大象传媒

This is Michael Charnaud鈥檚 story: it has been added by Pauline Colcutt (on behalf of the Fernhurst Centre), with permission from the author who understands the terms and conditions of adding his story to the website.

An unusual and true story of a young boy who with his mother became a prisoner of both the Germans and the Japanese May 1942 - August 1945

CHAPTER 8 - END OF THE WAR AND JOURNEY TO SYDNEY (PART FOUR)

鈥淪o on this great ship hath sailed past the Indies, even unto the underside of the world, where lies a Great Land , fair and prosperous full of sheep and fair women guarded by great bearded men whose name is 鈥淒iggers鈥�. And finding the wine strong and the women weak and succumbing, we sojourned a while in these parts receiving great benefits and loving the land exceedingly. Proceeding from thence with tears and firm vows of faithfulness, we sailed Northwards towards Cathay and to that land known as Japan wherein were our enemies. We came no more to land for a space of many days, seeing naught but ships and engines of war. Our wants were filled by great vessels carrying corn and food stored in tins. These we pulled on board with stout lines from ship to ship, and fuel for our ship was poured through a pipe above the ocean. The winged chariots flew aloft each day, watchful lest the enemy come upon us with his chariots and drop down upon us fire and brimstone. But few came as our power was great. For a great fleet had gathered to do battle against the infidels and who perceiving the war was going against them sent envoys crying 鈥楶EACE! PEACE!鈥� which on their promising many things, was granted unto them. So there was great rejoicing amongst us and great Vats of strong wine were consumed with joyous shouts. Then we journeyed to the enemy鈥檚 chief city where we did cast our anchor, whilst many hundreds of our people who had been made prisoners now came aboard and were received with great joy and given a place amongst us. Now the Captain gathered all before him and cried ; 鈥淗o! Hark to these Words: We are going even unto now towards Sydney鈥�. Whereat there was a great cry of joy, for this was in the land that I had spoken that all men loved exceedingly, and wished to return.

Now this chronicle endeth, for we that were gathered together for war, will soon separate. For peace reigneth throughout the world and each man鈥檚 heart is now toward his own home.鈥�

Soon the ship was passing once again close to the beautiful south sea islands with their palm fringed beaches on the long 4,500 mile journey to Sydney epitomised later so beautifully in the musical 鈥淪outh Pacific鈥�. and eventually we arrived to refuel and collect valuable freshwater and stores in the great natural harbour of Manus in the Admiralty Isles just north of New Guinea. Here we dropped anchor in the middle of the huge natural harbour far away from shore, and at an appointed time in the afternoon had a chance to swim off the ship. A Companion ladder lead down to the sea and about 100 ft or so further down the vessel, was a yard arm hanging from which was a large net. The idea was you filed down the companion ladder jumped in the water and swam up to the net and clambered up. Whilst all this was going on a picket boat with three or four sailors carrying sten guns, cruised just a few yards off ready to shoot any sharks that might appear. Fortunately none did, as I am not quite sure who would have been hit! I jumped and swam in the warm refreshing sea, the first time that I had swam since leaving Australia. The next day we were cruising past New Guinea and New Britain into the Coral Sea past the many small palm fringed islets upon whose beaches and reefs were the rusting wrecks that had been beached during the great Naval battle three years before. One of the amazing sights in the Coral Sea was the enormous size of the flying fish. In the Indian Ocean and elsewhere they were about silvery 9 inch things. Here they were twice or three times as large with beautiful purple brown wings, and they would glide effortlessly for really long distances away from the bows of the ship. Finally on the 27th September early on a cool fresh breezy morning we passed through the Heads and entered Sydney Harbour, Royal Ensigns flying passing close by the famous Bridge through flotillas of yachts and small craft, to finally moor in the Centre of the City at Pyrmont and meet the Press and Australia and civilisation once again. We had completed the cruise of a lifetime through the Indian and Pacific Oceans that had lasted three and a half years with all the tremendous and most wonderful experiences in between.

For all of us from the 鈥淣ankin鈥� and from the camp in Fukushima it was also a time to thank the stalwart bearing of the elderly Australian Captain Stratford who throughout these three turbulent years had been our steadfast spokesman in dealing with the most awkward and difficult number of Japanese Commandants and other enemy officials in authority. Mother and I especially were grateful for the firm line that he had taken with the Japanese when us three children were due to be branded with a red hot poker on our bellies. His sombre and determined threat of Allied post war retaliation and severe punishment undoubtedly saved the day. He was exactly the right man with that true Australian grit to be speaking up for us, when he so easily could have been an appeaser. We thank God for the grit of tough men like him to have by ones side when the going is rough, and feel secure in the knowledge that they stick to their principles and act like true leaders under the greatest adversity to cope with bullies of whatever persuasion.

