John Charter's wartime journal: View pages

One more month gone. How much longer are we to remain here?

At any rate, the Americans have departed……and some of the British community have received their $75 parcels! Really I had begun to doubt both the promised departure and arrival. True, instead of $75 worth we get only $52.50, the rest going on squeeze and rake offs etc; but even that is something. Yvonne and I hope ours will come soon.

The Americans finally departed on the Asama Maru at 6 p.m. on Tuesday 30th June.  We had heard the Asama was due on Monday morning and sure enough, at about noon, a large ship appeared on the horizon and as it drew nearer and steamed in between the Lamma Islands we saw it had the Japanese colours (white background with central red disc) painted amidships on the sides, with a large white cross on either side of the colours and another cross both at the bows and the stern. It disappeared from view behind the hill of the peninsula and then steamed round the point and anchored in the channel between this island and the Po Toi Islands, about a mile from the shore. Rob Kendall was with us, and Frasier, Pete and a couple of other Americans with Mrs Glanville and Co next door. They were all very cheerful and thrilled at the prospect of getting away. It is quite extraordinary how sentimental the average American seems to grow on such occasions. I think most of them felt genuinely sorry that the British were being left behind, they seemed almost to have a guilty feeling that they were sneaking away and abandoning us to our fate!. They had been saying “Good bye,” off and on for the last few days and Bob (whose special weakness was Isa) ((probably Isa Lammert)) had been almost living on our balcony for those days. He insisted on kissing all the girls good bye and this happened at least twice! They all seemed to be of the opinion that we should be following within two to four months. Let’s hope so: the sooner the better.

((More about the Americans' departure:)) One of the Star Ferry boats, accompanied by several launches had arrived during the morning, for the purpose of ferrying the passengers to the Asama. The sound of its siren, or hooter, was so familiar that it sent a pang through me. During the morning there arrived also some 50 Americans from town. They came in by bus and were made up of all the American bankers (all bank men have been kept in town, all British and Americans) and Chinese with American passports. They were the first to board the ferry.

The Stanley Americans (about 320 in number) had had their baggage inspected on the previous day. I watched the Japanese gendarmes going through some of the kit, and they were pretty thorough about it. No one was allowed to take any written matter and no photographs with Hong Kong scenery in them. One of the Maryknoll Fathers had spent a great deal of time writing out a series of sermons, and the poor beggar was forced to part with them. He left them in the care of one of the Americans remaining behind, in the hope that, one day, they will be returned to him. If ever we are evacuated or repatriated, it seems that I and this diary will be forced to part-company. I shall have to try and hide it somewhere on the off chance that one day I shall return and retrieve it. That goes for Yvonne’s recipe book as well.

The last of the Americans was ferried from the small pier to the Star Ferry launch and the launch itself weighed anchor and set off for the Asama at about 4.30. The hillside was quite crowded with British and the remaining Americans, waving farewell to the voyagers.

Every person had been allowed to take five suit cases, but no trunks or boxes were permitted. Yvonne and I have 3 suit cases and two wicker baskets between us! The rest of our goods have alas perished. Well, good luck to them and a happy landing. They proceed first to Lorenzo Marques in Portuguese East Africa, stopping for a day at Saigon to pick up a few more Americans there. At Lorenzo Marques they will re-embark upon an American ship and proceed to New York via the Cape of Good Hope - 3/4 of the way round the globe instead of simply crossing the Pacific. The Asama Maru will then return from Lorenzo Marques with the Japanese Nationals from America that have been exchanged for the Americans. We hear that the Conte Verde (the large Italian ship that Yvonne and I saw at anchor at Shanghai 18 months ago) is accompanying the Asama to L.M. with Americans from Shanghai. However, this is only hearsay. So also is the news that two or three Japanese are being exchanged for one American.

Somehow 50 Americans have elected to remain in Stanley. There are some Nuns and quite a few missionaries amongst them. Why they should choose to remain here I don’t know, because this is a completely unproductive existence. Perhaps they think the war will soon be over. Some of them may be business men with their own businesses, and they may have decided to stay here so as to be on the spot when trade and business starts again. This war here will have smashed many small businesses; probably some big business houses too.

Since the departure of the Americans there has been a great deal of re-billeting going on. The remaining Americans have moved right up to one end of the former American blocks and occupy three flats there. That now leaves 9 big flats and 3 smaller flats vacant; also the European Warders’ Club premises that had been occupied by the Americans.

The billeting committee is aiming at 6 people in the large room (living room) in each flat, 4 for the dining room, 5 in each of the two bedrooms and 2 in each of the two servants’ rooms. The small flats have one bedroom only, so the big flats should contain 24 people and the small ones 19. (There were 33 and 2 babies in our two bedroomed flat to begin with!). The aged and infirm and mothers with babies (whose husbands are not in camp) are amongst the first to be moved in, then people from overcrowded rooms, and so on. The rooms in the Indian Quarters are much smaller and have been occupied by 3 and 4 people, 7 per flat. It is hoped to reduce these too. For some reason the Japanese authorities have instructed all single policemen to move from St Stephens to the Indian Quarters, and single men in the Indian Quarters are to take their places at St Stephens. This has caused a lot of upset and confusion. In fact there is such confusion at the moment that no people are being allowed in or out of the hospital till it is all over, as such movements only add to the confusion. Thanks goodness Yvonne and I are staying put. The Bidwells, Isa and Mr Lammert are hoping they will be able to secure a room for four in this block. It will be nice for them if they can, as they will be able to live together as a family.

Mr Lammert has already moved up from the Indian Quarters and is occupying a pantry, temporarily in one of the flats in this block. He has his meals with us. If they move out it will mean one more person will move into our room. We had thought of asking Frank Burford if he would like to leave the PWD bungalow and join us. Maudie Min does not want to leave her bungalow or she might have come. That would leave three Fortescues, two Charters and one other. If the Bidwells and Isa went it would make the balcony more commodious, for at present their beds occupy a great deal of balcony space and make it impossible to open one of the French windows. However, at the moment there is no ‘4 room’ vacant.

Today we have each been given a Red Cross correspondence form to fill in. We shall be able, (we hope) by this method to send a message:

“Not over 25 words, jaunty news of strictly personal character”. 

In other words it will just enable us to inform our families or friends that we are still alive and kicking, which, after all, is all that matters. I have just completed my message and dated it 17th July 1942 (Pop’s birthday; many happy returns) which is the date by which they are to be handed in. These letters, or forms, will go via Geneva and an answer of 25 words can be appended to the back and the sheet returned to the enquirer. It would be good to get news that both our families are safe and well. At present we have no cause to think otherwise, but reassurance would be welcome. However, as I imagine it would be something like four months before we could hope for a reply, I sincerely hope we shall have moved on from here before that time has elapsed.

My message doesn’t seem vastly original but it is difficult to think of uncensorable original messages to send. I have written to Mother and Father, addressed to the Mission House, Colombo and said:

“Both still well, cheerful, regaining weight. All friends you know are well. Yvonne, twenty one August sixth, pity. Often think of families; are all safe? Love”.

By this I hope they will gather that 1. We have written before; 2. We have had a thin time but conditions have much improved. 3. That I had been hoping against hope we should be out of here for Yvonne’s 21st.

I’m afraid Yvonne is doomed to attain her womanhood as a prisoner of war in an internment camp. Although this position certainly is novel, not to say somewhat unique, I would rather we had been able to do a little more justice to the occasion. However, I must manage something: I hope the ingredients for a cake will turn up all right. I intend to melt down one of our two remaining emergency candles and turn it in to 21 little ones!

I have also chosen a spot from where I can paint a small picture of our favourite view - this, I’m afraid, will be about all I can manage for the time being for a present (apart from some chocolate I hope to be able to get). It won’t be a good picture I know, for (a) I haven’t painted anything for rather a long time (b)  the paper I have at my disposal is a sheet of writing paper which is much too smooth for water colour and (c) the paints I hope to borrow are in a child’s paint box belonging to Bridget Armstrong and they will probably be somewhat dry and of inferior quality! Nothing like making excuses before hand. However, I will have a crack at it directly the sun deigns to shine for a day or two.

We have, during the last week, had the fringe of a couple of typhoons. Fortunately nothing strong or drastic developed and both my chimney pots stood up to it! Whether they will in a real typhoon remains to be seen. The mud joints of the brick stack have already begun to wash out quite considerably and, now that we have managed to procure a little cement, I am engaged on pointing the joints with weak cement mortar.

But to return to Yvonne’s 21st, we shall really have to celebrate it when we get out of here, but in the meantime do the best that internment conditions will allow. There is one thing to be grateful for at any rate, and that is that we shall both be together for it.

Adrian celebrated his 1st birthday on June 16th. The Fortescues managed to get a beautiful cake made (the American chef iced and cooked it) and there were about 16 present to celebrate the occasion. Yvonne made him a golliwog and stuffed it with some of the stuffing from our Laikoon Hotel bolster!

