Devotion to a Calling: Far-East Flying and Survival with 62 Squadron RAF by Harley Boxall Joe Bamford

Author:Harley Boxall, Joe Bamford
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: HISTORY / Military / Aviation
ISBN: 9781844685561
Publisher: Pen and Sword
Published: 2010-06-15T04:00:00+00:00

Day Seven – Wednesday 10 April

We woke up with a start when a tom-tom suddenly started booming; but after a few minute it ceased and, waiting in silence for some time, we returned to an uneasy sleep. The soft light of dawn filtered through the bamboo walls of our hut, and we took stock of our surroundings. The single room was about ten feet square by six feet high and was completely unfurnished, except for a framed print of some gentleman in what appeared to be an admiral’s uniform, highly coloured in the eastern style, which hung on one of the walls.

We tried to decipher certain hieroglyphics which surrounded the portrait, but they were certainly not in Malay script. An emblem surmounted the picture and it dawned on us that it must be the badge of Siam. If this meant we were on a Siamese island, our troubles were not yet over as Siam was a neutral country and we were in imminent danger of being interned.

Our cogitations were interrupted by the door being pushed open and a native entered bringing a tray of rice and dried fish and three vessels of weak tea. We made a hearty breakfast of this meal, meanwhile discussing the immediate problem. Having got so far, we certainly had no intention of being interned in Siam if a possible alternative presented itself.

Shortly afterwards, about twenty ferocious looking Malays crowded into the room and squatted down, filling the room to overflowing. I opened the conversation by trying to convey to them our thanks for their hospitality, food and shelter, although most of my vocabulary consisted of the words ‘Terima kasi’ meaning ‘Thank you’, with suitable signs and actions. Not one of them could understand English. Then I tried to convey to them that we would like them to take us to Alor Star, but I gleaned from their murmurings amongst themselves and their facial expressions that they were not keen on the idea. I persevered on this line, a few more Malay words coming into my head and told them that they would be paid for their services.

I mentioned a sum of $60 – why $60 I cannot remember as this was equivalent to only £7 sterling, a very cheap ransom for the return of three fully trained aircrew. However it seemed a lot of money to them, and at least we had reached some basis for discussion. I could not get over their reluctance to take us to the mainland; and then it occurred to me that, if we were in fact on a Siamese island, they would probably be diffident to land on foreign territory. They kept mentioning the name ‘Pulo Taratau’ – another island but this name meant absolutely nothing to us.

I tried to visualize the map and came to the conclusion that we were probably north of the international boundary and Taratau was another island laying between our present haven and the mainland; and, not recognizing the name, was also more likely to be Siamese territory.

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