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Bill Cunneen's Story
Our stay in Nong Peng was short. We never did find out why we were sent there. We went back to Kamburi, were crammed into hot steel rice trucks, and sent on our way to the River Valley Road Camp in Singapore.
After a brief rest, we were packed off to Japan to work in their coalmines. Not exactly a promising outlook. We were loaded on the `Rakoyu Maru', a very dilapidated old Jap cargo ship, her holds already laden with rubber and kapok, and set off in convoy from Singapore on 6 September 1944.
We were an odd lot, eight boats in all. There was an old American ship, the `President Harrison', now renamed the `Kachido Maru' which was loaded with hundreds of British POWs, there were two heavily laden oil tankers, the Rakoyu Maru, two cruisers, a corvette, and another small naval vessel.
We were later to find out that one tanker was carrying heavy bunker oil and the other, high octane aviation fuel. It was to be a mixed blessing for us.
The troops were crowded into the hot steamy holds as tight as they could fit. As one of the cooks, I enjoyed pride of place in the ship's galley on the upper deck. Being a cook sometimes had its drawbacks. The boys were quick to discover that bags of sugar were stored in a locker beside the galley. They would sneak out in the black of night and scrounge a measure or two of the cherished stuff. In the end there was such a run on the sugar, it just had to be noticed by the Japs.
The Japs' means of control was simple. One of the naval officers, hauled me on deck and started to rant and rave and wave his sword about. He would behead me he said, if the thefts of sugar didn't stop. I knew he meant it. Fortunately for me, so did the boys.
Approaching the Philippines, we were joined by three other cargo vessels and continued on our way to Japan. As we zig-zagged our way through the South China Sea, at about two o'clock in the afternoon, the small escort ship behind us speeded up and took off out to sea, then to my astonishment it suddenly blew up in a cloud of fire, smoke and water and disappeared.
I felt a sudden rush of blood, could this be the end of my days as a POW. I had a strong gut feeling that our convoy was about to be attacked by subs.
(What we didn't know at the time, was that a pack of five American submarines, The Queenfish, The Pampinito, The Sealion, The Growler and The Barb was patrolling the China Seas, attacking the Jap convoys as they passed.)
On hearing the explosion, pandemonium broke loose on the Rakoyu Maru, the guards hounded everyone into the holds and battened them down. They left me in the galley and I was able to watch the whole of the proceedings as they unfolded.
All was quiet until about five o'clock the following morning, when one of the cargo ships about one hundred yards behind us, blew up straight out of the water and disintegrated, scattering debris all around us as it went down. Within minutes torpedoes struck both the oil tankers which lit up the sky in a blaze of fire.
I waited with bated breath, the subs were obviously going for the whole convoy. Would our turn be next? Then it happened! First an ear-splitting explosion, then a huge wall of water knocked me to the deck; a torpedo hit us fair amidships, exploding in a ball of flame.
A second torpedo went straight through our bow without exploding but leaving a great gaping hole. Water started to rush in and the Rakoyu Maru stopped dead in her tracks, listing badly. As our luck would have it, all our boys were in the fore and aft holds and had all survived the attack. They hauled the hatch covers off and scrambled out onto the deck.
In the turmoil that followed, we joined the ship's crew, the navy seamen and our Jap guards, all running around together on the decks looking for a way to survive. One of our group, Vic Duncan, a chief petty officer from the HMAS Perth, was quick to sum up the situation. He was experienced in going down with sinking ships, this was his third time since the war started. Keeping his cool he called out to the boys, "Don't panic. First fill your water bottles," and went around helping them prepare to get off the sinking ship.
The Rakoyu Maru was going down fast. In the melee that followed, we were at war again. We set free an English group captain who was being taken to Japan for interrogation and during the voyage, had been kept cooped up on deck in a tiny bamboo cage.
Any Jap caught off guard was quickly despatched overboard. The Jap Naval Officer was knocked unconscious with a heavy chunk of wood and dropped over the side. The Captain's cabin boy was treated more humanely, he was just tossed over. Other Japs caught unawares at the ship's rails, were all given a helpful shove.
Brigadier Varley, the British group captain and other of our officers, managed to free one of the lifeboats that had been caught on its davits. They lowered it onto the water and quickly made good their escape. We heard later that their lifeboat had been intercepted by a Jap destroyer and all on board had been machine gunned and killed.
Vic Duncan and some of our boys were able to get another of the lifeboats free on the water, and get safely away from the sinking ship. They were luckier than the officers, and were picked up by a passing Jap ship, to continue their lives as POWs.
Time was fast running out for me. I was bewildered and confused, not knowing what to do nor where to go. I decided to jump overboard, but in my flustered state, I misjudged it badly and landed in the water right near the hole in the bow made by the torpedo. Water was pouring into the ship through the hole, and I was being quickly drawn in. I swam with all my strength to get out of the surging current, and with luck was able to avoid being sucked in.
