by Pacific War Uncensored: A War Correspondent's Unvarnished Account of the Fight Against Japan
The next day our ship was rolling horribly, and this went on for many hours. All the passengers were laid low, and as a result the dinning room was deserted. We had endured the aftermath of a severe storm, which caused a persistent roll in the sea. Eventually, though, the thick mist that covered the sea cleared, and we were abreast with Cape Ushant. The weather from then on improved, and everyone started to feel better. Marie became acquainted with her future colleagues at the Garrison School, who were also on board returning to Hong Kong. I felt rather strange being a civilian, and when people asked me what I was going to do, I had to reply that I didn’t know.
We passed Cape Finnisterre and headed towards our first destination, Gibraltar. A battalion of the Royal Welch Fusiliers were due to disembark there to relieve The Lincolns, who were due to come with us to take up duties in Hong Kong. The Welch Fusiliers brought their mascot on board, a big pure white goat with widespread horns painted in gilt, and also a pack of beagle hounds that they exercised each morning on deck. It was a strange thing to hear the baying of a hound way out at sea.
On the fourth day of our trip we were abreast of the mouth of the River Tagus, and we could see Lisbon very clearly. We had earlier been able to see some whales, as well as “oilers” and cargo steamers. Ahead of us was Cape St Vincent, and I paused to remember the crew of the submarine K5, who sank there due to unknown causes in 1919. Our course took us past the coast of Spain, which was fringed with yellow sand. Dotted among the green of the hills could be discerned little white cottages that seemed so far from civilisation that I wondered whether anybody inhabited them.
On our fifth day we sighted the coast of Morocco, just before entering the Straights of Gibraltar. We came in sight of Gibraltar, and as we approached the quayside, soldiers were there to welcome us, and the ship soon became the scene of orderly disorder. We went ashore in Gibraltar for a little sightseeing and also to exercise, having been confined to the ship for the past five days. Gibraltar Dockyard seemed strangely empty, due no doubt to the fact that the Mediterranean fleet were away exercising at sea, which was their usual routine at this time of the year. We walked out of the dockyard where there was a very dusty road, and uninviting amenities. The dockyard quarters were very much like London tenement buildings, and very ugly. Soon, however, we passed The Alameda Gardens, which are very well arranged and laid out with trees and tropical plants. Naturally they did not look very pretty at that time of the year, but in the summer were no doubt a beautiful sight.
We then passed under a very old archway, dated 1558 and built by Charles VI of Spain, and went into Main Street. The full length of Main Street was full of so-called “curio shops,” and as we passed them the proprietors of the shops stood on the pavement and tried to sell us their wares. We managed to find a tearoom to take some refreshment, and then returned to the ship. Nobody on board seemed to be very impressed by Gibraltar, and we were grateful when the Neuralia resumed its journey.
Our course then took us due east and we skirted the coast of Morocco. We became well acquainted with our fellow passengers while onboard, and the people from Hong Kong all seemed very nice and we hoped to make many friends in the colony. At nighttime The Lincolns sometimes prepared a dance on deck, which was illuminated with coloured lights and looked very pretty. On other nights a “sing-song” was arranged, which was fun for the passengers, but must have been a problem for the off-duty staff who were trying to sleep!
On the twelfth day of the voyage we arrived at Port Said. It was some time before the buildings on shore could be seen, and the first thing we saw was a monument erected to the memory of Ferdinand de Lesseps, the French engineer who planned and designed the construction of the Suez Canal, the most important waterway in the world. Passing the monument, we steamed parallel to the shore of Port Said harbour, along which were the various shipping company offices interspersed with restaurants and cafes. Eventually we arrived at The Suez Canal Company building, which was the most imposing building on the harbour. A little way past this building the Neuralia dropped anchor and in an incredibly short space of time we were surrounded by coal lighters, and crowded with natives whose bodies were covered with coal dust. The coaling ships in Port Said took a long time, occupying some five or six hours, and the whole process was carried out entirely by manual labour. The coal was carried on board in baskets and up steeply inclined planks leading to the ship’s bunkers. In the harbour there were ships from all nations, including a motor vessel from Glasgow, and lying astern was a ship from Marseilles and then another from Russia.
