Escape to Pagan

by Brian Devereux

  CHAPTER 15

  Caught by Surprise

  BURMA

  “It was a stifling hot morning without a breeze, at a time when the extreme heat coaxes the mind into drowsiness and distorts fluid reasoning, paralyzing the brain from instant reaction and quick judgments. I was sitting in the shade under the palm trees alone waiting for Mother to return, my mind idling. It was now so quiet and still. You were playing nearby in the shade of the palms with some stones. Suddenly I heard vehicles approaching from behind a cactus screen about a hundred yards away. I could not believe my ears. But when the sound grew louder, for some reason I thought they were British vehicles and did nothing. I just sat there.

  “Out of the dust cloud appeared a convoy of vehicles that came to a halt a short distance from where I was sitting. It was only after the dust had settled that I noticed to my horror, that some of the trucks were flying the Japanese flag. Before I could do anything, you where running towards the trucks. My mother rushed back when she heard the approach of the convoy. Then to our relief, Indian soldiers and their families climbed down from the trucks. The Indian soldiers carried weapons and stayed by the vehicles. One of the well-dressed Indian women walked up to my mother and said they were stopping for a rest in the shade and to cook some food. But first they needed water. My mother told them about the spring in the rocks. The woman spoke to Mother in Hindi and said they were returning to Loikaw, where they had once lived before the war. But first they were going to an Indian village to pick up some respected and important people who feared an imminent attack from Burmese dacoits. She also confirmed that the British had retreated across the Chindwin and the Japanese were now in full control of Burma.

  “My mother said the Indian lady asked why we were wearing Burmese clothes and living here. My mother said we were Portuguese and had lost all our possessions in the bombing of Rangoon. We had to buy Burmese clothes as nothing else was available and we were now heading for Moulmein to be with relatives. This was an important answer as it turned out these people were from the Congress party of India that was anti-British. My mother also told the truth that masquerading as Burmese protected us from the attention of dacoits.

  “By this time you were playing with their children. The Indian women were quite taken by you and your friendliness. One of the married women said to my mother that if we were finding it difficult looking after you she would include you into her family and pay us in rupees. Mother said you were her last surviving grandson after the bombing. These women must have felt sorry for our pathetic little group and offered us a lift in one of the end trucks carrying their possessions. Mother accepted as they were going further into the dry belt and it would save us all that walking. We collected all our possessions and climbed into a covered truck at the end of the convoy that contained mostly furniture and carpets. The Indian soldier guarding the truck helped us take the pram aboard and we waited until everybody was ready to move off. Unfortunately we had no time to collect the hidden rice. During that time a civilian car appeared from behind us and slowed down as it went past.

  “’My God!’ said my mother – ‘it is full of Japs.’ We had no option but to stay where we were and prayed we would not be discovered. When the Indian soldiers and their families had finished eating, the convoy moved off. We passed many Burmese villages displaying small Japanese flags during the journey. In the afternoon after a long dusty drive we stopped at a small red brick built town.

  “Several people passed the lorry wearing tall hats. Mother said they are Parsees. The Parsees were a wealthy Indian religious sect; owning most of the land in Burma. They were also the main money lenders. This of course made them very unpopular with the Burmese who often had to sell their land to the Parsees in order to pay their debts legally through the British courts.

  “At the side of the road there were several Indian market stalls selling food and other items. Some Burmese people were also present. The Indian soldiers began walking around the food stalls, leaving the drivers to guard the trucks. We seemed to have been forgotten. After a while my mother climbed down and had a good look around. It was then that she noticed the car of Japanese officers had been leading the convoy. Everyone it seems, including the Japanese, had left the convoy and had walked into the town. My mother came back and said we should leave immediately. We struggled to get the pram down and then made our escape down a small narrow lane. As we walked further down the lane we came upon a larger market.

