“Changi Citadel” – The Salvation Army Corps in a Japanese Prisoner of War Camp

During the Second World War, Salvationists in the military ended up in prisoner-of-war camps. This did not mean they ceased to be Salvationists. For many of them, this was to be the greatest test of their commitment to Salvationist principles. This is the story of one of those groups. The information is taken and adapted from “Campaigning in Captivity” by Arch. R. Wiggins, London: Salvationist Publishing and Supplies Ltd. 1947 pp. 82-88

Setting the scene

The war in the Far East did not start well for Britain and her allies. Singapore, the great fortress of Britain’s eastern empire, fell to the Japanese in February 1942. The local government capitulated, and the British and Commonwealth forces marched out of Singapore and into some of the harshest captivity to be experienced by any prisoners of war in the Second World War. The captured servicemen were initially imprisoned in a large camp at Changi. The prisoners at Changi camp included many Salvationists.

Arrival at Changi

Changi was a large camp with thousands of servicemen imprisoned within it, not all of whom spoke the same language. Many of the Salvationists were in different parts of the camp and did not know each other or know that there were other Salvationists there. The prisoners were not encouraged to meet with each other, and apart from work details, there was little opportunity to move around the camp.

The different groups all started to carry out the work of the Army in the prison camp, unaware of what each other were doing, but all working for the same goal. Eventually, they would be brought together.

Evangelism Begins in the Prison Camp

Open-air work was begun first, holding meetings for the other prisoners with songs and prayers and preaching. This started to gather attention and helped to bring together Salvationists, but it also provided an opportunity for the prisoners to hear and respond to their songs and prayers.

One group managed to secure the use of a small, rundown, thatched hut without sides in a secluded part of the camp. They worked quickly in what little free time they had available, often using their sleep time to contribute to the work. They renovated the hut, and together, they made a citadel for the camp. This became a place of worship and tears, a place where broken hearts were made whole again, and people who were imprisoned found freedom and hope.

The First Citadel Takes Shape

They fixed the Army crest, made by Bandsman Tom Burberry of Epsom Corps, over the door. Above the door, the words ‘The Salvation Army’ were painted, and a small garden was organised and tended on each side of the pathway leading to the entrance. Beauty was encouraged in a place where there was so little beauty and life to be found.

Inside the citadel they built a platform with bamboo rails and constructed a reading desk. They made a mercy seat with the words ‘Jesus Never Fails’ painted on it. A promise of hope for the members and for anyone who went past the hut.

Then, they hung an Army flag from the reading desk so everyone knew where they belonged. They had fought under the British colours and surrendered to the enemy. Even in captivity, the Salvation Army flag represented something unconquerable, something undefeated, a victory that was found even in a prison camp.

The flag was made by Candidate Laurence Smith of Hadleigh, who dyed scavenged pieces of cloth in various liquids until the right shades could be found. Another flag, made by Corps Treasurer Stanley Leeder of Diss Corps, was hung at the back of the corps and included the date of opening for the citadel: 11th October 1942.

The meetings were initially run by volunteers, but they swiftly organised officers and local officers, electing them from their gathered members. Brother Roy Hart-Brown of Watford became the Captain, Brother A. J. Curtis of Belvedere the Lieutenant, and Bandsman Jack Oxenbridge of Gravesend the Corps Sergeant-Major.

Two weeks later, the Japanese moved the Captain and Lieutenant to another camp. Oxenbridge was unanimously chosen as the new Captain, and Brother W. Lord of Bishop’s Stortford became the Sergeant-Major.

Saving Souls in the P.O.W Camp

They launched a soul-saving campaign immediately, committed to winning the prison camp for Jesus.

They may have been prisoners, but they were out to set men free from sin. Attendance at the Citadel went from fifteen to sixty-five. They kept the hall open all day for private prayer, and then at night, they held a worship service. After a day of labouring in the heat and humidity and under the oppression of their captors, they gathered in the dark to sing songs and pray.

People passing by heard the songs and came to sit in the darkness and listen to the words and the familiar tunes, many of them shedding tears hidden by the night. Someone would read the Bible or say a passage from memory, and the Captain would give a message of hope and salvation to those who gathered in the citadel, and to those who were nearby outside the building.

The Citadel band began with two members – Bandmaster Percy George of Godmanchester and Bandsman Arthur Neller of Deptford. They had been able to keep hold of their trumpets through their capture and imprisonment. When Neller died during captivity, George carried on alone.

The band brought people to listen to the songs and provided a source of normality for people far from home. Songster-Leader Norman Stevenson of Preston Central Corps formed a Male Voice Party that accompanied the worship and sang for the prisoners. Stevenson died the following year.

During this time, Oxenbridge was recognised by the Japanese as the leader of this prisoner’s church and was released from all ordinary prison work.

The prison guards understood that attendance at religious services helped keep the prisoners’ morale higher, which meant they lived longer and could work harder. Oxenbridge was given the freedom of the Changi camp, something almost no one else had.

In the military, he was a lance-corporal, but the Salvationist soldiers had made him their captain, and he acted as chaplain for the Salvationists and so many others. He led six weekly meetings, looked after the Citadel building, ensured it was kept usable, took care of the little garden, and visited the hospital, which housed 3000 patients.

His careful pastoral attention, passionate preaching, and steadfast commitment to the Gospel in the middle of horror inspired the other prisoners.

During 1942-1943, three meetings were held each Sunday in the camp. A soldier’s meeting was held on Tuesdays, a Bible study on Wednesdays, a Holiness meeting on Thursdays, and a prayer meeting on Saturdays. Twice a week, the Male Voice Party practised together.

They even maintained the annual Self-Denial campaign amongst the prisoners, taking in donations of food and clothes, as well as IOUs for money to be paid when they went back to the world. They observed Mother’s Day and Harvest and held a Memorial Service on the anniversary of the day when Singapore Fell.

