General ‘Boy': The Life of Lieutenant General Sir Frederick Browning

by Richard Mead

  Chapter 25

  Singapore (November 1945–July 1946)

  On November 23, HQ SACSEA formally relocated to Singapore, where it took over the Cathay Building, a ten-storey office block built as recently as 1939. Boy’s enormous office, containing a conference table as well as his own large desk at the far end, was close to Mountbatten’s on the top floor and commanded a fine view over the harbour.1 He had located a good-sized bungalow in the grounds of Government House, Mountbatten’s residence, and he, Denning and Harrison moved in there, although Harrison was to leave for the UK early in 1946.

  Mountbatten himself arrived on 1 December, in time to greet Brooke, who was on a world tour. The CIGS had never visited the theatre during the war and had shown little interest in it relative to the Mediterranean and North-West Europe. Now on the spot for the first time, he found his opinion of Mountbatten improving, whilst he also agreed to support him in taking a firm line with the Dutch on the question of their relationship with the Indonesian nationalists. Boy used the opportunity to send Christmas presents back to the family in Brooke’s plane.

  1946 began well for Boy when his knighthood was announced in the New Year’s honours list, bringing a flood of congratulations. Boy had been able to warn Daphne in advance: ‘As ’ee knows me doesn’t want a K and we failed to prevent Supremo for putting a man in for it,’2 but he was nevertheless gratified. Another honour to come his way was the Colonelcy of the Indian Parachute Regiment, emphasizing his stature at the time as the pre-eminent airborne soldier. The regiment had been formed in March 1945 and was composed of four battalions, one Hindu, one Moslem and two Gurkha, and four independent companies. Two of its battalions had seen action at Sangshak, during the Battle of Imphal/Kohima, but the regiment had thereafter had been unemployed, much to Boy’s chagrin, until the successful drop by a composite Gurkha battalion at Elephant Point as part of the operation to retake Rangoon. The distinctions of its British counterpart – the maroon beret, the parachute cap badge and the Pegasus shoulder badge, the last two with the addition of the word INDIA – were all adopted by the new regiment.3

  For the first five months of the year, Mountbatten spent more than half his time travelling, not only in the SEAC area, but to India, Nepal, Australia and New Zealand. Boy, on the other hand, was more firmly rooted to the HQ than he had been in Kandy, indeed his sole overseas visit during this time was to Batavia and Surabaya for a week at the end of February, to see what was happening on the ground and participate in discussions with the Dutch.4 The absence of the Supreme Commander was a mixed blessing, as he told Daphne: ‘Being away so much we lose our grip on him and his short visits back to his own HQ merely stirs up a lot of unnecessary turmoil about things that don’t matter.’5

  For the HQ as a whole, the demands began to diminish as 1946 progressed. Control of French Indo-China passed to the French at the end of January, although the last British battalions did not leave for another two months, whilst first Burma and then Malaya and Singapore moved from military to civil government. Before Malaya and Singapore did so, Boy had one of the very few outright disagreements with Mountbatten of his whole tenure as Chief of Staff. The issue arose when left-wing Chinese trade unionists called a series of strikes in February. Mountbatten allowed protest marches to take place, but agreed initially that up to fifty of the leaders who were Chinese nationals should be deported. Ten were arrested and recommended for deportation, but to the consternation of his staff, his civilian advisers and the officers of Malaya Command, the Supreme Commander changed his mind on the grounds that those detained had been unaware of the possible consequences of their action.

  Dempsey and Boy both disagreed profoundly with the decision and Boy put his views in writing. ‘You have always encouraged me to express my considered opinion on any subject for your own private information. I feel it my duty to say that I fundamentally disagree with the policy outlined in your paragraph 5 (the decision not to expel the Chinese). I am convinced that all steps which are legal, and which can in any way improve conditions in the country, should be taken as soon as possible, and that SACSEA should hand over to the Civil Government the best regulated country which it is possible for the former to achieve.’6 Mountbatten appeared not to hold it against him, replying, ‘I do appreciate your writing so frankly to me and am glad to have a Chief of Staff who gives me his views so frankly and fully even when he knows that I am not likely to agree with him.’7 Much to Boy’s irritation, however, when Mountbatten’s confidential report on him appeared three weeks later, it gave him top marks for everything, but concluded ‘As a staff officer, in spite of no previous experience, he has shown outstanding ability and though his political judgement still requires development [author’s italics] his loyalty in carrying through a policy is unquestionable.’ Boy wrote indignantly to Daphne that political judgement should not have even been touched on, as soldiers were not supposed to have political views, and that, in any event, the Colonial Office had agreed with him!

