Harmless-looking 'vegetable seller' who was really a spy for the Allies
By David Miller
TO THE Japanese sentries guarding the sensitive headquarters of the Indian National Army (INA) at Upper Serangoon Road, 22-year-old Halford Boudewyn was a harmless vegetable seller -- and a welcome sight for hungry soldiers.
But for Mr Boudewyn, now 71, selling vegetables was merely a cover. He was in fact a member of an Allied spy ring which smuggled stolen documents of the Japanese plans for the invasion of India.
These highly-classified documents, which were stolen by a contact who worked at the army headquarters, contained detailed information on troop concentrations, heavy artillery weapons, communication and logistical support for the Japanese push westward into India through the town of Imphal, located at the Burmese-Indian border.
Recalled Mr Boudewyn, a retired police officer, in an interview with The Straits Times at his home in Toa Payoh:
"I knew that I could be killed. But I tried not to think about what could happen and just concentrated on what I was doing.
"My job was to smuggle these documents out of the camp and keep them safely until after the war when they were to be used for subsequent war trials."
Although he kept the documents, their vital information were believed to have been sent to the Pacific Allied command through a separate spy channel.
The Imphal campaign was critical to the Japanese who wanted to extend their power westward beyond the Burmese border to India - the jewel in the crown of the British empire.
The four-month invasion began in March 1944 and resulted in the defeat of the Japanese army which was forced to withdraw beyond the Burmese border.
About 12,600 British and Indian Army soldiers were killed or wounded in the battle. About 30,000 Japanese soldiers died and 25,000 more were injured.
The actual workings of this Allied spy ring remained obscure, even after all these years, said Mr Boudewyn.
Like most clandestine organisations, its agents were briefed strictly on a need-to-know basis.
In that way, if one person was arrested by the enemy, he would not be able, even under torture, to expose the whole organisation, he said.
His role as a spy started after he was first approached by an Indian Army officer, Major Aubrey Wyman - himself a Prisoner of War (PoW) - in 1943.
Major Wyman, an Indian, had fought for the British and, like most of the Indian soldiers who refused to join the INA, was interned in a POW camp located next to the INA headquarters.
The INA was made up of Indian Army PoWs who had agreed to fight alongside the Japanese in freeing India from British control.
The organisation was led by Indian Nationalist leader Subhas Chandra Bose who, in 1943, proclaimed himself the head of the Provisional Government of India which was promptly recognised by the Japanese.
In recounting his double role as vegetable seller and spy, Mr Boudewyn, now a grandfather of seven, said:
"Entering the INA headquarters, I would start selling vegetables to the soldiers.
"When it was safe, my contact would pass me the stolen documents wrapped in newspaper which I hid in my bicycle carrier.
"Leaving the camp with these documents was always dangerous. I would park my bicycle by the sentry's shed and give him a very low bow which pleased him immensely.
"After a cursory frisk, I was allowed to leave. I guess the thought of checking my bicycle never occurred to them.
"It seems that if one behaved subserviently towards the sentries, you could get away with quite a lot!"
He said he kept up his activities for almost a year until some time in 1944 when he received the last of the documents.
He hid all the documents he had smuggled in an empty oil drum which he buried in the tennis court of a friend's house in Chancery Hill.
Later, he transferred the drum to his brother's home in St Barnabas Road, off Upper Serangoon Road, where it remained until after the war.
He said that he was never told how his contact, whom he still refuses to name, was able to steal the documents, but surprisingly there were no Japanese reprisals.
Shortly after the war, he met Major Wyman and handed over the stolen documents he had been keeping.
These were taken back to India where an inquiry was held into the conduct of some high-ranking INA officers.
"I was given to understand that the inquiry fell through. Your guess is as good as mine as to what happened. I was disappointed to say the least," he said.
As a result of his undercover work, he received one letter from a colonel with the British intelligence commending him for his good work.
In 1948, he was awarded the Colonial Police Medal (Silver) by the Governor of Singapore, Franklin Gimson, for his efforts.
