Chapter 5
Prisoners of War - 1943
Sham Shui Po Camp, January, 1943
A number of concerts and slightly better food marked the arrival of a new year for the POWs. Padre Laite celebrated Holy Communion on New Year’s Day in one of the Canadian hospital wards. Among the twenty-one patients attending was Signalman Ernie Dayton, from Chilliwack, B.C. [603] On January 6, the camp was mustered for inspection by a Japanese General[604] and two days later a new camp commandant was in charge. That morning there was an early muster parade, with the whole camp formed up for counting and recounting, a process that took about two hours.[605] Canadian strength at the time in Sham Shui Po was 63 officers and 1360 O.R.s.[606]
Around this time the prisoners were permitted to write another letter home, although it’s unknown when the Japanese allowed the mail to leave camp.[607] Don Beaton wrote to his parents summarizing the latest events, at least those the censors would permit him to tell about.
Just a line to say hello and let you know I am in the best of health and hoping this finds all the family the same.
Since my last letter we have received a red cross parcel which was very much appreciated.
Christmas and New Years have just passed and under the circumstances we had a very pleasant time. We each received a money gift of ten yen that was sent to us by the “People of Canada.”
Must close now. Love and regards to all.[608]
It must have been some time before the letter left Hong Kong. The envelope was postmarked in Canada on December 4, 1943, about eleven months after it was written.
We had learned the dialectic of rumours by now. The good ones faded, the bad ones came true. This one sounded bad, we were to be shipped to Japan.…
We lined up for a fitness test – we must be able to work in Japan. We were each instructed to walk across the road. Those who made it were pronounced physically sound, A-1 category. Even Blacky, who dragged himself across with a cane passed with honours. (Will Allister)[609]
On Monday, January 11, a special muster parade was held and the men were divided into either A or B class, the former group being those selected for the draft going to Japan.[610] All those in A were further sorted into groups of fifty, with each of these sections assigned an N.C.O. to be in charge.[611] About 1200 prisoners were selected, 663 of them Canadians, including one officer, Capt. John Reid of the Medical Corps.[612] Eleven of the thirty-two men from Brigade Headquarters were members of the R.C.C.S.: Bob Acton, Will Allister, Johnny Douglas, Gerry Gerrard, George Grant, Jim Mitchell, Don Penny, Art Robinson, Jack Rose, Lee Speller and Blacky Verreault.[613] Ray Squires had passed the “walk across the road” medical test, but was taken off the draft by one of the medical officers because of his ongoing work in the hospital.[614] Being selected prompted some anxiety:
You didn’t know whether it was going to be for better or worse. I couldn’t see it being any better, because you had to figure that food-wise it couldn’t be that great in Japan, we sure weren’t going to get our share, and just before we left there was a supply of Red Cross that came in.… (Gerry Gerrard)[615]
I was apprehensive about going because I knew that the Americans by now would have lots of submarines built. (Jim Mitchell)[616]
My imagination was awhirl with lurid images, anxieties, excitement with a dark amorphous dread that was overpowering. What did I know about Japan? Madam Butterfly? The Mikado? Dream imagery, fantasy. It couldn’t be any worse, the optimists said, there was no future here, only more illness and death – at least a change held out hope. If we get there, the pessimists added. But this wouldn’t be Madam Butterfly stuff. It was a land that produced these guards, these brutal, sadistic fanatics who looked on death as a piece of cake. (Will Allister)[617]
For the next week the selected men went through highly organized preparations, including throat swabs and other medical examinations. They were vaccinated for cholera, dysentery and typhoid and were subjected to stool tests which consisted of having a glass rod inserted into the rectum.[618] The group was isolated from the rest of the camp in an area protected by barbed wire and sentries. On January 17 the men were called out for parade and given greatcoats and running shoes, but “[they] took all our boots away.”[619] Finally, on January 19, the preparations were complete. Each man was given ten yen in Japanese military currency[620] and at 0730 hours the draft marched out of camp, all wearing their new rubber running shoes. They were quiet at first, “until we started to sing & then we let our feelings go.”[621] For Gerry Gerrard, the day had special significance: it was his twenty-first birthday. The usual celebrations for such an event back home were replaced by simple best wishes from his Signals comrades.[622] The men arrived at the wharf in Kowloon at 0930 and boarded the SS Tatuta Maru, the ship that would transport them to Japan.
I was in the first six to board the ship and go down [into] the hold and I got the impression it was a hospital ship, it had a huge cross painted on the side and much faded and there were soldiers on the upper decks with various casts, etc. We were told the trip would only be two days, so that made it easier to take. (Gerry Gerrard)[623]
Canada, Early January, 1943
For Christine Sharp in Victoria, and Dorothy Thomas in North Vancouver, the past month or so must have been a continuing nightmare. When the telegrams and lists of POWs in Hong Kong were released in late November they waited in vain to see the names of their husbands Charlie and Ernie. Now, a week into the new year, a scene was to play out that we have come to know from countless Hollywood movies. Across the country, telegrams with words of regret were delivered to wives and other next-of-kin of those soldiers who had been killed in action or died from their wounds. Christine Sharp, Dorothy Thomas, and the families of Bob Damant, Bud Fairley and Hymie Greenberg now knew that their loved ones would not be coming home.[624] For Jim Horvath’s family the news was only marginally better, offering at least some hope for now – he was listed as “missing.”[625] They wouldn’t learn about his fate until May of 1945.[626]
Hometown papers ran stories or showed photographs with captions about the deaths of the young soldiers: “…well known basketball player of Victoria was killed in action…;”[627] “…died in action – enlisted in the RCCS in June, 1940….;”[628] “Trained as a signalman at Kingston, Ont. before going overseas….”[629] The full stories would, however, remain untold until after the war when the survivors returned to Canada.
Meanwhile, officials in Ottawa continued their efforts to establish communication links with Canadian soldiers being held in the Far East. Lt. Col. Clarke wrote on January 12 to Hong Kong POW next-of-kin:
The Japanese Government has now recommended, through the International Red Cross Committee at Geneva, that letters sent from Canada to Prisoners of War in Hong Kong or other Japanese occupied territories be either typewritten or printed in block letters. The reason given for this recommendation is that its adoption will facilitate examination by the Japanese Censors and will help to hasten delivery of mail to the addressees.
It is advisable to make your letters brief, and I suggest that they should be restricted in length to one side of a sheet of note-paper, not larger than the one on which this notice is written.[630]
At this point, Clarke and others in Ottawa had no idea if any letters already sent by the families had been delivered to the prisoners in Hong Kong. But in fact, they were gradually being distributed to the men. The same day Clarke wrote to the families, about one hundred letters for Canadians came into the camp at Sham Shui Po.[631]
En Route to Japan, January, 1943
Left Hong Kong on Tatuta Maru Jan 19, 1943. Arr. Nagasaki, Japan Jan 21, 1943 – Train to Yokohama 2 Days and 2 Nights – Electric train to Kowasaki – March to P.O.W. Camp – Tsurumi. (Don Penny)[632]
Although some men later referred to their transport ship as a “freighter,” in fact the Tatuta Maru was a fairly new and fast passenger liner.[633] One prisoner described it as “a lovely passenger boat.”[634] But the holds deep in the ship where most of the POWs were housed for the trip were anything but lovely. Will Allister wrote:
These four airless steel walls and bare steel floor became a giant sardine tin packed with living, squirming human creatures. There was nothing to do but take turns lying down and standing or sleeping in a sitting position. The heat rose. The air was soon foul. The food was pitifully meagre.[635]
It seems that some of the men were assigned to quarters in the upper part of the ship,[636] but most were placed in the holds, five sections grouped together, meaning 250 prisoners all confined in the same small space.[637]
The Japanese Imperial Army had prepared “Standing Orders” for the trip.[638] The fact that few prisoner diaries or post-war interviews ever mention these suggests that they were never implemented. But in any case, they provide an interesting insight into Japanese preparations for the voyage:
Breakfast 0830
Roll Call 0930
Physical Exam and gargling 1000
Lunch 1230
Evening roll call 1630
Dinner 1700
Order No. 1: All ranks must salute Japanese Naval and Military Officers.
Order No. 2: All scuttles [hatches] must be kept shut except when special permission has been granted.
Order No. 3: Cases of sickness must be reported immediately to the Medical Officer.
Order No. 4: Masks must be worn at all times.
Order No. 5: Care must be taken to keep all lavatories and wash basins clean and flushed….
Order no 6: Cold fresh water turned on between 0700 and 0800 hrs. Body bathing between 1600 and 1630 only.
Order No. 7: All mess trays and pots must be returned to the cookhouse immediately after meals.
Order No. 8: All waste and empty bully beef tins to be dumped in the receptacles near the cookhouse.
Order No. 9: Cigarette ends, matches etc. to be put in empty bully beef tins, not on the floor.
Order No. 10: Smoking is forbidden in the holds when the top hatch is closed.
Order No. 11: Singing and the playing of instruments is forbidden after 1600 hrs.
For the realities of life aboard the Tatuta Maru, we go back to the prisoners’ personal accounts:
We shipped out at 1300 hours and soon found that there was little air to breathe. Soon, we were all seasick and suffering from dysentery. We all literally had to lay in vomit and excrement for the entire trip.[639]
Have you ever heard of the ‘Black Hole of Calcutta’? Well, this was the equivalent, if not worse. In the four days that I was on this ship, I managed to get on deck only once for about five minutes. There were no signs of any kind on it indicating it was transporting POWs. We only had a few buckets serving as latrines and were given only sloppy rice to eat. There wasn’t enough floor space for everyone to lie down at the same time, so some sat with their backs against the wall. The only daylight we saw came through a square hole at the top through which the full latrine buckets went up and the mushy rice ones came down.[640]
If there was one positive aspect to the voyage, it was that it was accomplished very quickly. The ship was fast and steamed a straight course for Japan, without the time-consuming anti-submarine zig-zagging which would have added days to the trip.[641]
When they arrived in Nagasaki the men were filthy and, although no major illnesses had been reported they were generally in pretty bad shape. [642] The ship had anchored out in the bay, and it was well into the evening by the time all the prisoners had been transferred to shore and sorted out into their pre-assigned sections.[643] The Japanese soldiers who greeted them were members of one of the Emperor’s guard regiments. They appeared to be quite shocked, obviously not used to dealing with POWs, particularly men in such poor condition.[644] Being treated with an element of decency and concern was a novel experience for the prisoners, and when word spread that there would be an issue of fresh baked buns, some were incredulous. Will Allister later described the scene:
Yes, buns it was. But not of this world. A celestial miracle. A bonanza of large, wondrously fluffy pastry buns, oval shaped, half a foot long, of pure white flour covered with a thick sweetened crust, the first sweet thing in ages. We expected one per man and were startled to get five.[645]
Even Capt. Reid commented on this small but significant event in his post-war report:
When they came up and said five buns per man I couldn’t believe it and thought it must be one for five, but it wasn’t; they really tasted good and it was fine. They issued cigarettes too.[646]
Will Allister and Bob Warren from the Canadian Provost Corps had, during their months in Hong Kong, worked up quite a repertoire of songs they would perform to entertain their fellow POWs. So under the lamp post lights, there on the docks at Nagasaki, Will and Bob got caught up in the spirit of the “pastry buns moment” and put on an impromptu concert. This went on for about half an hour, much to the delight of their audience, including some of the Japanese guards.[647]
About eleven o’clock that night the Canadians boarded a train and were packed into small coaches with straight-backed passenger seats. In spite of the crowding, the men were served some tea and a small meal.[648] Gerry Gerrard remembered the lunch boxes:
Oh yeah, well on the train for meals you got a couple of little baskets – you know, like they used to use for strawberry baskets – very shallow and about that square, and one would be rice and the other divided off into three or four and there was a little bit of fish and a couple of kinds of bugs or stuff like that, and two little wooden chopsticks.[649]
The train from Nagasaki traveled through the night and at one stop early in the morning about 200 of the group were taken off and put on another train. They would eventually end up at Omine Camp.[650] The rest of the group traveled most of the next day before arriving in Tokyo around suppertime. The prisoners were taken off the train and marched a short distance through the rush-hour crowds to another station platform. There they were herded onto another train by a new set of Japanese army guards (of the harsh and brutal type the prisoners were used to). Early in the morning they stopped at Tsurumi station outside Kawasaki, just northeast of Yokohama. The men were ordered off and told to gather up their kit bags which were then loaded onto trucks. A Japanese officer appeared on horseback and led the men on a two-mile march to the prison camp that would be their home for over two years.[651]
Sham Shui Po Camp, Late January, 1943
For those not sent to Japan, the immediate impact on their lives was a change in accommodation arrangements, in some cases two or three moves over the space of a few days.[652] In the week following the departure of the draft, the Canadian officers and O.R.s shifted from one group of huts to another, all the regular hospital patients were moved to better quarters in another section of the camp, and the last group of diphtheria cases was taken to huts in the hospital area, referred to as “Hankow Barracks.”[653] Other effects from the reduction in numbers at Sham Shui Po included the reorganization of the camp orchestra which now incorporated members from other military units in the camp, and the amalgamation of the two Canadian libraries with a move to a larger facility. The music program was given a boost when the Japanese allowed into camp a number of instruments purchased with money donated by the Pope.[654]
The inclusion of one particular individual in the draft was to have long-term ramifications for a member of the Signal Corps, Sgt. Ron Routledge. Since February, 1942, the British in China had been operating a secret unit, the British Army Aid Group (BAAG), primarily to promote and assist escapes from the camps. Once the prisoners began going out on work parties, BAAG recruited Chinese agents on the outside who could pass messages and other critical items such as medicines to men on the work parties and thus into the camps. At Sham Shui Po, one of the key figures was a ration party truck driver named Farrell. When he was sent to Japan, the senior Canadian officer involved with BAAG, Lt. Col. Price, had to pick someone else for this important role. He selected Ron Routledge, who was already on the ration party, “for this extremely dangerous assignment.”[655] Routledge readily accepted his new responsibility, but a few months later it would lead to severe consequences.
