Memoirs of
Mrs May Morton
wife of John Morton, Manager, Irrawaddy Flotilla Company
Mrs May Morton
wife of John Morton, Manager, Irrawaddy Flotilla Company
Foreword
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In 1939 the world once again was wracked by war. Europe collapsed as the Axis Powers swept across the continent. Britain remained a bulwark against the spread of nationalist and fascist ideologies. In the Far East, tensions had risen as Japan invaded China. With the subsequent attacks on Pearl Harbour and Singapore in 1941, British possessions in the Pacific came under direct threat. John Morton, a manager with the Irrawaddy Flotilla Company based in Rangoon, was called upon to organize the evacuation of material and personnel as the Army ordered withdrawal up Burma’s river system to establish a northern line blocking the Japanese invasion forces. His wife, May, worked tirelessly in support of the war effort for the Burma War Comforts Association and the Women’s Civil Defence Committee. Each had to make their own way to India. May travelled to northern Burma before flying to Calcutta, while John shepherded the fleet further and further upriver before eventually hiking over razor-back mountain ridges to Manipur. This is their story, in their own words, based on family documents and their personal journals from those troubled days. |
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Letter from Lillie McClymont, May’s sister
1 February 1976 “. . . when we first knew John Morton, he was home on leave from Burma. He had a father but no mother, two brothers but no sisters. One brother was in England and the younger one just married. His father, George Dickson Morton, was the son of Hugh Morton, a provision merchant in Tradeston. “For many years a Member (Moderate) of Glasgow Town Council George became a Magistrate (Baillie) and, for some years prior to his death, was Treasurer of the Corporation of the City of Glasgow. He worked at William Stevenson & Co. (paint contractors), eventually becoming a senior partner. He was twice married and had three sons by Joanna Longmore and two sons by Alison Lillian Proudfoot. |
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“George’s second son, John, was a shipping man who went to Burma and ultimately became Manager of the Irrawaddy Flotilla Co. Ltd. He was married to Mary (May) Elizabeth McClymont in Rangoon and they had four children: Elizabeth, John Dickson, Hamish & Andrew Kenneth. Only two survived their childhood – John Dickson (Jock) and Andrew Kenneth (Ken).
“When Baillie Morton married for the second time in 1920 May attended the wedding, before she sailed for Rangoon to marry Johnnie (as we called him then). George was an exceedingly nice, kind man and, I may say, was strictly “TT” and a non-smoker. We used to go to parties he and Alison gave – the old-fashioned type of party where there was playing, singing, reciting & parlour games – followed by a fine hot supper – great fun. We, the McClymonts, were always very friendly with the Mortons and they came to our parties too! |
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“Mary Elizabeth Morton was the younger daughter of Andrew McClymont and Elizabeth Haddon Ford McHardy. Andrew was a son of Andrew McClymont, Master Tailor, Mauchline, Ayrshire and Margaret McGregor Colquhoun, but although he learned all about the trade, he was not himself a Tailor. In due course, he and his brother, James, with one other, became partners in a firm of uniform clothing contractors (McClymont, Dewar & Co. Ltd.), making uniforms for Navy, Army, Police, Fire Brigades, etc. (They even at one time fitted out Canadian Units including Band uniform, kilts, sporrans, etc.). Andrew & Elizabeth McHardy were married in 1886, he being 28 years of age and she 21 years. They had 3 children – Andrew, Lillie, and Mary Elizabeth. |
Irrawaddy Flotilla Company, Ltd.
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John Morton joined the Irrawaddy Flotilla Company and travelled out to Burma in 1912 at the age of 23. He would work for the company until his death in 1942, rising to the position of Manager.
As Dorothy Laird wrote in her history of IFC’s parent company (Paddy Henderson, The Story of P. Henderson & Co., George Outram & Company Ltd, 1961) . . . “The Irrawaddy Flotilla Company, which was to become one of the largest inland waterway companies in the world, had a modest beginning. Few countries are so dependent on water transport as Burma, with its great water system of the Irrawaddy and Chindwin Rivers, as well as the Sittang and Salween.” “The Second World War brought tragedy on a catastrophic scale to the Irrawaddy Flotilla Company. Not only was its magnificent fleet, the greatest inland waterways fleet in the East, almost completely wiped out, but it was destroyed at the hands of its faithful servants, the staff of the Company, in order to prevent the vessels from falling into the hands of the Japanese.” “On January 1, 1942, when Burma was threatened by the Japanese, the Irrawaddy Flotilla Company fleet consisted of 650 fine vessels ranging in type from 325-foot-long paddlers to 50 foot buoying vessels. Four months later, by the end of April, no fewer than 550 of these vessels had been scuttled.” “The wound was the deeper, because the invasion of Lower Burma took place in February, the best month in the year for attempting a sea crossing to India. But at that time the Army was confident that they would be able to hold Upper Burma at least, and the fleet . . . was ordered upriver to act as troop transports, store vessels and hospital ships. By the time the fall of Burma was seen to be inevitable, only four vessels were in a position to take advantage of the sea escape to India.” After war with Japan ended, the IFC returned to Burma as Agent of the Governor for the operation of such Inland Water Transport & ancillary services as necessary to help rebuild the country. Political developments resulted in Burma obtaining independence January 4, 1948 and the company was subsequently nationalized on June 1, 1948. The company went into liquidation on June 26, 1950 and was finally wound up on April 18, 1957. In order that China could be supplied during its war with the invading Japanese, construction of a road from Burma to Yunnan Province was started in 1938. John was despatched by the Company to evaluate the road’s condition and potential in the winter of 1939. |
John Morton
Report on the New Road to China
Report on the New Road to China
29th January
Set out from Rangoon by the afternoon train for Mandalay, arriving there at 5.45a.m., met by MacDonald. Found the bus which I am borrowing from Messrs. Steel Bros. and proceeded to fill up with petrol. The tank on the roof holds 10 gallons but there is no way of getting it out the tank unless one tips up the bus or siphons it out. The latter sounds easy, but a rubber tube is necessary. I thought I might buy a piece in Maymyo and after several shops I located a piece belonging to a douche can at the Chemists.
The trip up from Mandalay was uneventful and I soon got into the way of handling the bus.
After a breakfast and strawberries & cream at Maymyo, over which I did not waste much time, I was on the road again.
Found it slow going on account of the Military moving out to camp and they cluttered up the road with bullock carts, mule carts, bicycles, horses and of course the infantry.
The bridge over the Goteik Stream is a temporary one and is no doubt stronger than it looks. In any case I made Mg Kan walk over it in case anything happened to the bus.
The road after Hsipaw bifurcates and unfortunately, I took the right hand and the better-looking road. I discovered I had made a mistake after going 20 miles along it. This meant 20 miles back, altogether 40 miles, to get on to the Lashio Road again and I arrived at Lashio at 5.30p.m. Tired but quite pleased to have arrived.
After a bath I went to meet Liu who came up by train along with the cook.
Have decided that as the bus is bigger than I imagined we do not need a second bus. This will be a considerable saving. Made enquiry about a decent driver. Dinner of sausages, eggs & coffee and then to bed.
Set out from Rangoon by the afternoon train for Mandalay, arriving there at 5.45a.m., met by MacDonald. Found the bus which I am borrowing from Messrs. Steel Bros. and proceeded to fill up with petrol. The tank on the roof holds 10 gallons but there is no way of getting it out the tank unless one tips up the bus or siphons it out. The latter sounds easy, but a rubber tube is necessary. I thought I might buy a piece in Maymyo and after several shops I located a piece belonging to a douche can at the Chemists.
The trip up from Mandalay was uneventful and I soon got into the way of handling the bus.
After a breakfast and strawberries & cream at Maymyo, over which I did not waste much time, I was on the road again.
Found it slow going on account of the Military moving out to camp and they cluttered up the road with bullock carts, mule carts, bicycles, horses and of course the infantry.
The bridge over the Goteik Stream is a temporary one and is no doubt stronger than it looks. In any case I made Mg Kan walk over it in case anything happened to the bus.
The road after Hsipaw bifurcates and unfortunately, I took the right hand and the better-looking road. I discovered I had made a mistake after going 20 miles along it. This meant 20 miles back, altogether 40 miles, to get on to the Lashio Road again and I arrived at Lashio at 5.30p.m. Tired but quite pleased to have arrived.
After a bath I went to meet Liu who came up by train along with the cook.
Have decided that as the bus is bigger than I imagined we do not need a second bus. This will be a considerable saving. Made enquiry about a decent driver. Dinner of sausages, eggs & coffee and then to bed.
31st January
Up at seven and glad to have hot tea.
Presented the first of our letters of introduction. Mr. Yao made us very welcome and asked us to lunch - Chinese food, but the nearest to English I have come across. He tells me that he is building a workshop and will have 400 cars stationed here to take the munitions right into China. He expects things to be moving soon but cannot give a date. The railway people say that shipments will start on 7th February. Had a look at the dumps for the shells - corrugated roofs, sandbags and earth. The railway has made a good job of the sidings at a cost of over 1 Lahk. Mr. Yao says the I.F.C. will get a portion of the traffic but that Lashio will be the main route.
I met Mr. Lee who is going to be stationed in Bhamo to superintend shipments made from that end. All complained of dear freights and hadn’t heard of the latest reductions.
Up at seven and glad to have hot tea.
Presented the first of our letters of introduction. Mr. Yao made us very welcome and asked us to lunch - Chinese food, but the nearest to English I have come across. He tells me that he is building a workshop and will have 400 cars stationed here to take the munitions right into China. He expects things to be moving soon but cannot give a date. The railway people say that shipments will start on 7th February. Had a look at the dumps for the shells - corrugated roofs, sandbags and earth. The railway has made a good job of the sidings at a cost of over 1 Lahk. Mr. Yao says the I.F.C. will get a portion of the traffic but that Lashio will be the main route.
I met Mr. Lee who is going to be stationed in Bhamo to superintend shipments made from that end. All complained of dear freights and hadn’t heard of the latest reductions.
Called on Crow, the Asst. Superintendent, and got a pass for the use of the road.
Mr. Yao has given us letters of introduction to the Sawbwa of Mongshi and to officials along the road so as to make the journey fast and pleasant.
Mentioned that Mr. Lockley never called on his way back to tell him of his adventures and conclusions.
Have filled up the car with petrol & oil and have 40 spare tins of petrol on board. There is not a great deal of room for other things, but we shall manage.
The servants are feeling the cold and it is just going to be too bad for them when we climb up higher.
Mr. Yao has given us letters of introduction to the Sawbwa of Mongshi and to officials along the road so as to make the journey fast and pleasant.
Mentioned that Mr. Lockley never called on his way back to tell him of his adventures and conclusions.
Have filled up the car with petrol & oil and have 40 spare tins of petrol on board. There is not a great deal of room for other things, but we shall manage.
The servants are feeling the cold and it is just going to be too bad for them when we climb up higher.
1st February
Ready to start at 6.30 but Mg Hlaing the driver, to whom I had given Rs.20/- advance, did not run up till 7.30 by which time I had sent scouts out to find him.
I drove to start with and found the road very bad. All along it men are working and every few yards there is a heap of metal encroaching on the road and making it anything but easy to drive.
I handed over to Mg Hlaing outside Hose where we had a picnic lunch under a tree. A tin of petrol costs Rs. 5/12 at Hose.
We crossed the border and met the Sawbwa of Gafang at Wanting, then on over pretty bad roads till we came across a huge tree lying right across the road. Along came Mr. Haiow a road engineer in a truck and he tried a diversion. It was not too successful as it took him two hours to go 100 yards. The coolies are Shans who are very inefficient workers. Our car got through at the first attempt but by this time it was dark, and we still had 20 miles to go over very difficult country. However, we arrived at Mengshi about 9 p.m. armed with letters to the Sawbwa. There are 4 Sawbwas here – all brothers and our letters are to the No. 4. He was asleep but later granted us permission to sleep in one of his houses. We were all so tired and cold that we could have slept under the car. We had kippers & beer for dinner and off to bed. The bedroom where we slept had a coat hanger on the wall. I noticed it in the morning. Three truck loads of Chinese workers for the Aerospace Factory passed us. One American in the party.
The Sweli River was in sight for a good part of the day.
Ready to start at 6.30 but Mg Hlaing the driver, to whom I had given Rs.20/- advance, did not run up till 7.30 by which time I had sent scouts out to find him.
I drove to start with and found the road very bad. All along it men are working and every few yards there is a heap of metal encroaching on the road and making it anything but easy to drive.
I handed over to Mg Hlaing outside Hose where we had a picnic lunch under a tree. A tin of petrol costs Rs. 5/12 at Hose.
We crossed the border and met the Sawbwa of Gafang at Wanting, then on over pretty bad roads till we came across a huge tree lying right across the road. Along came Mr. Haiow a road engineer in a truck and he tried a diversion. It was not too successful as it took him two hours to go 100 yards. The coolies are Shans who are very inefficient workers. Our car got through at the first attempt but by this time it was dark, and we still had 20 miles to go over very difficult country. However, we arrived at Mengshi about 9 p.m. armed with letters to the Sawbwa. There are 4 Sawbwas here – all brothers and our letters are to the No. 4. He was asleep but later granted us permission to sleep in one of his houses. We were all so tired and cold that we could have slept under the car. We had kippers & beer for dinner and off to bed. The bedroom where we slept had a coat hanger on the wall. I noticed it in the morning. Three truck loads of Chinese workers for the Aerospace Factory passed us. One American in the party.
The Sweli River was in sight for a good part of the day.
2nd February
Tea & eggs and shaving water at 7.30 but as usual it is impossible to get started at the hour arranged. We got off at 8.50 over a bad road to Lungling. Part of the road is made of river pebbles as big as my head which makes pretty rough going.
The Customs stopped us here and I had to pay Rs. 412/8 duty on the car, which is recoverable on the return.
We called on the Magistrate who visa-ed my passport and asked us to breakfast. We couldn’t wait however, so pushed on over a small valley to the hills. Most of the journey this day was in low gear. The hills are very steep, and quite frightening in parts. The road is scratched along the sides of the hills, which in some cases are almost precipices. It is narrow in places and only fit for one-way traffic. At others two cars can pass and we met the first 8 trucks of the South West Transportation Co. (SWTCo.) going to Chefang where they would meet Burmese lorries with munitions. One passed so close to us that it took the paint off the car.
Even going down hill it is necessary to keep in gear, and often low gear, as it is so steep and the corners so sharp from full lock to full lock that it would be foolish to rely on the brakes.
We built a fire and warmed up what had been cooked the night before. Then on again, up and up, till at last we saw the Salween. Green water, deep and with no shore, the hills just come down like a V with water at the bottom. We must have run along the Salween Valley for 4 miles before we came to the suspension bridge – guarded by a young fellow with a spear. After showing our passport we were allowed to pass and to start the climb on the other side. It is heart breaking work and we got about 6 miles to the gallon. Paoshan was made about 7 p.m. The light goes early here as the mountains shut it out. From the Salween the road is much better, and it was a pleasure to get on to the flat near Paoshan and to make speed even with the lights on.
We stopped at the S.W.T. Co’s place – sentry on duty with fixed bayonet. We were allowed in and made very welcome. A glass of beer to our hosts and they were very friendly. Liu has gone to have Chinese food and I have dined on sausages and have ordered chota hazri for 6 a.m.
Tea & eggs and shaving water at 7.30 but as usual it is impossible to get started at the hour arranged. We got off at 8.50 over a bad road to Lungling. Part of the road is made of river pebbles as big as my head which makes pretty rough going.
The Customs stopped us here and I had to pay Rs. 412/8 duty on the car, which is recoverable on the return.
We called on the Magistrate who visa-ed my passport and asked us to breakfast. We couldn’t wait however, so pushed on over a small valley to the hills. Most of the journey this day was in low gear. The hills are very steep, and quite frightening in parts. The road is scratched along the sides of the hills, which in some cases are almost precipices. It is narrow in places and only fit for one-way traffic. At others two cars can pass and we met the first 8 trucks of the South West Transportation Co. (SWTCo.) going to Chefang where they would meet Burmese lorries with munitions. One passed so close to us that it took the paint off the car.
Even going down hill it is necessary to keep in gear, and often low gear, as it is so steep and the corners so sharp from full lock to full lock that it would be foolish to rely on the brakes.
We built a fire and warmed up what had been cooked the night before. Then on again, up and up, till at last we saw the Salween. Green water, deep and with no shore, the hills just come down like a V with water at the bottom. We must have run along the Salween Valley for 4 miles before we came to the suspension bridge – guarded by a young fellow with a spear. After showing our passport we were allowed to pass and to start the climb on the other side. It is heart breaking work and we got about 6 miles to the gallon. Paoshan was made about 7 p.m. The light goes early here as the mountains shut it out. From the Salween the road is much better, and it was a pleasure to get on to the flat near Paoshan and to make speed even with the lights on.
We stopped at the S.W.T. Co’s place – sentry on duty with fixed bayonet. We were allowed in and made very welcome. A glass of beer to our hosts and they were very friendly. Liu has gone to have Chinese food and I have dined on sausages and have ordered chota hazri for 6 a.m.
3rd February
Mr. Chow lived up to his name and provided us with a very good chota hazri – fried eggs, bits of ham, rice, beans, duck & soup and I made the chopsticks work.
We left at 7.30 to do 162 miles to Shakwan. This sounds easy, but we did not arrive at Shakwan till 8 p.m. The road goes over mountains and then down to the valley of the Mekong. Along this river for miles, then across the bridge after examination by officials and a sentry with up-to-date rifle and ammunition. Then there is a steady climb for miles, the engine temperature was over 200 degrees and at last we had to stop to let the engine cool. We emptied the radiator and filled it with cold water and went on again. Soon we had to stop for the same reason, and we decided to call the halt lunch time. We were on a small burn – icy cold, but I washed my feet in it seeing that I have not had a bath since Lashio on 31st January – only 3 days ago, but it seems a long time. It is of course cold and no sweaty clothes about one – still, I am looking forward to a bath at Kunming. After lunch the car started fine and we made good progress in low gear and then in gear with the spark switched off to brake us down the hills. On the next occasion we had to stop to cool the engine, we asked how far we had to go to Shakwan and were told over a range of mountains. This was somewhat disheartening but there was nothing for it but to go on. We climbed very high - over 8,700 feet and then down to 5000 and up again. It will be fine to see a road with two sides to it. Here there is one side – a wall – and the other side is half a mile across a chasm. The driver has done well. I drove for a little today, but it was just about the time the engine was fading out, so I didn’t enjoy it. We have had several optical delusions today – not only myself but the driver. Sometimes we thought we were running downhill while the streamlet at the roadside was running towards us. It was only when we were around a bend and looking back that we were convinced that the road sloped the way the water went.
There is a moon and we are glad of it for dark falls early in the hills. We have not passed a car today, but road workers are in evidence every mile. All today there has been about 50% of the coolies with goitre, so the water must have too much lime in it and lack iodine. At last we debouched out of a gorge onto the plain of Shakwan and soon the town appeared. I am disappointed with the Chinese towns so far – not even the walled cities have electric lights, and everyone seems to go to bed at 7 p.m. except the children and dogs. No lights appear in the houses for, of course, there are no glass windows. As I write in this old temple, my window is covered with paper – but this is a swell place and the light will no doubt come in at 6 a.m. The welcome here was not so hot as last night. Two officials without a word to say but puso and sih – no and yes. One looks like a German. We offered them some beer, but they are not drinkers. They had a wire to say we were coming but had not prepared anything for us. Not even the usual cup of tea or hot water. They said they didn’t know if we took Chinese food or not, but they might have taken a chance. It has been a tiring day and I am ready to sleep at 9.30 p.m.
A visit to the honourable hole in the floor, which in other countries would be the W.C., is quite an adventure in the dark. Wind whistles round corners and doors creak and slam behind one. There is much to be said for a bathroom adjoining the bedroom as we have in Rangoon. I’m afraid we are pampered. My eye is sore and inflamed with dust and keeping a too close watch on the khud.
Mr. Chow lived up to his name and provided us with a very good chota hazri – fried eggs, bits of ham, rice, beans, duck & soup and I made the chopsticks work.
We left at 7.30 to do 162 miles to Shakwan. This sounds easy, but we did not arrive at Shakwan till 8 p.m. The road goes over mountains and then down to the valley of the Mekong. Along this river for miles, then across the bridge after examination by officials and a sentry with up-to-date rifle and ammunition. Then there is a steady climb for miles, the engine temperature was over 200 degrees and at last we had to stop to let the engine cool. We emptied the radiator and filled it with cold water and went on again. Soon we had to stop for the same reason, and we decided to call the halt lunch time. We were on a small burn – icy cold, but I washed my feet in it seeing that I have not had a bath since Lashio on 31st January – only 3 days ago, but it seems a long time. It is of course cold and no sweaty clothes about one – still, I am looking forward to a bath at Kunming. After lunch the car started fine and we made good progress in low gear and then in gear with the spark switched off to brake us down the hills. On the next occasion we had to stop to cool the engine, we asked how far we had to go to Shakwan and were told over a range of mountains. This was somewhat disheartening but there was nothing for it but to go on. We climbed very high - over 8,700 feet and then down to 5000 and up again. It will be fine to see a road with two sides to it. Here there is one side – a wall – and the other side is half a mile across a chasm. The driver has done well. I drove for a little today, but it was just about the time the engine was fading out, so I didn’t enjoy it. We have had several optical delusions today – not only myself but the driver. Sometimes we thought we were running downhill while the streamlet at the roadside was running towards us. It was only when we were around a bend and looking back that we were convinced that the road sloped the way the water went.
There is a moon and we are glad of it for dark falls early in the hills. We have not passed a car today, but road workers are in evidence every mile. All today there has been about 50% of the coolies with goitre, so the water must have too much lime in it and lack iodine. At last we debouched out of a gorge onto the plain of Shakwan and soon the town appeared. I am disappointed with the Chinese towns so far – not even the walled cities have electric lights, and everyone seems to go to bed at 7 p.m. except the children and dogs. No lights appear in the houses for, of course, there are no glass windows. As I write in this old temple, my window is covered with paper – but this is a swell place and the light will no doubt come in at 6 a.m. The welcome here was not so hot as last night. Two officials without a word to say but puso and sih – no and yes. One looks like a German. We offered them some beer, but they are not drinkers. They had a wire to say we were coming but had not prepared anything for us. Not even the usual cup of tea or hot water. They said they didn’t know if we took Chinese food or not, but they might have taken a chance. It has been a tiring day and I am ready to sleep at 9.30 p.m.
A visit to the honourable hole in the floor, which in other countries would be the W.C., is quite an adventure in the dark. Wind whistles round corners and doors creak and slam behind one. There is much to be said for a bathroom adjoining the bedroom as we have in Rangoon. I’m afraid we are pampered. My eye is sore and inflamed with dust and keeping a too close watch on the khud.
4th February
The Governor’s Cup Day in Rangoon, so we decided to take it easy at Shakwan. A late rise and then a visit to the village to see the traders. We had a talk with one big merchant who buys tea from the Shan States. This struck us as strange – like coals to Newcastle. Twist and cotton are brought in from Lashio and Bhamo. Very little goes out now that the orpiment mines are confiscated by Government. The President of the local Chamber of Commerce, from whom the mines were taken because he was keeping up the price, told us that the mule traffic via Tengyueh is bound to suffer as government officials have been around canvassing for lorry loads for the return trip to Lashio – munitions in and produce out. Up till now there has been no lorry business, but we saw the first 8 going west and they will quote rates to undercut the mules. This sounds bad for us and so our only chance would seem to be to cut rates in a drastic manner and so try to attract the traffic through Nankham. The steamer freight, however, bears very little weight compared with the mule freight. Hides and some bristles go from here, mostly to Kunming.
I am disappointed in this place, as also Talifoo which we visit 10 miles away, as there seems to be little doing but local produce in a small way. Beans, nuts, shoes, saddlery, eating shops and no big export trade. I met Mr. Allan, a missionary in Tali, but he knew of no exports except the orpiment (mines about two stages south of Shakwan), the hides and bristles. The people look healthy but poor and they get along on very little – no electric lights in Talifoo which was a civilised town before London was thought of. All these places shut down at dark and present a dead appearance. They do not want electric light as they do not get up till daylight.
Sanitary arrangements are primitive, streets are very narrow, and stalls encroach on what little room there is. Donkeys, mules and ponies jostle with the people. Today was Market Day in Tali – this happens twice a month only and I imagine things have altered little since the days of Kublai Khan.
At a narrow turning in Shakwan we had to stop for a Chev. car containing Mr. Morch-Hansen of the Texas Oil Co. who is going to Burma to see conditions along the road.
The Governor’s Cup Day in Rangoon, so we decided to take it easy at Shakwan. A late rise and then a visit to the village to see the traders. We had a talk with one big merchant who buys tea from the Shan States. This struck us as strange – like coals to Newcastle. Twist and cotton are brought in from Lashio and Bhamo. Very little goes out now that the orpiment mines are confiscated by Government. The President of the local Chamber of Commerce, from whom the mines were taken because he was keeping up the price, told us that the mule traffic via Tengyueh is bound to suffer as government officials have been around canvassing for lorry loads for the return trip to Lashio – munitions in and produce out. Up till now there has been no lorry business, but we saw the first 8 going west and they will quote rates to undercut the mules. This sounds bad for us and so our only chance would seem to be to cut rates in a drastic manner and so try to attract the traffic through Nankham. The steamer freight, however, bears very little weight compared with the mule freight. Hides and some bristles go from here, mostly to Kunming.
I am disappointed in this place, as also Talifoo which we visit 10 miles away, as there seems to be little doing but local produce in a small way. Beans, nuts, shoes, saddlery, eating shops and no big export trade. I met Mr. Allan, a missionary in Tali, but he knew of no exports except the orpiment (mines about two stages south of Shakwan), the hides and bristles. The people look healthy but poor and they get along on very little – no electric lights in Talifoo which was a civilised town before London was thought of. All these places shut down at dark and present a dead appearance. They do not want electric light as they do not get up till daylight.
Sanitary arrangements are primitive, streets are very narrow, and stalls encroach on what little room there is. Donkeys, mules and ponies jostle with the people. Today was Market Day in Tali – this happens twice a month only and I imagine things have altered little since the days of Kublai Khan.
At a narrow turning in Shakwan we had to stop for a Chev. car containing Mr. Morch-Hansen of the Texas Oil Co. who is going to Burma to see conditions along the road.
5th February
Shakwan to Kunming 280 miles.
Left at 7 a.m. for Sluyming but got on so well that we decided to go right on to Yunnanfu. This was a mistake, as we got in after dark (7.30) and found all the hotels (English, French, Chinese) and even the hospital full up. We managed to get a room for ourselves with the South West Transportation Co. and very glad to get anything – by this time it was 10 p.m. We then looked for a place to eat and found a very third-rate place where I got a cup of coffee, having had nothing since a roadside picnic at 11.30 a.m.
The road was excellent in some parts and bad in others. Work going on everywhere. We climbed 3 ranges but not so bad as the Salween or Mekong divides. The gun was useless as we did not see anything to shoot on the roadside.
About 200 miles from Yunnanfu we saw the first signs of the Burma Railway. Embankments thrown up and 1 bridge, then we missed it for a hundred miles and came across it again about 30 miles from Yunnanfu – embankments and cuttings – evidently they are making small bits here & there and we saw several lorries marked in Chinese “China & Burma Construction Dept.” What strikes me is that they are building a useful bit of railway, even if Burma is a wash out. The railway will near Shakwan – and touch some towns and trade. This will cut out the employment of thousands of coolies, mules, donkeys etc. of which there is a constant stream.
The chief thing we noticed was huge blocks of salt. Evidently the salt is boiled from brine in huge pans and one coolie can carry half a pan load – one piece - or a donkey carries two quarter pieces. It is very unappetising looking salt, much stamped over with excise marks.
We were turned back twice by policemen because our car had not a Yunnan registration plate, so we have left it in the open near a Police Office and have taken to rickshaws.
Shakwan to Kunming 280 miles.
Left at 7 a.m. for Sluyming but got on so well that we decided to go right on to Yunnanfu. This was a mistake, as we got in after dark (7.30) and found all the hotels (English, French, Chinese) and even the hospital full up. We managed to get a room for ourselves with the South West Transportation Co. and very glad to get anything – by this time it was 10 p.m. We then looked for a place to eat and found a very third-rate place where I got a cup of coffee, having had nothing since a roadside picnic at 11.30 a.m.
The road was excellent in some parts and bad in others. Work going on everywhere. We climbed 3 ranges but not so bad as the Salween or Mekong divides. The gun was useless as we did not see anything to shoot on the roadside.
About 200 miles from Yunnanfu we saw the first signs of the Burma Railway. Embankments thrown up and 1 bridge, then we missed it for a hundred miles and came across it again about 30 miles from Yunnanfu – embankments and cuttings – evidently they are making small bits here & there and we saw several lorries marked in Chinese “China & Burma Construction Dept.” What strikes me is that they are building a useful bit of railway, even if Burma is a wash out. The railway will near Shakwan – and touch some towns and trade. This will cut out the employment of thousands of coolies, mules, donkeys etc. of which there is a constant stream.
The chief thing we noticed was huge blocks of salt. Evidently the salt is boiled from brine in huge pans and one coolie can carry half a pan load – one piece - or a donkey carries two quarter pieces. It is very unappetising looking salt, much stamped over with excise marks.
We were turned back twice by policemen because our car had not a Yunnan registration plate, so we have left it in the open near a Police Office and have taken to rickshaws.
6th February
Our first job this morning, after cleaning and putting on a decent suit, was to search for lodgings. We were lucky in getting two rooms just vacated at the Hotel Du Commerce at 15 per day each, so we went back to our room and brought our things.
The boys are meantime located in the car. They have plenty of money for food etc. but accommodation is difficult, and the hotel people do not want them here. Also, the car may be impounded if it is seen on the streets in daylight.
This is just a big village, quite unlike what I expected. There is electric light and W.Cs. which are a blessing. I had excellent coffee and ham & eggs for breakfast and feel like tackling the minister.
Called in on Mr. Miaow, Director of Commerce, Financial Expert and confidante of the Generalissimo. He thinks the road is bound to affect the Tengyueh trade and the only thing we can do is to offer attractive rates that will divert the traffic through Namkham to Bhamo. He is interested in ores (tin concentrates), Tung oil, tea and orpiment and will be glad if we will quote him rates Bhamo/Rangoon. He thinks that western Yunnan is going to develop. So far, it is the most backward province in China.
