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像爱丽丝的小镇|A small town like Alice

第二章|Chapter 2

属类： 双语小说 【分类】双语小说 阅读：[21185]
《 字+字- 行+行- 页+页- 字+字- 行+行- 页+页- 》
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如果我没有记错的话，在她说完那句话之后，我们陷入了长久的沉默。我惊呆了。当不知道可以说什么的时候，我习惯性地躲进沉默中去。我想她从我的沉默中读出了责备之意，所以她向我倾过身子，说：“我知道这件事情听起来确实有点滑稽。可不可以先让我告诉您，我为什么要这么做？”

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我说：“当然了。是否跟你的战时经历有关？”

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她点点头。“我从未跟您提起过。不是不想提，是想不起来。那么久远，就像是多年前发生在另一个人身上的事情一样——仿佛我并没有亲身经历过，只是书上的故事。”

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“这样难道不是更好吗？”

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她摇摇头。“现在不是了，因为这笔钱。”她顿了顿，“您对我太好了，”她说，“我真的很想试着让您理解我的决定。”

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她说，她的人生可以分成三个部分。前两部分与余者有天壤之别，现在已经很难在她身上找到它们的影子。最开始的时候，她是一名学生，和母亲一同住在南安普敦近郊一所有三间卧室的小房子里。此前他们曾全家住在马来亚，但后来，当她长到十一岁，哥哥唐纳德十四岁时，母亲带着兄妹俩回到了英格兰。马来亚的生活对她而言，只是一些残存的模糊片段。显然，亚瑟·佩吉特去世的时候，妻小都在英格兰，他是孤身一人在马来亚。

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他们的生活和普通郊区英国小孩并无二致。他们上学、放假，生活简单，节奏柔和。每年八月迎来一个激动人心的三周假期，去怀特岛

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上的海景村或者弗雷什沃特。但有一件事情使他们跟其他家庭不太一样，就是他们都会说马来语。当然，是保姆教会孩子们说马来语的，母亲则鼓励他们在英国也一直说下去。一开始，他们只是说着好玩，当作家庭秘密语言，但后来马来语成了一件严肃的事情。亚瑟·佩吉特在怡保附近驾车一头撞到树上时，正在因公出差途中。他的遗孀根据公司计划获得了一份年金。他能力出众，是一个宝贵的人才。马来亚霹雳种植有限公司的董事们痛失英才，一面又求贤心切，便写信给这位遗孀说，等唐纳德一满十九岁就为他安排一个职位。这是一份美差，琴一家上下都很欢喜。这就意味着唐纳德长大后要去马来亚投身橡胶种植事业。马来语是帮助他顺利打开局面的重要技能，因为在去东方寻找人生第一份工作的十九岁男孩中，会说当地语言的实在是凤毛麟角。那位精明的苏格兰女士，他们的母亲，时刻谨记不能让孩子们忘了马来语。

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她非常喜欢南安普敦，在那里度过了一个愉快的童年，宁静的生活在连接着家、学校、帝王影院和溜冰场的轨道上悠然往复。她记得最清楚的是溜冰场，而每当想起溜冰场，就总是仿佛能听见瓦尔特费尔的溜冰圆舞曲。“那真是一个美妙的地方，”她望着火炉，似乎那里跳动着一团温暖朦胧的回忆，“我想，它算不上气派，真的——我想它是一栋木楼，在一战时建造的，后来改作了溜冰场。记忆中，我们每周在那里大约溜两次冰，每次都非常愉快。那里的音乐，干净迅速的动作，所有的男孩和女孩。荧光灯，人群，还有滑冰道。我溜得还不赖。妈妈给我买了一套衣服——黑色的紧身衣和紧身马甲，还有一条小短裙。在冰上跳舞感觉真的很棒……”

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她转向我。“您知道吗，在马来亚，在我们被疟疾和痢疾折磨得死去活来，在雨里发着烧打着冷战，没有衣服，没有食物，无处可去，因为没人想要我们的时候，我就会想起南安普敦的溜冰场。那是过去生活的象征，提醒我生活曾经如此美好——告诉我不要放弃。”她顿了顿，“一回到英国，我马上就回到了南安普敦，迫不及待地——我要去那里处理点事情，但是实际上是因为在那些年里，我曾对自己发誓，总有一天，我一定要回去，再在那里滑冰。但是它遭到了空袭，只剩下一个焦黑的、千疮百孔的外壳。现在南安普敦已经没有溜冰场了。我站在人行道上，让出租车在后面等着，拿着靴子和溜冰鞋，情不自禁地因为失望而失声大哭。不知道出租车司机怎么看我。”

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她的哥哥1937年去了马来亚，那年琴十六岁。她十七岁时离开了学校，去了南安普敦的一个商学院，集中学习六个月后，拿到了速记员的文凭。然后她在镇上一个律师事务所工作了大约一年。这一年，她去马来亚工作的事情渐渐有了眉目。她的母亲一直和霹雳种植园公司的董事长保持联系，这位董事长对经理关于唐纳德的汇报非常满意。马来亚的未婚姑娘为数不多，所以当佩吉特太太跟董事长联系，请求他为琴在吉隆坡总部找一份工作的时候，公司认真地考虑了这个请求。公司上下都不想看到他们的经理跟当地女人通婚或者订婚，要想避免这个结局，一个显而易见的方法就是鼓励未婚女孩从英格兰过来工作。现在，这个女孩不仅来自他们熟悉的家庭，还会说马来语，这在从英国来的速记员中是一种罕见的本领。于是琴获得了这份工作。

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这一切都准备妥当后，战争爆发了。一开始，在英国人们都认为这只是一次假战争，不会真的打起来。似乎并没有理由为了一件这么微不足道的事情阻碍了琴的大好前程。而且在佩吉特太太看来，如果战争突然在英国打起来的话，琴待在马来亚要比留在国内好得多。所以琴在1939年的冬天出发去了马来亚。

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在刚到马来亚的十八个月里，她的生活妙不可言。办公室就在秘书处附近。秘书处是一栋巨楼，建得非常宽敞气派，有意宣示英国统治者的力量。它占据了所在广场的一整面，这个广场隔着板球场与俱乐部相望，另一面有一个堪称完美典范的英国乡村教堂。这里的热带气候温和舒适，每个人都过着典型的英国式生活：充足的闲暇，玩不完的游戏，开不完的派对，跳不完的舞会，有大量仆人供他们使唤，帮助他们操办这一切。刚到马来亚那几周，琴和公司的一个经理一起住，后来在都铎玫瑰旅馆找到了一个房间。那是一个英国女人开的小型私人旅馆，很多在办公室和秘书处工作的未婚姑娘都住在那里，就跟单身宿舍差不多。

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“好得让人难以置信，”她说，“每个晚上都有舞会或者派对。如果你不拒绝邀请，就连写封信回家的时间都没有。”

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日本南下进攻东南亚的消息传来时，她并未感到情势危急，周围一切也平静如常。1941年12月7日，美国被迫参战，似乎也是一个好消息。在吉隆坡举行的派对并没有什么异样，除了年轻小伙儿们开始请假不上班，穿上了军装，而这本身就让人感到一种愉悦的兴奋。甚至当日本人在马来亚北部登陆时，吉隆坡的英国人也还安之若素。延绵三百英里的大山和森林本身就是一道天然屏障，能抵抗从北部而来的侵略。威尔士亲王号战列舰和反击号战列巡洋舰的沉没虽然表明事态严重，但对一个刚拒绝了生平第一次求婚的十九岁女孩来说，是不值一提的。

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很快，至少在理论上，所有已婚妇女和她们的孩子都已被撤离到新加坡。当日本军队采取迅速迂回绕行的战术，穿越了那片从未被任何军队征服过的森林，向半岛南下推进的时候，人们开始意识到情况的严重性。一天，琴的主任梅里曼先生把她叫到办公室，开门见山地告诉她办事处要关门了。她必须马上收拾好行李，去火车站坐第一趟火车南下新加坡。他给了她一个公司代理人的地址，在莱佛士广场附近，让她去那里报到，要求放她通行回国。另外五个姑娘也收到了相同的命令。

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那时，有报告说日本人已经逼近怡保，仅在北方大约一百英里处。

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城里一片风声鹤唳。琴到银行取出她所有的积蓄，大约六百马来亚元。她没有去火车站，但即使去了也不一定能坐上南下新加坡的火车，因为那时铁路上已经挤满了开赴前线的军队和物资。她本可以从公路逃走，却错失良机，去了巴图塔斯克找霍兰太太。

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巴图塔斯克距吉隆坡约二十英里。霍兰先生今年四十岁，是一个露天锡矿的经理，一家人住在锡矿边上一间舒适的平房里。他的妻子叫艾琳，三个孩子分别是七岁的弗雷迪、四岁的简和只有十个月大的罗宾。艾琳·霍兰是一个平易近人的慈母，三十到三十五岁。霍兰一家从不参加派对和舞会，他们不喜欢那种场面。他们总是安静地待在家里，任凭世事变迁。琴刚到马来亚的时候，他们邀请她到家里做客。琴觉得和这家人待在一起非常轻松自在，后来又去了好几次。有一次，她刚得完轻微的登革热，在他们家住了一个星期，静心休养。前一天在吉隆坡的时候，她听说霍兰先生带家人去了车站，但是没能坐上火车，又回家了。琴觉得她不能抛下霍兰一家，她必须带着那几个孩子一起走。艾琳·霍兰是一个好母亲，也是一流的家庭主妇，但现在兵荒马乱，要她独自带着三个孩子逃难，她应付不来。

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没费多大力气，琴就搭上了当地一辆开往巴图塔斯克的公共汽车。她大约在午饭时间到达，发现霍兰太太单独和孩子们在一起。矿上所有卡车和轿车都被军队带走了，霍兰一家只剩下那辆破旧的奥斯丁十二，其中一只轮胎磨损严重，帆布层都露了出来，另外一只的内壁很可疑地鼓起一个大包。这是他们唯一的交通工具，要靠它撤离，但它看起来根本就无法把全家人送到新加坡去。霍兰先生黎明前出发到吉隆坡去找两个外胎，到现在还没回来，霍兰太太焦急万分、坐卧不宁。

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屋子里一片混乱。保姆回家了，或者正在外出办事。满屋子都是半收拾好的手提箱，或者是收拾好又打开了的。弗雷迪一直在池塘里玩耍，浑身是泥；简坐在便壶上，在许多手提箱中间哭个不停。霍兰太太正在一边给婴儿罗宾喂奶，一边指挥仆人做午饭，同时又要顾着简，心里还惦记着丈夫。琴先帮弗雷迪擦干净身子，再去照顾简。不久他们就坐在一起吃午饭了。

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比尔·霍兰差不多日落时分才回来，两手空空。吉隆坡所有的轮胎储备都被强行征募了。不过，他发现有一辆当地的公共汽车第二天早上八点会去新加坡，就给家人订了座。回程的最后五英里，他只能步行，因为实在找不到交通工具了。在热带正午的酷热中，在柏油碎石路上徒步五英里，可不是一件开玩笑的事情。他浑身上下都湿透了，渴得要命，整个人都虚脱了。

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他们本应当晚就出发去吉隆坡，但是晚上军队封锁了道路，而且，开着这辆奥斯丁在黑暗中四处乱撞，神经过敏的哨兵很可能会向他们开枪。他们决定黎明动身，留出充足的时间，确保在八点前到达吉隆坡。琴当晚跟他们一起待在平房里，一夜辗转无眠。半夜时她听见比尔·霍兰起身出去走廊上。透过蚊帐，她能看见他一动不动地站着，望着星星。她从蚊帐底下爬出去，穿上晨衣——在马来亚，人们睡觉时几乎不穿衣服。她沿着门廊走到他身旁。“怎么了？”她轻声说。

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“没什么，”他说，“只是好像听见了什么声音。就这样。”

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“有人在院子里？”

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“不，不是那样。”

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“那是什么？”

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“我觉得我听到了枪声，在很远的地方，”他说，“可能是幻觉吧。”他们紧张地站着，在一片蛐蛐和青蛙的叫声中，努力寻找另一种声音。“上帝，”过了一会儿他说，“让黎明快点降临吧。”

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他们回去睡觉。那晚，日军先头侦察部队潜入了在美罗驻扎的英军后方，并且渗透至仕林河，离他们仅有不到五十英里远。

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他们黎明前就全都起来了，趁着第一缕灰色的光线往奥斯丁上装行李。三个成年人，三个小孩，还有他们所有的行李，把奥斯丁装得满满的。霍兰先生给男仆们结清工资，就出发南下吉隆坡。但是才开出不到两英里，那个露出帆布的车胎就爆了。他们被迫停下来，紧张万分，大家七手八脚把备胎——那个内壁上鼓起来一块儿的轮胎——换上。但这个轮胎只支撑了半英里。霍兰先生绝望地继续往前开，光秃秃的钢丝轮只跑了两英里就坏了。这样奥斯丁就完全走不动了。他们那时离吉隆坡还有十五英里远，而时间已经是七点半了。

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霍兰先生把他们留在车里，自己匆忙跑下马路。大约一英里开外，有一间种植园平房。但他没有在那里找到交通工具，经理前一天就离开了。他绝望而焦急地返回来，发现孩子们烦躁不安，妻子则只想回到自己的平房去。在这种情况下，似乎没有其他更好的选择了。于是，每个大人带一个小孩，背着、抱着或牵着，走了五英里回家。他们把行李锁在车里。

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他们在热气刚刚开始袭来的时候到家，筋疲力尽。他们从冰箱里拿出几瓶冰镇饮料，喝完便躺下休息。一个小时后，一辆卡车停在平房前，把他们惊醒了。一个年轻军官匆忙走进来。

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“你们一定要离开这里，”他说，“上车，我搭你们。你们有几个人？”

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琴说：“六个，算上孩子。您可以把我们带去吉隆坡吗？我们的车子坏了。”

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军官冷笑道：“不行。日本兵已经到吉宁了，或者说，在我最后一次听到他们消息的时候，他们已经在那里了。他们现在可能已经进一步南下了。”吉宁离这里只有二十英里。“我带你们去帕农吧，那里有去新加坡的船。”他拒绝开车去取他们的行李，也许他是对的。那辆卡车上已经装了好多个没能及时撤离的家庭，而奥斯丁在五英里外，敌人方向。

