She laughed and spun round, her frilly dress swirling round in a lovely way. She stood up on tiptoes and kissed him lightly on the cheeks. Ah, how that had felt – her soft delicate lips touching his sun burnt skin in a moment of bliss. This is the girl I want to spend my life with, he had thought.
Now that seemed surreal. All these happy moments had come to an abrupt end, along with all hope of a marriage to Shayna, when the world had stopped turning for him. That was when the Japanese invaded, under the command of the greedy dictator Yamasuki Marutama. He sought out their country as a base for his assault into Asia.
Now he, Julian Teo Zi Zhao, looked at the bleak future and saw no promise ahead, no light at the end of the dark tunnel. He simply had nothing to look forward to, no future ahead, and no reason to live any longer. He looked at the wall and wanted desperately to smash his head against it. But he did not dare to. Although he knew the Chinese saying that a moment of suffering is preferable to prolonged suffering, he was afraid of the pain. With a long-suffering sigh of self-pity and leaned against the wall to try and sleep while the bombing was taking place. If the bomb shelter caved in on him while he was sleeping, all the better.
A voice cut sharply into the haze of his weary slumber. No one had spoken loudly since the bomb shelter door had shut days before. “It sounds like the bombing has stopped…” “Why don’t you have a look, Ming?” The door creaked open slowly. Suddenly a great cheer erupted and everyone, despite their weary bodies, surged towards the door.
When Julian stepped into the daylight once again, it seemed that the entire city had changed completely. An entire row of buildings towards the left had been leveled by heavy bombing, and most of the buildings around had been reduced to rubble as well.
The people who had spent days cooped up in the tiny bomb shelter now streamed out as fast as their stiff joints would allow. Most went looking for loved ones, some just cried, and the rest, including Julian, now simply walked around aimlessly. After all, since their country was now on the losing end of a war, with their houses probably destroyed and family split up, they had nowhere to go, no idea at all of what to do. Suddenly a shout rang out and people started to flee in all directions. It was a group of Japanese soldiers, now heading their way! The crack of a rifle fire split the air, and instantly all of Julian’s thoughts of turning tail and running vanished. The people who did were dispatched swiftly. The group of straggling survivors were rounded up and brought to a six-tonner truck, where they boarded and were blindfolded.
A shot was heard. Immediately all the Japanese soldiers responded, speed borne of rigorous military training and alertness coming from sheer necessity during the war to survive. Aiming their rifles at the British platoon that was just coming into view, a firefight began. The soldier beside Julian was shot down, a bullet clean through hi8 head. This was the perfect distraction for him to escape! Then a thought occurred to him – how was he going to help the rest of the survivors escape? If he did the large group of people running off would surely get the attention of the Japanese. So he resolved that he would leave the rest of the people here and run off by himself. He jumped off the truck and made a mad dash for the nearest standing building. His life depended on it. As he was nearing his target, he suddenly felt a sharp pain in his left thigh. He looked down and stared numbly at the bullet hole there, finally toppling to the ground. His head hit the ground and the world faded from existence.
Julian woke up three days later in a torture chamber in the Japanese Secret Police Headquarters. He opened his eyes to find a menacing looking man staring straight into his eyes. He held a blood-crusted whip in one hand and in the other he was holding Julian’s shoulder in an iron grip. The look on his face seemed to say, I will be your torturer for the day, and indeed he would be, Julian realised. The man pulled Julian roughly from the blood-stained floor, cracking the whip across his back. Julian screamed as white hot agony seared across his back.
That was when the door flew open. A bald-headed European man and a Japanese general, easily identifiable by his uniform, stepped in. “What is going on?” The bald-headed man asked in perfect, accented English. His eyes widened when he saw Julian. “What is he doing in such a place? He’s but a teenager, and moreover an injured one. Get him down now!” The menacing sadist who was the officer on duty tried to protest, but the European man was firm and would not budge from his stand. The torturer had no choice but to let him into the custody of his benefactor. The European man beckoned to Julian and said, “Walk beside me, if you will.” Julian stood and made his way to the man’s side, feeling a little dizzy, because of his wound and also because of his close brush with the torturer and simply because events were happening too fast for him to comprehend.
