SILENT HISTORIES
Dianne Cowling, Proud daughter of Pte Gordon (Mouse) Cowling, 2/29th HQ Coy, H Force
In May 2018, I was approached by the ExPOWRA of Victoria with a request, that had been made to them, for volunteers willing to be interviewed by a photo journalist who is writing a series called ‘Silent Histories’. The subheading is ‘The effects of the Japanese occupation during WWII and its enduring effects’. This amazing young man is looking at the effect of major devastating events throughout history on the hidden or otherwise invisible victims behind these events. The untold story if you like.
Previously completed works include two stories with photos of the Chernobyl Nuclear Power plant in Ukraine and the Fukushima Daiichi Nuclear Power Plant in Japan. A further study was completed in 2016 looking at the invisible victims of Bikini nuclear testing in 1954.
In 2014 a study of those in Japan who still live in the shadows because of injuries sustained during the WWII bombings was completed. This study brought into the light how these children with war related injuries (not of their own volition) still living in shame of their injuries, forced to live harsh lives, unable to cure their wounds, concealing their pain, hiding their scars and sparing others the discomfort of seeing them!
The current work needed volunteers, descendants of exPOW’s, who would be willing to talk about their fathers and hopefully would have photos of exPOW’s of Japan both before and after the war.
Kazuma is a remarkable young man, not afraid to ask the hard questions or look at the unvarnished truth and has already been to Great Britain, Holland and now Australia, gathering information and photos for this new work.
What is even more valiant is that Kazuma Obara is a young Japanese artist interested in revealing the truth regardless of preconceptions or bias and deserves all the awards he has amassed so far.
His insightful questions caused me to reflect on not only who my father was in my life time but to look at what his life was and how his personality may have changed from before the war? What was he like when I was a young child and how did his experience as a POW of Japan for 1276 days affect him upon his return and the remainder of his years? What aid or assistance did he receive with his PTSD if nay and what were my memories and that of his family and how did the way my father react or cope with his nightmares affect me and my attitudes to life?
So much to think about and find answers to but so rewarding and cathartic in so many ways; I think Kazuma may have been sorry he asked for ‘family albums’ as being a ‘creative memories’ person I lugged along two very heavy tomes for his perusal as well as a lot of single photos still not in albums as yet. I even had a set of photos that Dad had brought back with him from Singapore at the end of his captivity. Mostly street scenes of Singapore City but some of farm lands as well. Funny little black and white photos of places and unidentifiable people of various districts, taken in 1945 by some unknown person and sold in sets! Of course Dad had to buy them and kept them safe all those years since.
Questions about my father’s attitude towards Japan, and if it changed at all over the years, of course were easy to answer as Dad had made his attitude most plain when I was younger. He was adamant we were never allowed to have anything in the house that was made in Japan but as time went on his attitude changed so much that in 1989 he even bought a Nissan Blue Bird (car for those who don’t know). I remember going to a Japanese Teppanyaki Restaurant in Collins St, the first to open in Melbourne in 1975. I was wary of telling Dad for fear he would explode but when he found out he said ‘the war was a long time ago and the young people of today were not responsible for what had been done during the ‘war’.
He liked the rice diet and we always had rice in our diet always. On Saturday nights it was Dad’s turn to cook and he always cooked his version of ‘Chinese’ which of course included fried rice. We were the only family that I knew as a child who had rice as a savoury, most were used to ‘rice pudding’ but we had all sorts of exotic ‘Chinese’ dishes that included rice. Doovers were also another common dish that I had no idea came from his days as a POW until I started my own research into his war history. I thought Doovers was an Australian word, how shocked was I to find this originated from the POW days of the Japanese.
He never talked much about the worst of his experiences but now and then he would talk about things that he must have thought were appropriate for a young woman to hear. I remember he once told me that there were many prison guards that he hated with a passion but he told me of one guard ‘On the Line’ who wasn’t so bad as he did on occasion hand out cigarettes. Another time he said that many of the guards were just as bad off for food at times as the POW’s. He even told me that towards the end of the war one of the guards at Kranji (North Western camp on Singapore Island) said he hoped our side would win as he was only a slave in Japan and would go back to a horrible life. It was this guard’s hope that if our side won things would be better in Japan for him and his level of society.
Every country has its secret shames including Australia particularly in the treatment by white settlers of indigenous Australians. A project like this one that Kazuma is doing takes much courage and from it hopeful some healing for those affected will result. I thank Kazuma for telling these untold stories and look forward to the publication of this work.
How my Dad got his nickname ‘Mouse’
Growing up I only ever heard my father’s exPOW mates call him ‘Mouse’. As a kid one just accepts these things as normal and goes with the flow, however as I got older it puzzled me where this nickname came from.
So, taking my courage in my hands one day when I was only a teenager, as one never knew how my Dad would respond to any questions about his time as a POW under the Japanese, I asked him out right. Being the joker that he sometimes loved to be his offhand remark was “Oh that was because I loved cheese’.
This didn’t sound right with me as I was sure they didn’t get cheese when they were POW’s and so it continued to puzzle me until an opportunity arose for me to go to the source, his mates. I asked several over the years as I just had to get corroboration before I could finally accept that what I was being told was true.
The first person I asked was his ‘Pommy mate’ Joe when I met up with him and his family in England in 1975/76. Joe spoke of my Dad the hero – a very foreign concept for me to accept as I didn’t have a good relationship with my Dad in those days. Joe was adamant that if it wasn’t for my father he would not have survived. He said that Dad used to sneak out of the camp and scrounge food to bring back and share with his mates and so one and all said he was so quiet, small and crafty that ‘like a mouse’ there was no place that could keep him in; hence the nickname.
Other Aussie exPOW mates, including Ben West, just before he died last year, told much the same story, that Dad was a great scrounger and could get out, and back again ‘like a mouse’ without being caught, to bring back food to share.
Many books have been written about the scrounging ability of the Aussies, so I know my Dad would not have been the only one but it is a story he never shared with us. He was very quick to laud the heroic actions of others and loved to tell a good tale but when it came to talking about his own escapades without sounding anywhere near like a hero – well that he never did.
When we were children he did like to tell us stories that he thought were funny, only looking back I’m not so sure how appropriate they were for our tender ears. One story did relate to his sneaking out at night to scrounge for food, as he was nearly caught by a Japanese patrol, but according to him, he quickly ducked into a nearby cemetery. He then ran to the area that contained the mausoleums and found an unlocked door, sneaking inside he found nowhere to hide; except for coffins the place was just an empty space. Thinking quickly, he said, he opened the lid of one of the coffins, pushed the bones aside, apologising to the current occupant and climbed in and closed the lid. Once the patrol had passed he thanked his bunk mate for his hospitality, climbed out and snuck safely back into camp.
The way my Dad told the story, we were highly amused and laughed at the time but looking back I shuddered to think of the reality of that situation. The fear and the stress of being caught outside the current camp or gaol I now know would have meant a death sentence, yet even knowing this he still went. As did many others over the 1276 days of captivity, forging an unbreakable connection with their surviving mates that continued once they were back home until the day they died;
‘Lest we forget’
Dianne Cowling, Proud daughter Mouse Cowling 2/29th Battalion HQ Company H Force