Nostalgic trek through Kwai country

Press, Volume CX, Issue 32474, 8 December 1970, Page 4

Nostalgic trek through Kwai country

If it hadn’t been for the film, “Bridge on the River Kwai,” few today would remember the epic struggle for survival of the Allied prisoners of war as they toiled on the building of the BangkokBurma railway during World War 11.

But, having made this acknowledgement, John Coast spent much of the time in the 8.8. C. documentary, “One Pair of Eyes,” showing that the film did not necessarily “tell it as it was.” Retracing his steps through the jungle in which thousands of prisoners suffered from pitiful conditions, disease, and the brutality of their captors, Coast painstakingly pursued the truth about those grim days in 1942-43.

It is surprising how effective this type of programme can be. The prospect of one man meandering over forgotten trails, unlocking doors to the past, does not seem particularly appealing as television fare. But Sunday evening viewers who saw the CHTV3 offering out to the end would agree that Coast succeeded with his assignment just as well as Lord Mountbatten did in his celebrated series of a few months ago. Coast, one of the lucky ones who survived the frenzied drive to lay 400 kilometres of railway through the heart of “appalling terrain” in 10 months, had several cuts at illusions created by the film chiefly that the Japanese were far

from being bumbling idiots when it came to constructing bridges and railways. "Very funny and only fiction," said one former Japanese soldier when asked by Coast for his reaction to the film. .

Coast brought to life the terrible days of the Far East sector of the war with his recollections of incidents such as the machine-gun threat to the Allied officers; the privations of the emaciated prisoners in the jungle; and the chilling cry of “speedo, speedo” from the Japanese guards. Standing on one of the first bridges he helped to construct, Coast recalled the greeting from Lieutenant Teremoto: “I will teach you to love your tools, or I will kill you.” The narrator made much of the cost, in human lives, of constructing the railway. About 16,000 Allied servicemen and about 100,000 Asians had died during the project—about one life for every four sleepers. It was most interesting, however, to hear the reaction of a Thai farmer when these figures were quoted to him. “Oh, you Westerners,” he said. “You are always making so much of the cost in lives. We can lose 16,000 in a few hours.”

“So you think the railway was cheap at the cost?” asked Coast. "It was a sacrifice that was worth while,” came the reply. Coast pondered over this assessment, acknowledging that the.railway had opened up new settlements and crop-bearing areas but unable to forget the human misery that lay behind the construction.

“I hope that some lesson can be learnt from the futile war which caused it to be built,” he said at the end. “But I have my doubts.”

* # * There is something amiss with “Music, Music, Music,” besides the George Mitchell Minstrels going all-white. Until Sunday evening we couldn’t put our finger on the trouble. But now we can. It’s good old George himself. The credits acknowledge that he is the boss of the minstrels, and that he is the arranger of the many numbers which are crowded into the show. But that, apparently, is not enough for George. He craves exposure. On Sunday evening he shuffled on to the scene four times. During the Scottish item he merely stood in the shadows with his hands twitching. But, on another occasion, he was actually conducting dancers while he did a boiled down version of the hokey tokey. Let us have more of the lilting voice of John Boulter and the cavorting of the blonde members of the Toppers. But, please, no more George! * * *

It was a memorable night for the women on Sunday.

Moira' Lister, as the Very Merry Widow, learnt all about weight-reducing institutions in the interests of her magazine and, not unexpectedly, failed to finish the course.

How many viewers recognised Kathy, of Kathy’s Cafe, where Jacqui satisfied her ravenous appetite? She was none other than Mrs Mc’Gurgle, the formidable proprietress of Marine House in Spike Milligan’s “Beachcomber” series. We almost expected to see Mervyn Glue staring balefully over her shoulder. * * *

The other Sunday “regular,” Barbara Mullen as the delightful Janet Macpherson in "Dr Finlay’s Casebook,” received a proposal of marriage—from a Tannochbrae minister, played by Jack May. We had visions of the Arden House triumvirate being broken up. But Dr Finlay, fresh from a triumph in treating a girl patient under hypnosis at the cottage hospital, had the answEf. “You would rather kick Dr Cameron than kiss Mr Crawford,” he said, and Janet reluctantly agreed. And so she remains' as plain Miss Macpherson. But if it did nothing else, the proposal put an added sprightliness in her step. PANDORA.