On one occasion several officers brought up huge tins of onions concealed in gas-capes and haversacks; and the next morning, others of us about to go to the docks were given the number of this derelict onion Go-Down. We went down in a party fetching gravel, under the charge of a tough looking corporal with a couple of privates. In between the loads going back to camp we strolled innocently round the docks, looking at the shipping like day-trippers, our ground sheets over our arms in spite of the blazing sun. We found the crate of onions, and got away about twenty large tins before the trucks came back. Our Nip guards were presumably dozing somewhere. On the next two loads we sent up several waterproof capes, and also some bandages and medical supplies we found in an isolated railway truck. And then we found some bags of sugar in another truck. On the last load but one I suggested making sure of what we had already got, and two of us returned safely to camp with all our stuff. The two other officers intended coming up on the next load with a whole sack of sugar, so confident were we.

Sitting down to lunch, there was still no sign of the other two but, after a few minutes, in rushed an O.R. asking for the interpreter to come at once to the old putting-green by the Club House. It seemed that the Nip corporal had known what was going on. When all the trucks were loaded up and the troops sitting on top ready to return to lunch, he started to search them. A lot of sugar was found, but not enough. So when they reached the other end, everyone was lined up for another search as soon as the interpreter could arrive. The last load had been a load of sand, and they got rid of a lot of sugar in the sand.

On the putting-green the interpreter laid the position before them. The Nip corporal demanded that all who had stolen sugar should come forward and admit it, and take their punishment; if they did not, there would be a rigorous search and more severe punishment. On the advice of the interpreter about a dozen men stepped forward, including the officer in charge of the party. The officer had already had his face swiped; now it was the men’s turn. They were punched and slapped in the face, and if they took it without moving, that was the end; if they flinched, they were stripped and kicked in the stomach, but only with rubber boots this time. This was a normal, mild reprimand by not too bad a Nip. Some 135 lbs. of sugar was collected up, and illogically sent by the Nips to our cookhouse!