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Like gathering storm clouds preparations for war began early in 1940 in Singapore. I was ten years old and a boarder at St.Patrick's boys school run by the De La Salle Christian Brothers. It was situated near Changi on the East Coast road with the domitories and living accomodation facing the sea. I had been here since the age of seven when I was unceremoniously transferred from the Convent of the Holy Infant Jesus in the town. Due to the divorce of my parents I was in the care of the nuns from the age of two. Life in the convent was very strict for the hand-full of boys there and we seemed to spend most of our time in prayer instead of play. I was a server at mass daily and we ate our meals in silence. It was such an improvement to be here in a proper boy's school away from all the prudery and nonsense of the convent. Life was still tough and disciplined. The earliest signs of the impending war were the concrete pillboxes mushrooming on the coast with barbed wire defenses all along the beach.This ended our saturday morning swim in the sea which I loved. Then we enthusiastically responded to the propaganda call to help the war effort by collecting scrap metal from the countryside.
The military exercises began with low flying aircraft dropping flour bombs on the pillboxes. This was great entertainment and we loved it. Suddenly out of the blue we were all summoned to the assembly hall where Brother Director dropped his bomb shell. The school was to close immediately as the Australian Army had commandeered it so everyone had to return home. It was a shock for me and a greater one for Dad living in a rented house in a Kampong or Malay village. He worked for"The Straits Steamship company" in the city as a bookkeeper. It was an unexpected holiday for me so I relished all this freedom and made the most of it by plaing with the Malay children from dawn to dusk. We watched the build-up for war as thousands of soldiers flooded into Singapore from Britain,Australia and India. We were fascinated by all the different uniforms, the vehicles and the aircraft. Blemheim bombers and stubby winged Brewster Buffalo fighters flew low from their base at Kallang nearby. Dad joined the ARP with great gusto and I helped build our air-raid shelter in the garden. The newspapers assured everyone that all this show of force would make Japan hesitate before attacking Fortress Singapore. "They would get a bloody nose" said Dad. When the battle ships Prince of Wales and Repulse arrived with a great fanfare everyone including me were convinced that all was well.It was business as usual in the city and the entertainment centres like "The new world,Happy world and Great world" were packed with soldiers looking for a good time with the many pretty Asian girls. Mean while their officers relaxed at the Raffles Club.Dad was busy enforcing the black-out during mock raids whilst I kept a keen eye for "Fifth column" spies we were told to look out for. It was fun. Little did I realise what was in store for us in the near future nor did Dad, the Govenor and all the Top Brass in charge of our lives. It was sleep before a nightmare. Awakened by gun fire I sheltered under our dinning table whilst Japanese bombers rained their bombs down on Singapore city and nearby Kallang airfield.It was the eighth of December 1941and the same time Pearl Harbour was attacked in Hawaii. The following day I went with Dad to the City to see the damage done and I remember seeing “Guthrie’s” building in ruins. Passing Kallang airfield in the bus we saw rows of damaged aircraft at the sides of the runway. Our air defence was in ruins so we would have to pay for this negligence later. Newspaper headlines proclaimed “War” and this time we knew it was real. They announced that the Japanese had landed at Kota Baru on the north eastern coast of Malaya and had also attacked Malaya via Siam. Dad went on ARP duties when there were more nightly air raids, usually of twenty seven bombers in a diamond formation. One night during an air raid we were in our shelter when Dad arrived late, loudly cursing the Japs. He had stubbed his toe on something in his hast to get to us in the garden and it was bleeding profusely. That night we had some soldiers sharing the excitement and as we watched the droning bombers in diamond formation approach, one of the soldiers shouted “Down”. Immediately the screeching sound of the bombs could be heard and then the very loud bang. The ground shook and it was my first taste of real war. I felt really proud the next morning that our shelter protected us all and that I had helped in its construction. A beam supporting our house had moved just a little out of position but all was well. The Japs were now heading down the Malayan Peninsular having secured their bridge-heads. The battle ships Prince of Wales and Repulse sailed to intercept enemy reinforcements and the papers assured us all that soon the enemy would be thrown back into the sea. Unfortunately these two ships were sunk by Japanese torpedo bombers so now we had no Naval or Air protection. The troops moving up to the front line battles complained bitterly about the lack of air support. They were also very unhappy that there were no tanks to stop the Japanese light tanks causing