Life of Riley

Our first meeting

was privileged to meet Dennis Riley after reading an article about him in the Nottingham Evening Post sometime in 1999. The article gave details of him being a prisoner of war of

the Japanese in Borneo, and as my dad had died as a prisoner in Borneo, I rang him and hopefully asked if he had known him. To my surprise, he said he had and had even made the cross for his grave when he died. As you can imagine, I was excited and immediately made arrangements to see Dennis that evening.

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I arrived at his home in record time and spent a few hours with him and his wife, Edna, listening to the experiences he suffered. At last I had some information about my dad. I now knew what camp he was incarcerated in, what ship he had sailed to Singapore on, and between Dennis and another ex p.o.w. I met, named Sam Barker, dates and places he journeyed to when trying to escape from the fallen Singapore. Unfortunately, both Dennis and Sam did not know my dad personally, but they did know who he was as they were all in the same regiment, the 78/35th LAA. Royal Artillery. Sam and Dennis had been in the same hut (No.10) but my dad was in the hut opposite (no.11). I visited Dennis again the following week to return photographs I had copied and sadly, I didn’t see him again. It was the same with Sam Barker. Five years later with information gleaned from the Far East Prisoners Of War web site (FEPOW), I entered my dad’s name on the Roll Of Honour to the P.O.W.’s. It was when I saw this roll of honour that I thought of Dennis and Sam. Their names should be there too. Upon realising that five years had passed, I was a bit wary of phoning them in case they had died. Dennis would be 89 and Sam, 95. As it happened I’m happy to say, both were still active though both had been poorly. A visit was arranged and once again I met up with Dennis at his home. I told him that his experiences should be written down for the record. He said he had wanted to, but with arthritis in his fingers he could no longer use his typewriter. This is why I took it upon myself to write down his story.

I only hope I can do him justice and finish the sad story.

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.The early days

ennis was born on the 26th November 1917 to Elsie and Frederick Riley of 38, Collington Street, Beeston, Nottingham. He had two older brothers and two younger

sisters. Unfortunately, his upbringing is remembered as being very unhappy due to his father’s cruelty not only to himself but his mother too.

D Happier days were spent at the Chilwell School on Meadow Lane from 1922 – 1932. He enjoyed subjects ranging from geography, history and woodwork, but he excelled at drawing. His hobbies included reading the flying magazine “Flight”, rebuilding engines, camping and cycling. After the war, he enjoyed riding his new BSA A7 motor cycle all over England. Leaving school at fourteen, he applied for a job in the saw-mill at Ericsons the telephone company in Beeston. As there was not yet a vacancy, he refused an offer of a job in another department and was adamant he wanted to work in the saw-mill. The manager was impressed with the youngster’s determination and knowledge of woodworking tools and noted his name and address, telling him that he would send for him when a vacancy arose. Dennis’ uncles, cousins and his father all worked in the woodworking trade at a firm called Hofton’s. He could have easily obtained employment at this firm but he wanted to be well away from his domineering father and refused to apply for an interview. A friend helped Dennis to secure employment at the Raleigh Cycle Works in Radford where he worked at a variety of lathes. This was not his chosen occupation but he knuckled down to the work involved and gave his best. Three months later to his delight, the postman delivered a post card to him informing him of a vacancy at Ericsons. After a successful interview he was offered the job of making telephone, radio and speaker cabinets. Walter French, a departmental manager, was to be his mentor and teach him his trade. He was to start work the following week. Dennis left Raleigh with the foreman shouting after him that the youngster didn’t realise how lucky he was to be working. But he was happy now that he was in his chosen occupation. It would be sometime in 1939 that a foreman, Tommy Clark, approached Dennis who was working at his band saw and pulled him to one side. He told him that the work situation was slowing down and he was to be laid off work for two weeks. Walter French got to hear of the foreman’s decision and immediately came to Dennis’ machine. He was to tell him that as he was such a good worker he was going to overrule the foreman’s decision and he was to stay in work. The dark days of 1939 ended with Britain now at war with Germany and Dennis joining the Home Guard. The postman was to call again, this time with a card telling him he was to be conscripted into the army. The card was shown to his foreman, Jack Adams, who told him that he was in a reserved occupation on war work and he did not have to go in the forces. But Dennis refused the offer, as he was sick of the cruel treatment he still received from his father at home. This was to be a way out for him. On the 26th November 1939, standing a little less than 5’ 7” and weighing in at 119 lb Dennis passed his medical examination as A1. The medical officer asked him where he would like to serve. “As far away as possible”, he replied, happy at the prospect of finally leaving home.

Little did he know he would get his wish, and of what was to come.

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78th/35th LAA Royal Artillery

Gnr Riley Army No. 1700095

n the 30th September 1940, Dennis caught the train at Beeston station to Swindon in Wiltshire. From there he would travel a few miles to Ashton Keynes where he would be

enlisted into the 78th Battery/35th Light Anti Aircraft (or Ack Ack) Regiment of the Royal Artillery. The 35th Regiment was a special TA Regiment formed at Oxford on the 2nd Sept 1939 for the defence of RAF airfields in the area against air attack. Initially recruiting older men between the ages of 25 to 50, it comprised of five batteries with Headquarters at Abingdon, Cheltenham, Gloucester, Oxford and Reading early in 1940. By mid 1940 this regiment reverted to a normal LAA Regiment and reduced to three batteries, 78, 89 and 144. RHQ was located at Oxford.

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Here he would be put through weeks of basic training with all the other recruits before his ‘passing out’ parade and being issued his first assignment. My dad and Sam Barker were amongst these men but the three of them were never together. As yet, they never met one another. Colonel Fiennes greeted the new recruits with the friendly greeting from all regular army ranks above private, “I’ve never seen such a lot of pasty faced buggers in my life. What a complete shower…..But we’ll soon sort you out.” 3

Basic training at ‘Cove House,’ Ashton Keynes, Wilts.

nother Colonel had a couple of dogs that accompanied him on his rounds of the camp. Later when he visited a group of recruits Dennis was told, one of the men, Gnr Croft,

bent down and stroked and made a fuss of the dogs. A The Colonel finished his talk and carried on about his duties around the camp. Later Gnr Croft who had stroked the dogs was summoned to his office. Returning to his group, smiling Gnr Croft told them of his meeting with the Colonel. The colonel had said to him, “Gunner Croft?” “Yes sir.” “I understand you are fond of my dogs” “Yes sir” “Do you have a dog, do you have dog at home Gnr Croft?” “Yes sir.” “Right then. From now on you are my dog handler” That was all Gnr Croft had to do at camp, walk the colonels dogs. He’d landed the cushiest job going.

‘COVE HOUSE’

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Among the men Dennis was billeted with was a religious chap named Johnny Adkin. He would write the longest of letters home and on Sunday mornings, talked his superiors into letting him take services. Also among the gun crew in the billet was a ‘cat burglar’ who would tell them stories of his capers and prison time. But to the man’s credit, if money was left about the billet he never touched it. When Johnny Adkin went to bed, he said his prayers and the rest of the lads would take the ‘mickey’ out of him. But by the time they were trained, Johnny Adkin had converted the crew. Even the cat burglar had asked for prayers before turning in.

A Bofor gun site His first assignment found Dennis on the gun sight of a mobile Bofor gun under the command of Bombardier Hatwell. Here he was to defend a submarine base at Gosport, Southampton, against air attacks. Sam Barker was assigned to defend the Battle of Britain airdrome at Biggin Hill.

A Cunliffe Owen Spitfire

Dennis’ next assignment was to defend ‘Cunliffe Owen’, an aircraft factory making and repairing Spitfires at Eastleigh. While there, at dawn each day the gun crew would ‘stand to’ and prepare their weapon for action. Their duty was to align the sight of the unarmed gun on a distant point, i.e. a telegraph pole, church steeple or chimney. This was achieved by a member of the crew turning a wheel to elevate the gun barrel and another crew member, (Dennis), turning another wheel to transverse the barrel. A piece of equipment called a ‘predictor’ would be operated to calculate the wind speed and also the height of the any aircraft in its sights. The crew would then wait for the command, “ON TARGET” followed by “FIRE” from the senior ranking crewmember.

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On one occasion on ‘stand to’, all the crew expected to hear the metallic thud of the firing pin in the empty breech when the “Fire” command was given. Instead, they were shocked when the gun discharged a live round that was in the breech. When the smoke had cleared, the crew looked nervously at the intended target. The gun sight had been locked on to the tall chimney of Cunliffe Owen, the Spitfire repair factory. After the bricks had finished falling, this chimney was now eight foot shorter This was a complete embarrassment to the senior soldier as well as the whole gun crew. Needless to say the gun crew were all given a severe tongue lashing. Within minutes a staff car dove up to the gun emplacement and an officer strode across to a nervous crew. A statement was made and later, to their surprise, the crew were not punished. But I bet Cunliffe Owen wasn’t too pleased. Another gun crew in the same area as Dennis had changed to a new gun barrel. Their mistake was not to check inside the barrel for grease. When fired, the recoil compressed the grease into a red hot gooey mess that sprayed out over the crew. Ron Petford, as Dennis recalled was temporarily blinded and out of action for a few weeks. There next assignment was at an oil refinery at Hamble, on the Solent. Thank God a repeat of the fiasco at Eastleigh was not repeated. When issued with his 48hour ‘leave’ pass, Dennis very rarely used it to return home. Instead he would lodge at the Y.M.C.A. or at friends or relatives homes. It was on one of these occasions that he recalled some particular memories with a grin. The family who he was lodging with had a beautiful daughter named Terry. “The Marilyn Monroe of her day, she was a beauty,” Dennis drooled as he described her to me. “I could smell her perfume on her pillow as I slept in her bed.” At this point, Dennis still grinning, hurriedly added, “Alone though, I slept alone.”

One day he took her to see one of his gun emplacements and was shocked to discover the sight before him. The whole gun emplacement had been obliterated by a bomb. He found out later that a parachute bomb had scored a direct hit and flattened the whole site... It was when recalling this event, that Dennis also remembered one of the strangest events he saw after a bombing raid on Portsmouth. A stick of bombs had exploded and a pub had literally been blown up from its foundations and deposited across the other side of the street intact. Ignoring the broken windows, he said it looked as though that was where the pub had been built. Of course it was declared unsafe and later demolished.

After the Portsmouth raid

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When returning from leave at relatives in Caterham, Surrey, he joined the queue outside a railway station filled with hundreds of men returning to their bases. Overhead a German bomber was circling. Suddenly the lights came on inside a tobacconist shop doorway. Dozens of men outside the shop shouted for the lights to be extinguished and the lights went out. Searchlights swept the sky and picked out the circling bomber, but lost it as it turned and weaved away. Suddenly the tobacconist lights were switched on again, and again the men shouted their curses. Dennis turned to a soldier with a rifle slung over his shoulder and asked for the loan of it. Taking it from him he smashed the three glass window panels and prodded the rifle at the light shattering the bulb. The soldiers cheered Dennis as he handed the rifle back. Police and warden came running and took Dennis’ name, telling him his action had probably saved the lives of hundreds of men in the station from the bomber above. They said he would be rewarded. Dennis tells me he is still waiting. The troops were on a gun site at the I.C.I. factory at Mirfield when they got the orders for mobilization. They were sent to Middlesbrough to a staging centre, where the 78th made ready for the move to Scotland. It was here that the thought of going overseas to fight proved too much for a couple of the lads. One shot himself in the foot and the other opened a bedroom window and threw himself out. The outcome of both men’s efforts was not known to Dennis, as the next morning he was to join others for the trip to Gouroch in Scotland. A family who had taken a liking to Dennis by letting him have a hot bath, feeding him and generally socializing with him, were sorry to see him go. Days before, they had arranged with the local priest to bless a crucifix and chain. The day before he left they presented him with it and bid him good luck. He was to lose it somewhere in the humid tropics of Sumatra. On the 8th November 1941, the 78th/35th were kitted out for Iraq in the Middle East and entrained to Gouroch.

EMPRESS of JAPAN

t Gourock on the 12th November, they boarded the converted liner “Empress of Japan,” its name would later be changed to “Empress of Scotland” after Japan entered the war.

She was to be part of convoy WS 12 ZM. and its destination was Basra, in Iraq. A

Dennis was impressed by the lovely lines of the ship even though it was now rigged out for troop carrying. One by one the troops each collected a hammock and were directed below decks where they were instructed to hook up their hammocks. This done, Dennis soon mastered the art of climbing into this swaying crude bed and was soon asleep. When he awoke some hours later, he found his way up to the deck and out in the open air. He was surprised to find the ship was now well underway and leaving the Clyde and heading out to sea, having left Gourock in darkness at 11.45pm. Superstition preventing any ship sailing on the 13th. Each morning the men rolled up their hammocks and stowed them away onto shelves. Dennis was to tell me that he would leave a flattened cigarette packet just sticking out of his rolled hammock, ensuring that he kept picking the same one each night. Carrying quite an impressive cargo, the convoy had fifty crated up Hawker Hurricane fighter planes of 17, 135, 136 and 232 squadron RAF, as well as 53rd Infantry Brigade Group, 232 squadron RAF, 6th Heavy and 35th Light AA regiments and the 85th Anti-Tank regiment.

