Descent into Hell

by Peter Brune

  Captain Roy Mills was faced with two horrific cholera outbreaks—one at Taimonta and the other at Takanun:

  Stools burnt on blazing fires. Bed pans too small to cope with profuse stools—some almost 2 quarts [about 2.5 litres] in quantity . . .

  Dehydration of cholera patient has to be seen to be believed. Nose looks really sharp, cheek bones terribly prominent—eyes roll upward giving dreadful appearance—skin of hands feet very wrinkled. Cramps in abdomen and legs almost unbearable—agonising but given immediate (almost) relief following commencement of saline.50

  The origin of the ‘almost immediate relief ’ was a masterstroke of improvisation. When his first cholera cases occurred at Taimonta, Mills filtered his saline into Japanese beer bottles and then ‘boiled 300 cc Ampoule’. He then joined his stethoscope rubber to a cut thermometer case, and then to either a needle or bamboo cannula. Two saline infusions each of about 2.27 litres (about 4 pints) often saved a life.51 At Takanun Captain Roy Mills treated 63 cholera cases of whom 25 died. During the two outbreaks of cholera he treated 102 patients for 44 deaths. Walker, in the Australian Official Medical History, would record that ‘in the circumstances the results were remarkable’.52

  Such was the despair of being taken to the cholera tent that some men, despite the best of treatment and care that could be given under the circumstances, considered it a death sentence. Corporal Bob Christie took to self-diagnosis and treatment:

  Suddenly I started to vomit and I started to pass motions—worms, everything came out. They took me straight back to camp, tested me and they said, ‘You’re a cholera carrier.’ So they put me straight into the cholera tent, and in the cholera tent there were eight blokes . . . the eight blokes were laying in mud, it was teeming with rain, the tent was leaking, no floor boards . . . and I was put in there with a fellow named Henderson . . . and I said to Henderson, ‘If we stay here we die, let’s get out of here!’ So we crawled out to the bamboo . . . and we laid in the bamboo with a ground sheet over us, I think it was for a day or two days, and the disease went right through us and we came good. Nobody came near us, we never ate anything, we never did anything. When we were right, we were able to walk down to the gate—they had a fence around the cholera area—with rice for the blokes who were in the other tents, and we fed the other blokes. And there were orderlies there too. And then we built the funeral pyres to burn the fellows who died. I remember the first one we did the bloke sat up! We knew the blokes we were cremating—dreadful!53

  Captain Roy Mills won universal respect and admiration amongst all members of Pond’s party. At a postwar reunion, Private Paddy O’Toole—a forthright man—would recall that: ‘. . . he said, “How are you?” And I said, “I’m good.” And I shook him by the hand, and all I could say to him was, “Thanks very much, Sir!” I was dumbfounded!’54

  The quantity, quality and availability of goods through both established canteens and the black market in the Takanun area are central to our understanding—and assessment—of the fortunes of Lieutenant-Colonel Pond’s party at that camp, and by extension, his leadership. Lieutenant-Colonel Pond:

  At Takanun troops had virtually no meat at all for the first month and the same policy of starving the sick was insisted upon again. Practically no vegetables at all were available either, though at nearby English camps each man was having ½ lb meat and plenty of green vegetables daily. The latter period at Takanun was better but still poor except for the party detached to the 2 Kilo camp who, under the guard OKAMURA, lived remarkably well with 1 lb meat per man per day and vegetables in proportion—an indication that food was available, as indeed was well known, for the troops [in transit and during carrying parties] had seen large quantities of tinned foods in local stores. With working hours up to 16 to 18 per day a rapid deterioration of health occurred here.55

  We deal first with the sources and availability of money and goods.

  It will be recalled that an examination was made in the last chapter of Boon Pong’s contract with the Japanese to supply them along the Railway; of his relationship with the underground ‘V’ Organisation in the movement of money, extra food and limited drug supplies along the River Kwai; and his thriving business with POWs in the sale of watches, jewellery and other personal items. Further, it will be recalled that Boon Pong was not the sole barge trader along the River Kwai, but that his unique involvement with the ‘V’ Organisation and his contract with the Japanese certainly made him the most influential.

