Sisters under the rising.., p.11
Sisters under the Rising Sun, page 11
Another volunteer is reading, ‘“One Hundred Ways to Cook Rice”. It says one hundred ways, but she’s only written three!’
The article sparks a conversation about food and the editors revive happy memories of mealtimes, of Christmas dinners and Sunday lunches. And, in a strange way, once they start talking about food, they can’t seem to stop, despite the ever-present gnawing hunger in their stomachs.
But it is Betty, the editor compiling Miss Know-All’s Diary, who receives the most submissions.
‘Well, the Japanese aren’t going to let us put this in the paper.’ Betty is reading an account of one survivor’s journey to the camp. ‘We’re going to have to get creative.’ She has a little twinkle in her eye. ‘We’re going to have to help the reader to read between the lines,’ she says. ‘I never thought I’d want to run a newspaper, but this is really fun.’
‘It’s weird to say it,’ chimes in Jean, ‘but over the last few weeks, things have really changed around here.’
‘I feel it too,’ agrees Betty. ‘I mean, our only problem is going to be finding paper.’
‘Oh, we’ve found loads of scraps in the rubbish thrown out at the back of the admin building,’ Jean tells her.
‘So we’ve got a paper and a theatre company and a choir now,’ Betty says. ‘I mean, can you believe we’ve had to move The Shed to our house because it’s not big enough for the audience?’
Jean points to the piano in the corner of their living area. ‘And there’s that too.’
The nurses are excited, busily preparing for their performances. What had started off as just one concert has increased to more, as both performers and audience find so much to enjoy in the musical shows. Nesta watches their growing enthusiasm for the concerts and a shadow crosses her face.
‘Girls, can you all give me a minute?’
All eyes turn to her.
‘What Margaret, Norah, Ena and others have given us is, without question, a great gift. We’ve been able to forget where we are and really enjoy ourselves, but I’m worried we’re getting carried away. We mustn’t ever forget we are here at the mercy of the Japanese, who have shown us, time and time again, they control every aspect of our lives. So far, they’ve let the concerts go on, but you have to remember that all this can change in an instant.’
‘What Nesta is saying, and I agree with her entirely, is be wary of our captors, let’s not give them any reason to shut us down,’ Jean adds.
‘I don’t want to be a party-pooper, I just want you to be safe.Now, go and enjoy yourselves,’ Nesta says with a big smile.
‘Have you seen how many are out there?’ Norah is breathless. ‘It’s our biggest crowd yet, so we are all going to have to sing really loud to be heard outside.’
‘Well, that’s what we’re good at,’ Ena tells her with a wink.
The Saturday night concert is a great success and their largest yet, featuring the choir, a glee club, dancers, comedy turns and recitals. The house is buzzing inside and out, and those unlucky enough not to have found space inside join in the singing from the street.
‘What an evening!’ Margaret announces when it’s over. ‘I haven’t laughed this much in such a long time, and I know you all feel the same way. I want to thank these wonderful performers who have entertained us tonight, and I want to thank you for coming and being part of this special evening. We will all remember it for as long as we live. I think it is fitting we end the evening singing “God Save the King”, “Land of Hope and Glory” and the national anthem of Holland.’
The applause is long and heartfelt as each of the anthems is bellowed into the balmy night air.
When all the last notes have faded, a silence lingers in the crowd. And then the women stomp their feet, clap their hands, and turn to embrace the woman next to them. They will remember this night forever.
‘Be my life short or long,’ Nesta whispers to herself. ‘Just please don’t let it be short.’
CHAPTER 9
Camp II, Irenelaan, Palembang
April 1942–October 1943
‘Y
ou have made such a difference in the camp; you know that, don’t you?’ Nesta tells Norah.
‘I hope so,’ Norah agrees. ‘I’ve been eavesdropping on the camp as they practise “The Captives’ Hymn”; it’s wonderful.’
Norah has spent the past week hunting down scrap paper to produce copies of both the musical score and lyrics, which she has happily distributed to the women.
