More activity

That afternoon we were unpleasantly surprised to observe a long procession of Japanese army trucks entering Houtmanstraat from the south. We quickly closed up the front of the house and remained doggo while the trucks were parked along the open ground opposite. When night came we showed no light and although there was a lot of commotion and shouting until a late hour, we were left undisturbed. The next morning when I left for the office, I found that the row of parked trucks already extended to almost opposite the house and many Japs were in evidence. About a couple of hours later I had a guarded telephone call from Ena.

"Can you come immediately?" she said. "We have visitors".

I knew what that meant. When I arrived I found a Jap sprawling in a chair on the verandah. Elly and Ena informed me hurriedly that they had had three Nips wandering through the house until about 10 minutes before but that the other two had left, leaving the sprawler behind. I went out to the verandah and sat down opposite him. There was nothing we could say to each other so we just sat in silence, smoking. I just decided that I had to sit him out if possible, or at any rate to wait long enough to try and discover what he was after. About an hour later, he managed to convey by signs that he wanted paper and a red pencil. On the paper he scrawled some weird looking Japanese characters and leaving the verandah affixed the paper to a wooden post on the edge of the field opposite the house. He did not return.

In a short time it became evident that this sign was an indication for parking more trucks which again started to arrive in large numbers so that in due course the line had extended some hundred yards past the house to the north. We were now under Japanese surveillance with a vengeance. By lying doggo again we escaped attention that evening, but many neighbours had unpleasant experiences of Jap visitors who made themselves objectionable in ways which we ourselves knew only too well.

The next day the three of us held a council of war. Elly was all for joining her mother in Tjitaroemstraat and was kind enough to suggest that Ena and I could also be accommodated there if we wished.

So the upshot was that we decided to move the next day. Again I rang up the piano people, who must have been getting fed up with me by this time, and the piano came to rest for the second time in his warehouse. Incidentally, we never saw it again.

The following day, Saturday, found us installed in Mrs Kruseman's annex at Tjiarroemstraat 14. We had the, by this time, usual difficulties in obtaining transport but with the aid of some coolies and a hand drawn cart, and a few journeys backwards and forwards by 'sad' (dog cart) we managed to send the frigidaire back to the Dagoweg and to bring our stuff and Elly's to our new santuary.

On the Thursday of this week a notice had appeared in the newspaper ordering all British subjects to report at the Police Headquarters for registration and this Ena and I had done. On Saturday, therefore, I notified them of my change of address so that it was certainly not my fault that they had so much trouble finding me on the night of the 14th.

At the beginning of this week, too, Sparkes and his wife had both collapsed from nervous strain and had taken up their abode in a joint room at the Borromeus Hospital. I still suspect that in some way or other (perhaps from his neighbour, Mrs Graven) he had had advance information of the registration, and, suspecting (as I did) that it was the preliminary move towards internment had thought to dodge the issue by being classed as a hospital case. If that was really his idea, he miscalculated by only one day.

I recall that I visited him in Borromeus on Saturday and referring half jokingly, to the registration, said, "Thursday, we register - Friday they prepare their lists - Saturday is a half holiday and Sunday a free day, so they'll intern us on Monday".

Sparkes left hospital on Monday and was picked up the following night, the fatal 14th April.

For the past ten days or so previous to our coming to rest at Tjitaroemstraat, there had been many rumours flying around about sudden raids being held by the Japanese usually at night. Today one would hear of a complex of houses on the Dagoweg having been entered and the men taken away and tomorrow another story of the same nature would be told concerning a street in another part of the town. Already the headquarters of the Kempetai (Japanese Gestapo) in the Neetjanweg had acquired a sinister reputation and whispers were heard of the tortures which the Japanese Gestapo resorted to in order to extract confessions, real or imaginary, from their victims. Any scepticism as to the truth of such seemingly incredible tales was due, alas, to fade away in the light of subsequent events.

On the morning of the 14th, Mrs Van Ginkel rang up. She said to Ena, "Bill is probably going on a journey, but you yourself not yet." This we interpreted as a hint that she had information to the effect that my internment was imminent, but as we had by now become somewhat fatalistic in our attitude towards this possibility, I am afraid we did not react in any particular way.

And so I arrive back at the moment when the stillness of the night of 14/15 April, 1942 was shattered by the peremptory ringing of the door bell at Tjiroemstraat 14.

