January 1940 to February 1942

CHAPTER III

PRISON IN MONGOLIA

I was stiff, cold and hungry. Perhaps today I should be released; after all, I had arrived late and there may well have been no more convenient place to put me. I heard the jingle of keys and approaching footsteps; surely they were coming to release me? A seedy-looking individual peered at me through the bars and passed on. Someone shouted an order, a whistle blew, people stirred; doors were opened and a stream of figures went by my cell. More warders appeared, and each as he passed looked in; some spoke, others laughed and spat at me, and a few showed no reaction at all. Within a short time, probably about ten minutes, the inmates returned. There seemed to be a good deal of shuffling about, and then the jingle of keys, and the corridor lapsed into silence.

Hours seemed to pass. Now the sun was up and one could see a small patch of blue sky through the barred window, a mere aperture about two feet by six inches let into the wall near the ceiling. The walls of the cell were concrete with wooden bars from ceiling to floor on the side facing the corridor, with a small barred door on the level of the wooden floor, which was roughly ten by twelve feet.

The silence was broken by a general rustle of movement, the occasional clink of metal; it came nearer. The small hatch let into the cell door was pushed open and a dirty-looking tin bowl was thrust in. I took it eagerly --- it was comfortingly warm as I raised it to my mouth with both hands a watery mess of beans and a few grains of rice. Twenty-four hours had gone by since I had had anything to eat or drink; I was very thirsty and could have dealt with six bowls! In my ignorance I asked for more, but the warder grinned and shook his head.

Footsteps of several people, the jingle of keys, they are coming nearer and nearer, they must be coming to release me Yes! The warder stopped at my cell and, fumbling with the lock, opened the door. I got up in anticipation, eager to get out as soon as I could. He waved me back and stepping aside, beckoned, and four large Mongols scrambled awkwardly through the opening. Well! 0……. at least I was going to have company.

They were all well-dressed, in fact overdressed for Mongols. Two of them had on black lambskin coats and suede-leather trousers tucked into high leather boots. The third wore a long fur-lined Chinese silk gown of a brilliant peacock-blue. The fourth, somewhat older, was more conservative in his dress, which consisted of the usual tanned goatskin trousers of a rather nondescript mustard-brown, lined with sheepskin ; he had no undershirt but wore a dark mulberry-red woollen jacket also lined with coarse white sheepskin, and his trousers were held up by a bright-green silken sash. He had the heavy features of the Mongol and looked, as he proved to be, completely bewildered. The other three were in their late twenties. They wore new clothes and appeared to be well-to-do, and were more than likely in the pay of either the Japanese or the Soviets. Judging by their leather boots, I put them down as Outer Mongolian Soviet agents arrested by the Japanese. They would soon be relieved of further pondering over their fate: the Japanese, intensely jealous of Sovietised Outer Mongolia, gave them little quarter.

Crossing their legs, they sat down in a close circle with their hands tucked into their sleeves, staring at one another with completely blank faces. In a little while one of them yawned, another belched, their expressionless faces relaxed slightly, and they obviously began to feel more at home; soon they were whispering to one another. It was not long before the warder put a stop to that, and once again they relapsed into silence. Soon one had fallen asleep, a second began to nod and his head dropped to his chest. 1 decided it was a good idea and stretched out on the boards.

I awoke to the sound of a key turning in the lock and the door of the cell opened. This time I was not disappointed. The warder beckoned to me to come out. I threw off the blanket and hastily got out before he could change his mind, but was sent back to get the blanket. That was encouraging: I felt confident that they would soon straighten things out and at least put me in more comfortable quarters. I followed the warder to an office where there were three or four desks round the sides of the room, at which clerks were seated, idly sipping glasses of hot tea. In the middle of the room an officer was sitting at a desk reading a newspaper. As I entered he put down the paper and nodded to me in a friendly manner. He was a wizened little man with glasses, a small sparse moustache and quite a human, kindly face. Kageyama then entered the room. I was very relieved to see him. «You sure got yourself into a jam this time! I will do all I can to help you. Now let's see what this guy has to say. He's all right, but treat him polite."

«You understand why you are here?» asked the officer, through Kageyama.

«No, I have no idea and would like an explanation."

He leaned forward in his chair, seeming annoyed, and addressed me in a most belligerent tone. «He says that you are lying. Did you not deliberately contravene the State currency laws? Do you not know that under military law this is a most serious offence and that you are here to face a court-martial on these charges? Did you not intentionally trick His Imperial Majesty's Army over the question of property? Do you know that you are under suspicion of espionage? Certainly you understand! And yet you have the impudence to ask His Imperial Majesty's Army for an explanation! Take my advice," Kageyama added, «and don't say any more."

«All right, but please tell him that I decline to make any statement on the matter until I hear from my Tientsin office." «O.K. But I'll just tell him that you hope to have an opportunity to explain your case later."

This seemed to quieten him.

«He wants to know what you think of the present political situation,” said Kageyama.