On January 30, each man was given sixteen yen and the meagre canteen supplies were soon depleted.[656] Despite there being fewer prisoners now in camp, the food situation did not improve. As Ray Squires noted, “No, it didn’t make any difference because you just got that many rations of rice.”[657] The lack of proper nutrition continued to take its toll. About half of the 700 Canadians left at Sham Shui Po were in hospital.[658] Electric feet, dysentery and beriberi were prevalent, including a strain of the latter that affected the heart. Walter Jenkins was one of its victims.
Well, I went along almost a year and I was pretty well, then I got what they called cardiac beriberi. Like most people, you think your heart’s over here, you know. And I went to the doctor and I said, “There’s something wrong with my stomach.” So he said, “There’s nothing wrong with your stomach,” he says, “you’ve got cardiac beriberi,” and this is where the Red Cross came in. You see I was walking bent over and it’s an awful feeling, you know to have your heart being pushed around by this liquid. So it just happened that the Red Cross had come in then and I got about half a dozen vitamin B shots and it was only a couple of days and I could walk without that terrible feeling pain, you know.[659]
Red Cross parcels were distributed in camp on February 14, the second issue of these much needed supplies at Sham Shui Po.[660] They were much appreciated, particularly given the condition of the POWs at the time. It was reported to Padre Laite that out of the 2000 men in camp over 1000 were in “category C” and either in hospital or suffering from various illnesses.[661] But in spite of the statistics, Ray Squires wrote in his diary that the situation in the hospital was getting better, perhaps because there were fewer deaths occurring.[662] Walter Jenkins seemed to have recovered from his beriberi by March 9 because he was working on kitchen fatigue duty with Grenadier Tom Forsyth.
Heavy overcast, drizzling rain, on Fatigue in kitchen scouring black, burnt, greasy old pots and pans with gravel and ashes. Assisted by Walter Jenkins. His company was the only bright spot in the whole day.[663]
In early March good news was spreading through the camp – “a ton of Canadian mail” had arrived.[664] Although it took a while for the Japanese to release it (in fact, it appears that the mail was distributed at a rate of about one hundred per month through the year),[665] by March 20 about 360 letters were in the hands of their happy recipients. Most of the letters had been written about a year earlier.[666] Such was the case for a letter to Ray Squires, who was relieved to hear that his wife was well, “though worried she hadn’t heard from me.”[667] The other event of interest around that time was the return of the Japanese officer who had accompanied the draft of prisoners on their voyage to Japan. He reported that, “they had arrived safely and were being well cared for.”[668]
Tokyo POW Camp No. 5, Late January, 1943
We were housed in these two barn-like huts built mostly of bamboo. Each had a wide centre aisle running the full length with sliding doors at each end. There were no partitions. Ten bays ran crossways from side to side. Each half bay had two sleeping platforms for fourteen men. Built two feet off the dirt floor and divided by a five-foot space. In it stood a long rickety table on which we marked our numbers for our rations. The platforms were made of tatami matting, divided by inch-wide wooden slats into sleeping spaces 37 inches wide and 7 feet long. A waist-high shelf ran along the back of the “beds.” We were issued a bowl, four wood-fibre blankets that held no warmth, a small round hard pillow and a cotton bedsheet. (Will Allister)[669]
The camp, which would eventually become known as “Kawasaki 3D”, was located in an industrial area on the coast of Tokyo Bay about five miles from Yokohama and fifteen miles from Tokyo. It was newly built for holding POWs and consisted primarily of two large accommodation huts, housing 250 in each.[670]
Twenty-four latrines, Japanese style (i.e. very small cubicles with a hole in the floor), separated the main buildings of the camp which were laid out in a U-shaped pattern.… Almost closing the top of the U was the Japanese guards’ barracks which contained the camp kitchen and the pay window. Tokyo Bay lay beyond this building. Also in the right wing, up near the guards’ quarters, was what we called the Corner Hotel, which was sort of a solitary confinement cell where a person would be confined on half-rations, for violating a camp rule or otherwise causing difficulties for the landlord. The main gate of 3D stretched between the Corner Hotel and the end of the Japanese building. A washroom, or bath house, contained two large wooden tubs about four feet deep and about twelve feet wide. There were shower heads around the walls. This structure was located in the quadrangle near the latrines. The rest of the enclosed area was the parade square.[671]
Upon their arrival in camp, the men had to stand out in the parade area and listen to a speech from the commandant of the Tokyo area camps. His message to them: they would be held prisoner until Japan destroyed their country. They then had to sign a paper saying they wouldn’t try to escape.[672] Each man was given a bowl and a cup but no eating utensils. They were assigned numbers which had to be worn on the front of their jackets.[673] The men of each section of fifty would now take roll call, eat, sleep and bathe together. Disputes were resolved, competitions organized, mail delivered and punishments meted out all within the ten sections comprising this organizational structure within the camp. More than half of the eleven Signals were together in one section (No. 7) and all the men from Brigade Headquarters units were housed in the Winnipeg Grenadiers side of the building.[674]
We had been given forms to fill out, with a space for our civilian occupation. Ever the optimist, I wrote “librarian” and “painter.” What library I expected to work at was a little hazy, but it was worth a try. As for “painter,” I had used the wrong word, as I was to find to my sorrow – I wound up balancing on a thin plank suspended over the Pacific Ocean, painting the side of a ship. (Will Allister)[675]
The sole purpose of this camp (and others like it throughout Japan) was to provide a source of labour for the Japanese war effort. The POWs here were to become workers at the Nippon Kokan shipyards. Each of the prisoners was assigned to work on one of the various functions throughout the shipbuilding facility: woodworking, pipe fitting, welding, riveting, painting, shop work, general labour, etc. This was done under the supervision of civilian foremen, although there were army guards stationed around the shipyard as well.
Gerry Gerrard worked on a crew bolting the iron plates together.
…you would have to use the bolts to pull the plates together because they didn’t fit properly. Sometimes you’d have to ream the hole out if they didn’t quite line up.[676]
Bob Acton was on the reaming crew.
They’d drill the hole first and we’d come along and make it bigger with the reamer. It was an air hose, and every so often if that bit stuck [in the hole] it would whip you around and pin you to the [iron] sheets – you’d have to call someone to come and help you get away from it.[677]
Don Penny was on the rivet gang. Jack Rose was in the pipe-bending shop working as an acetylene welder.[678] Lee Speller was on the plating crew, although later he was taken off this job to set up a shoemaker shop, taking advantage of his related training and experience before the war.[679] Jim Mitchell, the mechanically minded dispatch rider who had worked in the Falconbridge nickel mine, ended up being assigned to the machine shop.
Because, they came one day and asked if there was anybody who knew about chain jacks – chain blocks…I said I do. They said you might have a job, and I said I’ll help if I can, just let me know….The next day we were back in the shipyard – picking up rivets, bolts, off the ground, that was our job, collecting bolts. He took me into the machine shop and there was a whole goddamned pile of chain blocks – two-ton, five-ton – just laying there. And he says there’s the chain blocks, and I said what’s the matter with them, and he says they don’t work….He says, can you fix these, and I said I certainly can. And I said somewhere in the shop here there should be a bunch of discs of all different sizes. And about two days later they called me – they found the discs.[680]
The shipyard was about two miles from the camp, and every morning the prisoners would be marched, four abreast, to the work site. Because the Japanese required a large quota of workers each day, many of the men making the trek to the shipyard were suffering from various illnesses. Wet and dry beriberi, head colds, tracheitis, bronchitis, influenza, pleurisy, enteritis and dysentery were all mentioned in Capt. Reid’s diary entries during the early weeks in Japan. He suggested that their exposure to the cold temperatures and the demands of physical labour were contributing factors to so much sickness. Within the first month, three men had died.[681] About 160 men were being excused from work each day, mostly due to beriberi. The Japanese tried a new tactic to encourage more men to work. If you went to work you received a full ration of rice and barley; if you were ill but not in the camp hospital you received two-thirds a ration of food; and if you were in the hospital, your ration was half of the normal issue. Capt. Reid’s answer to this situation was to spread the food around evenly.
Of course we pool all the rations and each man actually draws an equal share but it means that everyone in camp is on shorter rations, giving rise to a downhill course for those doing heavy physical labour and a downhill course for the beriberis and other nutritional diseases.[682]
With this new rationing regime Reid was put in the difficult position of having to send sick men off to work in order to keep the rations at above a starvation level. He made it his policy to use “danger to life in the reasonably near future” as his criterion for deciding whether to keep someone on the sick list or to allow him to work.
…thus my endeavour here is to take back as many men as possible back to Canada whether well or ill and not concentrate on complete health. I would rather return five hundred men in various stages of beriberi which perhaps in the future could be cured than to return three hundred men in good health and leave two hundred dead behind.[683]
This philosophy turned out to have positive results as the men in his camp would later attest. “…you’d have to be something out of this world to do the job he did after we went to Japan,” said Lee Speller.[684] Only about twenty-five men died during twenty-eight months at Kawasaki 3D, a much lower mortality rate than at most of the other camps in Japan. One of the contributing factors may have been the medical trust fund that Capt. Reid set up, to be used for purchasing medicines, critical supplies and extra food. Each of the men contributed to their own section fund, as indicated by a receipt brought back to Canada by one of the POWs showing that Sgt. R. Charron contributed twenty-five yen to the Section #7 medical trust fund.[685]
Blacky Verreault was one of those who was too sick to work. Although his painful feet had improved somewhat, soon after arriving in Japan he had been put in a nearby Japanese military hospital suffering from pleurisy. It wasn’t until well into April after his twenty-first birthday on the 14th that he was feeling better.[686] There were some, on the other hand, who seemed to avoid the major debilitating illnesses. Will Allister was one, Gerry Gerrard another. When asked about the common diseases such as dysentery and malaria, Gerry replied,
This is what killed half the guys, is when you got one thing and then you got something else; I didn’t. But the funny thing is when I was a kid I would get terrible colds. Well, when I was over there, you were freezing to death half the time, and in the shipyard some days you’d be in where there’s riveting pots going and it’d be hotter than hell, and then you’d come out and there’s no heat in the camp – I don’t recall being bothered with colds.[687]
As Capt. Reid had noted, the cold winter temperatures were having a negative effect on the health of the men. When they arrived, there was no means of heating the accommodation huts, but an opportunity soon presented itself to improve the situation. In keeping with the custom of the Japanese army, the men were told they would have to shave their heads. Capt. Reid used his stature as an officer to do some strategic bargaining. He said he would shave his head if the Japanese would supply four stoves for each hut – and the deal was made. Even with the small amount of coal available, at least there was now some heat for a few hours in the mornings and at night.[688]
Because of the cold temperatures for the first couple of months, the men generally went to bed wearing the same clothes they had worn during the day. And with no hot water for washing, this led to an outbreak of lice, something the prisoners had become familiar with in Hong Kong.[689] The first time they were allowed to wash their clothes (although it was in cold water) was on February 11. Three days later many of the men – at least those with smaller size feet – were issued Japanese army training boots.[690] Given the rigorous work regime these were a great improvement over the rubber running shoes handed out in Hong Kong when the draft left for Japan.
