Colin McEwan Diary: View pages

((There appear to be 10 pages missing from the original document.))

…..Emotions varied from a certain not unpleasant excitement to a sober realisation that HK was now being invested ((invaded?)) and, looking back now, I personally, am thankful that I did not then realise how futile were our expectations of weeks and months of warfare. 

((It is possible that this introduction to the only  extant version was compiled from the missing pages by Pop, but I doubt it, as he talks of “during the morning” when all the other events are headed up with a date – I assume it is December 8^th, Monday, when the Japanese invaded HK from across the New Territories.))

 During the morning, while awaiting the arrival of the rest of our group, Teesdale and I went over the Reservoir to the Royal Scots position to borrow .45 ammunition, and, since this entailed some cooperation with the Quartermaster, we passed the time having a pleasant beer with Capt. Jones, sitting by the roadside with all of us trying to realise that we really were at war and not engaged in some large scale exercise – a feeling which persisted with me up to the time Kowloon was evacuated. To collect this ammunition I had to climb up and have my first, and providentially my last, visit to the ill fated Shing Mun redoubt – that warren of M.G. nests and tunnels which only 36 hours later was to prove not a warren but a snare for the company occupying it including our host Jones.

On arrival back at the bungalow we found the complete unit there (with the exception of Mike ((Mike Kendall, head of SOE then)). Parsons, Gardner, Day, Corneck, Teesdale, Holmes ((later Sir Ronald, Secretary for Chinese Affairs Post-War)), myself, and Thompson ((later Sir Robert, formerly HK Police, later a Counter-guerrilla Experts in Malaya during the Communist Insurgency Post-war)) who had just left Macao in time and arrived in HK along with the first bombing raid. Tiffin over, we started in on the removal of stores – already packed – to No.2. On the way up, just as we started on the slope to Half Hour Pass the crump of shell fire sounded ahead of us. Our own guns were ranging and there was nothing for it but to retrace our steps, sweating and swearing since, unused as we were to shell fire so near us, on the whistle of a shell, down we went and, having loads of some 50 lbs. on our backs, our going down was painful. However, up the trail we went and, having parked our loads, returned to the Bungalow with thoughts of food and bed – just on dusk.

Our hopes were rudely shattered. There was Mike with the news that the Japanese had crossed the border, were passing over Laffans plane, and were already on the two main roads and so out we had to get again. Thompson had gone into town for our portable transmitter and the period of waiting for him in the darkened bungalow was, I think, the ((‘earliest’ crossed out, replaced with what looks like ‘earnest')) period of the HK war. Now the blackout meant something and the meal eaten in half light, while Mike gave out final instructions, was in keeping with the setting: - the radio giving us the news of the various points, apart from HK, which were being attacked, the circle of faces round the table without the usual laughter which I associated with that group, and the fuller realisation that our training had been only in time. With Bob back, we set out in pitch darkness – a perfect night for the job and soon instead of the low voices all we could hear was the slither of feet and only with difficulty could we distinguish the figure in front. This was not to last however, and by our first halt, we were moving in that peculiar half light of HK. The trip up is one that none of us will readily forget; at first reasonable going, the trail developed into the typical rocky path of Chinese hillside – falls were frequent – we were sweating with full equipment and packs – one could imagine sounds and see movements where there were none and the last 300 yards saw legs becoming weary and packs which had been heaved up easily now cut into shoulders and backs. 

Personally I was feeling pretty done but everyone else seemed to be plodding on and so I plodded too, comforting myself with the thought that they were all feeling as bad as me. To complete the picture, rain was falling and, on getting to the position, Day and I had an hour’s sleep on the open rock before things were ready and that night, or rather during what was left of it, we slept in the magazine, head on box of gelignite and feet among Bren ammo, and slept well. Just before dinner Wattie Gardner said “Well, this is a far cry from Minishant” and once as I woke in the night to hear the water outside and feel the explosives against my ribs, I thought just what a “far cry” it was.

The morning saw us up early and after redistribution of stores and ammo and a clean up in the water which, in our particular quarters , was laid on, we slipped down to the main cave for breakfast and discussion as to what was to be done. Being a miserable misty morning, we could move with freedom and, about tiffin time, we had our first view of the enemy as they came over Lead Mine Pass to Grassy Hill and, in fact, we had our first thrill as one of the shells landed directly among a group of them on the skyline. During the afternoon Mike had explained the set up to us and had given us the news – at least to us – that Monia Talan was still in HK trying to arrange the final details of the Shataukok guerrilla attack. It was decided then that Mike and I should return that night to the Royal Scots HQ with news of what we had seen of enemy activity  in an area where, it had been said, “they would never come”, and, if possible, give help in mining the paths in that area – Mike then to return to HK and I to come back to No.2. Other four, Teesdale, Holmes, Day and Gardner were to accompany us as far as Half Hour Pass, thence to Nam Fung Tao to collect the remainder of the gear including the radio.

Setting off just at dusk, we made good time down the trail to a point just below Half Hour Pass where we split ways – the others moving off to Nam Fung Tao.

Proceeding on down the catchment above the Royal Scots lines and realising that we were on fixed lines of fire we started at intervals giving our pre-arranged Morse signal by flash. To these, however, we received only one half-hearted reply and, not feeling very happy about being shot up by my fellow countrymen, not to mention our own land mines, we started through the lines. Crossing the catchment bridges was amusing despite the seriousness of the situation. Mike crawled over it on his hands and knees feeling for any possible trip wire while I, waiting a discreet five yards or so behind, suddenly realising that an explosion might smack me, retired behind a rock and remained there coyly peeping at Mike’s backside slithering across the concrete. Having crossed the bridge we fought our way through the undergrowth to the road, halting every few yards for me to call out “Friend, can we come through”. Still no reply and we walked up the road talking and smoking, hoping that our noise would proclaim us as friends. We finally contacted Lt. Fenwick of the Royal Scots and while having a drink with him and his platoon sergeants, Arnott and Whippy, we heard the news of Japanese passing over Kaplung and Telegraph Pass and along the roads to Taipo on the east and Castle Peak on the west. During this time, a telephone message having been sent, a runner had been sent from the redoubt to escort Mike up to that point. As he entered Arnott had just opened a second bottle of beer and insisted on it being drunk. While this was being polished off the news came through that the redoubt  (we were on the left flank) was being attacked – the runner having the key in his pocket (Capt. Jones orders). Out the platoon tumbled into trenches overlooking the valley in front of the redoubt and anticipating a flanking movement by the Japs. covering Bungalow Hill. It was dark and windy and as the battle continued with almost continuous M.G. fire and explosions of grenades, shouts of men and sharp orders came across. Although only gunfire and torches could be seen one could easily envisage the actual scene. Visible too – were the Japanese officers leading up among the barbed wire entanglements (by the platoon on our right) – using torches and waving swords in feudal manner. Shortly after this, orders came to withdraw to B. Coy. HQ at the foot of the Shing Mun valley and back we went to find extra men moving up in the direction from which we had come. Since it was impossible to retrace the path to Taimoshan I decided to stay the night with Fenwick’s platoon and return the following evening or rather the same day as it was now after midnight and a wet miserable morning. Mike meanwhile had got on to a phone and was off reporting to G.H.Q.

