The Battle for Hong Kong 1941-1945
Page 26
Corporal H F Linge of the Royal Army Ordnance Corps, who had ended up as a POW in Japan, was astonished by the American hospitality in Manila: “We were issued with 40 cigarettes, five cigars and two cans of beer a day. When an American Sergeant discovered we were queuing up for a second free chocolate bar, he issued each man a whole box of them. We eventually embarked on HMS Implacable where everything was done to help us.”4
For Staff Sergeant J Winspear and other ex-POWs, the highlight was witnessing the Japanese surrender on USS Missouri. They were then assembled on the flight deck of the carrier which steamed slowly round the great battleships, cruisers and destroyers of the Pacific Fleet, every space being manned by sailors who cheered the POWs enthusiastically.
Major A R Colquhoun, a Gunner, also remembers Esquimault well. “The scenery was lovely; we were accommodated in what had been the local golf club over which a Union Jack flew; there was a waiter in a white jacket with a tray under his arm. We were penniless and sat in the sunshine while nice Canadian ladies plied us with tea and amiable conversation, and sewed on our campaign medals. It had never occurred to me that I was entitled to any medal, let alone three.”5
While I had been dispatched to Woking, others went to Waterloo Station. A uniformed chauffeur employed by the Duke of Grafton’s son drove Winspear through devastated, bombed-out East London where disillusionment set in: “We had been given a ration card which entitled us to double rations for six weeks, and we had to apply for them on the same form as a pregnant woman. One of the form’s questions was: ‘How long were you confined?’ I put down 1,324 days. I got the double ration, but a sour note crept in when the manager of the local Co-op would not accept my coupons.”
Lieutenant Commander Young, who had been imprisoned in shocking conditions with Major Boxer in Canton, also arrived at Waterloo Station and “saw a taxi draw up which I tried to enter, but a gruff policeman said ‘can’t you see there’s a queue? These people have been waiting an hour or more. Go to the bottom end.’ Quite exhausted, I sat on my suitcase and replied: ‘I have been waiting five years.’ The couple who had just got into the taxi must have realised who the thin, forlorn creature was, and they invited me in, and fed me on the way with biscuits and tea from a thermos. I was a little surprised to find out how bitter the feeling was against the Japanese; to my mind everything that had happened was a clash of Western and Eastern civilisation and culture.”
Major Colquhoun was sent to a Rehabilitation Centre which was in a stately home in Kent. “After changing for dinner, we saw a roaring fire, waiters with silver trays and a pompous full colonel in scarlet mess-kit, medals and spurs. The whole idea was to re-create the atmosphere of a pre-war Regimental Guest Night. After dinner and the Loyal Toast, the Colonel announced that he was in a position to guarantee us an appropriate posting of our choice and we should give our name to a waiter if we had any psychological problems.
“All this high-grade flannel induced me to see the Colonel’s highly qualified psychoanalyst. I was ushered into a cosy room where I expected to be questioned on a couch and encouraged to think about sex. Instead, over a decanter of Cockburn 1898 port and a brace of Churchillian cigars, an elderly man listened to my story and said, ‘My advice to you, old boy, is that you should go to Ireland for a holiday; their steaks are excellent and their Guinness is good, too. You do the paying, but I could probably wangle you a couple of weeks’ leave.’ So much for the psychoanalysis. Next day I told the qualified career planner that I would like to be posted to a Field Artillery unit in the south of England. ‘Excellent, old boy,’ he replied. ‘Would Southampton suit you? Good! Consider it done.’ We shook hands warmly. A week later a War Office letter arrived, posting me to an anti-aircraft battery in the far north of England.”
Private Waller, the former batman to Sir Mark Young, had also been on the Ile de France with me. He reached an Infantry Depot at Amersham where he was told he must remain until he had been “processed”. “I had already been processed at Okinawa, Manila and Halifax and I had had enough. And so I went absent without leave,” he remembers. Eventually he returned to the Depot where “Everyone thought us prisoners of the Japs were all a bit bonkers and so we were given plenty of understanding. I was quickly discharged; a Major drove me to the station.”
