Escape from Sandakan - Part 3

ESCAPE FROM SANDAKAN — 111.
(First hand account written by (Florence) May Young and reprinted from the “North Borneo News” 25/12/52, 1/1/53 and 8/1/53.)

To Java and safety.

We soon dropped down at Bandjamasin and then we were off to Soerabaya. It was terrible thought as we saw the south east of Borneo receding in the distance and wondered what was to happen to the folk left behind and when and how we should see it all again. We ran into a thunderstorm and after bumping about a bit, we saw with relief, the coast of Java below us. When we landed, officials anxiously asked if we had a place to go as some evacuees were walking the town — there was not a room or bed to be had. We realised then that we had no alternative but to take advantage of Commander van Vort Housman’s kind suggestion that we should contact his wife if we were in any difficulty and we decided to go straight to her address. Before leaving the airport we enquired if our bookings to Australia, which we had taken the precaution of making by cable before we left Tarakan, had been made. We were told we had been booked for March 24th, the first available seats on receipt of our cable! (Java was actually occupied by the Japs before that date).

The Commander’s wife was astonished to see us, having left us a few days previously in Tarakan and although her beautiful home was small, she took us all in and made us feel at home at once. That evening she switched on the radio to hear that there was ‘no further contact with Tarakan’, which was the laconic official statement denoting the progress of the Japs. The poor little lady was deeply distressed as to the fate of her husband and we realised all too clearly our own wonderful escape only about 36 hours before the Jap attack.

The next day was a Sunday and we could do nothing about our passage to Australia. On the Monday we did the rounds of the shipping offices to be met with the news — that no one knew when a ship would be leaving and in any case there was a terrific waiting list. We came finally to Burns Philps office, where a kindly Australian assistant, Mr Taylor, listened sympathetically to our adventures to date and to our joy, thought he knew of an extra Qantas flight being chartered the following Friday. He said he would do his best to get us on it. He suggested we get vaccinated at once, got some money changed for us (no easy thing at that time) and said we would get very little notice if he could get us on the plane and warned us to be ready. We were deeply grateful to this official who gave us the only ray of hope we had received during our tour of the offices and we returned to the house hardly daring to believe that we might get away within the week. The Commander’s wife was frankly sceptical and said she had friends with influence who had already been waiting two months for a passage. Having down everything humanly that could be achieved, we settled down to waiting.

On the following Thursday we were having Tiffin when the telephone rang. To our great joy and thankfulness, our friend at the Burns Philps office told us there was a plane leaving at 6.30am the next morning. I remember we literally waltzed around the town at this good news and then rushed into the office to make the final arrangements and get our tickets etc. That night we sat as usual on the little porch, drinking coffee in the soft moonlight when there came the sound of a car and a man’s voice and our hostess rose to her feet and rushed into the semi darkness, to be caught in her husband’s embrace! He had got away after the occupation of Tarakan — in a motorboat with 16 of his men and the Port’s important papers. They had come through the minefield and oil burning on the surface of the sea, oil that had flowed off the land from the destroyed storage tanks. They had managed to get to Balik Papan after two days at sea and then were flown to Java. The news flew round the district and soon the house was full of their friends and neighbours, all eager to congratulate them on his escape and to have first hand information of the Japanese advance. All the men were in uniform, mostly naval and were mobilised ready for action.

The Commander had much to tell us. Our ship, the Baynain, had sailed the night before the Jap landing at Tarakan and it was presumed she had run right into their fleet. (It is now known that she was captured and the Captain and Engineer interned at Balik Papan with some of the crew. Some were badly wounded and sent to Sandakan not long afterwards.) The small ship on which I was booked at Balik Papan was sunk only 20 minutes after leaving port. He told us also that the first news he had of the landing was when he heard heavy explosions over the town. Telephoning military headquarters, he was told that the Japs had landed at a heavily wooded beach and advanced into the town, heavy fighting was going on while the storage tanks and wells were being blown up. As usual, the Japs had landed where least expected and had avoided the heavily mined harbour. He told us many other details of the happenings there and we were very sorry to hear that they had not been able to get the young nurses away as they had confidently asserted they would do before the arrival of the Japs.