His outward calm during the interview belied the nature of his role, about which he said he still has nightmares.
He said: "Once every three to six months, I would have frightening dreams and wake up in cold sweat.
"So I got rid of most of the reminders I had kept of the war except my medal and a photograph."
First published in The Straits Times, 13 March 1992
By David Miller
TO THE Japanese sentries guarding the sensitive headquarters of the Indian National Army (INA) at Upper Serangoon Road, 22-year-old Halford Boudewyn was a harmless vegetable seller -- and a welcome sight for hungry soldiers.
But for Mr Boudewyn, now 71, selling vegetables was merely a cover. He was in fact a member of an Allied spy ring which smuggled stolen documents of the Japanese plans for the invasion of India.These highly-classified documents, which were stolen by a contact who worked at the army headquarters, contained detailed information on troop concentrations, heavy artillery weapons, communication and logistical support for the Japanese push westward into India through the town of Imphal, located at the Burmese-Indian border.
Recalled Mr Boudewyn, a retired police officer, in an interview with The Straits Times at his home in Toa Payoh:
"I knew that I could be killed. But I tried not to think about what could happen and just concentrated on what I was doing.
"My job was to smuggle these documents out of the camp and keep them safely until after the war when they were to be used for subsequent war trials."
Although he kept the documents, their vital information were believed to have been sent to the Pacific Allied command through a separate spy channel.
The Imphal campaign was critical to the Japanese who wanted to extend their power westward beyond the Burmese border to India - the jewel in the crown of the British empire.
About 12,600 British and Indian Army soldiers were killed or wounded in the battle. About 30,000 Japanese soldiers died and 25,000 more were injured.
The actual workings of this Allied spy ring remained obscure, even after all these years, said Mr Boudewyn.
Like most clandestine organisations, its agents were briefed strictly on a need-to-know basis.
In that way, if one person was arrested by the enemy, he would not be able, even under torture, to expose the whole organisation, he said.
His role as a spy started after he was first approached by an Indian Army officer, Major Aubrey Wyman - himself a Prisoner of War (PoW) - in 1943.
The INA was made up of Indian Army PoWs who had agreed to fight alongside the Japanese in freeing India from British control.
The organisation was led by Indian Nationalist leader Subhas Chandra Bose who, in 1943, proclaimed himself the head of the Provisional Government of India which was promptly recognised by the Japanese.
"Entering the INA headquarters, I would start selling vegetables to the soldiers.
"When it was safe, my contact would pass me the stolen documents wrapped in newspaper which I hid in my bicycle carrier.
"Leaving the camp with these documents was always dangerous. I would park my bicycle by the sentry's shed and give him a very low bow which pleased him immensely.
"After a cursory frisk, I was allowed to leave. I guess the thought of checking my bicycle never occurred to them.
"It seems that if one behaved subserviently towards the sentries, you could get away with quite a lot!"
He said he kept up his activities for almost a year until some time in 1944 when he received the last of the documents.
He hid all the documents he had smuggled in an empty oil drum which he buried in the tennis court of a friend's house in Chancery Hill.
Later, he transferred the drum to his brother's home in St Barnabas Road, off Upper Serangoon Road, where it remained until after the war.
He said that he was never told how his contact, whom he still refuses to name, was able to steal the documents, but surprisingly there were no Japanese reprisals.
Shortly after the war, he met Major Wyman and handed over the stolen documents he had been keeping.
These were taken back to India where an inquiry was held into the conduct of some high-ranking INA officers.
"I was given to understand that the inquiry fell through. Your guess is as good as mine as to what happened. I was disappointed to say the least," he said.
As a result of his undercover work, he received one letter from a colonel with the British intelligence commending him for his good work.
His outward calm during the interview belied the nature of his role, about which he said he still has nightmares.
He said: "Once every three to six months, I would have frightening dreams and wake up in cold sweat.
"So I got rid of most of the reminders I had kept of the war except my medal and a photograph."
First published in The Straits Times, 13 March 1992
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