Although the size of the food rations left much to be desired (particularly with so many sick men off work), the quality of the food during the first months in camp was fairly good. Some Red Cross supplies had been brought from Hong Kong, there was occasionally some meat to put in the daily soup, an issue of beans twice a week, and fish once each week. Capt. Reid thought that this diet would probably maintain the health of the men.[691] Towards the end of February, “a period when the rations were at the best we ever had in Japan,” the list of food available to the cooks included: rice, rye, potatoes, white turnips, fish, soya sauce, soya, curry or Worcester sauce, salt, bone, and bread.[692] On occasion, bulk food supplies from the Red Cross would also be turned over to the camp for distribution – usually after being held for weeks or months by the Japanese. An early April issue for the approximately 500 men in camp was described by Capt. Reid:
Corned beef was issued in five batches once weekly. 522 tins, 12 ozs., one tin per man for three weeks, then next we gave first only 402 tins of the 12 oz. variety and then 180 tins of the 8 oz. variety, one tin per man and two tins per man respectively. The last week, 261 8 oz. tins, one tin between two men. The balance of 39 tins went to the hospital stock for issue to patients.
The breakfast food is being issued 102 pounds every second morning. A bowl for each man in addition to rice issued for a month.
Fruit is issued about twice a week on a morning when breakfast food is not issued, about 150 pounds each issue – on a morning that is not a morning for breakfast food. Also issued one pound per man of dried pears. The issuing of this food has been turned over to us by the Japanese. The only restriction being that it be stretched over one month in time.[693]
These supplies had run out by early May, and for the remainder of their time at this camp the men received only sporadic distributions of Red Cross food.
In mid-February, the Nippon Kokan officials took a particular interest in the men suffering from beriberi. A special meal of unpolished rice and thiamine pills for a week were supplied to all beriberi cases. Since many of the men being excused from work were suffering from this affliction, it’s not hard to see why the shipyard officials were giving them special treatment. At the end of the month, all the men were subjected to a battery of medical tests including blood work, rectal and throat swabs, height, weight and chest measurements and a TB test.[694] About three weeks later, these were followed up by smallpox vaccinations for everyone in camp.[695] The need for healthy labourers was obviously a priority for the Japanese at this time.
If there was a highlight for the men during their first few months at the camp it came in mid-March when they were told they would be allowed to write home. Capt. Reid recalled,
At that time we wrote a letter on a form, a piece of paper that had to be printed. They told us at this time that the officers could write every week and the men every month. No one ever did and the next thing they told us that we could write a letter every two months and a post-card every two months. We actually wrote one or the other every four months for the first couple of years, mostly postcards.[696]
In testament to Reid’s recollection, the interval between Don Penny’s cards and letters home during that period was from two to five and a half months. Don’s first letter, printed in capitals on the form mentioned by Capt. Reid, was dated March 18, 1943:
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Dear Mother I am in good health. How are you and the rest of the family. Is Doug OK. Hope you are all well, happy and together. Remember me to all my friends. Hope everything at home is the same as before. Longing to be with you all again. Keep your chins up. Hope to hear from you sometime. Love to all. Your loving son Don.[697]
The form showed Japanese printing on the left edge – translation: “Tokyo Prisoner of War Concentration Camp.” The envelope bore the same printing on the reverse, and was marked (in Japanese), “Prisoner of War Mail” on the front. A Japanese chop (“Tokyo Prisoner of War Concentration Camp Censorship Completed”) and two personal censor stamps were also on the front of the envelope.
Towards the end of May, the POWs had their second opportunity to write home – this time on small postcards. Don Penny wrote:
Dear Mother. I am well I hope you & family are all ok. Have not received any mail from you yet. But hope to in near future. Give my love to family & regards to friends. Hope Doug is still ok. I am always thinking of home. Don’t Worry. Your loving son Don.[698]
The same printed Japanese characters and censorship chops as found on the earlier envelope can be seen on the postcard as well. As was the case with some of his Signals comrades, Don had a brother who was also in the army. His references to Doug reflect a concern for a brother who was serving overseas in Europe.
Around the same time a batch of mail was delivered into camp – approximately 300 letters for about one hundred of the men.[699] Don Penny didn’t receive his first letter for another three weeks. Blacky Verreault also wasn’t among the lucky recipients on that occasion, but he noted that Will Allister received six.[700] Gerry Gerrard got three on that occasion and seven more in June.[701] Although disappointed, the men who didn’t get letters this time took some consolation in the words from home found in the letters of other POWs. As Capt. Reid pointed out,
…the mail situation was so upset that you felt if you got one you were lucky. Some men never got a letter, others were most irregular; it was so irregular you considered yourself lucky.[702]
This wide variation of correspondence was reflected within the men of the Signal Corps. Jim Mitchell never received a letter while at this camp even though his mother wrote to him almost every two weeks. He eventually got them after the war when he arrived back home in Falconbridge, Ontario. “I don’t know why I didn’t get them,” he said, “mine seemed to be accumulated…and at the end of the war the Americans sent all these letters.”[703] Bob Acton received about four or five,[704] Blacky Verreault and Will Allister got quite a few, Don Penny’s total while at Kawasaki 3D was forty-two, and Gerry Gerrard received about sixty.[705]
In early May, a combined Red Cross and Y.M.C.A. contribution was delivered into camp. It must have been quite a surprise when the men discovered it included a phonograph (but no needles), records, carpenter tools, baseball mitts, ping pong nets and bats, checkers and chess games, mandolins, a ukulele, and three harmonicas. Capt. Reid noted,
I keep the phonograph and records which may be played in the evenings only on Japanese order. It is farmed out on different evenings to a different section. Games are handled in the same way. The mandolins and eukele [sic] were given into the custody of two men who perform well; the baseball equipment and the carpenters’ tools and ping pong equipment are retained by the Japanese staff and are given out at their discretion on request.[706]
How often their Japanese captors allowed the men to take advantage of these recreational resources is not known. Blacky Verreault mentions the “heavenly music” from “our little record player”[707] and the instruments were probably used in a musical program recorded on June 17 for broadcast by the Japanese at some future date.[708] Will Allister was the M.C. for the program.[709] That same day a number of messages from POWs in the camp were recorded, the first of many such communications that would be prepared for broadcast during the months to come. Although the messages were obviously censored and would probably be used for Japanese propaganda purposes, it was felt that information about the camp and who was there would be of interest to Canadian officials and give some relief to family members.[710] But some men also used them as an opportunity to indicate that things weren’t as rosy as their messages suggested. One Grenadier told the listeners that when he got home he looked forward to a holiday in Stoney Mountain. Everyone in Manitoba knew that this was the name of a penitentiary.[711] Jack Rose remembered using the same subterfuge in one of his letters home, writing that he was looking forward to a nice holiday in Okalla (a local prison).[712]
One message was from Lyle Ellis, a Sergeant with the Royal Canadian Army Pay Corps, and the leader of Section #7 which included a number of Signal Corps men. He told of arriving at this new camp near Yokohama in January and said that the conditions were good, food sufficient and that he was working at a job, “which keeps us well occupied.” He noted that there were a number of men from Victoria who were left behind in Hong Kong – Ron Routledge, Howie Naylor, Tony Grimston, Ray Squires, Mel Keyworth, Ted Kurluk and Walter Jenkins, all of them “in good health when we departed.” Men from Vancouver and Victoria who were in the camp were also named, including Bob Acton, Johnny Douglas, Don Penny, Jack Rose, George Grant, Art Robinson and Lee Speller. He then expressed his hope that he would be with his family again in the “not too distant future.”[713] Sadly, he would never see them again. Lyle Ellis died of pneumonia on March 17, 1944.[714]
For the men in Camp No. 5, mail, musical instruments, and recorded messages were infrequent diversions from what had now become an endless routine of early rising, long hours of work, restless sleep and constant hunger because of meagre food rations. Even for those like Blacky Verreault, too sick to go to the shipyard, it was “a miserable life.”
At 5:30 am, we must get up for roll call then our rich breakfast and at ten to seven, the men leave for work. After washing my dishes, I get to work washing and mending clothes for the guys and I work till they return at 5 pm. Supper is then served and the evening is closed with roll call in Japanese, then we cuddle up with our fleas for the night.[715]
How this brave lineman from Montreal maintained a sense of humour in spite of his captive situation and seemingly constant illness is a wonder. Regular references in his diary to close friends (particularly “Bruno” and Allister) suggest the importance of these types of relationships in surviving the trials of life as a POW. Relying on a friend for support was something Johnny Douglas got used to. Every morning at roll call he would ask Lee Speller, “Are we going to make it today?” He would reply, “Yes, we’ll make it today.”[716]
Will Allister wrote at length about his experiences on the paint crew at the shipyard. Their first assignment was painting the sides of freighters, standing on shaky planks, high up on bamboo scaffolding. With nothing to hold onto, they were one slip away from falling to certain death or serious injury. Will’s response to this precarious situation:
I placed the can on the plank and leaned against the ship with one hand while I stooped with trembling legs to dip my brush in the red lead underpaint then brushed it onto the steel sides, always leaning forward to avoid falling backwards. It was slow going. Almost no going. But I was not eager to win any medals for my war effort. On these rations, I had resolved to expend as little energy as humanly possible. I would move like an old man from here on in…it would be my private battle. Sabotage yes, and survival. In fact, most prisoners, half sick, moved about slowly to the bewilderment of the Japanese who zoomed around with nervous speed and limitless energy.[717]
Other tasks for his crew included painting anchor chains and the bottom of rail cars with black tar, scraping rust off the steel plating to prepare the ship sides for painting, and carrying sacks of cement to the ships from where they were stored in the paint shop.[718]
Working from scaffolding was something many of the prisoners had to get used to. Gerry Gerrard recalled,
They hung all the scaffolding on wires; this was something you had to check. When you left at night the Japs were still working, so when you came back in the morning you had to check your scaffold to make sure all the wires were O.K. You couldn’t trust anybody.[719]
Don Penny slipped off a scaffold while working on the riveting crew and fell into the hold of the ship. He must not have been too high up because he only sprained his ankle.[720] Reading Will Allister’s descriptions of the working environment, it’s easy to imagine how such accidents happened.
Once in the hot, cavernous bowels of a freighter under construction, I sat down to rest on a plank that was covered in wires and hoses – it was in the middle of bedlam with planks above and below me and the deafening thunder of riveting guns amplified in the confined shell of the freighter’s hold.[721]
Given the conditions and general poor health of the prisoners, it’s surprising that there weren’t more serious accidents. Any severe injuries and some occasional surgical cases were treated at the shipyard’s own hospital.[722] Don Penny recorded in his notebook: “operation on right hand – gangoleon [sic] – factory hospital.”[723]
The combination of need for workers, and the ration rules that reduced the amount of food for men who were off work because of illness, led to the establishment in April of a special work detail. Three groups of fourteen men – one group going to work every third day – walked “slowly at their own speed” to the shipyard and were employed at simple jobs such as bolt sorting. There was also another group in camp (referred to as the “anvil chorus”) which spent some time each day straightening welding rods with hammers.[724] Gerry Gerrard recalled that for a while when he was off work because of an infection in his leg, he was part of this crew.
