USS HOUSTON CA 30

“The galloping Ghost of the Java Coast”

Ralph Edgar Morris

by

Marlene Morris McCain

(Daughter of R. Edgar Morris)

I grew up knowing that my father had always loved music, and had served aboard USS Houston during World War II. But like many of our dads, he didn’t talk at all to his children about the months of battles and the years of mistreatment and near-starvation in the POW labor camps. His name was R. Edgar Morris—Eddie to those who knew him well. He always loved music and he played trombone and baritone and piano. He enlisted in the US Navy in December 1939, and became a member of USS Houston’s band at age 20. All he really wanted was to see the world – and play his trombone.

As adults, we recently discovered much information about my dad, about the Houston, and her band, which we discovered just recently in some letters Edgar wrote home. They had been stored in a small box which we’ve begun to describe as our family’s “Treasure box” since we first opened it…

Becoming a US Navy Musician...

Even as early as his time in boot camp at Great Lakes NTS, Edgar Morris would check on the qualifications needed to become a Navy Musician. Eventually, in San Diego, he took the required examinations and qualified for Fleet Music School, which only admitted 50 students at a time. He felt very lucky to get in. “The Navy trade schools,” he said, “rank just below Annapolis in rating and are better than almost any college… This is paradise to me; I have all day with music.”

After graduation Edgar served in Hawaii on USS Northampton for almost 6 months and loved his work with the band there. In early January 1941, he applied for transfer to the Far East. In a letter to his folks, he said, “The Navy has gotten into my blood; I am thinking of making it my permanent home. I really enjoy riding the waves and am never seasick… I guess you didn’t know that I turned down an appointment to the Naval Academy while I was in San Diego; I just want to be a regular sailor.”

Besides Edgar, there were four other musicians aboard USS Nitro, which took 19 days to transport them to Manila, and true to character, they “got together a little orchestra and played each night before movies.” He wrote to his parents, “I am not certain that I shall be sent to the Houston, but I understand that the bandmaster on the Houston is in charge of all the bands in the Asiatic station; so maybe I will stay on her.”

Edgar and four other musicians arrived in Manila on the 29^th. Edgar wrote, “The bandmaster told my friend, (“Hap”) Kelley, and me that we would probably get initiated into the orchestra on Sunday at the Army/Navy Club when it opens for the first time…I had expected to be playing the baritone rather than the trombone and was afraid of being transferred to the USS Black Hawk; but I was asked to sit in and play piano with the Houston’s orchestra. I guess I did OK because I am going to stay on the Houston for sure!”

There were 19 in the Houston’s band, and 12 or 13 were used for the orchestra. The members of the band were mostly young fellows, and Edgar had gotten well acquainted with them. One, WALTER SCHNECK, was a friend that he had known in San Diego. He says they were considered to be the best band their side of the 180^th meridian! He was proud to be in the organization and enjoyed his work much more than he had in Honolulu.

“Today, the band played concert at noon,” Edgar wrote… “I was put on the peck horn (alto horn) and did OK; I would rather play anything on the Houston than get to play what I asked for on any other ship. At least I will get to be in the orchestra playing piano – which I love – and we play ashore about 2 or 3 times a week.”

On April 17, 1941, the band played about two hours up on the forecastle for the Admiral and his luncheon party. The next day they played at the Manila Club for a group of performers from a Russian Dancers group.

Each evening the orchestra would play before movies and each noon the band played a few marches and one or two classics up on the quarterdeck. Edgar was getting along fine with the unfamiliar peck horn (like a small version of a baritone); the band played quite a few heavy classics and light operas and most of those pieces had a peck horn solo or two. He said that their outfit was good and they could get over the hard stuff pretty easily – and they played a lot of it!

While the Houston went out to sea for battle practice and maneuvers, Edgar didn’t get any practice on the piano because there was not a piano aboard. But he had a typewriter and frequently typed his letters home and that kept his fingers pretty limber.

His battle station in the daytime was the machine gun nest on top of the after mast, and at night he was a pointer for Number Two giant searchlight on the searchlight platform. Some of the others of the band were on the 5-inch guns and others did the handling of the big 5-inch shells on the loading machines.

During the week around July 4, 1941, they were back in Manila, and it was a very busy week for the band. Every morning was spent in 4^th of July parade rehearsal, but when the 4^th arrived, bad weather kept the boats from going ashore and they missed the parade.