We eventually got to shore and upon landing, we found our way to the Boulevard de Fouad, the main thoroughfare of Port Said. There were shops of all descriptions, from modish Paris milliners to the lowest dealer of oriental trash. The Boulevard ran the full length of the town, then led down to the seafront to which we walked and found a sandy beach, with bathing huts all reminiscent of Bognor Regis at home. The sand was fine and loose and unpleasant to walk upon, and was effectively the edge of the desert upon which Port Said is built. We then walked along the breakwater leading up to the de Lesseps Statue. It was a splendid bronze monument, with de Lesseps name surrounded in laurels, and a fitting tribute to the man who halved the distance from East to West. In the evening we made our way back through town, which was all lit up, and then back towards the dockyard and ship, which had almost finished coaling.
The following day our ship passed through the Suez Canal, and the desert could be seen on either side of the Neuralia, with the Arabian Desert on the port side and the Sahara on the other. In the early morning there was an icy cold breeze blowing over the sands, which seemed remarkable considering the fierce heat that the desert reached during the day. As we proceeded along the canal, the banks gradually grew higher, obscuring our view across the sandy wastes, until we reached a point called the “deepest-cut” where the embankment was 52 feet high. From deepest-cut the banks gradually grew lower until there was an uninterrupted view across the desert on either side again, and in the far distance there were signs of habitation. An RAF aeroplane circled over our heads as we neared Ismailia, which was the first station on the canal.
The little quayside at Ismailia was pretty, and full of native crafts. Around Ismailia the palm trees grew in profusion, and their green seemed to be the more luxuriant in contrast to the white glare of empty desert. The Egyptian Camel Corps combed the banks on the lookout for smugglers of hashish, and nearby was a famous landmark, the tomb of Sheikh Enedek, who was the deadly enemy of the people who constructed the canal. He resented this invasion of his territory, and the engineers were greatly hampered by his constant attacks on them, until finally a settlement was made and a truce called. Along the route of the canal, relics of the Great War could also be seen, and there were remains of entrenchments and barbed wire entanglements, and with a powerful telescope morbid skeletons could also be seen. It was the battlefront occupied by the Australians in the Great War when they successfully protected the canal, and from here Allenby had commenced his march onto Jerusalem, which was a tremendous undertaking.
From this point onwards the Sahara side grew more varying, while on the Arabian side there was an unaltered empty expanse of desert. On the Sahara side the little stations of The Suez Canal Company were more frequent, with the biggest and most important of these being El Pantara, El Gunerol and Suakim. There was also a memorial of curious design, which had been erected by the French on the Sahara side. The laying of foundations for this memorial, and transport of the great stone blocks used in its construction, was no mean undertaking and took five years to complete. It was, however, a magnificent and imposing tribute to the heroes of The Great War for civilisation, and looked most impressive and imposing in the desert setting.
We passed mighty dredgers at various intervals down the canal, which was constantly being dredged from end to end. On each one of these was a solitary white engineer in charge of a native gang. There was care and maintenance of the canal banks constantly tak
ing place, and in places it had become necessary to sink concrete reinforcements. We were now in sight of Suez and Port Tewfik, which like most places looked very inviting when viewed from a ship, but I knew that these two particular places were ranked first among the most unsavoury spots in the area, with the sole purpose of being coaling stations.
We stopped a short while at Suez while the company’s agent came aboard to arrange payment for our ship passing through the canal. I was not certain of the amount of the toll, but I was told that it extended well into four figures. The charge was made at so much per head on the number of passengers, and also in accordance with the ship’s tonnage. It must have cost a mighty sum to allow Neuralia and her troops to traverse the seventy-odd miles of canal. During our short stop at Suez we had a beautiful view of the sun setting over the mighty Attaka Mountains. Somewhere in those mountains were the Wells of Moses, where according to biblical fable Moses was commanded by our Lord to strike the bare rock with his rod, whereupon water gushed forth. It is said that this water still runs, and has done so without a single lull right through the ages. It is also said that the water is always ice cold, and is sufficient to freeze a tin of fruit or a bottle of beer. Well done, Moses!
