Master Aircrew J. Vincent Gavin on flying out survivors of the death camps, Southeast Asia, August 1945.
“Looking down on the landscape of forests, hills and plains surrounding the route of the Bangkok to Burma railroad – the ‘Railroad of Death’ – we felt strong emotions. We were the crew of Douglas DC3 Dakota, no 538, and were flying into Bangkok’s Don Mueang airfield shortly after the release of the surviving prisoners and internees following the Japanese surrender. We were to receive some of these survivors and fly them to Rangoon.
“Many of the genocide details from the extermination camps in Europe and the atrocities in the Far East, with disease and death for so many, were now widely known. Being assigned to this mission was therefore an enormous privilege and for me; the most rewarding experience of nearly 2,000 hours’ flying.
“It was reported that the Japanese had orders to execute all prisoners and captives, and their release had come only days before the executions were to begin. After clearance and landing at Don Mueang, we parked beside other aircraft. In all, several squadrons arrived to receive the very important passengers. First, the more serious medical category C personnel, and when transport arrived with our crew, 25 passengers, we found a number had lost an arm or leg in captivity, with no – or only improvised – medical equipment or supplies.
“However, greetings and handshakes were hearty and prolonged, and we began to be closely questioned on the many things that had been lost to them in the previous three-and-a-half years. Sport and entertainment were high on the list, but in spite of their experiences, we were soon joining in some smiles and laughter, and some passed jokes and humorous comments between themselves. Such is the capacity of the human spirit to rise above adversity.
J. Vincent Gavin during training in Canada in the early 1940s. (Family archive)
“When most of the questions had been answered to the best of our ability, all boarded the aircraft and we took off, climbed on course for Rangoon and once levelled off at 4,000 feet in perfect flying conditions; the monsoon weather having cleared a week or so earlier. Our special passengers were invited in ones and twos to observe the navigation wireless operation and to sit in the copilot seat for a few minutes, which they said was a fascinating experience.
“Only a few days earlier they had been freed from hell into something which initially seemed like paradise for a brief period. But the legacy of problems of malaria and the many other diseases and health impairments would continue into the future.
“In contrast, service personnel arriving to take part in the Southeast Asia campaign had been required to take the yellow anti-malarial Mepacrine tablets, which gradually turned the skin yellow also, but were effective together with mosquito nets and other medical and health safeguards.
“With everyone on the aircraft back in their place, we flew over the Gulf of Martaban and, nearing Rangoon, sighted the gold encrusted Shwedagon Pagoda. This, the largest Buddhist temple, was named the Winking Wonder by someone – was it Kipling?
Emaciated POWs in Rangoon jail, Burma, awaiting evacuation. ©IWM
“On landing at Mingaladon, our passengers were taken to make preparations for the next stage of their journey, while in the following days we were able to bring more of the freed survivors from Bangkok and Saigon. Great days indeed for us and our squadron, No 62, which was one of the many squadrons involved. The ground crews and all the supporting personnel too, for it was on them that the efficiency of all operations depended.
“Our original crew of three, Ron (navigator), Vincent (wireless operator) and I (pilot), were together for a long time as a well-tuned, smoothly running team of close friends. We had been through the greatest challenge during the monsoons, through which supplies were flown for the final stages of the Burma campaign.
“Prior to departing for Southeast Asia, I was enjoying a final short leave visiting relatives in London when a V2 rocket landed 100 yards away. It brought down ceiling and walls in a choking blanket of rubble and dust which did me no harm externally but internally took days for me to get free of the effects. This followed earlier experiences when based in London through the Blitz. Taking part in the rescue of Far East POWs was a welcome recompense after these earlier close encounters.”
Its construction had cost the lives of 700 British, Dutch, Australian, American and New Zealand POWs, plus about 80,000 romusha. This works out at 600 deaths per mile of track.
The above account and images were kindly provided by Carl Gavin, son of J. Vincent Gavin.
Gavin on his wedding day. (Family archive)
