my own experiences without ever feeling oppressed in any way by her whatsoever. She always used to say that she wanted me to be what she described as a “Free Spirit, responsible and able to think for myself, and to be absolutely loyal to our family, even to my Father who had treated her so badly.” For this free attitude and strong moral upbringing, I was and always have been deeply grateful, as I could never stand a cloying manner which could have cramped my character. At the same time however, she would give me great liberal doses of her mind, and plentiful scoldings , but also she would open her feelings and give me her honest philosophy, and also just by the example of her quiet dignity, her manner, quick wittedness and common sense, I was to learn volumes as she would converse with me as though I were a young adult and very much an equal. Shortly after we had joined Dresden, there was an incident in the middle of the night which could have been fatally serious. On the men’s deck area, at night a cargo net was stretched across the deck, abaft of the forecastle bulkhead, aft of which no one was allowed. To enforce this were two guards each with a Luger pistol, a tommy gun and grenades. In the night three men went to go to the latrines which were forehead of the net, and then suddenly one of the guards panicked and opened fire missing them by inches. The bullets hit the forehead bulkhead where Capt. Stratford was asleep with others. Had the bullets been about nine inches to right several men asleep there could have been shot and either killed or wounded through the open door. Needless to say Capt Stratford was furious and a protest was made, and for the rest of the trip the trigger happy guard in question was relegated to become a galley assistant. We continued our voyage heading northesatwards in calm seas and fine weather with a heavy Indian ocean swell the vessel which rocked the horizon gently up and down in a never ending gentle manner. One afternoon about a week after we had embarked on “Dresden” in the far distance we could see our first sight of land since we had left Freemantle, as a hazy mountainous silhouette ahead. We now knew that we were approaching the “Sunda Straits” that separate Java from Sumatra. They ship ploughed its way towards it in the afternoon till dusk was falling, when we passed a pointed headland on our Port bow. Suddenly out of the shadows from behind a small island a warship appeared, and started flashing its Aldous light. The message that it sent was in standard International Code, “ Who are you? Please identify yourself. Where are you going?” Back came our reply, also in the same code which of course Malcolm Scott the Kirkpool’s radio operator and other officers amongst our prisoners could easily read: “We are “NDL Dresden”, proceeding direct to Yokohama”. So now we all knew our destination. It was not going to be in the steamy tropical sweatiness of Malaya, full of fevers and dysentery, but instead to Japan, in an alien country quiet different in culture from any Western tradition. The very thought of the future was quite numbing, knowing the reputation of the Japanese from so many of our passengers who had just recently escaped from Malaya , and everyone amongst us wondered how it would all end. Talk next day was quietly sober, and there was now a more reflective attitude which transcended all the normal jollity for the next few days, until we all gradually got accustomed to the news and realised that life has to go on, so one had better make the most of it whilst one could. Mother who was one of the few who had been to Japan in peacetime had found the Japanese correct and courteous, but that was quite different from being a prisoner under their military control as she was to bitterly discover.

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