The Royal Scots on the waterfront in the Wanchai became difficult to supply due to the intense shell fire. Some loaves and stew occasionally reached them. Chinese prostitutes, some of whom knew them in happier days, came out of their densely built-up Chinese quarters, oblivious to the danger, and offered flasks of green tea. They had no food to give, but they offered little gifts of aspirin tablets and safety-razor blades.
Some of the Wanchai streets were piled up with dead bodies; attempts were made to cart them off for burial in communal graves. “Refuse was gathering in heaps everywhere,” wrote 2nd Lieutenant Ford, who had rejoined D Company from hospital. “On one rubbish heap I saw a dead monkey and alongside it a dead baby, side by side.”
Each day was a terrible nightmare, particularly for the Chinese. Mrs Mabel Redwood, an Auxiliary nurse, was working day and night in a makeshift hospital at the racecourse and wrote in her diary, which is now at the Imperial War Museum in London: “After prolonged shelling, the planes came. They seemed to be directed at the communal kitchens where Chinese were being supplied daily with cooked rice. Later I ventured home. I saw more horror in that journey than I ever want to see again. They had got the Chinese queuing for the rice well and truly. I had to step over mutilated bodies. Poor things had no chance and there were no military objectives nearby.”
Fortress HQ suddenly received a message late at night that a large force of ‘Japanese cavalry’ was advancing across Happy Valley racecourse. Captains Iain MacGregor and Peter MacMillan, both on duty at the HQ, were sent with a small scratch force in a lorry with machine guns to engage them. Captain MacGregor saw “shapes of dozens of wraith-like animals which might have been cavalry. A number of bursts of machine-gun fire killed many of them; it transpired that the horses, terrified and bewildered, had escaped from the Jockey Club’s stables. One of my own Australian ponies was among those killed. It seems silly and illogical now, with all the smell and sight of human death constantly around us then, to have felt so much pity, disgust and compassion for those slaughtered animals.”10
MacGregor’s force was next ordered to fight off an enemy landing in the Wanchai. They discovered that the three large boats they saw contained friendly Chinese who had escaped from the Mainland. Another landing had apparently taken place on 17th December when retreating Gunner personnel at Pak Sha Wan, opposite Devil’s Peak in the northeast, had reported that “the enemy are as thick as leaves in the battery position”. Concentrated fire was brought down on over 100 people in small rubber boats and rafts. All were killed in the water and the position was reoccupied without opposition four hours later. It is likely that it was more fleeing Chinese rather than Japanese who were annihilated that night.
As the Japanese indiscriminately shelled and bombed Hong Kong, their armed fifth columnists became increasingly active. They attacked an AA searchlight position and incited the Chinese to riot. Transport drivers, among others, were encouraged to desert, sabotaging their vehicles before running away. Several traitors with primitive lamps “operated from a dry battery, with a small but adequate mirror, were reported signalling from the Island to the Mainland,” recorded General Maltby. “When these operators were intercepted they were shot… The morale of the civilian population remained shaky, chiefly due to rice distribution difficulties. The Chungking Government representatives had been most helpful in assisting in the maintenance of order… In the A.R.P. tunnels in certain cases armed gangs of robbers were operating. Pamphlets were dropped by the Japanese.”
On 17th December, on the same day that Zempei Masushima had chosen the landing sites on Hong Kong Island after swimming across the harbour, two Japanese launches carried their ‘peace party’ to Victoria. Sir Mark Young replied that he declined “absolutely to enter into negotiations for the surrender of Hong Kong, and takes this opportunity of notifying Lieutenant General Sakai and Vice Admiral Masaichi Mimi that he is not prepared to receive any further communications from them on the subject.”
“Jap envoys came over and said all military installations have been destroyed, no use going on fighting,” wrote Brigadier Lawson in his diary, which was lodged after the war in Wolsey Barracks, London, Ontario. “Governor told them to go back and destroy some more.”
Japanese bombers intensified their attacks; one bomb alone in a built-up area caused 150 serious civilian casualties. The long nightmare continued. “We were,” observed Gwen Dew, the young American journalist who had witnessed the first Japanese ‘peace mission’, “clay pigeons in a tiny shooting range”.