Sir Mark Young and Major General Maltby had been flown back to England much earlier, on 5th September. Sir Mark had immediately visited Waller’s son at school and given him a mouth organ. During the war, Mrs Waller, who never knew for certain that her husband was still alive, received food parcels from Lady Young. Sir Mark never fully recovered his health, as was the case with some regular soldiers who, to their bitter disappointment, were too ill to continue with their Service careers. Then there were the oldest ex-POWs who were told that, after four years and nine months as a POW, there was no future employment for them in the Services. To his great dismay, Major General Maltby fell into this category.
* * * * *
Much is known about the British and Canadians, but virtually nothing has appeared in print about the repatriation of the loyal Rajputs and Punjabis who fought in Hong Kong with us.
The Indian survivors from the POW camp sailed in SS Takliwa from Kowloon after the British and Canadian POWs had departed. They were commanded by Major Kampla Prasad and were accompanied by Captain B A Hurd, the Adjutant, and Captain J L Flynn, the ship’s Quartermaster. Both were British officers serving in the Indian Army. The other British officers had been sent to Britain independently, not that many of them had survived the war.
After calling at Singapore for supplies, “SS Takliwa took a short cut through the Andaman and Nicobar Islands. She tore her bottom out on a reef at about 11.00 p.m. and caught fire,” recalls Flynn. “Some lifeboats were panic-launched and sank; others caught fire. It was a really dangerous situation. The Indians were badly frightened. Fortunately HMS Sainfoin arrived and rescued everyone. But we lost all our possessions. The Royal Navy were marvellous, found space for us, giving us their clothing and cigarettes. They took us through a bad hurricane to Madras and cleared up after the Indians were very sick. On arrival there, we were given an advance of pay and Red Cross amenities. A ‘Released Prisoner of War and Internees Unit’ warned us for psychological testing and for retraining for the post-POW changed world.” It would appear that they had a better reception than the POWs reaching England!
“I would estimate,” continues Flynn, “that of the 2/14 Punjabis only about six or seven Indians were recommended for dishonourable discipline for cooperating with the Japanese, while maybe 20 helped them under duress. In any event, all courts martial were later quashed for political reasons.”
Most of the Japanese POWs after the war were moved to Shamshuipo Barracks, which we had just vacated. It is estimated that there were between 7,000 and 10,000 of them. Like some of us in 1942, they were put to work improving Kai Tak airfield, under robust Commando guards. They also swept the streets and removed rubble, “a very suitable job for the Japanese who were responsible in the main for the damage done.” After some months they were shipped home, along with their Korean and Taiwanese auxiliaries. The hard core of suspected perpetrators of war crimes had already been rounded up, as will be discussed in the penultimate chapter.
Thus it was that the former internees and the British, Canadian, Indian and Japanese ex-POWs returned home, some to uncertain futures.
We had bid good-bye in Hong Kong to the brave Chinese civilians, some ex-internees and the gallant men of the Hong Kong Volunteer Defence Corps who had truly been fighting as Volunteers for their homes in the Crown Colony in 1941. It is to those we left there that our gratitude should be expressed. They made the Colony such a prosperous, cheerful, vibrant and safe place to live for so many post-war years and thereafter, when wars were raging in turn in China, Korea, Malaya, Indonesia and Vietnam. By comparison, Hong Kong became a haven of peace and a “vision of delight” once more, as those who lived in the Colony will agree.
Notes
2. Ibid. p. 148
3. Vincent, C, No Reason Why, Ontario: Canada’s Wings, 1981, p. 238.
4. Letter Linge to OL.
5. Interview Colquoun with OL.
CHAPTER 23
New Worlds to Find:
An Architect At Last
“He looked a skeleton,” my father wrote about me when I arrived home at Chobham in early November 1945. “Diphtheria, beriberi and captivity had taken a heavy toll, but after his discharge from the Army we took him to our local GP and Sir Geoffrey Marshall, the chest specialist.”