Following Mike’s departure we moved back up to the knoll looking over our former position and took cover among bushes as best we could, It was miserably cold. Tea had not been served out although it was available and for the first time among the troops I noticed decided “lack of morale”. Although only slightly noticeable at the time the next and subsequent happenings were soon to provide a reason for this. Already a Bren had been simply laid aside and with this as my weapon I became a Royal Scot. Cold it was – nothing was happening – a steady drizzle had begun and when we were withdrawn about 3-4 in the morning I for one went gladly. On reporting back, Fenwick assured me there would be no sport till morning, I contacted the C.Q.M.S – found it was Hendy – and proceeded to grab a bed.

On rising I found Fenwick had gone off up to his former position near the bungalow and luckily, finding a runner going the same way, I set off to salvage, if possible, any of our clothes only to meet Fenwick, thoroughly browned off, returning again on orders with no apparent reason and feeling pretty bloody minded about the whole show. By this time the indecision of the upper ranks was beginning to show in the troops and the spark of life had for the greater part left them. No one seemed to know what the position was and with trench mortar fire beginning from above the catchment, general depression was evident. 

There was still no telephone message or sign of Mike and in the late afternoon I set off to do a short reconnaissance up to the Shing Mun road to find out my best path for the evening. Approach to our farthest forward pill box was easy at first but, after a burst of Tommy gun fire from a Royal Scots sentry who fired without warning from about 20 yds. While I was hurling my 190 lbs. of weight into a ditch of stinking filth, I decided to become a Boy Scout and run and crawl. It was in the pill box, a fairly elaborate affair, that I first realised what really was wrong with the men – a feeling that they were shut in – even if in concrete and personally I did not feel too comfortable even as a visitor and if night had to be spent  there with the example of Shing Mun fresh in their minds little wonder signs of nerves were appearing. Quite a few too of the men were militia – not toughened for this type of war and most of the regulars seemed quite apathetic and looking all the time for guidance  and leadership which was forthcoming in only a few cases.

From this reconnaissance I arrived back at B Coy. H.Q. to find orders for withdrawal to the inner line. Just why they should withdraw then was vague as there had been no great pressure and the trench mortars, while constant, had done no great damage. However, going we were, and all attempts by phone failing to contact Mike, I reported back to Battalion H.Q. to find a phone to G.H.Q. The withdrawal itself seemed orderly enough but H.Q. was in a flap with people rushing about ineffectually apart from a few worthies who were going out to the Golden Hill area.

Luckily the Adjutant (Ely Guthbertson) told me that Mike was coming back later and in fact some “toys” were there. Those I duly took over and sat down to wait – passing my time by listening to the pipers recount what had happened and, for the umpteenth time, hear how the Japs. had climbed on top of the redoubt and dropped grenades down the air shafts.

Mike, as usual, arrived with a job – to mine the trails on Golden Hill, which job however, on the suggestion of Major Burn, was transferred to the left flank which was already unprotected. Off we set in brilliant moonlight with most of Kowloon lit up by a huge blaze on the waterfront in company with three Engineers who had volunteered for that special job. The location was a ridge from road to sea above Gindrinker’s Bay but, on arrival, we found the officer in charge had been fortifying himself too liberally against cold, the junior officers too were obeying orders which they felt were wrong and to crown it all, as the platoon to guard this stretch had been collected by the pipers, stretcher bearers, odds and sods under command of a L/Cpl. – all untrained men who walked to the top of the hill and lay on the skyline, visible in the moonlight for miles. Instead too of the tracks which we had been assured existed there was bare hillside; impossible country for our particular “toys”.

On arrival back at the road, we did another reconnaissance beyond the last road mine with the intention, if the Japs.. appeared to be there, of laying traps. There seemed no sign of them and the only other piece of excitement occurred when some Chinese came strolling up the road with the sentries allowing them to come close and only firing when Mike and I screamed about the mine. The speed with which ideas change – only two days and here, on the first realisation that saving a life might endanger my own, I was grabbing for my Tommy with only one idea in my mind, and swearing greatly the while. And so rather disappointedly to bed at 4.30.

Very hospitable treatment was handed out  by the Royal Scots including a bath, shave and breakfast (tea only). Early everyone seemed fairly confident about holding the inner line and according to early reports there had been no heavy attacks during the evening. Later however about 9 o’clock a general air of uneasiness began to pervade the area and confused reports as regards Jap. attacks down the main roads kept filtering in. Shortly after, the armoured cars and some of the Canadian  troops came past and one could hear the sighs of relief  at the thought of reinforcements for troops who were already tired and hungry. When Mike turned up about 10, things were somewhat steadied and, as we came back to the Peninsula Hotel, no one seemed unduly worried.

The interior of the hotel presented a different scene. There was the beginning of a first class flap and the scene was similar to that when the evacuation of women was carried out in 1940. Everyone was talking and rumours were being bandied about and gaining in strength as they passed. There was something very akin to panic in the air and the staff which was controlling the issue of permits to HK was quite inadequate.

Mike, having to cross to contact Talan, I remained in the hotel changing into civilian clothes to avoid undue attention. The atmosphere in the main lounge was both depressing and exasperating. The Japanese were at Jordan Road – Chinese were looting – fifth columnists with Tommy guns were out in force – houses of people were being robbed – no more people were to be allowed over to the island – all these rumours were flying around and the two cheering incidents were the cheerful bearing with fools of the receptionist – a large plump girl – who stood behind the desk and dealt with all requests for information in the same placid manner although most of the male staff seemed to have urgent business calls across the harbour and the Portuguese matron who had evidently been coerced into coming to the hotel and who now, disgusted with the fuss, waddled out of the hotel declaring that she would rather meet the Japs. in her own house. About 3 in the afternoon my plump friend behind the desk called me aside with the information that orders had been received to evacuate to the island. This put a new face on things since if Kowloon fell it was obviously going to be more difficult to regain contact with our group and, failing to contact Mike by phone, I went along to the police barrier at the ferry to await him there.

Crowds were thronging the gates – quite a few without the necessary pass and, to add to the confusion, walking wounded were crossing and those mainly men of the Indian Battalion who had been on the Taipo Road. Cars too were piling up on the road 5 - 6 deep with the police doing what they could to immobilise them but with neither the time or men to carry this out.

By 6 I had not yet made contact so, crossing over to the island, I tried again but still could not find anyone. Getting back to Kowloon was even more difficult than getting out but by attaching myself to a party of Royal Scots who were going over to collect motor cycles etc, I managed across. The party was led by the padre, Bennett, truly the church militant, whose large and rather noisy presence was exactly what his man needed – most of them H.Q. staff and a few newly out of hospital.