The man asked him, “What is your name?””Julian, sir.””Well, Julian, would you like a cup of coffee?” Julian looked at the man, surprised. This man was actually offering him coffee, which had been a rarity since the war started? “Sure, thank you.” He put on the accent he had picked up from his British tutor, whom his father had hired at great cost, but then money was no problem in a rich businessman’s estate. His near-perfect, accented English was not lost on the European. “You speak well, my friend. Almost like a native speaker from Europe.” Julian tried to be modest. “My teacher taught me well.” The European surprised him yet again. “How would you like to restore your family’s wealth?” Julian was cautious of this too-good-to-be-true offer and the stranger’s quick wit and intelligence. “What do I have to do?” “Well, it’s simple. As a teenager no one would notice you. No one would realise you arelistening in. Now, all you have to do is report to me what you hear, and that’s it. Sometimes I will give you some assignments. Now you will be doing no one any harm, and you will be helping me at the same time. Don’t you want to help me, Julian, after I have saved you from the reach of that evil man? Surely you do not want to return to the grasp of people like him?” Suddenly the man’s voice, though still kindly, had a hard edge to it. Seeing no choice at all in the choice he was being given, and since as the man had said, no harm would come out of it, Julian agreed.
“Here’s your first task. It’s rather simple, actually. You shall go to the warehouse next to the noodle shop “Fu Tak’s Noodle Stall” and report to me what you heard from the traitorous resistance’s meeting. You will be protected if anything happens, so don’t worry. At the end of this you can take back 20000 banana notes.”
Julian found the place after an hour of searching. He climbed up the rafters, scrambling up the last few planks just as the “resistance traitors” came in. He strained his ears to listen. “…and we have to get rid of Japanese control in the eastern part of Singapore. That is a crucial step in ridding the country of the invaders and restoring our freedom.” Julian knew from their conversation that these people were trying to free the country, and wondered whether reporting this would really do no harm. It seemed that these matters were much more important than him, and Julian was starting to think perhaps he shouldn’t report this after all. Caught up in his considerations, Julian accidentally knocked his feet against a plank. All heads looked up. Julian froze. “He’s there!” A bearded man pointed. A pistol was drawn and aimed at him, as a man instructed him to get down immediately. He climbed down from the rafters, thinking desperately how to get out of this mess. With the gun aimed at his head, Julian didn’t dare to try anything. He tried to keep still and not make any confrontational moves, even though he knew there was a skilled Japanese Secret Service team behind him. He waited and answered, biding his time. But even as he talked to them, he wondered if he truly wanted these fighters to die. Did he want his country to stay under Japanese rule forever? Was the hunger in his stomach enough justification for that?
“What did you hear?””Nothing, sir. Really nothing.” He continued this pretence for as long as he could, but soon he knew that no Japanese team would come. He was exposed and he was of no further use. He blurted out everything to the interrogator. After hearing his story, the man shook his head and sighed softly. “Many people living in this conquered city have fallen prey to this scheme, where someone appears to be very rough and fearful, then another will save you from him. So you will owe your ‘saviour’ and also be grateful to him.” Reflecting upon what the man had said, Julian realised it was the truth. He had indeed fallen prey to such a scheme, which explained why no troops had come to his rescue. He had lost his value and at that very moment someone was probably being tricked the same way. His chest swelled in anger as he understood he had been made use of, his emotions played with by the Caucasian. He thought about the many people who had been tricked like him, and the people who had to actually go through torture at the hands of evil Japanese sadists. He wanted to join these noble men to free his country! As he thought this, layers of skin peeled off him. His cowardice, his indifference, all of them were shed like snakeskin. A new resolve and confidence hardened his heart.
He turned to the fighters and said,“I want to join you.”
