said and turned away.
Forsyth watched him until he had disappeared. You can say that a million times, he thought exhaustedly. I don't understand anything about any of you.
He turned back to Changi Gate. There were, as always, groups of men silently staring out. The gate was, as always, guarded. But the guards were officers and no longer Japanese or Koreans. The day he had arrived, he had ordered them away and posted an officer guard to keep the camp safe and to keep the men in. But the guards were unnecessary, for no one had tried to break out. I don't understand. Forsyth told himself tiredly. It doesn't make sense. Nothing here makes sense.
It was only then that he remembered he had not reported the suspicious American — the corporal. He had had so much to worry about that the man had completely slipped his mind. Bloody fool, now it's too late! Then he recalled that the American major was coming back. Good, he thought, I'll tell him. He can deal with him.
. Two days later more Americans arrived. And a real American General.
He was swarmed like a queen bee by photographers and reporters and aides. The General was taken to the Camp Commandant's bungalow.
Peter Marlowe and Mac and Larkin were ordered there. The General picked up the earphone of the radio and pretended to listen.
'Hold that, General!'
'Just one more, General!'
Peter Marlowe was shoved to the front and told to bend over the radio as though explaining it to the General.
'Not that way — let's see your face. Yeah, let's see your bones, Sam, in the light. That's better.'
That night the third and last and greatest fear crucified Changi.
Fear of tomorrow.
All Changi knew, now, that the war was over. The future had to be faced.
The future outside of Changi. The future was now. Now.
And the men of Changi withdrew into themselves. There was nowhere else to go. Nowhere to hide. Nowhere but inside. And inside was terror.
The Allied Fleet arrived at Singapore. More outsiders converged on Changi.
It was then that the questions began.
Name, rank, serial number, unit?
Where did you fight?
Who died?
Who was killed?
What about atrocities? How many times were you beaten? Who did you see bayoneted?
No one? Impossible! Think, man. Use your head! Remember. How many died? On the boat? Three, four, five? Why? Who was there?
Who's left in your unit? Ten? Out of a regiment? Good, that's better. Now, how did the others die? Yes, the details!
Ah, you saw them bayoneted?
Three Pagoda Pass? Ah, the railroad! Yes. We know about that. What can you add? How much food did you get? Anesthetics? Sorry, of course, I forgot. Cholera?
Yes, I know all about Camp Three. What about Fourteen? The one on the Burma-Siam border? Thousands died there, didn't they?
With the questions, the outsiders brought opinions. The men of Changi heard them furtively whispered, one to another.
Did you see that man? My God, it's impossible! He's walking around naked! In public!
And look over there! There's a man doing it in public! And good God, he's not using paper! He's using water and his hands! My God — they all do!
Look at that filthy bed! My God, the place is crawling with bugs!
What degradation these poor swine have sunk to — worse than animals!
Ought to be in an insane asylum! Certainly the Japs did it to them, but all the same it'd be safer to lock them up. They don't seem to know what's right and what's wrong!
Look at them lap up that filth! My God, you give them bread and potatoes and they want rice!
Got to get back to the ship. Can't wait to bring the fellows out. Chance of a lifetime, never see this again.
My God, those nurses are taking a chance, walking around.
Rubbish, they're safe enough. Seen a lot of the girls coming up to have a look. By jove, that one's a corker!
Disgusting the way the POW's are looking at them!
With the questions and the opinions the outsiders brought answers.
Ah, Flight Lieutenant Marlowe? Yes, we've had a cable answer from the Admiralty. Captain Marlowe RN is, er, I'm afraid your father's dead. Killed in action on the Murmansk run. September 10, '43. Sorry. Next!
Captain Spence? Yes. We've a lot of mail for you. You can get it at the guardhouse. Oh yes. Your — your wife and child were killed in London in an air raid. January this year. Sorry. A V2. Terrible. Next!
Lieutenant Colonel Jones? Yes, sir. You'll be on the first party leaving tomorrow. All senior officers are going. Bon voyage! Next!
Major McCoy? Oh yes, you were inquiring about your wife and son. Let me see, they were aboard the Empress of Shropshire, weren't they? The ship that sailed from Singapore on February 9, 1942? Sorry, we've no news, except that we know it was sunk somewhere off Borneo. There are rumors that there were survivors, but if there were or where they would be, no one knows. You'll have to be patient! We hear there are POW camps all over the Celebes-Borneo — you'll have to be patient! Next!
Ah, Colonel Smedly-Taylor? Sorry, bad news, sir. Your wife was killed in an air raid. Two years ago. Your youngest son, Squadron Leader P. R.
Smedly-Taylor VC, was lost over Germany in '44. Your son John is presently in Berlin with the occupation forces. Here is his address. Rank?
Lieutenant Colonel. Next!
Colonel Larkin? Oh, Australians are dealt with somewhere else. Next!
Captain Grey? Ah, well, it's somewhat difficult. You see, you were reported lost in action in '42. I'm afraid your wife remarried. She's — er —well, here's her present address. I don't know, sir. You'll have to ask the Solicitor General's Office. Afraid legalities are out of my line. Next!
Captain Ewart? Oh yes, the Malayan Regiment? Yes. I'm happy to tell you your wife and three children are safe and well. They're at Cha Song Camp in Singapore. Yes, we've transport for you this afternoon. I beg your