Over a fortnight ago we had one of the most pleasant surprises of this camp. Dinsdale, our block representative came down and told me there was a parcel for Mrs Charter. These parcels are allowed in by the Japanese: they are dispatched from Habade’s Store and must not contain more than 5 tins of food, two suits of clothes and limited numbers of underclothes, utensils etc. No person can send more than one parcel per week to an internee, though an internee may receive two or more parcels at once from different people (if they were lucky enough!). Yvonne and I were thrilled, for Isa Watson had been receiving parcels regularly, the contents of which she shared with the Bidwells (though she is very generous in the way she gives all of us tit-bits). Maudie Min had been getting parcels regularly from Sophie O’Dell (who is living in town as she has a French Passport) and here again we were lucky as Maudie is most generous; the Armstrongs were getting parcels from Mickie Hahn; and the Fortescues, though they have had only two small parcels containing things for Adrian, had managed to bring into the camp with them several hundred dollars and they had been able to buy a lot of things from the canteen. So Y and I were really the poor relations.

Our scanty amount of money had dwindled with purchases of jam, sugar and cocoa. When the Americans left Yvonne managed to sell (through B. Witham) the one remaining almost new Chinese silk, trousseau night dress that she had been hoarding. Most of her trousseau things, alas, have perished with the rest of our things at the hands of the looters and it seemed a shame not to keep this one night dress. However, we eventually decided that food and good health were more important than a night-dress (that would wear out sooner or later in any case) so she sold it and got $30 for it (one pound seventeen and sixpence (pdv £85) which represented 20 lbs of jam or 10 lbs of sugar. Sugar is terribly expensive now, about 3/9 ($3 - pdv £8.50) per lb. Y had also managed to sell a box of face powder and a bottle of eau-de-cologne for another $13.50, so with about $50 (pdv £140) in our pocket we felt relatively rich again.

Then, quite unexpectedly came the news of this parcel. We thought it might have been an unofficial welfare parcel, for a week or two earlier Dinsdale had been around taking the names of people who had received no parcels at all, the idea being that Dr Selwyn-Clarke (Director Medical Services) who is living in town and acting as medical liaison officer for the British, would try and raise funds from the few wealthy Chinese remaining and send in parcels to internees who had had nothing. (He, Mrs Selwyn-Clarke, Mickie Hahn and Sophie O’Dell have been doing simply heroic work for the internees). However, our guess at a welfare parcel was wrong, for when we went up the hill and eventually obtained it from Yamashitas’ office, we saw to our delight that it came from Yvonne Ho and Herbert Grose. I cannot say how much Yvonne and I appreciate this real kindness of theirs: we are most deeply touched and will not forget it in a hurry. Since that first parcel another one has come, a day or so ago - I do hope they are not stinting themselves, for I am told the people in town are allowed a very small amount of money and I know that prices are exorbitantly high. However, it is reassuring to this extent that if they were really on their beam ends they would not be able to send any parcels at all, so we conclude they are managing to keep their heads above water, for which we are very glad.

We have often wondered how our friends in town are faring. Hongkie, I imagine, will have managed to get away to Shanghai. We hear, incidentally that the population of HK has been reduced by 50%. On the island the number has decreased from 800,000 to about 450,000.

The first parcel that Yvonne Ho and Herbert sent us contained 5 different 12 oz tins of jam, 4 Indian corns on the cob (fresh), and two tooth brushes! We gave one corn to Maudie Min., one to the chaps in the room and the other two we took over to Kitty and Billy Hacket and shared them with them. We made a little cheese sauce and they were delicious! The tooth brushes were a real brainwave, for we had been making do with some ancient pre-war brushes and were badly in need of new ones. And jam - well! The more the better. The second parcel contained: one whole 5 lb tin of Apricot jam! 3 tins of soya beans in soy sauce, which made a lovely sauce to eat with our monotonous rice, and two cakes of lovely lifebuoy soap - so clean and refreshing in this sweltering weather.

And now, bless them, they have sent us a third parcel. They must have remembered my birthday, for in the parcel was a coffee tin containing a beautiful home-made cake. Yvonne must have baked it in the tin, which was a very bright idea. It was a sweet thought too. Actually, it smelt so good that we couldn’t wait the 5 days to my birthday on the 22nd, so everyone in the room had a slice and we took up a piece to Maudie. In the parcel also were two 12 oz tins of plum jam and an enormous tin of tomato catsup - simply delicious. It was almost a 7 lb tin! (I hate to think what it cost). We gave the Bidwells, the Fortescues, and Isa and her father a bottle for each pair and we took one to Minnie and even then we had three bottles left for ourselves. These sauces make all the difference to our rice meals, and I believe tomatoes have a lot of vitamins and food value. We managed to get in a message by Bob Kendall, (before the Americans left) thanking Y for her first parcel. I don’t know if the message ever got through, I hope so.

We have had about 10 days of pouring wet hot weather lately, broken by one day with a scorching day of cloudless sky. All day long on that day, all sinks and basins were fully occupied by women feverishly washing arrears of soiled clothes. Yvonne got hers done and out in the sun in time, for the next day down came the rain again. This wet weather is the result of two typhoons which passed within 100 miles or so of HK. We had quite a good blow about a week ago, but nothing approaching typhoon force. However, it convinced the Bidwells that their sleeping pitch on the verandah was no longer tenable and they have moved into the room. This has considerably improved the appearance and amenities of the balcony (when the weather permits us to use it) though we now have hardly enough space in the room in which to turn round. The Bidwells came into our corner as their bed would not fit into the corner beside the fire place, so our bed, which is a little narrower, was moved over. Isa has a camp bed and alternates between the room and the verandah. When all eight of us are in we need only the oil to make us look like a tin of sardines.

Today it has been pouring again. To add to our troubles the electric current throughout the camp has been cut off. Our floor has been without it for the last two nights, but this morning the current failed throughout the whole camp and, I am told, throughout the whole of Stanley. Rumour has it that the HK Electric is out of order (owing to a bomb dropped on it by an American plane!) and the whole of HK is without electricity. At all events, this is adding considerably to our difficulties. No hot water is available at all.

We, in this room, have been lucky enough to get hold of two electric hot-plates and a small electric saucepan (two belong to Isa and the second hotplate to the Fortescues) and it was no difficulty to make a cup of tea or a cup of cocoa, cook porridge or cook up rice with a few raisins and sugar to make raisin rice pudding. This morning I had to revert to the smoky and arduous task of boiling water for the community breakfast tea on a broken chatty! Let us hope the power will soon come on again. Our bakery and some of our cooking too depends on electricity and that is even more important than odd cups of cocoa.

Today, 21st July 1942 is an important date: it is exactly 6 months today since we came to this benighted camp. I never imagined we should be here all this time.  Today, also is the eve of my birthday………this is the last day of my ‘twenties’!

About a fortnight ago Minnie had a lovely surprise. She was told to call at Yamashita’s office to collect some money which had been remitted to her by Capt. Min. She came along on the following day, full of excitement, to say that Capt. Min had sent her $500 (pdv £1400)! Almost in her next breath she told Y and me that we were to have $20 each and when we had spent that we could ask her for more. She is kind. We accepted her kind offer very gladly for we were dying to launch out and be a little extravagant. Accordingly, when the canteen was next open we bought 1 lb coffee, 1 lb raisins, 2 lbs sugar, 1 lb rolled oats and ½ lb cheese! We have coffee after lunch now with a cigarette! It really is the height of luxury. It makes me think of the days before the war when I used to toss down my after lunch cup of coffee with hardly a thought. I wonder how long we shall continue to fully appreciate the simple pleasures of life after leaving this camp. We have agreed that this money shall be regarded as a loan; then I shall not mind asking Minnie for some more later should we need it.  

I hear that people in the Indian Quarters have again seen a tiger.

About a month ago quite a number of nurses came into camp from St Theresa’s Hospital (next to the Argyle Street British Officers Camp in Kowloon) and Bowen Road Military Hospital. Amongst them were Mrs Pritchard and Pamela. We were very glad to see them again, but not half so glad as Mr Pritchard, who had seen neither of them since war was declared. The last I had seen of Pam was on the Sunday before the war (this local war) at a rehearsal of ‘George and Margaret.’ She brought the sad news that Charles Gilmour (who was taking the part of Mr Garth Bander – ‘Poppet’ - in the same play) had died from the wound on his head. I was so sorry to hear this, especially as news had come in earlier that he was making an amazingly good recovery. Apparently he had a relapse. So both he and Tim Mackinlay out of the cast of 8 were killed. It was funny how I kept accidentally running across Charles during the war……he was in the armoured car division.
  
Since the re-billeting the Pritchards have managed to get a room to themselves in the Indian Quarters. Pam’s most exciting piece of news was that that she and Denis Poltock had become engaged. He made his proposal in a letter which was smuggled into the hospital in a match box! Real war time romance!

My birthday has come and gone and I have now joined the ranks of the S.O.B.’s (Silly Old Buffers). A most enjoyable day it was too. The weather cleared up and we had quite a fine day for a change. Y told me I was not to get up until she told me to. When she had prepared breakfast she called me and I popped up, on the table I found sliced banana on cornflakes, which we ate with milk and sugar! Bread and marmalade and coffee. It was really luscious! My usual peacetime weekday breakfast, except that Y could not conjur butter out of air nor fresh milk out of a packet of powder!

On the table too I found a packet from Marjorie, Tim and Adrian and on opening it I found three packets of cigarettes! We smoked one after breakfast as it was a special occasion. At lunch time, the 11 a.m. meal, a community tin of corned beef was opened in honour of the occasion and I found Y had made two lovely bowls of chocolate cornflower mould which we had for second course - quite an unheard of luxury.