Later that night the weather calmed enough and they played at the officers club at the Cavite Naval Yard until the wee hours of the morning. The next night they played at the Manila Polo Club – such a grand affair that they did not play in their uniforms, but wore their special shirts, ties and sashes. They started playing at 8:00 pm and played straight through until nearly 4:30 am. And the next morning the band played for church!

Edgar wrote his parents on July 11^th, “The choir for church has not been getting along so well with the band and there was no piano. So on Monday, July 7^th, Chaplain Rentz asked me if I thought I would be able to play an organ if he got me one (and) I told him I would do my best. Tuesday morning, he sent for me and as soon as I entered his cabin I saw the organ, a small portable one. He told me to try it and he liked it. He then asked me to have a few numbers ready to play that afternoon. Later, when he sent for me again, we went up to Captain Oldendorf’s cabin to demonstrate the organ. The Captain liked it also; and then the Chaplain gave me a list of numbers to practice for Sunday in church. Yesterday we had choir rehearsal and it went off fine. I will be playing church from now on; I am really happy to have the organ to play because I can keep my fingers in shape.”

By Sunday, July 13^th, the Houston was at Palawan and Edgar played the organ in church. The service went off very well. Edgar started playing the portable organ on Saturday night for the singing of a few of the old-time songs before movies. On Sunday, July 20^th, now at Tawitawi, after finishing a church service on the Houston, Edgar played the portable organ on USS Marblehead.

With War Approaching...

The Houston was mostly out to sea for battle practice and maneuvers in August and September 1941, there was no mail, and Edgar was unable to write home.

On October 2^nd, Edgar was finally able to correspond again and he reported that “We have been out to sea almost constantly. These last months have been really hard on morale; we have not had any liberty and are literally cooped up on the ship. Everyone gets pretty grumpy… Since I last wrote to you, we have a new bandmaster [i.e.: George L. Galyean, Bmstr (PA)] and about five new men in the band.”

About three weeks later the Houston was back at Cavite Navy Yard. In a letter written on November 15, 1941, Edgar wrote, “The band has really been taking it easy since coming into Cavite two weeks ago. We play Morning Colors, rehearse a few hours, then Noon Concert and we are finished until 8:00 the next morning. I am in fine health and still like everything and look forward immensely to coming home.” This was the last letter his parents received. Edgar had had 12 days leave after boot camp in early 1940, but had not been home on leave since. It would be almost 4 more years before he would see Illinois again.

The Battle of Sunda Strait & POW Captivity

As USS Houston fought her last battle near Bantam Bay on the night of February 28, 1942, Edgar’s battle station was on the 1.1 pom-pom gun located on the port side next to the forward mast.

After Abandon Ship was ordered, Edgar spent about 11 hours in the water when he was picked up by a whaleboat from a Japanese tanker. He and seven other Americans were taken aboard the tanker, which was torpedoed, and run aground. The Americans were then transferred to an IJN destroyer where they joined about 70 captured sailors from HMAS Perth. From there they were moved to a large troopship for 9 days, then on March 10, 1942 they were taken by truck to Serang Theater Prison Camp. On April 15^th, they were moved to Bicycle Prison Camp in Batavia, Java.

On October 11, 1942, Edgar and some others were transported by “hellship” to Changi Prison Camp in Singapore, Malaya, arriving on Oct. 16^th. Edgar was separated from the rest of the Houston survivors at this point. Only 12 Houston men including 2 Marines were ever interned for most of the Pacific War at Changi prison, including my father and one other band member, Albert M. “Hap” Kelley, Mus1/c, who in March 1941 had made the trip from Hawaii with Edgar and had gone aboard the Houston at the same time.

On 5 April 1943 Edgar was transferred to Kanchaniburi, Thailand where he worked at “Motor Camp” on the trucks that supplied the forced labor POW camps further upcountry along the Burma-Thailand Railroad. After eight months at Kanchaniburi, Edgar was returned to Singapore—first to Sime Road Prison Camp, and then in April 1944, back to Changi where he remained until he was liberated on September 7, 1945. He was flown to the military hospital in Calcutta, India, by the American ATC – one of the first of any nationality to leave Singapore. Very weakened from recurring attacks of malaria—12 attacks in 7 months—Edgar weighed only 100 pounds and was almost totally blind from malnutrition. Liberation seemed a dream; and he was afraid he would wake up and still be in Changi. Kept in Calcutta for more than 2 weeks, Edgar was finally headed home by Sept. 20^th.

