SS RAKUYO MARU

                    In March 1944, seven thousand British and Australian POW's assembled on a bare dirt parade ground at Tamarkan, Thailand. Starvation had reduced the Diggers to mere skeletons with sunken eyes, bodies covered in festering open sores; many were wracked by malaria, dysentery and beriberi. The Japanese commander stood on a box to address the prisoners. ‘All fit men go Nippon’, he told them.

                     Nine hundred ‘fit’ men were chosen, including Corporal Bill Webb. They were organised into six groups -- called kumis -- each comprising 150 men. The prisoners were taken by rail to Bangkok and Phnom Penh, then by boat down the Mekong River to Saigon in French Indo China. Here the prisoners were held in a disused French Foreign Legion camp. Compared to the railway, this was heaven. Food rations were improved and daily work parties gave the Diggers an opportunity to scrounge additional supplies. Some of the men put on 20 or more pounds (9 kg) in weight. During these scavenging forays they were able to obtain something more important than food -- news of the war.

                     They learned of the victories in the Pacific, the bombing of the Japanese mainland and the ruthless American submarine blockade. It was facetiously claimed by the French citizens in Saigon that there were so many submarines that you could walk from Singapore to Tokyo on the periscopes and not get your feet wet.

                     All good things must end and soon the Diggers were on the move again, this time to Singapore. Here they joined a British contingent and met up with the ships that would transport them all to Japan. Their stay in Singapore lasted four months, during which time the conditions for the POWs sank to a new low.4 The rations were barely enough to sustain the men, their weight dropped and again they succumbed to sickness and disease. On 4 September 1944, the POW's were roused from their sleep by guards screaming, ‘All men go Nippon! All men go Nippon!’

                   When the POW's reached the docks they were confronted by two modern freighters. The Rakuyo Maru was to carry the Australians and the large American-built Kachidoki Maru was allocated to transport the British prisoners. The ships also carried a cargo of blocks of raw rubber. The senior POW officers protested. The ships carried no Red Cross markings to distinguish them as carrying POWs and to sail under these conditions would be suicide.

Approx 700 Australian and 600 British servicemen were placed on board the Rakuyo Maru and another 900 British servicemen were loaded onto the Kachidoki Maru.

The Rakuyo Maru. (Photograph: United States Navy)

The Kachidoki Maru. (Photograph: United States Navy)

                           As the POWs climbed the gangway, Bill gazed at the distant shimmering hills. His determination to beat the odds, to survive no matter what, suddenly seemed to take on momentous proportions. He had come this far but now it seemed the odds were stacked well and truly against him. Japan was so far from Australia and his time in captivity had dramatically weakened his body and his resolve. Could he survive this, he wondered?

                           The Korean guards prodded the prisoners with pointed sticks, pushing them towards the Number 3 hold. They were forced down the stairs into the dark cavernous space. The air in their new ‘prison’ was stifling and very hot. The men tried to return to the deck. ‘No-one can survive down there. We’ll suffocate’, they clamored.

                           The guards moved in and began beating the beleaguered prisoners. ‘Speedo! speedo!’ they screeched as they shoved the POW's down the opening.

                           The ships sailed north where they were joined by other vessels from Manila. As the ships proceeded towards Japan they entered an area known to the American submariners as ‘Convoy College’. Positioned between the Japanese ships and their destination were two American wolf packs -- ‘Ben’s Busters’, comprising USS Growler, Pampanito and Sealion II and ‘Ed’s Eradicators’, USS Barb and Queenfish. 

                          At 5.22 am on 12 September, the Rakuyo Maru was being watched through the periscope of the USS Sealion II. As the image of the ship’s bow met the cross hairs of the periscope, the submarine’s captain calmly fired three torpedoes. Each of the deadly missile’s warheads carried 668 pounds (300 kg) of high explosive. The Rakuyo Maru was doomed.

                          The first torpedo slammed into the steel plates amidships, the second 200 feet (60 metres) aft of the Number 2 hold. The explosions were little more than dull thuds -- the force of the blast apparently absorbed by the closely packed rubber. Seawater now gushed into the hold causing some of the POWs to panic and rush the ladders.

                          Several of the non-commissioned officers (NCOs) took control of the situation by putting themselves between the panic-stricken mob and the ladder. When they realised that the ship was being held afloat by the rubber and was not in danger of sinking immediately, a more orderly system of evacuation was established. On deck, the Japanese raced to the lifeboats but refused access to the POWs, beating them away with sticks.

                          The prisoners were left to fend for themselves. Another series of explosions lit up the night sky as torpedoes slammed into the accompanying tanker Nankai Maru. Meanwhile ten lifeboats had been swung away, all full of Japanese. As other Japanese ran around the ship in panic, a number of the POWs took the opportunity to settle a few old scores and soon the decks were littered with bloodied Japanese corpses.

                          Bill Webb assessed the situation and weighed up his options. He could chance staying on the ship until the last minute, but who was to say it would not be the target of another torpedo. In the water he had a chance of securing a position on a raft, where he could await being picked up by the Japanese whom he was sure would return for the survivors. Preferring the latter, Bill jumped from the ship.                       

                          The current swept him quickly away from the Rakuyo Maru, in the opposite direction to the rafts. Treading water, Webb found it difficult to stay afloat. ‘You bloody idiot’, he chided himself. ‘You should have stayed with the ship.’ In the distance Webb could see a man lying across a bundle of bamboo poles. Mustering his last skerrick of strength, Bill swam towards the man but he was in dire trouble. He was exhausted and every stroke he took tired him even more. His arms were barely clearing the surface and with every breath he swallowed more and more saltwater. Suddenly a pair of hands hauled him onto the bamboo. ‘What are you doing out here, Bill?’ asked a familiar voice. It was John Langley, another veteran of the railway labour camps.

