Repatriation ((This is the last entry in Norah’s diary.))
Repatriation was not comfortable. First, we were taken from the camp in rowboats to a much larger launch; we had to climb up into it by nets. Then we were taken to Hong Kong harbour to embark into the Empress of Australia. I think the really sick - Mr. Davidson was one - were taken on board the Mount Maunganui. We were allocated a deep cabin for 12, with 3-tier bunks, and set off for Manila where we embarked hundreds of soldiers and waited. Owing to the combination of the heat, the crowding and the lack of ventilation and fresh air, Christopher developed asthma. His relief with drugs was magical. They introduced us to food very slowly. Dehydrated vegetables in tiny portions, a cup of cocoa after many days.
Manila was full of wrecked ships, we actually tied up alongside a sunken Japanese hulk. Then we went on to Singapore where Lady Mountbatten welcomed us, but we were not anywhere allowed off the ship. There was a group of Commandos on the wharf as we were casting off who had tried to get on board and been refused. As the last ropes had been let go, they jumped into the water, caught the ropes and climbed up. And of course it was too much bother for the ship to be stopped, so they came with us. We got off to band music in Ceylon and were royally entertained by the local women.
Then at Suez we were shepherded off for clothing, thanks mainly to the Red Cross. Each was given a suitcase and a list, even Christopher. Then we went through huge hangars fitted up like small shops and chose everything from our lists, warm winter coats, skirt, blouses, shoes, underclothing, stockings and each time our list was ticked by a uniformed girl. No money, of course. Christopher even got two toys. Then we went on to Liverpool where again we were met by a band. ((The date was 26th October 1945 – a long 45 days since we set off from Hong Kong.))
((Later Norah would tell people of an event on the Atlantic Ocean final leg of our trip which must have left quite an impression on her. We had been allowed on deck and, while she was briefly distracted by something, I disappeared. After an increasingly frantic search of the decks she saw me standing alone at the stern of the ship, mesmerised by the patterns of the wake as it spread behind us. As she saw it there was only a chain preventing me from joining that wake. She suppressed the instinct to scream a warning which would have had unpredictable consequences, and instead walked along the deck calling me away from the danger zone which she had no desire to approach. As a curious four year old in exciting new surroundings, I couldn’t see what the fuss was about.))
England did NOT look marvellous, only grey and colourless after the East. Here we met with officialdom: forms, tickets, money, and parcels of food from the Salvation Army.
Postcard from Doug Johnston, Quebec, Canada, 25 November 1945
Dear Norah,
I hope by now you and Christopher are enjoying life again in the manner to which you are entitled and accustomed…
I was worried about you both when I said good-bye on that hell-ship, the Empress of Australia – three days of it had been bad enough – what would a whole month be like? We had a very nice trip home from Manila, in great comfort all the way, the Americans being most kind to us and the Canadians even kinder. From Manila it took us just 23 days to get to Quebec, which we reached on Oct.11th (blessed day). I’m still in the Army, on extended sick leave (but not sick as I weigh 150 lbs now – from 118 on the Express) and will start to practice law again next May. Hoping to see you in Quebec some time soon. Grant sends his love to Christopher.
Father Xmas came to us - comfort parcels. We girls each received one, full of the most lovely things: knitting wool & needles &pattern; S.T.s; writing pad & envelopes; Johnsons baby powder, cold cream, box with darning wool, cotton, safety pins, deodorant, adhesive plaster, lipstick, face flannel,comb, real toilet paper, hairnet, hairbrush, soap, mirror, face towel, toothpaste and brush; hair brush; sunglasses, pencil, bandage, tape, thimble - all really thrilling. ((None of those items had been supplied to us in Stanley!)) Also an envelope with a lucky number we were supposed to keep - competition to expire 28th February 1943!
A Miss Archangelsky is working with us at present. ((Possibly Olga Archangelsky))
In afternoon Mr Megarry asked me to do some work for Colonel Strickland, for which I had to go to the rather deserted Supreme Court, first floor, my typewriter following me carried by a coolie.
Shots were going off periodically.
Out on the Cricket Club ground (opposite Supreme Court) the Navy & Army were playing cricket. As dusk began to fall, the men disappeared and sounds of 'The Maiden's Prayer' was tinkled out, presumably on piano in the pavilion.
