‘You … should … go now,’ says the young soldier, closing his eyes. Vivian feels the slightest pressure as he squeezes her hand.
She doesn’t move until sometime later, when the nurse returns and lightly feels for a pulse.
‘He’s gone,’ she says.
‘I know,’ sighs Vivian. ‘He died about twenty minutes ago. Is it OK if I sit with him for a little longer?’
‘Of course. But not too long, you need your sleep.’
‘Leave him alone!’ Norah shouts. ‘Can’t you see he’s sick? We need to stay together.’
The next morning, when the men, women and children are informed they are to move camp, they are taken to the pier and, once again, the Japanese soldiers begin to separate the men from the women. Norah can’t help but lash out when they approach John.
Ena grabs Norah’s arm, pulling her away as the soldier raises his hand to strike her. Released from her grip, John is yanked towards the men’s group.
‘Ena! Do something! We have to stop them,’ Norah cries.
‘Norah, please. Don’t make it any worse or they’ll take it out on him.’
‘John!’ Norah calls.
Her husband turns around. Slowly, he raises his arm in a wave. ‘Look after yourself, my darling. Look after yourself, I’ll be fine.’
And he and the other men are gone.
Norah drops to the ground, sobbing. Women and children walk around her, no one says anything or does anything to help her. They are all feeling the same pain.
Ena helps Norah to her feet; Norah knows they must keep moving, and they join the throng of women and children walking onto the pier. She no longer knows who the tears she sheds are intended for: her sister, herself, her husband or her beloved daughter.
Chapter 5
Camp II, Irenelaan, Palembang, Southern Sumatra
March 1942–October 1943
‘How long do we have to stay here?’ Jean wails.
‘Jean, please think about something else, won’t you?’ Nesta pleads.
Nesta can feel the hours passing on this pier, can feel the sun pounding them all into hopeless submission. There’s nothing she can do for anyone.
They’re all still here the next morning. Nesta watches a beautiful rainbow in the sky overhead as dawn breaks. Two aged, dilapidated freighters approach the dock and drop anchor a little way off. As several small launches make their way towards the pier, the Japanese soldiers become agitated, pushing through the crowd, roughly pulling anyone still sitting onto their feet.
‘Well, at least we’ll be out of the sun.’ Nesta tries to reassure the nurses, but everyone looks too exhausted to respond.
As each launch pulls up to the pier, the prisoners are shoved forwards, loaded onto the boats and taken to the freighters. This carries on until the pier is empty and the ships begin to heave their way through the Moesi River, slowly navigating through the jungle. As they move through the oil-slicked water, Nesta can’t take her eyes off the hulls of partially submerged ships, wondering what stories they could tell.
Late in the afternoon, they arrive at another set of docks: Palembang, Sumatra. The sick and sorry human cargo shamble off the freighters and are led to a clearing at the end of the pier.
Once again, hours pass, but Nesta and her nurses sit quietly, knowing that a quick slap or a prod with a bayonet will be freely given should they raise their heads above the parapet. Just when everyone thinks they’re about to pass out, a convoy of trucks rattles up and loads the women and children on board. They pass through villages, down dusty roads lined by locals cheering, waving small flags adorned with a red disc emanating rays of sunshine – the flag of the Rising Sun.
‘Boo, boo!’ one of the nurses calls out.
‘Boo, boo,’ echoes a chorus of brave voices.
The locals stop jeering, stunned at this challenge. Several of the nurses stick their tongues out, making gestures they would deem vulgar at any other time. Japanese soldiers run up to each truck driver, shouting at the women and ordering the drivers to speed up.
It is dark when the trucks stop outside what is obviously a school. For the first time in nearly two days, they are given something to eat and drink before finding a classroom to bed down in for the night. But sleep doesn’t come easily; the guards insist that all lights must remain on, and the mosquitoes are relentless.