Saw Mr. T.L. Soong, Head of the Communications. He says we will get traffic (munitions) to Bhamo if we will get a decent road made to the highway. He knows the Namkham/Muse section will not stand up to heavy traffic. I offered to transport the munitions to Chefang and he thinks this proposition might be worked provided our lorry rate is low. He asked me to get in touch with Mr. C.M. Chen about this quotation. With regard to the railway, he assures me the line to Burma will be laid within 8 years and that the Lashio/Kunlong Ferry section will be built whether the Burma Government know about it at present or not. He says they have lots of material – rails etc. – at Hong Kong, Haiphong etc. and these are likely to be sent to Burma. This seems absurd as far as Haiphong is concerned, as the railway runs right to Yunnanfu. The railway has more than it can handle in the way of traffic and all sorts of things are coming through. Today I saw an aeroplane in parts on trucks just arriving. Aeroplanes are over Yunnanfu all the time.
I tried to book to Chungking but the ‘planes are booked a week ahead – I also tried to fly to Hanoi, but there is no seat available for a week.
I called on Mr. Wong of the Bank of China and asked him to dinner. He was very talkative and, like all the educated Chinese I have met, he was very abstemious.
He started the Bank of China here 3 months ago and is about to open a branch at Shakwan, Paoshan and another place I did not know. His idea is to give cheap credit to farmers, miners or anyone who will produce raw material. This raw material must be exported or converted into exportable goods so as to provide the wherewithal to fight the Japanese. The best brains of China are congregated in Yunnanfu (engineers, professors, commercial men, scientists) all imbued with the one idea – to get strong enough to push the Japanese out – and, if this takes time, to develop a nation in the Western Provinces which will carry on and become a power. Industrialism will go ahead. Machinery has been brought from the sacked eastern towns and factories are springing up. Here they have chemical works, salt works, a cotton factory and another cotton factory is being built.
Everywhere can be seen new buildings cheek by jowl with ancient structures. The new Yunnanfu is about a year old and is being superimposed on the old. There is still more mule traffic here than lorry traffic. Most of the streets are too narrow for lorries. Ancient crafts are carried on alongside ammunition clearing stations. Aeroplanes roar overhead but coolies are the chief transport.
All this confirms the opinion that the Western Provinces are being stimulated with brains and capital, but I gather little hope that Burma will share much in it, or rather that the I.F.Co. will benefit.
11 a.m. Called on H.B.M. Consul W.H.C Davidson who gave us a lot of information.
He confirms that the country is wealthy in minerals, tin and coal and that it will be developed rapidly. He thinks the highway an engineering feat, but that it will be subject to breaches in the rains, and that as a business proposition it is unlikely to pay when the munition traffic is over.
The railway will be built, but while T. Y. Boong says three years (and another year) it is likely to be completed within 5 years.
Met Murray of Imperial Airways surveying the lake for a service – asked him to tiffin tomorrow.
Called on the French Consul for a permit to visit French Indo China. Have applied for a seat in the fast train Michilene and a seat in Saturday’s plane from Hanoi.
H. B. M. Consul showed us the Treaty regarding the right of the Chinese to navigate vessels on the Irrawaddy with ores etc. destined for China or from China, subject to the same conditions and dues as British companies. I understand that Mr. Tseng, the Vice Minister, has agreed that the necessary facilities exist for all the business offering.
Called on Tengyueh traders Hone Sain Chan and Yon Chun Chan, silk shippers and orpiment shippers. Both were rather pessimistic about trade with Burma. Their chief complaint was the exchange and the high duties levied by the Chinese Government.
The orpiment mines have been confiscated by Mr. Miaow, who blames it on the Central Government, but the traders say he is doing it for his own ends.
Our first job this morning, after cleaning and putting on a decent suit, was to search for lodgings. We were lucky in getting two rooms just vacated at the Hotel Du Commerce at 15 per day each, so we went back to our room and brought our things.
The boys are meantime located in the car. They have plenty of money for food etc. but accommodation is difficult, and the hotel people do not want them here. Also, the car may be impounded if it is seen on the streets in daylight.
This is just a big village, quite unlike what I expected. There is electric light and W.Cs. which are a blessing. I had excellent coffee and ham & eggs for breakfast and feel like tackling the minister.
Called in on Mr. Miaow, Director of Commerce, Financial Expert and confidante of the Generalissimo. He thinks the road is bound to affect the Tengyueh trade and the only thing we can do is to offer attractive rates that will divert the traffic through Namkham to Bhamo. He is interested in ores (tin concentrates), Tung oil, tea and orpiment and will be glad if we will quote him rates Bhamo/Rangoon. He thinks that western Yunnan is going to develop. So far, it is the most backward province in China.
Saw Mr. T.L. Soong, Head of the Communications. He says we will get traffic (munitions) to Bhamo if we will get a decent road made to the highway. He knows the Namkham/Muse section will not stand up to heavy traffic. I offered to transport the munitions to Chefang and he thinks this proposition might be worked provided our lorry rate is low. He asked me to get in touch with Mr. C.M. Chen about this quotation. With regard to the railway, he assures me the line to Burma will be laid within 8 years and that the Lashio/Kunlong Ferry section will be built whether the Burma Government know about it at present or not. He says they have lots of material – rails etc. – at Hong Kong, Haiphong etc. and these are likely to be sent to Burma. This seems absurd as far as Haiphong is concerned, as the railway runs right to Yunnanfu. The railway has more than it can handle in the way of traffic and all sorts of things are coming through. Today I saw an aeroplane in parts on trucks just arriving. Aeroplanes are over Yunnanfu all the time.
I tried to book to Chungking but the ‘planes are booked a week ahead – I also tried to fly to Hanoi, but there is no seat available for a week.
I called on Mr. Wong of the Bank of China and asked him to dinner. He was very talkative and, like all the educated Chinese I have met, he was very abstemious.
He started the Bank of China here 3 months ago and is about to open a branch at Shakwan, Paoshan and another place I did not know. His idea is to give cheap credit to farmers, miners or anyone who will produce raw material. This raw material must be exported or converted into exportable goods so as to provide the wherewithal to fight the Japanese. The best brains of China are congregated in Yunnanfu (engineers, professors, commercial men, scientists) all imbued with the one idea – to get strong enough to push the Japanese out – and, if this takes time, to develop a nation in the Western Provinces which will carry on and become a power. Industrialism will go ahead. Machinery has been brought from the sacked eastern towns and factories are springing up. Here they have chemical works, salt works, a cotton factory and another cotton factory is being built.
Everywhere can be seen new buildings cheek by jowl with ancient structures. The new Yunnanfu is about a year old and is being superimposed on the old. There is still more mule traffic here than lorry traffic. Most of the streets are too narrow for lorries. Ancient crafts are carried on alongside ammunition clearing stations. Aeroplanes roar overhead but coolies are the chief transport.
All this confirms the opinion that the Western Provinces are being stimulated with brains and capital, but I gather little hope that Burma will share much in it, or rather that the I.F.Co. will benefit.
11 a.m. Called on H.B.M. Consul W.H.C Davidson who gave us a lot of information.
He confirms that the country is wealthy in minerals, tin and coal and that it will be developed rapidly. He thinks the highway an engineering feat, but that it will be subject to breaches in the rains, and that as a business proposition it is unlikely to pay when the munition traffic is over.
The railway will be built, but while T. Y. Boong says three years (and another year) it is likely to be completed within 5 years.
Met Murray of Imperial Airways surveying the lake for a service – asked him to tiffin tomorrow.
Called on the French Consul for a permit to visit French Indo China. Have applied for a seat in the fast train Michilene and a seat in Saturday’s plane from Hanoi.
H. B. M. Consul showed us the Treaty regarding the right of the Chinese to navigate vessels on the Irrawaddy with ores etc. destined for China or from China, subject to the same conditions and dues as British companies. I understand that Mr. Tseng, the Vice Minister, has agreed that the necessary facilities exist for all the business offering.
Called on Tengyueh traders Hone Sain Chan and Yon Chun Chan, silk shippers and orpiment shippers. Both were rather pessimistic about trade with Burma. Their chief complaint was the exchange and the high duties levied by the Chinese Government.
The orpiment mines have been confiscated by Mr. Miaow, who blames it on the Central Government, but the traders say he is doing it for his own ends.
8th February
Still no reply from Eurasia about a seat on Saturday from Hanoi to Kunming. The travel agency still unable to get me a seat in the Michilene tomorrow. Looks like I must go by slow train to Loikai.
Met Mr. Young of the Chartered Bank and bought his place in the Michilene to Haiphong on 9th.
Called on the Sawbwa of Mengshi and thanked him for allowing me to sleep in one of his houses on the way up.
Still no reply from Eurasia about a seat on Saturday from Hanoi to Kunming. The travel agency still unable to get me a seat in the Michilene tomorrow. Looks like I must go by slow train to Loikai.
Met Mr. Young of the Chartered Bank and bought his place in the Michilene to Haiphong on 9th.
Called on the Sawbwa of Mengshi and thanked him for allowing me to sleep in one of his houses on the way up.
9th February
Got a front seat in the Michilene. This is a coach seating 18 first class passengers and about 24 second class. It runs on the rails but has pneumatic rubber tyres. It has a petrol engine not unlike a bus engine and it does the journey down to Loikai in 12 hours against the train – 2 days.
Got a front seat in the Michilene. This is a coach seating 18 first class passengers and about 24 second class. It runs on the rails but has pneumatic rubber tyres. It has a petrol engine not unlike a bus engine and it does the journey down to Loikai in 12 hours against the train – 2 days.
A Michilene
At Loikai there is the French Customs inspection and a very thorough one, especially for the Chinese, whose pockets are felt and emptied if there is much in them. My cheroots were fortunately overlooked. The railway is an engineering feat. The line follows closely rivers for most of the way, at one watershed the height is 8,100 feet. At one stretch you look across a gorge to the railway track on the other side and I’m sure we must have gone through 100 tunnels in 10 miles. Some of the gradients are very steep and some of the descents are made in low gear. Hand brakes are applied suddenly for people on the line or buffaloes crossing. Some of the people pay no regard to whistles or horns and if a party of coolies split up, some wait on one side of the line or road and some on the other. It is certain that just when the train or your car is about to pass, there will be a sudden leap and the minority of the bunch of people rush across to join the majority. This is a most annoying thing to happen when climbing a hill in low gear as you have to stop dead to prevent an accident.
The railway to Hanoi is about 400 miles long and another 70 to Haiphong. It is a metre gauge, single line railway and the French should have had the line doubled on the easy stretches to save time. The capacity of the railway is 8000 tons per month and it is working to capacity. In Tonking the express runs at night but not in China. Bungalows are provided at the night stations for 1st Class passengers, but the lower classes just sleep in the train.
The trains are shut down for holidays. I have met men from all parts of China as this is the only way in. Hanoi is full of people who formerly went through Hong Kong, Shanghai and ports further north. I met the Commander of the “Falcon” which is in the upper Yangtsze and he was proceeding on leave via Chungking, Yunnanfu and Haiphong.
Mr. Finlay Andrew of Butterfield & Swire travelled with me. He was in Kwaiyan when it was bombed the other day and over 900 civilians were killed. The Chinese forced down one of the Jap planes which bombed Yunnanfu.
In the ordinary course of trade, the Hanoi Railway should be able to deal with all the traffic offering - both passengers and goods - but when the whole of Chinese China business has to go this way, it is not up to the work and there are long delays for cargo.
When the war is over, it will again be able to serve the province unless enormous industrial development takes place. Development is in the air. The cotton factory here has 10,000 spindles and another is being built for 25,000 spindles. A certain amount of cotton is grown in the neighbourhood, but raw cotton and yarn are also imported. The cultivation of silkworms is also being started by the Government and mulberry trees being planted.
The natural outlet of silk, Tung oil and other things which come chiefly from Szechuan, the rich neighbouring province, is down the Yangtsze river and I cannot imagine the Japs putting such restrictions on shipping as to force trade to go by other routes. There is a war on, and this does not apply at the moment, but the war will not last for ever and trade will then find its way by natural channels - which will not be via Yunnanfu and the railway, nor via the road and Lashio.
I went to Haiphong to have a look at the docks and saw much congestion. This is the small rains there and lots of cases were stored in the open in the wet. I saw thousands of tons of rails, some marked Hong Kong. I also saw some of Mr. Miaow`s tin ingots awaiting shipment. The quantity of cars, trucks, and lorries was amazing. The French put a restriction on the export of them to China, hence the accumulation. Then they permitted one car per hour to be exported and now they allow 30 per day across the border. As the rail cannot deal with the quantities waiting, the cars are assembled at Haiphong and motored along the road to Longson on the border. From there they find their way inland both to Yunnanfu and further north to Chungking etc. The question of petrol for the enormous number of cars must be a difficult one and the more cars there are, the more petrol will be required, adding still further to the congestion on the railway. All the petrol comes up in 40-gallon drums. There are no tank wagons and no petrol pumps.
Haiphong is a poor place, only important because of the war. I arrived at 9.30 a.m. and had seen all I wanted to see – including 2 sternwheelers for the river – by noon. I had 50 minutes to wait for the Autorail (another petrol car which runs on the ordinary rails) so had a coffee and sandwich and a haircut.
The Anamites are not unlike the Burmese, but they chew cutch and have black teeth in consequence.
Some of the ladies are very smart, good looking and good figures.
I managed to get into the Metropole at Hanoi for the night and wallowed in a hot bath. There was quite a party at dinner. All Andrew`s guests - 3 ladies and 4 men. Murray of Imperial Airways, Far Eastern Manager, was there. We had quite a good night.
The railway to Hanoi is about 400 miles long and another 70 to Haiphong. It is a metre gauge, single line railway and the French should have had the line doubled on the easy stretches to save time. The capacity of the railway is 8000 tons per month and it is working to capacity. In Tonking the express runs at night but not in China. Bungalows are provided at the night stations for 1st Class passengers, but the lower classes just sleep in the train.
The trains are shut down for holidays. I have met men from all parts of China as this is the only way in. Hanoi is full of people who formerly went through Hong Kong, Shanghai and ports further north. I met the Commander of the “Falcon” which is in the upper Yangtsze and he was proceeding on leave via Chungking, Yunnanfu and Haiphong.
Mr. Finlay Andrew of Butterfield & Swire travelled with me. He was in Kwaiyan when it was bombed the other day and over 900 civilians were killed. The Chinese forced down one of the Jap planes which bombed Yunnanfu.
In the ordinary course of trade, the Hanoi Railway should be able to deal with all the traffic offering - both passengers and goods - but when the whole of Chinese China business has to go this way, it is not up to the work and there are long delays for cargo.
When the war is over, it will again be able to serve the province unless enormous industrial development takes place. Development is in the air. The cotton factory here has 10,000 spindles and another is being built for 25,000 spindles. A certain amount of cotton is grown in the neighbourhood, but raw cotton and yarn are also imported. The cultivation of silkworms is also being started by the Government and mulberry trees being planted.
The natural outlet of silk, Tung oil and other things which come chiefly from Szechuan, the rich neighbouring province, is down the Yangtsze river and I cannot imagine the Japs putting such restrictions on shipping as to force trade to go by other routes. There is a war on, and this does not apply at the moment, but the war will not last for ever and trade will then find its way by natural channels - which will not be via Yunnanfu and the railway, nor via the road and Lashio.
I went to Haiphong to have a look at the docks and saw much congestion. This is the small rains there and lots of cases were stored in the open in the wet. I saw thousands of tons of rails, some marked Hong Kong. I also saw some of Mr. Miaow`s tin ingots awaiting shipment. The quantity of cars, trucks, and lorries was amazing. The French put a restriction on the export of them to China, hence the accumulation. Then they permitted one car per hour to be exported and now they allow 30 per day across the border. As the rail cannot deal with the quantities waiting, the cars are assembled at Haiphong and motored along the road to Longson on the border. From there they find their way inland both to Yunnanfu and further north to Chungking etc. The question of petrol for the enormous number of cars must be a difficult one and the more cars there are, the more petrol will be required, adding still further to the congestion on the railway. All the petrol comes up in 40-gallon drums. There are no tank wagons and no petrol pumps.
Haiphong is a poor place, only important because of the war. I arrived at 9.30 a.m. and had seen all I wanted to see – including 2 sternwheelers for the river – by noon. I had 50 minutes to wait for the Autorail (another petrol car which runs on the ordinary rails) so had a coffee and sandwich and a haircut.
The Anamites are not unlike the Burmese, but they chew cutch and have black teeth in consequence.
Some of the ladies are very smart, good looking and good figures.
I managed to get into the Metropole at Hanoi for the night and wallowed in a hot bath. There was quite a party at dinner. All Andrew`s guests - 3 ladies and 4 men. Murray of Imperial Airways, Far Eastern Manager, was there. We had quite a good night.
11th February
Rose late and was driven out to the aerodrome. Quite a nice place – Rangoon is a poor effort beside it. The Eurasia plane (3 Junker engines) had 13 of us, but we had a comfortable flight at about 13,000 feet for a bit, but there was a strong wind and he came down to avoid it and got into some bumps. The journey took about 3 hours. The train (Grand Vitesse) takes 3 days. Mr. Wong of the Bank of China was up meeting the Bank`s research officer and drove me to the hotel.
The visit to Haiphong was worthwhile and I know what we are up against now.
The aerodrome at Kunming is closely guarded and everything very secret. Before landing, the steward comes around and pulls down all the blinds so that passengers will not see the aerodrome or the machines on it.
Had an interesting talk with Williamson of B. & S. regarding trade in general. They still have boats plying in the Upper Yangtsze, but they cannot go down river as the Japs have closed it. The coastal trade is also very difficult as the Japanese have obstructive regulations. Japanese steamers are plying for passenger & goods traffic on the Yangtsze, although they are supposed to be carrying only war material.
Rose late and was driven out to the aerodrome. Quite a nice place – Rangoon is a poor effort beside it. The Eurasia plane (3 Junker engines) had 13 of us, but we had a comfortable flight at about 13,000 feet for a bit, but there was a strong wind and he came down to avoid it and got into some bumps. The journey took about 3 hours. The train (Grand Vitesse) takes 3 days. Mr. Wong of the Bank of China was up meeting the Bank`s research officer and drove me to the hotel.
The visit to Haiphong was worthwhile and I know what we are up against now.
The aerodrome at Kunming is closely guarded and everything very secret. Before landing, the steward comes around and pulls down all the blinds so that passengers will not see the aerodrome or the machines on it.
Had an interesting talk with Williamson of B. & S. regarding trade in general. They still have boats plying in the Upper Yangtsze, but they cannot go down river as the Japs have closed it. The coastal trade is also very difficult as the Japanese have obstructive regulations. Japanese steamers are plying for passenger & goods traffic on the Yangtsze, although they are supposed to be carrying only war material.
12th February
Left Kunming at 10 a.m. and quite glad to be on the way home.
The road is quite cut up – potholes over the first 30 miles where there is a considerable traffic in buses. There are good stretches and bad, and cars will not last long on the road.
We arrived at Tsuyaung about 4 p.m. and managed to buy 4 cans of petrol – said to be 5 gallon – but these are American gallons and the can goes into 2 two-gallon tins. Started making the tents and got a soldier to help sew them. Guards on all night with fixed bayonets – bed at 7 p.m. and it was pretty cold.
We saw 16 trucks arrive (South West Transportation Co`s depot), 8 from each way. Those from the capital carried a few drums of petrol but those coming from the direction of Burma were empty, and they told us they were merely trying out the road before carrying loads. It seems an expensive experiment, especially as several lorries (such as ours) have been over the road and reported on it.
Left Kunming at 10 a.m. and quite glad to be on the way home.
The road is quite cut up – potholes over the first 30 miles where there is a considerable traffic in buses. There are good stretches and bad, and cars will not last long on the road.
We arrived at Tsuyaung about 4 p.m. and managed to buy 4 cans of petrol – said to be 5 gallon – but these are American gallons and the can goes into 2 two-gallon tins. Started making the tents and got a soldier to help sew them. Guards on all night with fixed bayonets – bed at 7 p.m. and it was pretty cold.
We saw 16 trucks arrive (South West Transportation Co`s depot), 8 from each way. Those from the capital carried a few drums of petrol but those coming from the direction of Burma were empty, and they told us they were merely trying out the road before carrying loads. It seems an expensive experiment, especially as several lorries (such as ours) have been over the road and reported on it.
13th February (Monday)
Up at 5.30 a.m. Shaved & dressed by 6 a.m. Breakfasted and started before 7 a.m. A cold day, the ground white with frost. Saw a pheasant and was lucky enough to hit it. It flew across a river before falling and Mg Hlaing waded across for it. A fine cock with beautiful plumage.
The road was good for this stretch (to Shakwan) except for the many diversions where pucca bridges are being built to replace the wooden ones.
The hills near Talifoo are topped with snow (not white marble) and the wind is cold.
Arrived Shakwan 3 p.m. and finished work on the tents. Went through the bazaar and met two American missionaries from the Tibet border who were waiting for friends to arrive. They were putting up at the inn.
We were fortunate to have letters to the S.W.T.Co. establishments where we have always managed to get a room to ourselves, sometimes one for each.
These depots are mostly temples with large courtyards where the lorries can turn and lie for the night. We passed the aerodrome at Tsuyaung – empty but the `drome at Yunnanfu had about 100 planes on it. Many were taxying about, but none in the air. Lots of budding aviators being drilled.
Up at 5.30 a.m. Shaved & dressed by 6 a.m. Breakfasted and started before 7 a.m. A cold day, the ground white with frost. Saw a pheasant and was lucky enough to hit it. It flew across a river before falling and Mg Hlaing waded across for it. A fine cock with beautiful plumage.
The road was good for this stretch (to Shakwan) except for the many diversions where pucca bridges are being built to replace the wooden ones.
The hills near Talifoo are topped with snow (not white marble) and the wind is cold.
Arrived Shakwan 3 p.m. and finished work on the tents. Went through the bazaar and met two American missionaries from the Tibet border who were waiting for friends to arrive. They were putting up at the inn.
We were fortunate to have letters to the S.W.T.Co. establishments where we have always managed to get a room to ourselves, sometimes one for each.
These depots are mostly temples with large courtyards where the lorries can turn and lie for the night. We passed the aerodrome at Tsuyaung – empty but the `drome at Yunnanfu had about 100 planes on it. Many were taxying about, but none in the air. Lots of budding aviators being drilled.
14th February
Left Shakwan 7.45 a.m. and, to oblige the Station Officer, agreed to carry one of his men to Paoshan. I think he was a Jonah. He had tried to get to Paoshan several times, but always something happened, and last time the lorry capsized and he got a broken shoulder.
The car was going well till we ran into heavy rain, which made the road very slippy. Going up hill this was not so bad, but when we crossed the range leading down to the Mekong, it was not so easy and at one part with a very steep descent the driver tried to drop into low gear to brake the car. Unfortunately, something happened underneath - I think at the rear universal joint - and there was a groaning noise as if some teeth had been broken and were loose amongst the works. We stopped and tried to open out the coupling rod, but our tools could not turn one or two of the nuts and bolts. We decide to go on for a few miles in free wheel, relying on the brakes. The breakdown happened at noon in the rain, and we ultimately came to a broken-down Fargo bus and a road mender`s hut and decided to stop there for the night, it being now 5.30 p.m. and dark. Fortunately, the driver of the Fargo bus R.C.4887 had left his tools at the road mender`s hut and we were able to borrow them after an argument with the road mender. We must know what is broken before we can send anyone to Lashio or Rangoon for a spare part.
A cup of Horlicks and a tin of sardines for dinner, as the pheasant stew they are making will take too long and we are tired.
This spot between Yungpang and the Mekong is over 7,000 feet high and cold. There is snow on the hills around. Liu and I slept in the broken Fargo and Mg Hlaing in our car. The others got into the hut. It rained during the night and hailstones kept us awake at intervals.
Left Shakwan 7.45 a.m. and, to oblige the Station Officer, agreed to carry one of his men to Paoshan. I think he was a Jonah. He had tried to get to Paoshan several times, but always something happened, and last time the lorry capsized and he got a broken shoulder.
The car was going well till we ran into heavy rain, which made the road very slippy. Going up hill this was not so bad, but when we crossed the range leading down to the Mekong, it was not so easy and at one part with a very steep descent the driver tried to drop into low gear to brake the car. Unfortunately, something happened underneath - I think at the rear universal joint - and there was a groaning noise as if some teeth had been broken and were loose amongst the works. We stopped and tried to open out the coupling rod, but our tools could not turn one or two of the nuts and bolts. We decide to go on for a few miles in free wheel, relying on the brakes. The breakdown happened at noon in the rain, and we ultimately came to a broken-down Fargo bus and a road mender`s hut and decided to stop there for the night, it being now 5.30 p.m. and dark. Fortunately, the driver of the Fargo bus R.C.4887 had left his tools at the road mender`s hut and we were able to borrow them after an argument with the road mender. We must know what is broken before we can send anyone to Lashio or Rangoon for a spare part.
A cup of Horlicks and a tin of sardines for dinner, as the pheasant stew they are making will take too long and we are tired.
This spot between Yungpang and the Mekong is over 7,000 feet high and cold. There is snow on the hills around. Liu and I slept in the broken Fargo and Mg Hlaing in our car. The others got into the hut. It rained during the night and hailstones kept us awake at intervals.
15th February
Got up at 7.30 and wakened Mg Hlaing and set him to work to dismantle the coupling rod. This will take time, and this was the morning we should have been leaving Paoshan with the mules.
We are amongst the pines and - if it were sunny and if there was no trouble – I would be quite happy here for a few days. No car has passed since we had trouble. The road has gone soft with the rain and I don’t think will stand up to a wet season. The boys produced ham & eggs and we are not badly off - except that we can do nothing till we know what is wrong with the car. We are covered with oil and dirt, and some clothes ruined, but have not yet reached the trouble.
Coupling shaft taken out and both universal joints examined and found O.K. Cannot think of anything else, so decide to put back the works and try it.
By this time, it is noon and we have dinner – the best so far – good vegetable soup and chicken stew – hot and well made.
Off we go at 12.30 first very slowly and with the spark off down hill. It is practically down hill all the way to the Mekong. The road is very good, and we are allowed across the bridge without trouble and very little delay. Then the road runs down the river side for about 10 miles. If this drive were in England it would be the most popular. Then a climb up and over the steep range to the Paoshan valley. The engine is pulling well, and we have almost forgotten that it is a crock. Snow on the hills.
We arrive at Paoshan at 5.30 p.m. and are welcomed by Dr. Lin. We have an invitation to dinner by Mr. Wong, the ammunition expert. I contribute a bottle of whiskey, but there is beer from French China, and we are a happy party - except for one serious looking young man who sucks in all his food with a great noise.
Dr. Lin is full of the developments likely to take place in Yunnan in the next few years. Plantations of mulberry for sericulture, chemical works, cotton weaving etc. and he thinks the highway will cause an increase in population along it. He agrees that at present it is not a business proposition owing to the cost of lorries, spares, maintenance, overheads, gas & lube. oil - which work out at a dollar per kilometer or say about 8 annas per mile (6 kilometers to the American gallon).
Got up at 7.30 and wakened Mg Hlaing and set him to work to dismantle the coupling rod. This will take time, and this was the morning we should have been leaving Paoshan with the mules.
We are amongst the pines and - if it were sunny and if there was no trouble – I would be quite happy here for a few days. No car has passed since we had trouble. The road has gone soft with the rain and I don’t think will stand up to a wet season. The boys produced ham & eggs and we are not badly off - except that we can do nothing till we know what is wrong with the car. We are covered with oil and dirt, and some clothes ruined, but have not yet reached the trouble.
Coupling shaft taken out and both universal joints examined and found O.K. Cannot think of anything else, so decide to put back the works and try it.
By this time, it is noon and we have dinner – the best so far – good vegetable soup and chicken stew – hot and well made.
Off we go at 12.30 first very slowly and with the spark off down hill. It is practically down hill all the way to the Mekong. The road is very good, and we are allowed across the bridge without trouble and very little delay. Then the road runs down the river side for about 10 miles. If this drive were in England it would be the most popular. Then a climb up and over the steep range to the Paoshan valley. The engine is pulling well, and we have almost forgotten that it is a crock. Snow on the hills.
We arrive at Paoshan at 5.30 p.m. and are welcomed by Dr. Lin. We have an invitation to dinner by Mr. Wong, the ammunition expert. I contribute a bottle of whiskey, but there is beer from French China, and we are a happy party - except for one serious looking young man who sucks in all his food with a great noise.
Dr. Lin is full of the developments likely to take place in Yunnan in the next few years. Plantations of mulberry for sericulture, chemical works, cotton weaving etc. and he thinks the highway will cause an increase in population along it. He agrees that at present it is not a business proposition owing to the cost of lorries, spares, maintenance, overheads, gas & lube. oil - which work out at a dollar per kilometer or say about 8 annas per mile (6 kilometers to the American gallon).
16th February. (Thursday)
After bother and fash about animals, we at last fixed up with 4 farmers owning 8 animals between them. They did not want to leave home as New Year falls on 18th instant but the Magistrate ordered them to take us to Tengyueh.
No saddles available, no stirrup irons, so a blanket has to do for the saddle straps for a surcingle and bamboo stirrup irons. I prefer to walk, so after saying goodbye to the hospitable Lin, we start off at 10.45 on a 16-mile stage. This road is very steep and old and for many miles is laid with cobblestones. We have a break at 2.30 for half an hour and drink a cup of coffee, then on again till 6 p.m. when we reach the ancient village of Pupiaokai. We are heartily tired, footsore, and my knees feel weak, so we acceded to the muleteers request to sleep in the inn. The mules walk in the front door and through to the back and we find a clean room upstairs overlooking the main street. We are provided with a cup of tea, a basin of hot water and later, a rush light lamp of the Aladdin pattern, not nearly as good as our own lanterns, but just as smelly, all this for about three pence per head.
During the day we met with many caravans, thread from Tengyueh and silk and skins going there. In fact, considering no car passed us while on the road in 24 hours, this route might be called busy.
The first fright our mules got was when our car passed us with Mg Kan and two Chinese workers of the SWT Co. whom Dr. Lin asked us to send to Mongshi. I am only too willing to oblige as he has been very kind to us.
We have a longer march tomorrow, so we went to get to bed as soon as possible. Hla Pe is frying eggs, bacon & tomatoes for dinner and I wish he would hurry up. The eggs cost about 8 annas for 25 - small, but fresh. Liu’s feet are hurting so he has gone out to buy a pair of thin socks – his boots are tight evidently - I don’t know how I am going to get up in the morning. The scenery has been fine – mountains and hills and now this very fertile valley. The pines give place to evergreen, and then lower down, bare hills with coarse grass. The valleys are terraced and all irrigated. We wanted to camp in the woods and use our home-made tents but there are no woods for some miles. It is not so cold here and must only be about 4,000 feet high.
After bother and fash about animals, we at last fixed up with 4 farmers owning 8 animals between them. They did not want to leave home as New Year falls on 18th instant but the Magistrate ordered them to take us to Tengyueh.