  As responsibility passed to other nations or to civil authorities, the numbers at HQ SACSEA diminished rapidly. From a peak of 600 officers and 3,000 other ranks during the war, by 1 June 1946 the numbers were down to 20 officers and 60 other ranks. The Americans, with no further interest in the area, had been the first to leave but they were followed by all those British regular servicemen who were subject to Python and the very large numbers of emergency commissioned officers and conscripted other ranks who were due for demobilization. Gordon Lennox and Newberry both returned to the UK, the former to pursue a highly successful career in the army, the latter to re-enter civilian life with a well-earned MBE for which he had been recommended by Boy in recognition of nearly four years of faithful service. Johnson had already gone, to be replaced by Guardsman Poulter, a more than adequate substitute, although apparently not quite as good as his predecessor at polishing leather. Johannides remained to drive Boy’s large Cadillac.

  Boy was working as hard as ever, indeed the prolonged absences of Mountbatten meant that the full burden of decision-making was falling on his shoulders, although he continued to have the support of Jack Denning. His health was not of the best, with more frequent occurrences of ‘me tum’, together with other, mostly minor ailments. In general he felt tired and had lost a lot of weight, whilst his hair was showing signs of turning grey. He was concerned that he was also mentally jaded and unable to come up with any new ideas, although coping satisfactorily with the issues which crossed his desk. At the insistence of Mountbatten, he was having his portrait painted by the official war artist,8 which he thought a good likeness, although it made him look ‘pretty grim’.

  The social life in Singapore played an even more significant part of Boy’s job than it had in Kandy and he was expected to entertain or be entertained on most nights. There were an enormous number of visitors, many of whom were extremely tiresome, although he welcomed friends such as David Burghley and Adrian Carton de Wiart, the latter still the Prime Minister’s Representative to Chiang Kai-shek. Whilst he liked most of those with whom he came in regular contact – he was on good terms with Lord Killearn, who had been brought in as Special Commissioner to handle food distribution and also to deal with many aspects of the negotiations between the Dutch and the Indonesians, and with Malcolm MacDonald, who arrived to be Governor-General of Malaya and Singapore and Commissioner-General for South-East Asia – the constant social round after work left Boy little time for relaxation. His only regular exercise was walking in the Botanical Gardens. In April he managed to take his first leave since a week off in the previous August in the aftermath of his septic throat. This time he went to Fraser’s Hill, a small hill station in Malaya which was at least much cooler than Singapore, but even there he had a bout of his stomach trouble.

  Part of the problem was that he was smoking and drinking too much. He was rarely seen without a cigarette and he put his daily consumption of alcohol as four strong gins between 7pm and dinner, a couple of glasses of white wine with dinne
r and two whiskies and water before bed. He had convinced himself that he sweated it out, so that it was the equivalent of less than half what it would have been in England. However, it seems more likely that it was a major contributory factor to his poor health. In mid-June he reported to Daphne that his left leg hurt so badly after a walk that he had been hardly able to get home. This was possibly a harbinger of the circulation problems which were to blight his last years.

  Although the demands of both work and his social life occupied most of Boy’s time, his attention began to turn to aspects of his return to the UK, which he could be certain would take place within the year. The one topic which occupied his thoughts more than anything else was sailing, indeed this clearly provided great relief from the stresses of his job. Increasingly his letters to Daphne contained instructions regarding their existing boats, Ygdrasil and Restless. ‘Yggy’, for which he had enormous affection and which would continue to serve for ‘routes doings’, had survived the war in relatively good shape, although he was keen to install new engines and there was an extensive correspondence on her repainting. Given his appointment at the Royal Fowey Yacht Club, he insisted that she should be a ‘smart and snappy looking Commodore’s barge’. Restless, on the other hand, had deteriorated badly and there was some doubt about whether or not she could be rescued, given the lack of materials, particularly wood.

