On January 7th 1942 (80 years ago to the day) seven New Zealand coast watchers and one English colonial administrator arrived in Japan on the passenger ship Yamagiri Maru. They were the first allied POWs (Prisoners of War) to arrive in Japan. The next seven days were not ones of the brutality and near starvation that one reads about occurring to Japanese POWs in World War II. This was an interlude of of good food and fair treatment. It was a bit of a weird time. It could not last.
After Pearl Harbour was attacked on December 8th 1941 - heralding the Japanese and US entries into World War II - Japanese Naval marines landed at the atoll of Butaritari (aka Makin). On December 11 the three New Zealand coast-watchers, who were stationed at the Northern end of the atoll, on the Islet of Bikati, were captured. My father, one of the coast-watchers on Bikati, once described a Japanese bayonet charge at the three coast-watchers, lunging at them and stopping with the tips of the bayonets at the coast-watcher's throats. My father was knocked to the ground by a rifle butt because he had a cigarette in his mouth.
At nearby Makin Meang (December 12) the Japanese came at midnight for the coast watchers stationed there. Later on on December 24 the Japanese landed at Abaiang taking the lone coastwatcher, Syd Wallace, prisoner.
The seven men included my father Michael Menzies as well as my uncle Jack Menzies; also L.E.H. (aka Larry or Pat) Muller and Basil Were. These men were NZ army soldiers. As well the group included NZ Post and Telegraph Department signalmen/radio operators: John Jones, Max McQuinn, Syd Wallace and the English Colonial administrator Charles Fulford-Williams.
On the journey to Japan they were held in a curtained off area in the hold of the ship. The ship was carrying Japanese nationals from Peru and South America back to Japan. During the journey the prisoners lived off their own food that they had when captured and managed to trade some with the Japanese on board. While conditions were uncomfortable, they were not harshly treated and were regularly allowed up on deck for fresh air.
As the Yamagiri Maru sailed into Tokyo Bay, the captain allowed the prisoners of war up on deck to see the spectacular sight of Mt Fuji in all its glory. For my father it was the first time in his life that he had seen snow - albeit from a distance. The men's clothing kit was mainly tropical, so they felt the cold of a Japanese winter, especially since the few warmer items that they had were with their kit held by their captors elsewhere on board.
After the ship docked on a cold drizzling winter's afternoon with a bitter breeze, they were transferred to a launch and were then taken on quite a long trip across Tokyo Bay to Yokohama. They stood, under close guard, on the dock as snow flurries interspersed with cold cold rain fell. They were not harshly treated and were supplied poncho type covering which while not doing much about the cold, at least kept them dry. A lorry pulled up and they were loaded onto the hooded back with their guard detail.
The prisoners were now taken on a ride through streets of a busy metropolis. They were surprised at how modern the place was. Women in modern western style dress as well as some in more traditional kimonos. Eventually they turned into the narrow hilly streets as the truck climbed out of the harbour. After a while they turned into a driveway with the sign reading "Yokohama Racing Club". It was a horse racing track with grandstands. When I followed my father's footsteps in 2012, the old grandstand still stood in what was once the Yokohama Racing Club, the Negishi track; these days it is a park. Entry to the grandstand is forbidden.
On arrival the POWs were taken into a kitchen with a warm fire and a large vat of cooking going on. They were well treated by the staff and given a warm meal after which they sat around a warm hearth in polite conversation, across the language barrier, before "lights out", when they slept on benches with warm blankets. The racetrack was to be a sort of processing centre for foreign nationals, as was evidenced the next morning when off in the distance they saw a group of Europeans in business clothing. But these civilians were too far away to be able to make contact. It is more than likely that these were business and diplomatic people caught up in the war, waiting for some type of repatriation agreement (which happened later in 1942.)
The NZ coastwatchers and the Englishman were then loaded onto their truck and taken to an area of Yokohama called The Bluff, which had been built as a well to do western-style enclave. At an address believed to be possibly 450 The Bluff, they turned into a driveway of a house that had belonged to a Mr Dennison of the Standard Oil Company.
In 2012 on my journey to Japan, I tried, with the help of a Japanese researcher to find the exact location of 450 The Bluff to see if the house still stood. We were not successful, my companion explained that the old Japanese numbering system was based not on street location but rather on the order in which dwellings were built, so this was an impediment because what was 450 the Bluff in January 1942, might not be the same in a more modern numbering system. But we did find an enclave of lavish European houses and buildings such as a beautiful old Anglican Church. These buildings gave me some sense of what these first POWs in Japan might have felt. Perhaps a combination of comfort at familiar architecture mixed with a grinding fear of their immediate future.
