大象传媒

Maurice Rooney first met me, Jack Victor Fowler, when we were both innocent young men, giving up our lives to defend those of our loved ones back at home during the second world war. Although from different battallions, we had both been captured and imprisoned in the Japanese prisoner of war camp in Kinkaseki.

I would like to dedicate the following poems and songs to the memory of those who lost their lives in Kinkaseki.

Below is a transcript of an audio recording of Maurice remembering our tortuous time there.

I became part of a large contingent of troops sent back to Singapore city to help restore services and generally clear up the extensive damage of the hostilities. A prisoner of war camp had been hastily constructed at River Valley Road and it must be said by later standards it was not too bad. The food situation of course was grim and we often fell foul of the brutal Japanese guards but it was getting used to the basic loss of freedom that was the hardest to bear. However, with a combination of initiative, cunning and daring, we survived the following months fairly well. Finally at the end of October 1942 after several days of rumour about moving, it became a reality and we were herded onto a Japanese ship, the Dianichi Maru which ironically carried a plate stating it was built in Liverpool in 1900. Then after a 14 day journey of sheer hell, and personally 19lbs lighter because of dysentery, we arrived at Formosa, more commonly known today as Taiwan. The journey finally ended in the now notorious copper mine camp at Kinkaseki on the north east coat and it is a little of what happened during the following years that this narrative is about.

What really prompted me in the first place to make this recording was an article I鈥檇 read in the December 1983 edition of the Readers Digest, titled 鈥淭he man sent from God鈥�. It was in fact a follow up story of a Canadian documentary film entitled a 鈥淲ar Story鈥� and as a matter of interest it was screened on Channel 4 in February 1987. This film was produced by Anne Wheeler, the daughter of the late Major Ben Wheeler a former medical officer of the Canadian army, and of whom the story in the Readers Digest and the film was about. What inspired her to make this film were her father鈥檚 war diaries which came to light many years after his death in the mid 1960鈥檚. These diaries related to the period of his life when he was in captivity as a prisoner of war for the Japanese between February 1942 to August 1945. He spent much of his prisoner of war life as the chief surgeon and medical officer at the copper mine camp at Kinkaseki, Taiwan and as I was there for over 2 陆 years, I knew him very well. As a survivor of that camp, when I first saw the film which you must remember were of events over 40 years ago, it seemed that time had just stood still. It certainly stirred and brought the memories flooding back and I find it difficult to express how I felt. However, what I am sure of was that it was a fitting and tremendous tribute to a wonderful, courageous and great man. He too I know, would have paid his own tribute to the very caring and helpful medical team he had to support him. None more so than Captain Seed who worked unselfishly and with extreme dedication. We survivors I feel owe all of them a great debt of gratitude.

Now a little about the camp and mine itself. Kinkaseki mining camp lay in-between a huge range of mountains and it was on the other side of the mountain nearest to us where the mine entrance was. This meant to get there we had to climb and descend hundreds of irregular steps twice a day and this I can assure you was extremely tiring, particularly the return journey after a day's work. Only a small percentage of the very sick were excused work so many, at times had to be assisted. I recall that if you worked 50 consecutive days you were rewarded with a day off but very few qualified for that and personally I can only remember it happening to me just the once. Anyway having got to the mine entrance, we then had to walk a good mile to the main tunnel till we came to the part where there were further steps to descend to get to our place of work. There were several levels to the mine with about 300 steps in-between levels so the further you were sent down, the more steps there were to climb after the day's work. We were worked and treated virtually as slaves and even today it is hard to believe how we survived. We suffered most of the time from exhaustion, being allowed only one rest at midday for a half an hour to eat what little food we had. At breakfast we were given four rice balls, two of which had to be put in a box and taken to work and the Japanese took stringent steps to see that this was done. If they hadn鈥檛, many would have eaten the four at breakfast just in case we didn鈥檛 survive until midday. The conditions were a continuous nightmare with the constant fear of collapsing rock to maim, bury or even kill as some were because, throughout the whole of the mine it was only the main tunnel that had any supporting timbers. We worked naked apart from a loincloth in temperatures of up to 130 degrees and in some places were drenched by dripping acid water. For most of my time down the mine I worked as a driller and the equipment provided was absolutely useless but that counted for nothing when the work quotas were given out. A little ditty was made up at one time, a sort of drillers lament and it went something like this.