No saddles available, no stirrup irons, so a blanket has to do for the saddle straps for a surcingle and bamboo stirrup irons. I prefer to walk, so after saying goodbye to the hospitable Lin, we start off at 10.45 on a 16-mile stage. This road is very steep and old and for many miles is laid with cobblestones. We have a break at 2.30 for half an hour and drink a cup of coffee, then on again till 6 p.m. when we reach the ancient village of Pupiaokai. We are heartily tired, footsore, and my knees feel weak, so we acceded to the muleteers request to sleep in the inn. The mules walk in the front door and through to the back and we find a clean room upstairs overlooking the main street. We are provided with a cup of tea, a basin of hot water and later, a rush light lamp of the Aladdin pattern, not nearly as good as our own lanterns, but just as smelly, all this for about three pence per head.
During the day we met with many caravans, thread from Tengyueh and silk and skins going there. In fact, considering no car passed us while on the road in 24 hours, this route might be called busy.
The first fright our mules got was when our car passed us with Mg Kan and two Chinese workers of the SWT Co. whom Dr. Lin asked us to send to Mongshi. I am only too willing to oblige as he has been very kind to us.
We have a longer march tomorrow, so we went to get to bed as soon as possible. Hla Pe is frying eggs, bacon & tomatoes for dinner and I wish he would hurry up. The eggs cost about 8 annas for 25 - small, but fresh. Liu’s feet are hurting so he has gone out to buy a pair of thin socks – his boots are tight evidently - I don’t know how I am going to get up in the morning. The scenery has been fine – mountains and hills and now this very fertile valley. The pines give place to evergreen, and then lower down, bare hills with coarse grass. The valleys are terraced and all irrigated. We wanted to camp in the woods and use our home-made tents but there are no woods for some miles. It is not so cold here and must only be about 4,000 feet high.
17th February
Chinese New Year’s Eve. Went to bed at 7 p.m. but there were two weans howling and, tired as I was, I couldn’t get to sleep. There was a Hnyaw – the smell of frying which in Burmese is very bad for the health. The fumes of Chinese tobacco came up through the floor. The hostess was quarrelling with her husband for hours – leastwise I suspect he was her husband as he never said a word. Then I had to get up twice in the night sick. Altogether, the Chinese New Year’s Eve has found me far below par and our longest march, 90 li, tomorrow. I don’t know how far this is, but we marched 6 hours without a halt, then halted for ¾ hour at the Salweeen bridge – then on up hill – very, very steep for another 5 hours. Liu was pushing my back at places and was a help. It was too steep to ride. Tomorrow we do 80 Li and I am having Horlicks for dinner and hope my tummy will be better. It is bad enough to march about 18/19 miles up hill and down dale if one is fit – but if one is feeling below par, it is just too bad. Our muleteers, 4 of them, have no bedding, no pots with them, so have to sleep in an inn. I was mighty glad to see this one and to get my feet into hot water. The most disappointing thing about this route is that if you want to see the scenery you have to stop and look. You may not take your eyes off the path while walking. It is either cobble stone with the emphasis on the cobble or it is made alongside a precipice. We saw fewer caravans today and the road was not so busy. It is a hard road at the best of times and our mules are farm mules, not transport, hence we go slower. They are all galled, and the men do nothing for them. Considering there are 4 men and 8 animals, they should get the best attention. I have my camp cot set up on top of a verminous bed and hope things will be O.K. I am too tired to worry. The white ponies are better looked after than the mules, and they do much less work. It was cloudy when we crossed the Salween and I doubt if my photos will come out. In any case I was too ill to bother about cameras. This route is for fit men only and I hope to be well tomorrow. I am going to bed now at 6.30 p.m. High life in the East. It is high in one respect, as we must be up at 7,000 feet.
Chinese New Year’s Eve. Went to bed at 7 p.m. but there were two weans howling and, tired as I was, I couldn’t get to sleep. There was a Hnyaw – the smell of frying which in Burmese is very bad for the health. The fumes of Chinese tobacco came up through the floor. The hostess was quarrelling with her husband for hours – leastwise I suspect he was her husband as he never said a word. Then I had to get up twice in the night sick. Altogether, the Chinese New Year’s Eve has found me far below par and our longest march, 90 li, tomorrow. I don’t know how far this is, but we marched 6 hours without a halt, then halted for ¾ hour at the Salweeen bridge – then on up hill – very, very steep for another 5 hours. Liu was pushing my back at places and was a help. It was too steep to ride. Tomorrow we do 80 Li and I am having Horlicks for dinner and hope my tummy will be better. It is bad enough to march about 18/19 miles up hill and down dale if one is fit – but if one is feeling below par, it is just too bad. Our muleteers, 4 of them, have no bedding, no pots with them, so have to sleep in an inn. I was mighty glad to see this one and to get my feet into hot water. The most disappointing thing about this route is that if you want to see the scenery you have to stop and look. You may not take your eyes off the path while walking. It is either cobble stone with the emphasis on the cobble or it is made alongside a precipice. We saw fewer caravans today and the road was not so busy. It is a hard road at the best of times and our mules are farm mules, not transport, hence we go slower. They are all galled, and the men do nothing for them. Considering there are 4 men and 8 animals, they should get the best attention. I have my camp cot set up on top of a verminous bed and hope things will be O.K. I am too tired to worry. The white ponies are better looked after than the mules, and they do much less work. It was cloudy when we crossed the Salween and I doubt if my photos will come out. In any case I was too ill to bother about cameras. This route is for fit men only and I hope to be well tomorrow. I am going to bed now at 6.30 p.m. High life in the East. It is high in one respect, as we must be up at 7,000 feet.
18th February
A stormy night, rain and thunder, and when we got up in the morning our muleteers said it was dangerous to go on. There is no use in arguing, so we had breakfast and when a patch of blue appeared in the sky, we told them to saddle up. The road from this inn (Laochoi) is terribly steep – back and forwards across the face of the hill - and both Liu and myself felt sick. There was a thick mist and we could not see much. It was cold and wet and, what with sweat and rain, we were very miserable. Too steep to ride. We crossed the divide and started to descend to the Shweli valley. Here we had wind, rain and hailstones but blinks of sunshine, and as it was mostly down hill, we made progress till 1 p.m. Then we stopped at a house to rest the mules and let the men feed. The flies were in clouds and settled on everything and the place was disgusting. I walked on and sat down on the roadside and changed my stockings from one foot to the other. At 5 p.m. we arrived at Kallanchue and turned into the inn. The room offered us looked so grim that we decided to sleep under a shed near the mules. As this is New Year’s Day, no other traffic on the road. We crossed the Shweli by a fine suspension bridge, a steep descent to it and a steep climb after crossing. We have only one range to cross tomorrow and then Tengyueh. I have sent a note to Mr. Stockley, the Consul, asking for a hot bath. I hope he can provide one. Have had nothing to eat but tea and a biscuit today, so have ordered a rice pudding for dinner. The lap of luxury. It is pouring with rain and blowing into the shed, but not bad enough to force us into the inn sleeping place. As an illustration of the backwardness of Yunnan, we see quite young girls with bound feet.
A stormy night, rain and thunder, and when we got up in the morning our muleteers said it was dangerous to go on. There is no use in arguing, so we had breakfast and when a patch of blue appeared in the sky, we told them to saddle up. The road from this inn (Laochoi) is terribly steep – back and forwards across the face of the hill - and both Liu and myself felt sick. There was a thick mist and we could not see much. It was cold and wet and, what with sweat and rain, we were very miserable. Too steep to ride. We crossed the divide and started to descend to the Shweli valley. Here we had wind, rain and hailstones but blinks of sunshine, and as it was mostly down hill, we made progress till 1 p.m. Then we stopped at a house to rest the mules and let the men feed. The flies were in clouds and settled on everything and the place was disgusting. I walked on and sat down on the roadside and changed my stockings from one foot to the other. At 5 p.m. we arrived at Kallanchue and turned into the inn. The room offered us looked so grim that we decided to sleep under a shed near the mules. As this is New Year’s Day, no other traffic on the road. We crossed the Shweli by a fine suspension bridge, a steep descent to it and a steep climb after crossing. We have only one range to cross tomorrow and then Tengyueh. I have sent a note to Mr. Stockley, the Consul, asking for a hot bath. I hope he can provide one. Have had nothing to eat but tea and a biscuit today, so have ordered a rice pudding for dinner. The lap of luxury. It is pouring with rain and blowing into the shed, but not bad enough to force us into the inn sleeping place. As an illustration of the backwardness of Yunnan, we see quite young girls with bound feet.
19th February
Left our stable before 8 a.m. and proceeded up hill. The hills here are uninteresting, not much showing in the way of wildflowers and nothing in the way of animals or birds and, strangely enough, insects. I haven’t seen a crawling thing, nor a frog, for many days. The streams seem bare of fish also. The road, mostly paved with rocks, goes up and down and we are glad to rest for a cup of coffee at noon. Then up again and over another shoulder of hill about 7000/8000 feet and then we see the valley of Tengyueh. All terraced, well watered and all ploughed for paddy. It is not as big as Paoshan, about 2 miles across. These are the first 2 miles of flat we have seen since Paoshan and, strangely enough, we find them tiring. Our messenger is waiting with a note from Mrs. Stockley assuring us of the bath and a night’s hospitality. We arrive, and after a much-appreciated whisky and soda, enjoy a hot bath. We have tea with homemade bread & jam and a cake, all just fine. The party consists of Mrs. Stockley, Miss Ness (the Governess), Rosemary & Priscilla, Olsen of the Customs Service, Liu & myself and we do not leave much on the table. Then there are Rangoon papers - only 9 days old - and I am most interested in the budget session, strikes, and the trouble in Burma generally. Things seem to have become worse since I left.
We paid off our muleteers and, instead of the 80 which they were hired for and of which 40 had been paid on the way, we gave them an extra 35 which was all I had of that currency. This means that we had 8 mules and 4 men for 4 days for Rs.25/- which I consider very cheap.
Here New Year starts a day late and the town is idle except for groups of gamblers. We are told we can’t get mules under 5 days. This is bad news, but we might get coolies and go just as fast.
Mrs. Stockley and Olsen are busy with a jigsaw puzzle, so I get reading the papers. Dinner is about 8.30 and delightfully plain - soup, roast mutton and apple dumplings – fine – two helpings.
Left our stable before 8 a.m. and proceeded up hill. The hills here are uninteresting, not much showing in the way of wildflowers and nothing in the way of animals or birds and, strangely enough, insects. I haven’t seen a crawling thing, nor a frog, for many days. The streams seem bare of fish also. The road, mostly paved with rocks, goes up and down and we are glad to rest for a cup of coffee at noon. Then up again and over another shoulder of hill about 7000/8000 feet and then we see the valley of Tengyueh. All terraced, well watered and all ploughed for paddy. It is not as big as Paoshan, about 2 miles across. These are the first 2 miles of flat we have seen since Paoshan and, strangely enough, we find them tiring. Our messenger is waiting with a note from Mrs. Stockley assuring us of the bath and a night’s hospitality. We arrive, and after a much-appreciated whisky and soda, enjoy a hot bath. We have tea with homemade bread & jam and a cake, all just fine. The party consists of Mrs. Stockley, Miss Ness (the Governess), Rosemary & Priscilla, Olsen of the Customs Service, Liu & myself and we do not leave much on the table. Then there are Rangoon papers - only 9 days old - and I am most interested in the budget session, strikes, and the trouble in Burma generally. Things seem to have become worse since I left.
We paid off our muleteers and, instead of the 80 which they were hired for and of which 40 had been paid on the way, we gave them an extra 35 which was all I had of that currency. This means that we had 8 mules and 4 men for 4 days for Rs.25/- which I consider very cheap.
Here New Year starts a day late and the town is idle except for groups of gamblers. We are told we can’t get mules under 5 days. This is bad news, but we might get coolies and go just as fast.
Mrs. Stockley and Olsen are busy with a jigsaw puzzle, so I get reading the papers. Dinner is about 8.30 and delightfully plain - soup, roast mutton and apple dumplings – fine – two helpings.
20th February
Stayed at Tengyueh. Called on Mr. Storrs, the Commissioner for Customs, who gave us all the information he had regarding trade. Tengyueh produces enough rice to live on. It makes straw hats & felt hats, and a few are sent down to Bhamo. Otherwise it is an entrepot where merchants have their headquarters and where customs duty is paid. The chief trade is in cotton & twist from Bhamo and raw silk to Bhamo. All these things pass through Tengyueh and don’t stay there. The cotton & twist go to Shakwan and the silk comes from Szechuan Province through Shakwan. The cost of a mule from Bhamo to Shakwan is Rs.9/4 per mile and 13 mules carry a ton of cargo 489 miles. There is a certain amount of trade via Myitkyina, but it does not amount to much. Storrs sees no prospect of Tengyueh growing in importance and thinks the new road will short circuit it. I personally see no reason why trade should come this way – except that it has always done so – before the road was built.
I called on some merchants and the Chairman of the Chamber of Commerce. They think Tengyueh will still be the trading centre but give no good reason why it should be.
They are confident that when the road is built between Bhamo and Tengyueh traffic will increase. They are agitating for a road Tengyueh to Paoshan. I see no use for this very difficult undertaking and am quite sure it will not be done. The most likely road is one due south to join the highway at Lungling and this would be bad for our business.
I called on the Magistrate and he told me the road to Bhamo will be built quite soon (inside 5 years) and that trade is sure to follow the road. There is no likelihood of a road being built north of Tengyueh as the country is too difficult and the road wouldn’t tap any source of trade. I asked the merchants if there was anything I could do to stimulate trade and they suggested lower rates of freight. I pointed out that the steamer freight was just a drop in the bucket compared with the mule freight. Still, I’ll look into our rates.
Dined with Olsen and had a late night.
No mules available – fix up for 8 coolies.
The trouble in these valleys is that the land produces sufficient for the needs of the people - who are lazy - and there is nothing left to export. A waterfall of 70 feet fit to drive any machinery is not used.
Stayed at Tengyueh. Called on Mr. Storrs, the Commissioner for Customs, who gave us all the information he had regarding trade. Tengyueh produces enough rice to live on. It makes straw hats & felt hats, and a few are sent down to Bhamo. Otherwise it is an entrepot where merchants have their headquarters and where customs duty is paid. The chief trade is in cotton & twist from Bhamo and raw silk to Bhamo. All these things pass through Tengyueh and don’t stay there. The cotton & twist go to Shakwan and the silk comes from Szechuan Province through Shakwan. The cost of a mule from Bhamo to Shakwan is Rs.9/4 per mile and 13 mules carry a ton of cargo 489 miles. There is a certain amount of trade via Myitkyina, but it does not amount to much. Storrs sees no prospect of Tengyueh growing in importance and thinks the new road will short circuit it. I personally see no reason why trade should come this way – except that it has always done so – before the road was built.
I called on some merchants and the Chairman of the Chamber of Commerce. They think Tengyueh will still be the trading centre but give no good reason why it should be.
They are confident that when the road is built between Bhamo and Tengyueh traffic will increase. They are agitating for a road Tengyueh to Paoshan. I see no use for this very difficult undertaking and am quite sure it will not be done. The most likely road is one due south to join the highway at Lungling and this would be bad for our business.
I called on the Magistrate and he told me the road to Bhamo will be built quite soon (inside 5 years) and that trade is sure to follow the road. There is no likelihood of a road being built north of Tengyueh as the country is too difficult and the road wouldn’t tap any source of trade. I asked the merchants if there was anything I could do to stimulate trade and they suggested lower rates of freight. I pointed out that the steamer freight was just a drop in the bucket compared with the mule freight. Still, I’ll look into our rates.
Dined with Olsen and had a late night.
No mules available – fix up for 8 coolies.
The trouble in these valleys is that the land produces sufficient for the needs of the people - who are lazy - and there is nothing left to export. A waterfall of 70 feet fit to drive any machinery is not used.
21st February
Coolies arrived after 9 a.m. (they were to be there at 6 a.m.) and we got off at 10 a.m. After what we have been on, the road is easy except that again it is cobbled and awfully tiring to walk on and requiring all one’s attention to avoid going over on an ankle. We only did 16 miles but were tired when we reached Nansungkuan at 4.30 p.m. There is no suitable camping place, so we put up at the inn. Our baggage is in a bedroom, but we are sleeping outside under the overhanging roof. I hope it does not rain tonight.
Coolies arrived after 9 a.m. (they were to be there at 6 a.m.) and we got off at 10 a.m. After what we have been on, the road is easy except that again it is cobbled and awfully tiring to walk on and requiring all one’s attention to avoid going over on an ankle. We only did 16 miles but were tired when we reached Nansungkuan at 4.30 p.m. There is no suitable camping place, so we put up at the inn. Our baggage is in a bedroom, but we are sleeping outside under the overhanging roof. I hope it does not rain tonight.
22nd February
After wakening the coolies, we got off about 7.30 a.m. on our next stage. We got ahead of our men, and unfortunately, took a wrong turning which took us the best part of an hour to rectify. For the most part, the road was easy but where some parts have been washed by the river (Nam Ty) the temporary road makes a steep climb up the hill and down again. Must be very difficult for the animals. There is no inn at the village we land at, but we have a fine camping site on an island and our tents are going to be used for the first time. It is much more like the thing than some of the places we have slept in. We are dead tired – 18 miles I think, and tomorrow is the longest march.
After wakening the coolies, we got off about 7.30 a.m. on our next stage. We got ahead of our men, and unfortunately, took a wrong turning which took us the best part of an hour to rectify. For the most part, the road was easy but where some parts have been washed by the river (Nam Ty) the temporary road makes a steep climb up the hill and down again. Must be very difficult for the animals. There is no inn at the village we land at, but we have a fine camping site on an island and our tents are going to be used for the first time. It is much more like the thing than some of the places we have slept in. We are dead tired – 18 miles I think, and tomorrow is the longest march.
23rd February
We struck camp early and were packed & away about 7.30 a.m. The road is very flat – easy for mules. At 10 a.m. we come to a village and buy a juicy papaya, then on again with short halts. We walk for 8 hours and I’m sure cover 22 miles to Siosinkal, (little Bhamo), where there is a Chinese telegraph office which we use to thank Mrs. Stockley for the bread she made and gave us. We put up at an inn, placing our cots on top of the usual beds. The scenery has been splendid, and this valley must be noted for its bamboo which grow in great beautiful clumps. The river is very wide where it joins the Taping, and from now on we follow the Taping. This is in the Chinese Shan States and Shan is spoken and none of us is much good at obtaining information.
We struck camp early and were packed & away about 7.30 a.m. The road is very flat – easy for mules. At 10 a.m. we come to a village and buy a juicy papaya, then on again with short halts. We walk for 8 hours and I’m sure cover 22 miles to Siosinkal, (little Bhamo), where there is a Chinese telegraph office which we use to thank Mrs. Stockley for the bread she made and gave us. We put up at an inn, placing our cots on top of the usual beds. The scenery has been splendid, and this valley must be noted for its bamboo which grow in great beautiful clumps. The river is very wide where it joins the Taping, and from now on we follow the Taping. This is in the Chinese Shan States and Shan is spoken and none of us is much good at obtaining information.
24th February
Started at 8 a.m. and halted after an hour at Lungchangkai - here we saw our first milestone, 76 miles to Bhamo. By 3 p.m. we had reduced this to 63, doing 17 miles a day. The road was easy, mostly over a valley infested by cranes, which never let us get within gunshot. Only passed 3 or 4 caravans - cotton & twist. Have camped beside a stream and will turn in early. Walking is fine in small doses, but when one has to do a certain distance every day, it gets wearing and feet get progressively tired. I am quite looking forward to seeing the car I was so glad to leave 9 days ago. Every village here has its market garden and really fine vegetables are grown - leeks, lettuce, cauliflowers, cabbage and several greens. It is very difficult to get the cook to buy them. He can only think of stewed duck and chicken now that we have barred pork. Pork is the chief meat here. Pigs seen everywhere in the fields and roads, all sizes and they come to the call at food time. They are all black. We are walking parallel with the Taping but only glimpse it occasionally.
The Chinese Customs Officer has just been to say there was a robbery (with a gun) a few miles further on three nights ago. He hopes we will get through safely. So do I.
Started at 8 a.m. and halted after an hour at Lungchangkai - here we saw our first milestone, 76 miles to Bhamo. By 3 p.m. we had reduced this to 63, doing 17 miles a day. The road was easy, mostly over a valley infested by cranes, which never let us get within gunshot. Only passed 3 or 4 caravans - cotton & twist. Have camped beside a stream and will turn in early. Walking is fine in small doses, but when one has to do a certain distance every day, it gets wearing and feet get progressively tired. I am quite looking forward to seeing the car I was so glad to leave 9 days ago. Every village here has its market garden and really fine vegetables are grown - leeks, lettuce, cauliflowers, cabbage and several greens. It is very difficult to get the cook to buy them. He can only think of stewed duck and chicken now that we have barred pork. Pork is the chief meat here. Pigs seen everywhere in the fields and roads, all sizes and they come to the call at food time. They are all black. We are walking parallel with the Taping but only glimpse it occasionally.
The Chinese Customs Officer has just been to say there was a robbery (with a gun) a few miles further on three nights ago. He hopes we will get through safely. So do I.
25th February
Got off just before 8 a.m. and marched 11 miles before the midday halt. Then a cup of coffee ex the thermos, some biscuits & cheese and on another 6 miles to Pakiaschai in Burma. Union Jack flying over a frontier outpost of Sikhs. Very pleased to see them and they us. They brought us some milk and vegetables and a fresh lettuce. Very nice.
After bath inspected the outpost and found everything shipshape. This bungalow is a treat and, although on the frontier, is like getting back to civilization. I tried to get Bhamo on the telephone but the man at the other end seemed not interested, so I left word with the Jamadar to find out if my car will be at Kalykyet tomorrow as per arrangement. I don’t want to have to walk further than the 16 miles. My feet are sore now before I start in the mornings. It’s a young man’s job this. The road today was 17 miles through the Taping Gorge or where the river cuts through the range of hills. If anyone thinks the Taping is navigable, he has only to listen to the roaring it makes and does not need to see the series of small falls that take it down about a thousand feet in a few miles.
Got off just before 8 a.m. and marched 11 miles before the midday halt. Then a cup of coffee ex the thermos, some biscuits & cheese and on another 6 miles to Pakiaschai in Burma. Union Jack flying over a frontier outpost of Sikhs. Very pleased to see them and they us. They brought us some milk and vegetables and a fresh lettuce. Very nice.
After bath inspected the outpost and found everything shipshape. This bungalow is a treat and, although on the frontier, is like getting back to civilization. I tried to get Bhamo on the telephone but the man at the other end seemed not interested, so I left word with the Jamadar to find out if my car will be at Kalykyet tomorrow as per arrangement. I don’t want to have to walk further than the 16 miles. My feet are sore now before I start in the mornings. It’s a young man’s job this. The road today was 17 miles through the Taping Gorge or where the river cuts through the range of hills. If anyone thinks the Taping is navigable, he has only to listen to the roaring it makes and does not need to see the series of small falls that take it down about a thousand feet in a few miles.
26th February
Another early start. No word from Bhamo. The road is an easy one, in fact the whole road from Bhamo to Tengyueh is easy for mules. We have the milestones to keep us right as to distance and we walk 16 miles to Kalekyet. My feet were tired before we started, and I was glad to see the car. I bet Liu that the car would be facing the wrong way – not ready to start for Bhamo without turning – and I won my bet (1/- he owes me). The driver had been there an hour and a half and never thought of turning the car. One of the reasons why we foreigners come to Burma. We arrived in Bhamo about 3 p.m., had a hot bath and some tea.
Then down to the steamers to see the ghats, then round the 4 principal shippers with connections at Tengyueh. They have appealed to the Chinese government for a railway to Bhamo. A waste of time. They think the traffic they now hold will continue to come via Bhamo in spite of the highway. They give no reason, except the merchants are at Tengyueh and that the trade has always come this way. I find it difficult to get the exact cost of mule transport but Mangal Chand gave me definite figures in rupees which are . . .
Bhamo – Tengyueh, Rs. 3.4.0 per mule
Tengyueh – Paoshan, Rs. 2.0.0 “ “
Paoshan – Shakwan-Tali, Rs. 4.0.0 “ “
Rs. 9.4.0
13 mules to the ton Rs. 120.4.0 per mule
By road 489 miles Rs. 0.4.0 per ton per mile
This is too cheap for the quality of the road, except if the munition wagons want return loads, then any freight is better than none.
Dined with the Central Aircraft people on the “Kobe”. They were awaiting the arrival of the “Sinkan”. Their transport arrangements have not been good, and Bain has let them down over the coolies. Their Chinese drivers have been most difficult, only wanting to work when it suited them, so they were packed off and the Americans were each driving a truck. Their first aeroplane was assembled in three days and was away on the 5th. Smart work.
Another early start. No word from Bhamo. The road is an easy one, in fact the whole road from Bhamo to Tengyueh is easy for mules. We have the milestones to keep us right as to distance and we walk 16 miles to Kalekyet. My feet were tired before we started, and I was glad to see the car. I bet Liu that the car would be facing the wrong way – not ready to start for Bhamo without turning – and I won my bet (1/- he owes me). The driver had been there an hour and a half and never thought of turning the car. One of the reasons why we foreigners come to Burma. We arrived in Bhamo about 3 p.m., had a hot bath and some tea.
Then down to the steamers to see the ghats, then round the 4 principal shippers with connections at Tengyueh. They have appealed to the Chinese government for a railway to Bhamo. A waste of time. They think the traffic they now hold will continue to come via Bhamo in spite of the highway. They give no reason, except the merchants are at Tengyueh and that the trade has always come this way. I find it difficult to get the exact cost of mule transport but Mangal Chand gave me definite figures in rupees which are . . .
Bhamo – Tengyueh, Rs. 3.4.0 per mule
Tengyueh – Paoshan, Rs. 2.0.0 “ “
Paoshan – Shakwan-Tali, Rs. 4.0.0 “ “
Rs. 9.4.0
13 mules to the ton Rs. 120.4.0 per mule
By road 489 miles Rs. 0.4.0 per ton per mile
This is too cheap for the quality of the road, except if the munition wagons want return loads, then any freight is better than none.
Dined with the Central Aircraft people on the “Kobe”. They were awaiting the arrival of the “Sinkan”. Their transport arrangements have not been good, and Bain has let them down over the coolies. Their Chinese drivers have been most difficult, only wanting to work when it suited them, so they were packed off and the Americans were each driving a truck. Their first aeroplane was assembled in three days and was away on the 5th. Smart work.
27th February
Another early start – bought 10 tins of petrol for Rs.36/- the price has been reduced by Rs.2, the amount of the freight reduction. Our first stop is at the aerodrome at Pangkham, where we saw a ‘plane take off for Kunming with Mr. Pawley on board. He had arrived 2 hours earlier and the journey took under 2 hours – considering I have been 10 days doing the same journey, it sounds ridiculous. Great strides have been made with the place and it is obviously the intention to make a big thing of it. Large quarters for workmen – factory sheds etc., power plant and, of course, the level landing ground. It is not large enough for an Atalante, but these fighting machines simply jump off the ground. The one arriving today will climb about 1000 feet in under a minute.
The road is a hill one – all turns and twists, but I think it will stand up to traffic during the rains. We were invited to lunch with Mr. Stoker but grudged the time, so pushed off to Namkham where we ate sandwiches and drank coffee instead. From the Shweli bridge the road is bad and between Namkham and Muse it is very bad and no use for traffic. Much has been done on the new road, but it has been left incomplete and only a few men are working on it. An alternative will have to be found, so I am going to Chefang to see what the river is like. I feel that we could use the Bhamo/Namkham section all through the year – if we kept it up at very small cost – i.e. filling up holes as they are made. The Central Aircraft Co. have arranged to drop gravel at places where it is found to be needed. The road from the frontier to Chefang is very bad, and our undercarriage where the spare wheel is carried was touching the road often. We arrived at Chefang at 6 p.m. and found lots of lorries. I am surprised to see lots of T.N.T. boxes under Chinese guards. The arrangement is that Burmese lorries bring the munitions to Chefang and the Transport Co. take on from there. The Burmese lorries have not permission to use the road in the daytime, so all work is done at night. Not a nice job on a difficult road.
The Sawbwa was full up with official guests, so we put up for the night at the school. Our cots are on the verandah. Am writing this at a child’s desk with a dozen Chinese children looking on and trying to read what I am writing. I cannot speak to them as they don’t know Burmese or English. Liu and Mg Hlaing have gone to try to find a boat or a raft to take us down river.
Another early start – bought 10 tins of petrol for Rs.36/- the price has been reduced by Rs.2, the amount of the freight reduction. Our first stop is at the aerodrome at Pangkham, where we saw a ‘plane take off for Kunming with Mr. Pawley on board. He had arrived 2 hours earlier and the journey took under 2 hours – considering I have been 10 days doing the same journey, it sounds ridiculous. Great strides have been made with the place and it is obviously the intention to make a big thing of it. Large quarters for workmen – factory sheds etc., power plant and, of course, the level landing ground. It is not large enough for an Atalante, but these fighting machines simply jump off the ground. The one arriving today will climb about 1000 feet in under a minute.
The road is a hill one – all turns and twists, but I think it will stand up to traffic during the rains. We were invited to lunch with Mr. Stoker but grudged the time, so pushed off to Namkham where we ate sandwiches and drank coffee instead. From the Shweli bridge the road is bad and between Namkham and Muse it is very bad and no use for traffic. Much has been done on the new road, but it has been left incomplete and only a few men are working on it. An alternative will have to be found, so I am going to Chefang to see what the river is like. I feel that we could use the Bhamo/Namkham section all through the year – if we kept it up at very small cost – i.e. filling up holes as they are made. The Central Aircraft Co. have arranged to drop gravel at places where it is found to be needed. The road from the frontier to Chefang is very bad, and our undercarriage where the spare wheel is carried was touching the road often. We arrived at Chefang at 6 p.m. and found lots of lorries. I am surprised to see lots of T.N.T. boxes under Chinese guards. The arrangement is that Burmese lorries bring the munitions to Chefang and the Transport Co. take on from there. The Burmese lorries have not permission to use the road in the daytime, so all work is done at night. Not a nice job on a difficult road.
The Sawbwa was full up with official guests, so we put up for the night at the school. Our cots are on the verandah. Am writing this at a child’s desk with a dozen Chinese children looking on and trying to read what I am writing. I cannot speak to them as they don’t know Burmese or English. Liu and Mg Hlaing have gone to try to find a boat or a raft to take us down river.
28th February
After a lot of bother we secured a raft of 8 bamboos 3’ wide by about 40’ long and set out down the Nam Kwang. Two Shans are poling and we assist. We cannot speak to the Shans. This is the way to travel – no noise, no dust. I sing till my voice gives out but still keep an eye on the depth of the water. I consider 18” is all that can be obtained, and this is not the lowest month. About 15” next month. We sail about 20 miles in 6 ½ hours until we join the Shweli River. Then we take to the car, a back spring is broken but we insert the blade of a dah to take the place of one of the spring leaves and it holds out pretty well. We make for Hose and are stopped once by Chinese and twice by Burma Inspection Posts.
