Escape to Pagan (19 page)

CHAPTER 11

A Ghost Town

BURMA

“When the looters left, a shroud of suspense and silence descended on Yu. It made us feel very uneasy and we began to fear the next arrivals; would it be the Chinese Army? If the bodies we had seen in the river were the Chinese merchants and workers, reprisals would be based on an eye for an eye. Then there was the Japanese who had warned against looting. My mother knew that it was a risk to stay but we had all that we needed at Yu, a roof over our heads and clean fresh well water.”

The Chinese Army were extremely protective of the lease lend equipment and stores, even denying it to their British and American allies. Chinese soldiers were still filtering through Burma into China and India. The Japanese were by now in most of the towns and the cities, counting the spoils of their victory. The loot and equipment the enemy had acquired greatly helped them extend the war. Much of the stores captured in their conquests helped sustain their troops in the Pacific for a year. They were exhausted; they had constantly marched and fought battles across southeast Asia without respite. The victors got
drunk on their own heady hubris of success and our Johnny Walker. They had conquered vast territories across three time zones in a matter of weeks. They had outfought and outmanoeuvred the Americans, British and the Dutch. Dai Nippon now ruled Southeast Asia, the surrounding oceans, seas and the skies above. With the fighting now over, the Japanese would soon introduce their strict laws; punishment would be immediate.

“My mother feared that if we overstayed our welcome at Yu we could also become victims of Dacoits. This situation would continue until the Japanese took full control of Burma. It may come as a surprise to many that when the Japanese Army controlled Burma, criminal activity was almost eradicated. Fear of Japanese physical reprisals and immediate justice made Burmese Dacoits and criminals suspend operations. The reasons for this, Jack told me after the war, was the high regard the Japanese have for conformity, order and respect in their society. Antisocial behaviour of any kind brought dishonour to the whole family; they became pariahs. Immediate justice also applied to the behaviour of their own soldiers. The Japanese have always been a law-abiding race living in such close proximity to each other in their overpopulated islands. Harmony and honesty is paramount in their culture.

“We found out in Tada u, that once a Burmese Dacoit was caught by the Japanese, he was forced under torture by the Kempeitai to name his village and his relatives. The poor man would then be taken back there and hung from a tree by a metal hook inserted under his jaw. Two Japanese guards would be left behind to make sure he was not helped in any way by relatives or other villagers. He took days to die. His desiccated dead body would have to remain hanging in the tree as a lesson to all. How terrible it must have been for families to watch these men slowly die and not be able to help.

“I never knew what was going on in my mother's mind; I just left everything to her. I seldom knew what day of the month it was. Yu became a ghost town; my mother and I flitted from shadow to shadow of the ruined buildings and spoke in whispers. The water wells were
still sweet but low. The Burmese would never think of contaminating any well with dead bodies; contaminating one well meant ruining the whole conduit of underground water.

“To cook our meals, my mother lit fires with the driest tinder so as not make smoke. We spent much of the day watching the dusty road that entered and left Yu; we were always ready to escape into the scrub jungle behind the bungalows. My mother had found out from the looters that there was a village about two miles away that held a market. She had decided to change our identity by dressing like Burmese but this would use up all the spare money we had for emergencies. Next day after hiding our personal possessions in the scrub jungle behind the bungalows, we walked in the direction of the village and soon began following a well-worn path.

“After a long walk we reached the village and market. Some kind of celebration was going on. There were musicians and dancers. But the main attraction was the beautiful young female snake charmer; a member of a religious sect that worshipped the giant hamadryad
[king cobra].

“Every year certain young virgin females were chosen to go out into the jungle alone to capture a large hamadryad. They had to do this without harming the reptile. When they had finished a display with the snake and earned their sect money, they then had to release the snake back into the jungle, in the exact place they had found it. If the snake was harmed in any way they would lose their sacred protection and be bitten. There was no anti-venom for the bite of the hamadryad at that time.”

