In a Brisbane Courier Mail newspaper report in 1992  by Jason Gagliardi, there is a photo of Sydney Stocks and a woman whom he had "rescued from a  Japanese POW camp in Indonesia, July 1945".

The article reports that in July 1945 Stocks landed his Beaufort bomber next to a Japanese prison camp in Banjuwangi Indonesia and amid chaos and bullets rescued Nicoline Van Den Hurk,  he snatched  her up, together with maps  documents and photographs, and took her to Darwin.  The lady was sent back to Holland and the documents he gathered were found to be important to the war effort. For this escapade he was demoted and charged by the RAAF but subsequently awarded the Dutch War Commemorative Cross of Honour by Queen Beatrice of the Netherlands.

As a lead up to ANZAC Day, on 24 April 2004 Sydney Stocks gave an interview to Glenis Green of the Brisbane Courier Mail . It is a long interview that disclosed many more facets of Syd's "heroic" RAAF service. We have been unable to locate a copy of the actual newspaper report however we present a transcript of the report below.   

Flight to freedom

The exploits of Sydney Nelson Stocks , a distinguished bomber pilot and one of the few to escape from Changi, are a stirring story of courage and grit. Glenis Green reports

WHEN South Burnett war veteran  went into hospital for major intestinal surgery last month, the last thing his doctors expected to see on his X-rays was a bullet lodged near his spine.

Even as astounded medical staff at Kingaroy's community hospital looked at the amazing discovery on film, Stocks was being his usual chipper self.
After carrying the 307 snub-nosed bullet around for more than 60 years, the World War II Digger had almost forgotten about it -- except when it made his lower back ache if he ``mucked about'' too much.
Nestled next to his spine, the bullet had never been removed for fear of putting the 88-year-old in a wheelchair.
So Stocks learned to live with what he described as ``the wearying pains'' if he stood up for too long or did too much physical work.
Such silent stoicism is typical of Stocks, who was up and about just days after his surgery, living independently again in the Yarraman home he shares with Tommy the cat.
Watching Stocks as he bustles about in his old-fashioned kitchen making coffee and shuffling through scrapbooks decorated with his own artistic water colours, it is hard to reconcile the slightly built, softly spoken man with his rugged war hero reputation.
This, after all, is a man who not only risked his life a hundred times over to fly behind enemy lines performing daring rescues and bombing raids, but was also one of the few POWs to escape from Singapore's notorious Changi Prison.
He has so many medals it's hard to lift the jacket he wears to Anzac Day marches. They include his US Inter-national Cross of Honour, the Dutch Commemorative Medal of Honour, a Star of David presented by the Jewish community, an Order of Australia medal and a recent honour as an Honorary Knight of Malta.
But back to the bullet. For Stocks it's the lasting reminder of one of his regular 1942 sorties piloting a two-engine Wellington to bomb the Krupps Ammunition Factory at Hamburg.
``We blasted it night after night and their fighters were always chasing us,'' he says.``Well, this night we were coming back, outside Belgium, when the tail gunner said, `There's a bandit following', and we copped a blast.''
Stocks tried to out-manoeuvre the fighter, doing a quick inside turn (``the blokes were yelling a bit'') and the fighter made a pass and overshot before turning to close the distance between the two aircraft, approaching head-on.
``He was keeping his guns going -- he was within 400 yards -- and he peeled off.
``The last shot went through the fuselage, underneath Mitch (Gordon Symes, the front gunner), missed the centre post and hit me in the lower right torso.
``I told `Flaps' Crawford (the second pilot) `I've been hit, I think'. He took it (the plane) from me and I lay on the fuselage, all cramped up and half out of it until we got to the base at Silsden.''
When Stocks recovered from his wound, he realised the bullet was still in there when he felt a bump beneath his skin on his lower back.

While living with a bullet is just one of Stocks' amazing stories of survival, he's a reluctant hero, saying he's no different to any else who fought.