At Hose Bungalow, fortunately Mr. Eccles the Executive Engineer is stopping, so we talk about roads. The new section Shweli bridge to Hose will not be open for traffic till May 1940 and the present section will not be usable after May 1939, so that as far as this stretch is concerned it is a wash out. If we are to carry ammunition from Bhamo to the highway, we cannot do so after April by road - but by then the Shweli would be navigable for boats and we must look to it to assist us to land the cargoes in Chefang. My idea is to get a guarantee of a certain quantity at a fixed rate and see if it would pay us to build wooden scows on the Shweli and some sort of power boat to move them.
After a lot of bother we secured a raft of 8 bamboos 3’ wide by about 40’ long and set out down the Nam Kwang. Two Shans are poling and we assist. We cannot speak to the Shans. This is the way to travel – no noise, no dust. I sing till my voice gives out but still keep an eye on the depth of the water. I consider 18” is all that can be obtained, and this is not the lowest month. About 15” next month. We sail about 20 miles in 6 ½ hours until we join the Shweli River. Then we take to the car, a back spring is broken but we insert the blade of a dah to take the place of one of the spring leaves and it holds out pretty well. We make for Hose and are stopped once by Chinese and twice by Burma Inspection Posts.
At Hose Bungalow, fortunately Mr. Eccles the Executive Engineer is stopping, so we talk about roads. The new section Shweli bridge to Hose will not be open for traffic till May 1940 and the present section will not be usable after May 1939, so that as far as this stretch is concerned it is a wash out. If we are to carry ammunition from Bhamo to the highway, we cannot do so after April by road - but by then the Shweli would be navigable for boats and we must look to it to assist us to land the cargoes in Chefang. My idea is to get a guarantee of a certain quantity at a fixed rate and see if it would pay us to build wooden scows on the Shweli and some sort of power boat to move them.
1st March
Left Hose in mist at 7.30 a.m. for Lashio. Had a wash at the bungalow, some sandwiches, and called on the South West Transportation Company. Met Mr. Wong, thanked them for their letters of introduction, and discussed the road.
Left Lashio at noon – reached Mandalay 6.35 and, after dining with the Macdonald’s, caught the 10.10 train for Rangoon.
2nd March
Arrived Rangoon 2.40 p.m. An interesting and instructive trip which I would not like to repeat.
Left Hose in mist at 7.30 a.m. for Lashio. Had a wash at the bungalow, some sandwiches, and called on the South West Transportation Company. Met Mr. Wong, thanked them for their letters of introduction, and discussed the road.
Left Lashio at noon – reached Mandalay 6.35 and, after dining with the Macdonald’s, caught the 10.10 train for Rangoon.
2nd March
Arrived Rangoon 2.40 p.m. An interesting and instructive trip which I would not like to repeat.
1939 – AND AFTER
Experiences of Mrs. May E. Morton
Experiences of Mrs. May E. Morton
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In the summer of 1939 my husband, John, and I were at home on leave, and the summer days were darkened by the shadow of the coming war. Our elder son had decided to adopt the Army as a career, and when my husband was in London at the end of August – actually the third week – he called at the War Office and obtained full particulars, so that we could leave information and instructions with the Head of our son’s school, as we would be in Burma (Myanmar) when the boy reached the age to sit the Entrance Examination for Sandhurst. Our boys returned to school on the 31st August, and we proceeded to Glasgow, where John was asked if he would cut short his leave and return in a fortnight’s time to Burma. We had been due to leave on our return voyage late in October but realized that it was necessary for my husband, who was the Manager of the Irrawaddy Flotilla Company in Burma, to go back at once. Berths were reserved for us both on a P. Henderson ship, but I was warned that I might have to give mine up if it was required for a man.
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On 3rd September Britain declared war on Germany, and on the next morning we read of the sinking of SS Athenia. I had been busy shopping for my return and continued with it that day, but I began to think of the possibilities of the ship being attacked, since the enemy had evidently been all prepared for that sort of thing. That evening I put before John the question as to the wisdom of our travelling together when it was so obviously dangerous, and as we had two sons to think of. After weighing the matter most carefully, we agreed that he should travel as planned, but that I should go later when it was considered safer. My husband, therefore, sailed about the 17th September, and finally reached Burma.
In a letter, the Hon. Lady Cochrane, wife of the Governor of Burma, told me that she had made no definite plans for returning to Burma beyond the fact that she would travel by air when she went, and she suggested that I should travel with her. This made me consider seriously the possibility of going by air, which up till then I had not done. After much thought, I concluded it was the safer mode of travel then and wrote to my husband accordingly. He entirely agreed, and when Lady Cochrane told me she had booked for a plane leaving on 7th January 1940 and asked if I would try to get a seat in it, I at once got into touch with Imperial Airways. I was fortunate in getting a seat on that plane, and as I was then staying with some friends in Bognor Regis I immediately returned to Glasgow and got my heavy luggage off by sea in the hope that it would be in Burma when I arrived. (Actually, it was.)
Thus, on 6th January 1940 I reached Poole, from where we were to leave early on the morning of the 7th. Lady Cochrane and I met on the platform on arrival at Bournemouth Station and drove out together to Poole. There I found that Mrs. H. H. Craw, wife of one of the Counsellors to H. E. the Governor of Burma; Mrs. A. D. McNamara, wife of the Military Secretary to H. E., and a Mrs. Chambers from Tavoy, were also travelling on the same plane. As I already knew Mrs. Craw and Mrs. McNamara, it was pleasant to find we would be a little Burma party. Unfortunately, owing to fog, we would not get off on the morning of the 8th. In one way the delay was very helpful to me, as I had developed influenza during the night of the 6th, and I was glad of the day in which to get the worst of it over, although I did not feel up to much when we took off. Owing to the late start, we did not get very far our first day, and we spent that night in a little village called Parentis, having landed on Lake Biscarrosse.
The next evening, we landed on Lake Bracciano, and were taken by bus to Rome, where we were very comfortably housed in the rather palatial Grand Hotel. There we had further delay, and instead of being one night in Rome, we spent four nights there. Each night we got our orders for the morning start and did not know from day to day when we would get away, so we could not go out of Rome itself. However, we made the most of the time we had and saw all we could of the things of interest and beauty.
Finally, we got off, and our next night stop was Athens, where we arrived in time to visit the Parthenon just before dark. The following night we made Alexandria, and there we had plenty of time to go by tramcar to visit the Gardens and Zoo. Basra was our next night stop, and it was dark by the time we had been dealt with by the Customs etc.
The hotels we had to stop in were very full of air travelers, as our being so late meant the following planes had overtaken us and there were so many more people to be accommodated. But I must say I was very comfortable every place we stopped.
In a letter, the Hon. Lady Cochrane, wife of the Governor of Burma, told me that she had made no definite plans for returning to Burma beyond the fact that she would travel by air when she went, and she suggested that I should travel with her. This made me consider seriously the possibility of going by air, which up till then I had not done. After much thought, I concluded it was the safer mode of travel then and wrote to my husband accordingly. He entirely agreed, and when Lady Cochrane told me she had booked for a plane leaving on 7th January 1940 and asked if I would try to get a seat in it, I at once got into touch with Imperial Airways. I was fortunate in getting a seat on that plane, and as I was then staying with some friends in Bognor Regis I immediately returned to Glasgow and got my heavy luggage off by sea in the hope that it would be in Burma when I arrived. (Actually, it was.)
Thus, on 6th January 1940 I reached Poole, from where we were to leave early on the morning of the 7th. Lady Cochrane and I met on the platform on arrival at Bournemouth Station and drove out together to Poole. There I found that Mrs. H. H. Craw, wife of one of the Counsellors to H. E. the Governor of Burma; Mrs. A. D. McNamara, wife of the Military Secretary to H. E., and a Mrs. Chambers from Tavoy, were also travelling on the same plane. As I already knew Mrs. Craw and Mrs. McNamara, it was pleasant to find we would be a little Burma party. Unfortunately, owing to fog, we would not get off on the morning of the 8th. In one way the delay was very helpful to me, as I had developed influenza during the night of the 6th, and I was glad of the day in which to get the worst of it over, although I did not feel up to much when we took off. Owing to the late start, we did not get very far our first day, and we spent that night in a little village called Parentis, having landed on Lake Biscarrosse.
The next evening, we landed on Lake Bracciano, and were taken by bus to Rome, where we were very comfortably housed in the rather palatial Grand Hotel. There we had further delay, and instead of being one night in Rome, we spent four nights there. Each night we got our orders for the morning start and did not know from day to day when we would get away, so we could not go out of Rome itself. However, we made the most of the time we had and saw all we could of the things of interest and beauty.
Finally, we got off, and our next night stop was Athens, where we arrived in time to visit the Parthenon just before dark. The following night we made Alexandria, and there we had plenty of time to go by tramcar to visit the Gardens and Zoo. Basra was our next night stop, and it was dark by the time we had been dealt with by the Customs etc.
The hotels we had to stop in were very full of air travelers, as our being so late meant the following planes had overtaken us and there were so many more people to be accommodated. But I must say I was very comfortable every place we stopped.
From Basra our next hop was to Karachi, and we night stopped there, reaching Calcutta (Kolkata) the following evening, by which time we felt we were almost “home”. We reached Rangoon (Yangon) about 1 p.m. on the following day – 18th January – and the husbands of all our party except Mrs. Chambers met us.
Not long after our arrival in Burma, Lady Cochrane organized the Burma War Comforts Association, and it commenced to function on June 10th, 1940. My original job in the BWCA was to purchase all wool to be used by the work parties working for the BWCA throughout Burma, but very soon I undertook to supply the patterns to be used for knitted garments and to reply to all enquiries regarding knitted garments. As we had no stocks of wool to begin with, I spent much time in going around Rangoon shops and bazaars trying to buy wool and knitting needles. At the same time I was getting information as to possible sources of supply for large quantities, and I was finally successful in making arrangements for large shipments from Australia, Shanghai and England, and we obtained permission from the Customs authorities to import this wool free of Duty on production of a Certificate from the Burma Red Cross Society stating that it was to be used for War Comforts. This concession enabled us to sell our wool to the work parties at very much less than it would be bought elsewhere. The BWCA did splendid work, and was greatly inspired by Lady Cochrane, who was indefatigable and gave the Association all possible help. At that time, we worked in Government House, and as I had very large stocks of wool which had to be kept under lock and key, Her Excellency very kindly gave us use of one of the bedrooms – No. 7 – which we called the “Eyrie”, in which I spent many happy and – I hope – useful hours.
During this time I was, of course, continuing my Girl Guide work, and the Guides were doing much to help the War Effort by subscribing to various funds, and some were knitting for the BWCA. In May 1941 Sir Archibald and Lady Cochrane returned to England and were succeeded by Sir Reginald and Lady Dorman-Smith. Later, the BWCA moved to the Mayo Marine Club premises, and the work continued, Her Excellency coming two days each week to the Depot.
About June or July 1941, the Executive Committee of the BWCA were asked to form a Committee for Women’s Civil Defence, and I was asked to be a member of this Committee. I had already undertaken control of all Stationary Canteens for Rangoon, and was pretty fully employed, but I acted on the Committee for a little and later gave it up while continuing with my WCD and other jobs. When Civil Defence was taken over by the Corporation of Rangoon, Daw Mya Sein was appointed Director of Women’s Civil Defense and made an excellent Director. When war with Japan was declared, Daw Mya Sein appointed Mrs. Brewitt (then Head of Mobile Canteens) and me as her Joint Deputy Directors, and we three worked happily together.
In the days immediately following the declaration of war with Japan, I spent most of my time dashing around Rangoon getting equipment and stores for the Stationary and Mobile Canteens, and only went to the BWCA when required to do so. I had had the stocks of wool removed to my house when we left Government House, and I continued to issue it from there to the Depot which had moved from Government House to the Rangoon Boat Club.
While buying sugar for the Mobile Canteens in the Scott Market one day (owing to our not having got information regarding where the Stationary Canteens were to function from the Civil Defence Officers, these had only had practices at the City Hall and could not function yet) I slipped on a piece of fruit skin and came down heavily on my left knee. I was able to complete my purchases and returned with them to our Civil Defence Office in the Municipal Buildings. The knee was extremely painful and very badly swollen, but I managed to continue with my jobs for four or five more days – until I had got things into such a state that I could carry on from my telephone if I had to take to bed, which I was afraid must eventually happen. John insisted on my seeing my doctor and, as I knew he was right, I did so. The doctor knew I wanted to keep going if possible and said he would do his best to avoid sending me to bed, but he was not hopeful. However, he strapped the knee securely and I was to try it out for two days and then see him again. It was no use, and I was ordered to bed for ten days or probably more. The cartilage had been displaced and I was to have massage and ultra-red rays, and by then the whole leg was rather a mess.
I had a bed placed in the upstairs lounge beside a desk with the telephone extension on it, and from there I could keep in touch with my work, and I could also cope with letters by typing on my bedtable. My ten days began on Saturday 20th December, and the masseur and doctor visited me daily. On the morning of the 23rd Dec., just as John was about to return to his office after breakfast and was saying adieu to me, the alert sounded. It was necessary for me to get up and dress. He advised me to do so while he was there to help me downstairs, and this I did. John fixed me up on the couch in the study, where Mr. Stockley from Chungking was seated reading the paper – he was staying a few days with us. My husband went off to the office through the alert, and Mr. Stockley and I chatted for a bit. Then the planes sounded very low and close, so I hobbled out and ordered all the servants into the trench and suggested to Mr. Stockley that he should do likewise. He did not, and I did not either, as there were no steps at the time down into the trench, and I severely handicapped with my knee. Mr. Hugh Wilkie, ICS, came into the compound and asked if he could shelter with us so I showed him where the trench was. He did not get into it, however, but his driver did.
Not long after our arrival in Burma, Lady Cochrane organized the Burma War Comforts Association, and it commenced to function on June 10th, 1940. My original job in the BWCA was to purchase all wool to be used by the work parties working for the BWCA throughout Burma, but very soon I undertook to supply the patterns to be used for knitted garments and to reply to all enquiries regarding knitted garments. As we had no stocks of wool to begin with, I spent much time in going around Rangoon shops and bazaars trying to buy wool and knitting needles. At the same time I was getting information as to possible sources of supply for large quantities, and I was finally successful in making arrangements for large shipments from Australia, Shanghai and England, and we obtained permission from the Customs authorities to import this wool free of Duty on production of a Certificate from the Burma Red Cross Society stating that it was to be used for War Comforts. This concession enabled us to sell our wool to the work parties at very much less than it would be bought elsewhere. The BWCA did splendid work, and was greatly inspired by Lady Cochrane, who was indefatigable and gave the Association all possible help. At that time, we worked in Government House, and as I had very large stocks of wool which had to be kept under lock and key, Her Excellency very kindly gave us use of one of the bedrooms – No. 7 – which we called the “Eyrie”, in which I spent many happy and – I hope – useful hours.
During this time I was, of course, continuing my Girl Guide work, and the Guides were doing much to help the War Effort by subscribing to various funds, and some were knitting for the BWCA. In May 1941 Sir Archibald and Lady Cochrane returned to England and were succeeded by Sir Reginald and Lady Dorman-Smith. Later, the BWCA moved to the Mayo Marine Club premises, and the work continued, Her Excellency coming two days each week to the Depot.
About June or July 1941, the Executive Committee of the BWCA were asked to form a Committee for Women’s Civil Defence, and I was asked to be a member of this Committee. I had already undertaken control of all Stationary Canteens for Rangoon, and was pretty fully employed, but I acted on the Committee for a little and later gave it up while continuing with my WCD and other jobs. When Civil Defence was taken over by the Corporation of Rangoon, Daw Mya Sein was appointed Director of Women’s Civil Defense and made an excellent Director. When war with Japan was declared, Daw Mya Sein appointed Mrs. Brewitt (then Head of Mobile Canteens) and me as her Joint Deputy Directors, and we three worked happily together.
In the days immediately following the declaration of war with Japan, I spent most of my time dashing around Rangoon getting equipment and stores for the Stationary and Mobile Canteens, and only went to the BWCA when required to do so. I had had the stocks of wool removed to my house when we left Government House, and I continued to issue it from there to the Depot which had moved from Government House to the Rangoon Boat Club.
While buying sugar for the Mobile Canteens in the Scott Market one day (owing to our not having got information regarding where the Stationary Canteens were to function from the Civil Defence Officers, these had only had practices at the City Hall and could not function yet) I slipped on a piece of fruit skin and came down heavily on my left knee. I was able to complete my purchases and returned with them to our Civil Defence Office in the Municipal Buildings. The knee was extremely painful and very badly swollen, but I managed to continue with my jobs for four or five more days – until I had got things into such a state that I could carry on from my telephone if I had to take to bed, which I was afraid must eventually happen. John insisted on my seeing my doctor and, as I knew he was right, I did so. The doctor knew I wanted to keep going if possible and said he would do his best to avoid sending me to bed, but he was not hopeful. However, he strapped the knee securely and I was to try it out for two days and then see him again. It was no use, and I was ordered to bed for ten days or probably more. The cartilage had been displaced and I was to have massage and ultra-red rays, and by then the whole leg was rather a mess.
I had a bed placed in the upstairs lounge beside a desk with the telephone extension on it, and from there I could keep in touch with my work, and I could also cope with letters by typing on my bedtable. My ten days began on Saturday 20th December, and the masseur and doctor visited me daily. On the morning of the 23rd Dec., just as John was about to return to his office after breakfast and was saying adieu to me, the alert sounded. It was necessary for me to get up and dress. He advised me to do so while he was there to help me downstairs, and this I did. John fixed me up on the couch in the study, where Mr. Stockley from Chungking was seated reading the paper – he was staying a few days with us. My husband went off to the office through the alert, and Mr. Stockley and I chatted for a bit. Then the planes sounded very low and close, so I hobbled out and ordered all the servants into the trench and suggested to Mr. Stockley that he should do likewise. He did not, and I did not either, as there were no steps at the time down into the trench, and I severely handicapped with my knee. Mr. Hugh Wilkie, ICS, came into the compound and asked if he could shelter with us so I showed him where the trench was. He did not get into it, however, but his driver did.
We were all standing in the compound watching parachutists and pieces of burning ‘planes coming down, when suddenly things began to happen and bombs to fall uncomfortably close to us. I dived headfirst into the hedge beside me and stayed there while the bombs were dropping nearby, and the sound of them was really terrifying. One was so close that I was certain that our house, Belmont, had gone; and we were only about 35 yards from it!! All the time I was in the hedge my only feelings were of surprise and whether the next bomb would get me. When things were quieter, I took one eye out of the hedge and saw Mr. Stockley lying on the ground near me with his head under the hedge and his body exposed to the sky!
Much to my surprise, Belmont was still there and appeared to be intact. I have never known just what Mr. Wilkie did, but he appeared when we regained an up-right position and then went to have a look at his car which he had left in the drive in front of Belmont. Both his front tires had been cut by bomb splinters from the bomb which had sounded so close. It had fallen in the compound of the next house, which was Steel Bros. & Co.’s chummery, and 30 people had been killed by it. These people were rushing through the compound in a wild dash to reach some other place, despite all the instructions which had been given to the public.
Mr. Stockley and I remained in the compound, standing talking and watching various fires which had been started, and I was very anxious as to my husband’s safety, as we knew many of the bombs had fallen in the neighbourhood of his office. Someone phoned and told me that Mr. and Mrs. Pope had both been killed in the premises of Watson & Sons, and as this shop was in Phayre Street a little way from John’s office in the same street my anxiety increased. However, I would not phone, as we had been asked to leave telephones free for Government and Civil Defence Services, but I was very relieved when one of our office men phoned me to assure me that all in our office were alright.
The alert had sounded about 10 a.m. and the all clear did not go until 2 p.m., but this was chiefly in order to get some of the dead removed before letting the public move about. My servants were very well-behaved that day despite the fright they must have had, and apart from much chattering amongst themselves, they carried on as usual.
When John came for tea, he told us of his experiences and that one of our Captains had been killed by a bomb splinter while standing on his steamer talking with other men. His Chief Engineer was wounded in the head while in his cabin and was removed to hospital. He was making satisfactory progress, and was fully expected to recover, but the shock of the following raid on 25th Dec. was too much for him and he died a little while after. The Popes, our Capt. and the Chief Engineer were, I believe, the only Europeans to be killed in that raid, but the exact number of deaths was never published correctly. It was said to have been in the neighbourhood of 3,000, and there were thousands of casualties. The hospitals had an awful time, as many of the staffs had left their posts and so they were short of staff. Rangoon streets were like a charnel-house, with dead bodies lying about. As coolies had run away in their thousands, it was almost impossible to get the labour to remove the bodies, and I was lucky in not seeing any of the awful sights.
On the following morning – Dec. 24th – Mrs. Brewitt came to Belmont in search of a bath, as she had been out all night with the mobile canteens and did splendid work. As she was finishing dressing, the alert sounded and we went to the trench. However, it turned out to be a false alarm, and the all clear sounded, and we returned to the house. Mrs. Brewitt had some food and tea before returning to Civil Defence or BWCA. So, Christmas Eve passed without a raid.
On Christmas morning about 11 a.m. while we were entertaining some friends in the study, the alert wailed out once more. By then we had had a second trench dug and had steps in both, and I had had them covered with green branches to prevent the freshly cut earth from showing from the sky. We got the servants into one trench, and we – Mr. and Mrs. H. Reddin, Mr. Stockley, John and I - got into the other. We heard the planes some distance away, but it was some time before they came near, and during that time someone from our Senior Chummery trench close by called out an invitation for us to come and have beer with them. We declined, feeling it wiser to stay where we were, and it was just as well we did so, as the planes flew overhead, and we could see them through the branches. We were straddled again and heard the bombs dropping quite near on both sides of us. One dropped less than a hundred yards away, and we heard the grass blazing, but no harm was done by it.
I have no hesitation in admitting that I was anything but comfortable sitting there, and I realized fully what it must have meant to the people at home to live with that sort of thing daily for so long, and I was more than ever proud of how London had taken it.
When the all clear sounded we returned to the house. From the compound we could see the various fires which had been started some distance away in all directions, and we dreaded the possibly high death rate again. However, the masses had learned a lesson in the precious raid and had not flooded the streets as they did then. Consequently, there were far fewer casualties.
Soon after the raid was over, we went down to the Dry’s house just below ours, to which we had all been invited for Christmas drinks, and we found that they were also all alright. We sat for some time there, and then we went home for lunch. After lunch the two men went up to bed for a rest and sleep, but as I found the stairs very difficult on account of my knee, I sat in the study all afternoon and wrote some home mail – which I am afraid never reached home.
Much to my surprise, Belmont was still there and appeared to be intact. I have never known just what Mr. Wilkie did, but he appeared when we regained an up-right position and then went to have a look at his car which he had left in the drive in front of Belmont. Both his front tires had been cut by bomb splinters from the bomb which had sounded so close. It had fallen in the compound of the next house, which was Steel Bros. & Co.’s chummery, and 30 people had been killed by it. These people were rushing through the compound in a wild dash to reach some other place, despite all the instructions which had been given to the public.
Mr. Stockley and I remained in the compound, standing talking and watching various fires which had been started, and I was very anxious as to my husband’s safety, as we knew many of the bombs had fallen in the neighbourhood of his office. Someone phoned and told me that Mr. and Mrs. Pope had both been killed in the premises of Watson & Sons, and as this shop was in Phayre Street a little way from John’s office in the same street my anxiety increased. However, I would not phone, as we had been asked to leave telephones free for Government and Civil Defence Services, but I was very relieved when one of our office men phoned me to assure me that all in our office were alright.
The alert had sounded about 10 a.m. and the all clear did not go until 2 p.m., but this was chiefly in order to get some of the dead removed before letting the public move about. My servants were very well-behaved that day despite the fright they must have had, and apart from much chattering amongst themselves, they carried on as usual.
When John came for tea, he told us of his experiences and that one of our Captains had been killed by a bomb splinter while standing on his steamer talking with other men. His Chief Engineer was wounded in the head while in his cabin and was removed to hospital. He was making satisfactory progress, and was fully expected to recover, but the shock of the following raid on 25th Dec. was too much for him and he died a little while after. The Popes, our Capt. and the Chief Engineer were, I believe, the only Europeans to be killed in that raid, but the exact number of deaths was never published correctly. It was said to have been in the neighbourhood of 3,000, and there were thousands of casualties. The hospitals had an awful time, as many of the staffs had left their posts and so they were short of staff. Rangoon streets were like a charnel-house, with dead bodies lying about. As coolies had run away in their thousands, it was almost impossible to get the labour to remove the bodies, and I was lucky in not seeing any of the awful sights.
On the following morning – Dec. 24th – Mrs. Brewitt came to Belmont in search of a bath, as she had been out all night with the mobile canteens and did splendid work. As she was finishing dressing, the alert sounded and we went to the trench. However, it turned out to be a false alarm, and the all clear sounded, and we returned to the house. Mrs. Brewitt had some food and tea before returning to Civil Defence or BWCA. So, Christmas Eve passed without a raid.
On Christmas morning about 11 a.m. while we were entertaining some friends in the study, the alert wailed out once more. By then we had had a second trench dug and had steps in both, and I had had them covered with green branches to prevent the freshly cut earth from showing from the sky. We got the servants into one trench, and we – Mr. and Mrs. H. Reddin, Mr. Stockley, John and I - got into the other. We heard the planes some distance away, but it was some time before they came near, and during that time someone from our Senior Chummery trench close by called out an invitation for us to come and have beer with them. We declined, feeling it wiser to stay where we were, and it was just as well we did so, as the planes flew overhead, and we could see them through the branches. We were straddled again and heard the bombs dropping quite near on both sides of us. One dropped less than a hundred yards away, and we heard the grass blazing, but no harm was done by it.
I have no hesitation in admitting that I was anything but comfortable sitting there, and I realized fully what it must have meant to the people at home to live with that sort of thing daily for so long, and I was more than ever proud of how London had taken it.
When the all clear sounded we returned to the house. From the compound we could see the various fires which had been started some distance away in all directions, and we dreaded the possibly high death rate again. However, the masses had learned a lesson in the precious raid and had not flooded the streets as they did then. Consequently, there were far fewer casualties.
Soon after the raid was over, we went down to the Dry’s house just below ours, to which we had all been invited for Christmas drinks, and we found that they were also all alright. We sat for some time there, and then we went home for lunch. After lunch the two men went up to bed for a rest and sleep, but as I found the stairs very difficult on account of my knee, I sat in the study all afternoon and wrote some home mail – which I am afraid never reached home.
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Immediately after tea our servants came and told us they were frightened and were going to sleep at the Boat Club compound, as they thought it was safer there. John was angry and told the butler that we, too, were frightened, but that we were remaining in the house and why could not they.
However, they wanted to go, and said they would come in the morning to work if there was not another raid. I felt very sorry for them and did not blame them for wanting to go, as we certainly had been straddled in the only two raids there had been, and it looked as if our house was not in too good a position. It was also pretty near the Railway Station, which was one of the objectives. So I told the butler they must do as they wanted to, as I could not say whether it was safe to stay at Belmont or if it was safer at the Boat Club, but I pointed out that we did have a trench for them while I doubted if they would find one where they were going. I felt that they must make their own decision, as it would have been unbearable if we persuaded them to stay with us and then something had happened to them. |
The cook, both durwans, two paniwallahs and all the malis stayed, and the paniwallahs served dinner before they, too, went to the Boat Club. The cook, being a “Mug” did not sleep in our compound anyhow. Both our drivers had also gone, but the No. 1 came back at the end of the month and was with my husband till he left Mandalay. The butler did come for a little each day, but always left after tea.
After the servants had gone on Christmas afternoon my husband and Mr. Stockley went in one of our cars to see how our foundries etc. had fared. I wanted to go with them as I hated the thought of being alone in Belmont without even the servants and thought anything was better than that. However, John would not let me go, as he said there were bound to be awful sights which he did not want me to see, so I had to stay at home. But I had quite made up my mind that, knee or no knee, I was going back to my Civil Defence work next morning. It was simply impossible to sit at home all day when there was work to be done. John did not want me to go, as he knew – as I did – that it would mean that my knee would never be quite normal, but I persuaded him that it was better to have a weak knee than to be mentally deranged. He finally understood and gave way.
The following morning – 26th Dec. – Mrs. Brewitt again came for a bath and some food, as she had once more been out all night with her canteens, and I went back with her to the City Hall, where our headquarters were. I continued there daily thereafter. I ran into my doctor at the City Hall that first day, but he was very understanding and said he had expected to find me there pretty soon. As we had no driver at that time, I had to rely on my husband for transport to and from the City Hall and had to make my hours there fit with his at the office. That meant my leaving Belmont at 7 a.m. and getting back there about 6 or 6.30 p.m., according to when John was coming.
We continued to have alerts but there was no more heavy bombing of the town area. However, some of our servants did not come back, and very soon the butler came and told me he was going away for 3 days to take his wife to Danabyu, a place on the Delta, as she was very frightened, and that he would return to me then. He never came back and, instead of going to the Delta, he went to Maymyo (Pyin Oo Lwin), in Upper Burma, where he had meant to go all the time. Things were not so very bad so long as my cook remained, but when he vanished without warning it was a real blow, as I had then to get home in time to prepare tea for John, who did not ever take tiffin, and I also had to make dinner.
Mr. Stockley then left us, and I confess it was a relief to me, as it was no time for having visitors. One sweeper had returned, and he made the fire in the morning, so that I could get the chota hazri prepared, but I found I could eat nothing at all in the mornings. Then I had to rush around pretty fast, making our two beds, which we had by then had brought down to the study to be more convenient for the trench as night raids were so frequent. I also handed out daily rations of rice to all the servants who remained, and all this had to be done in time to go out with my husband.
We still had both durwans, three malis and one sweeper, and the driver who had returned, and all of those were with us till the end in Rangoon. At least, until the hoisting of the “E” label. The driver was sent off on the 19th February in the big car, with my Springer spaniel Buster, and a suitcase for each of us in case we got to Mandalay and required them there. We had supplied the daily rice rations to all servants from the declaration of war with Japan, as we realized they might have difficulty in getting supplies if bazaar people ran away or closed their stalls, and we had had a part of the compound wired in and over and kept a supply of hens and ducks – which proved most useful.
During the time from the second blitz until the “E” label went up we had many night raids, but most of them were aimed at Mingaladon Aerodrome. They continued while there was a moon, and we often had to go several times to the trench during the night, which was a nuisance, but we decided not to take any chances. One night we had four alerts in rapid succession, and during the last one I fell asleep in the trench for the first and last time. The siren wakened me, and half asleep I thought it was an alert and that I was in my own bed. I said peevishly, “Drat these wretched Japs, there’s the alert again”. John laughed and told me it was the all clear, and of course by then I had realized I was still in the trench.
