my mother.
âJack finally got his transfer to the 2nd Battalion along with several other men and NCOs. The news that the 2nd Battalion was being posted to Hong Kong and not to India greatly disappointed both of us. Jack just wanted to get back to Burma and settle down in Taunggyi.â
To the other soldiers, Hong Kong was by far the most desirable posting a serviceman could get. The tales that are included in this chapter of what servicemen (including officers) got up to in Hong Kong are based on dadâs conversations with his old fellow NCOâs and comrades and other ex-servicemen I met in later life who were posted to Hong Kong. My hotel seemed to attract ex-military men both British and German and a few Nipponese. The Germans and Americans cannot resist any building that looks like a castle, even a replica castle.
After the war, Dad and his mates would laugh during their drinking sessions at the mention of certain soldiersâ names who were the worst felons at a certain pastime: stealing sexual pleasures without paying. Tam and Willie shared with dad the responsibility of stamping out these unlawful crimes. The lucky offenders, if caught, ended up in the glass house; the unlucky ended up in the VD clinic. The favourite modus operandi of these felons will be explained later in this chapter.
On the voyage east, from Palestine to Hong Kong, the new recruits saw flying fishes for the first time and porpoises that glided and chased in the shipâs wake. As soon as they reached the tropics, strange colourful birds rested for short periods on the shipâs rigging and eyed the red-faced men below. Even the sea changed colour to a light azure blue. The young soldiers had heard that the beautiful young Chinese ladies were very friendly. And as if to confirm this, on entering Hong Kong Harbour, their ship was greeted by a flotilla of floating French letters which in sheer number dominated the less interesting flotsam. Docking, the men were delighted to see attractive local Chinese women lining the harbour rails. These exotic beauties wore their traditional style cheug sarm , tight hip clinging silk dresses, with suggestive slits that reached high on the thighs. These ladies smiled invitingly at the red-faced gawking men from Scotland. To the soldiers aboard ship, it seemed that they had arrived at a servicemanâs Shangri-La.
The flies in Hong Kong seemed to be fewer in number, and more particular in their habits. The smell of Hong Kong was a delicate mixture of various odours, both good and bad intermingled, the pleasant aromas overpowering the bad. The air contained a headycombination of spices, a hint of opium and scented joss sticks. Fragrant jasmine and bougainvillea grew in profusion on the white walls of the opulent European pavilions. These were the exotic aromas of the orient.
Hidden in the warrens of the Chinese quarter of Wanchai, sinister vendors peddled short dreams of contentment. Cheap bars lined the waterfront; market stalls sold all the tasty Chinese dishes. You could buy a small cup of fresh cobra blood that cured all ills. The Scots stared shocked as they witnessed old Chinese women painfully tottering by on tiny deformed bound feet.
To the Orientals, the Scots were also a rather exotic race. The number of Scots with flame-hair and even redder skin (always a giggling matter to oriental women) and their strange pale blue eyes amazed the local observers. The only red faces the Chinese were familiar with were on macaque monkeys. The locals found the Lothian accents most difficult to understand and on occasion, intimidating. The sound of pipes and drums caused many a Chinese to place fingers in ears. All the while, the Japanese civilians made mental notes of the numbers of troops and the Regiments arriving.
Across the border in mainland China, within marching distance, veteran Japanese troops continued to train and manoeuvre for the coming attack. They had no intention of using the main
âJack finally got his transfer to the 2nd Battalion along with several other men and NCOs. The news that the 2nd Battalion was being posted to Hong Kong and not to India greatly disappointed both of us. Jack just wanted to get back to Burma and settle down in Taunggyi.â
To the other soldiers, Hong Kong was by far the most desirable posting a serviceman could get. The tales that are included in this chapter of what servicemen (including officers) got up to in Hong Kong are based on dadâs conversations with his old fellow NCOâs and comrades and other ex-servicemen I met in later life who were posted to Hong Kong. My hotel seemed to attract ex-military men both British and German and a few Nipponese. The Germans and Americans cannot resist any building that looks like a castle, even a replica castle.
After the war, Dad and his mates would laugh during their drinking sessions at the mention of certain soldiersâ names who were the worst felons at a certain pastime: stealing sexual pleasures without paying. Tam and Willie shared with dad the responsibility of stamping out these unlawful crimes. The lucky offenders, if caught, ended up in the glass house; the unlucky ended up in the VD clinic. The favourite modus operandi of these felons will be explained later in this chapter.
On the voyage east, from Palestine to Hong Kong, the new recruits saw flying fishes for the first time and porpoises that glided and chased in the shipâs wake. As soon as they reached the tropics, strange colourful birds rested for short periods on the shipâs rigging and eyed the red-faced men below. Even the sea changed colour to a light azure blue. The young soldiers had heard that the beautiful young Chinese ladies were very friendly. And as if to confirm this, on entering Hong Kong Harbour, their ship was greeted by a flotilla of floating French letters which in sheer number dominated the less interesting flotsam. Docking, the men were delighted to see attractive local Chinese women lining the harbour rails. These exotic beauties wore their traditional style cheug sarm , tight hip clinging silk dresses, with suggestive slits that reached high on the thighs. These ladies smiled invitingly at the red-faced gawking men from Scotland. To the soldiers aboard ship, it seemed that they had arrived at a servicemanâs Shangri-La.
The flies in Hong Kong seemed to be fewer in number, and more particular in their habits. The smell of Hong Kong was a delicate mixture of various odours, both good and bad intermingled, the pleasant aromas overpowering the bad. The air contained a headycombination of spices, a hint of opium and scented joss sticks. Fragrant jasmine and bougainvillea grew in profusion on the white walls of the opulent European pavilions. These were the exotic aromas of the orient.
Hidden in the warrens of the Chinese quarter of Wanchai, sinister vendors peddled short dreams of contentment. Cheap bars lined the waterfront; market stalls sold all the tasty Chinese dishes. You could buy a small cup of fresh cobra blood that cured all ills. The Scots stared shocked as they witnessed old Chinese women painfully tottering by on tiny deformed bound feet.
To the Orientals, the Scots were also a rather exotic race. The number of Scots with flame-hair and even redder skin (always a giggling matter to oriental women) and their strange pale blue eyes amazed the local observers. The only red faces the Chinese were familiar with were on macaque monkeys. The locals found the Lothian accents most difficult to understand and on occasion, intimidating. The sound of pipes and drums caused many a Chinese to place fingers in ears. All the while, the Japanese civilians made mental notes of the numbers of troops and the Regiments arriving.
Across the border in mainland China, within marching distance, veteran Japanese troops continued to train and manoeuvre for the coming attack. They had no intention of using the main
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