Imaging the dim past ---- turbulent times
.
The Japanese occupation lasted three years and eight months. They were turbulent times. Our education was in complete abeyance. Dad did not have a permanent job. And we moved house a least twice. It was a real struggle to stay alive.
We were at the estate when the Japanese came. Each time the planes flew overhead the whole family would dash into the bathroom to seek shelter just in case they dropped their load of bombs. At one stage we went deeper into the plantation for safety and remained there for only a couple of days because it offered no solution.
Dad was still with the home guard and when he realized that the British had bolted he dropped his gear -- his uniform, his truncheon, and his gun into the pit latrine. He decided it was suicidal to face the enemy all by himself. He made mum sew the rising sun to fly over the roof. Two days later the place was swarming with Japanese, groups of them riding through the estate on bikes. This was followed by a lull.
We had not seen any enemy soldier for a couple of days. Dad decided to have a calf slaughtered to sell for food. The sale was brisk -----but towards four pm a group of soldiers appeared. They ordered the meat to be put into a metal container and made dad carry it as they marched away pointing a bayonet at dad‘s back. We had no idea where they took him to and when he failed to return late that evening we thought the worst had happened. He got back very late in the night and related how he escaped the worst punishment. When he was being interrogated by the soldiers he spoke in Chinese. This put the Commandant at ease and dad was released . Dad was good at Hockkien as he spoke the dialect all the time.
Days went by and to earn some income dad started a small business selling mostly daily essentials. He would cycle through the rubber estates taking the shortest route to Penang to purchase the consumables. He took me along with him on one of his trips and we crossed the channel to Penang by a sampan. He would never fail to include, among the items bought, a few books from the secondhand bookshops for us to read.
We kept a small flock of goats and mum grew vegetables in the garden next to the house. One day one of the kids died and the four of us held a funeral service which included a short procession accompanied by the banging of drum and the clashing of metal can lids to precede the burial.
We would involve ourselves in play acting to occupy our time beside helping to manage the stall. I have to relate this incident because it had a tragic ending. We played at soldiering. We would march along four feet deep trench located not far from the house. Florence was at the end of the line. Suddenly we heard a loud scream. We turned round to find her screaming in pain. She had stepped on a broken bottle and was bleeding profusely. We called out for help and dad came. He carried her back to the house and sewed up the cut on her ankle with a piece of string and a sewing needle. She recovered within a few days.