«Tell him that with the war practically over in China we are looking forward to a long era of peace and prosperity in the Far East," I replied, lying as best I could. His face relaxed and he pulled out a packet of cigarettes and offered me one. "He says Japan is indeed a peace-loving country, but it is unfortunate that the present politicians in America and England do not really understand her."

"Yes," I answered, "I have thought that myself at times, but the Chinese have a much clearer conception of Japan's mission in Asia." He grunted, and, opening a drawer, drew out some papers which he pushed across the desk to me.

"He wants you to fill up these papers. It's just your registration for the accommodation you are about to enjoy as a guest of the Emperor. Fill them up."

While I was writing the necessary particulars — age, birthplace, father's and mother's name and religion, and deciding whether I was a Catholic, Protestant, an atheist, heathen or Communist — an orderly appeared with a bundle and threw it down at my feet. Had I any peculiarities? How many birth-marks? Had I the full use of my limbs? What were my habits? Had I any illegitimate children? What was my length? I called on Kageyama for an explanation. "Oh! they probably mean your height. Anyway, you need not fill in all that nonsense. Sign here and I'll give it to him. . Now take your clothes off and get into these on the floor"

I took off my coat, jacket and trousers, sorted out the bundle and found there was a light cotton Chinese-style jacket and trousers of a dirty white, and a khaki-coloured drill coat and trousers. I proceeded to get into the underpants, when Kageyama remarked: " He says you must strip."

"But hell, I'll freeze to death in that stuff."

"Yes, maybe, but those are the regulations."

The sleeves of the jacket came half-way down my arms and the trousers about six inches below the knees. "Take off your socks too," said Kageyama.

"But there aren't any others here."

"You don't get any, or shoes. I guess this is about all for today. This guy will take you to a cell," indicating the man who had brought in the clothes. "Now you are an official prisoner, you must bow low to this officer before you leave, and take my advice, behave yourself here, otherwise you will find yourself in trouble. See you later." I turned to the desk, grudgingly bowed and left, followed by the orderly.

We entered the building in which the cells were located, where I was handed over to the warder, who apparently found my appearance very amusing. There must have been eighteen cells at least and each one was full, including the one at which we stopped. He opened the door and motioned me to get in, indicating that I was to have the position at the end of the row next to the bars. The door shut behind me, the other inmates made room and I sat down. This did not satisfy the warder, who told me to kneel facing the wall, as the others were doing. After a few moments he went away and every-one relaxed and strained their necks to have a look at the latest addition to their cell. Obviously a White Russian !

There were six of us on each side. Next to me was a Japanese, the remaining four being Chinese. On the opposite side were two Japanese in uniform, both privates, and four Chinese. With the exception of the Japanese, we were all clothed in the same way. I noticed that the others had a neat roll of cotton blankets in front of them and that the bottom one was slightly pulled out so that their knees rested on it rather than on the bare boards. Kneeling on board takes a lot of practice and it was not long before I had the most excruciating pains. I was wondering how much longer I could stand it, when there was a general stir and a Chinese appeared with a dozen bowls on a tray. The warder opened the little door and passed in the "tiffin ", a thick porridge of beans and kaoliang, a species of coarse millet. It was hot, but lacked salt, and was completely tasteless -- with the aid of chopsticks it was greedily swallowed. In less than a couple of minutes the bowls were empty and piled by the grille; there were a few belches and we settled down again for the afternoon.

By now I had reached the limit of my endurance as far as kneeling was concerned and sat with my legs drawn up to one side, ready to assume the kneeling position if the warder approached. Others were doing this too, but some appeared quite content to kneel; they were probably the older inmates. Now and again there was a whispered conversation; someone would get up to relieve himself at the small tin latrine let into the boards at the far corner on the other side. The stench was bad enough from where I sat, but, thank God, I was not next to it! A whistle was blown, whereupon everyone relaxed, turned around from the wall and sat with crossed legs facing each other. This was bearable.

Now I had a chance to look over my fellow criminals. Directly opposite were the two Japanese privates with un-intelligent and expressionless features; next to them was an old Chinese, over sixty and practically skin and bone. He coughed continuously and I put him down as a probable T.B. case. His neighbour was certainly in the right place: dark skin, chin covered with stubby hair, small shifty eyes and a nose that at one time had been broken, a thin line where his lips should have been, almost identical with the scar that ran from across his right temple and upper cheek to the side of his nose. By the latrine sat a man in his late forties, fat and sleek from good living, a recently-shaven head, and hands that had never felt the satisfaction of manual labour, most probably a merchant and a new arrival. I studied my neighbour, a good-looking but arrogant Japanese of about thirty. He took absolutely no notice of anyone and sat with his legs crossed, his hands clasped on his lap and his eyes closed. He continued in this attitude until he left us about a week or so later. I often wondered what was passing through his mind — no doubt just religious remorse. It was not until some time after he had left that I found out that the three Japanese were in for a cooler on the grounds of having dangerous thoughts — Communistic, no doubt. On his other side was a poor syphilitic-looking specimen, covered with skin sores. He might have been anything from a pimp to a dope fiend, or both. At the other end of the line sat a rather fine-looking old man, sunburnt and with ruddy cheeks, a black drooping moustache, and a few long straggling whiskers, so beloved by the Chinese, drooping sparsely from his chin. He had roughened hands and was probably a farmer-peasant. Beside him sat a younger man of the same type, not intelligent in appearance, but clean and fresh with the bright eyes of youth. What could he be in this hell-hole for? His arms were folded over his chest and he was rocking gently to and fro with his eyes closed. Occasionally the old man would murmur to him.

