THEIR gait may have been unsteady, but their memories were strong.

Mostly, those memories consist of torture, humiliation, and starvation. They include remembrances of months spent in the jungle before being betrayed to the Japanese by those they trusted. They recall being forced to stand in the sun for days for refusing to bow to their captors. They remember their comrades shot for attempting to escape while they were made to dig and fill in the graves.

They recall that their own lives were ruined because they were taken prisoner by the Japanese. They came back broken and many have not recovered.

Yesterday, as the Queen and Emperor Akihito rode down the Mall in the Irish State coach with all the pomp and ceremony that surrounds a State visit, there was no forgiveness in the hearts of those who survived the Japanese torture camps.

Nor was their any hint of apology from them for being disrespectful to the Queen by insulting her guest, Emperor Akihito, on whom a couple of hours later she bestowed the Order of the Garter, the United Kingdom's highest order of chivalry.

They burned the Japanese flag, thrust red gloves into the air - symbolising the ''bloody hand of the Japanese'' - and turned their back on the emperor and the Queen, as the coach, escorted by the Household Cavalry, made its way down the Mall.

It did not cut much ice with them that the emperor would later express his feelings of profound sadness at the suffering caused by the Second World War, nor that his empress in the carriage behind, accompanied by the Duke of Edinburgh, had previously expressed her great sorrow over the suffering of prisoners of war.

Nor were they mollified by statements calling for forgiveness coming from the Prime Minister. One banner carried by an octogenarian declared: ''Tony Blair, you weren't there.''

Some PoWs gave a version of the Churchillian two-fingered salute. Many more booed as the procession of eight carriages passed them by. If there were cheers, they were drowned out by the catcalls.

Mr Ian McIntyre, 73, originally from Leith and a one-time Argyll and Sutherland Highlander, was wearing the badge of the Burma Star Association.

Although racked in pain, he reckoned that making it to the Mall to register his protest was worthwhile. He was not keen to talk about the atrocities he had suffered or witnessed. Lecturer Patricia Thomas had seen his Glengarry from across the other side of the Mall and made her way to be next to a man who served in the same regiment as her father, Atholl Duncan, who died last year.

A cipher expert, he escaped within hours of the Japanese capture of Singapore with documents that would have been invaluable to the enemy.

He survived in the jungle for three months before he was betrayed and captured. His plan was to capture an aircraft with comrades and fly to Australia, but this was thwarted by the Dutch, who had disabled the planes.

On his repatriation, he dedicated himself to medicine because of what he witnessed in the torture camps, remembering how medics with no equipment had battled against the odds to save lives. He returned to his native St Andrews after the war to study medicine and became a highly respected GP in the Liverpool area.

Mrs Thomas, 49, joining those with their back to the emperor, led them in a poignant memorial once the carriages had passed: ''We will remember you. . .We will remember you. . .We will remember you.''

She sniffed away a tear and smiled and said to no one in particular: ''That was for you, Dad!''

The letter: wounds that will not heal

The following are extracts from the text of a letter from the Japanese Labour Camps Survivors Association (JLCSA) to the Japanese Emperor.

Your Majesty,

I am writing to you as chairman of the Japanese Labour Camps Survivors' Association to provide you with a direct explanation as to why members of my organisation felt it appropriate to turn their backs as you were driven along the Mall.

There are some 9000 members of the JLCSA, all of whom were prisoners of war of your country during the course of the Second World War.

The fact that so many of us, despite our ages, have travelled all the way to London to make this gesture today should give you some inkling as to the depth of feeling that exists about the failure of your government to atone for what was done to us during the war.

For three and a half years we went through treatment that words can hardly describe; treatment that was so barbaric it is difficult to understand the human psyche of the people who carried it out, ordered it or condoned it. Treatment that has not only left many of us physically scarred but treatment, the memory of which has been burned on to our very souls. There are people who have asked us why we do not put what happened behind us; why do we keep reopening the wounds. The answer is that for most of us for some 40 years we tried to do exactly that. When we returned to Britain, at the ending of the war, most of us tried to forget what had happened, we tried to live a normal life.

However, we found it impossible to shrug off the haunting memories of the nightmare that was our time in captivity. But those memories started to build up into a fierce, burning resentment as the years passed, and it became increasingly clear that Japan was neither prepared to accept what it had done was so wrong, nor was intending, in any real way, to atone for what it had done to us.

It has been this feeling of great injustice that has driven us to pursue a claim for compensation and a full apology from your government, and it is this sense of great injustice that has driven us on to the streets today.

I can assure you that my members have no personal gripe against you as an individual, however, as the Emperor of Japan you come to Britain representing the Japanese State and it is in that position that we are making it clear to your government that until they have fully atoned for what happened in the war, their Emperor cannot expect to be treated in this country with the respect to which you would normally be entitled.

On successive visits to your country over the last four or five years I have tried to gain access to your Ministers to try and impress upon them the importance of resolving the issue. On each occasion my request has been rebuffed.

We have therefore, been left with no alternative but to demonstrate to you, your government and your people that this is an issue that will remain an issue between us and you until your government has the decency to resolve it.

Yours sincerely,

Arthur Titherington.

The Speech: sore at heart

Extracts from the speech made by Emperor Akihito at a banquet at Buckingham Palace last night.

It truly saddens me that the relationship so nurtured between our two countries should have been marred by the Second World War.

The empress and I can never forget the many kinds of suffering so many people have undergone because of that war.

At the thought of the scars of war that they bear, our hearts are filled with deep sorrow and pain.

All through our visit here, this thought will never leave our minds.

We sincerely hope that such a history will never be repeated between our two nations.

At the same time, may we express our profound respect and gratitude to those people who, despite such past sufferings, looking towards the future, have dedicated immeasurable efforts to the cause of friendship between our two countries.

I personally first visited the United Kingdom in 1953. Although there was still considerable bitterness towards Japan here at that time, it was a very rewarding stay for me in the months leading up to the Coronation. I will never forget the great efforts made at that time by people seeking to improve and strengthen Japanese-British ties of friendship.

Modern Japan and Britain are co-operating closely for world peace and prosperity.

The scope of academic and cultural exchanges is steadily widening. Vast numbers of our people have opportunities to visit back and forth.

I sincerely hope that our two peoples can continue to strive for true mutual understanding and can join hands in the cause of world peace and prosperity.