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On 24th Nov 1941, Freetown in Sierra Leone was the first port of call, but the men were not allowed off the ship and were to spend a hot and sticky night aboard. They would lean over the rails and throw coins for the native boys to dive for from their canoes. Some of them soon refused to dive for the pennies thrown, so the cruel humoured of the troops threw half pennies or farthings wrapped in silver foil over the side. This act had every native boy diving madly into the depths to get to the coin first, much to the delight of the soldiers above. These coins were to become known as ‘Glasgow tanners’ by the natives. Two days later on the 26th Nov, the ship departed Freetown. As they were heading out to sea, a solid sounding thud was heard on the side of the ship. Everyone held their breath as they were told it was a torpedo that had hit its target but failed to explode. For the next few days, nervous eyes scanned the sea for tell tale signs of a periscope.

The theatre for use of the troops aboard the Empress of Japan The next few weeks passed without cause for worry as the convoy sailed round the Cape of Good Hope and onward toward the next destination, Durban. With sunbathing on deck and a concert or cinema by night, the ‘passengers’ where kept contented. Now in the tropics, some of the troops, depending were they were billeted certainly appreciated the luxury of the air conditioned ship. Arriving at Durban on the 18th Dec, they all looked forward to a few days ashore as they steamed into the harbour. But this was not to be, because toward the evening they were off again heading back out. The reason behind this move was as an electrical storm was approaching and damage could have been caused to the ship due to her size and the sea movement in the harbour. The Empress of Scotland finally docked in Durban on the 19th Dec and the troops disembarked. Most of them were billeted in derelict buildings but at least it wasn’t rocking. The Post Office was the first call for many of the men as they posted and cabled their Christmas greetings and messages back home. 9

S.S. Narkunda

ews of the Japanese attack on the American Naval base at Pearl Harbour in Hawaii was given, and the men knew now, that the U.S.A. was at last in the war.

Later the Union Jack and the ANZAC clubs would do a roaring trade as the homesick men drank to the health of their families and friends preparing for Christmas back home. Then they enjoyed the sights, sounds and hospitality of Durban.

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After a couple of blissful days, Dennis’ regiment and 6th HAA were told that they had to change ships. On the 21st, the “Narkunda” was to be their home for the next stage of the voyage. After a further couple of balmy days sightseeing, they once more boarded the Narkunda to find that leave for the following day was cancelled as they were now under sailing orders. They were to sail on the 24th and all thoughts of a Christmas Eve ashore were dashed. Before they were to sail, volunteers were asked for to man a gun on the bow of the “Sussex”. Dennis and his cousin, Vern, stepped forward. They preferred the new ship to the scruffy “Narkunda” and looked forward to a more pleasant voyage. But Dennis was out of luck as just before cast off, he was called back to his original post on the “Narkunda”. He never knew why. On the 24th, she steamed out of the harbour and their hopes were lifted as she returned to the dock. She had lost an anchor and had to have a new one fitted. They all thought they would be ashore after all. But luck had failed them as the engineers made a speedy repair and once more they were off out into the open sea. Life on board ship was as good as could be expected among the thousands of troops, but being in a humid climate, trouble started to brew. Below decks the heat started to build up among so many men and complaints followed as to the quality of the food. A mutiny was in the offing but was avoided as fans were provided and the food improved.

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The “Narkunda”, P& O’s largest ship built in 1920, was to transport the 6th HAA and the 35th LAA regiments of the Royal Artillery. This British ship of 16,632 tons was one of four merchant ships in the convoy. The “Aorangi”, another British ship of 17,491 tons, carried 2194 troops. The “Sussex”, a brand new, New Zealand ship at 11,063 tons, carried the crated Hurricane fighters, 3.7 inch AA guns and 14 troops. The “Abbekerk, a Dutch ship and the smallest at 7,906 tons, carried ammunition and 16 troops. Leaving Durban on the 24th Dec, the convoy set sail with one naval escort and after a few days a sea, it split into two convoys and changed course. Due to the situation with the invading Japanese Imperial army, some of the ships were to be diverted to Singapore. Unfortunately, Dennis, Sam and my dad were on this convoy. Later, “HMS Emerald” accompanied with an American converted liner, the “Mount Vernon” would join the convoy at sea. Originally, the “S.S. Washington”, the ship was acquired by the Royal Navy from the Americans and renamed the “Mount Vernon”. Weighing in at 22,559 tons, she was the largest of the convoy. She carried 4882 men and 221 officers of the 18th Division This convoy was codenamed DM 1 and days later on the 4th Jan, the “Narkunda” was refuelled from a tanker at the beautiful Maldive Islands. Once again the troops were not allowed off the ship and they could only gaze at the golden sands and palm trees in the distance. The next day on the 5th Jan, the convoy continued its journey to Singapore. Dennis was never sea sick, but my dad was sick for five days as his watch was on a gun at the bow of the ship. He described in a letter I have saved, that the bow of the ship ploughed deep into the waves in bad weather and soaked them constantly.

CHAOS

n the 12th Dec, Jap planes bombed Singapore and luckily, the incoming convoy was saved due to the heavy monsoon rains. Allied artillery fire had brought down ten planes.

The convoy finally arrived in Keppel Harbour on the 13th Jan. 1942. O. With his men disembarked from the ship, Major Cutbush RA. sought billets for his men. Poor arrangements had been made for the incoming troops and the Major marched his men to the Singapore Harbour Board Club. Ignoring the arguments of the club committee, the Major commandeered the building for his men. He ordered Dennis and up on the roof with a Bren gun as lookout. He was there all day and watched the trains on a nearby railway line unloading evacuating Australians from Malaya. Jap bombers flew overhead. “How far away are the Japs?” Dennis heard someone shout. “Don’t worry, they’ll be here tomorrow”, came back the chilling reply

The following day it was discovered that the equipment and munitions for the regiment were on another ship that was on the other half of the convoy sailing to Basra in Iraq. The troops had nothing to fight with and the Japs were on their way.

The Japs had begun their bombing of Singapore on the 8th Dec, and torpedo bombers sunk the HMS Repulse and the HMS Prince Of Wales two days later on the 10th. Now with the Royal Navy out of the theatre, this would leave the Japs to continue their amphibious landings unhindered. They saw Singapore as a strategic port that had to be captured to use as a launch pad against the Allies in the area.

Singapore under bomb attack Bofors and equipment were issued from Singapore stocks to 6 HAA Regiment and deployed to various gun positions. A gun crew went across the Causeway to defend Jahore, but the Japs could not be stopped and the crew were all killed in the action. The Causeway, the only road to Singapore from Jahore, would be blown up on the 31st Jan by the Allied Forces leaving Malaya. But this action only delayed the enemy for one week.

The breeched Causeway

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Jap planes bombed the city daily and raids were increasing. Eight or nine raids daily were not unusual. The biggest raid consisted of 125 aircraft, but again the monsoon rains averted a disaster to shipping. With the ever worsening situation the units were ordered to retreat from the smoking, stricken city. Dennis remembered the main road out was the Bukit Timah road. Ron Petford, a chauffeur to Lt. Gray was instructed to stop his car after just leaving his quarters. He had left something behind. Lt. Gray ran back into the building and upon entering, a direct hit was made by a salvo from a Jap naval vessel. The officer was killed. The fleeing troops moved on to Nee Soon, then on to Seleta (transit camp) before the order came through to evacuate the island and reinforce the 6thHAA on Sumatra. Here they were to defend an oil refinery at Pladjoe.

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Escape from Singapore

“S.S. IPOH” Photo of an oil painting kindly sent to me from Alex Norrie. His grandfather owned the

painting after serving as an engineer aboard her in the 1920’s

head of Dennis, on Jan 30th, a convoy of small ships had left with troops and equipment heading for Pladjoe and Palembang in Sumatra. Sam was aboard this convoy. I haven’t

yet found out if my dad was with him or Dennis. A The next day, still in Singapore, Dennis’ group came across the 100ft “SS.IPOH,” the only vessel moored up at the quayside lying empty and idle. Dennis heard the captain shouting to the men that he had no fuel (coal), no crew and would not be able to put to sea. The soldiers looked about the quayside and saw heaps of coal ready to be loaded for ships boilers. Within minutes orders were given and men toiled to shovel the coal aboard as fast as possible. A few soldiers jumped aboard and started stoking up the boiler. The troops on the quayside made their way along the decks, but being so many the boat began to list heavily. Immediately the order was given for a more orderly dispersion of weight across the deck and men were sent below as the decks became crowded. Eventually the Straits Steamship Company’s little ship cast off and slowly steamed away from the hell of Singapore. Building up speed she headed towards Sumatra, everyone on board praying that the ship would not turn turtle with so many aboard. Above them a lone Jap bomber had spotted them and released three bombs. Already patched up from previous damage, Dennis wondered just how much more this craft could take as he held his breath watching the line of bombs heading toward them. Fortune was smiling on them as the bombs hit the water yards away exploding in a line and showering the huddled troops with water. A lad from Bridgenorth, *Jimmy Green of the 6th HAA, suffered an injury to his leg from shrapnel. Dennis did not know if any other injuries occurred to the rest of the men. * (Eventually, Jimmy would have to have the leg amputated in the P.O.W. camp and Dennis would make him crutches.) 14

Sumatra

n stifling humid heat, the “IPOH” eventually negotiated the Moesi River and finally made it to a wooden jetty, the troops disembarking at a small village and then marching a short

way to Pladjoe, near an oil installation depot. The men were at a loss as what to do next and were wandering about the area when a group of Dutch authorities stopped them for questioning. Identifying themselves as Royal Artillery without guns, the Dutch provided them with a Bofor gun which was gratefully accepted.

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Fourteen miles north was an aerodrome, codenamed P1, and another, P2, forty miles S.W. of Palembang. This one had had been covertly built by the Dutch for such an occasion, and could not be spotted from the air unless the pilot knew its location. Sam Barker and his crew were ordered aboard trucks and to set off to defend the secret aerodrome P2. Sam told me that they were to man the only gun site at the P2 airstrip. This ‘airstrip’ being no more than cleared field. Dennis recalled an incident when the local Commissioner of Palembang in Sumatra drove up alongside a group of army officers. He had requested the services of a driver as he had dismissed his native chauffeur. Permission was granted and he drove over to the group of soldiers Dennis was with. Stepping from his immaculate Cadillac, he told the men that he needed a driver. A soldier, who had been talking to the gun crew, stepped forward and secured the cushy job of chauffeuring the diplomat around the area. Dennis would not see them again for a few weeks and when he did, it would be nearly four hundred miles further south. Later in the afternoon, Dennis and a couple of mates met a Dutch resident. He kindly offered to run them a bath, but his offer had to be turned down as orders reached them that they were to return to the “IPOH” and spend the night aboard. The next morning the men had to parade, and Dennis together with a couple of more unfortunates, were afflicted with a mild attack of malaria. They were put to bed in a building and receiving no treatment, sweated it out for a week. He recovered from his attack and joined his mates as they wandered around Pladjoe. Everyone was just seemed to be sightseeing as no one knew what was happening next. The lads sampled coffee in a café before strolling down the road again. Dennis couldn’t believe his eyes when they came across an open air cinema. A roof and one wall with the screen on, was all the building consisted of. It was nothing like the Beeston cinema back home, but they sat down to watch the film. He couldn’t believe he was in a war zone as the picture flickered on the screen.

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Action Stations

ennis often wondered how orders were carried from A to B when they were out in the ‘wild,’ but true to form, they were again ordered back to the “IPOH” for the night.

Dennis wasn’t too happy about this as he had been offered accommodation from a Dutch family. But orders are orders and he returned to spend another night in the hot, humidity of the stinking “IPOH”.

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The next day saw them back at Pladjoe as information was received that a flotilla of Jap boats were heading up the river toward the oil installations. Major Cutbush had a plan to flood the river with fuel from the storage tanks ashore, and set light to it when the Japs came up the river. This plan was abandoned due to consideration given to the many native villages along the river banks. Part of the regiment headed for the P1 aerodrome. Dennis was in this group. The aerodrome P1 was targeted by the Japs and attacked several times, and although several thousand RAF ground personnel that had been evacuated from Singapore were in the area, most were unarmed. Dennis now joined his gun crew and taking over a Dutch Bofor, fired on the incoming planes and paratroopers.