For a long time, I had been sleeping in vest, pants and a morning frock, as it was much easier for going to the trench. We had the trench really very comfortable and could have slept there had it not been for the mosquitoes. We had had both trenches roofed with steel sheets, heaped on top with earth and turfed over. To safeguard the entrances from bomb splinters, we had mounds of earth and turf at the steps’ end, and we also had an air space left at the other end. On the floor of the trench we had first a Li-Lo waterproof sheet, next we had sailcloth, then bamboo matting and on top of those we had our two mattresses placed end to end as the trench was long. Then we had a pillow each, and these were placed in the centre of the trench so that we lay with our feet to the ends. Each morning we had everything taken out of the trench and put in the sun, and before putting them back in the early evening, we burned newspapers in the trench to get rid of some of the mosquitoes. We had a blanket for each on a chair by the study door ready to pick up on our way to the trench, and we each had a torch on our bedside table. I always took a flit-gun down with me, too, and burned mosquito coils all evening in the trench.
After the servants had gone on Christmas afternoon my husband and Mr. Stockley went in one of our cars to see how our foundries etc. had fared. I wanted to go with them as I hated the thought of being alone in Belmont without even the servants and thought anything was better than that. However, John would not let me go, as he said there were bound to be awful sights which he did not want me to see, so I had to stay at home. But I had quite made up my mind that, knee or no knee, I was going back to my Civil Defence work next morning. It was simply impossible to sit at home all day when there was work to be done. John did not want me to go, as he knew – as I did – that it would mean that my knee would never be quite normal, but I persuaded him that it was better to have a weak knee than to be mentally deranged. He finally understood and gave way.
The following morning – 26th Dec. – Mrs. Brewitt again came for a bath and some food, as she had once more been out all night with her canteens, and I went back with her to the City Hall, where our headquarters were. I continued there daily thereafter. I ran into my doctor at the City Hall that first day, but he was very understanding and said he had expected to find me there pretty soon. As we had no driver at that time, I had to rely on my husband for transport to and from the City Hall and had to make my hours there fit with his at the office. That meant my leaving Belmont at 7 a.m. and getting back there about 6 or 6.30 p.m., according to when John was coming.
We continued to have alerts but there was no more heavy bombing of the town area. However, some of our servants did not come back, and very soon the butler came and told me he was going away for 3 days to take his wife to Danabyu, a place on the Delta, as she was very frightened, and that he would return to me then. He never came back and, instead of going to the Delta, he went to Maymyo (Pyin Oo Lwin), in Upper Burma, where he had meant to go all the time. Things were not so very bad so long as my cook remained, but when he vanished without warning it was a real blow, as I had then to get home in time to prepare tea for John, who did not ever take tiffin, and I also had to make dinner.
Mr. Stockley then left us, and I confess it was a relief to me, as it was no time for having visitors. One sweeper had returned, and he made the fire in the morning, so that I could get the chota hazri prepared, but I found I could eat nothing at all in the mornings. Then I had to rush around pretty fast, making our two beds, which we had by then had brought down to the study to be more convenient for the trench as night raids were so frequent. I also handed out daily rations of rice to all the servants who remained, and all this had to be done in time to go out with my husband.
We still had both durwans, three malis and one sweeper, and the driver who had returned, and all of those were with us till the end in Rangoon. At least, until the hoisting of the “E” label. The driver was sent off on the 19th February in the big car, with my Springer spaniel Buster, and a suitcase for each of us in case we got to Mandalay and required them there. We had supplied the daily rice rations to all servants from the declaration of war with Japan, as we realized they might have difficulty in getting supplies if bazaar people ran away or closed their stalls, and we had had a part of the compound wired in and over and kept a supply of hens and ducks – which proved most useful.
During the time from the second blitz until the “E” label went up we had many night raids, but most of them were aimed at Mingaladon Aerodrome. They continued while there was a moon, and we often had to go several times to the trench during the night, which was a nuisance, but we decided not to take any chances. One night we had four alerts in rapid succession, and during the last one I fell asleep in the trench for the first and last time. The siren wakened me, and half asleep I thought it was an alert and that I was in my own bed. I said peevishly, “Drat these wretched Japs, there’s the alert again”. John laughed and told me it was the all clear, and of course by then I had realized I was still in the trench.
For a long time, I had been sleeping in vest, pants and a morning frock, as it was much easier for going to the trench. We had the trench really very comfortable and could have slept there had it not been for the mosquitoes. We had had both trenches roofed with steel sheets, heaped on top with earth and turfed over. To safeguard the entrances from bomb splinters, we had mounds of earth and turf at the steps’ end, and we also had an air space left at the other end. On the floor of the trench we had first a Li-Lo waterproof sheet, next we had sailcloth, then bamboo matting and on top of those we had our two mattresses placed end to end as the trench was long. Then we had a pillow each, and these were placed in the centre of the trench so that we lay with our feet to the ends. Each morning we had everything taken out of the trench and put in the sun, and before putting them back in the early evening, we burned newspapers in the trench to get rid of some of the mosquitoes. We had a blanket for each on a chair by the study door ready to pick up on our way to the trench, and we each had a torch on our bedside table. I always took a flit-gun down with me, too, and burned mosquito coils all evening in the trench.
My dog, Buster, was very raid-wise. His charpoy bed was at the front porch beside the durwan, but he was not chained. Immediately the alert sounded, he came running to the study entrance from outside, the durwan following, and the latter always said ‘Sitti nai’ – whistle here – and never failed to hear it at once. Actually, we always heard it immediately ourselves, and we did not delay in getting out of bed and into the trench, especially after the Japanese occupied Tavoy, as the warnings were much shorter then. Buster was not happy until we were in the trench, and then he used to sit up on the top at the entrance and we saw him silhouetted against the sky. Whenever a bomb dropped, or a gun went off, Buster came down into the trench at once and lay quivering beside one or other of us. But as soon as all was quiet again, up he went and took up his position as before. But he was all against our leaving the trench before the all clear sounded.
One night my husband went down with dysentery, and unfortunately, we had a three-hours alert, and he had to keep going across to the house at intervals. Buster was most unhappy about it. John finally decided to go right to bed and stay there. I went over to the house with him, but he made me return to the trench, much to Buster’s delight.
Some friends of ours, who sometimes got caught by an alert in the daytime when we were not at home, used to go into our trench, and they told me long afterwards how distressed Buster had been one day when they decided to risk it and go on through the alert as things seemed quiet. I believe Buster did all that a dog could to keep them from leaving the trench. They were much struck with his sense.
Our canteens (Stationary) had not been running prior to the first raid, although we had had some practices, but we had been unable to get the funds to purchase equipment etc. up to then. We got the sanction only after Japan entered the war, but had still not got delivery of the urns etc., nor had we received the necessary information as to exactly where the canteens were to function. I was informed that they must be where the Control Rooms and ARP Posts were.
There was one Control Room operating in the City Hall, and as soon as our equipment arrived, we could have got a start made there. However, on the day of the first raid none of the three Heads of the Women’s Civil Defence was at the City hall, Daw Mya Sein, Director, being held up at her house by the Alert, Mrs. Brewitt, Joint Deputy Director, being held up at the Burma War Comforts Association, and I, the other Joint Deputy Director, being laid up with my disabled knee. Our WCD typist, Charlotte, got some helpers together and with the equipment available she got a canteen started, serving tea and biscuits and did excellent work. That canteen never failed day or night thereafter till the “E” label went up. This was a fine record, and the work was carried on by teams working in shifts day and night.
Originally, we had a few Europeans in the teams, but as these girls had to earn their living and our service was entirely voluntary at the start and for many weeks, they had to leave and seek paid work. The others were Anglo-Indian and Anglo-Burmese girls for the most part, with a few Burmese latterly.
We had an office in a small desolate-looking room off the main hall of the City Hall, and from there we controlled all the canteens – Mobile and Stationary. The latter were in various buildings in the different districts, and we had established a second canteen in the City Hall, which served curry and rice meals twice a day. When the sirens wailed the alert, people streamed into the hall from the streets in their masses to shelter, although it was not really a proper “shelter”. It was all we had, and we went into the hall from our office and stayed there till the alert was over. It was pathetic to see the mothers with their little children come in, and we used to park those with babies under the tables for greater safety.
At first there were huge light bowls still in the roof and of course there were a good many large ceiling fans. The bowls were removed later, but the fans remained although we did not allow them to be operated during alerts. While the ARP Service still functioned, we had to obey orders and had all to get down on the floor and lie on our sides, and as the floor was of marble, this was both cold and hard. However, the people who came regularly and brought their children mostly brought rugs etc. to lie on, and I had my chair cushion and coat for the same purpose. Later, we simply sat on chairs at the tables until we could return to our office and hoped for the best.
For a time, we were feeding tea twice a day to well over a thousand coolies. These were very important people as they had to clear up bodies and debris, etc., and we realized the need to care for them. They were housed in camps and brought in to work daily and taken home again when finished. In addition to the canteens in which we served tea or cooked meals, we were also supplying urns of tea and buckets of curry and rice ready cooked to several fire brigade and other stations, and to a number we sent weekly supplies of “raw rations”. These latter consisted of rice and all the vegetables, eggs or meat, whichever sort of curry was for the days concerned.
This, as you can imagine, necessitated a lot of planning and buying, and we were ably assisted by two Burmans, one being a policeman, sort of seconded to us to help. We were very proud of our Service and the loyalty which was shown by many of our helpers, and justly so. Some of the original members were still functioning faithfully at the end, and these were Anglo-Indian. They did a grand job.
One night my husband went down with dysentery, and unfortunately, we had a three-hours alert, and he had to keep going across to the house at intervals. Buster was most unhappy about it. John finally decided to go right to bed and stay there. I went over to the house with him, but he made me return to the trench, much to Buster’s delight.
Some friends of ours, who sometimes got caught by an alert in the daytime when we were not at home, used to go into our trench, and they told me long afterwards how distressed Buster had been one day when they decided to risk it and go on through the alert as things seemed quiet. I believe Buster did all that a dog could to keep them from leaving the trench. They were much struck with his sense.
Our canteens (Stationary) had not been running prior to the first raid, although we had had some practices, but we had been unable to get the funds to purchase equipment etc. up to then. We got the sanction only after Japan entered the war, but had still not got delivery of the urns etc., nor had we received the necessary information as to exactly where the canteens were to function. I was informed that they must be where the Control Rooms and ARP Posts were.
There was one Control Room operating in the City Hall, and as soon as our equipment arrived, we could have got a start made there. However, on the day of the first raid none of the three Heads of the Women’s Civil Defence was at the City hall, Daw Mya Sein, Director, being held up at her house by the Alert, Mrs. Brewitt, Joint Deputy Director, being held up at the Burma War Comforts Association, and I, the other Joint Deputy Director, being laid up with my disabled knee. Our WCD typist, Charlotte, got some helpers together and with the equipment available she got a canteen started, serving tea and biscuits and did excellent work. That canteen never failed day or night thereafter till the “E” label went up. This was a fine record, and the work was carried on by teams working in shifts day and night.
Originally, we had a few Europeans in the teams, but as these girls had to earn their living and our service was entirely voluntary at the start and for many weeks, they had to leave and seek paid work. The others were Anglo-Indian and Anglo-Burmese girls for the most part, with a few Burmese latterly.
We had an office in a small desolate-looking room off the main hall of the City Hall, and from there we controlled all the canteens – Mobile and Stationary. The latter were in various buildings in the different districts, and we had established a second canteen in the City Hall, which served curry and rice meals twice a day. When the sirens wailed the alert, people streamed into the hall from the streets in their masses to shelter, although it was not really a proper “shelter”. It was all we had, and we went into the hall from our office and stayed there till the alert was over. It was pathetic to see the mothers with their little children come in, and we used to park those with babies under the tables for greater safety.
At first there were huge light bowls still in the roof and of course there were a good many large ceiling fans. The bowls were removed later, but the fans remained although we did not allow them to be operated during alerts. While the ARP Service still functioned, we had to obey orders and had all to get down on the floor and lie on our sides, and as the floor was of marble, this was both cold and hard. However, the people who came regularly and brought their children mostly brought rugs etc. to lie on, and I had my chair cushion and coat for the same purpose. Later, we simply sat on chairs at the tables until we could return to our office and hoped for the best.
For a time, we were feeding tea twice a day to well over a thousand coolies. These were very important people as they had to clear up bodies and debris, etc., and we realized the need to care for them. They were housed in camps and brought in to work daily and taken home again when finished. In addition to the canteens in which we served tea or cooked meals, we were also supplying urns of tea and buckets of curry and rice ready cooked to several fire brigade and other stations, and to a number we sent weekly supplies of “raw rations”. These latter consisted of rice and all the vegetables, eggs or meat, whichever sort of curry was for the days concerned.
This, as you can imagine, necessitated a lot of planning and buying, and we were ably assisted by two Burmans, one being a policeman, sort of seconded to us to help. We were very proud of our Service and the loyalty which was shown by many of our helpers, and justly so. Some of the original members were still functioning faithfully at the end, and these were Anglo-Indian. They did a grand job.
Of course, as time had gone on, we had lost helpers, through their relatives insisting on their evacuating to safer spots, and this was unavoidable. Not many weeks before the “E” label was hoisted, which meant that all Women’s Services had to leave Rangoon, we had been given sanction for small wages to be paid to a limited number of our helpers. Prior to then all had been entirely voluntary workers. That made it possible for us to get a few more helpers in, but mostly they were not of the same type, but were out for the money. However, we managed to have enough to carry on with. The Stationary Canteens and most of the Mobile Canteens had ceased to operate some time before we had to close down, but we still had five shifts working at the City Hall canteens, plus the team which ran the curry and rice canteen there – a pretty good record.
On the 14th February, Daw Mya sein, our Director, went on a week’s leave to see her children at Pakkoku, and I took over the finance, and the ordering and sending out of the supplies in her absence. During that week I realized that the end was very near for our tea canteen, as we were getting very short of helpers. I discussed it with Mrs. Brewitt, and I asked the Civil Defence Officer, Mr. C. B. Rennick, our ever present and most kind help in time of trouble, for an appointment to put the matter before him. He gave me an appointment for the forenoon of 20th February, as soon as he would have returned from seeing his wife off by ship to Calcutta.
It was obvious to me that morning that we simply could not carry on a twenty-four-hour canteen for another day, so Mrs. Brewitt and I spent that Friday forenoon in clearing up our WCD Office affairs. I went over the finance while she cleared out cupboards etc. and made ready for the finish. I could have continued to carry on the curry and rice canteen - also the sending out of the cooked and raw rations - and wanted to get Mr. Rennick’s opinion of my plans.
However, he was delayed at the wharf as the ship was late in getting off, and I had not yet seen him when Mr. (now Lt-Col) Brewitt came into our office. He was horrified to find us there calmly taking our modest tiffin (ham sandwich) and asked us what we were doing there and if we did not know that the “E” label had gone up. That was the first intimation we got of it, and up to then we had not even received copies of the official instructions as to the procedure to be adopted if and when the “E” label did go up, although these had been prepared some time before and I had actually seen a copy. However, we had not received them and so our staff had no idea what to do.
Mr. Brewitt went over to Mr. Rennick’s office to find out if he had received notice of the hoisting of the “E” label, while I telephoned to John to see what he could tell me. I found that he had been trying to get me by phone but could not succeed. He confirmed the news and told me to get home and pack, but I said I must finish up the office and get wages paid etc. and hand over to the Chief Accountant of the Rangoon Corporation, Mr. Mitchell. John arranged to call and take me home to pack in a little while, and I returned to our office to find Mr. Brewitt there with the news that Mr. Rennick had had no news of the “E” label being up.
On the 14th February, Daw Mya sein, our Director, went on a week’s leave to see her children at Pakkoku, and I took over the finance, and the ordering and sending out of the supplies in her absence. During that week I realized that the end was very near for our tea canteen, as we were getting very short of helpers. I discussed it with Mrs. Brewitt, and I asked the Civil Defence Officer, Mr. C. B. Rennick, our ever present and most kind help in time of trouble, for an appointment to put the matter before him. He gave me an appointment for the forenoon of 20th February, as soon as he would have returned from seeing his wife off by ship to Calcutta.
It was obvious to me that morning that we simply could not carry on a twenty-four-hour canteen for another day, so Mrs. Brewitt and I spent that Friday forenoon in clearing up our WCD Office affairs. I went over the finance while she cleared out cupboards etc. and made ready for the finish. I could have continued to carry on the curry and rice canteen - also the sending out of the cooked and raw rations - and wanted to get Mr. Rennick’s opinion of my plans.
However, he was delayed at the wharf as the ship was late in getting off, and I had not yet seen him when Mr. (now Lt-Col) Brewitt came into our office. He was horrified to find us there calmly taking our modest tiffin (ham sandwich) and asked us what we were doing there and if we did not know that the “E” label had gone up. That was the first intimation we got of it, and up to then we had not even received copies of the official instructions as to the procedure to be adopted if and when the “E” label did go up, although these had been prepared some time before and I had actually seen a copy. However, we had not received them and so our staff had no idea what to do.
Mr. Brewitt went over to Mr. Rennick’s office to find out if he had received notice of the hoisting of the “E” label, while I telephoned to John to see what he could tell me. I found that he had been trying to get me by phone but could not succeed. He confirmed the news and told me to get home and pack, but I said I must finish up the office and get wages paid etc. and hand over to the Chief Accountant of the Rangoon Corporation, Mr. Mitchell. John arranged to call and take me home to pack in a little while, and I returned to our office to find Mr. Brewitt there with the news that Mr. Rennick had had no news of the “E” label being up.
I may say that we never did get official news from the Defence Department, and having heard that morning from a Control Room girl that there were notices in existence regarding what to do should we have to get out, Mr. Rennick had phoned the Defence Department, and found the notices were lying on a desk there, and they were only sent over as a result of that phone message. I distributed them to my staff, paid the wages, got receipts from all our workers, and handed over the job completed to Mr. Mitchell. I had made Mrs. Brewitt go home earlier as she could not help me. I was just ready when my husband arrived, and we went to my house, where he left me to pack my bedding-roll and a suitcase, which was all we were allowed to take on the train with us.
We had to leave on the Women Evacuee train from Kemmendine Railway Station at 6 p.m. that evening, but it was wise to get to the station early and get accommodation, so John asked me to be ready by 4.30. I was quite ready; in fact I was sitting knitting when he came. We had tea together in the study, and then called the servants we still had, and we explained to them that I was having to go, and that if they wanted help in leaving Rangoon my husband had a pass for each to travel on his staff launch to Mandalay, fed and carried free. The launch was to leave at 6 p.m. The butler, who had only been about a week with us, wanted to stay when he knew that “Master” was not leaving yet, but I pointed out to him that as Master was a ‘last ditcher’ he would not be able to help anyone when the demolition of Rangoon took place, and he might well have difficulty in getting himself out.
So, all the servants received passes and instructions about getting the launch, closing the house and handing over the keys to my husband, and we got into the car and drove off to the station. It is impossible to talk of one’s feelings at such a parting. We each knew full well that we might never meet again, but we did not talk about it, each knowing without words what was in the other’s heart. John went back to the office, and I remained in the waiting room until the train came in.
Then I crossed the line to the other platform, found a carriage had been reserved for Mrs. Brewitt and me, and got my luggage put in. Mrs. Brewitt joined me there, and then Mrs. Mitchell arrived, and we took her in beside us. The train journey to Prome (Pyay) was uneventful, and was reasonably comfortable, and we arrived there in the early hours of Saturday morning.
Luckily, an I. F. Co. steamer was available, and about 8.30 a.m. we got on board – some 300 evacuee women in all, with Mr. Lees of the Burma Railways, and Mr. Warner of the Police with a guard of sepoys. Mr. Healy of the ICS had had the job of getting the provisions for us all put on board, and he asked Mrs. Brewitt and me if we would take charge for the trip to Mandalay. It was fortunate that we had not had time to change out of our WCD uniforms, and that we had taken our extra ones with us on the chance of continuing such work in Upper Burma, as it gave us more authority over the crowd. Some half a dozen of the evacuees assisted us, and we had splendid help from both Mr. Lees and Mr. Warner, who were grand and did all sorts of jobs for us – pleasant and otherwise, and I can never express my gratitude to them for their help and cheer so willingly given during the 4 ½ days of our river trip to Mandalay. We were also very grateful to the other helpers.
It was pretty ghastly at times, as some of the evacuees had extremely dirty habits, and sanitation just did not mean a thing to them. On leaving Prome we could not take supplies of water in the usual way on account of cholera in the district, and we had a dreadful time getting water boiled and filtered. Ordinarily, the steamer’s water tanks are filled with water for drinking etc., but we had to boil and filter every drop before allowing it to be used. We had a huge galvanized iron bath-tub and a supply of good filters, but we had no place to lock them up, and so the filters never got a chance to fill, as the people on the deck were constantly emptying them, and we just could not stop them, try as we might. We certainly had a more that ample supply of provisions, and we had two solid meals a day from tins. We also had tea and chota hazri, which consisted of bread, butter and jam, with tea or coffee.
We had to leave on the Women Evacuee train from Kemmendine Railway Station at 6 p.m. that evening, but it was wise to get to the station early and get accommodation, so John asked me to be ready by 4.30. I was quite ready; in fact I was sitting knitting when he came. We had tea together in the study, and then called the servants we still had, and we explained to them that I was having to go, and that if they wanted help in leaving Rangoon my husband had a pass for each to travel on his staff launch to Mandalay, fed and carried free. The launch was to leave at 6 p.m. The butler, who had only been about a week with us, wanted to stay when he knew that “Master” was not leaving yet, but I pointed out to him that as Master was a ‘last ditcher’ he would not be able to help anyone when the demolition of Rangoon took place, and he might well have difficulty in getting himself out.
So, all the servants received passes and instructions about getting the launch, closing the house and handing over the keys to my husband, and we got into the car and drove off to the station. It is impossible to talk of one’s feelings at such a parting. We each knew full well that we might never meet again, but we did not talk about it, each knowing without words what was in the other’s heart. John went back to the office, and I remained in the waiting room until the train came in.
Then I crossed the line to the other platform, found a carriage had been reserved for Mrs. Brewitt and me, and got my luggage put in. Mrs. Brewitt joined me there, and then Mrs. Mitchell arrived, and we took her in beside us. The train journey to Prome (Pyay) was uneventful, and was reasonably comfortable, and we arrived there in the early hours of Saturday morning.
Luckily, an I. F. Co. steamer was available, and about 8.30 a.m. we got on board – some 300 evacuee women in all, with Mr. Lees of the Burma Railways, and Mr. Warner of the Police with a guard of sepoys. Mr. Healy of the ICS had had the job of getting the provisions for us all put on board, and he asked Mrs. Brewitt and me if we would take charge for the trip to Mandalay. It was fortunate that we had not had time to change out of our WCD uniforms, and that we had taken our extra ones with us on the chance of continuing such work in Upper Burma, as it gave us more authority over the crowd. Some half a dozen of the evacuees assisted us, and we had splendid help from both Mr. Lees and Mr. Warner, who were grand and did all sorts of jobs for us – pleasant and otherwise, and I can never express my gratitude to them for their help and cheer so willingly given during the 4 ½ days of our river trip to Mandalay. We were also very grateful to the other helpers.
It was pretty ghastly at times, as some of the evacuees had extremely dirty habits, and sanitation just did not mean a thing to them. On leaving Prome we could not take supplies of water in the usual way on account of cholera in the district, and we had a dreadful time getting water boiled and filtered. Ordinarily, the steamer’s water tanks are filled with water for drinking etc., but we had to boil and filter every drop before allowing it to be used. We had a huge galvanized iron bath-tub and a supply of good filters, but we had no place to lock them up, and so the filters never got a chance to fill, as the people on the deck were constantly emptying them, and we just could not stop them, try as we might. We certainly had a more that ample supply of provisions, and we had two solid meals a day from tins. We also had tea and chota hazri, which consisted of bread, butter and jam, with tea or coffee.
We called at Thayatmyo, on the opposite bank of the river from Prome, and there Mr. Fortescue came on board to find all he could learn regarding Rangoon and the “E” label. He had had a phone message from Allanmyo on the Prome side, telling him that a steamer with women evacuees was going upriver. I knew Mr. F. and he invited me to come up to his house and have a drink, and he included Mrs. Brewitt. I first made certain of the departure time, and then Mr. F. took us off in his car. It was a relief to sit in his pleasant garden and drink a p & g, and I blessed him. He told us that he had some RAF men staying with him who had been on their way to the Magwe Aerodrome with a bomber but had crashed on the shore in the dusk. They had missed the daily ferry to Magwe through being misinformed of its arrival. I said we would take them there, and I would take the responsibility. I knew John would approve, and as he was Manager of the I. F. Co. that was all that mattered. I told Mr. F. that we already had Messrs. Warner and Leeds as well as the sepoys on board, and that we could give the three lads mattresses and bedding for the night and they could sleep on the lower deck beside the other two men. They were most grateful.
They had been uncertain of their course when above Thayetmyo and had been trying to get into contact with Magwe Aerodrome for instructions but had failed. They saw the sandy stretch of shore and decided to land. They landed alright, but as they slowed down while taxiing over the sand they bumped over a ridge and turned upside down. Had they not been going so slowly they would have ridden it alright, and in the dusk they could not see it in time. The only one of them to be hurt was the observer, and his injuries were slight, and clothes a little torn. We had been asked to take a box of articles which had been completed by the local BWCA work party up with us to the depot at Maymyo, and so the next morning we fished out a garment from the box and got the observer to don it while I mended his shirt. These three lads were grand, and they helped us in every way during their brief stay, washing dishes or opening tins or doing anything which had to be done, and they were so cheerful and such good company! We were very sorry to part with them on reaching Magwe and have often wondered what became of them ultimately. I hope they have been lucky and are still safe.
The first alert we experienced on the trip was when we were tied up at Nyaunghla – the river station for the Yenangyaung oilfields. It was a very unhealthy place to be caught in, and Mr. Warner came to ask me what we ought to do. I advised him first to ask the Steamer Serang (native Captain) what orders he had received from the Prome Agent in such an event, but Mr. Warner returned to tell me there were no orders. I, therefore, took the responsibility of giving orders for our steamer to let go and get out into the river and anchor, as I knew this was the method adopted for such steamers in Rangoon, and anyhow we were uncomfortably near the oil loading part of the ghat. We got out into mid-stream and anchored, and shortly after the big steamer which was just aft of us did likewise, dropping first one of its cargo flats and then the other. When the all clear had sounded we returned to the station flat, and the Captain of the big steamer came on board having heard I was there. We had a chat and he returned to his steamer.
We reached Mandalay on the afternoon of Wednesday, 25th February, and those of the evacuees who had definite plans and places to go to went off. Not long after we had tied up at the foreshore there, there was an alert, so off we went to mid-stream and stayed there till it was over, when we returned. The I. F. Co. Mandalay Agent, Mr. G. A. Macdonald, and our Accountant, Mr. G. H. Paterson, came down to the steamer and we had a talk. I was invited to dine with them at the Agent’s bungalow but refused. By then many of the women had been taken off, but there were still others who could not get away till next day, and Mrs. Brewitt and I volunteered to spend the night on board and look after them.
We went ashore next morning, when Mr. Macdonald very kindly sent his car for us, and went up to his house, where I wanted to pick up a suitcase sent up when my driver and dog went up. I also wanted to get in touch with my driver and get Buster, my dog, to take him with me to Maymyo. There was another alert while I was at the house, and we went to the trench till it was over. I had a cocktail, and then we set off in the car with the suitcase, to try to get Buster. I found the driver and the dog living in the middle of a phongy kyaung (Buddhist priests’ quarters) and Buster nearly ate me. I was glad to see him.
They had been uncertain of their course when above Thayetmyo and had been trying to get into contact with Magwe Aerodrome for instructions but had failed. They saw the sandy stretch of shore and decided to land. They landed alright, but as they slowed down while taxiing over the sand they bumped over a ridge and turned upside down. Had they not been going so slowly they would have ridden it alright, and in the dusk they could not see it in time. The only one of them to be hurt was the observer, and his injuries were slight, and clothes a little torn. We had been asked to take a box of articles which had been completed by the local BWCA work party up with us to the depot at Maymyo, and so the next morning we fished out a garment from the box and got the observer to don it while I mended his shirt. These three lads were grand, and they helped us in every way during their brief stay, washing dishes or opening tins or doing anything which had to be done, and they were so cheerful and such good company! We were very sorry to part with them on reaching Magwe and have often wondered what became of them ultimately. I hope they have been lucky and are still safe.
The first alert we experienced on the trip was when we were tied up at Nyaunghla – the river station for the Yenangyaung oilfields. It was a very unhealthy place to be caught in, and Mr. Warner came to ask me what we ought to do. I advised him first to ask the Steamer Serang (native Captain) what orders he had received from the Prome Agent in such an event, but Mr. Warner returned to tell me there were no orders. I, therefore, took the responsibility of giving orders for our steamer to let go and get out into the river and anchor, as I knew this was the method adopted for such steamers in Rangoon, and anyhow we were uncomfortably near the oil loading part of the ghat. We got out into mid-stream and anchored, and shortly after the big steamer which was just aft of us did likewise, dropping first one of its cargo flats and then the other. When the all clear had sounded we returned to the station flat, and the Captain of the big steamer came on board having heard I was there. We had a chat and he returned to his steamer.
We reached Mandalay on the afternoon of Wednesday, 25th February, and those of the evacuees who had definite plans and places to go to went off. Not long after we had tied up at the foreshore there, there was an alert, so off we went to mid-stream and stayed there till it was over, when we returned. The I. F. Co. Mandalay Agent, Mr. G. A. Macdonald, and our Accountant, Mr. G. H. Paterson, came down to the steamer and we had a talk. I was invited to dine with them at the Agent’s bungalow but refused. By then many of the women had been taken off, but there were still others who could not get away till next day, and Mrs. Brewitt and I volunteered to spend the night on board and look after them.
We went ashore next morning, when Mr. Macdonald very kindly sent his car for us, and went up to his house, where I wanted to pick up a suitcase sent up when my driver and dog went up. I also wanted to get in touch with my driver and get Buster, my dog, to take him with me to Maymyo. There was another alert while I was at the house, and we went to the trench till it was over. I had a cocktail, and then we set off in the car with the suitcase, to try to get Buster. I found the driver and the dog living in the middle of a phongy kyaung (Buddhist priests’ quarters) and Buster nearly ate me. I was glad to see him.