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瓜拉是河口的意思，瓜拉帕农则是位于帕农河口的一个小镇。那里有一个常驻地区委员。到达他的办公室时，卡车上有被迫撤离的四十个男人、女人和孩子，都是在经过沿路庄园时捎上的。大部分是出身相对卑微的英国女性，锡矿工程师长或者铁路领班的妻子，没几个能意识到日军推进的迅速和危险。种植园经理、秘书处职员和其他政府职员消息更灵通，也更富有，都及时把家人转移到了新加坡。这些自己没走成，最后一刻才搭上卡车的人，都是最无能的。

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卡车在地区委员的办公室前停下来，陆军中尉走了进去。地区委员不久走了出来，这位男士一脸担忧地看着这群拥挤的妇女和儿童，以及当中寥寥几个男士。“天啊。”他轻声说，知道这个新担子有多重。“这样，把他们载到那边会计办公室去，命令他们坐在门廊上等一两个小时，我去想想办法。告诉他们别到处乱跑。”他转身返回办公室。“我想我可以把他们送到渔船上，”他说，“正好有几条闲置着。这就算仁至义尽了，我没有大汽艇。”

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这群人被扔在会计办公室的门廊里。他们可以在那里做做伸展运动，活动活动筋骨。办公室里有自来水，门廊阴凉清爽。琴和比尔·霍兰把艾琳留在门廊上，让她带着孩子背靠墙坐下，两人结伴进村，把能买的东西都买下来，代替丢失的行李。他们找到一个给婴儿用的奶瓶，一点奎宁，一些治疗痢疾的盐，两罐饼干和三听肉罐头。他们想买蚊帐，但蚊帐已经卖光了。琴买了一些新针线，看见一个大帆布背袋，也买了下来。随后三年里，她一直背着那个袋子。

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大约在下午茶时间，他们回到门廊，向霍兰太太展示购买成果，并吃了一点肉，喝了一些柠檬水。

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日落时分，河口的灯塔守卫打电话到地区委员办公室，报告说巨鹗号正在进河。巨鹗号是海关的大汽艇，负责在海岸巡逻，搜寻从苏门答腊岛出发，偷越马六甲海峡作案的走私客。她是一艘柴油内燃船，大约有一百三十英尺长，平时驻扎在槟榔屿，强而有力，可用于远洋航行。地区委员的脸放光了——这就能解决他的问题。不管巨鹗号的任务是什么，她都必须捎上这些撤离者，带着他们沿海岸线南下，脱离险境。不久他离开办公室，走到码头上，打算在她进港时上船跟船长会面。

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她出现在河的转弯处。他看见她装满了军队——矮胖的小个子男人，穿着灰绿色的军装，装备着来复枪，拿着比他们还要高的刺刀。怀着沉痛的心情，他看着她沿河驶过来，知道这就是他所有努力的终点。

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日本人冲上岸，马上逮捕了他，用枪指着他的后背，押着他走上防波堤，随时准备给他一枪——哪怕只是遇到最轻微的抵抗。但那里根本就没有能够抵抗的部队，就连开卡车的军官也已经把车开走了，去找他自己的分队。日本士兵们迅速散开，没费一颗子弹就占据了整个驻地。他们来到撤离者们面前，这些人乖乖地坐在门廊上，呆若木鸡。日本兵立刻举起来复枪和刺刀对准他们，命令他们交出所有自来水笔、腕表和戒指。在男同伴们的劝说下，女士们默默地照做了，避免了遭受进一步的折磨。琴失去了她的腕表。士兵们搜查她的背包，想看看有没有自来水笔，但是她把自来水笔装在了行李里。

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不久，夜幕降临，一个军官走过来，用一盏防风灯检查门廊上这群人。他沿门廊走着，把灯猛地塞到他们面前，两名士兵紧随其后，拿着上好膛的来复枪和寒光闪闪的刺刀。大部分孩子都哭了。检查结束后，他用蹩脚的英语发表了一个小小的演讲。“你们现在是俘虏，”他说，“你们今晚留在这里。你们明天去战俘营，也许。你们做好事情，对命令遵守，你们会从日本军人收到食物。你们做坏事情，你们就被马上射死。所以，总是做好事情。军官来的时候，你们站起来，鞠躬，每次都要。那就是好事情。你们现在去睡觉。”

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其中一个男士问道：“请问有床和蚊帐吗？”

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“日本军人没有床，没有蚊帐。你们可能明天有床和蚊帐。”

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另外一个说：“我们可以吃点晚饭吗？”这个需要解释一下。“食物。”

46
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“明天你们有食物。”军官离开了，留下两个哨兵把守门廊两头。

47
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瓜拉帕农位于一个长满红树林的沼泽地区内，在一条浑浊河流的入口，所以蚊子极多。孩子们整个晚上都在不停地呻吟，焦躁地哭泣，闹得大人们也没法睡觉。他们躺在硬邦邦的门廊地板上，长夜漫漫，令人厌烦。被囚禁、吃败仗、受蚊子折磨，重重痛苦压在身上，没有几个人能睡着。刚开始的时候，琴眯瞪了一会儿，不久便醒来，浑身僵硬疼痛，脸和手臂都被蚊子咬肿了。她听到孩子们又突然大闹起来，知道在黎明前蚊子的攻击将变得更密集、更凶猛。当天边终于绽放出第一道曙光的时候，俘虏们的状态都非常糟糕。

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会计办公室后面有一个公共厕所，但是人太多不够用。他们尽量相互协调，勉强解决了如厕问题。接下来，他们无事可做，只好干坐着，听天由命。霍兰和艾琳用罐头肉和甜饼干给孩子们做了一些三明治。吃了这顿简单的早饭后，大家感觉好了一些。很多人随身带着少量食物，并分给没带食物的人。那天早上日本人什么都没给他们吃。

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上午九十点钟的时候，审讯开始了。士兵把每个家庭轮流带进地区委员办公室。办公室里有一个日本陆军大尉——琴过后知道他叫阳丹，大尉身旁坐着一个陆军中尉。中尉把笔记写在一本儿童临摹练习本上。琴和霍兰一家一起进去，当大尉问她是谁的时候，她解释说她是这个家庭的朋友，和他们结伴旅行，并说她在吉隆坡工作。审讯很快就结束了。最后大尉说：“男人今天去战俘营，女人和孩子留在这里。男人下午就走，所以你们现在跟他们道别，直到下午。谢谢。”

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他们一直害怕日本兵把他们分开，也在门廊上讨论过此事，但没想到会这么快。霍兰先生问：“我可以知道你们会把女人和孩子们送到哪里去吗？他们的战俘营在哪里？”

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军官说：“日本皇军不会在妇女们和孩子们身上打仗。也许不去战俘营，如果他们做好事。也许他们回家。日本军人总是对女人们和孩子们好。”

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他们回到门廊上，和其他家庭一起讨论目前的情况。将男人和妇女儿童分别拘留是战时通常做法，他们不可能改变这个决定，但这仍然让他们难以承受。琴觉得，霍兰一家此时此刻并不需要她，便走开去，独自坐在门廊边上。她感到饿了。年轻的活力稍稍冲淡了眼下的抑郁忧愁。她在想，前路茫茫，有什么艰难困苦在等待着她？有一件摆在眼前的事：如果他们还要在门廊上过夜，必须找到一些驱蚊膏。北边的村子里有一家药剂店，他们前一天下午曾去过那儿，在这个地区应该有驱蚊膏卖。

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她尝试引起哨兵的注意。她指指身上的蚊口，又指指那个村子，然后从门廊下来到地上。他马上举起刺刀指向她，她匆忙回到门廊上。这种做法明显行不通。他怀疑地向她大吼大叫，回到岗位上。

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还有一个办法。公共厕所在大楼背后，靠着一面墙。那里没有哨兵，因为有墙挡住，不能从那里走出会计办公室，要出去就必须绕过大楼走到前面。过了一会儿，她起身走出后门，在大楼的掩护下，她东张西望。有一些孩子在不远处玩耍。

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她轻声用马来语叫道：“姑娘！对，就是你，姑娘，过来一下。”

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那个孩子向她走来。她大概十二岁，琴问：“你叫什么名字？”

57
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她害羞得咯咯直笑：“哈里娅。”

58
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琴说：“你知道那个药店吗，中国人开的？”

59
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她点点头。“陈可欢记。”

60
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琴说：“去找陈可欢。如果你把我的消息带给他，他过来找我，我就给你十分钱。告诉他有蚊子咬夫人们，”她给小姑娘看她的蚊口，“请他带一些药膏到门廊来，夫人们会买很多。快去，如果他带着药膏回来，我就给你十分钱。”

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那个孩子点点头，跑走了。琴回到门廊等待，不久中国商人就出现了，拿着一个托盘，上面摆满了管装和罐装的药膏。他走向哨兵，向哨兵表示他想卖商品，哨兵犹豫了一下，最后还是同意了。琴买了六管防蚊膏，其他女士马上就把剩下的买走了。哈里娅拿到了十分钱。

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不久一个当值的日本兵拿来两桶很稀的鱼汤和半桶米饭，脏兮兮的，让人直倒胃口。没有餐具，但他们除了尽量吃，也没有别的选择。战俘的生活方式要求严格平分所有食物，但那时他们还没习惯这种生活，所以有的人吃得比别人多很多，有的人吃得很少，还有的人根本就没吃上。不过，自带食物还没吃完，所以他们还可以靠饼干和其他私人储备来补充营养。

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那天下午，男人们被迫与家人分离，被看守押走了。比尔·霍兰告别了他肥胖慈祥的妻子，眼睛湿润了。“再见，琴，”他沉重地说，“祝你好运。”又道，“请尽量不要扔下他们不管，好吗？”

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琴点点头。“请放心。我们会进同一个战俘营。”

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男人们站好队，一共七人，在看守的监押下离开了。

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剩下的人里有十一位已婚女士，两位未婚姑娘——琴和一位死气沉沉的女孩埃伦·福布斯。埃伦一直跟其中一个家庭住在一起，她是来马来亚找结婚对象的，但不幸尚未成功。除了这些人外，还有十九个小孩，有大有小，从十四岁的女孩到仍在襁褓中的婴儿。加起来一共三十二人。大部分女人只会说英语，其中几个，包括艾琳·霍兰，可以用马来语来指挥她们的仆人，但再多的就不会了。

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他们在会计办公室住了四十一天。

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第二晚和第一晚很相似，但日本人把办公室的门都给打开了，把房间给他们使用。晚上，日本人送来第二顿鱼汤餐，但没有提供其他东西——没有床，没有毯子，也没有蚊帐。有些女人带着行李，所以有毯子，但数量实在是太少了，根本不够分。一个一脸严肃的女士，霍斯福尔太太，要求见军官。阳丹大尉来了，她抗议说条件太差，要求给他们提供床和蚊帐。

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“没有床，没有蚊帐，”他说，“很抱歉。日本女人们睡在地板、草席上。所有日本人都睡草席。你丢掉骄傲的思想，很坏的东西。你睡在草席上，跟日本女人一样。”

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“但我们是英国人，”她愤怒地说，“我们无法像动物一样睡在地面上！”

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他的眼睛睁圆了。他向哨兵做了个手势，哨兵们冲进来，一人抓住霍斯福尔太太一条手臂，大尉狠狠地扇了她四巴掌。“很坏的思想。”他说，转身离开了他们。从此再没人提床的事情了。

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第二天早上，阳丹来检查他们。霍斯福尔太太并没有因为昨天的事而畏首畏尾，她提出他们需要水。她指出，不仅是婴儿，他们每一个人都渴望洗澡。当天下午，有人把一个桶放进那间最小的办公室，请来一个苦力负责装水。他们把这个房间改装成浴室和洗衣间。刚开始的时候，大部分妇女还有钱，村子里的小贩效仿陈可欢把东西拿来卖给这些战俘，所以她们积攒起一些足以维持生存的生活必需品。

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他们慢慢开始习惯这种艰苦的生活。孩子们很快就学会了毫无怨言地睡地板，年轻的女士们为此花的时间要多许多，三十岁以上的女士们则难得睡上半个小时而不被痛醒——但她们确实睡着了。阳丹大尉向他们解释说，要等到战役结束，获胜的日本人才有时间给女人们建一个战俘营。日本成功占领马来亚全境后，他们会搬进一个宽敞漂亮的战俘营，专门为他们在山区疗养胜地金马伦高原上修建的。那里有床和蚊帐，以及他们过惯了的舒适生活，但为了获得这一切乐趣，他们必须“做好事情”。“做好事情”意味着，每当看见他走近就要站起身鞠躬。在阳丹大尉扇了好几张脸，用军靴踢了好几次小腿后，他们都学会了“做好事情”。

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日本兵提供的食物仅够勉强果腹，而且每顿都是一成不变的鱼汤和米饭，每天两顿。抱怨毫无用处，而且常常是危险的，在阳丹大尉看来，这些都是过于骄傲的思想，需要接受道德审查。然而，村子里有一间小中国餐馆可以提供饭菜。钱还没花光的时候，大部分家庭每天从那间餐馆预订一顿煮好的饭。

75
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他们没有医生，也没有任何药物。一周后，痢疾袭击了他们。晚上一片混乱，孩子们尖叫着和母亲一起踉踉跄跄地跑进公共厕所。疟疾一直在流行，但是被他们从陈可欢记买到的奎宁控制住，尽管价钱一涨再涨。为了对付痢疾，阳丹大尉减少了汤量，增加了米饭的补给，在米饭里多放一些腐烂的干鱼——那些干鱼可能原来是用来熬汤的。另外，他往食谱里添加了一桶茶，每天下午送去，作为对英国生活习惯的一种让步。

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在这段时间里，琴一直和霍兰太太分担照顾三个孩子的工作。她很虚弱，明显因饮食改变而引起的困乏也使她痛苦不堪，但她每晚都睡得很好，尽管频频醒来。艾琳·霍兰受的苦更多。她的年纪比琴大，在地板上很难入睡。她失去了大部分青春活力，迅速地消瘦了下去。

77
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第三十五天，艾思梅·哈里森去世了。

78
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艾思梅是一个八岁的小孩。她患了痢疾有一段时间了，变得骨瘦如柴，非常虚弱，基本不能入眠，常常哭泣。不久她发烧了，又得了疟疾，有两天烧到一百零四度。霍斯福尔太太告诉阳丹大尉，必须给她找一个大夫，并送她去医院。他说很抱歉，但没有医院。他会试着去找一个医生，但医生们都在为皇军的胜利而努力战斗。当天晚上，艾思梅陷入了持续的抽搐状态，黎明前不久就去世了。

