CHAPTER ONE - Before the Battle
 

—Plato

Our little war began shortly after the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbour. About fifty planes struck vital targets and took everyone by surprise, destroying the four or five old aircraft at Kai Tek Airport as well. Not that they would have been much use. Our barracks at Shamshuipo were bombed but most of the battalion were already in training positions on the hills of the Island and there were only one or two casualties. From then on we were constantly bombarded, at first from the air and later by mortar and heavy artillery as well.
The distressing news was that the Japanese had advanced quickly through the New Territories at night and had broken through the area held by The Royal Scots. By avoiding the roads and skillfully traversing the rough countryside at night, the enemy threw the planned defense of the mainland into confusion. Within two days it became obvious that there would be no defense of that area.
British and Indian troops were ferried across to the Island. Seeing these haggard, tired comrades passing through our lines was not exactly encouraging, but surprisingly, morale remained high.
It was evident that the key to any defense of Hong Kong had to be the prevention of any permanent beachhead on the island. Once any landing was secured the Japanese could draw on literally unlimited reserves of men, artillery and other heavy equipment.
It was also obvious that the logical place for them to cross from the mainland was the Northeast tip of the Island, Lye Mun Gap, where the passage was only about 500 metres wide and the terrain was ideal. Yet apparently to the bitter end General Maltby, the Military Commander, expected an assault from the sea. Consequently, the part of the island least exposed to the mainland was the most heavily fortified and mined.
Mount Parker, which had a commanding view of the entire potential landing area, was initially sparsely manned, not even having an adequate observation post. It would have been an ideal place for prepared positions that could easily have controlled the area. Instead the ill-constructed pillboxes on the waterfront were the first line of defense. Such incompetent planning by the High Command is impossible to understand. By occupying the heights, the potential landing areas could have been cleared with heavy machine gun and light artillery fire. Then a mobile force kept in reserve could have easily cleared out any remaining invaders.
The Royal Rifles and the British Middlesex Battalion with some Rajput Indian troops and some Hong Kong Volunteer Corps were charged with the defense of the eastern part of the island. Many of the Middlesex were back in Stanley, so were not involved in the initial assault at Lye Mun. My comments on the battle will be limited to the eastern sector and are based only on personal participation. There is so much confusion in battle that any second hand descriptions are at best open to question.
It was a tragedy that the Canadian Brigadier and most of his staff were killed so early in the battle, and unfortunate that the two Canadian battalions were separated under different commands. The British Brigadier under whom the Royal Rifles were placed had some uncomplimentary remarks about the Canadians. Our opinion of him is perhaps best left unmentioned. Unfortunately much of the published material on this sector has been based on a diary he kept in the following years in captivity and could understandably be considered self-serving.
Once the mainland had been completely evacuated, the artillery bombardment intensified, as did the bombing and strafing from the air. It was later revealed that the enemy was able to place the heavy artillery in position so quickly, because before the war, Japanese business men had prepared concrete placements in their warehouses in Kowloon.
The pillboxes along the shore crumbled quickly under the heavy fire. Their poor construction was evident as the gaping holes showed little or no reinforcing iron. Graft and greed seldom save lives in such situations. Nor did their uselessly exposed positions or inept attempts at camouflage help.
There were repeated “stand-tos” and these with the ever increasing bombardments made sleeping and even eating difficult. The confusion was compounded by the many Chinese refugees milling about the area. Some of these were fifth-columnists according to later reports, although I had no personal experience with this.
On December 15th an initial foray was made by the Japanese across Lye Mun Passage, but this was repulsed with little difficulty. Following this the aerial and artillery bombardment was further intensified so that any movement in the Lye Mun area was very difficult. The sky was black with the smoke from burning oil tanks and a paint factory near the shore. On the 18th the Japanese successfully landed eight battalions under these ideal conditions.
The Indian battalion manning the shore defenses put up a gallant resistance but were no match for the numbers and incredible organization of the Japanese, who immediately headed for the hills.
Our first direct contact with the enemy was when they scrambled up the hill at Lye Mun and occupied the barracks. The British troops who had been defending the fort had been surprised and had left without being able to offer any resistance. A platoon of “C” Company launched an attack and met heavy firepower from automatic weapons.
