Decisive Darkness: Part One – Majestic

by Paul Hynes

  This attitude was unacceptable to the Thai populace, made all the more so by the increasing dread spread by rumours that the Americans were going to use their new Atomic Bombs on Thailand to open up the Burmese front for their Commonwealth Allies, and the more confident public expressions of anti-Japanese sentiment stirred up by charismatic figures such as Pridi Banomyong. Action had to be taken, and the men and women of the Free Thai Movement were not about to disappoint.

  In the meantime, the economic life of French Indochina was rapidly deteriorating. After the cessation of communication with France and the elimination of Singapore, Hong Kong, and the United States as trade partners, Japan, which had filled only three per cent of French Indochina's total trade in 1938, was the only trade partner. Whilst this had picked up between 1942 and 1943, by fall of 1945, the allied advances and massacre of the Japanese merchant fleet left Indochina having to make do with what her people could produce domestically, and what would be left after the collection of resources by the Japanese.

  Rice, fuel, and oil were in great demand. Rubber plants were said to be indiscriminately cut down. In some areas, jute replaced rice planting. In Cochinchina, rice was used to produce fuel oil. Forests deteriorated because of the Japanese demand for lumber to construct boats for transporting Japanese soldiers along the coast to China in case of an enemy landing. This was followed by floods and crop failures, and Tonkin suffered a drastic shortage of rice. This situation was further aggravated by the breakdown in rice shipments from Cochinchina due to the paralysis of the transportation system from American bombing, malnutrition cast a shadow over the land, as famine loomed.

  On September 5th, the Free Thai Movement struck at the very heart of the 150,000 Japanese stationed in the country. Under the guise of an urgent message, the Japanese commanders in Bangkok found themselves assassinated by members of the Free Thai Movement dressed as Policemen. Japanese troops in the city were either arrested or shot out of hand as outside the city the lines of transport and communication were quickly secured by troops emerging from the countryside and from miniature forts disguised as air raid shelters. Now installed as Prime Minister, Pridi wasted no time in first renouncing the alliance with the Japanese and then further issuing a declaration of war against their former allies. Whilst more numerous, the blind and beheaded Japanese garrisons were easy prey for the vast guerrilla army that now emerged. 90,000 strong, with their own aircraft and artillery, the Free Thai Movement would no longer simply be involved in hiding American prisoners and negotiations across the ocean, but as the sword of Thai nationalism, the only country to liberate itself from the Japanese yoke.

  Ho Chi Minh’s guerrillas were not far behind however, the Thai rising to their west, and the Soviet invasion of Manchuria to their north, had made it clear both to them and the 30,000 Japanese troops in Indochina that their war was almost over. General Consul Masao Ishida, the man who had effectively governed Indochina since March, was not driven by the code of Bushido, but that of diplomacy, and his far more rational view of the world allowed him to arrange a truce between the Japanese and the Viet Minh, and provide an offer he believed the Vietnamese would find hard to refuse. In exchange for an unmolested retreat out of Indochina, Japanese forces would grant a large amount of armaments to the Viet Minh, hand over control of all French weapons and personnel, and perhaps most importantly, pledge to hold the Kuomintang back for as long as they could. “Uncle Ho” who would rather see the Japanese escape than have them be wiped out only for a new set of occupiers then to arrive, accepted, and as the Japanese were already concluding their handover, the Viet Minh launched their liberation “offensive”, in early October.

  As the Japanese had swept over Indonesia in the final days of 1941 and the early months of 1942 they were undoing over a century of Dutch colonial rule, an oppressive regime that had maintained their rigid social and ethnic apartheid imposed by Dutch elites even after the Netherlands itself had been conquered by Japan’s German allies. Their advance was met with cheers and joyous celebration from the Indonesian peoples in many areas as their former masters were forced to flee against an Asian people, a race they had deemed inferior for decades.