I used to have to hammer out these welding rods. Another job was cleaning all the old nuts and bolts. The welding rods used to come in great coils and when you’d cut them up they’d be curved so you had to straighten them all up.[725]
In mid-July, Blacky Verreault was feeling better; however, he was still not cleared for work at the shipyard. But he had not been idle. Music lessons were a favoured occupation, he was teaching a French class, and he enjoyed reading all the letters received by the prisoners in his section. “To read a letter from home is an incomparable emotion,” he wrote. They often offered opportunities for a few laughs at the recipient’s expense.
[George] Grant, married two weeks before his departure, learns that his young bride has met his perfect double in the neighbourhood and now refuses to go out for fear of weakening. ‘He looks so much like my darling husband’ she says.[726]
For a couple of months, Blacky had also worked with two others as servers for meals at the camp. But a change in serving arrangements now meant that each section would send three men to collect and distribute the rations.[727] Will Allister later wrote a rather expressive description of a typical end-of-day meal time.
We placed our various mess-tins or tin cans wired with handles, over our numbers on the long rickety table. The volunteer server and helpers brought the large bucket of steaming rice to one end while helpers passed up the tins. We closed in like wolves for our nightly ritual. Hungry distrustful eyes watched hypnotically as the server’s ladle dove into the rice, lifted a heaping portion and patted it into a bowl, smoothing it level. Then he shoveled the contents into each mess tin which was returned to its place. It sat enticingly on its crudely marked number, cooling and waiting for the completion of the ceremony. When there was rice left over it was distributed as “seconds” in careful sequence – often as many as six lucky recipients won this tiny extra mouthful. When portions were too large there was nothing left for the last few and a recall was needed with the helpers, like obedient priest, relaying the tins to the high priest who removed a dab from each one to make up the difference….
Servers were changed often, due to poor judgment or hanky-panky, some being not adverse to a bribe (a cigarette) and could pack one bowl harder than the rest. The soup was a matter of how deep he dipped the ladle since the sparse vegetables settled at the bottom. In our section, Speller lasted longest and somehow managed to rise above the clouds of hostile suspicion and twisted paranoia.[728]
On July 23, Blacky Verreault was finally cleared for work by Capt. Reid, and two days later he was at the shipyard employed in one of the shops.[729] He not only found that the work tired him out, but also learned that failure to pay immediate attention to orders from the civilian guards had severe consequences. He had been walking with his hands in his pockets (not acceptable behaviour) and because of all the noise and activity around him he didn’t respond to the guard’s direction to take his hands out. For this perceived disobedience he was taken to the mess hall for punishment.
They had me hold a bucket of water with my arms extended and when I could no longer hold straight, my arms lowered. Then two or three blows with a stick on the knuckles made me drop the bucket. Amona [the guard] would fill it up again and the exercise was on again. This lasted for an hour.[730]
But this was only the first stage of his punishment. He was told to stretch out on the floor supporting himself by his toes and hands. A large shovel with red hot coals was then placed under him so he couldn’t lower himself to the floor. Blows to his back kept him from arching away from the coals. Almost unconscious from fatigue and the heat, he managed to maintain the position for forty-five minutes at which point he was ordered to stand, and then sent back to the shop.[731]
Beatings and other punishments for minor infractions were a fact of life for prisoners of the Japanese. Will Allister recounted one of his many such experiences. He had been goaded into lighting a cigarette given to him by one of the Japanese workers. This was against the rules.
My luck that a soldier, on patrol, looked in and saw me. He walked in, surprised. Shit! I saluted and bowed, and didn’t hide the cigarette, to show that it was alright. He bellowed at me. I tried to say I had permission and turned to the teenager for help but there was nobody home – he’d gone pale with the soldier bellowing at him – and shook his head denying everything. He had nothing to do with me. My heart sank. Here we go. “Ki-o-tsuki” the soldier bellowed. I came to attention, feet together. “Bakayaro!” (scum). He hauled off and whacked me across the face. A sharp piercing shaft of pain shot through my head. He was strong as a bull, a corporal with much practice. My ears rang with the second blow that came from the other side. My face felt numb after the third blow and the pain seemed to retreat. It was a question of keeping my feet and not being knocked down. Another and another. He stopped at last, shouted some more, more as protocol than in anger. He seemed satisfied at a workmanlike job and left.[732]
Jack Rose was another Signalman who got a beating for a seemingly insignificant indiscretion. Jack had learned to speak Japanese, and used his knowledge of the language to construct a joke about world leaders.
He tried it out on [interpreter] Kokiama, and it went like this: “Winston Churchill, ichiban (which means he’s number one); Roosevelt, niban (number two); and Tojo, toban (which means “batman”). He got a beating for talking like that.[733]
Serious offences brought more severe punishment. A Grenadier, Ernie Thomas, was involved in procuring quantities of much sought after cigarettes through trading with Japanese civilians. Gerry Gerrard, who had a role in the scheme, related some of the details.
Before that – the guy next to me – I didn’t start this business, the two guys next to me, they started it with some Red Cross money, but there was nothing to buy…. And so they started trying this cigarette deal, buying cigarettes off the Japs at work. They lost some money at the beginning – the Japs would take them to the cleaners – but finally they got it going pretty good. I got involved with it because the two of them were off work and rather than lose the business I said I’d do it. So I smuggled them in for a while….We were working on the same work crew for a while and after he [Ernie] came back from being sick he was in another crew. The Japs went through the lunchroom after lunch and they found these cigarettes….They took Ernie in and they beat the hell out of him. And they stood him out all night and every hour a Jap would come out and pour a bucket of cold water on him. And he stood there all night.[734]
Ernie West of the Canadian Dental Corps was involved in a similar operation. He too was severely punished, including being beaten again by “a big wig from the factory.”[735] As it turned out, West’s trading scheme had involved not only cigarettes but Japanese boots, watches and other items. Eventually he and an accomplice were tried in Japanese civilian court and given prison sentences of two to eight months.[736]
In a war crimes trial held in October, 1946, the charges against the camp commandant included seventy-nine Canadians as having been beaten while prisoners at Kawasaki 3D.[737] Some have suggested that it was one of the best prison camps in Japan, but the litany of stories detailing abuse at the hands of both army and civilian guards and interpreters point to a brutal reality where deprivation and punishments were facts of life for the POWs being held there.
In late July word was received that the administration of the camp was to be transferred from the Japanese army to the civilian authority of the Nippon Kokan shipyard. Other than the camp commandant, all the army staff were to leave and be replaced by shipyard personnel, effective August 1. The camp designation also would change, from No. 5 to 3D, the “D” signifying that the camp was detached from the army.[738]
The end of July also marked another significant event for the POWs – permission to write another letter home. Blacky Verreault wrote to his father noting he had received mail.[739] Don Penny had received five letters in the previous month, including his first communication from home, written just after Christmas, 1942. The other four, from his mother and sister in Vancouver, had been mailed in October and November, 1942. Don shared the news of his mail in a hand-printed letter to his mother:
July 29, 1943
My Dear Mother. Another short letter to let you know I am still OK. And sure hope that you and the rest of the family are all in the best of health and not worrying. Have received five letters from home. Was glad to hear that you were away to see your Dad and sister. Tell Dad and Harry not to work so hard. Hope Doug is OK, I’m kind of worried about him, knowing what can happen. I can’t imagine Greta working as she seemed so young when I left home. Would like snaps of the family if possible. Well Mother take care of yourself and the family to [sic] as I want to see you all again sometime. Love Don. [740]
Canada, March, 1943
In Ottawa, letters to and from POWs in the Far East were a regular topic of discussion, particularly at External Affairs and the Department of National Defence. Instructions from the Japanese government regarding prisoner of war mail had been sent to next-of-kin in January with the hope that this would speed up the delivery process. This was primarily related to the Japanese censors, given that Canadian officials had learned that there was a large accumulation of undelivered letters to the POWs. Attempts were also being made to reach an agreement with Japan on the number of letters allowed to be sent by the prisoners.[741] Unfortunately, communication between Canada and Japan was still slow because it had to go through a third party, generally a country with an embassy in Tokyo. Specific information about individual prisoners and camps was hard to come by, and even in April, 1943, Swiss officials in Japan were still trying to secure lists of POWs.[742] The sparseness of information must have been frustrating for both Canadian officials and the families of POWs. But ever since the fall of Hong Kong, all concerned had gradually learned to live with uncertainty.
By the summer of 1943, most families had still not received any communication from their loved ones. But then, out of the blue, reports started to come in about radio broadcasts from prisoners in Japan. On July 8 and 9, shortwave radio listeners around the world heard messages from a number of prisoners being held “in a camp near Yokohama,” Japan. Transcripts of the messages, many copied and sent to family members in Canada, indicated that a group of POWs had been moved to Japan from Hong Kong in January, 1943.[743] A number of the messages included lists of names of men who were in this new camp, thus bringing a sense of relief to the families of those mentioned by their fellow prisoners. The Penny family received a letter from the wife of one of the message readers who was also from Vancouver, and included copies of some of the broadcasts.
Dear Mr. and Mrs. Penny,
The enclosed are copies of short-wave broadcasts from Tokio [sic] that were given to me. I have been very fortunate in receiving a recording of my husband’s message. He speaks first on the record in a clear strong voice and I am able to recognize the voice as his.
I feel that the boys are better off in Japan for the food situation must be better there than in Hongkong [sic]. I am so pleased that your son’s name is mentioned in Lyle Ellis’s message for the recordings were no doubt all made in June of this year and that is really such recent news.
One of these days the war will be over and the boys will be home again. May that day come soon.
Yours very sincerely,
Gladys Thomson[744]
While the news was good for friends and families of the fourteen Signalmen whose names were in the broadcasts, for one Signal Corps family word arrived around the same time that their son and brother had died of illness while a prisoner in Hong Kong. Tom Redhead’s name had appeared on the November 21, 1942 army casualty list, included with other R.C.C.S. men as a prisoner of war. So Robert Redhead undoubtedly had high hopes for his youngest son’s survival. It must have been a great shock when he received the sad news from officials in Ottawa.[745] Similar tragic and surprising news about her son was to arrive at Jean White’s home in Abbotsford, B.C. about a week later. Wes White’s name was included in a July 22 army casualty list of prisoners who had died of illness while overseas. All thirty-eight POWs named had died in Hong Kong, a fact pointed out in a Canadian Press story that accompanied the list.[746] It also reported that Defence Department officials were saying many of the deaths were due to food deficiencies.
The official “Messages of Condolence” came from both Ottawa and London:
This commemorates the gratitude of the Government and the people of Canada for the life of a brave man freely given in the service of his Country.
His name will ever be held in proud remembrance.
[Signed] Minister of National Defence
Buckingham Palace
The Queen and I offer you our heartfelt sympathy in your great sorrow. We pray that your country’s gratitude for a life so nobly given in its service may bring you some measure of consolation.
[Signed] George R.I.[747]
In spite of the good news messages received via radio, for any of those Signal Corps families reading this casualty list and the related article which appeared in newspapers across the country, it must have been hard to suppress lingering doubts about the well-being of their loved ones. Some, like Don Penny’s father, wrote to their contact at National Defence (now Colonel) F.W. Clarke, requesting more information. And although the reply was somewhat encouraging, little new or more detailed knowledge was passed along.
It has been ascertained that Sgt. Ellis’ message in which he mentions your son, was transmitted on July 8th, 1943. It is therefore considered that the report stating that your son was in good health is of fairly recent origin.