We had invited, for my tea party, the members of our room, including Mr Lammert who always has his meals with us now, Maudie Min, Buckie and Winnie. We had some tomato juice spread on bread and Y’s greatest culinary triumph, a birthday cake complete with ‘Happy Birthday John’ and a candle. The candle was somewhat short and stumpy, but it had the virtue of not burning down too quickly! The cake really was delicious: made of twice sifted flour (to get the weavils and worms out of it!) currants, margarine, sugar and milk powder (all of which had been obtained from the canteen) and some baking powder that Minnie had provided. So the day was a great success. Y had given an awful lot of thought to it. Minnie gave me $10 for a present which was most kind of her: the Armstrongs sent me a banana! And dear old Buckie gave me ten packets of cigarettes. She must have been saving her cigarette ration for ages to collect them all.

Everyone has been entitled to buy a cigarette ration of 4 packets (40 cigarettes) about every three weeks. This has happened fairly regularly for about four times now, though no statement has been made that these issues will become regular. The tobacco is pretty inferior stuff, but the cigarettes are very welcome. It is not difficult to dispose of them on the following day to the heavy smokers at twice the price i.e. 60 cents (cost being 30 cents per packet). Minnie’s present of $10 to us has enabled us to buy our ration and we each enjoy a cigarette after lunch and supper. We often go out in the evening between 6.30 and 8.00 p.m. and sit on the rocks, smoke our cigarettes and read or talk. It is very pleasant to get away by ourselves sometimes. We generally visit Maudie Min at this time of day as it is pleasant and cool (or cooler).

We sat on the rocks on my birthday evening looking across Tytam Bay, the prettiest of the Stanley views and the one I hope to paint for Y’s 21st birthday. I am getting a bit worried about this picture as, for two or three weeks the weather has been so wet that it has quite prohibited any landscape painting. I have now only about 10 days left. Yesterday was pretty fine but the clouds were down on the hills I want to paint and so I could not get a true idea of the composition. I hope I shall be lucky enough to get one fine day at least. Christine Corra has kindly given me a piece of somewhat flimsey cartridge paper and has offered me her paints which, though old, are Windsor and Newton and should be quite good. Vera Armstrong has unearthed a picture frame measuring 9” x 7” which I have gladly borrowed. I shall have to cut the picture down to that size and have no mount, hoping that one day, if the picture ever survives, to have it mounted and framed in a larger frame.

I have also been enquiring about the possibilities for Y’s 21st birthday cake. Mrs Greenwood, I think, will come to the rescue and make and cook that for me. She says she can get hold of some flour for me too which is a load off my mind. Y used the last of our flour for my cake and Y’s cake will have to be considerably larger than mine as she will have to invite at least 22 guests. I am trying to think of a method of making 21 small candles for the cake. I propose to ice the cake with a coating of chocolate icing made of corn starch, cocoa and sugar! And decorate the cake and make the lettering with silver paper. I must also cut out ‘The key of the door’ for her!

I expect our families have been and will be thinking of us especially on these birthday occasions. We saw in the paper that the American repatriates had reached Lorenzo Marques on or about July 20th or 21st. I do hope Col Doughty managed to send off the cables we asked him to on that date. In that event it is just possible that Mother and Father and Chère will have received the news of our safety on my birthday. I do hope it reached them by now at anyrate. Chère will cable to Pop.

A fine day at last. I crept away this morning while Yvonne was busy washing, collected the paint box etc. and stole off to my selected point. Incidentally, this spot is just opposite a sentry box on the cliff side and I am just a little anxious that the sentry may take it upon himself to come over and see what I am up to. A rock screens me from his direct view so I daresay he thinks I have gone there just to read (if he thinks at all!) and in any case there is no rule so far as I know against making landscape paintings of the local views.

I got to work, sketched out the hills and put on a couple of preliminary washes. So far so good. But when I started to block in the general shadows of the hills, I came quite unstuck, for the paper was so absorbent and the temperature so high that the paint dried before I had a chance to do anything with it. It was like working on blotting paper and demanded a technique of daubs and blobs which would be no more than impressionistic and would not allow sufficient detail for a smallish picture like this. To add to my troubles the perspiration rolled off me and my fist stuck to the paper whenever I touched it. So the long and short of it is that I have decided to start again - one precious day wasted. But I think it is all to the good because I have obtained from a Mrs Braithwait a much better piece of paper (with an old pen and ink sketch on one side) and it looks now as though we are in for a spell of fine weather which means the colours of the sea and sky will be more brilliant than they were this morning.

On Saturday we went to the most excellent concert given by the ‘Optimists.’ The moving spirit in the show was Cyril Brown - he wrote most of the lyrics for the songs - though Carol Bateman directed the show and was responsible for some really excellent dancing:  the acrobatic dancing by June Winklemann and Dorothy Morley was really first class. They are about thirteen years-old and they both have lovely figures and are very supple and graceful. Cressal was responsible for a very amusing opening chorus and a snappy and amusing programme. Garton (of the PWD) has come to the fore in these concerts and has proved himself an artiste above the average; rumour has it that he was once on stage as a variety artist. At the end, Gimson, the newly appointed Colonial Secretary (he arrived in the Colony about a week before war was declared here) made a stirring speech, the purport of which could not be mistaken. He referred to a dream he had had when he found himself walking through the familiar surroundings of Stanley, but he noticed several changes, chief of which was a different sort of flag seemed to be fluttering over the prison! At the concert given for the departing Americans Gimson made a still more stirring speech. One phrase of his evoked the most spontaneous shout I have ever heard I think. I cannot remember his words, but the gist of it was that we were saying farewell to our American friends; he knew in his heart of hearts……as we all did……that we should meet again out of here when conditions would be very different to those that obtained at the present. He voiced our own personal convictions in a bold and blunt manner and it was good to hear it. Japanese officials were somewhere in the crowd and it says a lot for their understanding that no exception was taken to the remark. After all, we are prisoners, forcibly, and therefore, in our prison camp amongst ourselves, we are entitled at least to freedom of thought and speech. This would be accorded to prisoners of war in our own country and we expect the same for ourselves. Of course, this would probably not be permitted in Gestapo ridden Germany.

Marjorie, poor girl, has just been taken off to hospital by Tim and Harold, suffering excruciatingly from ear-ache. Apparently she is often a martyr to ear-ache, but this time the fluid (wax etc.) behind the ear could not escape through the usual small passage, which had become blocked, and the pressure had actually burst the eardrum. She had been given a morphine injection to deaden the pain, poor thing. Tim and the doctor are worried because, in spite of the relief that the perforated eardrum should have given, her ear still aches abominably. I do hope she will be better by tomorrow.

Yvonne has been having a somewhat hectic afternoon with Kevin Hackett and Adrian! She often helps Kitty by looking after Kevin. I don’t know if I have already mentioned it, but Olive Burt had a baby boy born on May 1st, and Kitty Hackett had her second son, Connor, born on May 3rd.

So far, in this camp, we have had births, deaths, three or four marriages, one imprisonment and one divorce! So far no murders! Though, from what one hears, several people have felt like doing a bit of quiet murdering - generally their neighbours!

We have just returned from visiting Marjorie in hospital.  She is much better and hopes to be out tomorrow. In the meantime Elsie has retired to bed with an ache in her throat and buzzing in her ears. But Billy Hackett who has just been to see her thinks it is nothing serious.

So far, Yvonne and I have been very lucky as far as health is concerned. We both suffered during about March, from an attack of a mild form of dysentery, or gastric flu which was pretty prevalent throughout the camp at that time. The chief snag was that we had, as part of the cure, to eat no solids for 24 hours: we were allowed rice water and tea. In those days our diet was very inadequate and a course of treatment that involved fasting was apt to pull a person down quite a lot. It was a little while after this that I weighed myself and found I was down to 138 lbs (= 134 lbs stripped). Now I am 148 lbs (144 stripped) which is practically my pre-war weight, though I am still about 10 lb less than when I arrived in Hong Kong. Yvonne, when she last weighed, has gained about 7 lbs and is now 122 lbs. Her pre-war weight was 135 lbs. Maudie Min has continued to lose and is now only 123 lbs which is too little. Her pre-war weight was 154 lbs. She is making an effort now to get hold of chocolate and tinned milk and fatten herself up. She really looks extremely fit, though she could do with more weight and finds she hasn’t as much energy as she normally has.

Our meat ration has been dwindling during the past few days and we have had so little meat that our mid-day meals recently have been meatless except for a spoonful of gravy: just rice, spinach or Chinese cabbage and a drop of gravy. Apparently the Japanese are finding the food situation here increasingly difficult to cope with. The rice we have had lately has been appallingly poor stuff. According to Harold, the shipping expert, and other people who know something about rice, it is inferior to cargo rice. ‘Cargo’ rice is the very lowest grade of rice (all broken grains, sweepings from the warehouses etc. that is loaded on cargo ships when there is absolutely no other cargo to be taken and which is loaded on chiefly as ballast. The rice we have had must be sweepings from godowns here that have already been emptied of most of the sacks of rice. It is simply filthy when it arrives. The cooks who normally wash fairly good quality rice in 3 or 4 changes of water before boiling it, have had to wash this 20 times, and still it has been dirty and smelt badly when served up. The grains are broken so small that it is impossible to prevent it being mushy when served; it is simply full of cockroach droppings and eggs, worms and grit in large quantities. The grit, being heavy, is impossible to wash out of the rice and just has to be endured. I have chipped two of my teeth by crunching small stones. One lot was so bad that everyone was given enough raw rice for three meals and we had to go through our own portion with a tea spoon, picking out the ‘roach’ droppings, worms etc. and then return it for cooking. It took over an hour to do but the appearance of the rice for the next three meals certainly made it worthwhile. However, lately there have been signs of improvement following vigorous protests from our Communal Council.