Edgar had written about 30 cards and letter-forms during the time he was a POW, but his parents eventually received just one postcard in January 1945—the only one they ever got; but, it was enough; they knew that their son was alive. Edgar had worried constantly because he had received no replies from his parents to his POW camp correspondence; he feared that something had happened to them while he had been gone.

By early October 1945 Edgar was back in New York at the Naval Hospital in St. Albans and could correspond easily with his parents. He learned that some of the girls from his high school class had visited his mother in the months and years after the ship was reported lost; one of them was my mother. They had been friends in high school, but not sweethearts. He wrote her, asking if he could come and thank her for her kindness.

On October 8^th, Edgar was at last on a train and headed for Illinois. We found the stub of his ticket in its original envelope among the things in our “treasure box.”

On October 11^th, he went to see a young woman who would become my mother. 17 days later they were married! They had been friends in high school, but not sweethearts. Edgar had

learned that she had visited his mother in the months and years after the ship was reported lost. He didn’t go to the Navy Day Celebration; being home was too fresh and too wonderful – and besides, he was busy getting married! Edgar was restless, and unable to find a house of their own due to postwar housing shortages, they traveled for the first several weeks of their marriage. His dad had offered a job in his own workplace, but Edgar told him, “I’ve just been ‘locked up’ for 3½ years; I don’t think I can stand to be inside a building all the time.” He eventually joined my mother’s family in farming – and he loved it! When he had proposed to her, he told her that the Navy doctors had said they thought they could promise him 15 years more of life, but were uncertain about more than that because of his ongoing health problems from the years as a POW. She said “yes” anyway – and they were married for 47 happy years before his death Jan.1, 1993. I will always think that the good farm cooking, lots of fresh country air, and their happiness contributed to his much longer life. At the time of his passing, he was the last of the surviving band members from the Houston.

Edgar never went to any of the USS Houston Reunions, but he received the newsletter and always read it from cover to cover. Since he had been separated from most of the other Houston survivors during the long years in prison camp perhaps he felt somewhat disconnected. He continued to correspond with his Australian and English friends, and in 1954 the English friend immigrated to the United States with his wife and two small sons, sponsored by Edgar’s dad. They settled in Illinois, and remained close friends for the rest of their lives. We saw them often; and when we visited, my dad and his friend would get off by themselves and talk a mile a minute for all of the time they had together. This seemed to be the “support group” that each of them needed.

For Father’s Day, 1990 my husband found another book for my dad – this one, American Cruisers of World War II, a Pictorial Encyclopedia. As with any book relating to his time in the Navy, my dad “devoured” it. He made notations by each ship that he had been on – even if it was just for church duty. By the piece on USS Houston CA-30, he wrote, “My Ship – March 1941 – Sunk March 1, 1942.” That notation is very possessive; he loved the Navy – and he loved the Houston! He was so proud to have served aboard her.

Marlene Morris McCain

(Daughter of R. Edgar Morris)

a 'country boy

who was glad to get home'

By Julene Shaffner

Time has softened the edges of the harsh memories leaving behind a quiet glow of pride: pride in having served his country, pride in simply surviving. For Edgar Morris of West Union those memories and feelings were brought back into sharper focus last week. Morris received a "prisoner of war" medal, an award only recently authorized by the United States Congress.

Defense records indicate about 142,000 service members who were held captive in wars after April 5, 1917 are qualified for the POW Medal."It took me three and a half years (in prison) to earn this medal," said Morris, "and forty-two years to receive it. I'm proud of it."

But he quickly adds: "Don't make me out a hero. I was just a country boy who was glad to get home."The road that led to Morris spending time in a Singapore prison camp

during World War II began in peace time in 1939.After graduating from Mar-shall High School in 1938 Morris attended Indiana State for one year, but he says, "I didn't like school. I joined the Navy to see the world."

