Dorothy nodded obediently and looked up at the newcomer. She was a bit older than Dorothy, her dark hair greying at the temples. Her collarbones stuck out unnaturally above the neckline of her thin blue cotton dress. All the prisoners had lost weight to an unhealthy degree during their time in the camps, but this woman looked seriously unwell.
‘I’m not sure there’s much to show.’ Dorothy gave a wry smile after the guard had left. ‘You pull the weeds out like this.’ She demonstrated, holding up a spindly green plant. ‘Then pop them in the basket like this.’ She dropped it into the bamboo basket. ‘And that’s pretty much it!’
‘Alright, thanks.’ The woman coughed, a nasty, hacking cough, then turned away to spit phlegm on the ground.
‘Sorry,’ she muttered, sounding embarrassed. ‘Chest’s bad again. It’s this bleedin’ humidity.’
Dorothy offered her sympathy and indicated for the woman to work opposite her. Then she put the basket between them and got to work. The basket soon started to fill up as they made their way along the row of young plants.
They worked in silence for a few minutes, then Dorothy started humming the song again and smiled when the other woman joined in. But it was short lived as another coughing fit took hold of her. Again, she turned away and spat. Dorothy saw the phlegm on the ground and noticed that it contained blood. She tried not to show her alarm.
‘I’m Dorothy, by the way,’ she said with a smile. ‘I haven’t seen you before, what’s your name?’
‘Brenda,’ the other woman said.
Dorothy recognised the name immediately. ‘Oh! Are you Maureen’s friend? With the two little ones, Susie and Billy?’
Brenda nodded. ‘Yes, we shared a cell over in Changi. Haven’t seen much of her since we were moved here, though. I’m in Hut Eight but I’ve not been out and about much; haven’t been too well.’ As if on cue, she coughed again, a deep, rattling sound that made Dorothy wince. ‘But now the Japs seem to think I’m well enough to make myself useful, so here I am.’ She shrugged.
‘Stop talking! Must work!’ A guard came over and shouted at them.
‘I’m sorry,’ Dorothy muttered once the guard was out of earshot. ‘Listen, I know you spent time at the hospital in Changi Jail. Did you see anything of Dr Archie while you were there? I worked with him in the hospital, you see. I just wanted to find out if he was alright.’
‘Oh!’ A look of recognition spread across Brenda’s face. ‘That’s where I’ve seen you before!’
‘Yes.’ Dorothy felt a strange sense of déjà vu. ‘I worked there as a nurse. I knew Dr Archie from before, though. We worked together at the Alexandra Military Hospital.’
Brenda shook her head sadly. ‘Poor chap!’
Dorothy dropped a handful of weeds into the basket and looked at Brenda. ‘What do you mean?’
‘You mean you didn’t hear what happened to him?’
Dorothy shook her head, her pulse quickening.
‘Well, it was all a bit hush-hush.’ Brenda frowned. ‘But a while back, we heard that he was given one hell of a beating by the guards. Then he just disappeared, no sign of him. And that’s it, that’s all.’ She shrugged. ‘No one really had a clue what became of him. The other hospital staff didn’t know. But I thinkeveryone feared the worst. Such a shame, he was a good doctor and such a nice man.’
Tears sprang to Dorothy’s eyes. ‘Oh God!’ she cried, her face creasing in misery.
‘You, stop talking!’ The guard had returned. He shoved Dorothy hard in the back with the butt of his rifle and she tumbled face first into the sticky brown mud.
She tried to regain her composure as she pushed herself back up, bowing low in apology to the guard.
‘I’m sorry.’ Brenda whispered as the guard moved off. Her face was full of concern. ‘Friend of yours, was he? The doctor?’
Dorothy nodded and wiped a mess of mud and tears from her face. She swallowed hard and fought to compose herself. She was to blame. Whatever they had done to Dr Archie, it was all her fault. He had been the kindest and best of men, her rock during the hardest time of her life. And now he was gone.
‘I’m sorry’ Brenda repeated with a long sigh. ‘Too many lives have been lost in this bloody war. I’m glad it’s finished in Europe, but when will it ever end for us?’
The answer to Brenda’s question finally came a couple of months later. In early August, tiny seeds of hope began to flourish for the starved and exhausted prisoners when news came that the Allied troops had bombed two key Japanese cities. Dorothy had never heard of Hiroshima or Nagasaki, but suddenly those names were on everyone’s lips as the key to ending the war. Dorothy found herself facing conflicting emotions as she thought of the cities that had been decimated and the innocent lives that had been lost. Thousands of women and children who, like her, had not chosen this war, had had their lives cut short.
As the days passed, there was an increasing mood of optimism around the camp. Encouraging rumours buzzed around that the Japanese surrender was imminent. As if to confirm this, the prison guards became distracted, increasingly preoccupied by what was to come. There were no more physical punishments for prisoners who stepped out of line and their manner was much less hostile, verging on cordial, as if fearful of the retribution that could come. The tide was on the turn and Dorothy finally let herself dream of a life beyond Sime Road Camp.
Eventually, on the 15th of August, 1945, the news came that everyone had been waiting for. After six long, gruelling years, the war was finally over.
CHAPTER 27
Penrose Farm, 6 June 1946