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THE FALL OF SINGAPORE

he water supply to Singapore from the mainland fails on14th Feb. Most areas and hospital have no water.

At 2pm Jap troops rush into Alexandra Hospital and bayonet a young Lt Weston who is standing in the doorway holding a white flag. Doctors and nurses are bayoneted. Patients are mercilessly bayoneted in groups in their beds. Only three men escaped.

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The Malay Regiment of 1400 men fought to the last man against 13000 Jap troops.

The Japanese march into the city.

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The Final Humiliation

ingapore fell when the Japs converged on the city and the order was given for the Allied Forces to surrender. Lt.General Percival would meet his counterpart, Lt .General

Yamashita at the Ford Motor Company on Bukit Timah road and reluctantly sign the surrender at 6.10pm on the 15th February 1942.

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80,000 British and Commonwealth troops surrender in the final humiliation of the greatest military defeat in British history.

A total of 130,000 men, women and children were taken and held as prisoners of war.

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Paratroops at Pladjoe

n the 15th Feb, Lockheed Hudson aircraft approached and circled the P1 aerodrome. These were thought to be friendly, but as Zero fighters circled above them doubt set in. O

The appearance of hundreds of Jap Paratroops leaving the Hudson planes quickly dismissed all doubt. They were JapKawasaki Ki-56 planes made under licensefrom Lockheed Hudson in 1938. As the paratroopers fired toward the gr

ound, the

by the paratroopers

Bofors and machine guns on the ground opened up. Jap troops were also landing from boats onthe river to reinforce the paratroops. Dennis’ cousin, Vern Richmond, was on a gun site that was overrunbut he managed to escape with Freddy Smithand another of his crew. A story Dennis heard of this incident

was that some natives helped Freddy Smith evade the Japs by guiding him to an air raid shelter and wrapping a native garment around him, covering his uniform. Freddy was a dark skinned lad before setting out for the Far East and now with a sun tan, he passed easily fonative. This was a life saver as a Jap paratrooper came into the shelter looking for Allied soldiers. With bayoneted rifle he walked slowly passed th

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r a

e frightened natives and Freddy,

ith over of

ement at

e

ness. He could now only assume that the rest of the crew ere either dead or captured.

st

h and Dutch soldiers strewn around

nter ttacks and both sides took many losses.

Oil tanks sabotaged by retreating Allies

aratroops were to pay a high price with 80% casualties. The Japs were still unaware of P2.

and out the other doorway. It had been a very close call! Vern was to tell Dennis later that he managed to get to some Dutch authorities wa couple of his gun crew. They suggested he take one of their vehicles under the cdarkness that evening and try to find the rest of his crew, if they were still alive. That night they slowly reversed the vehicle with a gunner guiding it, down the narrow track as far as they dare. They then crept toward the direction of the gun site. Hearing movthe site, Vern called out for the site commander…..“Bombardier Stutterford……..” The reply was a hail of gun fire. Vern and his mates turned and ran as fast as they could to thwaiting vehicle and sped off back down the narrow winding track, crashing through bushes and bouncing off trees in the darkw More Japanese troops had landed from craftcoming up the river and reinforcing the firwave, secured the oil refinery at Pladjoe. That day, orders were issued to abandon Pladjoe and head for Palembang. A road block between PI and Pladjoe was set up by the Japs and was to change hands many times during the day. Reports were made by aBritish flyer of seeing hundreds of bodies of Jap, Britisthe area. The oil refinery too changed hands in coua

The paratroops made three drops and at the end of the battle for Palembang, the p

PALEMBANG

ennis and his comrades made their escape from Pladjoe by trucks supplied by the Dutch. On

keep awD the way there they met some lads by the roadside who shouted a warning to them to

ay from P2 or they would go mad. The truck carried on to the capital, Palembang. Here they assembled under the command of Major Cutbush and began their march along a narrow track through the jungle. As they rounded a bend, the Major ordered Dennis, now carrying a Bren gun to stay behind. He concealed himself in a dry ditch with camouflage and trained his gun on the bend in the track. Dennis told me he was beginning to worry himself with his thoughts. What would I do if the Japs show up? What if the Jap troops come around the bend and he was to open up on them? They would scatter but all guns would be aimed and fired at him. He’d be dead meat for sure. But the troops never came and he was thankfully recalled by the Major. As they made camp for the night at a deserted native village, he recalled the lads’ roadside warning about staying clear of P2. In the pitch black jungle could be heard all manner of strange noises. Birds or monkeys screeching, twigs cracking as animals (or Japs) trod their way through dense undergrowth frightening the life out of them. Sumatra is a beautiful place when in a civilised environment. But it could be deadly around the impenetrable jungle between the mountains and swamps were panthers roamed. Most of the country was unexplored and plagued by diseases such as dysentery, cholera, typhoid, malaria, black water and dengue fever. As if this wasn’t enough, snakes, mosquitoes, leeches, river crocodiles and alligators were ever ready to bite onto human flesh. In the sea, sharks would be waiting for their next meal be it animal, or human That night when it was their time for guard duty, Dennis and his mate saw two eyes shining in the dark and silently coming towards them. Frightened out of their wits, holding their breath and standing stock still, the ‘eyes’ silently past them and disappeared. With a sigh of relief they spent a fearful couple of hours on guard. Next day they were told the ‘eyes,’ were just harmless fireflies. Also that night while five of them were sleeping in a hut on some primitive beds, they were awoken with a squealing, swearing and shouting. Ernie ‘Mickey’ Cook, a despatch rider, sat cursing in the middle of the room. His bed had been overturned with him in it after a wild boar had come into the hut on its forage for food. Who was the most scared is in question, but the boar made its getaway in the confusion. Seconds later a shot was heard and a report came back that the boar had been shot by an officer. The next morning the truth about the shot was known. A young RAF lad had cracked under the strain and blew his brains out with his rifle. As the troops walk passed his body, the ants were immediately covering his body and his face was already eaten down to the bone. On their march to P2, Dennis was struck by the paternal instinct of a family of orang-utans’ holding hands crossing the trail in front of them. He said it reminded him of a human family going shopping. But his next sighting of a wild animal unnerved him. Lying across the railway track in front of him was the remains of a huge alligator. Its head, severed from its body was on one side of the rail, its body between the rails and it severed tail on the other side of the rail. Obviously it had mistimed its crossing when a train was passing. By the time they reached P2 and settled themselves in on the 16th Feb, the order was given to abandon the site and destroy all equipment including the cookhouse utensils. Heading out, Dennis’ group came across a rail head just a few miles up the road. It reminded him of an old one shack station he’d seen in old cowboy films way out west... Approaching the preparation officer, Lt McCorkindale, Dennis asked if he could go and try to find some means of transport to collect the rest of the troops. Permission was given only if he took someone with him, so he set off with Gnr Peter Musson on their search.

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Eventually they came across an abandoned Ford V8 bus at a rail head with all the wiring ripped out. After about an hour, Dennis and Peter finally got the engine running and drove the bus back to towards P2. Along the road they came across two columns of troops trudging towards them. Turning around, the mix of Australian, Dutch and American soldiers and airman thankfully boarded the bus. But one Dutch lad was drunk and carrying a Thompson machine gun. Suddenly he started firing it in the air and as he started to lower the blazing barrel, an American quickly stepped forward and with one blow laid the man out. The Dutchman was unceremoniously thrown into the bus. Now fully laden and with men perilously hanging on to each side of the vehicle, it set off back to the rail head. At the ‘station’ stood a goods train with a two man crew standing around not knowing what to do. The scared men didn’t want to be caught helping the Allied Forces escape by the Japs. Their problem was solved when an RAF man and a Yank did some bargaining with them and coal was shovelled into the engines furnace and steam was soon up. The wagons were carrying sacks rice and bananas and each wagon had been emptied of its load by RAF and other forces to make room for them. The wagons were packed tight with them. Dennis and his group managed to find a wagon empty of men, but still laden with the sacks of rice, bananas and a crate of Dutch ‘Marauds’ cigarettes. Scrambling aboard the men perched precariously on the cargo of sacks as the train started to pull away. Some of the men were carrying articles they had picked up from abandoned houses. One had two thick stamp albums and ‘Spider’ Webb had hold of a complete tiger skin. What he was going to do with it was anybody’s business. Above was a rusty corrugated metal roof that kept the sun off the men but was very hot to the touch and radiated heat onto them. They had to jettison the sacks to get lower in the wagon. As they passed native huts or small villages, the sacks were thrown over the side of the wagon. Looking backwards, Dennis saw natives eagerly snatch up the sacks and carry them off. Rice and bananas would be served at their mealtime for weeks ahead. Running alongside the railway line was a road which was now filling up with people laden trucks and other vehicles heading south. The train was heading for the most southern tip of Sumatra, Oesthaven, 300 miles down the line.

After some time the train came to a halt and the yanks went up to the engine to investigate. The crew were still scared and refused to take the train any further. The situation was solved when the yanks drew their pistols and pointed them at their heads, ordering them to get under way. The yanks stayed aboard the engine and carefully watched the crew. A few miles further down the line they stopped the train again. This time there were no threats, bargaining, or persuading. The crew were booted off the engine and the yanks drove the train to a halt at Oesthaven.

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LEAVING OESTHAVEN

he commissioner of Sumatra had decided to make his escape from the country as quick as he could before the Japs arrived. His new driver drove him to a jetty where a boat was

waiting to take away the evacuees. After saying goodbye to the Commissioner, the driver asked what he was to do with the car.

T “That car….. is now yours,” he said before turning and boarding the boat. The driver was aghast as he returned to the vehicle and drove over to the roadside after spotting Dennis and his crew beside the train. Walking over to Dennis and the lads, he told them the tale of his new car. But then he asked, “What the bloody hell am I going to do with it?” None of the gun crew had any idea either as they were now ready to vacate the area the same as everyone else. The driver, deciding that the gleaming luxurious Cadillac was too good for the Japs, did no more than put it into gear and drove it straight into the sea. After a search, the troop finally managed to get aboard a small steamer boat and began the short voyage across the Sundra Strait to the neighbouring island of Java. 22

JAVA

Other troops had evacuated direct from Singapore to Batavia, the capital of Java, to even more chaos.

he little steamer was run aground on the beach and everyone abandoned ship. The local natives thought they were being invaded, but were reassured when it was explained who

they were. T The commissioner of the island drove up to the group and questioned where they were from. When they explained he said it was impossible. Japs patrolled the straits regularly. They all agreed that they had been VERY lucky not to meet them. Transport was found and they drove to an abandoned school to make camp. Dennis remembered this school as being named “MR CORNELIUS SCHOOL”. Who Mr Cornelius was, Dennis never found out. After a few days, they were off again and camped that night at a disused army barracks. Again a few days were spent here, until one morning Major Cutbush called certain groups together and told them of the predicament they were all facing. The Dutch had now capitulated and he asked the men if they wanted to escape on their own. Guns and ammunition would be supplied. Two men stepped forward. Dennis stayed with his group and headed for the mountain area. After a few weeks wandering aimlessly around, Dennis came across a native tinkering with the engine of his Norton motor cycle. As Dennis had a BSA motor cycle back home, he got talking to the native and to his delight, helped with the repair. It was while with this native that Dennis was to receive orders for the entire troop to make their way to Tjilijap, a point where all were to surrender to the Japs. But his mate, Peter Musson, had come down with a bout of malaria and Lt McCorkindale ordered Dennis to stay with him ‘till he recovered. They took the ailing soldier to a hut and the officer told Dennis they would send a truck back in a few days to collect them. The native made his two new friends meals while Dennis finished the repair. Dennis described the meals as ‘something he’d sooner forget about’.

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Japanese at Batavia

bout seven days later, he heard the sound of tyres coming along the track towards them. T

arms tohey must have sent a jeep for us, he thought as he ran out into the track waving his the driver. But to his surprise and annoyance the jeep did not slow down and headed

straight for him. Throwing himself onto the scrub beside the track, the jeep raced passed with two JAPANESE OFFICERS on board. By the time he was back on his feet, the vehicle was out of sight among the trees.