  The Dutch had planned to take several imprisoned leaders of the small Indonesian nationalist movements with them as they retreated towards Australia, fearing that in Japanese hands they might become effective collaborators, however the Japanese advanced so quickly that they were forced to abandon their prisoners as they embarked across the Pacific to their new safe haven. It was not long before the Japanese found their prisoners, and that their fears were proven to be correct.

  Kusno Sosrodihardjo, better known as Sukarno, was the most prominent amongst these, having led the Indonesian nationalist movement against Dutch colonial rule the Twenties and Thirties. He had first envisioned Japan as the enabler of Indonesian independence in the late twenties, and when found at Sumatra, he greeted the Japanese in the same way that many of his compatriots had, proclaiming, "Independent Indonesia can only be achieved with Dai Nippon”, agreeing to work with the Japanese to fulfil that goal. With every good intention, he began to pave his road.

  Despite their proclamations of pan-Asian liberation, the execution of Japanese war plans required that Southeast Asia fulfil particular roles, with Indonesia being no exception. Japan needed the area's natural resources and manpower, without which the continuation of her war in China would not be possible; this meant the exploitation of the area's people. The contradiction between Japanese "liberation theory” and their colonial practice would haunt Sukarno throughout the next three years, as the Japanese progressively forced hundreds of thousands of Indonesians to forced labour in horrific conditions, ensuring that the Japanese war effort was maintained. Many who lived in areas considered important to the war effort experienced arbitrary arrest, torture, or beatings for acts of miscommunication, a problem exacerbated by the large differences in Japanese and Indonesian culture. This led to many, often very public, executions. As resources flowed out of Indonesia, so did the islands food, as many sold themselves into effective slavery to eat. For women this often meant forced prostitution after accepting unspecific forms of ‘work’.

  Helping to oversee the appalling atrocities against his people, Sukarno could only comfort himself that the 100,000 European, mostly Dutch, civilians, and the 80,000 Allied prisoners on the islands had it far worse than his countrymen. Most languished in rat infested Concentration Camps with minimal living arrangements. Most occupants were barely fed and wore their clothes until they fell off, the men working long hours of forced labour whilst the women often found themselves becoming ‘Comfort Women’ for the military. Occupants suffered from lack of medical attention, and many died of Beriberi, Cholera, and Dysentery with others taking their own lives as their children were put into separate camps until they grew old enough to work.

  Whilst his former masters suffered, he grew increasingly frustrated that his new colleagues were not the harbingers of independence that he had heralded them as. Though he had some sympathy within the Indonesian occupation forces, the navy was keen to keep over Japanese control in place for the duration of the war, lest Indonesian independence complicate their use of Indonesian resources and labour. Whilst the Japanese had helped spread nationalist propaganda as a means of contrasting themselves with the Dutch they had been hesitant to allow any meaningful political or institutional movements that might further Indonesian independence. The most prominent was the Pembela Tanah Air or PETA, meaning [i] Defenders of the Homeland[/i], a collection of military formations made up of Indonesians that the Japanese had established in case of an Allied invasion, though they numbered almost 70,000 men, they were under strict Japanese supervision. However as the war worsened and PETA officers began to agitate for greater autonomy, the Japanese became more open to providing incentives for continued Indonesian collaboration. The Committee for Preparatory Work for Indonesian Independence was formed in March 1945 and quickly transformed into a constitutiona
l convention, with Sukarno presenting a draft constitution on July 15th. With the Philippines lost and Indonesia becoming increasingly unstable the Supreme War Council in Tokyo had agreed to grant Indonesian independence on the 7th of September 1945. As Sukarno, and his members of the committee travelled to Saigon to be informed on the news, an Atomic Bomb fell upon Hiroshima.

