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1942

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For me, I was a little deceived by the end of the story because it did too much easily the bad men winners ...:(
These 4 girls deserved better and this epilogue restablishes a bit of fairness ... It's good for the memory of Barb, Siss, Yupar and Messa ....

"Alouette, gentille alouette, alouette je te plumerai ..."

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Thanks for the writters ....

Messa
 
For me, I was a little deceived by the end of the story because it did too much easily the bad men winners ...:(
These 4 girls deserved better and this epilogue restablishes a bit of fairness ... It's good for the memory of Barb, Siss, Yupar and Messa ....

"Alouette, gentille alouette, alouette je te plumerai ..."

Thanks for the writters ....

Messa

Ah, but the epilogue was part of the plan.;)
 
You don't need me to tell you how many died in the war against the Japanese

Could I take the opportunity to mention my first cousin, once removed, I'll call him Flight Lieutenant Jack (I won't put his surname on a public website).

He was stationed in India with 211 sdn, flying Beaufighters, and went missing over Burma on 8th March 1944, and was captured by the Japs. Don, a man who was imprisoned with him, survived to tell of the horrors of their captivity.

Jack succumbed to dysentery on 24th October 1944 in Rangoon Jail. He was 27 years old.

At the going down of the sun, and in the morning.....

Wragg
 
You don't need me to tell you how many died in the war against the Japanese

Could I take the opportunity to mention my first cousin, once removed, I'll call him Flight Lieutenant Jack (I won't put his surname on a public website).

He was stationed in India with 211 sdn, flying Beaufighters, and went missing over Burma on 8th March 1944, and was captured by the Japs. Don, a man who was imprisoned with him, survived to tell of the horrors of their captivity.

Jack succumbed to dysentery on 24th October 1944 in Rangoon Jail. He was 27 years old.

At the going down of the sun, and in the morning.....

Wragg

We will remember them..........Lest we forget.

The Ode of Remembrance from Laurence Binyon's wonderful poem "For the Fallen". The full verse:

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning,
We will remember them.

Everyone should read the full poem though this verse is at its heart.
 
We will remember them..........Lest we forget.

The Ode of Remembrance from Laurence Binyon's wonderful poem "For the Fallen". The full verse:

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning,
We will remember them.

Everyone should read the full poem though this verse is at its heart.

Simply a quote of similar tone...

With malice toward none, with charity for all, with firmness in the right as God gives us to see the right, let us strive on to finish the work we are in, to bind up the nation’s wounds, to care for him who shall have borne the battle and for his widow and his orphan, to do all which may achieve and cherish a just and lasting peace among ourselves and with all nations.


Abraham Lincoln.

No nation is perfect and they all have agendas ... but the many that have fallen in the name of a cause will never be forgotten. :(
 
Simply a quote of similar tone...

With malice toward none, with charity for all, with firmness in the right as God gives us to see the right, let us strive on to finish the work we are in, to bind up the nation’s wounds, to care for him who shall have borne the battle and for his widow and his orphan, to do all which may achieve and cherish a just and lasting peace among ourselves and with all nations.


Abraham Lincoln.

No nation is perfect and they all have agendas ... but the many that have fallen in the name of a cause will never be forgotten. :(

So true Siss....thanks for reminding us!
 
We will remember them..........Lest we forget.

The Ode of Remembrance from Laurence Binyon's wonderful poem "For the Fallen". The full verse:

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning,
We will remember them.

Everyone should read the full poem though this verse is at its heart.
Simply a quote of similar tone...

With malice toward none, with charity for all, with firmness in the right as God gives us to see the right, let us strive on to finish the work we are in, to bind up the nation’s wounds, to care for him who shall have borne the battle and for his widow and his orphan, to do all which may achieve and cherish a just and lasting peace among ourselves and with all nations.


Abraham Lincoln.

No nation is perfect and they all have agendas ... but the many that have fallen in the name of a cause will never be forgotten. :(
So true Siss....thanks for reminding us!

From my heart....thank you all :)
 
EPILOGUE: Kuching Airport, 1982.

Jenny sat in the departure lounge at Kuching airport and watched her mother anxiously. The years had been kind to Roxie, in her early sixties she was a very attractive woman. She was stood by the window, gazing out across the runways and taxiways, completely lost in her own thoughts and memories.

Jenny was annoyed that they’d had to fly to and from this airport instead of Kota Kinabalu; they were now facing no fewer than three connections to get home to Ohio, and the next two days of her life to be spent on planes and in airports was all time that she’d not get back. She sighed, and pushed such thoughts to the back of her mind. This trip was for Roxie, and during it she’d learned so much more about her mother. Finally Roxie had opened up, and shared with Jenny the stories of her time here, forty years ago, during the war. Of all the thousands of people in the airport, Jenny and Roxie were among the select few that knew of the dark secrets buried beneath all that concrete.

A Malaysian 737 had just landed and was taxying up to the terminal. Roxie came and sat next to her daughter. “I think that plane is about to taxy over the place where they crucified Barb, Siss, Yupar, and Messa! For all I know their bodies are still under the ground there!”