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当天上午，她被埋葬在村子后面的穆斯林墓地里。她的母亲和另外一个女士被允许参加葬礼。在语言不通的日本兵和马来亚人面前，她们从祈祷书上给她读了一段祷文，葬礼就结束了。生活还像从前一样，在会计办公室继续下去。但是，死亡的阴影开始悄悄侵入孩子们的梦境了。

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第六周末尾，阳丹大尉做完上午的检查后，和他们面对面站着。女人们全身湿透，精疲力竭地站在门廊的阴影中，面对着他，用手抓住自己的孩子。很多大人和大部分孩子到那时都已瘦骨嶙峋，病病歪歪。

81
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他说：“女士们，日本皇军已经进入新加坡，整个马来亚都自由了。现在战俘营正在被建造给男人，还有女人们和孩子们。战俘营在新加坡，你们去那里。我很伤心你们的生活不舒服，但是现在好一些了。你们明天出发去吉隆坡，不会比你们每天能走的更多。你们从吉隆坡坐火车去新加坡，我想。在新加坡，你们会很开心。多谢。”

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从帕农到吉隆坡有四十七英里远。理解他的话需要一点时间，然后霍斯福尔太太说：“我们怎样去吉隆坡？有卡车吗？”

83
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他说：“很抱歉，没有卡车。你们走，轻松的旅程。不会多过你们每天能走的。日本军人帮助你们。”

84
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她说：“带着这些孩子，我们没法步行。我们必须要有一辆卡车。”

85
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这些是坏的思想。他的目光变得僵硬无情。“你们走。”他重复道。

86
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“但是我们的行李怎么办？”

87
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他说：“带上你们能够带的东西。不久行李就会给你们送过去。”话毕便转身离开。

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那一天余下的时间里，她们陷在一种震惊的绝望中。那些有行李的人绝望地收拾着行李，她们想将生活必需品都打包带走，但又不想让包裹变得太沉。曾任女校长的霍斯福尔太太主动承担起领导的角色，在她们之间来回走动，向她们提供帮助，出各种各样的主意。她只带着一个十岁的男孩约翰，所以她的情况比大部分人要好，因为对于一个女人来说，携带一个十岁男孩儿的必需品上路并不会很费力。有些年轻母亲带着好几个孩子，她们面临的处境要艰难得多。

89
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琴和霍兰太太面临的问题小一些，她们丢过一次行李，所以现有的东西不多，也不必花许多心思东挑西拣。她们几乎没有可以换的衣服，仅有的几件可以轻易地放进琴的背包。她们买到了两张毯子和三个饭碗，还有三个汤匙。于是她们决定用毯子把这些小东西捆起来，然后用一条绳子捆住毯子，并利用这条绳子做背带，这样一个人就可以同时背一个背袋和一个毯子包裹。她们最大的问题是鞋，这些鞋都很时髦，但很不适合走远路。

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傍晚时分，孩子们都不在身边，她们俩抱着婴儿独自坐在角落里。霍兰太太轻声说：“亲爱的，我不该说泄气话，但是我想我走不了那么远。我最近身体状况很糟糕。”

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琴说：“会好的。”虽然在内心深处，她也知道事实并非如此。“你比我们其中一些人健壮得多，”这倒可能是真的，“我们会慢慢地走，因为孩子们。我们会走好几天。”

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“我知道，亲爱的。但我们在哪里过夜？他们会给我们安排住宿吗？”

93
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没人能回答。

94
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黎明后不久米饭就送来了。八点钟的时候，阳丹大尉和四个士兵一起出现，这四个士兵将担任这次旅途的看守。“今天你们走去亚逸彭吉斯，”他说，“天气好，旅途很轻松。到达亚逸彭吉斯你们就有好晚饭。你们会很高兴。”

95
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琴问霍斯福尔太太：“亚逸彭吉斯离这里有多远？”

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“我觉得有十二到十五英里吧。我们当中有些人还没有走过那么远的路呢。”

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琴说：“最好和士兵们一样，每小时休息一下，是不是？”

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“如果他们允许。”

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一个小时后，最后一个孩子终于上完厕所，女人们也终于做好了远行的准备。看守们蹲在那里，出发后他们就轻松多了。最后，阳丹大尉又出现了，他的眼光冷酷无情，充满愤怒。“你们现在就走，”他说，“还留下的女人们被打，打得厉害。你们做好事情才会高兴。现在就走。”

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没有办法，他们只好启程了。他们三三两两一组，在烈日下沿着柏油路南行，每遇到树荫就躲进去。琴跟霍兰太太一起走，把最热也是最重的负担——毯子包裹挂在肩上，手牵着四岁的简。七岁的弗雷迪跟在母亲旁边走，霍兰太太抱着婴儿罗宾，背着背包。一个日军中士缓步走在最前面，三个士兵殿后。

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妇女们走得很慢。每当一个母亲带着孩子撤进灌木丛，整个队伍就要停下来，这种情况频繁发生。根本不需要向看守提一个小时休息一次的问题，因为痢疾让它变得毫无意义。对于没有受到痢疾困扰的人来讲，旅途变得没完没了，基本上成了一个在烈日下站在路边等待的过程，因为中士不允许队伍抛下落伍的人继续前进。在他们的职责范围内，日本士兵还是很人道和很能帮忙的，他们每个人都帮忙抱着一个孩子走了很远的路。

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这一天过得很慢。中士一开始就说得很清楚，在他们到达亚逸彭吉斯之前，一路上没有食物，也没有遮阴处，而且他似乎并不关心要走多久。这一天他们的时速不超过一英里半。走着走着，女士们都开始觉得脚疼，尤其是年纪大一些的女士。她们的鞋子都不适合走远路，柏油路的热气让她们的脚都肿起来了，所以不久很多人就因为脚疼而变得一瘸一拐的。有一些孩子赤着脚走，倒也走得很顺畅。琴观察了一段时间，弯下身把鞋脱掉，小心地用光脚感受陌生的路面。她开始光着脚走，把鞋子拿在手里，仔细地看着路。虽然柏油沙子还时不时刺痛她柔软的脚底，但脚已经不疼了。她觉得光着脚走更舒服，但是艾琳·霍兰拒绝尝试。

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那天晚上六点钟，天马上要黑的时候，他们跌跌撞撞地来到亚逸彭吉斯。这是一个马来亚村庄，给附近橡胶庄园的工人居住的。附近就有一个乳胶加工厂，工厂旁边有一个用棕榈树做房顶的仓库，里面有很多平行的木板条，平时用来烟熏挂在上面的生橡胶片，现在是空的，女士们成群走进去。他们筋疲力尽，东倒西歪，精神恍惚。过了一会儿士兵们送进来一桶茶、一桶米饭和干鱼。他们很多人都一杯接一杯地喝茶，但是几乎没有人有胃口吃东西。

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趁着最后一缕光线，琴信步走到外面，四周看看。看守们正忙着在一堆小火上做饭，她走到中士的跟前，问他今天晚上她可不可以进村子里走走。他理解了琴的意思，点头同意。离开了阳丹大尉，纪律变得很宽松。

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在村子里，她找到几间卖衣服、糖果、香烟和水果的小商店。她看到有卖芒果的，就买了一打。她跟卖水果的马来女人讨价还价，因为她的现金少得可怜，要省着点花。买来后她马上吃了一个，感觉舒坦了一些。在瓜拉帕农，他们基本没吃水果。她回到仓库，发现士兵们用椰子油给他们点起了一盏小小的灯，灯芯是露在外面的。

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她把芒果分给艾琳和三个孩子，又分给其他人，发现这桩买卖真是一个巨大的成功。有了从其他妇女那里拿来的钱作武装，她又去了一趟村子，买回来五十多个芒果，不久所有的妇女和儿童都在埋头吃芒果了。士兵们又送进来一桶茶，每人拿了一个芒果，作为他们辛苦付出的回报。妇女们吃了芒果后，感觉精神多了，差不多能把所有米饭都吃下去。不久，他们就在疲劳、虚弱和病痛中，昏昏睡去。

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仓库里满是老鼠，整个晚上在他们身上和周围跑来跑去。早上起来他们发现有几个孩子被咬了。

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他们醒来时，昨天长途跋涉所造成的新疼痛、僵硬和疲劳开始发作，使得他们无法再上路了。中士却强迫他们继续走，这次要走去一个叫作亚沙汉的地方，比昨天的行程短一些，大约十英里。至少有十英里，因为他们花了差不多相同的时间才走到那里。这次主要是被科勒德太太耽误了行程。她是一个肥胖的女人，大约四十五岁，有两个孩子，哈里和本，大约十岁和七岁。她在帕农患了疟疾兼痢疾，现在非常虚弱。每隔十分钟，她就必须停下来，其他人也不得不跟着停下来，因为中士不准他们分散。她无须背任何东西，年轻一些的女人轮流扶着她走，帮她拿行李。

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到下午，大家看到她好像变了一种颜色。她本来还算红润的脸变成斑驳的蓝色。她不断抱怨胸口疼。当他们终于到达亚沙汉的时候，她实际上已经无法单独行走了。住宿的地方跟昨天一样也是一个橡胶固化仓库，她们搀科勒德太太进去，扶她靠墙坐下，因为她说躺下来会疼到无法呼吸。有位女士出去拿了点水给她洗脸，她说：“谢谢，亲爱的。请给哈里和本也洗洗，亲爱的。”那个女士便带孩子出去给他们洗澡。等她回来的时候，科勒德太太已经歪在一边，失去了意识。半个小时后，她去世了。

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当天晚上琴又给他们买了一些水果，芒果和香蕉，还给孩子们买了一些糖果。卖糖果的马来女人拒绝收她钱。“不，太太，”她说，“日本人这样对你们太过分了。这是我们的礼物。”琴回去之后告诉大家发生了什么事，大家听了都很感激那个女人。

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在仓库外面炊火的光亮中，霍斯福尔太太和琴一起，跟中士进行了一次谈判。这个中士只会说几个英文单词，为了让他听明白，她们一边说一边打手语。“明天不能再走，”她们说，“不，不能再走。休息——睡觉——明天。明天再走，更多女人死去。明天休息。走一天，休息一天。”

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她们无法知道他是否听懂了。“明天，”他说，“女人在土里。”

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明天早上必须将科勒德太太下葬。这样一来就不用一大早出发了，而且也走不完十英里。她们抓住这一点作为借口。“明天埋葬女人在土里，”她们说，“明天留在这里。”

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她们已经尽了力，他不理解也没有办法。他跟三个士兵一起在炊火前蹲下来。过了一会儿，他走向琴，脸上闪烁着智慧的光芒。“走一天，睡一天，”他说，“女人们就不死了。”他使劲儿点着头，又把霍斯福尔太太叫过来，三人一起，友好地微笑着，使劲儿地点头。他们都对彼此感到满意。为了庆祝这一外交胜利，她们给他一根香蕉以示尊敬。

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那一整天，琴都赤着脚走来走去，虽然不慎几次踢到脚指头，踢破了脚趾甲，但在晚上她感到了久违的舒爽清新。晚上，远行的效果开始以不同形式显现在不同年龄段的人身上。大部分三十岁以下的妇女和孩子们，状态实际上都比离开帕农时要好。宽松的纪律使他们振奋，走路活动身体，有水果和糖果吃，也使他们变得更精神。老一些的女人状况却糟糕得多。对她们而言，极端的疲劳压倒了这些改善带来的好处。她们在黑暗中或躺或坐，无精打采，被淘气的孩子们折磨着，连吃东西的力气都没有。很多人都累到失眠。

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第二天早上，他们埋葬了科勒德太太。附近找不到可以做墓地的地方，但当地的马来首领告诉他们，可以在院子的一角挖一个洞，在一堆橡胶的旁边。中士找来两个苦力给挖了一个浅浅的墓坑，把包裹在毯子里的科勒德太太放进去。霍斯福尔太太从祈祷书上读了一段祷文。然后她们又把毯子拿回来，因为实在是没有多余的毯子了。随后就盖上了土。琴找来一个木匠替他们钉了一个小小的十字架，但是这个木匠拒绝收费。他是一个穆斯林，或者仅仅是一个万物有灵论者，但他知道老爷们是怎样办一个基督教葬礼的。他们用一根永久铅笔把“茱莉亚·科勒德”和死亡日期写在上面，希望雨水不会把字迹冲刷掉。然后她们就开始了冗长的讨论，以决定在上面写什么铭文。所有女士都兴致勃勃，热烈的讨论持续了一个半小时。出人意料地，霍兰太太建议使用《新约·罗马书》第十四章中的句子：“你是谁，竟论断别人的仆人呢。他或站住，或跌倒，自有他的主人在。”暗指那个迫使他们上路的中士。但其他的女士并不喜欢这句话，最后她们妥协成“安宁，真正的安宁，心爱的人远在他方”。那使所有人都很满意。

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葬礼结束后，她们散坐在各处洗衣服。肥皂现在变得很稀有，跟钱一样。吃完米饭后，霍斯福尔太太把大家召集起来，开了一个简单的会议，核实经济状况。有一半女人已经身无分文，其他人的钱加起来总共也只有十五美元左右。她提议把钱集中起来使用，但兜里还有钱的女人们宁愿把钱留着，花在自己的孩子身上。不过，由于钱实在是太少了，没有什么讨论价值。然而，她们都同意平分日本兵每日提供的食物，此后他们吃饭的时候就更加井然有序了。

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大约在中午的时候，阳丹大尉开着地区委员的轿车出现了。他停车下来，发现他们没有在路上，不禁怒火中烧。他用日语数落了中士一顿。中士僵硬地站在那里，专注地听着，完全没有为自己解释或辩护。之后大尉转向女人们。“你们为什么不走？”他愤怒地质问道，“非常坏的事情。你们不走，没有食物。”

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霍斯福尔太太冲着他说：“科勒德太太昨天晚上去世了。我们今天早上才把她葬在那里。如果你强迫我们每天都这样走，我们会统统死掉。这些女人一点也不适合走远路。你知道的。”

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“女人为什么死？”他询问道，“什么病？”

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“她得了痢疾和疟疾，就像我们大部分人一样。昨天，我们走了那么多路，她累死了。你最好进来看看弗里思太太和茱迪·汤姆逊。她们今天都不可能上路。”

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他走进仓库，站着看了看两三个无精打采地坐在昏暗中的女人。他和中士说了点什么，便回去开车。在门口，他转向霍斯福尔太太。“很伤心女人死了，”他说，“也许我找一辆卡车在吉隆坡。我会问的。”他上了车，开走了。