such havoc to the defences on the roads leading south. Japanese Zero fighters appeared daily and I watched many dog-fights between them and the Brewster Buffaloes which made a whistling noise as they turned. Unfortunately the Zeros were much more manoeuvrable so I saw several Buffaloes shot down. They were no match for the superior Zero fighter. The Blenheim bombers were also withdrawn and returned to the UK via India. My eldest sister married an airman from the Squadron, thereby escaping captivity later. My mother also escaped the Japanese occupation by marring one of her lodgers at her boarding house near the Naval Base at Selatar. She was evacuated to Durban, South Africa with her husband and all non essential staff at the Naval Base before Singapore fell to the enemy. Leaflet raids were much fun for me and the Malay children but not for their parents. These were crude bits of paper with drawings depicting Australian soldiers going to war whilst their wives and children pleaded that they shouldn’t. The caption read “We will kill him”. The one that upset the Malays was captioned “Your husbands are coming”. Dad and my Aunt who was his partner complained about the air raids in the city and the absence of purpose built shelters. The authorities in their wisdom had decided that to build shelters would demoralise the civil population so everyone used the stairs or monsoon ditches. “Retreating according to plan” became the mantra as the Japs rapidly advanced south towards Singapore. The fall of the Island of Penang was a real shock especially to the local population because no one was evacuated. Singapore became the haven for all the refugees fleeing the advancing enemy and many rumours of atrocities scared us all. Those lucky to possess a radio were shocked to hear the Japanese broadcasting the next day from Penang. They announced when and where the next air raids would be and kept their word, so morale hit rock bottom. Panic took over so all those who could get away to India and Australia did so and Dad said it was bedlam at the shipping offices. Being Eurasians we didn’t stand a chance but we did envy those that could. Eventually the Japs arrived at Johore State a few miles across the Causeway which was blown up after a lone Scottish piper of the Argyles crossed over to Singapore. We were now under siege. Both armies were weary after the long bloody fight down the Malayan peninsular and began to prepare for the next decisive battle. There was speculation as to where the attack would come from. Most of us thought it would come from the East as there was an Island called Pulau Ubin which could be a convenient jumping off point. I remember picnicking there, swimming in the clear waters and eating mud crabs in happier times. We called it Frog Island because of the shape of the rocks. If predications were right our house at Katong would soon be in the front line. This worried Dad and Auntie a lot. My second teenage sister also a boarder at the Convent of the Holy Infant Jesus joined us because the Nuns like the Christian Brothers were discharging their charges. A good friend of ours called Elizabeth, also a boarder in the convent had no parents in Singapore to return to, so the Nuns pulled strings and she joined the Australian nurses at the Queen Alexander Hospital as an Auxilary.Our fortress guns were mounted for a seaward attack so were useless in our hour of need. So much for the planners. Without air cover the Island was at the mercy of the low flying Zero fighters which machine-gunned the civilian population at will. Dad grumbled about this and the lack of shelters in the city. General Yamashita commander of the 25th Army set up his Headquarters in the Sultan’s Palace overlooking the Straits of Johore and beyond that was “Singapore” his prize. It was the 31st Jan. 1942. The enemy hoisted an observation balloon to direct their artillery bombardment so morale was rock bottom for the thousands of defending troops spread across the northern coast line. Most of the terrain was jungle swamp with the Australians commanded by Major General Gordon Bennett defending the worst bit at the western end. We all held our breath while the Government, the Military and the papers reminded us that this time there would be no retreat so it would be “Fight to the end”. On Feb.7th the Japanese Imperial Guards occupied Pulau Ubin and just as we were all convinced that our predictions were right the enemy’s 5th and 18th Divisions made an amphibious night landing on the Australians and were established on the Island by daylight. It was the beginning of the end. At this time during an air raid in the City, Dad helped an Anglo Indian woman with two young children to find shelter. In the ensuing conversation with her he expressed his fears for us out in the countryside when a miracle happened. Mrs Kitchener said he could have her apartment lock-stock-and-barrel for the duration of the war as she was leaving for India on one of the few ships at the docks. It was unbelievable luck because the apartment at 22B Hill Street was right in the centre of town close to the Convent. Without delay he asked someone with a car to fetch us at Katong. All I remember is; a car pulling up outside our house and a man saying “Hurry up I’m taking you to safety so grab anything you can