CHAPTER 9 - SYDNEY - CEYLON 1945 AND FLIGHT TO ENGLAND (PART ONE)

We had a tremendous and ecstatic reception from the press and other dignitaries. Everywhere there were flashlights and photographers as we were the first POW vessel to return from Japan. The carrier seethed with friends and relatives who had come aboard to be re-united with their long lost loved ones back from Japan, and the flight deck was overflowing with happy couples and parties celebrating. Of course the Australian personnel got the biggest welcome with Champagne and drinks flowing freely with all the kisses, hugs, and back slapping. Mother and I were given a big write up with our photos in the papers, as was also the case of Gabby Lyons, on account of her coming back as the widow of a War Hero. The rest of the passengers who like us had no one to meet them, or anywhere to go, were transferred to various transit hostelries spread across that huge sprawling city. We said our goodbyes and I thanked all those Geordies, Carl Drennan, Stewart for his lessons, and others who had been so good in looking after me on the men鈥檚 side. Also I said goodbye to my young room-mate Graham Sparke who had been such a close buddy and we had done so much together. Soon we found ourselves late that afternoon in a small boarding house not far from the Randwyck racecourse. It was a typical Australian clap-boarded wooden building painted a dirty ochre colour with a corrugated iron roof, wide verandahs and surrounded by heavily scented lemon eucalyptus gums. The place was adequate and comfortable, but the very next morning we travelled into town to the Bank of New South Wales to collect some money that Father had sent, and then went to see about getting a passage back to Ceylon. We made straight for the P.O.W. reception offices, arriving early in the morning, with Mother in an absolute determined frenzy to get moving as soon as possible on a passage to Colombo. But the news was bad and we were firmly told that it was quite impossible, to expect to get any passage for at least six months. The first priority for all passenger liners was to get Australian servicemen home from all the far flung theatres of war. It was then that I was able to witness Mother鈥檚 determination come into full force. Whilst in the office being given the bad news she demanded a telephone to ask to speak to her friend Commander Crane who was involved with Naval transport and shipping in Melbourne when we were there three years before in 1942. Back came the reply from his office however that he was no longer there, but even luckier he was now based in Sydney and his rank had been raised to that of Commodore.and he was now fortuitously in charge of all transport movements We discovered his new number and made contact, and joined him for lunch that day at his office. He was as usual most charming and most considerate wanting to hear all about our experiences, and said that he would look into what could be done, and assured us that he would try to do his very best by the time we came to see him the following day. We then busied ourselves that afternoon in, shopping for clothes in Myers and Coles to once again make ourselves well dressed and respectable, a pleasant change from our GI Kit and ex-prison garb. The following morning we went to see Commodore Crane once again, who told us of all the difficulties that he had trying to get us a passage. It was quite impossible to get anything to Colombo, but there was a ship the 鈥淥tranto鈥� 17,000 tons with plenty of spare capacity sailing in 12 days time for Bombay. It was just returning from the Middle East with 1,000 Australian servicemen and women and he had booked us on it, and advised us to take it , and make our own way from Bombay back to Ceylon. We gratefully accepted his kind advice, and thanked him for all his trouble from the depth of our hearts, secure in the knowledge that soon we would once again be on our way. This little episode was so very typical of Mother who would never ever take 鈥渘o鈥� for an answer, and who through sheer will power and determination eventually always managed to wangle her own way in the end when she could see a distant goal. She was completely single minded in using friends, contacts, and her sheer charm to achieve her aims. It was a lesson that I never forgot for the rest of my life that by focussing on ones goals and having sheer determination coupled with a ruthless will power always enables one to win through. So we lingered on in Sydney for the few days remaining.. We visited cinemas, restaurants and did all the normal things one does in a large city savouring every precious moment and constantly compared our luxury and freedom now, which was still such a novelty, with the harsh years in the camp. The contrast was so truly wonderful that we still could not believe our eyes, and we still thought how a couple of months previously we were powerless, incarcerated with every chance of being killed before the war ended. About half way through our stay though there was a big race meeting at the Randwyck Racecourse. The Australians are quite mad and totally crazy when it comes to horse racing