Within a few hours of the initial assault on D Company sector, the situation facing the 2/20th was looking bleak. While the Aussies had inflicted considerable damage on the enemy, the Japs still kept coming. Backed up by seemingly endless support on the ground and superiority in the air, the Japanese were now taking advantage of gaps in the Allied lines – a risk Bennett had noted a few days earlier.
For George Daldry it was a night he would never forget. It would be the last time he saw his brother Charles, who was also in D Company. The brothers were exceptionally close and would do anything for each other. Charlie, who was on lookout duty down on the beach, was recovering from malaria, as was his close friend Spud Murphy. George felt sorry for his older brother and volunteered to take his place, but Charlie was having none of it, insisting he wanted to stay with Spud. It was a decision that cost him his life.
‘Unfortunately the Japs landed shortly afterwards and he died a terrible death – we think he was bayoneted,’ George recalled in later years.25
Moments of mateship and courage under fire were common that night. They were qualities that exemplified the spirit of the 8th Division, though not everyone covered themselves in glory.
Henry Dietz remembers how one officer was so scared he scarpered and left his men to it. ‘We knew the Japs were coming,’ said Henry. All of a sudden the officer shouted, ‘Don’t do anything until I give you the order to do it.’
Henry continued: ‘I’m trying to pass this message down the line when I see this bloke of ours running away through the rubber plantation – he just cleared out and left us.’26
It wasn’t an isolated incident. Courage was also in short supply when another officer deserted his troops near the Kranji River.
Scotsman Jimmy Houston was with a group of men who were suddenly confronted by Japanese on the river bank.
‘About fifty of us lads who were surrounded by Japs were not strong enough to swim the river,’ he recorded in his diary. ‘Well, this officer, instead of helping them across the river, dived in and swam for his life, leaving them all to look after themselves.’27
Jimmy, a tough Glaswegian-born dock worker, survived but little is known about the fate of the others.
Was this cowardice or simply part of the natural human instinct to stay alive? Who knows how people will react to the threat of violent death until they face a similar situation?
While Jimmy Houston could look after himself, Henry Dietz sympathised with those who chose to run.
‘You can’t call it cowardice. It’s what happens to a bloke when he can’t control himself in action. I suppose we were all nearly at cracking point,’ he told me. ‘I don’t care how good you are, there’s nobody who could honestly tell you they weren’t frightened then.’28
With the two Australian brigades out of contact with each other, the 22nd Brigade had no choice but to retreat. By dawn some units had been overrun, others were completely surrounded. Once again the Japanese pincer movement which had been so successful on the mainland was proving to be deadly effective during the assault of Singapore.
In the centre of the fight the 2/18th Australian Infantry Battalion had lost more than half of its men. The 2/20th Infantry Battalion had fared little better, with its right flank heavily committed. To the left the 2/19th Infantry Battalion was also in trouble as it became outflanked. Only B Company was left standing as it faced up to the enemy’s initial landings, but it would not be long before it too was forced to join the withdrawal south.
It was an unedifying sight as the exhausted and walking wounded from the defeated Australian battalions made their way inland, some by road, others through the thick jungle. Those who were not capable of making the journey on foot were hoisted into trucks which would ferry them to hospital. At least that was the idea, but with the tide turning against the Allies nothing was assured.
As one convoy set off along Neo Tiew Road at dawn, it was ambushed. Only those fortunate enough to be in the trucks at the rear were able to escape into the jungle and avoid being massacred.
Among the fatalities that day was Lieutenant-Colonel Charles Assheton, the 2/20th Battalion’s Kalgoorlie-born commanding officer. He had been instrumental in providing cover for the retreat of his men who were under fire from enemy units, and was making his way to Ama Keng to help others when he was hit by a blast of automatic gunfire. At precisely 11.30 am on the morning of 9 February 1942, the man whose bravery and honour was so respected by his men was dead. He was only 40.