It was evident now that there was looting in Kowloon, large fires could be seen burning and, as the lurid glare spread over the water front to the accompaniment of hoarse howling, it sounded truly like a witches’ dance. On reaching the Peninsula I found it was barred but by shouting the door opened and I was confronted by two of the boys armed with batons ready to do battle for their lives. Inside things had been organised – guards patrolling – food being regulated, sleeping quarters allocated – all with a business like efficiency which put to shame the panicky mob of a few hours before. It was a fine effort by those people – all civilians – this attempt to safeguard their families against the looting which undoubtedly was rife.

My search for Mike still being of no avail, off I went back to HK. Still in vain, however, and I decided that V.H.Q. should at least supply a bed. On reporting I got much more than a bed – news having got around that the Rec. Unit had been totally wiped out and after a feed, of biscuits washed well down with some beer, I found a bed with Mike Carruther’s armoured cars which had just returned from Kowloon more or less covered with glory, having covered the retreat, acted as buffer in the day’s retreat, held positions in the Tsun Wan Road, and with one of their cars blown off the road by our own troops. No.1 Coy. too were back from Kai Tak with news of the military evacuation of Kowloon, which however did not finish till the following evening when the Indians came off Devil’s Peak.

Sleeping was an amusing affair – starting in the open beside the C.S.O. and finishing in the Air Raid Tunnel opposite.

So we were evacuating – although I had been somewhat prepared after last night’s show still, like most people, I had not been prepared for all the New Territories going in four days and the realisation of what this meant – complete siege, troops and civilians packed in a small area – ability of the enemy to bring up guns and shell Victoria – and the distance of water between Kowloon and Victoria – came home to one very rapidly.

Today saw my first experience of direct shelling, the whole morning being pretty hectic with air raids keeping us busy ducking in and out. No signs yet of Mike but on telephoning G.H.Q. with Col. Rose’s help I was told to come along at 12.30. During the morning I had the entertainment of seeing all the H.K.V.D.C. Companies coming in for rations and had the pleasure of seeing my old company with whom I made arrangements in case of my failure to rejoin my group. Everyone seemed fairly cheerful and there was a better spirit abroad, possibly from inexperience but anyway it was a much more cheerful place than any centre I had so far seen. During the morning too orders came through to evacuate for the Punjabis. It seemed that I was being caught up in the current – Shing Mun, Tsun Wan, Taipo Road, Peninsula, V.H.Q. – all along the road I seemed to have been on the retreat – sorry – withdrawal – strategic – soldiers for the use of.

My visit to the Battle Box lead to my dropping one brick. Under the impression that I was going to hand my news only to Col. Newnham, when I was finally in the holy of holies facing a senior looking soldier I hummed and hawed and only on a discreet tap on the ankle from Col. Rose did I realise I was speaking to the General.

Apart from my news of Shing Mun there was nothing I could tell except confirm reports and incidentally learn that Mike was expected and, luckily, as I left, run into him. Before a final rendezvous however I had the opportunity of visiting the places taken for wives and families of Volunteers with Gordon Ferguson, who spent his time cursing his job and doing it damned well, patting the children on their heads and giving pep talks as required. 

The day had seen pretty consistent shelling of the main roads over the island and the evening saw Mike, Talan and myself with Mrs.K. installed in St. Joan’s, a perfect landmark and a building which later we agreed must have been a reference point since, sticking out like a sore finger as it did must have been a perfect target yet was never hit. While on this subject it is, I think, worth recording that shelling and bombing during the entire siege was, as far as my observation went, confined to military objectives and there certainly was no deliberate shelling of civilian areas.

The evening saw the first of our anti-fifth column patrols. Reports had been received about flashes of lights and signals especially in the mid and upper levels and certainly the guns had been picking out even temporary gun emplacements on our side very quickly. With a view to stopping any possible signaller we patrolled the Conduit Road area but apart from ARP and Police, the roads were clear. One suspicious character run in and a few shots through windows which persisted in showing lights stopped effectually any activity in that line.

An incident worth recording concerned the Indian policeman, who, when drunk on guard at the Japanese Consul’s house, had been taking pot shots at people, unluckily, however, without shooting any of the Consulate staff. He was being taken to P.H.Q. in the Consul’s car which was duly stopped by us and the police required to prove their identity. A cause for regret lay in the fact that we did not commandeer the car, a slinky shining limousine since by this time everyone who was anything in HK had at least one superior chariot at his disposal.

Following the cleaning up of this area and also a brief halt at the Jewish Club – where, owing to Tai’s influence, a small amount of beer was obtained, we moved to upper levels to find everything in complete darkness. From our selected observation post, a flat overlooking Victoria and the harbour, we could hear occasional bursts of firing in the streets but otherwise everything was quiet when suddenly there was a short burst of M.G. fire and at the Western Bund a terrific deafening explosion and a terrifying magnificent pinkish-purple flame leapt up momentarily illuminating the water front. There had been intermittent shelling and my guess was that a Jap. shell had hit a dump of ammo. Mike, however stuck to his theory – later proved correct – that it was a ship of some kind which had been blown up by our fire, although the problem of what the Japs were doing with such a craft leading a landing party was one we could not solve.

The following morning we learned the reason. A harbour launch loaded with explosive from Green Island had arrived in some time ahead of the fixed schedule. An M.G. post had fired on the boat causing the explosion with the resultant annihilation of ship and crew. Added to the already jumpy state of nerves along the water front this was enough to produce intense activity directed against imaginary boats containing imaginary Japs. This activity in turn spread to the artillery and the whole concentration of fire power was put up against nothing. Why with searchlights playing, the truth was not found out sooner remains a mystery.

Immediately after this the entire water front from West Point to Causeway Bay went into action – searchlights came into play sweeping the harbour – M.G. fire was continuous providing a most picturesque fireworks scene as lines of tracer criss-crossed up and down and there was all the evidence that a large scale attempted landing was on.

To add to the illusion the heavy guns had opened up and along the Kowloon water front explosions could be seen and heard and we had the impression that Kowloon was being hammered to hell.

It was a pretty sobering thought to realise that here we were – with Kowloon newly evacuated – with the Japs. already attacking and, at that, straight across the harbour although against this was the fact that practically nothing could get through the wall of fire which was put up.

The following morning however we were to learn the reason for both the explosion and the intense firing. (already explained)

Today as most subsequent days was to prove fairly uneventful during daylight hours. During day both Mike and Tai had been making attempts to find their contact guerrilla man but without any success as he seemed to have vanished.

At dusk we set out on another patrol which soon proved that the previous evening’s parade had been effective as the roads apart from an old (odd?) police patrol were quiet and no lights were to be seen.

We had more or less come to the conclusion that all was quiet and were proceeding up to our observation point of the previous evening when suddenly a burst of T.G. fire lit the road in front of us. Down we flopped, not very gracefully but very rapidly into a tarmac road and proceeded to dig in and move so that the trees by the roadside would afford us cover. Realising it was one of our own patrols Mike hailed them but was answered by another burst which set me to wishing I was small enough to sit inside my tin hat. Mike then addressed the audience and spoke clearly, fluently, and volubly – his voice rising in a crescendo of rage and in language of which only the last two “buggers” and “bastards” could be clearly heard.