As it began to get dark, the lights were switched on. We sat . . . the cold was intense. Feet and hands had no feeling, although one could get some semblance of warmth into the latter by continual rubbing and putting them under one's armpits; but only the newcomers did this, the old-timers were indifferent. Another whistle blew and an order in Chinese was shouted up the corridor. " Exercise! Exercise! One, two, three, four -- one, two, three, four -- one, two . . ." Everyone jumped to his feet. Frozen as we were, this was the one opportunity we had to warm up. We jumped up and down, pummelled each other on the back, exercised our arms and legs. To this frenzied activity I noticed that there was one exception — a Japanese who took his position near the bars at the opposite corner to me and performed the most approved P.T. exercises in time with the prescribed tempo. Everyone kept an eye on him and in a short while he shouted above the din of thumping feet, " One, two, three, four ! " and immediately all in the cell ceased their gambols and per-formed in some degree of unison the exercise he happened to be doing at that moment. By then the warder had appeared and, looking with obvious satisfaction at such a well-disciplined cell, passed on and we once again got on with the all-important task of warming up. All too soon a blast on the whistle put a stop to this frivolity, and my companions commenced unrolling their blankets and preparing for bed. I had none, but fortunately the guard appeared and, when I indicated my need, he brought me three thin cotton blankets. I soon found there was a special way of folding the blankets to get the maximum warmth out of them. As I was struggling with mine one of the Japanese privates came over and made it up for me. The first blanket was spread out on the floor single, in the middle of this was placed the second blanket doubled, and in the middle of that the third blanket folded lengthwise into three thicknesses. The edges of the single blanket were then folded over, making a narrow sack, and the whole rolled up and placed against the wall pending the "tuck-yourself-in" signal.

The following morning we were awakened just after dawn by the usual blasts on a warder's whistle. Reluctantly we crawled out of our sacks, folded our blankets into a neat pile and placed them against the wall, then stood to attention on either side of the cell. A Chinese boy appeared with a rack of tooth-brushes, a dozen tin mugs and a bowl of coarse salt. In turn we each drew a tooth-brush, a mug half filled with water, and a pinch of salt. Revolted by the thought of who might have used before me the wet and well-worn brush, I took up my position in turn over the stinking latrine and performed the necessary ablutions. Salt, I found, was a very excellent dentifrice. We usually drank all but one mouthful of water, with which we rinsed our mouths of the salt. Once again the whistle blew, cells were opened and a depressing assortment of humanity began to file past. In a moment our barred aperture was opened, and we all crept out and lined up in the corridor facing the cell. At a word of command from the warder, we turned right and marched out of the building into the courtyard, in the middle of which was a double line of concrete washbasins coated with a layer of ice. In the far corner was a large concrete trough and a pile of ice-covered tin basins. Selecting one each, we dipped it into the trough, at the same time trying to avoid getting a basin full of broken ice. The morning wash consisted of doing as little washing with as much show and noise as possible. When everyone had washed to the warder's satisfaction, we were again lined up and marched to a small outhouse where fifty to sixty little towels hung, suspended on strings from one side of the room to the other. Ice had already formed on the straggling whiskers of all and it was almost impossible to wipe it off with the towel. We were again marched into the yard and lined up at attention, facing towards the East and the Imperial Palace in Tokyo. Our warder took up his position two or three paces to one side, and at the word of command we all made a deep and reverent bow towards His Imperial Majesty.

On returning to the corridor, I noticed that everyone started to undress. Outer shirts, pants and underpants were stripped off and thrown in a pile on the floor. An inspection party, consisting of the prison doctor accompanied by a couple of guards, was working its «ay up from the other end of the corridor. The first of our group stepped forward and opened his mouth wide, into which the doctor peered, and then turned each ear to the doctor for inspection. The patient then lifted his shirt, exposing his private parts, and, making a right-about-turn, bowed to the wall and at the same time lifted his shirt-tails, to reveal his bottom to the critical glance of the medico. The speed with which this was done down the line gave the effect of a rather bizarre can-can chorus. The medical inspection completed, the guard picked up the discarded clothes from the floor and threw them through the door of the cell, into which we quickly scrambled. The cell in which we had left our orderly piles of blankets was now in confusion. The blankets were in a confused heap in the middle of the floor, on top of which had been flung our jackets, pants and underpants. The door was locked and we were left to sort out our clothes and refold our blankets. It was impossible to decide which were one's own particular garments, and it was merely a matter of grabbing the nearest.

