2(6)
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PART TWO Chapter 6 The work was well under way. The British soldier is by nature hard working and puts up with strict discipline without a murmur provided he has confidence in his officers and starts the day off with the prospect of unlimited physical exercise to counteract any nervous tension. The soldiers in the River Kwai camp had a high opinion of Colonel Nicholson—and who would not have after his heroic resistance? Besides, the sort of work they were doing did not involve much thought. So after a short period of indecision, during which they tried to get to the bottom of the C.O.'s real intentions, they had set to work with a will, eager to show their skill as builders now that they had proved their cunning as saboteurs. In any case Colonel Nicholson had taken steps to avoid any chance of misunderstanding, first by delivering an address in which he explained quite clearly what was expected of them, and secondly by inflicting severe punishments on a few recalcitrants who had not fully understood. This action had seemed so well intended that the victims did not hold it against him.
"Believe me, I know these fellows better than you do," was the Colonel's retort to Clipton, who had dared to protest against the set task, which he considered too heavy for men who were undernourished and in a poor state of health. "It's taken me thirty years to get to know them. Nothing's worse for morale than inactivity, and their physical welfare depends largely on their morale. Troops who are bored, Clipton, are troops doomed in advance to defeat. Let them get slack and you'll see an unhealthy spirit developing in the unit. But fill every minute of their day with hard work, and cheerfulness and health are guaranteed." "Be happy in your work!" murmured Clipton disloyally. "That was General Yamashita's motto." "And it's not such a bad one, Clipton. We shouldn't hesitate to adopt a principle of the enemy's if it happens to be a good one. If there wasn't any work for them to do, I'd invent some for them. As it is, we've got the bridge." Clipton could find no words to express what he felt and could only sullenly repeat: "Yes, we've got the bridge all right." In any case the British soldiers had already revolted on their own against an attitude and code of behaviour which clashed with their instinctive urge to do a job properly. Even
before the Colonel intervened, subversive activity had become for most of them a distasteful duty, and some of them had not waited for his orders before using their muscles and tools to proper purpose. It was their natural reaction, as Westerners, to make a loyal and considerable effort in return for their daily bread, and their Anglo-Saxon blood encouraged them to concentrate this effort on something solid and constructive. The Colonel had not been wrong about them. His new regime led to a rise in morale. Since the Japanese soldier is equally well disciplined and hard working, and since Saito had threatened to string his men up if they failed to prove themselves better workers than the British, the two stretches of line had been quickly completed, while the huts for the new camp had been erected and made habitable. At about the same time Reeves had put the finishing touches to his plans and passed them to Major Hughes, who was thus drawn into the scheme and given a chance to show what he was worth. Thanks to his organizing ability, his knowledge of the troops and his experience of how man-power can be most effectively employed, the labour under his direction achieved tangible results from the very start. The first thing Hughes did was to divide the personnel into different groups and allot a specific task to each, so that while one was occupied on cutting down trees, another would be trimming the trunks, a third making the beams,
while the largest of all was engaged on pile-driving, and many more besides were employed on the superstructure and platform. Some of the teams—not the least important ones, in Hughes' opinion—were made up of various experts in such tasks as the erection of the scaffolding, the transport of the materials and the maintenance of the tools: tasks of secondary importance to the actual construction work, but to which Western foresight devotes—and not without reason—as much care as to the immediately productive work. This division of labour was a wise move and proved most effective, as it always does when not carried to extremes. As soon as a stack of planks was ready, and the first scaffoldings were in position, Hughes set his team of piledrivers to work. Theirs was an arduous task, the hardest and most thankless of the whole undertaking. In the absence of all mechanical labour, these new bridge-builders were reduced to using the same methods as the Japanese, that is to say they were obliged to drop a heavy weight on to the head of each pile and repeat this operation until it was firmly embedded in the river. The "ram", which dropped from a height of eight or ten feet, had to be re-hoisted each time by a system of ropes and pulleys, then allowed to fall once more over and over again. At each blow the pile would sink an infinitesimal fraction of an inch, for the ground was as hard as rock. It was unrewarding, soul-destroying work. There was no visible sign of progress from one minute to