General Sakai lost patience with the Colony and reluctantly decided that he would have to invade the Island. He gave out orders accordingly: the sands of time were rapidly running out for the attackers and defenders alike.
Notes
1. File 982.013 (D3), NDHQ.
2. Report by Lt Gen. C Foulkes (CGS to the Minister of National Defence), 9.2.48, reproduced as Annex C in Vincent, C, No Reason Why, Ontario: Canada’s Wings, 1981.
3. Vincent, op. cit., p. 60.
4. Greenhous, B, “C” Force to Hong Kong: A Canadian Catastrophe 1941–1945, Canadian War Museum Historical Publication No. 30, 1997, p. 23.
5. Details of the Australian absentees are in Clarke, Michael, My War, self published, 1990, p. 152.
6. Naylor, Murray, Among Friends: the Scots Guards 1956–1993, London: Leo Cooper, 1995, p. 135.
7. Japan Times Weekly, 17.9.42.
8. Letter Man to author.
9. Letter Wallis to author.
10. Letter MacGregor to author.
CHAPTER 11
Triumph or Disaster:
The Japanese Landings
18th–19th December 1941
Sakai discussed his plans in Kowloon with Major General Sano, the Divisional Commander, who gave out the orders to regimental and battalion commanders. The landings would start at 10.00 p.m. on 18th December; they would all be launched against the northeast of the Island, whereas General Maltby expected the attack in the northwest.
The Japanese Division consisted of three Regiments, each equivalent to a Brigade, and each of which was to commit two of its three battalions to the attack.
Each battalion was organised on a four-company basis and was up to 1,000 men strong. It also contained a company of 12 heavy machine guns and a platoon of 70-mm support guns. Each battalion was supported by 12 75-mm field guns from the divisional artillery regiment.
The Shoji Regiment (230) was to attack 500 yards east of North Point, after embarking from west of the Kai Tak area. (See Map on pages 90–1.)
The Doi Regiment (228), following its success at the Shingmun Redoubt, was to embark from east of Kai Tak and land in the centre at Braemar.
Finally, the Tanaka Regiment (229) was to embark from the Devil’s Peak peninsula and land at Sau Ki Wan.1
Each regiment was to cross the harbour in two waves: the first in collapsible rowing boats, each of which carried 14 men. The second wave and follow-up troops were to cross by powered landing boats which would tow more assault craft. One hour was allowed for the first wave to cross. “The sunken shipping offered some concealment, but apprehension was felt that small bands of the British enemy might hide amidst the wrecks in a desperate effort to obstruct the crossing.”
The Japanese were acutely conscious that up to now their plans had not proved as successful as they wished on the Mainland. Compared to fighting against the Chinese, they had suffered considerable casualties. “Two or three British gunboats were active along the flank of our attacking unit during the offensive (on the Mainland), menacing by bombardment and obstructing our action considerably,” Colonel Tosaka recalled. “Their long range fortress artillery bombardments were extremely effective. The Japanese Army was greatly hampered, especially in moving its heavy guns. Little thought had been given to an attack on Hong Kong Island if indeed the British should entrench themselves there. In actuality the British Army did not show great resistance on the expected Gin Drinkers’ Line. However the Japanese Army at that t
ime was thrown into considerable confusion in making adjustments to the situation and new attack preparations.”2
* * * * *
The 18th December was a cool, overcast and rather miserable day. Father F J Deloughery, the Roman Catholic Chaplain to the Canadians, who had been among the first to be bombed during his Communion service at Shamshuipo Barracks, heard confessions, administered Holy Communion and comforted the soldiers as best he could. He had spent the last week visiting the companies by day and wounded in hospital by night.
That evening he had a long chat at Wong Nei Chong Gap with Brigadier Lawson. Both were worried about the Canadian companies, several of which had not received a hot meal for at least 24 hours. Why had the administration of the battalions tended to break down already? What were the Quartermasters, Company Second in Commands, Company Quartermaster Sergeants and others doing to ensure that in the five days before the Japanese attacked the Island, they could provide, at least, hot meals and drinks to their men? It was their responsibility. The Punjabis, Royal Scots and Rajputs were largely in the very front line overlooking the harbour. Couldn’t those well behind them meet the challenge of delivering hot meals to their soldiers?