                      The two agreed that it might be safer to return to the ship. With their upper torsos on the bamboo and their legs in the water, they kicked their way towards the Rakuyo Maru. Six hours later the exhausted pair grabbed the rope ladder dangling from the side of the ship.(4)

                   Collapsing on the deck, Webb and Langley found several others had returned as well and actively were engaged in building a raft out of hatch covers. After scrounging some water, Webb and Langley offered to help. The ship was creaking and groaning as the seawater filled every crevice of the lower decks. Webb scurried through the upper deck cabins looking for anything useful.

                   He found a canteen of water and a large tin of flaked fish. On his way back to the others he stopped to rummage through the equipment of a couple of dead Japanese soldiers. He found a bottle of brandy, another bottle of water and a tin of biscuits. He passed the booty to his mates on the raft, took one last look around the deck then scurried down the ladder.

                   The raft had traveled barely 100 metres when the sinking Rakuyo Maru plunged 2000 metres to the bottom of the South China Sea. The time was 5.30 pm -- it had been a long, long day. Suddenly all eyes were directed to the horizon where two Japanese frigates and a Japanese merchant ship could be seen steaming toward the human flotsam.

                    The merchant ship slowed and then stopped, while the frigates patrolled in circles around both the ship and the dirty, oil-soaked survivors -- both prisoners and Japanese. The Allied survivors attempted to climb the rope ladders but they were beaten away by the Japanese crewmen. Slowly the propellers of the merchant ship began to turn and the ship pulled away from the horrified Diggers. ‘Killers! Why don’t you pick us up?’ they shouted. The men watched in utter despair as the ships disappeared over the horizon.

                   It was getting dark as the POWs sought refuge in the vacated lifeboats. Webb and his cobbers were foundering on the home-made raft but they could see the lifeboats in the distance. ‘Come on lads, let’s try a loud bush coo-ee!’ The call echoed across the waters, but no response was heard. They tried again and ever so faintly they heard it.

                 ‘Coo-eeee! Coo-eeeee!’ The men in the lifeboats had heard their cry for help and were on their way. A group of three lifeboats arrived and Webb and his mates were dragged aboard. The boats were under command of electrical artificer Vic Duncan, who had survived the sinking of HMAS Perth in 1942. In another of the boats was the Australian commander, Brigadier Varley.(4)

                The Diggers now pondered their fate. Duncan was fairly sure that they were some 500 kilometres from the China coast (they were actually only 350). He was confident that, by using dead reckoning, if they rowed continuously, they would reach the coast within eight to ten days. The men took a vote. Some opted to stay and take a chance on the Japanese sending a ship back for them; others, including Varley and Webb, chose to go with Duncan. John Langley, Bill’s ‘railway’ mate, decided to remain and take his chances.

                 By 14 September 1944, the 136 POWs crowded into the four boats of Duncan’s group had made sound progress. It was their third day of freedom and they believed that the coast was just over the horizon. The six boats of Varley’s group had broken away the day before and were about ten kilometres away but still keeping pace. Suddenly Webb called to Duncan, ‘Smoke on the horizon’.

                 Three Japanese corvettes made their way toward Varley’s group. As the men watched, prolonged bursts of continuous machine-gun fire could be heard. Webb could do little else but assume that the Japanese were machine-gunning the survivors in Varley’s six lifeboats.

                 As the corvettes steamed toward Duncan’s group, the soldiers had little doubt they were about to suffer the same fate as their mates. They calmly said their good-byes and awaited the inevitable. One of the corvettes peeled off and, with guns fully manned, slowed as it came alongside the lifeboats. Vic Duncan told the men, ‘If you believe in God, say your prayers now’.

                ‘Are you American?’ came the question from the direction of the ship.

                 ‘No,’ replied the POWs.

                 ‘Are you British?’

                 ‘No, we’re Australian,’ shouted the prisoners.

                 Then, to the utter amazement of Webb and the others, a rope ladder tumbled down the side of the ship. As the last of the POWs climbed aboard, the ship slowly picked up speed. They were taken to the small harbour of Sangai, on the island of Hainan where they were transferred to a Japanese whaling ship bound for Japan.

                The US submarines retraced their course after the sinking of the two prison ships and rescued 92 Australian and 60 British prisoners. They brought back the first information of the Japanese atrocities on the Burma-Thailand Railway. One of the prisoners who was rescued was John Langley, the man who had pulled Bill Webb onto the bamboo raft.(5)

AWM 305634. China Sea. Oil-soaked British and Australian prisoners of war who survived the sinking of the Japanese transport Rakuyo Maru by the submarine USS Sealion, being picked up three days later by that submarine.

Pampanito crew prepare to take aboard survivors. (Photograph: United States Navy, Paul Pappas)

Footnotes
1 National Archives of Australia: WW2 Service Records, QX12962 Private William Purnell Webb
2 Wigmore L, Official History of Australia in the Second World War Vol IV: The Japanese Thrust, Australian War Memorial, Canberra, 1957
3 Blair J & C, Return from the River Kwai, Macdonald and Jane’s, London, 1979
4 Wheeler, K, War Under the Pacific, World War II Series, Time Life Books, USA, 1980
5 Public Records Office, London, interviews with POWs recovered by U.S. submarines

 [HISTORY OF THE ANZACs]

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