Digger’s Story: Surviving the Japanese POW camps was just the beginning

by David

  There was much muttering and swearing from the group at this point, but Captain White, while expressing his sympathy with their feelings, insisted that these principles be agreed to. He asked all the men to complete and sign various documents.

  Just the usual army crap, thought Digger. As he signed the form, however, he couldn’t help wondering again whether his and Max’s activities had reached the ears of the Sathorn House hierarchy. Could that be the reason for this lecture?

  Finally, early on Saturday 22 September 1945, Digger set off with most of the party in two trucks. First they were to travel to Nakorn Pathom, a station on the railway around fifty-six kilometres north-west of Bangkok and just twenty-three kilometres from Nong Pladuk junction. From there, they would take trains north-west along the railway to Thanbyuzayat, in Burma.

  It was a long and boring day, not just because of the distance but because one of the trucks kept breaking down. At times Digger wished he had just said no and stayed with Max at the On-on Hotel. The previous night, Max had told him that – at long last – transport had been arranged for their group. He would be shipping to Singapore soon. And here was Digger, stuck on the back of a bloody truck, nursing a Thompson submachine gun and going back up the railway!

  As the trucks pulled up at the station, they were met by a rather anxious Captain White. He had travelled ahead earlier in the day with a small advance party. The trucks were three hours late.

  Digger and the group now met Lieutenant Nagase Takashi and the twelve Japanese guards who were to accompany them. Nagase was deferential and polite in manner towards Digger. Despite his feelings about the Japanese in general, Digger was determined to do his job, so he kept his feelings in check and greeted Nagase as politely as he could. He was a little bloke, not a lot more than five feet tall, but he was smart, as were most Japanese officers. Nagase said little at their first meeting, but Digger noticed that he spoke near perfect English.

  Digger was alarmed when he saw a steam engine hitched to two enclosed steel rice trucks. They were exactly the same as those into which he and his mates had been crammed for five long days on their journey from Changi to the railway. As he forced himself to look inside, he felt that he could smell the shit and the misery of that journey; the feelings of that experience would not leave his mind.

  The other train consisted of a large diesel truck with converted wheels to fit the rails pulling two attap-roofed and open-sided wagons. Here, the party would live, cook and sleep for the duration of the trip. Thank God for that, thought Digger.

  Nagase began ordering the twelve Japanese guards to work. They did all the heavy lifting, getting the stores and ammunition aboard the wagons. This was a marvellous turn-around, Digger thought. He was lounging back and the Japs were working hard. As it should be, he thought.

  Chapter 14

  The War Graves Commission

  The next two days were spent travelling up the railway, and the group arrived at Thanbyuzayat at three p.m. on 24 September 1945. Their plan was to search for the graves and then record their findings on the return journey.

  They had travelled during the day, spending their nights at camps and villages along the way. They slept on palliasses next to the armaments store in one of the attap-palm-covered trucks. The Japanese had guarded the party from dusk to dawn from attack by the dacoits, who would have dearly loved to get their hands on these supplies, particularly the weaponry.

  Several times along the way, the guards had prepared baths for the officers on the War Graves party, and had even entertained them at what had, until recently, been a Japanese ‘comfort house’. No such luxuries had been offered to the other ranks, of course. Usual officer perks, Digger had thought. Mind you, if I need anything from these bastards, I’ll just take it!

  Digger had been surprised at how quickly he’d adapted to being waited on and having to do no manual labour whatsoever. At the different camps along the railway, the local Japanese had cooked for the whole party.1

  A problem awaited them at Thanbyuzayat, the Japanese base camp at the Burmese end of the railway. It was only three weeks since the Japanese surrender, and there were still thousands of IJA soldiers in the area, all fully armed. Many were milling around on the area, curious at the party’s arrival, but no salutes were on offer here. This was in great contrast to the warm and deferential welcome from the Japanese at the rest stops during the journey.