Regarding the date of transfer of a number of prisoners of war, including your son, from Hong Kong to Japan, Sgt. Ellis did not state this information in his message. However, from other similar messages it is concluded that the transfer was effected sometime in January, 1943.
Should any further information be received concerning the welfare of your son, please be assured that it will be communicated to you with the least possible delay.[748]
Don Beaton’s family employed additional means of inquiry, sending a request through “Vatican Service” and the Apostolic Delegation in Tokyo.[749] But for all concerned, specific information continued to be hard to come by. On August 16, the External Affairs Department decided to issue a statement about Canadians being held by the Japanese, “because of the great distress caused to the families of Canadian prisoners of war and internees in the Far East” due to the lack of news. The statement included the following:
It is believed that the lists of prisoners of war from the Canadian armed forces who are in Japanese hands, which have been furnished from time to time by the Japanese Government, through the International Red Cross committee are virtually complete.
While these prisoners were all captured at Hong Kong, it has recently been learned that upward of 650 have been transferred from Hong Kong to camps in Japan, and all next of kin concerned have been notified accordingly. It is not known definitely whether the rest of our men are still in Hong Kong or if they have been transferred elsewhere, but efforts have been made to obtain this information, and these efforts are being vigorously pursued.[750]
Sham Shui Po Camp, April, 1943
For the POWs in Hong Kong, including Capt. Billings and the other twelve Signals, early spring was turning out to be a period of relative stability and calm. Although there was still much sickness, the number of deaths had dropped off substantially. Work parties, which had been suspended in December, would not start again until later in April. As a consequence, there were more people available, and more time for the preparation and production of entertainment shows. Elaborate sets and costumes were created for the various musicals and plays performed in the “concert hall” hut on a stage constructed by the prisoners.[751] The play, “Once in a Lifetime,” was a particularly Canadian production, with the producer, stage manager and twenty-five of the thirty-nine actors all members of “C” Force.[752]
For those with a more academic interest, there was a series of lectures by Canadian officers covering topics related to life in Canada (e.g., agriculture, mining, pulp and paper). The Canadian library in camp received over 250 new books courtesy of the Red Cross, a welcome addition since many of the old books were in the process of being taken apart, re-set and recovered.[753] Reading continued to be one of the most popular diversions for the Hong Kong POWs and the range of titles meant that there was something available for most interests. One reader showed his sense of humour by crossing out the author’s name on the cover of Down the Garden Path and wrote in “Winston Churchill.”[754]
While these various pursuits provided a means to forget their situation, there was one part of POW life that brought reality and dreams together: communication with home. In early April, letters that had come into camp some time ago were still being distributed, and the men were again permitted to write one of their own. A new restriction was added to the word count of fifty – no date was allowed to be included in the letter. About this time, shortly after his twenty-third birthday on March 15, Don Beaton wrote:
Prisoners of War Camp “A”
Hong Kong
Dear Mother & Dad
Another line to let you know I’m still going strong. How is everything going at home. Fine I hope.
We are starting to get mail from home now so you can imagine how anxiously I’m waiting for a letter after a year and a halfs silence.
Here are my best wishes for Birthday and wedding anniversarys. Is Mary married yet? Just think – I may be an uncle for all I know.
Will you give my regards to Walt Cowley and family and to everyone else.
Love to all
Don[755]
Ray Squires wrote home to his wife on April 4, and a week later received his first letter from her. As recorded in his diary, it obviously made his day.
I’ve had a busy morning but feel very happy. Last night I received my first letter from you, honey. It just made me realize I love you more if that is possible. When I arrive home we are really going to make up for lost time. Am writing this as I eat my lunch, which is not very attractive. Plain Boiled Rice, greens, Soup with a little Chee added and tea. We still get our 2 oz of bully per day for supper.[756]
A couple of weeks later he reported that more mail was rumoured to be in camp and even though he had received eight letters already, he was looking forward to more, even though “some of the lads haven’t had any.”[757]
While letters were obviously a means of boosting morale and generating positive thoughts of home, it was a deep commitment to survival that kept many of the POWs going in spite of all they faced. In an interview many years later, Don Beaton talked about coping:
…after a couple of years, you’re in a bit of a rut, and you just figured that this was life and you just carry on day to day, day to day….
It’s just a matter of getting used to it. You can get used to anything. You can get used to being a prisoner, too. First year’s the worst….
You just worked and ate and slept, work ate and slept….Once we started working we didn’t have any time to sit around and think about things….
I just kinda knew I…it was a period of life. I knew I’d get out one way or another.[758]
Reminders of home in the form of letters continued to come into camp through May and June, 1943. Most were at least a year old.[759] Ray Squires received two on May 7, one from his wife in Victoria. “They are a wonderful boost,” he wrote.[760]
As heartening as they were, the letters offered only momentary distractions from the realities of daily life at Sham Shui Po. By mid-April, work parties were ordered again although the labour was somewhat easier, fewer men were required and the hours were shorter than before.[761] Most of the work consisted of grass cutting, cleaning oil drums and some excavation. Signalman Tony Grimston remembered working with quite a few other Canadians digging tunnels for the Japanese.[762]
Continuing harsh treatment by their captors was another inescapable reality. Some Canadian prisoners were caught gambling and as punishment were, “forced to carry heavy loads of brick on the double for several hours.” The small indiscretion of talking to a sentry resulted in a severe beating for two other POWs.[763]
It was within this type of repressive atmosphere that the clandestine work of a particular group of prisoners, including Sgt. Ron Routledge took place. With great care and secrecy they passed messages, shared information and acquired medical supplies for the camp. In concert with the British Army Advisory Group (BAAG) which had contacts throughout China, these men had been working on behalf of their fellow prisoners for months without discovery by the ever watchful Japanese. But then in May, 1943, one of the Chinese truck drivers who was part of the delivery system was caught. Under torture he gave up the names of some of his contacts.[764] On July 1, the Japanese moved to shut down the operation at Sham Shui Po. Ron Routledge, who had been part of the ration crew which gave him access to the Chinese outside the camp, was one of those arrested. He recounted his experience in an interview years later.
On the 1st of July, 1943, the Red Cross appeared in Shamshuipo and the Japanese were going to show the Red Cross how well we were being treated and so on, so they ordered us to go down and play soccer on the field in front of the Shamshuipo barracks, great huge field, and I was walking from my billets down to the field when I passed by the ration depot and all of a sudden I looked over and there were about three or four Japanese and one Chinese chap standing there and when I looked over, the Chinese chap pointed at me and the three or four Japanese chaps rushed over behind me with fixed bayonets and told me to go over to the depot where I would be told something. When I got over there, they, they didn’t really tell me anything except that they handcuffed me, gave me a little slapping around and a few little points with the bayonet and I was taken from there down to [Japanese army headquarters] for questioning. But all this was a result of the truck driver telling them that it was I who was receiving and sending messages to the outside.
…They wanted to know, they insisted that I tell them not only how much I knew, but who else I was aware of in this chain and was doing this passing of messages and so on….But I wouldn’t expose them.[765]
Routledge was severely beaten and tortured, but he refused to give up the names of others involved. Eventually he and the others who had been arrested were moved to Stanley Prison to await trial on a charge of espionage.[766] Months later they were given a “summary trial.” Three British officers were ordered executed and the three others charged were sentenced to fifteen years hard labour.[767] For his constant courage under brutal treatment and imprisonment, Ron Routledge was awarded the Distinguished Conduct Medal in 1946.[768]
In late July, bombing raids on Hong Kong, which hadn’t occurred for about eight months, began again. Ray Squires recorded in his diary:
We have been bombed on July 27-28-29 and today on the 30 we are waiting. I would say that 95% are in favour of more and heavier bombings. We are ¾ of a mile from Oil tanks across the bay and get a wonderful view of the bursting bombs. So far they haven’t scored a hit. I saw 15 bombers yesterday.[769]
The day before the latest raids began Ray had celebrated his thirty-first birthday. Four fellow hospital orderlies helped him mark the occasion with a can of cheese he had saved and toasted slices of their ration of buns.[770]
About a week after the bombing raids the camp received orders for another draft of men to be sent to Japan. A group of over 300 Canadians plus some British and Dutch POWs were segregated from the rest of the camp and began receiving vaccinations, inoculations and medical tests.[771] As was the case with the January draft, selecting those who would go was primarily by passing a basic test. Walter Jenkins recalled:
I was able to pass the medical to go to Japan. The medical was – they lined us up on one side of the curb (this road came right through the camp), and they lined us up on the curb, I don’t know, maybe 600 guys, and then they had Japanese guys stationed in the middle of the road about every 10 or 15 feet. As you walked from one curb to another the Jap would pick you out and say, “You can’t go, you can’t go.”[772]
Men who had difficulty walking would be of little use as labourers in Japan, so they were quickly disqualified. Ray Squires was one of those who passed the test, but as in the previous draft, he was taken off, seemingly because of his job as a senior medical orderly.[773] He, along with Capt. Billings, Don Beaton, Larry Dowling, Tony Grimston, Ted Kurluk, Wally Normand and Ron Routledge (now in Stanley Prison) were the Signal Corps members who were left in Hong Kong. Included in the draft of 376 Canadians and 125 other POWs were Signals Rolly D’Amours, Ernie Dayton, Walter Jenkins, Mel Keyworth and Howie Naylor. They boarded the Manryu Maru (also known as the S.S. Morningstar) and left for Japan on Sunday morning, August 15.[774]
En Route to Japan, August, 1943
But that trip, actually the ride on the ship wasn’t that bad either, you know. We relate back to it because we didn’t lose anybody. We had two meals a day and we had water to drink. And we spent a week in the harbor in Formosa. The guys in the stern they were in on coal, they put coal in with them but up where we were, it wasn’t nice, but they had it so we could go up and take a shower, turn on the salt water you know. And finally guys were down there playing cards and they didn’t want to go up. We went up in groups like. So I think we spent half the day up there just talking on the deck. It sounds incredible now when you hear all these terrible stories about these ships going. I was lucky I guess, you know. (Walter Jenkins)[775]
Jenkins’ recollections of the voyage did not include some of the more troubling details described by others on the ship. The holds were overcrowded and there wasn’t enough space for everyone to lie down. Initially only ten men at a time were permitted to use the latrine facilities on deck. The buns they had brought with them soon were covered with mould, and even with the outside layer cut off, many men became ill from eating the remaining portions. The rice and fish stew that was lowered down in large tubs was often too rank to eat, and for those who could force it down, sickness was often the result. Stifling heat added to the worsening conditions in the holds.[776]
Fortunately, after three days they arrived in Formosa and remained in port for about ten days. The hatches were opened so more fresh air was available and access to the deck was allowed a couple of times a day. They were also issued a pomelo – a large coarse version of grapefruit.[777] The “luxury of a salt water bath” was another plus, although the men were also required to present themselves for the now familiar glass rod stool test.[778]
The ship left Formosa and eventually docked at Osaka, Japan on the afternoon of September 1.[779] Rifleman Ken Cambon described their welcome:
Our reception committee wore long, white medical gowns and surgical masks. They carried Flit-guns and gave each of us a thorough spraying from head to foot, presumably so we would not contaminate their sacred land. It was probably some phenol solution as those not quick enough to close their eyes suffered for several days.[780]
The Japanese medical officer was not impressed by the condition of the prisoners and questioned their fitness for work.[781] But his assessment had no bearing on their fate. After being herded through the streets to a railway station, the draft was divided into two groups. One, including 100 Canadians, would be sent across the island to Oeyama camp near Kyoto. The larger group with 276 Canadians including R.C.C.S. members D’Amours, Dayton, Jenkins, Keyworth and Naylor, was put on a train which headed north to the city of Niigata and their destination, Camp 5B. Walter Jenkins recalled that the train trip was not too bad.