Morris and Don Farris of Marshall (now deceased) joined the Navy on the same day, but after training at Great Lakes they were separated. Eventually, Morris would travel in 33 different countries. And though he has enjoyed many of the countries, he'll quickly tell you "There's

none like the good old U.S.A."Using his talents as a pianist and a horn player, Morris first served with the Pacific fleet. From September of 1940 through February of 1941 he served in Honolulu. He got to Manila as a volunteer to the Asiatic fleet in March of 1941. By November of 1941, Morris had became a member of the admiral's band of the U.S.S. Houston. As a part of the admiral's staff, he would enjoy a certain amount of privileges but he was not exempt from serving at gun stations.

The Houston headed south toward the southern Philippine Islands. "It was 2:30 in the morning when we heard about Pearl Harbor," says Morris of the beginning of World War 11. The Houston continued southward under steadily worsening conditions. Morris rattles off the names of exotic places. "Each place we left was bombed by the Japanese as we went out the harbor. We were just a few feet away from the bombs.” But the Houston was rapidly approaching her date with destiny. On February 26, 1942 she joined British, Australian, Dutch and American ships trying to head off a huge Japanese fleet heading south to Java. The next day, Feb. 27, several allied ships were lost in the battle of the Java Sea, but the Marblehead, the Houston and the Australian ship "Perth" escaped to head back to Djakarta, the capital of Indonesia.

As the Japanese made a major landing on Java in the early hours of March 1, 1942, the Houston and the Perth were caught in the Sundra Straits between Sumtra and Java. The Perth went down almost immediately. The Houston lasted for 25 minutes. Thrown into the water with a life jacket, Morris watched as the two lines of Japanese ships actually fired on each other, sinking some of their own vessels.A strong swimmer, Morris stayed alone in the water, refusing to get on the life boats. It proved to be the right decision as many of the rafts were machine-gunned. Of the 1,070 on the Houston, 698 died in action, 372 were taken prisoners and 77 would die as POW's. Among those who went down with the ship was Carl Doty of Casey. Doty was an officer whom Morris never met..After 11 hours in the water, Morris was picked up by a Japanese commercial vessel and the long days as a prisoner of war began. Morris and his fellow sailors were first taken to Serang jail and then to a camp in Djarkta. In Sept. of 1942 the prisoners were moved by ship to Singapore where he was thrown in with more than 60,000 allied prisoners taken in the Malayan Pennsula. From Singapore the prisoners were taken to various work camps in Burma and Thailand. Morris spent 8 months in Kan Chan Buri in Thailand where he worked near the infamous death bridge than inspired the movie "The Bridge on the River Kwai."Eventually he was returned to Singapore where he spent the remainder of his captivity under an ever decreasing diet. Morris is reluctant to speak of the atrocities and brutalities of a prison camp. "Over the years your mind sort of blocks out those things and you remember the funny things," he says. And though he admits he was sometimes beaten, he says, "1 was fortunate. The worst things seemed to happen to someone else."

Of his Japanese captors he says, "There were good ones and bad ones." He recalls the Korean guards in Thailand as the most brutal. But the biggest problem was of progressive starvation and disease. In Singapore prison camp the Japanese would set up a perimeter and the prisoners had to stay inside those confines with their own officers in charge. Able-bodied working men were supposed to be allowed 1,100 calories a day. The walking sick were allotted 1/2 rations and the bedfast only 1/4 rations.” Basically, able bodied men got about 800 calories a day," he says, "and our medication was slim. A lot of the boys who died in camp just gave up after being drug down by the repeated illnesses.” Morris himself suffered from every kind of dysentery, dingy fever, scorpion stings and had 43 attacks of Malaria. Whenever the felt able, prisoners could spend their time playing checkers, cards and chess. Some books were available, but Morris doesn't recall reading much. "Your eyes go bad after so much malnutrition," he says.Several groups put on plays and there was a band in the prison camp. "You'd be surprised what people can remember," he says of the men who put on the plays from memory. Morris met some interesting people from countries like Australia and New Zealand. Once he sat down to play chess with an Australian only to discover that the man was a runner-up to the Australian National chess champion. He still corresponds with an Australian friend who came to this country to visit him in 1964. A young Englishman from the Royal Air Force became his best friend while they were in Thailand in late 1943. "From then on we shared everything, whether it was a teaspoon of vinegar or a bit of rice," he says.