‘Norah, I spoke to the nurses a couple of days ago about the concerts.’
‘And?’
‘I just reminded them how quickly the Japanese can turn; and that we mustn’t take their approval for granted. I’m concerned someone will say – or sing – something that offends them.’
‘Mmm, I think you’re right. I must admit I’ve become complacent about seeing the soldiers in the audience, and yes, I’m a little surprised they’ve let us continue. I think I should speak to everyone too and remind them to be careful.’
Norah waves goodbye to Nesta; she will talk to the others, but right now, she has something else on her mind, something so momentous that she can no longer bear to hold it in.
‘What is it Norah, are you all right?’ Margaret is just leaving the house as Norah arrives.
‘Is Ena inside?’ she asks.
‘Yes. Do you need her?’
‘I need both of you.’
Margaret goes back inside the house and reappears a moment later with Ena by her side.
‘What’s going on?’ Ena asks, laying a concerned hand on her sister’s shoulder.
‘I’ve got an idea and I have to say it out loud. I want to know if you think it’s crazy,’ Norah says, the words tumbling out of her mouth.
‘You are never crazy, dear sister. Just say it,’ Ena urges.
‘There’s something missing from our concerts.’
‘What?’ ask Ena and Margaret together.
‘An orchestra; we don’t have an orchestra.’
There is moment of stunned silence from Ena and Margaret.
‘Are you suggesting we ask our captors to provide us with instruments?’ Margaret says eventually. ‘You should know that I don’t think they will.’ She laughs. The idea is preposterous.
‘It would be nice, but no, I can’t see them doing that either. So, I’ve come up with the next best thing.’
‘Well, tell us, then,’ says Ena. She’s wondering whether, after all, her sister is a little crazy.
‘I want to form an orchestra. An orchestra of voices. Voices I can turn into instruments.’
Margaret and Ena once again fall silent, exchanging glances of utter bewilderment.
‘Well, what do you think?’ Norah asks, a little impatiently.
‘My dear, I have never met a more brilliant, capable musician than you. How you took my words and created the most stirring music to give them wings was pure genius. I don’t know how you’ll do it, I confess, but if it’s something you want to try, you have my complete support,’ Margaret says.
‘She won’t just try, Margaret, she’ll do it. There is nothing my brilliant sister can’t do. If she says she’s going to create an orchestra of voices, then, by God, she will.’
‘You don’t think I’m being stupid?’ Norah asks anxiously.
‘Maybe a little crazy,’ grins Ena. ‘But I can’t wait to hear your orchestra – how amazing does that sound?’
At that moment, June comes running out of the house.
‘Aunty Ena, are you crying? Are you all right?’
Ena kneels to wrap the little girl in a hug.
‘A little tear of joy, June. The best kind.’
‘Nesta, what’s wrong? Has something happened?’ Margaret asks the nurse as they linger in the street, the latest performance due to start very soon.
The sun has set and the few camp street lights begin to glow. An air of excitement is building around the ‘concert hall’. The performers have gathered outside the house, chatting nervously about their impending acts. For several, it is the first time they’re singing, dancing or acting in front of an audience.
‘Haven’t you seen?’ Nesta says, her eyes wide. ‘We have visitors.’
‘Visitors? Good visitors or bad ones?’ Margaret asks.
‘Bad, I think.’
‘You’d better tell me what’s going on.’
‘A few minutes ago, six soldiers, including Miachi and Ah Fat, walked into the house and made the women in the front row leave their seats so they could sit down.’
The other women have gathered around, listening intently.
‘They want to be entertained too, I’m guessing,’ says Margaret, eventually. ‘And if that’s what they want, then let’s do it.’ But she doesn’t sound confident.
The room is silent when the performers enter. The presence of the Japanese has hit the audience hard. They have no idea whether the night will end in celebration or a beating.
Margaret steps onto the makeshift stage and bows to the gathered soldiers in the front row.