the next, and the sight of a group of more or less naked men tugging at a rope reminded one gloomily of a slavegang. Hughes had put one of the best subalterns in command of this team— Harper, a man with plenty of drive, who urged the prisoners on better than anyone else by shouting out the time in a booming voice. Thanks to his encouragement, this punishing task was accomplished with zeal and cheerfulness. Under the astonished eyes of the Japanese the four parallel rows gradually crept forward across the water towards the left bank. At one moment Clipton had almost expected the embedding of the first pile to be celebrated by some solemn ritual, but there had only been a few simple formalities. Colonel Nicholson had confined himself to seizing the rope of the ram and tugging manfully, to set an example, for as long as it took to come down a dozen times. Once the pile-drivers were well under way, Hughes launched the teams engaged on the superstructure. They in their turn were followed by others employed on laying down the platform with its broad tracks and parapets. The various activities had been so well co-ordinated that from then on work went forward with mathematical regularity. An observer, blind to elementary detail but keen on general principles, might have regarded the development of the bridge as an uninterrupted process of natural growth. That
was certainly the impression that Colonel Nicholson had of it. With a satisfied eye he witnessed this gradual materialization, without connecting it in any way with humble human activity. Consequently he saw it only as something abstract and complete in itself: a living symbol of the fierce struggles and countless experiments by which a nation gradually raises itself in the course of centuries to a state of civilization. It was in much the same light that the bridge sometimes appeared also to Reeves. He gazed at it in wonder as it simultaneously rose above the water and stretched across the river, reaching its maximum width almost at once, majestically registering in all three dimensions the palpable shape of creation at the foot of these wild Siamese mountains, representing in miraculously concrete form the wealth of fruitful imagination and labour. Saito too was overwhelmed by the magic of this daily prodigy. In spite of all his efforts, he could not altogether conceal his astonishment and admiration. His surprise was only to be expected. Since he had not fully understood, and had certainly never analysed, the subtler aspects of Western civilization—as Colonel Nicholson so rightly observed—he could not realize to what extent method, organization, calculation, theoretical planning and expert coordination of human activities facilitate and eventually accelerate any practical undertaking. The purpose and
usefulness of this sort of intellectual groundwork will always be beyond the comprehension of savages. As for Clipton, he was definitely convinced of his initial stupidity and humbly recognized the folly of the sarcastic attitude he had shown towards the application of modern industrial methods to the construction of the River Kwai bridge. He inwardly apologized for this, showing a characteristic sense of fair-mindedness mingled with remorse for having been so short-sighted. He was forced to admit that the methods of the Western world had in this case led to positive results. Starting from this premise, he pursued the argument a stage further and came to the conclusion that such "methods" are invariably effective and invariably produce "results". Those who set themselves up as critics of these methods never give them a fair trial. He himself, like so many others, had given way to the temptation of a cheap sneer. The bridge, growing daily larger and more beautiful, soon reached the middle of the river, then went past it. At this stage it became quite obvious to everyone that it would be finished before the date laid down by the Japanese High Command and would cause no delay to the triumphant advance of the victorious army.
"Believe me, I know these fellows better than you do," was the Colonel's retort to Clipton, who had dared to protest against the set task, which he considered too heavy for men who were undernourished and in a poor state of health. "It's taken me thirty years to get to know them. Nothing's worse for morale than inactivity, and their physical welfare depends largely on their morale. Troops who are bored, Clipton, are troops doomed in advance to defeat. Let them get slack and you'll see an unhealthy spirit developing in the unit. But fill every minute of their day with hard work, and cheerfulness and health are guaranteed." "Be happy in your work!" murmured Clipton disloyally. "That was General Yamashita's motto." "And it's not such a bad one, Clipton. We shouldn't hesitate to adopt a principle of the enemy's if it happens to be a good one. If there wasn't any work for them to do, I'd invent some for them. As it is, we've got the bridge." Clipton could find no words to express what he felt and could only sullenly repeat: "Yes, we've got the bridge all right." In any case the British soldiers had already revolted on their own against an attitude and code of behaviour which clashed with their instinctive urge to do a job properly. Even
before the Colonel intervened, subversive activity had become for most of them a distasteful duty, and some of them had not waited for his orders before using their muscles and tools to proper purpose. It was their natural reaction, as Westerners, to make a loyal and considerable effort in return for their daily bread, and their Anglo-Saxon blood encouraged them to concentrate this effort on something solid and constructive. The Colonel had not been wrong about them. His new regime led to a rise in morale. Since the Japanese soldier is equally well disciplined and hard working, and since Saito had threatened to string his men up if they failed to prove themselves better workers than the British, the two stretches of line had been quickly completed, while the huts for the new camp had been erected and made habitable. At about the same time Reeves had put the finishing touches to his plans and passed them to Major Hughes, who was thus drawn into the scheme and given a chance to show what he was worth. Thanks to his organizing ability, his knowledge of the troops and his experience of how man-power can be most effectively employed, the labour under his direction achieved tangible results from the very start. The first thing Hughes did was to divide the personnel into different groups and allot a specific task to each, so that while one was occupied on cutting down trees, another would be trimming the trunks, a third making the beams,