It was a passenger train. It wasn’t boxcars or anything like you see prisoners in. You know, we sat in these little seats and it took us a day and a half or something to get up there. We thought, “Boy, this is the place. They were right.” We got good meals on the train.[782]
Food on the train was distributed in small wooden boxes, each with a set of chopsticks. Inside were, “attractively arranged portions of rice, pickled fish and seaweed.”[783] A sense of optimism prevailed, although it would be short-lived. When they arrived in the camp after a short truck ride from the train station, the commandant quickly set the tone for their time at Niigata 5B.
“You are prisoners of the Imperial Nipponese Army. The war will last a hundred years and you will be here forever.” Then drawing his sword, grasping it with both hands, he slashed it through the air, shouting, “This is the punishment for disobedience.”[784]
Tokyo Camp 3D, August, 1943
The army is leaving us today and transfers its prisoner administration to the factory. Will it be for the better? The Jap Commandant told Captain Reid that no prisoner would be punished by a civilian guard and all disciplinary action will be ordered by a Nippon officer. It’s a point in our favour because the civilian guards are all excited at the idea of ruling over white POW’s. Bunch of hicks! (Blacky Verreault) [785]
By all accounts, the change in camp administration had little effect on the lives of the POWs. Early in August the food rations were cut as part of a general directive across Japan. The intent seemed to be continue cutting the ration to see how little the men could live on.[786] In spite of Capt. Reid’s regular warnings to the Japanese, the reductions went on over the next few months, resulting in more weight loss, other effects of malnutrition, and general lack of resistance to illness and infection. By late November, the Japanese were complaining about the large number of men unavailable for work. Only after again pointing out that the lack of food was to blame was Capt. Reid’s request for an increase in rations finally granted.[787] Johnny Douglas missed most of the ration reductions at 3D because he was in the nearby Shinagawa Hospital from August 1 to November 11.[788]
In early September, a second series of messages and musical programs was recorded in the camp. Don Penny and Jack Rose were two of the fifty men whose words were eventually broadcast to the outside world. Both referred to letters they had received from home and sent regards from fellow B.C. Signals.[789]
Back in early July, the Japanese had taken pictures of each of the POWs. Gerry Gerrard recalled the day, “because it was the only time I sat in a chair the whole time I was a prisoner of war.”[790] On October 30, the men were shown their pictures, revealing shaved heads and generally sour expressions. “They caused a lot of laughs,” noted one POW.[791]
Moments of levity were rare, however, as the reduced rations meant going to bed hungry was the norm. In addition, the lack of tobacco products that had led to the smuggling operation and Ernie West’s punishment was having negative effects on morale. “Haven’t had cigarettes for months, only the butts we pick,” wrote Charles Trick,[792] words echoed by Blacky Verreault: “At work, everybody is on the look out for cigarette butts. Because there are no cigarettes left in camp.”[793] Will Allister described how they dealt with the shortage.
Each of us carried a butt-tin, an old bully-beef can cut in half in which we collected our daily haul. Hunting butts was called “sniping” and we named our brand Lucky Snipes. All prisoners walked with eyes lowered, heads bowed, not out of humility, but always on the lookout. Rainy days were gloomy because the pickings, indoors only, were lean. At day’s end we opened our butts and rolled the dry tobacco into a cigarette of brown wrapping paper which held together well when moistened.[794]
At Capt. Reid’s request, the men were also on the lookout for useful medical supplies. There were virtually no bandages available so substitutes were always needed. The men would pick up some cloth from the company and smuggle it in. “Every night some man would come in with something picked up outside, cloth or tape or something like that.”[795]
Cigarette butts and bandage materials weren’t the only objects of scrounging activity. Constant hunger meant that any opportunity to gather food was seized upon. One POW described gathering orange peels from the cafeteria floor, and although feeling humiliated by the experience, he “swallowed [his] pride with the orange peels.”[796] Will Allister described a similar experience with tangerine peels found along the roadside.
We used to gather them, wash them under a tap behind the paint shop and chew on them for a bit of much needed vitamin C. Too much induced diarrhea so we couldn’t overdo it. The chewiest, most enjoyable ones were those that had been hardened by time and the stamp of many feet – I liked to think of grapes pressed by peasants’ feet and aged into fine wines. It filled a little corner of emptiness and, with a faint flavour still present, brought the illusion of eating.[797]
He also recalled occasions when working behind the shipyard kitchens offered the opportunity to nab leftover noodles that had been dumped into garbage cans by the cooks. This was only possible if their foremen and guards weren’t watching. It meant scooping up the coagulated gobs, stuffing them inside your shirt and dashing off to the latrine so you could wolf down the noodles without getting caught.[798] Not only were these occasional food finds an addition to their meagre rations, they also provided the men with an ever so slight deviation from their constant diet of rice. Capt. Reid noted after the war,
It is impossible to explain to anybody what it is to eat rice three times a day for three and a half years or so – so that the men were extremely ingenious in changing the flavour in that they added anything that could be eaten and some things that we would regard as being inedible, to put on their rice. One of the favourites was the Japanese issue tooth powder. One time the Japanese gave us a tub of grease for shoes and that was put on the rice. Later on we did get some condiments to put on the rice – pretty rough stuff too, a bit of curry, some red pepper, then perhaps a little tooth powder and mix these all up together and smear that on the rice. I was afraid it would explode.[799]
Everyone had their own way of accepting or adapting to the monotony of diet and other day-to-day work and camp regimens. Blacky Verreault recorded in his diary,
I have now worked regularly for four months and am now involved in the black market. I show some profit once in a while. I do get caught sometimes and get punished but that does not deter me. This attitude helps me forget that I’m hungry. I made myself a nice music book at the expense of the emperor and Bob Warren who is Romulu [sick leave] has committed to copy all my music at three cents a sheet. He does nice work![800]
The general routine at 3D in late fall, 1943 was as follows:
Reveille 0600
Roll Call 0610
Breakfast 0630
Work 0700
Dinner 1100
Supper 1800
Roll Call 1930
Lights Out 2030[801]
There was also a sick parade before breakfast – usually 30-40 cases – and another one when the men came back to camp from the shipyard.[802]
Sometimes on their scheduled day off work (referred to as yasumi) the men would be allowed to use the communal bath. It was a large tub and was only filled once with hot water, the men going in by section, fifty at a time.[803] This meant it was very hot for the first section and tepid and dirty for the last to use it. On one occasion, Will Allister’s section was the first in.
We stripped quickly in the cold air, washed (with whatever slivers of soap we owned) in lukewarm water then stepped into the hot one…and yelled! Not with joy but with pain. This was impossible – madness! What did they think we were?! The problem was that to stay hot all day it had to be very very hot at first. Our skeleton carcasses were crammed together in this boiling vat, mouths agape and gasping, eyes bulging.[804]
Gerry Gerrard recalled,
The water was heated, circulated to a tank about two feet each side; it then flushed down into the tub like the old urinals. It worked quite well, except if sitting by the outlet it was scalding.[805]
As Allister noted, soap was hard to come by. A half-bar (approximately two inches square) was issued to each man on October 28, and the next one not until December 2. This had to suffice for personal washing as well as any cleaning of clothes and bedding. Toilet paper was also in short supply. Forty sheets per man had been issued on October 29 (supposedly a ten day supply), but they didn’t get any more until December 9.[806]
Supplies from the International Red Cross were also trickling into camp, but often they were held back by the Japanese for distribution at some later date. Food (mostly cans of corned beef and meat and vegetables) and some pairs of boots which had originally been delivered to 3D in May were finally released to the prisoners on December 3.[807] More corned beef was issued about ten days later and then on the 23rd a large quantity of Red Cross food and parcels was released for distribution at Christmas.[808]
Dec 24th. We came home from work and found the Red Cross Parcels came in. 1 between 2 men. They were American Red Cross Parcels and contained 1 large can of Klim, 2 bars of chocolate, 2 cans of coffee, sugar cubes, 2 cans of Spam, 3 cans of bully beef, 1 box of prunes, 2 bars of soap, 1 can opener, 4 small cans of butter, 1 can of grape jam, 1 box of cheese, 7 pks. of cigarettes (Chesterfield and Phillip Morris. The first thing I did was smoke a Phillip Morris, the first American cigarette in 2 years). It certainly was a swell parcel and it raised the spirits of the boys 100%. Xmas eve we were given 3 decks of cigs from the factory and candy & oranges. At 2100 hrs we had cocoa and lights out at 2300 hrs. The barracks were all decorated up and really looked like Xmas.
Dec 25th. Today another parcel was issued, 1 to 5 men. I stayed in bed all day with a fever and missed the best meals of the year.
Breakfast – 1 loaf of bread, Beef stew, oranges, coco [sic], ¼ can of bully beef.
Dinner – rice and a really lovely bully stew, oranges and coco
Supper – Soup, loaf of bread, fried fish in batter, and a duff made of sweet potatoes and flour with a chocolate sauce.
The above was written on the back of a mimeographed sheet of song lyrics (Joy to the World, It Came Upon A Midnight Clear, Holy, Holy, Holy, and Silent Night) brought home after the war by Don Penny. On top of the page he had written, “Xmas Carols sung at the short church service held Xmas Eve.” [809]
The 23rd had been a day off. The men had a bath and many spent the day decorating their section spaces in the camp.[810] Will Allister put his artistic talents to good use, painting Christmas scenes on some of the walls.[811] Capt. Reid wrote,
Two small pine trees we got today and some decorations. This day a holiday was used for putting up decorations the men made themselves from scraps of this and that, they even made a fireplace with an electric light in it; it looked like a real fireplace, they made an amazing job.[812]
There were actually three fireplaces in the hut, constructed of painted cardboard and coloured paper. A fan was connected with the light bulb to give the effect of smoke and flames. Even the Japanese guards liked it.[813] As Capt. Reid noted, “Christmas was a star day.”[814]
Sham Shui Po Camp, August, 1943
With another 400 Canadians having left for Japan, there was a certain amount of reorganizing in the camp. One of the changes involved Ray Squires who was now in charge of the “Canadian skin ward” in the hospital.[815] Another change occurred on August 20 when twenty senior officers, including Capt. Billings, were transferred from Sham Shui Po to the Argyle Street Camp which was occupied primarily by officers.[816]
In late August, bombing raids which had occurred about a month earlier started up again. On September 2, Ray Squires recorded in his diary that they were happening up to three times a day. On one occasion twenty-one oil tanks about a mile away across the bay were hit.
While they were fighting the fire two [American] fighters came down with motors cut off and machine-gunned the beach and fire fighters. They came within 100 feet or less of the water and were not touched by the machine gun fire. We had a wonderful view.[817]
As he had pointed out earlier, these raids were looked upon as an optimistic sign and created a bit of a morale boost for the men.
Of course, the main thing that lifted the spirits of POWs was mail from home. Although for most of 1943 distribution of letters was somewhat irregular, generally about 100 letters a month arrived in camp for the Canadian prisoners.[818] Some like Wally Normand didn’t receive any mail,[819] but others were more lucky. Ray Squires got one on September 25 that had been sent in May, 1942. He also received two more letters in October.[820]
The outgoing mail situation was even worse. The men were allowed to send only two small cards every three months, and as of the end of October they were restricted to twenty-five words or less.[821] Obviously, you couldn’t communicate much in such a short message, as indicated by one of Don Beaton’s cards written about that time:
Dear Parents:
DELIGHTED with Mary’s letter. Glad all is well. Don’t worry as I am quite well. Anticipate family reunion.
