I did not know how far we would have to march but I knew it couldn’t be over seven miles as we were approaching Hong Kong. Seven miles is like a hundred when one is wounded and parched with thirst. I had not drunk since the night before. Many of the prisoners had probably gone longer without water.
I do not want to dwell on the details of this march for the sake of a horror story or for the opportunity of boasting of my own powers of endurance. However I do wish to let the reader know the extent of deliberate cruelty and indifference to others reached by the Jap.
Our group, like the others, was tied back to back. This meant that some of us had to walk sideways or even backwards. The big Englishman who was tied wrist to wrist with me was in a bad way. He was delirious and kept stumbling and falling. His companions in our group kept urging him to keep up but he dragged on me and we dragged on the rest. The stronger took the lead with the result that the weaker, like myself, were forced to walk sideways. Naturally our pace was slow. Fortunately we were not in the leading group for they set the pace being beaten, as we all were, to do so. At times the groups became so strung out that the leaders halted until they closed up again. We were the object of curiosity and evident satisfaction of every Jap that rode or marched by. Men were already falling from exhaustion. They were probed to their feet by bayonets and forced to continue the march.
It was evident to whoever was in charge of the party that he would never get us very far at the rate we were going. A halt was called beside a spring where a Jap soldier stood with his helmet full of water. As the prisoners reached him they bent over and drank. This took time and we were all grateful for the rest.
When my turn came I bent over but my leg was so stiff and my neck muscles so sore that I could barely reach the water. I had drunk only a very little when I lost my balance. My face fell into the helmet and almost knocked it out of the soldier’s hand. As I was struggling to my feet he raised the helmet and struck me in the face with it. In spite of this blow the little water that I did drink, and that which had splashed over me, refreshed me somewhat. Sergeant Pugsley, of A Company, who was in the party following mine, was certain at the time that I would collapse on the road, but he later told me that I seemed to pick up quite a bit after my encounter with the water carrier.
We passed from the main road to another that ran along the side of a cliff. Along the road, a little above us, Japanese troops were hurrying to the scene of combat. A group of these, evidently shock troops, broke away from their formation when they saw the prisoners and came bounding down the slope in high spirits with fixed bayonets with the evident intention of having some enjoyment by bayonet practice on our miserable carcasses. Luckily, for us, their own Officers restrained them by shouting and beating them with swords, returning them to their own ranks. This outfit evidently had no time to waste on prisoners and their column hurried on. Not so with us. We were going slower and slower. Men were falling now who could not get up and the others were dragging them. Orders must have been given to cut these men loose for we heard screams and later passed the bodies of unfortunates who, after being freed, were bayoneted and left by the roadside. I thought of falling down for good, come what may, but hearing these screams I decided to keep going as long as my weary and stiffened limbs would allow. I was past feeling heat, dust, or wounds. I was smothered in a sort of coma. I, like the rest, just staggered along, at every few paces trying to avoid a stumbling companion.
The big Englishman was in serious difficulties. In spite of the pleadings, mutters and curses from our group he continued to fall down. Each time he would be butted by the rifle of the guard, pulled to his feet by the others and made to stumble on. This is where I first met that phenomenon of misery and captivity. The greater misfortunes of others often tend to mitigate one’s own sufferings. The big Englishman, being beaten each time he fell, received most of the attention of our guard. His falling also gave us a breathing spell. But finally he could rise no more. We were halted. Wire cutters were produced. The Englishman was cut loose and kicked to the side of the road. I heard his scream of agony as they bayoneted him and threw his body over the cliff.