Come with me to Taiwan
Down the mine beneath the skies
Where the acid water trickles in your eyes
I call my mate whose with me, bring that oil can here
To oil this b hammer, the b* makes me swear
The jap guard keeps a screaming, he wants 12 holes a day
But he鈥檒l be b** unlucky,鈥� cos the yanks are on their way

The only means of lighting down the mine were carbine lamps and as an indication of how bad the atmosphere was the naked flame often went out due to the lack of oxygen. At the end of each day鈥檚 work for not reaching the targets they gave, the guards set about us, beating our naked bodies with a two foot shaft of the miner鈥檚 hammer they carried. I remember we christened this work the hammer and the hotspots. I could go on but enough of this for what I really want to lead in to is to tell you that very often, to overcome the boredom and treachery of the journey to and from the mine we used to sing, much to the annoyance of the guards. No song upset them more than the one written by a prisoner named Arthur Smith who became known as the Robbie Burns of Kinkaseki. It had the appropriate title of 鈥淒own the Mine鈥�, and became the signature tune of the camp. I remember the tune and words very well:

There鈥檚 a song in old Formosa, that the nips they loudly sing, in the billets every evening, you should hear the music ring. Now they sing to British soldiers, who鈥檝e travelled from afar, to fight for King and country, now they鈥檙e prisoners of war. But they know they鈥檒l see their homeland in the future once again, listen while I sing to you, the Nipponese refrain. Down the mine bonny laddies, down the mine you go, though your feet are lacerated, you dare not answer no, though the rice is insufficient and we treat you all like swines, down the mine bonny laddies, down the mine.

Now the boys were fairly happy, till one cold and cloudy day, when the buggers said oh no, he came out and he to them did say, Now I expect you all are wondering, why you鈥檙e out on this parade, the reason is you must be taught, the Taiwan serenade. Down the mine bonny laddies, down the mine you go, though your feet are lacerated, you dare not answer no, though the rice is insufficient and we treat you all like swines, down the mine bonny laddies, down the mine.

You should see us work with chunkels, and we work with baskets too, though the method is old fashioned, to the boys it鈥檚 something new, and we鈥檒l work away with patience till the dawn of freedom's day but until then the Nippon men will all be heard to say, down the mine bonny laddies, down the mine you go, though your feet are lacerated, you dare not answer no, though the rice is insufficient and we treat you all like swines, down the mine bonny laddies, down the mine.

Now the camp accommodated about 500 men and the severe conditions of both camp and mine meant that the health of prisoners rapidly deteriorated. We found it strange that instead of looking after us reasonably well to keep us fit to do their work they chose to neglect, starve and ill treat us. As a means of trying to maintain the fittest work force possible, the Japanese arranged periodically what we called 'sick and thin men parades' and at them they would select a number who they considered to be the worst cases and sent them to other camps. After this exercise new arrivals would come from other camps as replacements and though they looked and appeared fitter, they very often weren鈥檛. There were six camps on Taiwan so there was a fair amount of movement of prisoners from one camp to another. It was always a boost for moral to see new faces and in many cases meet again former comrades. It was interesting to hear what was happening at other camps and if there was any news on how the war was progressing. What did get established however, was Kinkaseki became the most notorious of all the camps and the one most feared to be sent to. In all, during the 2 陆 years existence of Kinkaseki over 1,100 men came, stayed, left or as was the fate of over 100, died or were killed. These of course had to be buried and it was on the hillside of one of the mountains that overlooked the camp that the cemetery was made. I can remember very often standing in the camp looking up to the cemetery and wondering even as young as I was, whether it was to be my own final resting place. I will digress a little here to tell you that as the camp was at high altitude the rainfall was heavy and continuous during the wet season. Though this added much to our discomfort, a certain amount of interest was created particularly at the 1944-45 wet season because we were able to gauge and record it. In November and December 1944, the rainfall was almost 90 inches for each month. In January 1945 over 90 inches was recorded and in the 28 days of February 1945, it just fell short of the 100 inches and actually there was great disappointment in the camp that it had failed the 100 inch mark. It is hard to believe that in 4 consecutive months, there was over 30 feet of rain. Eyebrows may be raised but I can assure you that these figures are accurate and the official ones recorded and lodged with the war office after the war, as were many other records of the camp. This exceptional rainfall had it鈥檚 affect on the cemetery for due to the ground being very hard, we could only bury our comrades at a shallow depth and any grave that hadn鈥檛 had time to consolidate before the rains came had their covering washed away and at each subsequent burial, time was spent trying to cover the exposed remains. However, after the war, all the graves were removed to the war cemetery in Hong Kong. I can not add much more to this except to say that Robbie Burns once again put pen to paper and this time wrote a poem. I cannot recall it having a title but I call it 鈥淭he Hill on Taiwan.鈥�

There鈥檚 a hill on Taiwan that looks out across the sea, where hero鈥檚 graves with names therein forever frown on me
Our comrades lie within thy breast on yonder mountain steep, unafflicted, unoppressed, they sleep the blessed sleep
Blow gentle winds I ask of thee upon their simple graves, be quiet though angry sea disurb not Britain鈥檚 brave
Oh willows droop thy heads and weep, oh vagrants softly tread
Disturb thou not the blessed sleep of Britain鈥檚 glorious dead
Oh frowning hill out in the east, the story shall be told of those who lie in stately rest within thy bosom cold
Has not thy hunger been appeased with a hundred souls or more
Upon them though has quickly seized why hunger thou for more
Oh frowning hill I鈥檒l see you still when I am far away
When shadows fall I鈥檒l oft recall these dark and gloomy days
When we began thy ascent steep bereaved and sore distressed
To lay our comrades down to sleep within thy rugged breast

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