Naturally there was a good deal of rejoicing that evening although events were so grim but one lived from hour to hour in those days and all we could think of that evening was that the Commander was safely home with his wife and that we were leaving early the next morning for Australia. After long talks into the night, we went to bed, the Commander telling us he would be up early to motor us down to the airport.

Next morning we bade our kind little hostess goodbye and driven to the airport where all was busy. The formalities over, we were soon on board the Qantas plane. It was obvious that accommodation had been made especially for us, as we occupied seats put where the luggage was usually stored. Mr Taylor was there to see us off and it was hard for us adequately to put into words our deep gratitude for all his help to us in our hour of need. Then we were off and after landing at Koepang, Timor for refuelling (where a week later the Qantas plane was shot down), we started on the last stage of our journey over the Timor Sea to Australia!

It was with great thankfulness that we saw it come into sight. We circled the harbour at Darwin and alighted near the shore. The harbour was crowded with ships of all descriptions and it was a few weeks later that a heavy raid did so much damage to the town and the ships in its harbour. Our anxieties were not yet over! We stayed the night at a hotel and early next morning started for Townsville en route for Brisbane and Sydney. We came down for refuelling at a little island in the Gulf of Carpentaria — De Groot Englandt — and then arrived at Townsville in the late afternoon. After a meal we wandered down to the beach, it was a pretty outlook to the islands lying offshore.

The next morning we rose early to continue our journey but found a terrific tropical storm in progress with thunder and lightning and we asked the pilot whether he would be attempting to leave. He replied that reports of the weather ahead were good and he thought he could safely attempt it. We did not feel too sanguine about it when we reached the harbour, a fairly high sea was running and wind and rain lashed our small motor launch when we embarked for the plane. Added to this, our plane was heavily overloaded and tail-heavy and taking off each time had been a very anxious time for the pilots. This time we made two attempts to take off and though the engines roared and the plane tore across the harbour, it refused to rise. The steward came through and told us the pilot would make one more attempt but if he could not manage it this time we would have to return to the hotel. This time the plane roared away again with spray, wind and rain lashing around us. After what seemed an interminable time, it at last rose clear of the sea but was rocking and bumping violently and seemed unable to gain any height and a nightmare journey began.

The weather did not improve, in fact it seemed to get worse. The pilot flew first over the sea, then over the land but the plane continued to fly low, bumping and rolling very badly. Hour after hour we flew on under these conditions, the steward informed us the pilots were not attempting any stops and would fly straight through to Brisbane. So the hours went by, with the plane still hovering low over the sea, so that when we could see through the rain-swept windows, the spray from the waves breaking below seemed to be nearly reaching up to us. When we knew we were due, we looked in vain for Brisbane, there was still no sign of it. Then we approached some high hills and I remembered there were such hills north of Brisbane and so we took heart as the ordeal seemed nearly over. Suddenly the plane gave a great lurch and we were looking into the side of a hill, so close that we could see its crevices — we had nearly flown into it in the heavy mist and rain.

Just after this the weather cleared and we sighted below us a large, new airfield under construction and then we were over the city and its river on which we were to land stretched before us. With what thankfulness and relief we stepped out of that plane, nearly two hours late according to its schedule, though we had not stopped at Gladstone! One lady who had done much flying said to the pilot that it seemed to have been an exceptionally bad passage and he replied, “Madam you’ve said it. We had to fight every inch of the way. I hope I never have to do it again!” He and his co-pilot looked grey with fatigue and I noticed how one’s hand was shaking as he lit his cigarette. The storm seemed to have stretched all across Australia, for passengers who had left Darwin to transfer to a plane to Perth had a very narrow escape from death when their plane ‘pancaked’ in the marshes. They were rescued with difficulty and I believe lost all their luggage.

I remained in Brisbane to look up members of my mother’s family who had migrated to Australia some 30 years previously and I said ‘au revoir’ to Clare and Norma, my companions in the escape, who continued their journey to Sydney, promising to see them later. I went on thither three weeks later.

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