Vignettes of Life in a POW Camp
What follows is a series of short accounts of life as we experienced it in
the camps. The stories are not necessarily connected. They are memories
as they occur to me now. I hope that they will give the reader some idea
of what occupied the mind of the POW after long years of isolation from
the real world.
the camps. The stories are not necessarily connected. They are memories
as they occur to me now. I hope that they will give the reader some idea
of what occupied the mind of the POW after long years of isolation from
the real world.
They should also reveal what little it took to amuse us, and how, in what
leisure time we had, it was possible to do something to occupy our minds
and keep discouragement, despondency, and despair at bay.
leisure time we had, it was possible to do something to occupy our minds
and keep discouragement, despondency, and despair at bay.
I have related most of these stories in the "Bamboo Telegraph" over the
eight years in which I had the distinct pleasure of publishing it. I think they
deserve a place in these memories.
eight years in which I had the distinct pleasure of publishing it. I think they
deserve a place in these memories.
Softball
In North Point Camp, before the lack of protein weakened us, we used to
play softball on the square. I don't think we had any kind of formal
organization such as a league, and no records were kept, as far as I can
remember.
play softball on the square. I don't think we had any kind of formal
organization such as a league, and no records were kept, as far as I can
remember.
One day a heated exchange was taking place between our team and
another. The opposition was at bat, with bases loaded and no one out.I
was playing at first base and Arley Enright was playing short stop between
first and second. It looked as though we would get a thrashing.
another. The opposition was at bat, with bases loaded and no one out.I
was playing at first base and Arley Enright was playing short stop between
first and second. It looked as though we would get a thrashing.
The pitcher wound up, the batter wound up -- and connected! The ball
came off the bat straight at Arley.
came off the bat straight at Arley.
Barely moving, he caught the ball with his left hand, tagged the runner from
first who was running past him, stepped to second and caught the second
base runner trying to make it back to safety. A triple play!
first who was running past him, stepped to second and caught the second
base runner trying to make it back to safety. A triple play!
It all happened so fast that the opposition wouldn't believe it at first, and
wouldn't be convinced until the whole play was re-enacted. I think we
won that game!
wouldn't be convinced until the whole play was re-enacted. I think we
won that game!
Banging the Can
In North Point Camp, the Japanese guards used to sit outside their hut at
the gate and smoke and throw their butts into a tin can at their feet.
the gate and smoke and throw their butts into a tin can at their feet.
We were all smokers in those days, and after a few weeks in camp,
cigarettes were mighty scarce.
cigarettes were mighty scarce.
Some of the more daring, and perhaps more addicted among us, would
risk a beating by dashing in and picking butts out of the can. This was
called , "banging the can".
risk a beating by dashing in and picking butts out of the can. This was
called , "banging the can".
I know that those polite and clever chaps got great satisfaction out of
seeing the white man humble himself in front of them.
seeing the white man humble himself in front of them.
I never banged the can for a number of reasons, cowardice probably
foremost among them. Secondly, I found it hard, no matter how strong
the craving,to give them the satisfaction of laughing at me, and thirdly,
perhaps I wasn't hooked on nicotine as badly as some of my comrades. I
was only nineteen, and hadn't been smoking for very long.
foremost among them. Secondly, I found it hard, no matter how strong
the craving,to give them the satisfaction of laughing at me, and thirdly,
perhaps I wasn't hooked on nicotine as badly as some of my comrades. I
was only nineteen, and hadn't been smoking for very long.
Blackie's Punk Box
Not only were cigarettes hard to come by, but after a while matches also
were not available. Blackie McLeod solved the problem.
were not available. Blackie McLeod solved the problem.
Blackie got a small, flat can with a tight cover, one such as ointment used
to come in. In it he put a swatch of cotton, and burned it until it was
charred. Then he clapped the cover on it to extinguish the fire. He called it
a "punk box".
to come in. In it he put a swatch of cotton, and burned it until it was
charred. Then he clapped the cover on it to extinguish the fire. He called it
a "punk box".
Then, when he wanted a light for his fag, he would open the punk box,
and strike a piece of steel with a piece of stone over it until a spark
appeared in the charred cotton.
and strike a piece of steel with a piece of stone over it until a spark
appeared in the charred cotton.
Then he would blow on the spark until it glowed red. Then it was ready to
give a light to a cigarette. Then the cover was replaced, and the punk box
was ready for the next time someone wanted a light.
give a light to a cigarette. Then the cover was replaced, and the punk box
was ready for the next time someone wanted a light.
Blackie was very patient with everyone, never refusing to perform. He
was a quiet fellow. I don't remember ever hearing him say much. He
obviously had been around and had seen much of life before entering the
army. In the Royal Rifles, he was one of a kind.
was a quiet fellow. I don't remember ever hearing him say much. He
obviously had been around and had seen much of life before entering the
army. In the Royal Rifles, he was one of a kind.