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他的话很快就在女人们中间传开了。他要去给她们找一辆卡车！她们可以坐卡车去吉隆坡了！不用再走远路了！事情到底还不至于那么糟糕。她们将会从吉隆坡坐火车去新加坡，跟其他英国女士一样住进一个像样的战俘营。在战俘营里，她们可以安顿下来，重新组织生活，好好照顾孩子。战俘营里还有医生，也总会有地方医治病重的人。她们变得欢欣鼓舞，连最无精打采的人也恢复了，纷纷出来洗漱，把自己收拾得干净漂亮一些。那个下午她们都非常关心自己的外表，因为她们以前常常去吉隆坡购物，那里的人都认识她们。她们必须在卡车到达之前把自己打扮好。

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日落前大概一个小时，阳丹大尉又来了。中士向他敬了一个礼，他又和中士说话。然后他转向女人们：“你们不去吉隆坡，”他说，“你们去瑞天咸港。英国人毁坏了桥，所以通向新加坡的铁路不好。你们现在去瑞天咸港，然后坐船去新加坡。”

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妇女们陷入了震惊的沉默。霍斯福尔太太问道：“会不会有卡车送我们去瑞天咸港？”

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他说：“很抱歉没有卡车。你们慢慢走，轻松的行程。两天，三天，你们走去瑞天咸港。然后船带你们去新加坡。”

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从亚沙汉到瑞天咸港有大概三十英里远。她说：“阳丹大尉，请你讲讲道理。我们中的很多人都不适合继续走路了。无论如何，你就不能给我们的孩子找一些交通工具吗？”

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他说：“英国女人们有骄傲的思想，总是。太骄傲了，不像日本女人们那么好。你们明天走去巴克里。”他上车走了。那是她们最后一次见到他。

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巴克里大概有十一英里远，大约和瑞天咸港在同一个方向上。突如其来的变故让她们失望透顶，任人摆布的命运更是如此。霍兰太太绝望地说：“我真不懂，难道在帕农的时候，他就不知道桥都断了？他就不应该让我们去吉隆坡！我真怀疑瑞天咸港到底有没有船……”

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第二天早晨他们只好又出发上路了。两个士兵被带走了，只剩下一个士兵和中士一起留下来看守他们。看守减少并不会增加他们的危险性，因为没有人想过要逃走。但现在只剩下两个看守给她们带年幼的孩子，所以母亲们的负担增加了。

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那天，琴第一次抱着婴儿罗宾走路。霍兰太太走得太痛苦了，必须减轻她的负担。她仍然背着背包，照顾着弗雷迪，但是琴不仅要背毯子包裹和零碎物件，还要抱着婴儿，另一只手牵着简。她像以前一样赤脚行走。经过几番试验，她发现，像马来女人那样把婴儿背在臀上是最轻松的方式。

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奇怪的是，这个婴儿在三个小孩中最省事。她们喂他米饭、鱼汤或鱼汁，效果很好。六周里面，他好像只得了一次痢疾，吃了一两次芒硝就好了。蚊子好像从来不去骚扰他，他也没发过烧。另外两个孩子就没那么幸运了。他们时不时受到痢疾的折磨，现在虽然已经好了，人却变得相当的瘦。

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当天晚上他们睡在一间平房里。这间平房原来属于巴克里锡矿的经理，一个英国人。他七八周前就抛下它离开了，在此期间它被双方部队占领过，也遭受了马来人的洗劫，现在只剩下光秃秃的墙。然而，奇迹般地，肮脏不堪的洗澡间还能用。洗澡间里堆着一些切好的木头，用于生炉子烧热水。中士信守承诺，允许他们休息一天，他们便充分利用热水来洗衣服和洗澡。他们的状态稍稍好了一些，精神也恢复了。

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“我想船上会有热水，”霍兰太太说，“通常都会有的，是不是？”

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第二天，他们继续上路，出发去一个叫作迪里特的地方。这一天他们基本上都沿着橡胶种植园的小路行走，树荫覆盖了大部分道路，让他们感到很舒服。即使是年老一些的妇女，也发现今天的行程可以忍受。他们在探路的时候遇到了一些困难。中士基本上不会说马来语，他时不时去问路，但是听不懂那些负责收割橡胶的马来女人们在说什么。琴发现她能听懂那些女人所说的答案，也可以跟她们沟通，但她自己知道方向后，又很难让中士听得懂。时近黄昏，他们俩达成了一项协议，由她负责跟马来女人们交谈——无论如何，这些马来女人跟她聊天时没那么害羞；然后她发明了一种中士能看明白的手势语。从那时起，琴便负责为大家打探最近的路。

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下午三四点钟，本·科勒德——已逝科勒德太太的儿子——光着脚在草丛中走的时候，踩到一样东西，那东西用毒牙咬了他一口，逃走了。他过后说那看起来像一只大甲虫，很可能是蝎子。霍斯福尔太太负起责来，让他平躺在地面上，从伤口中吮吸出毒液。但是他的脚迅速地肿了起来，一直肿到膝盖，看起来就很疼，使他哭个不停。她们别无他法，只好把他背起来。对于本身已经虚弱不堪的女士们来讲，要背着一个五英石重的七岁男孩走路并不是一件容易的事情。霍斯福尔太太背着他走了一个小时，然后中士背着他走完剩余的路程。到达迪里特后，他的脚踝已经肿成一个大包，膝盖也僵硬了。

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在迪里特没有地方住，也没有食物。那个地方是一个典型的马来村庄，房子用木制成，棕榈屋顶离地板有四英尺高，地板用柱子支撑。地板下面是空的，狗在那里睡觉，家禽在那里做巢。他们疲惫地或坐或站，等待中士与马来首领进行交涉。很快他就把琴叫过去，让她加入了三语谈判。村子里有米，可以给他们做一顿饭，但是首领提出要收钱。最后中士答应日后一定会付账，首领才勉强同意提供晚饭。关于住宿，他冷漠地说，没有，但他们可以跟狗和家禽一样睡在屋子底下。后来他同意腾出一间屋子，这样这三十个战俘就可以睡在屋顶下，大约十五英尺见方的地板上。

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琴占了一个角落，艾琳·霍兰带着孩子和婴儿坐进去。在几英尺开外，霍斯福尔太太正在照料本·科勒德。她们有一些高锰酸盐结晶和旧剃须刀片。尽管孩子痛得尖叫，她们还是用刀片稍稍切开了伤口，放进去一些结晶，再重新包扎好伤口。随后她们用热敷。琴帮不上忙，信步走出去了。

139
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在一个类似村子公用厨房的地方，日本士兵正在指挥村子里的女人做米饭。首领的住所就在附近。他坐在通向屋子的楼梯上，坐在脚后跟上，抽着一根长管烟。他是一名头发灰白的老人，穿着纱笼和一件褪了色的卡其斜纹粗棉布夹克。琴走到他跟前，含羞用马来语说：“很抱歉，我们被迫来到这里，给你们添了这么多麻烦。”

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他站起来，向夫人鞠了一躬。“不麻烦，”他说，“看到夫人们境况如此凄惨，我们感到很难过。你们是否从很远的地方来？”

141
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她说：“今天从巴克里来。”

142
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他请她进房子里去。那里没有椅子，她和他一起坐在地板上，靠着门洞。他问他们的遭遇，琴告诉了他，他发出一声哼哼。不久他的妻子从里面出来，拿着两杯没有糖和牛奶的咖啡。琴用马来语谢谢她，她含羞一笑，又退回房子里面去。

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过了一会儿，首领说：“那个矮子，”他指日本中士，“他说你们明天必须待在这里。”

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琴说：“我们太虚弱了，无法每天走远路。日本人准许我们每走一天就休息一天。如果明天可以留在这里，对我们恢复体力将很有帮助。中士说他可以找到钱买食物。”

145
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“矮子们从来都是白吃白喝，”首领说，“不过你们要留下来。”

146
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她说：“我不知道能说什么——除了谢谢你。”

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他抬起灰白的头。“《古兰经》第四章写道：‘人性是贪吝所支配的。如果你们行善而且敬畏，那末，真主确是彻知你们的行为的。’”

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她和这位年老的男人一起坐着，直到米饭飘香，她才离开他去吃晚饭。其他女人奇怪地看着她。“我看见你和首领坐在一起闲聊，”其中一个说，“就像老朋友一样。”

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琴笑道：“他请我喝了一杯咖啡。”

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“真好！能用他们的语言和他们交谈，总能得到点好处，不是吗？他都说了些什么？”

151
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琴想了想。“东拉西扯——关于我们的旅途。他聊了一下上帝。”

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女人们盯着她看。“你是指他自己的上帝？不是真正的上帝？”

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“他没有把两者区分开来，”琴说，“就是上帝。”

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第二天，他们休息了一整天，然后步行去离瑞天咸港三到四英里远的巴生。小本·科勒德的情况虽无恶化，但也并无好转，大腿肿得厉害。他现在主要的问题是身体上的虚弱：受伤后他就再没有吃过东西，因为一吃就要吐出来。那个时候，孩子们都累得一点劲儿没有了。首领指挥村民们给他做了一个担架，把两条带枝丫的长竹竿并排扎起来，再在中间放一个用棕榈树叶织成的垫子，这样他们可以把小本放在上面，轮流抬着他。

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他们当天下午就走到了巴生。那里有一个空校舍，中士把他们安置进去之后，自己就到附近的日军营地报到，汇报工作并安排日常食物供给事宜。

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不久，一个带着六个护卫士兵的军官来了，对他们进行了检查。他是合欢少佐，英语说得非常好。他说：“你们是谁？来这里干什么？”

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他们盯着他。霍斯福尔太太说：“我们是战俘，从帕农来。我们在去新加坡战俘营的路上。帕农的阳丹大尉派看守把我们押来这里，让我们从这里上船去新加坡。”

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“这里没有船，”他说，“你们应该留在帕农。”

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没有争论，她们也没有力气了。“我们被送来这里。”她机械地重复道。

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“他们没有权利把你们送来这里，”他生气地说，“这里没有战俘营。”

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接下来是漫长而尴尬的沉默：女人们盯着他，茫然，绝望。霍斯福尔太太再次把残存的能量集中起来。“我们可以看医生吗？”她问，“我们当中有人病得很厉害——尤其是一个孩子。另一位女士在路上去世了。”

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“她死于什么？”他很快地问道，“瘟疫？”

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“不是感染。她累死了。”

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“我会派一个医生去给你们所有人做检查。你们今晚可以留在这里，但是必须尽快离开。我们自己的食物都不够，更别说养活战俘。”他转过身去，走回营地。

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他给校舍安排了一个新看守。他们再也没有见过那个友好的中士和那个士兵了。也许他们被派回帕农了。不到一个小时，一个年轻的日本医生来了。他让他们都站起来，检查看他们有没有被感染，然后就要走，但是他们请他留下来看看小本·科勒德的大腿。他命令他们继续做热敷。当他们问是否可以请他把小本送进医院的时候，他耸耸肩，说：“我问一下。”

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他们在看守的监视下一直留在校舍里，日复一日。第三天，他们又去叫医生，因为本·科勒德的情况陡然恶化。尽管很不乐意，医生还是用卡车把他送到医院去。六天后，他们听说小本去世了。

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琴·佩吉特弯腰蹲在起居室壁炉边的地板上。窗外，风转了方向，把伦敦的雨吹到了窗户上。

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“在战俘营度过战争岁月的人们写过很多书，写他们过得有多糟糕。”她轻声说，望着余烬，“没有在战俘营里待过的人，是不会知道那是怎么样的。”

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I suppose there was a long pause after she said that. I remember being completely taken aback, and seeking refuge in my habit of saying nothing when you don’t know what to say. She must have felt reproof in my silence, I suppose, because she leaned towards me, and she said,“I know it’s a funny thing to want to do. May I tell you about it?”

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I said,“Of course. Is this something to do with your experiences in the war?”

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She nodded.“I’ve never told you about that. It’s not that I mind talking about it, but I hardly ever think about it now. It all seems so remote, as if it was something that happened to another person, years ago—something that you’d read in a book. As if it wasn’t me at all.”

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“Isn’t it better to leave it so?”

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She shook her head.“Not now, now that I’ve got this money.”She paused.“You’ve been so very kind to me,”she said.“I do want to try and make you understand.”

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Her life, she said, had fallen into three parts, the first two so separate from the rest that she could hardly reconcile them with her present self. First, she had been a schoolgirl living with her mother in Southampton. They lived in a small, three-bedroomed house in a suburban street. There had been a period before that when they had all lived in Malaya, but they had left Malaya for good when she was eleven and her brother Donald was fourteen, and she had only confused memories of that earlier time. Apparently Arthur Paget had been living alone in Malaya when he met his death, his wife having brought the children home.

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They lived the life of normal suburban English children, school and holidays passing in a gentle rhythm with the one great annual excitement of three weeks holiday in August in the Isle of Wight, at Seaview or at Freshwater. One thing differentiated them slightly from other families, in that they all spoke Malay. The children had learned it from the amah, of course, and their mother encouraged them to continue talking it in England, first as a joke and as a secret family language, but later for a very definite reason. When Arthur Paget drove his car into the tree near Ipoh he was travelling on the business of his company, and his widow became entitled to a pension under the company scheme. He had been a competent and a valuable man. The directors of the Kuala Perak Plantation Company, linking compassion with their quest for first-class staff, wrote to the widow offering to keep a position for the boy Donald as soon as he became nineteen. This was a good opening and one that they all welcomed; it meant that Donald was headed for Malaya and for rubber-planting as a career. The Malay language became a matter of importance in giving him a good start, for very few boys of nineteen going to the East for their first job can speak an Oriental language. That shrewd Scotswoman, their mother, saw to it that the children did not forget Malay.

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Jean had liked Southampton well enough, and she had had a happy childhood there in a gentle orbit of home, school, the Regal cinema, and the ice-skating rink. Of all these influences the one that she remembered best was the ice rink, connected in her mind inevitably with Waldteufel’s Skaters Waltz.“It was a lovely place,”she said, staring reminiscently into the fire.“I suppose it wasn’t much, really—it was a wooden building, I think, converted out of something that had been put up in the first war. We skated there about twice a week ever since I can remember, and it was always lovely. The music, and the clean, swift movement, and all the boys and girls. The coloured lights, the crowd, and the ring of skates. I got quite good at it. Mummy got me a costume—black tights and bodice, and a little short skirt, you know. Dancing was wonderful upon the ice...”