Assheton had been a legend among the ranks of the 8th Division but his loss would be overshadowed by even worse to come.
The last act in the battle for Singapore was only just beginning. The question was, how long would it have to go? The enemy’s rapid advance had already dealt the Allies a disastrous blow, and Major-General Gordon Bennett was in no mood to join them for the final curtain.
Chapter 10
‘THE BATTLE MUST BE FOUGHT TO THE BITTER END’
Desperate though the situation appeared, the 8th Division was in no mood to give in. Although the 2/20th, 2/18th and 2/19th Battalions had suffered heavy losses overnight, they were already reorganising themselves and gathering together in defensive positions in readiness for further action.
The 2/18th, which was 330 strong, went into position in the Choa Chu Kang Road around Bulim village. The 2/29th was placed along Jurong Road. About 150 survivors of the 2/10th Field Company and a small party from the 2/20th joined forces and the 2/19th’s A Company was placed in a reserve position at the rear of the 2/18th.1
Major-General Bennett ordered his artillery commander to support the 22nd and 27th Australian Infantry Brigades, as well as the 44th Indian Brigade. If they could make a stand along the so-called Bulim line, they might have half a chance of stalling the invaders.
About midnight on 10 February the plan was further amended when Bennett decided to withdraw the 22nd Australian Infantry Brigade to a line between Kranji and Jurong. An hour later General Percival issued his final orders for the defence of Singapore. Bennett was to take complete responsibility for the western area northeast of Bukit Timah village.
As Brigadier Harold Taylor, commander of the 22nd Brigade, moved to carry out the plan, he got a bit ahead of himself. On his way to reconnoitre the new positions he called on Bennett, who tersely reproved him for implementing Percival’s secret order before being instructed to do so.
Bombarded by orders from both Bennett and Percival, Taylor, ever the realist, concluded that Percival had set his battalions an almost impossible task. Not only would they have to occupy their first-stage positions in darkness in unknown territory, but they would have no opportunity of reconnoitering for their subsequent advance. In short it was a disaster waiting to happen.2
The military appeared to be running around in ever-decreasing circles, effectively making things up as they went along. It was obvious there were too many chiefs. General Archibald Wavell flew in to make a lightning-quick visit to Bennett’s headquarters with General Percival, only to learn on arrival that the Kranji-Jurong defence line had already been lost. The commander-in-chief was not happy and immediately ordered the line be retaken. It was vital that the Kranji–Jurong line be used as a bulwark against the enemy thrust from the west, he insisted.
This was fine in theory but made no allowance for the facts. Much of the island was in chaos and the Allied troops were unsure which way to turn. Even Brigadier Taylor, who sensed a debacle in the making, protested in vain against Wavell’s plan for a counterattack.
The top-level meeting between Wavell, Percival and Bennett was punctuated by a series of explosions. As if they needed any more convincing that the Japanese bombardment was getting nearer, their office in Western Command Headquarters was shaken by a bombing raid on the building.
Significantly Bennett was the only member of the group who wasn’t fazed by the blasts. As the bombs fell thick and fast everybody else dived under the table and any other cover that was available.
It was an ‘unedifying spectacle’, wrote General Percival. ‘There was a good deal of debris and a few casualties outside, but the party of VIPs escaped untouched, though I lost both my car and my field glasses,’ he recalled.3
Once again Bennett had demonstrated his fearless response to mortal danger. Frank Legg, the war correspondent who went on to write a detailed biography of the 8th Division’s commander, believes the episode did much to boost Bennett’s image in the eyes of his men.
‘What Bennett’s staff remember of this incident was that, alone of the three, Gordon Bennett refused to seek cover and remained erect until he was joined, a little sheepishly, by the others,’ he said. ‘The story may be apocryphal. At least it shows the admiration the 8th Division entertained for its commander who, whatever the circumstances, refused to display the slightest sign of fear.’ 4
Bennett himself was more complimentary about his fellow officers’ behaviour, claiming that Wavell and Percival had shown exemplary coolness. Nevertheless he agreed that it was a miracle they had all survived.5
Meanwhile, Japanese troops had reached the Kranji ammunition magazine, which Allied engineers should have destroyed earlier. The ammunition had been stored and kept in reserve in anticipation of a prolonged period of resistance. Now it was in enemy hands.
