian POWs, with around 3000 scattered inmates. The Australians on Java, like those in Pudu, had suffered a cruel initiation of life under Japanese rule. While it is not the purpose of this work to examine in detail either Dunlop’s Java experience, or his subsequent exploits on the Thai–Burma Railway—they have been comprehensively recorded elsewhere—his transit through Singapore and his Railway experience will be examined briefly as they illuminate our story.

  ‘Weary’ Dunlop had joined the Australian Army Medical Corps (6th Division) in November 1939 with the rank of captain; he had subsequently been posted as the Acting Assistant Director of Medical Services at the Aus
tralian Overseas Base Jerusalem; had served in Greece and Crete; in July 1941, he became second-in-command of the 2/2nd Casualty Clearing Station and had served as its senior surgeon in Tobruk; and when the 6th and 7th Divisions were withdrawn from the Middle East, Dunlop and his 2/2nd CCS were sent to participate in the ill-fated fighting on Java. As a lieutenant-colonel, he was in command of the Number 1 Allied General Hospital at Bandung Java, when the island fell.

  During the period October 1942 to January 1943, a number of Java parties entered Changi in transit to the Thai–Burma Railway—and elsewhere. Some of them were Dutch, others Australian and some were mixed. The Dutch were often christened ‘Wilhelmina’s wet arsed warriors’ by the Australians; it was a reference to the Dutch Queen and her soldiers’ habit of using a water bottle and cloth in the toilet. The term reflected a certain contempt for their military performance on Java. A number of these Dutch Java parties were briefly accommodated in the AIF perimeter in Changi, and, given their appalling physical condition and ragged and sparse clothing, some were given limited clothing from the AIF store.

  Nine hundred Australians comprising Dunlop Force arrived in Singapore on 7 January 1943. With close-shaven heads, wearing ragged and tattered uniforms, some of them bootless, and all gaunt, worn and hungry, they were immediately struck by both the appearance and military demeanour of their new hosts. Dunlop’s first encounter was with Malaya Command British officers. They were neatly dressed, carried canes, and were ‘blowing out puffy little moustaches and talking in an “old chappy” way’.86 When Dunlop met Galleghan the following day, all went wrong from the start. Unannounced, and wearing Changi officer armbands, Dunlop met Lieutenant-Colonel White, whom he knew, but failed to recognise Lieutenant-Colonel Galleghan. Neither Dunlop or his men saluted the party—a fatal error—because they were unaware that the Japanese had long since ordered badges of rank to be removed. It was only as the 8th Division party was leaving that ‘Black Jack’ introduced himself and enquired as to whether he could help Dunlop’s party. Dunlop noted in his diary Galleghan’s insistence on ‘proper dress and smart turnout’ and sarcastically described this as ‘a praiseworthy achievement’.87

  Matters now went from bad to worse when someone in 8th Division christened Dunlop Force the ‘Java Rabble’. Not to be outdone, the reciprocal slogan ‘the 8th Division Harriers’ was coined. On 9 January 1943, Galleghan, obviously having made a hasty, ill-founded (as history shows), and egotistical decision, sent Dunlop the following memo:

  To Lt-Col. Dunlop I/C AIF S. Area

  From HQ AIF Q.3250 9/1

  Com. AIF desires following information:

  Name of senior combatant officer with party

  Suggest changing O.C. party to combatant officer

  Is there any reason for not making change?

  1600 Alex Thompson Maj.88

  Dunlop’s reply stated that Major W. Wearne was the senior combatant officer and also explained that he, Dunlop, had commanded the force as senior officer, and that ‘before making any change your further advice would therefore be appreciated’.89

  That night Brigadier Arthur Blackburn, VC visited Dunlop to say farewell before his departure north. Blackburn had been Dunlop’s superior in Java. ‘Black Jack’s’ memo did not amuse him. He wrote, as Galleghan’s superior, the following reply: ‘I have considered this matter and desire Lt-Col. Dunlop to retain command for administrative and disciplinary purposes so long as the troops brought over by him remain together as one body.’90 A simple point should be made. One officer (Galleghan) acted on a brief, superficial and preliminary meeting with a fellow officer and had then made a important decision based on that ‘impression’. Another (Blackburn) knew Dunlop’s qualities, had witnessed them and had entrusted the command and welfare of the soldiers of Dunlop Force—including a number of his (Blackburn’s) former 2/3rd Machine Gun Battalion men—to Dunlop. One officer knew precisely what he was doing, and the other was behaving in an arrogant and dictatorial manner. Lieutenant-Colonel Galleghan was a man of many extremes—good and bad. We see him here at his worst.

