Bad memories softened by passing of time

THE Second World War ended in August 1945 with the unconditional surrender of Japan. That was 45 years ago. Some of us who lived through that period are still around.

When the Japanese army invaded Malaya, I was only 11 years old. My parents and the rest of the family were living in the upstairs part of the post office building in Kampar, Perak. This building is still a post office now.

The police station was just a stone’s throw away. (It’s in another location now.)

The Japanese soldiers and their cohorts would bring back “prisoners” from their raids to be tortured in the police station. This took place mostly at night and the victims’ cries for mercy made my blood run cold. The sound of the beatings are etched in my memory forever.

It is therefore incomprehensible for some people to regard them as “heroes”, as reported in “It was ‘error in translation’” (The Star, March 23). It’s possible that these people with misplaced notions were not even born at that time.

Please remove the monument honouring the Japanese soldiers as they were never heroes in our sight. This unfortunate act of treating them as heroes is an outrage and affront to all Malaysians who have loved ones brutally killed by the Japanese soldiers in those dark years.

As a tourist attraction, it would be a failure because no decent Malaysian would want to visit such a place.

I was learning in a Japanese school for two years. We were subjected to their propaganda by the officers who taught us. None would believe them but only a brave and foolhardy person would dare to question them.

Together with others, I worked in a Japanese factory specially meant for children. We churned old rags into coarse cloth for the Japanese war effort.

We were well treated and I must admit I enjoyed my time there. Some Japanese women treated us like their children. They must have had children of their own in Japan.

However, in spite of all these observations, we never treated them as heroes. They were our invaders who would be removed oneday.

Today, when I watch badminton matches, I sometimes cheer Japanese players on to victory. Time has dimmed the memory of yesteryears. Enmity has slowly dissipated into oblivion. Let us move on even though the memory of those days will linger on forever.

MONG YOON WENG Seremban