I do not remember this particular event, but I have seen these beautiful snake charmers at work when they were invited to Tada u, where we were finally interned. This act was a favourite with the Japanese officers and their young soldiers, many of whom had never seen a dangerous snake. First the sounds of cymbals, lutes and drums. Two men then carry out the tall basket; knocking the lid off with a stick, they quickly retire. Immediately the large head of the hamadryad would appear.
Sixteen feet of graceful snake spills out of the basket like quicksilver; its first instinct is to attack the audience only to find its path blocked by the beautiful snake charmer. She dances gracefully and soon captures the snake's sole attention while avoiding its powerful strikes. Every miss causes the hamadryad to hit the ground with its nose; the snake soon tires and becomes reluctant to strike. Picking her moment perfectly, the girl kisses the king cobra on its head.

“The village was full of small Japanese flags. My mother told me to keep my mouth shut as my Burmese was poor. She said she would tell anyone who asked that I was a little simple and didn't know the father of my child. I did not like this one bit, especially when they all stared at me. I told my mother that I had no intension of acting like a mad woman and chewing grass. ‘Just keep your mouth shut' was all she said.

“We bought two cheap Burmese longyis and white cotton blouses and a greased paper Burmese parasol. We did not have enough money for slippers. With the little money left over we bought snacks from the stall holders. You loved the sweet orange fungus that grew inside old coconuts. We were now destitute. The villagers told my mother that the Burmese National Army was responsible for this area until the Japanese took over. This area would come under the Japanese administration at Meiktila. The local BNA was still busy following up the British retreat. On the way back to Yu, we changed into Burmese dress and threw our old ragged clothes away.

“Arriving back at Yu we were both surprised and frightened to find a pack of dogs sheltering underneath one of the warehouses in front of our bungalow. As if intimidated by the emptiness, they remained silent. These canines may have been the same pack that had followed us some days before. The following day we noticed the dogs leaving silently at midday only to return a few hours later with distended stomachs. My mother was convinced these dogs were feeding on dead humans somewhere. At night they completely disappeared into the deep recesses of their shelters. Sometimes they barked at night, which
terrified us. Your grandmother said they had probably smelt a leopard. Her wisdom was soon confirmed when we wandered further afield to collect sweet tamarind pods. We noticed the half eaten carcass of a dog wedged high up in the fork of a tree. I began to feel nervous at nights; we had no doors or windows to protect us.

“One night my mother and I heard angry voices in the distance. We were terrified and could not go back to sleep. We waited until sunrise and collected all our possessions ready to escape into the scrub jungle behind the bungalows. My mother went out to investigate. She saw various types of expensive clothing scattered on the ground outside between the houses. She came in and said that there were people in one of the bungalows further down the road. ‘We must leave as soon as we can' she said in whispered tones. We all remained silent; by now you seemed to sense our fear.

“Then we heard voices again – European female voices! Peeping out of the window I saw two girls arguing and immediately recognized them as two of the De Souza girls from Rangoon. They had moved to Rangoon from Moulmein but their home was in Portuguese Marco. I used to play tennis with Maria De Souza in Maymyo (a place people went in the hot months). The De Souzas were a rich Portuguese family. I was so happy to see them but at first they did not recognize me.

“The De Souzas had left Rangoon in good time, just before the bombing began. Their father had stayed behind to wait for his brother who was up country trading. The family set off in a large convoy of vehicles. Like most rich people with plenty of servants to cater for their needs they took with them few vital necessities but concentrated instead on their valuable possessions. A few mile stones out of Rangoon they were attacked by Burmese. Their Chinese servants vanished or were killed. But these robbers were in a hurry; Rangoon was there for the taking and the Japanese had not yet arrived. Leaving the main road, the De Souzas were fired on by the BNA, one of their relatives was killed and their youngest brother wounded. He soon died and had to be buried in the jungle later; his shallow grave was unmarked and would remain unknown despite much searching after the war. The remaining family of six comprised their mother, her sister and two other female relatives had walked to Yu. Their father and uncle would catch up later
they said, with everything they would need. With Portuguese passports the De Souzas did not have reason to fear the Japanese. Portugal was neutral. It was the Burmese they feared.