When you got used to the stale and unhealthy smell that was at first so noticeable; and when you got used to the terrific crush during the bathing hours in the river, and no longer objected to the vegetable peel, relics of dried fish and other refuse that used to bump into the back of your neck as you lazed in the shallow water; and when the ‘Japan Parties’ and the ‘Sick Parties’ had left and reduced the camp to about 6,000 or less, you began to lose the initial disappointment you had on arrival there again from up country and commenced to enjoy the benefits that still did exist and that led a pretty quiet, undisturbed sort of life. Apparently, when Chungkai was first sited, the Thais had told the Nips that the area flooded every year and the Canutist Nips had ‘Kanayaro-ed’ and carried on. But every year the camp did regularly get flooded out, sometimes (as in 1944) twice. It was not just a minor affair. The camp lay on the bank of the main river and at the back of us was another tributary. As a result the tributary flooded first and the bottom end of the camp became completely under water, which would creep steadily up till the bottom half of the main row of huts was awash, the entire football field a lake and most of the latrines full and fallen in. A couple of days later the main river would flood straight into the camp, washing out the cookhouses, the canteen and part of the four huts nearest that side. The river by this time was always a rushing brown stream going down at about eight knots bringing houses, trees, small villages, bamboo and every sort of rubbish; strong swimmers used to go out into it about 400 yards above the camp, clamber on a tree trunk and swim it into the camp for the cookhouse. The record was a 55-foot tree steered in by one man!

When the floods were at their worst, there remained only about two acres of the highest part of the camp that were dry, and everything was moved up there: cookhouses, stores, and latrines, all packed together under canvas or right out in the open. Some of the huts had to be evacuated, but most people preferred to stay on their slats until the water level was only a few inches below them. Little Thai boats darted about the camp and tied up near the top of the Proscenium Arch of the theatre, where many people were bathing in the deep pool that was the auditorium only 24 hours before. The floods may have lasted for a week, or less, or a little longer. There was a foul smell and a lot of muck when the river went down, but it all dried out and cleaned up in a few days.