大象传媒

(This chapter is part of Len Baynes' book '
The Will to Live
', an account of his wartime experiences with the Cambridgeshire Regiment, his capture in Singapore, and the four years he spent as a prisoner of the Japanese.)

It began when, at four o'clock on a misty afternoon, we boarded S.S. Orcades in Liverpool harbour. Most of us were pleased and excited at the prospect of seeing the world; after many false alarms and three 'embarkation leaves' we were now itching to go. Although we had not been informed of our destination, since we had been trained for open desert warfare and were now issued with tropical kit, we assumed we were off to North Africa.

On the thirteenth of October, 1941, at 7.30am, after remaining docked for three days, we at last heard the rattle of anchors weighed, and our ship nosed slowly out of the harbour. At the age of under twenty-two I was leaving England (lovely name) for the first time.

The Americans had not at this time entered the war. Half-way over the Atlantic, nevertheless, their navy joined our convoy, and we saw our own warships disappear over the skyline in the direction of home.

Our navy had only been able to spare two or three small ships in those difficult days, but the Yanks did the job in style. Their escort included an aircraft carrier, Catalina flying-boat and several more warships. We said "Good old Roosevelt", and felt much safer.

We called at Halifax (Canada), where we landed and marched straight onto the SS West Point, (recently converted to a troop ship from the liner 'Miss America', or so we were told by a member of the crew). Then docked at Trinidad, but not allowed off the boat, and a few days later at Cape Town, where we disembarked, and stayed for three days.

Our next port of call was Bombay, and thence by train to spend two weeks in Ahmednagur, where we drilled at 5am because of the blistering heat once the sun rose. After returning to our ship in Bombay, (still without any idea as to where we were to finish up), we steamed south yet again.

Now the sergeants were paired off to form a team for twenty-four hours a day submarine watch, two hours on and four off. I was paired with Vic Wilson, who would show me his sweetheart's picture, and tell me he knew for certain that he would never see her again.

Then, on the twenty-eighth of January, 1942, twelve days after leaving Bombay, we saw land on the horizon, off the starboard bow. One of the American crew told us that the land we could see was Java. We knew at last into which theatre of war we were probably about to enter.

During that day, when we came under attack from several Japanese planes, all the British troops were sent below the waterline. We heard the heavy thud of bombs exploding, and the lighter bangs of anti-aircraft fire but had no idea as to how the attack was going.

When it was over and we were at last allowed back on deck we found that our ship had not been hit, although we later discovered that several others in our widely spread-out convoy had not fared so well. This was our introduction to the Japanese.

As we pulled into the docks next day, three Hurricanes passed over our heads and we cheered at the sight of those friendly bullseye markings. That was the only opportunity we were to have of seeing them, or any other of our aircraft; they were the last of our air force to be evacuated from the area. We had arrived in Singapore.

During our long voyage the world situation had completely changed, although we had no means of keeping up with the news. The attack on Pearl Harbor had intervened, and America was now in the war with us.

We were in the war with them too, having just lost two of our best battleships off Malaya. We had declared war on the Japs after the Pearl Harbor catastrophe, and the British had sent the warships as their contribution to the Far Eastern war at sea.

After hurriedly disembarking between air raids, we marched away, and were housed in temporary billets at Bournemouth Road in the Katang District of Singapore City.

Singapore itself is an island about twenty miles long, separated from the province of the Malayan (now Malaysian) mainland, which is an isthmus, by a narrow channel known as the Straits of Johore. A causeway existed joining Singapore Island to the mainland, and it carried both road and rail traffic, also the main services, including the sole source of Singapore drinking water.

Chapter 5

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