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Minutes later to their delight, a truck did come to collect them to take them back to where the rest of the troop was camped by the side of the road. But before they had driven off the mountain area, the truck ran out of fuel, luckily near some buildings. The driver went one way in search of fuel and Dennis had a wander down a path in the opposite direction. As the path rounded a bend, Dennis met his first Jap. Both were struck dumb as they faced each other. Then to his surprise, the Jap came forward with his arm outstretched to shake his hand. As they shook hands, the Jap was greeting Dennis like a long lost brother and showed him a picture of his wife or girl friend back in Japan. The Jap then pointed along the path Dennis had come and then waved him away. Dennis quickly made his way back to the truck. The truck driver had found some petrol and after Dennis got aboard, he drove down the road to the tents camped by the roadside. Dennis found his mate, Jock Walsh, and with the help of a little Dutch lad named Abbas, they erected a makeshift shelter using plastic and wood boarding. They would stay here till ordered to a certain point for the Japs to take control. Once there, they were put aboard a train and taken to Jakarta. From here, on *March 8th (his cousin Vern’s birthday) they were marched to Tanjong Priok, a holding camp for all the prisoners the Japs had now taken. * March 9th was the date on my dad’s Japanese p.o.w. index card (applied for in 2006)as date of capture in Java, so he may have shared Dennis’ experiences in Sumatra too. Until I trace someone who knew him then, I’ll never know.

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Tanjong Priok Camp

Japanese bomb Tanjong Priok docks 1942

t first, the Allied prisoners would make fun of their captors when they lined for parade. When asked to “number off” down the ranks, the men would shout out their number,

1…2…3…etc. After they got to 8…9…10...it changed to JACK…QUEEN…KING. A This practise was soon curbed when every time the JACK…QUEEN…KING was shouted, a particular Jap guard would smash his fist into the face of the nearest prisoner. This Jap could obviously understand English. When asked their name, they would reply with, BING CROSBY, KING GEORGE, MICKEY MOUSE and any other famous name they could think of. But once again, another fist would draw blood from the nearest unlucky soldier. This practise soon came to a stop. The Allied troops were soon to find out the international Geneva Convention rules of how to treat prisoners of war, would not be adhered to by the Japanese. One day while Dennis was walking near a barbed wire fence exercising, a Jap with an Alsatian guard dog shouted across to him. He shouted again and slapped a whip at the side of his leather boot. Dennis didn’t like the look of this situation and as the Jap was on the other side of the wire, turned and ran back to his hut. Once inside he sat on his bed and took off his glasses. Almost immediately the Jap with the dog stormed into the hut. The “Attention” order was shouted out and the men stood to attention beside their beds. The Jap, still slapping the whip on his boot walked along the line of men staring into their faces. He came level with Dennis who, still without his spectacles, stood stock still and eyes forward. Not recognising him without his glasses, the Jap walked straight past him and to the door. Turning, he shouted something in Japanese to the men, and then left the building. Dennis sat down on his bed with a huge sigh of relief. The Jap was a member of the sadistic secret police, the Kampetai. These men were to become known as the worst of the worst for cruelty and torture.

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The monsoon season caused the POW’s all distress when caught without shelter. The force and quantity of rain that showered down on them felt like hailstones on their bare backs and shoulders. A metal tank they used to boil water in would fill twenty four inches in one rainfall. In this tank would be put sulphur to bathe the wounds, sores and ulcers of the men. Sores on their toes were known as Jap Happy Feet and Dennis and Vern would make wooden soles and from the rotten boots, fashion thin straps of leather to fasten around their feet. Whilst out on a working party one day at a place called the ‘Olive Grove’, they were sent to clear some dense vegetation. The tools they were to work with were pathetic. There wasn’t a decent edge on the axes or machetes. Dennis chopped at a bamboo trunk and the axe bounced off. When the Japs shouted “SPEEDO, SPEEDO,” Dennis complained to the guard but was slapped about the face for his trouble. The work party started to slowly hack at the high, sharp and thorny grass and the guards moved away. Dennis’ group found an almost buried building in the undergrowth beside a railway track. A couple of men went inside to explore and to their amazement found a brand new Bofor gun barrel in a box and a couple of rounds of ammunition. The men came out and looked around the area. A few yards away was a steep bank leading down to an inlet from the sea, and on the rail track, was a steam engine with a trail of smoke coming from the stack. Heads were put together and as plan was hatched. A lookout was posted and the men retrieved the gun barrel from the building and carried it to the edge of the bank. With no guard around, the barrel was duly rolled down the slope and disappeared with a splash beneath the water below. The Japs would not be using this gun. The men returned to their working area as one of the lads picked up the two live shells. Spotting a Jap guard sauntering toward them, he asked his mates to cause a diversion. As the guard got nearer the men started shouting and running toward him, hitting the ground with their machetes. “SNAKE….SNAKE” they screamed, running wildly in all directions. The Jap turned and ran away from them fearing for his life. The lad with the live rounds had now reached the deserted steam engine and quickly climbing aboard, threw them into the firebox. Jumping down and running as fast as he could back to his mates, they moved further away into the undergrowth. All the men were flat on the ground before the engine exploded. On another work party at Batavia docks, they were unloading and stacking aviation fuel and petrol from ships to the dock. If the drums were heavily lowered onto the dock from the crane, the men found the dented drums easier to loosen the caps. These were then stood upside down and the fuel slowly leaked away. Other drums were given an additive of ....sand or earth. While looking out over the river, a sudden glint under the water caught Dennis’ eye. Peering and squinting into the water on the river bed some ten feet below, he could make out the chrome plated petrol tank of a motor bike. When the ripples on the surface flattened off, he was surprised to see it was a BSA motor bike in good condition. It must have been dumped quite recently as no rust or algae had yet tarnished the shiny tank. Something else the Japs wouldn’t be using in this war.

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At these docks they came across a tug with the Jap crew having a tea party on board. They were singing and clapping and slightly drunk. One Jap came onto the deck and dived over the stern with a rope in his hand. The prisoners stood looking down into the water at the man busying himself in the depths. Suddenly he broke the surface shouting up to his fellow crew members. The rope was loop around a winch and slowly a wooden crate was hauled from the water. Once aboard, the crate was levered open and bottles of whisky were passed around the merry crew. They had found cases of spirits under the tug that the Dutch had thrown into the sea before they had arrived. Tobacco had been set afire too to stop the enemy using it. Dennis and his mate found tins of half burnt tobacco in a loading bay and asked the drunken seaman if they could keep it. He waved them off with a cheery smile and told them “OK..OK” Dennis and Vern would be kept busy fashioning pipes from toothbrush handles. Dennis marvelled at Vern’s ability to make a drill bit out of an old bicycle wheel spoke to drill down the length of the handle.

St Georges Chapel

Dennis and Vern Richmond were involved with other prisoners in the making of this chapel.

While at this site he was surprised to meet a lad from the same factory he worked at back in Beeston.

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Java Memorial Windows

Replicas of two Java Memorial Windows made by a British naval officer, Lt Cdr H C Upton RNVR, while a prisoner of war at Tandjong Priok camp near Batavia,

Java. They were designed for the tiny St. George's Chapel which had been built within the camp by the prisoners

between April - July 1942. Over 60 years on, the originals survive and are on permanent display at the Anglican

Church of All Saints, Jakarta. The replicas, alongside 2 additional windows by David Hillhouse are now on display at National Memorial Arboretum, Alrewas, Staffordshire.

National Memorial Arboretum - Tel 01283 792 333.

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Back to Singapore

Tanjong Priok docks

even or eight months would pass before the troops were ordered aboard a ship to be taken to Singapore. Dennis thinks this ship was named “BOSTON MARU”.

Life aboard was appalling as the men were loaded like cattle into the stinking holds of the ship. The voyage to Singapore took three days and they were fed once a day with a diet of different coloured rotten rice, or a string like vegetable leaf in hot water. This food was lowered down in a bucket to the packed like sardines captives. Men were brought up on deck in groups once a day from the almost unbearable hot and humid, dark stinking hold. These men were to use this time to use the toilet which meant using one part of the deck near the scuppers. This deck was then hosed down when the men had finished relieving themselves. They were then put back down into the hold and others brought up.

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These ships were to become known as “hell ships.” Some ships sailed to Japan and if the conditions aboard didn’t kill the unfortunate captives before they reached their destinations, some would drown. Due to a strange oddity of war, as Japan had refused to sign up to the Geneva Convention, they could not fly the Red Cross Flag when transporting POW’s. This resulted in the Allies mistakenly sinking thirteen ships by torpedo from subs, shelled by warships or bombs from aircraft. Many prisoners were trapped in the holds because the Japs locked the hatches. They were glad when the ship arrived and they disembarked. From the dockside they marched to the town of Changi and were held in an old army camp.

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Incident at Selerang Square

eptember 1st 1942. The Japanese captors informed the Australian and British Army officers that a document was to be signed by all captives under their control. This

document was a declaration that the captives were not to attempt any escapes. Needless to say, they all refused. Twice. This infuriated the Jap command and around 16,000 POW’s were assembled into the square. The men stood their ground, and then civilians were brought into the square too as Jap machine gun posts were assembled at each corner of the square. The captives were kept in the square in the blazing sun for three days and dysentery was to spread. British officers who were taken to see four POW’s shot for trying to escape, advised their men to sign and the British Army would not recognise it as a legal document as it was signed under duress.

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The “document”

When searching the internet pages, I came across this item below that is worthy of note.

Jack Scrivener of the Cambridgeshire Regiment wrote

this account of the Indian Sikh’s treachery in his memoirs.

housands of Indian troops on Singapore never fired a shot, and at the first opportunity went over to the Japs to join a Free India movement under a man

named Chandra Bose. The Sikhs, who fought so well in North Africa, joined the Japs and were guards over us at Changi and were cruel bastards in the months to come.’

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He also mentions that Indian troops manned the corner machine guns guarding the prisoners herded into Selerang Barracks.

In March 1944, the fittest of those who had survived the building of the infamous Burma Railway were sent back to Singapore to await shipment to Japan - to work in equally horrendous conditions down the mines. Jack Scrivener, the survivor, observed: "One afternoon low-flying bombers (American) passed overhead, and Indian troops who had gone over to the Japs fired Bofors guns at them."

In 1946 their leader, Chandra Bose, was killed in a plane crash whilst trying to get to Russia.

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Dennis told me that the cruelty by these turncoats was shown when a young lad who had not shown ‘respect’ to them, was bundled off into a workshop. Word went around the camp that they had squeezed his head in a vice until he died. Dennis was on ‘stick picket’ at a gate to his compound, when a weary figure approached the gate. Recognising the man dressed only in a loin cloth as from his compound, Dennis let him through without challenging him. The man shuffled passed him and after a few steps turned to Dennis and asked why he hadn’t saluted him. It was then that he recognised the man as Lt Lloyd. But wearing only a loin cloth how was he to instantly tell. Before he could answer, the officer rambled on about the Kings Army regulations and told Dennis that he was on a charge. He then wandered wearily away, talking to himself. He clearly was suffering some kind of metal breakdown. After his stint at picket duty he was called before the C.O. Listening to the charge of not saluting an officer, Dennis was then asked to explain his reason for such insubordination. “Because Kings Regulations state I am to salute the rank and uniform. Not the man,” Dennis replied. “The man was not wearing a uniform and I saw no rank.” The C.O. thought for a moment, and then agreed with Dennis’ answer. But knowing of the officers failing faculties, advised Dennis that he was giving him seven days ‘confined to barracks,’ as a punishment. He was to inform Lt Lloyd if he was asked by him. The C.O. smiled as he returned Dennis’ salute, both men knowing that the confined to barracks punishment meant that Dennis could not leave the camp. That’ll teach you, Dennis. Anyway, where was there to go? It also kept him off the heavy duties of the working party. After a couple of months, the prisoners where once again taken aboard stinking ships and set off to sea. There next stop would be Kuching in Sarawak, Borneo.

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BATU-LINTANG CAMP

Col Suga’s address at Batu-Lintang

hey arrived at Batu-Lintang during a monsoon late one afternoon. Stripping off their wet clothing, they

hung it up to dry for the next day. T Came the morning, they were quickly called to parade and later that day watched as the camp commander, Colonel Suga, arrived in an American Buick. Striding over to an old abandoned cart, he jumped up on it and hand on sword, began his address to the prisoners. “You have been captured by the Japanese Imperial Army, blah, blah, blah,” he informed them, the prisoners not understanding the rest of his sermon. But at the end he said “You will have three days holiday…..yesterday, today and tomorrow.” Dennis and Sam remembered this as one of the few times the men all laughed together. Yesterday was gone, today had only a few hours left and tomorrow never came. Colonel Suga Incidentally, these four words were to become the title of Vern Richmond’s war memoirs. Vern and Dennis were to eat and sleep next to each other on the floor of number 10 hut, until the end of the war.

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The mystery photograph?

or the first 12/18 months Dennis was put to work in working parties outside the camp. It was while working in the river securing wooden pilings for a jetty, that he saw a small

piece of paper sticking out of the mud. He quickly tucked it into his loin cloth with the intention of drying it out for use as a cigarette paper for one of the other lads. Back at camp he took out the paper and was surprised to see it was a small photograph of two girls in their twenties. When he dried it out and turned it over, he was even more surprised to see written in indelible pencil or ink, the words ‘CHILWELL 1939’. Chilwell is the next village to Beeston where Dennis lived back in the UK.