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She turned to me.“You know, out in Malaya, when we were dying of malaria and dysentery, shivering with fever in the rain, with no clothes and no food and nowhere to go, because no one wanted us, I used to think about the rink at Southampton more than anything. It was a sort of symbol of the life that used to be—something to hold on to in one’s mind.”She paused.“Directly I got back to England I went back to Southampton, as soon as I could—I had something or other to do down there, but really it was because all through those years I had promised myself that one day I would go back and skate there again. And it had been blitzed. It was just a blackened and a burnt-out shell—there’s no rink in Southampton now. I stood there on the pavement with the taxi waiting behind me with my boots and skates in my hand, and I couldn’t keep from crying with the disappointment. I don’t know what the taxi-driver thought of me.”

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Her brother had gone out to Malaya in 1937 when Jean was sixteen. She left school at the age of seventeen and went to a commercial college in Southampton, and emerged from it six months later with a diploma as a shorthand typist. She worked then for about a year in a solicitor’s office in the town, but during this year a future for her in Malaya was taking shape. Her mother had kept in contact with the chairman of the Kuala Perak Plantation Company, and the chairman was very satisfied with the reports he had of Donald from the plantation manager. unmarried girls were never very plentiful in Malaya; and when Mrs Paget approached the chairman with a proposal that he should find a job for Jean in the head office at Kuala Lumpur it was considered seriously. It was deemed undesirable by the Company that their manager should marry or contract liaisons with native women, and the obvious way to prevent it was to encourage unmarried girls to come out from England. Here was a girl who was not only of a family that they knew but who could also speak Malay, a rare accomplishment in a shorthand typist from England. So Jean got her job.

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The war broke out while all this was in train, and to begin with, in England, this war was a phoney war. There seemed no reason to upset Jean’s career for such a trivial matter; moreover in Mrs Paget’s view Jean was much better in Malaya if war was to flare up in England. So Jean left for Malaya in the winter of 1939.

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For over eighteen months she had a marvellous time. Her office was just round the corner from the Secretariat. The Secretariat is a huge building built in the more spacious days to demonstrate the power of the British Raj; it forms one side of a square facing the Club across the cricket ground, with a perfect example of an English village church to one side. Here everybody lived a very English life with tropical amenities; plenty of leisure, plenty of games, plenty of parties, plenty of dances, all made smooth and easy by plenty of servants. Jean boarded with one of the managers of the Company for the first few weeks; later she got a room in the Tudor Rose, a small private hotel run by an Englishwoman which was, in fact, more or less a chummery for unmarried girls employed in the offices and the Secretariat.

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“It was just too good to be true,”she said.“There was a dance or a party every single night of the week. One had to cry off doing something in order to find time to write a letter home.”

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When war came with Japan it hardly registered with her as any real danger, nor with any of her set. December the 7th, 1941, brought America into the war and so was a good thing; it meant nothing to the parties in Kuala Lumpur except that young men began to take leave from their work and to appear in uniform, itself a pleasurable excitement. Even when the Japanese landed in the north of Malaya there was little thought of danger in Kuala Lumpur; three hundred miles of mountain and jungle was itself a barrier against invasion from the north. The sinking of the Prince of Wales and the Repulse was a catastrophe that didn’t mean a thing to a girl of nineteen who had just rejected her first proposal.

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Soon the married women and the children were evacuated to Singapore, in theory at any rate. As the Japanese made headway down the peninsula with swift encirclements through the jungle that no troops had ever penetrated before, the situation began to appear serious. There came a morning when Jean’s chief, a Mr Merriman, called her into the office and told her bluntly that the office was closing down. She was to pack a suitcase and go to the station and take the first train down to Singapore. He gave her the name of their representative at an address off Raffles Place, and told her to report there for a passage home. Five other girls employed in the office got the same orders.

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The Japanese at that time were reported to be near Ipoh, about a hundred miles to the north.

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The serious nature of the position was obvious to everyone by then. Jean went to the bank and drew out all her money, about six hundred Straits dollars. She did not go to the station, however; if she had, it is doubtful whether she would have been able to get down to Singapore because the line by that time was completely blocked with military traffic coming up to the Front. She might have got away by road. Instead of that, she went to Batu Tasik to see Mrs Holland.

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Batu Tasik is a place about twenty miles north-west of Kuala Lumpur, and Mr Holland was a man of forty, the manager of an opencast tin mine. He lived in quite a pleasant bungalow beside the mine with his wife Eileen and their three children, Freddie aged seven, Jane aged four, and Robin, who was ten months old. Eileen Holland was a comfortable, motherly woman between thirty and thirty-five years old. The Hollands never went to parties or to dances; they were not that sort. They stayed quietly at home and let the world go by them. They had invited Jean to come and stay with them soon after she arrived, and she had found their company restful. She had been to see them several times after that, and once, when she had had a slight attack of dengue, she had spent a week with them recuperating. In Kuala Lumpur on the previous day she had heard that Mr Holland had brought his family into the station but had been unable to get them on the train, so they had all gone home again. Jean felt she could not leave without seeing the Hollands and offering her help with the children; Eileen Holland was a good mother and a first-rate housewife, but singularly unfitted to travel by herself with three children in the turmoil of evacuation.

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Jean got to Batu Tasik fairly easily in a native bus; she arrived about lunch-time and she found Mrs Holland alone with the children. All trucks and cars belonging to the mine had been taken by the army, and the Hollands were left with their old Austin Twelve with one tyre worn down to the canvas and one very doubtful one with a large blister on the wall. This was the only vehicle that they now had for their evacuation, and it didn’t look too good for taking the family to Singapore. Mr Holland had gone into Kuala Lumpur to get two new outer covers; he had gone in at dawn and Mrs Holland was already in a state of flutter that he had not come back.

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In the bungalow everything was in confusion. The amah had gone home or had been given notice, and the house was full of suitcases half packed, or packed and opened again. Freddie had been in the pond and was all muddy, Jane was sitting on her pot amongst the suitcases, crying, and Mrs Holland was nursing the baby and directing the cooking of lunch and attending to Jane and worrying about her husband all at the same time. Jean turned to and cleaned up Freddie and attended to Jane, and presently they all had lunch together.

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Bill Holland did not come till nearly sunset, and he came empty-handed. All tyre stocks in Kuala Lumpur had been commandeered. He found out, however, that a native bus was leaving for Singapore at eight that morning, and he had reserved seats for his family on that. He had had to walk the last five miles for lack of any other transport, and walking five miles down a tarmac road in the middle of the afternoon in the heat of the tropics is no joke; he was soaked to the skin and with a raging thirst, and utterly exhausted.

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It would have been better if they had started for Kuala Lumpur that night, but they didn’t. All movement on the roads at night was prohibited by the military, and to start out in the Austin in the dark would have been to risk a burst of fire from trigger-happy sentries. They decided to leave at dawn, which would give plenty of time to get to Kuala Lumpur before eight. Jean stayed the night with them in the bungalow, wakeful and uneasy. Once in the middle of the night she heard Bill Holland get up and go out into the veranda; peering out through her mosquito net she could see him standing motionless against the stars. She climbed out from under the net and slipped on her kimono; in Malaya one sleeps with very little on. She walked along the veranda to him.“What is it?”she whispered.

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“Nothing,”he said.“Just thought I heard something, that’s all.”

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“Someone in the compound?”

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“No—not that.”

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“What?”

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“I thought I heard guns firing, very far away,”he said.“Must have been fancy.”They stood tense and listening against the great noise of the crickets and the frogs.“God,”he said presently,“I wish it was dawn.”

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They went back to bed. That night the Japanese advanced patrols infiltrated behind our forces lining the Bidor and penetrated as far as Slim River, less than fifty miles away.

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They were all up before dawn and loading up the Austin with the first grey light; with three adults and three children and the luggage for all of them the Austin was well loaded down. Mr Holland paid the boys off and they started down the road for Kuala Lumpur, but before they had gone two miles the tyre that was showing canvas burst. There was a strained pause then while they worked to put the spare on, the one with the blister on the wall; this took them for another half mile only before going flat. In desperation Mr Holland went on on the rim; the wire wheel collapsed after another two miles, and the Austin had run to its end. They were then about fifteen miles from Kuala Lumpur, and it was half past seven.

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Mr Holland left them with the car and hurried down the road to a plantation bungalow about a mile away; there was no transport there, and the manager had left the day before. He came back disappointed and anxious, to find the children fretful and his wife only concerned to get back to their bungalow. In the circumstances it seemed the best thing to do. Each of the adults took one child, and carrying it or leading it they set out to walk the five miles home again, leaving the luggage in the car, which they locked.

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They reached home in the first heat of the day, utterly exhausted. After cold drinks from the refrigerator. they all lay down for a little to recover. An hour later they were roused by a truck stopping at the bungalow; a young officer came hurrying into the house.

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“You’ve got to leave this place,”he said.“I’ll take you in the truck. How many of you are there?”

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Jean said,“Six, counting the children. Can you take us into Kuala Lumpur? Our car broke down.”

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The officer laughed shortly.“No I can’t. The Japs are at Kerling, or they were when I last heard. They may be further south by now.”Kerling was only twenty miles away.“I’m taking you to Panong. You’ll get a boat from there to get you down to Singapore.”He refused to take the truck back for their luggage, probably rightly; it was already loaded with a number of families who had messed up their evacuation, and the Austin was five miles in the direction of the enemy.

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Kuala means the mouth of a river, and Kuala Panong is a small town at the entrance to the Panong River. There is a District Commissioner stationed there. By the time the truck reached his office it was loaded with about forty men, women, and children picked up for forcible evacuation from the surrounding estates. Most of these were Englishwomen of relatively humble birth, the wives of foreman engineers at the tin mines or gangers on the railway. Few of them had been able to appreciate the swiftness and the danger of the Japanese advance. Plantation managers and those in the Secretariat and other Government positions had had better sources of information and more money to spend, and these had got their families away to Singapore in good time. Those who were left to be picked up by truck at the last moment were the least competent.

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The truck halted at the DC’s office and the subaltern went inside; the DC came out presently, a very worried man, and looked at the crowded women and children, and the few men amongst them.“Christ,”he said quietly as he realized the extent of the new responsibility.“Well, drive them to the accounts office over there; they must sit in the veranda for an hour or two and I’ll try and get something fixed up for them. Tell them not to wander about too much.”He turned back into the office.“I can send them down in fishing-boats, I think,”he said.“There are some of those left. That’s the best I can do. I haven’t got a launch.”

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The party were unloaded on to the veranda of the accounts office, and here they were able to stretch and sort themselves out a little. There were chatties of cold water in the office and the veranda was shady and cool. Jean and Bill Holland left Eileen sitting on the veranda with her back against the wall with the children about her, and walked into the village to buy what they could to replace the luggage they had lost. They were able to get a feeding-bottle for the baby, a little quinine, some salts for dysentery, and two tins of biscuits and three of tinned meat; they tried for mosquito nets, but they were all sold out. Jean got herself a few needles and thread, and seeing a large canvas haversack she bought that, too. She carried that haversack for the next three years.

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They went back to the veranda about teatime and displayed their purchases, and had a little meal of biscuits and lemon squash.

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Towards sunset the lighthouse-keepers at the river mouth telephoned to the DC that the Osprey was coming into the river. The Osprey was the customs launch that ran up and down the coast looking for smugglers from Sumatra across the Malacca Strait; she was a large Diesel-engined vessel about a hundred and thirty feet long, normally stationed at Penang; a powerful, seagoing ship. The DC’s face lit up; here was the solution to his problems. Whatever was the mission of the Osprey she must take his evacuees on board, and run them down the coast out of harm’s way. Presently he left his office, and walked down to the quay to meet the vessel as she berthed, to interview the captain.

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She came round the bend in the river, and he saw that she was loaded with troops, small stocky men in grey-green uniforms with rifles and fixed bayonets taller than themselves. With a sick heart he watched her as she came alongside, realizing that this was the end of all his endeavour.

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The Japanese came rushing ashore and arrested him immediately, and walked him back up the jetty to his office with guns at his back, ready to shoot him at the slightest show of resistance. But there were no troops there to resist; even the officer with the truck had driven off in an attempt to join his unit. The soldiers spread out and occupied the place without a shot; they came to the evacuees sitting numbly in the veranda of the accounts office. Immediately, with rifles and bayonets levelled, they were ordered to give up all fountain-pens and wristwatches and rings. Advised by their men folk, the women did so silently, and suffered no other molestation. Jean lost her watch and had her bag searched for a fountain-pen, but she had packed it in her luggage.

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An officer came presently, when night had fallen, and inspected the crowd on the veranda in the light of a hurricane lamp; he walked down the veranda thrusting his lamp forward at each group, a couple of soldiers hard on his heels with rifles at the ready and bayonets fixed. Most of the children started crying. The inspection finished, he made a little speech in broken English.“Now you are prisoners,”he said.“You stay here tonight. Tomorrow you go to prisoner camp perhaps. You do good things, obedience to orders, you will receive good from Japanese soldiers. You do bad things, you will be shot directly. So, do good things always. When officer come, you stand up and bow, always. That is good thing. Now you sleep.”

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One of the men asked,“May we have beds and mosquito nets?”

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“Japanese soldiers have no beds, no mosquito nets. Perhaps tomorrow you have beds and nets.”

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Another said,“Can we have some supper?”This had to be explained.“Food.”

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“Tomorrow you have food.”The officer walked away, leaving two sentries on guard at each end of the veranda.

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Kuala Panong lies in a marshy district of mangrove swamps at the entrance to a muddy river; the mosquitoes are intense. All night the children moaned and wailed fretfully, preventing what sleep might have been possible for the adults. The night passed slowly, wearily on the hard floor of the veranda; between the crushing misery of captivity and defeat and the torment of the mosquitoes few of the prisoners slept at all. Jean dozed a little in the early hours and woke stiff and aching and with swollen face and arms as a fresh outburst from the children heralded the more intense attack from the mosquitoes that comes in the hour before the dawn. When the first light came the prisoners were in a very unhappy state.

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There was a latrine behind the accounts office, inadequate for the numbers that had to use it They made the best of that, and there was nothing then to do but to sit and wait for what would happen. Holland and Eileen made sandwiches for the children of tinned meat and sweet biscuits, and after this small breakfast they felt better. Many of the others had some small supplies of food, and those that had none were fed by those who had. Nothing was provided for the prisoners that morning by the Japanese.

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In the middle of the morning an interrogation began. The prisoners were taken by families to the DC’s office, where a Japanese captain, whom Jean was to know later as Captain Yoniata, sat with a lieutenant at his side, who made notes in a child’s penny exercise book. Jean went in with the Hollands; when the captain enquired who she was she explained that she was a friend of the family travelling with them, and told him what her job was in Kuala Lumpur. It did not take very long. At the end the captain said,“Men go to prisoner camp today, womans and childs stay here. Men leave in afternoon, so you will now say farewell till this afternoon. Thank you.”