Stocks' story began when he joined up on January 6, 1940 aged 25 -- so old for a new recruit that he quickly earned the nickname ``Uncle''.
A FRENCH polisher by trade, he'd been a foreman in a furniture factory which was ordered into military production when the war began.
When first he went to enlist, he was knocked back, because his job was deemed a protected industry.
``So I waited for a few days, changed my name (calling himself Syd Nelson -- Nelson being his middle name) and enlisted in the RAAF.''
He was put straight on the SS Manundra sailing to England, ending up at Silsden, a medium bomber base near Leicestershire, where he was trained as a pilot and wireless air gunner. ``They (pilots) were always getting shot so they always needed more pilots,'' he says.
It was two years years later when Stocks was a member of four bombing squadrons sent to Siam (now Thailand) to head off the Japanese forces joining the war that the die was cast for his incarceration in Changi.
They had fought from Siam back to the causeway joining Malaya with Singapore when they were ambushed after the Japanese broke through an Indian battalion.
``The first thing they (the Japanese) did was go straight to the hospital and shoot every patient and medical orderly because they didn't want to look after injured people,'' Stocks says.
``Then they drove up and down and disabled the aircraft. I remember I was sitting with my CO on a kerb in Singapore in a monsoon with our feet in a drain, eating our last meat pie.
``He said, `What are you gonna do Stocksy?' and I said, `What can we do?'
``He said, `I appreciate what you've done, hopefully you'll get through this. It's every man for himself'.''
Stocks says there was nothing to do but wait to be picked up by Japanese troops and be thrown on a truck.
``Any sign of resistance and you were gone,'' he says.
Stocks and the rest of the captured Allied troops were taken to Seleta.
``We had to stand for 72 hours upright on a parade ground -- in the rain and the heat. The Japs made us stand in our faeces and urine -- blokes were collapsing everywhere. We lost 304 men. They were dropping at our feet.''
Those who survived were taken to Changi. There Stocks was put in charge of a small working team of army and air force men.
At one point he was interrogated and when he feigned ignorance was struck on the head with wooden bats, which permanently damaged his hearing.
That was in February, 1942. On April 11, the next year, he escaped.
His plan for freedom was hatched when a big stir went through the camp about the imminent arrival of Japanese General Shimperi, the overall head of prisoner of war camps at the time.
Prisoners were told they must be at a special parade for the general, and that they had better behave themselves.
Instead Stocks put himself on penalty duties for the big day, wearing his baggiest pair of shorts, worn-out sandshoes and no shirt and carrying two old potato bags which he used to put rubbish in as he traversed the perimeter of the prison.
Enduring the taunts, insults and kicks from guards, he eventually got to the main gates where a rubbish truck with an armed Japanese driver was waiting.
Because his captors refused to touch rubbish, Stocks was ordered into the truck so he could unload it at the dump. As the truck headed for the causeway, Stocks overpowered and ``dispatched'' the driver.
``I won't tell you what I did . . . I dug a hole and buried him just inside the entrance to the Kranji Cemetery, then I took the truck across the causeway to a small court outside the Temple of Johore where I knew the Sultan -- he had been a member of our Lodge.''
Stocks had become friends with a local magistrate, who put him in prison and told the Japanese who had come to take him away that he would have to remain in jail in Malaya for driving without a licence and stealing a vehicle.
HE WAS held in the Johore prison until he could be picked up by a fishing boat and taken out to sea.
``They covered me in coconut oil and dye and gave me an old straw hat so I looked like a fisherman,'' he says.
Eventually Stocks made it to Ambon and then Darwin.

As well as leaving behind so many mates in Changi (to whom he did not even reveal his escape plan in case they paid the price for their knowledge), one of Stocks' biggest regrets was saying goodbye to a loyal four-footed friend, ``Butch'', the fox terrier.

Wearing his own little parachute, Butch had been on every flying mission with Stocks, once even using that parachute to glide to safety when their aircraft was shot down. Despite the experience he lined up the next day for his usual seat on the plane -- never missing a beat.
So when Stocks was dragged off to Changi, Butch went too. But, sadly, he didn't see freedom again like his master.
Stocks finally found out during a 1992 reunion of POWS on the Gold Coast what had happened to his little dog.

Furious at Stocks' escape, one of the nastier Japanese sergeants killed the little dog, then cooked him and fed him to the unwitting prisoners.

Stocks still chuckles at the memory of the brave little dog, which incurred the CO's wrath after seizing the opportunity to mate with the CO's wife's pampered shi-tzu -- a tryst which produced a fine litter of pups, all looking just like Butch.
``He (Butch) was confined to barracks for a week for that,'' he said.
Stocks has a thousand more war stories -- and as a keen writer he has told some of them himself in many stories and books. He has written several novels, including Plenty Makes Me Poor, a story centred on his former home town of nearby Blackbutt, which is tipped to be made into a movie.
He's such a wealth of knowledge that archivists are gathering his recollections for an official history for the War Memorial in Canberra.
Living alone since his wife Val died in 1991 after 58 years of marriage, (they met when she was a concert pianist for the Queensland Symphony Orchestra and he played the violin), Stocks holds on fiercely to his independence.

Even while he was still doubled over from the aftermath of his recent surgery he managed to add a fresh shine to the French polished war memorial in the main street of Yarraman. And that's where he'll be marching again on Anzac Day this year -- exactly three weeks before his 89th birthday.  As an RSL life member, he'll again be the toast of a town which is more than proud to call him one of their own.

What was Sydney Stocks really doing during WW2