23 Dec 1941, Harry Ching's wartime diary

A dud shell which had hit a house in King Kwong Street behind us, lay yesterday in the gutter there. This morning it had been moved to the gutter at our own back door. We took an indignant view. A coolie wandered along and looked at it. We asked him to take it away, and he demanded forty cents which we paid. Later in the day the shell was back at the door of our next neighbour. The same coolie wandered along and looked at it. We decided to ignore it and him.

For several days we had with binoculars been watching a sentry near Warren's Castle on Broadwood Ridge across the Valley ((Happy Valley)). He was usually an Indian, and always reassuringly he was looking intently towards the hills. This morning he was looking the other way and he wore a conical steel helmet; he was a Japanese.

The impending conquerors sent aloft in Kowloon a huge captive balloon, drab green, with wide streamers hanging from it. These bore big Chinese characters in red, exhorting the Chinese on the Island to rise against the British. The Japanese propaganda was always naive.

Later in the forenoon a new clatter in Village Road drew us to the front verandah - troops who had climbed down from Wongneichong Gap through Fung Fai Terrace opposite us; they hugged the retaining wall of the terrace and disappeared up town. In the afternoon, a silent file of soldiers walked slowly down Shan Kwong Road behind us - some wounded, with white flesh showing through torn uniforms, one with a boot gone and a bloodily bandaged foot. Dejected, they symbolised all the frustration and tragedy of our useless little war.

The water supply failed. To complete the severance a shell has hit the meter on the pavement at our front entrance.

At dusk suddenly a fireworks show. The enemy just above the Jockey Club stables at the top of Shan Kwong Road, firing a machine gun with tracer bullets down that road into the racecourse, past our back door. The mountain guns went past again, leaving us, and disappearing towards Central.