The desertion of Chinese drivers, referred to earlier, was a factor. Under the defence scheme it had been decided that the NAAFI (Navy, Army, Air Force Institutes) would open canteen services in accessible areas. (This did not remove the responsibility of battalions to feed their own.) Alternative plans for NAAFI to send mobile canteens to visit troops in their positions fell through due to the lack of transport.
The food re-supply organisation included Wenzell Brown, a Hong Kong University professor, and Mrs Gwen Priestwood. The former recorded in his memoirs that, despite his best efforts, he was unable to find any of the Canadian “food distribution centres”. Mrs Priestwood was given a brilliant yellow milk wagon with pictures of cows plastered on it, and was asked to move tobacco, arms and food between stores. With an armed escort she raced through air raids, past barbed wire, wrecked buildings, shell holes and road blocks. Eventually the van was painted a dull, inconspicuous grey; she missed the cows’ calm, imperturbable faces.
* * * * *
Between 5.00 and 6.00 p.m. about 200 Japanese were seen to be approaching the Devil’s Peak pier in the far northeast. They were fired at by the Gunners. The Japanese retaliated just before dusk with an extremely heavy bombardment of Lei Mun. The soldiers there felt sure that the Japanese attack would come in a matter of hours straight at them. They were right.
That night Brigadier Lawson realised that his position at the Wong Nei Chong Gap was much too vulnerable. He decided to move it the following morning to a less exposed area half a mile to the west on Black’s Link. A new site had already been chosen and a telegraph link had been laid to it.
In the gathering darkness, the Japanese soldiers silently entered their assault craft while Rifleman Sydney Skelton scribbled in his diary; it eventually ended up in National Defence Headquarters, Ottawa. High in the mountains above Tytam Reservoir, the Rifleman had entered in his diary ten days earlier: “Our heavy guns can be heard now. They are firing at Japanese ships. With us are the Middlesex Regiment. They are a good bunch of chaps. Two of our boys have lost their minds. Gone crazy in the head. The bombing has snapped their minds. Some have been machine-gunned from the diving Japanese planes. Sixty-five per cent of us have had to be awake at night and no one is allowed to undress.”
As Colonel Doi stood at the water’s edge as his first boats pushed off from Kai Tak into the darkness, Sydney Skelton made the penultimate entry in his diary: “Huge fires are raging in Victoria. The bombardment is still on. This one day I shall never forget. Tomorrow will tell another story.” It did.
* * * * *
Fifty-four years later in the military cemetery at Stanley, John Harris and I were attending a moving ceremony arranged by the Royal British Legion. Wreaths were laid, prayers were said. A band softly played, Oh God, our help in ages past… We stood on the grass amidst the graves and flowers. Glancing to my side, I saw the grave closest to me. I read the name upon it – Rifleman S Skelton. My reaction? It was no sense of horror. Having become so familiar with the short entries in his diary over the years, I looked around me – to gather my thoughts, perhaps. I then looked at my friends on my left and right; their heads were bowed for we were praying for all those buried there. I looked at the blue sky, and then again at Sydney’s grave. He had come a long way from Canada, “the land of the free… ”. Even now, ten years on, I feel that he had found an eternal peace there – in a ‘foreign field’, it is true, but a more beautiful well-kept spot it would be hard to find. He is remembered now, in these pages. Indeed, to use the words familiar to all of us “… At the going down of the sun and in the morning, we will remember them.” So remember Rifleman Sydney Skelton. Remember also the other 500 Canadians who were killed, died of wounds or sickness or were reported missing.3
* * * * *
At 7.00 p.m. on the 18th, the 2nd Battalion 228 Regiment in groups of 14 silently embarked in the small collapsible assault craft. Colonel Doi climbed on a large barge which carried 80 officers and men of his tactical HQ.
The night was exceptionally dark. The sky was overcast with frequent showers of rain. Thick black smoke was being blown across the harbour from the burning oil tanks at North Point.