Fondest love for all
Lovingly
Don [822]
If mail was the primary morale booster, the musical shows that continued to be produced, in spite of the draft-reduced numbers, came a close second. Two major shows complete with elaborate sets and costumes were mounted in the fall of 1943: the opera “La Czigane” in October and an original musical revue, “Blue Rose” in November.[823] All the preparations were certainly a diversion for those involved and the final result gave the hundreds of POWs in the audience an enjoyable respite, plus numerous topics for conversation in the days following. The available roster for these productions was reduced again on December 15 when another draft left for Japan taking 504 POWs from Sham Shui Po. Ninety-eight Canadians, including L/Cpl. Ted Kurluk, R.C.C.S were selected.[824]
There were now about 300 Canadians left in camp. Ray Squires, in spite of poor health, continued to work in the hospital, in charge of the “skin ward.” A bout of dysentery in late November, a case of “hot feet” which kept him awake at night, and failing eyesight due to vitamin deficiency were all recorded in his diary.[825] Although food rations had been reduced, Christmas was an occasion to improve the menu, at least for a day. It included chocolate, porridge, bully beef pie, cocoa, cake, tomato soup, fish, pudding and fruit sauce.[826] A midnight service held on Christmas eve attracted about 200 participants, but other than that it doesn’t appear there was much of a celebration of Christmas, 1943 at Sham Shui Po.[827]
Niigata Camp 5B, Japan, September, 1943
When the 276 Canadians arrived in Niigata, the permanent prison camp facilities had yet to be completed. A temporary building, about 110 feet long and 30 feet wide, divided into twenty-four small stables was used to house the men. Then 300 Americans arrived in October to join the Canadians in camp, making accommodation extremely crowded.[828] Rifleman Ken Cambon described their situation:
There was no place to move around in the barracks. We were confined to an area hardly larger than the space sufficient for each person to lie down. I remember the building as consisting of about ten large rooms, separated from each other by paper walls, connected by a hall that ran down one side of the structure. Thirty people were crammed into each room. We were each given a cotton blanket and a hard little pillow.[829]
Water, washing and toilet facilities were totally inadequate – one outdoor pump, no washing facilities, and outdoor toilets that were overwhelmed by the large POW population, many of whom were suffering from diarrhea.[830]
One of the first things the men had to do when they arrived was learn Japanese numbers so they could participate in the frequent roll calls. Each prisoner was assigned a number which was displayed on his shirt or tunic. Saying the number in Japanese and the method of counting had to be learned quickly. For those like Rolly D’Amours who had some understanding of Japanese, this wasn’t a problem. But according to Grenadier Tom Forsyth’s diary, the task proved difficult for many, and mistakes during the roll call meant a beating from the Japanese Orderly Sergeant.[831] Apparently, another Japanese requirement was keeping a diary. Each POW was given a small booklet with orders that it be kept up to date.
However, with general conditions deteriorating rapidly in camp 5B the practice of maintaining them soon fell apart. Dysentery and chronic diarrhoea were common and most POWs were affected. With no toilet paper available the diaries and any other paper soon disappeared.…[832]
Within days of their arrival the men were put to work. Niigata 5B provided labourers for three operations: the Rinko Coal Yard, the Marutsu Dockyard, and the Shintetsu Foundry.[833] The toughest and most dangerous work was on the Rinko crew. Howie Naylor, prisoner number 113, was assigned to this group.[834] Walter Jenkins (#154) worked on the dockyard crew,[835] and Rolly D’Amours, Ernie Dayton and Mel Keyworth (#65) were put in the foundry group.[836]
According to the medical officer in the camp, Major Stewart (R.A.M.C.), this crew was assigned numbers 25-76, and eventually moved to a separate nearby camp.[837] Walter Jenkins later described the work situation:
…but I was lucky I was out on the long-shoring and we could steal stuff. You know, we’d steal beans and things like this. The guys that worked in the coal yard I used to feel they were really on the bottom. That was hell, that was, working out in the cold in their bare feet in this coal yards, you know.[838]
Even though the dockyard assignment had its occasional rewards, it was still an inhospitable and tough place to work. Tom Forsyth’s diary entries from that fall document poor working conditions, exposure to the rain, wind and snow, with no proper outdoor clothing, no mitts, worn out socks and boots, blistered and infected feet and hands, and constant heavy labour. Just to make things worse, any Canadians who still had their woolen battle dress were forced to hand it over to the Japanese, eventually to be replaced by old Japanese uniforms which were in very bad shape.[839]
At the coal yard, working conditions were no better. Generally the jobs consisted of either carrying heavy sacks, or loading and pushing coal cars along a trestle about twenty-five feet above the ground. Working on the slippery trestle without proper footwear proved to be a treacherous and occasionally fatal occupation.[840] Even when the men were given straw raincoats as protection from the wet, they soon became saturated and added to the dangers of working on the trestle.[841]
Those POWs assigned to work in the Shintetsu Iron Foundry had one clear advantage over the other two work groups – they were most often working inside. They thus avoided the bone-chilling cold and wet weather, which for many Niigata prisoners led to chronic chest colds and often pneumonia, the cause of numerous deaths at the camp.[842]
With poor diet, terrible living conditions and forced heavy labour, simple survival became the main objective for the POWs at Niigata 5B. Between late October and the end of December, Forsyth’s diary mentions forty-two deaths.[843] When Major Stewart arrived at the end of October, he determined that only about ten percent of the men were fit for work. Some were very weak and could hardly walk. Many others, like Walter Jenkins, went to work even though they were sick. Being struck with sticks by their Japanese captors was intended to discourage them from asking for sick leave. Even so, about 150 had been excused from work due to malnutrition, beriberi, pneumonia and dysentery, a figure that rose to 240 before the end of the year.[844]
Beatings were common and often brutal. Walter Jenkins recalled,
They asked us whether we wanted to go to the guardhouse or do you want to get beat up. Well, we’d say, “Be my guest. Give me a couple of belts.” They’d give you – they’re little guys, and they give you a couple of shots – maybe a bang on the face and you’d get a black eye or something out of it, and that would be the end of it because that was their type of discipline. You know, I got two black eyes once; I forgot what the hell it was for. I think I didn’t get out on parade quick enough and a guy belted me and I hit my other side of the head on the wall and I had two black eyes.[845]
It wasn’t just the Japanese guards who mistreated the POWs. Rolly D’Amours wrote about an incident involving Japanese civilian workers:
In November, 1943 I was beaten very badly by five Japanese workmen. Usually when someone was beaten the way I was beaten, he usually died and the cause of death was listed as pneumonia.[846]
Rolly ended up being off work for three weeks because of his injuries.
In a life that could be described charitably as “miserable,” there were a few things that brought some pleasure to the POWs at Niigata. In early November, the men were allowed to have their first hot bath since arriving in Japan.[847] This later became a somewhat regular event. About this time, the men began to receive some token pay for their work.[848] Rolly D’Amours brought back examples of ten and fifty sen notes in Japanese military currency issued to him while at Niigata. Of course, there wasn’t much to spend it on, but some cookies and the occasional orange (at five sen each) could add a small bit of brightness to another bad Niigata day.[849]
As was the case throughout their whole period of incarceration, no matter which camp they were in, the best moments for the POWs had to do with mail. A large number of letters for the Canadians arrived in Camp 5B on October 17 and was distributed over the next few days.[850] On the 21st they were given paper and envelopes so they could write letters home. Choosing words that would pass the Japanese censors would have been a most difficult chore.
With the winter weather setting in, conditions in the temporary quarters became even worse. It was so cold in the hut that the men could see their breath.[851] Straw was brought in to cover the concrete floor, including the latrine, which, because of overcrowding had to be used as a sleeping area.[852] On December 24, the men got word that they would be moving to a new, permanent camp about a mile away. The prisoners had to make three trips, first carrying their personal belongings, then returning for a load of blankets and straw and then again for more straw.[853] Any thoughts they had that the new camp would be an improvement were quickly dashed. The buildings had not been completed, there were no windows or doors, no kitchen facilities, and no heat or water supply.[854] The accommodation hut had no solid floor, just sand. There were, however, bunks – two tiers of them; the upper level close to the open, draughty peak of the roof had to be reached by climbing a shaky ladder.[855]
Christmas, 1943, for the POWs at Niigata 5B, was a particularly depressing day. Tom Forsyth wrote in his diary:
Clear and cold. Had to go to foundry, a two-mile march, and carry breakfast back in big wooden buckets. It was spaghetti, not enough to go around…. Everyone is hungry. Everything in a turmoil. Nothing organized, confusion reigns. We were herded out and had our pictures taken, then the long wait for dinner, after one o’clock, none in sight, sky clouded over, beginning to rain, a cheerless prospect. Dinner finally arrived, a very small portion of rice, a little spaghetti. Then we were issued with four small oranges, just culls, miserable wizened specimens and a few sweet biscuits. The only bright spot in the day was when each man got 6 oz of bully beef and a piece of bread for supper. This is a bitter Christmas. We were hoping for mail.[856]
Their homes and families in Canada must have seemed very far away.
Canada, September, 1943
In Chilliwack, B.C., September 13 was a memorable day for the Dayton family. They finally received a letter from their son Ernie, who at the time was just becoming accustomed to his new surroundings in Niigata, Japan.[857] His June, 1942 letter and those of Don Penny and other Hong Kong POWs were in a batch which had arrived in Ottawa earlier in the month. They had been reviewed by Canadian officials and were now making their way across the country to anxious families.
Similar excitement occurred in many homes during the next month as new radio broadcasts from Japan were picked up by short-wave listeners and transcripts sent to families of the POW messengers. Signalman Jack Rose’s broadcast was read on October 4. In it he noted that he had received letters and that “he has read them over and over and that they bring the greatest happiness to him.” He also mentioned the names of a number of men with him at the camp, including Signals George Grant, Art Robinson, Bob Acton, Johnny Douglas, Don Penny, Lee Speller and Gerry Gerrard.
Sigmn. Rose sends his deepest sympathies to Mrs. Ernest Thomas of Vancouver, and Mrs. S.F. White of Abbotsford, and adds that he was deeply grieved at the passing of Ernie and Wesley.
He goes on to say that living and food conditions in the camp are fair and the time passes quickly due to the fact that they are working every day.[858]
On October 21, Don Penny’s message was broadcast.
Read by announcer
Donald Alfred Penny, 3256 West 2nd Ave., Vancouver, B.C., Age 23, Canadian Army, captured in Hong Kong.
Dear Mother, Dad and family. This is your son, Don, a prisoner of war in a camp near Tokyo. I sincerely hope you are all in the best of health and spirits. I am fine and morale is high. I was very thrilled to receive some of your letters and glad to hear that everything is okay there. Tell Mrs. Douglas that Johnny is here with me and in the best of health. Well, my dear Mother, give my love to the family and my best regards to my friends, and I hope to be with you all soon.
The following boys send best regards to their families and friends in Vancouver and Victoria: Lionel Speller, John Beaton, Horace Gerrard, Leonard Ellis, Art Robinson, Jack Rose, Ernest West, Tom Barton, Tony Grimston, George Grant, Bob Acton, Ernie Dayton, Hank Mayberry, Howie Naylor, and Jack Goodey.[859]
The most interesting thing about his message is the mention of Don Beaton, Tony Grimston, Ernie Dayton and Howie Naylor. All four were still in Hong Kong when Don left for Japan on January 19, 1943. Why their names were included, but not others from B.C. remains another unanswered question regarding communications between the POWs and their families back in Canada.
Notification and transcripts of this message were sent to Don’s family in Vancouver from many locations in North America and from far away as Australia and South Africa. In a letter to a Signal Corps acquaintance, Mr. and Mrs. Penny shared their emotional thoughts:
Thanks so much for your message regarding the broadcast from Japan.
Yes, through the kindness of some people who phoned we were able to pick up the message at night, but there was apparently a broadcast in the morning around 8 A.M. our time and from what we can learn was really spoken by Don himself.
It was eleven months before we had any word about him, after Hong Kong fell, but since have had two letters from him, both received about 6 weeks ago. One was written in June of 1942 and the other was dated March of this year.
Seeing his handwriting really convinced us that he was really there and at least able to write.
We see Mrs. Douglas quite often and she was pleased to know Johnny was o.k.
I am busy answering letters we received, giving us the message and we had a lot of telephone calls also, it’s nice to know there are so many people with a thought for others, letters came from all parts of the U.S.A. and Canada.[860]
In early December, the family received more communication from Don – a card written on May 28, 1943, and his letter of July 29 – both sent from Japan. The Pennys could count themselves among the fortunate, having received three letters, a card, and a radio message, all in the space of three months. Most other families weren’t so lucky. On December 6, Col. Clarke wrote again from Ottawa to all “Next-of-Kin of Canadian Prisoners of War in the Far East.”