  Lieutenant Nagase was sent to the local Japanese headquarters to confirm that full cooperation from the IJA command in this area would be forthcoming. In the meantime, the rest of the party did not know quite what to expect. All were very conscious of the fact that they numbered just sixteen, with only thirteen Japanese guards. And they, Digger realised, might well choose to side with the IJA, if a conflict erupted.

  The Japanese camp was a kilometre or so from the railway, so the War Graves party expected Nagase to return within two hours at the most. Their trains were moved to two parallel railway tracks in the yards at the end of the line. Captain Bruce was determined that nothing was going to keep him from searching for graves; all he required to proceed was confirmation from Nagase that the Japanese command here would cooperate.

  Four hours passed, and still Nagase had not returned. Captain Bruce decided to be patient and give Nagase time to accomplish his task. If the Japanese here had not received orders to cooperate, he realised, it would take some time to get a radio message to the right people, for decisions to be made, and to receive the orders back again.

  As darkness came, there was still no sign of Nagase. Now the War Graves party had no option but to wait and see what the morning would bring. This night, six of the Allied men, as well as the twelve Japanese, stayed on guard while the others tried to sleep.

  Early in the morning, Nagase finally returned to the train. He did not look well and appeared very nervous. He reported that the local command had no knowledge of this mission. No orders had been received to cooperate with the War Graves Commission party.

  Captain Bruce bristled at the news. He had been patient and reasonable, but this was not good enough. Here they were, on important War Graves Commission business – which would not even have been necessary had the Allied POWs been treated as they should have been – and now these bastards were refusing to cooperate! The one good thing, Captain Bruce figured, was that if the local Japanese command had wanted to be obstructive, they would have taken action. This had not happened, so he decided to ignore the Japanese and proceed with the mission.

  Captain Bruce, Digger and three others set off in the jeep for the cemetery. The Thanbyuzayat cemetery was only a few kilometres from the station, and quite close to the road. It took the group only ten minutes or so to find.

  Digger was left to guard the jeep, while the others disappeared through two-metre-high tiger grass along a path at right angles to the road. Well, he thought, it’s me against the Japanese army – that’s about the right odds! So he just relaxed, sat in the jeep and let his mind wander.

  After about half an hour, Digger began to nod off from the heat and the boredom. He suddenly realised that he could hear the sound of marching feet – many of them – together with the bark of commands in Japanese. He immediately stood up in the jeep and looked down the road to his left, towards Thanbyuzayat. He could see only empty road to the first bend, about a hundred metres away, but men were definitely approaching.

  Digger looked back to the path on which Captain Bruce and the others had set off and immediately considered abandoning the jeep before he was seen. Bruce reappeared from the tiger grass just as a Japanese battalion of about 1000 men appeared around the bend, six abreast and led by a high-ranking officer in dress uniform.

  Captain Bruce reached the jeep just as the soldiers approached. The battalion kept marching. As they passed, the Japanese officer raised his sword in salute and gave a smart ‘eyes right’ to Captain Bruce, who responded with a casual salute in return.

  Digger realised that this soldierly routine obvi
ously meant that cooperation would be forthcoming in future. Still, the method of conveying this information had obviously been intended to intimidate and create inconvenience. Captain Bruce resolved to report this faithfully. At present, however, he had to be content to order a complete clean-up of the area around the cemetery.

  After spending a couple of days identifying graves in the Thanbyuzayat area, the party gradually worked its way back down the railway line, stopping to look for burial places and noting the position of each and every grave of any Allied soldier. They found many, many graves, of Australians, Americans, Britons and Dutch.

  Where possible, individual graves were identified. The party left orders with the Japanese in each area to keep jungle vegetation clear, to maintain paths and gravesite crosses, and to retain and care for any other specific identification markers. In many places the Japanese had already received these orders, and local cemeteries either had already been cleared or were in the process of being cleared. In some areas the cemeteries had recently been decorated with crosses, flowers or shrubs. It appeared that orders were certainly being obeyed.