A shaft of sunshine revealed an atmosphere thick with dust from the blankets as they were shaken and folded into shape. By the time our morning soup arrived, the coughing caused by the dust had subsided, and we were all kneeling facing the wall.

There was nothing to relieve the monotony. Occasion-ally one would hear a door opened and a number called. At noon bowls of gruel were passed through the square hole in the door. The whistle blew and we relaxed and sat on the floor with our legs crossed, facing the row on the other side of the cell. Occasionally there would be a whispered word or two, a belch or worse, or someone would get up to relieve himself at the foul latrine. This was a small galvanised tray about six inches deep, a foot wide and a foot and a half long, with a couple of handles at either end, and we took turns in emptying it twice a day, morning and evening. By the end of the day it was practically overflowing and to lift it out of the hole in the boards and negotiate the cell door without spilling any on the floor was no easy matter. It was emptied into a small chute let into the far side of the yard wall. It seldom emptied clean. Anything left had to be removed with the fingers, which one cleaned by wiping them on nearby walls on the way back to the cell. There was no water available.

Day after day passed, empty days that barely registered the passage of time : the morning wash, inspection, the fight for one's blankets and clothes, soup intervals, P.T. occasion-ally in the mornings and afternoons. If the guard felt so inclined, we were taken into the yard for about fifteen minutes' exercise. The yard was about twenty-five by ten yards and was surrounded by a wall at least twelve feet high, topped by an electrified wire fence and network of wire overhead. The ground was rough and hard for bare feet, but it did at least help to warm us for half an hour. Occasionally during the day someone would particularly irritate the guard and one would hear a stream of abuse in a mixture of Chinese and Japanese, a jingle of keys and the dull thud of a wooden club on flesh howls for mercy, cries of pain and then silence.

The greater part of the afternoon was usually spent in de-lousing. Turning one's undershirt inside out, one carefully went over all the seams where the majority of the lice and their eggs were to be found. Occasionally one would come across a fat old louse, far from home, but the majority spent the daylight hours with their heads dug into the seams. They were easy to squash between the thumb-nails, but the eggs were small and difficult to see, and one got little satisfaction from them. In spite of daily attacks on these pests, it was quite impossible to eliminate them. However diligently the search went on during the day, at night-time, with the warmth circulating from the blankets and the proximity of other bodies, they came out from hiding in their hundreds, and one's whole body seemed to be crawling. In the beginning there was the continual desire to scratch; sleep was impossible; but as the days passed, reaction became dulled; they were still there but one did not mind so much. If it was convenient, a search would be made. If not, what did it matter?

Ten days passed and I had had no news from the outside. What was the office doing about me? What were the Consular people doing? Surely somebody would be trying to get me out? About two days later the warder opened the cell and, looking at me, shouted "Number 98" in Chinese. This was the first indication that I had of my number. It did not take long to realise what was expected of me and I quickly crawled out of the door. A guard led me to another building and, knocking at a door, pushed me into a small office thick with cigarette smoke. It smelt of that peculiar straw-and-pickle odour, which pervades the atmosphere wherever there are Japanese soldiers, but it was warm — the belly of the small iron stove was red-hot. The same sergeant who had interviewed me the day after my arrival was sitting behind the desk and in an arm-chair next to the stove was Lieutenant Nakamura and standing behind him, Kageyama.

The desk was strewn with newspapers and as I came in, Nakamura, looking very excited, put aside the paper he had been reading and started immediately to talk. He paced up and down the office and, grabbing a paper from the desk, pointed to the headlines. He laughed, pounded the table, shouted and gesticulated; tears began to trickle down his cheeks. Clutching the newspaper in his hand, he strode over to a map of the Far East hanging on the wall, and pointed to Honolulu, Hong Kong and Singapore. Working himself into a state of hysteria, he collapsed, both laughing and crying, into his chair. My expression must have been particularly blank, as he waved at Kageyama, indicating that he should translate this hysterical tirade. I realised that something of extreme importance had happened, probably war. Kageyama put his hand in his pocket, produced a cigarette-case and offered it to the Lieutenant, who took one and indicated that I should do the same.

"Well, how are you getting along asked Kageyama." A lot has happened since we last met. Japan is at war with America and Britain and we have destroyed the entire American Pacific Fleet at Pearl Harbour. We have sunk two British battleships off Singapore and the remainder of the British fleet is fleeing back to the Indian Ocean, pursued by the Imperial Japanese Navy and our Eagles. Our land forces are occupying Honolulu, Hong Kong and the Philippines. Soon we shall have Singapore, and then India will be ours for the taking, and Japan's mission in Asia will be accomplished. The peoples of the East will be freed from the burden of British Imperialism and, united with Japan, will enjoy the greater freedom of the New Order in East Asia."