A consignment of mail, among which were 979 letters from Canadian Prisoners of War in the Far East, arrived on the “Gripsholm” a few days ago. I realise that many relatives and friends will be greatly disappointed at not receiving a letter at this time, especially in cases where the prisoner is interned at Hong Kong. It has, however, been ascertained that most of the letters have come from prison camps in Japan and only a very few from Hong Kong. The reason for this is that although the Japanese exchange vessel called at Hong Kong to pick up the civilians who were being exchanged, no mail was put on board at that point, apparently because the Japanese authorities insist that all mail from Hong Kong must first be sent to Japan to be censored. This causes great delay. The only mail from Hong Kong in this shipment, therefore, consists of letters sent some time ago from Hong Kong to Japan.
I hope that if you have not received a letter, you will not take this as an indication that there may be something the matter with your dear one who is a prisoner. Lists of casualties now come forward regularly and as you have not been notified in this regard, you have every reason to believe that he is safe, even though he has not been given an opportunity to write to you.
The latest information about food conditions is that the rations are only fairly satisfactory, and it has been learned from civilian internees repatriated from Hong Kong that relief supplies and medicines there were sufficient to last up to the end of October. In this connection, a large consignment of food and medicines for the Far East was shipped on the “Gripsholm” in September last, and the Canadian authorities are doing everything possible to ensure that these are made available at Hong Kong and other points without delay. These supplies are estimated to be sufficient to augment the prisoners’ rations and medical supplies furnished by the Japanese for six months.
For your information, the Canadian Government has arranged for a sum of money to be given to each prisoner at Christmas.[861]
If the money was enclosed in the 1943 Christmas greeting cards sent to the POWs by the Prime Minister, most had to wait a long time before they could spend it. Don Penny saved the card and brought it back with him after the war. In the lower left corner he wrote: “Rec’d Feb. 13, 1945.”[862]
Photo Gallery
Camps in Japan
POW Photos
(Photos below courtesy of Catherine Penny, Gerry Gerrard, Leslie Henderson, Lee Naylor)
Don Penny. Taken at Tokyo Camp #5 (later 3D) in July, 1943
Gerry Gerrard. Taken at Tokyo Camp #5 (later 3D) in July, 1943
Mel Keyworth. Taken at Niigata in November, 1943
Howie Naylor. Taken at Niigata in November, 1943
Other R.C.C.S. POW photos taken in July, 1943
These and photos of other prisoners were put together in a 3D camp composite (possibly by Capt. John Reid).
(Courtesy of Ron McGuire)
Bob Acton
Johnny Douglas
Jim Mitchell
George Grant
Lee Speller
POW Items - Don Penny
Medical Trust Fund Receipt, Tokyo Camp #5
(Courtesy of Catherine Penny)
Message to POWs in 1943. Received at Sendai, Japan in February, 1945
(Courtesy of Catherine Penny)
Chapter 5: Prisoners of War - 1943 - Notes
[603] Laite, Jan.1, 1943
[604] Ebdon Diary, Jan. 6, 1943
[605] Laite, Jan. 8, 1943
[606] DHH, 593.D7
[607] Squires: 13
[608] Beaton family files
[609] Allister: 102
[610] Laite, Jan. 13, 1943
[611] Reid: 23
[612] DHH 593. D7
[613] ibid.
[614] Squires, C. Roland interview: 10
[615] Gerrard, author interview
[616] Mitchell, author interview
[617] Allister: 102
[618] Reid: 22
[619] Ebdon, Jan. 14, 17, 1943
[620] Laite, Jan. 20, 1943
[621] Ebdon, Jan. 19, 1943
[622] Gerrard, p.c.
[623] ibid.
[624] Winnipeg Tribune, Jan. 8, 9, 12, 13, 1943
[625] Winnipeg Tribune, Jan. 13, 1943
[626] James Horvath, Record of Service
[627] Daily Colonist, Jan. 9, 1943
[628] Vancouver Daily Province, Jan. 12, 1943
[629] Winnipeg Tribune, Jan. 15, 1943
[630] DND, Jan. 12, 1943; Penny family files
[631] Laite, Jan. 11, 1943
[632] Don Penny notebook, Penny family files
[633] Roland: 212
[634] Trick Diary, Jan. 19, 1943
[635] Allister: 103
[636] Trick Diary, Jan. 20, 1943
[637] Ebdon, Jan. 19, 1943
[638] NAC, MG 30 E328, File 44
[639] Bell, William, Chapter 7, HKVCA website
[640] Christensen, Frank, HKVCA website
[641] Reid: 18
[642] Reid: 24
[643] Marsh, Tom, Chapter 8, HKVCA website
[644] MacDonell: 106
[645] Allister: 107
[646] Reid: 24
[647] Bérard: 113-115
[648] MacDonell: 106
[649] Gerrard, author interview
[650] Palmer: 62
[651] Marsh, Chapter 8, HKVCA website
[652] DHH 593. D7
[653] Laite, Jan. 21-26, 1943
[654] DHH 593. D7
[655] Fowler: 105
[656] Laite, Feb. 5, 1943
[657] Squires, C. Roland interview: 10
[658] Baird: 159
[659] Jenkins, C. Roland interview: 12
[660] Laite, Feb. 13, 1943
[661] Laite, Feb. 23, 1943
[662] Squires: 12-13
[663] Forsyth: March 9, 1943
[664] Laite, Mar.9, 1943
[665] DHH 593. D7
[666] Laite, Mar. 20, 1943
[667] Squires: 13
[668] Laite, Mar. 20, 1943
[669] Allister: 110
[670] Reid: 31
[671] Bérard: 117
[672] Reid: 27
[673] Marsh: 47
[674] Acton, author interview
[675] Allister: 112
[676] Gerrard, author interview
[677] Acton, author interview
[678] Rose family files
[679] Speller, C. Roland interview: 21
[680] Mitchell, author interview
[681] Reid: 44
[682] Reid: 45
[683] Reid: 46
[684] Speller, C. Roland interview: 39
[685] Penny family files
[686] Verreault: 110-11
[687] Gerrard, author interview
[688] Reid: 42
[689] Reid: 67
[690] Reid: 41-42
[691] Reid: 33-34
[692] Reid: 55
[693] Reid: 64
[694] Reid: 53-54
[695] Reid: 62
[696] Reid: 60
[697] Penny family files
[698] ibid.
[699] Reid: 74
[700] Verreault: 112
[701] Gerrard, p.c.
[702] Reid: 74
[703] Mitchell, author interview
[704] Acton, author interview
[705] Gerrard, author interview
[706] Reid: 71-72
[707] Verreault: 113
[708] Reid: 75
[709] Verreault: 113
[710] Reid: 76
[711] Dancocks: 262
[712] Rose family files
[713] Ellis broadcast transcript, Penny family files
[714] Reid: 129
[715] Verreault: 111
[716] Lori Douglas, p.c.
[717] Allister: 117-118
[718] Allister: 123
[719] Gerrard, author interview
[720] Penny notebook
[721] Allister: 154
[722] Reid: 44, 75, 77
[723] Penny notebook
[724] Reid: 69-70
[725] Gerrard, author interview
[726] Verreault: 114-115
[727] Verreault: 115
[728] Allister: 141-142
[729] Verreault: 117
[730] Verreault: 121
[731] ibid.
[732] Allister: 126
[733] Bérard: 127
[734] Gerrard, author interview
[735] Verreault: 118
[736] Reid: 84-87
[737] McIntosh: 172
[738] Reid: 78-81
[739] Verreault: 118
[740] Penny family files
[741] NAC, Reel C-5069, Dept. of Ext. Affairs, March, 1943
[742] NAC, Reel C-5343, Dept. of Ext. Affairs, April 14, 1943
[743] Transcripts in Penny family files
[744] Penny family files
[745] Tom Redhead, Record of Service
[746] Globe and Mail, July 23, 1943
[747] NAC RG7 G26 Vol. 107
[748] Clarke to A.J. Penny, Aug. 2, 1943, Penny family files
[749] Beaton family files
[750] Globe and Mail, Aug. 17, 1943
[751] DHH 593. D7
[752] Roland: 100
[753] DHH 593. D7
[754] Roland: 100
[755] Beaton family files
[756] Squires: 14
[757] ibid.
[758] Beaton, C. Magill interview
[759] e.g., Baird: 168; Martyn, CWM 58A 1 6.15; Forsyth: 37
[760] Squires: 14
[761] DHH 593. D7
[762] Grimston, p.c.
[763] Forsyth: 37
[764] Fowler: 106
[765] Routledge, VAC website, Canada Remembers
[766] Fowler: 106
[767] Ride: 162
[768] Fowler: 108
[769] Squires: 15
[770] ibid.
[771] Forsyth: 47
[772] Jenkins, C. Roland interview: 13
[773] Squires: 15
[774] Forsyth: 38
[775] Jenkins, C. Roland interview: 15
[776] Forsyth: 38; Atkinson: 29
[777] Atkinson: 29
[778] Cambon: 52
[779] Forsyth: 38
[780] Cambon: 53
[781] Roland: 214
[782] Jenkins, C. Roland interview: 15
[783] Cambon: 55
[784] Cambon: 56
[785] Verreault: 118
[786] Reid: 82
[787] Reid: 104
[788] Douglas family files
[789] Transcripts in Penny family files
[790] Gerrard, author interview
[791] Trick Diary, Oct. 30, 1943
[792] Trick Diary, Nov. 30, 1943
[793] Verreault: 123
[794] Allister: 125
[795] Reid: 96
[796] MacDonell: 109
[797] Allister: 153
[798] Allister: 155
[799] Reid: 40
[800] Verreault: 122
[801] Trick Diary, Oct. 29, 1943
[802] Reid: 92-93
[803] Reid: 32
[804] Allister: 164
[805] Gerrard, p.c.
[806] Reid: 108
[807] Reid: 101, 102, 104
[808] Reid: 109-110
[809] Penny family files
[810] Bérard: 126
[811] Marsh: 65
[812] Reid: 110
[813] Marsh: 66
[814] Reid: 110
[815] Squires: 15
[816] ibid.
[817] ibid.
[818] DHH 593. D7
[819] Normand, p.c.
[820] Squires: 15-16
[821] DHH 593. D7
[822] Beaton family files
[823] Roland: 99
[824] DHH 593. D10
[825] Squires: 16
[826] Squires: 17
[827] Laite, Dec. 26, 1943
[828] Roland: 234
[829] Cambon: 61
[830] Cambon: 56-57
[831] Forsyth: 39
[832] Major Stewart, note on Guiard diary, CWM 58A 1 214.11
[833] Roland: 241-243
[834] Naylor family, p.c.
[835] Forsyth: 39
[836] Pierre D’Amours and Leslie (Keyworth) Henderson, p.c.; Chilliwack Progress, Oct. 10, 1945
[837] Stewart, CWM 58A 1 214.17
[838] Jenkins, C. Roland interview: 17
[839] Forsyth: 38-40
[840] Roland: 240
[841] Cambon: 58
[842] Stewart, CWM 58A 1 214.18
[843] Forsyth: 39-43
[844] Cambon: 68-70
[845] Jenkins, C. Roland interview: 32
[846] D’Amours, Chapter 11: 3
[847] Forsyth: 390; Guiard, Nov. 3, 1943
[848] Guiard, Nov. 6, 1943
[849] Guiard, Nov. 17, 1943
[850] Guiard, Oct. 17, 1943; Forsyth: 39
[851] Forsyth: 40
[852] Roland: 234
[853] Forsyth: 43
[854] Cambon: 70
[855] Forsyth: 43
[856] ibid.
[857] Chilliwack Progress, Sept. 19, 1945
[858] Rose message transcript, Penny family files
[859] Penny message transcript, Penny family files
[860] October 28, 1943, Penny family files
[861] Penny family files
[862] ibid.