After the war Morris' father would sponsor the English boy in this country and eventually he would marry and raise and American family. He still lives in Normal. Despite being shut away from the rest of the world, Morris says that in every camp the prisoners managed to hide a radio and to hear something about the war. By 1945, it was apparent that Japan was losing the war and the first time the prisoners were allowed to receive letters and food from the Red Cross. Morris' family back in Illinois received no word from him until Jan. 1945, nearly 3 years after his capture. In fact, a memorial service had been held for him in 1942 at the Methodist Church in Marshall. When his parents finally received a letter from him, it included a saying that only his parents would recognize. Even so they took the letter to a Japanese professor in St. Louis who confirmed that it was genuine. Although Japan signed a peace treaty on August 15. 1945, Singapore and the Japanese General Yamashita were hold outs. The Japanese guards had given up their rifles, but still carried sticks. It was still a dangerous situation when American planes approached Singapore on Sept. 15, 1945. Approaching the airport tower, the planes were denied permission to land. One pilot responded "I've got six 35 caliber machine guns and a lot of 45's, I'm coming in.” Morris recalled "We had about 10 minutes notice to get on the plane and we all kept asking, `How much can we eat?' C-rations hadn't been invented when we were taken prisoners. We ate all that was on the plane. Those dry C-rations seemed like caviar to us.” Morris' English friend was removed by boat later and he had the pleasure of seeing Yamashita looking out through bars before the Japanese General was executed. Morris weighed 97 pounds when he headed for home, nearly 50 pounds

below his pre-warweight. By October 10 he weighed 160 pounds.

Morris arrived in New York Oct. 2, 1945 and on Oct. 28 married Mildred Baughman West Union. After working a few weeks in the county clerk's office, he started farming near West Union. For several years also worked part-time for the I. Hubert Ellis in his grocery store

"We had a tough road the( first few years," he says. "1 river got our crops and it seen like we sold low and bout high."

Edgar and Mildred raised th daughters, Betty Jo Morris West Union; Mary Ann, Mrs. Bill Crumrin of W Union; and Marlene, now M Joe McCain of Arkansas. Morris has been a ham radio operator and at times has tall by radio to people all over world. "It kept me with an interest when everything else seemed to go against me. It's bee lot of pleasure to me."

Forty-two years have tempered his feelings for his Japanese tormentors. He admits he doesn't like see the Japanese buying up much of this country and Knows that many former serviceman are still bitter.

But says, you have to remember that their culture was different

from ours, differently.” I don't think I ever really hated them,

even back then. I was just so glad to get home.

Besides anyone who was over me

then would be an old man now."

As Memorial day approaches Morris can look back over his life and remember all who didn't come back from World War II.

He agreed to tell his story par¬tially because so many young people don't know about those days.

"I've been fortunate," he repeats.

STATEMENT OF:

RALPH EDGAR MORRIS, MUS. 2/CLASS, US NAVY, REGARDING THE SINKING OF THE USS HOUSTON, FLAGSHIP OF THE ASIATIC FLEET, AND HIS CAPTIVITY BY THE JAPANESE ARMED FORCES:

The USS Houston was in Iloilo Harbor, Philippines on December 7, 1941 when war was officially declared on Japan. The ship was used to convoy the remnants of the Asiatic Fleet through the lines of defense to their ultimate goal in the harbor of Darwin, Australia. During this trip, no enemy ships or planes caused any alarm and we had only the reports of the radio to make us realize that a war was going on. Most of our time between that period and the date of February 4, 1942 was spent patrolling and doing some convoy work. On February 4th, the Houston and other ships were attacked by Japanese bombers. This resulted in a loss of life totaling approximately 56 men.

The next encounter with the Japanese forces was on the 15th and 16th of February, when, with a convoy of American and Australian troops heading for Timor Island, we were attacked and succeeded in warding off the enemy without any loss of life on our own ship and only one killed from one of the convoyed ships. From then until about the 22nd of February, we had no actual encounters with the enemy forces but on that date, while tied up to the dock at Surabaya, Java, we had successive air raids - but no casualties.

On the 25th of February, the Houston, with as strong a task force as we could gather in those waters, set off from Surabaya to intercept an enemy convoy reported to be headed for Java. This convoy was not sighted and engaged in action until the afternoon of February 26th. The battle lasted until about midnight, about nine hours total (the Battle of the Java Sea). Most of our force was wiped out and the USS Houston, along with the Australian cruiser, HMAS Perth, steamed at full speed from the scene to the harbor of Batavia, Java, arriving on the afternoon of February 28th.