  “’We desperately need aspirin and medical supplies,’ said my mother. All the drugs looted from the British were now being sold openly in the market. I begged my mother not to go, but she said this could be our last chance to obtain drugs, drugs that could save our lives in the future. She pointed to some trees in the distance and told me to wait there and not move. I was always afraid when my mother left us but I did as I was told. Putting you in the pram I headed towards the trees on the outskirts of the town and waited in the shade nervously. Thank God we were dressed as Burmese.

  “The trees were full of sweet, ripe mulberries, scattered on the ground. I started to pick fruit off the trees and gave some to you, you loved them; the rest I kept for later. It was too messy to sit under the mulberry trees so I went a little further and sat in the shade of a banyan tree waiting for my mother. I was getting worried.

  “It was then I became aware of a terrible smell. Soon after a procession of Parsees came out of the town dressed in white and wearing their strange hats; they were carrying something. Suddenly the sky was filled with vultures that quickly descended and settled on the tall trees nearby. The terrible stink was getting worse.

  “I was so relieved when my mother returned. She had brought lovely Indian milk sweets, chapattis, some thick string, a tin of Andrews liver salts; antiseptic cream and a carton of aspirin tablets. But the best buy of all was some scented Pears soap. ‘Quick, hurry, we must leave,’ said my mother. Keeping to the path that led out of the town, we walked towards a line of trees. All the vultures had disappeared but we could still hear them squabbling. Nearing the trees the smell grew worse, yet we needed the trees as cover in case we were spotted leaving the town. Once we reached the line of trees, the path ahead led past a tall white building that had no roof or windows. The smell became overwhelming but we were afraid to leave the path. We hurried past just taking a quick look through the open doorway of the white building. Even my mother was shocked at what we saw. Dead bodies wrapped in white cloth were lying on the floor; vultures were tearing at their faces and the white material that covered them. There were also clean-picked human skeletons everywhere. Some of the new corpses had no eyes or eyelids: the first things eaten by the vultures. Other bodies were only partially eaten and seemed to be moving their arms as the vultures tore at them. The Parsees did not believe in burying their dead.

  “We crossed ourselves and your forehead then quickly left. I threw the mulberries away and could not eat for days because of the smell and the taste in my mouth. It was still the hottest time of the year. My mother had filled the tin water container at the Parsee village; even though I was thirsty I only took one small sip. The smell and the taste of the water reminded me of all those dead bodies covered by fighting vultures. I did not drink again that day. Your grandmother said the Parsees were a very hygienic race; not burying their dead was part of their religion. I still could not drink. When I was finally forced to drink the water from the Parsee well (because I was breastfeeding you), I tasted dead bodies.

  “Out of the village boundaries and the cultivated areas, we now found ourselves back in the scrub jungle of the dry belt. The calling of peacocks warned us that night was imminent. My mother began to look for a suitable place to spend the night. The following day we awoke to the call of the peacocks and set off early without breakfast. At around midday, the heat was so intense we were forced to find shelter in the shade of a large bush but had to keep moving every hour or so in order to stay in its shadow. While you and my mother dozed I kept watch.

/>   “When my mother woke we noticed dark clouds gathering in the far distance. ‘The monsoon will soon be here,’ my mother said, ‘we must hurry. All the chaungs will be impossible to cross once flooded; we must continue in the cool of the evening and find safe shelter before the monsoon arrives.’

  “We kept you in the pram to avoid any delays, and dressed you in a long silk chemise that once belonged to one of the De Souza girls, and put a bonnet on your head. We both pulled and pushed the pram using the string my mother had bought from the market. Shady trees were now becoming rare; wood for the fire was also scarce so we slept without a fire that night.

  “At around noon the following day we could walk no longer, there was no shade to be found. We placed a blanket over the pram and sheltered under it. Before we realized it, a large group of wild looking people were approaching us. Most of the men and the elders were mounted on small Shan Ponies. The women were leading draught animals that were laden with their belongings. All the men were tattooed on their legs, arms and bodies and carried the Burmese dahs in their belts; some carried rifles.