Incidentally, there has been growing criticism of the British Communal Council. It started when the committee of our blocks (2 to 5) strongly criticised the Council for making public (a month after it had been prepared) a balance sheet of the Canteen accounts, drawn up by Hampton Ross (Chartered Accountant) and bearing only his signature and not ratified by any member of the Council.

In this balance sheet there were two items about which no word of explanation was given: one stated ‘$500 cash stolen’ and the other ‘loss in goods due to theft and through breaking down goods $1,100.’ Normally in grocery shops, a loss of 1 to 1 ½ % is allowed when large quantities of cheese, butter, margarine etc. are broken down for re-selling in small quantities. But this in no way explained the huge discrepancy on the balance sheet. 

It was common knowledge that, in spite of canteen guards, the store had twice been broken into and goods stolen and the till had once been robbed of $500 in small notes (such, I regret to say is the state of morality amongst some members of this British (or American or Dutch) Community, but apart from this bold and belated statement of facts, no word of explanation was offered by the Communal Council. Our committee, under the vigorous leadership of Mason, strongly criticised the B.C.C., pointing out that they had been trusted with public money and that in the absence of any critical press they were morally bound to be specially careful and explicit; that no business firm would ever dare circulate such a balance sheet to its shareholders with no explanation; and finally demanding that a committee be immediately formed to conduct a thorough investigation. Furthermore, our committee deemed it necessary, in view of public concern, to make this letter public, and place a copy of it on the notice board.

After about a week a reply was received from the B.C.C. and also placed upon the notice board. It condemned our committee for making their attack public before enquiring what steps the Communal Council had taken to clear up the matter; the reply stated that our committee would have been acquainted with the fact that a thorough investigation was being conducted by the Canteen Committee under the chairmanship of Mr. Newbigging; that no signature by the chairman of the B.C.C. had been appended to the balance sheet pending the findings of the committee; that the whole state of canteen affairs would have been supplied to our committee if they had only taken the trouble to enquire, that it was virtually casting aspertions on the canteen committee etc. and finally the B.C.C. felt obliged to pass a strong vote of censure on the conduct of our committee. Our committee promptly replied that none of their specific questions had been answered by the B.C.C.; that no body of people should have to make enquiries in camera for an explanation of the state of affairs; that, in effect, any member of the public was as entitled to an explanation as was any block committee and again concluded by a request (or demand) for a full and public enquiry.

After about another week the B.C.C. again replied, regretting the aggressive and unhelpful attitude that our commitee had adopted and suggesting that our committee might be satisfied that everything possible was being done if a representative of theirs joined the committee investigating the canteen affairs (this, by the way, after the B.C.C. had passed a vote of censure!). Our committee refused to become involved in the affairs of the B.C.C., stating again that no unsigned balance sheet should have been published as it was a most unbusiness-like method of procedure and pressing for a prompt and full explanation.

Well, the matter rested and has rested. Our committee certainly gave the B.C.C. several bad headaches and in my opinion did a public service. The canteen system was reorganised considerably and a system of checking in all departments was devised and put into operation. The money and goods had definitely been stolen and the canteen staff, were cleared of all blame. I suppose that amount has to be written off as a loss to welfare funds. A 7% profit was made on all canteen purchases, which went to the Welfare account for the purpose of supplying really needy cases with clothing, special vitamin foods, fruit etc.

Since that incident the public have become more critical of the B.C.C. and it was also felt that the Colonial Secretary, Gimson, would be better qualified to deal with the Japanese authorities about all aspects of camp life. At present the C.S. is consulted by the Japanese concerning government affairs such as repatriation (particularly of people normally resident in Shanghai who were caught in HK by the outbreak of war), matters concerning the activities of the International Red Cross in HK etc. The British Communal Council is consulted, or in turn raises requests, protests etc. about affairs concerning Stanley Camp conditions only. Thus representation is divided, making it more difficult for the Japanese and making our position weaker than it would be if all matters relevant to British subjects were under the direction of a smaller and more powerful Council under the chairmanship of Gimson.

This feeling at length found expression in a resolution that the existing Communal Council should resign and that a new Council should be elected, consisting of 8 members and with Gimson as Chairman. This resolution was canvassed in all blocks and the requisite number (according to the constitution of the Council) of 250 signatures was trebled or quadrupled. Mr Gimson had been approached and said that though it placed him in an awkward, or rather, embarrassing position, he felt, as representative of the Crown, that he should assume the Chairmanship of the Council.

Almost half way through another month, thank God!  

The unfortunate British Communal Council, some 10 days ago, published a letter which had been sent to the C.S. in which they reported that they had resigned en bloc, before, even, the above mentioned resolution had been put to the public for signatures. They did the noble thing by offering to remain in office until Mr Gimson could take over office and until the new Council was elected. The C.S. thanked them and requested them to remain in office until 15th August. 

Since then he has come into the open (if that does not convey a wrong impression) at a speech he made to those now accommodated in the former American blocks. In it he stated that on his arrival at the camp (he came to Stanley some weeks or months after the main body of internees arrived) he found that the British community had elected it’s own representative Council, in no ways attempting to make it represent, or have anything to do with His Majesty’s Colonial Government of Hong Kong; that the Council pursued it’s own policy and conducted communications with the enemy Japanese authorities and that their power was limited only by their own ideas and wishes. He added that, fortunately, these wishes and the conduct of the B.C.C. had been moderate and in the interests of HK’s people and possessions and that he had had no occasion to object to them. He assumed now that the general wish of British internees in Stanley, to elect him as Chairman was purely out of loyalty to the Crown, in that they felt that H.M. should be represented even in these circumstances by the properly appointed officer administering the Colony, who had been sworn in to office before hostilities commenced. He further added that he was that officer, with the power of the Governor of Hong Kong, and that the members of the new Council (to be appointed) would be considered by him purely as an advisory body, but in no way as members of the Government here.

Well he has stated this case pretty plainly and, I think, he has made most people think quite a lot. I don’t think that anyone here, at the time of internment, meant any disloyalty whatsoever in keeping Government officers out of the Council. There was general anti-Government feeling because of the awful debacle the war out here proved to be, and people were determined not to put themselves again (during internment) into the hands of these inefficient Government servants! However, having had a whack at it themselves it seems significant that they now want the C.S. back!

Perhaps that is poking fun unfairly, for I believe that this pro C.F. Gimson feeling has been engendered solely because of his growing popularity and general trust in his ability as a capable administrator. He has had the advantage of being able quietly to take stock of the situation during the past months and, being a newcomer to the Colony, he has no old prejudices to fight down; but on the other hand it is greatly to his credit that here, where everyone is more or less shorn of his or her official dignity and standing and people are judged far more by their real ability than by positions they have acquired and held, he should have gained so much confidence and goodwill. I must also add that the general public is still anxious to exclude from power all the senior cadets and officials who seem to have fallen into such disrepute.

The new Council is to be elected at the end of this month. It is to consist of two members from the Married Quarters; two from the Indian Quarters; two from the St Stephens group; one from the bungalows and one from the British now in the former American blocks.

Well, Yvonne’s 21st birthday has come and gone and she has now reached her majority. One of the first things she did on the day following the 6th was to sign a paper with two nominees from this block for the Council! Swank!

The weather was really foul right to Aug 3rd. There had been several afternoons when the sun had shone and the skies cleared, but never a morning. I had to have a clear morning as the shadows on the hills and the view I wanted to paint were in the best position in the morning. Well, on Aug 3rd the sun shone in the morning and the tops of my particular hills were clear of clouds for once. There was a strong wind blowing but I was getting desperate and had to take this chance. I crept forth once more and started my second effort. I managed to get the main tones on in spite of the way the paper flapped about in the strong wind. Then I put on a few of the shadows and then I saw a shower of rain fast approaching. I tried to visualise the other shadows and colours and then had to make a dash for it.

I finished off the painting in doors, after lunch that day, when Yvonne was resting. It was a pretty poor effort and I didn’t even sign my name on it! My colours became overworked and muddy. And then, on the very next day, the skies cleared and the weather was simply beautiful! Fate really had been most unkind; having waited all July for a few fine days, the weather eventually cleared and changed just before the 6th. However, I had neither the material, time, nor inclination to try another. 