We took on fuel and were told that we had a clear run for Australia through the Sunda Straits and that the port of Perth, Australia would be our next stop. The men around my gun station were never advised as to what extent the commanders knew about our chances of making it through. We were told that no obstacle was in our way except the probability of many enemy planes being in the area, and that we would most likely have our hands full until away from the Java area.

We left Batavia Harbor on the evening of February 28th and the Perth was steaming ahead of us. At approximately 11:25 PM, in the eastern mouth of the Sunda Straits, the Perth opened fire and we all suddenly realized that we were engaging the enemy in another battle. Before many minutes elapsed, we were aware of the hopeless odds and the abandon ship call was given.

I jumped over the side and started swimming away from the ship before it went down.

After being in the water for about 11 hours, I was picked up by a pulling whaleboat from

a Japanese tanker. The Japanese had evidently rescued all of their own men that could be

found so the more humane of the remaining ships set about to rescue what numbers of us could be found. Myself and seven other Americans were taken aboard the mother ship and given proper care, including blankets, some food, drink and cigarettes. The commander of the Japanese ship asked us some questions and gave us ample opportunity to rest after our ordeal. He spoke enough English that we could make ourselves understood and the impression he gave me was that he was quite all right. However, the ship was torpedoed about two hours later and, after running the ship aground, the commander told us that he could not keep us on his ship and we would have to be transferred.

A Japanese destroyer was soon brought alongside and we were moved from the tanker to this destroyer. We were taken to the fantail of this ship and there found about 70 Australian sailors who had been aboard the Perth. On this ship, we first began to learn of the way the Japanese treated POW's. We were all gathered in one very small group and had about a 12 by 20 ft. area to stay in until they could move us to other accommodations. We remained there overnight and in the morning got a feed of a few hard biscuits and one small cup of water. We were then loaded into boats and taken to a large troopship where we were packed into a hold just below the main deck. We were given 2 pints of water and 2 pints of rice with 2 medium-sized sardines each day for a period of 9 days until we were moved onto the beach and taken by truck to our first camp (Serang Theater Prison camp, March 10, 1942 to April 15, 1942).

On April 15, 1942, we were moved to Bicycle Prison Camp in Batavia, Java. When transferred from Serang Prison Camp to Bicycle Camp, we were loaded into army trucks and rode the distance of 72 kilometers with about 30 men to each truck. The US Army would not permit any more that about 15 men to be moved more than about 2 or 3 miles in the size of truck in which we made this trip.

On October 11, 1942, we were transferred from Bicycle Camp to Changi Prison Camp in Singapore, Malaya, arriving on October 16, 1942. We were taken to Malaya by a Japanese ship, the Dai Nichi Maru. We had approximately 1,500 men in the hold where I was. Others were put into different holds and stated that they were as crowded or more so than what we were. We were given the barest amount of rations, according the standards of their (the Japanese) own rations, and allowed very little time up in the open air. Any time that a ship or small sea-going craft would approach to within four or five thousand yards, we were made to go below deck and would not even be allowed out for sanitary purposes. We were given no water except what each man could steal from the one or two decent Japanese sailors who would let a very few get water from a very questionably sanitary supply of stored water. During the trip, many cases of dysentery broke out and no consideration of sanitation was given the sick cases or to any of the rest of us except when they would condescend to let us break out on the topside to go to the latrines (which were not even adequate for one hundred men). This trip took five or six days and, at the end of that time, we were unloaded from the ship and taken by truck to Changi Prison Camp in Singapore, Malaya.

I remained at Changi until transferred to Motor Camp in Kanchinaburi, Siam (Thailand) on April 5, 1943. After leaving Singapore, we were taken first to Hampong, Siam where we were loaded into steel boxcars approximately 18 feet in length, 9 feet in breadth and 6 feet in height. Each car was made to hold 28 to 30 prisoners and travel with about half rations and no actual supply of water for a distance of about 1,500 miles. We were kept in these railroad cars continually for five days with no rests given to let us stretch or carry out the natural functions of the body. The few exceptions were stops that were made for refueling purposes and the few times we stopped to get food supplies. The food given at these points was good enough according to the standards we had been used to under the Japanese but we were also given some food that was to be carried with us for later use. Having no way to prevent it, the food was always more than half spoiled and thoroughly unwholesome. Regardless of sickness or whatever unpleasant happenings occurred on this trip, the Japanese made no allowances for this and we went on just as if we were animals.

