I had an experience in Camp D3 of wholesale slapping that at the time was very distressing but which I can now recollect with some amusement. There were about twenty men in the double bay in which we slept, all laying on wooden platforms. It was midnight. The huts were ghostlike and fitfully lighted by the moon. Men tossed in uneasy sleep, bitten by fleas and bugs and run over by the occasional rat.
All was dark and quiet at midnight when the sentry made his rounds. He came into our bay, shone his flashlight on the sleeping forms then onto a board we used as a table. On this was an ashtray. It was supposed to be emptied and cleaned before we retired. Some ash had, however, been left in it. The sentry chose to regard this as a positive sign that someone had been smoking after ‘Lights Out.’ Therefore we were all awakened by his loud cries, “ KOO DA! KOO DA! YATAKI! YATAKI!” (Meaning get up, get up.) Those who were slow in obeying this order were thumped with his rifle butt. Half awake we crept out of our blankets. Some were naked others were in makeup nightgowns. One chap, I remember had a long nightshirt, a women’s nightgown he had picked up somewhere. The Jap guards, when in good humor, used to laugh at this gown, stand the man at attention, lift the gown and look at his legs. This night however the guard was in a vile humor. He stood us in two rows facing each other, still half asleep and groping in the half-light. He demanded to know who had been smoking.
The sentry moved down the line stopping in front of each man and asked if he had been smoking. When he received a negative reply he slapped the man. After slapping every man in the group he seemed to tire of this and decided we must all be punished. He ordered that we were to slap each other. At his signal all were to reach over and slap the man in front of him. There was a chap named Guy Stewart facing me and we exchanged perfunctory taps. “ Hit harder!” shrieked the Jap.
Still not awake and annoyed at the whole proceedings, I involuntarily hauled off and gave Stewart quite a smack. He retaliated with a hearty one. I returned the compliment. Now both awake we realized where we were and what we were doing and felt rather sheepish. From then on we traded love taps until our tormentor called a halt and allowed us to retire. It must have made a weird sight. Twenty emaciated prisoners, some still under the impression they were dreaming, some naked, others with only G-strings on, slapping each other to the accompanying cries of a little yellow devil with a flashlight ... Just a little corner of Hell on earth.
There is a sadistic trait in the Japanese, as I believe there is in many Eastern races. I saw that cruelty and callousness to the suffering of others was common. For one Japanese that made a gesture of helpfulness towards the prisoners there were ten who sought the opportunity to torture, annoy, and humiliate us. They were only prevented from destroying us by the fact that their higher ups believed that we might be of some use. First as hostages to compel further surrender and secondly as slave labor.
Their treatment of the Chinese was not governed by these considerations and therefore they seldom bothered to take them prisoner. If they did they soon executed them. I have heard the saying ‘Not a Chinaman’s chance.’ Well the Chinaman had little chance when he met the Jap. At Hong Kong any Jap soldier could kill a Chinaman and no questions were asked even after the battle.
At North Point prison camp, on the Island of Hong Kong, the Chinese had been driven out to make room for the white prisoners, however these refugees still hung around the camp. Homeless and starving they would try to obtain a scrap of food or a piece of wood for fuel. They stole anything they could lay their hands on. The Jap guard at the camp sometimes caught them and beat them with rifle butts. Once, as a warning to others, they hung two Chinese women, a mother and her daughter, by their thumbs outside the gate. They hung there until they died.
There was a small window in the hospital hut out of which I could see a portion of the prison yard. Along the side of this yard there had once been flowerbeds. Although neglected, some of these flowers still bloomed. One afternoon I saw a party of Jap soldiers lead a Chinaman to one of these flowerbeds. They gave him a shovel and made him dig a hole. When he was finished they forced him to kneel down. They cut off his head with a heavy sword and kicked his body into the hole without bothering to cover it. Then they started to pick the flowers. When each had a little bunch they came into the hospital hut and put them on our beds, smiling blandly. What a nice gesture. From one gallant foe to another as it were.
