大象传媒

A BRIEF ACCOUNT OF THE EXPERIENCES OF A BRITISH MERCHANT SEAMAN DURING HIS INTERNMENT IN FRENCH (VICHY) WEST AFRICA

written by George Whalley, Radio Officer aboard CRITON

On March 11th 1941 my ship, MEMNON was torpedoed some 500 to 600 miles northwest of Dakar and the crew took to the lifeboats, all except one sailor who returned to his room to get some cherished belonging and was trapped by the inrush of water. The ship sank fairly quickly and some of the lifeboats were damaged, but it was later found possible to salvage some of the food from these damaged boats and the officers and men were gathered into the two most seaworthy craft. After some delay sails were set and the two lifeboats sailed independently for Cape Verde (Dakar), and were then to follow the coastline south to Bathurst, British Gambia. I was in the smaller of the two lifeboats which contained three Australian Air Force personnel, 13 Officers and British Crew and 7 Chinese Crew.

Many harrowing stories have been told of the hardships of shipwrecked seafarers in lifeboats and our experience was no exception.

On the tenth day, the 21st March 1941, we were off the coast close to Dakar and decided to land there owing to the extreme weakness of one or two men, together with the great hunger, thirst and fatigue of the whole of the boat's complement. We were not aware what our position would be if we landed on French soil, but considered the possibility of internment preferable to the continuation of our voyage under such arduous conditions, and in addition we were very concerned as to the state of the weak men. The surf at this point was very high and we prevailed upon a fisherman to pilot us into the calm waters of Yof Bay so that we might land with the minimum of difficulty. Another officer and myself were sent ashore in a fishing canoe ahead of the lifeboat in order to warn the authorities that a number of men were about to land upon a defended beach. On arrival ashore we were escorted to an army hut which was the headquarters of the beach defence in that area, and from there news of our arrival was telephoned to the various authorities at Dakar.

Some half an hour later several officials arrived from Dakar and the Medecin-chef of the Principal Hospital took charge of us, as in his estimation we required hospitalisation. The weaker men were given injections on the beach and we were then led to a lorry which carried us to the hospital at Dakar, a distance of some 7 or 8 miles. The next day we were visited by the United States Consul, who was in charge of British interests in French West Africa, and we were informed that our position was somewhat obscure but that Governor Boisson had telegraphed Vichy for instructions. We had been in the hospital over two weeks before the reply came from Vichy that all British subjects of military age were to be interned in accordance with the terms of the Germano-Franco Armistice. About the middle of April our Captain, the Chief Engineer, the Boatswain, and the Chinese Crew, were escorted to the Gambia border and released because they were either over military age or were neutrals. During the month of April 1941 we were joined by men who had arrived on the coast in lifeboats from other vessels, and towards the end of the month we were moved to an internment camp at Koulikoro, near Bamako, in the French Sudan. During the whole of our time in the hospital at Dakar we were very well treated and received every consideration, with the single exception that our exercising space was somewhat limited, as we were not allowed to come into contact with the civilian population. There were native guards on our ward to stop civilians entering. We were, however, visited almost daily by either the American Consul or the Vice-Consul and we received a visit about once per week from the French Red Cross, who did all in their power to obtain comforts for us. It was extremely difficult to obtain clothing in Dakar, but the Consulate and the French Red Cross managed to procure gifts of used clothing for us. Many gifts were sent to the Consulate by sympathisers who dared not show their sympathy openly, and some of these donors were the wives of officials, etc. Madame Reyss of the Red Cross gave us packets of cigarettes and tins of jam, etc., as well as a number of thriller novels from her husband's library. Up to this time we had no money except for a few pounds in sterling amongst the whole crew. The American Consul obtained special permission from the Governor for this money to be exchanged into francs, and at the end of April we received a cash advance from the Consul which amounted to 350 francs for the Officers, 175 francs for the men, and 85 francs for the natives (Lascars). This was the first payment of what was intended to be a monthly allowance. By the end of April our number had risen to about sixty men and we were transferred to Koulikoro, French Sudan.

On leaving the hospital all the internees were lined up outside the ward and their baggage and persons were searched for arms, knives, etc. The names were then called out and as each man answered he had to step up to a gaol-van which was waiting nearby. Here the internees were chained and padlocked two by two and each pair of men had a black guard who held the key of the shackles. Thus we were transported to the railway station and placed in the train for our 36 hours journey. Naturally all the men were very upset at this humiliation and representations were made to the two Europeans in charge of our escort. Eventually the senior of these Frenchmen was prevailed upon to take off the chains but he would only do so if we gave him a solemn "parole" that we would not attempt to escape. This parole was given and the chains were removed from the British subjects but were left on the Indian natives until the next day, when it was considered that we were sufficiently far from any border to make any attempted escape futile.

