On the 16th, Coast Defence guns were turned on to what was left of our shipping in the harbour to prevent capture intact by the Japanese. By this time, most of the mountain and field guns, which had been brought over from the mainland, helped to boost our beach defence positions.
We were faced with daily attacks on forts and positions in Hong Kong, both by enemy aircraft and gunfire from the mainland, while our pillboxes along the waterfront as well as Belcher’s Fort, the Naval Dockyard, Taikoo Dockyard, Lyemun, and Sai Wan Forts, were targets for intensified bombardment. One troop of 18 pdr. guns at Braemar (Quarry Bay) were completely destroyed and most of the Indian gunners killed or injured. Daily bombardments were also being made on the Peak area and Mount Davis, a 9.2" gun position. Incidentally, a large calibre shell fired from the mainland, hit one of the ventilators leading to the "bombproof" plotting room at the 9.2" gun position on Mount Davis. It was deflected down the shaft, and after hitting the floor, rolled across the room and ended up between the legs of a very surprised telephonist - and failed to explode!
From about the 16th and 17th onwards, we were nightly waiting for the expected attack. These nights were incredibly peaceful, with only spasmodic shellfire, and the ships lying in the harbour appeared so ghostly and serene that it seemed fantastic that only a few hundred yards across the water was a large force of Japanese troops waiting to spring.
In an effort to demoralise our troops the Japanese used to play very sentimental and nostalgic tunes through loudspeakers, one of their favourites being "Home Sweet Home", sung by Deanna Durbin. It is easy to imagine how effective this would be under such conditions. It is hard to put our feelings at that time into words, but I think they are rather well expressed by the following poem, which was made up by one of our officers on the spot: it is probably a little out of place in this attempted record of events, but it is so indicative of our thoughts at the time that I feel this diary would be incomplete without it:
The ghostly ships at anchor lay
Grey Phantoms of the night,
The soldiers gazed across the bay
To where the foe in cover lay
Preparing for the fight.
Behind the mountains grim and bare,
Like a wounded lion, we lay.
O, that the mother lion were there
To help defend her peaceful lair,
And win the hard-fought day.
The soldiers strained their weary sight,
Alert both eye and ear,
When through the mystic hush of night,
Beneath the tropic wan moonlight,
A sound came, low and clear.
Nay, 'twas not the sound of Death's patrol,
Nor soldiers in array,
Nor screaming bomb with thunderous roll,
Nor shell to rend the shrinking soul
From out its quivering clay.
No, not the sounds of battle rang,
But 'cross the waves smooth flow,
The sweet Deana Durbin sang,
Ah me, it gave my heart a pang,
This song of long ago.
On the 16th, I accompanied a mobile patrol to make a round trip of the Island to visit our beach defence positions. It may give an insight on general conditions to describe this trip:
Leaving Stanley Fort, where our artillery was firing on strategic points on the mainland, we arrived at Stanley Village to run straight into a dive-bombing attack on Chung Hom Kok (West Bay), a 6” gun position and an A.A. position. The weather was sunny and clear. We went on to visit other beach defence positions along the south side of the Island. Repulse Bay and Deepwater Bay were hives of activity, being screened by hills from Mainland gunfire, while R.E. workshops were under canvas in the vicinity of Bennett’s Hill, having been shifted from exposed positions in Victoria.
On arriving at the foot of Mount Davis we found heavy shelling in progress from Kowloon. Japanese planes were bombing Stonecutters Island in the harbour, in ignorance of the fact that the island had already been evacuated and the naval wireless installations destroyed. An air raid was also in progress on Western Market, a densely populated area, causing many casualties among the Chinese civilians. We went on to Belcher’s Fort where, from the 4.7”-gun position, it was possible to watch Japanese movements as they proceeded along the Castle Peak Road on the other side of the harbour. They were under fire from our artillery. The harbour was littered with sinking or sunken vessels with an anti-invasion net running from the western end of the harbour. Kowloon, itself, seemed to be hardly touched by air raids or the recent street fighting, as our rearguard action, before evacuation, had mainly taken place in the vicinity of Kai Tak aerodrome, but we who had friends among the civilian population shuddered to think of what was happening there, for we all knew that it was the policy of the Japanese Army to allow their soldiers, after capture of a town, to loot and run riot for a few hours.
Leaving Belcher’s Fort (fortunately, as a few hours later it was destroyed by heavy shelling), we ran the gauntlet of snipers and a light artillery gun firing from the warehouse at Holt’s Wharf in Kowloon onto the open stretch of road by the Naval Dockyard. The dockyard and the military barracks nearby were partly in ruins, as were the houses and shops facing the harbour.
At Braemar in the Quarry Bay area, a defence position, we found it under heavy bombardment with a large paint factory nearby in flames, endangering our 18 pdr. ammunition stored close by. We joined in the salvaging of the ammunition and transferred it to slit trenches but, unfortunately, this turned out to be a waste of time as the whole position was destroyed the next day. The thick smoke from the burning factory covered the eastern end of the harbour and made observation of the mainland most difficult. Tai Koo and Sai Wan Ho were also under shellfire as the mainland guns were ranging on the Island Road between Sai Wan Fort and Mount Parker.
We completed our trip by visiting Beach Defence positions at Shek O, then returned to Stanley which was now being dive-bombed regularly by naval aircraft. One stick of bombs caught our Battery Headquarters, injuring some of the staff.