while the largest of all was engaged on pile-driving, and many more besides were employed on the superstructure and platform. Some of the teams—not the least important ones, in Hughes' opinion—were made up of various experts in such tasks as the erection of the scaffolding, the transport of the materials and the maintenance of the tools: tasks of secondary importance to the actual construction work, but to which Western foresight devotes—and not without reason—as much care as to the immediately productive work. This division of labour was a wise move and proved most effective, as it always does when not carried to extremes. As soon as a stack of planks was ready, and the first scaffoldings were in position, Hughes set his team of piledrivers to work. Theirs was an arduous task, the hardest and most thankless of the whole undertaking. In the absence of all mechanical labour, these new bridge-builders were reduced to using the same methods as the Japanese, that is to say they were obliged to drop a heavy weight on to the head of each pile and repeat this operation until it was firmly embedded in the river. The "ram", which dropped from a height of eight or ten feet, had to be re-hoisted each time by a system of ropes and pulleys, then allowed to fall once more over and over again. At each blow the pile would sink an infinitesimal fraction of an inch, for the ground was as hard as rock. It was unrewarding, soul-destroying work. There was no visible sign of progress from one minute to
the next, and the sight of a group of more or less naked men tugging at a rope reminded one gloomily of a slavegang. Hughes had put one of the best subalterns in command of this team— Harper, a man with plenty of drive, who urged the prisoners on better than anyone else by shouting out the time in a booming voice. Thanks to his encouragement, this punishing task was accomplished with zeal and cheerfulness. Under the astonished eyes of the Japanese the four parallel rows gradually crept forward across the water towards the left bank. At one moment Clipton had almost expected the embedding of the first pile to be celebrated by some solemn ritual, but there had only been a few simple formalities. Colonel Nicholson had confined himself to seizing the rope of the ram and tugging manfully, to set an example, for as long as it took to come down a dozen times. Once the pile-drivers were well under way, Hughes launched the teams engaged on the superstructure. They in their turn were followed by others employed on laying down the platform with its broad tracks and parapets. The various activities had been so well co-ordinated that from then on work went forward with mathematical regularity. An observer, blind to elementary detail but keen on general principles, might have regarded the development of the bridge as an uninterrupted process of natural growth. That
was certainly the impression that Colonel Nicholson had of it. With a satisfied eye he witnessed this gradual materialization, without connecting it in any way with humble human activity. Consequently he saw it only as something abstract and complete in itself: a living symbol of the fierce struggles and countless experiments by which a nation gradually raises itself in the course of centuries to a state of civilization. It was in much the same light that the bridge sometimes appeared also to Reeves. He gazed at it in wonder as it simultaneously rose above the water and stretched across the river, reaching its maximum width almost at once, majestically registering in all three dimensions the palpable shape of creation at the foot of these wild Siamese mountains, representing in miraculously concrete form the wealth of fruitful imagination and labour. Saito too was overwhelmed by the magic of this daily prodigy. In spite of all his efforts, he could not altogether conceal his astonishment and admiration. His surprise was only to be expected. Since he had not fully understood, and had certainly never analysed, the subtler aspects of Western civilization—as Colonel Nicholson so rightly observed—he could not realize to what extent method, organization, calculation, theoretical planning and expert coordination of human activities facilitate and eventually accelerate any practical undertaking. The purpose and
usefulness of this sort of intellectual groundwork will always be beyond the comprehension of savages. As for Clipton, he was definitely convinced of his initial stupidity and humbly recognized the folly of the sarcastic attitude he had shown towards the application of modern industrial methods to the construction of the River Kwai bridge. He inwardly apologized for this, showing a characteristic sense of fair-mindedness mingled with remorse for having been so short-sighted. He was forced to admit that the methods of the Western world had in this case led to positive results. Starting from this premise, he pursued the argument a stage further and came to the conclusion that such "methods" are invariably effective and invariably produce "results". Those who set themselves up as critics of these methods never give them a fair trial. He himself, like so many others, had given way to the temptation of a cheap sneer. The bridge, growing daily larger and more beautiful, soon reached the middle of the river, then went past it. At this stage it became quite obvious to everyone that it would be finished before the date laid down by the Japanese High Command and would cause no delay to the triumphant advance of the victorious army.
