In February 1942, the evacuation vessel Vyner Brooke was sunk off Sumatra’s coast, leading survivors—including 53 Australian army nursing sisters—to wash ashore on Bangka Island after fleeing Singapore just before its fall to Japanese forces. Tragically, two days later, 21 of these nurses were machine-gunned by Japanese soldiers at Radji Beach. Sister Vivian Bullwinkel, the sole survivor of the massacre, managed to avoid immediate death despite sustaining a minor injury. Feigning dead, she waited in the water until it was safe to escape to the jungle, where she cared for a severely injured British soldier until they chose to surrender to avoid starvation. Although Vivian survived, the traumatic events she witnessed left her as the only living person with firsthand knowledge of the massacre.
Vivian Bullwinkel’s account of the fateful day has been treated with skepticism over the years, especially after comments made by Japanese historian Yuki Tanaka at the 1946 International Military Tribunal, suggesting that Bullwinkel may have fabricated parts of her narrative to shield her deceased colleagues from the stigma of rape. This cloud of doubt persisted for decades, but recent investigative efforts have unearthed evidence confirming the brutality that unfolded on the beach. In 2019, journalist Barbara Angell and colleague Tess Lawrence, having received information from Vivian herself, brought to light that the nurses had endured rapes before their execution, transforming the understanding of the infamous event from a supposed noble sacrifice to a nightmare.
Reports surfaced in the media detailing this new information, igniting debate over the authenticity of Bullwinkel’s experiences. Despite some rejection, others stepped forward, including an ex-Department of Veterans’ Affairs employee who revealed the sensitive nature of Bullwinkel’s accounts—implying an intentional suppression of her truth. Additionally, a female officer recalled that Vivian had shared her anguish about being restrained from telling the complete story, emphasizing that the nurses had not merely “marched into the sea” but had faced horrific realities of violence and torture before their deaths.
The reasons for this suppression were rooted in a military culture unwilling to confront the ugly truths of war, exemplified by a 1945 directive from Lord Mountbatten’s Southeast Asia command that mandated military clearance for any statements made by returning prisoners. Under duress, Vivian signed a statement that reflected a sanitized version of events—an attempt to shield the public from the more brutal aspects of the nurses’ experiences. Continued investigations eventually uncovered war crimes investigator Francis Hughes’ statements, which revealed that the Australian military sought to maintain silence on the details of the nurses’ ordeal to prevent further trauma to their families and the nation.
Despite Hughes’ statements remaining concealed for decades, they corroborated Vivian’s assertions regarding the rampant sexual violence committed against the nurses. He conveyed that the conditions faced by them were harrowing and that some had been coerced into acting as comfort women. This revelation marked a turning point in acknowledging the full extent of their suffering and the ongoing silence that enveloped it, a silence perpetuated by both personal and systemic forces.
The story of Sister Bullwinkel is emblematic of how historical narratives have often ignored or sanitized the harsh realities of war, especially regarding women’s experiences. Lynette Ramsay Silver’s new book, “Sister Bullwinkel: The untold, uncensored story,” seeks to confront these uncomfortable truths and restore Vivian’s voice, honoring her requests for transparency. The book emphasizes the importance of uncovering hidden atrocities, arguing that families of the nurses deserve to know the complete truth—a truth that not only reflects their experiences but also serves as a stark reminder against the erasure of history motivated by comfort and denial.