*********

And so, my friends, we come to the conclusion of the first chapter of my Dad's manuscript. I hope you have enjoyed and learnt from this 'taster'. In the new year I hope to be able to transcribe the rest of the manuscript into book form which will be available for purchase. This will take a little while since there will be a lot of typing! The remainder of the manuscript includes a short daily, if somewhat brief, account of life in Sukamiskin Prison whilst at the same time my father describes in detail, moments of his life. There will be a wonderful insight into life in Scotland during the early 1920s; life as a youngster at school and beyond. This proved to be a clever way for my Dad to keep his mind exercised during very long boring hours whilst cooped up in a cell. Each word was written in pencil and as time went on and paper became scarce the writing became smaller and smaller. I still have some of the writings and even the stub of the last pencil used. For me, it has been an inspiration and has allowed me to 'rediscover' my father as a very keen, sensitive person who lived through troubled times but someone who still managed to keep his sense of humour and above all, his sense of worth.

Good Friday?

For some time past no bread had been procurable and I had taken it upon myself the task of providing ourselves with this commodity, calling upon the lore of my planting days when I used to watch my cook making bread in my bungalow up on the estate.

On this Good Friday at 11 am I was busily engaged in kneading dough in the kitchen when that bird of ill omen, Mrs Graven, came for a second time, accompanied by her shadow, the traitor Niekerk.

This time the sword definitely fell.  There was no respite possible.  We had to be out of the house by 2 pm as two Japanese officers were moving in.  We could take clothes with us and other personal belonging but the house furnishing must remain as they were.

This was my first meeting with Mrs Graven.  She was rather tall and solidly built for a Japanese woman with typically Nip features and not a bit attractive.  Her age, I guessed, would have been about 40.  She stayed for some time and I must admit that she was by no means unpleasant in her manner but gave the impression that she was just carrying out an order which she found neither pleasant or unpleasant.

In the course of our conversation I asked her, on my part jokingly, if we could take our Beckman baby grand piano with us.  To my surprise she replied "Boleh" (You may), perfectly seriously.  A little later, going through the house, she passed the large GE frigidaire which stood in the lobby outside the kitchen.  "You can take this too," she said.  "Those who are coming in need not know that there was ever a frigidaire here".

This was very gratifying but we could not but wonder how we were to get it away, as we had no means of transport.

She also agreed that we could leave a couple of trunks in one of the small store rooms to be called for some days later.  When we wished to fetch them, we must call at her (Sparkes) house for the key.

On this occasion too, I had some conversation with Niekerk who acted as a sort of Dutch echo to Mrs Graven's Malay and he then volunteered the facts about himself which I have already set down.  He also told me that he had known Mrs Graven for about 30 years and according to him, had helped her in her private affairs for a long time and as now merely standing by her in her present job.  I can hazard a shrewd guess as to the nature of the link between them both before and after the Japanese invasion.

As soon as our visitors had gone, I dashed to the telephone breathing a silent prayer that it would function.  It did.  I just got on to the firm from whom we had bought our piano and asked the owner, whom I knew very well, if he could store the Beckman for us and, if so, to send coolies immediately to take it away.  He agreed and within an hour we had the satisfaction of seeing the instrument being carried down the hill, safely out of Japanese clutches, at any rate for the time being.

My second call was to our good friend, Lt Kagee of the Dutch Military Police.  As soon as  I told him about what was happening, he said "We'll be right along".  And they were - six of them within 10 minutes of bringing with them a 15 cwt truck and a passenger car.  We shall always feel a debt of gratitude to these grand chaps who just came in and said, "Now show us what you want us to do."  And the whole bunch set to work helping us pack our belongings into trunks, suitcases and baskets.  The faithful Amat took upon himself the task of packing our dinner service.  We decided that, in Mrs Graven's own words, "as those that were coming in need not know it was here", and what Mrs Graven herself did not know of, we should take with us, and thanks to our friends, the MPs, we were able to take away with us much that would otherwise had had to be left behind and irretrievably lost.  And thanks to Ena's mother to whose house the stuff was brought, we recovered practically everything after the liberation.

