Blood on The tracks

Traveling through time on the Burma Death Railway

Bangkok sleeps early. Early morning, that is. As my wife and I step out of our self-catered apartment in Th Suan Phlu near Lumpini Park at about 6 am, we are amazed to find not a soul in sight. Less than four hours earlier, stampede-worthy crowds thronged these very streets, urban explosion at its detonation point, every nook and cranny crammed with a stall or a vendor or at least a honking tuktuk. Now, empty. We walk the entire block silently for a good 800 metres till the corner of Sathorn Road, where a lone pink taxi is pulled over by the wayside. Without fuss, we alight and utter the magic words.

“Thonburi Station.”

Within a few minutes, we’ve crossed the Chaophraya river, and bifurcated into a much older city. Derelict buildings and narrow bylanes, our taxi a time machine. Given its traffic notoriety, we have factored in the usual 2 hour Bangkok commute time. And here we are, in under 10 minutes. 15, tops. As I stand in the queue at the counter that simply reads “Third Class Passenger Ticket”, I must admit to a certain rush that courses through me. After all, this is the infamous Burmese ‘Death Railway’, across the bridge on the river Kwai into the heart of Thailand’s wild and unspoilt Kanchanaburi province.

Thonburi Station wakes early. Most unlike Bkk

The Nam Tok Express leaves at 7.45 am

Seems familiar?

Rewind to 1939. Asian ‘Axis’ power Japan starts to rampantly invade much of North and South East Asia. Thailand plays in Asia a role akin to Switzerland’s in Europe. No direct participation, but tacit support and occupation by the Japanese. To bring supplies into Burma, there’s only the sea route via Straits of Malacca, teeming with ‘allied’ submarines. Thus, the need for a railway link from Thailand into Burma. The Brits have already surveyed the mountainous terrain and concluded it is impossible to build such a railway. The Japs think otherwise. The Kempeitai, Japan’s secret police, not unlike Nazi Germany’s Gestapo, is roped in to expedite this herculean task. Using allied prisoners of war and unskilled Asian labourers, they set about building the Burma railway.

What should normally take more than ten years to build, if at all feasible, is attempted in ten months. Documented stories of abominable human suffering stand testimony to the building of the Burma railway. The Imperial Japanese Army (IJA) indoctrinated its soldiers to believe that surrender was dishonourable. POWs were therefore thought to be unworthy of respect. Severe punishments were meted out for even minor mistakes, such as failure to salute a Japanese guard. The sick and the ailing were not excused from duty, often leading to their deaths. More than 100,000 workers died under brutal conditions and unimaginable cruelty during the building of this railroad. It is said that one life was lost for each sleeper laid on this track.

The Burma Railway started operating in early 1944. However, on 13^th February 1945, the British Royal Air Force (RAF) bombed Bridge 277, the bridge over the Khwae Noi river, and with it, put paid to Japanese ambitions of world dominion. Most of us know the story through Pierre Boulle’s war-epic and later David Lean classic ‘The Bridge on the River Kwai’. After the Japanese surrender, the British removed about 4 kms of track at the Burma border. The track was sold to Thai Railway, who re-laid the Thai side of the railway between Ban Pong and Nam Tok. This section continues to be in use today. The present bridge has two of its central spans rebuilt. The original parts that were bombed can be seen at the War Museum.

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The third class compartment aboard the Nam Tok Express isn’t half bad. Although non air-con, the seats match First Class offerings elsewhere in South Asia. What’s more, apart from the excellent pre-packed fruit and satay packets, the local vendors walking up and down the train aisle also carry beer. As we leave Bangkok behind us, the verdant greenery of rural Thailand dazzles. Before long, we are in mountain country. Although the train stops at Kanchanaburi, we choose to continue all the way to Nam Tok, crossing the bridge across Kwai, and later the Wampo Viaduct, built along the cliff side above the river. The train grinds slowly across the viaduct, also built painstakingly by the wartime labourers. 