The Lieutenant added that the Japanese were magnanimous in victory and no harm would come to the British and American nationals. Of course it would be necessary to detain a few individuals who had acted contrary to the interests of His Imperial 'Majesty the Emperor, but the majority would be free to co-operate industrially in the development of Greater East Asia. In the meantime, Lieutenant Nakamura, having dried his tears of joy with his white silk handkerchief, had recovered his composure. Nervously Puffing at his cigarette, he asked Kageyama for my reactions.

Having had some experience of the manner in which the Japanese were accustomed to present their news reports, I did not for one moment believe these extravagant claims. That war had broken out there seemed to be little doubt, but I could not believe that the situation was as serious as Nakamura stated. From my own point of view, the fact that the war had started was in itself the final blow to my hopes of getting out of this hell-spot. Now I began to realise why I had heard nothing from Tientsin. I had been at Kalgan for twelve days. The Pacific war had commenced two days after my arrival. The more territory the Japanese seized, the longer it would take to drive them out. I might well be here a year or two, and under these conditions the odds against survival were fairly heavy. "Tell Nakamura I am appalled to hear this news." There was little left to say; I was trapped. Nakamura apparently sensed my depression.

"Your factory in Tientsin has not been closed, and when your case here has been brought to a satisfactory conclusion, you will return to Tientsin to your work."

Extraordinary as this statement was, it certainly sounded somewhat more hopeful. I asked Kageyama if he had been in touch with my Tientsin office.

"Sure, we have sent for one of your Japanese advisers and probably he will be here in a few days." Nakamura then said something to Kageyama. "He wants to know if there is any-thing you need."

"Yes, plenty! First of all I want something warm to put on. I am frozen," showing my feet, which were swollen and cracked with chilblains. "The food is hardly sufficient to keep one alive."

Kageyama smiled. "It's no use my telling him that.

His enquiry was purely a polite formality. You forget you are the guest of His Majesty the Emperor. The correct answer is to bow and express your appreciation of such comforts as you enjoy. I'll tell him that since you are a foreigner, you find this way of living a little uncomfortable."

Nakamura, preoccupied with his thoughts, nodded, and waving his hand, implied that the interview was over. "You had better go. If there is anything I can do for you, I will do what I can. Ask to see me again in a week or ten days if nothing has happened in the meantime." Soon I was back in my cell with all the time in the world to contemplate the latest developments. In the interval that I had been away, the noon meal had been served. On the next round of the warder, I said that I had had nothing to eat. He laughed and pointed to the Buddha-like figure next to me who, I gathered, had eaten it.

The following afternoon the cell was unlocked and we were all told to strip. The syphilitic old wreck whispered "Bath! Bath! " This sounded too good to be likely, but with our clothes in a bundle under our arms, we were marched across the courtyard, through a door in the wall and across another courtyard, where we were told to deposit our clothes in a heap at the entrance to a small building from which a cloud of steam was issuing. It was a small room, about ten feet square, with a large concrete tub occupying about a third of the area. There was a rush for the tub and six managed to squeeze in. Needless to say, our Japanese cell-mates were among the first. The bath was four feet deep, and with six people in it the water came well up to their chests. The unfortunates who were unable to get in, stood shivering around the side, scooping out water with a few old tins and pouring it over their bodies. How I envied those in the bath! In a few minutes the warder told them to get out. One by one they reluctantly clambered out, red and steaming. As one got out, another climbed in. Taking the first opportunity, I hopped in, and out a damned sight quicker; the water was practically boiling. Everyone laughed; I tried again and still found it too hot. After my third attempt, time was up, and hurriedly mopping myself with a wet towel, I followed the rest of the party across the yard. This wanton disregard for nature, a boiling hot bath followed by a walk across snow-covered courtyards in a temperature of about ten degrees below zero, would, I thought, most certainly result in pneumonia at the very least. As we passed through the wall dividing the two courtyards, there were four separate piles of clothing on the ground and we grabbed one garment from each.

Back in our cell we started putting on our clean clothes. I had already got my shirt and underpants on when I noticed most of the others, still red from the bath, carefully examining the seams of their fresh clothes. At first glance my jacket appeared to be reasonably clean. I examined it more closely: the seam down the middle of the back was all right ; I turned the sleeves inside out to find the join under the armpits and along the arm thick with lice eggs. My Japanese neighbour had also had a find and, rolling his shirt into a bundle, he threw it over to the door. I did the same. On the warder's next visit the Japanese got up and, thrusting the two shirts through the bars, asked for clean ones. Much to my surprise, the warder meekly took them away and in a short time arrived back with others. I examined these and although there were still a few eggs here and there, they were insufficient to worry about. In any case, they were in all the blankets — one would never be free of them. The bath had had a good effect on everyone; the father and son from the country livened up and whispered to one another. The crook and the old man on the opposite side were also ex-changing remarks. The two Japs opposite me were tracing characters on the floor. I felt a little more cheerful myself. This effect must have been felt amongst the occupants of the other cells too, for very soon we heard the warder, in a vile rage, shouting at the top of his voice. We heard him fumbling with the keys and the bar of a nearby cell being slid back, then three or four dull thuds, followed by prolonged whimpering, and the noise of the bolt sliding into place.

