The war that reached a kampung

Kuala Pilah is a quaint little town known for its beauty and tranquility but few remember its dark past where a whole village was wiped out by the Japanese during WW2.

FEATURE

By Joané le Roux
Malaysia, a football frenzied nation, mourned the retirement of Manchester United manager Sir Alex Ferguson earlier this year at the age of 71 but how many Malaysians can recall the Pacific War bloodshed in Kuala Pilah 71 years ago?

Described as an old valley town, Kuala Pilah was one of the areas hit hardest during the Japanese occupation of the Peninsula. On the morning of March 16, 1942 an estimated 675 villagers were brutally slaughtered at Parit Tinggi, a small settlement in the Kuala Pilah district.

Today Kuala Pilah is better known for its Malay Minangkabau inheritance. A main stopover for transport routes, the town betrays little of the mutilation its inhabitants once suffered.

Taking the picturesque Route 51 from Seremban to Kuala Pilah, one is stunned by the tranquility and beauty the landscape and its people have to offer. Water buffaloes lazily roam the footpaths between rice paddies. Locals proudly sell wild honey and tongkat ali at road side stalls. Men cast lines in ponds against the backdrop of the Titiwangsa mountain range. Life is good and life is now.

There was a time life was less carefree for villagers, though. Law Kah Fong, 77, recalls a different time when he was only seven years old.

“My father and two of my brothers were killed by the Japanese at Parit Tinggi. My father was a businessman. When he died, my mother was left to make a living by selling ice water and buying goods to re-sell. Today, it’s only me and my younger sister who are still alive. Every year during the Qing Ming Festival we talk to the younger generation about what happened in 1942.”

Fong’s family, like many others, ‘escaped’ to Parit Tinggi, believing that the Japanese Army was more likely to do damage in Kuala Pilah town than in the outskirts. They were wrong. A bicycle infantry of about 80 soldiers reached Parit Tinggi the day before the massacre.

At 10am the next morning the village chief, who prepared a welcome meal for the army, was ordered to gather all men, women and children on a field for an Identity Check. The Japanese officer who gave the order, promised locals that the purpose of the exercise was to give them Safe Residency Passes. The unsuspecting villagers complied.

In groups of twenty, villagers were marched in different directions. Around mid-day the whole village was burnt down and its inhabitants cruelly bayoneted to death. Bodies were left to rot in the tropic sun and permission was only gotten a year later to bury them in a mass grave.

A memorial, erected just outside Parit Tinggi by the Negeri Sembilan Chinese Assembly Hall of Seremban in 1983, commemorates the lives lost during the tragedy. In the same area a forgotten well, where soldiers dumped numerous bodies, also serves as a reminder of a time when “kill all, rob all and burn all” was the norm. Kuala Pilah residents remember the Japanese days as a time of fear.

“People suffered from a lack of food. People ended up eating a lot of cassava and sweet potatoes. Big-bellied, malnourished children were a common sight. There were very few shops in Kuala Pilah at that time doing business” says 80-year-old Lee Cheng The.

Bribery only means of survival
Many pre-war Chinese shop houses still line the streets of Kuala Pilah today. A lot of the businesses are family owned and have survived many generations. Traditional lock- and key smiths, cobblers, and Singer outlets are still in business. Quite a few bicycle shops can also be found. Bicycles were the transport mode of choice for the Japanese Army to carry equipment and traverse jungle roads better.

Lee was 10 years old at the time of the occupation. He remembers studying under the Japanese Army at school as a boy. Children were forced to study in Japanese and were forever mindful to bow in front of their teachers for the fear of being stabbed to death. SJKC Chung Hua Primary School is one of the schools that, during the time of the occupation, were guarded by and run by the Japanese.

“Barefooted patched-up kids doing early morning drills and participating in flag ceremonies was the norm,” says Chen Chee Tiang. Tiang, 82, attended SJKC Chung Hua during the occupation.

Another Kuala Pilah school, SK Tunku Kurshiah (SKTK), came to be a historic reminder of bloodshed. SKTK, says Tiang, was erected on the lands that were once a jungle killing and dumping field. Younger generation residents recall stories told to them by older family members.

“My mother told me she used to disguise herself because beauty was considered dangerous during that time,” says Lee Hock, 59.

Numerous reports of female kidnapping, rape and sexual slavery surfaced after the War. In 1932 the comfort station system was established in Shanghai. The system, introduced to prevent Japanese soldiers from contracting venereal diseases and also to avoid a repeat of the Rape of Nanjing, did little but comfort women.

Comfort stations were introduced nationwide in the Peninsula and also found its way to Kuala Pilah. A large Tudor style bungalow in the vicinity of Kuala Pilah’s Malaysian Chinese Association, stands as a reminder of a system gone wrong. Women were left to their own devices in stations where some were repeatedly raped, starved and often seen as a disgrace by their own families.

Hock also recollects accounts of people cycling to nearby Bahau to buy piglets and ducks to bribe Japanese soldiers to escape torture and death. Countless Chinese Malaysians switched camps during the Occupation and resorted to bribery as an only means of survival for them and their families.

Mostly Kuala Pilah old-timers seem unwilling to dwell on the misfortunes of the past. Many residents now have family members who study in Japan. Business relations between Malaysia and Japan continue to flourish and grow.

When asked whether he harbours any ill feelings towards the Japanese, Tiang remarks, “That was war. War must be like that”.

Through forgiveness this quaint little town manages to impress the visitor. Allow yourself a weekend trip down to Kuala Pilah. Book a homestay. Indulge in some nasi goreng kampung style. Cast a line with the local boys. Attend a religious ceremony. Visit the remnants. You will not be disappointed.

Joané le Roux is a freelance journalist currently based in Seremban.