‘We have some guests tonight; welcome,’ she says. ‘Let’s begin the evening with the first song on your programme.’
The performers start to sing ‘The Captives’ Hymn’, and, hesitantly at first, the audience joins in. As the last words are sung, everyone applauds and the Japanese officers politely join in.
And so the evening continues. Those listening forget their captors just a few seats away, and laugh, sing, clap the beautiful dancing and poetry. Every act is applauded by the officers; they even laugh when the women laugh. It is clear they are enjoying themselves.
When it’s over and the applause has died down, Margaret steps forwards once more.
‘Thank you, everyone, and a special thank you to our guests,’ Margaret says, with a low bow. ‘And now we will end as we usually do with our national anthems.’
‘God Save the King’ receives a gusty rendition and then the Dutch national anthem, ‘Wilhelmus’, follows with the same boisterous energy. The level of passion rises as everyone sings ‘Land of Hope and Glory’. When the singing has finally ended, the Japanese officers stand and applaud enthusiastically.
‘Again, again,’ Miachi says.
‘I’m sorry?’ Margaret says, approaching the captain.
‘Sing. Please sing again,’ he asks.
‘Which song?’
Miachi mumbles a few words to Ah Fat.
‘The captain likes last the song. So beautiful. Please sing it again.’
The room falls silent; all eyes are on Margaret.
‘Ladies, Captain Miachi has asked we sing our last song once again. He says it is beautiful. Are we ready?’
The Japanese officers stay standing as the women proudly sing what they are now calling ‘the camp anthem’, and they once again join voices in ‘Land of Hope and Glory’. The officers are applauding even before they finish.
Miachi approaches Margaret. ‘Thank you,’ Ah Fat translates. ‘Most entertaining, we will be back next Saturday night.’
The women move aside for the departing soldiers, bowing as they move through the crowd. The officers, to their astonishment, are smiling.
‘Well, that was unexpected,’ Norah announces.
Margaret and Norah have remained behind in Nesta’s house after everyone else has left.
‘Unexpected, certainly, but good too. It means we can carry on; they clearly enjoyed it. I didn’t know what to do with my face when Miachi asked for an encore,’ Margaret says.
‘I could have a problem,’ Betty admits, looking sheepish.
‘A problem?’ Nesta asks.
‘Well, it’s like this, I’ve been working with some of the girls.’ She looks around the room at the others involved, all of whom are trying to suppress their laughter. ‘I – I mean we – have written and rehearsed a new version of a well-known song. They may not like some of the lyrics.’
‘I think they will definitely not like some of the lyrics,’ one of the nurses adds. ‘I’m sure that Ah Fat will translate everything we say.’
‘Do I want to know what they are?’ Nesta asks.
‘No, no. I think under the circumstances we might have to make some alterations,’ Betty says.
‘Well, I know the song you have submitted for the programme, I will trust you not to do or say anything to upset the officers,’ Margaret says.
‘Can we see the lyrics in advance?’ asks Norah. ‘Maybe everyone who’s performing at the next concert needs to run their acts past us.’
‘Sadly, I agree with you. It goes against the grain, censorship, but we can’t take any chances,’ Margaret adds.
When the nurses are alone again, Nesta notices their four ‘hostess’ colleagues sitting apart from everyone else. It has been two weeks since they began their nightly visits to the officers’ club.
‘Oh no!’ Nesta turns to Jean. ‘How must they be feeling with their violators in their house? I need to do something. I have to talk to them.’
‘Let’s do it in the garden,’ says Jean. ‘I’ll take them outside.’
The six women move to the rear of the garden. Nesta begins by apologising for not immediately realising how painful it must have been to find the Japanese soldiers at the concert.
‘How were you to know they’d turn up?’ one asks.
‘We weren’t, but it’s a big problem and we have to fix it.’
‘You could stay in our house next week, skip the whole thing,’ Jean suggests.