  We have identified in the last chapter, Lieutenant-Colonel McEachern’s citing of two fascinating ‘V’ Organisation sums of money: ‘Up River Camps’ 17 400.00 ticals and ‘Various’ 65 236.34 ticals.56 The ‘up-river’ and ‘various’ were camps such as Tampie, Rin Tin, Takanun and as far north as Nieke. The extent of these donations which arrived in the British Takanun camp is therefore unclear, but it is highly likely that they were substantial. But we do have some concept of Boon Pong’s activities. J. Coast in his Railway of Death has recorded that Boon Pong ‘used to bring supplies by barge and “Pom Pom” right up to our area [Takanun] and beyond’, and that he brought the British ‘food, news and sometimes even free drugs’. As with Newton’s ‘U’ Battalion, Coast also stated that Boon Pong ‘advanced us generous sums against watches, rings and cigarette cases’.57 Whilst Nieke was a far tougher proposition for Boon Pong’s barges during the wet season, Takanun was always within his reach.

  Mention should also be made of the significance of Nieke to the supply of goods. When passing through that village after the completion of the Railway, ‘A’ Force’s Captain Rowley Richards observed its commercial wealth: ‘. . . it seemed beyond belief that we were now strolling through a relatively sophisticated village. We had re-entered civilisation, where people operated shops and markets, drove elephants and were policed by men in gold-braided uniforms.’58

  Nieke, at the end of the River Kwai, was thus the northernmost point of commercial ‘affluence’ along that river lifeline. It should be understood that the British at Takanun were not well fed or watered, but what is asserted is that like Newton’s ‘U’ Battalion further south, a critical trickle of money, food and drugs often tipped the balance between life and death. And the fact that the British chose to make generous donations to Pond’s party when the general attitude on the Railway was quite understandably ‘charity begins at home’ is ample testimony to their ability to procure money and black market goods. Lieutenant-Colonel Pond:

  Mention must be made of the help given by English camps to the 700 party at Takanun. The officers at one English camp contributed $248—to buy food for the sick and medical treatment supplies and assistance were given by another hospital camp. In this regard it is desired to single out Lt. Col. WILLIAMSON, Lt. Col. LARKIN (I.A.), Maj. PYCOCK (R.A.O.C), Maj. PEMBERTON (R.A.M.C.) and Capt. LORD (R.A.S.C.) for the pains they went to, to actually get and bring food to our sick men.59

  The truth is that Lieutenant-Colonel Pond failed to employ the very same sources of help for his men as had the British. In his papers, Pond would record that:

  In the first three months (in Thailand) I had no sickness personally, probably my system was better used to [words unclear, appears to be ‘famine like’] foods than most, on account of my porridge eating at home. I was well fed as a child. Religious faith and thoughts of Jessie were a great standby in trouble.60

  In the same document he recorded that:

  The English officers brought canteen supplies for us which were isolated (by the presence of cholera). (I noted) prices, eggs 15 cents each, condensed milk $2.50 a tin, herrings (in sauce) large $2.50 per tin, small 80 cents. We also got sugar, gula malacca [native sugar], peanuts, soya beans, sardines, whitebait, coffee, tea, biscuits ($3.50 per tin). These items (from the canteen) were a great help to the sick as the Japanese rations were very, very poor . . .

  I was able to buy eggs, milk, sugar, biscuits, fish. (We did a little) private cooking (and produced) tapioca custard, omelettes, milky [unclear] tea etc
(it should not be thought that these supplies were ever constant or even plentiful, but every now and again something became available).61

