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After we had been talking for a while, a call came through for him and afterwards he told me that it was very serious news and that we must get out as soon as possible "but keep it under your hat". He was going to send us back by train the same night but discovered that it was too late and so we pushed off first thing the following morning with our trucks and a rather relieved feeling. The bad news our CO received (so it transpired later) was that General Percival had decided to abandon the 90 mile front from Batu Johore via Kluang to Messina. This line had already been breached in many places and Kluang was doomed. The RAF had moved its bombers to Sumatra, reserving the four airfields of Singapore Island for our fighter squadrons.

We were rather nervous of the journey back as it seemed certain that there must be some Japs around somewhere even if the road hadn't been cut. I did, in fact, fire the only bullet in anger of my entire RAF career. At one point the jungle cleared for about 100 yards on the left side of the road and there was a square (100 yards square) of lane that had been cultivated. There were too sharp "cracks" as we passed and we realised that we were being fired at. There was a slight movement on the edge of the jungle and after recovering from the shock I had time to get away just one round before the road became enclose to jungle once more. I would estimate the odds in favour of me hitting anything (100 yards away from a fast-moving truck) at about 1000 —1.

Without any further alarms we completed a fairly uneventful journey back to Singapore and the transit camp. When we arrived at Transit Camp we were told to get our kit together and moved to Seletar Drome for the real work . Before I describe the last phase at Singapore -- starting with hope that quickly became despair, just a few more words about Seletar. Possibly the largest RAF drome in the world, it had everything except planes. It had rubber trees on two sides and water on the other two. With its Golf Course, Badminton courts, Tennis courts, a fine cinema and other amenities, excellent three stored billets with comfortable beds, lounge chairs, lockers, tables, first class sanitary arrangements, radios etc. it seemed more suitable for a holiday camp than a beleaguered garrison. Dances were held on the camp to shortly before we arrived and when you think of the large number of Japanese then at large in Singapore, it explains a lot. Fifth column activity was rife. Fires started in the Coolie lines at night and the number of times that our Hurricanes were caught on the ground just after they had come down to refuel was too frequent to be mere coincidence.

However, we settled down in our new billets which to us seemed quite luxurious.

The previous day, the Japanese had started their regular bombing of Singapore -- a bombing that was persistent, heavy, amazingly accurate and almost entirely confined to militarily objectives. From personal experience and observation I knew this to be true, although I fear that propaganda at the time (one of the poisons that war brings) may have tried to convince people at home otherwise. Whilst we hardly felt kindly disposed towards the Japs in view of what happened to us, we must in fairness admit that their Far Eastern campaign was masterly (even allowing for our own shortcomings) and if they made devastating use of their overwhelming air superiority they only did what we would do at later date.

Our squadron went into operations the next day even though only about half our planes were assembled. Everyone was most cheerful and Squadron Leader Landells was determined that next time the Japs came we were going to give them the shock of their lives.

They came all right -- the next morning and every other morning while Singapore was still in our hands -- but I doubt whether it was Japanese who got the shock. Among the pilots we never saw again after our first real action was our CO Squadron Leader Landells, a fine man whom we all admired.

A lot of nonsense was written about their Navy O in the papers at that time. The fact was that although it may not have been quite as solidly built as a Hurricane it was faster and more maneuverable and was built for service and the Far Eastern conditions AND — our Hurricanes couldn't catch them.

It's difficult to give a chronological account of what happened at Seletar, as one-day seemed much like another and it was just one long nightmare. Although we started off hopefully enough it was really hopeless right from the beginning.

Every morning about 10 o'clock, across the clear sky would come a formation of 27 Japanese bombers, to be followed a little later by another wave of 27. Above them would fly an escort of Navy Os. Their remorseless and uncannily accurate bombing was usually directed at one of two targets -- the naval dockyard and Seletar drome, which was obviously good policy and proved completely successful for the Japanese.

When Malaya fell, we had no warning of their approach until they were over the island and then of course, it was too late. By the time our Hurricanes got the height the raid was over. Before Malaya fell, we sometimes got them up in time but they were hopelessly outnumbered. Our fighters would attack the bombers, and out of the sky Navy Os would swoop down on our fighters in far superior numbers. It was a horrible experience for our pilots, but so dreadful was the bombing below that not one of them would prefer to stay on the ground, preferring to have at least a chance of hitting back.

Jan 1942
With losses in the air and even greater losses in planes on the ground, after the first few days we could rarely put more than six to eight fighters in the air at once.