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They had feared this, and had discussed it in the veranda, but they had not expected it would come so soon. Holland asked,“May we know where the women and children will be sent to? Where will their camp be?”

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The officer said,“The Imperial Japanese Army do not make war on womans and on childs. Perhaps not go to camp at all, if they do good things, perhaps live in homes. Japanese soldiers always kind to womans and to childs.”

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They went back to the veranda and discussed the position with the other families. There was nothing to be done about it, for it is usual in war for men to be interned in separate camps from women and children, but none the less it was hard to bear. Jean felt her presence was unwanted with the Holland family, and went and sat alone on the edge of the veranda, feeling hungry and wondering, with gloom tempered by the buoyancy of youth, what lay ahead of her. One thing was certain; if they were to spend another night upon the veranda she must get hold of some mosquito repellent. There was a chemist’s shop just up the village that they had visited the afternoon before; it was probable that in such a district he had some repellent.

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As an experiment she attracted the attention of the sentry and pointed to her mosquito bites; then she pointed to the village and got down from the veranda on to the ground. Immediately he brought his bayonet to the ready and advanced towards her; she got back on to the veranda in a hurry. That evidently wouldn’t do. He scowled at her suspiciously, and went back to his position.

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There was another way. The latrine was behind the building up against a wall; there was no sentry there because the wall prevented any exit from the accounts office except by going round the building to the front. She moved after a time and went out of the back door. Sheltered from the view of the sentries by the building, she looked around. There were some children playing in the middle distance.

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She called softly in Malay,“Girl. You, you girl. Come here.”

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The child came towards her; she was about twelve years old. Jean asked,“What is your name?”

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She giggled shyly,“Halijah.”

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Jean said,“Do you know the shop that sells medicine? Where a Chinese sells medicine?”

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She nodded.“Chan Kok Fuan.”

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Jean said,“Go to Chan Kok Fuan, and if you give my message to him so that he comes to me, I will give you ten cents. Say that the Mem has Nyamok bites”—she showed her bites—“and he should bring ointments to the veranda, and he will sell many to the Mems. Do this, and if he comes with ointments, I will give you ten cents.”

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The child nodded and went off. Jean went back to the veranda and waited; presently the Chinaman appeared carrying a tray loaded with little tubes and pots. He approached the sentry and spoke to him, indicating his wish to sell his wares; after some hesitation the sentry agreed. Jean got six tubes of repellent and the rest was swiftly taken by the other women. Halijah got ten cents.

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Presently a Japanese orderly brought two buckets of a thin fish soup and another half full of boiled rice, dirty and unappetizing. There were no bowls or utensils to eat with. There was nothing to be done but to eat as best they could; at that time they had not fallen into the prisoner’s mode of life in which all food is strictly shared out and divided scrupulously, so that some got much more than others, who got little or none. There were still food supplies, however, so they fell back on the biscuits and the private stocks to supplement the ration.

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That afternoon the men were separated from their families, and marched off under guard. Bill Holland turned from his fat, motherly wife, his eyes moist“Goodbye, Jean,”he said heavily.“Good luck.”And then he said,“Stick with them, if you can, won’t you?”

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She nodded.“I’ll do that. We’ll all be in the same camp together.”

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The men were formed up together, seven of them, and marched off under guard.

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The party then consisted of eleven married women, and two girls, Jean and an anaemic girl called Ellen Forbes who had been living with one of the families; she had come out to be married, but it hadn’t worked out. Besides these there were nineteen children varying in age from a girl of fourteen to babies in arms; thirty-two persons in all. Most of the women could speak no language but their own; a few of them, including Eileen Holland, could speak enough Malay to control their servants, but no more.

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They stayed in the accounts office for forty-one days.

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The second night was similar to the first, except that the doors of the offices were opened for them and they were allowed to use the rooms. A second meal of fish soup was given to them in the evening, but nothing else whatever was provided for their use—no beds, no blankets, and no nets. Some of the women had their luggage with them and had blankets, but there were far too few to go round. A stern-faced woman, Mrs Horsefall, asked to see the officer; when Captain Yoniata came she protested at the conditions and asked for beds and nets.

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“No nets, no beds,”he said.“Very sorry for you. Japanese womans sleep on mat on floor. All Japanese sleep on mat. You put away proud thoughts, very bad thing. You sleep on mat like Japanese womans.”

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“But we’re English,”she said indignantly.“We don’t sleep on the floor like animals!”

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His eyes hardened; he motioned to the sentries, who gripped her by each arm. Then he hit her four stinging blows upon the face with the flat of his hand.“Very bad thoughts,”he said, and turned upon his heel, and left them. No more was said about beds.

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He came to inspect them the next morning and Mrs Horsefall, undaunted, asked for a water supply; she pointed out that washing was necessary for the babies and desirable for everyone. A barrel was brought into the smallest office that afternoon and was kept filled by coolies; they turned this room into a bathroom and washhouse. In those early days most of the women had money, and following the example of Chan Kok Fuan the shopkeepers of the village came to sell to the prisoners, so they accumulated the bare essentials for existence.

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Gradually they grew accustomed to their hardships. The children quickly learned to sleep upon the floor without complaint; the younger women took a good deal longer, and the women over thirty seldom slept for more than half an hour without waking in pain—but they did sleep. It was explained to them by Captain Yoniata that until the campaign was over the victorious Japanese had no time to construct prison camps for women. When all Malaya had been conquered they would be moved into a commodious and beautiful camp which would be built for them in the Cameron Highlands, a noted health resort up in the hills. There they would find beds and mosquito nets and all the amenities to which they were accustomed, but to earn these delights they must stay where they were and do good things. Doing good things meant getting up and bowing whenever he approached. After a few faces had been slapped and shins had been kicked by Captain Yoniata’s army boots, they learned to do this good thing.

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The food issued to them was the bare minimum that would support life, and was an unvarying issue of fish soup and rice, given to them twice a day. Complaint was useless and even dangerous; in the view of Captain Yoniata these were proud thoughts that had to be checked for the moral good of the complainant. Meals, however, could be supplied by a small Chinese restaurant in the village, and while money was available most of the families ordered one cooked meal a day from this restaurant.

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They received no medical attention and no drugs whatsoever. At the end of a week dysentery attacked them, and the nights were made hideous by screaming children stumbling with their mothers to the latrine. Malaria was always in the background, held in check by the quinine that they could still buy from Chan Kok Fuan at an ever increasing price. To check the dysentery Captain Yoniata reduced the soup and increased the rice ration, adding to the rice some of the dried, putrescent fish that had formerly made the soup. Later, he added to the diet a bucket of tea in the afternoon, as a concession to English manners.

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Through all this time, Jean shared with Mrs Holland the care of the three Holland children. She suffered a great deal from weakness and a feeling of lassitude induced, no doubt, by the change in diet, but she slept soundly most nights until wakened, which was frequently. Eileen Holland suffered much more. She was older, and could not sleep so readily upon the floor, and she had lost much of the resilience of her youth. She lost weight rapidly.

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On the thirty-fifth day, Esmé Harrison died.

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Esmé was a child of eight. She had had dysentery for some time and was growing very thin and weak; she slept little and cried a great deal. Presently she got fever, and for two days ran a temperature of a hundred and four as the malaria rose in her. Mrs Horsefall told Captain Yoniata that the child must see a doctor and go to hospital. He said he was very sorry, but there was no hospital. He would try and get a doctor, but the doctors were all fighting with the victorious army of the Emperor. That evening Esmé entered on a series of convulsions, and shortly before dawn she died.

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She was buried that morning in the Moslem cemetery behind the village; her mother and one other woman were allowed to attend the burial. They read a little of the service out of a prayer book before the uncomprehending soldiers and Malays, and then it was over. Life went on as before in the accounts office, but the children now had nightmares of death to follow them to sleep.

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At the end of six weeks Captain Yoniata faced them after the morning inspection. The women stood worn and draggled in the shade of the veranda facing him, holding the children by the hand. Many of the adults, and most of the children, by that time were thin and ill.

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He said,“Ladies, the Imperial Japanese Army has entered Singapore, and all Malaya is free. Now prisoner camps are being built for men and also for womans and childs. Prisoner camps are at Singapore and you go there. I am very sad your life here has been uncomfortable, but now will be better. Tomorrow you start to Kuala Lumpur, not more than you can go each day. From Kuala Lumpur you go by train to Singapore, I think. In Singapore you will be very happy. Thank you.”

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From Panong to Kuala Lumpur is forty-seven miles; it took a minute for his meaning to sink in. Then Mrs Horsefall said,“How are we to travel to Kuala Lumpur? Will there be a truck?”

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He said,“Very sorry, no truck. You walk, easy journeys, not more than you can go each day. Japanese soldier help you.”

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She said,“We can’t walk, with these children. We must have a truck.”

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These were bad thoughts, and his eyes hardened.“You walk,”he repeated.

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“But what are we to do with all the luggage?”

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He said,“You carry what you can. Presently the luggage is sent after you.”He turned, and went away.

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For the remainder of the day they sat in stunned desperation; those who had luggage sorted hopelessly through their things, trying to make packs that would hold the essentials and yet which would not be too heavy. Mrs Horsefall, who had been a schoolmistress in her time and had assumed the position of leader, moved among them, helping and advising. She had one child herself, a boy of ten called John; her own position was better than most, for it was possible for a woman to carry the necessities for one boy of that age. The position of the mothers with several younger children was bad indeed.

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Jean and Mrs Holland had less of a problem, for having lost their luggage they had less to start with and the problem of selection did not arise. They had few clothes to change into, and what they had could easily go into Jean’s haversack. They had acquired two blankets and three food bowls between them, and three spoons, and a knife and fork; they decided to make a bundle of these small possessions in the blankets, and they had a piece of cord to tie the bundle with and to make a sling, so that one could carry the haversack and one the bundle. Their biggest problem was their shoes, which had once been fashionable and were quite unsuitable for marching in.

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Towards evening, when the children had left them and they were alone with the baby in a corner, Mrs Holland said quietly,“My dear, I shan’t give up, but I don’t think I can walk very far. I’ve been so poorly lately.”

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Jean said,“It’ll be all right,”although deep in her mind she knew that it was not going to be all right at all.“You’re much fitter than some of the others,”and this possibly was true.“We’ll have to take it very slowly, because of the children. We’ll take several days over it.”

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“I know, my dear. But where are we going to stay at night? What are they going to do about that?”

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Nobody had an answer to that one.

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Rice came to them soon after dawn, and at about eight o’clock Captain Yoniata appeared with four soldiers, who were to be their guard upon the journey.“Today you walk to Ayer Penchis,”he said.“Fine day, easy journey. Good dinner when you get to Ayer Penchis. You will be very happy.”

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Jean asked Mrs Horsefall,“How far is Ayer Penchis?”

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“Twelve or fifteen miles, I should think. Some of us will never get that far.”

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Jean said,“We’d better do what the soldiers do, have a rest every hour. Hadn’t we?”

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“If they’ll let us.”

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It took an hour to get the last child out of the latrine and get the women ready for the march. The guards squatted on their heels; it was a small matter to them when the march started. Finally Captain Yoniata appeared again, his eyes hard and angry.“You walk now,”he said.“Womans remaining here are beaten, beaten very bad. You do good thing and be happy. Walk now.”

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There was nothing for it but to start. They formed into a little group and walked down the tarmac road in the hot sun, seeking the shade of trees wherever they occurred. Jean walked with Mrs Holland carrying the bundle of blankets slung across her shoulders as the hottest and the heaviest load, and leading the four-year-old Jane by the hand. Seven-year-old Freddie walked beside his mother, who carried the baby, Robin, and the haversack. Ahead of them strolled the Japanese sergeant; behind came the three privates.

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The women went very slowly, with frequent halts as a mother and child retired into the bushes by the roadside. There was no question of walking continuously for an hour and then resting; the dysentery saw to that. For those who were not afflicted at the moment the journey became one of endless, wearisome waits by the roadside in the hot sun, for the sergeant refused to allow the party to move on while any remained behind. Within the limits of their duty the Japanese soldiers were humane and helpful; before many hours had passed each was carrying a child.

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Slowly the day wore on. The sergeant made it very clear at an early stage that there would be no food and no shelter for the party till they got to Ayer Penchis, and it seemed to be a matter of indifference to him how long they took to get there. They seldom covered more than a mile and a half in the hour, on that first day. As the day went on they all began to suffer from their feet, the older women especially. Their shoes were quite unsuitable for walking long distances, and the heat of the tarmac swelled their feet, so that before long many of them were limping with foot pains. Some of the children went barefoot and got along very well. Jean watched them for a time, then stooped and took her own shoes off, savouring the unaccustomed road surface gingerly with her bare feet. She walked on carrying her shoes, picking her way with her eyes upon the ground, and her feet ceased to pain her though from time to time the tarmac grits hurt her soft soles. She got along better barefoot, but Eileen Holland refused to try it.

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They stumbled into Ayer Penchis at about six o’clock that evening, shortly before dark. This place was a Malay village which housed the labour for a number of rubber plantations in the vicinity. The latex-processing plant of one stood near at hand and by it was a sort of palm thatch barn, used normally for smoking sheets of the raw rubber hung on horizontal laths. It was empty now and the women were herded into this. They sank down wearily in a stupor of fatigue; presently the soldiers brought a bucket of tea and a bucket of rice and dried fish. Most of them drank cup after cup of the tea, but few had any appetite for the food.

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With the last of the light Jean strolled outside and looked around. The guards were busy cooking over a small fire; she approached the sergeant and asked if she might go into the village. He understood that, and nodded; away from Captain Yoniata discipline was lax.

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In the village she found one or two small shops, selling clothes, sweets, cigarettes, and fruit. She saw mangoes for sale, and bought a dozen, chaffering over the price with the Malay woman to conserve her slender cash. She ate one at once and felt better for it; at Kuala Panong they had eaten little fruit. She went back to the barn and found that the soldiers had provided one small lamp with an open wick fed by coconut oil.

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She distributed her mangoes to Eileen and the Holland children and to others, and found they were a great success. Armed with money from the women she went down to the village again and got four dozen more, and Presently all the women and children were in mango up to their ears. The soldiers came in with another bucket of tea and got a mango each for their pains, and so refreshed the women were able to eat most of the rice. Presently, they slept, exhausted, weak, and ill.

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The barn was full of rats, which ran over them and round them all night through. In the morning it was found that several of the children had been bitten.

