Escape to Pagan by Brian Devereux

it looked more like a group of people about to set out for an afternoon picnic. As we were the last to arrive we were placed at the back of the convoy. We would reach the station the following afternoon. Finally the whole convoy slowly pulled away. The old Chinese lorry sounded as if it was on its last legs. The roads to and from Taunggyi had been cut along the sides of mountains and were very dangerous. Drops of several hundred feet awaited any vehicle that ventured too near the edge; then there were the dozens of hairpin bends to be negotiated. As dusk approached, the whole convoy pulled in under the cover of trees. Cyril and Victor heard peafowl in the jungle and taking their guns went to hunt them. They did not find the peafowl but returned later with small colourful jungle foul which my mother plucked and cooked. Makeshift beds were being prepared and when darkness fell many fires were lit between the vehicles for the evening meal. People began walking around and discussing the following day’s journey and deciding where to set up home once they had reached India. Nobody could sleep that night. None of us believed the Japanese would be in Burma for long and were already making plans for our return to our homes. My mother said we should go to Goa; we had Portuguese relatives there who lived by the sea. I knew my mother was worried about her other children. I was always concerned that she would suddenly change her mind at the last minute and stay in Burma, the country of her birth that she knew intimately.
    â€œThe early dawn found everyone preparing for the final leg of our journey to the station. Our journey began badly as one of the cars ahead of us would not start. As time was now the vital factor, it was pushed over the precipice and went tumbling into the jungle below causing the monkeys and parrots to scatter noisily. The passengers and loads were transferred to other vehicles and we moved on. It was now imperative that we catch the train and reach Myitkyina airport before the Japanese. I sat in the front of the lorry with my mother as Victor was driving.
    â€œThe road we were travelling on was ideal for ambush. The fear was heightened when the convoy passed several dead bodies by the side of the road. The convoy had travelled a few miles further on whenanother vehicle in the middle broke down blocking the way. Again the people and their baggage were redistributed and the vehicle was pushed over the precipice. We were slowly moving out of the cool of the hills; the weather was becoming hotter and the roads dustier. Soon all the vehicles in front of us were throwing up clouds of dust making it difficult for Victor to see the road ahead and as it was too hot to close the windows, he let the convoy pull away, while keeping it in sight. This was to prove a disaster.
    â€œSuddenly the tyre on the front wheel of our lorry burst and we came to a halt. The convoy continued, leaving us totally alone on the jungle fringed road; the last vehicle disappeared around a bend. We were now in a desperate situation as time was vital. After much searching, my brothers found a spare wheel and some tools but alas, no jack. The train was leaving at one o’clock; it was now ten-thirty and we still had twenty miles to go. Our situation seemed hopeless. Mother calmly began walking ahead to find room at the side of the road to light a fire and make tea; my brother Victor went with her. Cyril went into the jungle to cut a strong branch to act as a fulcrum to change the wheel.
    â€œWhen Cyril returned he called out to Victor and both my brothers got to work on the lorry. They had barely finished when three armed men in tattered uniforms silently appeared out of the jungle: Chinese soldiers. There was something about their manner that made us feel uneasy; although their rifles were not pointing at us, the weapons were in a ready to use position. The Chinese soldiers looked desperate and were extremely thin. One of them was