9 September 1943
Today was another exciting day for me and my husband. My husband, Khun Heng, and I were smuggling bread, basic medicine, if we could find some, money and parcels containing bare essentials every two weeks or so into Changi Prison. My husband and I were pitied the prisoner held there. We heard that prisoners there were not particularly well-treated. So, we managed to buy some medicine for a large sum of money.
As we had very little banana notes left, we had to buy what we could afford for these prisoners. We were also trying our best to find food for the poor prisoners.The quality and quantity of rations were abysmal. However, we decided to smuggle a fraction of our rations for prisoners. At least they had something to eat there. At home, we found old clothes that both of us did not wear anymore. We thought to give them to the prisoners. I remembered vividly the last time we went to smuggled in some money for the prisoners two week ago. The stench of the clothing could be smelled from miles away. Giving them some fresh clothing would definitely maintain their will-which was very crucial for them to survive their captivity in one of the worst prison in Japanese-occupied Singapore.
With our old, but fresh and clean clothes, medicine and a couple of slices of bread, we set off for Changi Prison. After a long walk in the Singaporean humid and sunny weather, we could see it over in the horizon. We walked silently and stealthily towards Changi Prison without alerting the patrol and watch-out. We finally, after about 15 minutes of walking, we were at the barbed wire fence. The fence, a tall, sharp finished with lethal barbs looked menacing to us. When I look at it before, I thought how could me and my husband managed to smuggle in things for the prisoners. Now, the barbed fence was an easy obstacle to overcome. The larger obstacle was not to let Japanese patrol know that we are here. Any Japanese patrol that saw us would throw us both into captivity. Thanks to my husband sharp eagle eyes, we spotted some elephant grass to hide in. Any patrol would not be able to see us now. Due to the tall elephant grass, on both sides did not know that there was a small hole in the fence was pierced open by the many Banyan tree roots. We pushed in the small bags of medicine, clothes and food and signaled for the a British entree to come and collect without the Japanese knowing.
Suddenly, we heard sounds of footsteps. "It must be the patrol!" my husband told me. Glancing around, I managed to locate the patrol, three man strong armed with a fearsome arsenal of pistol, guns and bayonets. We decided to hide in the thick bush of elephant grass and lie flat on the brown earth. Thankfully, the Japanese did not see us. They walked past, causing my husband and I to give out a sigh of relief. We then waited for a few minutes before we ran out, but this time through the dense jungle back.
10 October 1943
Today could be the most saddening and depressing day of my life. The Kempeitai went to the Tan Tock Seng Hospital. My husband was there, cleaning the plates when they came. They grabbed his hand and pushed him out. I asked them, in Japanese,"Why are you arresting my beloved husband?!" I grabbed my husband other hand to pull him back. The Kempeitai didn't answer. A tall, stocky Kempeitai pushed me away, leaving me no choice to let go of my handsome husband's hand. By the time, I managed to catch up to them, I saw that they were very far away in distance. It was an impossible task for me to catch up, I thought. My face has sadness written all over it. My face was filled with tears. My husband...where was he...
Today was another exciting day for me and my husband. My husband, Khun Heng, and I were smuggling bread, basic medicine, if we could find some, money and parcels containing bare essentials every two weeks or so into Changi Prison. My husband and I were pitied the prisoner held there. We heard that prisoners there were not particularly well-treated. So, we managed to buy some medicine for a large sum of money.
As we had very little banana notes left, we had to buy what we could afford for these prisoners. We were also trying our best to find food for the poor prisoners.The quality and quantity of rations were abysmal. However, we decided to smuggle a fraction of our rations for prisoners. At least they had something to eat there. At home, we found old clothes that both of us did not wear anymore. We thought to give them to the prisoners. I remembered vividly the last time we went to smuggled in some money for the prisoners two week ago. The stench of the clothing could be smelled from miles away. Giving them some fresh clothing would definitely maintain their will-which was very crucial for them to survive their captivity in one of the worst prison in Japanese-occupied Singapore.
With our old, but fresh and clean clothes, medicine and a couple of slices of bread, we set off for Changi Prison. After a long walk in the Singaporean humid and sunny weather, we could see it over in the horizon. We walked silently and stealthily towards Changi Prison without alerting the patrol and watch-out. We finally, after about 15 minutes of walking, we were at the barbed wire fence. The fence, a tall, sharp finished with lethal barbs looked menacing to us. When I look at it before, I thought how could me and my husband managed to smuggle in things for the prisoners. Now, the barbed fence was an easy obstacle to overcome. The larger obstacle was not to let Japanese patrol know that we are here. Any Japanese patrol that saw us would throw us both into captivity. Thanks to my husband sharp eagle eyes, we spotted some elephant grass to hide in. Any patrol would not be able to see us now. Due to the tall elephant grass, on both sides did not know that there was a small hole in the fence was pierced open by the many Banyan tree roots. We pushed in the small bags of medicine, clothes and food and signaled for the a British entree to come and collect without the Japanese knowing.
