16 Feb 1942, Barbara Anslow's diary

For almost a week I've been well fed, and if that stops, I shall have at least have had this little building-up.

Not hard work at the hospital, a little shorthand and typing, somewhere comparatively warm to sit - and hospital rations, which I live for.   ((Hospital rations were better than at Married Quarters because when nurses and patients left Queen Mary Hospital for Stanley, they managed to bring much of their dry kitchen stock which helped to supplement the rations for some months.  Also, being a tiny community the food was better cooked.)) Two slices of thin bread, one with butter and jam, and tea, at 9am.  At 1pm we get the main meal, rice, veg and generally (very little) meat.  Curry once.  Another day roast pork, true we only each had 3 pieces, one fat, one crackling, one lean, but the sight of the roast did my heart good.  Cup of tea at 4pm.  At 6pm soup or stew- and 2 slices of bread.

I know I'm feeling much better about food because for the past few nights I've not had to have my imaginary meal in bed.  Time passes rather slowly at work, that is because my thoughts are  so centred on the tiffin meal.
 
The reason we non--resident staff like me are on hospital rations is because mealtimes in the other blocks would have come in the middle of our working shifts.
 
Today there was a special edition of the Hong Kong paper announcing that Singapore had surrendered unconditionally.  We didn't buy it, ((quite cheap, but money was short – just what we happened to have on us when captured.  Some internees bought it and passed it round to friends.  Probably used as toilet paper, as we were only supplied with Chinese rough brown paper.)).  I've been sleeping in bed with Mum for past few nights because it's so cold.
 
I'm still afraid Mum doesn't get enough to eat.  Several nights ago we succumbed to the temptation of the tin of sausages Mum brought from our flat.  Fried half one night in the tin on wood fire (some of the doll's house). Then fried small pieces of bread in the fat left in the tin.  The result was delicious.   Next night we finished the remainder of the sausages cold - I ate all the fat scrapings neat. Our stores now consist of sugar, milk powder, a tin of jam and tin of pineapple, and pork and beans.  I think we should save one of the latter till Mabel comes, but Olive is very hungry and Mabel may not come for ages.