  “My mother got up and approached one of the elderly women sitting on a pony and spoke to her in village Burmese; pointing to you in the pram, she asked for water. The old woman said they were short of water themselves. The Burmese are generally fond of children and a long discussion took place. I thought they were discussing whether to kill and rob us. Finally the elderly woman took out a water container and carefully poured half a small coconut shell for each of us. Mother asked where the nearest water was to be found and if the Japanese were near. The tribeswomen pointed and told her that there was a village nearby. The tribespeople then continued their journey.

  “This group of rough tribespeople looked like dacoits or opium traders to me. My mother thought they were a Chin tribe who had left their village because of the war and were trying to escape to the Yomas Hills far to the west. We turned and headed for the village in the direction the tribeswomen had pointed, but by nightfall we still hadn’t found it. We had to stop for the night in the open again. As usual, we spread a waterproof sheet on the ground and covered ourselves with two blankets. I always made sure the blankets were well tucked under us as snakes and scorpions were known to seek the warmth of sleeping humans.

  “If it were not for the mango showers that came the following day we may have died of thirst. Having filled our containers we continued on our journey and came across some tomari bushes [Chinese gooseberries]. We spread our blankets over these bushes and rested in the shade. The following day the mango showers began in earnest and we laid out all our vessels to collect as much water as possible. When one filled up we drank it and placed it out again. We also washed ourselves in the rain. These mango showers were not as heavy as they were in Taunggyi. You used to sit naked and play in the puddles like an urchin. These showers continued and deep puddles appeared, sometimes containing the larva of mosquitoes, tadpoles and even tiny fish. I was so happy we could wash ourselves every day with soap. We still could not find the village in question so my mother decided we should just head towards the distant hills and hope to find shelter. Sleeping outside would be out of the question when the rains began. The rain had flooded out many of the venomous creatures that lived in holes in the ground. Scorpions and centipedes were scurrying around, even during the day, which was very dangerous, so I carried you everywhere; a sting or a bite could easily have killed you.

  “We were forced to move to higher ground and by the afternoon were all very hungry and stopped to cook food. Dry tinder was a problem. It was while your grandmother was poking around looking for dry twigs underneath the bushes to light a fire, that she saw and killed a large and beautiful Russell’s viper. I would never eat snakes knowingly but it was sometimes difficult to ascertain what was in my mother’s dishes; snake looked a lot like fish. I thank God none of us were bitten. While we were interned at Tada u, Maureen James, an Anglo-Indian girl who used to be a nurse, worked for the Japanese in the admin building. She told us there were several deaths due to snake bite among the many Japanese troops who went out on patrol. All the anti-venom in Burma was commandeered by the Japanese who ruined it by not storing it at the correct temperature. As a result many Japanese soldiers died despite receiving the anti-venom injection. Believing it to be ineffective the Japanese doctors at Tada u stopped using it.”

  CHAPTER 16

  The Lisbon Maru is Attacked

  EAST CHINA SEA

  On board the Lisbon Maru that morning, just before the Grouper’s attack, those men who managed to sleep for a short while woke up and wondered what the new day would bring. The dysentery suffers who still tenaciously clung on to their dignity, hoped they would be allowed access to the swaying heads to relieve themselves before the stabbing pain in their contorted innards became unbearable. These men did not wish to add to the already soiled water splashing on their comrade’s legs in No 2 hold. They waited. Perhaps their captors were not ready for a good laugh yet? Maybe the sea was not rough enough to cause a weak squatting prisoner to lose his balance and fall into the jaws of the waiting shark below. Perhaps the shark was late?

  Other prisoners lying in the filth were too weak and remained silent, they did not have the energy to ponder on points of dignity or be angry at their situation; they just accepted their fate. Atropos, who cuts the threads of life, stood silent at their sides, waiting.