Left S. Court just before 8pm, went to Canadian Cafe, which was lit only with an oil lamp. Two or 3 'relieving forces' were trying to balance a debt for a bottle or brandy with 5 Yen and 25 gold cents; I was very happy to provide the extra Yen 75. Had a quick cider.
((An extract from a letter dated 11 Sep 1945, that Barbara wrote to a friend in the UK. Many years later the friend handed the letters back to Barbara, luckily for us!))
....'So far we have had no inward mail and are longing for same. Yesterday, Mum and Mabel embarked on the 'Empress of Australia', but their destination is at present unknown, they aim eventually to get to England. I didn't see them on board because they boarded from Stanley. I'm very glad they have got away because, although we expect to follow in a few weeks, there's always the possibility of a hitch, and Olive and I wanted to be sure that Mum and Mabel got out of this place soon. The bunch who left yesterday were told they would be maintained in England or Australia, wherever they wanted to go, and that their passage back to HK in due course would be guaranteed. At present, I'm quite prepared to leave the East for ever!
It's much hotter in town than in Stanley, and we are feeling the heat pretty badly, with all the unaccustomed running about (between offices). Some 700 ex-internees are working in town - mostly men, Government servants and essential services. Some 650 women and children had cabin accommodation on the E. of A., and a few hundreds of Stanley men were given deck accommodation; all the ex-p.o.ws from the men's camps are also aboard in deck accommodation.
Last night we saw our first fairly up-to-date film; it was 'When Irish Eyes are Smiling', and our only regret was that it wasn't in modern costume; of all the films we have been shown this past week not one has been a modern one.. we are dying to see what the world of today looks like, fashions, etc. At present we feel like country cousins; you should have seen us all stare and exclaim the other night when one of the relieving forces produced a perfectly ordinary cigarette lighter! Some of our makeshifts would make you laugh. I suppose things have been pretty short in England during the war, but I wonder if the school children had to rely on cigarette papers on which to do their home and school work? Our men have had to cut grass sometimes to get fuel with which to cook our rations. Life at Stanley was so communal that there was even a comunal coffin, a huge affair with a false bottom, so that each corpse would be carried therein to the cemetry, the coffin lowered into the grave, the false bottom removed by a fixed rope, and returned for the next victim.
A couple of days ago, Mum came in to visit us from Stanley (about half an hour's journey by road from town,) and we ventured to our old flat in Happy Valley. That block of flats had been bombed fairly recently, ours was knocked about but not too broken except for a pile of bricks in the bathroom. No wood in the flat at all, even the staircase had been bereft of wood. No doors or cupboards, the whole place was absolutely bare; only things left were an old plant, out of its pot, which was lying on the verandah, two old lampshades on the floor. The bath remained, although the lavatory had vanished, and the cistern, broken, was on the floor of one of the bedrooms. I looked among little heaps of rubbish for papers or something that looked like home, but such papers there were in Chinese. If there had been one thing that reminded us of home, I think we would have wept, but the absolute lack of reminders made it seem impossible that it was once our home. We also visited Dad's grave, the tomb stone was OK.
Life is rapidly getting back to normal; many people have had perms in the last week, but my hair is too short for one at present. We had swimming at Stanley - a lovely beach, but it was such a drag there and back, we hadn't much energy to go there very much, and the whole of experience of wallowing in the water or swimming - though fantastic - gave us too much of an appetite which couldn't be satisfied on rice and greens. Still it seems too much to realise that we are really free and can eat decent food; I'm only sorry that I can't eat all we are offered, my stomach seems to have shrunk; it breaks my heart to have to refuse food or leave anything on the plate, after the many dreams of food we have had.
We still have had no news of or from the boys ((soldiers)) we knew pre-Dec. 8th, we thought some of them were sent to Japan. ((Two survived, but Olive's fiance died in Japan.))