The last of the serviceable aircraft and their remaining crews on Singapore were also told to leave. They withdrew to the Dutch East Indies leaving the Allies devoid of all air support. The island had never been more exposed.
Yet on the ground, at least, the number of British, Indian and Australian troops far outweighed those of the enemy.
As General Wavell was to observe in his order of the day: ‘It is certain that our troops on Singapore Island greatly outnumber any Japanese that have crossed the Straits. We must defeat them. Our whole fighting reputation is at stake and the honour of the British Empire.’ 6
It was impossible to disagree with the sentiments. In theory the Allies should have been in a strong position. If only they would send their entire force into action they might just, conceivably, stop the enemy in their tracks.
Recent history has only served to reinforce Wavell’s view: ‘The Americans have held out in the Bataan Peninsula against far greater odds, the Russians are turning back the picked strength of the Germans, the Chinese, with almost complete lack of modern equipment, have held the Japanese for four-and-a-half years. It will be disgraceful if we yield our boasted fortress of Singapore to inferior enemy forces.’7
General Percival was of the same mind as Wavell and noted that some troops were not showing ‘the fighting spirit expected of men of the British Empire’. He went on: ‘It will be a lasting disgrace if we are defeated by an army of clever gangsters many times inferior in numbers to our men. The spirit of aggression and determination to stick it out must be inculcated in all ranks. There must be no further withdrawals without orders. There are too many fighting men in the back areas. Every available man who is not doing essential work must be used to stop the invader.’8
Back in London, Churchill was quick to jump on the fact that the Allies had nearly 100,000 men in Singapore.
In a cable to Wavell he observed, ‘It is doubtful whether the Japanese have as many in the whole Malaya peninsula. In these circumstances the defenders must greatly outnumber Japanese forces who have crossed the Straits and in a well-contested battle they should destroy them.’9
Churchill exhorted his regional commander not to countenance any thought of saving the troops or sparing the civilian population: ‘The battle must be fought to the bitter end at all costs. Commanders and senior officers should die with their troops. I rely on you to show no mercy to weakness in any form … the whole reputation of our country and our race is involved.’10
This was stirring stuff but it conveniently ignored the reality of Britain’s lack of planning and foresight. Given that the Malayan campaign had been virtually lost at sea and in the air within a few days of its start, one might also accuse Churchill of being wise after the event.11
Privately Wavell conceded that he was ‘without much confidence in any prolonged resistance’ and cabled the British prime minister accordingly, admitting that the battle for Singapore was not going well.12
But why? Was it simply a case of Japan being the far superior force or could the blame be put at the feet of the retreating Allies? Was there an essential weakness in their character, a fatal flaw in their fighting spirit?
Maybe the answer could be found in the back blocks of Singapore, where thousands of leaderless men were roaming the streets without any sense of purpose, except to avoid death or capture. Many were stragglers who had been separated from their units and did not know which way to turn. Confused and exhausted after weeks of battle, they searched for food and shelter in an increasingly anarchic atmosphere.
The Official Report of Operations of the 8th Australian Division in Malaya alluded to the crisis in what it described as a ‘most disturbing report … to the effect that there were 2000 AIF troops in Singapore [town].
‘The staff captain of the 22nd Australian Infantry Brigade was despatched without transport to collect these men and transfer them to their units. Some stragglers were found but the number originally stated seems an exaggeration.’
A check of units seemed to establish that all the artillery, signals and engineers were still at their posts and the 27th Brigade was intact. About 700 men who had been forced to retreat when the Japanese landed on the coast were found at Base Depot being reclothed and re-armed.