I had cut out a large latch key in thin wood and surprising to relate, I found a man who possessed some silver paint and I was able to paint it silver. Mrs Greenwood had come to my rescue by promising to make a birthday cake. I think really she was glad to do it because she is very fond of Yvonne. She certainly did it beautifully. She procured the flour and actually put in some of her own margarine, which was most kind of her. I provided currants, margarine, sugar, two eggs (ducks eggs, which I had managed to buy at the phenomenal price of 2 shillings each! (pdv £4.50 each), and Maudie Min gave me some baking powder, augmented with some bicarbonate of soda. The cake was square and low (about 12” x 12”). Mrs Greenwood made the cake on Wednesday morning, the 5th, and I took it to the Armstrong’s room in the afternoon to ice it. The icing consisted of sugar, cocoa and cornstarch mixed in water and boiled to a stiff paste. I had hoped to be able to add milk powder to the mixture, but I had rashly given Mrs Greenwood all our precious store of full cream milk powder, expecting her to make about ½ pint or pint of milk for mixing the cake; but she in her enthusiasm for the cake, tipped the whole lot into the mixture! Ruinous!  However, the cake tasted very good. I made the chocolate blancmange icing and spread it on hot. I had inverted the square cake tin and placed the cake upon it, covering the edge of the tin with silver paper (from cigarette packets). Then I put round the edges the 21 small pink candles I had made. I had taken a red coated candle that we had and melted it down and made 21 small pink candles for it. I rolled up thin paper tubes or spills for this; threaded through a thin piece of string for the wick, attached at one end to a lump of wax pushed into the tube; then poured in the hot wax, cooled it under a tap and unrolled the paper from the candle. I cut these into small lengths, mounted them in small cups of silver paper and stuck them round the cake. Inside I placed lettering, a naval crown and the date cut out in silver paper. This was a terribly ticklish job and had to be done with a razor blade. It took me a couple of evenings. On each of the four vertical sides of the cake I stuck a silver paper 21. When completed it looked quite pretty with its chocolate brown, pink and silver colour scheme. 
                                      
Unfortunately the chocolate blancmange icing was rather too stiff and when it set and cooled it cracked all over, which was rather a pity.  Maudie undertook to make some scones, which she split and filled with jam. They were delicious. Elsie and Isa, in addition, took it upon themselves to cut bread squares and spread them with three different kinds of jam - very kind of them indeed. In the morning I had made two big jugs of tea (one with mint) and these Mrs Greenwood let me ice in the refrigerator. Well, it may all sound pretty meager for a 21st birthday party, but by Stanley standards, it was pretty good!

The 6th August dawned bright and hot. I arose early to prepare Yvonne’s birthday breakfast. The previous evening I had been round to the various blocks begging what flowers they had that had survived the heavy weather. I managed to get quite a good collection of yellow and purple flowers which I put in a big glass jar on the table. These I gave her from her Mummy and Daddy. I gave a second small bunch to his “0ooo” from David. From Mother, Father and Betty I gave her ½ lb of toffees that I had managed to purchase at the canteen. From myself the blighted picture (with which she seemed very pleased)! Maudie gave her a lovely box of Russian chocolate that she had managed to get from town, and a $10 note. Also a very nice suede belt which she gave her from Chère, saying that when she met Chère she would get her to pay for it so that it really did come from her. Harold and Elsie gave her some toffees and some cigarettes; Isa, cigarettes and matches; Tim and Marjorie a tin of asparagus shoots; Mrs Greaves a pat of toilet soap; Francis Dodds, a packet of cigarettes: all these on the breakfast table. For breakfast we had cornflakes and milk (milk donated by Isa!), baked beans on toast, toast and marmalade and coffee.

((More about Yvonne's birthday party on the 6th ...)) Maudie had invited both of us to have lunch with her! I should think that was making history in Stanley - except perhaps amongst the more fortunate Americans. It was really very pleasant to have a change of scenery on this special occasion - not that we dislike our stable companions by any means! - but it made it seem much more of a special occasion. Maudie had prepared a lovely luncheon with no rice! She had invited Mrs Johnson, Mr & Mrs Hyde-Lay and Mrs Mack, all of them members of ‘C’ bungalow.  ‘C’ bungalow is, at present, rehearsing for a concert, and as we approached, Mr Langston shouted, “Maudie”, and immediately the chorus of the concert party stopped their rehearsal and sang, “She’s twenty one today!” A really good welcome. 

We sat down to lunch at about 12 o’clock (usual time!!) And we had tunny fish with tinned beetroot and tomato, which had all been chilled in the refrigerator, and Melba toast. Then for sweet we had a lovely rain tart which Maudie had provided and Mrs Mack had made. We finished off with coffee and cigarettes. It was a delicious meal - such a change from our interminable rice. A Mr Oscar Eager (bungalow representative at ‘C’) had made a bottle of raisin wine and it was just about ready for opening, so he very kindly popped the cork and brought along a beaker full for Y. We all had a sip and wished her, “All the best”. So a cork was drawn for the occasion after all!

At this party the Hyde-Lays gave Y a tablet of Lux toilet soap and so did Mrs Johnson. At the tea party she had several other presents too. Joan Walkden gave her a kind of diamante brooch and brought some packets of cigarettes for her from Mr and Mrs Mason; Buckie gave her a set of flat mother of pearl buttons and belt clip; Pam Pritchard a handkie; the Hacketts a tin of pork and beans, the Corras sent a little tin of pate de fois gras; Olive Burt gave her a lovely bottle of Yardleys bath crystals: Winnie Deane (who had called in the morning) gave her a very gay and pretty sun top that she had made by sewing together little sample squares of brightly coloured prints. Mrs Dawes has since given her two pairs of her shoes (unfortunately high heeled) and a very pretty evening dress which Y is going to convert into a beach suit with shorts and skirt. Christine Wyatt gave her some powder puffs.

We had a rest after lunch and then I went round to the Armstrong’s room to see that everything was ready. They had very kindly suggested that we held the party in their room, and we jumped at the offer. Our room is much too crowded with permanent fixtures such as double beds etc., while they have more movable things like camp beds. Also, with Adrian and all his toys (so many of them!) and paraphernalia, and all our shelves, it is difficult to make the room look tidy.

The Armstrong’s have made their room look really quite attractive (Mr Yamashita was able to get quite a lot of their gear from their house for them) though they have no balcony. We collected all the china cups and bowls we could muster and also took along our two chairs. There were twenty one guests, or rather people at the party. They were: Mrs Minhinnick, Mrs Greenwood, Mrs Buckland, Mr & Mrs Pritchard and Pam, Jack and Vera Armstrong, Billy and Kitty Hackett, Mr Lammert, Harold and Elsie Bidwell, Isa Watson, Joan Walkden, Olive Burt, Tim and Marjorie Fortescue, Winnie Deane and our two selves.

((More about Yvonne's birthday party on the 6th ...)) The candles all lit, I’m glad to say, but Yvonne failed decidedly in her effort to blow them all out in one blow. Maudie presented her with the key - as her mother by proxy - and thereafter she asked everyone to sign their name on it as she apparently intends to keep it. Of course, we all sang, “She’s twenty one today……” after the key had been presented. Altogether it was a most successful party.

We went for a short stroll in the evening and ended our party meals that day by frying the remainder of the baked beans with some rice, tomato sauce and garlic and eating it on toast. This was accompanied by a mixture of lacovo-malt and cocoa.

After tea, Yvonne had spent some time taking round pieces of her cake to friends whom we had not been able to invite to the party (through lack of space). We had reached the Corra’s room and were standing talking to them, when someone knocked at their door and in walked Yamashita. He enquired if Mrs Charter were there, which surprised us quite a lot. Later Harold told us that he had come seeking her in our room, but hearing she was with the Corra’s he declined Harold’s offer to go and call her and said he would go himself as he knew where they lived. It was quite difficult to understand what he said as his English is limited (actually I believe it is far less limited than he cares to make out). He mentioned the words, “Letter from Miss Ho,” and, “Birthday,” and, “Telephone,” and presented Yvonne with a letter and a small package and asked her to sign the receipt.

These both came from Yvonne Ho with good wishes to Y and saying that she and Herbert would toast Y at 9 p.m. that evening. The package contained a small bottle of curry powder, though a much bigger parcel arrived next day. It really was sweet of Yvonne Ho; she and Herbert have been kindness itself; Y was very pleased. Yamashita allowed Y to scribble a short note in reply, which he undertook to deliver to Yvonne H., which was most kind of him. We concluded that Yvonne (who, we have found out, works in the parcels and letter department of the Japanese Internees Section, censoring them, we assume, before they are sent here) knew that the parcels would arrive in camp on August 6th but would not be delivered until the next day. We guess that she must have sent a small package and the note and telephoned Mr Yamashita to ask if they could be delivered that day. (I daresay she and Yam. have met at the HK Bank, where she works). At all events, Yam came in person, which was most flattering.

As a matter of fact, Yamashita really does seem to be doing his best for the internees here, and most people realise that. I think that before the war he must have worked in the HK Hotel hairdressing saloon for political reasons. All the staff there were Japanese - where most European men went for a haircut, including Army and Naval officers - and there they remained till the outbreak of war. Good old British! Still, I suppose they could not just have been turned out of the Colony before war was declared.

Next morning we went up the hill to collect the other parcel from ‘Yvonne and Mac’. It had on it ‘Many Happy Returns of the Day’.  It really was a lovely parcel. It contained: a Chinese dress for Y, which really suits her awfully well and which, she says is very cool to wear; (she has only worn it inside the building so far but with a little persuasion I think she will venture out in it), another delicious cake in a tin - like mine ; a tin of sugar (most welcome); a tin of ‘Jacobs Malt’ (which is something like Ovaltine); a tin of ‘white bean cheese’; a Chinese product which we have not yet sampled; a bag of soya beans and a big chunk of washing soap. Really a most well thought out and most generous parcel, especially in view of the depreciation of the HK dollar.