As the day progressed, many Indian troops came running through the lines having been overwhelmed by the Japanese. They were quite demoralized and understandably only concerned with getting as far away as possible from the action.
Major Bishop, in command of “C” company, was a decorated veteran of the First World War. He was a cool cat as we would say nowadays, not easily ruffled and never showing any fear. He phoned the Brigadier, who was safely ensconced in Stanley Fort, requesting some artillery support and some back up for a counter-attack. The Brigadier admonished him for being hysterical and sent an aide around to see if the Japanese were really there. Alas it was not only too true but too late, as the Japanese were now on a well established beachhead.
At this time I was back at Tai Tam Gap, perhaps a mile or so down the road, so I was not present with “C” Company when they held up the advancing Japanese battalion, inflicting severe casualties. They managed to make an orderly withdrawal under orders from the Brigadier, bringing their wounded with them to Tai Tam Gap.
Too late, the Brigadier now ordered two platoons to the summit of Mount Parker. The Japanese had already complete control of this area and even had some light artillery on the summit itself. As I remember, we seemed to spend the day climbing hills, not knowing where we were, receiving conflicting orders and always being shot at by someone, sometimes by automatic weapons, more commonly by the odd sniper fire and occasionally light mortars.
Finally our company was ordered back to Palm Villa, a beautiful house about half way from Tai Tam to Stanley. Our platoon commander, J.E.D. Smith, somehow or other managed to scrounge an abandoned car and about a dozen of us hung on, two on the hood and one on the roof, the rest inside and on the running boards.... so we arrived in style to the envious looks of the weary chaps who had struggled all the way by foot.
While two Japanese regiments had been pushing us back, two others had made rapid advances against West Brigade. The Canadian Brigadier, Lawson, and his staff had been killed trying to fight their way out of the Brigade Headquarters. Our British Brigadier had made a fatal error in not ordering an immediate counter-attack.
We were now separated from West Brigade and had fallen back to the hills, precisely the type of terrain where the Japanese had the most expertise and the better weapons. To compound problems the Royal Artillery had lost all but three of their field pieces, not to enemy action but through mismanagement and poor communication with Brigade Head Quarters. The rest were lost when the British officer in charge of the unit was killed. The Indian officer who took over, misinterpreted the orders to fall back and left the howitzers after spiking them. Thus we were left with no artillery support for the rest of the battle.
We were to spend the days fighting our way up hills to dislodge the enemy, and then grope our way down in the darkness because they had circled around us. The support organization was poor to non-existent. No hot meals reached most of us doing the fighting, although there was every facility back in Stanley Fort where the Brigade Staff was. We heard that British troops back there were playing soccer, but perhaps that was just a malicious rumour.
When I read some of our generals’ military memoirs, I marvel at how smoothly everything went, each documenting for posterity his own faultless management and military wisdom. Was it really that way? Our brief experience was a chorus of confusion, contradictory orders and chaotic lack of organization. I have a gut feeling we were not unique.
Such dilatory attitudes were repeated ad infinitum to the disgust of us all. I never once saw any staff officer where the action was. Help was always too little and too late. Counter-attacks or retreats were ordered without any real knowledge of the terrain, the location and the strength of the enemy, or even the availability and the condition of our own troops.
I wonder if the British High Command ever left their deep underground shelter as they did not appear to know what was really going on. To the very end they had no idea of how many Japanese had landed.
Arguably, it was a lost cause from the beginning, but fewer lives would have been lost at greater cost and time to the invader had there been even mediocre leadership and organization. The initial landings would certainly have been repulsed by a battalion strength counter-attack on the beach head.
Once this had been done, the Japanese who had made it into the hills could have been dealt with. Instead, in the crucial initial hours, Major Bishop was refused reinforcements and artillery support by superiors who assumed he was overstating the situation.
The Japanese later admitted that they lost 65% of their men in this exercise against “C” Company. So the assumption that the outcome could have been far different with more support available is not unreasonable.
This is where our transport, especially Bren Gun carriers, which never got there because of bureaucratic bungling, could have played a key role.
Our Commander-in-Chief was convinced that the main attack would come from the sea, so the bulk of other troops stayed back in the south end of the island throughout most of the battle. We had no Alexander in command.
The story in Malaya and Singapore is an even worse litany of similar disasters and that of the Americans in the Philippines scarcely any better.