I was beginning to lose count of the days, so I spent the morning scratching a calendar on the wall with a button off my outside jacket. For lack of something better to do, we had devised a crude sundial, tracing the course of the small shaft of sunlight that penetrated the dimness of the cell from about nine in the morning till three in the afternoon. We were close to the railway, and from the regularity of certain trains we had a fairly accurate idea of the time, although it seemed only to make the passage of time more slow. To the Chinese this probably meant little; they have only a vague perception of time as we understand .it. This was the first occasion in my life when I had been deprived of the means of telling the time and I realised, with rather a feeling of disgust, how much we depend and regulate our lives on the methodical round of the clock: the eternal race against time ; the compromise of cramming more and more into the hour. It is only from the timeless vacuum of a cell that one can see the real futility of such a struggle.

The rumour was about that everyone would be tried before the end of the year. The daily routine became the most important thing in one's life: the brushing of teeth, the exquisite shock of the icy water on one's face, the ensuing scramble for a towel that had not already been used and frozen stiff ; the ridiculous formality of the how to the East ; the medical inspection which followed, lacking only the appropriate music for the complete burlesque touch, the final scramble for one's clothes ; the meal-time breaks.

Eagerly as the arrival of our mess was anticipated, there were times when I could not eat it, and on such occasions I made a point of giving it to one or other of the Chinese. This annoyed my Japanese neighbour so much that one day he finally snatched it back from the dark-skinned son of the underworld on the opposite side, whose turn it happened to be to have my left-overs. I snatched the bowl away from him and handed it back to the Chinese. The Japanese bent forward and stretched out his hand to grab the bowl again. Quickly the Chinese put the bowl on the floor and, clutching the outstretched arm, pulled the Japanese forward on his knees, at the same time giving him a terrific blow over the head with his other hand. The Jap, regaining his balance, sprang at the Chinese, knocking him against the wall with a sickening thud and, as he rolled over, got on top of him, pinning him against the floor and wall. Not to be outdone, the Chinese buried his teeth in the forearm of the Japanese who, momentarily releasing his grip, gave him his chance, and bracing his foot against the wall, the Chinese lurched forward and succeeded in flooring my neighbour. With one hand at his throat and the other fending off blows, he and the Japanese rolled across the floor. It was not long before the noise of the struggle attracted the warder. Frantically blowing his whistle and struggling with the padlock, he had hardly opened the grille before two guards armed with semi-baseball bats scrambled in. In a moment it was over. The Chinese, who was on top, received several heavy blows across the trunk and shoulders and with a piercing cry rolled over, catching as he did so a full blow on the back of his head. The two guards then proceeded to kick him in the stomach and in the crutch. He made a half-hearted effort to struggle to his feet and, receiving another sickening blow on his head, slumped to the floor unconscious. Blood, flowing freely from his head wound, spattered over his clothes and the floor. Meanwhile the miserable Jap crawled to the wall and resumed his Buddha-like position with his hands joined and his eyes closed. The guards, who had kept up a continual stream of abuse, grasped the Chinese by the legs and, pulling him over to the cell door, pushed him out into the corridor, where he fell in an unconscious heap on the earthen floor. The door was locked and he was carried off between the two guards. The next morning the three Japanese were removed, and the Chinese was never seen again. If he was not disposed of immediately, it was unlikely in any case that he would live long without medical attention. Now we had more room and there was a general feeling of relief and a much more friendly atmosphere.

The next morning I asked the doctor if I might see Kageyama-san. He nodded his head at Kageyama's name, so I gathered that he understood. Two days went by and nothing happened, then on the third, late in the afternoon, the warder came up and pushed a book through the bars to me. It was the Bible. With somewhat mixed feelings I turned the pages, wondering whether it was offered merely as reading matter or with the intention of preparing me for a better world. Looking at the fly-leaf, I noticed the name of one of my missionary friends who was still in Kalgan, and I guessed that Kageyama had borrowed it as the only reading matter permissible. It was a Revised Version, Old and New Testaments. I started at the beginning, absorbing every word. I had not read the Bible since my school days, and found the simplicity of the phrasing fascinating. The local colour and the naïve manner in which the story in the Old Testament is unfolded makes decidedly entertaining reading. I became absorbed and read throughout the daylight hours.

