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We were a day out of Malaya when the news came that atomic bombs had been dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, and the Japanese had surrendered. Everywhere a cheer went up. We arrived at Port Dickson and the battalion landed first to meet any resistance, but there was none, so the brigadier and I then went ashore. We proceeded up a road as the brigadier had to make contact with a group of Chinese guerillas. We had only gone a few hundred yards when out of the jungle they stepped.The brigadier and I exchanged looks as they were all dressd in bright red and gold uniforms - they must have put them on especially for the occasion. The brigadier spoke to their leader and then, as silently as they had appeared, so they vanished. I do not know what they spoke of but I think most likely the Japanese surrender. We did not stay at Port Dickson for long as we moved on to Seremban. The brigadier went to meetings every day with the generals and I went about Seremban but there was nothing much to see. We left there for Malacca but I did not see much of the place because we moved on again. In September 1945, the brigadier informed me we would be on the move again, this time going to Java for the surrender of the Japanese there - so I would actualy be taking part in it.

Next day, another surprise for me when the brigadier said, ‘Lewis, Captain Jones has asked you and me to travel on his ship to Java. A frigate called the Loch Katrine. How would you like that?’ I was speechless! The next day we arrived at the harbour where the frigate was anchored a good distance from the jetty. Awaiting our arrival was a launch with a sailor, holding what looked like a long pole, standing at each end. We were helped aboard and then we were off. As we neared the frigate, I could see that the front of the ship was painted like a shark’s head and painted in very bright colours. When we were alongside, a rope-ladder was waiting and we climbed it with help. To my surprise the crew were on deck, standing to attention, and we were piped aboard, just as one sees in films now. Of course, this was all in honour of the brigadier as he was the higher rank. This was something that would never happen to me again in my lifetime. What an experience!

When the brigadier was taken to his quarters, I was taken below deck where the sailors lived and then shown round the frigate, including the guns and all the other interesting aspects. I had my first meal aboard which was excellent, and then I was shown how to use the hammock. It took me three tries before I eventually had to be helped into it, and my face was red with embarrassment! But, to my amazement, I had a wonderful night’s sleep and did not fall out even once. Life on board the frigate was exciting. During the day I would follow the sailors as they did their duties, and wonder at the flying fish jumping out of the water and keeping up with the frigate. I saw the brigadier for only short periods each day as he was busy with Captain Jones. On the second day at sea I was told that we would shortly be crossing the equator and that, on account of the brigadier, the ceremony of Crossing the Line would take place on board. The sailors had rigged up a large canvas pool which was quite deep. We changed into shorts and the brigadier was first into the water. One of the sailors, who was dressed as King Neptune, did the honours. They ducked the brigadier and a piece of soap was put into his mouth while King Neptune recited all about the deep sea. The brigadier took all this as good fun. I was next and went through the same ceremony. We each received a certificate to say that we had crossed the equator. It was an interesting naval custom and something else to always remember.

We arrived in Batavia two days later, early in the morning. I was surprised to see there were Japanese submarines, gunboats and other vessels in the harbour. As we moved in to dock, I noticed two big cars waiting at the quayside. One was for the brigadier and the other for me, and they both had Japanese drivers. As I was stepping ashore, the sailors shouted to me to wait, and ,to my surprise, a crate came over the side of the ship by crane. When I lifted the lid, I saw the crate was full of food tins, everything you could think of. It was placed in the boot of my car and, after thanking the sailors for everything they had done, we left.

It was quite a drive from the port but we eventually arrived at what I can only describe as a mansion. There were large concrete pillars by the steps leading up to the front door, and inside was a vast hall with rooms leading off it. The brigadier was shown to his room by a Japanese captain who asked me in perfect English if I would be dining with the brigadier. I explained that I would be eating with some of the brigade HQ chaps who had arrived before us to prepare things for our arrival. There was another Japanese soldier whom I was told was an interpreter and whose name I remember was Myjamoto. I told him that I required an alarm clock and some blankets for both the brigadier and myself, and they arrived within the hour. We did not stay long at this mansion as it was being taken over by a Dutch general (at this time I did not know that Java was a Dutch colony), but we moved to an even larger mansion with massive halls and rooms. The brigadier had a room a short distance from mine and each room had its own shower which was used a lot because the weather was so hot and humid. It was certainly different from living in the jungle. I was issued with beer, spirits and cigarettes each week. It was September 1945 and Java had been a Dutch colony for many years although the Javanese, or Indonesians as they preferred to be known as, wanted home rule and the Dutch to be thrown out.

The brigadier was out most days going to different places. One day he told me that Brigadier Malaby, of whom he had spoken to me, had been murdered by the Indonesians when he and his brigade major went to talk to them. The latter managed to escape and brought back the terrible news. The murdered brigadier left behind a wife and two children. Most people do not know about the awful things that happened abroad during that time and this was only one of the terrible things that were to happen while I was in Batavia. While the brigadier was out, I stayed befing doing general tidying up and other things, including looking after our dog, Jock.

For a while I was billeted at a house opposite the previous one which the Dutch had taken over and which one day had a Moroccan soldier on guard duty, armed with three or four grenades hanging from his belt and a machine-gun. One day a friend and I were standing at the door of our house when along came a car with three Indonesians in it. I do not know whether they did not hear or did not understand, but when the Moroccan soldier shouted to them to stop, the car continued to move very slowly. In an instant the guard opened fire with his machine-gun. The three in the car did not stand a chance and one was killed instantly, one had his hands severed off, and the other was dying. The two left alive begged me to get them to hospital and I managed to get a nearby truck to do so, but I don’t know if they lived or not. While we were trying to calm the two who had been wounded, the sergeant in charge of the brigadier’s defence platoon came running up to me and said, ‘Shall we attack, Alec?’ I told him not to as I did not want to start another war but from then on one had to be very careful as the Indonesians would shoot anyone they saw. I was shocked when a Dutch major came out, went up to the guard, patted him on the back and told him he had done very well. The defence platoon sergeant went to the major and told him he should be ashamed of himself as the men in the car had been unarmed, and that a report would be made to the brigadier on his return. I told the brigadier about the incident and he too was very shocked. I do not know what was done about it but it was after that incident that I was moved back into the mansion where the brigadier was residing.

For part 17 go to:

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