This eloquence seemed to remind the Afridis – as they later turned out to be – of the voices of their O.C. and, after mutual compliments being paid, we proceeded to the post who, after examining us and smoking our cigarettes, allowed us to proceed, the sergeant having expressed his regret and sealed the bond of friendship by repeating “Fuck Japanese”. A quick visit to their H.Q. – another of the few places which impressed – both officers and men striking one as efficient and alert and another day was over.

During the morning Mike and Tai having to go out to H.Q. I spent the time at Punjabi H.Q. I just returned from there to find a telephone call to report back to meet Tai who drove me up to the Middlesex H.Q. in Leighton Hill. (Mike O’Conner’s house) Evidently a ship lying off Taikoo Docks – M’sex area – had been boarded by an observation party of Japs. and, for some reason, never clearly defined, shell fire could not be brought to bear on it. Here was our chance to try out our “toys” and by some curious twist this problem was the very one set me during our training course. Time, however, was short. The “toys” had to be made ready and no reconnaissance had been carried out nor indeed had we identified our object.

At Taikoo things happened with a rush. Contacting Chris Mann who was in command of that special area we reached the docks – a strange contrast from their usual appearance – quiet and deserted. No one seemed to know the exact position of either ship or the pill boxes which were our reference points. This was later partially explained by the fact that the M’sex had only newly occupied them but, after searching and help from the dock people, a few of whom were around, we established her position. Back at H.Q. Tai and I set off for Ah King’s to find some kind of boat and luckily almost at once discovered a small yacht dinghy and two sawn off paddles. When we had this transported back Mike had the first toy ready and as soon as No.2 was ready we fed and at 21.00 hrs – when the tide was turning – we slipt out to the Ritz (this replaces ‘lido’) launched the dinghy and immediately realised something we had overlooked – the phosphorescent light caused by movement in the water. Still it was too late to worry now and with a queer feeling in the pit of my stomach I stepped in beside Mike and off we went.

Tai remained to give directions and control the M.G. fire which was, if possible, to divert attention from us and keep the Jap. heads down as we approached. ((Footnote here referring to Sheet 14 (?) but the original Sheet 14 gives no clues: looks like Vickers a/q – Tarhard(?) – no way of digging/dragging 1’4 (?) feet/feel with a Currets(?) tool/loop – possibly concerning position of covering fire?)) Later we were to learn that the guns were mounted on concrete but, luckily for any peace of mind we had, this was not known to us. Incidentally how Tai ever guessed his times and distances for fire will remain a problem for me since obviously no cut and dried timetable could be arranged and the soldiers would give no guarantee of real accuracy. Paddling out proved a beast of a job. The tide was running like the devil. We did not want to paddle too forcefully on account of the phosphorous in the water but had to counteract the tide. The night which previously had seemed dark, now to my eyes, seemed bright as daylight  and we seemd about the size of a battle cruiser.

Suddenly a burst of M.G. fire went over our heads and it was a moment before I realised it was our own fire and from then to our first bearing, another ship which was on fire, the odd burst kept coming at irregular intervals. The blazing ship spread a lurid glow over the water  and, unluckily for us, the wind kept blowing the smoke away from us. We were however getting nearer but by a mistake in our judgement of tide we found ourselves about 200 yards astern of our target and tide against us. So paddle we had to and maskee noise and to add to our discomfort a light kept appearing at intervals on the Jap. Shore. My mind was full of ideas – the Japs. might be relieving their post – perhaps at that moment one of them was sitting in the stern with an automatic laid on us (later Mike said his idea was some one with a grenade) and I kept wondering what it felt like to have a burst hit us and queerly enough drew comfort from the fact that the fire would probably set off the “toys” and let us out quickly. About 100 yards astern there came a burst of fire – ours – hitting the superstructure of the ship, our paddling became furious and under the stars we slid safe, at least for the moment.

We hung on to the sternpost and took our bearings. We could hear faint voices above but no undue noise and noticed a large lifeboat attached to the gangway on the port side. Using it we pulled ourselves round the port side and reached a point about ¼ way up the ship. I slipt over the side and thought at first it wasn’t cold. In a minute though the water soaked through my clothing and “Wow” was it cold! Taking the first toy I sank down to get depth and “slap” on it went and with it most of the skin from the tips of my fingers on the barnacles. When I came in the tide had swept me nearly to the sternpost but by means of the lifeboat I pulled myself back up. Putting the second one on was slightly more difficult as we wanted to make absolutely sure. I was afraid that the barnacles would deaden the magnetic attraction and when it was on tried to pull it off but luckily it proved all we had been taught it was and behaved like its name. It is peculiar how the mind works since as I was coming up I found myself admiring the phosphorescent bubbles coming out of my battle pants. Once in the dinghy again our problem was to get away. We let her drift down stream and now our or rather my feeling was what it would feel like to have a burst in the back. Once clear, our spirits rose and, apart from one scare when we fancied we saw another small boat, we paddled back speedily and as Dai (Tai?)said later our last 100 yards was a procession. Getting ashore and a large tot of rum revived me considerably and I began to feel like carrying out our second job of attending to some of our prominent fifth columnists. ((There is another footnote here which says ’Cut the lifeboat clear’)) This however was postponed and after a change of clothes we hopped home where Betty, as always, was waiting with her ever welcome hot coffee.

A telephone call in the morning established the fact that the ship had been well and truly finished and I personally had my first real feeling of satisfaction at something which had been done.

The previous day Mike had seen the C.P. and today Tai and I were taken along to see him and learn our next job. P.H.Q. had been pretty heavily hammered in the morning with some casualties and preparations were being made for transfer to the Gloucester Hotel. However, we got all our information and arrangements made for our return in the evening to carry out our real job. The early evening was not too pleasant as the work was not of the kind we relished but had to be done. P.H.Q. in the evening presented a queer scene – with no lights and the bar where we made our contacts lit up by flickering candles only. Here for the first time was noticeable the lack of cohesion among the police and a tendency to herd together and talk.

At last 10 o’clock came and with the feelings very confused we had the jail opened and our prisoners handed over. I had expected to feel some sympathy for them but instead felt only a slow anger and a feeling that they were not human beings in the real sense of the word. Coming out into the street was dark as hell and all we could feel was the presence of the Punjab guard, the rasp of their boots, and the occasional whimper of one of the prisoners who was taking it pretty badly.

In Queen’s Road they were soon lined up and shot, though one of them, who all along had preserved a dead silence, made a break for it and was cornered in an alley after a chase. Duly placarded they were left and home we went again via the Punjab H.Q. where some marvellous crusty bread, cheese, and whisky proved exactly what the doctor ordered. On the way home we were all pretty quiet – I personally had a mindful of thoughts – the changes we had seen – the difference in our lives – different attitudes to life and its value – change in occupation – all these provided plenty of interesting material for thought and in just such a ruminative frame of mind we went to bed in our ARP basement and, as was our custom now, while Mike and Betty had their little room Tai and I slept with our French girl friends - and mother – and slept well at that.

