I can still see the
nicotinestained fingers of my father. He was a smoker
when he joined the Australian Army in 1941. When he returned
to Australia after being a Japanese POW, he was still a
heavy smoker. It was the only cure for his nerves. In the
end, smoking did what the Japanese couldnt do; it
killed him.
This is part of his
story. He was a journalist before the war. After his
discharge, he returned to journalism and stories of that
terrible time in Changi Prison and on the Burma Railway
appeared as a series in his local newspaper, the Maryborough
Chronicle.
I have reproduced
those articles here, as he wrote them, for others to
read.
I welcome your
comments.