Suddenly, we heard sounds of footsteps. "It must be the patrol!" my husband told me. Glancing around, I managed to locate the patrol, three man strong armed with a fearsome arsenal of pistol, guns and bayonets. We decided to hide in the thick bush of elephant grass and lie flat on the brown earth. Thankfully, the Japanese did not see us. They walked past, causing my husband and I to give out a sigh of relief. We then waited for a few minutes before we ran out, but this time through the dense jungle back.
10 October 1943
Today could be the most saddening and depressing day of my life. The Kempeitai went to the Tan Tock Seng Hospital. My husband was there, cleaning the plates when they came. They grabbed his hand and pushed him out. I asked them, in Japanese,"Why are you arresting my beloved husband?!" I grabbed my husband other hand to pull him back. The Kempeitai didn't answer. A tall, stocky Kempeitai pushed me away, leaving me no choice to let go of my handsome husband's hand. By the time, I managed to catch up to them, I saw that they were very far away in distance. It was an impossible task for me to catch up, I thought. My face has sadness written all over it. My face was filled with tears. My husband...where was he...
After a while, I finally realised that my husband could be in prison...or be executed.
The curiosity was killing me.
13 October 1943
Just now, I have just been in the Kempeitai Headquarters, the former YMCA building. I want to ask about my husband. Where is he? Has he died? Was he tortured severely? How was he? Entering the building, I saw the art-decor-style interior of the building. I saw a short but fit Kempeitai and I asked him about my husband.
"Where is my husband?" I asked desperately.
"I don't know anything about your husband." he answered with a default monotone.
"How is he?" I asked, again, hopeful to get an answer.
"I don't know anything about him!" he answered with a louder, more stern voice.
I bombarded him with questions about my husband. Despite my efforts, he denies knowledge of him. I thanked him, to prevent punishment, and walked out of the YMCA building. I started thinking wishfully. Maybe my husband is alive. Maybe my husband is treated decently. My mind was riddled with thoughts. My curiosity was ignited more and more. I couldn't control my emotions.
31 October 1943
I was finally able to manage a smile in 2 months. A Japanese man, probably a Kempeitai, told me that the Kempeitai wanted to tell me some details of my husband. All I had to do was go to the Kempeitai headquarters to find out. I walked to the YMCA building anxiously. Hopefully, my husband is still alive, I thought to myself. When I walked there, the short Kempeitai immediately recognized my face and stopped me.
Suddenly, the guards grabbed me. I tried my best to break free. However, my efforts were all to no avail. The guard's iron-like grasp pushed me into a cell. I had been captured. I'm currently in a stinky, small and cramped cell where 20 other male prisoners were also held in. I glanced around. I realised that I was the only female prisoner in this cell. The 'toilet' consists of a tap and a hole. Due to the tight space in the cell, there was no privacy whatsoever. Our businesses were all conducted in full view of every prisoner in the cell. Looking around more closely, there were puddles of stagnant water around the cell. The stench was coming from perspiration and human waste. No matter what....I must maintain the will to survive this captivity.
14 February 1944
Today, I was again as always stuck with the same 20 prisoners in this stinky cell. Interrogation happens commonly and the pain from water torture, beatings and electric shocks is a horrific experience. Today, I had to crawl through a small trapdoor to get interrogated by the Japanese torturers. The routine was the same every time. Our captors would ask us questions to get information from us. If they get no information from us whatsoever, they would torture you with many mind numbing methods,
Today, I am going to be interrogated. Our captors asked me what and how I smuggled into Changi Prison. I refused to answer. It would be against my will to answer the most basic questions that the Japanese would ask me. Now, my captors were about to pump water in my body. This was not a particularly good feeling to have water be pumped into my body, I thought. I shivered as the water hose started pumping water into my mouth. My stomach was getting filled with water. The feeling was terrible. Moments later, the water flow stopped. However, my stomach was brimming with water. I felt dizzy. I wanted to throw up. Suddenly, the water gushed out from my mouth. I closed my eyes tightly. I did not want to see the water come out from my mouth. When I thought the interrogation was over, the interrogator continued the interrogation by asking me more smuggling related question. All which I denied and refused to answer a single question.
He called for another guard nearby in Japanese,"Bring her husband from Cell Block C now!"
"Yes, sir!" replied the guard immediately.
Wait, what? This is different; they never called my husband to come to YMCA building for torture. Moreover, how is that torturous? We could finally be reunited together after many months. Although my face showed sadness, my heart was singing cries of joy for my husband to come.