Morning saw our nearest meeting with bombs – one landing outside our flat and opening the roadway half across but luckily doing no damage apart from shattered glass, the retaining wall taking the blast. Our next job was detailed – sinking another ship and lighter at West Point. After the Taikoo job this appeared easy as no activity had been seen on board and the ship was well removed from both shores. The H.D. were arranging a motor boat and we anticipated no great difficulty. In the evening we paid what was my second visit to B.H.Q. and having to wait on Mike we had time to collect our impression. After our entry by a dim blue lit baffle gate our stay was most oppressing. Somehow the whole atmosphere was dreary – the guards seemed apathetic. The air was close and in that huge catacomb with its innumerable passages, doors, pipes and guards I felt more uncomfortable and depressed than at any other time. It was, too, amazing to see how eagerly Mike’s appearance with news was welcomed – after all what was happening when their own people could not correlate reports and tell us. It had been the same at P.H.Q. The C.P. seemed to have no sources of information either and no means of communication with H.Q. Bluntly it seemed to me a bloody place in which to have to pass any time at all.

From there we moved with C.S.O., I to the General’s house where, over a drink, we, at least again I, had an eyeopener when GSO1, in detailing a job he seemed to feel we could do, revealed a shocking gap in our North Point defences. 1000 yards, without even a booby trap. The job however involving as it did laying mines in daylight under M.G. fire about 400 yards away did not appeal to our minds and with mutual expressions of goodwill we homed hoping that none of the innumerable sentries would have a crack at us.

Feeling that the contact with the Shataukok guerrillas was now hopeless and after discussion with the C.P., Mike decided to contact the official Chinese Gov’t. representative S.K. Yee and this morning we paid him a visit to ascertain if he had established contact with any of the supposed advance guerrillas who were attacking Shumchun and Shataukok. Although a man had been sent no reply had come back yet but with this in mind Mike had arranged for the transport of the guns and ammo to Aberdeen – now naval H.Q. for transport by fast launch  to Shataukok. In the evening we reported to the Harbour office to meet our crew and again were held up by the Army refusing to vouchsafe us a passage from Wanchai to the V.R.C. Naturally they were worried over a possible repetition of the explosion on the 12th, but chances had to be taken and we felt that a guarantee of ½ hour was a fairly small request. However, it was refused and again it was postponed until such time as another launch in the central area was ready.

Today we had tiffin in town – a habit we were falling into as our activities took us more and more around town during day. Those meals were very interesting – seeing how the restaurants, formerly our haunts of tiffin dates and gins were now converted into set price canteens or, in the case of the Parisian Grill a canteen for the various organisations connected with the Civil Defence. As usual people tried to obtain extra helpings – I did myself – but, in fairness to the places concerned the regular helping of food was enough and more and more we realised how prone pre-war HK was to overeating.

Gone too were the three or four gins which used to be regarded as an indispensable part of tiffin and in the Café Wiseman, probably the best organised of all, tiffins were served with a speed and smartness which was missing in the old days of 10% tipping.

The hotel of course provided the biggest contrast of all. Now tiffins were fixed at $1.50 and the last sign of old HK had gone with large notices informing their clientele that chits could no longer be signed and meantime cash would be appreciated.

So rigidly was this adhered to that where previously one ordered one’s meal, sat over it in leisure – signed a careless chit and sauntered off; now cash was paid before even covers were laid and – shades of the ‘Gripps’ – a meal lasting over 10-15 minutes was looked upon with disapproval.

But we had still to find a boat for our own gun running and we proceeded to Aberdeen where our first impression of the Navy was most unfavourable. A very snooty 2 ½ striper barred Tai’s and my entry and with a definitely superior air informed us it was up to him whether we could see Mike who was seeing the S.N.O., or not. In the end however when repartee was growing heated his excellency unbent and allowed us to stand in the open about 3 yds. from cover. There was an air raid on while a P.O. covered us with a tommy gun which was clearly a new weapon to him. Our own guns being stacked in a corner in charge of some grinning ratings later to be our shipmates on M.T.B.’s. The fact that we had Betty with us made us more annoyed but his superior highness had not deigned to notice us any more and our tempers being a bit frayed, our pride was rampant and enter the sacred portals we would not.

In the end Colls – later to die in that magnificent raid in the harbour in daylight – showed us over the French – a snappy little cruiser on the lines of an M.T.B. – fast and fairly quiet. All that remained now was to make the Yee contact and we were off to see the Wizard.

Before leaving for Aberdeen that morning we – Tai and I – had checked our motorboat for the evening job but in the evening when we returned to St.Joan’s, Mike had one of his ‘hunches’ – ideas in which I had by this time grown to put a good deal of faith. The A.P.C. oil tanks were one blaze of light – Japs. Were shelling them continuously, obviously with a view to keeping it going and clouds of thick black smoke were billowing out – the night itself was pitch black – black as the Earl of Hell’s waistcoat – and there was a high tide. It was a perfect night for a landing – which was actually made and this time we decided that we would not start running about the harbour on a job which was now pointless.

This morning the telephone had gone but Mike, on returning from H.Q. came with the news that the landing had been made and bridge heads established in the North Point area. That being the case, we decided to move into town to P.H.Q. From our window we had an excellent view of the M.T.B. raid up harbour. Although we missed the first pair we suddenly saw one – later found out to be Wagstaff’s – come racing up the harbour from Green Island in a straight line for Kowloon Bay. By this time the Japs. Were on both sides of the harbour and both M.G. and T.M. fire were brought to bear on the boat while to add to the strafing she was being bombed at the same time.

Suddenly she stopped, started to drift to the HK shore and while later we heard that one of the crew had swum ashore this was never verified. Later at Aberdeen we heard details of the why and wherefore. The M.T.B.’s had been ordered out to attack landing craft in the Kowloon Bay area. From a base at Green Island the first pair, Collingwood and Ashby, had gone in and by swamping and M.G. fire had carried out that task successfully. Helped by the element of surprise they got out again successfully although having to run under fire and bombing. The second pair, Parsons and Wagstaff who were ready to go were signalled to stop since the sinking had been carried out successfully but Wagstaff, either not receiving or disregarding the order had carried straight on.

In the late afternoon we again hit Aberdeen with a view to taking back some of our stores for use of police and others, and arrived there to find evidence that there was Jap. activity in the hills above Repulse Bay. Reports had been coming in that Aberdeen was taken and with us on the truck we had two police volunteers, Sgts. Watt and Kinloch. We arrived there to find tales of snipers but saw no signs of any activity. After the first load in which we had been willingly helped by some of the Ambulance Unit, Tai and I with the two police returned for a second load. By now it was dusk and rain was drizzling down. We had quite an odyssey, beginning with running flat into a Canadian road block at the Q.M.H. but by able use of a pair of wire clippers by a Canadian sergeant we got out and crawled along missing one and half hitting another at the entrance to Aberdeen village. The return trip was a mixture of narrowly missing road blocks – listening for challenges –finding oneself nearly over the edge of the road and hanging over the side directing Watt who was driving.