  Padre Babb noted in his diary how cooperative the Japanese were in maintaining the gravesites, and how courteous they were at the places where the War Graves party’s trains stopped – apart from at Thanbyuzayat.

  It would be unfair to conclude this diary without saying a word of praise for the Japanese cooperation. The ‘Civilian railway Nips’ both those in positions of authority and the rank and file, have obeyed orders implicitly and helped us more than we could have hoped for even in our wildest dreams. They saved us hours of toil and labour and were at all times polite and eager to do their best for us. If the same type of man had been dealing with us as prisoners, I am convinced that our lot would have been a happier one and many lives would have been saved.1

  Digger, however, did not agree with Babb’s interpretation. He believed the Japanese were indeed the same men in both situations – brainwashed to be totally obedient to the Emperor. This is why they had been so brutal as guards and why they were so helpful now. As Digger said to his mates in the group, ‘The same bastards that were belting the shit out of us one minute are wiping our arses the next!’

  At many of the cemetery sites along the railway, records were recovered that had been hidden in the graves. These documents invariably contained evidence of atrocities. There were diaries, drawings, photographs and even film, which had been secretly buried with the bodies of fallen comrades. The officers in the War Graves party had evidence of where this treasure was buried; indeed, some of the party had been present when these materials were buried.

  There were some amazing finds. Padre Babb wrote about a rubber plantation to which they were guided by Eddie Wheeler on 25 September 1945.

  We drew into the plantation and LAC Wheeler went off like a hare. The other members of the party followed with spades and cameras, he led us through the rubber trees and stopped at one tree and said, ‘here is the spot’. A cube of earth, size 2 ft, was dug, and bang in the centre of the base was the top of a small metal drum. We gaped with surprise for here was a fellow without maps or sketches hitting right on the exact spot of his buried treasure more than two years after he buried it! The drum contains 16 mm Cine films of conditions etc. of our prisoner of war life. We all hope they will develop well, for our people at home will be able to see and judge for themselves how we were treated since 1942.

  The Japanese were amazed, and no doubt a little worried, about the evidence the party was gathering about the conditions in the POW camps. Padre Babb noted that one officer’s ‘eyes almost shot out of his head’ as he watched the Allied team recover a four-gallon tin of records from the grave of Private M. W. Fraser of the 2/4th Machine Gun Battalion at Angannan Cemetery on 24 September 1945.2

  Digger gradually got to know Nagase, and discovered that he was also very worried. Being a Kempei, Nagase had attended many interrogations as interpreter and had witnessed some horrific tortures. He seemed eager to tell Digger of these experiences, although Digger did not really want to listen. It turned out that Nagase was very worried about being charged as a war criminal.

  At this time, Digger, like most ex-POWs, was completely incapable of forgiving any Japanese, especially any member of the Kempeitai. However, Nagase managed to explain that he had taken no part in any torture and had only been present as an interpreter. Digger had grave doubts about the truth of this. After all, the Kempeitai had held great authority, and others in the IJA feared them intensely.

  Even at this early stage in their acquaintance, Digger felt there was something different about this man. Rather guardedly, he advised Nagase that there was no way he could help him, but that helping the War Graves Commission should work in his favour. This advice seemed to do little to calm Nagase’s nervousness.

  When the party was searching for gravesites in the area around Nieke about 28 September 1945, they uncovered evidence of a particularly nasty incident, which Padre Babb reported in his diary.