The frigidaire was man handled on to the truck, which was then loaded up with other things, as was also the car, and while Ena and I and two of the chaps carried on feverishly with the good work of packing, the first load was rushed down to Dagoweg 31e, quickly unloaded, and truck and car brought back to Dennenlust again for the second load.

One of the articles taken in the car on its first trip was a Firefoam extinguisher which I had presented to the MPs as they seemed keen on having it and I did not consider it worth while salvaging.  The chap who was driving had put the extinguisher on the seat beside him and coming back from Dagoweg, turning a sharp corner, the things fell of the seat on to the floor of the car.  It fell unfortunately on the knob which has to be pressed to set it working and the result can be better imagined than described.  The inside of the car was a mess of spattered soap suds.   The poor chap had had to drive most of the way back with his thumb on the valve to keep the thing from completely emptying itself.  When he drove in, he called to us in his predicament and we went to his aid, all of us doubled up with laughter.  And just to finish a fitting climax to this amusing contretemps, just as he was easing himself out of the car, his thumb slipped off the valve and all of us got a generous share of the suds.  It was just like an old fashioned slapstick comedy film and had the same salutary effort on our somewhat dampened spirits.

The truck and car were loaded up for the second time, including ourselves and all the livestock and, with our military escort, said goodbye again to 'Sunny Corner' and descended once more on poor old Ma, who in spite of all the difficulties attendant on our unexpected arrival, was delighted to have us back with her.

Wherever those good chaps may be now, Ena and I say bless them for what they did for us on Good Friday, 1942.

***** to be continued

Continuation of events

But to continue the sequence of events as from the visit of Mrs Graven to 'Sunny Corner'.  The day after she had turned up, Saturday, I felt it better to stay about the house in view of her warning as to an internment and in case other Japs should present themselves with an eviction notice.  Our telephone had become very unreliable in the past two week and I could not get contact with the office to inform them that I was not coming into town.  Not that it mattered in the slightest because there was really nothing to do.

We had,however, succeeded at an early hour in getting through to Mrs Van Ginkels, a good friend of ours, and had asked them if they could take some of our books in safe custody in anticipation of our having perhaps to leave the house at short notice.  Mrs Ginkels, accompanied by a mutual friend Bert Krevels, arrived at the house about 8 am in Krevel's car which bore a Batavia licence number.

After we had told them all about Mrs Graven and our uncertain immediate future over a cup of coffee, the books, etc were loaded into the car and our friends took their leave.

Sometime during the afternoon, the 'phone rang.  It proved to be some branch of the Dutch Military Police inquiring as to my whereabouts.  I could not understand this interest and asked what it was all about.  The MP explained that they had had a message from Sparkes to the effect that I was missing.  This puzzled me considerably.  About half an hour after the 'phone call, a motorcycle roared up the hill bringing a Police Inspector who was out in search of me, the local police also having been informed by Sparkes that something had happened to me.  This only served to intensify our mystification.

Later on, Sparkes himself turned up and the mystery was cleared up.  About 8 am he had driven up to the house intending  to offer me a lift down town.  Seeing a car with a Batavia licence plate standing outside the house, he had come to the conclusion, how, heaven only knows, that Japs were in the house and instead of ascertaining if this was actually the case, he had stepped on the gas and carried on into town.  When I did not turn up at the office in due course, his too lively imagination had suggested that I had been taken away and he had immediately started telephoning right and left setting all authorities both civil and military, by the ears.  That was the explanation of the whole business and it is a typical instance of the reactions of many people to the state of tension in which we lived during this period.

We were left in peace at 'Sunny Corner' until 3 April.  Good Friday!  As far as we were concerned this was a definite misnomer.  It was the worst Friday of our lives!

****** to be continued

New visitors!

It was, I think, on Friday, 26 March, in the second week of our return to 'Sunny Corner' that a further development occurred in our private affairs.  I had been going round to the office for a few hours each morning and it was during my absence, when Ena was alone in the house that the following happened.

Ena was washing the floor of the bedroom when she heard a car drive in.  Looking out she saw a Japanese woman and a European man coming towards the door.  A third man, also a European, remained in the car.

As they passed the bedroom window on their way to the door Ena addressed the woman, who, however, ignored her and by the time Ena got to the front room, the two visitors had already entered.

