大象传媒

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My dad, David Cowie of Fife, Scotland, served with the 84th Squadron RAF during the war. On the 9th February 1942, Dad was stationed at Tengah airfield, Singapore. The island was swarming with Japanese by this point, but the RAF men were holding tight to one of the only airfields left on the island. Some Australian soldiers had told them all to get out of there as soon as possible, that the Japanese were on their way. Dad had been ordered to destroy as much of the equipment as he could so the Japanese couldn鈥檛 use it. My dad and his good friend from England, Reg Fehrn, were asked to turn the aviation fuel out into the drainage ditches that circled the airfield. Not wanting the enemy to use the drainage ditches to make their way to the airfield, the fuel in those ditches would later be set alight by an officer. Reg drove to the fuel dump and dad was on the back firing at the Japanese who were encroaching fast. Dad was firing and changing guns so fast that when one ran out, he threw it and hit Reg in the leg. They made it to the fuel dump, emptied the fuel, and drove back to camp as fast as possible being fired at again by the Japanese. Shortly after, the men were lorried to the Singapore docks, where they unloaded the ammunition and explosives from a ship called the Derrymore. The 200 men caught the ship leaving Singapore on the 11th February 1942. They only made it a short distance and the ship was torpedoed on the 13th. They were in the water for a long time, but I can鈥檛 remember how long--at least 15 hours. I remember Dad telling me about a shark and someone going bonkers on the makeshift raft they had built with ladders and oil drums. They had some Australian men with them too, and together they clung to life and were finally saved by a ship called the Ballarat in the Java Sea--a gift of God that that ship was there. They landed in Batavia and had to go through Bombay to get to Karachi.
During this time, my Gran had sent a letter to the Red Cross and they responded (I still have the telegram) saying they still had no information regarding his whereabouts or indeed if he was alive. The telegram was dated the 1st April 1942. During this time, Dad had contracted malaria while going through the jungle. He sent a telegram home from Karachi dated 30 Mar saying "all well"--he didn鈥檛 want to worry anyone back home. He survived again and sailed on more ships to get home. Strangely enough he didn鈥檛 like sailing, so he joined the RAF, and then spent most of his time on ships being torpedoed.
Reg still has lots more fascinating information regarding these experiences. It is a wonder to me that these men and many more were brave enough to give their lives and sacrifice so much so we can have what we do today. I consider my dad and those he served with heroes and will be forever grateful for their sacrifice.

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