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They woke aching in new places with the stiffness and fatigue of the day before; it did not seem possible that they could march again. The sergeant drove them on; this time the stage was to a place called Asahan. It was a shorter stage than the day before, about ten miles, and it had need to be, because they took as long getting to it. This time the delay was chiefly due to Mrs Collard. She was a heavy woman of about forty-five with two children, Harry and Ben, aged about ten and seven. She had suffered from both malaria and dysentery at Panong, and she was now very weak; she had to stop and rest every ten minutes, and when she stopped they all stopped since the sergeant would not allow them to separate. She was relieved of all load and the younger women took turns to walk by her and help her along.

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By the afternoon she had visibly changed colour; her somewhat ruddy face had now gone a mottled blue, and she was complaining constantly of pains in her chest. When they finally reached Asahan she was practically incapable of walking alone. Their accommodation was another rubber-curing barn. They half carried Mrs Collard into it and sat her up against the wall, for she said that lying down hurt her, and she could not breathe. Somebody went to fetch some water, and bathed her face, and she said,“Thank you, dearie. Give some of that to Harry and Ben, there’s a dear.”The woman took the children outside to wash them, and when she came back Mrs Collard had fallen over on her side, and was unconscious. Half an hour later she died.

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That evening Jean got more fruit for them, mangoes and bananas, and some sweets for the children. The Malay woman who supplied the sweets refused to take money for them.“No, mem,”she said.“It is bad that Nippon soldiers treat you so. This is our gift.”Jean went back to the barn and told the others what had happened, and it helped.

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In the flickering light of the cooking fire outside the barn Mrs Horsefall and Jean held a conference with the sergeant, who spoke only a very few words of English. They illustrated their meaning with pantomime.“Not walk tomorrow,”they said.“No. Not walk. Rest—sleep—tomorrow. Walk tomorrow, more women die. Rest tomorrow. Walk one day, rest one day.”

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They could not make out if he understood or not.“Tomorrow,”he said,“woman in earth.”

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It would be necessary to bury Mrs Collard in the morning. This would prevent an early start, and would make a ten-mile stage almost impossible. They seized upon this as an excuse.“Tomorrow bury woman in earth,”they said.“Stay here tomorrow.”

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They had to leave it so, uncertain whether he understood or not; he squatted down on his heels before the fire with the three privates. Later he came to Jean, his face alight with intelligence.“Walk one day, sleep one day,”he said.“Womans not die.”He nodded vigorously, and she called Mrs Horsefall, and they all nodded vigorously together, beaming with good nature. They were all so pleased with each other and with the diplomatic victory that they gave him a banana as a token of esteem.

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All that day Jean had walked barefoot; she had stubbed her toes two or three times and had broken her toenails; but she felt fresher that evening than she had felt for a long time. The effect of the march upon the women began to show itself that night in very different forms, according to their age. The women under thirty, and the children, were in most cases actually in better condition than when they left Panong; they were cheered by the easier discipline, and stimulated by the exercise and by the improvement in the diet brought by fruit and sweets. The older women were in much worse case. For them exhaustion outweighed these benefits; they lay or sat listlessly in the darkness, plagued by their children and too tired to eat. In many cases they were too tired even to sleep.

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In the morning they buried Mrs Collard. There was no burial ground at hand but the Malay headman showed them where they could dig the grave, in a corner of the compound, near a rubbish heap. The sergeant got two coolies and they dug a shallow grave; they lowered Mrs Collard into it covered by a blanket, and Mrs Horsefall read a little out of the Prayer Book. Then they took away the blanket because they could not spare that, and the earth was filled in. Jean found a carpenter who nailed a little wooden cross together for them, and refused payment; he was a Moslem or perhaps merely an animist, but he knew what the Tuans did for a Christian burial. They wrote JULIA COLLARD on it and the date of death with an indelible pencil, hoping it would survive the rain, and then they had a long discussion over the text to put underneath it. This interested every woman in the party, and kept them happy and mentally stimulated for half an hour. Mrs Holland, rather surprisingly, suggested Romans, xiv, 4;“Who art thou that judgest another man’s servant? to his own master he standeth or falleth”, meaning the sergeant who had made them march that day. But the other women did not care for that, and finally they compromised on“Peace, perfect peace, with loved ones far away”. That pleased everybody.

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They sat around and washed their clothes after the burial was over. Soap was getting very scarce amongst them, but so was money. Mrs Horsefall held a sort of meeting after rice and examined the money situation; half the women had no money left at all, and the rest had only about fifteen dollars between them. She suggested pooling this, but the mothers who had money left preferred to keep it for their own children; as there was so little in any case it did not seem worth while to worry them by making an issue of it. They all agreed, however, to share rations equally, and after that their feeding times were much better organized.

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Captain Yoniata turned up about midday, driving into Kuala Lumpur in the District Commissioner’s car. He stopped and got out, angry to find that they were not upon the road. He abused the sergeant for some minutes in Japanese; the man stood stiffly to attention, not saying a word in explanation or defence. Then he turned to the women.“Why you not walk?”he demanded angrily.“Very bad thing. You not walk, no food.”

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Mrs Horsefall faced him.“Mrs Collard died last night. We buried her this morning over there. If you make us walk every day like this, we shall all die. These women aren’t fit to march at all. You know that.”

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“What woman die of?”he inquired.“What illness?”

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“She had dysentery and malaria, as most of us have had. She died of exhaustion after yesterday’s march. You’d better come inside and look at Mrs Frith and Judy Thomson. They couldn’t possibly have marched today.”

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He walked into the barn, and stood looking at two or three women sitting listless in the semi-darkness. Then he said something to the sergeant and walked back to his car. At the door he turned to Mrs Horsefall.“Very sad woman die,”he said.“Perhaps I get a truck in Kuala Lumpur. I will ask.”He got into the car and drove away.

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His words went round the women quickly; he had gone to get a truck for them, and they would finish the journey to Kuala Lumpur by truck; there would be no more marching. Things weren’t so bad, after all. They would be sent by rail from Kuala Lumpur to Singapore, and there they would be put into a proper camp with other Englishwomen, where they could settle down and organize their lives properly, and get into a routine that would enable them to look after the children. A prison camp would have a doctor, too, and there was always some kind of a hospital for those who were really ill. They became much more cheerful, and the most listless ones revived, and came out and washed and made themselves a little more presentable. Their appearance was a great concern to them that afternoon. Kuala Lumpur was their shopping town where people knew them; they must get tidy before the truck came for them.

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Captain Yoniata appeared again about an hour before sunset; again he spoke to the sergeant, who saluted. Then he turned to the women.“You not go to Kuala Lumpur,”he said.“You go to Port Swettenham. English destroy bridges, so railway to Singapore no good. You go to Port Swettenham now, and then ship to Singapore. ”

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There was a stunned silence. Then Mrs Horsefall asked,“Is there going to be a truck to take us to Port Swettenham?”

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He said,“Very sorry no truck. You walk slow, easy stages. Two days, three days, you walk to Port Swettenham. Then ship take you to Singapore.”

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From Asahan to Port Swettenham is about thirty miles. She said,“Captain Yoniata, please be reasonable. Many of us are quite unfit to walk any further. Can’t you get some transport for the children, anyway?”

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He said,“English womans have proud thoughts, always. Too good to walk like Japanese womans. Tomorrow you walk to Bakri.”He got into his car and went away; that was the last they ever saw of him.

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Bakri is eleven miles in the general direction of Port Swettenham. The change in programme was the deepest disappointment to them, the more so as it showed irresolution in their destiny. Mrs Holland said despairingly,“I don’t see why he shouldn’t have known at Panong that the bridges were down, and not sent us to Kuala Lumpur at all. It makes one wonder if there’s going to be a ship when we get to Port Swettenham....”

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There was nothing for it, and next morning they started on the road again. They found that two of the privates had been taken away, and one remained to guard them, with the sergeant. This was of no consequence to their security because they had no desire to attempt to escape, but it reduced by half the help the guards had given them in carrying the younger children, so that it threw an extra burden on the mothers.

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That day for the first time Jean carried the baby, Robin: Mrs Holland was walking so badly that she had to be relieved. She still carried the haversack and looked after Freddie, but Jean carried the bundle of blankets and small articles, and the baby, and led Jane by the hand. She went barefoot as before; after some experiments she found that the easiest way to carry the baby was to perch him on her hip, as the Malay women did.

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The baby, curiously, gave them the least anxiety of any of the children. They fed it on rice and gravy from the fish soup or stew, and it did well. Once in the six weeks it had seemed to be developing dysentery and they had given it a tiny dose or two of Glauber’s salt, and it recovered. Mosquitoes never seemed to worry it, and it had not had fever. The other children were less fortunate. Both had had dysentery from time to time, and though they seemed now to be free of it they had gone very thin.

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They slept that night in the bungalow that had belonged to the manager of the Bakri tin mine, an Englishman. In the seven or eight weeks since he had abandoned it it had been occupied by troops of both sides and looted by the Malays; now little remained of it but the bare walls. Marvellously, however, the bath was still in order though filthily dirty, and there was a store of cut wood for the furnace that heated water. The sergeant, true to his promise, allowed them a day of rest here, and they made the most of the hot water for washing their clothes and themselves. With the small improvement in conditions their spirits revived.

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“I should think there’d be hot water on the ship,”said Mrs Holland.“There usually is, isn’t there?”

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They marched again next day to a place called Dilit; this was mostly a day spent marching down cart tracks in the rubber plantations. The tracks were mostly in the shade of the trees and this made it pleasant for them, and even the older women found the day bearable. They had some difficulty in finding the way. The sergeant spoke little Malay and had difficulty in understanding the Malay women latex-tappers that he asked for directions from time to time. Jean found that she could understand the answers that the women gave, and could converse with them, but having got the directions they required she had some difficulty in making the sergeant understand. They reached an agreement by the end of the day that she should talk to the women, who talked to her less shyly in any case, and she developed a sign language which the sergeant understood. From that time onwards Jean was largely responsible for finding the shortest way for the party to go.

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In the middle of the afternoon Ben Collard, the younger son of Mrs Collard who had died, trod on something while walking barefoot in the grass that bit him with poison fangs and got away. He said afterwards that it looked like a big beetle; possibly it was a scorpion. Mrs Horsefall took charge and laid him on the ground and sucked the wound to draw the poison from it, but the foot swelled quickly and the inflammation travelled up the leg to the knee. It was obviously painful and he cried a great deal. There was nothing to be done but carry him, and this was no easy matter for the women in their feeble condition because he was a boy of seven and weighed five stone. Mrs Horsefall carried him for an hour and after that the sergeant took him and carried him the rest of the way. By the time they got to Dilit the ankle was enormous and the knee was stiff.

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At Dilit there was no accommodation for them and no food. The place was a typical Malay village, the houses built of wood and palm thatch raised about four feet from the ground on posts, leaving a space beneath where dogs slept and fowls nested. They stood or sat wearily while the sergeant negotiated with the Malay headman: very soon he called for Jean, and she joined the tri-lingual discussion. The village had rice and could prepare a meal for them, but the headman wanted payment, and was only with difficulty induced to agree to provide rice for so many on the word of the sergeant that they would be paid some day. As regards accommodation he said flatly that there was none, and the party must sleep under the houses with the dogs and poultry; later he agreed to move the people from one house, so that the thirty prisoners had a roof to sleep under on a floor about fifteen feet square.

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Jean secured a corner for their party, and Eileen Holland settled into it with the children and the baby. A few feet from them Mrs Horsefall was working on Ben Collard. Somebody had some permanganate crystals and someone else an old razor blade; with this they cut the wound open a little, in spite of the child’s screams, and put in crystals and bound it up; then they applied hot fomentations. There was nothing Jean could do, and she wandered outside.

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There was a sort of village kitchen, and here the Japanese private was superintending the activities of women of the village who were preparing rice. At a house nearby the headman was sitting at the head of the steps leading up to his house, squatting on his heels and smoking a long pipe: he was a grey-haired old man wearing a sarong and what once had been a khaki drill jacket. Jean crossed to him and said rather shyly in Malay,“I am sorry we have been forced to come here, and have made trouble for you.”

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He stood up and bowed to the Mem.“It it no trouble,”he said.“We are sorry to see Mems in such a state. Have you come far?”

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She said,“From Bakri today.”

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He made her come up into the house: there was no chair and she sat with him on the floor at the doorless entrance. He asked their history, and she told him what had happened, and he grunted. Presently the wife came from within the house bearing two cups of coffee without sugar or milk; Jean thanked her in Malay, and she smiled shyly, and withdrew into the house again.

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Presently the headman said,“The Short One”—he meant the Japanese sergeant—“says you must stay here tomorrow.”

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Jean said,“We are too weak to march each day. The Japanese allow us to rest a day between each day of marching. If we may stay here tomorrow it will help us a great deal. The sergeant says he can get money for the food.”

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“The Short Ones never pay for food,”the headman said.“Neverthe-less you shall stay.”

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She said,“I can do nothing but thank you.”

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He raised his grey old head.“It is written in the Fourth Surah, ‘Men’s souls are naturally inclined to covetousness; but if ye be kind towards women and fear to wrong them, God is well acquainted with what ye do’.”

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She sat with the old man till rice was ready; then she left him and went to her meal. The other women looked at her curiously.“I saw you sitting with the headman, chatting away,”said one.“Just as if you were old chums.”

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Jean smiled.“He gave me a cup of coffee.”

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“Just fancy that! There’s something in knowing how to talk to them in their own language, isn’t there? What did he talk about?”

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Jean thought for a minute.“This and that—about our journey. He talked about God a little.”

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The women stared at her.“You mean, his own God? Not the real God?”

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“He didn’t differentiate,”Jean said.“Just God.”

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They rested all next day and then marched to Klang, three or four miles outside Port Swettenham. Little Ben Collard was neither better nor worse: the leg was very much swollen. The chief trouble with him now was physical weakness: he had eaten nothing since the injury for nothing would stay down, and none of the children by that time had any reserves of strength. The headman directed the villagers to make a litter for him in the form of a stretcher of two long bamboo poles with spreaders and a woven palm mat between and they put him upon this and took turns at carrying it.

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They got to Klang that afternoon, and here there was an empty schoolhouse: the sergeant put them into this and went off to a Japanese encampment near at hand, to report and to arrange rations for them.

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Presently an officer arrived to inspect them, marching at the head of a guard of six soldiers. This officer, whom they came to know as Major Nemu, spoke good English. He said,“Who are you people? What do you want here?”

