I remember you once wrote something about WW2.My uncle was only
14 or 15 but still he was forced to go up the truck although that
was not supposed to happen,he was never seen again.Of course you
not my uncle lah but just sharing this with you also>LOL
I was still a kid during WWII. We lived downtown and after a
frightening Japanese air raid many move to the kampongs. We move to
somewhere near Siang Lim Temple at the end of Kim Keat Road
(probably Lor 8 area). It was a rubber plantation and the family
huddled together as we heard gun shots and bombs exploding.
I was too young to understand danger. I ran to play one morning,
pick up the dead angmo soldier's water bottles back to the kampong
shed. My parents were so angry and I got whacked terok terok, the
worst I ever been punished.