The Japanese suddenly announced, about a fortnight ago that the rate of exchange between the HK dollar and the Japanese Military yen was to be changed from 2:1 to 4:1. The Military yen (or ‘Black Yen’) is the currency introduced by the Japanese into conquered territory and is the currency in which their troops are paid. It has a purely ficticious value and is worth nothing at all in the world market (it will be worth nothing when the Japanese withdraw from here), but it is circulated in conquered territory at a fixed rate of exchange with the existing currency. Initially, the Japanese fixed this rate at 1 yen = 2 dollars. Now they have suddenly changed it to 1 yen = 4 dollars. Unfortunately Y and I have $30 left, all in HK currency, so its value was promptly reduced to $15! In some ways we were luckier than some people who had one or two hundred dollars. This has meant that although the high prices of goods in town have remained the same in yen, they have doubled themselves in dollars. 

The reason for this change is one for conjecture. If the Japanese hoped to lower the price of goods in yen to make their own living cheaper, they must be disappointed. Some suggest they are doing it to collect as many of the old HK notes as possible (which will be valid after the war) before retiring from HK so they can change them after the war!

Anyway, the price of things is now fabulous. A 2 lb tin of syrup costs 10/6 (pdv £23) for example. But I expect Yvonne and Herbert are being paid in yen, so they should not be so badly off. Quite a few people here have exchanged all their remaining dollars for yen in case the exchange jumps to 1:6 or 1:8; others who believe the Nips will be leaving HK soon are getting rid of all their yen notes which will be valueless when the Nips go. Y and I have so little money anyway that we don’t worry much! Money has really quite lost its value to us. If you really want a thing and have enough notes to buy it, well you do (more or less).

I have traced out this sketch plan of our Internment Camp ((the journal included a copy of the map)) from a plan that Dicky Richardson and Ray Hughes produced. It is very approximate and has no scale as they paced out the distances between buildings (where possible) and lined through two points onto some feature to get approximate positions. It really is quite an achievement. A rough scale could easily be calculated. This was the last of a series of 10 plans they prepared, indicating the positions of all the war graves in the internment camp (for future reference) and marking the position and identity of the dead. These include HK Volunteers; men from the Middlesex Regiment; the Royal Rifles of Canada; Indian and Chinese Volunteers and (I think) two Portuguese: civilians killed here during the fighting; V.A.D. nurses and medical staff (ruthlessly killed by Japanese soldiers); and some of the first internees to die in camp.

There are also three Japanese Regimental memorials. People who were here during the fighting say that attacking Japanese lost very heavily here indeed. They estimate their losses at something like 3,000 which would about equal the total British losses during the war here. Still, their losses generally are not nearly as heavy as they should have been - due, almost solely, to the incompetence of the Army HQ staff. There will have to be an enquiry into the conduct of this war here when all is over.

The other nine maps are to a larger scale and show the position of the graves and the names of the dead. The numbers of these maps are marked on this site plan, but I have omitted them here.

I was asked by Neilson ((maybe L R Nielson)) to make four copies of each map - which I did with a steel knitting needle and four sheets of carbon paper.

We have been shut up in our rooms most of today while a fairly mild typhoon has been raging without. The core of the typhoon passed over between 3 and 4 p.m. this afternoon, and now the wind is coming from exactly the opposite direction, blowing the teeming rain in clouds of spray. The cooks must have had a somewhat hectic time as the windows to the communal kitchens are no more than big holes in the wall with wire netting stretched over them. During the lull, Bert Dinsdale came and announced that the Charters’ $75 parcels had arrived, would we go and collect them at once. We were playing bridge with the Bidwells at the time, so we had to suspend the game while we went to collect. When we arrived at the ‘Social Hall’ (former Warders Club) we found that one only had arrived. We transferred the goods to our own sacks (thus saving ourselves $1). I will make a list of the things when the other parcel turns up. I don’t think we have done badly, though Yvonne seems a little disappointed, especially with the jam.

On July 29th Maudie Min went to town! In an ambulance!! It isn’t as bad as it sounds. She has had some tummy trouble and the doctor attending wanted an X-ray of her. The only way in which X-rays can be obtained is for the patients to go into town to the French Hospital (which is still being run by the Sisters).

Dr Selwyn-Clarke (Director of Medical Services) comes into camp generally two or three times per week, on either Mondays, Wednesdays, or Fridays (incidentally we hear the Japs have stopped these visits of his; I hope this is incorrect as he is doing splendid work for the internees).

Well, about Maudie and her visit to town. She met Sophie O’Dell at the hospital, also Mr Phillips of the HK Bank, and they had a grand old chin wag. She had been allowed to take some money out with her and with it Sophie was able to buy various things. (Maudie, of course, was not allowed to leave the hospital). She says people in town are having a somewhat difficult time as everything is so terribly expensive. In fact I wonder how some of them manage to exist at all.

A number of people came to see Maudie at the hospital and amongst them were Yvonne Ho and her sister. I wish we could have seen them. Yvonne said Herbert had managed to get the job of inspecting water metres - trust Herbert to land a plodding job like that! However, he is keeping himself on it which is something in these days.

Maudie arrived back at camp two days later. We almost forgot to ask her about the X-ray in the excitement of meeting her and listening to local news. However, the X-ray had shown quite a satisfactory state of affairs, so she need not worry. She came back like Santa Clause with a sack of good things. She gave Y and me two lovely new laid leghorn eggs, a bunch of bananas and a fresh pineapple! Pineapples were only 80 cents (pdv £2.25) each in town at that time - true they are normally about 10 cents or 15 cents but 80 cents is ridiculously cheap these days. If only the Japanese would send in some fresh fruit with our daily rations.

Actually bananas arrive every day. Mrs Kerr managed to obtain Yamashita’s permission to have them brought in and Helen Canaval redistributes them to a select few. I don’t know the daily number but I imagine it is in the nature of 100 to 150. Fortunately we were asked if we should like any and we said, “Yes please”. They varied in price from 10 to 15 cents each before the devaluation of the dollar; now, alas, they are 30 cents each (pdv 85p). Y and I share one between us each day and the others get one each or one between two according to the number Helen can let us have. She reserves quite a few for invalids or those that need extra food. The hospital gets a daily quota of bananas and all patients can have one - if they can pay for it!

Well, Maudie has had quite a break from the monotony of camp life, though she said that two days out was quite enough, meaning that if she had stayed any longer it would have unsettled her. What she wants more than anything else, of course, is a sight of Capt. Min. Still, Sophie, who manages to get a sight of him at the Argyle Street Camp in Kowloon, says he looks slim and very fit indeed.

Early in August ninety V.A.D. nurses and a few A.N.S nurses came into camp from St Theresa’s Hospital (opposite Argyll Street Camp) and Bowen Road Military Hospital. They were brought in lorries and all their luggage was assembled with them on the bowling green in front of the Warders Club and the ‘Dutch Block’. No one was allowed to meet them until all their baggage had been inspected. Yvonne, however, managed to get into the enclosure and greet Anne Muir and other of her friends. It was a sight in Stanley Camp to see all these white uniformed figures, and it really was quite an event. The gossiping that ensued!! When the baggage had been checked it was carted up to Block B10 in the St Stephens group by the police and the nurses were shown to their allocated quarters. What a difference to our early arrival in Stanley when we all struggled with our own baggage and scrambled to find accommodation for ourselves or our party!

However, these V.A.D.’s deserved a better fate than that, for they had been working in the hospitals from December to August and after the surrender they had had to work hard on very little food. They had to wash out baths and bathrooms, scrub floors, wash stained and dirty linen with no soap at all; in fact they had to do everything themselves including cooking, for there was no coolie labour or wash amahs to relieve the heavy drudgery - and this in the heat of a tropical summer.

I went along with Yvonne that evening and visited Anne Muir. Poor Anne; I felt so terribly sad when I saw her. She was very brave and kept amazingly cheerful, though you could see it was an ordeal for her to meet old friends whom she had last seen with Gordon. And she has now come to the scene of Gordon’s death; a sandy grave and a rough board with his name and three others, already half obliterated by the weather. And then, Mrs Black, Alison and Mrs Lyons. The ghastly part about it is that many of these men lost their lives after the surrender, when the loss of further life was sheer waste and furthered our cause not one iota: for Stanley Peninsula had been attacked by the Japanese from the land side, not from the sea, and our garrison there had been completely cut off and all lines of communication with GHQ were cut, so it was impossible to let them know of the surrender until the Japanese let a British dispatch rider through their lines with a white flag.

Anne ((Muir)) told of her experiences during the war where she had been a V.A.D. nurse at St Albert’s - normally a monastery run by Italian Fathers. They, according to Anne, proved to be most unsympathetic and in fact quite objectionable: it seems a pity they were not turned out of the Colony with the other Italian fathers when Italy entered the war in her stab - in – the - back manner. Anne had had news of Gordon’s death some days before the surrender and shortly after a seriously wounded Japanese officer was brought in and she had to help nurse him. She said it was difficult for her not to feel very bitter against the man, though of course she knew he was not personally responsible for Gordon’s death. Poor Anne, what an ordeal for her. She said that though he was seriously wounded he kept up his part of pretending to know no English. When he was thirsty he pointed to his lips and said, “Makee leetie wet please,” and yet a day or two later when he was almost dying he said in good English, “May I have a drink of water please?”  He seemed to trust those who were trying to save his life.  