Colonel Doi gave the following account: “Halfway across the harbour, our attempt had gone undetected because the grounded ships concealed our move. But time and again the water was lit as brightly as broad daylight by the flare of burning heavy oil in the storage tanks on the opposite shore. Searchlight beams from Lyemun Point also played on the harbour. Streams of enemy machine-gun fire from the opposite shore and Lyemun Point slowed the boats, and since they failed to take a straight course, units were either mixed up or separated while they were still in the water. The resultant confusion made it almost impossible to maintain complete command of the battalion. Some boats had their oars broken and men rowed with their entrenching shovels. When exposed to enemy fire on the water, which offers no shelter, it is absolutely useless to turn the boats away from the direction of enemy fire, but perhaps it is only normal human psychology to react that way.
“It was a spectacular and grim crossing, but for the most part men went ashore on schedule. The assault boat carrying my leading battalion commander reached the spot (to the east of Braemar Point near the Taikoo Docks) where an enemy pill-box was located. He was wounded. The situation ashore was such that the squad leaders didn’t know the whereabouts of platoon leaders and the latter in turn did not know the position of company commanders. It was very difficult to maintain the battalion under complete command. The only chance under the circumstances was for the men, on reaching the shore in their assault boats, to form up as a group and charge into the enemy immediately.”
As the first wave approached the Island, they signalled to the second, still at Kai Tak, to start their crossing: “The harbour was still being illuminated by the searchlights and the flare of the burning oil. The enemy machine-gun fire was all the more intense. I, the Regimental Commander, led the 1st Battalion in the crossing. When we landed I found a wire net fence, something like the one ordinarily found around a tennis court. It blocked our advance inland. Unlike ordinary wire entanglements, the net could not be cut by wire cutters, and we spent some time climbing over it with a ladder which we had brought with us.
“Enemy machine-gun fire was as intense as ever. Our second wave was forced to lie prone at the water’s edge for a time after the landing. The anti-tank Company lost so many men that only one gun could be manned. It took three hours for the commander of the 1st Battalion to regain complete control of his battalion. The main reason for the delay in restoring command was that our shouting at the time of landing invited the enemy fire. Also runners who were dispatched failed to establish contact because of rampaging enemy Bren carriers. The only alternative was to join up and regroup by a slow process of communi
cating from one adjoining unit to another.” Their objectives were Jardine’s Lookout and beyond to Wong Nei Chong Gap.
On each side of Colonel Doi the first waves of the flanking regiments pushed inland. Colonel Shoji’s 230 Regiment was soon in considerable confusion among several concrete pill-boxes half a mile to the west at North Point. Shoji remained on the shore as his companies moved towards their objective – Mount Nicholson to the west of the Gap. The leading platoons quickly became pinned down by artillery fire.
On the extreme east, Colonel Tanaka’s 229 Regiment had a shorter crossing and landed between Sau Ki Wan and Lyemun Fort. They too headed rapidly inland with Mount Parker as one of their objectives.
The battalions, once ashore, were ordered to bypass opposition, secure the high ground well inland, and take the commanding features of Mount Parker, Mount Butler, Jardine’s Lookout and Wong Nei Chong Gap. On the following night – the 19th/20th of December, they were to attack west and southwest to capture Mount Nicholson and Repulse Bay. The three battalions not committed to the invasion were to remain in Kowloon to garrison the City and provide subsequent reinforcements.
No specific orders were issued regarding the disposal of prisoners.
* * * * *
“The landing of the enemy at North Point and Lyemun at approximately 20.30 hours appears to have been simultaneous and was closely followed by landings at Aldrich Bay, Taikoo Docks and the Sugar Refinery Wharf,” was the entry in the Fortress HQ War Diary Preliminary Summary.4
The next few hours were vital if Hong Kong Island was to be held. Or had General Maltby already left it too late? As already stated, 200 Japanese had been seen several hours earlier approaching the water’s edge from the Devil’s Peak peninsula – men of Colonel Tanaka’s No. 229 Regiment. Yet Maltby still clung to the belief that it was Victoria which was to be attacked from Kowloon. So he did not react to the visible threat. The British post-war Official History would criticise him for this error.
The Battle for Hong Kong 1941-1945 Page 11