  It was here a spot of bother reared its ugly head. For one Australian had died on July 22nd (1945 just 3 months previously) as a result of a hammer blow on the head, and Capt. White is determined to find out the Nip responsible for this. Capt. Omatsu who is i/c of this area was with us – a cruel looking fat faced Nip, the type typical of our POW days. He told us that the prisoners in the area in July 1945 had worked on air raid shelter construction and camp work. Capt. White asked him who was in charge of the camp and after much contradiction he said a cadet officer Tsono, who had since died of malaria.3

  Captain White’s determination to find the perpetrator of this crime was well documented over three pages of Padre Babb’s diary. Babb described the very thorough interviews that were conducted with anyone who could possibly have been involved in, or who might have known about, the incident. Unfortunately, he could not determine who the criminal was. White therefore decided to photograph possible suspects or witnesses, intending to show the pictures to ex-POWs from this area who might recognise the offender.

  Every member of the expedition had a job to do. Digger set up local clinics at all the stops along the railway. Word of these soon spread, and he was kept very busy with ulcers, malaria and the very common diarrhoea. He enjoyed what he was doing simply because, at long last, he had the necessary medicines. The local people were hugely grateful. He also treated members of his own group; a few still suffered bouts of malaria and the odd case of diarrhoea.

  Digger’s workload did not stop him from enjoying his newfound freedom, however; the novelty of being at liberty had not yet worn off. He and his new mates had plenty of opportunities to go exploring, which they often did early in the morning. Each man took a Thompson submachine gun, and off they went to explore the local area. They would wander into villages, talk to the kids who flocked around them, tramp through the bush and of course look out for anything they might be able to shoot or scrounge for the cooking pot. A favourite place to explore was any local Japanese camp, where they would go for the very simple but satisfying feeling of being in charge.

  If anyone asked where they were going, they would invariably reply, ‘Just tiger hunting.’ Their roaming around the local areas had not been envisaged by the War Graves organisers and may not have been within the rules of the expedition, but no one stopped them. Digger’s behaviour, manner and attitude on the trip had been enough to let everyone else know that he was his own boss, and would not take kindly to being told what he could or could not do. He saluted no one, spoke to the officers on an equal basis and just got on with his job of attending to the sick.

  Quite a few others in the group appreciated Digger’s way of thinking, which fitted in exactly with the way they felt. After so many years as POWs, they rejected all authority, including that of their own officers. And, as Digger explained, exploring was some reward for having given up their time to this War Graves Commission activity. Most of the officers would be rewarded through enhanced reputations. They would be me
ntioned in reports and perhaps promoted because of their work, but other ranks were generally excluded from this sort of recognition. In their minds, something more immediate was required. A little ‘tiger hunting’ fitted the bill nicely. They went ‘tiger hunting’ on 1 October 1945.

  I remember at Brenkasi, early one morning, ‘Sos’, ‘Mac’, the train driver, another couple of Japs and I went fishing. But we had no rods or lines – all we had were our Thompsons and a few Jap grenades. So the tigers were safe enough that morning. We wandered down a steep jungle track next to the railway, and out onto the east bank of the Kwae Noi River. There were great swimming holes and great fishing spots all along the bank.

  We came to a beautiful large pool that looked really deep. We all agreed it would be a beaut spot for fishing. So we just let the Nips get on with the job. But we had to take some precautions because we all knew about these Jap grenades. We took cover behind a big tree on the bank. I then signalled to the Japs to get on with the job.

  The driver, I think it was, just very casually stood on the bank at the edge of the water and pulled the pin on the grenade. Then he lifted one leg and banged the grenade on the heel of his boot before tossing it into the middle of the pool.

  Apparently, these grenades did not have a good reputation. They only operated correctly if they were struck after the pin was drawn – something to do with the mechanism, maybe, or perhaps it was just bravado on the part of the Japs. Of course, the gossip was that there were a large number of one-footed Japanese soldiers as a result, but I never saw one.

  The explosion wasn’t loud but it was very effective. A shower of water rose about four metres above the surface, and then slowly we saw the result as dead or stunned fish floated to the surface. The Japs stripped off and swam out to collect the fish of reasonable size. There was one beauty about two feet long. I borrowed the camera and took a photo when we got back.