The Japanese Farmer and Other Memories

Dad was a prisoner of war in the 1940’s for several years in Asia. Married for a week and then gone for nearly five years!  Soldiers elsewhere and other forces had returned home already. Together, with a cultural mix of soldiers, Dad and the remaining men were almost a forgotten cause in distant Japan, ( until September 1945?). Dads group had almost been lost sight of. Too remote and complicated a rescue project perhaps!  However, his letters and story of his life up to 1945, alluded to some improvements within his last year of captivity. 

Earlier, the International Army’s had been overwhelmed, (maybe wrong decisions made) in 

Singapore in 1942. The men were then marched to the Thai Jungle to build bridges and a long railway track, to connect with existing lines in a super quick period.-

Dad relates his story:

   “Eventually,  when we’d finally finished building the railway lines through the Thai.  jungle, rice being our main staple food throughout, the Japs decided to ship a few of us across to Shimoneski where an established engine components factory in association with a mine, functioned.  We had sensed changes afoot.

    In hindsight, the war had greatly diminished and in parallel, so had some of the attitudes of the controlling Japs. Several began to show more of a personal interest in contrast to previous years.  Parts of the surrounding community became quietly supportive, particularly after the Yankee planes had flown over and dropped many 44 galleon drums.   

    America was finally coming to our aid, (Britain finally paid off the war debt in 2016.) This was to be seen initially through their action in the dropping of these large 

drums, which contained toiletries including soap and much needed medical supplies, cigarettes, food, and clothing and ultimately our rescue.

   “ A week later a farmer arrived at our ‘camp’ driving his alamy or bullock and cart. Inside the simple strong wooden wagon were the remains from a broken sky-flung drum, which this stalwart farmer had rescued.”

   “This man from the country had travelled a long distance. He understood that the parachute had failed and the drum which had dropped into his paddy field, belonged to us.  He’d managed to extract the crumpled remains and placed the contents onto his well-used hardy alamy/cart.

    His motivation was extraordinary given the times.  I thought it wonderful that, in ‘his  state,’ he was, getting on in age, he’d taken it upon himself to travel the lengthy distance, to bring the contents of the metal drum to us. He more than contributed directly to our well-being. I’ll never forget this heart-felt gesture!

   Following this deliberate act of support, a bit of high jinks followed, played out after the 

distribution of cigarettes , remembering we had been through extreme challenges for over four years, living hand to mouth literally. One guy planted his bronzed face with fags. They hung from every nook and cranny!”

 Another recollection was when I came to be invited to share a bath with a local family. An 

image forever etched.

 There was a guard in charge of our group of a hundred men. And just after 7 a.m. after our usual rice breakfast,  we’d fall in and march out the gate. We walked towards the factory, a mile or two away beside a gorge of fast flowing water, partnered by a few houses each with their own little section of small gardens with dashes of bright clusters of flowers out front. This guard was an enthusiastic person. Over time we got to know each other. I had a smattering of Jap.  language under my belt.  We shared aspects of our lives including photographs of our families.    

One day he asked me if I would like to meet his family. Interestingly spring was approaching. I nodded and enthusiastically agreed. The following day on the way to work as we approached his house,  (we did ten day shifts, by the way), this guard said to me, ‘ my family are waiting to meet with you and show courtesy/teinei.’ We pulled aside from the group as they moved on.  (We caught up with them a little later.)

The sliding door was open on their front verandah;   his wife and three children, their ages 

roughly three, five, and seven years old, stood together and welcomed their father and I. As we neared,  he bowed to his ‘wife/okusan.’ She responded in like manner and the children/kodomo also. 

And then he held out his arm, referencing me. Here we all were, bowing and bobbing up and down. The guard appeared so delighted and proud. This practise went on for largely for the duration!

One of the many behaviours of this culture I also observed, was that of their cleanliness. 

Soap at this time was all but non -existent.  One day this guard/friend informed me quietly there was a Red Cross parcel,  for us. He then cautiously invited me to join him and his family for a bath. They were soap-less, but not for long! 

We had been dismissed this day. We’d had our showers followed by an evening meal. I carried a bar of soap in my pocket in readiness. A message came through for me to report to the guard’s room. 

A fellow soldier gave the Commander on duty a story, to cover my absence. This friendly guard signed me out to permit me to unofficially return to work. We had other plans. Instead we changed course and duly arrived and went around to the rear of his; the guards home.

Inside a forty- watt bulb swung casually from the ceiling. The large bathroom was full of steam. One could just make out the shape of an enormous container well over six feet high. Halfway up there was a platform with four steps. His wife gave me a saucepan attached to a short bamboo pole. I’ve got one at home in the garden. 

We all rinsed ourselves down first, before entering the huge bath together. There was a ledge inside for us all to sit on. We chatted together. They were interested in my family and how we lived back home in England. We finally got out and dried off and the chap/guard returned me. He was given a receipt and that was that. I thought then as I think now; how can one be an enemy with such a jolly happy man, his wife and three small children. I’ll never ever forget them!”