20 Dec 1941, Harry Ching's wartime diary

A very foggy morning, brightened by the appearance of a hawker selling milk. We did not ask its source. Distantly, the battle in the hills went on all day, but it is a strangely quiet night.

It is now difficult to get food. A hawker sold bread at $1.50 a pound and a little pork could be got at $5 per pound limited to a quarter pound to each customer. The newspapers noted that there is no fresh fish in the central market, only dried fish. Firewood is also hard to get, and the Food Control is distributing cooked rice. 

A shop up town which had been hit by a bomb was looted. The police fired on the looters and killed several of them. Government has warned that in future the police will shoot to kill on sight. A police reservist called, presented a requisition and took our motor-car, in which a load of street guards immediately began a local patrol around the district.

Our neighbours all had the same thought in mind and asked the same question: what will happen when the final moment comes? The looting at Kowloon is taken as a warning; it would also be our lot on the Island. A neighbour and I went into frequent council of war. We would bar doors and windows. What else? He revealed himself a man of property; he has two new pistols and has given me one, with two tins of ammunition, all disguised as a tin of biscuits.