Things have happened so quickly - it is only a month ago since we were all in a flap in camp because the Japs sent for 170 technicians and their families and sent them off to an unknown destination, later proved to be Kowloon. That was the first sign we had that something might be happening, though we had no idea what; coincident with that was the rumour that Russia had come into the war. On the 14th August the rumours that the war with Japan was over seemed contradicted, because a plane zoomed down very near Stanley and sank a couple of small ships - so the news of the 15th was doubly surprising... we can still hardly believe it! Please excuse incoherence, I think all internees and pows are slightly mental in some way or another, we have poor memories and repeat ourselves, and find life very, very sweet after so much seclusion and restriction.
The Empress of Australia finally leaves Junk Bay after delays caused by boarding problems. It carries former POWs from Shamshuipo and 550 former internees – mainly women and children.
Spome of the thousand or so internees left behind spend the day moving into new accomodation - 'overcrowding is a thing of the past' - as Chinese workers under military supervision clear up the camp. These workesr are well reawrded: the repatriates were strictly limited in what they were could take on board, and the cleaners are allowed to take any serviceable articles and food they can find.
The internees are also asked to choose from four options: 1) evacuation on the first ship out; 2) evacuation on the second ship out; 3) evacuation on a subsequent ship; 4) remaining permanently in Hong Kong.
Those who choose to remain are warned that any negative consequences from foregoing the chance to recuperate are on their own heads.
In Britain the Daily Mirror (page 5) publishes the well-known photograph of a man ((now identified as R. E. Jones)) raising the Unon Jack at Stanley on August 30. The paper undertstandably but wrongly claims it was the first time the flag has flown in Hong Kong since 'Black Christmas' in 1941: in fact the British flag has been raised at least three times since the Japanese surrender, in Ma Tau-wai, on the Peak and in Shamshuipo (probably in that order) -
Events at Stanley: South China Morning Post and the Hongkong Telegraph, 'Cleaning Up Stanley', September 12, 1945, p. 1 (Morning Edition)
Note:
The Empress was originally due to sail on September 9. The report mentioned above predicts it will get away on September 11, and I think it likely that it did. However, one good source gives September 12:
In September 1945, thousands of recently released POWs and civilian internees were sailing away from Hong Kong, heading towards home, family and a chance to recuperate from the hardships of the recent years.
Among the group sailing on the Empress of Australia was widowed mother Una Brown and her young daughter Annette. Born in 1940, most of Annette's short life to that point had been spent within the confines of Stanley Internment Camp. She appears in this photo taken at the camp shortly after the Japanese surrender. (Annette is sitting at front left, labelled 2A).
Below, Annette shares her family's memories of the trip from Hong Kong to Australia.
Una Brown & daughter Annette
Our journey from Hong Kong (Stanley Camp) to Australia Sept/Oct 1945
We sailed from Hong Kong on the Empress of Australia at 7:00am on the 11th September 1945.
Empress of Australia in Hong Kong 1945, by Joan Harrison
The next day my mother wrote to her Australian Aunt Edie, her mother’s sister, from on board the ship:
“Well, here we are on our way to we don’t know where – Manila is our first stop (tomorrow) so maybe then we’ll know more about our fate.
I’ve put down for Australia so will you please let us come and stay with you until I can get settled. Honestly, I really don’t know what I’m going to do, but anything I find in the way of work I’m sure will be sufficient to allow Annette and me to live a more comfortable life and give Annette better food than we’ve been used to these last awful years. Aunty and Uncle, I do so hate asking if I can come to you but I’m absolutely lost, no Harold or Mum to go to -- oh! Now is the time we war widows are beginning to realise what really has happened.
I’m so hoping I’ll be able to receive news of Jack ((Mum’s younger brother)) in Manila – so longing to see or hear of him again. I feel quite sure he must be safe but there is always that ‘but’.
All I have saved are my private papers and snaps, plus a few odds and ends and one or two worn out dresses – an absolute tramp now. Never mind, fate may have something nice in store. For the present all I want to do is try and forget the past.
Everyone on board is absolutely grand to us all. We are nine in a cabin, in three triple decker bunk beds, but that doesn’t matter at all – we put up with almost anything after some of our experiences. Annette saw her first picture today – she was rather afraid of it – the first was a Donald Duck (she liked that) but the other was a pirate picture and the children were rather afraid of it.
It’s rather difficult watching the children on board – there must be thousands of us and if we don’t watch them carefully, they get lost!”
On the 13th we arrived in Manila in the Philippines, which had been regained by the Allies by mid-January 1945.
