The Tokyo Civil Police, a smart body of men with neat blue uniform, shiny boots and a small silver sword, were well on the job. They brought the Jap to our camp where he identified one of the prisoners (I shall name him Smith). Smith was seized and asked to name his companion. He refused and was given a beating.
The next day they lined up all the prisoners and asked Smith to point out the man. Again he refused and received more beatings. Then we were told that if the man did not come forward we would all be punished … still no confession. Now Smith was led up to each of the prisoners in turn and the prisoner was asked, “ Did you trade the boots with Smith.”
All replied “No”, until they came to the guilty party. Smith then muttered, “Come on! Own up! I’ve taken enough beatings for you.”
So his confederate confessed and they both were hauled away to jail in Tokyo, and this was the extraordinary thing, they both got better food and treatment than they were receiving in camp. They came back heavier than when they left, reporting that the food was good, the jail clean and warm and they were never beaten. They just sat around without working and had met the intelligentsia of Tokyo, diplomats, politicians and bankers, while exercising in the prison yard. Also they had been issued with warm padded clothing and to prove it they produced a fine jacket that they had swiped from the police station. Right then and there we all wanted to go to jail.
Our underworld consisted of about nine tough characters. Living so closely together we had come to know them and therefore when some particular skullduggery was afoot it could usually be traced to their vicinity. So it was at camp D3. My friend Allister lost his sweater. Obviously it had been stolen. Now a sweater was essential to offset the cold winter. It could not be replaced and meant that the loser would suffer real hardship.
Allister reported his loss to Captain Reid. All Captain Reid had to do was to call the nine men of our underworld before him and say, “I know one of you has the sweater. If the one who has it does not return it to Allister before morning I will turn the whole nine of you over to the Japs and let them locate the culprit.”
They departed and sagely talked it over. They knew what would happen if the Japs started working on them so it was decided that whoever had the sweater should give it back and the guilty one accordingly returned Allister’s sweater. The rest of the boys in the hut were indignant and decided to punish the thief. Here is the matter of one prisoner beating another. They dared not report to the Jap and they had no other means of punishment so they took the thief outside and gave him a beating. They dragged him before Allister and said, “ Come on, take a good poke at him! It was your sweater!” After some urging Allister gently tapped the cringing one on the cheek and then departed. I said to him later, “ Why didn’t you give him a good one. He deserved it.” Allister replied, “I was so happy at getting my sweater back that I couldn’t feel mad!” Such is the difference in human nature.
Tom Marsh - Chapter 17 - Slaphappy Japs
The Japanese practice of slapping all and sundry, so prevalent among their own troops, was extended to the prisoners. I have told of Officers, NCOs and men being beaten among the prisoners. This slap in the face was often an almost childish exhibition of temper. At other times it was mean and vicious the forerunner to blows by fist, belt, boot or rifle butt. The Japanese Commandant at one of our camps was surprised that our officers did not beat the men. He asked, “ How do you punish them?” He was told the truth. “ Oh we put them in solitary confinement and just feed them bread and water.” So the next prisoner to be punished by the Nips was put into a pen by himself. No work and real bread to eat. The Japs noticed this, shook their heads saying they could not understand how this could be punishment and put the man back to work.
The Japanese private is slapped often by his Officers and sometimes severely beaten. I saw a guard being inspected by a Jap Major at Sham Shui Po Camp. The Major was in a towering rage, possibly half drunk on Sake. The Guard stood ridged to attention, NCOs as well as privates. After abusing them the Major took off his heavy leather belt and swinging the buckle end knocked down the man at the end of the line. Immediately two of his comrades bent smartly and carried him into the guardhouse. They returned and took their places in line. The Major then knocked down another. He was smartly carried away. Finally they were all knocked down and carried away except the last two who were left laying in the road as their Major strutted off. I thought ‘What an efficient Guard is left at the gate.’ The Major must have felt like the tailor who swatted six flies with one blow.
