On my first visit to Singapore, I had an appointment with Anna Li, a young woman who designed and manufactured exquisite silk fabrics. We discussed my selling her products in the United States. Nothing came of this.

After lunching at Raffles, she asked if I'd like to take a tour of Singapore. Charmed by her company and delighted by her sport car, I readily agreed.

We drove up the west side of the island; and, at the north end, crossed the causeway to the Malaysian Sultanate of Jahore. Returning to Singapore, we proceeded down the east side.

Abruptly she parked her car across the street from a handsome mansion with the South China Sea as its background.

"This is where I was raised," she said.

Anna was crying when she pointed to her right. "See this large, empty property with the embankment at the back?"

Yes, of course I saw it.

"When the Japanese captured Singapore, they rounded-up young boys they felt might become troublemakers."

I nodded.

She continued. "The Japanese brought twenty of these boys to this property, lined them up against the embankment, and, one by one, they were shot."

Tears now streaming down her cheeks, she said, "My brother was one of those boys. He was sixteen. His last view of life was looking across the street to his home. We moved as soon as we could."