At last I got back to the paint shop without detection. The Paint master himself greeted me and wanted to know where I had been. As I was trying to tell a plausible story little fish fell out of my sleeves and overalls. I then told him the truth and we went into the office where I emptied the fish into a pail. He said he should report me to the guard but as they would take away the fish it would be better that nobody say anything and that he and I eat the fish that evening. We did. They were delicious.
At the same camp at a time when we were down to the barest minimum of sustenance we once got for our evening meal, along with our cupful of rice, one small sprat apiece. This was a welcome treat and everyone watched with greedy eyes as they were distributed one to each man’s bowl. Then just as we were prepared to seize the delicacy the lights went out. Commands were shouted, “Hold everything. Stay where you are. Nobody move.”
It was a full fifteen minutes before the lights came on. Then horror. One of the little fish was missing.
Everyone looked suspiciously at his neighbors. Movement of the jaws was looked for. Men turned out their pockets. Curses were cried on the thief. After a half hour search a tiny piece was cut off each man’s fish to make up the missing portion and we ate. The topic of the week was ‘Who stole the fish.’
That night one of the boys was discovered secretly devouring a fish in bed. He claimed he had saved it from his supper. But now when his old comrades meet him they say to themselves, ‘He stole the fish.
With so much dire necessity there was bound to be a certain amount of pilfering and this was divided into two kinds, that directed against the Japs was OK with the boys but against a fellow prisoner was considered a serious crime. Fortunately there was very little of the latter. As far as the Japs were concerned the prisoners stole anything they could carry away, mainly food and fuel.
At the shipyards the Japanese workmen would bring their lunch boxes or rice and bits of this and that and place them in orderly rows at the back of the shipyard kitchen where, before lunchtime, they would be warmed up. Our boys soon located this display of food and on different pretenses would sneak back into the kitchen. Sure enough when they did some ones dinner would be missing. It got so bad that the Japs had to put a special guard on their cookhouse.
At the Sendai Coal Mining Camp I remember an Imperial soldier being caught by the Japs as he was stealing food from a pig trough. The Japanese Commandant decided to humiliate him, and indirectly all of us, by having the trough brought out on the square. Filling it with swill they drew a line and made the culprit crawl on his hands and knees from the line to the trough and eat. Many of the prisoners, myself included, were ashamed to see one of their own people so humiliated, but the victim did not seem to mind. Grinning broadly he scrambled up to the trough, put his face into the swill and ate. A short while later, after liberation, I saw this same lad singing in the choir of a camp Thanksgiving service. He sang heartily. Evidently the swill did not affect his outlook.