On arrival at the Dennison house the POWs came under the command of Naval lieutenant Shinda and seven guards. They were put to work shifting furniture and setting up a large room where they each had a camp stretcher type of bed: comparative luxury. They had a reasonable amount of freedom to wander around the grounds, except for rooms in the house and areas that were forbidden. An elderly Japanese couple who had once waited on the Dennison family provided meals. The meals, whilst not large in quantity, were still of excellent quality and nutritious. Halfway through their time in Yokohama they were joined by Arthur Griffiths an American radio operator from the US embassy in Tsingtao, China. (Griffiths was later repatriated as diplomatic staff after anxiously waiting out six months in Zentsuji POW camp. There was some speculation as to what his real role at the Embassy had been which he seemed secretive about – so I was told!)
Over the next six to seven days a stream of officials and military came to view the celebrity prisoners. Journalists from around the world photographed them. Apparently their pictures appeared in South American Newspapers. I have tried searching archives but have not found any of these particular photographs. I have found poor quality versions of Japanese newspaper articles where their photographs appeared when they were "on the move" to their POW camp destination. It is obvious that during this time in Yokohama that they were propaganda subjects. One Japanese paper reported that the prisoners, when questioned by their reporter, replied with "typical British cunning". Apart from newspaper reporters, a steady stream of Japanese officials and officers came simply to look at them. They were objects of curiosity.
On January 8 (a month after the Pearl Harbour attack) the Japanese had a large aerial display in which the coastwatchers – true to their "profession" - counted 486 planes.
They were interrogated, without any violence, about installations in Fiji, particularly Suva. My father told me of his turn. A large map of Suva was placed before him and the high-ranking Japanese officers asked questions about where various installations were located (they had been stationed in Suva before their mission.) Dad made it up as he went along. Much to my father's horror a few days later he was taken again for interrogation by the same Japanese officers and was asked the exact same questions. He could not remember what locations he had given the previous time so had to make it up again as. When I asked Dad what he had been thinking his only reply was a look to the heavens and the words "Oh Gawd ..." In communications with his fellow coastwatcher, John Jones, after Dad's death in 1999, he said they all faced the same interrogation and made the same mistakes and were all expecting the worst after this episode, but nothing happened.
The good treatment continued, but this episode in their captivity was coming to an end as they were about to be moved on to their final destination. Prior to leaving they broke into the library in the house and stole some reading material. My father told me that he stole "Gulliver's Travels" which somehow seems appropriate.
They were placed in the back of a truck with their guards and transported to the railway station. Once again, as on their initial journey to The Bluff, they were surprised by the contrast of ancient Japan with modern Western style. This aspect surprised them as they had not expected a modern Western-style society. They saw "Madam Butterfly"-style kimonos next to modern western-style fashions. The POWs were to travel on public transport to Zentsuji POW camp on the Island of Shikoku. It was a 20-hour journey, largely by train. Lieutenant Shinda treated them well, buying them food and even an ice cream. His English, while not great, was good enough to communicate. As was the case with some of their guards, who made sure that they had good seats and were not intruded upon by nosy locals.
As they travelled south on the train they once again had a splendid view of Mt Fuji as the sun set. And while their second-class seating was not very comfortable, they did manage to nod off. But all the time there existed a gnawing wariness and concern about the future. They were heading into what Ray Parkin in his biographical trilogy of his life as a Japanese POW, has described (using a line from Shakespeare) as "... into the smoother"; the suffocating, grinding boredom and ruthlessness that their lives were to become.
On January 15 they arrived at the Zentsuji POW camp on the Island of Shikoku in the Kagawa prefecture. It was a cold windswept day with small flurries of snow mixed with freezing rain as they stood around while in the warm office, Lieutenant Shinda of the Imperial Japanese Navy (IJN) did the paper work,and handing his charges over to the Imperial Japanese Army. Shinda had been gentlemanly towards the prisoners, his background was from the very professional IJN. The Army was a different proposition as Lieutenant Shinda recognised in his departing words with what was a warning of sorts: "Nippon army very uncomfortable - Nippon army very strong". So their three years and nine months of captivity were now really to begin.