I spent approximately eight months in Kanchinaburi Motor Camp and then was returned to Sime Road Prison Camp in Singapore. On the return trip from Siam to Singapore by rail on November 19, 1943, the situation was the same - only it was actually worse. The men had been in the jungle and working on the inhumane job of building the Siamese-Burma Railway and we were again loaded into the same size boxcars. With so many sick men this time, we were still crowded into these cars with 27 to 30 men in each one. If possible, even less consideration was given to us when it was needed, because of the great number of men, including myself, with bad cases of diarrhea, dysentery, skin sores, malaria and the many other tropical diseases contracted while working in Siam. During the return trip to Singapore, the train that I was on supposedly included the personnel that were the "fit" men of the returning group. One man that I know of on the train I was on, died of malnutrition and various diseases. To the best of my knowledge, the Japanese stopped the train at some convenient town and handed the body over to some natives who were told to dispose of it - hardly a fitting funeral for one who died for his country. On this trip, we were again on the train for a period of about five days receiving no greater amount of food than before and, as we came nearer to Singapore, the amount of food decreased. In April of 1944, I returned to Changi Prison Camp from the one at Sime Road.

I was liberated on September 7, 1945 from Changi Prison in Singapore by the American A.T.C. and was among the first of any nationality of prisoners to leave the island. Due to possible trouble with the Japanese still technically in control, we were always kept in strong groups when away from the main camp until we were finally flown away from Singapore and taken to Calcutta, India. In Calcutta, we were sent to the 142nd General Hospital that was controlled by the US Armed Forces. At the time of liberation, I weighed 100 lbs. (normal weight was 145 lbs.) and was in a very weakened condition due to recurring (bi-weekly) malarial attacks. I suffered from a lack of sufficient medical treatment and just prior to release, was almost totally blind due to malnutrition.

very little need of treatment until taken to Siam where I fell down with acute diarrhea and a very bad case of skin sores. Our own medical men described these as tropical skin scabies brought on by an insufficient amount of food and not enough variety of vitamins and calories in the small amount of food given to us. During this time, I fell off from around 140 lbs. to 113 lbs. and managed to pull through my sickness only by the moral support and kindness of some of my friends. The only treatment given by the Japanese was a liberal amount of raw charcoal for my diarrhea and a poor amount of raw sulfur mixed with a native product of palm oil (for the skin diseases). This salve was of little or no help in curing the skin trouble. Later on, in Singapore, I went almost totally blind in both eyes from malnutrition and had no actual help except from a very small amount of liquid "Marmite" (one ounce diluted with approximately ten parts of water). I also contracted malaria during the time I was kept in the hospital and was given twenty grains of quinine per day for the usual period of seven to ten days duration.

I had quite a bit of dental trouble in that I broke several teeth or corners of teeth caused by the unmerciful amount of rocks and other foreign substances in the rice issued by the Japanese for our food. I had one tooth broken off so badly that it had to be extracted practically without the use of any sedative or pain killer. The pain killer was cocaine that had been thoroughly weakened by the Japanese before being turned over to our own doctors for use on we prisoners.

The only visits that I know of into our camps by Red Cross representatives were in December — January of 194243. Later several short visits were made during the last two or three months of my captivity. Although I had no personal contact with these representatives, I am certain that some of the officers in our camp were permitted to speak with them — but only in the company of the Japanese officers. During the last visits of the Red Cross representatives, they were conducted into our camp (Changi Prison. Camp) and, under the guidance of some of the Allied officers and under the supervision of the Japanese, were permitted to make a small inspection tour into and around the camp. Their own idea of our camp was made into just a few words, "This camp is not a fit place for dumb animals to live in and surely not for about 12,000 men to be herded togethm"

I wrote approximately 30 cards or letter forms but it was not until I had been a prisoner for three years that my folks did receive one of them (January 1945) and it was the only authentic card or message from me while I was a prisoner.