Hiding out on Batam

Source: "Lifestyle"-The Star- 19 June 2005

BY DR WONG HECK SING

The war was going badly for the British. As more and more Singaporeans evacuated to Batam Island, all the news they brought was bad. This cast a deep despondency over us – there would be no hope of an early Allied victory.

The lunar new year, usually celebrated with much festivity, brought little cheer to us in Batam. We heard loud explosions coming from Singapore lasting for some hours, followed by an ominous silence.

Had Singapore fallen? Everybody had the same question. We refused to believe that this could possibly have happened. No less a person than Winston Churchill had said that Singapore would never be allowed to fall.

That evening, the first British troops arrived on Batam, confirming our worst fears. We met the soldiers, walking through Father’s rubber estate towards Sungei Panas village.

They were a dispirited lot and their faces told us a story of despair and defeat. They asked how they could get away from Batam. They hoped to sail to Java and they wanted a boat.

As they were walking, they were dislodging the firing pins from their guns. They threw the pins in one direction and the guns in the other. My brothers and I led them to the village headman, who told them to go to Big Company’s godown.

The soldiers numbering about 20 then parked themselves on the verandah of the godown. They were thoroughly worn out. When I inquired whether they had brought any food with them, they shook their heads.

I then went home, and asked Mother to prepare a large kettleful of hot coffee. I brought them the coffee and a tinful of Marie biscuits.

One of the soldiers asked me whether I could look after his pet dog, a fox terrier. I agreed. The dog was called Mickey. The dog was reluctant to follow me and I had to carry him home in my arms.

The British soldiers left Sungei Panas early the next morning. We heard that they had not managed to go very far, and were captured by the Japanese on Bum Island, which lay south of Batam. We also heard that they were sent back to Singapore as prisoners of war.

After the British soldiers left Sungei Panas, I noticed some of the younger villagers looking for something. I did not pay much attention to them until I was told they were looking for the guns the British had thrown away.

I thought it was very stupid of them to do such a thing. The news of British soldiers throwing away guns was bound to reach Japanese ears. They would surely come looking for the guns.

Anyway, I did not pay much attention as there was more pressing business. After Singapore fell, we knew that the Dutch army – Batam was part of the Dutch East Indies – would not be able to hold the Japanese back.

So for some time, we had been planning to move away from Sungei Panas village to a place less accessible to the Japanese. We heard the Ongs, the newly arrived Singaporeans staying at a brick bungalow, had similar plans to move. They were worried about the safety of their womenfolk.

They discussed the matter with a rubber estate supervisor who suggested they move to his boss’ other rubber estate, which lay next to Father’s rubber estate. That was the place where we had been doing the repairs to the hut, as it had not been occupied for some time.

We never expected the Japanese to come to Sungei Panas so soon, not to the village anyway. They must have had a well organised and efficient intelligence service. News of British soldiers throwing their guns away must have been relayed immediately to them.

When the Japanese came, the whole village was caught unawares. The Japanese were at our doorstep before we realised who they were.

There were two of them, accompanied by Indonesian guides. They appeared to be looking for something. We immediately guessed they were looking for the British guns.

They came to one of the bedrooms where we kept the books we had brought from Singapore. The books were mainly English books.

At once the Japanese faces changed. They looked grim and the leading man drew out his sword. I did not realise he was an officer until I saw that he had pips on his shoulders.

He ordered all of us out of the house. He then counted and found one of us missing. He shouted to me to get the missing person. I used sign language to indicate that the wanted person was ill.

Not believing me, the officer strode into the house to see for himself. Third Brother was in bed with a burning fever. At once the officer’s demeanour changed. His face which a moment ago was grim, now appeared kind and gentle

He bade me to fetch him a basin of cold water and proceeded to sponge Third Brother’s forehead. After a while he asked me to continue the sponging.

The officer left soon after, followed by the others. They were then seen sitting under a tree in the village, fanning themselves. The Indonesian guides pointed to Mr. Ong’s house and indicated that there were young women staying there.

The Japanese ignored the guides. They continued to sit under the tree. After a while they all left in their boat.

The Wongs and the Ongs had lucky breaks that day. The Japanese were known for their barbarism towards women in wartime. Fortunately the officer had a restraining influence on the other soldier and the Indonesian guides.

As to why the officer was so kind to Third Brother, we would never know. Perhaps he had a son in Japan.

The news of our luck soon spread, especially the news about the Ong womenfolk and people talked about it for a long time.

Following the visit by the Japanese, Father decided to shift as soon as possible to the rubber estate, even though the repairs to the hut were not completed. Father said, “The Japanese are unpredictable. They may come back to punish us for the English books. We can’t take any chances.”

We shifted that same day. So did the Ongs. They too thought the Japanese might return.

We completed the move in one day, locking up house at Sungei Panas village. The neighbours were curious, asking us the reason for our move. After our explanation, they agreed that it was the right thing to do. They never questioned the Ongs. They knew there were many women in the family.

Singaporean Dr Wong Heck Sing, 82, kept a journal while on Batam but lost it. This edited account was extracted from his self-published book, The Batam Years, which he wrote from memory 60 years later for his grandchildren.