My knee rather handicapped me in diving quickly for shelter, but the raids were so predictable, that whilst I was under the M.O I was instructed to limp along to one of the slit benches near the runway and under the rubber trees after sick parade in anticipation of the inevitable raid. The MO (no doubt partly with an eye on self-preservation) always made sure sick parade was over by 9.45. When the raid was over I would report for duty.

One of our pilots lost his nerve completely and for three days he wouldn't go near a plane. The MO said that his only hope was to go up again and regain his confidence with a successful flight. Up he went again, persuaded by his colleagues, half crazy and a bundle of nerves. Inevitably, he never came back. On the ground things were no better. Some of the fellows were in hospital with their nerves completely gone. You can hardly blame them. For weeks our drome was bombed every morning -- accurately and with devastating effect -- not just the runway but all sections of the drome that we were using and where our planes were stored.

Perhaps you can imagine an average day. It is morning and the clock is sweeping round to 10 o'clock.. You know that a raid is inevitable shortly. The sirens sound -- our planes (all six of them) takeoff -- the flag goes up to show that the raiders have been sighted -- we dived into shelter trench -- in the four seconds you see 27 enemy bombers flying high in the sky in perfect formation that no ack ack is able to break. Our fighters are far above, fighting a losing battle with Japanese fighters. You wait to see which direction they will take, praying that this time it will be the naval dockyards, the instinct of self-interest being strong. The planes keep straight on -- it is the Naval Dockyard this time. You get out of your trench as -- a short distance away, horribly sickening thuds tell that some other poor devils are going through it. Thick columns of smoke rise to the sky and you know that once again the Japs have hit what they came to hit. The "all clear" sounds and our planes come in (all four of them) -- before we can touch them the sirens sound again and the flag is up -- this time the Japs will have no opposition at all. Our planes are on the ground with no fuel and no ammunition. It's too late to do anything now and everyone leaps for cover again -- once again you peep out of your shelter -- once again you see in the sky 27 bombers in perfect formation. This time they wheel round the sky and you have a horrible feeling in the pit of your stomach as you realise that this time you are for it. You feel absolutely helpless -- you can't do anything about it -- you haven't even the consolation that our fighters or ack ac are putting up any sort of show. You lay down on the bottom of your trench with your hands over ears, taking care not to touch the sides of the trench and keep your stomach off the ground. There! It comes -- there's a whining noise in the air, getting louder and louder -- then there's a sickening thud and explosion -- there's another thud, nearer this time -- and another and another -- and another -- each getting nearer and louder -- then comes one that almost deafens you -- the ground shivers around you -- you are almost incapable of thought and movement -- your shelter is full of smoke and dust and smell of explosive fills the air -- -- other thuds follow, but you realise that they are getting further away -- you have survived another day.

Somewhat shaken, you crawl of the shelter and gaze around. Smoke is pouring out of a wrecked hanger behind -- and four Hurricanes are now two. -- Flames of are pouring from another building and our runway is rejoicing in a number of bombed craters which make it unusable. They will have to be filled in and levelled out as far as possible before the following morning. -- -- and so on each day.

These morning raids were not the only ones we got of course, but by their regularity and power they far surpassed what we normally got in the afternoon. Indeed one of these afternoon raids had a most unusual load. Leaflets and what appeared to be money rained out of the sky. The money wasn't acceptable in our canteen and even though it said that the Japanese government promised to pay the bearer on demand "One Dollar". I doubt whether anyone taken prisoner was able to profit from it.

Eventually it got so bad and morale was so badly shaken that it was decided that when we had got our planes in the air for the morning raids only a skeleton staff would remain on the drome and the rest would be rushed off in lorries until the raid was over. So far as possible everyone took their turn to be on this skeleton staff. Thus it happened that each day the drome was almost totally evacuated during part of the morning whilst the majority of fellows cowered in the upper trees near Dixie village. (A Chinese and Malay settlement).

I suppose all of us were pretty jittery and in nervous state but some poor chaps lost control of themselves completely. I was in the shelter one-day with a fellow who had gone completely to pieces. As he saw the formation wheel round in our direction he screamed hysterically at the top of his voice and as the bombs fell he lay on the floor sobbing like a heartbroken child.

Needless to say, we got precious little time off -- usually working from morning until the light failed at night. And how glad we always were when the night came -- and how we dreaded each new day.

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