I asked for, and got, permission to stand under the hole once a day for about ten minutes to get some sunlight. I told the captain I would die and the general would kill him if I didn’t get some sun. The Chinese also took turns to do the same. It took two months to get an assembly line thing going properly and half of the poor Bleedy Chinese and Indians died. The soldiers with us were all almost in the same awful shape as we were. God! But it was a rich seam.’
‘Akiro says he has never seen the site. Gensui Teizo Kawaguchi and General Atuzawa didn’t want anyone to know about that mine ever! Anyone who was sent there, was there for good. Japanese as well as the rest of us, though the poor Bleedy Japs didn’t know that. We learned at the end of the war from your father that when a new Jap shift was sent to the mine to guard us, the returning soldiers were killed on the way out!’
Mac was getting tired and Aziz called a halt to the story. Ah Keat called the servants to bring fresh clothes and towels to the four men in the room who took turns to shower and change for dinner and they talked quietly as they sat together before the meal was ready. Aziz told Yoshiro that the mine yielded a fortune in gold and went on producing until the war ended.
They ate in Mac’s room on a table set up at the end of the bed. Yoshiro asked what would happen if the house was attacked?
Aziz said, ‘There are men guarding every road, and men around the house. We will be safe.’
Yoshiro wanted to hear the rest of Mac’s story and Aziz agreed though Ah Keat was against tiring the man. Mac had the last say and when they had eaten and were once again sitting around his bed, he began where he had left off. He glossed over the hell of the years spent at the mine and took up the story at the point where the Japanese were becoming increasingly worried about the way the war was going for them.
‘Towards the end of 1943,’ Mac began, ‘there had been a change in the dreadful routine of that first year. The soldiers were shooting their own meat and the aborigines were supplying coconuts and jungle vegetables to the camp. A weird kind of friendship had grown between those few Malayans still alive, us two westerners and the soldiers. We shared food and, though the Japanese stood sentry duty at night, there was no threat that the men would run. The soldiers were forced to work in the mine as well as do duty and that was a leveller.’
‘Fewer Japanese came to replace the men who were made to carry the gold out every month or two. Instead of ten or twelve as before, two or three men arrived. A Lieutenant Colonel named Ito was in control for about five months. He was soon showing signs of tension and rarely spoke. He was a decent man who talked to the young Japanese and tried to comfort those who broke down. Men do, you know, when living in a jungle for months at a time being forced to work like a slave. Being a Japanese soldier was no picnic at any time, they were routinely abused by their commanders - bashed for small mistakes. The mine was no different, except that the bashing and brutalizing stopped under Lieutenant Colonel Ito. We were not manhandled as much either. We lived in dread that he would be recalled.’
‘Like I said, working like slaves was a leveller. John and I had talked of running but we knew from the aborigines who sometimes appeared that escape was virtually impossible. Staying alive was our primary goal and as we heard from the little jungle folk about the state of the war, our hopes rose a bit. It was amazing how much those folks knew. Things like the lack of rice and food stuffs. They laughed at the incompetence of the army who couldn’t feed itself properly when food was in the jungle and on foot for the taking. We, it transpired were better fed than was the army until Takafusa arrived!’
Mac shifted his position and said, ‘I am sorry, I am supposed to be telling you what happened and here I am maundering on about life in the jungle. Shit, I am old.’
Yoshiro leaned forward and touched his hand. ‘You bring my father’s life alive for me, but you must not tire yourself,’ he said.
‘My boy, I have little time and I mustn’t waste it. Where was I? Colonel Takafuza! Oh yes - we had a visit from him. An overweight, nasty little bastard. It must have been towards the end of 1944. He was there to change things. He brought a new bunch of soldiers. We were to move ourselves and our picks and shovels to a new location. They herded us together and marched us back into the jungle. But not on the same track that the army used to get to us. Takafusa had a compass and walked behind us swearing. We had to fight our way through the jungle again with no idea where we were going. The soldiers who had been with us for almost six months were gone and the new lot were savages.’
‘There was a corporal in charge but he was as sick as a dog. Those soldiers cursed him for all they were worth. It didn’t help, but it relieved their feelings. The poor buggers didn’t know where we were half the time either. John and I were in a bit better nick than most of them. An aborigine whom we called Pie, because he picked up words easily like a magpie, spoke some English and Japanese, though the Japs didn’t know that. He was a clever little rascal and was the one who saved us in the end, bless him. He knew where they wanted to go. We found out later that he knew where a better path out was, but since they didn’t ask, he didn’t tell them! As far as he was concerned, we were all mad anyway! No one cared as long as we got out of that filthy jungle.’
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