  There was one new addition to the fleet, its purchase also inspired by Boy’s position as Commodore of the RFYC, which he felt required him to have a boat in which to compete in regattas. In the late 1920s a local Fowey boatbuilder had designed an 18-foot all-wood, open deck boat with a lead keel, which had performed exceptionally well. A number of leading members of the RFYC ordered identical boats and the new class was named after the fictional town of Troy, a thinly-disguised Fowey, in the novels of Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch,9 then the Commodore of the club. Most of the boats were named after precious stones, but the one which now came up for sale and was duly purchased was Shimmer. It was raced by Dick Bunt, a retired seaman who had become friendly with the family and acted as their unofficial boatman, and then by Tessa, the only one of the Browning children who inherited any interest in sailing.

  The majority of Boy’s attention, however, was devoted to something on a much larger scale. Such leisure time as he had enjoyed during the war had been taken up with designing his proposed motor fishing vessel (MFV), the Fanny Rosa. He believed that such a craft would allow him and Daphne much more room and greater freedom to cruise than they had enjoyed with either ‘Yggy’ or Restless. He also felt strongly that they deserved it ‘after all these weary years’. Boy’s ambition to build it in the UK had been thwarted by the lack of building materials and he determined to see if he could do better in the Far East. To hedge his bets, however, Boy had been in touch with others, notably the naval architect Jack Laurent Giles, to whom he had submitted an outline design for a sailing cruiser to be called La Mouette, after the hero’s ship in Frenchman’s Creek, and the celebrated American boatbuilder Frank ‘Huck’ Huckins, whom he had met during his trip to the United States, and to whom he wrote about the possible purchase of one of his Fairform Flyer motor yachts. Pending the possible building of La Mouette, he even asked Daphne to consider buying Flica II, a famous 12-metre boat designed by Laurent Giles which had come up for sale, but she was non-committal.

  Soon after arriving in Singapore he approached the naval authorities to see if it might be possible to build Fanny Rosa to his own design in the dockyard. ‘Terrific doings!’ he wrote to Daphne at the end of January. ‘The Port Commissioner who runs the whole of Singapore harbour has offered to build in seasoned teak the hull, decks, bulkhead – in fact everything except the fittings and engines … at cost price!!’10 He thought that this would be half the price of an equivalent boat in the UK. Discussions took place with a local naval architect, decisions were made on the building materials and then, six weeks later … ‘Terrible disappointment – the Port Commissioner has worked it all out and wants £8,000 just for the hull. I’ve told him to put it where the monkey puts the nuts – wherever that may be.’11 The order cancelled, he started to look for a Chinese junk builder.

  Shortly afterwards there was a promising new development. The Royal Navy had itself employed a large number of MFVs for all sorts of miscellaneous work and a number of these had found their way to Singapore, where they were now declared surplus to requirements. They were of much the same dimensions as the planned Fanny Rosa, 61-foot long, with similar accommodation space and engine position. Within days Boy had taken one to sea and, apart from the vibration of the engines, thought it would be highly suitable for conversion. He managed to have it allocated to him for his personal use, so that he could take it out at least once a week to get the feel of it, and arranged to have it surveyed in a dry dock by Thornycrofts, which had recently re-established its yard in Singapore. He also looked at an alternative MFV, built in South Africa, which lacked engines but seemed to be a better proposition.