When he died, they laid him out and covered him with a Japanese flag - apparently all Japanese soldiers wear their rolled up flag about their person. Anne said that when St Albert’s was taken (a day or two before the surrender) she peered out of the window at the advancing Japanese. They were very skillfully camouflaged, having their helmets and tunics covered with nets into which they had stuck sprays of leaves and small bushes which, on the green and bushy hillsides, made them quite indistinguishable from the rest of the landscape. They wore rubber soled boots (with a cleft for the big toe) which made their movements completely silent. Anne said that when they closed in on the hospital it looked as though the whole hillside was moving and these soldiers uttered shrill cries like shrill bird cries, and as they came nearer she could see their black beady eyes peering out from amongst the screens of foliage in their helmets. She said it was absolutely terrifying to see them. Then in a moment they were swarming all over the hospital.

The officer in charge of the regiment asked almost at once about the wounded Japanese officer and when he was shown him, laid out under his national flag he seemed satisfied at the treatment the dead man had received, and the hospital staff think it was chiefly due to this that they escaped the horrible experiences suffered by some of the V.A.D.’s in other hospitals. Anne said that some of the soldiers had even smeared their faces with mud. Everyone had to stand to attention while the hospital was examined, or searched, including every patient who was physically capable of standing. Mrs Pritchard and Pam were there too and the Blacks.

Pam ((Pritchard)) told me that later, after the surrender they were suddenly given notice to clear out of the hospital. I am not sure what happened to the patients; I suppose they were sent to Bowen Road Military Hospital. At all events, they were whisked off in open lorries which were driven down Magazine Gap Road and around the tortuous corners at such a pace that several of them were nearly flung over the side. They were taken to one of the piers and put on an open barge where they waited for some time. Finally they were towed across the harbour and landed near the vehicular ferry pier where they were guarded by sentries. They stood there for ages and were then told (to their great relief) that they were going to hospital No. 4. They had no idea of what was to happen to them, and not unnaturally were more than slightly worried. They did not know where hospital 4 was, but finally lorries arrived and conveyed them to St Theresa’s. The entrance gates were thrown open and in they trooped, some 60 of them, and the gates clanged shut behind them! And there they remained for the next six months with nothing more than a courtyard about the size of half a tennis court in which to take exercise. But they all kept pretty well, and having the officers from the Argyle Street Camp to nurse, and occasionally regulars and volunteers from the Sham Shui Po Camp to nurse, they felt they were doing a useful bit of work - which indeed they were.

They were just able to see the officers (Naval and Military) from the hospital and surreptitiously to wave to them. St Theresa’s is a new hospital run by the nuns of some convent, so they had, at least, a nice and well equipped place in which to work. Anne said that the hospital for the rankers at Sham Shui Po was staffed by military and naval orderlies. The troops and officers, being prisoners of war, were being paid a certain amount by the Japanese (according to international law) but apparently these orderlies were excluded from this as the Japanese said they were not fighting men. This evidently caused some bitterness amongst the orderlies (not unnaturally) but as a result the care they took of their patients was noticeable only by its absence - which doesn’t say much for the orderlies.

Anne said that when occasionally serious cases came in to St Theresa’s from Sham Shui Po, the men were simply filthy with neglect (it generally took three soakings in a bath before they were really clean) and their moral was very low. She said it was amazing how they improved and cheered up when they were nursed and taken care of by the European nurses. Now the V.A.D.’s have gone, all the hospitals for prisoners of war will be staffed by orderlies. I hope the officers will not fare badly as a result.

Surgeon Lt Comdr Jackson, who was the doctor on HMS Lama, (the Commodore’s headquarters and winter residence) was RNVR and junior to Surgeon Lt Comdr Page. However, the Japanese elected to put him in charge of St Theresa’s over Page. Surgeon Comdr Cleeve, who was in charge of the Naval Hospital (at Wanchai), went to Argyle Street Camp with the other officers. So now these two naval doctors will be left with a staff of orderlies - the usual arrangement in Naval or Military Hospitals except that there is usually a matron and some sisters.

The question of repatriation has again raised its head. The C.S. has been discussing the situation with Mr Odah, the Japanese officer who is apparently in charge of all internees, in the presence of Mr Zindle, the Swiss who is in charge of the International Red Cross in Hong Kong. It is evident that the Japanese are anxious to get all civilian internees out of HK (presumably because of the increasing difficulties in feeding us and they have asked Gimson if this can be arranged with the British authorities. Gimson said (according to the bulletin) that he would agree to the repatriation of women, children and the aged and infirm, but he could not, without receiving instructions from the Home Govt, agree to any general repatriation of civilians. Apparently the Japanese are not interested in any scheme for partial repatriation; they evidently want all or nothing. So I suppose Zindle will now try and contact the British Home Government through the I.R.C. and find out their attitude. Meanwhile we, the wretched pawns in the game, have to endure this wretched existence with what patience we can - we have now been interned for 8 months, 7 ½ of which have been spent in this camp.

At the beginning of our internment here I gave myself a date - the end of March - by which time I said we should know whether we were to be sent away from HK or whether the Japanese would improve our food rations and decide to keep us; for it was clear they would have to do one or the other or a lot of the internees would die of starvation. Well, by the beginning of April the food supplies did begin to improve and - here we still are!

Then, a month or two later I gave myself another date to work to. I said that by the end of September we should know which way the tide of the war in the Far East was going to set - whether it was likely to be a long drawn out affair which (I believe) will mean repatriation for some, if not all of the internees here (for it is clear the Jap’s do not want us in HK) or whether it is likely to be over fairly soon, in which case it is probable the Home Government would want us to remain here. If the Brit. Govt refuses to negotiate for any exchange of internees, I believe it will be an indication that they expect a fairly speedy end of the war here. It looks as though my second date may be correct too, though I am not so sanguine as to think we shall be out of, or in control of HK again by then. I hate the thought, however of spending Christmas here, and sincerely hope something will have happened. 

The weather this year has really been amazing. July was horribly wet and we have had a few other damp and sticky periods; but the whole summer monsoon has been exceptionally cool. Towards the end of last month, August, the wind blew from the N.E. for several days and we were quite glad to have a blanket over us at night - quite exceptional for HK in August. The wind is coming from the east now and the weather is still exceptionally cool. It is possible that Stanley may be the coolest part of the island, but I am sure the difference between here and Victoria would not be more than 2 or 3 degrees at the most. That, and the fact that we have had no serious epidemics so far are two of the things for which we can be devoutly thankful to God.

At the end of August the Japanese closed bungalows D, E and F. They gave us no reason for this but it is possible that (a) these bungalows are rather near Stanley village and can overlook it and (b) they may want them for the use of the Japanese gendarmerie, in which case they will move back the 24 strand double barbed wire fence to cut these off from the rest of the camp. It was very hard luck on the occupants of these bungalows, many of whom were PWD men. I suppose there were about 40 in each bungalow and they have now been divided up and pushed into other blocks wherever there is an available nook or cranny. Incidentally everything that was movable was taken out of them, including fixtures like sinks and lavatory basins! So apart from the walls and roof the Japanese won’t find much else.

About 6 weeks ago some 50 Shanghai residents and businessmen, who happened to be caught in HK by the outbreak of war, and who could guarantee to support themselves in Shanghai, were permitted to leave this camp. People in ‘C’ bungalow saw a small coaster steaming out a day or two later with a lot of little black dots standing along the rail and furiously waving. So we presume they actually got away.

((When the Japanese invaded the Shanghai International Settlement unopposed on 8th December 1941, they did not intern all foreign nationals initially but allowed them to continue to live in their houses under strict conditions. This is why Shanghai residents in Hong Kong were keen to get back to Shanghai. The Japanese eventually decided to intern all allied foreign nationals in February 1943.))

Then some 35 or 40 people, many of them Americans, who could prove they would be supported by neutrals and third nationals (Chinese) were allowed to leave this camp and go and live in town. I think conditions there and the food situation in general must be very difficult indeed.

Marjorie went into hospital again, about one week ago, with a temperature and suspected flu.

Yvonne was looking after Adrian and Kevin as she does for one afternoon in each week, and I was playing in my second game of ‘softball’, a game that has become quite popular here in camp. Adrian seemed rather quiet and a little off colour and during the game I noticed Yvonne had disappeared indoors with the two babies. Later she called me to say Adrian had been sick and would I help clear up the mess! Poor Y, he had been sick all over her and she had an awful time. I hastily cleared up the mess between innings. We took Adrian’s temperature and found it to be 101 degrees, so Tim, who had just returned from visiting Marjorie in hospital, went across for Talbot, their doctor, to come and have a look at Adrian! Well, Adrian was packed off to hospital for about 3 days and has since returned. He still looks a bit pale and has not quite fully recovered but there is nothing much the matter with him I think.

Marjorie still has a temperature. Talbot thinks it may be malaria, but Isa, who saw her today, thinks Marjorie may have jaundice: she is feeling rather depressed and worried about things in general.