Next, we proceeded to the railway station, where we saw Mr. Lees and found that a carriage had been reserved for us, but there was either no engine or no engine-driver, so we had just to wait. Mrs. Brewitt went over to visit Mr. Coward, and I suggested that Mr. and Mrs. Lees and I might have something to eat, as we had had no breakfast. They heartily agreed, and we opened a tin of corned beef, and divided it onto three plates. I produced some cutlery (which I never saw again) and we had just made a beginning when the wretched siren wailed. I obeyed orders and took Buster to the trench just outside the station, and there we remained with many others for quite a long time. Then I heard a man outside asking if I was there, so I replied, and found it was Mr. Coward looking for me to take me to his house. He had been able to get the promise of a lift by car to Maymyo for Mrs. B. and me, and he said we could take enough luggage for the night. I had not much more but left the suitcase and took only my bedding-roll (which had various things in it). I had to go back to the station to get this.
The American officer who had so kindly agreed to take us up the hill to Maymyo, arrived soon after with two cars, and we got into one with Buster, while the luggage came behind in the other, and started off, quite forgetting that the alert was still on. It would not have made any difference had we thought about it, and we never knew when it ended, as we went right off without any loss of time.
We were dropped at the Maymyo Railways Retiring Rooms, by our request, and thanked the nice man for his kindness. Unfortunately, there was no room for us there, so I waited while Mrs. Brewitt went over to the house of the Chief Railway Commissioner, Radnor, which he had loaned to some of the Railway wives. There she secured a room with a single bed, and one lady kindly said I could have her husband’s camp cot, as he was away at the moment. It was brought up to the bedroom, and I had just got it assembled, when we learned that the husband had returned unexpectedly, so back it went, although they very kindly wanted me to keep it, but I could not have the poor man sleep on the floor, so I slept on the floor myself, with my very thin mattress below me. I did not get much sleep, but at least we had the bedroom and bathroom for the night.
Next morning, we set off optimistically in search of a house, only to discover that such a thing was not to be got. There were plenty of empty houses – that was the trying part of it – but they were either ‘allocated’ for the use of someone who might (or might not) come up from Rangoon, or their owners had locked them up before departing. We then thought we might obtain quarters in Craddock Court – blocks of a sort of service flats – and we went to see the Hon. Justice Dunkley, who had the allocating of them.
There again we had little luck, as we found that they were all already allocated, but Justice Dunkley very kindly gave us a permit to occupy two single flats in one block for two nights while we endeavoured to get fixed up elsewhere.
Finally, we saw the Club Secretary and discovered that one of the new Club semi-detached bungalows was available, but there was only a little furniture to be got, as the railway van with the new stuff for these quarters had gone astray. We arranged to go into the house on the following Tuesday, and the Club Secretary promised us all the necessary bathroom furniture, and what he could find of other stuff, but no curtains. The little bungalow was exactly what we wanted, having two bedrooms, two bathrooms, a nice living room, a good pantry with excellent cupboards, and our own cookhouse outside. As Mrs. Brewitt’s butler, driver and boy were in Maymyo, and the Club supplied the services of a sweeper and paniwallah, this suited us admirably, and we felt quite delighted.
We arranged for the loan of two beds from Miss Young, Matron of the Civil Hospital, which she gladly gave to us on condition that we would return them immediately should they be required for the hospital. They had been left with her by the St. Michael School when it was evacuated.
We went on to resume our work with the Burma War Comforts Association, which was then operating in the lower ballroom of Government House, Maymyo, with Mrs. Milner more or less in charge, and Her Excellency Lady Dorman-Smith going to it daily.
On the Tuesday morning we packed up everything, and went to the Club on our way to the BWCA just to make certain that the Secretary remembered we were arriving that afternoon, and there he informed us that he was terribly sorry, but Mr. Milner had more or less commandeered the twin bungalows of which ours was one, as he said there was a possibility that his own house might be taken by the General. As Mr. Milner and his wife had no children, we could not quite see why he had to grab two houses, but there it was, and once more we were homeless, our term at Craddock Court having expired that day.
We found that another of the bungalows would be ready for occupation in a few days, so we dashed off again to Justice Dunkley who was most sympathetic, and who gave us written permission to remain in our Craddock Court quarters indefinitely on condition that we would vacate them on an hour’s notice if necessary. We thankfully gave our consent to that condition and went on to the BWCA.
We were very disgusted with Mr. Milner for what he had done, especially as he had mentioned to the Club Secretary that he knew that bungalow had been reserved for us and he also knew that we were otherwise homeless. His wife was a friend of ours, but when we mentioned our plight at the BWCA that morning, she did not say she knew anything about it, nor did we mention that we knew who was responsible.
The American officer who had so kindly agreed to take us up the hill to Maymyo, arrived soon after with two cars, and we got into one with Buster, while the luggage came behind in the other, and started off, quite forgetting that the alert was still on. It would not have made any difference had we thought about it, and we never knew when it ended, as we went right off without any loss of time.
We were dropped at the Maymyo Railways Retiring Rooms, by our request, and thanked the nice man for his kindness. Unfortunately, there was no room for us there, so I waited while Mrs. Brewitt went over to the house of the Chief Railway Commissioner, Radnor, which he had loaned to some of the Railway wives. There she secured a room with a single bed, and one lady kindly said I could have her husband’s camp cot, as he was away at the moment. It was brought up to the bedroom, and I had just got it assembled, when we learned that the husband had returned unexpectedly, so back it went, although they very kindly wanted me to keep it, but I could not have the poor man sleep on the floor, so I slept on the floor myself, with my very thin mattress below me. I did not get much sleep, but at least we had the bedroom and bathroom for the night.
Next morning, we set off optimistically in search of a house, only to discover that such a thing was not to be got. There were plenty of empty houses – that was the trying part of it – but they were either ‘allocated’ for the use of someone who might (or might not) come up from Rangoon, or their owners had locked them up before departing. We then thought we might obtain quarters in Craddock Court – blocks of a sort of service flats – and we went to see the Hon. Justice Dunkley, who had the allocating of them.
There again we had little luck, as we found that they were all already allocated, but Justice Dunkley very kindly gave us a permit to occupy two single flats in one block for two nights while we endeavoured to get fixed up elsewhere.
Finally, we saw the Club Secretary and discovered that one of the new Club semi-detached bungalows was available, but there was only a little furniture to be got, as the railway van with the new stuff for these quarters had gone astray. We arranged to go into the house on the following Tuesday, and the Club Secretary promised us all the necessary bathroom furniture, and what he could find of other stuff, but no curtains. The little bungalow was exactly what we wanted, having two bedrooms, two bathrooms, a nice living room, a good pantry with excellent cupboards, and our own cookhouse outside. As Mrs. Brewitt’s butler, driver and boy were in Maymyo, and the Club supplied the services of a sweeper and paniwallah, this suited us admirably, and we felt quite delighted.
We arranged for the loan of two beds from Miss Young, Matron of the Civil Hospital, which she gladly gave to us on condition that we would return them immediately should they be required for the hospital. They had been left with her by the St. Michael School when it was evacuated.
We went on to resume our work with the Burma War Comforts Association, which was then operating in the lower ballroom of Government House, Maymyo, with Mrs. Milner more or less in charge, and Her Excellency Lady Dorman-Smith going to it daily.
On the Tuesday morning we packed up everything, and went to the Club on our way to the BWCA just to make certain that the Secretary remembered we were arriving that afternoon, and there he informed us that he was terribly sorry, but Mr. Milner had more or less commandeered the twin bungalows of which ours was one, as he said there was a possibility that his own house might be taken by the General. As Mr. Milner and his wife had no children, we could not quite see why he had to grab two houses, but there it was, and once more we were homeless, our term at Craddock Court having expired that day.
We found that another of the bungalows would be ready for occupation in a few days, so we dashed off again to Justice Dunkley who was most sympathetic, and who gave us written permission to remain in our Craddock Court quarters indefinitely on condition that we would vacate them on an hour’s notice if necessary. We thankfully gave our consent to that condition and went on to the BWCA.
We were very disgusted with Mr. Milner for what he had done, especially as he had mentioned to the Club Secretary that he knew that bungalow had been reserved for us and he also knew that we were otherwise homeless. His wife was a friend of ours, but when we mentioned our plight at the BWCA that morning, she did not say she knew anything about it, nor did we mention that we knew who was responsible.
On our return to Craddock Court, we set about unpacking and getting a meal. The evening before the day on which we were due to get into the Club bungalow, we walked along to the Club to make certain that all was well this time, and on the way, we ran into the Milners. In talking to them I mentioned that someone had pinched our bungalow, and Mr. M. quite brazenly said that he had done it, but that he would not want the houses after all as his own was not being taken. He had not had the decency to let us know either, although we saw his wife every day. So, we continued to the Club and arranged with the Secretary that we would occupy the original bungalow planned for us the next day, which we did.
The Club Secretary was very kind and so was his wife, and they gave us enough furniture to enable us to be comfortable enough, as well as some cushions, and we got the beds brought in. We bought curtain material and what we required in the way of crockery and glasses – as few as possible, naturally – and felt that at last we could pretend we had a home again. I borrowed one of the sewing machines from the BWCA and got all the curtains made during the weekend and settled down to wait for news of our respective husbands.
The Club Secretary was very kind and so was his wife, and they gave us enough furniture to enable us to be comfortable enough, as well as some cushions, and we got the beds brought in. We bought curtain material and what we required in the way of crockery and glasses – as few as possible, naturally – and felt that at last we could pretend we had a home again. I borrowed one of the sewing machines from the BWCA and got all the curtains made during the weekend and settled down to wait for news of our respective husbands.
Maymyo, Upper Burma
8th March 1942
My Dearest Lillie,
I’m sure you have been most anxious as to our wellbeing, and it has been dreadful not to be able to get letters through to Rangoon. But I have just heard that one may get them by air via Lashio, so I’m trying that, and I sincerely hope you will get it. We have tried to cable, and I left another one ready to send when I left Rangoon. On February 20th we (Civil Defense Women) were ordered out of Rangoon on two- or three-hours’ notice and had to catch the 6 p.m. women evacuees’ train. We were allowed only a bedding-roll, one small case of personal clothing, and had to take a plate, cup, knife, fork and spoon. John dropped me at Belmont to pack and came back and snatched some tea and gave all our remaining servants passes to evacuate upriver on our staff launch and paid them well for having stayed with us. They locked the house and went to their quarters to pack, and we went to the Station – John with the door key! John saw me to the waiting room and there we parted, and I have not had a letter from him since. Once or twice messages have been broadcast from him and by him, but unfortunately, I had no wireless and now, when I have one, there were no messages last night.
The other day a friend who was going down by road to Rangoon took letters. He has just been in to tell me he couldn’t contact John. John had evidently been to Prome, Magwe and Yunangyaung, and back to Prome. The Magwe people took the letters and said they’d get them to John. So, I’m still without word, and I was counting so much on this man seeing John and getting a letter. It is all very awful! John is a ‘twelfth-hour’ man and stays to the end. I just hope and pray he will be all right and that Rangoon will not fall. I don’t think it will, but everything is very distressing, and one simply has to prepare for anything, while hoping for the best.
Margaret Brewitt and I came up by train to Prome and from there to Mandalay by I. F. Co. steamer. There were over 200 evacuee women on board but no official in charge, so we got the job. There was a senior Police Official and a guard of some 60 Sepoys, and one of the railway officials travelled with us to Mandalay. These two men were topping and did all sorts of jobs for us without a murmur – in fact they were most excellent company. There were a few willing helpers among the evacuees, but the rest were unhelpful and had disgustingly dirty habits. Food was provided for the trip (in tins) and we had to organize it all. Well, we had 4 ½ days on the steamer and were most thankful to get off it. While we were at Yenangyaung and alongside the ghat, the sirens went, so I gave orders to move into mid-stream, where we remained until the all clear went, and then we went alongside again. We got into Mandalay about 8.30 p.m. one day and again were not long there before the sirens went. Again, we went into mid-stream till all was over. There were no ‘planes nor bombs. Next forenoon we went ashore and we two drove to the I. F. [Irrawaddy Flotilla] House, where Mr. G.A. Macdonald is now. There was an alert and we proceeded to the trench till it was over.
I found our big car had got up safely by road and my Buster (Spaniel dog) in it. We had sent the driver up with the car in an effort to save it, as our other had been commandeered ages ago. I found where my driver was staying and collected Buster and brought him here, leaving driver and car in Mandalay. Up here we found it almost impossible to get accommodation, and I slept on my bedding on the floor the first night. Then we got temporary quarters at Craddock Court, and have not got into new quarters at the Club. They are very compact and just right for two. We have a good living-room with a nice brick fireplace, a pantry well fitted with cupboards, 2 bedrooms and 2 bathrooms and a cookhouse.
So we might be much worse off. The awful business is lack of contact with the men and not knowing where or how they are! News is scarce and this place abounds with rumors and jittery people. I managed at last (to-day) to have a cable accepted for dispatch to you and I hope it won’t be much delayed, but they warned me it might be slow; but that cannot be avoided.
I do not think there is other news. We have been doing Burma War Comforts work in the forenoons, but it is interrupted as we were asked to do Canteen work for the Chinese troops passing through. So now we go to the Station and give them food etc. while the trains are in, and they are most grateful and very happy, with rosy cheeks and good teeth.
I must get this posted and hope it will reach you safely.
You are in my heart and mind so much! No letters come through and no mail had come into Rangoon.
Will you please let the boys read this? I’ll only enclose a note to each. I can’t write about it all anymore.
M.
8th March 1942
My Dearest Lillie,
I’m sure you have been most anxious as to our wellbeing, and it has been dreadful not to be able to get letters through to Rangoon. But I have just heard that one may get them by air via Lashio, so I’m trying that, and I sincerely hope you will get it. We have tried to cable, and I left another one ready to send when I left Rangoon. On February 20th we (Civil Defense Women) were ordered out of Rangoon on two- or three-hours’ notice and had to catch the 6 p.m. women evacuees’ train. We were allowed only a bedding-roll, one small case of personal clothing, and had to take a plate, cup, knife, fork and spoon. John dropped me at Belmont to pack and came back and snatched some tea and gave all our remaining servants passes to evacuate upriver on our staff launch and paid them well for having stayed with us. They locked the house and went to their quarters to pack, and we went to the Station – John with the door key! John saw me to the waiting room and there we parted, and I have not had a letter from him since. Once or twice messages have been broadcast from him and by him, but unfortunately, I had no wireless and now, when I have one, there were no messages last night.
The other day a friend who was going down by road to Rangoon took letters. He has just been in to tell me he couldn’t contact John. John had evidently been to Prome, Magwe and Yunangyaung, and back to Prome. The Magwe people took the letters and said they’d get them to John. So, I’m still without word, and I was counting so much on this man seeing John and getting a letter. It is all very awful! John is a ‘twelfth-hour’ man and stays to the end. I just hope and pray he will be all right and that Rangoon will not fall. I don’t think it will, but everything is very distressing, and one simply has to prepare for anything, while hoping for the best.
Margaret Brewitt and I came up by train to Prome and from there to Mandalay by I. F. Co. steamer. There were over 200 evacuee women on board but no official in charge, so we got the job. There was a senior Police Official and a guard of some 60 Sepoys, and one of the railway officials travelled with us to Mandalay. These two men were topping and did all sorts of jobs for us without a murmur – in fact they were most excellent company. There were a few willing helpers among the evacuees, but the rest were unhelpful and had disgustingly dirty habits. Food was provided for the trip (in tins) and we had to organize it all. Well, we had 4 ½ days on the steamer and were most thankful to get off it. While we were at Yenangyaung and alongside the ghat, the sirens went, so I gave orders to move into mid-stream, where we remained until the all clear went, and then we went alongside again. We got into Mandalay about 8.30 p.m. one day and again were not long there before the sirens went. Again, we went into mid-stream till all was over. There were no ‘planes nor bombs. Next forenoon we went ashore and we two drove to the I. F. [Irrawaddy Flotilla] House, where Mr. G.A. Macdonald is now. There was an alert and we proceeded to the trench till it was over.
I found our big car had got up safely by road and my Buster (Spaniel dog) in it. We had sent the driver up with the car in an effort to save it, as our other had been commandeered ages ago. I found where my driver was staying and collected Buster and brought him here, leaving driver and car in Mandalay. Up here we found it almost impossible to get accommodation, and I slept on my bedding on the floor the first night. Then we got temporary quarters at Craddock Court, and have not got into new quarters at the Club. They are very compact and just right for two. We have a good living-room with a nice brick fireplace, a pantry well fitted with cupboards, 2 bedrooms and 2 bathrooms and a cookhouse.
So we might be much worse off. The awful business is lack of contact with the men and not knowing where or how they are! News is scarce and this place abounds with rumors and jittery people. I managed at last (to-day) to have a cable accepted for dispatch to you and I hope it won’t be much delayed, but they warned me it might be slow; but that cannot be avoided.
I do not think there is other news. We have been doing Burma War Comforts work in the forenoons, but it is interrupted as we were asked to do Canteen work for the Chinese troops passing through. So now we go to the Station and give them food etc. while the trains are in, and they are most grateful and very happy, with rosy cheeks and good teeth.
I must get this posted and hope it will reach you safely.
You are in my heart and mind so much! No letters come through and no mail had come into Rangoon.
Will you please let the boys read this? I’ll only enclose a note to each. I can’t write about it all anymore.
M.
Mrs. Brewitt then heard from her husband, who was out of Rangoon at that time, and on March 6th Rangoon fell. I looked for news of my husband for days, but no word came, and I was forced to the decision that if he had got out at all, he must have had to get out via deep sea steamer and gone to Calcutta.
These were very anxious days, but we tried to keep employed and as we had been asked to do canteen work at Maymyo Railway Station for the various trains carrying Chinese troops to the front, we had not a great deal of free time since we continued to work at the BWCA each forenoon unless required at the Station. As trains were running all askew, we never knew much beforehand when we would have to be at the Station, but we managed alright, and the soldiers – many of them just laddies – were most grateful and very nice. Sometimes their officers would try to tell us how grateful they were in their broken English or through an interpreter.
These Chinese soldiers preferred their canteens filled with scalding water rather than tea, and they drank gallons of that. They also sometimes put their own green tea into the canteens.
One Saturday, after we had returned from the station and were at tiffin, John suddenly appeared, and my relief and joy can be imagined. I then learned that the Military authorities in Rangoon had thought that things were looking better, and they asked John, who was Director of Inland Water Transport for Burma, if he would bring back to Rangoon some of the steamers which had been sent away for safety and for the use of the Army & evacuees up the river a bit. They flew my husband to Magwe in an Army plane, and he got the required steamers and started back with them. However, at one of the delta villages he received instructions to turn and get back to Prome, as the end had come in Rangoon, and the delta was unsafe. As he had promised two of his office men that a steamer or launch would wait for them at Maubin till a certain number of hours after the fall of Rangoon (should it fall in his absence) he continued to Maubin on one boat and sent the others back to Prome. He waited at Maubin for twelve hours longer than had been fixed, and then concluded that if his men had got out, they must have had to get out by deep sea ship, so he then returned to Prome and came up by road to Mandalay, where his office then was established.
He reached Mandalay on a Friday night, and Mr. G. A. Macdonald, our Mandalay Agent, told him that he had enquired for me at the Maymyo Club that very day, and had been told that Mrs. Brewitt and I had left that morning for Shwebo to fly to India. While John was thankful that I had taken his advice and had left for India, he was very disappointed at having missed seeing me by so narrow a margin.
On that Saturday he had been sent for by the Governor of Burma to come and see him in Maymyo, and when near the Railway Station he had gone in and asked the Stationmaster – Mr. Wright - if he knew if Mrs. Brewitt had gone off to Shwebo. (Mr. Brewitt was Burma Railways.) Mr. Wright said she had not, and then John asked if he knew if I had gone, and Mr. Wright was able to tell him that we had both been at the station canteening Chinese troops not an hour before, so my husband got our address and found us.
As John’s headquarters were then in Mandalay and there was no place there for me to stay, I remained with Mrs. Brewitt in Maymyo, and saw him very seldom, about three times when he came up for conferences and twice when I went down to Mandalay for an hour, so we had little opportunity to discuss past, present or future affairs. He was agitating for me to get out and Lt.-Col. Brewitt (most of the Railways men took military rank) was likewise agitating for his wife to get out, so when we received orders from Army Headquarters that we had to get out of Burma, we immediately agreed to do so, and I wrote to the CNAC (China National Aviation Corporation) office in Lashio, and asked for seats for us both on a plane leaving on or about 3rd April. We were lucky enough to get these seats and Sir John Rowland very kindly agreed to put us up while we were in Lashio. I did not try to get booked through the Government scheme, as I had not a very high opinion of it and, if we went independently, I thought we had a better chance of having no alterations made.
So, we packed for air travel, and as I had very little more than that in Maymyo it was not difficult to decide what to take and what to leave. It is amusing what one takes on such occasions as that of my leaving Rangoon in a hurry and very probably for good, and when I was getting something out of a cupboard, I saw my pretty large stock of Morny soap, and thought it might as well go in my bedding-valise – which it did. I had also put in there my big lot of knitting needles of all sizes, and an absolutely new breadknife which I thought might be useful on the way up the river, but which I actually never used. When packing to go to India I felt I could not part from my soap and knitting needles, so I put them all into my attaché case, as they were a considerable weight. (In Kashmir, I found that I had also put in the breadknife!!)
We were to leave Maymyo for Lashio by rail on Wednesday 1st April, and my husband had expected to be in Maymyo on the precious Sunday and was to have tiffin with us. However, Messrs. Dry and Paterson of our firm came instead and informed us that John had had to go back to Prome by car with Colonel Biddulph, and they were afraid he could not possibly manage back in time to see me before I left. This was indeed a blow for me, but I felt sure that they would do their utmost to manage it, as Col. Biddulph was so nice always. John did come up on the Tuesday, and we had a brief hour together before saying goodbye again.
That goodbye was not easy, and we both well knew that we would be lucky if we met again, as things were going badly for our troops then. However, it had to be got through, and we parted, John hoped he might be in Maymyo again the next day and manage to see me again, but he just missed me – our train having just gone when he reached the station, and as he said in the only letter I had after that from Burma, it was perhaps just as well, as he had felt the previous parting so much, and I thought so too.
That afternoon we had our luggage and ourselves transferred to the Chief Railway Commissioner’s coach, in which we were to travel to Lashio, which was at a siding up near Randor. Col. Brewitt slept the night in the carriage and Col. Prendergast – also Railways – slept in the neighboring coach and fed with us. Next forenoon our carriage was moved to the railway station and attached to the train, and Toby Williamson, whom we were taking with us to Lashio, joined us. Mrs. Williamson and Mrs. Brewitt said goodbye to their husbands, and we set off.
While our train was stopped at a little station that afternoon I was hailed from the track, and there were the two I. F. Co. men whom my husband had waited for at Maubin, and who had got out to Calcutta and were returning by air and rail to join him. I was glad to see them, but we only had a moment or two to chat as one of the trains pulled out.
After we had got to bed that night and were just asleep, we stopped at a station and a voice hailed Mrs. Brewitt with “Margaret, Margaret”. I wakened her, and we found it was a Mr. Rose, late of the Railways, who was travelling to Lashio with his wife in a carriage attached to the goods train which had left ahead of us. He said that Lashio had been heavily bombed and it was useless to go on; that the station and the aerodrome were practically wiped out. He advised us to get our carriage off the train and attached with his to an engine and brake-van which were returning to Maymyo. We three discussed it and decided to continue to Lashio. We knew how rumors grow, and especially about air raids, and we thought that if it had been inadvisable for us to continue, Sir John Rowland would have sent a message down the line. We thanked Mr. Rose but said we would carry on and see. We did so and found the station alright, and the aerodrome, so we were thankful that we had not gone back.
These were very anxious days, but we tried to keep employed and as we had been asked to do canteen work at Maymyo Railway Station for the various trains carrying Chinese troops to the front, we had not a great deal of free time since we continued to work at the BWCA each forenoon unless required at the Station. As trains were running all askew, we never knew much beforehand when we would have to be at the Station, but we managed alright, and the soldiers – many of them just laddies – were most grateful and very nice. Sometimes their officers would try to tell us how grateful they were in their broken English or through an interpreter.
These Chinese soldiers preferred their canteens filled with scalding water rather than tea, and they drank gallons of that. They also sometimes put their own green tea into the canteens.
One Saturday, after we had returned from the station and were at tiffin, John suddenly appeared, and my relief and joy can be imagined. I then learned that the Military authorities in Rangoon had thought that things were looking better, and they asked John, who was Director of Inland Water Transport for Burma, if he would bring back to Rangoon some of the steamers which had been sent away for safety and for the use of the Army & evacuees up the river a bit. They flew my husband to Magwe in an Army plane, and he got the required steamers and started back with them. However, at one of the delta villages he received instructions to turn and get back to Prome, as the end had come in Rangoon, and the delta was unsafe. As he had promised two of his office men that a steamer or launch would wait for them at Maubin till a certain number of hours after the fall of Rangoon (should it fall in his absence) he continued to Maubin on one boat and sent the others back to Prome. He waited at Maubin for twelve hours longer than had been fixed, and then concluded that if his men had got out, they must have had to get out by deep sea ship, so he then returned to Prome and came up by road to Mandalay, where his office then was established.
He reached Mandalay on a Friday night, and Mr. G. A. Macdonald, our Mandalay Agent, told him that he had enquired for me at the Maymyo Club that very day, and had been told that Mrs. Brewitt and I had left that morning for Shwebo to fly to India. While John was thankful that I had taken his advice and had left for India, he was very disappointed at having missed seeing me by so narrow a margin.
On that Saturday he had been sent for by the Governor of Burma to come and see him in Maymyo, and when near the Railway Station he had gone in and asked the Stationmaster – Mr. Wright - if he knew if Mrs. Brewitt had gone off to Shwebo. (Mr. Brewitt was Burma Railways.) Mr. Wright said she had not, and then John asked if he knew if I had gone, and Mr. Wright was able to tell him that we had both been at the station canteening Chinese troops not an hour before, so my husband got our address and found us.
As John’s headquarters were then in Mandalay and there was no place there for me to stay, I remained with Mrs. Brewitt in Maymyo, and saw him very seldom, about three times when he came up for conferences and twice when I went down to Mandalay for an hour, so we had little opportunity to discuss past, present or future affairs. He was agitating for me to get out and Lt.-Col. Brewitt (most of the Railways men took military rank) was likewise agitating for his wife to get out, so when we received orders from Army Headquarters that we had to get out of Burma, we immediately agreed to do so, and I wrote to the CNAC (China National Aviation Corporation) office in Lashio, and asked for seats for us both on a plane leaving on or about 3rd April. We were lucky enough to get these seats and Sir John Rowland very kindly agreed to put us up while we were in Lashio. I did not try to get booked through the Government scheme, as I had not a very high opinion of it and, if we went independently, I thought we had a better chance of having no alterations made.
So, we packed for air travel, and as I had very little more than that in Maymyo it was not difficult to decide what to take and what to leave. It is amusing what one takes on such occasions as that of my leaving Rangoon in a hurry and very probably for good, and when I was getting something out of a cupboard, I saw my pretty large stock of Morny soap, and thought it might as well go in my bedding-valise – which it did. I had also put in there my big lot of knitting needles of all sizes, and an absolutely new breadknife which I thought might be useful on the way up the river, but which I actually never used. When packing to go to India I felt I could not part from my soap and knitting needles, so I put them all into my attaché case, as they were a considerable weight. (In Kashmir, I found that I had also put in the breadknife!!)
We were to leave Maymyo for Lashio by rail on Wednesday 1st April, and my husband had expected to be in Maymyo on the precious Sunday and was to have tiffin with us. However, Messrs. Dry and Paterson of our firm came instead and informed us that John had had to go back to Prome by car with Colonel Biddulph, and they were afraid he could not possibly manage back in time to see me before I left. This was indeed a blow for me, but I felt sure that they would do their utmost to manage it, as Col. Biddulph was so nice always. John did come up on the Tuesday, and we had a brief hour together before saying goodbye again.
That goodbye was not easy, and we both well knew that we would be lucky if we met again, as things were going badly for our troops then. However, it had to be got through, and we parted, John hoped he might be in Maymyo again the next day and manage to see me again, but he just missed me – our train having just gone when he reached the station, and as he said in the only letter I had after that from Burma, it was perhaps just as well, as he had felt the previous parting so much, and I thought so too.
That afternoon we had our luggage and ourselves transferred to the Chief Railway Commissioner’s coach, in which we were to travel to Lashio, which was at a siding up near Randor. Col. Brewitt slept the night in the carriage and Col. Prendergast – also Railways – slept in the neighboring coach and fed with us. Next forenoon our carriage was moved to the railway station and attached to the train, and Toby Williamson, whom we were taking with us to Lashio, joined us. Mrs. Williamson and Mrs. Brewitt said goodbye to their husbands, and we set off.
While our train was stopped at a little station that afternoon I was hailed from the track, and there were the two I. F. Co. men whom my husband had waited for at Maubin, and who had got out to Calcutta and were returning by air and rail to join him. I was glad to see them, but we only had a moment or two to chat as one of the trains pulled out.
After we had got to bed that night and were just asleep, we stopped at a station and a voice hailed Mrs. Brewitt with “Margaret, Margaret”. I wakened her, and we found it was a Mr. Rose, late of the Railways, who was travelling to Lashio with his wife in a carriage attached to the goods train which had left ahead of us. He said that Lashio had been heavily bombed and it was useless to go on; that the station and the aerodrome were practically wiped out. He advised us to get our carriage off the train and attached with his to an engine and brake-van which were returning to Maymyo. We three discussed it and decided to continue to Lashio. We knew how rumors grow, and especially about air raids, and we thought that if it had been inadvisable for us to continue, Sir John Rowland would have sent a message down the line. We thanked Mr. Rose but said we would carry on and see. We did so and found the station alright, and the aerodrome, so we were thankful that we had not gone back.
Sir john met us and took us to his bungalow, and he told us all about the two raids on Lashio on succeeding days. We had known Sir John for a long time, as he had formerly been Chief Railway Commissioner for the Burma Railways. He was very kind to us and gave us each a nice big bedroom and a bathroom.
After breakfast he drove us to the CNAC where we met with every courtesy and got arrangements fixed. Sir John then took us to see the huge bomb craters in his Burma/China Railway Construction compound. I had hoped to be able to buy cigarettes in Lashio as they had been unprocurable in Maymyo. However, when I found the fellow wanted Rs9/- for a tin of 50, I advised him to smoke them himself as he must be better able to afford it than I was. Sir John was very surprised that a mere woman was sufficiently strong-minded to refuse – whatever the price - and I was much amused.
Just after we had got into bed that night the sirens wailed, and so we had to get up, put on coats and go to the trench. However, as the seats in the trench were cut out of the earth, I decided they were too damp and went up to sit on the veranda steps nearby, ready to dash to the trench if planes came over. But nothing more happened, and after an hour and a half the all clear went and we returned to bed and had peace for the rest of the night.