Bed that night was in P.H.Q. – in the Gloucester – and just before going to bed we heard  or rather overheard, conversation among the A.S.P.s which explained a lot of the apparent insensitivity of the police and the unwillingness of the senior men to send for volunteers to help the army at any time.

Their arguments were that they were not Army, the army had made the mess, let them get out of it. Their men were tired (as who was not?). It was their duty to preserve civil order – not to defend the colony – and if those views did not please the C.P. they would go over his head direct to the Governor.

And so with the comforting thought that the police were selling out – for the sergeants were more than willing to fight – we got off to sleep on the floor.

A queer jumble of a morning. We began by accompanying A.S.P. Searle, one of the police who went out and did things, on an anti-sniping raid at Happy Valley. All this proving another rumour we returned and almost at once set off on an anti-looting expedition. This was taking place at the French Store in Queen’s Road but the shooting of one and arrest of another, a member of the A.P.S. who, in company with the Police, were having as much as anyone under the guise of escorting it into lorries stowed that. Apart from this the Western District seemed quiet and there was nothing to support the stories at P.H.Q. of looting in Western Central; the streets being deserted practically in the Des Voeux Road area and, in Queen’s Road, far from busy.

After tiffin where I met Gray Dalziel, thoroughly disgusted and properly so at his job of superior nurse to ratings’ wives, we got orders which seemd to point to something good at last. A P.B. of the Middlesex had been cut off at Causeway Bay by a few Japs. Who were allegedly sniping from roof tops and side streets. The news, coming as it did from G.H.Q., was authentic and as no volunteers were allowed from the police, the three of us with Petro, a good enough fellow but who talked like bloody hell proceeded to the area in question. Arrived there I did a reconnaissance over Jardine’s hill but even with the help of the headmaster of the school there I could see no signs of activity. Proceeding further there were still no signs of Japs. Anywhere nor for that matter of our troops either. The P.B. certainly seemed deserted but at the distance 3-400 yds. it was difficult to be sure. Dusk was setting in and we had to be moving quickly if anything was to be done so Mike moved us back while he went to see if any change in the situation had been reported. There certainly had – the P.B. had been evacuated some hours before and we had been playing at soldiers in no man’s land.

In addition, orders now came to move to Aberdeen the following morning ready to move to Shatuakok. The evening was spent in feeding and argument – we, having contacted Betty’s roommates at the Gloucester, (indecipherable name/s written by hand above this: Lynn Harmond(?) Mrs….Cantas(?)) and after a fairly lively evening, culminated in Tai and and I heaving our bedding all over the hotel which was crammed even more to the corridors and finally going to sleep in Police quarters again.

This morning saw us out early at Aberdeen, Betty Kendal having been installed in the Gloucester with her friends of the previous evening. Arriving there we found it a pretty lively spot with what seemed to me a fair amount of trench mortar and serial bombing going on. Since the French was not available, arrangements had been made for us to use M.T.B.10 (Lieut. Commander Gandy) and we loaded her with the ammunition and Brens that we had left. When this was completed Tai and I returned to town, receiving one nasty shock on the way, as we passed the A.A. guns at Pokfulam, just as they were going into action.

We made St.Joan’s Apartments, retrieved our “toys” and a box of guncotton and made our way back, still with an air raid on. Stopping at Pokfulam on the way however, we benefited by the current lack of transport to the amount of roughly a gallon of Dairy Farm milk, which could not be conveyed to town.

Our arrival back coincided with the arrival ashore of the survivors of the Cicala, which had been caught at last, after the thirty seventh raid, raked from stem to stern with a stick of bombs, from the last plane of a flight of nine. Incidentally the story of how five bombs hit her in line, without completely sinking her, and causing only one death (The Gunner’s Mate) changed my idea of the effectiveness of bombs, and told as it was by “Tom Thumb” later to prove the best of good fellows, gave us a good impression and a lasting one it proved of the Navy in general and also gave us a new phrase for our repertoire “Bloody Rubbish” denoting anything unfortunate, unlucky, badly managed, nonsensical, etc.

Dinner we had on board and an eye-opener it proved to us, after our experience at army feeding stations during the last week – plenty of good and well-cooked food on the dot.

We were soon appointed to our various boats – evidently our original party was growing – and I found myself aboard ‘11’ with Collingwood and Legge while Tai landed on ‘07’ with Ashby and Gee. For some measure of safety the boats were “spread” at the harbour approaches and when, in the evening after dusk they congregated we found ourselves in the midst of old friends Parsons, Kennedy and Brewer. During the same evening too, the “Navy” unwillingly played us the only dirty trick of the campaign by leaving us on Parson’s boat, while they went off on an expedition up the harbour to machine gun landing craft. They were, however, gone a short time only and on their return we made Telegraph Bay for the night, and my last sensation was one of complete comfort as I sank off to sleep in one of their super beds. Definitely the Navy had something.

I was awakened by the growl of the engines and coming on deck, found we were in Aberdeen harbour tying up alongside one of the HK Yaumati ferries. It was a lovely clear morning, as indeed all of our Naval days were and, on Mike and Tai setting off for town, I settled down to a pleasant morning. My hopes were dashed though by the constant interruption of shelling and bombing, and here at last my first impressions of the Navy acquired during our first visit to the Aberdeen H.Q. were completely dispelled.

Here was the best morale I had seen, and that too among men who had, in their frailest of craft, no protection against shells or bombs, except wits, courage – and Lewis guns for any low-flying craft. Moored as they were, all one could do was duck and hope – yet the atmosphere was most cheerful, and the relationship between officers and men most pleasant. Everyone realised that they were in a tough spot – Aberdeen was no health resort – yet there was not the slightest sign of panic or disorder, and the crews ducked or sat and smoked with an attitude of “Oh well, what a ****_ _ g life” that was most infectious.

The same morning too I made my first acquaintance with those heavenly twins “Navy Rum and Navy Tobacco” whose praises should be sung in verse and not in mere prose.

On Mike and Tai’s return, the news came that the whole flotilla – or rather what was left of it, was coming on our expedition and the same evening the crews were given an idea of what was afoot, and advice on “kit requirements”. There they were, “all sailors” many of whom we found later had done practically no walking, looking forward with equanimity to the prospect of becoming guerrillas. Packing of kit required a fair amount of tact, since each man took a deal of persuading that a load of 50 lbs. would weigh heavily even on a stalwart pair of shoulders after a few miles. Still the packing was done and the most difficult part of the business now was in trying to cool their ardour and make them see that, quite probably, they would not move off the next minute.

