08 Dec 1941, Colin McEwan Diary

((There appear to be 10 pages missing from the original document.))

…..Emotions varied from a certain not unpleasant excitement to a sober realisation that HK was now being invested ((invaded?)) and, looking back now, I personally, am thankful that I did not then realise how futile were our expectations of weeks and months of warfare. 

((It is possible that this introduction to the only  extant version was compiled from the missing pages by Pop, but I doubt it, as he talks of “during the morning” when all the other events are headed up with a date – I assume it is December 8^th, Monday, when the Japanese invaded HK from across the New Territories.))

 During the morning, while awaiting the arrival of the rest of our group, Teesdale and I went over the Reservoir to the Royal Scots position to borrow .45 ammunition, and, since this entailed some cooperation with the Quartermaster, we passed the time having a pleasant beer with Capt. Jones, sitting by the roadside with all of us trying to realise that we really were at war and not engaged in some large scale exercise – a feeling which persisted with me up to the time Kowloon was evacuated. To collect this ammunition I had to climb up and have my first, and providentially my last, visit to the ill fated Shing Mun redoubt – that warren of M.G. nests and tunnels which only 36 hours later was to prove not a warren but a snare for the company occupying it including our host Jones.

On arrival back at the bungalow we found the complete unit there (with the exception of Mike ((Mike Kendall, head of SOE then)). Parsons, Gardner, Day, Corneck, Teesdale, Holmes ((later Sir Ronald, Secretary for Chinese Affairs Post-War)), myself, and Thompson ((later Sir Robert, formerly HK Police, later a Counter-guerrilla Experts in Malaya during the Communist Insurgency Post-war)) who had just left Macao in time and arrived in HK along with the first bombing raid. Tiffin over, we started in on the removal of stores – already packed – to No.2. On the way up, just as we started on the slope to Half Hour Pass the crump of shell fire sounded ahead of us. Our own guns were ranging and there was nothing for it but to retrace our steps, sweating and swearing since, unused as we were to shell fire so near us, on the whistle of a shell, down we went and, having loads of some 50 lbs. on our backs, our going down was painful. However, up the trail we went and, having parked our loads, returned to the Bungalow with thoughts of food and bed – just on dusk.

Our hopes were rudely shattered. There was Mike with the news that the Japanese had crossed the border, were passing over Laffans plane, and were already on the two main roads and so out we had to get again. Thompson had gone into town for our portable transmitter and the period of waiting for him in the darkened bungalow was, I think, the ((‘earliest’ crossed out, replaced with what looks like ‘earnest')) period of the HK war. Now the blackout meant something and the meal eaten in half light, while Mike gave out final instructions, was in keeping with the setting: - the radio giving us the news of the various points, apart from HK, which were being attacked, the circle of faces round the table without the usual laughter which I associated with that group, and the fuller realisation that our training had been only in time. With Bob back, we set out in pitch darkness – a perfect night for the job and soon instead of the low voices all we could hear was the slither of feet and only with difficulty could we distinguish the figure in front. This was not to last however, and by our first halt, we were moving in that peculiar half light of HK. The trip up is one that none of us will readily forget; at first reasonable going, the trail developed into the typical rocky path of Chinese hillside – falls were frequent – we were sweating with full equipment and packs – one could imagine sounds and see movements where there were none and the last 300 yards saw legs becoming weary and packs which had been heaved up easily now cut into shoulders and backs. 

Personally I was feeling pretty done but everyone else seemed to be plodding on and so I plodded too, comforting myself with the thought that they were all feeling as bad as me. To complete the picture, rain was falling and, on getting to the position, Day and I had an hour’s sleep on the open rock before things were ready and that night, or rather during what was left of it, we slept in the magazine, head on box of gelignite and feet among Bren ammo, and slept well. Just before dinner Wattie Gardner said “Well, this is a far cry from Minishant” and once as I woke in the night to hear the water outside and feel the explosives against my ribs, I thought just what a “far cry” it was.