The next evening at 7 o’clock our plane took off. The seats were far from comfortable, as it was one which had been converted for troop carrying, and the seats were right along the sides of the plane and were made of metal - you can imagine how hard they were. The journey was uneventful, and the passengers behaved very well. We had a thunder, lightning and rain storm and got rather a buffeting, but we landed safely at Dum Dum, on the outskirts of Calcutta, after 3 ½ hours’ travelling.
There we were dealt with by the Customs and I got my Cine Kodak camera back. I had handed it over at Lashio and was given a receipt for it and the camera was brought over by the pilot of the plane. It had been examined to make certain that there was no film in it (it had hurt me to remove the 100 yard color film partly taken which had been in it, but I knew it must go and had taken it out in Johnnie Rowland’s house.), and they had wired and sealed it in Lashio. However, I was glad to save the camera since I had got it as far as Mandalay, and there was little else I had saved.
The Dum Dum Aerodrome staff and Customs people were very kind and helpful, and did not delay unduly, and we were soon in a taxi on our way to a Calcutta hotel. The aerodrome people had even phoned to the Great Eastern Hotel to see if they could give us accommodation and told us it was alright. On reaching the hotel I found that Mrs. Brewitt and I had to share a double bedroom and bathroom, but after having slept on floors in Maymyo, this was less of a hardship than it might have been. It just happens that I dislike intensely having to share a bedroom.
After breakfast he drove us to the CNAC where we met with every courtesy and got arrangements fixed. Sir John then took us to see the huge bomb craters in his Burma/China Railway Construction compound. I had hoped to be able to buy cigarettes in Lashio as they had been unprocurable in Maymyo. However, when I found the fellow wanted Rs9/- for a tin of 50, I advised him to smoke them himself as he must be better able to afford it than I was. Sir John was very surprised that a mere woman was sufficiently strong-minded to refuse – whatever the price - and I was much amused.
Just after we had got into bed that night the sirens wailed, and so we had to get up, put on coats and go to the trench. However, as the seats in the trench were cut out of the earth, I decided they were too damp and went up to sit on the veranda steps nearby, ready to dash to the trench if planes came over. But nothing more happened, and after an hour and a half the all clear went and we returned to bed and had peace for the rest of the night.
The next evening at 7 o’clock our plane took off. The seats were far from comfortable, as it was one which had been converted for troop carrying, and the seats were right along the sides of the plane and were made of metal - you can imagine how hard they were. The journey was uneventful, and the passengers behaved very well. We had a thunder, lightning and rain storm and got rather a buffeting, but we landed safely at Dum Dum, on the outskirts of Calcutta, after 3 ½ hours’ travelling.
There we were dealt with by the Customs and I got my Cine Kodak camera back. I had handed it over at Lashio and was given a receipt for it and the camera was brought over by the pilot of the plane. It had been examined to make certain that there was no film in it (it had hurt me to remove the 100 yard color film partly taken which had been in it, but I knew it must go and had taken it out in Johnnie Rowland’s house.), and they had wired and sealed it in Lashio. However, I was glad to save the camera since I had got it as far as Mandalay, and there was little else I had saved.
The Dum Dum Aerodrome staff and Customs people were very kind and helpful, and did not delay unduly, and we were soon in a taxi on our way to a Calcutta hotel. The aerodrome people had even phoned to the Great Eastern Hotel to see if they could give us accommodation and told us it was alright. On reaching the hotel I found that Mrs. Brewitt and I had to share a double bedroom and bathroom, but after having slept on floors in Maymyo, this was less of a hardship than it might have been. It just happens that I dislike intensely having to share a bedroom.
I signed us in in the hotel register and ordered a meal, and we went to the dining-room and had an excellent cold supper. It was by then after 11.30 p.m. and we were very tired, so got to bed at once. I had second turn of the bathroom and was just opening up the blackout shutters after putting out the lights, when a siren wailed. I felt really peeved, having had the same thing the precious night so many miles away, but once more we got into coats and sallied forth. We had been far too tired to try to unpack, so had not our dressing-gowns handy, and we knew too much about raids to dally on our way.
On leaving our bedroom, we found that our corridor was a cul de sac, and the only ways down from it were by the lift or by a circular iron staircase – sort of fire escape. As the lift had gone off at once when the siren went, we had no choice, and so we set off down the iron staircase and reached the lounge in which everyone had congregated. There we met masses of Burma people, and it was strange to see them in such different surroundings to those where we usually met. They had all come over before us. When the all clear sounded we returned to bed and had no more disturbance till chota hazri arrived next morning. It was bad luck for us that we happened to be in Lashio and then in Calcutta when they had their first night alerts, and we decided that the sooner we were where there were no sirens the better we would be pleased.
As we had arrived in Calcutta on Good Friday night, we could not get any business done until the following Tuesday when the offices and banks would re-open, so we just got on with what shopping we could do.
John had asked me to be sure to get into touch with George Hawes, one of our friends who lived in Calcutta and who had kindly sent word to John offering to put me up if I came over. I did not mean to take advantage of the invitation since I had Mrs. B. with me and we had got accommodation in the hotel, but I did want to see him, as we were very fond of him. Happily, when I was sitting in the lounge before lunch with some friends, George came into the hotel. I exclaimed “George Hawes”, and he turned and saw me. I had risen at once and he simply grabbed me and kissed me there and then in the well-filled lounge. I did not mind at all, as it was such a nice thing to feel one was welcomed so genuinely. George had one of his office men, Gilmont Wylie, with him, and they had just dropped in to have a drink before going for lunch, so they joined our party. George insisted that Margaret B. and I should lunch with him, and they phoned for Margaret Wylie (Gilmont Wylie’s wife, whom John knew and liked very much and had told me of) to join us at Calcutta’s most popular lunchrooms.
George took us in his car and we had a delightful lunch, and I found Margaret Wylie exactly as John had said – a dear lassie, entirely natural and charming. The Wylies are both Scots so it was easy for us to know one another. Margaret proved most kind and helpful to us and did good service in our shopping expeditions. I saw a great deal of these three during the week we had to be in Calcutta and shall always be very grateful for all the kindness they showed to us. They included Margaret B. in everything, too. She had no friends in Calcutta and was very thankful for their kindness.
Having got a houseboat in Srinagar (Kashmir) booked, and all our other arrangements made, we left Calcutta by train on the evening of 11th April, and George Hawes and the Wylies came and saw us off. George presented to me a bottle of Whisky and two tins of ????? which he knew I had been trying to get, and he gave Margaret B. a pound of “Margaret” blend tea, for which she was grateful as she adores tea, which I never drink at all.
The journey to Lahore was very hot and dirty, but not as uncomfortable as it might have been. We had breakfast in the Station Restaurant at Lahore, and it was excellent. We were lucky enough to get an air-conditioned coupe from Lahore to Rawalpindi, and reached Flashman’s Hotel there, where we had rooms already booked, in good time in the evening. We each had sitting-room, bedroom and bathroom, and I felt more comfortably housed than I had been for a long time. My first need was to wash my hair, and while it dried with a table fan blowing on it, I wrote some urgent Guide letters which resulted from a telephone conversation I had had the morning I was leaving Calcutta. I also washed the towels I had used in the train, as they were so black I had not the cheek or courage to give them as they were to a strange dhobi. I finished my letters, bathed and dressed and went in for an excellent dinner. As we were to start by car for Srinagar at 7.30 a.m. we went early to bed.
Next morning, we were up betimes and set off on the last lap of our long journey. The car was very comfortable, and we had a good and careful driver. The scenery was lovely, and it was a real rest to my weary soul to catch my first glimpse of the high hills in the distance. As we progressed the scenery became truly grand, with lovely pine trees covering the steep hillsides, and we ascended very quickly to over 7, 000 feet. We had quite a good lunch in a Dak Bungalow on the way and were soon on our way again.
We reached our houseboat, “King’s House”, about 5 p.m. and found it most attractive with tea all set and ready. The houseboat owner, the moment he knew I did not drink tea, had coffee prepared for me, and we did full justice to the excellent tea, with home-baked scones etc. “King’s House” has a delightful sitting-room, a dining-room, pantry, three bedrooms and three bathrooms, and we loved it at once.
On leaving our bedroom, we found that our corridor was a cul de sac, and the only ways down from it were by the lift or by a circular iron staircase – sort of fire escape. As the lift had gone off at once when the siren went, we had no choice, and so we set off down the iron staircase and reached the lounge in which everyone had congregated. There we met masses of Burma people, and it was strange to see them in such different surroundings to those where we usually met. They had all come over before us. When the all clear sounded we returned to bed and had no more disturbance till chota hazri arrived next morning. It was bad luck for us that we happened to be in Lashio and then in Calcutta when they had their first night alerts, and we decided that the sooner we were where there were no sirens the better we would be pleased.
As we had arrived in Calcutta on Good Friday night, we could not get any business done until the following Tuesday when the offices and banks would re-open, so we just got on with what shopping we could do.
John had asked me to be sure to get into touch with George Hawes, one of our friends who lived in Calcutta and who had kindly sent word to John offering to put me up if I came over. I did not mean to take advantage of the invitation since I had Mrs. B. with me and we had got accommodation in the hotel, but I did want to see him, as we were very fond of him. Happily, when I was sitting in the lounge before lunch with some friends, George came into the hotel. I exclaimed “George Hawes”, and he turned and saw me. I had risen at once and he simply grabbed me and kissed me there and then in the well-filled lounge. I did not mind at all, as it was such a nice thing to feel one was welcomed so genuinely. George had one of his office men, Gilmont Wylie, with him, and they had just dropped in to have a drink before going for lunch, so they joined our party. George insisted that Margaret B. and I should lunch with him, and they phoned for Margaret Wylie (Gilmont Wylie’s wife, whom John knew and liked very much and had told me of) to join us at Calcutta’s most popular lunchrooms.
George took us in his car and we had a delightful lunch, and I found Margaret Wylie exactly as John had said – a dear lassie, entirely natural and charming. The Wylies are both Scots so it was easy for us to know one another. Margaret proved most kind and helpful to us and did good service in our shopping expeditions. I saw a great deal of these three during the week we had to be in Calcutta and shall always be very grateful for all the kindness they showed to us. They included Margaret B. in everything, too. She had no friends in Calcutta and was very thankful for their kindness.
Having got a houseboat in Srinagar (Kashmir) booked, and all our other arrangements made, we left Calcutta by train on the evening of 11th April, and George Hawes and the Wylies came and saw us off. George presented to me a bottle of Whisky and two tins of ????? which he knew I had been trying to get, and he gave Margaret B. a pound of “Margaret” blend tea, for which she was grateful as she adores tea, which I never drink at all.
The journey to Lahore was very hot and dirty, but not as uncomfortable as it might have been. We had breakfast in the Station Restaurant at Lahore, and it was excellent. We were lucky enough to get an air-conditioned coupe from Lahore to Rawalpindi, and reached Flashman’s Hotel there, where we had rooms already booked, in good time in the evening. We each had sitting-room, bedroom and bathroom, and I felt more comfortably housed than I had been for a long time. My first need was to wash my hair, and while it dried with a table fan blowing on it, I wrote some urgent Guide letters which resulted from a telephone conversation I had had the morning I was leaving Calcutta. I also washed the towels I had used in the train, as they were so black I had not the cheek or courage to give them as they were to a strange dhobi. I finished my letters, bathed and dressed and went in for an excellent dinner. As we were to start by car for Srinagar at 7.30 a.m. we went early to bed.
Next morning, we were up betimes and set off on the last lap of our long journey. The car was very comfortable, and we had a good and careful driver. The scenery was lovely, and it was a real rest to my weary soul to catch my first glimpse of the high hills in the distance. As we progressed the scenery became truly grand, with lovely pine trees covering the steep hillsides, and we ascended very quickly to over 7, 000 feet. We had quite a good lunch in a Dak Bungalow on the way and were soon on our way again.
We reached our houseboat, “King’s House”, about 5 p.m. and found it most attractive with tea all set and ready. The houseboat owner, the moment he knew I did not drink tea, had coffee prepared for me, and we did full justice to the excellent tea, with home-baked scones etc. “King’s House” has a delightful sitting-room, a dining-room, pantry, three bedrooms and three bathrooms, and we loved it at once.
Kings House, Middle Gagribal, Srinagar
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May E Morton, Srinagar, Kashmir, 1943
Sitting Room, King’s House houseboat
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We then settled down to endure the anxious time of waiting for news of our husbands. It was almost impossible to get news from Burma, and I had only one letter, and that had taken so long to come that it was worthless as an indication to my husband’s then safety. Our troops were withdrawing very rapidly, and as I knew all the possible places from where my husband’s steamers could function, I became aware that he could no longer be using them, and so I assumed that if he had got safely through, he must be on his way out of Burma on foot.
That time can never be forgotten, but there came at last a day when I got a wire from our Calcutta office telling me that John had reached Chittagong and was expected in Calcutta next day. My relief can be imagined, but I had to temper my expression of it as we had had no word of Col. Brewitt. I at once wired Calcutta to welcome my husband, and in the wire I asked if he knew of Col. Brewitt’s whereabouts. He replied saying the Colonel was alright and was just a little way behind my husband’s party on the walk out, but that their progress had been slowed as one of the party was ill and being carried. However, this relieved Margaret’s mind, and soon she had word from Pat, her husband, and we rejoiced together.
Pat arrived in Srinagar on the 4th June for two weeks’ leave, before going to Simla to work, and John got here on the 19th June for barely two weeks. The two were here for one night together, as Pat left on the morning of June 20th. He looked awful when he arrived, having had malaria, but was very much better when he left. John had been very ill with malaria in Calcutta and had been in hospital, but he soon picked up while here and when he went down again to Calcutta on 2nd July, he was very much fitter. Needless to say, his leave here was all too short, particularly as he had been wired for to come to England to have conferences with the Ministry of War Transport, and we knew he might leave any day and we would not be able to meet again before he left.
His priority air passage came through very quickly and he left Karachi for home by air on the 15th July, reaching London on the evening of the 20th. When his telegram announcing his arrival home came I was most thankful, and then began the wait for his departure for India again. In the meantime, our eldest son, Jock, who had been in the Argyll & Sutherland Highlanders at home, had applied for the Indian Army, and was on his way out to go to an OTS in India for training for his Commission. He thus missed seeing his father, and was very disappointed, especially as they had not met since September 1939.
Jock arrived in India at the end of July 1942 and went to Mhow. He got his Commission finally to the 6th Rajputana Rifles and was stationed in Delhi with the 10th Battalion.
May E Morton, Srinagar, Kashmir, 1943
That time can never be forgotten, but there came at last a day when I got a wire from our Calcutta office telling me that John had reached Chittagong and was expected in Calcutta next day. My relief can be imagined, but I had to temper my expression of it as we had had no word of Col. Brewitt. I at once wired Calcutta to welcome my husband, and in the wire I asked if he knew of Col. Brewitt’s whereabouts. He replied saying the Colonel was alright and was just a little way behind my husband’s party on the walk out, but that their progress had been slowed as one of the party was ill and being carried. However, this relieved Margaret’s mind, and soon she had word from Pat, her husband, and we rejoiced together.
Pat arrived in Srinagar on the 4th June for two weeks’ leave, before going to Simla to work, and John got here on the 19th June for barely two weeks. The two were here for one night together, as Pat left on the morning of June 20th. He looked awful when he arrived, having had malaria, but was very much better when he left. John had been very ill with malaria in Calcutta and had been in hospital, but he soon picked up while here and when he went down again to Calcutta on 2nd July, he was very much fitter. Needless to say, his leave here was all too short, particularly as he had been wired for to come to England to have conferences with the Ministry of War Transport, and we knew he might leave any day and we would not be able to meet again before he left.
His priority air passage came through very quickly and he left Karachi for home by air on the 15th July, reaching London on the evening of the 20th. When his telegram announcing his arrival home came I was most thankful, and then began the wait for his departure for India again. In the meantime, our eldest son, Jock, who had been in the Argyll & Sutherland Highlanders at home, had applied for the Indian Army, and was on his way out to go to an OTS in India for training for his Commission. He thus missed seeing his father, and was very disappointed, especially as they had not met since September 1939.
Jock arrived in India at the end of July 1942 and went to Mhow. He got his Commission finally to the 6th Rajputana Rifles and was stationed in Delhi with the 10th Battalion.
May E Morton, Srinagar, Kashmir, 1943
Burma, A few brief notes by J. M., November 1942
“Until the bombing of Rangoon on 23rd December 1941 Burma hardly realised what the war meant, although demands had been made on all firms and services. All but the minimum of essential workers had been combed out for the rapidly expanding Army and the new Burma Navy, but business was carried on somehow or other.
I was Manager of the Glasgow-owned Irrawaddy Flotilla Co., Ltd., operating on practically all the rivers of Burma, and many demands were made on our services by the Military and Civil Departments, including “lease-lend” cargoes for the Chinese through the far distant port of Bhamo.
With the bombing of Rangoon, the killing of many coolies and the evacuation of thousands more, work in the port came almost to a standstill. Convoys, however, continued to arrive and stores and munitions were required up country and had to go. This was a strenuous period.
On 20th February 1942 the “E” label was hoisted. This meant the evacuation of the civil population from Rangoon. Those left were required for the denial of valuable works, refineries and mills, to the enemy. The river steamers carried many thousands of evacuees out to the Delta districts and to upcountry stations which were still considered safe.
The final evacuation of Rangoon took place on 7th March 1942. The “last ditchers” as the demolition parties were called, were taken by sea to Calcutta. Our steamers and craft were shepherded upcountry and headquarters established at Prome.
As the enemy advanced rapidly, Prome was soon in the battle area and, after handling many ship loads of food, troops, ammunition and, of course, refugees and wounded, headquarters were gradually moved further north. A respite was obtained at Mandalay, which we thought would be safe for a long time. Soon the town was bombed and burnt out. Mandalay, which is about 600 miles upriver from Rangoon, was chiefly composed of wooden and mat houses, and what the Japanese left was set on fire by local “bad hats”.
At this time, it was not clear which way the Army would retreat. The Chindwin River offered the nearest and easiest route into Assam, but the very shallow nature of the river prevented the use of anything but light-draft sternwheel steamers. We had only 16 of these and they were kept busy. For weeks we had been evacuating refugees and taking up coolies for work on the motor road from Kalewa to Manipur. The main part of the Army also came out this way.
The main fleet was on the Irrawaddy and Mandalay harbour was full of craft. Many vessels were loaded and had to be sent further up. In one day, we moved 9,000 evacuees up to Kyoukmyoung. General Alexander, on one of his visits of inspection, asked me how many days I required to clear up the position in Mandalay and I said, “Ten days”. He said “Right – you can have ten days” and, sure enough, the Japs were in Mandalay on the eleventh day. Many vessels had to be left behind, but they were under the water.
I was Manager of the Glasgow-owned Irrawaddy Flotilla Co., Ltd., operating on practically all the rivers of Burma, and many demands were made on our services by the Military and Civil Departments, including “lease-lend” cargoes for the Chinese through the far distant port of Bhamo.
With the bombing of Rangoon, the killing of many coolies and the evacuation of thousands more, work in the port came almost to a standstill. Convoys, however, continued to arrive and stores and munitions were required up country and had to go. This was a strenuous period.
On 20th February 1942 the “E” label was hoisted. This meant the evacuation of the civil population from Rangoon. Those left were required for the denial of valuable works, refineries and mills, to the enemy. The river steamers carried many thousands of evacuees out to the Delta districts and to upcountry stations which were still considered safe.
The final evacuation of Rangoon took place on 7th March 1942. The “last ditchers” as the demolition parties were called, were taken by sea to Calcutta. Our steamers and craft were shepherded upcountry and headquarters established at Prome.
As the enemy advanced rapidly, Prome was soon in the battle area and, after handling many ship loads of food, troops, ammunition and, of course, refugees and wounded, headquarters were gradually moved further north. A respite was obtained at Mandalay, which we thought would be safe for a long time. Soon the town was bombed and burnt out. Mandalay, which is about 600 miles upriver from Rangoon, was chiefly composed of wooden and mat houses, and what the Japanese left was set on fire by local “bad hats”.
At this time, it was not clear which way the Army would retreat. The Chindwin River offered the nearest and easiest route into Assam, but the very shallow nature of the river prevented the use of anything but light-draft sternwheel steamers. We had only 16 of these and they were kept busy. For weeks we had been evacuating refugees and taking up coolies for work on the motor road from Kalewa to Manipur. The main part of the Army also came out this way.
The main fleet was on the Irrawaddy and Mandalay harbour was full of craft. Many vessels were loaded and had to be sent further up. In one day, we moved 9,000 evacuees up to Kyoukmyoung. General Alexander, on one of his visits of inspection, asked me how many days I required to clear up the position in Mandalay and I said, “Ten days”. He said “Right – you can have ten days” and, sure enough, the Japs were in Mandalay on the eleventh day. Many vessels had to be left behind, but they were under the water.
“On Good Friday Mandalay was bombed, and whole areas set alight. These fires were kept
alight by fifth columnists and looters, and Mandalay was still burning when it was finally abandoned.
The British Staff of the Flotilla Company gathered at Mandalay and were housed at the Agency.
A strange incident of those nightmare times was of evening dinners round a table in the garden, lit by the glare
of flames reflected from the gathering monsoon clouds when Morton would, if things had been particularly bad,
produce his ukulele and as song after song was rolled out, we would join in and all feel much the better for it.”
Dorothy Laird, Paddy Henderson, The Story of P. Henderson & Company, 1961
alight by fifth columnists and looters, and Mandalay was still burning when it was finally abandoned.
The British Staff of the Flotilla Company gathered at Mandalay and were housed at the Agency.
A strange incident of those nightmare times was of evening dinners round a table in the garden, lit by the glare
of flames reflected from the gathering monsoon clouds when Morton would, if things had been particularly bad,
produce his ukulele and as song after song was rolled out, we would join in and all feel much the better for it.”
Dorothy Laird, Paddy Henderson, The Story of P. Henderson & Company, 1961
From Kyoukmyoung we moved up to Katha with more stores, petrol, hospital ships and refugees. The Japs were below us and had reached Bhamo above us when we left Katha, about 850 miles upriver from Rangoon, on 4th May, after denying the magnificent fleet to the enemy.
Excerpt From John Morton’s Report To The Company Directors
Katha
4th May 1942
Up early, load up the cars and join the stream of evacuees. Some ships have disappeared, some lying at all angles but all useless to the Japs. The amount of work we have put into getting the ships, petrol, rice, stores and evacuees up to Katha – has just been wasted – except for the thousands of evacuees. None of the medical stores are wanted, none of the rice and other foodstuffs – there is no time – the Japs are too close. The plans for food dumps on the road to Assam have fallen down owing to lack of time. Poor evacuees – I don’t know how they will fare. Some of us are walking and others in the cars – we go about 9 miles past Indaw, dump the stuff at a spot near a stream and go back for the walkers. We give lifts to some crews who are feeling the march and some coolie women ex Dalla. By shuttling in this way, we make two marches in one day. Katha was bombed after we left. The planes flew over me when I was driving back so I hurriedly jumped into a ditch at the roadside.
5th May 1942
Those who rode yesterday walk today and we push on to Pwinbon where there is a camp – food has failed for the multitude except for some rice – we have plenty. We shuttle again and us walkers are very glad to see the cars come back for us. We all have guns and revolvers, not knowing how the jungle people are going to treat us. I contact Petch and Donnson and offer them a lakh of currency notes which we find heavy to carry. They don’t need it, so we burn it. The camp we select is near a cool stream and we drink the water and bathe. Capt. Mitchell, Atkinson, Brentnall are at Pwinbon and ask for a car. I give them mine retaining Mr. Paterson’s and Noah’s.
6th May
Off at the crack of dawn to Mansi where we shuttle again and bring up the whole party of 13. We are Self, Dry, McClure, MacDonald, Paterson, Miller of Dalla, Reid, Adkins, Mr. McAuslan, Smith, Abraham, Noah the Office boy and Keymer of Govt. dockyard. After a meal – mostly cocoanut water – we start off over unbelievable roads. We push up hills and the cars keep pace with us or rather we go as fast as the cars. At last Noah’s gives out, sheer overwork, so we pack everything into Paterson’s and carry on to Chounggyi – a mile beyond Magyibon – where we camp in the forest and boil our kettle in the hoof mark of an elephant. Cars cannot go further; in fact, none has gone as far as ours. We try to get rafts for the stream, or coolies for the road but fail. Black outlook.
7th May
We shed most of our clothes and eatables as we have to carry everything ourselves. My uke etc., all left behind. For 4 miles we walk along a forest path by torchlight till we come to a deep pool where we find rafts and, fortunately, Nobby Clark of Steels in charge of them. After a bit we secure 6 rafts to carry our kit and two men each. Off we go down the river, poling, pushing and dragging the rafts, all have bare feet as we are in and out of the water all the time. Jap planes come over. It is a tiring day, we are all done up and we sleep again on a sandbank.
8th May
General Stillwell’s party passes us in the stream at Natmaw going fast and one man collapses in front of us.
9th May 1942
Off next morning to the same toil, but at a village we get coolies to pull the rafts and this makes things easier. The river is very winding, and we are told it will take us 9 days to do what we can walk in one, so we leave the rafts and push on. At last we come to a deserted village in the dark, we occupy three of the houses and wash ourselves in a stream.
10th May
Off at cock crow and we reach Maingkaing in the forenoon. There our coolies refuse to go further, so we bribe the Thugyi to produce a raft. We wait about and all bathe naked while the raft is being constructed, and those with the sorest feet get on board and us others walk.
We walk quicker than the raft moves and by dark we select a site, light fires and await the raft. It is a poor one, cost Rs.130/- and worth in normal times Rs.15/-. The bamboos are split, the water gets in and there is no buoyancy. We have dinner and coil down in our hard beds to be wakened early by a thunderstorm and rain, which soaks everything that had kept fairly dry on the raft. We are all uncomfortable and sore but start off again.
4th May 1942
Up early, load up the cars and join the stream of evacuees. Some ships have disappeared, some lying at all angles but all useless to the Japs. The amount of work we have put into getting the ships, petrol, rice, stores and evacuees up to Katha – has just been wasted – except for the thousands of evacuees. None of the medical stores are wanted, none of the rice and other foodstuffs – there is no time – the Japs are too close. The plans for food dumps on the road to Assam have fallen down owing to lack of time. Poor evacuees – I don’t know how they will fare. Some of us are walking and others in the cars – we go about 9 miles past Indaw, dump the stuff at a spot near a stream and go back for the walkers. We give lifts to some crews who are feeling the march and some coolie women ex Dalla. By shuttling in this way, we make two marches in one day. Katha was bombed after we left. The planes flew over me when I was driving back so I hurriedly jumped into a ditch at the roadside.
5th May 1942
Those who rode yesterday walk today and we push on to Pwinbon where there is a camp – food has failed for the multitude except for some rice – we have plenty. We shuttle again and us walkers are very glad to see the cars come back for us. We all have guns and revolvers, not knowing how the jungle people are going to treat us. I contact Petch and Donnson and offer them a lakh of currency notes which we find heavy to carry. They don’t need it, so we burn it. The camp we select is near a cool stream and we drink the water and bathe. Capt. Mitchell, Atkinson, Brentnall are at Pwinbon and ask for a car. I give them mine retaining Mr. Paterson’s and Noah’s.
6th May
Off at the crack of dawn to Mansi where we shuttle again and bring up the whole party of 13. We are Self, Dry, McClure, MacDonald, Paterson, Miller of Dalla, Reid, Adkins, Mr. McAuslan, Smith, Abraham, Noah the Office boy and Keymer of Govt. dockyard. After a meal – mostly cocoanut water – we start off over unbelievable roads. We push up hills and the cars keep pace with us or rather we go as fast as the cars. At last Noah’s gives out, sheer overwork, so we pack everything into Paterson’s and carry on to Chounggyi – a mile beyond Magyibon – where we camp in the forest and boil our kettle in the hoof mark of an elephant. Cars cannot go further; in fact, none has gone as far as ours. We try to get rafts for the stream, or coolies for the road but fail. Black outlook.
7th May
We shed most of our clothes and eatables as we have to carry everything ourselves. My uke etc., all left behind. For 4 miles we walk along a forest path by torchlight till we come to a deep pool where we find rafts and, fortunately, Nobby Clark of Steels in charge of them. After a bit we secure 6 rafts to carry our kit and two men each. Off we go down the river, poling, pushing and dragging the rafts, all have bare feet as we are in and out of the water all the time. Jap planes come over. It is a tiring day, we are all done up and we sleep again on a sandbank.
8th May
General Stillwell’s party passes us in the stream at Natmaw going fast and one man collapses in front of us.
9th May 1942
Off next morning to the same toil, but at a village we get coolies to pull the rafts and this makes things easier. The river is very winding, and we are told it will take us 9 days to do what we can walk in one, so we leave the rafts and push on. At last we come to a deserted village in the dark, we occupy three of the houses and wash ourselves in a stream.
10th May
Off at cock crow and we reach Maingkaing in the forenoon. There our coolies refuse to go further, so we bribe the Thugyi to produce a raft. We wait about and all bathe naked while the raft is being constructed, and those with the sorest feet get on board and us others walk.
We walk quicker than the raft moves and by dark we select a site, light fires and await the raft. It is a poor one, cost Rs.130/- and worth in normal times Rs.15/-. The bamboos are split, the water gets in and there is no buoyancy. We have dinner and coil down in our hard beds to be wakened early by a thunderstorm and rain, which soaks everything that had kept fairly dry on the raft. We are all uncomfortable and sore but start off again.
11th May
This time with a better raft, which we “found” deserted. We reached Nyoungbo Aung in the forenoon and found a Burman who entertained us to dinner – we supplied the chickens and he did the rest and even got us coolies. There we ascertained that Government was advising all refugees to make for Tonhe and not for Homalin. As however some high officials had already gone on to Homalin, we decided to try the Northern route. We slept that same night in a deserted house at Yegyaw, having arranged with the ferrymen to take us across the Ooyu Chung in the early morning. Chinese soldiers arrived during the night and slept amongst us.
12th May
We marched to Homalin to find only 3 shops open and a deserted village. We cross to the other bank and try to get porters and guides. We manage to fix up these, when Capt. Reid and Mr. Miller come back with a story the road is full of difficulties and that we are strongly advised to go down river to Tonhe and strike in from there. We secure a Laungzin and try to get another but only the one dugout is available. We pack into it and leave at 8 p.m. hoping to be down at Tonhe in the early morning. We have an exciting time in the dark, so cramped that I had two men’s feet in my face at the one time.
13th May
We arrive at Tonhe at 9 a.m. and find the government Snaglift “Martindale” abandoned and immobilized but with bags of rice, flour and Dhall on board. We cook breakfast while Ram Lall, the Agent of the Sawbwa at Thoungdoot, goes to arrange for coolies. It is a trying afternoon, hot and very steep climbing, and we arrive at dark at a bamboo from which a trickle of cold water runs off. It is a treat and we camp for the night nearby.
