Escape to Pagan (32 page)

“When we got there, I stood behind my mother; I couldn't see anything, and neither could you, thank God. Even so, I closed my eyes during each beheading. We did not know who the second man was. We were told of another beheading a few weeks later that had taken place behind the Kempeitai building, witnessed only by some Burmese men who had climbed nearby trees for a better view. The execution was carried out crudely without skill; at each failed attempt the victim's screams could be heard by the spectators. This upset them, as the man was locally known.”

“Every morning we would go out foraging to collect firewood and various wild plants that were safe to eat. There were small soft-shell crabs to be found in a swampy area; these would be fried in peanut oil with onions and garlic. In this swamp we had competition in the form of a very large monitor lizard that used to hiss at us. When it realized my mother was intent on killing it for food, it kept its distance. I was terrified of it; it could run and swim extremely quickly. Every time we went out foraging in this area, I thought about the woman who had mysteriously disappeared.

“On our way home from our foraging trip, we passed the large sports field and noticed a group of Burmese had gathered and were intently watching something in the middle of the field; they appeared ready to bolt, young legs nearest, old legs further back to ensure a good head start. As we moved closer, we saw the object of their interest to be two large male hamadryads in ritual combat. This titanic battle had been going on for some time. These were the first wild king cobras I had seen.”

I can still see in my distant mind's eye, the two massive venomous snakes with their large oval hooded heads raised high off the ground. The two king cobras were fighting for the pleasure of mating with a female; I presume she was watching the contest with amorous interest. When these aggressive snakes are fighting for a female, they become oblivious to the presence of nearby humans.

“A young junior Japanese officer happened to be passing by the field at the same time when he was called over by some pretty Burmese girls. Curiously he approached and the two fighting snakes were pointed out to him. At first he could not believe his eyes – the two snake heads were five to six feet off the ground and you had to look closely to see they were indeed snakes. The Jap officer's mouth fell open and he grimaced like a monkey. We would later get to know this officer quite well as he and his men were in charge of the pack ponies that used to be tethered under the trees outside our terrace; he reminded my mother of a startled frog.

“The watching Burmese, especially the pretty young women, encouraged the Japanese officer to kill the snakes. They conveniently neglected to inform him that there was a female hamadryad nearby. If bitten the massive amount of venom injected
[the bite of a king cobra can inject over 500cc of venom at one time which can kill an elephant]
would have rendered him unconscious before he reached the army barracks. The Jap hesitated, but Nipponese manhood was at stake. He drew his
sword and pulling a face only a Jap could pull, slowly approached the two preoccupied reptiles in true kendo fashion legs apart. As soon as he was in range, his sword flashed and two large decapitated heads fell to the ground while their bodies coiled and uncoiled like giant corkscrews. All the pretty girls clapped and commented on his bravery. The Jap stood distracted and basked in the adulation. It was only when he turned to inspect the two heads that he saw the female hamadryad approaching; head high off the ground charging down on him with great speed. Without further ado the terrified Jap bolted, dropping his sword in the process. Deprived of revenge the female hamadryad returned into the jungle. On seeing the female snake's departure, the Japanese junior officer returned grinning and with sign language, asked the watching Burmese to retrieve honourable weapon. They declined his generous offer. Slowly with an eye on where the female snake had disappeared, he picked up his sword and after skewering both heads on his blade, made for the army barracks to show his comrades. The disappointed Burmese disbanded.

“One day, I remember, you stole a ping-pong ball belonging to a Japanese soldier who chased you as you ran back home with it. You were hiding behind your grandmother still holding the ping-pong ball when the angry Japanese soldier appeared at our open door only to be confronted by my mother. The enraged soldier was surprised when my mother spoke to him in Nippon Go. When she found out what you had done she grabbed you by the arm and gave you a good beating on your naked bottom with her leather slipper watched by the smiling Japanese soldier. You were still loathe to give up the ball, so your grandmother had to wrestle it out of your hand. The watching Jap soldier then requested an extra whack on your backside for good measure. This you got. You were balling your eyes out.”

I remember this well; me and other naked Burmese children were sitting on chairs watching the Japanese soldiers play a game of ping-pong in one of the army barracks. I was fascinated by the ping-pong ball; it seemed like a magical round egg that didn't break and as soon
as it fell at my feet I picked it up and scarpered with the Jap in hot pursuit. It would be several years before I owned my own ping-pong ball that would lead to a far more frightening experience.

“Several days after you stole the ping-pong ball, you came running in the house crying. A Japanese soldier who was giving out slices of watermelon to the village children shouted at you to go away. Your grandmother got angry and went straight out to buy you a watermelon. When she came back and cut the watermelon open, you refused to eat it because the flesh wasn't as red as the Jap's melon. We could have murdered you. My mother and I ate the melon.”

I remember this incident clearly. I joined the queue for a slice of melon but an Indian boy spotted me and said something to the Japanese soldier. I was bellowed at – “Kurra!” – and legged it home crying. Perhaps the Indian boy had told the Japanese soldier that I was the notorious ping-pong ball thief?

“It was around this time that we heard rumours that the Japanese were running out of ammunition and that they were now using bamboo machine guns that made the same noise to fool the enemy. This turned out to be true.”