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He showed it to Vern and this photo was never used for the intended cigarette paper, but was secreted somewhere and eventually brought back home years later. This strange occurrence would be the reason Dennis and I were to meet some 60 years later, and even stranger, me writing of his experiences.

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Jap Brutality The Japs wanted an airstrip at Kuching, but their aircraft often crashed into a hill that was at the beginning of a suitable flat open area. This makeshift airstrip was suitable for light aircraft but the transporters had difficulty on the approach and sometimes aborted the landing or crashed. The Japanese decided that the hill must be removed. They had hundreds of men at their disposal (literally) and they were duly ordered to the hill. In searing heat and using basic tools such as pick, blunt axes, shovel and basket, the prisoners spent their working day removing trees, bushes and earth from the top of the hill. Beatings, or bashings as they were called, were metered out daily. It was here that a Jap guard was given the nickname, “The Kuching Stamper”. His cruel streak had him stamping down hard on the baskets of earth that the prisoners filled, just so they could carry more. It would then take two men to lift the basket on to the unfortunate prisoners back, for them to totter away to empty it further down the hill. Eventually, after weeks of labour, a safer approach to the landing strip could be made. Dennis’ first hand experience of extreme cruelty from his captors, came when he and his mate, six foot six’ ‘Big Jock’ Tenant from Hamilton were returning to their hut. As they walked passed a Jap guard they made their customary bow to him. Either they had not bowed in the correct manner or the guard was bored and enjoyed the cruelty he could inflict on the undernourished ailing captives. He had them stop and face each other, Dennis’ head not reaching Jock’s chest. Screaming in broken English and sign language the guard ordered the two men to strike each other. This was an often used method of amusing the guards. Jock slapped Dennis lightly across the face and he too, returned the slap. The Jap strode forward screaming at them to hit harder. Dennis knew that if Jock did strike with full force, even in his poor condition he would easily knock him over. After a couple of more slaps, the Jap pulled Dennis back. Angrily he looked at Jock and screamed. “NO ….LIKE THIS.” The guard then turned to Dennis and punched him hard in the face. Dennis staggered back but managed to keep on his feet, knowing that if he fell, the guard would kick him viciously until he got up or died. Unfortunately his glasses were sent flying and as he bent down to pick them up, the guard rammed the rifle butt down across his hand and then stamped down hard crushing both glasses and fingers. This was followed with a rifle butt strike to his now visible ribs. Dennis went down in agony, nearly passing out. He cannot recall if he was kicked or not, but the next thing he knew was being pulled to his feet by Jock. The Jap was still screaming at them both when a Jap doctor shouted orders to him to bring the two prisoners to the veranda of the hut. Dismissing the guard and beckoning the men inside, Dr. Yamamoto, pointed to the telephone on the wall and made signs that it was out of order. Dennis limped over to the telephone and recognising the model, managed to unscrew some fasteners and open a small hatch on the wooden cabinet. There inside was a small plaque signifying the model, serial number and where it was made. It was made by ERICSONS of BEESTON. Dennis had to laugh even though he was still in pain from the rifle butt blow. “Bloody hell……I could have even made this myself,” he said to Jock. “I made these back home in ‘Blighty’.” Dr Yamamoto eventually had Dennis understand that he could take calls but not ring out. Dennis was to fix. The phone was dead and removing another panel on the side of the cabinet, he extracted a badly corroded battery. This is all that the machine needed and he showed it to the doctor. “AH SO”, he said smiling, now understanding the problem.

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He reached into his desk drawer and brought out two cigarettes. Handing them to Dennis he told him to smoke them back at his hut. They both bowed and left the hut. Dr Yamamoto was one of the few decent Japs in the camp that treated the men like humans. The Japs were given nicknames by the prisoners such as, Little Pig, Big Pig, the Malingerer and The Bear, just to name a few. Little Pig took great delight in slapping prisoners daily and the brutal Big Pig, would demonstrate his ‘party piece’ to other guards at the earliest convenience on working parties. He would line up the weary, skeletal prisoners in such a position that when he struck the first man with a bone crushing blow to the head, others went down like dominoes. Another instance of bestial cruelty metered out was when the prisoners were made to line up beside their sleeping area when the men came back from working parties. One of the young lads aged about twenty one, had cut the bottom out of his aluminium water bottle and made a false bottom to conceal items. He regularly smuggled in an egg or two this way, but his luck had ran out. Obviously tipped off, the guard walked slowly up to each man and took their water bottle from them, inspecting it closely and shaking it near his ear. The Jap made his way slowly down the line and standing before the young twenty one year old, shook his bottle. A rattle came from it and the now frightened lad knew he was in for a beating. The guard grinned and pulled the bottle apart revealing two eggs. He then slowly walked across to another guard and gave him the eggs. He turned toward the young lad standing at attention, and swinging the water bottle by its thin strap at shoulder height, walked slowly toward him. He raised his arm and brought the metal bottle slicing across the side of the lads head, instantly opening up his skull. He died before he hit the floor. Often men would be forced to stand to attention in the blazing sun, others being made to hold heavy rocks above their heads while the Jap guards held bayoneted rifles under their arms. Dennis plainly recalled seeing one young lad hanging from a tree branch six or seven feet from the ground and a grinning Jap torturer holding his bayoneted rifle between his legs. The sadistic guard had the lad making bird calls or chicken and rooster noises. *A Lieutenant Scott, an ancestor of the Scott of the Antarctic fame, was in the Tanjong Priok camp when he was told to sign a “No escape” declaration. He refused and Major Cutbush told him it would not go on his record as they were to sign under duress. Lt Scott still refused as he did not want to bring shame on the family name. Within minutes of his last refusal, a party of Japs dragged him out of the camp and down a dusty track. Tieing his hands behind his back, the Japs selected a particular tree and tied him to it. They then hit the tree with their rifle butts and stood back as a swarm of red ants angrily left their nest and covered the unfortunate officer. He was left in that position for three or four days covered in his own excrement. Dennis never knew if he survived as he was still tied to the tree when he left the camp

* Lt Scott of the 79/21st LAA RA is on the Roll of Honour of the Java Index on Ron Taylor’s Rising Sun web page. Could this be the same man?

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Sam Barker recalled a conversation with another prisoner, John (?), over the cruel treatment from one of the Jap guards. “He’s mine,” said John. “Oh no he ‘aint. He’s mine. I’m going to strangle him with my bare hands when this is over,” threatened Sam “We’ll see then,” mumbled John, “We’ll see who gets there first.” Later on in the year, they noticed the guard missing. John later saw Sam and pointed out the guard nearby. “There he is.” “No, that’s not him. I’ve just been told that he died,” said Sam “Then I’ll find his grave,” growled John feeling cheated. They walked over to the Japanese cemetery area and found the grave. They reckoned it was this one as it was the only one with freshly turned earth, unlike the prisoners’ cemeteries where at least two graves a day were dug. John fell to his knees and clawed at the earth on the grave cursing. “You bastard…..you bastard,” he cried feeling cheated at losing his promise to kill. Shocked at thinking he was trying to dig him up, Sam pulled him to his feet before they were spotted by other guards. The two men started to walk away when John suddenly turned and stood over the grave. Looking around and seeing no Japs were in the area, he urinated over the grave. “That’s better,” he smiled, even knowing that if he had been spotted he would have taken a very severe beating……or worse. The two men walked back to their hut, Sam still feeling cheated out of his promise too. Just before he was liberated from the camp, Sam was put on a ‘stinga mati’ party to work. This was Japanese for half dead. Among other complaints he had leg ulcers and very bad ones on his feet. He had seen men with ulcers open down to the bone. While in Batu Lintang, Dennis did not witness beatings every day, but heard of them daily from other men. Towards the end his worst condition was being slowly starved and worked to a standstill. The intense heat and humidity made the unfortunate captive slaves collapse. When they did, the guards would kick them, drag them to their feet and slap them, forcing them to carry on. Of course, many times the poor souls would simply lay there and die, their ordeal finally over. Every morning a body was taken from the hut and buried in one of the many cemeteries around the camp. Dennis was to tell me that sometimes he would be talking to a fellow prisoner as he lay resting, and then find out that he was dead seconds later after his tortured mind and body could take no more. Both Sam and Dennis were to tell me that there wasn’t a certain type that would perish. Bigger stronger men would succumb. Once the spirit had died, so did the man. Dennis and Vernon stepped forward one day when volunteers were asked for by the Jap guards. Sixty men were needed for some assignment ‘up country’ where they were told they would be better treated and fed. As the two men neared the lines of volunteers, they where sent back to their hut as the numbers were now made up. The men marched out of the camp and were never heard of again.

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An unusual request came from a Jap guard one day whilst Dennis was at his workbench. The guard handed him a length of rubber tree timber about five foot long and six inch thick. Through sign language, pointing to his rifle and the odd English word from the Jap and odd Japanese word from Dennis, plans were made to make a wooden rifle to be used for army drill. Deft strokes of a machete soon had the timber resembling a rifle. With further cutting and shaping the task was completed. And as Dennis was to tell me in 2006, “I must say I made a bloody good job of it too.” The guard must have thought so too walking away smiling with his new piece of equipment. But he was back again a few days later, shouting and glaring and waving the wooden rifle in Dennis’ face. Quickly taking it from the Jap before he wrapped it around his neck, Dennis inspected his work. The wooden ‘barrel’ of the rifle had warped and veered over to one side at a sharp angle. The Jap started again to ball out Dennis and once more started waving his arms about. Fearing a beating, Dennis quickly explained, again through sign language, that the wood had been out in the rain and left in the hot sun. The quick drying had caused the timber to warp drastically into the comical shape it was now in. The Jap calmed down as he began to understand Dennis explanation, then to Dennis’ relief, he left. What I was surprised to hear from a few ex Jap POW’s, was that their own Red Cap Military Police still treated them like dirt. Even the Japs laughed at their treatment to their own men. Dennis was instructed by them to build a bamboo cage for them to house their prisoners. This was installed at the end of the hut were the Red Caps always had their space away from the ranks. These Red Caps, Dennis noted, were never on work parties and only used as guards. This of course pleased the commander as it left some of his soldiers free for more important war work. Even Dennis was taken to his C.O. for some insignificant reason and was given seven days confined to barracks. This worked out well for Dennis as he had to do easier work inside the wire. Outside the wire perimeter, he had been pushing stripped abandoned heavy trucks and equipment around the yards. In camp he was taking water to the camp ‘hospital’ hut, escorted by George Pringle one of the military policemen at the end of his hut. Dennis personally did not witness any of the prisoners being struck by the MP’s but heard stories from others that they had. A scuffle was heard at the end of their hut when the MP’s were with a young lad behind the screen. Shouts of, “Leave him alone” were bellowed from the prisoners. A sergeant came from behind the screen and threatened them to be quiet or he would ‘have them all’. This only inflamed the men and a reply of, “Come on then” was issued. The sergeant quickly retreated behind the screen. After the war when a few POW’s were writing their memoirs, an ex Red Cap MP who lived near Dennis sent him a copy. He wanted him to sign the work as a true testament to what had happened to them. Dennis showed the “work” to Vern and a couple of other ex p.o.w friends and then they went to knock on the door of the author of such rubbish. Reading the exploits of this man made him out to be a ‘John Wayne’ type character. Of which he was certainly not. Getting no reply to their door knocking, they screwed the ‘fairytale’ up and shoved it, unsigned, though the letter box. Dennis heard nothing more from the author.

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Back in the camp, Capt Kettlewell was putting together a group of men that were to be called ‘the engineers’. Dennis’ cousin Vern was amongst the first 3 or 4 to be selected, and when the Capt asked them if they knew people suitable for the tasks involved, he put forward Dennis’ name. The group, now numbering about eight men, worked in a hut near the perimeter fence at workbenches they had to build themselves from timber purloined from around the camp. Various tools such as saws, chisels, hammers and suchlike that had been salvaged from abandoned homes when they had trekked through Sumatra were now put to good use. A naval artificer named Witter took command of the team consisting of Dennis Riley, Vern Richmond, Len Beckett, ‘Spider’ Webb, ‘Matty’ White and others whose names have sadly been forgotten over the passing of 60 years. They began by making tubs for the cookhouse and scoops for the rice from tins and wooden floorboards. Other items were made for other internees around the camp, from toys for the children with their mothers in another part of the camp, to crosses for the graves of the unfortunate prisoners. These poor souls were either to die from starvation, tropical diseases, beatings and torture, or like many others, “due to arduous conditions of captivity” as stated on my dads’ death certificate. In other words, STARVED, BEATEN AND WORKED TO DEATH. Or to be more precise and using even less words…MURDERED.