I was soon covered with oil from the two tankers that had been sunk. My eyes were stinging painfully, I could hardly see and my skin was burning. I grabbed at a raft floating beside me and clutched on to it. The raft was about the size of a kitchen table. There were already about seven other men clinging to it for their dear lives. We couldn't recognise each other as we were all covered with oil.
The aviation fuel was burning our skin badly, but we soon found out that by dousing ourselves in the slick of the thicker bunker oil, we could relieve the pain quite a bit. As it happened, the covering of heavy bunker sludge helped to protect us from the hot sun, and to prevent us from drying out as we floated around for the next few days.
In the turmoil, Japs and POWs floundered together in the oily water, all struggling to get hold of anything that floated. One of the Jap destroyers that had so far escaped being torpedoed, headed toward us. As it drew near it slowed down and the seamen on board threw ropes over the sides. It then moved slowly through the survivors, trailing the ropes in the water. Whenever a Jap caught hold of one, he was hauled aboard, but whenever one of us grabbed one of the ropes, the crew just slackened it off and kept easing out the rope until we let go. When the destroyer had rescued all the Japs, it drifted into the mass of struggling POWs and stopped. The Japs on board just stared down at us sniggering, and jabbering away, doing nothing to help us.
Our raft had drifted about two hundred yards away from the destroyer, when I heard a strange ticking noise come and go. All of a sudden there was a clap of thunder, and a torpedo hit the destroyer which exploded in flame and went straight down with all on board.
The concussion of the explosion hit me with a thump and I felt a stabbing pain, but I clung desperately on to the raft. Some of the others were more seriously ruptured, but they still managed to cling to the raft.
When the action had subdued, we were alone, not a ship in sight. All one could see for miles around us was a shiny inky black sea with oily blobs of men hanging on to odd shaped scraps of wreckage. When we took stock of our situation, there was nothing we could do but to try to stay alive and afloat, and hope for the best.
Captain Arthur Sumner, the senior officer in charge of the troops on board the Rakoyu Maru, was holding on to the raft beside me. He had been on deck at the time of the explosion and was seriously injured. The flesh of his cheek was hanging down and he looked frightful. He was in a bad way and in great pain.
He managed to hold out until the second day when he told me, "Bill, I won't be here in the morning," and he slipped quietly away in the darkness of night.
For a few days we just drifted along without food or water, just hoping. Then as we hung in the water from our small raft, to my horror, I saw the fins of a school of sharks racing toward us. This had to be the end. As the sharks approached nearer to the heavy oil slick we were floating in, they suddenly started to thrash wildly about in the water. To our great relief, they took off in the same direction as they had come. The oil slick had probably saved us.
We knew our lives now depended entirely on luck. We were quite helpless and could only try to stay alive and wait and hope for luck to come our way as we drifted around aimlessly in the ocean currents. Somehow I felt something would happen and the longer I could hang on, the better would be my chances.
We drifted toward a large hatch cover, there was no one on it so we all clambered on board. It had two door openings, but there was still enough room for us to stretch out. With all of us on top, it was only inches above the water, but what a relief to be out of the water!
We drifted around for another two days. Our thirst became unbearable. The urge to drink the seawater was almost uncontrollable. We all knew the danger and kept each other from even wetting our lips with it. Ron Miscamble was craving for a drink. "Just a bit, Bill, just to wet the inside of my mouth." As he bent over the side and cupped his hand into the sea, I gave him a solid cuff across his face, quickly bringing him to his senses. He fell back onto the raft, looking rather sheepish, but he didn't try to drink the seawater again after that.
On the fourth day, one of the men on the raft went quite delirious. His mind was a riot of imagination and there seemed nothing we could do to quieten him down. He untied himself from the raft and saying, "I'm going to the kitchen to get a glass of water," flopped overboard and disappeared into the depths of the ocean.
Reg Harris had become very weak, and was in danger of toppling off the raft. As I was trying to tie him down I heard a strange throbbing sound, it seemed to come from under us. I stared out to the sea around us, but my eyes were so dry and sore from the oil I could see nothing. The throbbing sound got louder and louder, then all of a sudden I could just make out the periscope of a submarine moving very slowly toward us. Within seconds there was a flurry of water and the conning tower rose up about six feet from us.
One of the men came out onto the deck. Pointing a machine gun straight at us, he called out, "Say, guys, who are you?"
"Don't shoot, Yank."
"You speak English?"
"Yeah, we're Australians."
"Wait there till I see the chief."
We didn't really have any intentions of leaving.
Then in an excited rush, other men climbed down onto the deck, threw us ropes, and began to haul us aboard.
I tried to act bravely, but I was too stuffed up with emotion and my legs weren't with me. When my emotions began to sort themselves out, an immense feeling of relief came over me and I would have wept, had my eyes let me.
Our clothes were cut from us and as much of the sludge as possible was cleaned off our bodies. Naked, we climbed down into the sub.
Six of the men on our raft survived to be rescued. Our delirious friend who jumped off the raft to go to the kitchen for a glass of water, did so just fifteen minutes before the sub sighted us.