How easy it is to be wise after the event; but how really foolish it was of Tim and Marjorie to have a baby in Hong Kong when things were so unsettled. That is so of most people who have babies here within the last two years. (The Hacketts have two now! And I must say that though it is hard luck on them to struggle with two babies in a tropical climate, with no servants and not even the ordinary domestic amenities, there seems a certain amount of poetic justice in the present situation!)  

It is not as though things were normal in HK, for many women with children and many young couples were separated against their wishes by the evacuation and it does not seem right that the women who remained behind, because they were doing an essential job, should choose this time to raise families; especially those whose husbands were not in the fighting forces. So I am afraid my sympathies for the Fortescues are not as strong as they would be in other circumstances. I might add too, that the occupants of our room suffer a good deal from the perpetual turmoil and chaos (to phrase it politely!) in which the Fortescue family lives. In fact if it were not for the fact that apart from the habits of living they are a very generous and likeable couple, our small community here would have broken up long ago. It would be ideal if they could find an amah’s room for themselves somewhere. I think they would prefer this too. Unfortunately amah’s rooms are very hard to come by.

When the Shanghai residents left here, Harold ((Bidwell)) asked a Capt. Reid (who knew Harold’s family) to go and see his mother and tell her what conditions here were like. He asked Reid to tell his mother that he and Elsie were quite prepared to stay here, but that if she was able to support them and would like them to come, would she write the necessary guarantee that the Japanese require.

Well, about a fortnight or three weeks ago, a telegram arrived from Shanghai for Harold saying, “Come home immediately, guarantee support for yourself and wife”, or words to that effect. Were they delighted! This was followed a few days later by a letter in which Mrs Bidwell had sent 150 yen ((pdv £1690)) for the passage to Shanghai. This cost her $1,500 Shanghai, the exchange there being 10:1. In pre war days it would have cost them about $150 for a first class passage; now they will have to pay $1500 for 2nd class if lucky - 3rd if not so lucky! Now they are just possessing their souls with what patience they can muster and hoping and praying a ship will shortly be leaving for Shanghai.

Apparently ships for Shanghai these days are very few and far between and when they do go the accommodation is quite inadequate for those who wish to get away. Apparently many Japanese families who came here from Canton are now getting away to the north (which is a good sign I think!) There are seven people in this camp who have been given guarantees from Shanghai and will be going with the first available ship. Lucky things!  Or they seem lucky. No one can forsee what the future holds in store for us.

It says in the paper today that 4,000 prisoners of war are to be engaged in enlarging Kai Tak aerodrome. Well, it will give them something to do and will be a change for them. Perhaps they will have it completed just in time for the British or American re-occupation! That would be a joke.

Another item is that the Japanese are erecting a shrine in HK and plan to open it on 25th December, the first anniversary of the fall of Hong Kong. Well, let’s hope their calculations will miss-carry again.

We note, with great satisfaction, that the newspaper has been silent for some time on the much written subject of anti-British feeling and demonstrations in India. I think that this Indian unrest must be dying down again, to the chagrin of the Japs.

For some days now, Chinese coolies under the surveillance of Japanese gendarmes have been moving sacks of rice from the ex British godowns in Stanley village, loading them onto trollies, pushing them to the pier or small jetty at the Prep School beach (where we first landed from our launch and where the American repatriatees embarked) and there loading them onto junks and barges which were towed off, presumably to the main harbour. These must be some of the few remaining old stocks of rice left. During these operations, all internees were forbidden to look down onto the beach from the cemetery and ‘C’ or ‘B’  bungalows - because the Japanese objected to being looked down upon!

((Documents are issued to act as replacements for the passports that John and Yvonne had lost during the upheaval of the fighting and later move to Stanley:))

That bay and beach has been the scene of several beastial atrocities. ((Charter calls it 'Prep School beach'. Modern maps call it 'St Stephen's beach', with Stanley Bay beyond.)) One, I did not witness, but have had it described to me by people who live in ‘C’ bungalow. About March there was a Japanese patrol boat that was stationed just off the Prep School beach, and it used to patrol the coast here presumably to stop any escapes from the camp by junks. They would not let junks approach anywhere near these beaches. One evening a junk was sailing out from Stanley Village. Whether it was too close to this peninsula or not I do not know, but the launch went out and fired upon the junk (setting fire to it and eventually sinking it). The Chinese launched the sampan (or sampans) that it carried and the crew scrambled into them to save their lives - for very few of them can swim. But the inexcorable crew of the launch then turned their machine guns on to the sampans, sinking them and leaving the dead or wounded Chinese struggling pitifully in the water until they drowned.

One evening, a little later, Yvonne and I were sitting on the rocks overlooking Tytam Bay, reading.  Presently a whole fleet of small fishing junks came sailing in with the faint evening breeze, and in the golden rays of the setting sun. They looked so picturesque and familiar, we might have taken our tea out and have been watching a typical local scene in the pre-war days. The leading junk, as it came under the lee of the land furled its sail and the black clothed figures started ‘yuloing’ along with the oars. One by one they followed suit until the whole little flotilla had crept into the bay in the gathering dusk and (I presume) had dropped anchor off Stanley beach. There must have been about 12 to 18 of them. I remember remarking to Yvonne, “I wonder if they are allowed in this bay.”  We collected our things and were returning to our block when we heard a sudden and then continuous fusillade of rifle shots. We never found out what happened, but early next morning, a still morning with hardly any breeze, we saw some 12 to 18 junks and sampans drifting out to sea on the ebb tide. They were spread out in a straight line and looked as though they were roped together. I saw no signs of life on them, but it seemed as though they were being steered out between the islands. They dropped down, passed the headland and slowly drifted from our sight and that was the last we saw of them. A rumour circulated that most of the men had been shot and the women were allowed to escape in the junks with their lives; but this was never confirmed and I don’t know for certain what happened.

I believe I mentioned some time ago that news had reached the camp that many Chinese were being rounded up and taken by junk to places along the coast where they were put ashore and left to fend for themselves. About 6 weeks ago, bus loads and bus loads of Chinese were brought in here to the prison. About 15 buses came with about 30 or more in each bus. One bus stopped outside the prison for some time and I watched the occupants. My heart was wrung by the looks of utter hopelessness, starvation and suffering upon their faces. Some were quite young - children almost - and there was one thin old woman with silver hair sitting and staring dumbly at the drizzling rain. They were all put into the prison, where they remained for about three nights (rumour had it, without food). One woman, apparently, had triplets born to her, poor thing. After that time, two big junks with a large launch (to tow them) and a smaller cutter then made their appearance in Stanley Bay and anchored off the Prep School beach.

Early in the morning these prisoners were marched down to the jetty and taken aboard the junks where they were kept under guard. All this time the weather was miserable; the skies overcast and the rain falling thinly but steadily nearly all day. I could see one fairly respectable looking woman standing at the stern of one of the junks, wearing a long scarlet top coat. These Chinese stood for hours, huddled together in the rain. There must have been scores of them under the hatches (these junks were of the big coastal variety which have considerable storage space for cargo in the holds and with living quarters in the stern) but I expect many of them preferred to stop in the rain above the hatches. These Chinese had been, apparently, rounded up from the streets at random. I hear that all the people in town with jobs, or means of support, are issued with passes; the story being that those who could not produce satisfactory passes to the gendarmerie, if they happened to be challenged or rounded up, were detained, as undesirables, for deportation. Apparently quite a number of fairly respectable people who had forgotten to carry their passes were deported in this way.

During the second day the junks were brought alongside the jetty for a little while, so it was possible that the prisoners were given some food. That evening the launch took them in tow and they put out to sea. But during the evening the wind increased in force, driving up the sea into big waves. It had calmed down again by the morning, but the launch had evidently found it to be too rough for towing purposes and by daybreak the dismal ships were back again at anchor. What floating hells of abject misery they must have been.

During the morning the dead in these stinking hulks of abomination were ruthlessly tossed overboard. I saw three dreary grey corpses floating in the water near the junks. One of the bungalow people said that in one or two cases the wretched prisoners were not quite dead before they were flung over, but they were so thin and emaciated that they could offer nothing but the feeblest resistance. That afternoon the grim squadron again put out to sea and this time, thank God, they went clear away. How many more corpses went overboard in the open sea I cannot say, but I am certain there must have been many. How many ever survived is problematical, but they must have been very few.

By the next morning there were two corpses on the beach; during that night the wind increased again and four more bodies were washed up, one was stark naked and ghastly white. By the next day it had turned black, and curiously enough it looked less repulsive like that. By this time it was an effort to go up and visit Maudie in ‘C’ bungalow. Poor things, it must have been simply horrible for them. After a day or so the stench that arose from the beach was horrible, but fortunately for the inmates of ‘C’ bungalow it came gradually and they never noticed it. Nine more corpses were washed up on the rocky shore towards Stanley Village. One morning, a gang of Chinese coolies was sent down to the beach, where they dug two somewhat shallow graves and buried the ghastly relics of this outrageous episode. Once more we breathed free air.

It is surprising how one becomes hardened to horrible scenes like that. I am sure that had it not been for the sights of mangled humanity I had endeavoured to rescue during the war, this grim spectacle would have given me nightmares for some time.