which is a national obsession. I was amazed to see not only the crowded course, which one expected, but above all the numbers of men who had climbed up ladders onto the sloping corrugated iron roof of the grandstand, well oiled with copious beer bottles in hand, to have a free view of the action! They were all accepted as part of the scene and no attempt was made to turn them away by anyone! Nowhere else during the course of my life have I ever seen a sight quite like that race again! Soon we were ready to depart on the 11th October barely two weeks after our arrival. Once more I was glad to be on board yet another ship, with the comforting feel of the throb of her engines as we pulled out of the grand setting of Sydney Harbour through the Heads and leave its clothes hanger bridge far behind. As we hit the heavy swell of the Pacific Ocean and I walked around the deck getting my balance and sea legs again, I felt secure that at least on this liner there was no more fear of torpedoes, shell fire, or any enemy raiders. The war was over and a new and exciting life beckoned ahead. The 鈥淥tranto鈥� was still in the usual battleship grey war colours, and we had a rather non- descript but comfortable cabin. The total number of passengers aboard was just under 200 almost all of whom were diggers getting a lift from Sydney to Perth. From Perth to Bombay there were to be only about 50 of us, when 3,500 servicemen from the Indian Armies were due to join her to be squashed into every nook, to be transported and 鈥渄emobbed鈥� in England. The trip was uneventful with the usual rough sea in the Australian Bight, but nothing like as severe as the terrible storm that we had undergone in 1942. The Australian diggers in their heavy army overcoats to keep out the cold wind, spent most of their time drinking endless beers and playing 鈥渢wo up鈥� on the decks with constant betting on 鈥渃hasing the lady鈥� i.e the queen. Eventually after a fairly dull trip across the Indian Ocean mostly under grey skies we finally arrived in Bombay expecting to meet Father. We were terribly disappointed to only receive a telegram to say that the Dakota plane that he had been due to fly on, had crashed killing all on board and that instead he was coming by train, and would arrive two days later. In the meantime we were installed in a transit camp in the senior officers mess on Malabar Hill in the most exclusive part of Bombay. The building had belonged to a wealthy Parsee Industrialist who had in his generosity lent it of his own free will for the duration of the War for the use of Senior officers. The building was truly palatial and fantastic with colonnades and arches, beautiful ornamental pools as well as a lovely swimming pool. It commanded a spectacular view from its height over the other buildings, to the rocky palm fringed coast of the Indian Ocean with the surf and waves breaking along on the distant rocks. After the tediously long journey through the typical damp squalor of the rest of the city, the contrast could not have been more acute. Two days later at midday Father at last arrived to hug, greet and kiss us, full of apologies for his delay. He was still very shaken at seeing the fatal crash of the Dakota with no survivors explode in flames before his very eyes. But now it was all emotion at seeing us again both at last back safe and well after our long ordeal, dying to hear at first hand all the details of what we had undergone and the experiences that we had endured. It was impossible to recount it all quickly apart from the vaguest outlines, there was so much to tell that we could have talked volumes. He asked after my health because originally I had gone to Australia with Mother after being bedridden for a year all during 1940 with T.B. I told him that I was well and that in spite of all the harsh conditions I had never had a relapse. We learnt that Hugh had just been de-mobilised out of the Indian Army, Probyn鈥檚 Horse, an armoured regiment, and the good news was that Helen had joined the WRNS two years before and was now serving in Signals as teleprinter operator at the great Naval Base at Trincomalee and so we would see her when we reached Colombo. But he also had some very bad news to convey. Sadly my Aunt Helen, Mother鈥檚 sister had died aged only 43 after a minor operation, from septicaemia. Mother was devastated and wept and wept as the two sisters were very close. We all adored Helen, she was such a live wire with a great wit and a deep fountain of common sense. I still remember vividly saying to me aged eight whilst mixing a cake with a cigarette as usual hanging from her lips:

鈥淎lways remember one thing Mike, that there are two sorts of people in this world, the damn fools who will never listen to an older persons advice and experience, and the others who do listen. It stands to reason that if a person has walked along a certain path and has seen or endured the snags, it is a good thing and wise to take their advice and avoid the same pitfalls鈥�

Poor Aunt Helen how much we would all miss her warmth and kindness!

Cont/鈥︹�ee A Child鈥檚 War Part Nineteen

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