Jenny hugged her Mom. There were no words that she could say. She looked over her mother’s shoulder at the arriving plane. A hundred tourists and business people, coming to soak up the sun or do deals, completely unconscious of the suffering that had taken place on that very spot within living memory. No wonder her Mom was upset.

Four days. Four days her mother had spent, tied to a tree, having been left there by an Australian soldier, Phlebas, as some kind of a joke or punishment. She could have starved to death there, or have been found in her turn by the Japanese. But, incredibly, she had survived, and had been rescued by no less a personage than a Lieutenant-Colonel of the British Special Operations Executive, who had parachuted in at great personal risk to look for his lost men.

He had come in under cover of an air raid. He hadn’t trusted anyone else’s skills as a sniper, but by the time he was surveying the airfield through a gunsight he had been able to see that he was far, far too late. He’d grimaced when he saw the crosses. Crucifixion. The japs were already notorious for it even by 1942. But the victims had not been his men, but women. His men were tied, dead, to the crosses. Including Wragg . Christ. Wragg, you pillock, you’ve brought those girls to a grisly end!

He’d just been about to put the gun away when he’d seen movement from one cross – the dark haired girl was still alive! But not for long, two japs were heading for her, ignoring the continuing air raid. Kill the japs, or kill the girl? He’d come to a snap decision, and settled the cross hairs on the girl.

Roxie he’d come across entirely by accident as he’d slipped away from the scene. A couple of dozen yards to left or right and he’d have missed her.

The Colonel had taken Roxie back up to look at the airfield, and passed her his field glasses. The scene, described by Roxie, was vivid in Jenny’s mind, and she would remember it herself forever. Maybe she would one day tell her own children, maybe one day she would write it down. But not yet.

Four women, dead on their crosses; not hanging – they were tied so firmly that only their heads lolled forwards. Wragg, tied to Barbara’s cross, between her legs, with a spear sticking out of his guts. The bodies of Phlebas, Paul, and Bull, tied in similar fashion to Siss, Roxie, and Yupar’s crosses. Blaire’s body had been tied, one wrist to Barb’s cross, one to Siss’ cross.

Roxie had described how she’d heard everything, but seen nothing. She had heard the gunfire, and the sound of a plane crashing. Then a massive firefight. The ensuing silence had been terminated by a scream from Blaire that, even at that distance, had put the birds up in panic flight. Roxie had described a deep, full throated, roar of agony; she had needed an hour to recover her composure and continue her story.

The sounds of them crucifying the girls. Screams of terror and of fury that went on for hours, right into and through the night. And as Roxie had stood, frustrated by the impotence of her position, she had caught the words of a song drifting across the airfield:

Alouette, gentille alouette

Alouette, je te plumerai.

Jenny remembered learning that song in French lessons at school. She’d come home that teatime, ten years old, and started singing it, expecting Roxie to be impressed. She recalled how hurt she’d felt when Roxie had flown into a rage. “Jenny, you must NEVER, ever, sing that song in my hearing again! I cannot tell you why not, but mummy really, really, does not like that song! It’s a song that makes mummy very sad.” Jenny had cried at the time, but now, at last, she understood.

Roxie stood up again, and returned to her vantage point by the window.

Five men and six women. Roxie the only survivor. The fact that she’d been so incredibly lucky when the other women had died so horribly still haunted Roxie to this day. Jenny had heard of ‘survivor guilt’, but only now did she begin to grasp the full, horrifying meaning of the phrase.

The departure board began its characteristic clatter as it was updated. Jenny looked up at it hopefully, but against their flight it still said ‘Wait in lounge.’ It was a flight to Tokyo that had been called, and Jenny watched as a group of Japanese businessmen rose and began to head towards their gate. Roxie had seen them too, for they were going to pass between her and Jenny, and she tried to get back to Jenny, her loathing of Japanese still written all over her face.

But in the process she collided with an elderly, balding, bespectacled man. She apologized, as did he, and she had no choice but to step back and let him pass.

“YOU!”

Jenny jumped like a frightened cat as her mother screamed out the word. The whole terminal fell silent as the sound echoed back down from the ceiling.

“YOU BASTARD!!! ARREST THIS MAN!!! HE IS A WAR CRIMINAL!!!”

The man had turned a deep shade of red. If there’s one thing a Japanese hates it is being embarrassed or losing face in front of his peers.

“Madam, please, you are mistaken, I do not know what you mean. Please, let me pass!”

“You know fucking well what i mean! You crucified four innocent women!!! You tortured them on their crosses! Christ alone knows what you did to a fifth, but I’ll never forget her scream! Admit it, damn you – I’ll never forget your ugly face, either!”

You could have heard a pin drop in that terminal. Thousands of travellers, standing with mouths agape, truly astonished at the scene being played out in front of them, unable to believe the words they were hearing.

Jenny wanted the ground to swallow her.

Four-eyes fell into the trap. “They were NOT innocent! They had just killed our most senior general! They deserved all they got!