My sister Rosina had, when she left school in 1940, joined the American Ambulance service rather than accept the place already offered to her at St Hilda’s College, Oxford. She took up her law studies there after the war. My parents were proud of her when they saw her drive off with her large Ford ambulance, in company with some dozen others, from Sussex Square in London en route to Reading. She was based there for some 18 months, evacuating the wounded after bombing raids in London, Southampton and other cities. From 1943 to 1945 she was based in London during the V1 and V2 attacks.
My wife Jill remembers one incident when she dived under her drawing board as the sirens sounded for a likely V2 rocket attack. The Architectural Association School had returned to London after being evacuated to Barnet and Jill joined Unit One, in the attic of a house in Bedford Square. The drawing boards lay on old wooden trestle tables. The students automatically dived for cover when the sirens went off, for most had had experience of ‘doodlebugs’ (V1s). These were different from V2s as they were fuel driven and when their engines ‘cut out’ everyone knew it would be seconds before they reached the ground with the consequential explosion. The V2s arrived silently and exploded. Luckily for Jill, on this occasion the explosion was heard some way off and the students resumed their ‘yellow ochre washes’.
After gradually getting fit, I began again my diploma course at the Architectural Association and there met Jill Rowe, whom I married in June 1950. I owe so much to her.
In the following year we opened our first office in George Street in London’s Marylebone district. It was one half of one room, heated by an oil stove; tea was made with an electric kettle on the floor. The telephone was shared. There was a shortage of almost everything and Building Licensing was required for any development over £500. No restaurant could charge more than five shillings for dinner (including the Savoy).
Winning a major competition was one of the best ways of founding a practice. In 1952 there were two major Royal Institute of British Architects’ open competitions – one for the rebuilding of Coventry Cathedral and the other for the design of the new State Hospital, Doha. We won the latter.
My interest in health-care buildings dates back to 1935 when I went on a study tour of Scandinavian hospitals with my father, who had just been appointed as surveyor for the rebuilding of Westminster Hospital. In entering the Doha competition I had two advantages. First, I had developed a feel for climate, having experienced those five years in Hong Kong. Secondly, I had already visited the Arabian Gulf in 1951 as the architect for the Building Research Laboratories in Kuwait. I felt that the planning and elevation detailing of the State Hospital design would largely be determined by the inter-related requirements of solar control and natural ventilation. We were very fortunate to be awarded first prize and appointed architects, out of 74 entries from all over the world.
At the invitation of the State Engineer, who had flown to London for the adjudication, I flew out to Doha four days later. His Highness Sheikh Ali KBE, the Ruler of Qatar, was curious to know why I wanted more time to complete the working drawings for his new hospital. His new palace, he told me, had been marked out on the sand and work had started as soon as he had given his authority. I produced an acceptable answer whereby a separate foundation contract (the hospital being designed on a standard grid) would enable work to start on site immediately, although full working drawings took another nine months to complete. The hospital was opened in 1957 by Sheikh Ali who was presented by me with a gold key, and a national holiday was announced.
In the 1980s the office in Doha was commissioned to design and construct the new Women’s Hospital and the new National Tennis and Squash complex which placed Doha on the world circuit. In 1997 the firm undertook the 3,000-seat Conference Centre on the direct instruction of the Emir, to be built in time for the MENA (Middle East and North Africa) Summit attended by the US Secretary of State, Madeleine Albright. This Conference Centre was designed and completed in eight and a half months – a record time.
On completion of the Doha State Hospital, I was invited to visit Dubai by the Ruler, HH Sheikh Rashid bin Saeed Al-Maktoum. He wanted me to prepare a town plan for Dubai. This was initiated in 1960 and revised in 1977.
My first building commission in Dubai was for the Al-Maktoum Hospital. We extended the previous single shed-like structure from 18 beds to 125. Some funds were contributed by the British Government. After undertaking a number of small projects in Dubai, I happened to be in the Majlis (the Ruler’s court) in August 1966 when an oil company representative rushed in to break the news that oil had been found. He had with him a jam jar full of oil, which he presented to Sheikh Rashid. The Ruler got up and embraced everyone present. It was a marvellous experience to be there at that very moment.