"Saya dari Generale Staf" ( I am from the Jap General Staff) announced the woman in Malay by way of introduction.  "Saya maoe pakai ini roemah". (I want to use this house)

Ena asked where we were supposed to go.  "Oh", was the reply, "You will be interned".  This unwelcome visitor then proceeded to inspect the house going through it as if it belonged to her.  While she was thus engaged the Dutchman (for such he proved to be) in a few remarks confirmed what his companion had already said and offered the information that the woman was Mrs Graven and introduced himself as Niekerk.

After her inspection, Mrs Graven returned to the front room and said to Ena, "I thought this house was bigger.   It is too small for me.  I have nine children."

She suddenly decided, apparently, to be friendly and drew Ena with her in to the rear sitting room closing the folding doors.  Niekerk returned to the car.  Mrs Graven had Ena sit down with her on the settee and started a long story as to how she and her husband and children had been interned by the Dutch.  She said that we were to be interned and advised our having suitcases packed against this, and advised Ena to conceal her rings etc in cakes of soap.  According to her, Ena and I would be interned together.  Although she herself would not now be taking our house, she warned that it would no doubt be occupied in due course by Jap officers.

She then left 'Sunny Corner' and it was not long before we learned that she went straight to the Sparkes' house and commandeered that.  The Sparkes family came to vacate almost immediately but fortunately were able to find accommodation in 'Cress Cottage' next door to their own house.  'Cress Cottage' had been occupied until recently by General Van Oyen, commander of the Air Force, but who had left for Australia shortly before the capitulation.  We did not envy the Sparkes family with the Gravens and their spawn as neighbours during the few weeks that followed.

Now, a word about this unsavoury trio who had thrust their way so unceremoniously into our lives.

Mrs Graven herself was Japanese and had lived, we learned, in Bandoeng for about 30 years.  She was the sister in law of Sakura, who had a long established and well known haberdashery on the Groote Postweg.  Her husband was a white Russian, a drunken sot, at one time reputedly an officer in the Russian Imperial Army.  The man Niekerk, who could only have been a traitor to his country, had at one time been employed in the Volkskreditbank (The People's Credit Bank) a sort of Loans Society but had retired, on money, I suspect, earned by espionage activities, and had built a complex of attractive bungalows some miles up the Lembanweg to the north of Bandoeng, occupying himself one of them with the exotic name of 'Nirvana'.  He also possessed a number of houses in the town itself.

It gave me great satisfaction to meet this individual again in Internment Camp #4, Tjimahi, early in 1944 and to find that he was mere skin and bone and hardly fit to move thanks to the starvation cure imposed on us all by his Nipponese friends.  I learned, too, that his traitorous activities were known to the Dutch authorities and I am satisfied that he will get  his due reward in due course, if he has not already got it.

These three individuals were just part of the scum which the Japanese stirring up had brought to the surface at this time.

At the first opportunity after this visit we informed our good friend, Lt Kagee, of what had transpired and he advised us if anything of the kind happened again to get on the 'phone immediately and let him know.  Before very long we were to be very grateful for this suggestion.

**** to be continued

The Dutch MPs

The Dutch MPs had been retained by the Japs in their functions for the time being and it was a clever move as it had relieved the Nips themselves of the responsibilities for keeping order in the town.  It speaks for itself that the European, and most probably also the native population appreciated the fact.  Ena and I were to become very friendly with the MP party which had been detailed to look after Dennenlust.  The NCO in charge was a certain Onder Lieutenant Kagee, a fine type of long service military man and we often wondered what became of him.  He was terribly broken up about the Dutch capitulation and told us that he simply could not take it in, that the Dutch Indian Army had ceased to exist.  It had been his whole life, poor chap.

The MPs used to patrol regularly and we never let them pass the house without calling them to come in and have a glass of beer, of which we still had a small stock.  It become the regular custom in the weeks that followed for them to drop in once or twice a day for a chat, a snack and a drink and we were only too glad to be able to do something for them as the rations they were receiving from the Japs were quite insufficient and they were always hungry.