  There would have been no shortage of POWs in his party who had a loving mother who fed them porridge as a child, had the love of a parent, wife or sweetheart at home, and who possessed ample ‘religious faith’. But unlike their commander, many men in Pond’s party regularly undertook between twelve and fourteen hours of hard labour daily; did not have any money nor goods to sell, and therefore did not have access to the barge supplies, nor the kindness of the British. The RSM, Warrant Officer Bert Mettam, is a case in point. Busily engaged in organising work party numbers with the adjutant each morning, and then accompanying the men out to a cutting, or ledge, or bridge—and often receiving a beating in the process—he quite simply had nothing to sell (his watch was stolen in Changi), and, whilst he knew of the British camp, never, at any time, could he remember receiving any ‘extra’ rations, goods or supplies. Lance-Corporal Roxburgh and Corporal Jim Kennedy are other examples of men who quite simply ate the ‘normal’ ration and suffered accordingly. Further, the officers’ quarters were near the kitchen and as Corporal Bob Christie recorded: ‘We wouldn’t know what they were fed because we didn’t see them eating, you see they never ate with the men.’62 This in no way implies that all officers were necessarily given a privileged share of the rations, but, in terms of morale, the notion that they should have been seen to share their men’s fate—and rations—would have been desirable. When some officers are perceived to live a privileged life and contribute virtually nothing around a camp, there are those who will react in the interests of self-preservation. It should be mentioned, in fairness, that Captain Barnett’s diary records that Pond’s party was paid twice on the Railway, which is confirmed by Corporal Christie’s diary. Both Pond and Barnett also record that some items were purchased on a few occasions from the adjoining British camp for the hospital.

  However, the resourcefulness of ‘street savvy’ POWs was no less prevalent in Pond’s party than in others. Paddy O’Toole identified the purchase of such local goods as eggs, gula malacca and fruit from passing coolies. But scrounging items such as tinned fish and condensed milk from the barges was another matter, because Pond’s party lacked the infrastructure and organisation of units such as Newton’s ‘U’ Battalion. Paddy O’Toole:

  Well, it depends on the blokes working on the barge. Gangs might have gone down, ten men, or something like that, to unload the barge under Jap supervision. Now, it depends how cunning the blokes were. Like [Private] Dougy Cameron, he used to put stuff down his shirt, put stuff over the side of the barge [to someone in the water or to be picked up later]. Dougy Cameron, he was one of the best scroungers . . . C Company 2/29th Battalion.

  I came across the river one night with a box of the bastards! A box of condensed milk . . . I knocked it off from the stack [from the Jap supplies] We buried it in the camp under the fire place . . . At night time when things are quiet, you make up a billy full of milk . . . take it into your mates that are crook. Occasionally tinned fish, most stuff bobbed up, occasionally bobbed up.63

  Corporal Jim Kennedy remembered Private J. C. (Jackie) Smerdon: ‘he got it [food] for the sick blokes. He didn’t get it to sell or anything like that.’64 And such commodities as rice occasionally ‘bobbed up’ on carrying parties where POWs were ordered to carry stores from one venue to another. Paddy O’Toole: ‘Fill your fucking pocket! You see a hand full [sic] of rice makes a good bowl full of rice once it’s cooked.’65

  When discussing his men’s morale, Lieutenant-Colonel Pond concluded that:

  This was at times low, and petty thefts and evidence of selfishness occurred but morale greatly improved in latter months. Discipline among R.A.E. [Royal Australian Engineers] personnel was poor . . .

  A good deal of selling of personal effects and clothing occurred. Although every endeavour was made to stop this it was hard to blame troops for trying to obtain food by this means at a time when they were on starvation diet and had received no money.66

  Blame them indeed. Some of the other ranks did engage in theft and were selfish. Stealing did take place, and morality aside, desperate men do desperate things. In an interview with the author, Corporal Jim Kennedy simply stated that: ‘. . . [stealing] drugs, yes, on the Railway, yes, there was one fella did it and he didn’t survive. It wasn’t the Japs that did him.’67 The notion that Pond could condemn ‘the selling of personal effects’, and that ‘every endeavour was made to stop this’, smacks of an appalling set of double standards. Captain Adrian Curlewis, diary, 30 June 1943:

  A morning drying out my pack and clothes and then the hardest decision I have ever made. For five weeks a sentry has tried to buy my watch. I have starved, literally, rather than part with it. Gula malacca and bananas became available in a kampong so from $25 I pushed him to $70. Starvation and sentiment do not go together, so I sold, paid my debts, made loans and felt stronger than ever . . . To bed, not hungry for the first time for weeks.68

  Captain Roy Mills, diary, 29 July 1943:

