The Japanese propaganda machine at work

The Japs lost no time in setting their very efficient propaganda machine to work.  Above the Aloon-aloon,  the enlarged counterpart of our village green, rose a huge captive balloon on which was inscribed in Malay the equivalent of 'Long live great Asia'.  Posters appeared all over the town stating that the Dutch currency was not to be considered valid and bearing illustration of Jap bank notes which were coming into circulation, the so called 'banana' money with which the Japanese flooded all occupied territory.

The local newspaper quickly showed signs of Japanese supervision but surprisingly the local radio station was permitted to broadcast messages to and from 'displaced' persons seeking contact with relatives.  Rashly, the announcer persisted in closing down with the playing of the 'Wilhelmus', the Dutch national anthem.  He did it once too often and the Japs shot him.

Although business had come practically to a standstill we still went to the office each morning, just like a hen which keeps running on until it realised its head had been chopped off.  The banks had been closed immediately by the Japs and that in itself was sufficient to bring trade to a standstill.  Our office premises were more more like a boarding house as this time as the whole of the British male staff of the P&T (Anglo Dutch Plantations) had gratefully accepted our offer to take up temporary residence there until such time as they should succeed in finding more suitable accommodation.

The British women and children from the P&T Soebang had been evacuated from Tjilatjap at the end of February and it was actually more than three years later before anxious husbands and fathers learned that their ship had reached Australia safely.

During this week, all officers and men of the forces had been interned temporarily in schools and other buildings but daily contact was possible and as these camps were not by any means strongly guarded at first many adventurous souls made a habit of undertaking expeditions into the town under the cover of darkness returning before dawn laden with very welcome good things in the way of food and drinks.

One of the first things the Japs did was to put the clock back, literally, an hour and a half, thus affecting synchronisation with the Tokyo time.  Metaphorically, in due course they put it back 500 years.  This action caused quite a lot of confusion at first as for making appointments and so on, each of us had to find out from the other whether 'Java' time or 'Nippon' time was meant.  Many people refused to recognise Nippon time, not openly of course, but among themselves.

One of the first things I did this week was to replace the watches which the Jap shock troops had taken from us and I was fortunate in being still able to procure from a local Swiss watchmaker an even more up to date 'Mido' for myself and an 'Eterna' similar to the one Ena had lost.  We took good care not to wear them openly, however, as we went about town because it was already evident that the Jap soldiers were enthusiastic collectors of watches and cameras and we did not want to lose our watches a second time.  I myself did, not long afterwards, but more of this anon.

We did not use the Hillman as there was also great risk of losing that too, but went about on bicycles which I had bought about a month preciously when it seemed likely that in due course cars would be requisitioned by the Dutch authorities.  These bikes stood us in good stead now, and later.

**** to be continued

Is this the start of it?

Sunday, 1 March was a day of perfectly glorious weather. As was our usual custom at 'Sunny Corner', our house which was situated about 2.5 miles to the north of the town, we stayed at home enjoying the lovely view we had from the house and the restful peace of the surroundings.

This Sunday we had with us, as a guest for the day, three RAF lads with whom we had made acquaintance sometime during the previous week. I have forgotten the names of all but one, a Scot from Glasgow, Bill Wallace. We had arranged that they should spend a really lazy day with us and they had all managed to wangle 'off duty' time to this end.

Quite early in the morning I fetched them from their billet in town in the car and had them up for late breakfast. During the forenoon, we lazed about the lawn and managed to get rid of quite a surprising quantity of ice cold beer! For lunch we had an extensive 'rijstafel' (Indonesian rice dish with various side dishes literally translated 'rice table') which had the usual result of necessitating the partakers thereof to retire for 40 winks in the afternoon.

In due course, much refreshed, we re-assembled on the lawn for tea, feeling very much at peace with the whole world. It was indeed difficult to realise that anything untoward could be occurring in this fair island. Everything was so very peaceful and quiet.

About 5pm a car came up the hill towards the house and drove into the drive. To our amazement, out of the car stepped our old friend Lydia with her two children, her two sisters along with a native chauffeur and maidservant.

"The Japs are in Soebang", Lydia said simply.

We were stunned. Soebang was only a short 40 miles away on the other side of the Tangkoeban Prahoe mountain to the north.

"Where's Bill?" I asked.

"I don't know" Lydia replied wearily. "They were still fighting when we left".

Bill, Lydia's husband, who also hails from Aberdeen, was a member of the British unity on the local Home Guard in Soebang. Soebang itself a small town, the headquarters of the huge British concession in Java known as the P & T but more familiar in the UK as the Anglo Dutch Plantations of Java Ltd.

Our RAF friends immediately decided that the situation called for their presence at their HQ and while I drove them back to town Ena did all she could to make the refugees comfortable. We never saw the RAF lads again, and have often wondered since what became of them.

When I got back, Lydia and her sisters described to us how the Home Guard had been called out suddenly at 10pm the night before and how they themselves had been roused before dawn this morning, packed into cars and rushed off to a point somewhere to the south east, preparatory to necessary reconnaissance to the safety of the road to Bandoeng. They could only take with them what they could hastily pack and carry. Hand baggage was taken in the cars in which they travelled, but heavier suitcases had been put in a truck which unfortunately, as later transpired, was unable to get through.

They had been almost 12 hours on the road and were all dead tired so we got them all off to bed at an early hour. Fortunately, with, it seems, prescience of such a situation, I had some weeks previously, bought 6 camp beds so that we were able to make all reasonably comfortable.

**** to be continued