carry, we must leave right away”. I can’t remember what I took but I saw my sister taking a bible. We drove off in hast to Hill Street our new home. It was palatial compared to anything we had before. Facing the main telegraph office it was a typical three storied concrete building of the period with a dispensary on ground level, then our apartment and another apartment above. A covered walkway with the ubiquitous monsoon drain led shoppers to the other shops. The whole place had been sand-bagged making the stairs up to the apartments very dark. I caught a glimpse of Mrs Kitchener saying her farewell to her beloved apartment and then leave with her young daughter and baby son. We never saw them again because after the war was over we were told that their escaping ship was sunk. With two bedrooms, lounge, kitchen and bathroom it was equipped with everything. What luck! We soon settled in all this luxury but the war going on around us got worse. The enemy made rapid advances on all fronts gradually tightening the noose around the City. Refugees from all the captured villages and towns poured into the City looking for anywhere safe. They brought tales of savagery which scared us a lot. Friends and relatives turned up at our door asking for refuge so we took them in and everyone slept on the floor. A school friend, Tony G. from St. Patrick’s had been interned because he was an Italian and then released. Dad found him at “Change Alley” when it was bombed and set ablaze and brought him home. Mrs Kitchener’s stepson Dennis a teenager also stayed with us. Hundreds of refugees fleeing the enemy left their empty homes in the void between the battle fronts. Martial law was announced so anyone caught looting would be shot but this was no deterrent. We also joined in the looting when there was no more food. Abandoned houses with tinned food like condensed milk and butter were targeted but I was surprised one day to find Dad standing on a toilet seat peering into the cistern. Asked what he was doing he replied “That’s where they hide the money”. Dennis came home with an assortment of weapons from an abandoned police station. Dad wasn’t angry because he had a mad-cap idea of defending our apartment as a last resort so we shared out the guns and ammunition. There were some steel helmets too, so I asked Dennis to paint a skull and cross bones in white on mine. He was good at art. Then we began to run out of water because the enemy cut off the water supply from Johore State. We still had some small reservoirs to rely on but not for long. Besides the continuous bombing and machine-gunning we had to endure night and day, shelling added to our misery. This was due to the fact that Lt. General A. Percival, General Officer Commanding Malaya, had his headquarters’ bunker in the depths of Fort Canning Hill right behind us. Huge fires could be seen at the naval base from the storage fuel tanks sabotaged by the retreating defenders and also from the fuel refinery tanks on Pulau Bukum to the South. Our new neighbour’s husband in the apartment above, worked there. From our front window between air raids I watched the war going on around me with some fear and excitement. Hundreds of troops of all colours marched or were transported to the front lines to relieve the retreating stragglers. The latter looked very tired and confused. They complained bitterly about the lack of leadership and air cover. Many had discarded their weapons and took refuge on our stairs. I enjoyed watching the bren-gun carriers racing towards the enemy. They were no match for the enemy light tanks. Then one day there was a commotion on Hill St. and I was surprised to see many Chinese with arm bands and an assortment of weapons assembling. Our Chinese amah (cook) said they were Malayan Communist and Overseas Chinese party members getting ready to fight the Japs. The seemed a lively enthusiastic lot, and apparently put up a good fight. The British called them “Dalforce” after their British officer. Aunty stopped going to her office but Dad braved the war and helped his boss destroy documents right up to the end. One day he came home very distraught because a man wearing a turban shot at him, the bullet hit a sand bag nearby. He thought it was possibly an army deserter or a Jap infiltrator. All municipal work like rubbish collection etc stopped so huge mounds of rotting rubbish covered in flies lay everywhere with the accompanying stench. Law and order broke down so looting was everywhere. All shops were closed and the taps ran dry except for the fire hydrant at the end of our street outside the main fire station. The problem was dodging the shells raining down on us. We used empty green army biscuit cans for the precious water but half was spilt on the run. The many soldiers living on our stairs provided the army rations we lived on and on occasions these were supplemented by looted food. I established contact with the nuns at the convent and began serving at daily mass in their chapel. It was like old times but not quite, because of the many refugees now pouring in. Anti-aircraft guns ringed the place drawing enemy attention so the nuns were at their wits end. I also served at the alter of the “Cathedral of the Good Sheppard"opposite the convent.

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