Even in those early days the Japs gave evidence of the muddle headedness of their ways of doing things.  One day these MPs would be armed with revolvers and the next day another Jap would take way all fire arms from them, while on the third day still another Jap would insist on their being armed and issue revolvers and ammunition again.  We accepted this as being due to the general confusion to be expected at this particular time but it was proved indicative of the usual Japanese way of doing things and it will, I think, always remain a mystery to the Western mind how the Japs were able to  accomplish as much as they did.  In all our experience of them no reason or object could be traced in their methods and the proof, in my opinion, that their success was attributable to the mistakes and blunders of others and not to their own organising capabilities, it is to be found in the eventual, chaotic state of all territory which they occupied.  They showed themselves to be past masters in the art of ruining a country in an incredibly short space of time and the mess they made of Java in three and a half years baffles description.  One can only conclude that they realised from the beginning that they had no chance of achieving ultimate victory and therefore determined to do as much harm as they could in the shortest possible time.  It seems the only explanation.

***** to be continued

Return to 'Sunny Corner'

About 11 am Sunday, a Dutch MP on a motorcycle came to warn us that 'Sunny Corner' was empty and suggesting that we should return to Dennenlust immediately.  We needed no urging.  In record time, the Hillman was loaded up with the dogs, cats, birds, ourselves and sundry articles of baggage and off we set for home, the faithful Amat following on his bicycle.

Our progress up the  Dennenlust road was in the nature of a triumphal procession.  The news had spread and all the folks in the houses on each side of the road smiling and waving to us, from their verandahs, as we came up the hill.

As soon as we had unloaded the car I set out to Dagoweg 31e again to fetch some remaining items.  Coming down the Dagoweg not far from the Borromeus hospital a Dutch MP signaled to me to stop.  When I did so, he informed me that all cars had to be surrendered immediately and that I must get out and leave the Hillman standing at the roadside.

"Have a heart," I said.  "I've just got back my house after being evicted 6 days ago and am bringing my belongings back home," and suggested that he turn a blind eye to the telescope until I had made this one trip.  He was a decent and reasonable chap and agreed, but I had to promise him that I would deliver the car to the Jap authorities at the Technical High School in the Dagoweg the grounds of which were being used as a collecting centre, as soon as I had made the trip.

I got back to Dennenlust in due course with the second load but just as I was leaving again to hand in the Hillman as promised a terrific rainstorm started which continued all afternoon until after dark.  I had strapped my bicycle on to the car as I should have to cycle back, but in such a downpour with a very high wind, I would have been half drowned on the return journey.  I decide, therefore, to deliver the car to the depot early next morning, but when I arrived no Japs were to be seen, although the grounds were full of cars of all description.

The European porter who was still on duty told me that I could put the car there if I liked but I agreed with him that it would be foolish to do so with nobody there to receive it.  He informed me that he had heard that the Japs concerned were to be found in the Ursuline Convent up the road, so I decided to go there and hand over the car as arranged.  But the convent was also void of Japs, so not knowing what to do about the matter and also considering it unwise to continue using the car, I eventually ran it into a garage behind Ena's mother's house and there it remained for some months until the Japanese discovered it in one of their periodical searches and took it away.

'Sunny Corner' was in a bit of a mess after having been occupied by 40 Japanese soldiers for almost a week, but not nearly so bad as might have been expected.  Our carpets particularly had suffered as the Nips had walked over them with their muddy feet and a broad dirty track ran diagonally across the large Chinese carpets in the front room and dining room.  All the furniture had been pushed into corners to achieve sleeping accommodation on the floor and remains of meals and dirty plates were everywhere.  Our lovely little blue and white kitchen with its attractive 'Esse'-Fairy' cooker was a sorry sight.  But actually there was nothing which could not be restored to its former state with time and a lot of elbow grease.

In every room we found bottles of wine and spirits, some empty, many a quarter to half full and a few still unopened.  Outside, at the back, were cases of empty soda water bottles which appeared to have been bought from Penang.  The Japs had certainly done themselves exceedingly well in the liquid refreshment line during their stay.  In fact my first revulsion of feeling at everything Japanese I threw the whole lot out of the house and I am still glad that I did.

The verandah was littered with the remains of what I took to be Japanese emergency rations in the form of some dried and compressed cereals which, with the rain, had swelled into a porridgy unsavoury looking mess.  In our bedroom, which seemed to have been occupied by the Jap officer I found that he had experimented with a few extra safety razors I had and had opened up quite a few packets of spare blades.  We made a clean sweep of everything that had been used by the Japs.