Yet undeniably an uncertain number had headed for the docks in search of some means of escape.
‘There were many fighting men, Australian, British and Indians, wandering around the docks attempting to board ships, when their place was at the front,’ the 8th Division’s Official Operations report later confirmed.
There was no reason to disbelieve this account, coming as it did from Colonel Jim Thyer, Bennett’s chief of staff, who compiled the report after the war from a narrative by Colonel Charles Kappe.
Once again it all came down to a lack of planning. In almost every case there had been a failure to establish collecting posts for those who were left behind and there were no unit representatives present to guide the men back to their HQs.13
General Bennett’s immediate assessment of the problem revealed there were definitely men who were absent without leave. He described most of them as recent arrivals from Australia, where they had been hastily recruited and despatched. Most hadn’t even fired a rifle, as if this excused their behaviour. Perhaps the 8th Division’s commander chose to ignore the ill-discipline of some of his men, fearing it would taint the positive image won during the gritty battles of Gemas and Muar. Whatever his reasoning, further evidence would soon emerge of a more damning lack of order, one that would blur the distinction between straggler and deserter.
Not that most of the division hadn’t risen to the occasion. Back on the front line individual units continued to defend the island, a third of which was now in Japanese hands. Over the previous 48 hours there had been countless examples of action beyond the call of duty. The 2/18th Battalion’s carrier platoon was engaged in a bitter struggle which wiped out close to an entire company of Japanese around Tengah airfield. The 2/20th, who had already trekked their way through thick jungle during the withdrawal from the Kranji, were hoping to regroup at Bulim, to the south of Tengah airfield. This was a high-risk strategy and there were numerous near-misses and occasional tragedies in its prosecution.
Some higher power must have been watching over John Cook that day. Still only 20, he’d given up his job as a driver with Australian Glassworks in Sydney to join up. Now he was lying next to his childhood mate Roger Mort in a field, as enemy machine gun fire zipped overhead. The two C Company men thought they were well-hidden until a stray bullet hit Mort in the back.
Ever the loyal friend, Roger’s first thought was for John. ‘You okay?’ he asked.
John muttered a reas
suring ‘yeah’ before noticing the blood pouring from his mate’s upper body. The gaping wound in his back was to prove fatal. John could do little but offer words of comfort and Roger Charles Mort died soon afterwards.14
Mick McAuliffe, who before the war had worked in dairy farming in northern New South Wales, also came under fire as he made his way with other members of B Company towards Bukit Timah, where he hoped to find sanctuary. He was seeking to get a better picture of how the Allies were going, but his more immediate concern was how to avoid an enemy bullet. His mates were going down like skittles.
‘Two of the blokes who came over with me on the Aquitania got killed but I was lucky they missed me,’ he told me. ‘Before we knew what was happening the Japs surrounded us. It was uncanny. They were behind us and opened fire. It was like all hell had broken loose – you didn’t know whether it was coming from east or west, but somehow I survived it.’15
John Chippendale, who was in the 8th Corps of Signals, had several lucky escapes with five of his mates while on patrol in the Bukit Timah area. They’d already been shelled and bombed by Japanese aircraft and had dug a three-foot (1-m) deep slit trench to shelter in.
‘After the planes left us shaken but not hurt, that slit trench went down to six feet [2 m] deep very quickly,’ he recalled.16
Sydney-born John, who was in his early twenties, scrounged sheets of corrugated iron and cut down some trees to cover the trench. ‘We’d have had to have taken a direct hit to be hurt.’17
Later he had an even closer shave as he bent down to pick up a five-cent piece in the road when a bullet hit the tarmac just in front of him. Zigzagging across the road to avoid the sniper’s fire, he found himself in the abandoned French Embassy, where he came across a fully loaded, automatic pistol. John seized the firearm and went outside to search for the person who’d nearly shot him.
Hero or Deserter? Page 14