A Few Moments of Humour

utside their hut No10, the prisoners endeavoured to try and grow some vegetables to supplement their ration of one cup, (two if they were lucky) of rice per day. Often the

plants would be uprooted before they had fully grown by other prisoners (and guards), such was the desperation for food. The ‘gardens’ were small plots along the length of the hut, the end garden being the property of their own hated Redcap MP’s.

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As often was the case, Dennis could not sleep and in the darkness made his way to the door at the rear of the hut. He decided then and there that he was going to rob the MP’s garden. Slowly creeping along the wooden sides of the hut and straining to listen for the guards footsteps, he turned the corner at the end of the hut. Silently waiting and listening, he could feel excitement rising as all was deathly still and quiet. Even the insects in the bush were silent. Turning the corner to the front of the hut he was now at the MP’s plot. Crouching down he felt for the vegetables foliage sticking out of the ground. He knew he was gripping the leaves of tapioca plant, similar to a carrot, and tried to pull it out of the ground. It refused to move an inch. He squinted into the darkness and listened. There was still no sign or footsteps of the guard. Raising himself up he straddled the plant then bent down and gripped it with both hands. With a final tug at the well anchored plant he strained to straighten up. What followed startled Dennis, making him nearly jump out of his skin. The eerie silence was broken by LOUD, uncontrollable thunderclap fart as Dennis let rip. He thought that everyone in camp would have heard it. Shaking with fright he released his grip on the obstinate plant and turned and ran back to his sleeping area in the hut. Eventually he did fall asleep. Another time back in the Tanjong Priok camp, he was out on a working party when the signal was given by the lone guard, to rest. A lorry rolled up and they were issued their stew like supply of rice, sweet potato leaf and water. The guard pointed to an area for them to sit as he unslung his rifle from his shoulder. The guard sat near the prisoners and lit a cigarette while they ate. The prisoners started to talk amongst themselves, cursing the Japs from a pig to a dog and their parents’ credulity to wedlock. The Jap guard calmly smoked his cigarette as the men waited for the slap from him, but it never came. He continued staring into space while he puffed at the cigarette. The men now knew that he could not understand them and breathed a sigh of relief. Their berating of the Japanese race continued in slightly more louder tones with the occasional chuckle. After about ten minutes, the Jap got back to his feet and slung his rifle sling over his shoulder. Turning to the prisoners he said, in perfect ENGLISH, “Right then, Gentlemen. I think its time we started work again. Line up please” Dennis said that there was a stunned silence from the men. They couldn’t believe it. They quietly started to line up. The guard started to smile, and as he was next to Dennis told him that he understood and sympathised with them, but he could do nothing and had to follow orders. He said he would not report them. Dennis commented on his good command of the English language even though spoken with the Japanese ‘twang’. The guard asked Dennis were he was from in England. “Nottingham,” he replied. “Ah, Nottingham,” he said smiling, “The ‘Trip to Jerusalem,’ ‘Salutation’ and Nottingham Castle. I know them well.” “How?” Dennis asked at hearing of the names of the two pubs next to the Nottingham landmark. “I went to the University there. And I married a girl from Derby. I was recalled by the Japanese Imperial Army,” the guard replied before walking away. The guard must have been moved on from the camp as Dennis never saw him again. 41

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Opposite Dennis’ hut was my Dads’ hut, No.11. Here was a very unpopular *Sgt Dawes, who was an unsociable character and often upset a lot of the captives in some way. One particular day he had upset someone just one time to many. Dennis was told the story after seeing and hearing the commotion coming from the hut. All the hut walls were made from planks of wood but many were missing. These planks were taken by the woodworkers and fashioned into something useful to use in the camp. The gaps in the walls provided welcome ventilation on humid nights for the men as they slept on the floor, their heads next to the hole just above them. On this night of the commotion, a couple of these grieved lads had gone across to a makeshift latrine near the hut. The latrine consisted of a disused oil drum with the top cut off and a wooden shelf with a hole cut into it placed across the open end of the drum. The two lads had managed to carry the half full stinking container of human excrement silently across to the wall of hut No.11. Selecting a particular part of the wooden wall that had planks missing, they lifted the drum and poured the vile stinking contents through the hole. Immediately a yell went out and the two lads ran off. Dennis was told by a lad in the hut that Sgt Dawes had been laying on the floor when the contents of the latrine came pouring through the hole in the wall, completely covering his head. He had jumped up choking and spluttering only to slip and fall in the excrement of dozens of prisoners. Now long overdue at long last, the Sgt had indeed been shit upon by the lower ranks. He never found out who the culprits were. As my dad was in this hut, I hope he was one of them.

* Dennis told me that after he had returned home he had received letters from Sgt Dawes’ parents, asking if he had still been as vile a man in camp as he had been at home. Even his parents found him unpopular.

Col.King was the camp doctor and Dennis, having a bad case of ring worm and sweat rash between his legs, went to see him. As their captors refused to issue drugs and medicine, treatment if given often sounded harsh. Col.King’s standard reply was, “Stick it in the sun.” This order was frequently given to patients no matter what the ailment. Tropical ulcers were known to have been treated using maggots (and even fish when standing in the river) to eat the dead flesh and pus in and around the sore. Vern Richmond was known to have pulled teeth from desperate toothache sufferers, with a pair of pliers. The prisoners must have thought it was Christmas when one day a shipment of bananas was delivered. This would supplement there rice ration and definitely be an improvement on the ‘cancom,’ a ground covering plant that they ate the stem of. The cancom was grown by the pow’s wherever they could. One enterprising prisoner, a tall Scot by the name of ‘Big Jock’ (what else?), was watching a work party emptying the latrine drums further down the track away from camp. As they passed his ‘garden’, he instructed them to empty the contents into a ditch he had dug. He then dug the fertilizer in the poor soil and planted his cuttings. When the plant took hold and spread, it was rumoured to be the best tasting plant of all that was collected, shared or stolen by the other prisoners. At Christmas Ron Killick and the other cooks would try and turn out something different and try to fry rice to make cakes and they tried to share the food fairly. Fights would break out if one man seemed to have more than his neighbour.

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Some one in the cookhouse had made a guitar like instrument complete with strings, but didn’t know how to tune it or even play it. Les Towle from Linby, just outside Nottingham, worked in the cookhouse and he knew that Dennis could play a banjo and passed the instrument to him. After it was tuned, Dennis was to get up and play George Formby songs on the nights they had a concert. These were put on every three or four weeks. A comedian by the name of Tubby Levi of the R.A.F. would also entertain the grateful audience.

*Viv Orchard would often sneak out through the wire at night to try and scrounge anything edible. He came back one night in 1945 with a few sweet potatoes. As American Lockheed Lightening ‘planes were often seen overhead, open fires were banned unless permission to build one had been obtained. Someone sought permission on the pretext of having to wash ‘clothing’ and surprisingly, was given. Now all that was needed was a cooking utensil and someone ran to the ‘cookhouse’. The cookhouse in name only, was a brick fire trough and cleaned out oil drums for saucepans. At the cookhouse they were told no clean drums were spare but they could have the one waiting to be cleaned. This was taken and put on bricks over the now burning fire. Water was added to the oil and grease caked drum and the sweet potatoes dropped in. When the Jap guard was spotted heading towards them, old remnants of clothing was quickly added to the boiling water. A stick was used to submerge the rags beneath the scum of oil and grease bubbling on the surface. The Jap looked into the steaming lumpy mass and grimaced before striding off. After the scum was scooped away and time given for the potatoes to cook, they were quickly shared between the men and devoured. Dennis remembered the meal as being the best meal he had tasted even though they still needed more time in the pot.

Freddie Harris, an Oxfordshire lad, made Dennis’ stomach turn when, after butchering a yak, proceeded to drink its blood. In fact this, when mixed and boiled with whatever other meagre rations they had, would provide them with the protein their bodies desperately craved for. Freddie certainly knew this.

Sometimes a film show was put on by the Japs. The screen was erected and the Japs would sit on one side of it and the prisoners on the other. They would often show propaganda films of their tanks blazing across the screen, but the prisoners weren’t so stupid as to recognise, even though the picture was reversed, that the tanks were in fact only ONE tank, filmed in different locations. The reversed same number on the tank side gave it away.

*After all his daring and suffering in the camp, Viv Orchard, on his return to Noel St, New Basford, Nottingham, would sadly take his own life.

Like many of the prisoners, Dennis and Vern never gave up hope of the Allies winning the war. They made plans to work together when they returned home. Vern drew plans of a boat they would build and Dennis still has this drawing today. Dennis remembered drawing a picture of his Norton motor bike down to the finest detail. He was very proud of this drawing but eventually it was torn into strips to make cigarettes. He regretted it ever since. Other drawings he did on fiercely defended paper were lost when he was taken unconscious to hospital and never returned to camp. He cannot remember how the drawing of the boat came to be in his possession. Vern may have left it with him after the war.

The boat drawing by Vern Richmond

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Vernon Richmond and wife Molly 1941

Vern died on August 9th 1986

ern Richmond, at Batu Lintang camp, was approached by a Jap carpenter who stood watching him work at his bench. Speaking English, the Jap told him to come and work

in his carpenters hut and from that day on, Vern never went out of the camp on a working party again. The friendly Jap took him under his wing and gave him an easier time in camp than most of the other inmates. Vern had indeed landed a ‘cushy’ job and was one of the few lucky ones to return home in better health than most of the others.

V

In later years well after wars end, this friendly Jap had tried to get in touch with Vern by letter. Unfortunately Vern had since passed away.

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The Radio

es Becket was the brains behind the making of the illicit radio, which was to be known by the code word ‘Ice Cream’. This was hidden in different locations as the Japs had an

idea that there may be a radio in camp, but they could never find it. If they did, an execution was most certainly to follow. Dennis’ involvement was in making the tools to make various parts.

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One of the prisoners was a brick maker back home and with the clay in camp, he made bricks using a wooden mould. Mixed with straw and grass, they were tipped out and baked in the blazing sun. Now hardened off, they were used to make improvements to the cookhouse. A short tunnel was made under the fire with them and the surrounding ground strewn with ashes. This was to be the safest hiding place for the radio until liberation.

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A Glimmer of Hope

1945

Batu Lintang camp prisoners hopes were one day lifted as they looked skyward, looking for the aircraft with the different sounding engines they were used to from the Jap planes. Screaming low across the sky above them was an American Lockheed Lightening, with the star painted on its wings. The aircraft turned and circled a few times, most probably taking photographs of the area. The Jap guards ushered the prisoners back to their huts at bayonet point. Spirits raised, the prisoners wondered the same question. How much longer? Another day a roar of engines was heard and an American B52 bomber flew over at roof top height over the camp. Dennis remembers vividly seeing the tail gunner smiling and waving to them as he gave a salvo of automatic cannon fire from his guns. He gave the thumbs up sign and fired again as though giving a display. Spirits were now raised to bursting point, but once again the Japs herded them back to their huts.

Just two of the cemeteries around the camp

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The camp “hospital.”

ennis too, was now critically ill, suffering with ulcers, dysentery, malaria, dengue fever, pellagra and berri-berri. He was taken to a simple dilapidated bamboo framed hut with a

thatched (attap) roof that was a hospital in name only. D

The camp morgue Here he would linger for about four weeks before being transferred to another hut nicknamed “the morgue”. This would be the last stop for the unfortunate patients before being taken to the cemetery. He knew he was going to die as he had spent three weeks on his bed and could not now eat even the meagre offerings. But he stubbornly clung on to his wretched life.

He would be dead within twenty-four hours unless a miracle happened.

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LIBERATION SEPTEMBER 1945

hat miracle came in the shape of a burly Australian Sergeant Major. He was among the first of the Australian forces to enter the camp and evacuate the seriously ill prisoners.

Bending over Dennis, he picked him up in his arms and carried him out to a waiting truck lined with mattresses. Dennis heard his saviour curse the Japs, “We’ll make sure the bastards pay for this.”

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Then he laid him gently onto a mattress on the truck. The last thing Dennis heard before he fell unconscious, was fellow prisoner Viv Orchard shouting after the departing vehicle, “Cheerio Den, and good luck.”

A P.O.W. awaiting transport to hospital.

Australian forces transporting the sick to hospital in Kuching.