The submarine that picked us up was the USS Pampinito, which was the sub that earlier had sunk the Kachido Maru. We never saw or heard anything about the British POWs who were on it when it went down. The sub that had sunk our ship, was the USS Sea Lion. They were all part of the pack of five American subs patrolling this stretch of ocean.
We told the Pampinito's Commander that it was likely there were other Australians floating around. For the rest of this day and all the next, the Pampinito moved slowly around searching the oily waters for survivors. The sub finished picking up 76 Australian POWs out of the water.
The men were still clinging to the bits of half submerged wood they had managed to grab hold of when the Rakoyu Maru went down. They were covered with oil and had been floating around in the South China Sea for over four days without food or water.
Two days later, the Pampinito picked up four more of our men. They had been clinging to one of the ship's large refrigerators, and had drifted into a heavy tropical thunderstorm. The boys were able to tear off a piece of canvas and by holding a corner each, catch enough rain in it to keep them going until they were rescued.
The crew looked after us on a one-to-one basis. I was taken to the torpedo room, where my carer, First Mate Tony Haupman, fitted me out with a clean set of his own clothing.
We were hellish thirsty, but the pharmacist mate wouldn't let us drink. First we were allowed to wet our lips with cotton wool, then for the next four hours he allowed us an egg cup of water each hour. Finally a cup of heavenly water; it like was mother's milk! Then, another unforgettable experience, the cook made us a brew of broth. Never had I tasted anything so beautiful in my whole life.
The crew gave us their own bunks and went to great trouble to make us comfortable. We soon responded to their good care and our spirits began to rise. Not only had we been plucked out of the sea, we were no longer POWs, but almost more unbelievable, we had survived and were now safely on our way home.
It wasn't long after I had changed into my nice clean white outfit, and the Pampinito had gone off in search of other survivors, that my good mate Reg Stewart, came down the hatch covered in oil, I had no way of recognising him, but on seeing me, he raced over and hugged me with his oily arms.
"You bloody beauty, Bill," he said, so thrilled at being alive and seeing one of his mates.
Things were looking amazingly good, only to think that a few hours earlier it had looked as though our time was fast running out.
After the war Tony Haupman came out to Australia and was able to stay with Cath and me on our farm at Nareen, giving us a chance to show our appreciation for the great care he had taken of me. We did ourselves very well and he went home to America a convert to Aussie beer. He was fascinated by our emus and kangaroos, and my assurance that the breweries had the sole rights to all their hops.
The Pampinito then headed for Siapan, the island the Americans had set up as their strike base. It was from here that their bombers took off to drop the bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki.
We were taken to the Pampinito's mother ship and after a lot of hand shaking and backslapping and demonstrations of our lifelong gratitude, we were put in army ducks and taken ashore.
We were questioned at great length by American intelligence. They were particularly interested in the airport at Nong Peng in Cambodia, when we told them that Japanese planes were busily buzzing up and down from it like bees around a honey pot.
Later we were told that the planes from the two aircraft carriers anchored at Siapan, had given the airport "One hell of a hammering."
For the next five days we took life quietly, enjoying our introduction to American rations and the luxuries of life that had escaped us over the last couple of years, a cup of hot coffee, a bar of chocolate, and a packet of Camel cigarettes. When word came through that we were going to be taken home, we sent up a rousing cheer. The feeling of heading for home was terrific. We began to feel our freedom was real and for keeps.
From Siapan, we went to Guada Canal on an American Victory Ship which then transferred us to a minesweeper which amid mounting excitement took us on to Brisbane.
We disembarked, maybe looking a little lean and hungry, but feeling a million dollars in our smart naval outfits and our feet on our very own earth.
For their own security reasons, the ship's officers had told us not to disclose our identity until they had handed us over to the Australian authorities. However, a small crowd had gathered to welcome the arrival of the American ship and as we walked onto the wharf, we heard a very attractive young blond Aussie lass arguing with her American escort, who was trying to convince her that we were Americans.
"But they just don't look like Americans," said the lass.
"They have to be Americans," said her escort, checking our uniforms.
One of our boys put them straight.
"No flamin' fear mate, I'm an Australian and I'm bloody proud of it."
The Rakoyu Maru was sank on 12 September 1942.
We arrived back home in Australia on 3 December 1942.
We had just one more duty to perform before the war was over for us. Army intelligence was keen to know all about what had happened to us, particularly about our treatment as POWs. So it was off to a catholic convent in Brisbane, where we were to cool our heels for a month while we were being interrogated.
Sir William Webb of the Australian War Crimes Commission was extremely interested in our experiences and questioned us intensively. He wanted to know all about the execution of the eight anti-tankers at Tanbusai and, thanks to Captain More, I had no trouble in recalling the name of the Jap officer involved.
Then we really were on our way back home. In Melbourne we were given an address of welcome by the Governor of Victoria, Sir Edmund Herring.
At long last I was back on my farm at Nareen to try to put aside the past, and enjoy the freedom of our land.
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