Being more or less attached to the M.T.B.s by that time I did an hour on watch, a most enjoyable one too, with a perfect night – cool breezes and utter peace and stillness, seemingly miles away from the stuffy holes in which we had been hibernating.

There was a general feeling of disappointment abroad this morning that nothing had happened. Their value in HK was now practically nil, fuelling was a chancy business, repairs and slipping (matters of primary importance to these delicate craft) were impossible owing to a bombed slipway, and, in addition, no new torpedoes could be loaded into the tubes. So there they were: five M.T.B.s with no work to do – one already crocked – lying about all day, a target for any Japanese “Fei Kei” (‘plane) which prowled their way and taking all the punishment without even the pleasure of having a crack back. By this time landings on the Island were in full force and the only use made of them was the use of numbers 10 and 07 as fast ferryboats to Stanley.

Similar to yesterday, we, in company with 07 (our junior ship) lay alongside the ferry again, after coming in on a most glorious morning, and spent the day striking in stores and dodging shells and trench mortars. The crews, as a land force, were naturally short of equipment and with this in mind Legge and I paid a visit to H.Q. and there ransacked a huge store of loose equipment, webbing etc., belonging to the dead and wounded. It was a ghoulish job, prowling over dead men’s effects and not a very pleasant experience but, after all, the stuff was of no use to them. There was an amazing collection of gear apart from regulation equipment; haversacks and pockets had spilled open and, in the general disorder, could be found chequebooks, photographs, letters, pipes etc. and in one corner, we had an amazing haul of eight packets of ‘Chesterfield’.

Ultimately we collected what was of use to us, and, in addition, I managed to find the webbing equipment of our snooty friend of some days previous. (Foolishly he had left it “sculling” in his office, and it only took two seconds to acquire).

The ground floor was being used as a clearing station and the mixture of battalions was some indication of how confused the fighting had become. Middlesex, Canadians, Royal Scots, Volunteers and the Royal Navy, parties of whom by this time were defending the hills looking for snipers and small parties of Japanese which had infiltrated through our lines – they were all there in varying numbers, with a Volunteer unit at the main entrance looking towards Shouson Hill. The Naval parties, as a result both of the dark blue uniforms and complete lack of training in this type of warfare were playing the role of “prey” rather than that of hunter.

T.M. fire on the road was very steady and, although having no effect on the building at all, succeeded in keeping people’s heads down. Just as Legge and I came out – we were standing admiring the general view of shell bursts – the whistle of one sounded too close for comfort – down we went – a thud only a few feet away – a dud – thank God! – The ride back down to the jetty was carried out at a speed which left one no time for wondering what was going to happen next.

In the evening we put behind Ap Li Chau again and again still no orders. It was another lovely evening and during my hour of watch I realised how communicative men become in the early morning. Men I had only just met and who knew me only as “Mac”, “Jock” or “Sir” according to their ideas of what I was or whether their officer was present, while sharing a watch, opened up, and gave one all details of their lives and ideas on the Navy and life in general. It was the same evening too, that I noticed the intense admiration and interest they all had for Mike. All of them regular sailors and accustomed to taking orders, they seemed greatly impressed by the appearance of someone who, while obviously in command of things, yet gave the impression of being able to do things and who could be called “Mike” by the very people he was commanding without any ‘loss of face’ or apparent loss of efficiency.

Our vocabulary is now increasing and we have learned to use the expressions “Pongo” “Matloe” and “Pani” with accuracy. This was X’mas Eve and here we were again alongside our old friend the ferry, improving our speed in getting down especially when one shell hit the bow of the ferry, doing no damage.

There were one or two amusing incidents during the morning; the A.B. who, while carefully crossing the gangplank, was affected by the wave of a passing boat, fell in, and, on emerging, cursed the Navy, the War, the Japs, the Far East in general, and Aberdeen in particular, and, during the tirade, managed to find time for a detailed account of the Aberdeen sanitary system, with special reference to the ultimate destination of the sanitary engineer who had planned the same; the two small Chinese children whose air raid shelter consisted of a large wicker basket, the lid of which was closed during air raids and shelling; and our friend “Jixer” Prest (the Coxswain) who, while climbing out of the conning tower with the rum jar heard a shell coming – ducked – remembered the rum – reappeared, shielding the rum next his heart – and again carefully ducked to what shelter the thin planking of the vessel could afford. One last feat of gallantry worth recording is that of that gallant sailor Lieut. Ashby who, when a shell burst, instead of going flat, bowed gracefully showing a shiny polished blue serge “bottom” as his means of all round defence. Again, though, one had the feeling that it was good to be with such people. The whole business became a game played with Good Companions and a shell burst something to occasion a joke. By this time too, we had come fully to realise what Naval Hospitality means. In dealing with the army, one felt that they had no objection to your being with them but the navy somehow conveyed the impression that they would have objected to your not being with them.

And so, being Christmas eve a bottle of champagne was split among the two crews; the C.O.C. having warned troops against over celebration, and, under the impression that I was going on ahead that night with Parsons in 27 (the silent boat) as a scout I was looking forward to night, but again no orders, and so to bed, for what, although we did not know, was to be our last night in HK.

Christmas day saw another perfect HK winter day with warm sunshine and, sheltered as were by Ap Li Chau, there was no wind. We were indeed so sheltered that, in the afternoon, we managed to have a swim – albeit in somewhat oily water. Still, as the C.P.O. remarked, it would keep the mosquitoes away. Early in the afternoon rumours of a truce flag at Aberdeen started but stopped as quickly. It was for us the most boring day of the war. There was bombing and shelling going on over the hill but as far as we were concerned we might as well have been out of the war completely. So bored were we indeed that we welcomed a floating barge as a target for Bren and T.G. in which the crew had newly received instruction. The T.M. fire kept on intermittently each one sounding as Collingwood said “like a door slamming”, a very apt description.

((Note in margin: 1515 surrender))

Everyone was thoroughly browned off and even the double issue of rum didn’t help. Later in the afternoon, however, the M.G. fire seemed closer and at 5pm the signal came “Ready”. What was on now? Were we going or was there some job on? Still it was welcome as evidently there was something doing. Soon after No.10 came alongside with the news that HK had surrendered and that we were off. During this parley, figures appeared on the skyline and Legge at once grabbed his Lewis and started in. Luckily, as it turned out afterwards, my Bren had no magazine and by the time it was fitted orders not to fire were given. Evidently they were friends, but as to their identity we were to remain in ignorance as we were ordered to Telegraph Bay to contact the other three boats. As fate would have it, this was the very time our engines would not start and only after towing did they roar into life.

As soon as we started across the entrance to Aberdeen doors started slamming and up went a spout of water about 50 yds off our port bow. Taking the first available cover where I could be out of the way of the crew I found myself behind a depth charge with my Bren peeping coyly over. Following that doors kept slamming but each successive spout of water dropped further astern and thanks to the speed of our craft we were soon over and round the point where we rendezvoused the other two with their crews gorged on a X’mas dinner of chicken, cream etc. (The Dairy Farm was just above).