“And where in the Geneva Convention does it describe crucifixion?” asked Roxie, dangerously.

“The Emperor of Japan did not lower himself to acknowledge the Geneva Convention!”

“That’s because the whole lot of you are evil, sadistic, bastards!” Jenny winced, and Four-eyes’ fellow travellers cried out in rage. Two of them grabbed Roxie. “How dare you, Madam! May we remind you that the war has been over for nearly forty years!”

“Only ‘cos we nuked you!!”

Four-eyes glared at her. “My wife and baby daughter died at Nagasaki!”

“Good!” shouted Roxie.

“STOP!!! THAT IS QUITE ENOUGH!!” Jenny fought her way into the melee. “This is getting nobody anywhere! It is not ‘good’ that anyone died!” Roxie looked ashamed. She had gone too far there.

Four airport policemen arrived. “What is the problem?” asked one, “What is the cause of this disturbance?”

Jenny took command. “This man,” she pointed at four eyes, “has just admitted carrying out the torture and crucifixion of young women during the war.”

Four-eyes bristled. “This woman,” he pointed at Roxie, “ has just insulted myself, my country, my emperor, and my dead family!”

“Your passports, please,” requested the policeman. “All of you!”

They all handed over their passports, some with very bad grace, and one of the policemen departed with them.

“Please to sit down,” said the head policemen. “Please to be quiet.”

“We do have a plane to catch!” said one of the Japanese.

“Please to sit down. We will not take long.”

They sat in an uneasy silence. The terminal returned to normal. The departure board rattled again with Roxie and Jenny’s flight now boarding.

The policeman returned, and conferred with his boss.

“Your passports! Please to take them. You are all free to go!”

The passports were returned to their rightful owners. Roxie began to protest, but Jenny laid a hand on her arm.

“C’mon Mom. We have a plane to catch. He’s not worth missing our flight for.” Roxie looked reluctant, but they turned and headed towards the departure gates.

“NOOOOOOOO! STOP!!!!”

Jenny and Roxie swiveled in alarm. Their jaws dropped in dismay. Four-eyes was sitting on the ground, a large and bloody penknife in his hand, and his guts had spilled out all over the terminal floor, along with all the grief and the guilt of an honorable man forced, by war, to do dishonorable things.

His eyes met Roxie’s. “Goodbye, madam, I’m sorry for your friends,” he said, and he rolled onto his side, and died.

Wonderful conclusion Wragg! So glad that Roxie finally proved useful...:D
 
Barb,

What a wonderful historical epic you and Siss wrote. A huge cast of characters, an exotic location, heroes and villains, bloody and graphic too. What more could we ask for. :D

And thank you for my role in all of this!:D

Oh, Roxie. Thank You!!! You are very welcome!:)

I know it was a long wait for you, but it did make a great epilogue ... (thanks to Wragg's genius)
;)
 
Oh, Roxie. Thank You!!! You are very welcome!:)

I know it was a long wait for you, but it did make a great epilogue ... (thanks to Wragg's genius)
;)


You know what? Whenever Barb starts a story, fasten your seat belts - you're in for the ride of your life!!!

:) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :)
 
From my heart....thank you all :)
We will remember them..........Lest we forget.

The Ode of Remembrance from Laurence Binyon's wonderful poem "For the Fallen". The full verse:

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning,
We will remember them.

Everyone should read the full poem though this verse is at its heart.

Can Pp also make reference to the death over the weekend of one of the last Australian survivors of the Burma Railway death camps.

VALE TOM UREN 1921-2015

Tom Uren left school at 13, became a boxer, was fighting World War II in Timor on his 21st birthday. As the Australian force was being over-run in February 1942, Uren volunteered to go forward in a vehicle armed with a single Bren gun to support a Tasmanian battalion, the 2/40th, which was making what has been described as the last bayonet charge in Australian military history.

He spent his next three birthdays as a prisoner of the Japanese, including on the infamous Burma-Thailand railway, and saw the sky change colour over Nagasaki after the atom bomb was dropped.

He later became a passionate progressive politician and will be sadly missed.

http://www.smh.com.au/comment/-12y83z.html
 
My compliments to Barbaria1; obviously someone has studied many of those Low Grade "B" exploitation movies from the 70's and early 80's out of the Philippines that starred Judy Brown, Roberta Collins, and Pam Grier.

1619761396890.png
 
Last edited by a moderator:
My compliments to Barbaria1; obviously someone has studied many of those Low Grade "B" exploitation movies from the 70's and early 80's out of the Philippines that starred Judy Brown and Pam Grier.
For Moore, try “Bataan Barb”:

 
My compliments to Barbaria1; obviously someone has studied many of those Low Grade "B" exploitation movies from the 70's and early 80's out of the Philippines that starred Judy Brown, Roberta Collins, and Pam Grier.

View attachment 1001488
Please post thumbnails in future, not full-size. They use up a lot of our allocation, which the site owner has to pay for, and some people have still slow or expensive connections.
 
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