After what seemed what eternity for me, my husband finally arrived. He had been dragged from the another cell to the YMCA building here. When I saw him, my eyes lit up with joy and happiness. However, all was not as it was, as the Japanese told him to kneel in front of me. Now, what? The interrogator, took the cut electric wire and was poised to shock me with electricity....in front of my husband! Before I knew it, the shock came. My body shook countless times and I could hear my husband crying nearby. I felt shameful. We were both getting tortured at the same time. After every shock, came a question for me to answer...which I would never answer. More and more shocks hit my body at different angles and positions. I felt compelled to answer but I couldn't waste my efforts to resist the interrogation before. My husband turned away, but the ferocious Kempeitai next to him forced him to face me and look at me. After one hour of hardcore torture on me and husband, they ceased the interrogation...for now. My husband was now dragged back to his cell. However, I could hear him crying over the distance. How could captivity be any worse...
15 May 1944
I was called out by the Japanese. I thought I am going to interrogated again. I felt a sinking feeling in my gut. However, the Japanese pointed to the exit of the YMCA building. Am I free? I think I am. As I walked out, that was no Japanese to put me back into my cell. I am free! I am finally able to feel the heat of the sun after more than 6 months. It seemed that I escaped from the very depths of hell.
Suddenly, the guards grabbed me. I tried my best to break free. However, my efforts were all to no avail. The guard's iron-like grasp pushed me into a cell. I had been captured. I'm currently in a stinky, small and cramped cell where 20 other male prisoners were also held in. I glanced around. I realised that I was the only female prisoner in this cell. The 'toilet' consists of a tap and a hole. Due to the tight space in the cell, there was no privacy whatsoever. Our businesses were all conducted in full view of every prisoner in the cell. Looking around more closely, there were puddles of stagnant water around the cell. The stench was coming from perspiration and human waste. No matter what....I must maintain the will to survive this captivity.
14 February 1944
Today, I was again as always stuck with the same 20 prisoners in this stinky cell. Interrogation happens commonly and the pain from water torture, beatings and electric shocks is a horrific experience. Today, I had to crawl through a small trapdoor to get interrogated by the Japanese torturers. The routine was the same every time. Our captors would ask us questions to get information from us. If they get no information from us whatsoever, they would torture you with many mind numbing methods,
Today, I am going to be interrogated. Our captors asked me what and how I smuggled into Changi Prison. I refused to answer. It would be against my will to answer the most basic questions that the Japanese would ask me. Now, my captors were about to pump water in my body. This was not a particularly good feeling to have water be pumped into my body, I thought. I shivered as the water hose started pumping water into my mouth. My stomach was getting filled with water. The feeling was terrible. Moments later, the water flow stopped. However, my stomach was brimming with water. I felt dizzy. I wanted to throw up. Suddenly, the water gushed out from my mouth. I closed my eyes tightly. I did not want to see the water come out from my mouth. When I thought the interrogation was over, the interrogator continued the interrogation by asking me more smuggling related question. All which I denied and refused to answer a single question.
He called for another guard nearby in Japanese,"Bring her husband from Cell Block C now!"
"Yes, sir!" replied the guard immediately.
Wait, what? This is different; they never called my husband to come to YMCA building for torture. Moreover, how is that torturous? We could finally be reunited together after many months. Although my face showed sadness, my heart was singing cries of joy for my husband to come.
After what seemed what eternity for me, my husband finally arrived. He had been dragged from the another cell to the YMCA building here. When I saw him, my eyes lit up with joy and happiness. However, all was not as it was, as the Japanese told him to kneel in front of me. Now, what? The interrogator, took the cut electric wire and was poised to shock me with electricity....in front of my husband! Before I knew it, the shock came. My body shook countless times and I could hear my husband crying nearby. I felt shameful. We were both getting tortured at the same time. After every shock, came a question for me to answer...which I would never answer. More and more shocks hit my body at different angles and positions. I felt compelled to answer but I couldn't waste my efforts to resist the interrogation before. My husband turned away, but the ferocious Kempeitai next to him forced him to face me and look at me. After one hour of hardcore torture on me and husband, they ceased the interrogation...for now. My husband was now dragged back to his cell. However, I could hear him crying over the distance. How could captivity be any worse...
15 May 1944
I was called out by the Japanese. I thought I am going to interrogated again. I felt a sinking feeling in my gut. However, the Japanese pointed to the exit of the YMCA building. Am I free? I think I am. As I walked out, that was no Japanese to put me back into my cell. I am free! I am finally able to feel the heat of the sun after more than 6 months. It seemed that I escaped from the very depths of hell.
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