Sheikh Rashid then declared to me that we could now go ahead with the development plan and hospital programme which he had long waited to put in hand. The Rashid Hospital was the first, followed by other hospitals, educational and commercial buildings. The Rashid Hospital was commenced on a loan so I had to detail every cost, right down to the cutlery and linen. When the job was finished I presented Sheikh Rashid with the final account and told him we had saved £18. He said to me in a loud voice, “Keep it!” and the whole Majlis roared with laughter.
Following a visit by HM The Queen to Dubai in 1972, HH Sheikh Rashid was inspired to give the order for a World Trade and Exhibition Centre to be constructed, and he sought my advice. At that time the New York Trade Center was only half built, and the idea of such a building was little understood outside America. I explained to Sheikh Rashid that I needed four months to research into current advances and design solutions by visiting Trade Centres then under construction around the world. Sheikh Rashid said, “Come back and see me when you are ready.” This I did. When I finally presented my scheme, Sheikh Rashid remarked, “That is not tall enough! The tower should be higher.” Many people in the Majlis thought that the proposed scheme was too ambitious; few buildings in Dubai were more than three storeys high at that time. However, the tower was raised to its present height and constructed in reinforced concrete (not steel as were the Trade Center towers in New York).
In 1979 the Trade Centre was opened by HM The Queen at HH Sheikh Rashid’s invitation. It was the tallest building in the Arab world from Morocco to Bombay for 20 years.
In 1984 we were successful in the design competition for HH the Ruler of Dubai’s new Diwan on a prominent site on the Creek. A principal government building, this was one of the first modern buildings in the region to respect the historical tradition of the windtower/courtyard structures.
* * * * *
Our links with the Middle East grew over time. It was from Kuwait in 1955 that I became one of the first Britons to return to the great oil refinery at Abadan after its takeover by Iran three years earlier. Secretly through the reeds in a small boat, I crossed the Shatt al Arab river, an area of conflict between the British and Iraqis in the Second Gulf War. In 1957 we opened an office in Tehran which flourished until the 1977 revolution.
Once established in the Gulf I then became involved in neighbouring Oman. In 1966 I was invited to meet His Majesty Sultan Said bin Taimur at his palace in Salalah, Oman. From this initial meeting a development programme for the country emerged. Th
e first girls’ school and the foundation of a hospital was put in hand. The Ottoman Bank, located just outside the town walls of Muscat, was the first commercial building in reinforced concrete to be constructed in Oman apart from oil company buildings. My partner at this time prepared designs for the first Christian church in Oman.
I visited the Sultan regularly, both of us squatting on the floor with plans or maps spread out on the carpet in front of us. Outside the room was an armed guard. On one occasion, when the time came for us to rise, the Sultan stumbled and I instinctively put my arms around him to stop him from falling. Thinking the Sultan was being attacked, the guard rushed in with his rifle. Fortunately for me the Sultan shouted to him in Arabic to hold his fire. He then turned to me and said, “I am so sorry. My foot went to sleep.”
After this I suggested it might be more convenient if we worked together at a table, and arranged for one to be sent out from London in time for our next meeting.
A regional office was established which undertook many projects over 24 years. Under His Majesty Sultan Qaboos bin Said, the pace of development in Oman increased and we were appointed to prepare a development plan for Muscat and Mutrah, and designs ranging from small tribal centres to large defence bases and commercial projects.
Expanding eastwards from Arabia, I was approached to be the architectural consultant for the 1,200-bed Kuala Lumpur General Hospital.
In 1976 we were invited to prepare a development scheme for the Royal Brunei Polo Club, which became a substantial project. This involved clearing jungle and preparing the polo fields. Buildings included grandstands, air conditioned stables and accommodation for staff and visiting teams.
While our architectural practice expanded its regional overseas offices, the UK-based firm secured a number of important projects in Britain and Europe. There followed exciting years when new projects included the complete refurbishment of the Dorchester Hotel and major work on Strangeways Prison after the riots.