Christmas Day came and passed. Two more Chinese had been added to our cell, one a man of about thirty, who took the place of the Japanese Buddha. He spoke with the clear tones of the Peking Chinese and we had many snatched conversations. He was a signalman and had been arrested for tampering with the switches and wrecking a passenger train, the point being, of course, that it had run into a stationary troop train drawn up at a siding of the Tatung station, and this had resulted in the death of about forty Japanese soldiers. He knew that he would be executed and so did I he was only surprised that they had not shot him, or worse, on the spot. He seemed content to die in the knowledge that he had achieved success from his point of view. His fierce hatred and contempt for the Japanese gave him fanatical courage. These were the people who, by their constant pin-pricks, were making the occupation of North China by the Japanese a constant liability rather than an asset.

The New Year was drawing near and an effort was obviously being made to try the majority of the cases. Every morning from about nine onwards one heard the jingle of keys, the sliding of bolts and the summoning of various in-mates to court. In a few days the old man on the opposite side was called. He never returned and we hoped he had been released. The following day the fat merchant next to the latrine was summoned: after an absence of two hours he returned, much upset. Immediately the guard had locked the door and walked off down the corridor, he was anxiously questioned, and we learned that he had been sentenced to two years' imprisonment. If he had received two years for his paltry black-market dealing, then most probably I should get anything from five to ten depressing.

The food got worse, no more beans and only the cheapest of coarse millet, kaoliang. My loins and belly were a mass of bites which across the latter had developed into a blood-stained rash ; my hair was filthy and my scalp constantly irritated with lice ; my face was covered with a month-old stubble, my feet were swollen with chilblains and I was constantly frozen. There seemed to be little excuse for existing.

There were still two days before the New Year and I had but faint hope that my case would be dealt with before the end of the year. On the 29th of December I was called out. Thank God, at last it would be settled, one way or the other. Again I was taken to the sergeant's office and was much relieved to see Kageyama. "You are looking a pretty good mess. How are you making out?" he enquired, offering me a cigarette. The sergeant seemed to be taking little interest in matters and continued to write.

"How much longer is this going on, for Christ's sake? I have had about enough. What is the news?"

" Mizuno came up a few days ago from Tientsin and I tried to get them to allow you to see him, but they would not agree. He saw the Chief of Staff and tried to arrange a compromise, but they insist upon a court-martial. However, he did get them to promise to settle the case within a month. I thought that they might do it before the New Year but there is no hope of that now. The court closes tomorrow and they will not sit again for another three months, but I understand that your case may be a special sitting."

"What is the war news?

"Hong Kong has surrendered and Singapore is expected to fall any time now. The British and American Far Eastern Navy has been completely demolished. When we have taken Singapore, we shall push on to Burma and India. Within a year the war will be over. Did you get the Bible I sent you? It's the only book that they would allow."

The sergeant, who up till now had been writing, put down his pen and, pushing his chair back, strode over to the map hanging on the wall. I realised that I was in for another little discourse on the achievements of Japan. He spoke for what seemed like ten minutes and then, turning to Kageyama, asked him to interpret. It was merely a more detailed account of what Kageyama had already told me. "He wants to know when you think the British will surrender and ask for peace."

"Never," I replied, having had about enough of this interview, which seemed to be peculiarly unproductive.

"He says there is nothing further and you may return to your quarters."

That afternoon we had another bath. This time the water did not seem so hot and I managed to be one of the first in. It was heavenly. Wang, the signalman, was also amongst the first in ; he scrubbed my back vigorously with a towel and I did the same for him. I began to feel clean and alive once more, with still some incentive to exist, and I wondered how this affected Wang, who seemed to take his fate so casually. He was yet young and strong, he had a wife, but she was ten years his senior and he had for the past half-year been living with a young girl who in another few months would be bearing him a child. He would never see the child or the girl again. She was a good cook too, that seemed to be his only regret. On returning from the bath I noticed that a new guard was on duty, tall for a Japanese and powerfully built. His small eyes, sunk in a completely characterless face, had the shiftiness of a bully.

Lining us up in the corridor, he looked us over, commenting on any peculiarities he happened to notice. Arriving in front of me he laughed, pulled my nose and said something about "big nose" in Chinese. The merchant who had so recently received his two-year sentence was made to bend over facing the entrance to the cell, and the guard, lifting his boot, gave him a kick on the bottom. As he was rather large and heavy, this did not have the desired result, but by the time the second kick had been administered, the unfortunate fellow lost little time in scrambling into the cell ; next carne the young farmer. We all had to go through it; it was my turn, a swift kick in the rump and I was practically lifted through the door. It was painful, but having had one's turn it was not without its amusing side — the expression of anticipation before the kick and the pained surprise at the moment of impact. For days I had quite an uncomfortable seat. So far we had been lucky with the guards but we all realised that from now on we could expect trouble.

The stench of the latrine, the complete lack of privacy in relieving the calls of nature, the lice, the lack of adequate food, and on top of it all, the intense cold, made life a misery. Only once or twice during the day were we able to get some semblance of warmth into our bodies, but half an hour after P.T. we were cold again. The syphilitic was failing with each day that passed; he had a constant cough and at night wheezed heavily. Finally one morning he declared himself unable to get up. The warder came, swore at him, and kicked him, but by now he was beyond caring; he lay down all day. During the medical examination the doctor had a look at him. The next morning he was dead. Two guards came in, rolled him in his blanket and dragged him out.