Mum was horrified at the shipping destruction still evident in the harbour from the Japanese bombing of a few years earlier. She said it looked like a graveyard of ships. Wrecks of large vessels were everywhere; many of them had sunk leaving just their masts and superstructure showing. That evening we drew up alongside the battered wharf, where the troops disembarked. They were taken to a rest camp for a fortnight’s recuperation before final repatriation. The following morning, we moved out into the bay and anchored to a large wreck used as a buoy. Mum counted the ships and recorded them, in shorthand, on a small piece of paper. She said there were 257 or more, plus two aircraft carriers and two hospital ships, one of them from New Zealand.
The Hong Kong volunteers who had been prisoners of war and transported to work-camps in Japan arrived in Manila at midnight on the 14th. Mum was overjoyed to hear that her younger brother, Jack, was safe.
On the 18th we returned to the wharf to take up 1,000 more troops and sailed on to Singapore where we had to leave the ship, as she was going to England and we were headed for Australia. As our small group were gathered at the top of the gangway preparing to disembark, Mum noticed a very well-dressed lady and gentleman at the bottom of the steps, just about to embark. We waited for them but they stood back and beckoned us down, shaking each one of us by the hand and saying it was an honour to meet us. They were Lord and Lady Mountbatten, who were boarding the ship to return to England.
When I think back about the Empress of Australia, the thing I remember most is my delighted fascination with a glass counter on the ship. I would stand, for hours it seemed to me, staring wide-eyed at the trinkets under the glass. It was as if a magician had cast a spell, waved his hand, and suddenly the magical bits and pieces appeared before me. Day after day I was drawn to this counter just to stand and gaze at the treasures under the glass. The Empress had been a passenger liner before she was converted to a troop ship, and this magical place was a gift shop.
When we left the Empress in Singapore, we stood on the wharf feeling confused and not knowing where we were to sleep that night as our new ship, the transport vessel Tamaroa was not ready for us to board. A Dutch hospital ship was berthed at the wharf and the captain very kindly invited us onboard to spend the night on his ship.
Finally, we were able to board the Tamaroa and were on our way once again. Also on our ship were some of the Australian Army's 8th Division, ex-prisoners of war who were being returned home to Australia.
My mother wrote a letter “at sea” on 2nd October:
“Well, we’re definitely on our way to Australia at last. Fremantle is the first port of call – how I do hope I’ve done the right thing in coming to you all – I do hope I won’t be too much of a nuisance, and I’m so longing to see you, one and all.
Everyone on board is very kind to us. It’s such a treat having hot running water – to have running water at all seems grand, but HOT water after 3½ years is more than grand! Fresh fruit is another thing I appreciate and, of course, it’s so civilised to sit at tables with proper cutlery once more – had almost forgotten such a life existed but now it seems absolutely impossible that we existed for the last 3½ years on what we did.
Annette is getting very spoilt with all the ‘Diggers’ – suppose it’s because she is so fair and they haven’t seen white kiddies for so long.”
Notes on 7th October:
“The children had a lovely party, and sports, yesterday. They had a grand time. We women all spend quite a lot of time sewing and mending for the men on board and they do appreciate it, too.
I’m beginning to worry quite a lot now that we are getting so close to Melbourne – I do hope everyone is safe and all our families complete after these awful years – we had enough in Hong Kong without any more sadness, didn’t we?”
When we had left our home in Kowloon when the Japanese attacked in 1941, Mum had only taken a few necessary items with her, including things for a young child. She thought she would be able to return for more. But she was never able to. We never saw our home again. Apart from a few items that other people had kindly retrieved from our flat for us, we had entered captivity with very little in the way of clothing or possessions.
On the Tamaroa Mum learned that the Red Cross would be providing us with some clothing in Fremantle. She also wrote in her notes for the 7th October,
“The Red Cross have promised us clothes in Fremantle so I hope I can have a pair of shoes, especially for Annette.”
Mum had been wearing shoes made from parts of old rubber tyres for the soles, with wide canvas straps across the top. Like most of the growing children, I had run around the camp in bare feet.
Apart from that contact with the Red Cross, Mum received no more help from authorities. There was no such thing as trauma counselling in those days.
