Stanley

I went to Stanley, on the south side of the island, with Georgie Hunt, a Shropshire friend who now lives here. Once you are away from the north coast you get into lovely hilly, verdant country and the pace of life slows to the comprehensible.

Stanley

Stanley

We visited the war cemetery at Stanley and I found the grave of one of Dad’s colleagues, who he mentions in his story of the battle. The poor man, George Neve, died in January ’42, having been wounded in battle at Aberdeen in late December. I don’t suppose the healthcare in POW camp was up to treating wounds or fending off infection. On further investigation I find to my horror that wounded men in Stanley hospital were often bayoneted to death by the Japanese. Man’s inhumanity to man is unbearable.

George Neve's grave at Stanley

George Neve’s grave at Stanley

Most of the graves were for young men who’d died in the last 2 or 3 days of the battle. One can’t help feeling that they died in vain. They may have had a better time of it than those who were imprisoned, however, many of whom did not survive.

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