A second year in Java: a harsh reality for a POW: on March 8, 1942, the Allied forces on Java surrendered to the Japanese it was the beginning of 42 months of hell for a Canadian RAF officer

Esprit de Corps, June, 2009 by Robert Wyse

The following is an excerpt from the book Bamboo Cage: The P.O.W. Diary of Flight Lieutenant Robert Wyse, 1942-1943, edited by Jonathan F. Vance and published by Goose Lane Editions in April 2009.

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February 9, 1943--Many of our erks had a bad time of it on parade today, failing to take their P.T. exercises too seriously. Some of the guards had sneaked up behind in the hope of catching them out. We are being pushed into another billet today to make more room for our valiant wing commanders. The rains continue, worse, if anything. At any moment of the day or night without warning down it comes. Shouts and a mad scramble to get one's clothing off the lines if during the day. Usually what one has gained in one hour of sunshine is lost in a few minutes of flying spray during the storm. Getting plenty of news now, of the Nippon variety. We have two papers coming in daily in quantity. Also one is able to buy fruit and eggs if one has the money. I happen to be suffering at the moment until pay day. The boys are developing serious eye troubles, warning re: scabies. Shaving every fourth or fifth day now as I am out of soap. Teda apa--what does it matter. My ailment has been quiescent for some time and I'm holding my fingers crossed. Doctor, inspecting an erk's eyes: 'Read the third line of letters on the chart.' Erk, looking around the room: 'What chart?'

March 4, 1943--Almost a month since I made an entry in this log, not that there has been nothing of interest to record, but because I am quite worried about my eyes. They are failing and hundreds of the boys are the same. Have had no tobacco since the middle of last month. Foods available have been cancelled repeatedly and the prices have gone up in smoke. I went broke so early last month that I'm trying to be very careful this month, with prices so high. The hell of it is there always seems to be someone who needs my money worse than I do. We had to move into another billet, and although we have a little more space, the place is filthy dirty, dark, and depressing, no air and hotter than the ring-tails. Three of our lads from C.B.Z. came into camp yesterday. They have beriberi, acute cases. The doctors at the hospital sent them back to camp in the hope that there would be more food for them here than they were getting at the hospital. Someone kidded me about rice on my being posted overseas. Little did I dream I'd have to absorb the stuff three times a day, day in and day out for one solid year. With the cutting out of our rice bread, our variety has deteriorated to pap, pap We had to move into another billet, and although we have a little more space, the place is filthy dirty, dark, and depressing, no air and hotter than the ring-tails and rice, with a weak and watery stew in the evening. The stew is coloured water with a few grains of carrot or greens of the spinach or leaf variety thrown in. Rarely one gets a surprise in the form of a tiny morsel of meat (buffalo). Have been able to augment once or twice with a few katjang idjoe beans.

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March 7, 1943--Went sick this a.m. but it was a Sunday. One is not supposed to go sick on Sundays as it is the doctor's day off, so I shall have to postpone my illness until tomorrow.

March 14, 1943--There was no pap until 10 a.m. When one is half-starved that makes for a long, long wait. The Nips have been increasing outside working parties considerably and even have the boys out working nights. Three men fell off the dock the other night in the darkness, another injured. Have been S.I.Q. for one week. Wing commanders asked to take over the companies to allow the junior officers more time for other duties, of which there is a multitude. And of course this makes for more crabbing than ever. My buddy is practically blind and I have to do everything for him, prepare his food, roll and light his cigs, etc. He can't even make the urinal now. There were a few cigarettes in on Thursday and mine are gone already. On Monday and Tuesday nights Nip propaganda pictures were shown to us. As no one attended, every individual in the camp was asked to write a thesis on the showing and have it in to the camp office by Wednesday noon. I hope they don't scan too closely the assortment of rubbish that was turned in. To add to my sorrows I now have a wizard attack of prickly heat--scratch-a-like-a-hell-a.

March 21, 1943--We are getting some marvellous sunrises on the morning tenko. We line up with the dawn and while the Nip counts our noses, watch the beautiful changes in colouring through the low hanging clouds. When the count is finished we pay our morning obeisance to the Nippon god in Tokyo. For some time we were able to get away with a 'Good morning, President Roosevelt,' but the Nips became suspicious concerning the loud roar which went up every time we bowed to their god and about a hundred of the boys got beaten up one morning. The United States lies over to the east as well as Japan. Am reading a couple [of] hours a day to my pal, who is almost blind. My eyes do not seem to be any worse and I'm keeping my fingers crossed. As there are few books, I've been reading him some of the junk I've been trying to write. He doesn't seem to notice any difference.