In spite of their having been at pains to impress us that they had kept our belongings intact, it was quite evident that they had literally been through everything although no great damage had been done.  An unused Kodasope 8mm film had been unwound and re-wound and put neatly back into its box, for instance, and traces of their monkey like activities came to light repeatedly during the next few weeks.

Things turned up in the most unexpected places.  One of Ena's bras appeared from her sewing basket.  In taking down a book from one of the bookshelves I got a toothbrush on my head.  Small articles, relegated long ago to the lumber room, were found in cupboards and drawers in the bedroom.  There was strong circumstantial evidence that my kilt and at least one of Ena's evening frocks had been tried on.

All our linen was missing and also one of the heavy curtains from the window in the sitting room, but apart from these items nothing seemed to have been taken.

We had found the Dutch Military Police guarding the house for us on our return and they were most helpful in assisting us to put the house to rights as far as moving back heavy furniture to former positions, etc was concerned and we were most grateful for their help.

***** to be continued

Proper decorum

It is a regrettable fact that many girls and women seemed to regard the arrival of the Japs in Bandoeng as a signal to display more openly that they had ever seemed to do, their feminine charms, by lavish make up and by going about the streets in attire which left little or nothing to the imagination. All too brief shorts were unfortunately only too common, for instance, and it is bitter to have to record that the Japanese themselves put a stop to this immodest behaviour on the part of the European fair sex. It was made known through the medium of the press that the Japanese authorities did not favour and would not countenance any but the most proper and conventional female attire, nor would the use of lipstick or other 'come hither' cosmetics be tolerated. There are rumours of girls who had ignored this order being publicly humiliated, by punishment but I do not know if this definite occurred.

Many shopkeepers, particularly those stocking watches, cameras and spectacles had a difficult time because they were besieged by Jap soldiers who would pay, and in 'banana' money, only a fraction of the marked price of the articles. Protest in many instances was met by a slap in the face. It is true, however, that if the shopkeeper was fortunate to get hold of an officer the latter saw to it that the soldier paid in full price, but in Jap money, of course. Generally, however, barefaced robbery of this nature was the order of the day.

On Saturday afternoon, Ena, who had more nerve and initiative than I have, suggested that we should cycle up to Dennenlust and see how 'Sunny Corner' as faring under Jap occupation. We set off and as we were pushing our cycles up the steep hill to the house, a truck loaded with Japs roared past us up the road. The Nips all grinned at us and some of them waved. I swore, thinking that they were jeering at the sight of the once proud Europeans reduced to trundling push bikes up a hill.

But I was wrong. When we reached 'Sunny Corner' we found that these were the very Nips occupying the house and that, having recognised us, they were merely giving us greeting. There must have been about forty of them altogether, and there seemed to be as many outside the house as inside. Their Lieutenant was not in evidence.

We were ushered into the house in the centre of this band which immediately surrounded. They were all very friendly, and one of them who knew about three words of English, was at great pains enthusiastically assisted by half a dozen others, to explain to us through the medium of his limited vocabulary and much sign language that they would be leaving the house the following Thursday. While this was going on, one Jap, stark naked walked quite unconcernedly through the room into the bedroom.

One of the Nips took me by the arm and indicated that I was to go with in the direction of the kitchen. I said quickly to Ena "Stick close to me, I don't want to leave you alone with these guys".

He led us straight to the bathroom, threw open the door and there was disclosed to our startled gaze another Japanese in the bath arrayed in his birthday suit.

Our guide kept jabbering a long story to us but of which we naturally could not understand one word. Despairing at last of this method of conveying his meaning to us, he grasped my hand and slipped it into the water in the bath. Then he took Ena's hand and repeated the action. The Jap in the bath calmly proceeded with his ablutions during this procedure, taking not the slightest notice of us.

At length it dawned on us what it was all about. Some months previously we had installed an 'Esse' cooker (similar to an Aga) with complete hot water installation. The 'Esse' is a heat storage range which burns continuously day and night only requiring servicing twice a day, morning and evening, with a hopper full of charcoal. When we left the house I had been at pains to explain hastily as best as I could to the Lieutenant what he had to do to keep the stove going but he had quite obviously not got the idea. When the Japs arrived they had found hot water in the bathroom but they had let the fire go out and now the tap was running cold. This was what the Jap was now asking us to explain, but it just couldn't be done and eventually he and we had to give it up as a bad job.