  Brigadier Blackburn had left Changi just before matters came to a head at an AIF dinner that night. When someone referred to Dunlop Force as the ‘Java Rabble’ within Dunlop’s hearing, he rose and rattled off the exploits of the ‘Java Rabble’. Amongst them were the Western Desert, Greece, Crete, Syria and Java.91 He then reportedly rose and finished with: ‘And now we, the Java Rabble, salute you, the 8th Division, who have fought so gallantly in Malaya.’92 After dinner Galleghan again brought up the issue of command. When Dunlop produced Blackburn’s ‘note’ Galleghan had no choice but to back down. He then asked what assistance was required, to which Dunlop requested clothing, boots, caps and rice polishings. ‘Weary’ Dunlop recorded that his men were to eventually receive six pairs of boots, 150 pairs of socks and 20 caps.93 An examination of Thompson’s diary regarding the clothing issued to a multitude of forces leaving Changi for ‘up country’ or ‘overseas’ destinations, reveals the simple fact that the ‘Java Rabble’ received an extremely frugal supply. Dunlop Force left Changi for the Railway on 20 January 1943. Seething at what he saw as Galleghan’s neglect in assisting him, and equally angry at his interference in command, Dunlop left Galleghan with a stinging last word the day before his departure: ‘Two weeks ago my men arrived in a pitiful condition in this camp from Java. You have done nothing to alleviate their needs. Tomorrow at 8.30 they leave in the same pitiable condition: bootless and in rags. You have done nothing.’94

  Whilst fate can be a cruel master, it can also at times unwittingly assume the role of a ‘guardian angel’. Those in Changi who were always optimistic about their chances of surviving captivity and returning home were often referred to as ‘hopers’. Corporal Jim Kennedy, 2/29th Battalion:

  If it’s not getting worse than this [Changi], we can put up with it, because we’ll win in the end. It’s no good crying about it . . . home for Christmas was the motto. It was true!

  Home for Christmas 1945!95

  Driver Joe Nimbs was a ‘hoper’. He had believed that A Force, the first force to leave Changi on 14 May 1942, was heading for ‘a better’ place: ‘we all keep hearing that the Japs are going to send us to a neutral country and the limbless troops are to be sent home. We would all like to be on it . . .’96 Having missed the first force, Nimbs went to great lengths not to be disappointed a second time:

  B-Force was about to move and five names were read out on parade . . . They were told to get their gear ready to move at short notice. Must be some mistake. They had forgotten to read my name out as I had earlier been selected as a member of the party and was breaking my neck to go. I felt some concern after I had asked to see the Orderly Room Officer. I was told I had been taken off the party as I was wanted at the R.A.P. Oh what a blow! My rickshaw mate the biggest ‘hoper’ of all time who I am going to miss although he often woke me up with his snoring said, ‘Anyhow, I will wait till you get to Switzerland before I try to escape. I will know all the lurks by the time you get there.’ I said Cheerio to my friend and the rest of the unit on the party, the Doctor and his Orderlies as they boarded the trucks to get on their way this morning the 8th of July. Gee, some have all the luck.97

  There was to be no luck, no Switzerland, and no lurks for Joe’s ‘rickshaw mate’—he died during the Sandakan death marches in Borneo. Driver Joe Nimbs could not yet know that whilst life in Changi was no picnic, it was arguably one of the best places in the Greater Asian Co-Prosperity Sphere to be a prisoner of Nippon.

  There is an immense difference between purgatory and hell.

  26

  THE SINGAPORE WORK CAMPS

  During the first fifteen months of Changi’s existence as a POW camp, its population was ever changing as parties of prisoners arrived from such places as Java, while many of its original occupants were sent out to a multitude of work camps on Singapore Island.

  The ability of the Australians to scrounge all manner of items on the docks of
Keppel Harbour and smuggle them into camp despite searches is not only well documented but has passed into Australian folklore. However, the effect on the POWs’ health, the nature of some of the Australian scrounging and the manner in which some of those camps were run was to influence the chances of survival for many of them on the notorious Thai–Burma Railway.

  It should be appreciated that the Japanese deployed work parties from Changi far and wide over Singapore Island. The physical conditions, the number of POWs in any given camp, the diet and the potential for scrounging and bartering—all depended on the location and the nature of the work to be done. On 31 March 1942, for example, Major Alan Thompson noted that there were 800 men at Bukit Timah engaged in building a Japanese memorial—who, it transpired, were living in abandoned civilian houses near the Singapore Golf Course—and that 56 were at Mersing clearing mines.1 Many of the POWs at Mersing later returned to Changi suffering from malaria. For the purposes of our story, the highly populated camps which furnished a multitude of troops for work at Keppel Harbour and around Singapore Town itself will be examined, because they tell us so much about the work party experience for a great many of Changi’s inmates, and the link between the work party experience and the Thai–Burma Railway.