This time with a better raft, which we “found” deserted. We reached Nyoungbo Aung in the forenoon and found a Burman who entertained us to dinner – we supplied the chickens and he did the rest and even got us coolies. There we ascertained that Government was advising all refugees to make for Tonhe and not for Homalin. As however some high officials had already gone on to Homalin, we decided to try the Northern route. We slept that same night in a deserted house at Yegyaw, having arranged with the ferrymen to take us across the Ooyu Chung in the early morning. Chinese soldiers arrived during the night and slept amongst us.
12th May
We marched to Homalin to find only 3 shops open and a deserted village. We cross to the other bank and try to get porters and guides. We manage to fix up these, when Capt. Reid and Mr. Miller come back with a story the road is full of difficulties and that we are strongly advised to go down river to Tonhe and strike in from there. We secure a Laungzin and try to get another but only the one dugout is available. We pack into it and leave at 8 p.m. hoping to be down at Tonhe in the early morning. We have an exciting time in the dark, so cramped that I had two men’s feet in my face at the one time.
13th May
We arrive at Tonhe at 9 a.m. and find the government Snaglift “Martindale” abandoned and immobilized but with bags of rice, flour and Dhall on board. We cook breakfast while Ram Lall, the Agent of the Sawbwa at Thoungdoot, goes to arrange for coolies. It is a trying afternoon, hot and very steep climbing, and we arrive at dark at a bamboo from which a trickle of cold water runs off. It is a treat and we camp for the night nearby.
14th May
Off at dawn to a deserted village where there is water and where the coolies will not go beyond. After much persuasion and a 2-mile diversion off the right road, we carry on with 4 coolies and each of us carrying half our kit. A halt is made at noon near a puddle of water where we make tea and glad to have it, but you mustn’t look at the water first. The kit is heavy, but our feet are standing up better. We rest till 2:45 and start off again in the heat, as we have 8 miles of hard going before reaching Kanput where we intend to sleep.
This is our hardest day so far, and we climb up 2,800 ft. - very steep and hot and our small belongings weigh a ton. We discard all we can. Some have not even a blanket and I find a water bottle a drag. Fortunately, we come across fresh water from time to time. We carry on in the dark, up hills and alongside cliffs but eventually come to the Chin village of Kanput and find an empty house where we spread ourselves and sleep profoundly. Soldiers shoot the chickens and generally terrify the villagers hence the deserted villages, which is bad for those coming behind us.
15th May
Up early but no coolies, we decide to wait for them rather than start on the 43-mile trek to Imphal carrying everything. We don’t know how far behind are the Japs but if they are following us, they have a hard road. Villagers are friendly, and we threw away our guns yesterday. Bits here and there but carry revolvers. We have two chickens and rice and are waiting on the pot boiling. Some R.A.F. arrived before us and have first claim on the coolies but we hope there will be enough to go around. We have made good time and, while behind units of the Army and disorderly groups of Indian soldiers, we are ahead of the mainstream of evacuees. At last we get coolies, six men and five women, and start off on an easy trek mostly downhill. About midday we come to a delightful river and halt to bathe, make tea and rest. From this point the road goes steep up hill and tries our bellows; we cross at 3,300 feet and plod on to Nanbashay, a Naga village. We buy a pig and roast it over a wood fire. It takes a long time to cook and even when we cut it up, only the outside is done and the inside raw. However, it tastes of pork and we keep bits for tomorrow’s stew. We sleep on the veranda of a house – under cover, for we expect rain.
Our coolies (men and women) were to take us a 3 days journey for Rs.30/- each but there is some misunderstanding and they want to go home. We cannot agree, as this would leave us with no porters, but they desert in the night without pay. We don’t know if we are in Burma or Manipur.
Off at dawn to a deserted village where there is water and where the coolies will not go beyond. After much persuasion and a 2-mile diversion off the right road, we carry on with 4 coolies and each of us carrying half our kit. A halt is made at noon near a puddle of water where we make tea and glad to have it, but you mustn’t look at the water first. The kit is heavy, but our feet are standing up better. We rest till 2:45 and start off again in the heat, as we have 8 miles of hard going before reaching Kanput where we intend to sleep.
This is our hardest day so far, and we climb up 2,800 ft. - very steep and hot and our small belongings weigh a ton. We discard all we can. Some have not even a blanket and I find a water bottle a drag. Fortunately, we come across fresh water from time to time. We carry on in the dark, up hills and alongside cliffs but eventually come to the Chin village of Kanput and find an empty house where we spread ourselves and sleep profoundly. Soldiers shoot the chickens and generally terrify the villagers hence the deserted villages, which is bad for those coming behind us.
15th May
Up early but no coolies, we decide to wait for them rather than start on the 43-mile trek to Imphal carrying everything. We don’t know how far behind are the Japs but if they are following us, they have a hard road. Villagers are friendly, and we threw away our guns yesterday. Bits here and there but carry revolvers. We have two chickens and rice and are waiting on the pot boiling. Some R.A.F. arrived before us and have first claim on the coolies but we hope there will be enough to go around. We have made good time and, while behind units of the Army and disorderly groups of Indian soldiers, we are ahead of the mainstream of evacuees. At last we get coolies, six men and five women, and start off on an easy trek mostly downhill. About midday we come to a delightful river and halt to bathe, make tea and rest. From this point the road goes steep up hill and tries our bellows; we cross at 3,300 feet and plod on to Nanbashay, a Naga village. We buy a pig and roast it over a wood fire. It takes a long time to cook and even when we cut it up, only the outside is done and the inside raw. However, it tastes of pork and we keep bits for tomorrow’s stew. We sleep on the veranda of a house – under cover, for we expect rain.
Our coolies (men and women) were to take us a 3 days journey for Rs.30/- each but there is some misunderstanding and they want to go home. We cannot agree, as this would leave us with no porters, but they desert in the night without pay. We don’t know if we are in Burma or Manipur.
16th May
Up at daylight, pigs under us wakened us and we start to look for coolies. We are lucky and the Nagas undertake to carry our things to the beginning of the motor road for Rs. 20/- each. These Nagas wear one piece of cloth, which hangs down their front and covers their nakedness from a front elevation point of view. They wear nothing behind, but they can walk up hills and carry loads. We see very little wildlife, few birds or animals. Today we cross 3 ranges of hills 3,800, 4,200 and 5,400 feet high. Hard going but we are getting tougher. We cover 20 miles by dark and make a dry camp on the pass, lying on the roadside, our heads in the bush and our feet on the path. The wind is whistling, and we wear all the clothes we have. All clothes need washing and we are a dirty crowd and all bearded. The coolies go on another mile to a village and get food and sleep.
17th May
The coolies come back at dawn and we make tea out of our water bottles and push on. Soon we round a shoulder of the hill and see the plain of Imphal spread out before us. It is a thrilling sight as we are getting tired of hills. At 9 a.m. we come to a stream just as a train of pack mules arrive from the other direction. We are hailed by Major Brown (Neil Brown ex Glasgow Office) (Col. Biddulph’s Assistant). He is taking food into the Naga country for evacuees and has special instructions to give preference to Burma Railways and I.F. Co. personnel. Are we glad to see him! It means that we are not forgotten by H.Q. He stops three mules and gets some cases opened for us, and we sit down in the rain and enjoy tinned sausages. We each take an extra tin for dinner and proceed along the plain. Jap planes make us sit down off the path for 10 minutes. They bombed Imphal yesterday and we learn the place is deserted. We also learn that our craft did good work on the Chindwin and ferried the Army from Shwegyin to Kalewa without loss of man or animal, but the Motor Transport was left behind. Mr. Murie got the M.C. on the spot for sterling work, and we are all pleased about it. The food that Brown is taking up to the hilltops will be a Godsend to those following us, and we have Col. Biddulph to thank for it.
We reach Yaripok at the end of the road and the coolies lay down their burdens and want to go home. They have heard about the bombing and are scared. This is the end of a 230-mile tramp completed in 14 days, a fairly creditable performance. We look about for carts, when a station wagon rolls up with Col. Biddulph out to look for us. We have a curry and rice in the Dak bungalow, and then 6 of us pile in and are driven to a Staging Camp beyond Imphal. Imphal is deserted but pretty bungalows and flower filled gardens remain.
No chance of wiring you, the telegraph people have deserted. The Staging Camp – mat huts – built for 800 Officers, has 3,000 in it. It is a nasty place. No latrines – a stroll in the jungle. There is a running stream where we wash. We get sweet tea and delightful bread and margarine – just fine. We have not tasted bread since before we left Mandalay. I eat so much I have no interest in dinner. I get an issue of a shirt, shorts, mosquito net, towel, soap and boys’ plimsolls, which won’t go on my feet. My golf shoes are just about done, but we are in Manipur and hope soon to be in Calcutta. We meet lots of people who have come up the Chindwin, the Colonel fixes up transport for crack of dawn and off we go to sleep on damp ground in the worst camp of the whole march. Why we don’t catch cold I don’t know – we are too tired to bother about such things.
Up at daylight, pigs under us wakened us and we start to look for coolies. We are lucky and the Nagas undertake to carry our things to the beginning of the motor road for Rs. 20/- each. These Nagas wear one piece of cloth, which hangs down their front and covers their nakedness from a front elevation point of view. They wear nothing behind, but they can walk up hills and carry loads. We see very little wildlife, few birds or animals. Today we cross 3 ranges of hills 3,800, 4,200 and 5,400 feet high. Hard going but we are getting tougher. We cover 20 miles by dark and make a dry camp on the pass, lying on the roadside, our heads in the bush and our feet on the path. The wind is whistling, and we wear all the clothes we have. All clothes need washing and we are a dirty crowd and all bearded. The coolies go on another mile to a village and get food and sleep.
17th May
The coolies come back at dawn and we make tea out of our water bottles and push on. Soon we round a shoulder of the hill and see the plain of Imphal spread out before us. It is a thrilling sight as we are getting tired of hills. At 9 a.m. we come to a stream just as a train of pack mules arrive from the other direction. We are hailed by Major Brown (Neil Brown ex Glasgow Office) (Col. Biddulph’s Assistant). He is taking food into the Naga country for evacuees and has special instructions to give preference to Burma Railways and I.F. Co. personnel. Are we glad to see him! It means that we are not forgotten by H.Q. He stops three mules and gets some cases opened for us, and we sit down in the rain and enjoy tinned sausages. We each take an extra tin for dinner and proceed along the plain. Jap planes make us sit down off the path for 10 minutes. They bombed Imphal yesterday and we learn the place is deserted. We also learn that our craft did good work on the Chindwin and ferried the Army from Shwegyin to Kalewa without loss of man or animal, but the Motor Transport was left behind. Mr. Murie got the M.C. on the spot for sterling work, and we are all pleased about it. The food that Brown is taking up to the hilltops will be a Godsend to those following us, and we have Col. Biddulph to thank for it.
We reach Yaripok at the end of the road and the coolies lay down their burdens and want to go home. They have heard about the bombing and are scared. This is the end of a 230-mile tramp completed in 14 days, a fairly creditable performance. We look about for carts, when a station wagon rolls up with Col. Biddulph out to look for us. We have a curry and rice in the Dak bungalow, and then 6 of us pile in and are driven to a Staging Camp beyond Imphal. Imphal is deserted but pretty bungalows and flower filled gardens remain.
No chance of wiring you, the telegraph people have deserted. The Staging Camp – mat huts – built for 800 Officers, has 3,000 in it. It is a nasty place. No latrines – a stroll in the jungle. There is a running stream where we wash. We get sweet tea and delightful bread and margarine – just fine. We have not tasted bread since before we left Mandalay. I eat so much I have no interest in dinner. I get an issue of a shirt, shorts, mosquito net, towel, soap and boys’ plimsolls, which won’t go on my feet. My golf shoes are just about done, but we are in Manipur and hope soon to be in Calcutta. We meet lots of people who have come up the Chindwin, the Colonel fixes up transport for crack of dawn and off we go to sleep on damp ground in the worst camp of the whole march. Why we don’t catch cold I don’t know – we are too tired to bother about such things.
18th May
Up at 4 a.m. for a truck to take us 120 miles to the railway at Dinapur. We manage to get a packet of biscuits – Indian made, but excellent and filling - and off we go in a large convoy. The road is full of soldiers and evacuees tramping to safety. The pace is slow, we make about 9 miles per hour. The scenery at points is beautiful. It is a mountain road – all turns and climbs and descents. We cross at 5,700 feet and stop at a bungalow at 1 p.m. to boil tea – break our fast. Out come our tins and we do ourselves well in pouring rain and thunder. Thank God the rain did not come earlier or what we should have done in the hills I don’t know. I pity those coming after us. I borrowed Biddulph’s razor and had a shave. Back into the lorry – singing songs – the Colonel is with us and we pick up Aminoola Syrang and his Secunnie who have done well and are glad to see us.
At Kohima we call on the resident to enquire for arrivals from Hamolin via the Somra tracks and are pleased to learn that Mr. Binns, Commissioner of Sagaing, has not yet arrived. The bungalow and garden are beautiful – rambler roses and English flowers. Off we go again and arrive at 9 p.m. at Dinapur and learn that a train – already full, will leave after midnight. We have a look at it and are joyed to find Kinnear, McNoughton, Murie, Hutcheon, Crawford, Smith, Jones, Fernie and Gibson of Dalla. We exchange experiences and then go to look for food at a camp. Arrived there, Meymer cannot get out of the truck. He has collapsed so we take him to hospital. It is exhaustion and fever, but he will be O.K. in two days, so we leave him. We get Bully Beef sandwiches of excellent bread and tea and feel much better. We are cold and tired. Then back to the station where some more coaches have been added and McAuslan and I share an “Intermediate” carriage – no lights or water – but we stretch out full length and go to sleep. A long day, but we feel we have wasted no time and that the Colonel has done his stuff. We part with him with regret as he is going further North to find out about the Bhamo evacuees via Myitkyina and the Hukong Valley. We arrange to meet in Calcutta and have one real good night.
19th May
At the first stop I manage to get a tin mug of water and wash in it. At Lumding at 9 a.m. we are in luxury and have bacon and eggs with tea and bread. What a treat! The train is a long one and has some open trucks full of evacuees. Some crews come to me for pay. I ask why they didn’t wait for me at Katha and they tell me their Captains cleared out and advised them to do likewise. I promise to meet them in Chittagong on 8th June and square up what we owe. Aminoola manages to get me a cigar and I wouldn’t call the King my uncle. Women volunteers are handing out tea to troops and evacuees. It is only now I appreciate the good work these women do – they are 300 miles from their homes, but cheery - and one is Scottish. I still cannot wire and no newspapers. I hope to reach Gauhati tonight. I was on holiday last time I saw the Brahmaputra. Dry and I stroll to the bazaar in search of a razor, but it is a small place and nothing doing. Breakfast costs Rs.1/4/- per head – 19 of us and it tried the Khansamah pretty high, but he rose to the occasion. At Pandu Mr. McAuslan and I hurry off to the ferry and get on board just as it leaves; we also manage to get into a compartment in the train on the other side and so we proceed by rail to Calcutta arriving about 4 p.m. on 20th May and are met by Brodie, Malcolm and Capt. Coutts. We are very glad to be here. The rest of the party missed the ferry at Pandu and will likely arrive tomorrow. (They did).
Up at 4 a.m. for a truck to take us 120 miles to the railway at Dinapur. We manage to get a packet of biscuits – Indian made, but excellent and filling - and off we go in a large convoy. The road is full of soldiers and evacuees tramping to safety. The pace is slow, we make about 9 miles per hour. The scenery at points is beautiful. It is a mountain road – all turns and climbs and descents. We cross at 5,700 feet and stop at a bungalow at 1 p.m. to boil tea – break our fast. Out come our tins and we do ourselves well in pouring rain and thunder. Thank God the rain did not come earlier or what we should have done in the hills I don’t know. I pity those coming after us. I borrowed Biddulph’s razor and had a shave. Back into the lorry – singing songs – the Colonel is with us and we pick up Aminoola Syrang and his Secunnie who have done well and are glad to see us.
At Kohima we call on the resident to enquire for arrivals from Hamolin via the Somra tracks and are pleased to learn that Mr. Binns, Commissioner of Sagaing, has not yet arrived. The bungalow and garden are beautiful – rambler roses and English flowers. Off we go again and arrive at 9 p.m. at Dinapur and learn that a train – already full, will leave after midnight. We have a look at it and are joyed to find Kinnear, McNoughton, Murie, Hutcheon, Crawford, Smith, Jones, Fernie and Gibson of Dalla. We exchange experiences and then go to look for food at a camp. Arrived there, Meymer cannot get out of the truck. He has collapsed so we take him to hospital. It is exhaustion and fever, but he will be O.K. in two days, so we leave him. We get Bully Beef sandwiches of excellent bread and tea and feel much better. We are cold and tired. Then back to the station where some more coaches have been added and McAuslan and I share an “Intermediate” carriage – no lights or water – but we stretch out full length and go to sleep. A long day, but we feel we have wasted no time and that the Colonel has done his stuff. We part with him with regret as he is going further North to find out about the Bhamo evacuees via Myitkyina and the Hukong Valley. We arrange to meet in Calcutta and have one real good night.
19th May
At the first stop I manage to get a tin mug of water and wash in it. At Lumding at 9 a.m. we are in luxury and have bacon and eggs with tea and bread. What a treat! The train is a long one and has some open trucks full of evacuees. Some crews come to me for pay. I ask why they didn’t wait for me at Katha and they tell me their Captains cleared out and advised them to do likewise. I promise to meet them in Chittagong on 8th June and square up what we owe. Aminoola manages to get me a cigar and I wouldn’t call the King my uncle. Women volunteers are handing out tea to troops and evacuees. It is only now I appreciate the good work these women do – they are 300 miles from their homes, but cheery - and one is Scottish. I still cannot wire and no newspapers. I hope to reach Gauhati tonight. I was on holiday last time I saw the Brahmaputra. Dry and I stroll to the bazaar in search of a razor, but it is a small place and nothing doing. Breakfast costs Rs.1/4/- per head – 19 of us and it tried the Khansamah pretty high, but he rose to the occasion. At Pandu Mr. McAuslan and I hurry off to the ferry and get on board just as it leaves; we also manage to get into a compartment in the train on the other side and so we proceed by rail to Calcutta arriving about 4 p.m. on 20th May and are met by Brodie, Malcolm and Capt. Coutts. We are very glad to be here. The rest of the party missed the ferry at Pandu and will likely arrive tomorrow. (They did).
Burma, A few brief notes by J. M., November 1942
“All the Europeans in the company got out safely except one Captain, who died of exhaustion on reaching Imphal, one of our Engineers (a Glasgow man), in the Army, who died of malaria in the Hukong valley, and one office assistant (also in the Army) who was captured by the Japanese. Two of our floating staff and several native ratings were killed earlier on by bombs.
Those of our native crews who stuck by their steamers to the end had to walk out the same way and, unfortunately, a few did not reach Chittagong, their homeland. I have since been down to see the survivors there and they, like myself and the rest of the staff ashore and afloat, are waiting for the day when the steamers with the black funnels and red band will again be chunking up the Irrawaddy “on the road to Mandalay”.
Those of our native crews who stuck by their steamers to the end had to walk out the same way and, unfortunately, a few did not reach Chittagong, their homeland. I have since been down to see the survivors there and they, like myself and the rest of the staff ashore and afloat, are waiting for the day when the steamers with the black funnels and red band will again be chunking up the Irrawaddy “on the road to Mandalay”.
THE BOYS
Their office capabilities were quite well-known to me
But how they took to other things was an amazing sight to see!
They handled tugs and barges, learning windward from the lee,
One blast for right, two for left, and going astern was three.
They took charge of petrol, bombs and ammunition flats;
Worked all days in sunlight with neither shirts nor hats,
Getting the stuff up-country, away from danger ghats;
Coming and going at all hours and drinking beer by vats.
Further up the river, as the war moved up that way,
A thousand things were done by them for which they got no pay;
Speedboat coxswain, gunner, maistry, secunnie, in one day,
While shepherding evacuees and those that wouldn’t stay.
Food had to reach up-country to keep the Army going;
How could it go up-river except by steamers towing;
Which isn’t quite so easy unless you’ve someone knowing;
But up it went in toto whether freight was paid or owing.
They tidied up the harbor after sudden violent squalls;
Pulled boats afloat, hove anchors up with capstans short of pawls;
Got firewood when we wanted it, and answered many calls
For gangways, space, berths, cabins, and even horse’s stalls.
When all demands were satisfied and the Army on the run,
There yet remained a duty, and a very painful one,
To prevent the vessels falling into hands of Jap or Hun;
So they sank the fleet at Kyoukmuoung and Katha by fire of gun.
On the road to Homalin, which was partly done by car,
They found out why it wouldn’t go and brought it up to par;
While rafting down the Choungy they dragged and pushed at every bar
And selected camping sites and lived on mixtures from a jar.
They burnt lakhs of notes regardless, as if they were unpaid bills,
Lived on Glugos D and vitamins and stuff that never fills;
Drank water out of drains which they said were mountain rills;
And they walked and walked to Assam right through the Naga Hills.
In fact – anything but work.
John Morton
Spring of 1942
Their office capabilities were quite well-known to me
But how they took to other things was an amazing sight to see!
They handled tugs and barges, learning windward from the lee,
One blast for right, two for left, and going astern was three.
They took charge of petrol, bombs and ammunition flats;
Worked all days in sunlight with neither shirts nor hats,
Getting the stuff up-country, away from danger ghats;
Coming and going at all hours and drinking beer by vats.
Further up the river, as the war moved up that way,
A thousand things were done by them for which they got no pay;
Speedboat coxswain, gunner, maistry, secunnie, in one day,
While shepherding evacuees and those that wouldn’t stay.
Food had to reach up-country to keep the Army going;
How could it go up-river except by steamers towing;
Which isn’t quite so easy unless you’ve someone knowing;
But up it went in toto whether freight was paid or owing.
They tidied up the harbor after sudden violent squalls;
Pulled boats afloat, hove anchors up with capstans short of pawls;
Got firewood when we wanted it, and answered many calls
For gangways, space, berths, cabins, and even horse’s stalls.
When all demands were satisfied and the Army on the run,
There yet remained a duty, and a very painful one,
To prevent the vessels falling into hands of Jap or Hun;
So they sank the fleet at Kyoukmuoung and Katha by fire of gun.
On the road to Homalin, which was partly done by car,
They found out why it wouldn’t go and brought it up to par;
While rafting down the Choungy they dragged and pushed at every bar
And selected camping sites and lived on mixtures from a jar.
They burnt lakhs of notes regardless, as if they were unpaid bills,
Lived on Glugos D and vitamins and stuff that never fills;
Drank water out of drains which they said were mountain rills;
And they walked and walked to Assam right through the Naga Hills.
In fact – anything but work.
John Morton
Spring of 1942
Calcutta
3rd June 1942
Dearest Lillie,
You have been very good about writing regularly & I’m afraid I have not. No doubt I could have found the time, but things have been against sitting quietly down & writing home. Home seems far off these days although I may be there quite soon. May has kept you informed about things so far as she knew them but for weeks, I was out of touch with her. I am glad to know you keep well & that the Mater is also pretty good. The summer is fine at home – even wet ones & I like the autumn in Scotland. I hope I see it this year.
Well, after many vicissitudes I am in hospital & enjoying every minute of it. I have an air-conditioned room delightfully cool & it is clearing up my prickly heat wonderfully. I had a nasty go of malaria & other things feared but did not show up. I’ll be out before the end of the week so write this while I have peace to do so.
Calcutta at this time is worse than Rangoon at any time.
I hope to go to Chittagong at the weekend to see my crews who stuck by me & walked out with me. I believe in the personal contact & I owe some of them wages. I could send others & in fact will take others with me, but as head man I count most & I rely on getting them back to work for me when that becomes possible again.
Since we left Rangoon much as happened & life in Mandalay was unreal. Bombs were dropped without warning & at night we sat on the lawn with the only light that of burning houses round about it. Some of the sights were dreadful. We were kept very busy working for the Army chiefly but also handling thousands of evacuees. At one time we had 14 hospital ships. Our crews deserted in large numbers & we had many steamers idle. This was a mixed blessing but when the crews made off on their own it relieved me of any responsibility for them which was not a small matter. We always had enough vessels under steam to carry out the demands made on us which were numerous & varied. When we were driven out of Mandalay - we were the last to go – we had cleared up everything & sunk all vessels we could not take with us. We were then chased out of Kyoukmyoung & cleared or sank everything we couldn’t take on to Katha.
There we had to destroy everything we had so laboriously taken up except the thousands of evacuees. When we got there the last train had gone so we knew we had to get away on our feet. We had 3 cars on board which took us a bit of the way & carried our kit. We overtook crowds who had left a day or two or three days ahead of us. I kept a sort of diary of the journey across to Assam & if you ask Mr. Brown in the office, he might let you read it. I did not put emphasis on our difficulties but several days we found it hard going & I was afraid we were going to have stretcher cases amongst us. Fortunately, our party all stuck it & we helped each other over many things – it was a pretty good bunch. They presented me with a silver beer mug as a memento & I am very proud of it as it is the only piece of property I have in the world. I came out with 1 pair of trousers, 2 shirts & 2 blankets – that is all I possess. Most men went sick – malaria & dysentery but I thought I was tough – huh – I next went down. We have 23 men laid up in Calcutta now, so it shows you things were not so good. Other firms are the same or worse. One of our Captains died. He was ahead of me, but I passed him. He left before me & was going strong when I last saw him.
The whole affair has been a terrible disaster as far as commerce in Burma is concerned but no doubt we’ll start again at the beginning & build it up again. I hope there will be less talk about Burma for the Burmans. They are a poor lot. I’ll tell you tales when I see you.
I shall try to go to Kashmir to see May. She is fit & happy & that is the main thing. She has had so few holidays in her life out here that I really think she is enjoying the slack lazy time she is having. She needed a rest. She is anxious to see Jock & so am I but I don’t know how I am going to manage.
I used to say “I can’t afford that” when I could – now there is no joke about it. My money was mostly in Burma & is still there.
Kenneth seems to be doing well at School & I hope he turns out a credit. You are very kind to him & Jock & I cannot thank you enough.
Love to the Mater,
Yours affectionately,
Johnnie
3rd June 1942
Dearest Lillie,
You have been very good about writing regularly & I’m afraid I have not. No doubt I could have found the time, but things have been against sitting quietly down & writing home. Home seems far off these days although I may be there quite soon. May has kept you informed about things so far as she knew them but for weeks, I was out of touch with her. I am glad to know you keep well & that the Mater is also pretty good. The summer is fine at home – even wet ones & I like the autumn in Scotland. I hope I see it this year.
Well, after many vicissitudes I am in hospital & enjoying every minute of it. I have an air-conditioned room delightfully cool & it is clearing up my prickly heat wonderfully. I had a nasty go of malaria & other things feared but did not show up. I’ll be out before the end of the week so write this while I have peace to do so.
Calcutta at this time is worse than Rangoon at any time.
I hope to go to Chittagong at the weekend to see my crews who stuck by me & walked out with me. I believe in the personal contact & I owe some of them wages. I could send others & in fact will take others with me, but as head man I count most & I rely on getting them back to work for me when that becomes possible again.
Since we left Rangoon much as happened & life in Mandalay was unreal. Bombs were dropped without warning & at night we sat on the lawn with the only light that of burning houses round about it. Some of the sights were dreadful. We were kept very busy working for the Army chiefly but also handling thousands of evacuees. At one time we had 14 hospital ships. Our crews deserted in large numbers & we had many steamers idle. This was a mixed blessing but when the crews made off on their own it relieved me of any responsibility for them which was not a small matter. We always had enough vessels under steam to carry out the demands made on us which were numerous & varied. When we were driven out of Mandalay - we were the last to go – we had cleared up everything & sunk all vessels we could not take with us. We were then chased out of Kyoukmyoung & cleared or sank everything we couldn’t take on to Katha.
There we had to destroy everything we had so laboriously taken up except the thousands of evacuees. When we got there the last train had gone so we knew we had to get away on our feet. We had 3 cars on board which took us a bit of the way & carried our kit. We overtook crowds who had left a day or two or three days ahead of us. I kept a sort of diary of the journey across to Assam & if you ask Mr. Brown in the office, he might let you read it. I did not put emphasis on our difficulties but several days we found it hard going & I was afraid we were going to have stretcher cases amongst us. Fortunately, our party all stuck it & we helped each other over many things – it was a pretty good bunch. They presented me with a silver beer mug as a memento & I am very proud of it as it is the only piece of property I have in the world. I came out with 1 pair of trousers, 2 shirts & 2 blankets – that is all I possess. Most men went sick – malaria & dysentery but I thought I was tough – huh – I next went down. We have 23 men laid up in Calcutta now, so it shows you things were not so good. Other firms are the same or worse. One of our Captains died. He was ahead of me, but I passed him. He left before me & was going strong when I last saw him.
The whole affair has been a terrible disaster as far as commerce in Burma is concerned but no doubt we’ll start again at the beginning & build it up again. I hope there will be less talk about Burma for the Burmans. They are a poor lot. I’ll tell you tales when I see you.
I shall try to go to Kashmir to see May. She is fit & happy & that is the main thing. She has had so few holidays in her life out here that I really think she is enjoying the slack lazy time she is having. She needed a rest. She is anxious to see Jock & so am I but I don’t know how I am going to manage.
I used to say “I can’t afford that” when I could – now there is no joke about it. My money was mostly in Burma & is still there.
Kenneth seems to be doing well at School & I hope he turns out a credit. You are very kind to him & Jock & I cannot thank you enough.
Love to the Mater,
Yours affectionately,
Johnnie
John Morton, fishing, Kashmir 1942
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John Morton
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The MV Morgan Stanley departed from Liverpool on the 28th November 1942 heading for Freeport & Lagos in Africa. John Morton was on board, having booked passage for his return to India. On 6th December the ship was 580 miles northwest of the Azores when it was torpedoed by U-boat U103, under the command of Gustaf-Adolph Janssen. All hands and passengers made it to the four lifeboats and started rowing to the Azores. The U-boat resurfaced later that day and after questioning the crew & passengers, took the captain prisoner. That night a gale blew up and although the U-boat commander decided to track the lifeboats, the U-boat’s engine room took on water, causing the search to be abandoned. Nothing further was seen or heard of the four lifeboats, and it was presumed that they lost their lives in the storm. In total 44 crew, eight gunners and eleven passengers lost their lives. |
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Following the loss of the MV Henry Stanley, May decided to remain in Kashmir rather than return to Scotland.
She was reluctant to take the chance of not surviving the trip and leaving her sons orphaned.
She was reluctant to take the chance of not surviving the trip and leaving her sons orphaned.