The Third Class Compartment

A traveller awaits his station eagerly

As we cross the Wampo, a persistent vision of tens of thousands of sickly men laying tracks along the impossible bends conjure up. Today, the scenery is picture postcard tropical paradise. In fact, when the POW’s were first sent into Thailand, there was a rumour that they have been ‘upgraded’ and will spend the rest of their war in comfort, as was promised to them in the earlier camps in Japan. Little did they know.

We hire a local taxi at Nam Tok, and although we had considered a trip to ‘Hellfire Pass’, a disused section of the railway where one can walk for miles along the track, the midday sun and humidity levels have crossed into the red. The prospect of a cold towel at U Inchantree in Kanchanaburi beckons. Disappointed, we aren’t. A delightful property, literally five minutes downriver from the famous bridge, every earthly comfort thought of (at earthly prices), I recommend it thoroughly. There are other options of course, among which the quirkiest would be to stay on the water itself, on rafts built on stilts. Be warned though. Late evenings won’t be quiet, especially on weekends, as Thai and Korean Karaoke parties pierce into the stillness. Mercifully, our hotel was located on the other bank, relatively immune to these attacks.

U Inchantree Resort, Kanchanaburi. Enchanting, it is

The sit-out on the Kwai river

The hotel has it's own pier

There are 3 museums and 2 cemeteries dedicated to the Burmese Railway POW’s, all within Kanchanaburi town itself. Although we visited each of them, I particularly recommend the Death Railway Museum & Research Centre for a thorough and moving experience. The Thai War museum is interesting in a different way, with life-size sculptures of scenes re-enacted. POW’s laying tracks, while Japanese policemen with sticks and pistols hovering above them, cigarettes dangling from contorted lips. A train bogey with sickly workers’ bodies heaped inside. My favourite one is a wall with Allied leaders on one side, and Axis on the other. Hitler, Mussoulini, Stalin, Churchill, they’re all here. One sign on the wall reads- “War is sinful behavior.” Another one, profound- “Peace is the behavior merit.” Clearly, some translation losses have been incurred.

From the Death Railway Museum & Research Centre

The Thai War Museum is gigantic

Life-Size depictions of Death Railway scenes

The feared Kempeitai, Japan's secret police

Ahem. Indeed

Good example of Th's continuing demand for English teachers

 Next morning, we start early and set out on a jeep across the Khwae Noi valley towards the river mouth. The spectacular drive takes us up to Erawan National Park, where the seven-tiered Erawan Falls awaits. If there’s one reason to visit this part of the world, this would clearly be it. As we keep ascending from the lower tiers to its upper reaches, the water keeps getting bluer, and the bathers scarcer. We pitch anchor at tier 6. If only the fish wouldn’t gnaw at us so, this would indeed be paradise. 

Panaromic shot of Kanchanaburi province

The river mouth. Ethereal

Tier 3 of the 7-tiered Erawan Falls

Father and son pontificate

Each tier of Erawan Falls offers something different

Tier 6, where we found our bliss

A further hour’s drive into the national park takes us to the Phra That cave site. Warning. This involves a serious climb. About 2000 steps cut into a steep mountain side. Aah, but the rewards. Stunning stalactite and stalagmites like I’ve never seen before. Entire cave walls made of quartz. One of the formations resembles a sitting Buddha. It is astonishing.

The trek up to Phrathat Caves

The cave entrance belies its massive size

The last of available light as we descend

Entire walls made of quartz

Myriad stalachtite/stalagmite formations

The curtains deep underneath

All good things do come to an end. If we had another week, we would ride on an elephant, walk along the death railway tracks to the Hellfire Pass, hire bicycles and ride along the Khwae Noi river, or just float on a boat upstream, fine tuning the art of doing nothing. Instead, we find ourselves aboard a minibus on the third day, ziplining into Bangkok’s outer reaches in under two hours.

The city has woken up, though. It takes a further two to see us back to the condo.

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