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They stared at him. Mrs Horsefall said,“We are prisoners, from Panong. We are on our way to the prisoner-of-war camp in Singapore. Captain Yoniata in Panong sent us here under guard, to be put on a ship to Singapore.”

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“There are no ships here,”he said.“You should have stayed in Panong.”

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It was no good arguing, nor had they the energy.“We were sent here,”she repeated dully.

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“They had no right to send you here,”he said angrily.“There is no prison camp here.”

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There was a long, awkward silence: the women stared at him in blank despair. Mrs Horsefall summoned up her flagging energy again.“May we see a doctor?”she asked.“Some of us are very ill—one child especially. One woman died upon the way.

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“What did she die of?”he asked quickly.“Plague?”

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“Nothing infectious. She died of exhaustion.”

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“I will send a doctor to examine you all. You will stay here for tonight, but you cannot stay for long. I have not got sufficient rations for my own command, let alone feeding prisoners.”He turned and walked back to the camp.

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A new guard was placed upon the schoolhouse: they never saw the friendly sergeant or the private again. Presumably they were sent back to Panong. A Japanese doctor, very young, came to them within an hour; he had them all up one by one and examined them for infectious disease. Then he was about to take his departure, but they made him stay and look at little Ben Collard’s leg. He ordered them to continue with the hot fomentations. When they asked if he could not be taken into hospital he shrugged his shoulders and said,“I inquire.”

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They stayed in that schoolhouse under guard, day after day. On the third day they sent for the doctor again, for Ben Collard was obviously worse. Reluctantly the doctor ordered his removal to the hospital in a truck. On the sixth day they heard that he had died.

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Jean Paget crouched down on the floor beside the fire in my sitting-room; outside a change of wind had brought the London rain beating against the window.

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“People who spent the war in prison camps have written a lot of books about what a bad time they had,”she said quietly, staring into the embers.“They don’t know what it was like, not being in a camp.”

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序号 英文/音标 中文解释 更多操作

felted

['feltɪd]

v. 把 ... 制成毡(使 ... 粘结)

earlier

['ɜːlɪə]

adj.早的;初期的

Freshwater

['freʃwɔːtə(r)]

adj.淡水的;内河(航行)的

differentiate

[ˌdɪfə'renʃieɪt]

vt.区分;使差异;求导数

competent

['kɒmpɪtənt]

adj.有能力的;足够的;胜任的

nineteen

[ˌnaɪn'tiːn]

十九

Oriental

[ˌɔːri'entl]

adj.东方的;东方人的;(宝石)贵重的;优质的

Jean

[dʒiːn]

n.斜纹布(复数)jeans:牛仔裤.

skater

['skeɪtə(r)]

n.滑雪的人;滑冰者

reminiscent

[ˌremɪ'nɪsnt]

adj.怀旧的;引人联想的

skate

[skeɪt]

v.溜冰;滑冰

swift

[swɪft]

adj.快的;迅速的;敏捷的

Mummy

['mʌmi]

n.木乃伊

tights

[taɪts]

n.贴身衬衣;紧身衣;裤袜

blitz

[blɪts]

n.闪击(尤指空袭);(突击性或集中性的)工作

blacken

['blækən]

v.(使)变黑;诽谤

pavement

['peɪvmənt]

n.人行道

diploma

[dɪ'pləʊmə]

n.文凭

typist

['taɪpɪst]

n.打字员

Unmarried

[ˌʌn'mærid]

adj.未婚的;独身的

unmarried

[ˌʌn'mærid]

adj.未婚的;独身的

trivial

['trɪviəl]

adj.不重要的;琐碎的

flare

[fleə(r)]

n.闪光;闪光信号;【天】耀斑;(衣裙等)张开

grind

[ɡraɪnd]

v.磨;压迫;碾碎;磨得吱吱响;逐渐停顿

amenity

[ə'miːnəti]

n.适意;舒适;便利设施(复)

leisure

['leʒə(r)]

n.闲暇;休闲

Japan

[dʒə'pæn]

n.日本

Wales

[weɪlz]

n.英国威尔士(英国的一部分;位于大不列颠岛西南)

catastrophe

[kə'tæstrəfi]

n.大灾难;大祸;彻底失败

evacuate

[ɪ'vækjueɪt]

v.疏散;撤出;排泄

Singapore

[ˌsiŋgə'pɔ:]

n.新加坡

peninsula

[pə'nɪnsjələ]

n.半岛

blunt

[blʌnt]

adj.钝的;迟钝的;直率的

suitcase

['suːtkeɪs]

n.手提箱

raffle

['ræfl]

n.废物;垃圾;抽奖售物

strait

[streɪt]

n.海峡;困境

Holland

['hɔlənd]

n.荷兰

Robin

['rɒbɪn]

罗宾(人名)

recuperate

[rɪ'kuːpəreɪt]

v.(使)恢复;(使)复原

singular

['sɪŋɡjələ(r)]

a. 非凡的；卓越的;

unfit

[ʌn'fɪt]

adj.不合适的;不健康的

evacuation

[ɪˌvækju'eɪʃn]

n.撤离;疏散

tyre

['taɪə(r)]

n.轮胎

muddy

['mʌdi]

adj.泥泞的;浑浊的;糊涂的

Bill

[bɪl]

①帐单；清单;

tropic

['trɒpɪk]

n.回归线;热带

thirst

[θɜːst]

vi.渴望;渴求;口渴

utterly

['ʌtəli:]

adv.完全;全然;绝对

uneasy

[ʌn'iːzi]

adj.不自在的 ；心神不安的 ；不稳定的;不舒服的

motionless

['məʊʃnləs]

adj.不动的;静止的

fancy

['fænsi]

n. 【C】设想；幻想；空想;

tense

[tens]

adj.紧张的;绷紧的;拉紧的

infiltrate

['ɪnfɪltreɪt]

v.(使)渗透;(使)渗入;潜入

past

[pɑːst]

a. 过去的;

rousing

['raʊzɪŋ]

adj.使奋起的;使感动的;使醒的,

pick

[pɪkt]

采摘，挑选；

forcible

['fɔːsəbl]

adj.强制的;强迫的;有说服力的;用力的

foreman

['fɔːmən]

n.领班;工头;陪审团团长

ganger

['gæŋə]

n.工头;领班;班主

railway

['reɪlweɪ]

n.【C】铁路

veranda

[və'rændə]

n.阳台;游廊

unload

[ˌʌn'ləʊd]

vt. & vi. 卸(货)；卸下;

quinine

[kwɪ'niːn]

n.奎宁

dysentery

['dɪsəntri]

n.痢疾

tin

[tɪn]

n.锡;罐头;听头

biscuit

['bɪskɪt]

n.饼干

customs

['kʌstəmz]

n.海关

smuggler

['smʌɡlə(r)]

n.走私者

Strait

[streɪt]

n.海峡;困境

quay

[kiː]

n.码头

bayonet

['beɪənət]

n.刺刀

endeavor

[ɪn'devə]

n.尽力;努力

supper

['sʌpə(r)]

n.晚饭

sentry

['sentri]

n.卫兵;哨兵

moan

[məʊn]

n.呻吟声;抱怨声

wail

[weɪl]

v.痛哭;发出似哭的尖声;悲叹

fretful

['fretfl]

adj.烦燥的;焦燥的

wearily

['wɪərəli]

adv.疲倦地;厌烦地

doze

[dəʊz]

v.打瞌睡

outburst

['aʊtbɜːst]

n.爆发;突发;(感情)迸发

herald

['herəld]

n.使者;传令官;先驱;预兆

inadequate

[ɪn'ædɪkwət]

adj.不适当的;不充分的

interrogation

[ɪnˌterə'ɡeɪʃn]

n.审问;问号

penny

['peni]

n.便士;【美】分

Imperial

[ɪm'pɪəriəl]

adj.帝国的;皇帝的

intern

['ɪntɜːn]

n.实习生;拘留犯

camped

[kæmp]

露宿的

unwanted

[ˌʌn'wɒntɪd]

adj.不需要的;多余的;无用的;讨厌的;不受欢迎的

buoyancy

['bɔɪənsi]

n.浮力;弹性;心情愉快

repellent

[rɪ'pelənt]

n.驱虫剂;防水剂

scowl

[skaʊl]

n.愁容;皱眉

Malay

[mə'leɪ]

n.马来人;马来语

giggle

['ɡɪɡl]

v.咯咯地笑

cent

[sent]

n.分

ointment

['ɔɪntmənt]

n.药膏;油膏;软膏

ware

[weə(r)]

n.制品;器具;货物

orderly

['ɔːdəli]

adj.有秩序的;整齐的;一丝不苟的

utensil

[juː'tensl]

n.【C】器具;用具

scrupulous

['skruːpjələs]

adj.小心谨慎的;细心的;严谨的

ration

['ræʃn]

n.定额;定量;配给

marches

[mɑːtʃ]

1. n. (尤指英格兰与苏格兰或威尔士的)边界地区, 2.动词march的第三人称单数形式

Goodbye

[gʊdˈbaɪ]

再见

Ellen

[ˈelən]

n.埃伦(女子名)

indignant

[ɪn'dɪɡnənt]

adj.愤慨的;愤愤不平的

shopkeeper

['ʃɒpkiːpə(r)]

n.店主;零售商人

gradual

['ɡrædʒuəl]

adj.逐渐的;逐步的;平缓的

highland

['haɪlənd]

n.高地

shin

[ʃɪn]

n. 胫骨

complainant

[kəmˈpleɪnənt]

n.原告.

hideous

['hɪdiəs]

adj.丑陋的;可怕的;可憎的;令人惊骇的

concession

[kən'seʃn]

n.让步;特许权;租界;妥协

waken

['weɪkən]

v.唤醒;醒来;觉醒;激发

resilience

[rɪ'zɪliəns]

n.适应力;弹性

Emperor

['empərə(r)]

n.皇帝

convulsion

[kən'vʌlʃn]

n.抽搐;震动;动乱

burial

['beriəl]

n.埋葬;葬礼;坟墓

Presently

['prezntli]

adv.不久;一会儿;现在;目前

stun

[stʌn]

vt.使震惊;使目瞪口呆;使昏迷

hopeless

['həʊpləs]

adj.没有希望的;绝望的;无可救药的

bundle

['bʌndl]

n.捆;束

poorly

['pɔːli]

adv.贫穷地;不充份地;贫乏地

squat

[skwɒt]

v.蹲下;蹲坐;擅自占地

stroll

[strəʊl]

n.闲逛;漫步

afflict

[ə'flɪkt]

vt.使苦恼;折磨

humane

[hjuː'meɪn]

adj.仁慈的;人道的

indifference

[ɪn'dɪfrəns]

n.不重视;无兴趣;漠不关心

limp

[lɪmp]

n.跛行

stoop

[stuːp]

n.佝偻;弯腰;屈尊;俯冲 vi. 屈身，弯腰;

labour

[ˈleɪbə]

n. 劳动;劳动力

horizontal

[ˌhɒrɪ'zɒntl]

adj.水平的;横的

lath

[lɑːθ]

n.木板条

herd

[hɜːd]

n. 【C】(牛、马、猪、象等)群;

mango

['mæŋɡəʊ]

n.芒果

chaffer

['tʃæfə]

v. 讲价; 讨价还价

coconut

['kəʊkənʌt]

n.椰子

stiffness

[stɪfnəs]

n.僵硬;硬度

chiefly

['tʃiːfli]

adv.主要地

Harry

['hæri]

vt.不断骚扰;打扰;侵扰;侵掠

mottle

['mɒtl]

vt.使成杂色;弄成斑驳

incapable

[ɪn'keɪpəbl]

adj.无能力的;不胜任的

accommodation

[əˌkɒmə'deɪʃn]

n.膳宿

flicker

['flɪkə(r)]

n.闪烁;闪光;颤动

esteem

[ɪ'stiːm]

n.尊敬

toenail

['təʊneɪl]

n.脚趾甲;斜钉

exhaustion

[ɪɡ'zɔːstʃən]

n.疲惫;筋疲力尽;竭尽

outweigh

[ˌaʊt'weɪ]

v.比 ... 重要;比 ... 有价值

listless

['lɪstləs]

adj.无精打采的

rubbish

['rʌbɪʃ]

n.垃圾

heap

[hiːp]

n.堆;许多;破车

thou

[ðaʊ]

pron.【古】你;尔;汝

scarce

[skeəs]

adj.缺乏的;不足的;稀少的;罕见的

angrily

['æŋɡrəli]

adv.气愤地

sergeant

['sɑːdʒənt]

n.中士;巡佐;军士;警官;(法庭或议会等地的)警卫官

programme

[ˈprəʊgræm]

n.电视台播放的各种电视节目

destiny

['destəni]

n.命运

despairing

[dɪ'speərɪŋ]

adj.感到绝望的,

stew

[stjuː]

n.炖汤;焖;烦恼

fortunate

['fɔːtʃənət]

adj.幸运的;侥幸的;带来幸运的

loot

[luːt]

n.掠夺品;赃物;钱

furnace

['fɜːnɪs]

n.炉子

revive

[rɪ'vaɪv]

vt.使重生;恢复精神;唤醒

bearable

['beərəbl]

adj.承受得住的;经得起的;可忍受的

tread

[tred]

n.步法

poison

['pɔɪzn]

n.毒药;毒害;败坏道德之事

fang

[fæŋ]

n.尖牙;毒牙

swelling

['swelɪŋ]

n.肿胀物;膨胀,

traveled

['trævld]

adj.有旅行经验的;旅客多的,

feeble

['fiːbl]

adj.虚弱的;无力的

fowl

[faʊl]

n.禽;禽肉

razor

['reɪzə(r)]

n.剃刀

superintend

[ˌsuːpərɪn'tend]

v.管理;监督;指挥

grunt

[ɡrʌnt]

v.咕哝;(猪等)打呼噜

headman

['hedmæn]

n.队长;首领;酋长

acquaint

[ə'kweɪnt]

vt.使了解;使熟知;告知

Chum

[tʃʌm]

n.密友;鱼饵

litter

['lɪtə(r)]

n. 【U】杂乱物；废纸;

stretcher

['stretʃə(r)]

n.担架;伸张器;横档

bamboo

[ˌbæm'buː]

n.竹子

spreader

['spredə(r)]

n.散布者;撒布机(分离器);涂黄油的刀

dully

['dʌlli]

adv.模糊地;迟钝地;阴郁地

despair

[dɪ'speə(r)]

n.绝望;失望

infective

[ɪn'fektɪv]

adj.易传染的;传染性的

crouch

[kraʊtʃ]

v.蹲下;屈膝

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