Everyone knows that VE day was 8 May 1945. Everyone remembers it as the end of World War II. 2020 was the 75th anniversary of the defeat of the Fascist regime in Europe and it should, quite rightly, be remembered. The war did not end in May 1945 though. Fierce battles still raged in the far east. People tend to think of the war with Japan as an American affair, something separate to our war, but tens of thousands of British troops and Commonwealth allies from Australia, India and New Zealand fought against the retreating Japanese army for months after the war in Europe ended. They were the forgotten army and VJ Day is the forgotten victory.
On 15 August Commando and I took a short walk to the church at the top of the hill to stand for a moment and think about those men and the sacrifice they made. The far eastern conflict was one that few British men could have ever been prepared for. The humid weather, monsoons and impenetrable jungle made things difficult enough in places like Burma, Java and Singapore without the added fear of being captured by an enemy who were known to treat their prisoners of war as slave labour and would rather die than surrender themselves. On 1 April 1945, just over a month before VE Day, a quarter of the civilian population of Okinawa died, many in mass suicides organised by the Imperial Japanese Army. This was the Japanese attitude to defeat.
On 26 July 1945, when President Truman told Japan, “Surrender or suffer prompt and utter destruction,” Japan declined. On 6 August The US dropped the world’s first atomic bomb on Hiroshima. Truman warned Japan to surrender or to “expect a rain of ruin from the air, the like of which has never been seen on this earth.” Despite the USSR declaring war on Japan and invading, Japan declined again. A second atomic bomb was dropped on Nagasaki and Emperor Hirohito finally agreed to surrender. It was a horrific end to a horrific war and for many men and women on all sides it came too late.
One of those men was another of the Haley cousins I told you about last time. Harold Edward Haley was born on 2 February 1915 the son of Harold and Alice, my grandfather’s youngest brother and his wife. Harold had been a stoker in the Royal Navy during the Great War. He lived in Southcliffe Road Bevois Valley. Along with his brothers Gerald and Gilbert, Harold joined the Royal Air Force Volunteer Reserve at the very beginning of the war as an Aircraftman First Class. Harold was a butcher in civilian life, so, like my father, he was probably allocated a job as a cook. He was sent to Burma.
In December 1942 Hong Kong fell and the Japanese advanced through Malaya. By 16th January 1942 all Air Force Squadrons, Units and Station Staff had been driven back to Singapore Island and the evacuation of ground staff to Java began. Singapore fell on 15 February. On 28th February, soon after midnight, the Japanese landed at three places on Java. On 17 March 1942 Harold was captured. It is likely he and the other captured men were made to repair the wrecked airfields on Java. When this was done he was crammed into the Hell Ship Dainichi Maru with 115 other Airmen.
The airmen arrived at the Mukaishima camp in Hiroshima on 27 November. Their fate was to work in the Hitachi Shipyard. Twenty three of those one hundred and sixteen men died in the camp. Many of the deaths happened immediately, or shortly after they arrived due to their weakened condition from the terrible journey they had to endure. Harold was amongst them. He died on 21 January 1943 from enteritis, colitis and malnutrition. The remains of the dead were cremated and, in October 1945, many of them were recovered and reburied with fitting memorials.
After our visit to the churchyard, Harold was on my mind. Like Leonard, I never met him and I have no photograph of him but reading about the things he went through and thinking how easily my lovely dad could have ended up in the same situation, I felt close to him. On 20 August Commando and I went for a little walk in the parks in town. It was a beautiful late summer day and the wisteria was in bloom for the second time.
Once we’d enjoyed the heady scent of the wisteria, we took a short detour to Grosvenor Square where a memorial to the men of the Burma Campaign is hidden away. Unlike many of the memorials in the city, this one seems to be largely forgotten. I used to pass it by quite often when I worked in this area but the words inscribed on it have never quite felt as poignant as they did that afternoon. “When you go home tell them of us and say, for your tomorrow we gave our today.”
As the Japanese did not adhere to the Geneva Convention for the treatment of prisoners, or the duty to inform the proper authorities of the names of captured prisoners, it is unlikely that Harold and Alice knew their son had been captured and had died for a very long time. The average time taken to send lists of Prisoners of War was eighteen months. Occasionally, the prisoners were allowed to write short letters (limited to twenty five words). Survivors have told how they thought long and hard about what to write to their loved ones and how they later discovered their heartfelt thoughts had been burned, not posted. Trying to read and censor them was just too much trouble for the Japanese guards.
Harold and Alice may not have known that Harold had died until after the war ended. This may explain why his name does not appear on the Southampton cenotaph. Sadly, my efforts to get it added have, so far, been in vain. As I am the only person still alive who knows his story, it is possible that it may never be added. It seems a terrible shame that someone who gave so much is only remembered in the country where his life was so cruelly ended. Harold and Alice certainly never had the chance to travel to Japan to visit his grave. Maybe one day, I will be able to go in their place.
Lovely words on the memorial but how sad that your brave uncle is not remembered on the Southampton cenotaph. What reason do you get for the refusal to add his name?
It is sad that Harold’s name is not on the memorial. I have been in contact with the department responsible over the last year. I think the COVID restrictions have made things slower than they need have been but I have provided what proof I have that he was a Southampton citizen and that he died as a prisoner of war in Japan. This is currently being considered but it seems that adding names is a complicated business and names are usually only added in batches. I would dearly love to see his name there though.
It’s a dreadful story and very sad that it must be one of thousands.
They certainly suffered terribly. It seems sad that they have been largely forgotten.
The poignancy of this post is heartwarming to the soul. Don’t give up on your efforts for his name inclusion on the memorial. Good luck, and if you keep writing, I’ll keep reading.
Thank you. It is such a sad tale but I am determined to see Harold’s name added to the memorial if I can. I think he deserves that much. I certainly will keep writing.