Sunday, January 8, 2012

Throughout The War

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15th of February, it was the most historic moment in my life. Once the British surrendered, the survivors of war were living a different life altogether.

Not only we were deprived of our daily needs, we were also starved of our human liberty and rights.

As a 1-year-old boy, I could not make out of the war. Peace was always in my mind. When I heard of the news that Pearl Harbor was bombed, disappointment and a feeling of doom overcame me. What could a 1-year-old student of St. Joseph’s Institution do about this? However, the war quickly passed, the horrors would still remain.

16th of February, it was a silent morning. Singapore, or Syonan, was silent. The whole colony was filled with grief, anger, disappointment and fear. How could their so-called masters fail them? The British who was so mighty in their eyes lost to the Japanese and deserted them. I was on my way to school when I heard someone speaking with a loudspeaker in the direction of my school.

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“Listen everybody, from next week onwards the students in this school must stop school. This building would be used as a screening center. The teachers must find other jobs. Follow orders or…” as the Japanese officer spoke, one of my school master, Brother Lampard, rushed forward and tried to stab the officer using a knife.

Everyone at the area was breathless. The officer was dumbfounded and confused. Brother Lampard pierced the knife through his gut. The officer collapsed, before the Japanese soldiers nearby shot the courageous man with their bayonets. Brother Lampard fell dead. The soldiers then stabbed him several times with their deadly weapons. The bystanders were shocked at this gruesome sight. At that moment, something changed my feelings. I was weakened, psychologically and mentally. I was practically under the control of the Japanese due to my fear.

I ran frantically back home. When the whole story was poured out to my parents, they shook their heads sadly and sank. From my mother’s expression, I knew something was up her mind. Out of a sudden, I thought of something. The screening centers must have been built to sort out the Chinese which were anti-Japanese and which were not!

By now my mind was made up. I was forced quit school. Everyday in my life was now about fear and hunger. As the food rations given were scarce, we resorted to stealing. The Japanese soldiers were living much better off than us, so we decided stealing some food from their stock would do no harm. My parents were against this, but I had formed a group of young boys to do the job together. We always had an excuse to do so. The first seven times were successful; we were not caught. However, the eighth time proved fatal…

15th February 144, it was the second the anniversary of the surrender of the British. The group was preparing to snoop to a Japanese warehouse to get some little handfuls of rice or some fresh fruits and vegetables. “Don’t do it, Zhi Ming, it’s dangerous,” my mother pleaded. Those were the words I heard from her for one and a half months.

As we were approaching the warehouse, the sky turned dark as night fell. We approached cautiously the empty building. Japanese soldiers had left. The only way in was now through a small hole at the back of the building covered with empty crates. It was only four times the size of a mouse hole. We could fit in easily as we were malnutritioned and thin. When we went in, a rude shock was awaiting for us. Men with helmets, armor and bayonets were staring down on us! The Japanese soldiers were patrolling inside the warehouse. We were arrested at once. It was not only until the next month that we were released.

Besides stealing, our group was also planned attacks on the Japanese bases. We sometimes made some little ‘bombs’ out of some little explosives. The efforts were little but the effects were devastating. The Japanese soldiers fell injured. We did this as a token of our hatred for them. Ever since the British left, the Japanese were crushing on the poor residents. We decided to take revenge. We were never caught, and the figure of Brother Lampard dying inspired me to go on.

The Japanese were overpowered. By the time the two atomic bombs dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, the Japanese were quite demoralized. When the war ended, my whole life had changed. A 1-year-old-boy became an outlaw. I had learnt a lot during the war. Peace was no longer in my mind. Something else had taken its place, and that something was human rights and liberty.

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