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In Safe Hands at Last

Below are ph f the POW’s

otographs to illustrate the sad plight o

Gnr Milburne LAA RA. receiving treatment

Sgt Hickson Royal Signal Corps

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ennis awoke twenty-four hours later, in a bed, with Australian nursing staff looking at . He was in the Kuching Civil Hospit and the doctors told him he had been 24

s

himhours away from death.. He had undergone blood transfusions and spent the next eight weekin this hospital with Aussie medic, Harold Crowther looking after him. They kept in touchwith each other until Harold died in 2003.

al

(British) Capt Anderson treated by (Aust) Major Hutson

Patients at Kuching Hospital

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Hospital Ship ‘WANGANELLA’

(Above) Fast Motor Torpedo Boats (MTB’s) and Sub Chasers ferry the sick to the

hospital ship ‘Wanganella.’(below)

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The Wanganella in original livery

and Vern were eventually ferried by an MTB to a hospital ship anchored out in the

ome cheese and even managed to get a Spanish onion. This was what he had

ed his medical

e shipped back to England via stops at Madras and Bombay.

ambay and then taken to Labuan field hospital (tents) on the beach. Here they was issued

with two bottles of beer a day, and as Sam wasn’t a beer drinker he traded them with the Australians. He acquired s

S

waited nearly four years for. A simple, cheese and onion sandwich. Delicious. He was lucky to get through his physical ailments quite quickly and passexaminations. But he was to fail his mental state of mind and would suffer years of cruel nightmares and depression. From Labuan they werEven today (2006) Sam told me that he didn’t want to answer too many questions about theJap treatment of prisoners in camp, as it would start the nightmares of Japs chasing him again.

The ‘Wanganella’, now converted to a hospital ship

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TO LABUAN

airstrip that they had worked on previous, was later to be used by Dakotas for

ennis was transferred there from this airstrip with six nuns from the camp

hetransporting patients to Labuan, an island just off the coast of Borneo further

north. D

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LABUAN FIELD HOSPITAL

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SIGMOIDOSCOPY

Labuan field hospital on the beach

abuan, the sick would be treated at the nd/12th Australian Hospital Unit, under canvas

Sam Barker was to tell me of his introduction to the treatment he received at the

t Lon the beach. It was here that Dennis first heard of, and then received, the treatment

‘SIGMOIDOSCOPY’.

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Queen Elizabeth Hospital at Roehampton, in England. The treatment was a method to explore the lower part of the intestines by way of inserting a narrow tube with a light attached, into the rectum whilst the patient knelt on a table. The doctor then looked into the tube to inspect the patients’ innards. The treatment wasn’t painful, just uncomfortable as before insertion of the tube, air was pumped into the rectum. The doctor told Sam that many of the patients fainted before climbing onto the table. He asked him to try to allay their fears. The comical side effect of this treatment was demonstrated when a group of civilian dignitaries, men and women, were being given a tour of the wards by the matron. A patient had just left the treatment room and was walking back to his bed at the end of the ward. Each step was followed by a loud breaking of wind and he farted continually as he passed the blushing women of the group. “Sigmoid oscapade?” asked the matron. “Yes ma’am,” replied the patient. “Carry on then,” she said and explained the patients plight to her visitors

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‘RAJULA’ October 1945

here sometime later, he was transferred by DUKW to the hospital ship “RAJULA”

few days later he was shipped with others to Madras in S.E. India. Here, Dennis s

he ship on a stretcher by natives and other natives threw

into the carriage. Seeing the two

two

is proved to be a bad move on their part as the NCO proceeded to bawl them out,

ent

romlying at anchor in the bay. This ship would take the patients to Singapore where he would

spend a few days receiving more care and treatment.

F Anever forgot the welcome they all received as all the ships in the harbour sounded their sirenand horns welcoming them. He was carried from tcigarettes, sweets and chocolates to him. He was taken to an awaiting train and laid on the seat in a carriage with another patient. As the carriage filled up with more troops, Dennis feared being crushed as he lay helpless on the stretcher. A Sgt Major came to his rescue when he looked stretcher cases, he bellowed orders to four of the soldiers and had them taken off the train.They had been put in the wrong compartment. They then followed the NCO along the platform to another carriage where they were ordered to place them inside. Inside wereofficers, who, after seeing another stretcher case placed in their compartment, complained tothe NCO. Thembarrassing them as he told them who the stretcher cases were, where they had been, and what they had suffered for the last three and a half years. The officers quietly moved to another compartment. Dennis and ‘Taffy’ Hughes from Anglesey then had the compartmto themselves till they arrived at the station at Jalahali. Here they were put in an ambulance and taken to a temporary hospital town on the outskirts of Bangalore. This was a complex oftemporary building for the anticipated treatment of wounded forces.

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Hospital Town at Bangalore

id many of the Beri-Beri victims, Dennis did not now posses the skeletal look of g’

a in 1946. moved

hat he really missed.

s and then returned with two slices of hot buttered d

he had any relatives in the army. He

HAPPY BIRTHDAY NOVEMBER 1945

s dother p.o.w’s. Effects of the disease cause the body to retain water and he was ‘lookin

a lot fitand wa

A ter than of weeks before. Note that I write ‘looking‘, but physically he was still very ill s suffering badly. His treatment here, among others, was a shot of penicillin every four

hours, for twenty four hours. He was still not allowed solid food. The photo above was taken just before he left the hospital in Poon It was now November and the wards were nearly empty as the patients wereout and sent home. Ex prisoners of war were treated like royalty and the staff attended to all their needs. Nothing was too much trouble for them. One of the patients in the ward asked Dennis w“A slice of buttered toast,” he replied. The patient disappeared for five minutetoast. No words could possibly describe what Dennis must have been feeling as he savoureevery bite and mouthful. After years of starvation, a simple slice of toast was ambrosia to him. Every mouthful brought back memories of home. A Red Cross nurse named Josie asked Dennis iftold her about Vern, then he remembered his brother in law, Bill Spackman, was somewhere out this way. She went away and made some enquiries and within days, Dennis had his first visitor. His brother in law, Bill... She had arranged for a two week leave for him if he visited and wheeled Dennis around in his wheelchair outside the building.

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Eventually, Dennis was the only ex p.o.w patient left in the hospital ward and it was now his birthday. A nurse came to his bedside and told him they had a surprise for him as it was his birthday. Placing him in his wheelchair, she pushed him along corridors and into a large room where all the doctors, nurses and other staff were waiting for a film projector to start. Dennis was wheeled between the groups of staff and positioned so he could see the screen. The lights went out and the projector started up, the flickering images on the screen showing a newsreel and a piece about NOTTINGHAM. After about five minutes the film ended and the lights went up. The nurse turned his wheelchair around and to Dennis’ surprise, all the white coated staff were standing beside a table. They sang “Happy Birthday” to him as the nurse wheeled him to the table where an iced cake had been made especially for him. Written in icing across the cake were the words, “DON’T FENCE ME IN.” Needless to say, Dennis shed a few tears.

POONA

Dennis (front left) with Antoni (white trousers) and other patients at Poona

oona No.3, I.BG.H. (Indian British General Hospital) would be the next stop where he w

alloweP ould spend Christmas. He was now classed as ‘walking wounded’, and was only

d out into the town for a few hours each day. It was on one of these exercise days whilst walking down Commercial St market area that he got talking to a friendly market trader. The trader offered to send a food parcel back to his mother in England and he would personally post it. This was agreed and £40 was charged for this huge parcel. Dennis knew his mother would love it. Antoni, an Italian prisoner of war at the hospital presented him with a cigarette case as a memento. He had made it from an aluminium army mess tin and engraved it with delicate curling leaves on one side and a Maltese cross on the other. Dennis treasured this gift and still possesses it today. Antoni stayed in India.

Engraved cigarette case

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During his stay here, he was surprised to have a few visitors to his bedside. Moving from bed to bed around the ward were Singhalese women and Dennis watched them, waiting for them to stop at his bed. What a friendly, caring group of ladies they were he thought as they neared his bed. As he propped himself up on his pillow, the first of the smiling women sat beside him. After asking of his health, she quickly turned the conversation to Dennis’ occupation back home. He told her of his work at the Ericsons sawmill and suddenly, she arose from the bedside, and bid him good luck and moved to the next patient. This was to happen a couple of times with each visit from the ladies and when they had left the ward a nurse came in and informed the lads who the women were. It appeared that the women were given permission to visit patients, but their underlying motive was to secure a husband for their daughters. They were all looking for a man with a good profession such as lawyer, doctor or businessmen with their own business. It seemed that they were out of luck in Dennis’ ward. Sometimes the patients would take their plated meals out into the garden area to eat. It was hear that he remembered they would come under attack from the Shitehawk birds as they dived to the plates to scavenge what they could. Often, if quick enough, they would swoop in and relieve the patient of his slice of meat from his plate. Dennis was eye witness to another type of Shitehawk too while in this hospital. Typical of Army bullshit on hospital inspection day, the bed bound patients were to “lay at attention” when an officer made the rounds. ALL toilet doors were open ajar at a certain measurement taken with tape measure and flowers placed in the bowl. Patients were not allowed to use the toilets at inspection time????? It was now late 1946 and at this hospital Dennis met ‘Jock’ Walsh from Crieff, Scotland, and they were both diagnosed with having T.B. They were both taken by ambulance to a ship bound for South Africa where they were to spend time at a sanatorium. As the ship was about to sail, Dennis was hurriedly taken off again and returned to the hospital. The doctors had given second thought to their diagnosis. The symptoms were similar to TB, but it was proved he had not got T.B. A few weeks later, he was taken from the hospital and put on the ship “Strathaird”, bound for Southampton, England.

At last, he was going home.

BACK IN ENGLAND

1947

‘STRATHAIRD’

t Southampton, an ambulance was waiting on the dockside for him as he disembarked. An officer came to greet him with a message from Winston Churchill, thanking him and

welcoming him back home to England. He then asked Dennis questions regarding the officers conduct while ‘out there’. When Dennis started to berate certain officers, the interviewing officer cut him dead and walked away.

A

He was put aboard the ambulance and they headed off for Queen Alexandra Hospital in Hookwood, Surrey. The journey was interrupted with a stop at a country pub for a long…. long….. too long awaited…… pint of English ale. At the hospital, Dennis was told that as he lived near Chilwell Ordinance Depot, they said he would be fit enough to travel home. (?) Bear in mind, he had not picked up anything heavier than a knife and fork since leaving the “hospital” in Batu- Lintang. He still felt weak and needed his muscle mass restoring. Dennis complained and remarked he didn’t even have a uniform. He was given a pair of khaki trousers and a kit bag. He was taken to the station and had to stand up for half the journey as the train was packed solid with returning troops. He really should have been given some sort of identification to say what his condition was. But being the proud character he was, he stood in silence and thought of home ‘till a seat became vacant. On arriving at Nottingham Midland station at 10.30pm, he was so shattered by the journey and the effort of carrying his kit bag along the platform that he had to sit down. Dragging his kit bag closer, he soon fell asleep stretched out on the platform bench. After a while a policeman came to him and asked if he was ok and after a little chat, left him to sleep till the morning. When he awoke he thought that his mother ought to be informed of his return. He phoned a neighbour and asked if they would go to the house and tell her to expect him within the next hour.

62

HOME AT LAST

March 1947

inally, at 10.30am he was home after nearly five years away, Dennis got out of the taxi and he saw his dad at the door. But the first person to run out and greet him with hugs

and kisses was Mrs Smith, his next door neighbour. F His dad just walked over to him and shook his hand. Finding he had not enough money to pay his taxi fare, he asked his dad for some cash. He shook his head and turned away saying he didn’t have any as he went back into the house. Mrs Smith came to the rescue and paid the taxi driver. “Welcome home Dennis,” she said. Walking into the house he hugged his now ill mother, who, in Dennis’ words, greeted him ‘in her own way’. It appeared she was having some kind of depression or mental disorder. Then he looked at his dad at the kitchen table, counting his money! In his bedroom he found all his dresser drawers and wardrobe empty. His dad had sold EVERYTHING he had possessed except one book. This book, “Power and Speed”, had been bought by Dennis over a period of weeks as he could not afford to buy it outright. He had bought it months before he had enlisted and it was brand new, but now it was ragged and torn due to his dad hawking it around the pubs trying to sell it. Dennis flopped down onto his bed disgusted. He had been home an hour but couldn’t say anything as he was so weak and ill.

WELCOME HOME, DENNIS !

63

“Take an Aspro….and lie down”

few days later a knocking was heard on the front door. Upon opening the door, Dennis was faced with two red capped Army Military policemen.

