29 Dec 1941, Colin McEwan Diary

Rumours of bicycle taxis for all of us were prevalent this morning but evidently it was not to be since, falling into separate groups in case of air raid, we moved off as usual. So still in my role of Commander of M.T.B.28 we started covering the road at a good heel and toe pace. Spirits were high and the mouth organ suddenly produced by Pony Moore lifted our feet along the moorland road we were covering. One very welcome halt we had at a wayside teashop – later to prove a howff of Tai’s and mine where doughnuts vanished like “snow off a dike”.

And so we came to Waichow – and halted on the outskirts for tea and cakes. While there we noticed a constant stream of Chinese soldiers passing through – Yu Hon Mau’s troops who were to have relieved HK and who were now on their way to Changsa where for the third time the J’s were to be thrown back. Another – at least for us who by hearsay only knew of W.R.N.s etc – new sight was the appearance of the first of the Chinese Army comfort corps of girls whose job it is to write letters for the troops, do propaganda work among the villages and such work. (From my diary I see Edna is recorded as “First sight of Chinese woman soldier – speaks good English”).

Then came our parade into town – a long procession in columns of three – in the front Chinese and British flags – officers on the flank beside their crews – trying manfully to keep them in step. Impressive it may have been – certainly the town turned out to watch – but the general impression it gave me – slinking along in the rear and beginning to realise how dirty I was – was that of a Salvation Army Saturday night route march just at closing time. In addition to this I felt an irresistible urge to giggle and in this was not helped by the fact that the mouth organ band was playing the Beer Barrel Polka followed by MacMillan’s rendering of “I don’t want to be a soldier” while striding along with a definitely martial air.

Quarters were found in the local mission hospital and after the luxury of a real bath we were entertained to dinner and wine by the local H.Q. where it was again proved that the Navy cannot be beat – Ronny Ashby by some form of magic appearing in collar and tie and looking like a very senior Rear Admiral. And so to bed – real beds – and sleep, real sleep.