Japanese Occupation- Dato' Param.pdf - Malaysian Paediatric ...

That evening, the family took a walk up Bagan Luar Road to the Butterworth Junction. There was
already a large crowd milling around. The heads were displayed on two poles on opposite sides of the
junction. I remember when I saw the heads, the eyes were open and bulging out. We could see bloody
stringy stuff coming out from the neck- which I now realise must have been the carotid artery and the
jugular veins. For some strange reason I wasn’t frightened. I didn’t have any nightmares that night.
Following this beheading, Butterworth was free from petty thefts. I remember we never closed our front
doors at our house until late at night.
Soon life began to settle down in Butterworth. This incident was slowly forgotten, and everyone
went about their daily routine-my father cycling to work daily, my mother managing her daily chores
with the help of her maids.
My brother found another Japanese friend named Emai San. He was a Bomber pilot and lived in one
of the huge colonial style houses at Jalan Pantai, by the Butterworth beach next to St.Mark’s Church. All
these houses used to be occupied by the “orang puteh’ from the Eastern Smelting Company. We could
never ever dream of visiting these houses before. The house was close to our Government Quarters. We
were therefore thrilled, when my brother told us we were invited there for a meal. My brother, my
sister and I walked there and we were warmly greeted by this very handsome Japanese. He had
European features and was very fair. He took us to the large lounge overlooking the old golf course, and
seated us on huge ‘cushiony’ chairs where I sank so deep into the cushion, I had trouble getting up. He
then called his Chinese maid to bring us some food. She soon appeared with a large platter of cut
papaya, and a bowl of hard boiled eggs. We couldn’t believe our eyes-so much food. At home we had to
share 1 or two eggs amongst the 6 of us- and that if we were lucky if the hens laid their eggs. He invited
us to eat, and we shyly enjoyed this feast. I remember we visited him a number of times. By then we
were able to speak Japanese fluently, and enjoyed his stories about the beauty of Japan. He told us
after the war he would take us skiing in Mt.Fuji. Japan’s most famous Mountain. Unfortunately he was
suddenly transferred before the end of the war, and we lost touch with him. After the war we did make
efforts to contact him in Japan, but failed. He had a touch of class, and carried himself with dignity.
My 3rd sister aged 9-10 was given a job as a telephone operator in a Japanese company. She would
answer the phone with “Moshi Moshi” “Hello”and then pass it on to the appropriate connection. She
also helped to serve the tea and coffee to the staff. By then she was able to speak Japanese. She used to
walk to work with her good friend Jessy. This small income must have helped to contribute to our
meagre budget. This went on until School reopened and she had to attend school. Today the idea of
sending a child to work at that age is unthinkable. But war has that effect on normal sensible people. As
I look around at the war stricken countries today and see children fending for themselves, I can
understand why my parents agreed to her working.
Schools reopened in late 1942.We all went to St. Mark’s School now re named Daikoindogakko. We
started attending classes in Japanese. Every morning school began with a general assembly. The whole
school would meet in the middle of the school field, and stand in the early morning rising sun , looking
towards Japan. As we sang the Japanese National Anthem Kimigayo, the school prefect would slowly
raise the Japanese flag on to the tall flag pole. We would then bow our heads towards Japan, as a mark
of respect. After this ceremony, swinging our arms in unison, we would briskly march back to our class
rooms. We began the day greeting our teacher “Ohayo gozaimasy sensei” good morning teacher. He