From 200 throats, the voice of outrage

THE BOOING started as the royal limo turned into The Mall at 12.46pm. The Queen, in glowing pink, waved graciously at the crowd. Beside her, Japan's Emperor Akihito looked for someone to wave at but found only a line of elderly servicemen and tight-faced widows, some wearing their husbands' campaign medals, swathed in white banners reading "Prisoner of Japan 1941-45". And from 200 throats came a raucous hooting whose message no amount of imperial spin-doctoring could misinterpret: the voice of outrage at the cruelties visited on British soldiers and civilians in Japanese PoW camps in the last war. As state visits go, it wasn't looking good.

As the second coach swept by, bearing the Duke of Edinburgh and the Empress Michiko, the boos redoubled. A cross-fire of hatred flew across the Mall. The Japanese looked rattled. Prince Charles, in an open carriage, leaned forward and tried to small-talk his Japanese co-riders through the turbulence. The diplomats looked round for hostile faces and found only a wall of backs. Were they watching some rival attraction in Green Park? No, they were showing contempt. They were mooning, fully clothed, at Hirohito's son.

The Union Flag was ostentatiously draped over the railings while Rising Sun flags were in short supply, although the Mall was crammed with Japanese Londoners, many apparently marshalled by the Japanese Chamber of Commerce and Industry.

Major Phil Daniel of the Royal Artillery sported the Burma Star in his cap but said he felt no hatred for the Japanese. "I'm sorry for those who were in prisoner of war camps, but what more apology can they want from the Emperor? To go down on his knees before the Queen?" Major Daniel is part of the Burma Reconciliation Group, who have campaigned for 20 years to smooth Anglo-Japanese relations.

It would cut no ice with Pieter Schoe, a Dutchman living in Wales, who was imprisoned, aged 16, when the Japanese invaded Java. "Every day there was hard labour, no food. We were beaten with sticks, bicycle chains, anything. My father was taken away in April 1941, to the oilfields of Sumatra. He died of starvation in June 1944. I read it on a noticeboard a year later. It's not the money that's needed, it's an apology."

The Association of British Civilian Internees, Far East Region take a different view. They claim the Government has failed to press for adequate compensation for its subjects - like Barbara Sowerby, who remembers the prison in Stanley, Hong Kong, where she went at five, to emerge five years later weighing two stone. Mrs Sowerby can still hear the sound of the Japanese guard's sword dragging along the path. "And when you heard it, you stayed lying on the ground until the sound had gone."

One of her brothers was bayonetted, another blown up. Mrs Sowerby and her husband aren't impressed with the apology so far tendered by the Japanese. "It's like saying sorry when you bump someone on the Tube. We should get proper compensation, because at least money is tangible."

It was 1.30 when the crowd left the Mall. In Buckingham Palace the Emperor was getting ready to receive the Order of the Garter, shortly after his lunch.