Two men had been left behind in Dakar hospital suffering from broken legs, one British and one Indian. The food for the 36 hours train journey had been supplied by the hospital, but we were able to prevail upon the officer in charge of the guard to let us visit the dining car on the train in order to get a decent lunch. This we had to pay for ourselves, of course. We arrived at Koulikoro at noon on the second day and walked the 3 miles to the camp, where we were received by about a dozen Naval and Fleet Air Arm personnel, who had been interned there some months.

The authorities at Koulikoro had had only a few hours notice of our coming and had been able to make very little preparation for us. We were housed in newly constructed mud brick buildings with thatched roofs, and were supplied with new beds which were quite comfortable. Water for all purposes had to be carried up from the River Niger, which at this time of the year was very low, and this meant a walk of 20/30 minutes with old four gallon petrol tins full of water. As the heat in the Sudan during the daytime is terrific we informed the authorities that we could not carry this water and were granted a party of tirailleurs, native troops, to fill up the water drums each morning and afternoon. The Niger water was quite unfit for drinking without being filtered, and as only a few filters were available which supplied at the most 2 to 3 quarts of water per hour it was necessary to drink unfiltered water to which permanganate of potash had been added. This "doctored" water was by no means palatable and many of the men were tempted to drink the river water in its natural state. This led to many cases of diarrhoea and other stomach troubles. The camp doctor used to visit each morning and supplied quinine etc. As, however, this doctor's examinations were very superficial in nature, and as he was never known to use even a thermometer when persons had a high fever, he was looked upon as useless by the internees and did not command much respect from our own ship's doctor. Arrangements had been made for the internees to bathe in the river and half the camp went each day about 4.30 p.m. The bathing party was strongly escorted and supervised and it was a condition that none of the bathers should take a topee or hat. The reason for this was that, if anyone should evade the party, escape would be impossible in that country without any topee. From Koulikoro we were allowed to write weekly letters home and these were handed in each Monday for censorship. Cooking was done by the internees on the premises and the food was very small in quantity. Bread was supplied daily and the other food consisted of macaroni, vegetables, rice and meat. Half a bottle of wine was also given daily for each man. We were given to understand that the cost of food was not to exceed 14.25 francs per day. A sergeant was placed in charge of the camp and acted as liaison officer between the internees and the authorities. This sergeant was very helpful but his capabilities were limited by the lack of materials. Cooking utensils were insufficient and although we were issued with spoons and forks no knives could be obtained. No forms of seats were available and it was necessary to eat one's meals seated upon one's bed or on the ground. Several deadly snakes were found and killed in the camp during our stay, and if one should have been bitten no anti-snake serum was available nearer than Bamako, 60 miles or more away. Sanitary arrangements were rather inadequate at first but this was later improved. Flies, insects and mosquitoes abounded, but we had good mosquito nets over our beds. Termite ants were a source of trouble, and I have seen the leg of a pair of trousers eaten off in one night by these insects. As there were no cupboards, shelves, etc., upon which to put one's possessions it was necessary to place everything upon the mud floor.

Before we left Koulikoro at the end of May the rainy season had set in, and the compound, which had been of hard clay when we arrived, became a veritable quagmire at times.

When we left Dakar the American Consul had told us that he hoped that an exchange of internees might be effected, and that he considered a month would be necessary to complete the arrangements. Within this time we were taken from the camp at Koulikoro and put on the train for an unknown destination. Great secrecy was to be maintained and there were only two Frenchmen in charge of a party of fifty-nine of us. We were asked to co-operate with these two men and not to get out of the train at any of the stations unless told to do so, and not to draw any attention to ourselves by singing, etc. Whilst we knew of the possibility of an exchange from the American Consul, we were kept completely in the dark as to our destination. Actually our railway voucher was booked to St. Louis, some sixty miles north of Dakar, but our escort told us that he did not think that we would go that far, but would be taken off the train at an earlier station. At each main station this officer visited the telegraph office to enquire as to our destination, and it was not until ten o'clock at night that he told us that we were to leave the train soon after midnight and take to lorries. During this train journey everything was done to make us comfortable and keep us cheerful, and this was a great contrast to the treatment meted out to us when we were taken up to Koulikoro. The great secrecy which was maintained regarding our destination is a matter which must be borne in mind because it had repercussions at a later date, during my second internment. On leaving the train we were put into lorries which were waiting and there joined a very large party of other seamen, who had come down from the Dakar region after landing on the Senegal coast. After about six hours in the lorries we arrived at the Gambia border and walked the half mile or so of jungle path which separated us from British territory.

On the British side of the Border we were met by Army Officers who put us into lorries and took us to Bathurst. We spent the night at Bathurst and were billeted in the houses of the residents who did all in their power to make us welcome. A ladies' organisation gave out clothing and cigarettes, and the next morning we boarded ship for Freetown, where we arrived on the evening of May 30th 1941.

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