These were the first POWs to arrive in Japan, and at this POW camp. There new surroundings were cold and Spartan. They slept on wooden benches with thin tatami mats and five very thin threadbare blankets that did nothing to ward off the cold. That night they were woken by a loud commotion. It was the arrival of hundreds of Americans captured on Guam. Many of these men became close comrades of The New Zealander and partners in crimes aimed at survival. Over time many were transferred to other POW camps, as well as some of the New Zealanders.
The contrast between the week at the The Dennison house and time in POW camps was like night and day.
Based on the premise that the Red Cross inspected it, Zentsuji POW camp is sometimes erroneously described as a "Show Camp". Not wanting to overstate things, but such a description is inaccurate and an insult to those who were held at Zentsuji. Yes it was at the better end in the scale of "bad", but this was due to other factors. There was no such thing as a "show camp"; all POW camps in Japan came under the same rules and system of administration. The Red Cross visited a number of POW camps in Japan, including Zentsuji. In January 1942 Zentsuji was the only POW camp in Japan. Early on conditions, while strict, were not as harsh as they were to become. At this time the diet left the POWs hungry, but not starving, that was to come later. As were the illnesses of poor diet and starvation: Beriberi and malnutrition.
By about October 1942, after diplomatic staff and nurses held in Zentsuji POW camp were exchanged and repatriated, a change began to occur. POWs discovered that a new Japanese supply officer in the POW camp was systematically pilfering off already marginal supplies intended for the POWs and selling them on the black market. On top of this the Japanese had already reduced rations by 10 per cent on the false premise of saving food for winter. At the same time the attitude of the guards became more and more severe and unpredictable. That there were not a high number of deaths in this camp was largely down to the medical staff led by Lt Cmdr Dr J.H. Van Peenan of the US Navy, and those POWs involved in smuggling activities a great risk to themselves. Some of the New Zealanders were at the forefront of these activities.
There were guards in Zentsuji who as individuals treated the POWs with respect - one in particular who, by coincidence after the war, became the architect of the New Zealand embassy in Tokyo. But there were also the guards who mercilessly took out their anger and frustrations on the POWs. The worst was a sergeant of the guards known as "Clubfist". His arm had been disfigured in China and was encased in a hard leather-bound brace which he used as an instrument of random attack on the POWs. Daily "slappings" were the common order of the day and were not considered as beatings. My father and an American cohort were punished by having human excrement poured over them and not being allowed to wash for two weeks - an event recorded in his medical records after the war.
Some serious beatings and time in a cell known as "the brig" were among the more serious standard punishments. POWs were stripped of all but their marginal underwear. The floor was covered in dirt and full of insects which bit in summer, and freezing cold in winter. Food was half ration, overly salted without any water. When my uncle Jack Menzies who suffered from severe asthma, spent time in the Brig an Australian, (believed to be Captain D. Millican) went "over the fence" with a container of water to help alleviate his asthma. An American, "Red" Newton, was caught stealing some sugar, his punishment was brutal and he ended up in isolation in a common prison for criminals. My own father was beaten up four times, there are eyewitness accounts for three of these.
The difference in treatment in various POW camps in Japan was partly due to location. For example if your POW camp/prison was rurally located you were probably better off than a POW camp located next to a coal mine or steel mill. Another difference was the local administration of the camp. The real power and treatment was usually in the hand of the sergeant of the guards.
So, in this light, for the seven Kiwi coastwatchers and one British administrator, their first week of captivity at the Dennison House was indeed a unique and curious interlude when placed in the context of comparison to daily life in general as a POW in Japan. Although the were not aware of it until the war was over, these men were fortunate indeed. Seventeen of their comrades along with five other British subjects, on islands to the south, were months later rounded up and executed by beheading at Tarawa by on October 15, 1942.
None of the men who survived were left unaffected by this time in their youth. Depression and illness were common issues that they had to face once they returned to normal civilian life. Some required periods of hospitalisation throughout their lives in dealing with the psychological trauma of their time as POWs. The effects of beriberi periodically reappeared in the years after the war so that my father and uncle were in bare feet on their return to Auckland in October 1945. Not many had a tale to tell of first-class treatment for one week, before their real incarceration began, that these seven New Zealanders and one Brit and one American had to tell. They were the first allied POWs to arrive in Japan in World War II.
• Kevin Menzies' late father Michael spent most of World War II interned in a prisoner-of-war camp in Japan.