Several Japs now took us on an inspection tour of the house and showed us how cupboards etc had been sealed by them with strips of paper and they were obviously anxious to impress the fact that, apart from shifting around the furniture to suit their convenience our belongings were intact and untouched. To this day we do not understand their solicitude in this connection as it is so at variance with all that we experience later.

When we left 'Sunny Corner' the whole crowd saw us off and, as far as we could make out, seemed to be inviting us to call again soon. Once down the hill and out of sight, Ena and I nearly fell off our bikes laughing at the memory the naked Japs in the bath!

**** to be continued

A resumption of the story!

To resume my story. At a very early hour next morning, Tuesday, we were all up and about, none of us having slept particularly well, I imagine. As soon as I was dressed I walked down to the Sparkes' house to see how they had fared the night before.

To my amazement, and theirs, they had simply not been aware of anything untoward going on, had heard nothing and had not even seen a Jap. With the effects of last night's happenings still working on me, it seemed fantastic and incredible that the whole district should not have known about our ordeal. We had found our experiences bad enough, indeed, but we learned later that that of our neighbours Van den Bos and Van Beveren had been much more trying, their visitors being the worse for drink and inclined to violence. Van Beveren had been forced out of the room at the point of a bayonet.

The Japs had come up the main road to Dennenlust, completely ignoring the houses on either side and had commenced operations at the point where the road splits, towards the left, on Buitenweg West where our house was and the right, Buitenweg Oost in which the houses of Van der Bos and Van Beveren were situated. Many of the houses up the hill had been visited in the same unpleasant fashion, but even when leaving Dennenlust the Japs had again ignored the houses further down the main road so that the people living there were blissfully unconscious of what had been going on a few hundred yards away up the hill.

Compared with a lot of many other families in other parts of the town that night, and particularly in the Dagaweg, we were fortunate. Many people were simply thrown out of their houses without ceremony to provide billeting accommodation for the Jap troops. I have heard it said that this was primarily the fault of the municipal authorities who had been warned well in advance of the arrival of the shock troops and should have seen to it that suitable buildings were placed at the disposal of the Japs for billeting purposes. And, indeed, as far as I was aware, nothing at all was done in this connection.

As I walked down the hill towards Sparkes house, I saw our car standing abandoned in the middle of the road. It was not locked but the ignition key was missing. Coming back from Sparkes, to my dismay (to my horror, I might almost say) I found Ena sitting in the car trying to get it started by means of an assortment of Yale keys, even the key of her sewing machine! She though it the most natural thing in the world, the car standing there, to steal it back from the Japs and put it in our garage.

I persuaded her that this was not a wise thing to do and we walked back to 'Sunny Corner' together. We had not yet entered the house when a bunch of Nips drove up in a truck and took the Chrysler in tow. I shudder to think what might have happened had they found her in the car, caught in 'flagrante delicto'.

We were just sitting down to breakfast when we became aware of a commotion outside. Looking out, I saw a company of Japanese soldiers come to a halt on the road before the house, and as I watched, a smart looking officer entered the garden. I went to meet him.

He saluted. "This is British house?" he asked in English.

"Yes," I replied.

"Japanese soldiers take this house, very sorry," and turning, gave apparently the order for the troops to come in and make themselves at home.

"When do we have to leave the house?" I asked.

"Oh, you go now," he said in a quite matter of fact tone. Then, as if wishing to atone for the shock his words occasioned us, he added, "I stay perhaps one month. Japanese soldiers go - you come back your house."

I asked him if we could take anything with us, food, clothing and so on.

"You take," he replied magnanimously.

While soldiers swarmed all over the house putting things to wrongs, we hastily gathered clothing and provisions together. I still had my Hillman Minx which was standing at the side of the house under a tarpaulin. I had taken over the Chrysler some weeks before from our Soekabremi office in exchange for the Hillman, the intention being to convert the latter into a small delivery wagon for the firm. But owing to the local coach builders being at the time choked up with Army orders, the plan could not be carried out and the Minx had been just set aside for the time being.

I asked the officer if I could take the car.

"You take," he said again.

He was a good looking, pleasant and polite chap and it is difficult to realise, in the light of later experience, that he was really a Jap.

**** to be continued