Obviously we could not move till dusk and we settled down to waiting. Dusk came and still no signal, 7 o’clock, 7.30 and only at 8 after what seemed hours of suspense we received orders to join the others. Out we came in one of the most beautiful evenings I have ever seen in HK. To the west over Lamma there was still a purplish afterglow – the sky was steely clear with odd stars coming out and on the starboard Lantau loomed up a dark purple mass with pinpricks of light at odd intervals. Behind us a building at Pokfulam was madly alight with masses of deep smoke showing up against the sky and beyond farther flames could be seen. There was a curious feeling of tragedy abroad – HK had fallen. Only 17 days and here we were off on a trip to China – for us at least there was the selfish satisfaction of knowing that there were to be no concentration camps.

The flotilla complete (?) we set off and at every angle up to Stanley fires could be seen. At that stage the night was by no means perfect – the moon throwing a path of glittering light, a queer crazy paving of sparkles over our courses. By degrees however it darkened and in the peculiar halflight it was difficult to discern the boat ahead apart from its phosphorescent light.

Only one incident worth recording occurred when well on the starboard bow a searchlight was seen – possibly some Jap. destroyer. Anyway it did not pick us up and in the ever gathering darkness on we went till off Ping Chau we stopped. Mike, Tai and I with Henry Hsu went ashore for any news of any possible Jap. movements in the area and by a stroke of luck Mike and Henry contacted the local guerrilla leader. Mention of Admiral Chan’s name speeded up matters and soon we had moved across to Namo where we disembarked after some hours of packing and stripping the boat of all available gear.

During this period of hurry and rush the most difficult task of all was to prevent the guerrillas, who seemed to have no idea of the old law of mine and thine, from grabbing all and sundry. Anything we did not want was theirs but this did not deter them from having a smack at any available articles especially arms.

Out of all this apparent flurry – junks appeared – kit disappeared aboard them, and the work of scuttling the M.T.B.s was carried out. This proved no easy task and we had to resort to axes. Even as it was when we left they showed no signs of sinking fast. Still it was dawn now and 6.15 saw the last party aboard a very silent launch – vaguely familiar from sailing days as one of the many craft which used to slip out of HK at dusk.

We landed on a lovely beach and soon moved off up a valley – each man now with his own pack – stores to follow later – and in the ever-growing light by padi and hill tracks – covered 2-3 miles to our stopping place, Wong Mi Chi – a small village set among heavy trees in perfect cover. By now it was broad daylight and we could look around and see just who was who and where we were. Here were our guerrilla allies with their inevitable Mausers and in addition to our M.T.B. friends had been added (Cdr.) Montague and the men of C410, and the official party of Admiral Chan, his A.D.C. Henry Hsu, Goring, Guest, Macmillan, Robinson, Oxford, McDougall and Ross. We were becoming a formidable party.

Breakfast was now ready and with it we had our first introduction to tangerines fresh from the tree – a delicacy I always associated with Christmas and tinfoil. The rest of the day was spent in sleep – until dusk – when, for the first time, we heard Mike’s famous – “Ready to march”.

Retracing our steps to Namo we took the coast track for a few miles during which it became clear to Tai and myself as rearguard that the guerrilla pace was certainly not Navy pace and that loads would have to be drastically cut down. It was, to say the least, disconcerting to find packets of ammunition lying at the path side and to see people already unable to keep up the pace.

From the coast we struck inland by the usual paths till after some 3-4 hours walking we reached a large village where we had our first sight of guerrilla organisation – the temple taken over and the floor laid with straw – hot tea ready and in fact, apart from the inevitable staring crowd, we could well believe that the arrival of 60 odd British sailors was an every day occurrence.

Reveille was called at 6 and after breakfast and the usual orgy of washing and teethbrushing (razors having been already packed away) – we readied to march at about 8. We were still fortunate with the weather and with a pleasant mild morning and easy going over padi spirits rose and it was a very cheerful party which strung out over the padi fields. At Wong Mo Hoi we were soon to have our first view of what J. occupation means to a village; burnt out houses being at a premium in what was, or rather had been, obviously a fairly prosperous market village. A few hours steady going saw us over the level and into the hills – a twisty trail being quite visible winding over the first range. The crossing of this proved a strain and packs which that morning had been carefully re-packed as a comfortable amount to carry grew too heavy and our following train of coolies grew still larger as overcoats, blankets and odds and ends proved to belong to the class of “not wanted on voyage”. The sun by this time was hot and it certainly was no joke climbing and Tai and I in our recognised position kept getting farther and farther in the rear. Everyone however was whipped up and after a rest proceeded down the other side in the manner of born mountaineers. Tea supplied by a neighbouring village revived us somewhat and our procession proceeded – via another smaller hill to the Tai Fung Hang Valley well in the hills. The whole countryside was lovely walking country although it was noticeable how little the fields were cultivated – again our J. friends.

After tiffin at Tai Fung Hang (Bully beef) and a general survey of the body – by now we boasted 3 sedan chairs – we went for our last hill, a short but decidedly steep one. This proved enough to stretch our party out and after crossing it and in the descent the party had stretched out to something over 1½ mile in length. On reaching the next valley this distance was more in the region of 2 miles and when we reached Tong Po, our last point before crossing the J. lines, the vanguard had been fairly well rested. A quick meal and in dusk we moved off – now in three parties each comprising two boats’ crew. Mike in the lead – myself in the middle – and Tai with the rearguard. Orders had been given for no smoking or talking and for our first time arms were carried ready.

Over the hill and then into what seemed an interminable plain through which ran the main road – which we had to cross – linking Tamshui and Lungkong. The feeling that we actually were in J. territory had given most of us a feeling of excitement although we could not help but feel that it would be a fairly unlucky patrol which came across us.

After an hour of this and fording a river we halted – it was getting cold now –then started across open moorland – crisscrossed with paths and tracks. During this stretch our nerves received a jolt when suddenly a shot clipped the silence followed by our guerrillas arguing fiercely with what we took to be one of their sentries. Nothing happened and after another hour suddenly we found ourselves crossing the road to carry on over more moorland. There was a slackening of tension now, although we were by no means clear. Gradually the moorland changed into low foothills and another river was forded. The scene here reminded me of photos of Dunkirk – the long line of men stretching from the beach into the river. Following this ((about 2 miles (?) A scribbled note says:See attached sheet, and on another copy this place in annotated: Page Omitted – I can’t find it anywhere, and the original diary starts with the following mid-sentence and a note on the manuscript saying: Dec 28^{th –}  I fear some of the 27^thand most of the 28^this missing for now.

Have now found in the original “Field” Diary one loose page headed ‘OMITTED’ and initialled as ‘Original’ by Pop. Transcription follows:

…about 2 miles landed us into a village for rest. This order changed to sleep and that night we slept – or rather lay on the ground – it was bitterly cold - & shivered & cursed the inhospitability of the villagers.))