Arthur Osborne - Tribulation #3

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TRIBULATION

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The Japanese entered Thailand on December 8th, 1941.

After a few minutes token resistance the Thais surrendered and

became their allies. As I afterwards learned, they had previously

asked for help from Singapore but had been told that they would

have to help themselves. I think it was on December 7th that

the Consulate sent word around advising us to leave the country;

certainly it was too late to do so. The few who tried were turned

back before they reached the frontiers. Moreover, the banks

were closed so that it was impossible to draw out money.

In order to save the expenditure of manpower in creating

a civilian administration and of the troops in holding down a

conquered country, the Japanese decided to treat Thailand as a

self-governing ally, and as a result their troops kept strict

discipline and there were no atrocities, as there were in China

and Malaya. I took a cycle rickshaw and went to the university,

but there were Japanese officers and troops all over the place.

In the university grounds I saw some officers with no trousers

on, standing fishing in the klongs, the canals that run everywhere

alongside the roads in Bangkok. It was impossible to resume

duty, so I came back. After a day or two Europeans were placed

under house arrest. Gradually they were rounded up and taken

to an internment camp. My turn did not come till January

11th, one of the last. It was about time, because my salary had

not been paid and I could not get out to cash a cheque.

While communications were still open I had received a

letter from my wife telling me that Catherine and Adam had

gone to Bhagavan and asked him to bring me back safely and

he had smiled and nodded. From then on I never doubted

that I should come out of it alive. There was also a letter from

Catherine, one of the most moving I have ever received:

“Daddy, you will love Bhagavan. When he smiles everybody

must be so happy.”

 

We were interned in the premises of the University of

Political and Moral Sciences (not that in which I had taught).

There were several long buildings on the bank of the river, a

field big enough to play basketball, a gravel road running the

length of the camp. Some of the buildings were partitioned off

into cubicles where the married couples and a few other

fortunate ones enjoyed at least visual privacy, although every

sound could be overheard; most of us had beds in common

dormitories, with a little floor space each, which we fenced off

as best we could with our belongings. There was a large shed at

the back where we set up stoves and did a little private cooking,

although our regular meals were sent in; also a shop where various

articles from town made their appearance or could be ordered.

After some time cash allowances began to be received through

the Swiss consul. We were allowed to elect a camp committee

and president to control the internal running of the camp. At

first we were badly over-crowded, but after some time the

Americans and Dutch and a few others were evacuated, and we

ended up with not much more than a hundred.

 

The Thai, always keeping in mind that our side might win

the war and hold them responsible, refused to make the camp

over to the Japanese, so there were no atrocities. Indeed, one of

the main evils to contend with was boredom. Any one who

knew anything that others didn’t started classes; books were

circulated; amateur gardeners took over plots around the various

buildings and made ornamental gardens. Towards the end, when

victory and evacuation were visibly approaching, my garden

became an excellent symbol to me of life in the world — I gave

it daily care and had real interest in bringing it to perfection,

while at the same time prepared to leave it at a moment’s notice.

We knew well enough that victory was approaching because

a small group of internees had taken the risk of smuggling in a

wireless set and were skilful enough to keep it from the notice

not only of the authorities but the rest of the internees also —

unfortunately a necessary precaution. The news was leaked out

so cleverly that we never knew from what source it came, only

that it turned out to be reliable.

 

There were occasional Japanese inspections but the Thai

commandant always warned us beforehand, so that anything

that might cause trouble or be considered insufficiently austere

might be concealed or passed out of the camp. The Thai soon

had no more love for the Japanese than we had. Even though

there were few outrages, their arrogance was insufferable.

The Thai had the bright idea of keeping their one and

only submarine safe by anchoring it alongside our camp.

Directly opposite us, on the banks of the river, were railway

marshalling yards with stocks of rice, rubber and various other

commodities, and it was hoped that our presence would

safeguard them also; but it didn’t work out that way.

 

Thailand had been forced to declare war on Britain and

America and a florid announcement was made that the Allied

bases had been pushed too far back to be able to bomb Bangkok.

For quite a while it was so, and then the tide turned and fleets

of American Fortresses began coming over, by night at first and

then by day also, when the Japanese fighters no longer dared to

go up during a raid. Whether headquarters knew about

our camp or not, they certainly knew about the submarine and

marshalling yards. A number of times they came over and set

the whole of the opposite bank aflame with incendiaries. The

submarine was not hit, but after one or two near misses, it

sought shelter elsewhere. After bombing the opposite bank the

huge Fortresses would zoom up over our camp, so low that

they seemed to be skimming the roofs, their under-bellies

glowing red from the reflected flames. Several times, when smoke

blanketed the river, bombs dropped on our side also. We heard

their deep, heavy thud around us. In the daytime we would see

them actually leaving the planes and swooping down — always

on a trajectory. Twice, bombs fell within the camp precincts,

but I was not the only one who preferred the risk of bombs to

that of snakes and scorpions. There were many who never went

underground. The flimsy modern buildings, with ample door

and window space, stood up to the blasts better than more solid

structures might have done.

 

I neither gave nor attended any of the numerous classes,

but it was in camp that I learned astrology. One of the internees,

Leslie, was a lifelong addict and brought a whole trunk full of

books in with him — all of Alan Leo and Carter and a number

of other books, including a good one on the progressed

horoscope, besides bound volumes of periodicals. Making a

purposeful break in my non-reading epoch, I went steadily

through them, studying and making notes. This took me some

months, after which I reverted to my non-reading. There were

books circulating in camp, but I did not borrow or read them.

Leslie’s interest had remained mainly theoretical; he had very

seldom actually attempted a horoscope. I, of course, wanted to

practise, and under my influence he also began to. We made

horoscopes for everyone who wanted them in camp; and a

number of internees, pleased with the product, asked for them

also for wives or children or others outside.

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taken from Arthur Osborne's MY LIFE & QUEST