My poor mother had such deep worries and concerns at that time but I was just a young child.
Fortunately, Mum had kept her passport with her important papers so she had it with her in the camp. On the renewal page is the following entry.
“Bearer is now interned in the Military Internment Camp, Hong Kong. This passport is renewed for the purpose of assisting her to establish her identity until such time as she is able to obtain a valid renewal or re-issue of the said passport.”
There is another addition on page two of the passport, namely – mine! I was added on the 21st May 1943, under the “Children – Enfants” section.
Mum’s passport is an interesting document showing a history of her travels since 1928. It has many passport stamps, but the stamp I love best says,
“Seen by Customs
10th October 1945
Fremantle, W.A.”
We sailed on to Melbourne, arriving at Princes Pier, Port Melbourne, on 16th October. There was a report the next day on page 4 of the Melbourne Argus about the arrival of the Tamaroa. It says there were several thousand people assembled outside the wharf gates to welcome home prisoners of war from Singapore. Our ship berthed to the accompaniment of ships’ sirens, cheering, flag-waving and popular tunes from a military band. A small number of civilian internees and several children also disembarked. My mother and I were two of those internees. I did not know it at the time, but I was in fact “home”.
A cousin met us and drove us to Williamstown, where we were to live for just over a year. What absolute delights awaited me there! Our aunt radiated warmth and happiness and showered us with her love. At five years old all I remembered was the camp. Now I was bewildered by my new surroundings but also wide-eyed at all the wonderful things my aunt had, and at all the houses with beautiful gardens around them! I thought Williamstown was a magical place!
Aunt Edie would smile sweetly and look lovingly at me in her gentle fashion, her head inclined slightly to one side. Often when she pottered around in the kitchen I would watch in amazement as she washed dishes in a bowl filled with hot water. I learned to help wash and dry the dishes, handling each piece with extreme care lest I should damage one. They were stored in a “dresser” or wall unit with a cupboard underneath and open shelves on top. The shelving had a little fence of ornately sculptured wood across the front and little grooves to place the dishes in. There were hooks to hang the cups from. We didn’t have to share only one tin mug now! How beautiful it all looked when all the pieces were neatly in place. I marvelled at the variety of utensils in that kitchen, compared to the tins with wire handles and odds and ends that I had been used to. And when we went out for afternoon tea, we no longer had to take our own tin mugs, plates and spoons etc!
Aunty Edie was also my saviour as far as mealtimes were concerned. I still did not have a very big appetite; I guess my stomach had shrunk in the camp. I had also developed pneumonia twice, within weeks of arrival, and had been in hospital. Dear Aunt Edie used to sit next to me at the dining table, in front of the brightly burning log fire in the fire-place. She kept her gentle eye on me and when she saw me struggling with something I obviously did not want to eat, she would sneak the offending food from my plate and wrap it quietly on her lap under the table top, in newspaper parcels. Poor Mum! She did so want me to eat the nutritious food so that I would regain my health and strength but, as she did not want to upset her aunt, she kept quiet.
It wasn’t long before Mum found employment. She had become friendly with a gentleman returning to Australia on our ship. His wife had been working as a stenographer for an accounting firm while he was away overseas, but she intended to leave her job now that he was coming home. Mum successfully applied for this position. In a few days she was working for a very friendly firm of accountants in Little Collins Street, Melbourne.
We didn’t return to Hong Kong to live. Mum met an ex-serviceman who had been on the Burma Railway and in Changi. They married twelve months later and we moved into our new home. A very simple thing I saw when I opened the bathroom door meant the world to me: my new Dad had installed a shiny metal toothbrush holder and hanging in it were three toothbrushes – one for Mum, one for him, and one for me! I knew then that I had been accepted into this new family.
I was very fortunate to have had my mother tell me her stories over the years. I used to take a notepad with me when I met her weekly for lunch and enthusiastically wrote down details of her and her brothers growing up in Hong Kong. My children wanted me to “write it all down” properly and so I started writing life stories. I realised I needed to explain why my English, Scottish and Australian family was in Hong Kong, so my writing is developing into a family history book, with Hong Kong as the central story.
A big thankyou to Annette for sharing her family's stories with us.
For more information about these events, I suggest :