  One problem, as always with Boy, was money. Although he had been relatively well paid as Chief of Staff and had managed to save part of his salary, he did not have nearly enough both to pay for the boat and to undertake a complete refit. He began to work on Daphne as soon as there was some prospect of moving forward with the project and expressed the hope that she might come up with ‘a little pressie’. Daphne, never confident about money herself, was actually very comfortably off, especially after the film rights to The King’s General were acquired by Alexander Korda for the then enormous sum of £65,000. She baulked at some of his propositions, such as buying the Fairform Flyer, but eventually agreed to come up with what was needed for Fanny Rosa, despite somewhat resenting what she saw as a raid on her own savings. With her support assured, Boy acquired MFV 224, the vessel with no engines, for the sum of £1,050 which he paid himself. He arranged with Thornycrofts not only for the company to carry out some basic work in Singapore, but for the boat to be delivered to its yard in Southampton for more extensive fitting-out as soon as it arrived in the UK. Boy also persuaded the Royal Navy to carry the vessel in the next available homeward bound landing craft.

  By early April the only area for which SEAC retained political as well as military responsibility was the NEI, where violence continued between the Indonesian nationalists and what they saw as the occupying force of British, although Dutch troops were at last arriving in the country. The low point had been reached at the end of October 1945 with the murder of Brigadier Mallaby in Surabaya, but there had been little improvement in the situation before the end of that year and Christison had been forced to request reinforcements in the shape of 5 Indian Division. The Dutch Lieutenant Governor-General and chief negotiator, Dr van Mook, having initially shown considerable reluctance, was leant on by Mountbatten to begin substantive negotiations with Soekarno and the nationalists, but on agreeing to do so was disowned by his government.

  The Dutch stance was so obdurate that Mountbatten had delivered an ultimatum. Either they would negotiate with the Indonesians, in which case the British would continue to maintain order in all the key centres, or, if they continued to reject negotiations, the British would confine themselves to disarming and repatriating the Japanese. Not entirely surprisingly the Dutch agreed to negotiate and at the end of January Sir Archibald Clark Kerr was sent by the British Government to act as an intermediary.12 This had an immediate beneficial impact, as did Soekarno’s agreement to step back in favour of his more tractable colleague, Dr Sjahrir. Although in many ways the British remained unpopular with both sides and sporadic violence against them continued, a dialogue was begun and the piecemeal arrival of Dutch troops meant that the British formations could gradually begin to withdraw, although not without the occasional crisis intervening.

  By the end of April the rationale for the continued existence of a combined HQ, with its origins in the Grand Alliance of the Second World War, was beginning to be questioned in London, although Mountbatten campaigned v
igorously for its retention. From a personal perspective, however, the Supreme Commander felt that he had completed his task and was keen to resume his career in the Royal Navy. Supported by his three C-in-Cs, Boy and Denning, he made strong representations to this effect to the Chiefs of Staff, who agreed that he should leave the theatre at the end of May. The question of his successor was not resolved, but it was decided that Stopford, who had succeeded Dempsey as C-in-C ALFSEA, would serve simultaneously as Acting Supreme Commander, but that the practical aspects of the job would be assumed by Boy.

  Having dined quietly with just Boy and Denning on 27 May, Mountbatten wrote to the former on the day of his departure from Singapore three days later to say that he was sad to be leaving ‘the happiest and most efficient team I have ever worked with.’ The letter continued: ‘This, as I am certain you must know, is almost entirely due to yourself. Ever since you arrived you have halved my work and helped me stay on my right level, but what I find most remarkable is that on the very rare occasions when I have had to overrule you, you have not only accepted it loyally (as one would expect), but I know have gone out of your way to support my decision at every level, both officially and unofficially.’13 He went on to say that Boy would really be SACSEA himself from then on. The letter accompanied the gift of a cigarette box.

  Boy replied in like terms on 1 June, writing: ‘Its been a great adventure and I’ve loved working with you – its been so good for me to work with someone who has more energy and drive than I have.’14 He went on to say that Mountbatten’s opinion of him was exaggerated, for instance that he was not in the same class as Dempsey, or for that matter as McCreery, Horrocks, Leese – ‘if he regains his balance!’ –O’Connor, Swayne or de Guingand. He ended with a PS: ‘One sting in the tail. Please remember to be considerate to your staff – not people like Jack and me ’cos that you always were to us – but to the “stooges”. One small fault in a big man!’