New Year's Day: we were left to our own devices by the warders throughout the day, there was no medical inspection and we returned to our cells to receive an extra ration in the form of sticky rice-flour dumplings. For the first time I felt that I had had enough to eat. With the guards paying little or no attention to us, we had the first real opportunity to converse without fear of consequences. From the old farmer at the end of the row I learned that he and his nephew came from a village twenty miles south-west of Kalgan. He was the head-man of the village, which from time to time was occupied by the Chinese guerrilla forces, and he had been taken by the Japanese on their most recent punitive expedition against the guerrillas. His village was in "no-man's-land" ; too far away from the Japanese lines of communication for them to place a permanent garrison there and yet within striking distance of the garrison at the nearest railway point. Both the guerrillas and the Japanese levied contributions of grain, and the Japanese on their visits would demand sheep, pigs and chickens. This had been going on for nearly two years and the village was desperately poor. On the last visit of the Japanese a small amount only of coarse grain was to be had, and for this reason they had arrested the head-man and his nephew on the ground that they had been supplying the guerrillas. He considered it merely a form of blackmail, as the Japanese knew full well that sooner or later representatives from the village would bargain for his release. If the amount asked was too much and no settlement was reached, then eventually he would be sentenced to work on the roads or the railway with his nephew. They were not perturbed; if the Japanese expected them to work, then at least they would be fed, and once out of here, there would be chances of escape.

The spirit of these people gave them a courage which they bore with naturalness and quiet confidence. It was not the fiery courage of the young revolutionist, but the courage born of generations of suffering from the primeval struggle against nature itself for very existence. Flood and famine had hardened these people to withstand suffering; disease early eliminated the weaker ones. From time to time China had been overrun by foreign invaders from the North. On each occasion these invaders had been absorbed and, strengthened by the fusion, a new China had been born. The periodical rebirth of China is of necessity painful and slow; generations pass before the ultimate end is achieved, when the hard edges are worn off and the new principles have been shaped by the people to meet their requirements. Then sometimes there are generations of gracious living such as during the Han and T'ang dynasties. Now once again China is being reborn. But never has the birth been so difficult. Pillaged by war-lords and exploited by foreign powers, the past few generations have known only privation and misery; many generations must pass in suffering and hardship before peace and prosperity are achieved. It is these people who by their simple courage and fortitude, their passive resistance against the enemy and nature, make the rebirth of China possible. Born into an era of chaos and poverty, and hardened by continual struggles against many odds, they were well fitted to meet the Japanese onslaught in China.

As I looked at my fellow prisoners, I began to realise that these were the people, rather than the armies of China, who would in the end triumph over the Japanese. Each one of us in this cell, in this prison (if we got out alive), would be fired with undying hatred of the Japanese. We were but a few. But thousands of others were suffering daily throughout China at the hands of the Japanese Military Police, in prisons and in concentration camps. Only two types of people emerge from these hells : those whose spirits have been completely crushed, often mental or physical wrecks, and those who emerge tempered as fine steel and unwavering in their determination to seek revenge.

Two days after the New Year we had an addition to our cell. He was a rather shifty-looking individual and he was placed between Wang and the old farmer. It was not long before he started to converse with both of them. After medical inspection the following morning, word got round that he was a "plant" and spent his time going from cell to cell spying on the occupants in the hope that he would pick up something of use to the Japanese. This was borne out in the afternoon when the warder, with no particular reason, moved him across to the other row. Nobody took any notice of him and the following day he was called out after tiffin and we did not have him back with us again.

The weather continued to be bitterly cold but I was getting used to it; my feet seemed to have hardened and I was less bothered by chilblains. We seldom got out in the yard for exercise these days; the last time there had just been a six-inch fall of snow and we had been called out to shovel it away and clean up the courtyard, and were later jogged round in single file for a few minutes Although panting with the unaccustomed exertion, it was good to feel one's whole body alive and glowing with warmth. The food continued to be appalling. For the past few days we had each been given one salted sprat, about the length of one's little finger. Fortunately it could be eaten from head to tail, as the bones were soft. It added a little flavour to the few mouthfuls of tasteless gruel. Days passed. I seemed to have been forgotten. The fat merchant was taken away, as those who had received their sentences were confined in another prison. Often the days of waiting for trial outnumbered the actual sentences. Some of the prisoners had already been awaiting trial for over a year. Although I had been there for only five weeks, it seemed like five years. In these conditions one cannot help but become depressed, one's past life is as another world, and one clutches at straws of human comradeship amongst one's fellow prisoners. A friendly smile, a joke, the sharing of one's last piece of toilet paper, a kindly word of encouragement here and there, a dirty story or the criticism of some particular individual's private parts, exposed to all during the performing of one's daily functions, the continual search for vermin: these were all one had.

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