  When he returned he was informed by the younger, more radical members of the nationalists of the momentous events that had taken place whilst he had been in Saigon, of the new weapon the Americans had now used to destroy two Japanese cities, and Soviet invasion of Manchuria that was devastating the Japanese army. They had heard from listening to western broadcasts that Japan planned to surrender in a few hours and urged him to declare independence immediately. Sukarno refused, wary of a bloodbath that might come from leading an armed revolution against the Japanese occupiers before the Allies could arrive, a battle that might sap the strength of Indonesian forces when the Dutch inevitably returned. Frustrated with his relaxed nature, he was abducted by more radical elements the next day, being held under captivity when his captors heard of the new Anami government, and their determination to continue the war.

  The events that followed are unclear, though it seems that the Japanese governor of Indonesia, Moritake Tanabe, had gotten word of the Anami coup as well as the disappearance of Sukarno after he was last seen with the more militant leaders of his fellow nationalists. Refusing to believe that his was coincidence, he presumed that Sukarno had disappeared to lead a widespread revolt after hearing news of the change in Japanese government. After locating where he was being held, Japanese troops opened fire on his captors and the surprised Sukarno. By the time the smoke had cleared from a vicious shoot-out, the figurehead of Indonesian independence lay choking on his own blood as it poured into the soil.

  The fact that the now deceased abductee had been held in official PETA building only worsened Tanabe’s concerns, as he ordered that the individual Brigades be disarmed and arrested. The Japanese moved quickly, and managed to largely complete this task with the element of surprise, neutralising what might have otherwise been a powerful Guerilla force. Nonetheless some did disappear, alongside an increasing number of ordinary citizens, as printing presses prepared to unveil a declaration of independence now waved the bloody shirt of Sukarno’s “assassination”, provoking attacks against Japanese soldiers and citizens that devolved into riots, only for these uprisings to be crushed soon after in the cities, and to dissipate into furthering instability in the countryside.

  Months passed, and the brutal military rule continued, no longer able to ship Indonesian resources to the Asian mainland in the wake of the destruction Japan’s merchant fleet and the British invasion of Singapore, Tanabe brought about a lessening of the harsh slave labour policies of the past occupation. Nonetheless he had remained ignorant of the promised independence as the disorganised but numerous national forces waged a guerrilla war against the Japanese, a war Tanabe and his fellow officers grew increasingly tired of as they heard of the Soviet invasion of Hokkaido and battle raging in Kyushu. They questioned why fate had left them with tens of thousands of equipped and trained troops fighting to maintain control of territory that had been rendered useless whilst old men and children were throwing themselves at enemy tanks, but without any significant mode of transportation, and Allied naval dominance, they seemed doomed to be spectators of Japan’s climactic battle, until a way out seemingly emerged.

  Whilst much of the world had reacted with horror at the revelation of the Changi massacres, the Japanese on Indonesia now saw an opportunity. They had far larger numbers of European prisoners and civilians under their control and whilst they had been used as slaves before, they would now become leverage. On December 1st Tanabe sent a Lord Louis Mountbatten, in overall control of Allied Forces in South East Asia with an offer. He and his men would surrender Indonesia to the Allies, if they would in turn be assured transportation to the Japanese Home Islands to take part in the fight for Kyushu. Until they replied in the affirmative, he would execute 100 Allied civilians and prisoners each day. He did not expect Mountbatten to accept, or even seriously consider his offer, provided that it would require Allied ships literally reinforcing their enemy. However, if he could provoke an Allied invasion of Indonesia, perhaps he could divert from resources from the Kyushu front, thus contributing in some small way to Japan’s Decisive Battle.

  Whilst he and his fellow officers awaited the Allied response, the guards of the camps began the process of extermination. In order so as not to provoke rebellions, it was resolved that the extermination ‘countdown’ would focus solely on one camp at the time. The first of those to go where the most useless, those too weak or ill to work, for though s the general situation had worsened this criteria became all the more common amongst the interned civilians and prisoners of war. Though even amongst the weakest, there was always a weaker, and in this way, the situation was no different from any other pattern of tragedy in the many catastrophes that human history had suffered.