‘No way,’ says another. ‘Haven’t they taken enough from us? It’s our concert too. But I don’t want to perform for them.’
That night, sleep doesn’t come easily for Nesta. She continues to berate herself for the pain she has caused the four nurses who have made a sacrifice no woman should ever make. The self-doubt she has kept at bay over her ability to be a good leader to her colleagues, who have become her friends, and now her family, taunts her. Nothing in her training has prepared her for this role.
CHAPTER 10
Camp II, Irenelaan, Palembang
April 1942–October 1943
‘H
ow are the rehearsals for Saturday coming along?’ Nesta asks Norah. They are walking through the camp, watching the children play.
‘I’ve censored Betty’s lyrics,’ says Norah. ‘But I think we’ll be fine. Ena’s been going over the other acts and, let’s say, a few changes have been made.’
‘Are you singing this Saturday, June?’ Nesta asks.
‘No, not this week. Oh, look, there’s Bonnie!’
‘Who’s Bonnie?’
‘She’s a stray dog June and some other children have befriended,’ Ena explains.
‘Bonnie! Bonnie, here, girl,’ June calls.
Dogs have found their way into the camp, and just like the women and children, they too are starving. Children befriend them by sharing their meagre rations. Mothers go without to give their children their share. Seeing the smiles on their sons’ and daughters’ faces outweighs the concern for any diseases the animals may bring. Young girls are seen singing to the dogs; boys do what boys do when they have a pet dog, throwing twigs and sticks for them to fetch. For the most part, the Japanese soldiers ignore them, and the children quickly learn which soldiers to avoid, coaxing the dogs away from the threat of a bayonet.
June and two of her friends have a special stray they look out for, sneak food to and cuddle.
Today, out walking with Norah and Ena, she has been on the alert for her friend, Bonnie.
The dog reacts to her name and turns towards them but is then startled by the sight of a soldier bounding towards her, rifle drawn, screaming. Behind the dog is another soldier, frozen in place.
‘Nooooo!’ yells Ena, throwing herself onto June, and they hit the ground as a shot rings out.
Nesta and Norah turn to see the dog bolt away but the soldier behind falls down, grasping at his chest. June screams while Ena holds her close. Nesta runs to the fallen guard.
‘Take her back to the house,’ Norah tells Ena, and to June she says, ‘Bonnie’s fine. She ran away.’
Ena pulls June to her feet and, wrapping her arms around her, she hurries away.
Norah looks at the solider who fired the shot; now it’s he who stands frozen. Norah runs over to Nesta and the injured man, while other soldiers stream onto the street, some heading for the wounded soldier, others towards the man who is still trying to comprehend what he has done.
‘How is he?’ Norah asks, kneeling beside Nesta.
‘He’s dead.’
Soldiers grab Nesta and pull her away. But Norah takes her arm, and the two women quickly leave, warning those who have come out of their houses at the sound of a gun firing to go back inside. This is a reminder, thinks Norah, more alert than ever to the danger they’re in. A reminder and a lesson: any one of their lives could be snuffed out by a poorly aimed bullet, with few, if any, repercussions.
Nesta is pleased the concert the following Saturday is a success. She despised Miachi and his soldiers in the front row, loudly applauding every performance, and felt her heart contract.
Her four volunteer nurses stood apart from the crowd, in the doorway to the kitchen, where they could enjoy the evening without being spied by their rapists. It was with a grateful tear she watched them sing an encore of ‘Land of Hope and Glory’ at the tops of their lungs.
CHAPTER 11
Camp II, Irenelaan, Palembang
April 1942–October 1943
‘I
wish they would hurry up; the suspense is killing me,’ Betty whispers to the other nurses.
‘Shush, Betty, I don’t want you getting into trouble for talking,’ Nesta tells her.
‘Everyone else is talking,’ Vivian counters.
‘Talk quietly, then. I’m just on edge. I have no idea what’s coming.’
‘Those aren’t soldiers outside the admin block, are they?’ Jean asks.
