16 Jun 1943, John Charter's wartime journal

In fact we find that we hardly have to cut down at all on our previous cooking times – we economise in such ways as queuing at the water boiler to get hot water for coffee instead of boiling it from cold as we used to (we still have coffee about 3 times per week, using the old grounds plus one new teaspoon each time – just enough to make us aware that it is coffee!) and I surreptitiously collect my shaving water every other day from the water boiler instead of boiling it on the hot plate. It makes me wonder how much some people must have used their hot plate since even with this allowance we are effecting a substantial reduction.

In addition to this restriction of power, all hot plates must be off by 8.00 p.m. If a hot plate is left on (it can easily be detected from the meter)  the fuse for the whole flat is pulled – a most effective deterrent as the culprit then has to face the wrath and indignation of his own near neighbours! Also, every fourth day we do without hot plates altogether, the current being switched on at 8.00 p.m. for lighting purposes. Nowadays, of course, we have less to cook than we used to. Congee is cooked in the kitchen and served in the mornings, so those who have a little porridge left are saving it. We have no cocoa left to boil at nights, no oranges with which to make marmalade etc., no flour for cakes. We have a little flour still which we mix with the rice flour for binding when we make scones, but it will not last much longer.

I have just heard a strong rumour which is alleged to have emanated from ‘the hill’ unofficially, that the women are to have all their heavy luggage ready by the 25th of this month, prior to embarking on the 28th; and that all the men excepting the Police, Prison Warders and Merchant Seamen will be following in a few weeks time. Let’s hope it is true! Another rumour states that Gimson will issue a notice, regarding repatriation, either this evening or tomorrow. These stories remind me of the comic song which starts: ‘I heard, yes I heard, though it wasn’t told to me, still I heard’.

The long drought was broken at the end of May and since then we have had some heavy rain; so our fears of a water shortage are now allayed. Major Manners is keeping records of the rainfall and states that 8 ½” fell in the first 4 months and that 16” fell in May. Most of these 16” fell in the last week when we had some good old downpours.

We have swum quite a lot recently. We are attending Vera Murrell’s crawl classes and hope to be able to produce a reasonable crawl stroke by the time we leave this camp. (If the repatriation rumours prove true, I fancy we will not achieve this objective). Vera trained for 8 years and swam for Britain in two Olympiads. I believe her record is good and I must find out her maiden name – I shall probably recognise it when I hear it. It is pleasant to be taught by an Olympic champion; it gives us a feeling of complete confidence in her style and technique though it makes me feel a complete crab when she gets down to it and demonstrates. At present we are doing the leg stroke with a dog paddle for the arms. When I am completely master of the crawl stroke, if I can move as fast as Vera does when she demonstrates the dog paddle, I shall be more than satisfied. Maudie and Vera live together in block 10, so it was comparatively easy to ask her to teach us. Y, I regret to say, seems far more adept at the business than I.

Since being interned I have broken the stopping out of two of my teeth. In both cases this happened by biting small stones or bits of gravel in the rice – it is impossible to wash out all the grit. We are constantly crunching pieces of grit and numerous people have broken stoppings, and the casualties amongst synthetic teeth are legion.

Sammy Shields is the camp dentist and he has been kept very busy. He is actually a Government dental mechanic and his actual experience in dentistry before he came to camp was very limited. But this camp has certainly given him his opportunity and he has made the most of it. One of my teeth became unstopped in the Tai Koon Hotel but I put off going to Sammy because I doubted his ability. But towards the end of April, when the second stopping came out, I judged it wisest to go and made an appointment for 7th May. On that day he stopped one tooth and made the next appointment – 28th May! He said he had booked over 300 appointments. On May 28th he stopped the second tooth and wanted me to come once more on June 4th to have them polished, but by then he had fallen sick himself, poor chap, with a duodenal ulcer and I am still waiting to have my teeth polished. I must say I was agreeably surprised with his work for he seems to have done these very well indeed and general report has it that he is first rate at extractions; so he should have little difficulty in passing any practical exam if, after the war, he wishes to become fully qualified.

While I was with him one day, a man came in to ask him if he could mend his plate. Shields said he couldn’t do anything at the moment as he had no plaster of paris. He said Newbigging was unable to get any at all from the Japanese (scandalous) and that the funds of the IRC were exhausted and they could supply none. He said there were 140 sets of false teeth waiting to be mended.

“But I can’t eat with them as they are,” said the voice.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to manage without them then,” said Sammy.

Came the forlorn question,“You mean just live on slops?”

“For the time being, I’m afraid,” said Sammy. Well there is one comfort in this camp: if you look around you can always find someone who is worse off than you!!

Sammy also said that these months of internment with a diet quite lacking in calcium was going to prove disastrous for the teeth of the children here. Unfortunately HK depends on rainwater catchments for its water supply, and so there is no calcium in the water.