“DeA

nnis Riley?” the red cap asked. “Yes” replied Dennis. “You are a deserter”, said red cap. “Don’t talk stupid……I was a P.O.W.” Dennis said explained. “That’s not the information we have” said red cap No.2. Dennis told him to wait at the door while he went to fetch his kit bag with the initials RAPOWI, which stood for Released Allied Prisoner Of War Internee. Immediately, red cap No.2 ran off to cover the back door in case Dennis made a run for it. On returning to the door with the kit bag, red cap No1 inspected said bag. Mrs Smith, the next door neighbour came to her door after hearing the exchanges. She explained to the red cap about Dennis and he went away, probably disgruntled at not being able to arrest Dennis. The doctor at the last hospital had told Dennis to report to Chilwell Ordinance Depot’s medical officer if he was feeling any ill effects again at any time. After a few weeks Dennis was starting to feel really ill with abdominal pains and arrived at the gates of Chilwell Depot. Here he was challenged by the three red caps on duty. “I’ve come to see the Medical Officer”, said Dennis. “Oh no you’re not. Where’s your pay book?” sneered red cap 1. “If you want it, go and dig for it in Sumatra. I haven’t got one,” sneered Dennis back to him. Red cap No.2 now strutted onto the scene. “Oh, we’ve got a right one ‘ere. No way yer coming in ‘ere, mate. Not likely” he smirked. “Those are my instructions from the Medical Officer in hospital,” explained Dennis and telling him where he had been in the Far East. Whilst arguing at the gate an ambulance drove up to the gate and the driver handed red cap No3 a ticket. The gates were opened and the ambulance drove through. Suddenly it stopped and reversed to the gate again. The driver opened the door and shouted back to Dennis. “DENNIS RILEY,” he shouted. “AYUP CHIPPY,” Dennis shouted back recognising the soldier as his old school mate, ‘Chippy’ Hurd, from the local chip shop. “I had you down for dead and buried,” Chippy said smiling. “Do you know this man?” Red cap No. 3 barked at Chippy. “Know him? He’s lucky to be alive what he’s gone through.” “Why’s that then?” Red cap asked. “Hasn’t he told you?” “Well he told us a story. What’s yours? He told them that Dennis had been a P.O.W. of the Japs for three and a half years and had been very ill. The MP’s looked at each other and told Chippy that’s what Dennis had told them. “I’ll place him in your hands and you can take him to the M.O. You can take responsibility for him.” The gate was opened and Dennis got in the ambulance beside Chippy and they drove through the depot grounds. Pulling up at the medical centre, Dennis was helped down and led to the front of the huge queue of soldiers. Among cries of “Oi, get to the back of the queue” from the line of disgruntled men, Chippy soon shamefully quietened them with his explanation. 64

65

The doctor saw Dennis and led him into his surgery. The young twenty something year old medic listened to Dennis’ story and of his abdominal pains. Unbelievably, the doctor never examined him and passed on his professional advice and guidance. “Take a couple of Aspro’s and lie down. Rest a while. You’ve had a traumatic experience.” He then dismissed a bemused Dennis and told him to go home. Making his way home, Dennis decided to call in on his own doctor. The receptionist was just closing the door at the end of the day’s surgery and Dennis had to quickly put his foot in the door. “Let me in,” he shouted to the startled woman. Dr Sommerville heard the commotion and came to the door and saw Dennis. “Oh, it’s the young man from the Far East,” he said recognising him. He ushered Dennis into his office and sat listening in disgust of his experience with the M.O. at Chilwell Barracks. The doctor examined Dennis and stuck fingers in different areas of his abdomen until he touched a spot that made him yell out in pain. He gently prodded again with the same response. The doctor excused himself and went to fetch his colleague, Doctor Barlowe. He too examined Dennis’ abdomen with the same response. He spoke to the other doctor who then left the room, then turned to Dennis “Get yourself down to the General hospital straight away,” he said. “But I haven’t had a bath,” protested Dennis. “Never mind that. Get over there. NOW” he ordered. Dennis collected a letter for the hospital from the other doctor, thanked them and headed off. Stubbornly he went home first and had a bath before going to the General hospital. .

A Serious complaint

anding his letter in at reception, he found the hospital waiting room full. Before he had time to think, a trolley was wheeled in and he was told to follow the nurse to the

registrar’s office. Again Dennis heard the cries and complaints of “We wuz ‘ere first.” H Another medical check later and a pin at the abdomen made Dennis scream out in agony. “We are keeping you in. You are in for surgery,” he was told by the doctor. Wheeled into a room, Dennis was unceremoniously stripped of his clothes and an orderly came with shaving tackle and shaved his ‘private bits’. Dennis gritted his teeth not daring to move in case the razor slipped. He was wheeled away to ‘Hogarth Ward’ in the circular tower of the hospital where he donned a surgical gown and fell asleep. Much later he was then taken to the operating theatre and he remembered seeing the clock showing 2.30p.m He remembered the surgeon, Mr Shearne marking Dennis’ torso with ink. This made his leg begin to shake, making it difficult for the surgeon to mark correctly. The last thing Dennis heard was “Give it to him” as a mask was placed over his nose and mouth. His operation would take eight hours. When he gained consciousness again, Mr Shearne asked him if he had been abroad. When he was told he had, he said excitedly, “That’s it, then! You’ve got Chrones Disease.” When taking out the appendix that they thought was all he needed, they saw a problem with his intestine. The small intestine was infested with Hook worm. They had to cut eight inches away and replace it. For the next few days he could only eat soft liquidised foods. He was transferred to the ‘Cedars’ convalescence home where the large ward was full but a side room was made available. Sister Oxleigh was waiting to speak to him. Dennis asked, “Is it Una?” It was indeed and they knew each other from their schooldays. A lot of catching up was caught up with that evening. He was to spend many months in Cedars recuperating on the veranda on sunny days. His only visitor was his sister-in-law, Winnie. His dad never came to visit him. When he was finally sent home, he was put to bed in the attic. Dr Sommerville came to visit some time later that day and examined him. Dennis asked him if he could ride his motor cycle, to which he replied that it would be a long time before he was fit enough. The doctor told his dad that the bed was to be brought downstairs. His dad wasn’t too pleased as it was a double bed, but with Dennis’ brother, they managed to manhandle it down and into place in the front room. Winnie, his sister-in-law was collecting his mother from hospital that day too, and he looked forward to seeing her. The poor woman had been a nervous wreck before he went away, plus she was now physically abused by his dad. He had even hit her and knocked her onto Dennis’ bed when he was very ill and helpless. Dennis, understandably felt grieved at not being able to help her. They were both helpless. 66

Back to Work

1948

ennis took the offer to attend a two week ‘repatriation course’ at Peover Hall in Knutsford, Surrey. This was a centre dedicated to helping returning p.o.w’s back to a

working life once more. The outcome was that he was given leave to introduce himself back at his workplace for two weeks, on the condition that he did not do any work for the two weeks.

D

By 1948 he had settled back into full time employment once more. After a couple of years, his doctor advised him to leave the dusty environment of the saw mill for health reasons. His employers looked for a vacancy among their offices. George Prince, a manager of an office with a vacancy Dennis applied for, refused him the position due to his lack of experience. Dennis finally accepted a position as a departmental messenger. . Over a period of time he had completely organised an office system that ran efficiently, and his efforts were noticed by his superiors. Delivering mail to George Prince one day, he was called back and told to take a seat. Dennis was greatly surprised when George told him that he owed him an apology, for not setting him to work in his department when he first met him. Dennis had turned around office procedure for the better, and over the next few weeks he was promoted.

67

Frederick Riley 1947/8

s if he hadn’t suffered enough, Dennis was struck down again with a recurrence of Malaria. To make matters worse he could not be treated because of his medication for

his other problems. His girl friend, Edna, came to visit and his dad told her to stop coming if she was going to keep eating all ‘our’ food. She had not even received a cup of tea from him!

A Dennis never knew how his dad found out Edna’s address, but one day he paid a visit one Sunday to her parents. While there, her dad was putting out the Sunday roast dinner, Dennis’ dad made a remark about it making him feel hungry. Edna’s dad then offered him a place at the table if he wanted to stay. And of course he did, and the following week, and the week after that too. After his remark to Edna to stop calling, she told her dad. Then true to form, Dennis’ dad came round the following Sunday. He brazenly took off his coat and draped it over the back of a chair and sat at the table. Edna’s dad then placed a hot roast dinner on the table and shouted for their dog to come in for its dinner. Denis’ dad complained that he surely wasn’t going to feed the sumptuous meal to the DOG! Her dad said no and neither was he going to feed him. Picking up the coat on the chair he threw it out the door on to the garden, and then made a move toward the flabbergasted man. “You’re next” he shouted, and with a shove pushed him out the door. “And don’t ever come back again.” He didn’t. Dennis arrived home one day to find no one in, yet the door was unlocked. He went out into the garden and down to the garden shed where he could hear voices. Opening the door he was met with the sight of his dad and a man and woman he had never seen before. They were inspecting Dennis’ motor bike. Suddenly his dad pushed by Dennis and went back to the house without saying a word. The couple were to tell Dennis that they were here to buy the motor bike that his dad was selling. Dennis soon put them in the picture and they quickly left. After the row that followed, his dad started to charge him ‘garage’ rent for the motor bike. He certainly was a strange man. Dennis and his brothers and sisters board money was even deducted from his housekeeping share!!! It was only when a pal of Dennis’ had asked where his dad had got all the food from that he was selling at factory gates, that he discovered that the food parcel he had sent home from Poona for his mother, had been sold by him. Dennis was to discover too that his dad had a ‘fancy woman’ and would brazenly take her in the local pubs. He secretly followed them to a farm out near Oxon. Returning home he found his mother with a letter in her hand addressed to his dad and marked ‘URGENT.’ Dennis thought now was the time to confront him and taking the letter, sped off to the farm. He approached the kitchen and knocked on the door to be confronted by the farmer. Dennis explained who he was and that he had a letter for his dad. The farmer asked him in and surprised his dad who was hanging wallpaper. “Mum has sent me with this letter as it’s marked urgent,” Dennis said to his embarrassed dad. The farmer was just as puzzled. “Hang on a minute. If your wife is at home….who is that woman in the chalet I let you build?” The anger was now showing on the farmers face. Dennis bid the farmer farewell and left the house. He noticed a wooden chalet at the end of a track near some woods. His dad’s love nest, no doubt. Dennis was later to find out that the farmer demolished the chalet and his dad never went there again.

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Of Good Things to Come

Dennis Riley 1970

On January 8th 1949, Dennis married his girlfriend, Edna Their first born was a girl, Janet, who was born on 15th September 1952.

Their second, a son, Robert, was born on 19th July 1955.

At work, Dennis went from strength to strength until eventually taking a favourable redundancy settlement in 1980.

His daughter Janet was to marry George, and later present them with two grandsons,

Gary and Steven. Gary would in time present them with their first Great granddaughter, Georgia

Son Robert would marry Julia and present them with two granddaughters, Emma and

Olivia.

69

70

And a Sad Day In 1976 his mum was now so poorly she was now sleeping downstairs on the settee. It was here that she sadly died and to Dennis’ amazement, saw his dad kiss her on her forehead. Elsie Riley was cremated and her husband shed tears as he sobbed in the chapel. Dennis thought his dad was a good actor and put on a good show for the family. In 1978, Frederick Riley was to die of a heart attack and found on the rug in front of the gas fire. It looked like he was just bending over with his matches to light the fire when he expired. He had died alone.

The story that would bring us together.

1999 saw the 50th wedding anniversary of Dennis and Edna and a reporter was sent to cover the Lord Mayor visiting the couple at their home. The reporter asked Dennis if he had any

unusual stories or events that would be worthy of a few lines.

Seven years later, this book came to be written

The cuttings of the story in The Nottingham Evening Post

71

60 YEARS LATER

The Nottingham Evening Post managed to trace and bring together the two girls in “the photograph”

72

I take Dennis to the Alrewas Memorial August 2006

Dennis pays his respects

Inspecting a Bofor

73

A silent tribute to the casualties of “the railways” of Burma and Sumatra

74

Royal Artillery Memorial

In thoughts of another time

75

No words needed

76

Who are these men Who in the midst of pain

Whispered words of comfort to those They would never see again? Who’s hands held tomorrow

Who brought back our future With blood, tears and sorrow

by Jodie Johnson (age 11)

77

Jante (correct spelling) an assistant at the memorial, shows Dennis some stained glass windows and a photograph of a chapel. She was surprised when Dennis told her he had built part of it. This meeting turned out well for him as she arranged for him to collect his veterans badge before he left.

An emotional Dennis accepts his Veterans badge.

78

Prisoner Of War Creed

You have never lived, Until you have nearly died,

Those who have struggled for Liberty, Life and the pursuit of Freedom,

Have a value of life The protected will never know.

79

The irony of the title of this book is in the saying, “he leads a life of Riley” indicating a carefree life,

unlike Dennis’.

As his story has unfolded, accept this as just a chapter in

“The Life of Riley.”

I would like to end by thanking him for being a chapter in mine.

Edward (Ted) Marriott (Jnr)

September 2006

Edward Marriott, 58, Rutland Rd, Westwood, Notts, NG16 5JQ Edward.marriott2@ntlworld.com

80

“When you go home,

Tell them of us and say,

For their tomorrows

We gave our today”

John Maxwell Edmonds 1875-1958

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