Escape to Pagan Read Free Page A

still living peacefully in their home in Taunggyi, capital of the Shan States of Burma: At least she was safe. He would never see her again.
    Perhaps it was for the best that the Sergeant did not know at that very moment that the long tentacles of the Japanese Imperial Army were slowly reaching out towards the borders of Burma from Thailand. Or that his wife, mother-in-law and young son, whom he had yet to meet, would shortly be wandering the dangerous jungles of Burma, without shelter or protection. The Sergeant began slipping back into a dark chasm that beckoned him. It was tempting him to enter its painless oblivion. On the Golden Hill battlefield, the sun was now only a hands breath from the horizon, night was falling. The Sergeant began to shiver.

    â€œJack told me that he and Lieutenant Ford led a counter-attack to clear the Japanese soldiers from Golden Hill when he was wounded. The battlefield was now quiet. Jack was paralyzed and unconscious but every now and then his body jerked in spasm. Unfortunately, these spasms indicated he was still alive.
    â€œWhen Jack awoke early the following day he felt so cold, his uniform was wet with dew. He longed for the warmth of a blanketand something hot to drink. Soon he found he could move his right arm and his fingers. His left arm was trapped under his chest [the Sergeant was left-handed], the fingers of his trapped hand still clutched his service revolver; its barrel was pointing towards his stomach. After the war, he told me that thoughts of ending his suffering entered his numbed brain; all he had to do was to pull the trigger but the revolver barrel was positioned under his stomach and he did not have the strength to force the barrel higher towards his heart. He knew a stomach wound would only prolong and increase his suffering. He pushed the idea from his mind: he was dying anyway.
    â€œJack lay wounded on the battlefield for several days drifting in and out of consciousness. Hong Kong as yet had not fallen; he could hear the sound of artillery in the distance. Jack managed to lift his throbbing head; looking around the battlefield he began to hallucinate. Suddenly he saw his mother slowly walking towards him with a cup of tea and a blanket. He hoped she was also bringing him cigarettes. Jack was always a very heavy smoker, he needed a last smoke so badly. He could see his mother’s dark shadow approaching but why was she moving so slowly? She seemed to be stopping and looking down at the dead as if studying the bodies at her feet. Perhaps she was looking for him? He wanted to call out to her but his vocal cords did not respond.
    â€œSuddenly his mother’s shadow was standing over him, he waited for her to speak; she remained silent. It was then he felt a heavy blow to the back of his neck followed by a sharp pain; fresh warm blood trickled down into his mouth. It was not his mother.
    â€œThe dark shadow standing over him slowly bent down and gripped his right arm roughly. The shadow then began to pull him over several dead bodies that lay nearby. Jack began lifting his stiff bloodied neck and shattered head and could see a pair of shiny black, riding boots covered with splashes of blood. The riding boots were occasionally obliterated by a flash of gleaming metal reflecting the weak early morning sunlight. Jacks stunned and pain ridden mind soon awoke to the reality: he was being dragged by an enemy officer to a more convenient place of execution.”

    The flashing metal object was a naked sword held in a smooth brown hand.
    Anger welled up in the Sergeant’s shattered head; he could be a volatile man when roused. His wounded brain struggled back to consciousness. He desperately wanted to extend his life even for a few moments longer, despite the pain of his wounds; for such is human nature and our fear of the unknown.
    The Japanese officer hesitated and stopped pulling his victim, this tall man was heavy. A sixth sense perhaps or the sound of a