..." the food was never enough - the meager rice ration was supplemented at morning and night by about ½ pint of watery vegetable soup. . . we only had two thin blankets and had to sleep on wooden boards with only about 1 ½ feet of space per man... at every conceivable opportunity the guards would find an excuse to hit us.
. . .we were screamed at, shouted at, slapped, kicked and bashed. . . for the slightest infringement (of the rules) anyone could be sentenced to the "Ice Box!! (a wooden cubicle five feet high and only two feet six inches square) - you had nothing, not even a blanket and it was impossible to lie down.
. . .when the call came for 'volunteers' to work in the mine, I signed up - anything would be better than life in that camp.
. . ."we were issued black cardboard helmets, canvas shoes, a threadbare short-sleeve green shirt and shorts - these were to be our "mining clothes". .. we marched up about 250 steps to the brow of the hill (above the camp) and in the distance below us, we could see the mine head - we had to clamber all the way down on a very rough path with stone steps. . . we were marched to the mine entrance and forced to stop at a small Japanese shrine to pray for our safety in the mine. . . then into the mine. . . for forty-five minutes we trudged on and then turning off to the left, climbed down very rough steps under a low ceiling for several levels. . . warm air hit us . . . water dripped down, quite warm. . . down we went, getting hotter and hotter. . . .there were cries of pain all around as we caught our backs or arms on the jagged walls and low ceiling. . . .I thought we were descending into hell.
"after descending nearly 800 steps, we were given our tools - a chunkel and a two-handled bamboo basket . . .our task was to scrape the ore into the basket, and then carry it to the trolley (ore cart) which we called "bogies" . . .at lunch time we would return to the rest area to eat our 'bento' - only to find it alive with cockroaches
. . .we brushed them off and ate the tasteless cold rice and bits of green - it seemed like a banquet to us ravenous prisoners. . . at the end of the day we had to climb those terrible stairs to get out of the mine, and then still face that long climb back up over the mountain to the camp. .. no-one spoke during those climbs - you needed all your breath!
- excerpts taken from the book "BANZAI YOU BASTARDS!" by Sgt. Jack Edwards, former Kinkaseki POW #159