Our journey then took us onto the Red Sea where it started to get considerably hotter. The heat affected many passengers on board, and at nighttime the cabin was like a cauldron. The voyage through the Red Sea was the worst part of the whole journey, as it occupied the best part of four days, during which there was nothing in sight all around us but sea. However, one small item of interest to us was being able to see flying fish, and other passengers said they had seen sharks. After sixteen days of our voyage we left the Red Sea in our wake, and moved onto the cooler Indian Ocean. There was little else to see from onboard ship though, and it would take a further four days to reach our next destination, Colombo.
We eventually reached Colombo, and the troops gathered onboard ready to land for their first run ashore since Gibraltar. Colombo had an artificial harbour bounded by two breakwaters, similar to that of Gibraltar but much larger in size. The port was capable of accommodating a tremendous amount of shipping, and there were many classes there when we arrived. These included two blue funnel-lined boats, The Atenor and Achilles, and some Bibby Line boats, The Worcestershire and Somersetshire. There were also two ships of the H.M. Indian Marine, the Fowey and Fox, flying the white ensign of H.M. Navy.
As the ship got closer to the port it was surrounded by many smaller vessels as it had in Gibraltar. Among the earliest to board Neuralia were the Dhobi Wallahs, or in plainer language, the laundry men who are famous figures in Colombo. We commandeered one of these, and presented him with a large bundle of dirty washing which he promised to deliver at midnight. Nobody knows what mysterious methods these Dhobies resort to, but the fact remains that they will wash, starch and iron a whole pile of clothes in two or three hours, and return it completely dried and aired and perfectly laundered.
My first impression of landing in Colombo was not particularly good. It looked rather squalid from the landing jetty, with the usual crowd of insistent beggars and touts. We changed our money into native currency, receiving 13.5 Rupees for £1, and then wasted no time in getting clear of the jetty and into the town. We stopped at the Bristol Hotel for refreshment and afterwards took a rickshaw ride, with the rickshaw boy acting as a guide. “I like you see Cinnamon Gardens, you look see garden and then I take you Buddhist Temple, you can look there and then come back to city different way, I show you native town … very nice Sah!” All of which we agreed to, and so off we set at a good jog-trot. We saw the military barracks, and the army quarters that were very pleasantly situated and very clean, but did not pay a call because we had no acquaintances there at the present time.
Our road took us past a lot of recreation grounds belonging to various clubs. Cingalese people are very keen on all kinds of sport, and quite adept at Association Football. We saw several games in progress, the players being barefoot and dressed in coloured sarongs, and they could kick equally as well as a player at home who wears padded and studded boots. Most of the buildings we passed were tea factories, which was no surprise as tea planting and manufacturing was the staple industry of Ceylon. There were also many motor garages with the old familiar pumps, and advertising signs like the ones at home. We passed through a sort of residential street where the better class Europeans live, and where there were very attractive bungalows with pretty gardens. We stopped at the wall of one garden, and I was told by our rickshaw boy to stand on the seat of my rickshaw to pick a “temple flower for Lady.” These temple flowers were a shaded pink blossom growing in clusters, and had a peculiarly sweet and seductive perfume. Eventually we arrived at the famous Cinnamon Gardens, where we dismounted from our rickshaws and went into the gardens. A guide took us in hand and showed us all over the gardens, but it is impossible for me remember the varied and wonderful things he showed us, except for many Rubber, Banyan, and Cinnamon Trees.