  Where Sergeant Devereux was in No 2 hold at this time or what his physical condition was, is unknown. Mother always tended to skip past the unpleasant incidents. Perhaps the Sergeant never told her the whole truth regarding the conditions, or the whole story about the sinking. But there must have been a reason why he always bit his nails to the quick after the war. My mother, sister and I never fully appreciated dad’s ordeals in full measure: how could we?

  If the scenes that were soon to play out on the Lisbon Maru were similar to the other POW hell ships like the Avsan Maru, the Byoke Maru or the Oryoku Maru that were also torpedoed on their way to Japan, dad would have good reason to exclude these details from mother. Some POWs on the above ships, when driven by indescribable thirst and the resulting madness that accompanies it, killed the weak and dying to drink their blood. The insane had to be killed with bare hands by the sane. Acts of cannibalism in dark recesses were carried out by small groups of starving prisoners.

  The hungry men in their cramped stinking holds swore like only sailors and soldiers can swear. They rubbed their aching sinewy limbs and cursed their living purgatory and then cursed those above them, who enforced it.

  The prisoners in No 3 hold (Gunners) suddenly heard a gurgling noise on the other side of the ship’s plating. It was believed this new noise came from the ships faulty propeller. In No 2 hold they heard what they described as swishing noises. The men in both these holds continued to discuss what these noises might be; perhaps the ship’s engines were playing up? Not one of the prisoners in No 3 or No 2 holds came up with the right answer. This was not the case with the sailors in No 1 hold. These old salts knew exactly what the sound was: torpedoes! If there were a few doubting Thomases present, they were soon convinced as the second torpedo skimmed just below the ship’s hull. The sailors listened to its passage, wide-eyed. The third fish (torpedo) removed all doubts when it struck the bow right by No 1 hold; luckily it did not explode. The sailors inside this hold could only pray.

  Shortly afterwards above decks, Captain Shigeru gave the alarm: “Torpedo attack!” The enemy crew raced for the guns on deck; the lookouts soon spotted the submarine some 6,000 yards distant. The ship’s heavy gun opened fire. According to the Captain of the Lisbon Maru, he took evasive action, which caused the second fan of torpedoes to miss his ship, and then began to zigzag his course to confuse the attacker. In actual fact all the following torpedoes fired by Grouper were faulty or had run too deep.

  On board the Grouper another three more torpedoes were fired from the forward tubes.

  “Torpedoes running fast and straight
sir,” the tracker reported. After two minutes and ten seconds total silence, more misses. The periscope was raised, the target was slowly changing course and was hoisting a distress flag. The ship continued firing inaccurately at Grouper with its heavy deck gun.

  At 8.45am Commander McGregor in desperation fired two more torpedoes set to the depth of only six feet. After a long wait an explosion. The Lisbon Maru received its death blow. While Commander McGregor was watching the ship through binoculars, a lookout spotted a Japanese bomber coming straight at them. The Grouper had no option but to crash-dive. The crew of the submarine took evasive action and prepared the boat for depth charge attack, then waited in silence, their hearts pounding as they contemplated their possible fate. Dying slowly of suffocation in darkness on the bottom of the sea bed was not a thought to linger on. This was the Grouper’s second and largest kill. Slowly the Lisbon Maru stopped and began to list.

  Shortly after diving, the submarine’s electric motors were used to leave the scene of attack: she was now the hunted. Not long after, the crew of the submerged submarine heard three depth charges exploding near her pressurised hull; their excitement turned to fear. Each man aboard the submarine confronted his own personal fears. Some visualized capture and kneeling on the deck of an enemy destroyer, a naked blade descending.

  Back on board the Lisbon Maru the prisoners heard noises at the hatches. The men below believed that the Japanese sailors were opening the hatches to let them out. In fact the Japanese were reinforcing the hatches with timbers and lashing tarpaulins over the top to keep them in. This action was a deliberate effort to suffocate or drown the helpless men below. Lieutenant Wada the Japanese Army Interpreter did not want any survivors or witnesses.