Classes were run for four probationary candidates who were in the prison camp to help them in their journey to training college. Three of them were Australian. Cartridges (donations) were fired by the soldiers to provide the Captain with writing material.

Don’t forget the War Cry!

A corps needs the War Cry, but to avoid infringing the copyright of the official paper, they named their camp paper The Liberator! There is something special about prisoners of war worrying about infringing the copyright of the War Cry. Only four typed copies were made available for circulation, and the only numbered edition was published in April 1943.

This in itself is something of a miracle given the context in which they were working! Articles included a poem titled ‘For Honour and For Her,’ ‘The Progress of The Salvation Army,’ by Bandsman Frank Button of Peterborough (My great-uncle, it turns out!), and ‘Prayers for Deliverance.’

Other articles were written by Brother L. Morris, Bandsman Jack Dale of Walton, and Bandsman Stanley Gooch of Southampton, who died in Burma. The paper was edited by Bandsman C. J. Emms of Norwich Citadel, who would die in Thailand.

Changi is Broken Up

In 1943, the camp in Changi was broken up, and the prisoners dispersed across Thailand and Burma. One group were force-marched 200 miles through the jungle, often having to cut their own path, then had to make their own clearing from the jungle and build their own camp.

From 6am to 2am they worked. They had almost nothing to wear and very little to eat. They all became ill during this time. Fourteen months later, the survivors were marched back to Singapore and housed in Changi Convict Prison. 12,000 men were housed in a prison designed for 600.

Back to Changi they Go

Oxenbridge was still recognised as the Corps Officer of Changi Citadel, and he and his soldiers secured an old marquee in the woodyard of the prison to hold their meetings. They made a mercy seat out of an old table, and they kept a seeker’s register so they could do follow-up visits with potential converts.

The pastoral care of the prisoners was important, but so was their salvation. Oxenbridge was not allowed to move around as freely in the prison as he was in the camp, and he frequently suffered from Malaria.

On Christmas Eve, 1944, forty-nine members of the Male Voice Party, under the leadership of W. R. Cutmore of Birmingham Temple corps, sang carols to the prison. Bandsman Cutmore wrote:

We got up at about six in the morning, devoured our half pint of ‘pap,’ made of rice, then at half-past seven paraded for work, arriving at the air strip we were building for the Japanese about an hour later. We worked all day on railway skips, or digging out roots of trees, or one sometimes had the job of making tea; but through all the noise the Japanese made in forcing us to work, one could hear fellows singing or whistling Christmas carols. When work was done we trudged home, weary, but in high spirits; at night we would have a Christmas service at our little Salvation Army Hall. One forgot all the worry of the day and entered right into the spirit of the gathering.

Siblings in Christ in Different Uniforms

Bandsman Cutmore heard a Japanese guard singing a well-known religious tune. Cutmore asked the guard if he was a Christian. The guard, who spoke pretty good English, said yes, and then said that he played in a band. The guard took out a picture of himself in a Salvation Army uniform.

They weren’t allowed to speak to each other again after that, but Cutmore was affected by the impact of learning that one of his guards was a fellow Salvationist. The guard and the prisoner were brothers in Christ. It was the tragedy of war. That people who were united in Christ, who were brothers, were on the opposite sides.

War turned brothers against each other, but there in that moment, in the middle of one of the most horrible places in the world, there was a moment of union between those two people. Divided by one uniform but united by another.

The Salvation Army is Marching Along

Changi Citadel kept its soldier’s roll up to date throughout its existence. It contained ninety-two names of Salvationists from Britain, Australia, Batavia, and the Netherlands. It included soldiers and bandsmen and songsters and candidates and Officers, including four Dutch Officers who led meetings twice a week despite their poor English.

Thirteen names were listed as being promoted to glory, including Captain Sprokerief of Java Corps. They died from overwork, being underfed, and being force-marched along the jungle roads. Of course, they did not just die, they were promoted to glory.

The Army flag still flew, remaining unconquered, and the victory of those soldiers was secure. They were free, even in captivity. Seventeen names were listed as ‘friends’ of the corps from other denominations who regularly supported the activities of the corps.

Oxenbridge, a Lance-Corporal in the Royal Army Service Corps, survived the war and entered the training college, becoming a Captain and corps officer. He wrote about the Changi Citadel: My boys, my soldiers, were magnificent Salvationists, and deserve the highest praise.

During the existence of Changi Citadel, forty-four men knelt at the mercy seat (twenty-two to consecrate their lives to the Lord, thirteen new converts, and nine backsliders).

The influence of Oxenbridge meant that when Bandsman A. J. Ford was moved to a prison camp in Japan, despite being the only Salvationist in that camp, he conducted a Meeting every rest day for the prisoners. In that camp, he led people to the Lord and even took the opportunity to preach the Gospel to the guards in the broken Japanese he learned in prison.

In the pain and suffering of the prison camps, men of every stripe and colour, men rough and ready and men broken-hearted and men far away from God were brought to the Lord through song and prayer and the patient care of the Salvationists who made up Changi citadel.

They made true the promise that where a Salvationist is, there is The Salvation Army. This is perhaps something we have forgotten today.

So often, we are willing to give up our responsibilities to volunteers, to officers, and to local leaders. We forget that soldiership is a missional vocation to spread the Gospel to all the world.

The men in that camp could have given up their responsibilities, but instead, they stayed true to their Salvationism. In the immense and unimaginable hardship of those prison camps, people came to know Christ and died in the arms of Jesus because Salvationists remained true to their calling to live out the Gospel.

May we all live out that kind of Salvationism today, in honour of those who have gone before us and in faithfulness to the God who calls us, saves us, and sanctifies us.

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