Dusk was falling, and we had doubts about visiting the Buddhist Temple, but our guide was determined to take us. Arriving at the temple, we again dismounted and entered a courtyard that looked very mysterious and alluring in the blue evening light. In the centre of the courtyard stood a huge dome in which was supposed to be the Buddha’s spirit. Around this in the dark shadows one could distinguish the recumbent figures of worshippers lying prone. We were then led to the temple, where at the entrance we had to remove our shoes. Inside the temple we gazed in wonder at the recumbent figures of Buddha and all his relations. We laid flowers on the altar at the invitation of an old lady, who was paying her devotions. The walls were covered with crude illustrations of the life of Buddha, but it was a wonderful place. We then made our way to the Preaching Hall, where the Buddhist followers congregated daily to be exhorted by yellow-robbed priests.
It was soon time to leave and return to the ship. Upon reaching the jetty we dismissed our faithful steed with a payment amounting to about three shillings, which was small payment in truth for our man who carried us some seven miles or more in tropical heat. He explained that he had been forty years with his rickshaw, and did not find it hard work; he also said he could run seven miles at a stretch, and had four sons!
We set sail again, with another four days of our voyage until we were to reach our destination of Singapore. We were left with fond memories of Colombo, but life onboard the Neuralia during the remaining days was quite “hum-drum.” We reached Singapore on 8th November and were greeted by monsoon weather, which prevented us from going ashore immediately. On 13th November we then reached Hong Kong, and were greeted by friends of Marie called the Freemans, who took us to our quarters in the barracks. Marie was made the Head School Mistress of the garrison school on Garden Road, which was on the lower part of the Hong Kong peak. She was given a quarter almost next to the school, and I set about making our accommodation comfortable.
I then needed to look for a job, and had envisaged that this would not prove to be too much of a problem. Among the many applications I made were enquiries to the Public Works Department, the Hong Kong Dockyards and British American Tobacco Company. However, I found that prospects were not much better in Hong Kong than they were back in Britain, and instead of finding available vacancies I found that most organisations were making people redundant, with large number of Europeans out of work. I was then sent for by the Naval Hospital, as they were conducting a survey of all disabled servicemen in receipt of a pension. It seemed that the government was intent on cutting down expenses, and they were reviewing the circumstances of anybody in receipt of a disability pension. I had to go before a tribunal comprising various surgeons and officers, and they asked me questions about my circumstances. The upshot of this meeting was that my pension, which at that time was sixty-four pounds per year, was to be cut by ten percent, which was an experience that left me feeling very bitter.
Life in Hong Kong on the busy Queens Road Central, as depicted in a postcard
from the 1930’s. Author collection
Our finances became a great anxiety to me, especially as Marie had told me that she was pregnant. In a desperate attempt to get a job, I put an advert in a local newspaper offering my services as a private tutor in English and Maths. To my surprise, the business became quite lucrative, and I became tutor to all kinds of people. One of the people that I taught English to was a businessman called Mr. Al Hoi Choi, who told me that he wanted to start a business in Hong Kong and asked me if I had any ideas. I suggested to him that there was an opening for an advertising agency, and that if he wanted to put up the money then I would have a go at running it for him. He liked this plan and rented an office, from which we then started what we rather grandly called “The International Advertising Service.” One of our first projects was for a local cinema that wanted to improve the leaflets that they handed out advertising the films being shown. I thought that this could be developed into a magazine, which had pictures of the film stars as well as details about the films. We started producing the magazine, and in addition to information about the films, also managed to fill it with a variety of advertisements. The magazine proved to be a great success, but in spite of this, I was still looking for something better.
Hong Kong Island in the 1930’s before the Japanese invasion, where Harold had a variety of jobs before becoming a newspaperman. Author collection
Marie was now heavily pregnant, and eventually gave birth to a baby girl in Victoria Hospital, who we named Patricia Marie. Now with my additional responsibilities, I intensified my search for a more permanent and secure job. Before long an opportunity arose when I was introduced one day to Mr. Miron Simon, the manager of an American firm of stockbrokers called Swan, Culbertson and Fritz. They were quite well established in Hong Kong, and worked mainly at night because of the time difference between Hong Kong and New York. The position that Mr. Simon wanted me to take up was handling telephone enquiries regarding trading on the stock markets.