  An I.J.A. soldier took a great fancy to my watch and after days of haggling on his part—myself having told him I wanted $110 for it more to scare him off than anything, since I must have a watch, he produced another waterproof watch and I accepted 47 dollars and his watch for mine—so I am wearing a watch originally owned by VX 53067 Pte L.P. Wallace with that name on the back and a Nippon soldier wears what I once owned. I think he is trading in watches. So I can pay $22 I owe and now really own a pair of boots costing $15. I was stony broke on the trip up and other officers were very generous in helping me out. Now I can repay the compliment.69

  Curlewis’s and Mills’s diaries reveal the ability to procure tinned fish, gula malacca, condensed milk and fruit, and further, each were able to visit the British across the stream for the odd meal. Neither Curlewis or Mills were involved in anything other than a perfectly legitimate attempt to survive by trading their personal possessions. It is hard to escape the conclusion that when officers eat separately from their men and when a number of them dodge work and any form of responsibility for the care of those soldiers, the men would feel contempt for them and ill discipline would ensue.

  A number of officers in Pond’s party chose to flee Takanun and their responsibilities. Captain Ben Barnett, diary, 11 August 1943:

  1700 hrs. I.J.A. Doctor asked Capt Mills to supply names of 150 men who should be evacuated to WYNYEA [Tarsau Base Hospital] . . . Number to be evacuated to WYNYEA tomorrow increased to 80. Four more signals included—sigmn Ford, Newberry, Collins and Turnbull. Total 8 offrs (no signals) & 72 O/Rs.70

  On the 14th, Barnett recorded that this number had been reduced to 70, and the probable date of departure was the 16th.71 When 80 men were duly evacuated by barge, Captain Roy Mills despaired for the remaining 70 or so very sick men who the Japanese had promised would also go. His diary, 16 August 1943:

  . . . we got away another 80 unfit men by barge down the river . . . The information for the preparation of the rolls came one evening to be ready next morning. 150 names required—we got the worst 30 and then added the 8 worst from each company up to about 108. Unfortunately they only sent 80 or so apart from their very worst cases 2 companies missed out. I won’t forgive myself for this if another boatload does not go.72

  Captain Adrian Curlewis was more forthright. His diary, 17 August 1943:

  Trench feet and diarrhoea got me. Back at 0400 hours from work. A wash and cup of coffee, half an hour in the latrines got me to bed at 0500. Sick parade at 0900 hours got me the day off. Yesterday another 80 men went down the river as too sick to work, including 10 officers. Selfishness and a sad story of illness got a few away and I am left as the old man of the camp. My reward (as the sick officers were all young men) was to overhear several conversations among the men, and some to my face, of support and comradeship for me while they despised their own officers of 2/29th.73

  Paddy O’Toole, 2/29th Bat
talion: ‘I thought he was alright. I thought Curlewis, among the senior officers, was as good as there was.’74 When given a list of officers in Pond’s party and asked to comment on their performance on the Railway, Corporal Bob Christie, the long-serving secretary of the 2/29th Battalion Association and the keeper of exhaustive records of the unit, used the diplomatic terms ‘first class’, ‘active’, ‘occasionally active’ and ‘evacuated by barge Wanyea [sic]’ to the author’s list of officers. Whilst Mills, Barnett, Curlewis and an additional few featured in the ‘first class’ category, it is of interest to note that a number—not all—who were cited as ‘evacuated by barge Wanyea [sic]’ simply had a blank by their names.75 The ORs have long memories. When, after the war, 2/29th Battalion reunions occurred, there would be bitter recollections of officers in the swamp near Bakri who absconded with all of the maps and compasses, and of a number of those same officers who had been ‘drones’ around Takanun, and had left them for Wanyea on 16 August 1943.

  After completion of their work at Takanun in early September 1943, Pond’s party was moved through Tamarompat, Krian Krai, and through to Taimonta, where they were engaged again in a prolonged stay. The period was notable for repeated and exhausting work parties engaged in carrying railway equipment from ‘Nieke to Taimonta or from Taimonta to Konkoita’ with each party covering a return trek of around 24 kilometres.76 Pond’s party’s final agony came with the march to Nieke in early November 1943, which was a prelude to their movement back to Kanchanaburi. Once again there were instances of never-ending devotion to duty and service from some, and despair and physical collapse in the case of others. On 6 November 1943, Lance-Corporal John Roxburgh and Corporal Jim Kennedy witnessed both in their 2/29th Battalion. John Roxburgh: