John Charter's wartime journal: View pages

Curiously enough, after receiving these letters, I passed through a period of most frightful depression. No doubt there were numerous contributory causes, many of them more or less subconscious – such as living all this time in such unbelievably overcrowded conditions; perpetual queueing for everything – meals, hot water, bath rooms etc. – all things we have grown more or less used to but which, (I find) in spite of ‘British fortitude’, ‘Cheerfulness in adversity’ and all the other admirable maxims, do, at times, fill my soul with weariness and my heart with a great longing to be out of this place. The worsening food situation probably had something to do with it too; but as I say, curiously it was these letters that made me think more vividly of home and our families and friends, and made me begin to wonder if we should ever see them again.

Now thank God, I have recovered and am prepared again to plod along with this state of existence – I think we shall be here for about another year, as repatriation arrangements don’t appear to be getting anywhere. One cannot expect the Home Government to affect an un-favourable exchange of prisoners or assign ships which are urgently needed for other purposes, just for the sake of a small section of the community. What makes the situation so hard to bear is the uncertainty of everything – we know nothing! We don’t know, of course, how long we are to be here – if only we could look to a definite date, what a help it would be.

I have been overhearing a casual conversation in the hall of our flat, between two women:

“Hello, my Dear, how are you?”

“Oh I’m pretty well thanks, lost a bit of weight lately”.

“Have you, so have I. Aren’t you sick to death of this place? I am”. 

“Yes I am too; but you know, I believe we are going to get out of it quite soon”.

“Do you really? Honestly and truly?” 

“Yes I really do. I think arrangements have been finally made but the Japs are not going to tell us anything about it until just before the ships arrive – they had so much trouble about money etc. with the few Americans when they left, so they are not going to give us a chance to do the same. I heard that Anthony Eden referred, in the House the other day, to British war Prisoners in the Far East and said that 6 ships had been selected to come here and take us away”.

“Did you really? As a matter of fact I heard a ship was due to arrive here on 26th or 27th of this month to take off the Canadians and the aged and infirm”.

“Yes, I heard that too”.

“My Dear, how marvellous. So you really think we shouldn’t be here much longer?”

“Yes I really do. I think we shall be suddenly whisked off when we are least expecting it”. 

“That sounds too wonderful for words! My Dear, you’ve cheered me up no end.” 

“Good, I’m feeling most optimistic these days”. Well, I must go and wash these sheets”.   

All the camp over, these conversations of mutual comfort and encouragement take place – and good they are, within reason, for the camp morale, though doubtless there is no truth in them whatever.

To return to my former theme: we don’t know how long we shall be here; we don’t know whether we shall get another allowance – we received at the beginning of January MY20 and a second gift of MY25 each at the beginning of March, we were then told officially the Brit Govt had paid another MY25 each (pdv £250) to Tokyo for April, so it seemed as if it were to be a monthly allowance, which was grand. Now we have been officially informed that Tokyo refuses to give us these allowances as Japanese internees in Australia are not receiving allowances – there must be some other reason behind this, for perhap the Japanese Government has not attempted to send money to their nationals in Australia because these Japanese internees are very much looked after and don’t need to have their food rations supplemented by money in order to buy more.

The popular suggestion is that the Japanese Government is trying to use the unpleasant situation here as a lever to persuade the Brit Govt to an exchange of prisoners at an exchange ratio greatly in favour of the Japs. I am inclined to think the whole thing (or the chief consideration) is due to the shipping difficulties. I don’t think the Home Govt can be worrying about the idea of keeping British subjects here and a representative of HM Government for the sake of maintaining this place as a British Colony after the war. That question would have to be settled with the other reparation questions; though some people like to quote the saying that,“Possession is nine tenths of the law”. 

Another of the uncertain quantities here is the food (clothing to a lesser degree). The BCC has again made strong representations to the Japanese about the food situation. 

During March Mr Hatori succeeded to the position of officer in charge of Internment Camps in HK and the New Territories, thitherto held by Mr Odah (or Otah). Mr Hatori had been an internee in an Australian camp, where he admitted quite freely to the BCC he had, with the other internees, received excellent treatment and accommodation and he was evidently taken aback by the conditions he found here. He was truly appalled by the conditions in the hospital where, it was made known to him, that the only supplies received from the Japanese during these 15 months of internment were 200 tablets of an anti-dysentry drug that had been given as a personal gift by a sympathetic Japanese doctor who had visited the hospital earlier on and realised the difficulties. Other supplies were brought in with the doctors and nurses from the British hospitals they had vacated, or which were in this hospital before the war. Dr Selwyn-Clarke had managed to send in some stuff from the French Convent Hospital etc.

This Tweed Bay Hospital is really a block of Indian Warders’ quarters which was converted into a temporary Red Cross hospital for this area just before the war. It is by no means an ideal hospital, but as it housed single men there are some big rooms – dormitories, dining rooms etc. – which make suitable wards. It has 3 stories and the nurses occupy the top floor (24 of them in one large dormitory, poor things! Night nurses, as well as day nurses.)

This plan I have drawn is not to scale and the wards are too attenuated; they should be a little wider. On the ground floor the right hand ward is divided into the office and stores. In the middle is a ward, at the left end is the operating theatre and medical stores. All the first floor is wards. The kitchen and dispensary block is one story high. One real tragedy has occurred at the hospital through lack of equipment, but of that, anon.

Mr Hatori was taken round the camp and shown the inadequate bathroom and lavatory accommodation in some of the blocks, particularly Block 10. It was also pointed out to him that except for the lavatory fittings in the Married Quarters blocks and the Bungalows, the WC’s in all the other blocks were of the native type, sunk into the floor, a type never used by Europeans normally. He asked what arrangements we had for heating our bath water in winter and was told that no-one had had a hot bath since coming into camp! This shocked Mr Hatori, for the Japanese are very particular about personal cleanliness. Later he suggested to Mr Gimson that better accommodation could be found for some of the women in town, but the C.S. decided it would be better for their health if they remained at Stanley than if they went into town where they would be shut up in Chinese hotels. But Mr Hatori said that it was not possible to extend the limits of the camp to include other buildings (Jap army regulations I suppose) though he promised that in the case of an epidemic the Prep School should be made available as an Isolation Hospital. He also promised that in future the camp rations should be supplied on a weight basis and not as hitherto, on a price basis – prices of commodities are continually rising and consequently our rations were continually falling.

Soon after this a consignment of ‘ration biscuits’ came in, enough for about 1 lb per person. These biscuits were made before the war by Lane Crawfords Ltd, as a result of research conducted by Dr Herklotts. Normally, the residue of peanuts after they had been heated and crushed by machinery for peanut oil, quickly went sour and was used only for pig and cattle food. This residue however, contained excellent food value and vitamins B and C and the anti Beri Beri vitamin, whatever vitamin that is, (Beri Beri being prevalent amongst a large rice eating population when, through poverty usually, an unbalanced diet is consumed. It starts with swelling of the legs and causes weakening of the heart and death. There were many mild cases of Beri Beri in the camp last year; both Isa and Mr Lammert had swollen ankles).

Dr Harklotts found that by using the residue straight away and mixing it with other ingredients, a very nourishing and sustaining biscuit could be produced – practically from waste products. So in HK the manufacture of these siege biscuits was started on a big scale. With the capitulation of the Colony, these stores of biscuits, along with all the other food supplies, fell to the Japanese and no doubt much of the stuff was shipped away for Jap army supplies. However, there was, apparently, one godown full of these biscuits merely stacked in sacks, as there had not been time to pack them in cases. These, even after one year, were still very hard, but most of the biscuits bore signs of the presence of little worms, weavils etc. We brushed each biscuit with an old tooth brush and then baked them again! And they taste very good. No one turns a hair at weavils and worms in flour, oats and rice etc. these days.

The other day I de-weaviled 3 desert spoon fulls of oats for porridge and for curiosity I counted the weavils. They totaled 108! That was not including the worms which, I believe amounted to about 12. The other signs of Mr Hatori’s activities on our behalf, is the increase of the flour ration again to 4.22 oz per head per day. The rice has been cut from 12 oz to 8 oz, but that was unimportant as we were getting more rice than we could eat.

Vegetables (including the unfailing small supply of sweet potatoes) amount to just over 6 oz per day; meat and fish amount to about 2.5 oz per day, but from this the weight of the bones, heads, tails etc. have to be subtracted. The supply of salt and sugar is still the same i.e. 3 oz of each per week. Dr Deane-Smith, the dietetic expert, submitted to the Japanese charts showing the graph of necessary and normal food for Europeans against that of food supplied by the Japs. In his report he stated that for normal restful living, a diet producing 2,400 calories per day was a minimum requisite and that for manual labourers 3,000 calories were necessary; he showed that at no time during internment had the Japanese supplies brought anything like this minimum requirement and that had it not been for the food sent by the British Red Cross there would undoubtably, by now, have been many deaths from malnutrition and slow starvation. Now, he said, the Red Cross supplies had come to an end and unless something else was forthcoming to take their place the situation would again become critical. As it is there is cause for concern, especially amongst the children and old people, bad teeth and eyes and puny development amongst children. There are 5 cases of blindness in camp due entirely to vitamin deficiency. George Merriman, and Hyatt ((probably I C Highet)) of the bank, are two cases that I know of personally. They are not completely blind; they can see people and objects at the edge of their field of vision, but the centre is a blank and they cannot therefore see anything they look at directly.

Mr Hatori was asked if we could be supplied with Soya beans, but he replied that these came from the north of China and there was no available transport for the purpose. He was then presented by Mr Gimson with a petition, bearing nearly 2,000 signatures, stating that although internees here realised the difficulties of supplying this Colony with food in war time and were sure the Japanese had no intention of deliberately starving the internees here, yet the food situation was becoming acute and if they (the Japs) were unable to improve the situation, would they make it possible for the British Govt to send food and relief as it was known they were in a position to do so and were awaiting the opportunity. (It is known that further British Red Cross supplies are ready and waiting at Lourenco Marques). This petition was very well worded and was aimed at a Japanese weakness, (typical throughout all nations of the Far East) that of ‘losing face’. They are far more likely to do or not do a thing for the sake of gaining or fear of losing face than because they have been cajoled, threatened, entreated or reasoned with. Whether this petition will bear fruit we do not know.

Mr Hatori has let Mr Zindel, the Swiss Red Cross representative here, have Dr Deane–Smith’s charts. These were forwarded to Geneva and Zindel has reported that they have been received and that Geneva has asked for further particulars. Poor Mr Hatori; his is a hard nut to crack. He has stated that the internees in Stanley are already better off than third nationals in town (Chinese and neutrals). It makes one feel very sorry for the poor Chinese coolie class who must be finding mere existence an extremely difficult affair.

Many happy returns of the day, Betty. How lovely England will be looking at this time of the year. May and June are usually wet and humid months in Hong Kong; in fact the weather generally breaks up halfway through February and really heavy rain falls during May and June, and from thence gradually slackens off, very little falling between September or October and February – this,  from my memory of things. July and August and September are the chief typhoon months.

This year the weather has been exceptional, hardly any rain since last August. We had a couple of wet spells in early and late March, lasting about a week each, but in between and since we have had cloudless blue skies. The weather at present is delightful, hot and dry with a bright sun but a cool breeze from the North East. The day temperature rises to about 80’ and the nights are pleasant, a sheet or light blanket being necessary. The Japanese allowed bathing again at the beginning of this month. Y and I have not yet been down to the beach. I wonder if there is likely to be a water shortage in Hong Kong.

Of the MY100 that we managed to get changed, we asked that MY30 should be kept in town and that lard, milk powder and rolled oats should be bought with the money. The other MY70 came in (minus 5% commission to the chap that brought it in – whoever he was). After a week or two had passed, and no parcel made its appearance, we heaved a sigh and resigned ourselves to our fate, believing that the money had somehow gone into the wrong pocket. However, our kind friend made urgent enquiries and discovered that the person who was sending in the stuff had sent it to me at first to Argyle Street Officers camp, then Sham Shui Po. On both occasions it was returned! And it finally reached us here! At our rate of exchange (1 MY = 1$ USA Gold) this MY30 represented about 6.15.0 English money (pdv £320) I don’t know if either of us had formed an idea of how much we should get for this sum; we had asked for MY10 worth of each of the three commodities. I must say I was a little shocked at the smallness of the parcel when it arrived. We received about 1 ¼ lbs of milk powder (full cream and quite good stuff), 2 lbs lard and about 5 lbs rolled oats! Milk powder at about 2 pounds (pdv £90) per lb; Lard at 1 pound (pdv £45) per lb and oats at 8/- per lb (rather weavilly to boot). With the remainder of our money we bought stuff at the canteen. We felt it wisest to buy as much tinned food as we could – in other words, invest our money in tinned food; for prices are continually rising and as yet there is no news of another food ship.

We bought more than a dozen 15 oz tins of pilchards @ Y3.10 per tin (14/- per tin, (pdv £33) or almost 1/- per oz). We also bought a sealed tin of lard and some cheaper pork fat rendered down which, though not so refined, tasted very good on toast or bread. These again cost about 1 pound and 15/- per lb. I have not the least idea what the Military Yen is worth now and these prices are computed on the rate of exchange I was given in buying MY100. 

The only other guide is pre-war prices: HK$1 = 1/3.  The current rate is MY1 = $4, so if the HK$ is still reckoned at 1/3 (which it cannot be) the MY must be 5/-.( pdv £11)  We also bought 4 lb of soya beans from the canteen at Y1.15 per lb; 4 lbs dried peas at Y1.45 and 4 lbs onions at Y1 per lb. We also bought as much sugar as we could at Y1.60 per lb (pdv £17). We are limited to ½ lb sugar and ½ lb wong tong (the unrefined residue left after the refining process of ordinary sugar) per time. We now take it in turn to go to the canteen and everyone gets a ticket once in approximately 3 weeks. Beans and peas, Dr Herklotts says, contains quite a good percentage of protein and are a good buy. We bought 2 eggs each per week at from 35 to 40 sen per egg (pdv £5) and 2 bananas each at 7 ½ sen. Chinese bacon was brought in by the canteen, but we could not afford to buy any of it. We used to smoke 3 cigarettes per day each, but have now reduced it to 2 per day. We will soon have to do without smoking again. Some time ago I bought some Chinese tobacco from the canteen for my pipe. It is nothing to write home about but it is certainly less poisonous than an earlier lot I bought – and managed to resell.

Y and I between us make a 12 oz tin (335 grams – 6 meals) of corned beef or mutton last for 3 days, a 15 oz tin of fish lasts for 4 days. With this arrangement our tinned food will last until the end of July – by which time, surely something else will have turned up. At the moment we have about Y2.40 left!

On Saturday, 24th April, we helped Maudie to move house. Up till then she had lived in ‘C’ bungalow in a very crowded room – 9 women to start with. By the time Maudie moved, there were only 6, and she left 5. No extra person is being moved in as the room is still pretty full with 5. Maudie has moved to Block 10 and now lives on the top floor with Vera Murrel and Mrs Rudolph. The latter is in hospital, undergoing a lengthy treatment for something or other, and is unlikely to be in the room for sometime. Maudie sacrifices the garden, and the fine view from ‘C’ bungalow, but gains, in exchange, the blessed seclusion and privacy that is so entirely lacking in this place. It is no exaggeration to say that the only place in which you can be sure of being alone is the lavatory! And then there is usually someone else rattling at the door!

There is quite a nice view from Maudie’s window if you stand at one side and look past Block 9. Vera is out a lot of the time and Maudie often has the room entirely to herself. Being on top of the hill that forms the narrow neck of Stanley Peninsula, Blocks 8 and 9 get a pleasant breeze in summer, though it is rather cold and blustery in winter. As they have a hot plate in their room, Maudie has very generously lent us hers. This is much nicer for us, for, though Isa and Mr Lammert lent us their hot plate very readily, we often felt we could not boil things like peas, and beans for any length of time.

I may have mentioned our disasterous efforts to make a hot plate. I cut the necessary grooves in a thick and flat ‘Canton Tile’ (which are used for insulating purposes on these Married Quarters roofs) and then for the large sum of MY10 (pdv £100) we bought a length of element coil and I fitted it and tried it out. The coil burnt out after 5 minutes! Some canny Chinese had evidently got some steel wire, wound it into a coil and sold it as element wire. The chap who supplied it to me had got it in ‘under the fence’ and though he sent it back and endeavoured to get it changed he was not successful. He had bought some 10 strands of this stuff for the purpose of making hot plates; he had sold 2 pieces (and when he sold them he said as far as he knew it was good stuff but if I took it I should have to take all risks) and was left with 8 more dud pieces – representing a loss of MY80. Most of the other element wire that has been smuggled into camp however, is quite good stuff, and as hot plates are so essential to have in this place we think, at the risk of being stung again, we would do well to try and buy another element if we ever get another allowance. This is made additionally necessary because of some quite exciting domestic news we heard the other day. 

About 3 days ago Professor Forster of HK University came to see me and to tell me that for some time now the Education Committee in camp has been trying to push forward the idea of a Technical School for some of the older boys. This Technical School has in fact, been established, but the Education Committee is anxious to carry the idea further and turn it into a semi boarding school type of school. With this object in view they applied through the BCC, to the Japanese for permission to use Block 7 (the old Chinese master’s house attached to the Prep School) as a hostel for the older boys. The boys in question between the ages of about 16 and 18, have been approached and some 11 of the 15 or 16 of them have expressed their willingness to move into such a school. The others do not wish to move presumably for family reasons. It is probable that if we are given the use of this block (which is outside the barbed wire fence), we should be given passes to enter the camp, but the Japanese may refuse to give permission for other people to visit the block. This, I believe, is the reason why the idea of holding the Technical School in the block has fallen through – for those not living in the block could not attend. But that part of the scheme was relatively unimportant, the boarding school part of it being the real idea; and it was found that many of the older boys still at school are quite keen on the idea, so the requisite number of boys could be made up.

I have not discussed the scheme to any extent with Prof. Forster, but I gather that the Education Committee feel that such a hostel would do these older boys a lot of good; it would get them away from their families and make them more self reliant; it would enable a mild form of discipline to be administered – a very  difficult thing in the main camp; it would get them away from the  overwhelming majority of adults amongst whom they live at present and enable them to develop their own characteristics more easily and encourage a greater amount of initiative and self expression amongst the more shy and sensitive. Also it would be much easier to control them and direct them in different (morally and mentally) ways than if they were spread all over the camp as at present. It would, of course, be necessary to have a small staff of resident adults living there, and, having briefly explained the scheme, Prof. Forster said they hoped perhaps Mr Dormer, Prof. Brown, Dr Loam (a young New Zealand medical missionary) as M.O. would consent to go, and the Committee was anxious to have a married couple there and they wondered if Yvonne and I would consider it.  He showed me a rough plan of the building – there are some big rooms which would serve as dormitories and some smaller rooms which would be used by the staff: Y and I would have a small room to ourselves!

Being somewhat cautious by nature, I did not accept Prof. Forster’s proposal straight away, but said I would talk it over with Y. However, it did not take us long to decide and next morning we went to Mr F to say we would be glad to go. Think of it; a room entirely to ourselves!  I think we would have moved anywhere in the camp, by now, for such a reason – and this is not because we quarrel with the others in our room, in fact we all really get on very well together. But to be on our own and in addition, to be away from the main body of the camp, living in that isolated little block over looking the bay and the islands to the south and west, really sounds too good to be true. In addition it would give us a definite job and an interest here which would make time pass more quickly. We should have our own garden too. What our duties would be I do not yet know.

At present Y is the only woman who has been asked to go. Dr Loam has spoken to me about it. At present he lives in the M.O.s’ mess in the old Leprosarium (B/A) and is a little loathe to leave it as, there, he keeps in touch with the medical part of his work; with the discussions, theories, cases etc. that emanate from the other M.O.s and their dealings at the hospital. He would like to visit the hostel each day in case anyone needs attention. I think, however, that isolated as we should be, it is essential to have a resident M.O. in case of emergency, and if he is not prepared to live there I would suggest Dr Thomas and his wife be asked to consider it. Dr Thomas is another young medical missionary – his sphere of work was at Cheung Chau, in Hong Kong waters – and he was a member of the HK Football Club, where I got to know him. I think too it would be better to have two women than one all on her own, and I should think Mrs Thomas and Y are much the same age. Y’s one misgiving is that, not being a very keen or experienced cook, she will be expected to superintend the cooking! However, it is quite likely that the Jap military authorities will refuse permission and the whole scheme will then fall through. Prof. Forster is hopeful though, and says Mr Hatori seems to be quite in favour of it.

When, in the early days of this camp, the bachelors, then occupying the Prep School and Masters’ House, were ordered to move, they stripped the buildings of everything movable – electric wiring, basins, brackets  etc.  This would have to be put right, of course, and cooking facilities installed before we could move in. Well, it gives us something to think about at present and perhaps we shall be repatriated before we actually have time to move in! In that case we would not mind at all.

On Saturday 8th of this month, the remaining British in town were all brought into camp. These included people like Dr Selwyne-Clarke and family and other Govt medical officers who had been carrying on with their duties at the French Convent; Sanitary Inspectors; Gas works officials, Dairy Farm officers etc. There were 19 of them altogether. (I presume this includes Dr Mackie, his Chinese concubine and their baby! – a disgraceful fact. Mrs Mackie was evacuated to Australia nearly three years ago. What a fool he is; he is a Govt Doctor – a malariologist – and must have ruined his career as a civil servant).

Dr Selwyn-Clarke was allowed to bring in his wife and child and then he was taken away under open arrest. There have been a number of arrests recently and we understand, from these lately interned people, that there is a big spy purge in progress in town and that is really the reason that they have been interned. Four weeks ago last Tuesday I walked downstairs and met some excited person who said, “The Japs have just brought Sir Vandeleur Grayburn (Head of Hong Kong Bank) to the prison”. 

I ran to the fence and sure enough, there were two Europeans, standing handcuffed, one of them in a shirt and grey shorts certainly looking very much like Sir Vandeleur, and the other in long trousers and a shirt.

I was told the other was Streatfield, number 2 of the HK Bank, but I do not know him. That evening there was a great deal of discussion about the identity of these two and speculation as to the cause of their presence there. A day or two later we could see these two Europeans being paraded up and down at the side of the second or third prison block; they were in the company of some thirty Chinese prisoners and were guarded by Indian guards. All the prisoners were barefoot and Sir Vandeleur was allowed to walk up and down by himself on the grass verge. One or two pairs of binoculars were surreptitiously produced and from his walk, build and what could be seen of his face beneath his whiskers, it was quite definitely established that it was Sir Vandeleur, also Streatfield. This confirmed a rumour heard in camp about a fortnight earlier that these two had been arrested, though for what reason no one knew precisely. Fancy Sir Vandeleur Grayburn, the No. 1 of the Hong Kong and Shanghai Banking Corporation, the largest financial concern in the entire East and indeed, one of the five biggest banks in the British Empire, a common prisoner here in Stanley Gaol, walking about in a shirt and pair of grey shorts – Sir Vandeleur, generally known as the “uncrowned king of Hong Kong”.

Dr Talbot had been in to town a month or so ago for the purpose of having an x-ray at the French Convent. He stayed in some time and on his journey back, the ambulance and his person were searched and in addition to the enormous amount of goods he had purchased and was bringing back for various internees, he was discovered to be carrying a large sum of money. All this was taken from him and a day or so later he was summoned up the hill to be examined. He explained the goods were for people in camp and these were all duly returned. He said that the money had been given to him by the Americans when they left (he had acted as one of the Medical Officers for the American blocks when they were here), though why he should have it with him on his return to camp I do not know – he probably said he had been given notes of big denominations, $100 and $500 and that he had taken them into town to try and get a favourable exchange. At all events the money was confiscated and Dr Talbot returned to camp, a reticent but relatively cheerful person, to complete his convalescence from his previous appendicitis operation.

Then, 10 days or so after Sir Vandeleur was put in prison, Dr Talbot was again called up for trial one morning and was taken straight away to prison. Now he too parades up and down inside the prison wall, twice a day for exercise. His mother, who is a Polish Jewess I believe, and doesn’t speak a great deal of English, nor knows any people in camp, was in a terrible state, poor thing. She comes along during the prisoners parade time and stands on the terrace so that her son can see her and occasionally, as he approaches in their direction, he raises his hand and scratches the back of his neck – the nearest he can get to a sign of recognition. No one is supposed to look down into the prison area but it is difficult not to. 

Rumour has it that Talbot is somehow concerned with Grayburn and Streatfield and the money he brought in was some that Grayburn had managed to get to him and that he was bringing it in for a specific purpose. Another rumour says that Grayburn had been imprisoned because he has done something to upset the Japanese credit or the HK currency here. No one I think really knows the reason.

Now we hear that Dr Selwyne-Clarke has also been arrested. I don’t know if he has had any connection with this money business.

In the early days of these HK camps he did a great deal for the prisoners. He managed to send in help and supplies where the Japanese would not lift a finger. As director of Medical Services he was of use to the Japanese in maintaining to a small extent, the functioning of medical services in the Colony and also, until the official Red Cross Representative arrived, the Japs found it useful for him to act unofficially in that kind of capacity. At all events, it was lucky for us that they allowed him to remain outside. Now I think the only British remaining in town are the HK Bank people. There cannot be very many of them.

What exactly they are doing I do not know. They have been signing and issuing HK Bank notes for the Japanese; that we know, though as all the bullion here was transferred to the bank of England before the war, the issue of these notes is doing no more than inflate the local currency.

The ‘HK News’ the other day complained that the British Government had declared the HK dollar valueless. This was instanced as another way in which Britain abandoned to their fate it’s former allies and subjects. Actually, I wonder why the British Government took so long to call in the HK Dollar and declare it valueless. I believe it had a wide circulation throughout the East and perhaps its early recall would have upset credit in other British centres.

There is still no sign of any further allowances. Last night, alas, we finished our last spoonful of IRC cocoa, so we shall now have to content ourselves with milkless tea or cold water for supper. Still, it was very nice to have it during the cold months of winter and we made it last quite well (considering we had thought we should be out of here by the end of March!)

I hear again that all arrangements for repatriation are complete; that we are to go on neutral ships with a Japanese and British representative on board each ship: and that the Australians are to be the first to go, the date being the middle of next month. I wonder!

The paper today is interesting. It admits the cessation of fighting in the North African campaign, claiming that the German and Italian troops had gained their objective, namely to tie up large American and British forces while the fortifications in Germany and Italy were completed. The paper now proudly boasts that (to use their words) “…the entire Europe is now one solid mass of fortifications”. Such a statement is really laughable for it is testament to an admission that Germany and it’s allies are feverishly preparing themselves to fight a defensive war – and that is a thing that Germany cannot afford to do.

The paper also announces that fierce fighting has again broken out in New Guinea between American and Japanese troops; that a strong American force has landed in Ottu (or Cisea) Island in the Aleution group; that Canton was bombed on May 8th (we heard, unofficially, by 100 planes and that much damage and many casualties were sustained by the Japanese military establishments and personnel). Also that Admiral Halsey and General MacArthur, Chiefs of the S. Pacific Land and Sea forces had met in Australia to confer on the condition of affairs in the Pacific. All this seems to be indicative of the outbreak or the pending outbreak of fresh offensives out here.

Recently two black-outs were ordered here and I presume, in town too. The first was on April 24th and lasted 4 nights, and the second was on Saturday May 8th and lasted another 4 nights. During the days of the first black-out there were considerable shipping movements: a large ship carrying navigation lights came in past the Lammas at about 10 p.m.  We presumed that as it was carrying lights it must be a hospital ship. Quite a number of hospital ships come in and out of here; why, I do not know, for there is no fighting going on in this neighborhood as far as we know. Another day a convoy of 6 tramps went out (going south) escorted by a destroyer.

The second black-out I imagine was because of the bombing of Canton. The Japanese are very much stricter about the black-out now and we must not show the least chink of light: so we have to hang heavy blankets over the windows, as well as shading the light, and this makes the room terribly hot and stuffy. Many people prefer to have the windows open and sit in the dark. It will be impossible to black-out the windows in the really hot weather.

Recently there have been two tragic deaths in camp. The first, which occurred in the second week of April, was that of the Puisne Judge, Justice P.E.F. Cressal. He died of paralysis which started in his leg one day when he was leaning over the balcony to hang up a shirt he had washed. He was taken to the hospital where it attacked his spine. He was critically ill for a week or so but the medical people thought he would pull through. However, one night the paralysis spread up his neck to his head and it killed him. I heard first that the paralysis was due to some virus and then that it was due to alcoholic poisoning. This second cause was refuted later, though Cressal was a heavy drinker. However, I don’t know how he could have got hold of so much alcohol in this camp, though I know some of the inferior local stuff does come in by devious ways. Poor Cressal, he was intensely unhappy here because he felt he was very unpopular and was ignored by most people. He certainly hated Hong Kong and to end his life in this way in this miserable camp was very tragic.  I must say I was no admirer of his and avoided him as much as did anyone else, but I must say I wish his life had ended more happily. How sad for his wife and family too. They never reached Hong Kong.

The other death was even more tragic. It occurred a week or two later and the victim was Mrs Teddy Evans.

Her husband was a Naval Dockyard Officer and is at present in Argyle Street Camp. Mrs Evans had a very cheerful nature and was well known and quite a favourite in the ‘Optimists’ shows, the variety concerts arranged by Cyril Brown – a pierrot and pierrette troupe. Dr Smalley had advised her to undergo an operation, though it was by no means urgent; but this camp seemed to be a good place in which to get it over. So one morning she walked along to the hospital carrying her own kit; and that evening we heard she had died under the anaesthetic – chloroform – the operation itself having proceeded quite satifactorily.  Death could easily have been averted if a cylinder of oxygen had been available, but there was none in the hospital at all. This is the second death that has occurred through lack of oxygen, and on each occasion Dr Smalley was the unfortunate surgeon. A public enquiry was held afterwards – at Dr Smalleys request – and he was cleared of all blame.

The Japanese have been repeatedly asked for oxygen and more suitable anaesthetics. Apparently the anaesthetics that remain are of the type of chloroform which, I gather, are dangerous for people with heart weakness. The real tragedy in the case of Mrs Evans was that the operation was not essential at that time, and it really is awful to think of her cheerfully walking along to hospital that morning, a hale and hearty person, to die that afternoon; a life literally thrown away. Death during war is often equally, if not more sudden and unnecessary, but it is not so unexpected and not so easily avoided. Very strong protests and representations were made to the Japanese after this tragedy and I hope they will have the desired effect.

As a workman in this camp I have just been transferred from the wood chopping to the trench digging gang.These trenches are dug on the hillside or other suitable (or possible) plots of ground in camp for the purpose of burying rubbish. To pick and shovel at this time of year in the sun, when the temperature in the shade is up in the eighties and later will be in the nineties, is quite a tax on one’s strength, especially on our lowered diet. So trench diggers are given a double helping of fish or meat and vegetables for the evening meal on the days on which they dig.

There are supposed to be four in our gang (though only three have turned up so far) and we dig for two hours on alternate days – Sundays excepted. Tim had been doing this and has spent the last month in hospital on his bed because he strained his heart. Some have been stopped doing this on medical advice, so it behoves me to go slowly. I have lost 10 lbs since my peak last year when I rose from 138 lbs (during the starvation days) to 151 lbs. Now I am 141 lbs which is too low. The trouble in our Married Blocks is that the percentage of young and able bodied men is small to begin with, and, in addition, the majority of men who work in the workshop and do jobs for all the camp are resident in the Married Blocks. I had been in the construction gang till the middle of March, when I was asked to join the woodcutters. The amount of construction work had dwindled and was chiefly a matter of repair or patching up, and in any case I had given most of my time to camp entertainment since the beginning of the year so my transfer from the construction squad cannot have been felt.

All this time Yvonne has been teaching in the school. In addition, all available women in their blocks take it in turn to serve out food, each block has it’s own servers which speeds things up, so Y has to serve once a day for a week every fourth week.

As for entertainment, we have both contributed to this. Before last Christmas I had been approached by a man named Bush who lived in ‘C’ bungalow who asked me if I would help him with the production of a play or plays – either a full length play or some one act plays. In the early days of camp we had a couple of play readings which John Robertson has called ((not sure if this refers to John Robertson or John Gray Robertson)), but owing to lack of adequate food, the lack of stage facilities and the approach of the hot weather, we gave up the idea of putting on an ADC ((Amateur Dramatics Club)) show.

I told Bush I would be glad to help and we had a chat, during which I endeavoured to find out what experience he had of acting and what plays he had in mind. I gathered that his experience was limited to a few amateur theatrics with which he had been associated at a Japanese University. His choice of one act plays (which I read) I considered unsuitable for this camp - one was about the danger zone at sea during the last war - and gave him my opinion. Then I suggested that we should ask John Robertson to produce - not a very tasteful suggestion, as I then gathered he himself wanted to produce. However, he said: get Robertson by all means if you can. So I asked John and he said he would be quite glad to do a one act play.

When I told Bush he said that he had decided to put on a full length play called ‘Springtime for Henry’ and that he did not think there was a suitable part for me. So he got together his cast: Mr & Mrs Mills, Mr Dalziel, Gordon Stopani-Thompson, and they went into rehearsal. So Sheila Mackinlay and I set about trying to find 3 suitable one act plays to put on for one evening. We found a duologue: ‘A Marriage has been arranged,’ by Sutro, ‘A Villa for Sale’ and ‘Banqour Chair’, a short story that I had dramatised. Richard Mills had intended to put on ‘A Marriage has been arranged,’ but when he was asked to take a part in ‘Springtime for Henry’, he handed it over to us. By this time it was after Xmas and in addition Bill Colledge (who used to produce for the YMCA) had asked me to take the part of Sebastian in his cut production of ‘Twelfth Night’, which was due to be presented on Twelfth Night – January 6th.

In those days I had a moustache and a beard and it meant shaving all this camouflage off, as I had to resemble, as nearly as possible, the fair Viola, which part was being played by Nora Witchell. She and I are exactly the same height and are both of the slender variety of build (thin in my case), but there the likeness stopped. In ‘A Marriage’ – I had to appear as a middle aged Edwardian and I intended to have at least side-whiskers and a moustache, and John thought a beard too, as it would then be easier to age me. So these two plays came just the wrong way round. I had to shave myself on Jan 6th and appear again with a rich and splendid fungus by Jan 14th. However, I decided I could manage the side-whiskers and moustache in that time.

‘Twelfth Night’ was the third play in Hong Kong for which I had proceeded with rehearsals. In neither of the earlier two had I appeared. I had dropped out of the first in 1940 because I was invited to go on the Inter-port Rugger Tour to Shanghai and ‘George and Margaret’ the second, had got to within one week of the ‘first night’ when the blitz out here started. So I became superstitious about this third play and said I was sure something would happen to prevent its presentation. Well, on Jan 4th Todd, who was taking the part of ‘Sir Toby’ fell during a game of football and tore a ligament in his knee! So the play had to be put off. However, it was presented and I did appear in my first play in Hong Kong.

Bill Colledge, the producer, took the part of Sir Toby and Cyril Brown took the part of Sebastian, formerly played by Bill. In the end the play was presented on Monday and Tuesday evening January 11th and 12th and a matinée on Monday. Bill and Cyril did very well (especially Bill) in their parts at such short notice. Bill’s arrangement of the play was very well done: he cut out various scenes without spoiling the plot or the continuity of the play and nowhere did he alter the text. I think it went down quite well.

The costumes were very well done. The Red Cross cardigans (of thick woollen khaki material) trimmed with reds, blues etc. and belted, made excellent doublets; and we wore blue or black shorts gathered at the knee and ladies stockings, for the lower portion of the mens’ garments. Daggers etc. were made in camp. Gordon Stopani-Thompson, as the Duke, managed to acquire a pair of satin pants which were stuffed with paper to give the right effect! The staging and stage sets were very simple and effective. My only criticism is that Bill is content with too low a standard of acting and his later productions have rather confirmed this view, in my opinion. It is not that he cannot get his plays more highly polished but that he seems to think “Oh that’s good enough”.

Owing to the alteration of dates, ‘Twelfth Night’ came right on top of ‘A Marriage Has Been Arranged’ and, with a break on Wednesday only, I performed on all the other 5 days. I had also to make do without a moustache, though I contrived side-whiskers. For ‘A Marriage’ I made up myself with water colour paints as there was no theatrical make up in camp, and it really proved a remarkably good medium to work with. Viv Garton made up most of the people for ‘Twelfth Night’ with the aid of an eye brow pencil, some rouge and face powder generously lent by some lady. He lined and coloured Nora and me in exactly the same way and I was quite surprised at the number of people who afterwards remarked on the resemblance between Nora and myself.

I must say I enjoyed ‘A Marriage Has Been Arranged’. It is a well written play to start with, though I found difficulty in reaching a satisfactory interpretation of Sutro’s character Harrison Cockstead. The character is that of a self made man of 42 years of age, the last 10 of which only have known wealth – and vast wealth – the former 32 years having been spent in savage and bitter poverty. In the action of the play, Cockstead says,  “I have no polish, or culture, nor taste, art wearies me, literature sends me to sleep”. And yet the words spoken by him in his part are undoubtably those of a cultured and well read man; a man, in fact, who has learnt and appreciates French. There is a certain amount of confusion, I think in the drawing of this character, but after a good deal of dissension we agreed on the interpretation we thought best and went ahead.

Sheila lives in this flat so, as there are only two of us, rehearsals were easy. My experience with John Roberston as a producer is that he forms a clear picture of the play and is generally quite clear and definite in his directing – which of course helps enormously. There had been some confusion somewhere and instead of being asked to put on a whole evening of plays we were asked, by the Entertainment Committee, to put on one play with two other dialogues. Both of these were dramatised versions of dialogue from Dorothy Parkers books, one produced by Richard Mills with Danny Wilson and Joan Dupuis, called ‘Here We Are’ and the other called ‘Fireworks after Dark’ with John Sterricker and Day Sage, produced by Mrs Graham-Barrow.

Both these were modern and very amusing, so our play was put in the middle of the programme. The setting for ours was the ante-room of a ballroom and by dint of borrowing some elegant silver candle sticks, a carved, velvet backed seated armchair that had been sent in to a Mrs Rowel from the American Embassy, by covering an old and dilapidated couch with some lace curtains and by concocting the inevitable aspidistra, we managed to produce quite an Edwardian atmosphere. We both wore evening dress. I think the evening as a whole went very well. Sheila and I both enjoyed doing our play and people were very generous in their praise. Several people let themselves be carried away to the extent of saying it was,  “Good enough for the London stage”. What internment will do to people.

I then had a rest while Yvonne got going. Carol Bateman produced a ballet taken from the book of Esther in the Bible. At least, she built a ballet on that story, composing all the dances herself. It was a tremendous undertaking. She started rehearsals on 4th Feb and it was presented on 19th March, and there were over 60 people in the cast. There were 13 men, but they were officers, chancellors and such and performed marches and actions to music rather than dances. Peggy Hunter was chosen as Esther and Goldie was the King. These two had done a lot of dancing together before the war with Goucharoff and had often appeared before the public. Peggy is really good.

Yvonne appeared in a very saucy slave dance, then in the virgins’ dance and finally in the lament of the Jews when they read the proclamation that Hayman has persuaded King Ahaquarus to make, condemning the Jews to death on a certain day. This dance, I thought, was beautifully conceived and very well executed and was the outstanding dance in the ballet: 17 or 18 girls took part in this dance. It was performed to a piece of music called ‘Bolada’ or a name very much like that and so, locally, the dance came to be called by that name. Dinnie Dodwell, another excellent dancer (though I don’t think she has done much actual ballet dancing) took the part of the discarded Queen. Isa Watson and Marjorie Fortescue appeared with four others as six lusty princes and they did two quite effective dances. Elsie Bidwell appeared as a court lady, though she did not dance. Yvonne really danced very well indeed, quite one of the best – and I was watching very critically! She and Sheila had to do a very quick change of costume between the slave dance and the virgins’ dance, so Winnie Deane (who had helped Y make her costume) gallantly stood by each night to help her change. Betty Drown arranged all the music and she and Roy Heasman (violin) played for the whole ballet.

Christine Corra designed the costumes and they were quite a triumph: they were made out of silk scarves, with silk under slips, old evening dresses and bits of curtain, dyed mosquito nets etc. I spent quite a time (with much protest!) cutting out, from empty meat and jam tins, crescent moons, stars,  diamonds, circles etc. which Y sewed onto the little black jacket of her slave costume.

Christine, I thought, made one mistake in her costume design, and that was not concerned with the actual costume so much as the grouping and arranging of colours. She made no use at all of colour groups which was rather a pity. The 6 officers and the 4 handmaidens of the queen were dressed alike, respectively and so also were the chancellors, but the costumes they wore were made up of 2 or 3 fairly strong contrasting colours. All the others wore costumes of cheerful and bright colours, cut, perhaps, to the same pattern but of every colour under the sun. The net result was that, in the bigger of the Royal scenes, the effect was bizarre rather than regal, especially as the colour black was practically non-existent, where its judicial introduction would have strengthened the other colours a good deal. If Christine had tried grouping people together a little more in similar coloured costumes and getting the contrasts between the groups, the effect as a whole would have been much grander. However, it was really quite well done and I have no doubt it would have added to the difficulties of dressing such a large cast if they had gone in for colour grouping on a large scale!

This ballet was dress rehearsed on Tuesday 16th March, performed on Thursday, Friday, Saturday and Monday and then a repeat performance on the following Friday 26th. These numerous performances were necessary partly because the ‘crowd’ dances were performed on the auditorium floor in front of the stage, thus reducing the seating capacity of the hall; partly because many people wanted to see it more than once. Butler, in charge of the electrical arrangements in the hall, had contrived two big flood lights at the sides of the hall made from big tin containers (originally used for milk powder or some such commodity) and each fitted with 4 x 100 watt lamps (borrowed from various rooms, including one from ours). These floods have proved very useful since.

Today is Chère’s birthday and tomorrow it is Mother’s. Many happy return’s of the day, both of you.

We hear that Mejima, head of the Civil Administration in HK who has recently been on a visit from Tokyo, is due back today and is bringing with him good news for the internees. The guesses are that we shall hear either, that we are to be repatriated; that we are to receive more IRC food supplies or our allowances are to be given to us. I sincerely hope it is the first, but quite probably it will be none of them. Perhaps he hasn’t even been to Tokyo!

Y and I had reached our last Yen when Maudie received another allowance from Capt. Min and she very kindly gave us Y10. Things in the canteen are so expensive now. 1 lb of sugar costs now Y1.90 or 5/- per lb (pdv £11.25) @ MY8 = 1 pound Sterling.

The Japanese, a few weeks ago, sent in 10 small rice grinding mills – the hand turned affair – and these have been distributed between the blocks. People were issued with the surplus rice that was mounting up in the block store and we were able to grind it into quite a fine rice flour. With this, a little dripping and soda bicarbonate from the canteen, plus a small percentage of flour that was issued to us some time ago, we have made cakes, scones and pancakes which have really been quite a success and help out the bread supply. The trouble was that they were terribly dull with no flavouring, so today we went half shares with Isa in a 3 oz bottle of cinnamon which we bought from the canteen for Y2 (pdv £11.25).  Though expensive, it should last a long time.

To return to the entertainment – ‘Spring time for Henry’ should have been presented on Feb 11th, but it became evident that Bush’s ability or experience as a producer was somewhat limited and in the end he asked Mrs Gordon Jenner to come along and say what she thought of it. Mrs Jenner was a war correspondent who was caught here during the blitz. I am not sure if she is attached to any particular paper or whether she is a freelance journalist, I expect the latter with commissions from one or two papers. Incidentally she is most indignant at being kept here by the Japs in contravention to international law.

She says that after the foreign diplomats, war correspondents should have been the next to be released. For some 10 years she was dramatic critic for some American paper (her husband was an American, she, I believe, is Australian) and spent much of that time in the studios and homes at Hollywood where she got to know most of the leading film stars and picked up a good deal about film technique and production. Well, she had a look at the play and said straight away that it would have to be postponed till March. She attended one or two more rehearsals and Bush gradually handed over the production to her, saying that he would become Stage Manager. Then Stophani-Thompson began to find it difficult to attend all the rehearsals as he was representative of his block and was also attending a course of shorthand lessons, also not feeling too well. At all events he began to be difficult and I became aware of all this when Peter Mills and Mrs Jenner came to ask me if I would be willing to take over Gordon’s part ‘Henry’, the lead, with the production due in 4 weeks time.

I read the play and realised that ‘Henry’ should be played by a comedian (the play is a farce), which I am not; but I noticed that in the original production in New York the part had been played by Leslie Banks, which surprised me for I do not consider he is a comedian. That rather encouraged me to try! For it would be a completely new type of part for me, though I felt (and still do really) that Gordon was more the type for the part and it was a pity that difficulties had arisen. However, I said I would have a try if it would help things in general and not become a feud; so at the next rehearsal when, apparently things came to a head and Gordon tentatively suggested that another Henry be found, Jenner rather took the wind out of his sails, poor chap, by telling him that one was already forthcoming! So for some time Y and I were rehearsing for different shows at the same time.

The trouble about rehearsals is that they generally have to take place during meal times, as these are the only times when St Stephens Hall, the community Hall and BCC office are free from school, lectures, office work etc. When only one of us was rehearsing, the other could prepare or keep the meal hot.

‘Springtime for Henry’ was quite good fun, though I myself never really felt convincing in my part. Richard Mills was superb as Jellywell and Peter was equally good as Miss Smith. Freddie Dalziel was good but miscast as Mrs Jellywell (Bush’s fault!). Three weeks before the play was due, Jenner took her courage in her hand and made the two girls swap parts! It was a change for the better though temporarily upsetting.

Bush was removed from this camp by the Japanese about 10 days before the date of the presentation, so he never saw his precious play at all! It was as well he handed over the production to G.J. He was sent to Argyle Street Camp because he was a Naval Officer (or wavy Navy) and only got here in the first place because he was trying to locate his wife – who is Japanese who, after the capitulation here, evidently managed to return to Japan – and then was kept on as a Japanese interpreter.

The play was eventually presented on Thursday 25th March with a full dress rehearsal on the previous Tuesday (attended, as usual by a large audience) and subsequent performances on the following Saturday, Monday and a request repeat on the next Friday. By the time the show had come off most of us were getting a trifle temperamental (including Elma Kelly, the promptress). The script was cut – literally slashed – and whole chunks of it re-written and the end changed! I don’t suppose Ben Levi would have recognised it. But it greatly improved the play!

The Mills and Freddie had been going hard at the thing since before Christmas, so why they weren’t screaming mad by 25th March I don’t know. Richard was the only one left in the original casting. In spite of all this the play was a huge success. It was a farce pure and simple and we took it at a rollicking pace and that just suited the mood of the pent up internees here. As it was a small cast it meant we all had big parts, but it was worth all the work.

The last repeat performance went completely flat! For one thing it came after a longish interval and we felt it was a bit of an anti climax and for another thing it was attended largely by the aged and infirm, (for whom seats were reserved) and people who had seen it before – and I don’t think a farce like that should be seen twice in quick succession, for the element of surprise is then missing. Maudie was press ganged into arranging the flowers for the show, and Yvonne stood by in the wings to help me with a very quick change into evening clothes.

During all this, Sheila and John Robertson and occasionally I, had been scratching our heads for something to do on St Georges Day. We read numerous plays and then thought ‘A Midsummer Nights Dream’ or ‘The Merry Wives of Windsor’ would be most suitable, for Shakespeare’s birthday also falls on April 23rd. However, owing to the exceptional lateness of Easter this year, Good Friday fell on April 23rd and so St Georges Day was automatically put back till May 4th. But none of us was willing to produce Shakespeare.

In the end we gathered together an unofficial committee and after many meetings we decided on this sort of programme – an historical sequence of items:

• 1/ A choir singing ‘The Canterbury Pilgrims’  
• 2/ A May day scene with a Maypole, country dancing and ‘Pyramus and Thisby’ 
• 3/ An extract from “Henry VIII” with the court dancing and Cranmer’s speech at the end, 
• 4/ Some sea shanties or traditional English songs by the choir, 
• 5/ A scene from a contemporary English dramatist – a scene from ‘The Good Companions’ by   Priestly was suggested and finally
• 6/ A girl giving a toast to England – the toast from Coward’s ‘Cavalcade’ with voices of the past floating in with some of the great speeches or pieces of verse in our language.

Having eventually drawn this up we cast about for a suitable producer who would undertake the organising and welding of the whole thing into one consecutive programme and avoid bitterness. James Norman was asked (he had been largely responsible for some very good Police Concerts) and the programme submitted. He attended the last meeting. (The St George’s Society had woken up by then and sent it’s Vice President, Mr Cornell, along) and much to our surprise he not only undertook to put on the show, but with apologies to the committee, he presented an entirely new programme prepared by himself! It had taken him an evening to do what the rest of us had spent days over though our suggestions may have guided him.

His suggestions were: 

• 1/ Country dancing,
• 2/ A tavern scene incorporating as many English dialects as could be found in camp and traditional English songs,
• 3/ A ‘Victorian scene’
• 4/ A one act play on Nelson called ‘Before Trafalgar’ 
• 5/ A Grand Finale with the stage full of a cross section of the English life with some well known English speeches, ‘Jerusalem’ and a toast.

The rest of us thought it seemed all right and were so glad to find someone who would undertake the job that we gladly accepted. 

In the mean time Cyril Brown had asked me to take the part of Herod in Mansfield’s ‘Passion Play”.  It was a small part and I said I would. Richard Mills took the part of Pilate, Winnie Cox his wife, Lourence ((maybe Hans Lourenz?)) was Longinnis, Gordon Stopani-Thompson the Chief Citizen and Cyril Brown the old blind beggar. There were other speaking parts and quite a large crowd. Richard and Lourence were excellent in their parts and so was Gordon. I appeared as a young dandified Herod – sly withal – and rather fancied myself in my splendid robes, gold chains and blazing rings and crown or circlet. My robes were an under gown of pale green – a lovely Chinese silk housecoat that Yvonne had brought into camp and is carefully keeping (the last of her trousseau I think) – and a superb over robe of vividly contrasting crimson – another ladies dressing gown! – girdled with the girdle of Yvonne’s robe. These reached practically to my feet.

Pilate’s costume was very convincing – a white sheet edged with red (white material dipped in red ink).  The sentries and centurion were awfully well got up – armour made from these big babies milk tins and helmets from cardboard on wire frames painted with silver paint that happened to be found in camp. Bill College was responsible for the properties. The play is in verse and has some quite fine passages; but my feeling is that it is rather harsh. However, it was well and reverently attended and went quite well I think. The make up was a lengthy business.

I remember the last Passion Play in which I took a part was one called ‘The Garden’ written by Father someone and produced by Mrs Sidwell at Upper Holloway ((John’s Church in England)). I much preferred that play to Masfield’s. That must have been nearly 10 years ago. I took the part of Judas on that occasion – from Judas to Herod; I am progressing slowly.

I remember rehearsing for the Passion play in the open but covered space under St Stephens kitchen. The crowd was clamouring for the blood of Jesus and those of us who were not on stage at the time were watching a seaplane flying back and forth, towing a target, while two Japanese AA batteries along the coast banged away, and we watched the puffs of smoke in the blue sky. And the irony of it all struck me forcibly.

Some time during Feb or nearly in March, Y took part in a sketch with Nora Witsfell. Bill College had dramatised a short story about two girls at a finishing school in Brussels, one of them relating to the other her experiences de coeur during the recently ended holiday. He called it ‘That Romantic Age’. It was quite amusing and Nora and Yvonne did it very well – the first time I had seen Y act. But Bill had not dramatised it well, for it amounted almost to a monologue from Nora with a few interjected sentences from Yvonne. I had wanted to point this out to Bill, but did not like to as it was Y who was taking the smaller part. Later on Bill decided to put on ‘The Taming of the Shrew’ in the open air. He asked me to take the part of Lucentio with Richard as Petuchio. Winnie Cox as the shrew and Nora as Bianca, but Richard and Winnie and I cried off. I, because I wanted a rest, had been losing weight and the hot weather was coming. Then he cast Nora as the shrew and wanted Y as Bianca. Y would have loved to do it, but she too had lost a lot of weight and was looking a little tired, so she decided not to, too. The play is on now. We should have gone to it last night, but a black-out was suddenly ordered and the concert cancelled.

After ‘Esther’ Yvonne danced a very pretty solo (to a minuette) in a crinoline during one of the scenes of Dr I. Newton’s musical comedy ‘Mimi’, and she looked grand, everyone remarked on her dance. ‘Mimi’ was quite a brave effort for a completely camp production, but the principals let it down – their singing being particularly poor. There was a first class fashion parade during the show – all the carefully treasured costumes and dresses were paraded. It was quite pleasant to see well dressed people again. Betty Drown composed all the music.  

After the Passion play I plunged into the St George’s Day fray. Y had decided to take no part, but in a weak moment I agreed to produce the Victorian Pageant in collaboration with Sheila Mackinlay. James gave us a rough idea of what he wanted and left us to devise and cast it. His idea was two scenes, one of the young Queen and one of the old Queen watching two processions of contemporary Victorian characters. James had wanted me to take the part of the Prince Consort, but I wriggled out of that and actually, we found a much more suitable person – George Wright-Nooth ((later in life Deputy Commissioner of Police)) – to take the part. Dressed up and with side whiskers he really looked extraordinarily like Prince Albert.

Sheila and I, with some useful suggestions from Yvonne, eventually concocted the action (the whole thing was in mime) and then we had an awful game casting it. At first we gaily started off with the idea of introducing well know Victorians such as Palmerston, Disraeli, Gladstone etc., but we first found it was going to be difficult to evolve a suitably short and convincing action for them and then we found it was almost impossible to suitably cast them. Also, we felt that with no speaking and no compering, the audience would probably not gather who they were supposed to be. So in the end we contented ourselves with just the Duke of Wellington.

The young Queen (Jean Mathers, who looked the living image of the young Victoria) and Prince were discovered on the stage when the curtain went up. They were supposed to be on the terrace overlooking a walk in say St James Park or Hyde Park, and this was represented by a small draped platform. The Prince wore uniform something like that of the Artists Rifles dress uniform and the Queen wore white with a full skirt, the blue sash of the Garter and an order pinned upon it, with a tiara on her head. For this camp it really was amazing, the credit was largely due to Christine Corra who undertook the difficult costumes for the whole pageant though, for this particular pair, everyone seemed to have a suggestion. Any way, this curtain raiser always brought a round of applause from the audience.

These two chatted happily for a while (the whole action was set to music and accompanied by Betty Drown) and then the Iron Duke entered to ‘The British Grenadier’ and after being received, stood talking to the Royal pair. Then their first 3 children came on with their nurse; Sewell, as Prince Edward, was dressed in a sailor suit – he is about 5 and a most intelligent little boy. Ruth Sewell was Alexander and little Annette Brown (3) was simply charming as the next Princess – whoever that was. She was dressed in blue crinoline and her mother taught her to curtsie to the Queen. Her father was killed here during the war, poor kiddie.

To describe the action of all this will take too long, but the children (who are on their way for a walk) are approved by the Queen, and the little Prince, after much saluting of the Duke, toddles off with the others, only to return to point at the Duke and when the Queen laughs and nods he drags that smiling and aristocratic gentleman off with him. Mr Glass (of Cable and Wireless) made a grand silver haired Duke with a hawk like face. Then the Queen and Prince watch the procession. First an old flower woman; then two gallants evidently waiting for an appointment - they buy flowers; enter haughty chaperone and blushing ward and in the end one beau manages to ‘get off’ with the ward. They stand aside chatting while enter a Victorian family, Mother and Father (Eve Gray and bewhiskered Mr Moss) and 10 children, paired off according to size and followed by a pretty and buxom nursemaid (Isa) with pram containing two chubby and flaxen haired little boys – John Potter aged 2 ½ years ((probably Chris Potter - his father was named John)) and Nicholas Goodban aged 1 ½ years. This family practically filled the stage by the time they were all on and it was a pleasure to listen to the growing volume of laughter coming from the audience as pair after pair of them appeared!

The nursemaid, of course, was followed by two tall and handsome guardsmen who tried to engage her in conversation. A boy and a girl in the family started quarrelling and pandemonium raged (the children acted very well and thoroughly enjoyed it; Mama and Papa quelled the rebellion and two boys chased after the muffin man who walked across, bringing him back to distribute a muffin to each child. Exit family in close formation while the nursemaid lingers and flirts till the return of the indignant Mama hustles her off. Then enter a drunk who is held in check by one of the beau’s who beckons a peeler while the other beau escorts off the two ladies. That concluded scene 1 and the curtain was drawn.

In between, Sheila and Henry Heath danced the newly arrived waltz, and very effective it was. This Victorian scene took place on the stage and on the floor in front, the actors often entering onto the stage and walking down. The dance was on the floor. This enabled the old Queen to get into place (Mrs Graham-Barrow). She too looked very regal in black with her white widows’ cap and blue sash of the Garter. Again she was on the terrace, this time over looking a seaside esplanade. With her was Prince Edward. Then entered his son Prince George, with his little son Prince Edward. The small Prince was played by fair haired Harry Daubrowski (a native of Yorkshire!) aged about 5. He too proved a favourite with the audience. Then the four generations were photographed by the court photographer who with his assistant retired, followed by the younger Edward and George.

We then had a parade of English sporting people; first was Dr Grace (with beard) and young admiring friend demonstrating some cricket strokes; then two early lady tennis players; then a deer stalker and angler comparing notes and demonstrating; next, two croquet players, followed by a blushing tandem couple to the tune of ‘Daisy, Daisy, give us your answer do’, and finally a couple of very coy and skittish bathing belles and a pair of very playful bathing men. The costumes were simply grand! The bathers evoked shouts of mirth!  Christine Corra takes all the credit for that and she had about 60 people to dress! I never actually counted up our cast! The act ended with two couples dancing in to the polka and gradually all the others that are left join in while the poor old Queen, who has gradually been growing more and more shocked, raises her hands in holy horror. The whole action lasted about 15 minutes.

Looking back on it now, it seemed fun and quite worth doing – the audiences certainly seemed to like it – but neither Sheila nor I enjoyed producing it, and actually it could have been much better than it was. James had a peculiar idea about rehearsals, he had the whole cast up at the hall for 3 hours and we would run through the whole programme, starting with the country dancing – going right through to the cries of London. This meant that most of us spent the mornings or evenings hanging about and when it came to our turn Sheila and I did not like to hold up the proceedings too much by individually rehearsing the characters. It would have been better all round if James had given each act a definite time or day to use the hall, then we could have been on our own and got down to things. James was taking the part of Nelson in the one act play and that made things a little difficult because he wanted it to come at the end of the programme and the rest of us thought it was not suitable for that. This seemed to be the general consensus of opinion after the show, but that did not help matters.

The final programme was: 1. Country dancing, 2. A tavern scene with songs  from different parts of England (these two were performed together more or less, at least, the country dancing on the floor in front of the open tavern scene and it was very good. The dancing was a very bright and happy affair), 3. Some choral items and, a very amusing men’s quartet (in Victorian costume) 4. The Victorian Pageant, 5. Cries of old London (produced by Wendy Whittaker, and very affective too – beautifully dressed), 5. ‘Before Trafalgar’.

The original idea of a grand finale was cut out. That really would have been too much of a good thing. As it was there were over 100 performers and there were 35 in Betty Drown’s choir and all the 100 actors and actresses were in costume! Tail coats were miraculously converted into morning coats, trousers were turned over at the side and stitched to make them look like Victorian tights; evening dresses were transformed into crinolines etc. The tandem was a triumph, it was made from the mere triangle parts of two old bicycle frames that had long since been dismantled of all else. These were wired together by Tony Sauh who then fixed on two large pram wheels, wooden seats cut out of Red X boxes (which I covered with bits of a rush bag) pedals and cord (for chain) fixed on audience side only. It really looked prehistoric!

Viv Garton, Mrs Corra, Christine and Betty Tebutt made people up. I kept out of the way as it was stiflingly hot in the small room. ‘Before Trafalgar’ was superbly dressed, but frankly, for the rest I was disappointed. James Norman was not a suitable Nelson and Mrs G. Jenner had not come up to expectation in her producing. However, in her defence I should say that she and James did not see eye to eye about the portrayal of the character and she is probably not to blame. James sounded a little too pompous and public school for the part, which by the by is no affectation of his, but an impression that he conveys. I cannot think of a man in the camp who would have made a convincing Nelson. Richard Mills as Hardy and Jim Moody as one of the admirals were both very good.

The greatest thrill, which electrified everyone on the first night, was the playing and singing of the National Anthem, at the conclusion of the show. It was the first time we had heard it in camp and it brought tears to not a few eyes. James had asked Gimson early on if we could play it and Gimson said he would not prohibit it. James had kept it a complete secret and only he, Betty and the two drummers knew anything about it. Yamashita had come to the concert on the first night (this was unexpected) and we wondered if it would mean trouble. He was sitting next to one of the Chinese supervisors and evidently did not recognize the tune for, according to those sitting near him, he did not rise until the Chinese supervisor, who knew the tune and had stood up, prodded him in the back, whereupon he hastily scrambled to his feet!  Rather a nice story. He was in no way put out and said he had enjoyed the concert and allowed us to sing the Anthem at the other two performances. Now we have the National Anthem on special occasions – National anniversaries etc. Now Y and I are sitting back and doing no more in the entertainment line until next autumn (if we are still here).

A few evenings ago, when Y and I were out for a walk round the camp, we met Dinnie Dodwell who passed on the tragic news that the Pritchard’s had just received news of Hugh’s death. She could not give us any details but this morning we heard it was in a tank accident near London. Apparently the tank in which he was travelling was overturned and though the members of the crew were extricated in time, poor Hugh was dead before he could be rescued. What a tragedy; not even killed in action against the enemy. I feel so terribly sorry for Mr & Mrs Pritchard and Pam. Hugh had been such a favourite with the family and they were all so proud of him. These days one becomes hardened to reports of bereavements among acquaintances and then, suddenly, one gets a horrid jolt like this. I remember Hugh so well on the ship coming out, so very full of life. He was coming out for the long vac having completed his first year at Oxford. It was thanks to him and his family that I had such a marvellous entre into Hong Kong. And I remember going to the ship with his family to see him off again, after war had been declared – how keen he had been to get back and join up. To receive news like this in this awful camp is really too painful. 

The Lammert’s received a letter from Australia a week or two ago, definitely confirming Ernest’s death here in HK. His name had been on the official list of those killed. Fancy having to get the official news that way round. They have taken it very bravely, he like Hugh, is the only son.

Repatriation!! Yesterday evening, Mr Wittenbach, chairman of the Married Quarters, called a hasty meeting in the back yard and read out a notice to this effect: the British Government had applied for the repatriation of all internees but the Japanese Government had agreed only to the repatriation of all women with children, all other women, except those who refused to go, and all men who were suffering from some disease or who were in any other way infirm. This was only the preliminary notice and further details would be posted later. The notice stated that these people would be repatriated this summer. Such a buzz of conversation! So these rumours had been true and repatriation in some measure had come at last. But, alas, it was not the happy repatriation news that we had all hoped for – that all of us would go – and there were many heavy hearts at the prospect of separations in such uncertain times as these. By jove! Wouldn’t there have been celebrations if we had heard we were all going.

We cannot think why the Japs are holding out on the men like this, for it would be on a reciprocal basis. Well, I’m glad to feel that the British Government would have us back if she could. There has been a feeling all along that it was the British Government who would not agree to the Japanese terms and now we find it is the Japanese who have been the objecting party. This news came on Empire Day. Mr Majima had evidently informed Mr Hatori who came straight out in his motorcar to pass it on to the C.S. and Mr Gimson in turn had issued it immediately to the camp – so they had all kept their promises to pass on any news of the repatriation as soon as they received it.

During the last three days there have been extensive and intensive activities. Y, bless her, objected to going and said she would rather stay, but we discussed the matter and agreed that it would be most unwise for any woman to stay on here. From statements by the Americans and British and by the actions of the Soviets regarding Japan reported in the local rag, it seems that the long awaited counter offensive in the Pacific will be launched in the summer. In that event it is probable that we are in for a very thin time here – not only in this camp but in the whole of Hong Kong where, as the Japanese have stated, supplies are running very low. It is also evident, from the reported American and British statements, that this counter offensive will include the heavy bombing of Japanese industrial centres – as in Europe – and the inevitable slaughter of many civilians. This will undoubtably harden the attitude of the Japanese towards British and allied internees, for both those reasons it is best for all women to be away.

In the meantime all men are being medically examined with a view to seeing who must go first and who must stay if necessary. For this purpose two lists are being prepared, the first the urgent cases: men with TB; 36 (I am told) with this defective eyesight and partial blindness due to malnutrition; evidently cases of hernia, which cannot be treated properly and may become serious, and many other types of serious complaints. The second is for not so urgent cases: men with weak hearts etc. and the older but fairly healthy men. Old Octavious Smith, aged 70 has no hope of getting away, he says he is too healthy.

Tim is, apparently, on the second list as his heart has been rather dicky of late. He recently spent a month in the hospital on his back. I was prodded, listened in to, and had my blood pressure taken and was declared perfectly fit. Well, that is reassuring even though it does mean I have to stay. Harold was the same though his blood pressure was higher than the average. He used to be about 165/85, which was much too high for a young man, and is now 140/80 which is fairly right. I used to be 125/80, which is normal for a young man, and am now 108/72 which is rather low but which, Deane-Smith told me, is about the average in camp at present. My weight is down to 141 lbs, only 3 lbs more than my lowest during last year’s starvation period. Y is now only 114 ½ lbs.

Yvonne has been dashing about collecting all kinds of things for me. She has bespoken a pair of warm flannel pyjamas for me that Anne Muir says she will leave here. She worried Mrs Penny (the Welfare representative for our block) for some flour sacks with which to make me some underpants. Mrs Penny said flour sacks have now to be returned to the Japanese and so none are available, but instead she gave Y a chit for me which enabled me to get two pairs of cotton pants and a singlet from the Welfare. Underclothes are my chief shortage and Y is considering which of her few dresses she can cut up – she asked me if I would prefer a pink shirt with flowers or a blue one with white spots! However, I don’t want her to do that, for we have two double sheets (a green and a white) and when she has gone I can cut them down and turn needlewoman myself. In addition she has been making discrete enquiries as to the price she could get for a gold bracelet left her by her grandmother. I really hope she cannot sell it as it grieves me to think of her parting with her few precious pieces of jewelry, especially these old pieces (I haven’t been able to give her any new pieces yet!)  

Since writing about the bracelet, Y has sold her lovely Chinese brocade housecoat for MY30 for the purpose of buying me as many tins of bully beef as possible from the canteen. Maudie says she has written to Capt. Min to ask him to send me Y20 per month if possible, which is most awfully kind of her. So it looks as though I should manage to survive if all these things materialise.

When we hurriedly left our flat in January 1942, we sent over a trunk full of our silver to the French Consulate in the hope that Devaux would be able to look after it for us. Now that Y will be leaving HK we want to write and ask him to send it in here (through the Japanese Civil Administration) so that Y can take it with her. The snag is that, apart from the risk of having the contents tampered with in transit, we may be instrumental in getting Devaux into trouble. 

Some time ago apparently, third nationals were ordered to report to the Japanese if they were looking after any property belonging to internees, and we do not know if Devaux reported our things or not. If he has not and we send him a card asking for them, it may get him into trouble. If we leave our things with him, there is always the chance of losing everything during the second spate of looting that will probably ensue during the transition period when HK returns from Japanese to British or American occupation. It would help a lot if Devaux would send a guarded message of advice.

I should be digging in the rubbish pit this morning, but as it is pouring with rain I have elected to make an entry in my diary.

I sought advice at the C.S.O. with regard to our silver and they advised us to write saying that the third nationals had been asked to report if they were looking after estate, commercial stocks or stores etc. of enemy nationals, not so much small personal property. He (Ginger Angus) said that 3 or 4 people had already written to Devaux about similar property of theirs. We are still dubious, but in the end I wrote a card saying: Do you know if any of our property survived the looting of our flat? If so will you please send it to us for the impending repatriation. We understand the Japanese Civil Authorities will make arrangements for transporting it here, etc. Put in this way it will enable Devaux to deny all knowledge of our property if necessary. Now we must wait and see if anything turns up. We are allowed to send to HK one 50 word post card per month. (Married couples count as one person). The wording has to be written in block letters and the nationality of the sender and addressee has to be stated. Apart from Yvonne Ho and Devaux there is no one else really for us to write to.

Yvonne Ho sent us a lovely parcel at Easter; four enormous eggs and ¼ lb of cheese. The cheese was of the cooking cheddar variety with a very good and strong taste; where it has come from we cannot think.

One or two people have been getting personal property in. Anne Muir had a big suitcase sent in yesterday containing her fur coat and table linen amongst other things. We helped her carry it to her block. A Mrs Hall, who was in charge of ‘The Caravan’, a shop in the Peninsula Hotel where they dealt in Chinese silk lingerie etc., has had a large amount of her stock sent into camp. She had packed it up and left it at the Peninsula and lately she asked for it to be sent in. She is now selling it at the pre-war prices in exchange for sterling cheques at the pre-war rate of $16 = One pound Sterling. This is very fair of her, as no doubt she could have stuck on the price and people would still have bought, though maybe she would not have sold out. She is expecting another consignment soon. I have my Westminster Bank cheque book with me and I think it would be a good idea if Y bought some of these things for herself and her mother, as it will be years before this quality stuff can again be bought at these prices, and as Y has lost all her clothing she will have to buy and make more; so this seems to be an opportunity not to be missed. Also, we can purchase it without parting with any of our precious local money. Mrs Hall will take the Sterling cheques out with her when she is repatriated and will then pay them into her own account. As she is accepting cheques, the purchasers, whom she does not know, have to be recommended, this Maudie can do for us, as she has already bought a lot of stuff herself.

We met Mr Gimson the other evening at Maudie’s wedding anniversary (25th May) and I asked him about my Government pay for Yvonne. He said that half my salary would be made available for her and she has to get in touch with Mr Maugham, the HK Government official who accompanied the first batch of evacuees to Australia. So that eases my mind. She will now be able to get in touch with my bank in England and see how matters are standing.

This repatriation rather knocks on the head the scheme for a boys’ hostel, so it does not look as though Y and I will get our room to ourselves after all. To think that this room has been our most permanent home so far – shared with sundry other people! We lived for 9 months at 18 Peak Road and so far have spent over 16 months here.