  Ambarawa was a work camp for making rope. Based in central Java it mainly contained woman and children, those less able to the do hard labour of the men. Nonetheless work was still expected, no matter how menial. By late November the situation became so bad that food or medicine were so scarce that not many people were able to work. There were others who simply refused to abandon their seriously ill relatives or spouses. Others who were numb to beatings and threats after over three years of such torment, had simply given up, leaving their children and other dependents to fend for themselves.

  Hard labour had always had very high casualty rates, with little concern for safety or welfare it had become commonplace when many taken out to work simply did not come back. This had been the plan of the armed men who had arrived in trucks to take those out to ‘work’. Some did indeed go, under the belief that work might mean food. Some refused, only to be shot on sight. Those too sick, or too lost in their nightmares were often dragged.

  And so the process began.

  As news of the countdown began to spread there was an outrage across the western world. The slaughter was seen as worse in many ways, than the earlier Changi massacre for the fact that this slaughter was so systematic in its process and in its targets. Though the Anami government gave no response, affirmative, or negative to the actions taking place in Indonesia, the leaders of the three main western powers fighting in the Pacific found themselves being presented with options.

  The British government, still embroiled in sweeping up the last elements of Japanese resistance in Malasyia, found themselves too overextended to launch an offensive on their own, with much of their Pacific fleet committed either to Majestic or Zipper. For the United States this problem was much the same, with all resources committed to the final victory against the Home Islands, Indonesia was of low strategic priority for as long as the Japanese fleet remained at the bottom of the ocean.

  For some however, there were no other priorities. Whilst in war the needs to individuals can often be swept up in the vast canvass of logistics and tactics, the actions, the motivations, of individuals desperate for vengeance can, every now and then, further the suffering of millions.

  Though No. 18 Squadron RAAF operated in Australian uniforms and with American Lend Lease aircraft, it was in many ways a Dutch squadron, being made up most of Dutch airmen who had successfully escaped the Japanese advance into the Dutch East Indies. Though their ground crew were Australian, their aircraft bore the Dutch flag and they were commanded by a Dutch officer. They had arrived at Balikpapan in Borneo on July 1945, shortly after the liberation of the island by Australian troops. In the preceding months the squadron's main task was to drop propaganda leaflets and locate and drop supplies to Allied personnel in prison camps throughout Indonesia. A relatively simple task in comparison to their many raids against Japanese shipping in Papua New Guinea, and one that now became intolerably frustrating for the squadron commander, Lieutenant Colonel J
essuen as he heard of the Japanese declarations. Like many other pilots and ground crew in his base, he had relatives, friends, people he had reassured that everything was going to be alright by the leaflets he had been commissioned to drop. Now he would drop something else.

  Of the 11,000 Mustard Gas Bombs that Australia had in her possession, he had access to several hundred. It had been a natural Allied precaution to have stockpiles of chemical weaponry ready to be used in case of an Axis sneak attack, and with the threat of invasion gone, the Australians had often done the same. Despite their widespread use of gas against the Chinese, there was no evidence to point to the Japanese ever using chemical weapons against the western Allies. It was this fact that Jeussen was relying on as he personally led his Dutch B-25’s over the Sixteenth Army Headquarters on the outskirts of Batavia. He knew he would be court-martialled, if not shot, for his belligerence, he could only hope that during this Christmas period, Tanabe wouldn’t be wearing a Gas Mask when his special gifts came down on top of him.

  Tanabe had instinctively retreated to the cellar as the distinctive Allied planes flew up ahead. Air raids had not been uncommon in Java, especially in the wake of the Australian victories in Borneo and retreating calmly to the nearest place of safety had become second nature to any Japanese officer in Indonesia. As he heard the crumps around him he grew concerned, as the bombs fell nearer and nearer he had to wipe the soot from his khakis as he waited out the raid with as much patience as a man who knows he isn’t entirely in control of his surroundings can muster.